The Christ-Crucified Picture Show
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Note: Web content for adult intellectual audience only.
Readers assume full responsibility for their own thoughts and actions.
 Fellas, April 1, 2001 - August 24, 2011 |
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This website is dedicated to Fellas, my loving companion for over 10 years, who I pray to see again one day reunited with my other loving companion, his brother Peanut.
 Peanut, April 1, 2001 - September 22, 2009 |
 Sleepytime |
24 Mar 2023 - 78th B-Day of Tom, Dick, & Harry
19 Mar 2023 - 95 and still kickin' 1 Mar 2023 - Atop the Washington Monument 14 Feb 2023 - Valentine's Day 1 Feb 2023 - Candlemas Eve 1 Jan 2023 - New Year, New Book? 1 Jan 2023 - Resurrecting Notre Dame 24 Dec 2022 - Eve of Christmas 1 Dec 2022 - Changes 30 Nov 2022 - Labor of Lamborghini 30 Nov 2022 - Feast of Saint Andrew 23 Nov 2022 - Now It Begins 5 Nov 2022 - Trump (R) v. Bill Clinton (I) in 2 years? 2 Nov 2022 - Day of the Dead 31 Oct 2022 - Wwwitch! 4 Oct 2022 - Feast of the very first animal lover 1 Oct 2022 - Gambeson, Brigandine, and Hauberk 24 Sep 2022 - calling all Relics 22 Sep 2022 - Fall foliage book read 15 Aug 2022 - DiChlor back in stock! 24 July 2022 - Pronounced VEEN-ge-go 4 July 2022 - Anatomy of a Firecracker 19 June 2022 - That's a Doc in the Fairway 6 June 2022 - Roam for Relics with RLRH 4 June 2022 - A Fairytale has been published 1 May 2022 - First of May 7 April 2022 - itti and pitti (below) are 11! |
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Tough Luck for a Beatleman
A couple of weeks ago, it was suggested that you pack your ice skates before boarding yourself and your luggage en-route to see Poland’s winter wonderland. Well, don’t pack them just yet. As it is dead-winter right now, it’s a perfect time to profile a local Polish American who reveled in this season on the ice. Let’s first tell the tale of the tape.
The date was early August 2009. It was about 5pm on the big clock as I sat on the sofa watching the five blades of a wickered Savannah ceiling fan lull me to sleep. Then, the phone rang. “6pm, the Staaten restaurant, look for a card with your name on it at the front desk” said the voice, as images of Watergate and Deepthroat danced through my mind. However, it was none other than the king of Staten Island’s NY Polonia, Walter Stojanowski, graciously inviting me to the event. I accepted.
Arriving clean shaven and probably with too much cologne, I was immediately confronted by an entourage of white and red sashed ‘friends of Polonia.’ A smile here, a smile there. With my suit jacket formally buttoned, I made my way to my seat. Nobody knew me, but I wasn’t surprised being that back then I was pretty much of a novice newspaper columnist, a stranger in a strange land of Polonia that I was learning about one step at a time, eh, literally.
That’s because after the pageant’s dinner, I spotted a young girl sitting solo at a table in the distance, and if I recall, a certain tune by the great Fryderyk Franciszek Chopin, yes here’s a chance to have his correct full name in print, beckoned guests to take to the floor in dance. You can figure out what happened. I asked, she accepted.
Her name was Alexandria Niechcielska-Riordan, and at only 19 years of age then, full of future ambition. I later got to chatting with her mother who also attended the event, and had to interrupt because I didn’t know who ‘Zsa Zsa’ was that she was referring to. “One of our little ones tried to pronounce Alexandria but all that could be mouthed was Zsa Zsa, so the name stuck,” said the mom.
Back on the dance floor, myself having two ‘left feet’ was embarrassing indeed, however, Ms. Niechcielska-Riordan provided ‘how-to’ instruction right on the spot. Our heights were a perfect match-up; she was about five or six inches shorter than me, you know, just like Bogart and Bergman in Casablanca.
Sunset hit and the party was over, but not before I had pretty much mentally penned my next newspaper column. It was all about Zsa Zsa. Fourteen years later, I now find myself reflecting and eager to offer an update on the girl who taught me how to one-step-two-step the polonaise. And I should have figured it out; somebody with that kind of foot know-how would be the perfect ice skater. Turns out she was, and more so.
Zsa Zsa grew up in the city of brotherly love, Philadelphia. When she was old enough to compete in figure skating competitions, she did so representing the Skating Club of New York. And it was none other than the famous Elaine Zayak who coached her, doing so at the Ice House skating facility in Hackensack, New Jersey. Zsa Zsa placed high enough to qualify for the U.S. Figure Skating Championships and earned a spot to represent the United States internationally in the Novice category at the Aegon Cup in the Hague, Netherlands.
A few years later, she decided to compete for Poland as a member of Unia Dwory skating club in Oświęcim, then later changing clubs to represent Warsaw’s RSK Marymont skating club. Due to International Skating Union, or ISU, rules, she was restricted from competing internationally for a full year even though she placed high enough in the Polish Figure Skating Championships to represent the country internationally.
She eventually had her international debut in the late winter of 2008 and the following year placed 34th in the prestigious Junior World Championships in Sofia, Bulgaria. But as they say in sports, less than one percent of all who try to make it to the big-time end up making it. Unfortunately, Zsa Zsa fell into the majority. However, not all was lost.
Skating alongside Olympic Gold Medalists such as Oksana Baiul, Kristi Yamaguchi, Nancy Kerrigan, Katerina Witt, Nicole Bobeck, and Tara Lipinski, Zsa Zsa was a guest skater who auditioned and was chosen to skate in the popular Diva’s On Ice show at the Sovereign Bank Arena in Trenton, New Jersey for two consecutive years.
Zsa Zsa was also asked to appear on Saturday Night Live in December 2010, to do the ‘Meryl Streep on Ice’ segment, which she splendidly did. You know, SNL regularly mimics pop stars, and Zsa Zsa was cast for the part. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, none other than Paul McCartney hosted the show. McCartney you see, was slotted to sing three songs, then yield the floor to Zsa Zsa. However, he sang five, limiting Zsa Zsa’s airtime. An unconfirmed rumor has it that after the show, Sir Paul asked Zsa Zsa out on a date, however, due to poor etiquette in the presence of a Polish girl, Zsa Zsa declined. Tough luck for a Beatle?
Now retired from skating, Zsa Zsa works as a surgical intensive care nurse.
The Magnificent Seven Soul-Savings
Gotta admit, the above title immediately came to mind after a recent night’s television airing of the classic 1960 Western, The Magnificent Seven. That, coupled with the fact that given this economy nearly everyone is pinching a penny these days looking to save three cents on a length of pipe, seemed to be fitting for this column’s subject matter. Although not packing quite the punch of the Yul Brynner character in the film who dressed in all-black clothing and as the Lenten season begins with black ashes, the following roundup of reminders may prove to be just as rewarding. Of course, improvise as you see fit, and try to keep in mind the point made in last week’s column, that a relationship with God is primarily personal, followed by a supporting institutional one. Guidance, even in this column as well as throughout this paper, is necessary and can be offered, but essentially spirituality starts with you.
1. Why Ashes? Need we be reminded that we are dust, and unto dust we shall return? How often do we get caught up in our everyday rigmarole, losing perspective of who we really profess to be? Football, politics, and who the latest Hollywood star is having an affair, seem to rule our lives. My God, wouldn’t it be nice if the 6 o’clock news reported a story about the state of the soul? Grand Opening Sale: Don’t get lost in the crowd.
2. Go to Confession. Unfortunately, recipients of the Sacrament of Reconciliation are on the decline. Mysteriously however, long confessional lines seem to appear between Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday in too many eleventh-hour efforts at redemption. But why do people wait until Good Friday to make their annual pilgrimage? Are they hopeful the priest won’t recognize their voice among the many? Bargain Basement: Either keep your sins or get rid of them, it’s your choice.
3. Visit the Stations. Many Catholic churches conduct the Way of the Cross every Friday night during Lent, culminating on Good Friday. Here the priest recalls each of Christ’s fourteen stops during the last hours of his life. How many people do you know who celebrate Easter with no awareness of the Passion? Price Drop: Yeah, we’re all for the cute Easter bunny, but this is not what the season is all about.
4. Look at a Crucifix. That’s right, get up close and personal, perhaps with the head of the crucifix pictured, hand-carved by an artisan form Zakopane, Poland. Did you ever envision yourself being crucified? What did the crucifixion of Christ mean? We see movie stars sporting a cross or crucifix necklace while accepting an Oscar for a film displaying scenes of explicit sex, as the audience applauds. 2-for-1 Sale: It was once said that a two-minute gaze upon a crucifix can turn a sinner into a saint.
5. Pass-up the Popcorn. The issue here is not any particular item that tastes good or that we have grown habituated to. Rather, it is our tendency to become dependent on something, devoting a great deal of attention to it. 50-60% Off: Fasting is not only about food refrain, it is about detaching ourselves from any such overly dependent time-and-attention getter.
6. Almsgiving. Who’s got money to spare these days? Everyone has passed the beggar on the street asking for a dime. We pinch a penny walking up and down the supermarket aisles trying to break even. One Day Sale: How am I sacrificing if I am breaking even?
7. Prayer. Even though all of the six points mentioned above are actually forms of prayer in one way or another, the real essence of Lent begins in your heart, mind, and soul. Sure you can go through the motions by doing good deeds and going to church, but how often do you pray quietly and contemplatively? Saint John Paul II used to pray for hours per day. Closeout Sale: Can we be so bold as to attempt at least 10 minutes of daily prayer?
Fortunately for many Polish Americans enriched with tradition, these seven takeaways are a rehearsal for what we have been habitually doing every Lent. This hallmark of our heritage provides an inspiration to others who may not be so devout. Kneeling that extra minute or vocalizing your response a little louder at Mass just so someone else might notice is a great way to influence. Who knows, perhaps because of your faith effort, somebody somewhere will take notice of your seven soul-savings of the season and start saving themselves too.
Juror #7
“This better be fast. I don’t know about you but I happen to have tickets to that ball game tonight, Yanks vs. Cleveland. We got this new kid, Modzelewski, on the mound. He’s a real bull, this kid,” stated Juror #7. One late night last week I was pleased to spot airing on television one of my top-10 favorite films. It was the 1957 drama classic 12 Angry Men starring a whole host of standout stars like Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb, Ed Begley, Martin Balsam, Jack Klugman, and E.G. Marshall. Twelve men to be exact, all of whom are jurors deciding the fate of a teenager who is accused of murder. If you haven’t seen the film, you don’t know what you’re missing.
But who is this Modzelewski kid? Juror #7, played by the actor Jack Warden, is a salesman with a streetwise personality who just wants to get this process over with and get out of there in time for the ball game. He may be your typical juror, right? After all, who wants to be called for jury duty?
Researching the fact or fancy behind this name Modzelewski, I discovered that he was not a real pitcher for the Yankees anytime during the 1950s. Not surprising though, it was clearly a Hollywood made-up name. Authentic enough though for some of our readers bearing the surname! But why then did the film’s director choose a Polish name?
Ah ha, some truth revealed itself. First, the game itself was an accurate fact. The Yankees played Cleveland on Friday, August 2, 1957 in a night game which started at 8pm. This was confirmed by Henry Fonda when he responds to Warden’s request to speed things up. Fonda, who responded by telling him that the game didn’t start until 8 o’clock, apparently was a baseball fan too! The Yanks ended up beating Cleveland 3-2 with Tom Sturdivant on the mound. By the way, Tony Kubek played third base in that game.
So where was the Modzelewski connection? It seems somebody, maybe Jack Warden himself, on the set which took place entirely in a juror room, was a Cleveland Browns football fan who borrowed the name of Ed Modzelewski, who played football for the Browns at the time! Listen, if that’s the only way to squeeze a Polish name into a great film, so be it!
Border Blues and Crime Clues
Undoubtedly, you’ve heard the news that Joe Biden recently paid a visit to the southern border to assess the situation. Hearing the subsequent press conference statement, it’s almost like we were in a department store listening to a salesman make a pitch ensuring us that a product is reliable and will work. Are politicians still taking us for suckers?
Even grammar school kids know that our border is broken. Who are these politicians kidding? It was interesting to hear that, oh, “enforcement is going to be kicked up, and illegals will be apprehended.” That might very well turn out to be true, and the end-of-year statistical charts will indeed reflect this uptick in apprehension. Sound too good to be true? That’s because it very well may be.
What these bureaucrats don’t advertise is that just as soon as many of these apprehensions are made, they are released. This was the policy of the Obama administration, remember? In typical politician style, they will drive up the ‘catch’ numbers to satisfy the statistics, but they’ll be sure to keep the ‘release’ numbers quiet.
An interesting possibility being looked into regarding the recent Idaho University quadruple murders is a sex-crime angle. Before being sought out and accused, Bryan Kohberger allegedly suggested to his neighbor that these could be “crimes of passion.” If this turns out to be the case, will the focus entirely be upon Kohberger? Passion is an effect which has a cause, do you agree?
Of course, any murderer is quite specifically to blame, but nobody seems to ask the question of why sex-crime murderers do what they do. Why do liberal Westernized countries like the U.S. have significantly higher rates of such crimes than say, fundamentalist religious countries? We hear of mass shootings about once a month in this country, but we do nothing to suppress the absolutely violent and reckless television movies any 13-year-old can watch before going to bed.
Of course, we can’t look into the brains of our culture’s sex-crime perpetrators like John Wayne Gacy, the American who was accused of murdering 33 young boys, but how about focusing just a bit less on Kohberger, Gacy, and others, and finally admitting the potential root cause?
Couple 'o Questions
Q: I’m curious to know if there are any big modifications to the requirements to be a priest considering the recent scandal? I know marriage is out of the question, but maybe more pay or looser vows for these men? – Donna, NY
A: Interesting question, thanks Donna. I’m unaware of any major changes, however I assume there are tighter controls on candidates as well as perhaps a longer probationary period and subsequent periodic evaluations. I think the Church would be wise to borrow strategy from the private sector, which I think it is doing. From what I’ve heard from priest-friends, the pay seems to be fine. As far as vows, we may have similar feelings but in my opinion, it is entirely unrealistic to assume a 20-something-year-old will feel the same way at 40. A man’s body chemistry and mentality change with time, this is natural. Locking oneself in to a way of life, religious or even secular I might add, may seem to be a noble and commendable act, however ideality should never be substituted for reality, in my humble opinion.
Q: Who was smarter, Benedict XVI or John Paul II? – Michael Jr., NY
A: I see you’ve catapulted from your usual sports-talk to spirituality. What’s next, politics? It depends on what you mean by ‘smart.’ Benedict XVI, although contrary to what has been asserted, was not a theologian, in my opinion. A theologian is an objective studier of the belief in a God or gods. Someone who has a specific direction as he did, writing encyclicals and apostolic exhortations, would be more accurately classified as a scholar in the discipline of Catholicism. John Paul II’s ‘smarts’ are equally impressive, having written fourteen encyclicals among his works. However, as you know, he was more about connecting with the average Joe, more so than promoting intellectualism. What does ‘smart’ mean then, or as Shakespeare said, “Where is fancy bred, in the heart or in the head?”
Q: Covid is back. I’m wondering if we’ve learned our lessons about hygiene or will we continue to ride the roller coaster witnessing sickness, hospitalizations, and death? – Barbara, NY
A: I think Brooklynites such as yourself Barb would regretfully agree with your latter remark having the Coney Island Cyclone in their backyard. How many people are wearing masks in the supermarket? Standing in line at the bank, anybody keeping a 6’ safe distance? Observing a Mass recently, after handling the chalice and ciborium at consecration, the priest mindfully stepped aside to disinfect his hands, but then went back and handled the same chalice and ciborium in offering them to the congregation at Holy Communion. Where is society’s disciplined diligence? Do you know that some countries have been wearing masks continuously for three years now, with no Covid problems?
Extinction Cometh?
Q: I thought the question on love raised by the anonymous woman and a follow-up by a reader is something needing more exposure. The kids today form their values mostly from our culture and not from their parents. As we all know, fewer and fewer kids are seen at Sunday Mass so I agree with the follow-up reader in that we need a better spiritual driver. I actually disagree with you on your point that our abortion preventative efforts are just a pat on the back as I think pro-lifers are doing a great job changing popular thinking. – Donna, NY
A: Thanks as always Donna. I agree with you that today’s kids, who will become tomorrow’s adults, are probably going to be religious-less people. It’s a doomed outlook and anybody feeling differently isn’t being realistic. Sure, parents may try their best to groom their kids into a religious mindset, but even an amateur mathematician would conclude that bombarding a kid with six secular days versus one spiritual day is a no-win situation for religion. What are we as a society doing about it? Zilch. I’m sorry to say this as I projected before, but I predict that religious institutions will become virtually extinct in 100 years. On battling the abortion issue, our efforts seem to be solely due to a religious cause, but how about battling for life’s worth itself? When was the last time we heard someone defend the right to life for non-religious reasons? Does battling abortion always have to be defended with God in mind? Can’t we put religion slightly aside and defend life for life itself, so a baby can be born, grow up, see a sunrise, throw a frisbee, fall in love, write a book, laugh and cry and co-exist with others, like we have, for example? We’d be wise to begin entertaining that defense for the right to life, given the extinction rate of religion as I mentioned, in my opinion.
Oh LàLà
Oh LàLà. That was the name of the magazine that Biff had in the film Back to the Future Part II. Such expressions were forthcoming as the annual Fashion Model Super-Gala, or as I like to say, the annual fashion super-model gala because to me they’re all super-models, was scheduled to be held in New York City at the end of this past month, actually not too far away from the Polish Consulate, but got rescheduled to mid-January due to an electrical issue brought on by the extreme cold suffered recently.
Typically it turns out to be a who’s who in the fashion world, attendees include everyone from high-end designers right down to backstage emergency stitchers. Yes, during fashion weeks which are held worldwide usually to showcase Spring and Fall wardrobes, they even have workers poised in waiting with a needle in one hand ready to stitch up any accidental tears occurring when the models walk the runway. The last thing any designer wants is for one of their models to trip on an innovative lengthy gown or break an ultra-thin heel. Sales would suffer. So, who is potentially coming to the big banquet and what might they be wearing?
► Coming off of a vibrant cover photo for last month’s Vogue Magazine Korea edition, 39-year-old Rzeszów native Anja Helena Rubik is sure to grab the eyeballs if she chooses to again wear the sleek yellow dress from French designer Saint Laurent, formerly known as Yves Saint Laurent, when she landed that cover photo. Rubik is actually considered a senior model, if you can believe it. Just like pro sports, in the fashion industry, most of the attention is focused on 20-30-year-olds. However, there is growing market for middle-aged beauty, just look at Cindy Crawford, who at 56 is redefining what it is to be beautiful.
► She’s 5’11” with dark blonde hair and hazel-colored eyes, and works for a popular New York City modeling company. Sound familiar? Not until you meet her, as I had the pleasure of doing some years back. Yet another senior in the world of fashion is 38-year-old Magdalena Frąckowiak, originally from Gdańsk. This soft-spoken woman is perhaps the epitome of what it means to be a fashion model, having walked the runways for such industry-making giants as Chanel, Christian Dior, Givenchy, Ralph Lauren, and Oscar de la Renta to name just a few. She looks good in red, and that together with her smile can be quite captivating, so there’ll be no question as to whether she'll warm up the joint that evening!
► Come on, she’s old enough! Arguably the biggest draw attendees may have in conversation with now 28-year-old Monika Jagaciak is the model’s early career. You see, Poznań native Jagaciak actually started walking the runways at…age 13. At the time there was some degree of public outcry that such activity was a form of sexualization of children, and several modeling agencies as well as designers ran for the hills, anxious to keep their good standing. Except for a few organizers who raised the entry age, eventually there wasn’t enough justification for any kind of ban. Jagaciak’s mother even traveled with her to ensure she wasn’t taken advantage of. At the gala, the green-eyed beauty may sport some degree of red attire to compliment the season, but watch out, she is known for her powerful runway walk, actually falling once at a Paris fashion show.
► Whenever she walks into a room, no introductions are necessary. I’m talking about 43-year-old Warsaw native and just 5’7” blonde beauty Joanna Krupa. Although not as dominant in the discipline of pure runway walking, Krupa you see has expanded her exposure, eh, literally, as an actress and activist, posing in nothing but body paint for PETA a few years ago. She’s also set up foundations for the care and rescue of abandoned animals. There’s no telling what this recently married woman, who tied the knot at the Benedictine Abbey in Kraków, will wear at the gala, if she is indeed coming. Okay she’s on the short side, which is rather atypical for a fashion model, but considering her long career and other talents, attendees are bound to spot her immediately.
► I lost track of how many times I bumped into this 35-year-old chestnut-blonde fashion model who lives part-time in New York City and part-time in Sierpc, Poland. Our accidental meetings were pretty much happenstance. I’d be picking up a $3.59 bulb for my slide projector at a famous NYC camera store and walking out the door while she’d be walking in. Or, waiting on line at the now defunct Dean & DeLuca exotic foods store on Broadway, and there she was filling her bag with Colombian coffee beans. Then one evening I was crossing West 13th St. in Greenwich Village, one of the quietest, most tranquil streets in the entire city, on my way to a health food store, only to spot her strolling along the sidewalk, probably either coming from or going to some fashion magazine shoot. But the last time I saw her was the best, this time in a clandestine-like all-black getup right down to the eyeshades, but she couldn’t fool me as her beauty simply cannot be concealed. I’m referring to Anna Jagodzinska. This gal is perhaps the dictionary definition of a fashion model, who is not necessarily considered attractive by today’s standards, but rather has the perfect combination of height, weight, shoulder girth, and facial bone structure. Indeed, fashion models such as Jagodzinska are in a class by themselves. As it’s winter, Anna may sport a tweed-patterned rag wool sweater, perhaps her trademark look, at the gala. I'll be on the lookout for her...
A Cook's Thanksgiving
I think there were seven or eight vegetables on the table. Hmm, let's see...corn on the cob, string beans, asparagus, carrots, brussels sprouts, broccoli/cauliflower mix, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, turnips, and maybe a couple others present. Almost every pot and pan was used, with all five stovetop burners on simultaneously. Good thing there were a lot of wooden spoons to do the stirring! Side treats like olives, cranberry sauce, and creamed onions supplemented the setup. Did I forget anything? Ah, the turkey! It was a 24-pounder, which was the biggest our family had since back in the good 'ol days of yesteryear. After watching so many Christmas-time movies featuring a gigantic turkey on the dinner table and me being asked to pick it out, I figured, why not go for it with a Hollywood-style bird? Five and a half hours after going into the oven with a little cooling time added, it hit the dinner table to big applause. A bit of mixed feelings though on my part, being a vegetarian, I think I may fool everybody next year with a soy turkey. Hey, if they can make Not Dogs in place of hot dogs, mock turkey should be right around the corner.
Next...my annual batch of Christmas cookies! Stay tuned...
The Teenager Saint
Ten days from now will mark the official feast day of one of the most beloved saints in all of Polonia, Saint Stanislaus Kostka. Although Poland prefers a jump-start on this feast, celebrating it on September 18, no doubt regardless of actually when this 17-year-old teen from the town of Rostkowo is remembered, his story speaks for itself.
Stanislaus was the second of seven children born to a modestly affluent family. His older brother Paul played perhaps the key role in the younger Stanislaus’ discernment of future life. In short, Paul hated Stanislaus because of the youngster’s ever-increasing piety, and frequently beat him up. The effect of this caused Stanislaus to later remark to Paul, “Your rough treatment will end in my going away never to return, and you will have to explain my leaving to our father and mother.” At home, the brothers were taught with firmness and severity resulting in their piety, modesty, and temperance, but Stanislaus you see, used these attributes somewhat differently than Paul.
Before the sibling-shockwave began though, in July of 1564, the 13-year-old Stanislaus along with Paul arrived in Vienna, Austria to attend a new Jesuit college that had been opened just a few years before. Stanislaus quickly made a mark for himself among his classmates during his three years of schooling there, not only for his friendliness, but also for his growing religious fervor and piety. Paul, you see, increasingly became angry over this, possibly expecting that his brother maintain the family’s secular status. At Stanislaus’ beatification years later in 1605, an obviously repentant Paul went on the record to state: “He devoted himself so completely to spiritual things that he frequently became unconscious, especially in the church of the Jesuit Fathers at Vienna.”
The thought of joining the Society of Jesus, better known simply as the Jesuits, had already entered the mind of the saintly young Stanislaus. It was six months, however, before he uttered any inkling of this to the superiors of the Society. In Vienna, they hesitated to receive him, fearing the rebuke that would probably be raised by his father against the Society, possibly due to the youngster’s age. The Jesuits suggested that Stanislaus go to Augsburg, Germany to see the great Peter Canisius, but the distance was over four hundred miles which had to be made on foot. Without equipment, a backpack, or guide, the teenager secretly set out for parts-unknown.
Dressed as a mendicant, which is a person who wears simple clothing and relies on the generosity of others for sustenance, Stanislaus eluded his brother Paul’s angry pursuit both by his new unrecognizably ‘fashion’ wardrobe and by taking an alternate route exiting the city. Paul never caught him.
Stanislaus stayed for a month in Germany, where Peter Canisius put the youngster’s vocation to the test by employing him in a boarding-school. After his 30-day stint, Stanislaus arrived in Rome to join the Jesuits there, but as he was greatly exhausted by the journey, the general of the order, Francis Borgia, didn’t permit him to enter the novitiate until several days later. But he got in eventually, and during the ten remaining months of his life, according to the testimony of the master of novices, Fr. Giulio Fazio, “Stanislaus was a model and mirror of religious perfection. Notwithstanding his very delicate constitution he did not spare himself the slightest penance. He had such a burning fever in his chest that he was often obliged to apply cold compresses.” That was no play on words, Stanislaus was physically sick.
On the evening of August 10, 1568, Stanislaus fell ill with a sky-high fever and clearly saw that his last hour had come. He wrote a letter to the Blessed Virgin Mary begging her to call him to the skies to celebrate with her the glorious anniversary of her Assumption on the 15th. And on that day, around 4 o’clock in the morning, while he prayed, he died.
The Holy See approved the beatification of Stanislaus Kostka in 1605 and he was canonized in 1726. St. Stanislaus Kostka is a popular saint in Poland and many religious institutions have chosen him as the protector of their novitiates. The depictions of him in art are quite varied; he is sometimes depicted receiving Holy Communion from the hands of angels, or receiving the Infant Jesus from the hands of the Virgin Mary, or in the midst of a battle expelling the enemies of Poland. At times, he is also depicted near a fountain putting a wet linen cloth on his breast, as St. Stanislaus Kostka is invoked for palpitations of the heart and for dangerous cases of illness.
On the Feast of the Assumption in 2018, Pope Francis wrote to the Bishop of Płock in honor of the 450th anniversary of Stanislaus’ death. In his message, Pope Francis cited a little-known habitual saying of Stanislaus’: “Ad maiora natus sum” which translates, “I was born for greater things.”
Risk and Reward
Twenty-two years ago, I set out across the arid Judean desert with nothing but a pack on my back, a bible in my hand, and a dream. It was my first trip to the Holy Land, and having the fearless zeal known only to a 30-something year old then, it would later become a trip that I would never attempt again. Risk and reward, that’s what it was all about.
After a moderately easy start from the waters of the Sea of Galilee in the north, I made my way to another body of water, the lowest point on the face of the Earth, the Dead Sea. But on the way, not realizing until later, I narrowly avoided crossing into Israeli Army restricted space. Trespassing into this area would have meant instant demise, and I would have found myself jailed, in court, paying a fine, and sitting on a return flight home. But what would a fair-haired boy wearing a red and white Keffiyeh, or head scarf, in the fashion of Lawrence of Arabia know? After all, caravans of Bedouin tribes roamed the desert freely, so the jury is still out on whether I would have been singled-out by the authorities.
As brave as I may have been by day, once nightfall came it was a different story. If I slept for fifteen minutes that night in the middle of nowhere, it was a lot. Losing count of the number of stars overhead, all I could hear was windswept sand. Sunrise came early, and I eventually reached the massive mountains flanking the west coast of the sea where I saw the remains of the ancient Qumran community, famously known for the Dead Sea scrolls.
I always wondered what it must have been like for the shepherd-kid who discovered the scrolls, having thrown a rock into the right cave to find a sheep gone astray. Should I climb the vertical mountain cliff to venture into one of the numerous other caves visible, I asked? Realizing the risk, I instead soldiered on to arrive at the shore of the Dead Sea.
With nobody in sight, “the hell with it” said an exhausted me and stripped to my underwear, closed my eyes and jumped in. The salt content, eight times that of the saltiest ocean, was so great that I floated on the water. Here, there is ten percent more oxygen in the air too, a nice natural recovery plus.
After drying off, I hiked further southward and experienced a certain metanoia, or change of heart. The typical visitor becomes entranced by physically being at the lowest spot on the planet, yet the sheer magnitude of the extremely dry and rugged mountains just a stone’s throw away contradict this. Then, one sees Masada, the great cliff-top ancient settlement where Jewish zealots battled the Roman army, ending in all 960 Jewish inhabitants deciding to die before the Romans could reach them.
After experiencing the awe of this historic site, I decided to take a bus back north and hopped off near the tiny town of Bethany. Unfortunately not too many tourists visit the town which is off the beaten track, but I did, and nearly never made it out.
The Tomb of Lazarus was my only goal to experience there. The tomb’s custodian runs a merchant shop directly across the street, and once the entrance fee is paid, he unlocks the tomb’s door, turns the lights on, and the visitor is allowed to descend a steep set of steps down into the actual tomb itself.
And there I was, inside the actual tomb of Lazarus. I opened my Bible and silently read the famous passage about Jesus commanding the dead man to “Come Forth!” After about twenty minutes of pondering in the dead silence of it all…the lights went off, and BOOM!, the door at the top of the steps was shut. Curses muffled, I half-panicked and began to feel my way around the rock tomb completely in the dark, located the steps and began yelling at the top of my lungs that I was still down there. Fortunately the guy heard me.
Tightening my boots for the final trek, or “pilgrim’s walk” to Bethlehem, which was a dirt trail used by thousands of Christians over the centuries, it was Bethlehem or bust. The walk was enduring, going up hills and through sheep meadows. At its conclusion, I arrived at the Church of the Nativity. In this predominantly Palestinian village, the high bells of this church stand clear for all to see. Here, in the grotto, Jesus was born. Interestingly enough, the site is actually a cave. And a very sacred one indeed. The exact spot of Jesus’ birth is marked with a fourteen-point star (photo). One seems to abandon all personal concerns and worries here.
Departing, I was reminded of the region’s modern-day dilemma, as just over my shoulder I heard a skirmish between kids throwing rocks and soldiers firing rubber bullets. But after what I had just experienced on this trip, to me that scuffle was only, as Ralph Kramden would say, “a mere bag of shells.”
After taxiing halfway to the airport, I set out on foot again and arrived for my flight back. My trek was complete, though my pants were torn and my boots were worn. I was completely exhausted, but I was still smiling.
Tannenbaum Toy Toss-Up
As a side-track to my annual potpourri of presents to put under the Christmas tree, we can’t forget about our youngsters, can we? Kids have no use for the neckties and bracelets and coffee cups that have been featured in the past. Let’s face it, our children are the first ones to make out a gift list for Santa, probably edging out us adults by months. Just check with any kid and they’ll probably tell you that this year’s wish-list has been under their bed pillow since last February. Let’s eyeball a few notables that you might want to check out as potential gifts to supplement their list.
- I don’t care if your kid is 8 or you’re 80, this may be the very best toy that you can give to a kid this Christmas...while ending up hogging it for yourself. At $179 on Ebay.com, the original 1973 version of the Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle may go down as an heirloom that would be remembered from year to year. Heck, I lost track of the countless hours I spent searching for mine which disappeared during my adolescence. Yet, I think I know what happened. Typically when you reach your teens, you intentionally throw out all of your childhood toys as an assertion that you are now ‘mature.’ Twenty years later, you’re kicking your own behind for such stupidity. Don’t make the same mistake. The motorcycle is white and the stunt launcher is red. And if your lucky enough to get an original Evel doll, you’ll find a red blood-colored stain on the left knee of his white-colored pants. Evel Knievel holds the Guinness Book of Records for the most bones broken in a lifetime with 433.
- At a stealing price of just $279.33 on Ebay, you can offer your kid a vintage 1978 Shogun Mazinga Warrior. This then futuristic-looking monster robot stands at 2 feet tall and fires a series of white and red missiles. Nobody makes this kind of thing anymore, nobody. Today’s version of such a colossus would consist of cheap plastic with breakable parts, and there probably wouldn’t be any firing mechanism due to gun control restrictions! Just kidding, but indeed the missiles were of a quality caliber. Gee, that was another toy of mine I still can’t find.
- If you want to humorously drive your kid nuts this Christmas, then score with Hasbro’s original Shoots and Ladders Board Game. Designed for four players who each take turns at spinning a numbered wheel and subsequently move along a series of 100 squares until reaching the very top to win, it boasts plenty of white and red colors. Don’t be surprised though if your child kisses you and curses you, because enroute to the top are ladders and shoots. For example, a kid can climb from square 28 to square 84 with luck, and likewise fall from square 87 to square 24 with peril. Not a bad out-of-the-classroom lesson on gambling? The price is about $25 for the original version, found at select toy stores online.
- “All I got so far was stupid underwear,” as the know-it-all kid said in the delightful Christmas film, The Polar Express. Whatever you do, forget getting underwear for your kid on this Yuletide feast. What kid wants underwear! Alternatively, you might try a kind of toy-clothing hybrid in the form of a sneaker. Toddlers especially might enjoy Amazon.com’s Sesame Street Boy’s Denim Sneaker with dual lace-ups and ties, and a nice big funny face of Elmo for everybody to squat down and see. Of course, the sneaker sports a red upper with a white sole. Not bad for $23.98 in toddler sizes 4 through 10.
- I’ll have to run down the hall to the Am-Pol Eagle sports desk to inquire, but I’m betting my bottom dollar that ex-New England Patriots’ tight end Rob Gronkowski still owns a set of FOCO NFL Team Logo Reusable Washable Fashion Face Cover Masks in white and red. Listen, this dude is a Polish-American, he’s not going to throw out his colors simply because he played for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. With a 4.5 out of 5 rating from over 2,700 customers, perhaps all ‘Gronk’ fans, this would be an appropriate gift for the kid of yours now that school is underway, as kids are getting closer to one another and Covid is still around. $26.99 on Amazon.
- They say that men are the best bakers but… Perhaps you’ll put that to the test when your little girl receives a Holiday Classic House Gingerbread Kit from Wondershop in a nice totable red and white box. If you’ve got a Target store in your area, great, go get it. If not, order it on Target.com for only $9.99. According to one reviewer, it was “the best $10 I’ve ever spent!” Each gingerbread kit comes with everything that your child needs to create a festive gingerbread creation they’ll enjoy seeing, and eating! With gingerbread pieces, icing, candies, and your inspiration, they’ll be all set for a fun time building and decorating their first house!
Miracle on the Delaware?
You may have heard of the Miracle on the Vistula, but the Delaware? Word comes to us that 69-year-old Regina Kowalski of Belvidere, NJ unfortunately was unable to carry out her plan to make a foot-pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa in Doylestown, PA this past August. After reading an earlier column about the trip, the vibrant senior went out and purchased a backpack, tent, sleeping bag, and water bottle to supplement her new sneakers.
Regina contacted the Polish parish of St. Peter and Paul in Great Meadows, NJ which, since 1921, has been a staple in the local Polish-American community there and is the leading organizer for treks to the ‘American Jasna Gora.’ Each year, it leads a large group of people of all ages, from grandparents to young children, on a near 60-mile walk lasting four days and 3 nights. The pilgrims camp out in forests, state parks, and on farmland.
“I was so excited after reading your story that I made a firm commitment to undertake the task,” says Regina. “When the weather got warmer in spring, I started practice-walking a few days each week over a Delaware River bridge and gradually increased my mileage. I was able to walk 4 miles over to the next town and then 4 miles back.”
A glance at a map reveals quite a nice route heading southwest. Along the way, plenty of cows, horses, and chickens can be seen, but not many people. That was good news to Regina, who points out, “The route looked so nice and refreshing. Even if it rained, I don’t think I would have minded.”
But what this retired homemaker feared, happened. “I have always had weak ankles since a child. In the back of my mind I knew this would be my only obstacle. It was funny, I didn’t mind roughing it and all the obstacles involved with camping like everybody else might fear.”
Due to the walks she was taking to get prepared, Regina’s ankles began to swell and although at first the swelling would subside in the evening allowing her full recovery for the next day, eventually it would not. After two months of preparation, she realized that her faith-adventure of the physical type simply wasn’t in the cards.
“I was in tears realizing that it was impossible for me to do this pilgrimage walk. If it wasn’t for my very dear friend Elizabeth who consoled me and suggested I go to see a doctor, I don’t know what state of mind or health I’d be in right now.”
The silver lining to this story perhaps came with her friend’s suggestion. You see, after visiting her doctor and going for tests, Regina was diagnosed with a lymphatic system disease which caused edema in her ankles when under heavy effort, having had no warning signs before or any indication of such an ailment. She was prescribed medication and is now on the road to better health.
“In a way, I think this was a miracle. I wanted to feel rewarded by doing the walk to the Shrine, but God truly works in mysterious ways and I instead received a bigger reward when my condition was revealed. I would have never known.” Wow, what else can we say? Wow
Q's on Cultures and Corvettes
Q: I like your book’s discussion about Mazowsze and last week’s story too. Though I don’t agree with your claim that old cultures are no different than ours. Aren’t we today more educated and more decent a people? – Carl, NY
A: Thanks for the musical kudos Carl! I would respectfully argue the opposite. It’s funny but we seem to ignore the fact that ancient cultures such as the Sumerians indeed had engineers, architects, plumbers, statisticians, educators, and all degrees of intellectuals just as we have today. Nobody wants to admit that, instead, we tend to think of these ancient peoples as archaic, uncivilized grunts. My point is that every civilization that comes and goes thinks it’s at the highest level of life, and that it has all the right answers, only to find that a thousand years later, these civilizations are classified as archaic. Somebody once asked me, are we smarter than our ancestors? My answer was that we will be on the day that we admit that we aren’t.
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Q: Hello, I read your column entitled “Opening the tomb of St. John Paul II...more controversy?" I wanted to ask if there’s been any more talks since your article about placing St. John Paul II within glass in the open from your reporter friend? Great article as well! – Champion7, unknown state
A: Many thanks for the compliments! I have an email out to my pal in Rome but an auto-reply indicates that she won’t be back until Oct 16 as I believe she is vacationing. I would imagine that Vatican officials would want to time it strategically, perhaps in sync with a feast or anniversary. We’ll have to wait and see if they honor our former Pontiff’s preferences or if politics prevail. I just heard that Pope Francis is officially retiring. Gee whiz, what happened to the integrity of longstanding tradition?
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Q: I would like to thank you for the answer you gave to ‘anonymity’ on Sept 1. Beautiful and perfect. The question from the young woman is exactly what is destroying our world. Not thinking of God, but of ourselves and our good times. It seems that God has been forgotten and the sinful gift of relativism is trying to take over. Morality must be brought back. – unknown mailer
A: Thank you very much for your letter. I think we should first mention that the young woman’s question, although she was looking to defend her actions, was exactly what we need more of. The moral relativism that you refer to may actually be the result of our longtime hush-hush policy on the topic of sex. How many teachers talk to their students about it? How many preachers talk from the pulpit about it? Is it then any wonder why she is so defensive? I agree with you altogether, but I am in favor of a more secular approach to the education of people on the value and worth of all life. The intangible spiritual approach as you favor is great, but in my opinion people are most affected by real-time, street-wise human wisdom, and we have not fully developed that yet. Our thoughts of life’s worth are not valued to the degree that they could be. We still wage war, we execute, we fail to rehabilitate, we pat ourselves on the back for battling abortion, but we fail to take ethics further into our minds and how we think about the gift-giving process of life itself. Sadly, Humanism has taken a back seat to spirituality. In my opinion, if you want change, you hit people with tangible reasoning first, then perhaps add a spiritual component. I invite you to read my book, E-Notes and Anecdotes available on Amazon, which absorbs this entire topic.
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Q: Does the Polski Fiat come in red with white highlight? I have a matchbox-type car and it looks to be this exact make but I was wondering if this little car is a true small-scaled replica? Also, what is your favorite car? – Danny, NY
A: Interesting question Danny, thanks. I would have to refer this to my colleague Robert Strybel who crosses the streets of Warsaw every day and may know firsthand! Perhaps as a retirement gift to myself in a couple of years, I’ve already decided on the 2023, or later, Chevrolet Corvette Stingray, Coupe version, and although I am not a coffee drinker, I absolutely love the caffeine metallic finish.
Fuhgeddaboudit
It’s back to politics as we gear-up for the 2024 presidential election. And if the economy continues in its current fashion, ‘Fuhgeddaboudit’ as stated on an actual sign on the Belt Parkway leaving Brooklyn. If so, Biden will probably not run, but does Trump? This may indeed be an opportune time for an independent to enter the race. So, what kind of P/VP ticket should we expect, male-male, male-female, female-male…or some other mix? And what about the actual voting mechanism, should we trust our electronics after the last election? Will there even be enough money left in the budget to run an election? Playing the board game Monopoly, we all had fun with that colorful paper money. It’s not so fun anymore…
My prediction is that we may very well witness a unique battle-royale for the 2024 bid to occupy the White House. Here's how I think it may play out. If the economy doesn't see a miraculous recovery by 2024, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the Democratic party won't stand a chance. So, what would they do? They could recruit a proven past winner such as Bill Clinton, who was quite popular and did a decent job as president, in most people's eyes, but only if Congress amends the 22nd Amendment which limits a president's service to two terms. The mistake the Dems made was that they could have done this almost two years ago when Congress had the votes to do so. If the Democrats win both chambers of Congress again, that may happen. Only problem might be, would voters still support a Democratic nominee who is aligned with the lately lackluster party? No matter what a 'ship captain' says about reform, it's difficult to resurface a ship when its hull is already filled with water. Clinton's best chances, therefore, might be to quietly watch the amendment get changed to enable him to run as a Democrat, and then pull a 'Trump Card' and run as an Independent.
Following along on this potential scenario, what does the Republican party then do? Do they introduce a fresh face? Naa, nobody's going to support a fresh face nominee when they could support an already-known and proven face who is now neither Republican nor Democrat. Why chance it when the need is to resurrect the economy? A fresh face nominee, such as was Trump back in 2016, would only be supported if the opposing nominee didn't match up as far as charisma and vision.
Enter Donald Trump. The Grand Old Party's best chance against Independent Bill Clinton may be to nominate Trump to head the ticket. Now you'd have voters having to pick between an old favorite and a recent go-getter. Both have 'baggage' so to speak which will undoubtedly surface during the negative ad campaigns. But it's an interesting proposal and almost guaranteed to reward a ring-side seat to watch. By the way, it is becoming increasingly impossible for any party to not nominate a mixed male-female President-Vice President for their ticket. So, who does Bill Clinton pick? You guessed it, Hillary, paving the way for her to potentially become the first female president in 2028. Personally, I don't take sides in an election but prefer to be objective, but you watch and see.
Hey Stella!
Nearly everyone is familiar with that classic scene of Marlon Brando yelling out from the street, “Hey Stella!” in the 1951 film, A Streetcar Named Desire. I’m a bit embarrassed to say that I’ve only recently watched the entire film. Although largely a drama, it contains some degree of rage, mostly brought on by Brando who plays Stanley Kowalski, a blue-collar Pole who playwriter Tennessee Williams may have, not surprisingly, stereotyped. My first reaction was, gee, Kowalski was a muscle-bound factory worker with dirt under his fingernails, but should such people automatically be portrayed as brainless brutes? That is, do we ever consider that such people could, let’s say, be poets in their spare time?
Aside from the storyline, in my opinion the film conveys some degree of stereotyping elsewhere, even in the southern belle of actress Vivien Leigh who comes to visit the Kowalski’s and displays all kinds of mannerisms and etiquette we associate with the South. Perhaps at the time of the movie, 1951, we shouldn’t be surprised. We seem to have branded certain cultures with certain characteristics regardless of what age they’re in. Just look at the uprisings we had over the past few years.
Not to give away the whole story, but the film basically tells the tale of two sisters, Leigh of course and the other being Kim Hunter, who I have a hard time believing played Zira in the Planet of the Apes! It turns out that Leigh came to stay with sister Kim, playing Stella, due to being broke from creditors taking over the family estate. Muscleman Kowalski suspects Leigh of faking the financial situation and actually selling the estate and hoarding the money. Now you may be better able to relate to why he was yelling from the top of his lungs! Interestingly, the film was named after a real streetcar line in New Orleans. Named for its endpoint on Desire Street, the Desire line ran down Canal Street onto Bourbon Street and beyond.
There’s no Place like Home
Judy Garland was right when she spoke those memorable words in 1939. And it seems at least one man was listening. “In order to relay the whole truth about people, we must come to know the land on which they live.” Those were the words of Tadeusz Sygietyński, founding father of the famous Polish singing group Mazowsze. And as we’ll see, the whole truth of how this group came to be, especially where they called ‘home’ so to speak, is incredible.
Before we step into their house, a bit about the group itself. Mazowsze was established by a decree issued by the Polish Ministry of Culture and Art in 1948. The decree ordered Professor Tadeusz Sygietyński to take the helm. Its purpose was to preserve the traditional folk repertoire of songs and dances of the Masovian countryside located in northeast Poland, from which Mazowsze gets its name. It was perhaps heads-up thinking on the part of the Ministry, as in the immediate years following the Second World War, there was really no telling what would happen as Poland had just gone through near obliteration. The group was intended to protect this folk tradition from destruction and solidify its diversity, beauty, and integrity. Although at the beginning, Mazowsze’s repertoire contained songs and dances from only a few regions of Poland, it soon extended its range by adopting the traditions of other regions.
After two years of preparing, rehearsing, and studying its repertoire, Mazowsze staged its premiere performance in the Polish Theatre in Warsaw on November 6, 1950. The repertoire contained songs and dances from the regions of Central Poland. After the premiere, Mazowsze continued to enhance itself, planning trips actually outside of Poland as well. In fact, 1951 saw Mazowsze visiting the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics! And by 1954, the Polish government allowed Mazowsze to venture outside the Iron Curtain, finding the group performing a concert in Paris. Six years later, they would hit the United States.
After the death of Sygietyński in 1955, incidentally he was only 58, the group’s leader became Mira Zimińska, his wife, who had already been well-versed in the dynamics of the group. The couple’s typical business trip would find Zimińska looking for old traditional clothing for the singers, while Sygietynski hoped to find young talents. Had it not been for Zimińska though, Mazowsze may have never evolved into 39 more ethnographic regions of religious and patriotic songs which were never written down. Because of her, Mazowsze gained popularity all over the world, performing thousands of concerts in Poland and in more than 50 countries. With such popularity, the group of course needed a permanent home for its base of operations. Who would have thought it would be a former sanatorium for the mentally ill?
Karolin Palace, as it is now known, has a history dating back to the early twentieth century, when the Association for Medical Assistance and Care of the Mentally and Nervously Sick elected to build a sanatorium on land it had been granted by a local landowner. Construction began in 1909 with support from the owner’s widow, Karolina Bobrowska, from whom the palace gets its name. The palace was completed in 1911, but lacking in funds after World War I, the sanatorium stopped functioning. The palace then became home to the Russian Red Cross and in 1923 the building was leased to a benevolent society.
Renovation work followed but by 1932 the palace started offering treatment to sick patients again and started renting out rooms to holiday makers in its metamorphosis to function in a commercial capacity. Over time, Karolin became one of the more lucrative health retreats in Poland and attracted artists and writers seeking to escape the bustle of the city. Mira Zimińska herself was actually among its visitors even before the Second World War.
In 1947, the Association for Medical Assistance and Care of the Mentally and Nervously Sick was dissolved, leaving Karolin Palace with plans to house a hospital for high-ranking state officials. That idea got scrapped, and with good timing a plan arose for it to become the headquarters for the new national folk song and dance ensemble. In late 1948, Karolin Palace opened its doors to young people who were to become its first performers. When Mazowsze officially began work in 1949, the palace in its entirety was dedicated for the group’s use.
In the early 1950s, Karolin Palace became a place of work, education, and home-sweet-home for many of these young people from all over Poland. General schooling took place at the palace, as did dance, music theory, singing, and instrumental lessons. If you were so fortunate to stay ‘on campus’ there, your bedroom was located on the upper floor of the palace, while the kitchen, canteen, and storerooms could be found in the basement. Classrooms were similar to a typical college, with separate rooms earmarked for the practice of traditional crafts such as embroidery and paper cutting, music lessons, and voice.
Yet, “all things must pass,” as George Harrison sung. Eventually Mazowsze got so big and involved that it necessitated a new headquarters building be established and in 2009 did so. However, the historic Karolin Palace was set aside for office space and the storage and display of Mazowsze’s collections, so the group was not entirely ‘out of sight, out of mind’ as they say. Fortunately, the deciding officials soon realized that you couldn’t keep the dust from settling on anything related to Mazowsze, and just two years ago the final revival renovation was completed on the palace which currently houses the Center for Polish Folklore, and coming full circle, Mazowsze re-established its headquarters at the palace. In a lively and engaging way, the center presents the folklore of various regions of Poland and the Polish national culture that Mazowsze is inspired by.
A visit to Karolin Palace may be combined with a peek at Mazowsze’s backstage. It is a tour of rehearsal rooms, costume repositories, and the performance hall, which is one of the most modern concert halls in Europe. It contains nearly 600 comfortable seats. The unique design of the facility allows for any arrangement of the hall area, including the possibility to remove all the seats to host any event venue, from concerts to socializing events to corporate parties to grand balls.
There truly is, after all, no place like home…
Still More in the Mailbag
Q: I thought the Entr’acte was real cute! It was a toss-up between that and the Curtain Call! Too bad this was a make-believe village in New York State, I would have enjoyed visiting it! – Donna, NY
A: Thanks as always Donna. But as Tom Hanks, playing the part of the Conductor in The Polar Express said: “Seeing is believing, but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see.” My book, Tales of Bayberry Village, is now back in stock on Amazon.com!
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Q: What is the crash rate for Lot Polish airlines? – Frank, NY
A: Kind of a morbid question but we hold no rules here. I found no statistics for individual airlines, only a ‘top 10’ best and worst listing as far as crashes. Lot was not on either list. It’s not surprising though finding little data, as minor crashes are not something that will be reported or make the 6 o’clock evening news. The bigger question may be, how many people survive after a crash? For example, Lot flies a Boeing 737 MAX-8 which has an average takeoff weight of 181,000 lbs. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to then realize that human life is essentially in the hands of weight, gravity, and the technology to counteract this. I’m sure airlines do the best they can…but sorry, I myself prefer to stay on the ground!
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Q: Since Covid and the economic situation dwindling, I know the workforce has seen a drastic cutback. I lost track of how many stimulus checks I received. I’m wondering how this affects marriages and family planning, might there be a reduction in this as well? – Dorothy, NJ
A: Yes, interesting postulation Dorothy. I imagine this applies globally as well. I don’t think it’s far-fetched to then assume population growth will be reduced simply due to how Covid affected the economy. But you know, aside from this obvious cause, what about the flip side of the coin? I think many people have lost perspective in their lives. I know a woman who works 12-hour days as a VP for a brokerage firm in NYC and has absolutely no time to fall in love with anyone, get married, and perhaps eventually have children. Although it’s great to be a dedicated worker, has Capitalistic society gone so far as to fall out of sync with life’s worth? This is a running theme in my book E-Notes and Anecdotes, how Humanistic potential gets overtaken by organized societal structure. It’s a terrible tragedy.
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Q: Thanks a lot for publishing my earlier question. I don't see true love forming between my brother and the girl he dates. He's trying but she doesn't match his effort. It's more like a one-way street but what can a big sister do? Hope it's okay to send you another question! - Sasha, NY
A: You're very welcome Sasha. We do have limited printing space and given the influx of reader questions and comments not all follow-ups make it to the press room! I hear you, and your concern is obviously out of affection for your brother. Some women like to be 'won over' by a man, which is fine up to a point, but after that if two people wish to truly fall in love, 'truly' being the operative word, they need to equally exchange hearts at the same rate and capacity. That means they both sacrifice themselves for the other, and it looks like either she's too timid to do so, she doesn't want to go that far, or she could very well be just a tease.
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Q: Do you have a recipe for slow-roasting a goose? I want to have it soon being that my turkey is planned for Thanksgiving but I’m not sure if the same method can be used for cooking a goose. – Barbara, NJ
A: You’re asking a vegetarian? I get chills just reading your question! Just kidding, I will keep an eye out for that Barb so you can perhaps squeeze it in before the final leaf falls to the ground by October’s end.
Let Sleeping Dog Statues Lie
The good news is, the Tadeusz Kościuszko monument located at the northeast corner of Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C., literally just a stone’s throw from the White House, has been cleared up of its former graffiti décor. The bad news is, still nobody really knows that the ten-foot-high bronze statue is Kościuszko.
During a trip to our nation’s capital last month, I had a chance to visit the site and check in on Tadeusz’ appearance. If you recall a few years back, crazed rioters seemed to target every monument and statue having the slightest connection to colonial slavery right up to the Civil War, passing judgement and executing sentence on these stately structures. Kościuszko actually got off easy, receiving only spray-painted defacing all around the base of the monument, which proved the perfect host given its white-stoned surface. Luckily, the dark bronze figures surrounding the central figure of Kościuszko himself didn’t attract the evil eye. I suppose if the lunatics had rope and more muscle they could have toppled the statue, as was the case with some other figures elsewhere. To set this sentiment straight though, obviously we now realize some actions of our nation’s long past were inappropriate, but does that mean defacing statutes, burning flags, and wiping clean the history books? Gee, didn’t ISIS do exactly that when they invaded the city of Palmyra?
However, despite the Kościuszko monument being nice and clean now, most passers-by still cannot really tell who it is! As I approached the site, I soon figured out why. The monument sits about 50 feet from the main sidewalk on H Street, and although the throngs of people walking by can get a good glimpse of it, the monument is too far back to render a reading of its inscription. Although there is a circular path surrounding the site enabling a closer inspection, the average visitor would still have to squint to read the surname KOŚCIUSZKO which is in etched white lettering against a white stone. White on white isn’t exactly easy to read. I suppose that was standard operating procedure for most sculptors including Antoni Popiel, the Polish sculptor who designed the Kościuszko monument. In 1907, Popiel participated in a sculpture competition for the monument. Although Popiel won second prize, President Theodore Roosevelt selected his design.
In 2010, a replica of the Kościuszko monument was erected in Warsaw, though not quite an exact replica. The Warsaw version of the statue has lighter bronze figures against a darker grayish stone, making it arguably more enticing to the eye. Let’s just hope it’s not so for any future evil eye.
More in the Mailbag
Q: Congratulations on the new book. I’m done reading it after only three days and I look forward to dreaming now! You say it’s a village in upstate New York but what inspired you to place it there? – Donna, NY
A: Thanks again Donna. As The Pied Pipers sang, Dream, that’s the thing to do. I’m glad you favor dreams because I am now toying around in the horror arena so look for my next book soon…apologies in advance for the nightmares. As far as the location for my book Tales of Bayberry Village, when I was younger, I used to go on vacation annually to a resort in the Catskills and the drive up went through some narrow, twisting roads. I guess that experience stuck with me and I used it as the setting for the story.
Q: How much do you want for the Tony Kubek baseball card? – Michael Jr., NY
A: All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by…as poet John Masefield put it. It’s not for sale my friend.
Q: My brother is the nicest guy in the world, kind, respectful, thoughtful, and full of heartfelt humility. How do you console such a person who's dating a girl that pretty much thinks of only herself but he's too kind to tell her? He's pretty sad at the moment. - Sasha, NY
A: Sounds like a great guy, I wouldn't worry Sasha, his heart will eventually find its home. Humility is lacking in today's world, and those who have it such as your bro' are like gemstones. I've always said, the truest mark of a person is how much they selflessly think of others. Perhaps the final line in the 1946 film, The Razor's Edge, one of my favorite films, would be fitting: "You see, my dear; goodness is, after all, the greatest force in the world, and he's got it."
Q: Do you anticipate an upcoming casting call for Real Live Relic Hunter, and when are you retiring as Director? – Jason, NY
A: Thanks for the interest, but ever since I got lost in the St. Callixtus catacombs on the outskirts of Rome, feeling my way around in the dark only to grab hold of a 1st century Christian’s femur bone, I have no desire to retire and eventually have my own bones grabbed onto! Casting calls are entirely up to the producer, but keep a lookout! ***Update: casting call tentatively set for 9/24-25 in NYC. Be sure to refresh your screen often to see the latest from Real Live Relic Hunter.***
Q: Can you please, please, please try to get me a ticket for fashion week as I heard it’s in September? I am planning to give my resume to Ms. Borowczak. – Izabela, NY
A: Wow, how can I refuse a triple-decker desire? Yes, it’s running from September 8-11 at the Hall of Mirrors on West 37th St. in New York City. But how does that song go…I never promised you a rose garden? Hard to say on the ticket, I haven’t been in contact with her for quite a while being that my permanent pass is still valid. Best bet might be to come with me and if she’s there, perhaps she has a spare pass to lend you. Resume? I’m impressed, Iza. Step aside Anna Jagodzinska.
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Finally
Frank Sinatra starred in a 1954 drama film called Suddenly, so why not title this month's column with another one-liner…Finally? It’s about time for the title, as well as the topic, and one word is all it takes to relay what we’ll be talking about. What else? Roe v. Wade.
Before tackling a few incoming inquiries below, it’s worth its weight in gold to unravel the absolute saga of this ordeal since being decided on in 1973. It seems the central talking point of this whole thing revolved around the ‘right to privacy’ and therefore, if a woman wanted to have an abortion, she could because it was her private business. It becomes interesting then to discover that, when proposing other ‘my own business’ actions we have the ability to take, such as a private murder, suddenly we find laws against them. That is, a person had the ability to be protected for some actions deemed ‘private,' yet other actions were breaking the law. Who then decides what actions are to be classified as ‘private’?
The recent Supreme Court decision was the correct one. Neither the Constitution nor any of its amendments definitively classified abortion as being ‘private’ and therefore protected. To be fair though, arguments came because other modern rights that are taken for granted, such as contraception, interracial marriage, and same-sex marriage, are all apparently protected. But where those arguing for abortion rights miss the mark is that this doesn’t mean abortion rights should be included in that list, rather, it means the Constitution does not and never did specifically protect these actions! The Supreme Court is simply admitting that, Constitutionally, nothing in there defines the extent to what one’s right to privacy is. If we continued with the 1973 decision, what next? Anybody could argue that they have a right to privacy and therefore should be allowed to perform any action.
Many of us may find the technicalities of this particular issue quite a distraction. The other night I saw a political ad by the New York State deputy/assistant Governor or something with the motto, ‘Let’s help protect abortion rights.’ New York State, as you know, has the most extreme abortion laws in the country, killing a fetus up to and, correct me if I’m mistaken, after birth. Protect abortion? In addition to this sounding like an oxymoron, what about protecting the fetus’ rights?
Troubling too may be the lack of maturation among such abortion activist mindsets, as if a woman’s rights are the pinnacle of focus. As stated in an earlier article, wouldn’t it be great if we evolved a bit more to realize that life itself should be the pinnacle of focus? Instead, we continue to wage war on life, killing each other on battlefields as well as in wombs. Have we really evolved that much since the Cavemen?
Ironic as well is the fact that it is illegal to kill an infant baby, but it was legal to kill a fetus. Is there really a difference? Both the baby and the fetus are entirely dependent on the mother. There is no difference.
Sadly though, as much as it was a victory for religious pro-lifers, we must point out that the decision to overturn Roe v. Wade was not to protect life’s sanctity, but rather was of a technical nature as pointed out above. You see, there is still sadness in this, because we still do not recognize life’s worth enough to state so in law. Hopefully though, this decision will pave the way for enhanced realization of life’s worth.
Noise Pollution
Noise pollution? You may have concluded the same sentiment after watching the Macy’s 4th of July fireworks extravaganza last month. Eh, I’m not referring to the boom-boom of fireworks, but arguably, to the absolute insanity of the musical accompaniment going along, in my view.
To begin with, who is responsible for selecting the music leading up to the big fireworks show? Actually, would the correct word be ‘music’? Discordant melodies combined with incomprehensible lyrics don’t exactly represent America, or do they these days?
Afterwards, once the fireworks show began, it was nice to see an on-screen momentary banner identifying each tune, but Thank God I’m A Country Boy is a song we identify with John Denver, not with some hip-hop rap group or youth choir. In a nutshell, it seemed like the classic tunes we grew up on, which we feel an affinity to as Americans, had been twisted and contorted into vastly different sounds supposedly representing contemporary USA.
It was interesting too that one segment displayed one ethnic community’s music and dance which was perfectly fine and representative. However, the irony was that, in the distance, we could see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Where then was the ethnic music and dance of immigrant Poles, Irish, Germans, and Italians? Many of us identify with the Americana music of John Philip Sousa, George Gershwin, Elmer Bernstein, Aaron Copeland, and Cole Porter. I don’t recall any of these composers’ songs on the agenda.
Gee, some of us may really hope it rains next year.
The Butterfly Soul
Q: I thought I would add a comment on your E-Notes book as I read other readers have. The biggest puzzler I have is when you talk about animals having souls which I agree with. But what about other life forms? – Donna, NY
A: Good topic to ponder, yes. John Paul II was the first Pope to openly declare that animals possess souls, but further thought has yet to be broached. Who draws the line, and what defines that line, if there is a line at all? Most religions discourage that exploration because encouraging it would cause its followers to start asking questions, and they don’t want followers to ask questions but rather to follow what they instruct. This is probably the greatest mistake all religions make, because instead of admitting that faith is a complete mystery making any question a valid one, such as if a butterfly possesses a soul, they shut down exploration and stagnate growth. John Paul II did not receive a welcomed reception to his statement from traditional Church hierarchy, that’s for sure. But those with warmer hearts and open minds certainly applauded him.
Suckers
Our local newspaper had an interesting front page sketch a few weeks ago, that being an ariel image of the projected landscape of the New York City area in the year 2200. About one-fifth of the current shoreline was under water. Apparently the ‘global warming’ syndrome has infected rational minds and mentalities to the point of absolute insanity. Together with the Jersey Devil, Sasquatch, and alien abductions, more people are being brainwashed into believing sensationalized stories, in this case that our annually increasing temperatures are entirely due to carbon emissions. So much to the point that salesmen of battery-powered cars are tripling the price of their cars being that these environmental claims make us feel guilty to own a fossil-fueled car, and nasal flush commercials are appearing on every channel trying to convince us that we have too many carbon deposits in our noses. I guess these sales folk take us for suckers.
All it takes is a few minutes of research to discover that global warming and rising water levels may not entirely be due to carbon emissions. Factors such as the sun’s energy output, earth’s rotational axis, and lunar forces are also involved. In fact, uninhabited planets in the Universe experience massive shifts in temperature too. Of course, carbon output only adds to the problem, but when are we going to wisen-up and discuss things rationally? Just like much of politics, religion, and probably everything else, when the truth is not told, we do an injustice to ourselves.
Act Normal, Get Blamed
There seems to be a heck of a lot of talk these days about the White House ‘insurrection’ of January 2021. It’s interesting that such talk comes at a time when the economy is getting destroyed, gas prices are over $5 per gallon, the price for a stick of butter doubling, and the U.S. having failed to negotiate a deal between Russia and Ukraine to prevent the war. Some folks may be wondering if these things would have occurred had Trump been re-elected. Oddly too, media-promoted sentiment seems to automatically chastise these insurrectioners as radical, violent people, yet nobody is wondering why they felt this way. Question for consideration: if your local city official rang your doorbell and told you that it’s official, your home is being bulldozed over the next morning to make room for public housing, wouldn’t you go nuts? That would be a normal reaction. Insurrectioner trouble-makers at the White House? There were probably some who deserve blame. Rather, arguably the majority of these so-called insurrectioners were most likely normal people reacting to what was deemed by a large body of U.S. citizens to be a seriously flawed election, regardless of whether it actually was or not. How then can we blame people, including Trump himself, for reacting normally?
Dimension 7
What gives with Professor Nikodem Poplawski? The University of New Haven astrophysicist dubbed by Forbes magazine as one of five scientists likely to be named the next Albert Einstein, and who also contributed an interview to the Am-Pol Eagle, recently added some icing on top of his cake of black holes, proposing that our universe was literally spit out, or regurgitated if you prefer a more refined word, from the bottom end of a black hole. Not exactly excrement, but you get the idea. According to Poplawski (pictured), a black hole is a tunnel between alternate realities. There may exist other universes both inside and outside of black holes, and we don’t even know it simply because we are only aware of three dimensions, length, width, and height. You may recall the famous 1960 movie, The Time Machine starring Rod Taylor, when he points out that there is actually a fourth dimension, called Time. When you get into Poplawski’s theory, there may be a 5th, 6th, and even 7th dimension as well. The space that you occupy right now might be at the bottom of a giant ocean, in an alternate universe. If you’re sitting on your sofa reading this newspaper, that same space you’re occupying might be on the surface of a hot sun in an alternate universe, or the space could simply be floating around in the sky. “It’s kind of a crazy idea, but who knows?” he said.
The Greatest Discovery Ever Made?
Michał Habdank-Wojnicz may have gone to his grave putting into motion arguably the biggest unsolved mystery of the ages. We’re not talking about the Lochness Monster, who shot JFK, or how the Pyramids of Egypt were built, but a 240-page Medieval manuscript written in an exotically fantastical language complete with colorful drawings of bizarre, unidentified species of flora and fauna. Absolutely nobody, brilliant brains among us included since its discovery in 1912, has been able to decipher the mysterious text. But who was Habdank-Wojnicz?
The founder of the big mystery, which was aptly named the Voynich manuscript, was born in 1865 in Lithuania, then part of the Russian Empire, into a Polish-Lithuanian noble family. The ‘Habdank’ part of his surname was the name of a Polish heraldic clan. Michał he was the son of a Polish petty official. As a youngster, he attended secondary school in Poland’s northeastern town of Suwałki, then studied at the University of Warsaw. He eventually graduated from Moscow University and became a licensed pharmacist.
While in Warsaw, after dabbling in dangerous revolutionary politics at the time known as Proletariat, he was arrested by the controlling Russian forces and sent to a prison in Siberia. Fortunately he escaped and made his way to England, where he settled down and opened up a business as a bookseller, specializing in rare, antique books. In 1904, he became a naturalized British citizen and legally took the name of Voynich. Now comes the story about big mystery book.
To begin with, or maybe to end with, in 2009, University of Arizona researchers radiocarbon-dated the book to sometime between the years 1404 and 1438, but there is evidence that text in the book had been ‘touched up’ so the actual date could be even earlier. Apparently the book changed several hands since the early 1400s, being in the possession of a wide spectrum of people, from alchemist to Franciscan friar. It ended up in the library at the College of Rome, run by the Jesuits. In 1903, the Order was short of money and decided to sell some of its holdings discreetly to the Vatican Library. Yes, surprisingly financial competition exists even on the religious front! Anyway, the sale took place but not all of the manuscripts ended up going to the Vatican. Voynich bought thirty of these leftover manuscripts, among them the one which now bears his name. He spent the next seven years trying to interest scholars in deciphering the script. After Voynich died in 1930, his wife took possession, but before she passed away, she gave it to a friend who ended up selling it to an antique book dealer. Nice friend? The book dealer couldn’t find a buyer and wound up donating it to Yale University in 1969, where it sits today.
Perhaps if these people only knew the value of what they had in their hands, today’s Lotto jackpot would seem like a mere bag of shells. The book that this Pole bought is priceless. So, focusing on the book, the question-sextet of who, what, when, where, why, and how remains debatable.
Some say that it was secretly written in code by Roger Bacon, a scholarly Franciscan monk who had a ‘side-job’ of asking highly controversial philosophical questions and dabbling in alchemy, both of which were taboo to his religious superiors. Others say that none other than Leonardo da Vinci could have penned the baffling manuscript, or perhaps it was made by an Order of Dominican nuns offering herbal remedies, therapeutic bathing, and astrological readings being that it contains numerous descriptions of medicinal plants and passages that focus on female physical and mental health, reproduction, and parenting. Still others claim that the whole thing was a hoax, written by Voynich himself on blank calfskin parchment he acquired in his original sale from the Jesuits. And of course there is that far-out theory that the alien lettering used cannot be deciphered simply because it was…written by extraterrestrial aliens. I don’t know, to be fair it’s remotely possible, we might as well consider that!
Whatever the case, to this day, 600 years later, nobody knows. Was this the greatest discovery ever made, and done so by a Polish guy? Perhaps someday we’ll find out.
Insanity
Wouldn’t it be nice if such fun, as in the above, were everlasting? Given recent events, reality tells us otherwise.
Perhaps many of us are searching for words to describe the back-to-back mass shooting tragedies. But even more so than the shootings themselves, we may be trying to understand why this keeps happening time and time again. Hearing Texas Governor Greg Abbott in a news conference following the mass slaying of, as of this writing, 19 little kids and 2 adults was, arguably, absolutely abominable. Not once did he mention the fact that a ‘modified’ military assault rifle was legally bought and sold to a civilian. Instead, ‘mental health’ was the sole culprit.
Of course, by now we know the reason for the bureaucratic hush-hush, right? To think that anybody can push a shopping cart up and down the aisles of a neighborhood 5 and 10 store, picking from the shelves perhaps a 6-pack of soda, a box of envelopes, and an AR-15 assault rifle, is preposterous. In the Buffalo tragedy, again, an assault-style rifle was used. Unfortunately, such is the power of politics.
Who’s to blame? The suspect? Or maybe the Administration, the gun lobbyists…or perhaps we the people? Following the bouncing ball, the whole issue may indeed begin with our desire to have guns. Understandably, owning a gun for self-protection, hunting, or target practice reasons is widely acceptable to most people. But how many more people will die before we the people realize that certain specific weapons are clearly designed for other than the above reasons and should rightfully be banned to the public? Arguably, drilling down on the heart of the matter, the only reason why these weapons are legally available to the public is either because not enough voters think that they shouldn’t be, or, not enough voters truly recognize the value of life’s worth enough to put in place strict measures to protect it. As a testament to the latter, just look at the abortion dilemma.
Since 2013, the year after the mass shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut, mass shootings, defined as the killing of four or more people at once, in the United States have nearly tripled. There have already been 213 mass shootings in 2022.
Insanity?
Oh Go Take a Hike
Get lost, go take a hike! How many times have we used this expression, or, how many times has the expression been used on us? Last Sunday while hearing two people on the street corner arguing and saying precisely that, I immediately thought of the annual foot pilgrimages to both Jasna Góra in Poland and to the Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa right here in the U.S. Who would’ve thought that a weekend ‘beef’ could be the inspiration for such an epiphany?
As you may have heard, each year a good number of devout and hearty pilgrims embark on a hiking adventure to Czestochowa’s famous chapel in the basilica of Jasna Góra Monastery. Last summer alone, about 40,000 people sporting an undeniable degree of bravado took to Poland’s country roads and pasturelands, some wearing boots, some wearing helmets aboard bikes, and the rest seated upon the saddles of horses. Come rain or shine all along the journey, these folks weren’t looking for local motels with hot showers and an internet café, but instead ‘roughed-it’ while sleeping in tents and eating canned goods and beef jerky.
And this 40,000 seasonal head-count happened during the pandemic. Typically absent such a global calamity, numbers of these pilgrims nearly double, such as was the case in 2019 when 70,000 able-bodied devotees descended on Jasna Góra over the course of that year. Apart from the walkers, many of whom take the opportunity to write poetry and sketch the landscape along the way, this year 185 bicycle pilgrimages came to Jasna Góra totaling 5,000 people. Over 380 people arrived in 13 running pilgrimages, eh, step aside Forrest Gump, and there were a few horseback pilgrimages of about 30 riders, including one covering 250 miles over the course of 11 days from the village of Zaręby Kościelne in eastern Poland.
Foot pilgrimages are the most popular of course. I had a chance to dive into a few maps and discovered that in Poland alone, the walking routes seem to come from virtually everywhere, over mountains, across rivers, through big cities and tiny towns. There were even a few that, when zoomed in on, seemed to purposely avoid any kind of human or animal population even though not doing so would shorten the route. Instead, these paths remained in Poland’s virtually pristine, remote wilderness areas as far as possible on the way to Czestochowa.
In addition to maybe the most populous pilgrimage departing from Warsaw, a few very popular treks begin in the cities of Radom, Krakow, Rzeszów, Podlasie, and Lublin. And get this, one of the longest routes to Jasna Góra is from the Polish town of Hel way up on the tip of a peninsula in the Baltic Sea. The journey covers 400 miles in 19 days. Do you think you could walk 21 miles per day?
Although the pilgrimages take place throughout the year, by far the most popular time is during summer when devotees plan to arrive at Jasna Góra for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary on August 15th. This date, as you may know, holds a special significance to many Polish Catholics who commemorate it in tandem with the anniversary of the ‘Miracle at the Vistula.’ In the summer of 1920, Soviet forces attempted to cross Poland in order to carry out Lenin’s plan to provoke communist revolution in Western Europe. Lenin hoped that if the Red Army seized Poland, the Soviets could offer direct support to revolutionaries in Germany. With the Bolsheviks setting their sights on Warsaw, Cardinal Edmund Dalbor, the Primate of Poland at the time, joined the country’s bishops at Jasna Góra and led an act of consecration of the Polish nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Three weeks later, on August 15, 1920, the Polish army halted the Red Army’s advance on the outskirts of Warsaw, driving them away from the city in subsequent days at warp speed which was an incredible feat in itself.
For the average pilgrim, this historic fact as well as the upcoming celebration of Our Lady of Jasna Góra on August 26th is the perfect week-and-a-half relaxer after all those miles! Said one pilgrim after an 11-day trek from Rzeszów, “I try to do the pilgrim’s walk every two years. I first made the trip at 27 years old, now I am 38. Yes I walk slower, but the prize stays the same. I reach Jasna Góra with deeper sense of faith.”
But let’s not forget, there’s also the Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa located in Doylestown, PA where a similar kind of ‘foot-feat’ takes place! You got it, since 1988, thousands of pilgrims have taken to the terrain in departing from St. Peter and Paul Church in Great Meadows, NJ. Since 1921, this Polish parish has been a staple in the local Polish-American community there and is the leading organizer for treks to the ‘American Jasna Gora.’ Each year, it leads a large group of people of all ages, from grandparents to young children, on a near 60-mile walk lasting four days and 3 nights. The pilgrims camp out in forests, state parks, and on farmland.
So the next time you find yourself taking in all of Poland’s sights along the roads, or for that matter the roads of New Jersey, don’t be surprised to spot a few ‘cross-country’ folks with backpacks and hiking sticks while glancing out your car window. They’re not hippies looking for a lift, perhaps as the stereotype goes, but rather deep-rooted devoted people who are using physically challenging efforts to enhance their faith.
Now if we could only find our hiking boots…
To Be or Not to Be...Incorruptible
Talk of the town is…it’s going to happen. According to a reporter-friend of mine based in Rome, lately there has been more than casual gossip about potentially re-exhuming the body of Saint John Paul II and putting it under glass for the public’s perpetual adoration.
As you may recall, immediately following John Paul II’s death and funeral, his body was encased in a quadruple-layered tomb made out near-nuclear-proof materials. In addition to possible beatification and sainthood, the College of Cardinals back then most likely had another future task in mind, and decided to place Wojtyla’s body in an underground vault directly beneath the main altar in St. Peter’s Basilica, in the same vicinity where St. Peter’s remains are.
First, the tan-colored cypress-wood coffin that was seen during John Paul II’s funeral, of course was sealed, and tied with three red silk ribbons. Next, it was lowered into a large zinc and lead casket, which was heat-soldered shut. This was a key step that you will want to refer back to in a few minutes, notably that it prevented any air from getting to the body. This zinc coffin was then adorned with three bronze plaques: a cross at the head of the coffin, a middle plaque with the Pope's name and the length of his life and pontificate, and a third with Pope John Paul II's personal coat of arms at the foot.
Next, the zinc and lead casket was then lowered into a larger walnut casket, bearing three more elaborate plaques. The walnut casket was shut with nails of pure 22K gold. Finally, the triple-tiered coffin was lowered into the ground, as the Pope specifically requested ‘ground or earth’ complementing his plain wooden casket wishes, and covered with a plain stone slab featuring his name and dates of his pontificate. The Pope asked that his burial be like that of Pope Paul VI, not in an elaborate sarcophagus, but in plain old bare earth. That is a key point.
Wojtyla’s remains lay in this tomb for six years before it was exhumed to prepare for his beatification in 2011. All went as planned as you know, the Pope was beatified and three years later became a Saint. Before the beatification, the triple-casket, walnut over zinc over cypress, was put on display at the main altar for people to pray over, however it of course remained sealed. After the beatification, the casket was moved to the chapel of St. Sebastian, located on the main floor of St. Peter’s Basilica, where it was once again encased in stone.
Recalling the earlier mention of an entirely air-sealed encasement, you may have figured out that there must have been a good reason for this. Did those who planned the Pope’s funeral have future plans in mind revolving around the topic of incorruptibility? This, as you may be aware, is the belief that divine intervention allows some human bodies, specifically saints, to avoid the normal process of decomposition after death as a sign of their holiness. Bodies that undergo little or no decomposition, or delayed decomposition, are sometimes referred to as incorrupt or incorruptible. So if divine intervention is at play, why all the fuss, a slammed-shut and sealed coffin, golden nails, why all the garb?
And here is where the spark of controversy plays in. Wojtyla, as you know, expressed clearly that he wished to be buried with ‘no frills,’ rather, in plain and simple fashion as was pointed out above. One can probably assume then, had Wojtyla been aware of such plans, he would have most definitely not wished for any kind of effort be made for potential preservation of his body. After all, if God wanted his body, as well as any others in history, to be preserved, there would be no reason for soldered-shut coffins, embalming, sweet-smelling oils, or cosmetic wax to be used as had been done with some other people deemed to be ‘incorruptible.’
John Paul II was not embalmed, unlike the former occupant of his tomb in the crypt, Pope John XXIII, who actually was embalmed with formaldehyde despite initial denials. However, Wojtyla’s airtight casket didn’t exactly rule out the idea that his preparers had some kind of hidden agenda. Just look at what eventually happened to John XXIII, officially classified as an ‘incorruptible.’ Although his body was in fair shape upon exhumation, most likely due to an air-locked tomb and the injected formaldehyde, it was then painted with wax and it is now on display in St. Peter’s Basilica. Again, if God wishes incorruptibility, who are we to doctor-up the body? The big question then to ask is, to what extent do we cosmetically ‘fake’ incorruptibility to make it seem like God is responsible?
We can go both ways on this. Understandably, the College of Cardinals probably predicted that one day there would be justification for Pope John Paul II’s beatification, and rightly so. Naturally it would follow that such an occasion would call for pre-planned elaboration and a high degree of fanfare to ensure Wojtyla’s unembalmed body wouldn’t get deteriorated from air. But on the flip side, still another question might be asked: Would Wojtyla have wanted that?
And now, perhaps adding more fuel to the fire of potential controversy, there has been some administrative chatter about possibly removing the Pope’s body from its 4-layer encasement in St. Sebastian’s chapel and putting it on display under sealed, airtight glass just as had been done to John XXIII.
It makes you wonder, where the heck is the integrity and honor of abiding by one’s wishes, especially a Pope’s? Clearly, John Paul II did not want to be adored in some sort of cosmetically preserved visual state. He wanted his life’s works to be what we adored. We seem to be continually ignorant of this and make the same mistake in other people we commemorate, such as with our wartime heroes, in that we don’t seem to think of what the ‘commemoratees’ would favor, but only of what we as the ‘commemorators’ would favor.
How about honoring the wishes of the dead?
A Whole Lotta Garbage
New York City has yet to experience a decent snowfall. Just last week, citizens manning the southernmost outpost of Elm Park, Staten Island woke to the rumble of Department of Sanitation trucks creeping up neighborhood blocks. But they weren’t picking up our garbage. Rather, as homeowners’ cans stayed still on the curb, these behemoths were spreading that dreaded substance known to tear up concrete…rock salt. Of course, it’s dirt cheap, so should we blame the city for yet another way to compromise infrastructure?
But the main point of this anecdote lies not in the garbage bypass, an understandable and rational reason when dangerous, icy snow comes. The whole ridiculousness of it all was that…there was no snow. Undoubtedly, you’ve heard news reports of garbage pile-ups in the face of sanitation sick-outs, but these guys were on the job, working, and still the garbage wasn’t being picked up. Frustrated by the ordeal, upon the next scheduled pickup which had snow in the forecast, I found myself waiting up until 2am one early morning, which is the typical time for garbage collection, only to run outside and ensure that my garbage would be picked up. I wonder how many other folks in the neighborhood regularly cut their sleep in half during winter on account of these citywide governmental blunders?
How to Deal with a Cold Spouse
On the flip side, perhaps winter does have its bright moments. Says Tom Danischewski who lives in the suburbs of Syracuse, “Since my retirement several years ago, I’ve learned to love the snow and ice.” The mild-mannered man recently turned 70 years old and always asks Santa, which is his wife of 45 years, for new fishing gear to support his passion for ice fishing around the Finger Lakes region. “She used to buy me fishing lures as gifts for Christmas and my birthday and I didn’t know what to think, like she wanted me out of the house. But now I ask for them outright so she doesn’t feel bad.” You’ve got to love a guy such as Tom, who knows how to deal with the cold, or at least a spousal relationship.
Rosebud
Rosebud. Of course, nearly everybody may immediately recognize that single word, made famous by Orson Welles in the 1941 film Citizen Kane. As you probably know, the film draws a parallel to the real-life story of newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst, but despite his infuriated attempts to ban the film in media advertising, Citizen Kane became a synonymous logo with Hearst himself. Even when his son died, readers recognized who it was, when their newspaper headlines printed ‘Son Of Citizen Kane Dies.’ Getting back to Rosebud, of course that was Kane’s childhood companion, the name of his sled. Do you remember sleigh riding when you were a kid? My family had a bunch of sleds, and a 5-seat toboggan. After a snowfall, a trek up to a local hilly golf course was the norm. After a few runs, nobody wanted to leave. And back then, snowfalls came regularly. But today, for snow lovers, New York City would be lucky if it got more than two days of sleigh-ridable snowfall. Rosebud? Some of us can certainly relate to Citizen Kane’s last words.
52 weeks in the newsroom
Cigarette smoke-filled rooms with a non-stop barrage of typewriter keys hitting 20lb paper. Reporters with loosened neckties or discarded hi-heels all cooped up arguing over lead stories amidst a room full of mess, phones ringing off the hook, and editors trying to harness the whole situation. I thought you’d like to know exactly what goes into bringing the news to you each week. Sound like something out of the 1940’s? Well, perhaps we’re a bit more refined these days, but the fervor hasn’t really changed that much. Let’s highlight some of those ‘typed’ keys…both in the headlines and in your feedback from the past year 2021.
JANUARY
- In a speech, it was mentioned that Polish visitors to West Point Academy had asked cadets about Kosciuszko and where his memorial garden was. The cadets knew nothing about Kosciuszko. What? – Stephen C., NY
- Once you hear this, you will find it hard not to tap your feet or seek out a Polish wedding so you can sweep around that inviting dance floor. Promoting happiness and joy, Matty would agree that hearing this CD would certainly make us all smile more! – Karen Kushner, NY on Polish Radio Polka Band CD.
FEBRUARY
- The verdict was in. Surely Poles must have been among the lost witnesses to this infamous event; they must have at least heard the shots from those Tommy guns. Lost witnesses, corruption, and calamity on St. Valentine’s Day
- How many Poles are buried on Alderney Island? Is anyone else but this daring archaeologist interested in finally recognizing these prisoners thrown into a pit who are now nothing but a mixed pile of bones? Unearthed, unknown Poles among the numerous Nazi killing fields
MARCH
· I’ve heard Bayonne, NJ is a better place to shop for Polish food than in Brooklyn. Around New York City, what area holds the best Polish food? – Frank, NY
· By 1942, it was estimated that around 120,000 POWs in the Żagań area died of hunger, disease, and maltreatment. The scores of sorrowful scars upon Żagań, Poland
APRIL
- My study of WW2 Polish fighter pilots came across ‘Dziubek’ Horbaczewski who authors argue committed suicide. His plane and bodily remains were identified in 1947, after being shot down by a German Focke-Wulf over France in 1944, but his letters revealed that he doubted Poland would be free of the Soviets and so did not want to return. Is there any further proof of this? – Pete, NY
- Roughly 5,000 Polish immigrants fought for the Union army while only a fifth of that number served in the Confederate army. A little top-sided you might say, but there may have been a good reason for that. A fistful of a few more Polish jellybeans
MAY
· Fans of the 1975 film Dog Day Afternoon starring Al Pacino might be interested to know that the main character played by Pacino was based on the true story of John Wojtowicz, who in the summer of 1972 attempted to rob a bank in Brooklyn in an ordeal lasting 14 hours. Fearful facts and films of the 1970s
· What ever happened to the man who shot John Paul II? Did he get released from jail and is he still alive? – Donna, NY
JUNE
- Close, but no cigar. Sorry, but it’s Na zdrowie. The z is not capitalized, and it’s pronounced Nah ZDROH-vyeh, not Nah ZDROH-vi. – Krystyna, NY
- Bottom of the bag credits went to Szawlowski Packers of Hatfield, MA. Standing there with my mouth wide open in awe, I imagine my fellow shoppers thought I was enduring some kind of epiphany. It’s all about a Polish potato grower
JULY
- Got a five ingredients or fewer recipe for Polish pickled peppers? – Stella, CT
- Edward Klabiński, known by the Frenchies as Monsieur Édouard Klabinski, holds the distinction of being the first cyclist from Poland to take part in the Tour de France, doing so in 1947. Flashback forays of Polish power on two wheels
AUGUST
- Will New York have the Pulaski Parade this year? I was just wondering. – Kathy, KY
- Folks may come for the polka and pierogi, but essentially the palate prefers the taste of the shrine, so to speak. It’s all about Czestochowa
SEPTEMBER
- In 1990, Pope John Paul II openly declared in a papal audience that “animals possess a soul and men must love and feel solidarity with our smaller brethren.” Unpopularity of a Polish pet owner’s probe
- It was about Tom Kaminski, the helicopter-based traffic reporter for WPIX news in New York City who was the first broadcaster to report that something had happened at the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. Polish sky-rider with the teddy-bear touch
OCTOBER
- Finally, all rolled up and in the back confines of a lower cabinet drawer was a T-shirt. I think I was trying to preserve it somehow given the proclamation on the front: Jeszcze Polska Nie Zgineła. Nine nice notables for Polish Heritage Month
- There’s still time to brush up on your Halloween trivia skills with this All Hallows’ Polish Eve crossword puzzle. An All-Hallows’ Polish Eve
NOVEMBER
- Especially deceased loved ones whose ‘other side’ of life had never been published. I’m sure they, somehow looking over us from above, would be quite pleased to finally have a few happy stories being read about them for a change. Where are the untold happier life stories of our vets?
- I know you like animals but did you know that NYC mayoral candidate Curtis Sliwa owns 16 cats? – Cheryl, NY
DECEMBER
- Thank you for mentioning St. Stanislaus Kostka Church and Fr. Jacek in your book. I enjoy reading and bought another book for my friend. – Dorota, NY
- Being a teacher is a constant evolution. One has to constantly pursue new ideas and ways to connect to children. Making a strong connection is the key to everything! – Magdalena Pecak in Talks and tells of a Polish Saturday School teacher
16 Cats and The Best Damn Deli Haven
Q: I know you like animals but did you know that NYC Mayoral candidate Curtis Sliwa owns 16 cats? – Cheryl, NY
A: Indeed I did Cheryl, thanks for the mention! Both Sliwa and his wife are animal activists and if elected, he vows to create a “no-kill” shelter system and put an end to the horse carriage industry. Sliwa recently released his “13-Point Animal Welfare Plan” that outlines the whole deal. By the way, furry felines aside, I hope you knew that Sliwa is a Polish-American too!
***
Q: Congratulations on the publishing of your new book! I ordered the hardcover edition. What inspired you to write it if I may ask? – Dorothy, NJ
A: Thank you very much Dorothy! Much appreciated! About eight months ago I embarked on a co-authorship idea with a friend, however soon after we began, his wife passed away and so he was not able to continue. I then decided to pursue the idea solo. It was certainly an experience and I was honored that my friend supported my effort all the way through.
***
Q: Fantastic news, finally! I always knew someday you would offer a book! Will the book be available in Barnes & Noble being that I like to shop there and what is the exact title of your book? – Donna, NY
A: Thanks Donna! I appreciate the enthusiasm! Yes, I’ve negotiated a deal for physical copies to be on the shelves of selected bookstores. My book is called “E-Notes and Anecdotes: 50 First Impressions of Musical Masterpieces Through the Ages, Philosophically Speaking.” Bookstores though may have limited quantities, so to ensure you get a copy as soon as possible, your best bet would be to order it on Amazon.com.
***
Q: I received your new book and automatically read about the Polish song Cyt Cyt first. My question is, you wrote about this folk tune first being loosely created from homemade instruments, why did Mazowsze change the original version and add singers and new instruments? Very nice book, congratulations and thank you! – Stanley, NY
A: Thank you very much Stanley! Good question, and I believe the answer was that these original songs using makeshift instruments may have sounded a bit raw to the naked ear. I guess the trick was to try to retain the original melody, but enhance it using newer technology so as to be more attractive and pleasing to the listener. You’ve got me thinking now, I’d love to hear those unedited original versions just for the heck of it!
***
Q: Your crossword puzzles are real brain-drainers, I can figure out maybe half the answers. I like them a lot though and they are a refreshing break from the New York Times puzzles! – Stephen, NY
A: Thanks Stephen! Draining the brain can only lead to filling it up again!
***
Q: How did the New York City Pulaski Day Parade turn out? – Barb, NY
A: I was looking hi and lo for you Barb! Just kidding, everything went very well! Sunshine and fine temperature made the event a total pleasure to be a part of. It was so crowded with Pol-Ams that I backed into Curtis Sliwa at one point and almost knocked off his Guardian Angel’s red beret, but he didn’t mind. You know, if he gets to be Mayor, I’m thinking that the typical protective insulation going along with the position might be loosened, just because he’s a real down-to-earth “people” person. By the way, for some mysterious reason parade marchers could smell kielbasa cooking during the entire trek up Fifth Ave. from 36th St. to 53rd St. Maybe somebody brought along a walkable grill?
***
Q: Was the battle ever fought and finished over who has the best Polish delis, Greenpoint, Brooklyn or Bayonne, NJ? – Frank, NY
A: Frank, I believe Wikipedia may soon enter that conflict as the longest running battle to date. Greenpoint dates back to 1645, first settled by a Norwegian immigrant. Bayonne beats that by twenty-two years though, having been settled in 1623 by French Huguenots. As far as the Poles, they trickled in both places much later obviously so the mystery continues as to which location had the very first Polish food stronghold and continues to rule. My own opinion is that Bayonne, pictured in the photo from the 1960s, may win in that category being that it is exactly four times bigger than Greenpoint which is only 2.75 square miles in size. Bayonne, in 2010, had 63,000 people which was almost twice the population as Greenpoint that same year. So, based on these statistics, I’m going to pull a quote from one of my favorite movies, the 1957 film 12 Angry Men when Lee J. Cobb says, “What, are we all going crazy in here or something, why don’t you listen to the facts?” and side with Bayonne, New Jersey as being the most likely champion of best Polish deli’s. Eh, side note, Cobb was the last juror to be convinced by Henry Fonda and changed his mind in the end so…the verdict may still change.
Probing the Unpopular
Having received quite a curious inquiry a few weeks ago, I thought I’d open up the floor early to allow our thinktanks to ponder. The question, from an animal aficionado reader, asked if her pet cat possesses a soul and why there isn’t any talk about the possibility of animals having souls. Certainly an unpopular probing question, and maybe even one that is shunned.
We never think about this possibility, do we? Traditionally we have been geared to focus exclusively on the souls of Mankind, never even considering if animals, or other life forms such as a butterfly, have such a thing as a soul. Most people think that heaven exists, and it is a place of blissful existence. It would logically follow then, since heaven is such a wonderful place and being that all things are possible with God, that it would be reasonable to conclude that our beloved pets will be there with us. The trouble is, we never thought to think “outside of the box,” and few, if any, of our modern-day religious leaders have encouraged us to do so. When was the last time you heard a Sunday homily on this topic?
Most homilies, it’s fair to say, are based on biblical scripture. Let’s go back to the Garden of Eden story then, as we all know it. The decision to disobey God by eating the apple was made by us, not by the animals. Technically, you would not be incorrect in concluding that animals should have an automatic entry into heaven since they have no elevated conscience to choose right from wrong, such as humans have. The next question may then be, is heaven exclusively for humans who use their conscience to choose right over wrong? Most people would say yes. However, hold it a minute. What about handicapped humans, the mentally impaired who may not have developed such a thinking mechanism? Or, for that matter, a newborn infant? If we agree that such a mechanism of conscience is therefore not a prerequisite to enter heaven, then why are we not considering other life forms, such as this reader’s cat, that do not employ such a mechanism of conscience?
Some in the religious community may stand their ground in saying that heaven is unlike anything we know here on earth, that our pets do not have souls, and that our awareness in heaven transcends even the most affectionate, loving degree that any human can have while here on earth. In other words, once in heaven, the reader who submitted this inquiry wouldn’t even be aware that she loved her pet cat because she would be in a higher state of conscious love. Gee, that sounds very noble, putting this woman’s soul on a heavenly pedestal and saying she’s risen beyond any earthly love. It’s actually kind of a callous insult, isn’t it? For a human to expend their greatest effort in loving a pet, why then should they be robbed of the fruits of their love by not seeing their pets in heaven? For what is heaven, but the fulfillment of the maximum efforts of humanly love.
Yet all hope is not lost among our mainstream religious leaders who fail to publicize the topic. And we have our own Karol Wojtyla to thank for it! Not since St. Francis of Assisi has anyone really offered any kind of outward expression regarding the souls of animals. In 1990, Pope John Paul II openly declared in a papal audience that “animals possess a soul and men must love and feel solidarity with our smaller brethren.” He added that animals are the “fruit of the creative action of the Holy Spirit and merit respect” and that they are “as near to God as men are.” These were extremely powerful and significant statements. Obviously putting animals in the same proximity to God as Man is, says a lot. You can imagine how many grumbles there must have been!
Fr. Jack Wintz, O.F.M. has written a wonderful book specifically on this topic, called “Will I See My Dog in Heaven?” In the book, Fr. Wintz cites several proofs that God desires the whole family of creation to be included in his plan of salvation. If animals were of no significance in the overall picture, then St. Francis would most certainly not have devoted so much time to them.
But we’re not finished yet. Now that we’ve broached the possibility of a lovable cat’s soul, what about the stray dog in the forest who nobody loves? What about a pet bird? What about the lizard that a kid grows to love as a pet? Do reptiles, and maybe insects too, have souls? Who decides to what degree an other-than-human life form possesses a soul and goes to heaven?
As you can see, such discussion shakes our foundational beliefs. We tend to shy away from this topic because it does not fit with the status quo of our cultural norms and our spirituality. Just imagine if we pursued such inquiry full-throttle. It’s not hard to realize the upheaval of life we’d be embarking on. Consolation may come, though, when we remember that analogous to this, Nicolaus Copernicus did sort of the same thing, right?
Doll Power
Big news is…my Krakowianka dolls managed to escape the floods unscathed. You heard right, the little boy and little girl duo all decked out in colorful costumes actually spent the night on the second floor of my home while hurricane Ida bombarded the area with torrential rain. Had the kids been in the basement you see, I would perhaps now be reporting their funeral arrangements.
What a relief, but that’s far from what I can say about my other property. Although I deeply savor an evening rain due to its imparting tranquility and atmosphere for contemplation, on last week’s occasion it almost caused me to hide in a closet. No sleep of course that night, neither did my six cats fall off to slumberland. Instead, a glance out the window witnessed a new sort of ‘river’ forging its way down the street. Riding on its waves were plenty of garbage cans, several boxes, a rocking chair, and a bed mattress to name just a few items. I’m not sure if someone had been sleeping on that mattress though, and perhaps went overboard.
However when the sun came up in the morning, closer to home found an ideal opportunity to go swimming, if that was your thing. You see, my basement was flooded, along with maybe half of the homes in the entire area. Experiencing a new kind of ‘wet foot’ walk, not since a stroll through Hezekiah’s Tunnel in Jerusalem, which was a water channel cut out of the rock to ensure the city received water in times of war, did I ever have so much stimulation. There was no time to curse and swear, as basement boxes, rugs, and sheetrock walls were soaking up the 3-inches of rain water. I immediately opened the sewer drain valve, something I should have anticipated and done before the storm, and the water began to exit. I’m glad those Krakowianka dolls weren’t among the cat balls and clothespins heading for the drain valve.
No fewer than a dozen garbage bags full of soaking wet clothes, books, rugs, and other absorbent goods were filled and put out for collection, joining a picnic of sorts in which the entire neighborhood participated. After spic-and-spanning the floor to eliminate the dried rain residue, a dehumidifier served as the final step to make things ‘a-right again. But realizing full recovery would be hit with a twist, and leave it up to this column to expose it.
Can you believe that my insurance company will not pay for any damages? Of course you can believe it, what else is new? After taking twenty photos of everything from a submerged hot water heater to an electric circuit-soaked amplifier, and from vinyl tile and particle-board door damage to those sheetrocked walls mentioned above, the insurance rep cordially informed me that my policy doesn’t cover flooding. Indeed he was correct after I checked the fine print on the policy. ‘Correct’ may be the ironic word in all of this, correct?
Although most policies have a hurricane deductible, and I invite you to review your own homeowner’s policy, ironically, they add that flooding clause in what appears to be a politically correct tactic. “Ra, ra, ra,” so boast the ads on television pitching for these policies as you may have seen, but in reality, it’s more like a game of politics, and we thought politics only belonged to politicians. Together with wind, what in God’s name is the biggest factor in a hurricane? Water! So much for the hurricane deductible.
What has life become, some kind of conniving scheme to say one thing and do another? What happened to good old-fashioned moral and ethical conscience? Have we become so numb to realizing that our words and actions have effects on recipients, instead feeling justified that we are promoting a falsity simply because “everybody’s doing it,” so to speak? It says on my policy that most insurance companies do not cover flood insurance, along with ‘nice’ words suggesting that the policyowner consult the Federal Government’s National Flood Insurance Program for flood insurance. As if, this insurance company is trying to justify themselves using cordiality in its words. This is the absolute epitome of misaligned ethics, when we try to get ‘off the hook’ by being pleasant so it doesn’t bother our conscience. Indeed, the ‘conscience’ has drastically changed from the old days, hasn’t it?
Through it all, my two dolls remain standing, although I’m not sure how they can stand all of this. However, they are a refreshing image that not everything has gone to hell. Sometimes, dolls can be more authentic than people and policies, I guess.
Watered-Down Olympics?
I’m wondering, perhaps as you are, if such an overabundance of events at the Olympic Games perhaps strays a bit from the Olympics of olde where merely a few disciplines were on the agenda. At what point, shall we speculate, is an activity deemed a sport and worthy of representation in the Olympic Games? Of course, there are procedures in place which qualify such events, but the question then becomes, who is moving the margin thereby allowing such events to be included, and why?
For example, understandably the Canoeing event can be competitive to a degree. What that degree is may be subject to debate however. Has this new sport been borrowed from the longstanding familiar sport of Rowing which is also featured at the Games? Additionally, there are also sub-disciplines under Canoeing, such as Canoeing Slalom and Canoeing Sprint. Now, is this just a bit of overkill?
On the positive side, such diversity and sub-sectioning of sporting events obviously allows more athletes a chance to compete. However, on the flip side, by doing so, are we somehow watering-down the podium winners from long-past Games, those athletes who fought hard and beat out a lot of competitors, who now hold the same status as today’s podium winners who, arguably, haven’t really matched the same degree of effort?
It’s troubling. But, it’s not surprising, is it? So much of today’s life seems to be a watered-down version of the past. From outward governing to inward religion, we will never see the standards that our grandparents lived by. The recent Am-Pol Eagle editorial on wycinanki may sum up the sentiment, as how can one equate the authenticity and skillset of yesteryear’s homemade handcrafts with today’s mass-produced, impersonal, machine-made ones? Unfortunately, we seem to be going in the direction of the latter, and the same may hold true at the Olympics.
This is a Pickle
Q: On your critique of the 1-hour-a-week Catholic in response to a recent question, I’m one of those Catholics and don’t like to be condemned. After all, the church lays down guidelines for its parishioners, worshiping every Sunday and holy days is considered good enough to keep the faithful in good standing. – Margie, New York
A: Sorry that you feel condemned, Margie. It’s great to follow guidelines as it’s a testament to one’s devotion, but the point of that exchange was that I doubt God would prefer us as just a herd of cattle on the drive to salvation. Sadly, too many religions today seem overly confident in structuring a path to heaven. Rather than 1-hour a week, should not our devotion to spirituality be every waking second of every day, encompassing every single thought and action we take? If this sounds like an extremist stance, then our spirituality has been left reduced to just another cog in the wheel.
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Q: Got a five ingredients or fewer recipe for Polish pickled peppers? – Stella, Connecticut
A: Indeed I do Stella, but if you want them to taste good using only five ingredients, it will require you to first recite the phrase: Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, a peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, where’s the peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked? Go fetch 1 cup of water, 1/2 cup of distilled white vinegar, 1/3 cup of white sugar, salt to taste, and 3 red bell peppers cut in half. Combine the water, vinegar, sugar, and salt in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Add the peppers, reduce heat to low, and simmer until they are softened, about 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer the peppers and liquid to jars, cover with lids, and refrigerate overnight.
***
Q: Since you’re a skeptic on UFOs, how do you explain the recent sightings off of the CA coast? – Damian, Florida
A: Thanks Damian, but as the great Willy Wonka put it, “pure imagination.” Perhaps we should not be so gullible in once again getting sucker-punched in igniting the frenzy of mysteria within us. Maybe it’s the Air Force, maybe it’s Elon Musk testing out a new toy, who knows? As far as UFOs go, when one lands on the Washington D.C. Mall and gives us a chance to say “Klaatu barada nikto,” I’ll sing that song by the Monkees…I’m a believer, yeah, yeah, yeah.
***
Q: I just adopted an adorable little kitten from a shelter and I named her Wtorek since I got her on a Tuesday afternoon. She is 6 months old. Do you recommend hard or soft food? – Elizabeth, New York
A: Nice name, Elizabeth! Suggestion would be wet food for the next six months, then continue doing so but also put out a bowl of dry food which helps clean the teeth a bit. Got a photo?
Flashback Forays
Given the big letdown this year of Poland’s presence at the famed Tour de France bicycle race, I thought it would be nice to limit our losses, save some Kleenex, and instead walk away with some degree of joy by reflecting on a few notable Poles who have shined at the great race over the years. The race of course takes place every summer along the roads of France and this year spans some 2,102 torturous miles over 21 days of racing. I was lucky enough to spend three seasons training and racing in France, cherishing every inch of the road.
We have a bit of late breaking news. As pointed out in last week’s column, occasionally teams wait until the last minute to select some riders. You’d better believe it baby, because 31-year old veteran Pole Rafal Majka is now in the race. He got a phone call from his United Arab Emirates team manager who told him to quickly pack a suitcase and hop on over to France. Majka’s job specifically will be to help last year’s winner Tadej Pogacar climb three key mountains in hopes of winning the race once again. I bet the bookies in Vegas now have the odds on that he does.
Here’s a trip down memory bike lane…
► Edward Klabiński, known by the Frenchies as Monsieur Édouard Klabinski, holds the distinction of being the first cyclist from Poland to take part in the Tour de France, doing so in 1947. He finished in 34th place, interestingly, that Tour was the 34th edition of the race as well. It was the first Tour since 1939 due to some years being cancelled because of World War II. The 1947 race was actually one of the longest in history at 2,884 miles. Organizers did not invite a German team, and the only Italians invited were Franco-Italians already living in France. The post-war peace treaty had not been officially signed yet so technically France was still at war.
Klabiński caught some fortune even to be in the race at all. Since organizers invited ten teams of ten cyclists each, the plan was to have a joint Dutch-British team, but the Dutch cyclists protested because the British cyclists were too inexperienced, so the Brits were replaced by pick-up cyclists from other countries and the team was called Netherlands/French Strangers. Eh, nice name to have on your back, right? Of the 100 guys that began the race, only 53 finished, making Klabiński’s effort all the more incredible.
Hold on to your ‘chapeau’, because Klabiński came back the following July and finished in 18th place! The 1948 Tour was even tougher at 3,058 miles long. Fortunately, the 27-year old had made a mark for himself the previous year and was living in France so the organizers put him on a team called the Internationals along with nine other non-French cyclists. Vive la Fra…Polonia!
► With the start of the Tour de France just days ago, our next feature goes to the one and only Lech Piasecki, a true hero of Poland! Piasecki was a time trial specialist, the type of bicycle race pitting man against clock in an all-out exertive effort. He has always been one of my favorite cyclists, but not so much for his tenacious strength on two wheels, but more so for his intellectual moxy for making big deals. You see, after Piasecki won the Amateur World Championship in 1985, a hoard of pro cycling teams bombarded him with huge contract offers. The Italian team Colnago won over his heart, but at a price. Despite the official report, the word on the street was that Piasecki, now realizing his worth, petitioned the Polish Cycling Federation to garnish another deal with Colnago before he signed his deal. The Federation would only release Piasecki with “an ample supply of racing bicycles for the development of Poland’s cycling program”. In short, Poland got the bikes, and Colnago got Piasecki, who was largely responsible for today’s Polish cycling sport.
Piasecki’s 1987 Tour de France performance was nothing short of extraordinary. On day 1, he had the fastest time until narrowly beaten by another cyclist crossing the line three seconds faster. However, Piasecki wore the leader’s yellow jersey after finishing ahead of that guy on day 2 and kept it on his back on day 3 after finishing first along with his whole team in what’s called a team time trial. But after he lost the lead the following day, he eventually had to abandon the race due to illness. Still, not a bad take-home gift.
► The saddest moment for any rider in the Tour de France is having to abandon the race. I recall the great Irish star Sean Kelly, the fastest man on two wheels, sobbing in child’s tears and being forced to quit after fracturing his collarbone at the 1987 Tour. I also vividly remember Bruno Wojtinek, a Polish-French rider who my sister told me about and I had wanted to meet, pulled to the side of the road at that same Tour and abandoned. He was completely spent and had no energy left in his tank. Really sad to see as his career could have been quite different had he finished that race. For years leading up to the 1987 Tour, Wojtinek was a superstar, either winning or finishing in the top five in multiple races. But after that one incident, everything went downhill. He retired in 1989.
► Lastly, to give you an idea of exactly how hard this race is, take a look at that photo. No, that’s not something out of a Frankenstein film, those are the legs of then 27-year old Pawel Poljanski midway through the 2017 Tour. If you’re wondering how this can be, Dr. Bradley Launikonis from the University of Queensland’s School of Biomedical Science explains: “There is blood pooling in his veins which is why you’re seeing them so visibly. There’s a high level of blood being pushed into his legs for long periods of time, and it’s still in there post-exercise. It’s not going to happen to someone who’s doing recreational exercise. It’s clearly something that’s only going to happen in elite athletes, like these guys riding in massive cycling events.”
Tune in to see such legs as well as our Polish duo at the Tour de France seen on NBCSN network.
168 Hours
Q: I am debating whether to take my 88-year old mom to attend Sunday Mass as she has been watching televised Masses for over a year now. Why hasn’t the church enforced guidelines for the elderly as a precaution? - Dorothy, NJ
A: Well, to be perfectly frank, I think if all religious authorities were truly authentic in their faith, they would be telling all followers, especially the elderly, to stay home in order to be completely safe. Any reasonably minded person would conclude that watching services on television, praying the rosary, reading the Bible, Quran, Bhagavad Gita, or whatever is applicable to one’s faith, are all perfectly satisfying to God in the midst of a global health crisis. Instead, rational minds such as yours may ask the question, is there another motif for downplaying a stay-at-home directive? Perhaps the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ philosophy is part of the reason because the longer people stay home from services, the less likely they are to return to them. It’s a philosophy applicable to almost everything.
***
Q: You often reference the wisdom of our grandparents which I like. I continue to wonder, are we smarter or dumber than the people that lived hundreds of years before us? - Frank, NY
A: Thanks Frank. Every culture thinks that it’s at the height of secular and spiritual maturity and intellectualism. Who among the ancient Egyptians considered that in a few thousand years thinking would be different? Nobody, absolutely nobody. Instead, just as they did then, we sleep soundly at night without questioning our own cultural ‘norms.’ We look back at the Aztecs and say, “Oh my, how could anyone sacrifice humans to a god, oh what primitive ghastly thinking.” But we don’t want to consider that a thousand years from now, people will probably be saying the exact same thing about some activity we currently consider to be normal. Are we smarter than our ancestors? We will be on the day we admit that we aren’t.
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Q: Thank you for the insight into my earlier question. My next concerns our children and if they are taking away anything memorable from the Mass and its homilies? My daughter used to rave about the homilies of a priest but that was years ago and not like today. - Donna, NY
A: Thanks as always Donna. Too many kids today don’t even go to Mass, and what about the future kids of these kids, do we expect they will go? Unfortunately, at this rate, 100 years from now faith institutions such as the Catholic Church may be, I’m sorry to say, virtually extinct. Respectfully to our priests, let’s be perfectly honest here, how many parishioners young and old remember a homily an hour after leaving Mass? Homilies need to be intertwined with daily current events be them political, social, sexual, etc. Taking bold stands, calling out politicians for hypocrisy, and acting with leadership. By refraining from this, the Church faces the future danger of morphing into yet another one of our politically correct administrative humdrums, and in doing so, would cause parishioners to simply go through the motions at Sunday Mass with no proactive takeaway. Sitting around the dinner table, do parents and their kids talk about the priest’s homily, or about the latest news on some celebrity or football player? Too many Catholics are putting in their weekly 1 hour at Mass, but going back home and acting otherwise, even far from grace the other 167 hours. Donna, if Christian institutions truly want to survive via today’s kids, they had better engage the parents first with real-time, street-relevant homilies.
Q: I am debating whether to take my 88-year old mom to attend Sunday Mass as she has been watching televised Masses for over a year now. Why hasn’t the church enforced guidelines for the elderly as a precaution? - Dorothy, NJ
A: Well, to be perfectly frank, I think if all religious authorities were truly authentic in their faith, they would be telling all followers, especially the elderly, to stay home in order to be completely safe. Any reasonably minded person would conclude that watching services on television, praying the rosary, reading the Bible, Quran, Bhagavad Gita, or whatever is applicable to one’s faith, are all perfectly satisfying to God in the midst of a global health crisis. Instead, rational minds such as yours may ask the question, is there another motif for downplaying a stay-at-home directive? Perhaps the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ philosophy is part of the reason because the longer people stay home from services, the less likely they are to return to them. It’s a philosophy applicable to almost everything.
***
Q: You often reference the wisdom of our grandparents which I like. I continue to wonder, are we smarter or dumber than the people that lived hundreds of years before us? - Frank, NY
A: Thanks Frank. Every culture thinks that it’s at the height of secular and spiritual maturity and intellectualism. Who among the ancient Egyptians considered that in a few thousand years thinking would be different? Nobody, absolutely nobody. Instead, just as they did then, we sleep soundly at night without questioning our own cultural ‘norms.’ We look back at the Aztecs and say, “Oh my, how could anyone sacrifice humans to a god, oh what primitive ghastly thinking.” But we don’t want to consider that a thousand years from now, people will probably be saying the exact same thing about some activity we currently consider to be normal. Are we smarter than our ancestors? We will be on the day we admit that we aren’t.
***
Q: Thank you for the insight into my earlier question. My next concerns our children and if they are taking away anything memorable from the Mass and its homilies? My daughter used to rave about the homilies of a priest but that was years ago and not like today. - Donna, NY
A: Thanks as always Donna. Too many kids today don’t even go to Mass, and what about the future kids of these kids, do we expect they will go? Unfortunately, at this rate, 100 years from now faith institutions such as the Catholic Church may be, I’m sorry to say, virtually extinct. Respectfully to our priests, let’s be perfectly honest here, how many parishioners young and old remember a homily an hour after leaving Mass? Homilies need to be intertwined with daily current events be them political, social, sexual, etc. Taking bold stands, calling out politicians for hypocrisy, and acting with leadership. By refraining from this, the Church faces the future danger of morphing into yet another one of our politically correct administrative humdrums, and in doing so, would cause parishioners to simply go through the motions at Sunday Mass with no proactive takeaway. Sitting around the dinner table, do parents and their kids talk about the priest’s homily, or about the latest news on some celebrity or football player? Too many Catholics are putting in their weekly 1 hour at Mass, but going back home and acting otherwise, even far from grace the other 167 hours. Donna, if Christian institutions truly want to survive via today’s kids, they had better engage the parents first with real-time, street-relevant homilies.
Unearthed, Unknown
Forty-four thousand. Like me, at first you may not believe in your wildest imagination that this could have been the actual number of Nazi camps existing during World War II. However, incredibly, historians have now concluded…that was the case. These camps, designated as concentration, death, forced-labor, POW, and others dotted the entirety of Europe. Of course, we all knew of the dozen or so infamous ones like Dachau, Treblinka, Buchenwald, and Auschwitz-Birkenau, but as we’ll see from one example, certainly the perils of this reality were far, far more than what was known, or perhaps, what was made public.
Upon first learning of this gargantuan number, I immediately concluded that forensic archaeologists, excavators, and the like are making fantastic new discoveries in the course of their normal pursuits. Finally, the world can know the truth of what lies beneath the ground in certain places, the number of Jews, Poles, and other “socially deviant and inferior” people as they were called that are still buried there, and what really happened at these camps.
Yet, scratching my head…wait a minute, I thought. That’s all very interesting, but these things occurred eighty years ago. You mean, it took that long for revelations of gruesome discoveries to come full circle? As mentioned above, there were a handful of camps that immediately were publicized after being liberated. By 1946, probably the entire world knew precisely what happened at Auschwitz II. So what was the big secret about all these other camps? Was it a logistics issue, a feasibility issue, a manpower issue, that prevented the other forty-three thousand-plus camps from being told of?
Caroline Colls may have opened up a bag of worms in giving us the answer. You may recall back in 2010, Colls, a British archaeologist, was the first person to successfully secure permission from Polish authorities and Jewish religious leaders to excavate Treblinka. She and her team discovered floor tiles that confirmed the location of the camp’s gas chambers. Up until then, excavators were denied any digging “out of respect for the dead,” so stated the official reason. Now, hold on to that excuse for a moment, because it leads to a new kind of revelation, ironically, as Cole may have discovered too.
First, let’s set the stage with Colls’ most recent quest. Alderney Island, dubbed by the Nazi codename “Adolf Island,” is a 3-miles long and 1.5-miles wide island sitting ten miles off the coast of Lower Normandy, France. Colls, in an SUV along with her group armed with shovels, ground-penetrating radar, and a map took a car-boat over. By the way, if anybody can figure out how England got to own this island, let me know! Interestingly though, the permission to dig on the island that she received a few days earlier from the Alderney government was suddenly revoked while on the boat ride over. Huh?
Before we investigate that mystery, a closer look at Alderney reveals that Hitler specifically took an interest in the island, viewing it as a fortress that could be used to own a piece of England and also part of his plan to invade mainland Britain. BBC news had already reported that Alderney was once home to several labor camps, as well as a concentration and death camp called Lager Sylt, which housed thousands of slave laborers between 1940 to 1945, including Poles. In fact, prisoners brought here came from 27 countries.
Colls, in light of this new no-dig government ultimatum, certainly came equipped though. She used aerial drones to fly over the probable site of Lager Sylt as well as LIDAR, a laser-pulse technique to create the base level of a topographic map. What she found was quite troubling. A big pit, in the same style as in Auschwitz II, indicative of a mass grave site. And almost as a suspicion of cover-up, the Nazi’s had created a nice, neat cemetery for about 100 Russian prisoners, complete with crosses. As if to hide the other deaths?
How many Poles are buried on Alderney Island? If they brought Russians there, they surely brought Poles there. Is anyone else but this daring archaeologist interested in finally recognizing these prisoners thrown into a pit who are now nothing but a mixed pile of bones? Where is humanity’s moral and ethical fiber?
Returning to our earlier mystery, isn’t it a bit curious that the overwhelming majority of Nazi camps have gone out of sight, out of mind? Or, might another kind of crime have been committed, on top of the obvious? Unless the Nazi’s set flame to the entirety of their records, clearly in the immediate aftermath of World War II, the German government knew exactly where these camps were located. And what of the foreign governments on whose soil these camps existed? Surely they knew, and continue to know, what unfolded on their own turf. And the excuse to withhold such potentially tragic revelation, “out of respect for the dead?”
First question: are nations like England, whose soil the Nazi death camp known as Lager Sylt sits in, intentionally denying a camp’s exposure because they don’t want the bad publicity? Second question: did these countries strike a deal with post-war Germany to keep these camps “hush-hush” so as not to tarnish a newly ruled German government anxious to rejoin the normalcy of nations now that the tyrant Hitler was gone?
Speculation of course, but I’m thinking of the millions of captive men, women, and children from many of these forty-four thousand camps whose bones have been forgotten about. Nobody ever remembered, nobody knows where, and nobody cares, possibly due to some degree of political bureaucracy. God almighty, is this the best we can do?
Bleeding Hearts of St. Valentine
Valentine’s Day. February 14th, our annual feast of hearts will once again be celebrated in the rightful spirit that it should be, recalling the 3rd century Roman Saint whose name it is attributed to and the promotion of courtly love. But not all was noble and chivalrous on this particular day back in 1929. You guessed it.
Who among us has not heard of the infamous St. Valentine’s Day massacre? The bloody event is almost as synonymous as the red heart-shaped boxes of chocolate we are all familiar with. Might this massacre though, with all its doom and gloom, have taken place amidst Chicago’s incredibly populous Polish community, perhaps right in its own neighborhood?
The question intrigued me. For openers though, of course we’ve probably all seen a few of the films and documentaries about the event, such as the 1967 film starring Jack Nicholson. My favorite, oddly enough a comedy, was the 1959 hit Some Like It Hot starring Tony Curtis, Jack Lemon, and of course Marilyn Monroe. Did a pair of bumbling musicians, played by Curtis and Lemon, really witness the slaying?
But, enough of Hollywood. As much a fan of the silver screen as I am, this time I wanted fact over fiction. To set the stage, according to witnesses at about 10:30 in the morning, a Cadillac sedan pulled up in front of an open garage at 2122 North Clark St. in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago’s North Side. Hold on to that fact for a moment. Four men, allegedly hired by kingpin mobster Al Capone, then emerged and walked inside, two of them wearing overcoats and fedoras entered the front, while the other two dressed as policemen entered the rear. The men confronted seven members of rival mobster Bugs Moran's gang and ordered them to line up against a brick wall. By the way, you’ve probably figured out that this was just another example of organized crime lords competing to gain control of a city, this time during Prohibition.
Together with the other dapper-dons, the fake cops opened fire with loud Thompson sub-machine guns. They were thorough, spraying their victims left and right, even continuing to fire after all seven had hit the floor. Adding icing on the bloody cake, to give the appearance that everything was under control, the men in street clothes came out with their hands up, prodded by the two uniformed fake policemen.
After digesting all of these cold, hard facts, I got back to my original supposition that perhaps, just perhaps, this whole thing could have unfolded right before the eyes of Polish residents. After all, the fact that Capone’s men were dressed as cops would indicate that people were on the streets, and witnesses were questioned. Could it be?
An historical study of the Polish migration into Chicago goes back to 1837 and has had a steady rise ever since. In fact today, together with German-Americans and Irish-Americans, Polish-Americans make up the final third of this trio of European roots. But they beat their counterparts in languages spoken, as Polish is the third most widely spoken language in Chicago behind English and Spanish.
And of course, everybody knows Chicago was and still is a huge Polish-American stronghold. So with the help of a street map and no fewer than sixteen sources on the internet, including the Chicago County Clerk’s online records, I began my analysis and initially discovered that nearly all of the first immigrant Poles settled in five distinct sections of the city, known as “patches.” Unfortunately though I hit a dead end, as none of these patches were in the area of the massacre, which was in the Lincoln Park section of Chicago, way up along the northeast side. However, were it not a for a scant piece of information from an obscure source, my inquiry may have been over.
Enter the Kashubians. This distinctive ethnic group hailing from north-central Poland, as you may know, settled in Lincoln Park and along North Clark St. Interestingly, although not quite Poles, their presence apparently attracted new Polish immigrants as evidenced in the establishment of St. Josaphat's Roman Catholic parish. Although originally meant for the Kashubian community, the resulting nicknames of "Jozafatowo" (Josaphat's Town) as well as "Kaszubowo" (Cassubian Town) evolved the neighborhood into one of Chicago's Polish Patches.
Finally, boosting my question as to whether Poles might have been plentiful among the witnesses to this ghastly crime, I found a quoted reference from a Chicago walking tour organization mentioning Biggy’s Polish Market Deli, a central hub for the whole area during the 1920’s, on what is now Sedgwick St. That’s just down the block from the massacre site.
The verdict was in. Surely Poles must have been among the lost witnesses to this infamous event; they must have at least heard the shots from those Tommy guns. As for the real police, recall that corruption was a big thing in the roaring twenties, perhaps preventing any of these Polish witnesses from testifying.
Although the St. Valentine's Day Massacre is widely recognized in Chicago infamy, ironically nothing remains...no garage, no brick wall, no memorial, of that terrible day. Instead, a tranquil lawn under a shady tree next to a nursing home marks the site. The actual brick wall was purchased by a Canadian collector for a couple thousand dollars. And what became of Biggy's Polish deli? A Google aerial map now shows a row of townhouses occupying the probable spot. And the rest, well, is either Hollywood or history…
Cyclical or Linear?
Q: Another new year. I'm wondering if we learned anything from the past year? It seems every year it's the same turn of the calendar. I'm beginning to see your point about the Christmas tree humdrum as you called it. I guess it's back to the same rigamarole. - Stephen, New York
A: I can tell you Stephen that my Christmas certainly was fulfilling having such a unique Christmas tree with real candles lit on it. Sitting in my IKEA-bought Polish-made armchair at 2 a.m. with the lights out, candles lit, and a collection of 16th century soprano-led lute songs playing on CD took my mind far away into a forgotten era. It was an absolutely beautiful experience. Yours can be the same!
However you are correct. Learning, growth, evolution? I think not. The question to be asking may be, has human life become so aligned to a cyclical calendar? Indeed human life, as well as all life, is not cyclical, it is linear. Yet we live by a 365-day cyclical calendar, going through the same robotic routines year after year after year. On the spiritual front for example, Christmas comes, then Easter, then Christmas, then Easter; it's like a broken record I'm sorry to say. Where's the growth? Nobody wants to try what John Paul II did, which was to bring together different religions with the goal of universal mutual growth. Yet we continue to stagnate in a cyclical-dominated existence. Imagine if we all took a 5 minute break if only to realize the bubbles we live in? I agree with you, we should strive to live a progressively linear existence rather than a stagnated cyclical one.
Forty-four thousand. Like me, at first you may not believe in your wildest imagination that this could have been the actual number of Nazi camps existing during World War II. However, incredibly, historians have now concluded…that was the case. These camps, designated as concentration, death, forced-labor, POW, and others dotted the entirety of Europe. Of course, we all knew of the dozen or so infamous ones like Dachau, Treblinka, Buchenwald, and Auschwitz-Birkenau, but as we’ll see from one example, certainly the perils of this reality were far, far more than what was known, or perhaps, what was made public.
Upon first learning of this gargantuan number, I immediately concluded that forensic archaeologists, excavators, and the like are making fantastic new discoveries in the course of their normal pursuits. Finally, the world can know the truth of what lies beneath the ground in certain places, the number of Jews, Poles, and other “socially deviant and inferior” people as they were called that are still buried there, and what really happened at these camps.
Yet, scratching my head…wait a minute, I thought. That’s all very interesting, but these things occurred eighty years ago. You mean, it took that long for revelations of gruesome discoveries to come full circle? As mentioned above, there were a handful of camps that immediately were publicized after being liberated. By 1946, probably the entire world knew precisely what happened at Auschwitz II. So what was the big secret about all these other camps? Was it a logistics issue, a feasibility issue, a manpower issue, that prevented the other forty-three thousand-plus camps from being told of?
Caroline Colls may have opened up a bag of worms in giving us the answer. You may recall back in 2010, Colls, a British archaeologist, was the first person to successfully secure permission from Polish authorities and Jewish religious leaders to excavate Treblinka. She and her team discovered floor tiles that confirmed the location of the camp’s gas chambers. Up until then, excavators were denied any digging “out of respect for the dead,” so stated the official reason. Now, hold on to that excuse for a moment, because it leads to a new kind of revelation, ironically, as Cole may have discovered too.
First, let’s set the stage with Colls’ most recent quest. Alderney Island, dubbed by the Nazi codename “Adolf Island,” is a 3-miles long and 1.5-miles wide island sitting ten miles off the coast of Lower Normandy, France. Colls, in an SUV along with her group armed with shovels, ground-penetrating radar, and a map took a car-boat over. By the way, if anybody can figure out how England got to own this island, let me know! Interestingly though, the permission to dig on the island that she received a few days earlier from the Alderney government was suddenly revoked while on the boat ride over. Huh?
Before we investigate that mystery, a closer look at Alderney reveals that Hitler specifically took an interest in the island, viewing it as a fortress that could be used to own a piece of England and also part of his plan to invade mainland Britain. BBC news had already reported that Alderney was once home to several labor camps, as well as a concentration and death camp called Lager Sylt, which housed thousands of slave laborers between 1940 to 1945, including Poles. In fact, prisoners brought here came from 27 countries.
Colls, in light of this new no-dig government ultimatum, certainly came equipped though. She used aerial drones to fly over the probable site of Lager Sylt as well as LIDAR, a laser-pulse technique to create the base level of a topographic map. What she found was quite troubling. A big pit, in the same style as in Auschwitz II, indicative of a mass grave site. And almost as a suspicion of cover-up, the Nazi’s had created a nice, neat cemetery for about 100 Russian prisoners, complete with crosses. As if to hide the other deaths?
How many Poles are buried on Alderney Island? If they brought Russians there, they surely brought Poles there. Is anyone else but this daring archaeologist interested in finally recognizing these prisoners thrown into a pit who are now nothing but a mixed pile of bones? Where is humanity’s moral and ethical fiber?
Returning to our earlier mystery, isn’t it a bit curious that the overwhelming majority of Nazi camps have gone out of sight, out of mind? Or, might another kind of crime have been committed, on top of the obvious? Unless the Nazi’s set flame to the entirety of their records, clearly in the immediate aftermath of World War II, the German government knew exactly where these camps were located. And what of the foreign governments on whose soil these camps existed? Surely they knew, and continue to know, what unfolded on their own turf. And the excuse to withhold such potentially tragic revelation, “out of respect for the dead?”
First question: are nations like England, whose soil the Nazi death camp known as Lager Sylt sits in, intentionally denying a camp’s exposure because they don’t want the bad publicity? Second question: did these countries strike a deal with post-war Germany to keep these camps “hush-hush” so as not to tarnish a newly ruled German government anxious to rejoin the normalcy of nations now that the tyrant Hitler was gone?
Speculation of course, but I’m thinking of the millions of captive men, women, and children from many of these forty-four thousand camps whose bones have been forgotten about. Nobody ever remembered, nobody knows where, and nobody cares, possibly due to some degree of political bureaucracy. God almighty, is this the best we can do?
Bleeding Hearts of St. Valentine
Valentine’s Day. February 14th, our annual feast of hearts will once again be celebrated in the rightful spirit that it should be, recalling the 3rd century Roman Saint whose name it is attributed to and the promotion of courtly love. But not all was noble and chivalrous on this particular day back in 1929. You guessed it.
Who among us has not heard of the infamous St. Valentine’s Day massacre? The bloody event is almost as synonymous as the red heart-shaped boxes of chocolate we are all familiar with. Might this massacre though, with all its doom and gloom, have taken place amidst Chicago’s incredibly populous Polish community, perhaps right in its own neighborhood?
The question intrigued me. For openers though, of course we’ve probably all seen a few of the films and documentaries about the event, such as the 1967 film starring Jack Nicholson. My favorite, oddly enough a comedy, was the 1959 hit Some Like It Hot starring Tony Curtis, Jack Lemon, and of course Marilyn Monroe. Did a pair of bumbling musicians, played by Curtis and Lemon, really witness the slaying?
But, enough of Hollywood. As much a fan of the silver screen as I am, this time I wanted fact over fiction. To set the stage, according to witnesses at about 10:30 in the morning, a Cadillac sedan pulled up in front of an open garage at 2122 North Clark St. in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago’s North Side. Hold on to that fact for a moment. Four men, allegedly hired by kingpin mobster Al Capone, then emerged and walked inside, two of them wearing overcoats and fedoras entered the front, while the other two dressed as policemen entered the rear. The men confronted seven members of rival mobster Bugs Moran's gang and ordered them to line up against a brick wall. By the way, you’ve probably figured out that this was just another example of organized crime lords competing to gain control of a city, this time during Prohibition.
Together with the other dapper-dons, the fake cops opened fire with loud Thompson sub-machine guns. They were thorough, spraying their victims left and right, even continuing to fire after all seven had hit the floor. Adding icing on the bloody cake, to give the appearance that everything was under control, the men in street clothes came out with their hands up, prodded by the two uniformed fake policemen.
After digesting all of these cold, hard facts, I got back to my original supposition that perhaps, just perhaps, this whole thing could have unfolded right before the eyes of Polish residents. After all, the fact that Capone’s men were dressed as cops would indicate that people were on the streets, and witnesses were questioned. Could it be?
An historical study of the Polish migration into Chicago goes back to 1837 and has had a steady rise ever since. In fact today, together with German-Americans and Irish-Americans, Polish-Americans make up the final third of this trio of European roots. But they beat their counterparts in languages spoken, as Polish is the third most widely spoken language in Chicago behind English and Spanish.
And of course, everybody knows Chicago was and still is a huge Polish-American stronghold. So with the help of a street map and no fewer than sixteen sources on the internet, including the Chicago County Clerk’s online records, I began my analysis and initially discovered that nearly all of the first immigrant Poles settled in five distinct sections of the city, known as “patches.” Unfortunately though I hit a dead end, as none of these patches were in the area of the massacre, which was in the Lincoln Park section of Chicago, way up along the northeast side. However, were it not a for a scant piece of information from an obscure source, my inquiry may have been over.
Enter the Kashubians. This distinctive ethnic group hailing from north-central Poland, as you may know, settled in Lincoln Park and along North Clark St. Interestingly, although not quite Poles, their presence apparently attracted new Polish immigrants as evidenced in the establishment of St. Josaphat's Roman Catholic parish. Although originally meant for the Kashubian community, the resulting nicknames of "Jozafatowo" (Josaphat's Town) as well as "Kaszubowo" (Cassubian Town) evolved the neighborhood into one of Chicago's Polish Patches.
Finally, boosting my question as to whether Poles might have been plentiful among the witnesses to this ghastly crime, I found a quoted reference from a Chicago walking tour organization mentioning Biggy’s Polish Market Deli, a central hub for the whole area during the 1920’s, on what is now Sedgwick St. That’s just down the block from the massacre site.
The verdict was in. Surely Poles must have been among the lost witnesses to this infamous event; they must have at least heard the shots from those Tommy guns. As for the real police, recall that corruption was a big thing in the roaring twenties, perhaps preventing any of these Polish witnesses from testifying.
Although the St. Valentine's Day Massacre is widely recognized in Chicago infamy, ironically nothing remains...no garage, no brick wall, no memorial, of that terrible day. Instead, a tranquil lawn under a shady tree next to a nursing home marks the site. The actual brick wall was purchased by a Canadian collector for a couple thousand dollars. And what became of Biggy's Polish deli? A Google aerial map now shows a row of townhouses occupying the probable spot. And the rest, well, is either Hollywood or history…
Cyclical or Linear?
Q: Another new year. I'm wondering if we learned anything from the past year? It seems every year it's the same turn of the calendar. I'm beginning to see your point about the Christmas tree humdrum as you called it. I guess it's back to the same rigamarole. - Stephen, New York
A: I can tell you Stephen that my Christmas certainly was fulfilling having such a unique Christmas tree with real candles lit on it. Sitting in my IKEA-bought Polish-made armchair at 2 a.m. with the lights out, candles lit, and a collection of 16th century soprano-led lute songs playing on CD took my mind far away into a forgotten era. It was an absolutely beautiful experience. Yours can be the same!
However you are correct. Learning, growth, evolution? I think not. The question to be asking may be, has human life become so aligned to a cyclical calendar? Indeed human life, as well as all life, is not cyclical, it is linear. Yet we live by a 365-day cyclical calendar, going through the same robotic routines year after year after year. On the spiritual front for example, Christmas comes, then Easter, then Christmas, then Easter; it's like a broken record I'm sorry to say. Where's the growth? Nobody wants to try what John Paul II did, which was to bring together different religions with the goal of universal mutual growth. Yet we continue to stagnate in a cyclical-dominated existence. Imagine if we all took a 5 minute break if only to realize the bubbles we live in? I agree with you, we should strive to live a progressively linear existence rather than a stagnated cyclical one.
Bethlehem or Bust
Twenty three years ago, I set out across the arid Judean desert with nothing but a pack on my back, a bible in my hand, and a dream. It was my first trip to the Holy Land, and having the fearless zeal known only to a 30-something year old then, it would later become a trip that I would never attempt again. Risk and reward, that’s what it was all about.
After a moderately easy start from the waters of the Sea of Galilee in the north, I made my way to another body of water, the lowest point on the face of the Earth, the Dead Sea. But on the way, not realizing until later, I narrowly avoided crossing into Israeli Army restricted space. Trespassing into this area would have meant instant demise, and I would have found myself jailed, in court, paying a fine, and sitting on a return flight home. But what would a fair-haired boy wearing a red and white Keffiyeh, or head scarf, in the fashion of Lawrence of Arabia know? After all, caravans of Bedouin tribes roamed the desert freely, so the jury is still out on whether I would have been singled-out by the authorities.
As brave as I may have been by day, once nightfall came it was a different story. If I slept for fifteen minutes that night in the middle of nowhere, it was a lot. Losing count of the number of stars overhead, all I could hear was windswept sand. Sunrise came early, and I eventually reached the massive mountains flanking the west coast of the sea where I saw the remains of the ancient Qumran community, famously known for the Dead Sea scrolls.
I always wondered what it must have been like for the shepherd-kid who discovered the scrolls, having thrown a rock into the right cave to find a sheep gone astray. Should I climb the vertical mountain cliff to venture into one of the numerous other caves visible, I asked? Realizing the risk, I instead soldiered on to arrive at the shore of the Dead Sea.
With nobody in sight, “the hell with it” said an exhausted me and stripped to my underwear, closed my eyes and jumped in. The salt content, eight times that of the saltiest ocean, was so great that I floated on the water. Here, there is ten percent more oxygen in the air too, a nice natural recovery plus.
After drying off, I hiked further southward and experienced a certain metanoia, or change of heart. The typical visitor becomes entranced by physically being at the lowest spot on the planet, yet the sheer magnitude of the extremely dry and rugged mountains just a stone’s throw away contradict this. Then, one sees Masada, the great cliff-top ancient settlement where Jewish zealots battled the Roman army, ending in all 960 Jewish inhabitants deciding to die before the Romans could reach them.
After experiencing the awe of this historic site, I decided to take a bus back north and hopped off near the tiny town of Bethany. Unfortunately not too many tourists visit the town which is off the beaten track, but I did, and nearly never made it out.
The Tomb of Lazarus was my only goal to experience there. The tomb’s custodian runs a merchant shop directly across the street, and once the entrance fee is paid, he unlocks the tomb’s door, turns the lights on, and the visitor is allowed to descend a steep set of steps down into the actual tomb itself.
And there I was, inside the actual tomb of Lazarus. I opened my Bible and silently read the famous passage about Jesus commanding the dead man to “Come Forth!” After about twenty minutes of pondering in the dead silence of it all…the lights went off, and BOOM!, the door at the top of the steps was shut. Curses muffled, I half-panicked and began to feel my way around the rock tomb completely in the dark, located the steps and began yelling at the top of my lungs that I was still down there. Fortunately the guy heard me.
Tightening my boots for the final trek, or “pilgrim’s walk” to Bethlehem, which was a dirt trail used by thousands of Christians over the centuries, it was Bethlehem or bust. The walk was enduring, going up hills and through sheep meadows. At its conclusion, I arrived at the Church of the Nativity. In this predominantly Palestinian village, the high bells of this church stand clear for all to see. Here, in the grotto, Jesus was born. Interestingly enough, the site is actually a cave. And a very sacred one indeed. The exact spot of Jesus’ birth is marked with a fourteen point star (photo). One seems to abandon all personal concerns and worries here.
Departing, I was reminded of the region’s modern-day dilemma, as just over my shoulder I heard a skirmish between kids throwing rocks and soldiers firing rubber bullets. But after what I had just experienced on this trip, to me that scuffle was only, as Ralph Kramden would say, “a mere bag of shells.”
After taxiing half way to the airport, I set out on foot again and arrived for my flight back. My trek was complete, though my pants were torn and my boots were worn. I was completely exhausted, but I was still smiling.
Got Candle and Care?
Q: In a few of the old-time movies you wrote about, the Christmas trees have real candles on them. What a shame that such a spectacle is lost. Our friends in Holland always have real candles on their tree but it’s unheard of in the U.S. Is this a result of insurance company policy? – Stephen, NY
A: As a woodsman that you are, I feel your grief my friend! That’s a great question. Understandably the risk of fire from real candles on Christmas trees is high, so I wouldn’t doubt that U.S. insurance companies have fine print about that in their policies. However, all hope of this lost tradition is not gone, and let me say that I will help to preserve it! You guessed it, I bought real candles with clips for my Christmas tree this year. I got them on Ebay from a seller in Poland, where the tradition of having real candles on trees is alive and thriving. One key note to add is that the tree must not be the typical “American” style thick fir with tightly packed branches. Rather, only the Nordmann Fir is suitable for real candles. This tree is a popular species grown in Poland and elsewhere across Europe and some parts of the U.S. I ordered one from a nursery for a fair price. It has attractive sparse foliage, with long needles that are not sharp and do not drop easily when the tree dries out after cutting. Caution: never leave burning Christmas tree candles unattended.
It's All About Election Fraud
Absolutely unbelievable. I feel like it was a waste of time filling out a vote ballot or going to a voting facility. 150,000 absentee ballots coming in at three in the morning, not 80%, not 90%, but 100% in favor of one candidate? Party observers being kept out of counting rooms not being able to verify signatures? Cardboard being put up on windows so nobody can see what's happening? Voting rules in Philly being changed mid-way during the process? Dead people's names on the ballots?
And the latest shenanigan being investigated by the FBI, an algorithm inserted into the electronic voting tally machines in select areas of the country, dubbed a “glitch,” which exponentially increased the Democratic runner’s total votes, thought not to be detected under the cover of large urban area Democratic voting. My fellow Americans, are these not the dictionary definitions of: Fraud? I for one may never vote again if this is not righted; why waste my time? How do you feel?
Considering all of these irregularities, hmm, how about scrapping the vote and redoing the whole election one day or conveniently over a series of days strictly the regular way where you physically have to go to a voting station, get checked in and verified, and pull a lever or push a button? Is it really a big deal simply to wear a mask in line like we do at the supermarket?
Because, the most important point to be argued, which the President had made months ago in anticipation, is that as soon as a vote leaves a voter’s hands, there should be nothing subjective in the way of it being recorded. How can you possibly have Philadelphia or any other urban city ballot counters, decisively Democratic as we know, hold up a Republican ballot and objectively judge whether the ballot’s signature matches and is therefore valid? That is the precise reason why we traditionally have machines to capture a vote, because machines are neither Republican nor Democrat. Why nobody else thought about this other than the President is beyond comprehension as it is an absolute clear no-brainer.
Or, perhaps they did think about it. Is it kind of odd that in all of the seven battleground states where all of this drama has played out, Republicans control the state legislature? Wouldn’t they have argued this point, or…or, was this possibly a coup in the making? Did the Republican party intentionally bypass these potential red flag irregularities because they want the President out?
Perhaps like you, I find myself recollecting stories about the JFK assassination and how government officials were involved at odds over the Cuba crisis, or how a political party’s convention headquarters at the Watergate hotel was bugged by a rival political party, as if these age-old tales of unbelievable fraud were mere stories of yesteryear that, oh my, could never ever happen today because we have now matured with a fully righteous and ethical fiber about us. “You’re kidding,” so would say the average Joe on today’s street corner, “these things don’t happen anymore.”
Yet, there may be a silver lining to all of what has unraveled over the past week. Thank God there are still people around who fight for integrity, truth, and justice. Imagine if nobody took a care, and merely accepted political outcomes with assumption of proper protocol like they did with the Kennedy “automatic-Oswald verdict” and the Nixon election, only to be discovered eons later that we were at the time all helpless victims of fraud.
Hopefully the Supreme Court will intercede. I believe a monumental decision is in the making which will be announced by the high court, and some people are not going to like it. What an absolute disaster.
What we witnessed in my opinion was an attempt at a coup d’état by both Democrats and Republicans who want to return to the “politically correct swamp” of politics because Trump’s tell-it-like-it-is approach has revealed truths that past administrations knew about but could never reveal because doing so would stir up the American apple cart, be it financial, racial, marital, immigration, or crime. And that’s what Trump did didn't he, he stirred up the apple cart.
Now we see the price paid for promoting decades of falsity coming out of past president’s mouths such as providing food stamps to lower income people as if that’s the solution to win their vote, or officially recording high “catch” numbers of illegal border crossings, but immediately “releasing” them and keeping that part off the record. They may think such politically correct tactics were nice, but in the end if you don’t tell the truth no matter how much it hurts people, it comes back to haunt. The same thing happened with the Church’s abuse crisis. So in a nutshell, this election was all about precisely that, as Shakespeare might have put it, to tell or not to tell, the truth. That is the question.
Hey if political operatives can manipulate a U.S. election like they did in Iraq when a certain intelligence agency intentionally skewed the people’s vote, not to mention the same electronic “glitch” in the Brazilian elections that we had which mysteriously catapulted one candidate over the other (bet you didn’t know that did you), why be surprised anymore?
Destination Boys Town
The mystery has been solved. Following-up to a recent inquiry about Boys Town and the Polish roots to the country road it sits on comes a response from Mr. Tom Lynch, Director of Community programs at Boys Town. So, who and what were the origins behind Gutowski Road?
Says Mr. Lynch: “The roads in our village are partly named for the boys who lived here over the years. Gutowski Road is named for alumnus John Gutowski who lived here in the 1940’s. The Boys Town committee who named the roads in the 1970’s felt John exemplified the many former boys who went on to become a success in life. As was the case then as now, John walked into our village one day in 1940, and asked our founder Servant of God Edward Flanagan if he could live here and finish his education. John passed away very young at age 50. One of his sons is a priest in the Omaha Archdiocese.”
Mr. Lynch also sent me John’s obituary, and it is no less of a wonderment. Gutowski’s parents both died when John was a child, eventually leading to the desperate orphan deciding to take a shot at Boys Town. Two years later upon his graduation, John was recommended by Fr. Flanagan for a clerical job with none other than the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
After a short stint with the feds, John served his country by joining the Army Air Corp for the duration of WWII. And afterwards, rejoined the clerical staff of the FBI while taking night classes in pursuit of a law degree which he later earned from the Detroit College of Law.
All of his years with the FBI certainly helped, as in 1956 he was promoted to Special Agent, a G-man as the term was known. After a few years he and his wife Christine moved their family, yep, back to the close proximity of Boys Town in Nebraska. Talk about coming full-circle.
The pinnacle of his career then came as his legal and law enforcement background landed him a job as Omaha’s Chief Traffic Prosecutor.
In 1973, John Gutowski passed away, leaving behind his wife, three sons, and two daughters. Still seeing traffic of course is 13940 Gutowski Road, the home of Boys Town, USA.
The Man Who Would Be Pope
It’s just past Halloween, but the 42nd anniversary of Karol Wojtyla’s selection as the 264th Pope recalls a good degree of spooky events leading up to that day. Of course, everybody may remember how it all ended, but let’s take a closer look at how it all happened.
You may immediately recall a scene from The Godfather Part III when the newly elected Pope is found dead in his bed, and may also have just recently learned of a shady financial situation of a top-tiered Cardinal making headline news. Well, combining Hollywood portrayals with actual events may occasionally paint an authentic picture. Such was the case back in 1978.
Setting the scene, we first have to back-track just a bit in recalling that Cardinal Albino Luciani, who was Pope John Paul I, was elected only 51 days earlier. With an official papacy reign of a mere 33 days, little has been published about exactly what happened during that eighteen day period between his death on September 28 and Wojtyla’s election on October 16.
The papal conclave, which is a private assembly of Cardinals, first convened on October 14, hastily just ten days after John Paul I’s funeral. Expecting that Luciani would have reigned for at least a decade, it was no wonder then why tensions were high, so much so that arguably a mild degree of in-fighting was had between Cardinals banding together as “teams” even before the conclave convened and then again during the actual voting process.
There were a couple of contenders up for the spot of Pope. One was Cardinal Giuseppe Siri of Genoa, but there was a potential problem.
During the 1958 papal conclave of which Siri took part, some say that per the official ballot count, indeed this man was actually chosen to be Pope, but incredibly had to yield to Cardinal Angelo Roncalli who would go on to become Pope John XXIII. How could this ever happen? Ah, have you ever heard of Freemasonry, that band of brotherhood penetrating all walks of life from Presidents like George Washington to…a Pope?
The kept-quiet theory goes that Roncalli was himself a Freemason, whose members were known to exert influence over pretty much everything, thereby assuring him of the papacy. Getting back to Siri, choosing him may have surfaced those skeletons from the closet which would not have been pleasant, especially given the media attention of this historic event.
The second contender was Cardinal Giovanni Benelli of Florence, who actually came within a few ballots of securing the papacy during the initial voting. Benelli was the most likely successor being closely aligned to Luciani, however he did not receive the necessary two-thirds-plus-one percentage of votes cast by the other Cardinals, and due to increased transparency about the process we could forget about the wheeling and dealing of outside influences as was done twenty years earlier.
Indeed the 1978 conclave found itself in a pickle. The only other close contender, in keeping with traditional Italian successors, was dark-horse candidate Cardinal Giovanni Colombo of Milan. But as destiny would have it, Colombo announced that, if chosen, he would flat-out decline the position of Pope. And as you can probably imagine, by now rivalries were raging and spirits were shrinking.
“Excuse me,” echoed a humble Viennese voice, as out of the midst came a 73-year old Cardinal by the name of Franz König. And contrary to the advertised “fake” news feed stating that the majority of Cardinals had earmarked Wojtyla, it was this man alone, perhaps divinely inspired, who solely suggested that Cardinal Karol Wojtyla be chosen as Pope. The elder König had always held high regard for Wojtyla and followed the intellectual development of the now 58-year old Polish Cardinal. Only after this solo suggestion was made did agreement come from the rest, a very important point to make. And finally came the white smoke from the Sistine Chapel.
“Anuntio vobis gaudium magnum: HABEMUS PAPAM!” or, “I announce to you a great joy: We have a Pope!” so declared senior Cardinal Deacon Pericle Felici on the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica on that October evening around 7:15pm some 42 years ago.
When Felici announced who had been chosen, many in the crowd interpreted Wojtyla’s name, or how it was pronounced, as being Italian, African, and even Japanese. It was not until Wojtyla himself cleared up the confusion by appearing before them and delivering a somewhat lengthy opener. Despite being told to cut the speech short for fear of losing the crowd, Wojtyla defied the Curia and continued to speak at length, actually winning over the people’s favor by purposely mispronouncing a word in Italian, from which the crowd caught his funny drift!
And the rest, as you know, is history…
The Founding Fathers of Chivalry
Great article recently from my colleague Barbara Strzepka about the Battle of Grunwald. October had been officially recognized as arms and armor month throughout the world, so let’s add a supplemental follow-up honed in on some of the fighting weapons used.
My nephew used to think the Lord of the Rings film trilogy contained mostly make-believe scenarios of battles in some fashion of fairy tale, however as an avid fan of this romantic and fierce age in our history, I was quick to correct his thinking to the tune that this was no fairy tale!
Indeed most people don’t realize that a lot of quaint, picture-postcard countryside meadows in Poland once hosted some of the bloodiest battles in history. God knows how many axes, daggers, and bits of plate armor are buried beneath the flowering white and red poppies dotting the countryside, not to mention the gallons of dried blood residue.
The basic weapons of the typical early fifteenth century Polish knight such as those used in the Battle of Grunwald were the sword and the spear, a heavy thrusting weapon. Besides these, a typical arsenal included a number of small armaments from daggers to battle axes, maces, horseman’s picks, and many others. The Polish sword was straight, with a long blade having an almond-shaped pommel and a bar cross guard. The spear, in Poland referred to as a “wood,” was lightweight and had a head of leaf-like shape, but there were also heavier, armor-piercing spearheads.
Defensive armament, on the other hand, first included the gambeson, which was a padded jacket, then developed into the brigandine, which was part steel, followed by the hauberk, which was that familiar-looking shirt made out of chain mail. Breastplates came next, and finally the full-figured panoply, which was an entire suit of armor.
By the end of the 16th century, a Polish knight gained his perfect form, protecting the whole of his body, and sometimes his horse. There were some differences between the rich knights of Małopolska, Wielkopolska, Śląsk and those of Mazowsze, who, because they faced enemies from the East like Old Prussians, Lithuanians, and Tatars, partially adopted their enemies’ fighting techniques and lighter armament as well. Even their horses were smaller and lighter.
There were many different types of throwing weapons too. The sling went out of use when the crossbow reached Poland relatively early in the 12th century. Javelins and throwing axes were also in use. During sieges, both defenders and attackers commonly used a variety of heavy hurling machines like catapults and trebuchets, and finally cannons due to the invention of gun powder.
With increasing tension and fighting along the eastern border, Poles adopted many eastern-style war customs and weapons. This is why the sword was so easily and commonly replaced in the 16th century with the szabla, which is a backsword with a curved blade.
But perhaps the most visible armor transformation in Polish Medieval times was that of the helmet, which changed from a conical shape into a great helm around the 12th century and later into the bascinet which had a pointed top and mouth piece to deflect blows.
Which brings us to the men who wielded and wore these things. Novelties in design became almost an art form and were accepted quickly. At tournaments in the west, the Polish knight Zawisza Czarny z Garbowa, or “Zawisza the Black” gained instant recognition by wearing black armor. His big claim to fame came from winning numerous tournaments after which he gallantly promoted the virtues of loyalty, reliability, and chivalry. So much so that even today, the Polish Boy Scout oath reads: “…polegać na nim jak na Zawiszy” or “you can rely on a boy scout as on Zawisza”!
However, until the battle of Grunwald in 1410, most Polish knights were less armored than their competitors, due to the fact that many of them were relatively poor. In the 15th century however, Polish knights became much wealthier as exports of grains and forest goods grew rapidly during this period which became a source of wealth.
I had a chance to dust off some of my small collection while discovering that the controversial 14th century Polish knight, Stibor of Stiboricz, once owned Dracula’s castle. With Halloween just around the corner, this gallant gentleman in the service of Hungary actually owned thirty-one castles in the region. Because of his strategic allegiances for and against Poland at various times of his career, some love the guy, some hate him. Oh well.
Perhaps there is a silver lining to such a volatile period in Poland’s history. The next time someone holds open a door for you or offers you an umbrella, you may owe a word of thanks to those men on that battle field. Chivalry, you see, evolved from these warriors donned in plate armor and defending all that they held to be sacred and dear, doing so with sharp carbon-steel weaponry.
Today, unfortunately all that remains of this grand and glorious age of Polish arms and armor are a few museum collections, some text books on the topic, and several quaint, picture-postcard countryside meadows.
InJustices of the Supreme Court
Fortunately the next Supreme Court Justice, if confirmed soon, will be in sync with the words that appear on the back of the one dollar bill in your wallet, In God We Trust. Perhaps as you have discovered also, I too find it disturbing how Supreme Court Justices can calculate their optional retirement based on who they think the sitting president will be, who would then nominate a new Justice. Of course, by doing so, justices are politically influencing the judicial system. Eh, I always thought judges and justices were supposed to be impartial. Getting back to God, isn’t it ironic how some of our laws established by our Supreme Court support, in fact, quite the opposite of what we claim when declaring that we trust in God?
Dignity v. Reality
Undoubtedly you probably watched the first Presidential debate, or was it a prize fight? And undoubtedly you have probably heard and read follow-up reactionary opinions from a host of news people, all playing the same broken record along the lines of it being “uncivilized and unruly.”
These same news people will criticize the talking-over interruptions that both men made by giving some bureaucratic reason that the country “needs to hear professional responses to what matters.” Oh my, dare we sway from our structured lifestyle of nice, neat, and organized protocol to favor something authentic, real, and straight from the gut like we witnessed in the debate.
Get lost, is my response to such newsmaker opinion. Perhaps like you, I was incredibly pleased to see the no-holds-barred performance of both Trump and Biden. We don’t need less of that, we need more of it. As my father used to say about pro sports competition, “It’s easy playing for somebody else’s money, but if you want to see real action, let them play for their own stakes.”
Likewise, let the candidates rip. It’s the only way you will see and hear authentic, real-time, unrehearsed responses. I’m also in favor of the moderator calling out and ridiculing any candidate who fails to answer a specific question, but instead offers some feel-good circumventing response. To those newsmakers who prefer the “dignity” of a Presidential debate, get real, isn’t reality what people deserve?
The Last Man Killed on 9/11
Tomorrow will mark the nineteenth anniversary of the horrific 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center. With almost three thousand people being killed on the morning of that day, one Polish man’s own death later that evening some five miles away never received the attention it deserved, and still remains a mystery.
Henryk Siwiak has been described as “the last person killed in New York on 9/11,” although his death was apparently unrelated to the terror attacks earlier in the day, or was it?
At the time, the 46-year old husband and father of two from Kraków had recently come to the U.S. after being laid off from his job as an inspector with the Polish State Railways. He had a sister, Lucyna, living in Far Rockaway, Queens and despite the lack of a work permit, decided to stay and do whatever work he could, sending money back to his wife Ewa in Poland every few months to supplement her earnings as a high school biology teacher. Siwiak hoped that eventually he could return to Poland and build a new house for his family.
Said Lucyna, “We told him New York City was a dangerous place but he didn’t believe it, perhaps because he liked living here so much.”
For most of 2001, Siwiak had been working at a construction site in Manhattan. On the morning of September 11, following the attacks, the job site closed down and was evacuated. Siwiak could not afford to wait until work resumed, so found another job in the classified ads of the Polish newspaper Nowy Dziennik which was in circulation in his sister’s local community. The job was blue collar, menial, and far below the former inspector’s skillset, being with a cleaning service at a supermarket in Brooklyn. But what strikes a cord here is this man’s work ethic in thinking not of his own self-worth, but rather of his family back in Poland.
Siwiak learned he could start late that night, so immediately called his wife to tell her the good news. But as misfortune would have it, his eagerness and motivation were perhaps quashed by evil and hysteria.
At about 11p.m. that evening, Siwiak, using vague directions given to him by his sister’s neighbor, exited a subway station on Albany Avenue which was the street that the supermarket was located on. However, little did the Pole realize, the supermarket was actually three miles further south on that same street. Siwiak was now standing in the middle of New York City’s deadliest neighborhood, Bedford-Stuyvesant, renowned for drug dealing, assaults, and robberies. In fact, a longtime resident of the neighborhood told radio station WNYC that the area is only safe in the mornings, and “after that, you’re on your own.”
Forty minutes after walking along that avenue came an argument and gun shots. Siwiak was shot once in the lung and left a trail of blood from the north end of Albany Ave. to the stoop of a residence nearby, where he rang the doorbell in search of help. A resident of that building told police that she heard the bell, but like her neighbors, was too fearful to look out the window or answer the door in the wake of the gunfire. Siwiak collapsed facedown into the street. At 11:42 p.m., a call was made to 911. Henryk Siwiak was pronounced dead at the scene.
Was it a fatal mugging, so common in the area? Tough to say, as Siwiak still had $75 in his wallet. Lucyna Siwiak believes the killer, or killers, may have thought her brother was a terrorist responsible for the day’s earlier catastrophe. Tough to say as well, as the Pole had been wearing a camouflage outfit with black boots that might have made him appear to be militaristic. That coupled with his dark hair and imperfect, heavily accented English tongue may have led a hysterical killer or gang to believe he was a middle-eastern terrorist. Even the first police officers to respond to the scene thought he might have been one of the many National Guardsmen deployed to the city in the wake of the attacks.
Because of the 9/11 attacks, nearly all of the NYPD investigative resources had been directed to the tragedy. The Siwiak case went by the wayside, receiving little attention in the months and years that followed.
Who killed Henryk Siwiak, and why?
New York Times journalist Michael Wilson perhaps offered the best takeaway in writing: “To be the last man killed on Sept. 11 is to be hopelessly anonymous, quietly mourned by a few while, year after year, the rest of the city looks toward Lower Manhattan. No one reads his name into a microphone at a ceremony. No memorial marks the sidewalk where he fell with a bullet in his lung.”
Statues and Stones
Q: The appalling scenes of statues being torn down is all over the news, but no one is commenting about its effect on our kids. Do we really want children seeing this? Kind of the thing the Khmer Rouge did, didn’t they, indoctrinating their kids with radical visions of how Cambodia was to be? I see an Abe Lincoln statue was even torn down, which means these radicals don’t even know history. – Tom, New York
A: Yes, a terrible tragedy Tom. I’m not sure what is worse; passing out condoms in a sex-ed classroom, parental permissiveness for kids to be partying on the beach during Spring break amid Covid-19, or what you mentioned. This is the price we pay for living in a liberal, free society. On Lincoln though, we never really learned the entirety of historical facts in school. In truth, Lincoln wanted to end slavery yes, but not necessarily have freed slaves assimilate into society. That is the blemish on the Lincoln record, few people know. If we want to honor someone, it should be the abolitionist John Brown, who saw the moral right to end slavery and have all peoples unite together as one in society.
Let’s travel back a few more years, shall we? Suckers will undoubtedly succumb to the latest “theory” proposed by ancient alien aficionados. That being an explanation as to why thousands-of-year-old stone temples in South America were cut so precisely sharp that nothing other than a laser could have done it. Yet another example of using today’s mindset to explain yesteryear’s actions. Big mistake.
If these quack theorists had any historical perspective, they would know that ancient peoples’ sole purpose in life was to please their gods. A ten-year old kid would work his entire life at cutting and sharpening a temple’s building blocks so they’d fit together perfectly. This custom went on for generations, which was as long as it took for these colossal structures to be built. It then becomes a no-brainer to realize that 300 years of sharpening a stone will yield an edge sharper than any of today’s laser cuts. So much for ancient aliens.
Q: The appalling scenes of statues being torn down is all over the news, but no one is commenting about its effect on our kids. Do we really want children seeing this? Kind of the thing the Khmer Rouge did, didn’t they, indoctrinating their kids with radical visions of how Cambodia was to be? I see an Abe Lincoln statue was even torn down, which means these radicals don’t even know history. – Tom, New York
A: Yes, a terrible tragedy Tom. I’m not sure what is worse; passing out condoms in a sex-ed classroom, parental permissiveness for kids to be partying on the beach during Spring break amid Covid-19, or what you mentioned. This is the price we pay for living in a liberal, free society. On Lincoln though, we never really learned the entirety of historical facts in school. In truth, Lincoln wanted to end slavery yes, but not necessarily have freed slaves assimilate into society. That is the blemish on the Lincoln record, few people know. If we want to honor someone, it should be the abolitionist John Brown, who saw the moral right to end slavery and have all peoples unite together as one in society.
Let’s travel back a few more years, shall we? Suckers will undoubtedly succumb to the latest “theory” proposed by ancient alien aficionados. That being an explanation as to why thousands-of-year-old stone temples in South America were cut so precisely sharp that nothing other than a laser could have done it. Yet another example of using today’s mindset to explain yesteryear’s actions. Big mistake.
If these quack theorists had any historical perspective, they would know that ancient peoples’ sole purpose in life was to please their gods. A ten-year old kid would work his entire life at cutting and sharpening a temple’s building blocks so they’d fit together perfectly. This custom went on for generations, which was as long as it took for these colossal structures to be built. It then becomes a no-brainer to realize that 300 years of sharpening a stone will yield an edge sharper than any of today’s laser cuts. So much for ancient aliens.
The Crime on Top of the Crime
Here we go again. Perhaps like many of you, the social upheaval smokers of late are nothing new. Didn’t we see the exact same scenario play out on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri back in 2014? Or was it in my hometown of Staten Island, New York that very same year when a chokehold was used to detain someone? Gee, these news videos couldn’t have been re-runs of L.A. back in 1991 when multiple batons were used on a man?
Unfortunately incidents such as these pop up, and as opposed to Al Sharpton telling us they are happening on a daily basis, perhaps the more objective word to use as far as frequency goes would be, occasionally. But no, mainstream liberal media may instead be using the incident to fuel their own subjective agenda. Is there a crime continually being committed on top of the crime already committed?
I’ve watched the Minneapolis video about a hundred times, like you have. My conclusion, based on objectivity, is that excessive use of force had been used to detain Mr. Floyd. Kneeling on someone’s neck is entirely wrong as it clearly interferes with life-giving air to breath. This technique should be outlawed globally. Why it was allowed to be used is beyond comprehension in a civilized world.
But then again, perhaps we are not so civilized. In the same vein, unless I missed something, how is the Minneapolis incident a form of racism? Racism means that an action was taken on a person or group, disproportional to everyone else, based on skin color or race. Did the officer utter any words or thoughts that he targeted Floyd based on his race? Perhaps, but objectively speaking, I find no evidence of that. Yet, everybody is convinced that he did, finding him guilty of being a racist. That’s…guilty until proven innocent. Huh?
An added statistic that nobody wants to talk about is the arrest rate and population. If, out of a proportional array of different ethnicities who are being arrested, the police target one ethnicity, that is racism. Why then is the media hesitant about posting the statistics on the ethnic spectrum of all who are being arrested? The problem then becomes clear, this is not a racial problem, it is a socio-economic one.
What happens to a society when it allows subjectivity into objective thinking? As pointed out above, this is the crime on top of the obvious crime. In this case, you saw it for yourselves; looting, fire bombing, murder, etc. Interestingly, a white 75-year old senior citizen was pushed to the ground by Buffalo police, who then walked past him as blood was pouring from his head, apparently leaving the care to medics just behind. Why was this incident played down by the liberal media? Was it because it didn’t fit the mold of their polarized racism agenda? Repeat, this is the crime on top of the crime, when a society replaces objective truth with subjectivity in order to fuel an inner agenda.
And let’s be fair, this happens all over. Whether its Christian leaders claiming that, through their faith alone, people have the only way to get to heaven, or environmental activists stating that global warming, which occurs sporadically on other lifeless planets, is definitely caused by our carbon emissions so we’d better close up the coal mines, or even those authors who made a dime on books by accusing JFK of numerous infidelities, simply because he was a good looking guy.
So the next time you read a clip on “racism,” having the word being stolen and misused, you might want to report to the authorities that a 211 is in progress, that stands for a robbery.
Subjectivity, now along with pandemic facial masks, it seems is the new “norm.”
All Talk, No Action
Exactly five years ago, do you remember hearing that abhorrent news about how ISIS had destroyed all of the statues and monuments in the ancient city of Palmyra? Remember? They knocked down the standing remains of gods and goddesses, cut their heads off, and defaced various stone friezes on ancient structures and anything else in the city that had been preserved as a historical study of that once-heralded age. It was all over the news; even the liberal media condemned it. Heck, does something sound scarily familiar here?
And here we go again. Why are statue after statue in this great land following a similar pattern of fate? Are these modern-day activists acting just as ISIS did, wishing to banish memories of historical ideologies sharply different than their own in an effort to promote a closed-minded, polarized, one-track vision of the future? It’s interesting isn’t it, how our statue-slayers, supported by the same liberal media described above, who wish for equal opportunity, fair play, and solidarity, simultaneously now seek to topple anyone else’s interest in being reminded of a bygone era in the form of a Confederate General perched atop his horse in a quite park somewhere.
What an ironic disaster. I’m thinking too of a Union General, that of the Tadeusz Kościuszko statue in Washington’s Lafayette Square. I must have walked past that statue a hundred times, situated at the corner of the square where numerous passers-by can see. Now, who wants to see it, covered in protesting graffiti obviously inflicted by the same misdirected, ignorant individuals who know nothing of Kościuszko and his desire to buy the freedom of black slaves and to educate them for independent life and work.
Black lives matter. White lives matter. Latino lives matter. All lives matter. Racism in this country unfortunately still exists and probably always will. However, oddly enough the protesters appear to be aiming all of their acoustics to an external blame, the police. Does anyone care to fix the problem at its root?
How about assigning social workers to monitor the upbringing of inner-city youth, many of whom are raised in single-family households, drop out of school, join gangs, commit crime, get arrested, and then comprise a disproportional ethnicity arrest population, thereby influencing the statistics for excessive use of force.
Six years ago in Ferguson, Missouri a task force was supposed to be set up to do just that. It was all talk and no action…
Evasion of an Ethical Evolution
Indeed with age brings wisdom, so perhaps we can apply it to today’s ongoing debate surrounding statues, flags, racism, and the like. Perhaps, in our immediate judgment of things, we need to consider another forgotten factor. That being time.
Someone once asked me a question about what happens to all the people who cheered on the killing of Christians in the Roman Coliseum, where did their souls go because of their unethical and immoral behavior? Most people today would say, straight to hell.
As another example, the Aztecs were notorious for offering human sacrifices to their gods. What happened to their souls, did they automatically go to hell because they need to be punished for their unethical and immoral acts? Again, most people today would say yes.
Now, we might understand how a few evil, rogue individuals can commit terrible acts such as murder, torture for gaming purposes, and enslavement, but in reality history tells us such heinous acts were not committed merely by a handful of people, but by large societies. Unfortunately it was their custom. Again, by today’s ethical and moral standards, these acts were clearly wrong.
Perhaps this is the heart of the issue in judgment we are seeing too regarding our current affairs. The question to contemplate is: Is it correct to judge societies and cultures of long past by applying today’s ethical and moral standards to their actions? Even Natural Law, once thought to be the basis for human moral and ethical conduct universally and unchanging, has evolved.
Make no mistake, clearly we know today that certain behaviors of long past were entirely wrong. But as pointed out in past columns, it may be argued that the only reason you and I consider something to be right or wrong today is because a great length of time has passed during which our culture’s moral and ethical values have evolved through thinking about the issue and realizing it to a higher, more mature extent.
Sadly, what we may now be witnessing is a retro-labeling of yesteryear’s unevolved morality onto today’s mindset, as if people were the same back then as they are now. Clearly this is not the case. Because of time, ethics and morals have developed to greater conclusions. Therefore, we need to be cautious when passing judgment on actions of old, and realize that because of time, we feel as we currently do.
And, as a more important takeaway, let’s ask our current culture what we may be doing as standard operating procedure in 2020, that 100 years from now critics may be saying was unethical and immoral? Scary stuff!
Purr-fect Companions
Stay-at-Home! Undoubtedly the most popular expression over the past few months, wouldn’t you say? The following is a little piece I crafted for the ASPCA organization which publishes a member’s magazine. What better treat to give to a mom for this past Mother’s Day than a self-portrait of a kind, especially when there are two cats involved.
♥ 93-year-old Josephine Ostrowski of Staten Island, NY, an active outdoor senior, joins our community of seniors in continuing to abide by stay-at-home status amidst the Covid-19 pandemic. Although her love of squirrel watching, feeding her backyard birds, and driving one mile every day to her son John’s house to walk his dog has been temporarily put on hold, the self-admitted animal champion has instead been on the receiving end of love, this time from her own pet pair of cats.
“I’ve been cooped-up in my house for months now, but if it weren’t for Itti and Pitti, I think I would have given up all hope of life as I knew it. They have been a blessing in disguise.”
10-year-olds Itti and Pitti, domestic short haired felines, were found born on her back porch back in May of 2010. The duo were brought in and nursed by Josephine’s son Andrew, another animal lover. “My son absolutely adores cats, and although at first I angrily ordered him not to bring stray kittens into my household, I’m glad I had an ‘epiphany’ of sorts in relenting,” she adds.
Every night after dinner, Josephine sits in her armchair and watches her favorite television shows. Within minutes, along comes either of her beloved Itti or Pitti, up into her lap, to cuddle and perhaps to watch too? But it’s a first-come, first-serve protocol, as Josephine points out. “Whoever gets there first stakes claim to my lap, and the other gal is simply out of luck. But they play fair in alternating claims, as the next night finds the other gal in ‘laptop position.’ But I’m amazed at the level of intellect of my little friends, who seem to show interest when I channel-surf. They know which shows they like!” exclaims the senior citizen.
Josephine and her sister Catherine are the only remaining survivors from a family of 13 children, with two of her siblings recently passing away, one due to Covid-19. Grasping their loss has been challenging, made even more difficult in being confined indoors. Reflecting on her youth, Josephine points out the realities of growing up in a poor, blue-collar, hard working suburban New York City Polish family when animals were involved.
“I remember that my father used to ‘shoo’ them away anytime a stray dog or cat came by looking for food. I later realized that he wasn’t doing this just because we were poor, but because he didn’t want us to get attached and ultimately let down from our inability to adopt. Although we had plenty of chickens in the backyard, they were cheap to feed and gave us plenty of nourishment in their eggs. But a pet cat? Forget it, that was only a dream.”
However, since the sorrows of her youth, Josephine and her late husband Daniel have warmly welcomed many furry friends into their family of six children, including dogs, cats, a couple of birds, friendly rodents and even a few reptiles, among them two baby alligators, ouch!, that her son John ultimately donated to the Staten Island Zoo. According to Josephine, “The gators got too big for the four glass walls they were living in; their bodies wrapped around so much so that the tips of their tails were touching the tips of their noses.”
Ah, intolerance for others, but for Josephine, the hallmark of a true animal champion. The super-senior sums it all up, “For us seniors in particular, this pandemic has been a terribly tragic experience. Our own family and friends have died, and we are left contemplating it all in quiet solitude. I am so grateful for the cherished memories and love from all our lovable little ones and to my present pair of feline friends for lifting my spirits in keeping hope alive. Excuse me for a minute, I have to feed the outdoor stray cat that comes to my front door…”
The Joy of Painting
“We don’t make mistakes, we make happy accidents.” Fans of the paint brush and palette will instantly recognize that delightful little phrase spoken on half-hour television segments still airing from the 1980’s. Every Saturday night around midnight you will find me, and perhaps many of you, tuning in to the immortal legend of Bob Ross and his Joy of Painting series. What an absolute delight to watch. Ross’ wet-on-wet technique, in which he composes a captivating outdoorsy scene in 30 minutes, became a popular pastime for millions of viewers across the country who have learned and continue to do so from his calm, relaxed instruction.
But what most folks may not know are the pair of Polish-Americans who are responsible for all of Ross’ success. To begin with, Ross, a U.S. Air Force master sergeant stationed in Alaska, was moonlighting as a part-time bartender when he discovered a television show called The Magic of Oil Painting, hosted by German painter Bill Alexander, who painted in the 16th century style called “alla prima,” better known as “wet-on-wet.” Ross studied and became quite good at it, and began selling Alaskan landscapes painted on the inside of novelty gold-mining pans.
After retiring from the Air Force, Ross was so influenced by the German painter that he went to Florida and became a traveling salesman and tutor for Alexander’s Magic Art Supplies Company. A gal named Annette Kowalski of Washington, DC, who was a regular viewer of Alexander’s program, lost her son in a traffic accident and was so depressed that painting was the only thing that lifted her spirits. Her husband Walt called the company and asked if she could attend a class of Alexander’s in Florida, but was told that a new “rookie” painter named Ross was substituting. The Kowalskis, desperate for hope following the death of their son, then drove to Florida.
“I could not believe what I saw,” said Annette. “People were mesmerized by Bob. I was so enthralled with him that I wasn’t even doing my own painting.” The Kowalskis, fortunately well-off, were so thankful and impressed with Ross that they persuaded him to succeed on his own and invested their entire life savings in him. The business struggled at first; but because of Ross’ carefree brush strokes, soothing voice, and trademark permed hairstyle, the combination sparked interest worldwide eventually blossoming into a $15 million business.
Sadly, the Kowalskis lost their painting champion on July 4th, 1995 to lymphoma. Bob Ross was 52 years old. Of the approximately 30,000 paintings that Ross created in his lifetime, Annette summed up the sentiment pretty simply. “Most people don’t paint, they just watch. They like to hear his voice, they just like Bob.”
Sentimental Centerpiece
Saturday marks the 76th anniversary of D-Day, the sixth of June, 1944. For many of our senior-most readers, they may recall where they were when the historic invasion got underway. Still others may recall war-torn memories, acts of heroism, and sentimental pieces from other periods during the war.
One such memory comes in the form of a letter that my uncle Stanley wrote to his parents on V.E. Day, May 8th, 1945…
Dear Folks, I’m writing this on “V.E. Day” and boy what a day to celebrate and be thankful for. The long hard struggle is over and the blood, sweat, and tears have not been shed in vain. The people of Europe have been freed and we know their joy, for we dropped food to the Dutch the morning they were liberated and they had flags all over the streets and waved like mad. I hope and pray that Ed and Ben are ok wherever they may be now. I wish there were someway of getting in touch with them now. We completed thirty missions and it should count as our full share over here although a tour consisted of thirty five missions. Our crew sure has a lot to be thankful for. We had some narrow escapes – we weren’t the only ones. Sometimes it seemed like someone was protecting us up there when it got pretty rough. That flak was wicked at times. I guess the average mission lasted about seven hours – some were longer and some shorter. How was everything in good old N.Y. on V.E. Day? Boy what Kelly and I would give to be back there now. I heard the paper and confetti is knee-deep. I’ll write a long letter later folks. All my love, Stan
My uncle, along with his bombardment group, was perhaps heralded more so due to German Field Marshall Gerd von Rundstedt, in a post-war interview, stating that the group’s air assaults “did more to stop my counteroffensive into Belgium than any other factor.” That’s Stan on the guns in the photo from 1944.
Perhaps as many of our uncles have, my uncle kept a diary of his bombardier days. Here is a clip from a local newspaper about a little notebook and the incredible life it uncovered…
It was Christmas Eve, December 24th, 1944. Staff Sergeant Stanley Francis Ostrowski, a 23-year old New Brighton resident pens his first entry into a 3” x 5” notebook reflecting his service as a B-17 Flying Fortress ball turret gunner during World War II. “Biggest mission in history” he writes, “started off with a pretty rough one, a little too close for comfort.”
Stanley was a 1939 graduate of Curtis High School, and afterwards took a job as a carpenter in the McWilliams Shipyard in West Brighton. One of nine children born to Polish immigrants, like his other brothers, Benjamin, Edward, John, and Daniel, he aided the war effort as a proud first-generation son. Arriving at Fort Jay Induction Station on Governor’s Island in August of 1942, the young draftee was then sent to Upton NY, Miami Beach, Wisconsin, Arkansas, Mississippi, Texas, and finally Arizona where he was fully trained as a gunner.
Stan then left for England to be assigned to the famous 8th Army Air Force, and the renowned 390th Bombardment Group. This group had been cited by President Roosevelt for skill and daring in battle, and holds the war record for destruction of enemy aircraft by a lone group in a single engagement, having shot down 63 German fighters.
In a Staten Island Advance article published in 1944, Stan told Islanders about his daylight bombing mission over Berlin, “It was 4 o’clock in the morning when the C.Q. (Charge of Quarters) stomped in, switched on the lights, and politely said, “Welton’s crew, you boys are flying this morning.”
Stan’s position in the ball turret, which is a clear, round capsule on the plane’s underbelly, saw him lying flat on his back with legs up and finger clutched to the weighty .50 caliber gun trigger as he rotated. Once over enemy ground, Stan remarks about heavy barrages of gunfire from the Luftwaffe fighters and witnessing a fellow B-17 perish, “It was spinning down out of control with a wing fire.”
Unlike countless others, Stanley Ostrowski survived the war. He returned to his family in New Brighton, taking a job as a NYC civil servant. His passions included 8mm filming, cats, and gardening. He died in 1992.
Arctic Fury
A man dressed like a government official is sitting at a desk in the opening scene. He informs the viewing audience that the film which follows tells an incredible-but-true story.
A doctor who served as a U.S. Navy medical officer during World War II, settles down in Alaska with his wife and daughter to open a private practice. But, the population still being sparse, even in 1949, he occasionally bush pilots his open-cockpit monoplane to out-of-the-way places in the wilderness to render medical aid. When he hears of an Inuit tribe afflicted with a contagious disease, unknown to them, he makes an extended flight to examine them. But, his plane develops engine trouble and he crash-lands in the Colville River region of northern Alaska, where he just barely swims to shore ahead of a hungry polar bear and an avalanche of falling glacial ice.
Having memorized a map to the Inuit village, shown him by Mack, a Sourdough fur trapper, he begins traipsing overland. Along the way, he briefly takes shelter in a cave already inhabited by a mother black bear with two cubs. In chasing her off, however, he finds that her cubs are still in the cave. So, when he resumes his journey, he takes them with him. Eventually noting, in his pilot's log, that he has named them Tom and Jerry!
Wreckage from the doctor's plane is eventually found, renewing hope of the doctor's survival within both his wife and Mack. Guessing that the doctor is headed on foot towards the Inuit village, the trapper heads there in his boat. Arriving there just in time to rescue both the doctor and the bear cubs from feral sled dogs gone half-mad with hunger (their Inuit owners having died from the aforementioned illness).
The doctor eventually replaces his previous aircraft with a new one of the same type. And the narrator concludes the story by claiming how the doctor's tale of survival has been handed down among the Inuit as a campfire story worthy of retelling. With various members of other tribes looking up at his supposedly passing-by plane with grateful awe and respect.
Pair of Sporting Stockings
Had it not been for a fat fourth round at the 1937 Masters tournament in Augusta, Georgia, Yonkers, NY-born Polish-American professional golfer Albert Andrew Watrous could have been wearing the coveted green jacket of winner.
As snows of winter lay on the ground nourishing the green grass beneath, let’s take a retro-look at two of the sport’s notable names of Polish descent as a jump-start to spring. First, let’s get back to 1937.
Watrous, then 38 years old, carded a 74-72-71 in his first three rounds at the fabled course, but struggled on Sunday’s final round to fall off the leader board, and ended up ten shots back of eventual winner Byron Nelson. Incidentally, it was during this tournament that the famous Nelson Bridge, which players have walked over since 1958, got its name due to the winner’s birdie-eagle combination at holes 12 and 13. Nelson earned $1,500 for his win, and Watrous…a mere $250.
But maybe it was Watrous’ upbringing in Michigan that did the trick, moving there at an early age and eventually becoming a club pro. The northern climate must have favored him, as the husband and father of five kids won the Michigan PGA Championship a total of nine times and the Michigan Open a total of six times. Whew, move over Tiger Woods.
Let’s back up a bit beforehand to 1926. Although Watrous never won a major championship, he came extremely close at that year’s British Open, so famous an event that it is now referred to around the world simply as The Open. Tied with Bobby Jones, yes the one and only knicker-wearing shirt and tie Bobby Jones, in the final round and paired with him, Watrous hit the green in two shots on the difficult par-4 17th hole, with Jones in trouble after his tee shot finished in tall grass far left of the fairway.
However, Jones hit one of the greatest recovery shots in golf history from 175 yards, as his ball finished on the green nearer than Watrous’, who three-putted and finished second.
On June 14, 1979, Watrous was inducted into the National Polish-American Sports Hall of Fame and Museum. Albert Watrous died on Dec. 3, 1983.
► “My parents grew up in the Depression. My father worked from the age of 8 on. He was born in Canada, but his family moved to the U.S. when he was 5. My grandparents were Polish immigrants. I believe my grandfather was a tailor. My grandmother was a teacher, and my mother’s father was a baker.” A recent excerpt from an interview of Polish-American professional golfer Betsy King.
King, now 64 years old, was arguably the best female golfer from the late 1980s through the early 1990s, winning a total of 39 times in her career including six major titles. Anybody debating that news byte should take a glance at the leader board from the 1992 LPGA Championship. Repeat, ehh, move over Tiger Woods.
The tournament was played at Bethesda Country Club on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. And anyone knowing anything about golf courses would instantly realize what the folks mean in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn when they say, “Fahgettaboudit.” One would expect a very close battle between the players, given the difficulty of this course. King, however, proved otherwise.
King simply came out roaring, posting a 68-66-67-66 on the par 71, 6,272 yard monster course, eleven strokes ahead of runners-up Americans JoAnne Carner and Karen Noble, and Sweden’s Liselotte Neumann. King’s victory margin was the largest to date, and was the first to card all four rounds in the sixties in an LPGA major.
Now retired and off the course, King spends most of her time with Golf Fore Africa, a non-profit organization she founded in 2007, to bring clean water to children and their families living in extreme poverty in Africa. Said King in the same interview, “We go into villages where people have next to nothing. They welcome complete strangers like us. They come and hug us and dance with us. Every time I go, I’m inspired to do more to make a difference. One statistic that just floors me is that, in her lifetime, the average African woman will walk a distance from here to the moon walking for water.”
Asked what she would like to be remembered for, King said, “Well, hopefully for more than just golf and winning the LPGA championship by 11 shots. It was the best I played. But as one that persevered and worked hard, I suppose I would like to be remembered for the giving back to causes that outlive us. If we put a well in a community that will bring clean water to someone for the rest of their life, that supply of water will last way past my time here.”
A man dressed like a government official is sitting at a desk in the opening scene. He informs the viewing audience that the film which follows tells an incredible-but-true story.
A doctor who served as a U.S. Navy medical officer during World War II, settles down in Alaska with his wife and daughter to open a private practice. But, the population still being sparse, even in 1949, he occasionally bush pilots his open-cockpit monoplane to out-of-the-way places in the wilderness to render medical aid. When he hears of an Inuit tribe afflicted with a contagious disease, unknown to them, he makes an extended flight to examine them. But, his plane develops engine trouble and he crash-lands in the Colville River region of northern Alaska, where he just barely swims to shore ahead of a hungry polar bear and an avalanche of falling glacial ice.
Having memorized a map to the Inuit village, shown him by Mack, a Sourdough fur trapper, he begins traipsing overland. Along the way, he briefly takes shelter in a cave already inhabited by a mother black bear with two cubs. In chasing her off, however, he finds that her cubs are still in the cave. So, when he resumes his journey, he takes them with him. Eventually noting, in his pilot's log, that he has named them Tom and Jerry!
Wreckage from the doctor's plane is eventually found, renewing hope of the doctor's survival within both his wife and Mack. Guessing that the doctor is headed on foot towards the Inuit village, the trapper heads there in his boat. Arriving there just in time to rescue both the doctor and the bear cubs from feral sled dogs gone half-mad with hunger (their Inuit owners having died from the aforementioned illness).
The doctor eventually replaces his previous aircraft with a new one of the same type. And the narrator concludes the story by claiming how the doctor's tale of survival has been handed down among the Inuit as a campfire story worthy of retelling. With various members of other tribes looking up at his supposedly passing-by plane with grateful awe and respect.
Pair of Sporting Stockings
Had it not been for a fat fourth round at the 1937 Masters tournament in Augusta, Georgia, Yonkers, NY-born Polish-American professional golfer Albert Andrew Watrous could have been wearing the coveted green jacket of winner.
As snows of winter lay on the ground nourishing the green grass beneath, let’s take a retro-look at two of the sport’s notable names of Polish descent as a jump-start to spring. First, let’s get back to 1937.
Watrous, then 38 years old, carded a 74-72-71 in his first three rounds at the fabled course, but struggled on Sunday’s final round to fall off the leader board, and ended up ten shots back of eventual winner Byron Nelson. Incidentally, it was during this tournament that the famous Nelson Bridge, which players have walked over since 1958, got its name due to the winner’s birdie-eagle combination at holes 12 and 13. Nelson earned $1,500 for his win, and Watrous…a mere $250.
But maybe it was Watrous’ upbringing in Michigan that did the trick, moving there at an early age and eventually becoming a club pro. The northern climate must have favored him, as the husband and father of five kids won the Michigan PGA Championship a total of nine times and the Michigan Open a total of six times. Whew, move over Tiger Woods.
Let’s back up a bit beforehand to 1926. Although Watrous never won a major championship, he came extremely close at that year’s British Open, so famous an event that it is now referred to around the world simply as The Open. Tied with Bobby Jones, yes the one and only knicker-wearing shirt and tie Bobby Jones, in the final round and paired with him, Watrous hit the green in two shots on the difficult par-4 17th hole, with Jones in trouble after his tee shot finished in tall grass far left of the fairway.
However, Jones hit one of the greatest recovery shots in golf history from 175 yards, as his ball finished on the green nearer than Watrous’, who three-putted and finished second.
On June 14, 1979, Watrous was inducted into the National Polish-American Sports Hall of Fame and Museum. Albert Watrous died on Dec. 3, 1983.
► “My parents grew up in the Depression. My father worked from the age of 8 on. He was born in Canada, but his family moved to the U.S. when he was 5. My grandparents were Polish immigrants. I believe my grandfather was a tailor. My grandmother was a teacher, and my mother’s father was a baker.” A recent excerpt from an interview of Polish-American professional golfer Betsy King.
King, now 64 years old, was arguably the best female golfer from the late 1980s through the early 1990s, winning a total of 39 times in her career including six major titles. Anybody debating that news byte should take a glance at the leader board from the 1992 LPGA Championship. Repeat, ehh, move over Tiger Woods.
The tournament was played at Bethesda Country Club on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. And anyone knowing anything about golf courses would instantly realize what the folks mean in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn when they say, “Fahgettaboudit.” One would expect a very close battle between the players, given the difficulty of this course. King, however, proved otherwise.
King simply came out roaring, posting a 68-66-67-66 on the par 71, 6,272 yard monster course, eleven strokes ahead of runners-up Americans JoAnne Carner and Karen Noble, and Sweden’s Liselotte Neumann. King’s victory margin was the largest to date, and was the first to card all four rounds in the sixties in an LPGA major.
Now retired and off the course, King spends most of her time with Golf Fore Africa, a non-profit organization she founded in 2007, to bring clean water to children and their families living in extreme poverty in Africa. Said King in the same interview, “We go into villages where people have next to nothing. They welcome complete strangers like us. They come and hug us and dance with us. Every time I go, I’m inspired to do more to make a difference. One statistic that just floors me is that, in her lifetime, the average African woman will walk a distance from here to the moon walking for water.”
Asked what she would like to be remembered for, King said, “Well, hopefully for more than just golf and winning the LPGA championship by 11 shots. It was the best I played. But as one that persevered and worked hard, I suppose I would like to be remembered for the giving back to causes that outlive us. If we put a well in a community that will bring clean water to someone for the rest of their life, that supply of water will last way past my time here.”
A Mere Bag of Shells
Twenty two years ago, I set out across the arid Judean desert with nothing but a pack on my back, a bible in my hand, and a dream. It was my first trip to the Holy Land, and having the fearless zeal known only to a 30-something year old then, it would later become a trip that I would never attempt again. Risk and reward, that’s what it was all about.
After a moderately easy start from the waters of the Sea of Galilee in the north, I made my way to another body of water, the lowest point on the face of the Earth, the Dead Sea. But on the way, not realizing until later, I narrowly avoided crossing into Israeli Army restricted space. Trespassing into this area would have meant instant demise, and I would have found myself jailed, in court, paying a fine, and sitting on a return flight home. But what would a fair-haired boy wearing a red and white Keffiyeh, or head scarf, in the fashion of Lawrence of Arabia know? After all, caravans of Bedouin tribes roamed the desert freely, so the jury is still out on whether I would have been singled-out by the authorities.
As brave as I may have been by day, once nightfall came it was a different story. If I slept for 15 minutes that night in the middle of nowhere, it was a lot. Losing count of the number of stars overhead, all I could hear was windswept sand. Sunrise came early, and I eventually reached the massive mountains flanking the west coast of the sea where I saw the remains of the ancient Qumran community, famously known for the Dead Sea scrolls.
I always wondered what it must have been like for the shepherd-kid who discovered the scrolls, having thrown a rock into the right cave to find a sheep gone astray. Should I climb the vertical mountain cliff to venture into one of the numerous other caves visible, I asked? Realizing the risk, I instead soldiered on to arrive at the shore of the Dead Sea.
With nobody in sight, “the hell with it” said an exhausted me and stripped to my underwear, closed my eyes and jumped in. The salt content, eight times that of the saltiest ocean, was so great that I floated on the water. Here, there is ten percent more oxygen in the air too, a nice natural recovery plus.
After drying off, I hiked further southward and experienced a certain metanoia, or change of heart. The typical visitor becomes entranced by physically being at the lowest spot on the planet, yet the sheer magnitude of the extremely dry and rugged mountains just a stone’s throw away contradict this. Then, one sees Masada, the great cliff-top ancient settlement where Jewish zealots battled the Roman army, ending in all 960 Jewish inhabitants deciding to die before the Romans could reach them.
After experiencing the awe of this historic site, I decided to take a bus back north and hopped off near the tiny town of Bethany. Unfortunately not too many tourists visit the town which is off the beaten track, but I did, and nearly never made it out.
The Tomb of Lazarus was my only goal to experience there. The tomb’s custodian runs a merchant shop directly across the street, and once the entrance fee is paid, he unlocks the tomb’s door, turns the lights on, and the visitor is allowed to descend a steep set of steps down into the actual tomb itself.
And there I was, inside the actual tomb of Lazarus. I opened my Bible and silently read the famous passage about Jesus commanding the dead man to “Come Forth!” After about twenty minutes of pondering in the dead silence of it all…the lights went off, and BOOM!, the door at the top of the steps was shut. Curses muffled, I half-panicked and began to feel my way around the rock tomb completely in the dark, located the steps and began yelling at the top of my lungs that I was still down there. Fortunately the guy heard me.
Tightening my boots for the final trek, or “pilgrim’s walk” to Bethlehem, which was a dirt trail used by thousands of Christians over the centuries, it was Bethlehem or bust. The walk was enduring, going up hills and through sheep meadows. At its conclusion, I arrived at the Church of the Nativity. In this predominantly Palestinian village, the high bells of this church stand clear for all to see. Here, in the grotto, Jesus was born. Interestingly enough, the site is actually a cave. And a very sacred one indeed. The exact spot of Jesus’ birth is marked with a fourteen point star. One seems to abandon all personal concerns and worries here.
Departing, I was reminded of the region’s modern-day dilemma, as just over my shoulder I heard a skirmish between kids throwing rocks and soldiers firing rubber bullets. But after what I had just experienced on this trip, to me that scuffle was only, as Ralph Kramden would say, “a mere bag of shells.”
After taxiing half way to the airport, I set out on foot again and arrived for my flight back. My trek was complete, though my pants were torn and my boots were worn. I was completely exhausted, but I was still smiling.
The Swap
Reflecting on Buffalo’s 1962 Pulaski Day Parade certainly had its highlights having President John F. Kennedy present, but one stands out among many as the definitive moment of Polish-U.S. relations, in a manner of speaking. That being the presentation of a Polish doll to the president by a humble 6-year-old Buffalo girl named Noelle Krolewicz.
“Since my mom, Eugenia Krolewicz, has passed away, some of the details of this story are lost. However, I know that the sisters at St. Stanislaus School asked my mom if she would be able to commit to the project of me being the person to give President Kennedy a doll for his daughter, Caroline,” recounts Ms. Krolewicz.
And what a commitment! It seems this entailed the sisters getting a proper Polish-type dress for the young six year old, a doll to present to the president, and transporting her to and from City Hall and the press events on the day before the parade.
According to Noelle’s memory, finding the doll was the most difficult part of the project. “Back then, dolls were sold mostly at Christmas time, and finding a doll with braids such as a Polish girl would wear was challenging. My parents finally came up with a blonde doll with braids. My dad’s aunt Agnes was a seamstress, and she and some co-workers took delight in designing the dress and hair garland” she points out, but regretfully adds “I don’t think my parents would have even thought to have me play with a doll of this nature, risking it getting dirty or damaged, so I did not name it or have any attachment to it.”
You’ve heard of The Sting starring Redford and Newman, but how about The Swap starring Krolewicz and a guy named Osinski? Something that suddenly came up literally minutes before the presidential presentation, however, was an idea to replace Noelle’s original doll, after all of the design work put into it, with another doll which had been made by visually-impaired children in Poland. Of course, a noble gesture, but perhaps bad timing.
“I believe that Henry Osinski located the replacement doll, or perhaps had it at his home. So, the doll that I presented to President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was not the doll that my parents worked so hard to obtain. My mom in particular was sad that another doll would be presented to Caroline, however she understood the significance of this replacement doll.”
Reflecting deeper, Ms. Krolewicz recalls her once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. “Although I still have the original articles from the Buffalo papers, back then I was young, so although I knew that what I was doing was very important, I did not understand the significance.”
“I remember the actual weekend as very long” she adds, “I needed to be dressed and ready for the photo shoot at the rectory of St. Stanislaus Church, with Msgr. Peter Adamski, the day before the parade. On parade day, a Sunday, I needed to be prepped again and driven to City Hall by my parents. I’m sure it was nerve-wracking for them to let their daughter go with the U.S. Secret Service to the podium where the presentation would happen. I remember stepping up and saying: ‘Mr. President, this doll is for your little girl, Caroline.’ The president needed to readjust the microphone and I needed to repeat the sentence so the crowd could hear. I recall him as very tall and tan with a kind face.”
The Osinski doll sits soundly and securely in a museum. But what ever happened to the Krolewicz doll? “I need to say that the original doll is still present in my home. Time has aged the dress, but the doll herself is still cute” admits Noelle as she sums up her wonderfully reminiscent experience. “I remember, a year later, how sad I was when I watched the president’s funeral on TV. Perhaps it touched me differently because of the small connection I had with him.”
Door #1, Door #2, Door #3
Let's Make a Deal. I'm sure you may remember that captivating TV game show back in those carefree, halcyon days of yesteryear. But are we still playing the game? Apparently yes, if you consider the different "doors" we are setting up for ourselves when it comes to following a faith. Let’s pose the question, why do the world’s faiths have so much difference if belief in God is the common denominator, as evidenced in the teachings of various founders such as Christ, Buddha, and Muhammad? The answer is never advertised because it is unpopular, that being because in fact, it is estimated that a full 90% of any faith’s tenets and doctrines were not, repeat, were not, instituted by the founder of the faith. By far the vast majority of any faith’s policies, be it Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, etc. were created by subsequent leaders of each faith by applying a founder’s teaching to arrive at a tenet, belief, or policy, assumed to be “in the best interest of the founder.” Therein resides the heart of the problem. Imagine if faiths could all drop the “self-portraits” and join forces as one global faith under God? Seeking to open one "door" seems logical, especially if there is one heaven.
First, honesty is essential to pursue objective truth in any conversation. Since all religions, including Christianity, are mysteries based in faith, it would be wise to admit truthfully that global peoples simply do not know factually, definitively, and tangibly how to attain salvation. Rather, they are basing their beliefs and practices, as noble and profound as they may be, on faith. Citing scripture is quite commendable, but again, objectively speaking, biblical exegesis may not be definitive or verbatim. Scholars have even concluded that the popular prayer "Our Father" had only 3 lines attributed to Jesus, with the rest of the prayer added by subsequent disciples. And was it the Sermon on the Mount as the Gospel of Matthew attests, or the Sermon on the Plain as the Gospel of Luke affirms? The point being that, perhaps we need to cut to the chase, clear away all the superficial rituals, dig down deep and consider the main core point of our chosen faith, and of others. Hmm, these cores are the same. Therefore, since we are discussing the intangible mystery known as religion, it would be unwise to claim authority in one arena as most religions of the world do, while dismissing another. Interestingly, the lives of John Paul II, the great unifier, and Mohandas Gandhi, were very similar. Gandhi, raised as a strict Hindu, was once angrily asked why he didn’t reject Pakistan’s encroaching Muslim population on India. And his reply: “I am a Muslim, and a Hindu, and a Christian, and a Jew, and so are all of you.” Do not be surprised to find peoples of other faiths in heaven. For if all are One in heaven, should we not seek to be One here on Earth?
Portrait of a Player, and Painter
The following was published in the Staten Island Advance a couple of years ago...
As the sun begins to set on another season of golf on all four of the Island’s courses, one West Brighton man offers a visual reflection of the sport from ages past.
Says 51-year old Andrew Ostrowski, a diehard golfer by day and freelance writer by night, “I owe my golfing game to my father, who not only was a champion player, but was also equally talented as a painter.”
Dan Ostrowski, Andrew’s dad, rose to local sport’s-stardom during the late 1950s and into the 1960s by winning numerous golf tournaments on the Island. Most notably, Dan played with the famed Sunrise Club, known for their early morning tee-offs at Silver Lake Golf Course.
As a member of the Silver Lake Men’s Club, his name frequented the Advance’s sports page headlines in defeating such notable names as Jimmy Iacovelli, Gil Smith, Steve Zuntag, and Jim Grosso.
Iacovelli, a well-known and heralded golfer during the 1950’s, was defeated by a 31-year old Ostrowski, then a virtual unknown competitor in the quarterfinals of the 1957 Silver Lake Club Championship.
And in one of the greatest matches ever played, as described by the Advance in its 1960 column, was that year’s quarterfinal round of the Silver Lake Club Championship. It pitted Ostrowski against Gil Smith in a grueling hole by hole battle resulting in no less than ten birdies being made. Ostrowski won by one shot.
Nicknamed “Doc O” for winning the illustrious Doctor F.J. McCarthy memorial tournament in 1967, his name became synonymous with fine golf and a finer attitude, right down to the respect he drew from fellow competitors and the near zero handicap he earned.
In fact, Tom Flannagan, a longtime friend of Dan’s and past golfing column writer for the Advance, put it perfectly in stating that “Doc was well-known for his golf talent as well as his gentlemanly approach to the game.”
But it wasn’t just precision shot-making that Dan excelled at. According to Andrew, the youngest of Dan’s six children, his occupation was a key ingredient in what would follow.
“My father was an architect in the style of Frank Lloyd Wright, who strived for precision and exactitude, designing many homes on Staten Island. It was no wonder then to discover that, after crafting perfect 18-hole golf shots on his way to winning tournament after tournament, he had a knack for creating golf holes with a paint brush and palette.”
Dan began his passion for painting using the oil color medium, recreating some of the holes he had played while walking the fairways. His early 1962 work titled “Fairway Willow” was a rendition of the 6th hole at Richmond County Country Club. And always looking at things from an architect’s perspective, his 1963 work titled “Greenskeeper’s Shack” was a cross-fairway portrayal of things typically not found in standard art.
As the years progressed, Dan experimented with watercolors which allowed him to paint more surreal, near fantasy-type golf holes. In fact, his 1992 work titled “Slice Shot” seems almost akin to a Claude Monet piece of art, with its winding cart path, overgrown tree, and sloped green.
After the millennium of 2000 however, Dan began to develop eczema of the fingers and was forced to “glue” his cut finger splits and wear protective gloves, as well as limit his golf. But it didn’t stop his painting passion, as he continued to turn out more art works, expanding into other venues such as recreating the lighthouses of Maine.
During his later years, Dan once again made the headlines by capturing top honors along with fellow golfing mate John Purtill in the 1997 and 2004 Senior Championships of the Silver Lake Men’s Club. And on the artistic side, he continued with his beloved painting.
In late September of 2015, after reaching his 90th birthday just five days earlier, Dan “Doc” Ostrowski passed away, leaving behind a legacy hard to match.
But aside from the trophies and bristle brushes, Dan’s recognized surname continues to be heard on the golf links and seen in his paintings, as Andrew attests to.
“Whether I’m out there swinging his prized Wilson X-31 golf clubs, the very same ones he used to win all those tournaments, or back home showing off his 1990 work titled Tee Box Divot, my favorite, I’m reminded that the game of golf, and so much more, is kept alive because of folks like my dad.”
Seven Strong Story
In just a few days we’ll be celebrating Veterans Day, a day that honors the service of all U.S. military veterans, both living and dead. Unlike Memorial Day, which specifically honors those who died while in military service, this month’s holiday opens up the page for us to paint a few portraits of people who deservedly should have their names memorialized regardless of whether they died then or afterwards. Here are just a few.
Walter Stojanowski. “I was 15 years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed. It was then that I decided to join the Navy.” Recalling the words of this then 80-something-year-old retired New York City firefighter and ex-restaurateur, who came to visit me one sunny afternoon in summer, what started out as “Sunday brunch” quickly turned into “60 Minutes.” Stojanowski, you see, brought along his wartime diary, eventually being allowed to join the Navy when he turned seventeen despite yet another rejection.
Flipping through the pages of his diary proved to be quite revealing, evidenced by accounts of bravery and daring, including a few unedited notes such as “One night in heavy shelling, three of my buddies were killed. One of their skulls was split in two. It was like a nightmare.”
The Cichon Brothers. If you get a street named after you, you are important! That’s exactly what happened when, thanks to the efforts of the Polish-American community of Elm Park, Staten Island, World War II veteran brothers Stanley and Henry Cichon finally got adequately recognized for their sacrifices.
Stanley, a Marine who fought at Guadalcanal and Tarawa, died on Iwo Jima in February 1945, being hit by a mortar shell. He was 24 years old. Henry, an aerial gunner on a B-24 bomber, was killed in the Dutch East Indies a month earlier when his plane exploded upon takeoff.
Matthew Skowronski. Not too much is known about this skinny kid from the old New Brighton section of Staten Island. He enlisted in the Army, never reached past the rank of Private, served with the 119th Infantry regiment, and had a service number of 32513750. He died as a result of traumatic injury in July of 1944, in the wake of D-Day. A pretty basic GI Joe, wouldn’t you say?
Yet the kid didn’t slip through anyone’s fingers, because a life-sized statue dedicated to him and 27 other “Joe’s” from the neighborhood sits pretty right alongside a popular roadway in the area.
Matthew Urban. Serving the war efforts in Germany, Belgium, France, Sicily, and North Africa, among other places, the Buffalo East High School grad and resident of 1153 Broadway went on to become one of the most decorated soldiers ever. While serving on the North African front, he was wounded in action seven times, spurring on a comment made by one of the members of his outfit, “The lieutenant was wounded in Tunisia and refused to be evacuated, then took up a combat patrol.”
“Captain Urban’s personal leadership, limitless bravery, and repeated extraordinary exposure to enemy fire served as an inspiration to his entire battalion.” So wrote President Jimmy Carter.
Stanley Ostrowski. “They won’t be turning out any Lugers for awhile.” Hand-written words from my uncle in the 3”x 5” diary he kept on all of his missions as a B-17 ball turret gunner. On that mission in February 1945, his target was a small arms factory in Weimar, Germany. With side notes about flak coming from anti-aircraft guns as well as enemy fighters swarming around the area, a reader can get scared just from these words alone.
I recall a line from Twelve O’Clock High, a film portraying the life of a bombardier, when the flight commander says “Forget about going home. Consider yourselves already dead.” Whew…
Matthew Fik. As she was getting ready for church at nearby St. Michael the Archangel parish, Ella Fik heard a knock on her front door. Rushing to open it and expecting to see either of her two sons, John or Matthew returning from battle, she instead was met by a frightened Western Union boy bearing that dreaded telegram.
Young Matthew died in a violent firefight on an island in the South Pacific. The 25-year-old enlistee from 1671 Electric Ave. in Lackawanna paid the ultimate price for victory, and all that is held dear.
Your Best Thanksgiving
“You’ve tried all the rest, now try the best.” No doubt you’ve seen that popular one-liner along the edges of your local pizza delivery box. Why don’t we cut to the chase here and apply the same line to an array of Thanksgiving dishes sure to find a fancy with your guests at next week’s big occasion. Ah, you’ve seen a bunch of other “recipes” of satisfactory merit, but now it’s time for the big-league batters of gastronomy to step up to the plate to hit you a home run. Thanks to Stella Marcinak and Jennifer Zaremba for the following palate pleasers, during the third week of November.
Apple fritters
Required: 4 apples, 1 tbs. sugar, 4 separated eggs, 1 tbs. sour cream, 1 tbs. flour, oil, powdered sugar, cinnamon.
Wash and core the apples and cut them into ¼ inch slices, then toss with sugar to coat. Mix egg yolks with sour cream, and beat egg whites until stiff. Combine the yolks, whites, and flour. Dip each apple slice in the batter and fry in oil until golden brown. Drain, then sift together powdered sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over fritters.
Potato salad
Required: 4 potatoes cooked in skin, 2 sour pickles, 2 tbs. onion, 2 cooked carrots, 3 hard boiled eggs, ½ cup green peas, ½ cup mayonnaise, ½ cup sour cream, 2 tbs. flat leaf minced parsley, salt, pepper, tomato.
Peel the cooked potatoes. Finely dice pickles, onions, and carrots, and chop the eggs. Add peas, salt and pepper, and mix gently with a spoon. Add mayo, sour cream, and parsley and mix. Garnish with tomato.
Old-World Polish onion soup
Required: 1 ½ lbs. onions, 1 leek, 2 parsley roots, ½ cup sour cream, 1 tbs. butter, 2 egg yolks, salt.
Rinse, peel, and dice the onions and veggies. Sauté them lightly in butter. Transfer to saucepan, cover with boiling water, salt, and cook until tender. Cool slightly, then puree in a blender. Mix sour cream with egg yolks and add to the hot soup. Mix well and salt to taste.
Macaroni with mushrooms
Required: 1 lb. cooked macaroni, 1 lb. mushrooms, 3 slices of ham, 3 separated eggs, salt, pepper, butter.
Rinse and slice mushrooms, sauté in butter. Cut ham into thin strips and whip egg whites until stiff. Mix macaroni with egg yolks and beaten egg whites. Salt and pepper to taste. Butter a baking dish, then layer in this order: macaroni, ham, macaroni, mushrooms, macaroni. Bake at 400 degrees F until golden brown.
Duck with apples
Required: 1 duck, salt, marjoram, 4 large Granny Smith apples, 1 tbs. butter.
Rinse duck and salt well. Rub with marjoram. Peel and core the apples and dice. Stuff the duck with the apples and truss. Place in a roasting pan, pour melted butter over duck and add 1 cup of water. Sprinkle the duck with water occasionally. Bake at 350 degrees F until brown.
Marysia’s meringue
Required: 2 egg whites, 1 ½ cups powdered sugar, 1 tbs. vinegar, 1 tbs. potato flour, 2 envelopes vanilla-sugar, 4 tbs. boiling water.
In bowl, beat egg whites until frothy. Add sugar and beat until stiff. Add vinegar, potato flour, vanilla-sugar, and boiling water. Mix for ten minutes until stiff. Line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil, then using a spoon drop golf ball size meringues. Bake at 250 degrees F for 30 minutes.
Peter’s Babeczka
Required: 2 cups of flour, 1 ½ tsp. baking powder, 1/3 lb. unsalted butter, 5 separated eggs, 1 cup powdered sugar, almond extract, bread crumbs.
Sift together flour and baking powder. Cream butter, egg yolks, sugar, and almond extract. While beating, add flour mixture. Whip egg whites until stiff, then fold gently into batter. Place mixture in a buttered pan coated with breadcrumbs and bake at 350 degrees F for 40 minutes.
Save a seat at your table, I won’t be late…
All about a Hammer and a Man
It was the summer of 1949, and a newly married 23-year old Dan Ostrowski drops by the local Sears & Roebuck store to purchase a folding tape measure, a box of 6-penny finishing nails, and a Craftsman hammer. Being skilled in carpentry, the young upstart architect settles into his new home and sets up his hobby’s tool shop in the basement, complete with a large workbench, a pegboard, and plenty of hardware to supplement. Eventually the summer heat subsides, and together with Victor Siuzdak, the husband of his wife’s sister, the pair of Poles tackle the task of remodeling the attic.
Day after day, with hammer in hand, bangs and booms are heard as sheetrock, 2x4s, floorboard and fiberglass insulation are put in place. Night after night, dinner is served to a hungry duo until the task is complete. Two new porches go up, front and back, then a picnic table, then a furnished cellar room, and on and on. And somewhere in the middle of all this hammering, six children are born.
But, it’s not too long before his trustworthy Craftsman hammer gets deployed back into action. Project after project, my father must have hammered some tens of thousands of nails using this hammer. In fact, the photo you see is of him holding your author on the back porch of his house circa 1969, a porch of course that was made using this hammer.
But speaking of nostalgia and sentimentality as pointed out above, the story of this breakneck, blue-collar hand tool and the Pole who wielded it draws its most merit and proof of power due to an unfortunate circumstance.
This story would have never been written had the hammer not broken a couple of weeks ago. While nailing an 8-penny common nail, the 65-year old hammer finally met its death as the head broke off from its hickory handle. I then took the head and handle to Sears as Craftsman’s policy permits a free replacement, however, the injured tool must be surrendered. Well, you’ve probably figured out the end of this story.
How could I surrender such memories?
The Little Town that Found
Eighty years ago. It’s hard to believe, but if you think about it relatively speaking, that really wasn’t too far back in time. Last month we remembered the infamous day of Poland’s invasion by the Nazis.
I had a chance to browse some archival stories of the war and came upon an interesting article about, as one Royal Air Force pilot described, “a lovable drunk and crazy artist-painter.” The pilot was referring to Lieutenant Tadeusz Stabrowski, who the article’s headline dubbed as “the Polish RAF Pilot who helped save Great Britain.”
A couple of quotes that would not fail to escape my attention, I read on to learn that Stabrowski was born in Poland six months before the end of WWI. Upon graduation from school, he entered the Polish Reserve Air Force. Then in 1939 when the Germans invaded Poland, Stabrowski was captured along with so many others and sent to a prison camp in Romania. Eventually he escaped and using a phony passport made his way to England where he joined the Royal Air Force.
Stabrowski saw his first assignment with the 258th Squadron and later with the more prestigious 308th Squadron. He was quickly making a name for himself, having participated in 149 missions before he was shot down over the English Channel in the spring of 1943. Reports were received that he had jettisoned himself from his Spitfire in an attempt to survive its crash. The next day however, a body washed up on the shore near the small town of Le Crotoy, France.
And here’s where the story gets remarkable. The handful of citizens of this little town in northern France, themselves known as Crotellois, had the heads-up to make the effort to identify Stabrowski as being Polish by the white and red emblem which all Polish RAF pilots wore on their uniform. The citizens paid for the man’s burial in the local cemetery called St. Firmin and a simple headstone marked “Unknown Polish Airman” was erected. Had these townsfolk not bothered to do this, Stabrowski would most likely have forever been among the numerous lost and unaccounted for soldiers of WWII.
And because of this little bother done some 76 years ago to identify the body as specifically being Polish, it allowed specific DNA testing to proceed today. Three years ago, Stabrowski’s grandson was among the list of possible Polish relatives and got a call from the Polish government. “They said there’s a grave in France and the grave is marked as an unknown Polish airman. And they had asked if it was okay if they could get a DNA sample from my father to compare,” he said.
His dad sent in a cheek scrape, the body was exhumed to compare DNA samples, and when the results came back it was clear: a 99.999% match confirmed the remains were absolutely those of his grandfather, Tadeusz Stabrowski. Said the grandson, “It definitely gives you a sense of relief, it gives you a sense of belonging. You know who he is, you know where he was. I’m attached to him. He is my grandfather.”
Stabrowski’s son, who the pilot’s wife gave birth to and who never met his dad, was able to watch as the long, lost Polish pilot received the military honors he was due. The lieutenant now has an official headstone with his name, again, paid for by the Crotellois townspeople and local French government. Stabrowski has been honored with the Cross of Valor and the Pilot’s Field Badge.
The article also pointed out that, in addition to the Polish airmen we often learn about, there were actually so many other Polish men wanting to serve that Britain’s War Cabinet had to create two fighter squadrons, numbers 302 and 303 made up primarily of Polish soldiers.
But not all these young men that arrived in England became pilots. Some served as ground support, doing repair and maintenance of the airplanes and vehicles used by the RAF. Thousands of volunteers, Poles among them, also manned the lookout posts along the west coast of the English Channel.
Anti-aircraft guns also had to be in good working order and had to be ready at a moment’s notice. Searchlights too needed to be operated and maintained constantly. And those either too old or not quite old enough or not qualified for service were able to do their part by keeping watch for signs of an invasion, taking part in the disposal of unexploded bombs, and patrolling at night along the coast.
As I neared the ending of the article, the same pilot who was quoted above went on to say more about Stabrowski, nicknamed the Drunken Angel. “On the ground he was humble, hunched, unkempt, constantly blinking, reckless, always late, absent-minded and in disregard of everyone and everything. In the air, he became a calm, precise and brave pilot with nerves of steel, and one of the best I have ever known.”
Pets and a Powerful Papal Punch
October 4 marks the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, patron saint of ecologists and animal lovers everywhere. With a bunch of our own pet aficionados among the Am-Pol Eagle community, I thought it would be fitting to offer an article on a hot topic dear to us all. That being, will we see our pets in heaven?
We never think about this possibility, do we? Traditionally we have been geared to focus exclusively on the souls of mankind, never even considering if animals, or other life forms such as a butterfly, have such a thing as a soul. Most people think that heaven exists, and it is a place of blissful existence. It would logically follow then, that since heaven is such a wonderful place, and being that all things are possible with God, it would be reasonable to conclude that our beloved pets will be there with us. The trouble is, we never thought to think “outside of the box.”
Let’s first go back to the Garden of Eden story. The decision to disobey God by “eating the apple” was made by us, not by the animals. Technically, you would therefore not be wrong by further concluding that animals should have an automatic entry into heaven since they have no elevated conscience to choose right from wrong such as humans have.
And, since we established that heaven is a place where all is good and happy, are the treasured moments you currently spend with your puppy, or the cuddling up you do with your cat, just nice memories we will have in heaven? Would it not bring at least a mild tear to your eye to recall them when you’re in heaven, wishing they were still with you? Of course. This is a no-brainer. It stands to reason then, based on all of what heaven is purported to be and the infinite power of God, that the logical mind would conclude that we will certainly be re-united with our beloved pets in heaven.
Logical mind, yes. Look no further than John Paul II. In fact, Wojtyla openly declared in a 1990 papal audience that “animals possess a soul and men must love and feel solidarity with our smaller brethren.” He added that animals are the “fruit of the creative action of the Holy Spirit and merit respect” and that they are “as near to God as men are.” Wow, that is one hell of a powerful punch! Obviously putting animals in the same proximity to God as Man is says a lot.
Fr. Jack Wintz, O.F.M. has written a wonderful book specifically on this topic, called “Will I See My Dog in Heaven?” In the book, Fr. Wintz cites several proofs that God desires the whole family of creation to be included in his plan of salvation. And if animals were of no significance in the overall picture, then St. Francis would most certainly not have devoted so much time to them.
But let’s play devil’s advocate for a moment. Some people say that heaven is unlike anything we know here on earth, that our pets do not have souls, and that our awareness in heaven transcends even the most affectionate, loving degree that any human can have while here on earth. In other words, once in heaven, we aren’t even aware that we had a loving pet because we are in a higher state of conscious love. Although it may seem empirically logical, this theory basically nullifies any affectionate worth that we displayed while on earth. That is to say, your deep-down love for your pet would be left out of your heavenly recollection. This does not seem to make sense simply because humanity’s highest claim to its self-worth, what sets it apart from other life forms, is its ability to love and reason. Therefore, it stands to reason that the affection we have now for our pets would carry over into heaven, where our affection for them would continue. For a human to expend their greatest effort in loving a pet, why then should they be robbed of the fruits of their love by not seeing their pets in heaven? For what is heaven, but the fulfillment of the maximum efforts of humanly love.
But what about that your son’s pet lizard, or that butterfly in the yard that your daughter has taken a likening to? Do reptiles and insects have “souls?” Good question. Who decides to what degree a beloved other-than-human creature possesses a soul and goes to heaven? Arguably, one can say indeed other things are in heaven. Christ himself promised his apostles: “I tell you, I will not drink this fruit of the vine from now until the day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s reign.” Clearly he is referring to wine. Therefore we must conclude that wine is present in heaven. If wine is, how about other pleasing things such as ice cream, throwing a baseball, and canoeing? One could actually make a valid argument for such items.
Opening up a discussion on such questions is precisely how we then come to understand why heaven is an eternal repository of souls surrounded by an environment which is exponentially full of good things, including our pets.
A Sixty Year Strong Interview
As last week's issue of the Am-Pol Eagle celebrated its 60 years of existence, I had a chance to chat with Renee Harzewski, owner of the paper. Here is what she had to say…
Andrew Ostrowski: Renee, thank you for the opportunity to reach our community of readers with just a slice of life from the roots of the Am-Pol Eagle. From its origins in 1959, the paper has certainly come a long way. Take us back a bit to those days of yesteryear. What were the goals of its founding fathers and how would you gauge the scale of its effect over the years to an ever-increasing Polish-American population?
Renee Harzewski: A few years after Everybody's Daily ceased to publish, the community lacked a print voice in the community. Even though the daily was published exclusively in the Polish language, the decision was made to publish an English language weekly which would appeal to a larger audience. The mission of the Am-Pol Eagle was and is to report news of interest to Polish Americans from religion, customs, traditions, socially, etc.
AO: Indeed a big part of any media publication’s success is both the hardware that produces the content and of course, the content itself. Mechanical printing machines, ink, press plates, rollers, and a lot of blue-collar back-breaking labor went into production of this newspaper especially in its rookie years. What were some of the hurdles associated with this type of modus operandi?
RH: Early on the production process like setting type from hot metal to cold type (a photographic process) to the actual printing was very labor intensive. The transition to computers was a challenge but it was time and labor saving. Imagine that just a few decades ago how different reporting was. If Robert Strybel was to send a report from Warsaw, prior to 1989, he would have to type it and mail it. It would go through the communist censors and weeks later we’d get the story. Now, when news breaks in Poland, it’s here in a matter of seconds via an email.
AO: Young adults today rarely reach for a paper version of any newspaper. In an age when paper-printed news is rapidly being replaced by digital means, what effect has this transition meant to our older generation readers who may fear the change? In dollars and cents, explain what it takes to keep afloat a traditional printed newspaper?
RH: Newspapers owned by some of the largest corporations in America and led by some of the wealthiest people in America have yet to find a successful formula for publishing an online newspaper that has the same size and caliber of reporters and editors as its print companion or predecessor. We provide our readers a print product and do offer the news online on our website.
While circulation has been stable many of the neighborhood/ethnic businesses have closed so our printing facilities (used for commercial printing, not for printing the paper) have subsidized the financial shortfall. Special guides like Dyngus, Cheektowaga Polish Arts Festival, Oktoberfest, etc. have also been helpful. Commercial printing has been a mainstay and the community has been very supportive in this regard.
AO: Typically when we think of a newspaper, we think of articles and information it provides to our community. Can you shed some light on the often overlooked other side of the equation, that is, what a community can provide to a newspaper in order to thrive?
RH: Staff is limited so leads for articles, notices for community events, announcement of special community events, photographs, are all greatly appreciated and welcome.
AO: Let’s take a breather, and allow me to ask you of any humorous stories you recall in the 60-year history of the paper?
RH: I can’t recall any humorous stories off the top of my head, but the importance of publishing stories is a vital part of what we do. Many of the stories we do print are not in the Buffalo News, they are not on local TV newscasts. Stories about Polish veterans, our organizations and the cultural or historical presentations are only found in our paper. There is much more to Polonia than Dyngus Day, and those stories we try to tell.
AO: The Am-Pol Eagle has a rich history of outstanding columnists, though sadly several of them have passed away while active in the weekly editions. Can you mention a few of the notables who are no longer among us and how they have left an honorable impression in the minds of our readers?
RH: Stan Franczyk was not only an astute political analyst, he also served as editor during the very early years of publication. He could cover almost any aspect of Polish American life. Edward Wiater was a schooled newspaper man. He was especially interested in Polish custom and traditions. Jackie Schmid was very involved in the polka scene. She could report on almost every polka band or event. Bob Pacholski was our longtime sports editor and contributed other features. He was an astute writer and editor. Also, our contributing editor David Rutecki wrote many if not all our editorials for years. You could give him any topic and he would write a fine opinion piece.
AO: Finally Renee, as the Am-Pol Eagle’s engines prepare to fire up full steam ahead with yet another edition in its 60-year high horse-powered tradition, who are some of the folks behind the scenes who have made it all happen? On behalf of the readers, permit us to extend kudos to these people as we look forward to another enjoyable issue of the Am-Pol Eagle.
RH: Among our writers and contributors are: Judge Carl Bucki, Peter Sloane, Thomas Tarapacki, Basia Szydlowski, Matt Kushner, Keith Kaszubik, Alfred Karney, Barbara Strzepka, Barbara Frackiewicz, Geraldine Bereziuk Lowrey, Steve Dlugosz, Bette Rydzynski Hulley, Denise Oliansky, Rev. Czeslaw Krysa, and Warsaw correspondent Robert Strybel. The paper also relies on our advertising sales staff – Michelle Kisluk and Steve Kroczynski as well as our secretary Chris Kane and website editor Stephanie Zawadzki. We also have great partners in Buffalo Newspress (which prints the paper) and Print Plus (which handles the mailing). All make the Am-Pol possible.
Mums the Word
Q: My comment is relating to the Child Victims Act article in this week’s edition of the news. It seems to me that too much attention is going to solutions for victims. Last month I saw a video put on in my church during Mass talking about how they have set up a hotline now for anyone to call with an allegation. As if, this is the solution to the problem. When is someone going to focus on the causes for abuse in the Catholic Church and the Boy Scouts? Nobody wants to talk about the causes. – Walt, New York
A: Hard to find an argument with you here Walt, thanks for your take on this. I agree, the causes, be them sexual dysfunction, psychological, hormonal imbalance, or whatever, never make for an easy discussion and have adopted a hush-hush policy since the beginning of time. But it’s no wonder these abusive problems exist, contraception included. How many times have we heard a sermon from the pulpit on the sanctity and proper Christian use of our procreative act? Can you recall? Neither can I. Mums the word. Maybe if it was talked about more, both people and priests would understand the sanctity of sex and there would be fewer abuses. So who’s to blame here? Now it comes back to bite them.
Keeping the Ship Afloat
Word has hit the streets, unofficially of course, that the Catholic Church is gearing up to release yet another round of modification to the practices and policies of both its liturgical and administrative handbook. Recall a few years back that several revisions were made on the proceedings of the Mass, well, this latest hint at change could make those past reforms look like pre-school stuff.
Although no reason for it was given, the biggest potential change will be in allowing not only Deacons to celebrate the Mass and consecrate the bread and wine, but women-clergy, a category still to be defined. But it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why this is being considered, would it? Given the tragic decline in seminary enrollment, not to mention the near-extinction of religious sisters, efforts to keep the ship afloat may only come with these new moves. But will priests someday be allowed to marry? At this rate in the current situation, maybe we shouldn’t become even more discouraged by asking.
How are your Spouses?
Piggybacking off of the above comes a “side-note” of sorts, although most people would term it more than trivial. Has anyone ever dared to pose the question, why can’t we have polygamous relationships? No, no, perish the thought, how dare we ask such a question? Indeed, the topic has surfaced recently shedding new light on an old, yes a very old, tradition. Opponents, such as mainstream Christianity, argue that Christ specifically stated that “a man shall leave his parents, cling to his wife, and they shall become one.” Proponents with some branches of the Mormon faith, Hinduism, Islam, and several other faiths on the other hand, argue that politics and “societal monogamous convenience” are the main reasons for polygamy being outlawed.
And the latter group may have a point. Interestingly, didn’t several notables in the Bible have multiple wives? In fact, over 40 Old Testament standout figures such as Moses and Solomon had multiple wives. Yet, we pick and choose which stories in the sacred text we want to accept, and which stories we want to reject. By rejecting polygamy, are we to defend this by stating that a man or woman either has 1) not the capacity to love multiple spouses equally, or 2) is not somehow allowed to love multiple spouses equally? Both seem to be absolutely ridiculous reasons if you think about it, yet, we don’t think about it.
Hmm, should we be surprised then, in our "orderly, civilized" Western world to see romantic flirtations occur outside of marriage? Does anybody ever wonder why so many monogamous marriages then proceed to suffer extra-marital love affairs? Are we somehow putting a "cap" on the extent to which two humans can express their love for each other?
Oh, outlandish thinking! Let's crawl back in our two-person beds and brain-boxes and continue to thrive in a nice and neat closed-culture where 1+1=2, umbrellas protect us from the rain, and life and death have been all figured out.
An Oddity at 1300 Feet
Undoubtedly many of you witnessed another marvel of sorts last month when tightrope daredevil Nik Wallenda and his sister took to the rooftops high above Times Square in New York City. The pair walked from opposite ends of a wire spanning 1300 feet across as onlookers below sighed with “ooo’s” and “ahh’s,” all the while as the duo mumbled prayers of thanks to Jesus for protecting them. Even popular preacher Joel Osteen was there and offered the Wallendas a blessing.
Eh, anybody see anything odd here? Truthfully, I was almost hoping that the pair would fall. What kind of convoluted logic places faith in God to protect us when we are gambling with the gift of life, and doing so for showmanship? Such would be an insult, and a blatant disregard to everything that the sanctity of life stands for.
In an interesting juxtaposition, I’m wondering how Mr. Osteen feels about the millions of people praying for an end to abortion because of life’s sacredness, while at the same time here we have two people disregarding that sacredness, and ironically fueling it with prayer? Perhaps the duo, with Osteen on hand, should take to the tightropes around Calcutta, India if only to learn of life’s worth. Maybe then they’ll put their prayer in perspective.
Stiff Suits and Salty Slogans
Twenty-five Democratic candidates for the 2020 Presidency have readied themselves at the starting line in what appears to be a free-for-all, anything goes effort at overtaking Donald Trump come next November. In fact, even the uneducated among the populace would not have a hard time figuring out this desperate measure. We’re talking everything from Bill DeBlasio’s ousting of private insurance in favor of Medicare-for-all, to Elizabeth “Pocahontas” Warren’s bizarre plan to guarantee Federal funding for abortion, even if Roe v. Wade is overturned. Huh?
In a two-night prime-time debate last month, NBC filled the television screens of Americans across the country who may have been looking for some direction. Looks like they got something else instead. Perhaps it was Eric Swalwell’s uniquely funny grin in between his politically correct verbiage, or to the opposite extreme, Kamala Harris’ mean, mad, and morose expression. Come to think of it, since Trump took office, has anyone ever seen her smile?
Unemployment is down, investments are up, racial uprisings are down, economic growth is up, business regulations are down, foreign relations are up. My politico-pal and I have concluded that even a Donald Trump discovery of a cure for cancer would be rejected by these candidates. After all the fuss during the last election, we agreed that Americans can no longer be fooled by stiff suits with salty slogans. Rather, the coup d’etat that occurred back in 2016 was perhaps just what this country needed.
It's a Question on Robotics
Q: Your story about Mark Wisniewski was especially interesting. I agree with him that we may be too closed-minded when it comes to faith. There must be a thousand religions out there with their own versions of salvation. I am reminded of St. John Paul II when he wanted to unite the faiths while he was Pope. – Fr. Greg, New York
A: Thanks for your comment Fr. Greg! In fact, there are no fewer than 4,200 religions in the world. Respectfully speaking though, perhaps more embarrassing is that there are 33,821 denominations of Christians. Wisniewski’s point is perfectly on key, yet we continue to stagnate in our failure to grow as one global people under one God, all in the same boat. And let’s be honest, what of us Catholics? Sunday after Sunday we attend Mass, Christmas, then Holy Week, then it all repeats itself…year after year after year. Truthfully, are we really evolving in spiritual growth, or are we stuck in a stagnated robotic state? I fear the latter is correct.
I agree with you, all religions should be sitting at a round table sharing ideas on life and death. JP2 said it perfectly: “to place the Church at the heart of a new religious alliance that would bring together Jews, Muslims, and Christians in a great religious armada.” Unfortunately, he died and his successor de-evolved the idea.
Tunnel Vision
Myths continue to persist surrounding the craze these days over the Lock Ness Monster, Sasquatch, Yeti, and the Jersey Devil, to name just a few. According to paranormal research and ex-Brookings Institution fellow Mark Wisniewski, “figments of our imagination can often become very, very real.”
The 63-year old think-tank retiree has been dabbling in the supernatural since childhood, but admits during his youth the subject was shunned in favor of less controversial things. “As a kid, three things that our parents deemed off-limits were cigarettes, girls, and questions about life and death. Nobody messed with the status quo, but now we seem to be in trouble merely due to ignorance.”
Wisniewski proposes that, because of our culture’s refusal to question its own existence but instead keep itself in a closed-circuit of consciousness, we have evolved into a mindset of fascination about things that otherwise would have been mundane.
Since none of the above anomalies have been proven, technically they should be dismissed in a healthy, mature mind. The researcher, although admittedly a theist-believer, also adds the belief in God as an end-product of the same upbringing. Says he, “God may indeed turn out to be, but there’s a strong chance we will all be in for quite a rude awakening after we find out what God really is simply because of our tunnel vision.”
Alcatraz
Some of you may have tuned in to a recent cable network production detailing the history of escape attempts from Alcatraz prison. At the height of the show was of course the 1962 break-out made famous by Clint Eastwood in an epic film. That attempt was based on the true story of three men, who to this day conjure up equal shares of success and failure as far as their effort. The film proceeded to itemize every aspect of the escape, culminating in a letter sent to the San Francisco police many years later allegedly from one of the escapees who was dying from cancer.
What was even more interesting, however, was something that the show probably never really intended to witness. As they interviewed both former guards and prisoners, now respectable citizens in their 80s, it became quite obvious that these former polar opposites back then, were still polar opposites now.
One would think that both guards and prisoners, now aged men, would empathize with one another and share stories of their former selves amicably and sentimentally. No way, as seen on the show, the captain of the guard was just as stern and authoritative as he was in 1962, even standing a noticeable distance away from the former prisoners and looking elsewhere when speaking to them. The ex-prisoners however, seemed to display more authenticity and “heart” in retelling stories of their prison days.
It makes us wonder, the end product of imprisonment is supposed to be a reformed ex-prisoner, but maybe the guards need to be imprisoned too…
Shades of 1933
Not even talk show host Laura Ingraham came up with this latest theory on the current nature of the Democratic party, nor did anyone else for that matter. Leave it up to a colleague of mine to posit a question that, given the mantra sung by the Dems such as amnesty for all illegal immigrants, pro-choice freedom, and the Green New Deal, all seemingly “righteous” proposals for the good of the people, coupled with the condemnation of the President as being a hard-lining totalitarian, ehh, isn’t this somewhat similar to what happened in 1930s Nazi Germany?
Recall that the Nazi’s began cooking a stew that at first seemed to taste good to the average citizen, promoting nationalism while promising the average John Doe of Germany a fair shake. Then as the country’s allegiance to the Nazi’s grew stronger, we all know what evils the party morphed in to. But dare not any law abiding citizen raise a finger in protest, or they might have found themselves with a one-way ticket to Auschwitz.
It’s interesting that month’s back Trump was accused of being like Hitler, taking a firm, decisive, and polarized stand on things such as abortion, the border wall, and the Middle East crisis, for which he had been labeled as a dictator.
However, is not the promotion of the Democrat’s message in the examples described above also kind of dictatorial? Indeed, granting us “freedoms” may sound nice, but is in itself a decisive stand. Essentially they are telling you and me, not suggesting but telling us, that as Americans, for example we have to be kind to illegal immigrants, let a woman have an abortion if she wants to, and you have to stop using fossil fuels. For the Democrats, this is the embodiment of what it means to be an American, but in doing so are in fact exhibiting a dictatorial “Hitleresque” message.
Let’s be clear, Trump, via his message, is technically doing the same as far as being authoritative, but in no way to the degree that the Democrats and the media are doing. I just read a report the other day that an elderly woman peacefully protesting outside of an abortion clinic was attacked violently by a few teenage girls who have apparently put the Democratic spoken words of pro-choice into physical action. And the liberal media, by largely ignoring the incident, seemed to condone it.
Hold it a minute, are these values what the country’s founding fathers had in mind? Probably not, rather, to be an American supposed to mean that we are tolerant of everyone’s ideas, as radical and different as they may seem to us, as long as no laws are broken. Yet, one political party continues to display zero tolerance for Trump even when no laws are broken. Eh, shades of 1933?
Taking a definitive and intolerant stand on a legal issue, and this applies to both the Republican and Democratic parties, may be in fact actually anti-American. But how then do we govern, as my colleague asked? Surely, governing requires a specific stand as well as action to be taken on a variety of issues. For example, Right to Life proponents may argue that abortion should be outlawed if we claim to abide by the four words written on our currency, In God We Trust. Therefore, the legal law then becomes legitimately questionable.
Ultimately, decisive and definitive laws become necessary to keep the peace in a world where everybody thinks they know how to rule. In the end, we may have to leave it all up to the heavens…
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...and 1987 One of the toughest days in 87! Who's that in front at 9:07 on the video...WHO'S "the new leader on the road"?! :) |
Tragedy times Two
The absolute tragedy of last month's Notre Dame Cathedral disaster continues to become unbelievable given the 850 years of heritage it has given the world. Housing countless relics, the medieval mega-structure perhaps taught the world a lesson or two in faith continuance, and although the calamity occurred, perhaps it could not have happened at a more influential time.
Sometimes, just sometimes, it takes a tragedy to spur on a change of heart. I’m talking about the sad fact that the overwhelming majority of French people, who identify themselves as Catholic, are merely doing so by name. If you thought church attendance in the U.S. was bad, it pales in comparison to that of France, where age-old structures like Notre Dame have evolved into more of a museum than an active house of God. Yes, a sad way to look at it, but hopefully the burning flames of the Cathedral have re-ignited the extinguished flames of the heart, right at the opportune time, Easter.
Piggy-backing off of the above, I may have stumbled on another rather downwardly discouraging tragedy, that being the criteria we use to identify ourselves as Catholic. I used to think that those who always refrained from receiving Holy Communion due to apparent unworthiness yet never remedying that via the confessional was bad, but this latest dilemma may be worse.
Have you ever wondered why some people who attend Sunday mass are nowhere to be found at Holy Day masses? I recently asked one gentleman in the non-Polish parish that I attend, Charles was his name, who lectors, what mass he would be attending on an upcoming holy day, pretending to want to chat with him then. Anticipating his reply correctly, he then told me that he typically only comes to mass on Sundays. I’ve learned that yet another server, Patricia, a Eucharistic minister, only comes to mass with her husband and children “to do her duty” whenever she is scheduled to serve. The other Sundays are days off.
Can you believe this? Where is the Catholic Church going if its lectors and Eucharistic ministers, who supposedly are embodying the mission of the Church, are adopting this attitude? Can we therefore blame the secular guy next door, or the people of France for that matter, for their lackluster stance on faith? Coupled with the fact that virtually no new Catholic matrimonials return to the altar for Sunday mass, eighty percent practice contraception, and less than twenty percent receive reconciliation, the relics of Notre Dame and its affiliates may soon include you and me.
"Oh, but I'm a good person, I do good deeds for others, am kind towards my neighbor, and maintain a good attitude each day so I don't really need to go to Church because this is what matters isn't it?" so says the average person on the street.
Yes, that's what matters, but how then are these people different than the typical ancient Egyptians who also exhibited these traits, or the 1st century Roman spectators in the Coliseum who, in addition to cheering on bloody killing, were polite, amicable, thoughtful people? Where's the difference?
Pretty soon you got the secular Catholic guy next door chopping wood in his backyard on Good Friday, unleashing F-bombs when he misses a cut, but thinking nothing of it because he paused for a moment of silence at 3 o'clock. Then you got the secular Catholic over there who, after going to Church for his annual Easter Sunday duty, sits back on the sofa later that evening and watches some sexy flik on TV and gets aroused.
By abandoning established religion, what society is increasingly doing is creating its own parameters for what constitutes salvation. This is a terrible, terrible tragedy and a real negative aspect of our evolving "intelligence". One would think the opposite to be true; that being as we evolve, our intellectual maturity proportionally increases so that we would embrace the mystery of faith more, simply because we are more mature to consider it, along with various phenomena and unexplained mysteries like Bigfoot and Ancient Aliens, which we have embraced full throttle. This trend in intellectual maturity may be seen as a good thing, but the danger being that logic and rationale have now taken priority over faith and mystery. Instead of accepting the mystery of the Trinity, for example, we look for tangible proof of these three parts, like we do a footprint of Bigfoot, and focus our allegiance to that logical pursuit.
This is perhaps, arguably, the key factor in why our younger generation simply has no interest in faith. If I'm a kid of 16 and see a Eucharistic Minister attend Mass on the same schedule as I attend rock concerts, why should I go to Mass every week if they don't?
I’m calling on all church leaders, administrators, and parish pastors to make a point of politely informing their lectors and Eucharistic ministers of the responsibility of the duty being volunteered for which clearly has influence on others. These servers are “billboards” for the faith, and if their actions aren’t on par with the Church’s guidelines, how can we then blame anyone for being over par?
The Diamond Anniversary of The Great Escape
4,000 beds, 1,699 blankets, 161 pillows, 478 spoons, 52 tables, 34 chairs, and 30 shovels. And that’s merely a sampling of what it took to break out of the prisoner of war camp known as Stalag Luft 3 located in Sagan, Poland exactly 75 years ago. Highlighted in this column every year, as we commemorate the greatest escape in the annals of war, in itself spanning several volumes, let’s focus our attention on the night of March 24, 1944.
To set the stage, we recall that the escape, made famous by the 1963 blockbuster hit film titled “The Great Escape”, involved a potpourri of allied escape artists all thrown into the same camp. Among them, six Poles, all officer airmen who were shot down and captured. Incredibly, not only were they skilled in the sky, these guys had very unique talents in engineering, designing, and pure muscle work. Not a good stroke of luck for the German Luftwaffe who managed the camp, and luckily they didn’t know it until that night. But more on a few of these men in a minute.
I tried to contact the son of one of those Poles by the name of Paul Tobolski, whose father Pawel Tobolski (photo left), a flying officer with the 301st Squadron and shot down in June of 1942, took part in the escape but my unsuccessful effort was rewarded by fortunately coming across some notes he made.
Entering hut number 104, the epicenter for the escape which featured a hidden trap beneath the hut’s shower drain leading to a tunnel some 30 feet deep and 300 feet across, just after midnight was a soldier dressed in German uniform. Alarm bells went off in the minds of the escapees who were suited up in civilian clothing and queued up for the blitz out. But it was Pawel Tobolski. Nice escape outfit, wouldn’t you say?
At about 2:15am, with snow all over the ground, the first man through the tunnel emerged at the exit, but popping his head out discovered that they were 30 feet short of the camouflaged woods, and instead were forced to set up a rope signal to alert escapees when they could emerge. Rather than the planned one man escaping every minute, instead it was more like a dozen men escaping every hour. By morning, 76 prisoners made it to freedom, but only temporarily.
Fortunately Tobolski got out before the sirens went off. You see, priority was given to those guys who contributed their skills to the effort, and Tobolski, because of his diversion skills in organizing singing choirs to offset the tunnel construction noise, was one of the first men in line to escape. Oddly enough, during the years of construction, the Germans did not think anything suspicious about Tobolski’s selection of Christmas carols being sung even when it was nowhere near Christmas!
Getting back to those other Poles, architect Wlodzimierz Kolanowski, also a flying officer, stepped in to lend his expertise. Kolanowski placed entrances to two of the other tunnels, yes there were three, directly underneath hot stoves, which the prisoners moved using a pair of bed boards. Unfortunately both tunnels were trashed, one being abandoned due to lack of concealment and the other being discovered by guards. That put the entire effort into the tunnel above, called ‘Harry.’
“Because I must get out. I hide the fear, so I dig” replied Charles Bronson who played the part of one of those Poles in that 1963 film. He was asked why he wouldn’t go through the tunnel being that he was its principle digger, or ‘tunnel king.’ In reality, Bronson played the part of 28-year old Flying Officer Stanislaw Krol, a muscle-bound hunk with a blue collar work ethic who happened to suffer from claustrophobia in real life. “As I was haring up the tunnel, all I could see was Sax's butt blocking the way and I expected a bayonet or a bullet up my butt at any moment!” So stated Flying Officer Ken Rees who was the 78th prisoner in line but sadly, the guy in front of him misinterpreted the rope signal and emerged directly beneath a guard. They were caught…and the great escape was over.
The 76 men who emerged from that tunnel and ran into the woods not only had food rations with them, but maps and timetables for the local railway. Nearly all of them missed their connections, and had to further fake their presence by posing as local citizens, reading newspapers or riding bicycles that they stole, or in Tobolski’s case, as a German soldier chewing bubble gum.
No good, they failed to fool the Gestapo, who in the hours ahead eventually caught 73 of them and then, in a horrendous decree by Hitler, received orders to execute 50 in cold blood. Among the fifty were the six Poles, including Major Antoni Kiewnarski, murdered on March 31, Flying Officer Kazimierz Pawluk, also killed on the same day, and Flying Officer Jerzy Mondschein, executed a day earlier.
By the way, March 21 would have been Pawel Tobolski’s 113th birthday…
Reflections 'a la Wojtyla'
This week we remember the fourteenth anniversary of Saint John Paul II’s passing. I recalled a trip I took to Rome during the preceding Easter season in which I got a chance to see him in a Papal audience as well as tour the entire city while pondering over his life. Here are some excerpts from that experience.
Steeped in history, mystery, religious fervor, and wartime drama, my journey to see the magnificence of this city “a la Wojtyla” began. This was a city we've all heard about. Countless films have been seen portraying its splendor. History books going hand-in-hand with legend.
And there they were. Almost immediately the towering Church domes come into view. Church after church appeared throughout Rome's maze of intertwining narrow city streets. Fascinatingly enough, the beautiful and well-adorned Basilicas harmoniously co exist with the age-old medieval Churches, many of which stand side by side. Time for a deep breath and some thought.
The canoe trip
It was during his canoe and camping adventures with friends on the Skawa River in Poland in the mid 1930s that the young Karol Wojtyla first began to learn of his life’s calling. He would later refer to these outdoor activities as significant stepping stones in his life. For the young Karol, nicknamed “Lolek,” his strict and disciplined Catholic upbringing geared him into a more philosophical mindset amongst the natural setting on the Skawa.
Suffering however became a regular part of little Lolek’s life. Whether it was his infant sister dying even before he was born, the loss of both his mother and his brother to illness, or himself miraculously surviving after getting hit by a truck, a pattern of continuous grief greatly influenced his Pontifical disposition as the “Suffering Servant” in Christ once again took shape.
The early years
Upon entering the Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Wojtyla became quite the handsome "Hollywood" man. His passion for theater was quite noticeable, and his collection of poetry resounds even today.
At the University, he continued his childhood pursuit of philosophy, but due to the death of his father, Wojtyla realized that the logical course of his life’s philosophical endeavors would be ultimately fulfilled as a theologian. He studied for the priesthood secretly at an underground seminary in Krakow to avoid the occupying Nazi forces and was ordained in 1946.
Back on my feet and crossing Rome’s St. Angelo bridge, which is adorned with breathtaking life-size statues of the saints, I approached St. Peter’s Square from the famous via della Conciliazione. I was now officially in the principality of Vatican City, which is somewhat separate from the rest of Italy and complete with its own Postal Service. Then, the much anticipated colossal structure stood before me - St.Peter’s Basilica.
I had the opportunity to attend Holy Thursday Mass inside the Basilica, where the ethereal atmosphere of echoing song against frankincense and myrrh provided a divine setting indeed. Processions of clergy entered, followed by His Holiness Pope John Paul II. Now, acoustics can really be tested, as loud praises began.
The Pope truly found favor with the thousands who came just to get a glance at him. For the well-planned traveler, reserving a seat at his weekly audiences was a must. I had the chance to see firsthand what it was like in this small-scale setting, where only a limited number of people can actually greet the Pope. And it was as if he knew you during your entire life. His warmth and congeniality was surpassed by none.
The Big Move
In 1962, Wojtyla was appointed Archbishop of Krakow after serving on the second Vatican Council. His appointment as Cardinal in 1967 paved the way for this tough yet accommodating moderate reformer.
The scene was set. Rome, September 1978. After a mere 34 days in office, Wojtyla’s predecessor, John Paul I had mysteriously died of a heart attack. The Sacred College of Cardinals tossed and turned in deciding who would take on the task of pontiff. Finally the familiar white smoke emerged from the rooftop of the Vatican. Wojtyla became the first non-Italian pope in over 400 years, and one of the youngest at the age of 58.
Easter Sunday Mass found me nowhere else but amongst the thousands of pilgrims packing into St. Peter’s Square. This outdoor Papal Mass was simply phenomenal, and the highlight of my trip. Especially significant were the Pope’s homilies, repeated in several languages. And this was not a one-way sermon at all. Almost after each sentence came praises and exclamation from the people. He was truly a people’s Pope.
My best takeaway came from that Papal audi ence gathering. Getting closer to him, I began to see the real John Paul II. His contempla tive eyes drew me in to a world of compassion. The strands of brilliant white hair atop his head seemed to symbolize that yes, indeed this man repre sented purity at its best. And even though the frail physique of this Parkinson’s disease suf ferer was clearly evident, be hind the deep lengthy wrinkles in his face was a man of pro found faith, a witness to hope in a then, and still, dreary world.
A Lenten Lottery of Questions
It’s here, believe it or not. Many Christians everywhere will be observing the start of the most sacred time of year, Lent. Rather than go through the usual rigamarole of this annual rite of spring, which undoubtedly results in a fair amount of complacency, how about offering a God‘s honest “cafeteria service?” Yeah, we know we’re supposed to fast, go to confession, and be at the church on Good Friday around 3pm, right?
Sadly, that is all that most people remember they should do.
Drop the bad habit, and pick a question or two from the following think-tanked, all-out bombardment of thought provoking questions to start your season off with a bit more meaning this time.
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Pilate's verdict was pronounced under pressure from the priests and the crowd. The sentence of death by crucifixion was meant to calm their fury and meet their demand of “Crucify him! Crucify him!”
Q: Ask yourself, how often have you too been scourged, ridiculed, and thought unpopular for defending what is right?
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Need we be reminded that we are dust, and unto dust we shall return? Ashes will physically brand us with a burnt, black forehead sign as a wake-up call in reminding us not to forget that our skin and bones don’t last.
Q: Are you receiving ashes merely to follow protocol, or do you really have the guts to abandon your body and embrace your soul?
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Pilate said to the crowd: ‘Ecce Homo, look what you have done to this man!’ But there seems to be another voice speaking as well, saying: Look what you have done, in this man, to your God!
Q: Come on, we know you’re against abortion, but ask yourself, are you still part of the crowd on super-critical issues like contraception and its “politically correct” clone called natural family planning?
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Mysteriously, long confessional lines seem to only appear between Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday in too many 11th-hour efforts at redemption, isn’t that so?
Q: Very simply, why are we so hesitant to go to confession?
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“His Cross becomes her Cross, his humiliation is her humiliation, the public scorn is on her shoulders,” to quote Saint John Paul II during one of his Way of the Cross services in Rome.
Q: When was the last time you examined your life and asked, would my own mother be proud of me?
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You see them everywhere, even around your own neck. They come in gold, silver, and every other material as well as in all kinds of shapes and sizes. The crucifix of course.
Q: Ask yourself, am I wearing a crucifix because it looks nice and goes with my wardrobe, or is it because I aim to advertise the symbol of salvation? Come on, let’s be honest.
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The sixth station of the Cross is interesting. In fact Jesus left his imprint on every single act of charity, as he did on Veronica's cloth.
Q: How many times have you passed by a homeless person sheltered in the gutter who was asking for spare change? How many times?
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Pizza, popcorn, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We’ll have to remember this while sitting on the sofa watching our favorite sitcom. The issue here is not any particular item that tastes yummy or that we have grown habituated to. Rather, it is our tendency to become dependent on something, devoting a great deal of attention to it.
Q: What are you giving up for Lent, anything?
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X marks the spot, as they say. The tenth (X) station of the Cross is where Jesus was stripped of his garments. A person’s body is the expression of their soul, as goes the popular maxim.
Q: Do you change the television channel when you come across movies displaying nudity and enacting sins of the flesh? Please be honest.
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Prayer. A soothing, comforting word we hear all the time. We assure our sick friends that they “are in our thoughts and prayers.” We send out condolence cards at funerals citing our prayerful intentions. But is this just a word that sounds nice to offer? Sadly the answer is probably yes, because for the majority of us that’s all we do.
Q: Seriously, how often do you honker down and pray quietly and contemplatively?
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Nearing the final station of the Cross, Karol Wojtyla once remarked, “In the mystery of the Redemption, we are enriched by a gift from on high and at the same time bought by the ransom paid by the Son of God.”
Q: Looking at your life and considering Christ’s ransom already paid for it, honestly ask yourself, hell, are you worth it?
Tough questions, yes. It’s tune-up time…
The Bizzaredom of 2020
Who do they have? I mean who do they have? If the Democratic party has any inclination of winning back the Presidency in 2020, so far they are going nowhere fast. With talk of walls not stopping crime, out-of-the-womb abortions, and no more airplane travel, at first this may have seemed like an episode out of Seinfeld.
Unfortunately though it’s real, and the top contenders for the title all support such “bizarredom.” And I believe I just invented a new word.
Mark these words, no Democratic politician will be elected in 2020. Rather, the only chance they have of beating Donald Trump, who was elected in large part not because of his policies, not because of his deal-making skills, and not because of his TV show, but merely because we the people found congruence with a “regular” guy who more often than not had a bad mouth, was accused of adultery, and didn’t care about telling it like it is, would be to find someone similar.
Back in 2016, as it had been forever, it was fairly easy to pull the wool over a typical voter’s eyes with fake news, negative ads, and not-to-be kept promises. Given the historic events of that election, people may have wisened up a bit and may now be more apt to question a candidate’s validity. It will certainly be interesting to see how the process unfolds now that the 2020 campaign is officially underway.
Boob-Tube Dirt Diggers
If treasure hunting is your game, you'll want to catch the name of Real Live Relic Hunter, the Staten Island based squad which includes eight Polish-Americans, set to dig deep in search of the world's most elusive artifacts, and hopefully coming to your television screens soon.
The nine-person team, spanning the spectrum from engineers to actresses, and supplemented by a group of Franciscan monks, including an exorcist, opens the 2019 season with a host of exotic, still undiscovered antiquities on its to-do list, and will propose to do so in a live, edit-free series of episodes.
Among them is the pistol that killed our nation's 16th president, Abraham Lincoln, in light of recent doubts that the one on display at Ford's Theater museum in our nation's capital is the real McCoy.
Also on the hunting list are the thorns from Christ's crown which were purportedly distributed to kingdoms around the world centuries ago, as well as fragments of the original cross upon which Christ hung. Says the Reverend Louis Jerome, Pastor of St. Charles R.C. Church in the Oakwood Heights section of the Island, a kielbasa lover, and friend of the team, "When we focus on the cross of Jesus, we see the tree of humanity's defeat becoming the 'tree of victory' in the Resurrection". Inspiring words which only add fuel to the team's burning desire to locate the originals.
And the team is ready to take a dive, literally speaking, in attempting to prove once and for all if the airplane wreck sitting on the floor of the English Channel contained big band leader Glenn Miller whose plane was allegedly hit by a dropped bomb from an unloading B-17 bomber flying above.
As director of the team, it has been my privilege to work with this group of go-getters, with the added icing on the cake being their Polish roots. Our team is all about uncovering the truth, even though it may occasionally hurt our long established traditional beliefs. In this cyber age of real-time instant information, there is simply no time for fairy-tales. But who are these truth-tellers?
Celeste Lesniewski-Eagleston, modeling actress from Elmont, NY, is a senior marketing specialist for Canon USA. She is a NYS licensed wildlife rehabilitator and small aircraft pilot, and has modeled for Pocono Mountain resorts. She hosts Canon USA trade shows at the Javitts Center in NYC.
Eliza Wierzbinska, modeling actress from Staten Island, NY, has been modeling since she was 14 years old, most notably with NY powerhouse Wilhelmina Agency. She is a former Ms. Polonia and dedicated fan of opera and ballet. She aspires to be a doctor of clinical psychology.
Izabela Majewska, supporting model from New York, NY. She is a Fordham Law School graduate and attorney. She first started working as a model while still in high school. Member of the NYC Pulaski Day Parade Committee.
Zsa Zsa Niechcielska-Riordan, apprentice actress from Hackensack, NJ. She was the 2009 Polish Junior National figure skating champion and was coached by Elaine Zayak, notable figure skating superstar.
Andrew Warren, ancient site researcher from Brooklyn, NY. He is a freelance linguistics translator and Polish historian. Currently he still holds the unofficial world record for most flights taken by a youth, having flown a total of 116 times before turning 20!
Tom Ostrowski, video and sound editor from Los Angeles, CA. He is an animation genius who has received public accolades for his now-famous invention of ‘Clay People’ You-Tube videos.
Thomas Ostrowski, Sr., Olde New England site advisor from Portland, Maine. Senior leader and technical advisor for all relic hunting sites north of New York City.
The team’s anticipated edit-free and live national broadcast series, which would be the first of its kind, is being planned, so be on the lookout for it in your local cable-TV listings.
As an added bonus to the new season, the team is sharing an affinity for ancient medieval times with fellow artisans in France, inspired by a singer who I was lucky enough to write a pair of songs for. Added to that, having family, friends, and my sweetheart Nadine all living in France, I am rather philosophical about the group's work. Fortunately for our team, France has remained pretty pristine, undeveloped, and raw, and also sports several spooky castles and chateaus. A perfect ‘rendezvous’ for what we are all about. Who knows, will Poland be our next stop? I wouldn’t bet against it.
More about the predominantly Pol-Am team and their upcoming adventures can be found at RealLiveRelicHunter.com.
White? White??
That’s what I was asking as the symbol of purity passed by our eyeballs during last week’s televised State of the Union address in the bodily form of Democratic congresswomen present in the House chamber. Were they kidding? How ironic that such proponents of Andrew Cuomo’s barbaric new ruling allowing bloody infanticide in the form of late-term abortion don the purity and innocence of white. Perhaps an off-white color would have been more appropriate. Sad to see our state's spiritual leader, Cardinal Timothy Dolan, play politician in basically offering Cuomo a slap on the wrist rather than justifiably reprimanding him and banning him from receiving the sanctity of the Holy Eucharist, and making it known publicly. How about a little backbone and defense for all the folks praying and actively engaging in the Pro-Life campaign, for God's sake?
Sad too to see those proponents of socialism hold their heads down when talk of ideologies arose. Although socialism looks good on paper, having no poor folks, no rich folks, and everybody in a Kumbaya state of mind, in reality, it doesn’t work, literally speaking. When are we going to admit that people need to be forced to work if they want to grow, develop, and prosper, aka Capitalism? Nobody is going to go to school and study their ass off for a good job if the government is handing them Socialist gratuities in the form of free healthcare, food stamps, and ironically even free education. That is the plain truth.
Do you lock your home’s front door at night? Of course you do. Why then can’t we lock the country with a wall? Perhaps somebody should have asked King Arthur whose shining city of Camelot, the epitome of purity, nobleness, and all that was good, was surrounded by a wall. Oh and the Holy City of Jerusalem that we attest to in liturgical readings every Sunday, have we forgotten that it too was surrounded by a wall?
God help us...
The Sad Smile of POGO the Clown
In the spirit of the old saying by Adolph Ochs, owner of The New York Times back in 1897, who had the words “All the news that’s fit to print” etched onto the left ear, or upper corner, of the paper’s masthead, let’s take a look at perhaps an unpopular subject not eagerly publicized, that being the life and death of one of this country’s most infamous men, serial killer John Wayne Gacy, who unfortunately was a Polish-American.
“Gacy created this persona of POGO the clown, which stood for Gacy being Polish and on-the-go,” says John Borowski, director of Serial Killer Culture, a documentary film examining the reasons why artists and collectors are fascinated by serial killers.
Indeed, the aftereffects of this Chicago-born son of an auto repair machinist, whose real surname came from western Poland in the form of “Gatza” or “Gaca,” may be just as dramatic as the crimes themselves. Just consider that Gacy, while imprisoned for his crimes described below, took up painting as a hobby, only to find his artwork being exhibited and sold at auctions for upwards of $20,000. When asked about the fascination of the outside world willing to spend that kind of money for a killer’s “autograph,” Gacy remarked that his paintings “bring joy into people’s lives.”
So what did he do, and why did he do it? Between the years of 1972 and 1978, Gacy sexually assaulted, tortured, and murdered at least 33 teenage boys and young men inside his ranch house in suburban Chicago. Twenty-six of the bodies were buried in the crawl space beneath his house, a few were buried in his yard, and the rest thrown into a river.
Typically, the modus operandi was for Gacy to lure his victim-kids by offering them something they liked, a promising job opportunity, or simply asking them to give him a hand with a chore. Seemingly innocent enough, it was an easy strategy. But was it really strategy, or…?
Having always been critical of the justice system’s protocol for applying incarceration and death sentences to crimes committed, a protocol that bestows proportional punishment to the degree of severity, I begin to wonder if we will ever reach our peak level of intellect, in light of the almost instant reaction given to this man’s crimes, as abhorrent as they were.
In reading the details of how it all happened with Gacy, a reader’s instant take-away is that this man was an evil-doer deviant from us and got what he deserved, the death penalty. Scratching our heads for a second, is that all there was to it? Surely humanity, in all its intricate and multi-woven facets of thought processes and cause-effect relationships of why we think what we think and do what we do, should enter the equation here before we pass a mindless, animal-instinct sentence on such a horrific set of circumstances.
Before returning to Gacy in particular, perhaps the problem with our justice system is that its rules and regulations, and subsequent consequences for breaking them, are perfectly put into law…but for whom? The people making the laws. Indeed, if lawmakers, or you and I were to commit such heinous crimes as Gacy did, we would deserve the severest of sentences, of course, it’s a no-brainer. Correct, a perfectly proportional justice system. But was Gacy, and so many of our mass-murderers and criminals, like us and therefore deserving of the same degree of law?
The answer is probably no, as this man was clearly misaligned somewhere, somehow. Yet we were so quick to convict him with a “normal” sentence. Would it not be wiser to admit our ever-evolving study of the human condition in learning about ourselves, this man, and others like him, instead of simply lethally injecting him?
God only knows why serial killers do what they do; we may only have a hint. In Gacy’s case, might his upbringing have had just a little to do with his eventual demise, as his father was reported to have beat him spontaneously, refer to him as a “sissy,” and level names at him like “dumb and stupid.”
Just before Gacy was arrested, he drove to the home of a fellow construction contractor friend, as one of his jobs was in the blue-collar business. Inside the living room, Gacy hugged his friend before bursting into tears and saying: “I killed 30 people, give or take a few.” Gacy then left the home and as he drove along the expressway, surveillance officers noted that he was holding a rosary to his chin as he prayed while driving.
As pointed out, God, not man, only knows why he did what he did…
?
Got a question? Just ask! Food, heritage, sports, travel, faith, politics, pets, and more! Read what’s on the minds of our readers and send your question or comment to Andrew at Spindleless@aol.com or via mail to the Am-Pol Eagle. Publish yourself today!
Q: Thank you so much for helping me find the perfect Polish-made Christmas gift for my father with your story about the top ten stocking stuffers. I loved it! I thought about the first item mentioned on the list, a floral tie but realized he rarely wears them anymore so bought him the Polish flag instead. He’s now hanging it from his front porch and already the mailman made a nice comment! - Monika, New York
A: You’re very welcome Monika! Glad to hear!
***
Q: What is the snowiest city in Poland? - Michael Jr., New York
A: Guessing you can’t wait for the snow to hit Brooklyn, huh? The snowiest town in Poland may be a toss-up between Zakopane in the southern Tatra Mountains, and Suwałki, Poland’s king of cold, in the northeast. But who wants to find out this fact, is the question you might want to ask!
***
Q: Can I administer the K+M+B blessing myself? Our parish priest Fr. Jacek no longer makes the rounds as was done in the old days. - Joan, New York
A: Yes, Joan, by all means. Sorry for the late reply, as this was supposed to be done on the feast of the Three Kings, but better late than never. Of course, ensure that the chalk and incense are blessed, and proceed. Don’t forget to mark the year too 20+K+M+B+19.
***
Q: Is it worth it for a trip to Poland in February? I spotted a super-saver deal for $449 round trip to Warsaw and luckily can stay with a priest-friend, but not sure if they’ll be enough sunlight to tour around adequately. - Paul, New York
A: Paul, I’d recommend going for it. That is a real steal, even if you have half-days to do stuff. Surprisingly, you may find some evening things to do which would prove worthwhile. Just sitting and chatting about things, culture, economics, and cuisine may be fulfilling enough.
***
Q: Is ice fishing permitted on Findley Lake and do I need a permit? - Jim, New York
A: That was a toughie, Jim, but I have your answer. Yes, ice fishing is permitted and no permit is needed. However, after Dec 1 there is a strict ‘catch and release’ policy in effect for some species, too lengthy to list here. Hope this helps a bit.
***
Q: I found a Polish stamp and would like to find out how valuable it is. - Anna, Connecticut
A: Anna, nice find. I would suggest contacting my colleague, Basia Syzdlowski, who is a member of the Polonus Philatelic Society. She may be more suited to give you an accurate value.
***
Q: Is it a sin for a Catholic married woman to fall in love with a single man? - asker wishes anonymity
A: Thank you for your question. It would depend on the degree of love expressed. Instinctual feelings from the heart cannot, and should not, be harnessed by societal and religious rules and regulations, so it is perfectly normal and not sinful to feel attracted to someone other than a spouse. However, because we have reasoning ability, we are expected to consider, for example, a marital vow that was taken and consciously think of it. Should we avoid such encounters? No, because there are many forms of “love”, equally important, even the love of friendship. (Thanks to Fr. Matteusz Zielinski, co-author on this reply)
***
Q: What’s the difference between red barszcz and white barszcz, other than the color? - Dorothy, New York
A: Dorothy, if the soup is red, then a sour starter was used which was made with fermented beets. If the soup is white, no sour starter was used, but instead lemon juice or vinegar was used with fermented rye flour.
***
Q: Enjoyed the piece about Cuomo as our misguided politician. It should be pointed out too that he is supposedly a Catholic but is approving all of these women’s rights provisions supporting anti-Catholic values. Does this man attend Mass and receive Holy Communion? Go figure. - Donna, New York
A: Yes Donna, the epitome of a true politician.
***
Q: Thank you so much for helping me find the perfect Polish-made Christmas gift for my father with your story about the top ten stocking stuffers. I loved it! I thought about the first item mentioned on the list, a floral tie but realized he rarely wears them anymore so bought him the Polish flag instead. He’s now hanging it from his front porch and already the mailman made a nice comment! - Monika, New York
A: You’re very welcome Monika! Glad to hear!
***
Q: What is the snowiest city in Poland? - Michael Jr., New York
A: Guessing you can’t wait for the snow to hit Brooklyn, huh? The snowiest town in Poland may be a toss-up between Zakopane in the southern Tatra Mountains, and Suwałki, Poland’s king of cold, in the northeast. But who wants to find out this fact, is the question you might want to ask!
***
Q: Can I administer the K+M+B blessing myself? Our parish priest Fr. Jacek no longer makes the rounds as was done in the old days. - Joan, New York
A: Yes, Joan, by all means. Sorry for the late reply, as this was supposed to be done on the feast of the Three Kings, but better late than never. Of course, ensure that the chalk and incense are blessed, and proceed. Don’t forget to mark the year too 20+K+M+B+19.
***
Q: Is it worth it for a trip to Poland in February? I spotted a super-saver deal for $449 round trip to Warsaw and luckily can stay with a priest-friend, but not sure if they’ll be enough sunlight to tour around adequately. - Paul, New York
A: Paul, I’d recommend going for it. That is a real steal, even if you have half-days to do stuff. Surprisingly, you may find some evening things to do which would prove worthwhile. Just sitting and chatting about things, culture, economics, and cuisine may be fulfilling enough.
***
Q: Is ice fishing permitted on Findley Lake and do I need a permit? - Jim, New York
A: That was a toughie, Jim, but I have your answer. Yes, ice fishing is permitted and no permit is needed. However, after Dec 1 there is a strict ‘catch and release’ policy in effect for some species, too lengthy to list here. Hope this helps a bit.
***
Q: I found a Polish stamp and would like to find out how valuable it is. - Anna, Connecticut
A: Anna, nice find. I would suggest contacting my colleague, Basia Syzdlowski, who is a member of the Polonus Philatelic Society. She may be more suited to give you an accurate value.
***
Q: Is it a sin for a Catholic married woman to fall in love with a single man? - asker wishes anonymity
A: Thank you for your question. It would depend on the degree of love expressed. Instinctual feelings from the heart cannot, and should not, be harnessed by societal and religious rules and regulations, so it is perfectly normal and not sinful to feel attracted to someone other than a spouse. However, because we have reasoning ability, we are expected to consider, for example, a marital vow that was taken and consciously think of it. Should we avoid such encounters? No, because there are many forms of “love”, equally important, even the love of friendship. (Thanks to Fr. Matteusz Zielinski, co-author on this reply)
***
Q: What’s the difference between red barszcz and white barszcz, other than the color? - Dorothy, New York
A: Dorothy, if the soup is red, then a sour starter was used which was made with fermented beets. If the soup is white, no sour starter was used, but instead lemon juice or vinegar was used with fermented rye flour.
***
Q: Enjoyed the piece about Cuomo as our misguided politician. It should be pointed out too that he is supposedly a Catholic but is approving all of these women’s rights provisions supporting anti-Catholic values. Does this man attend Mass and receive Holy Communion? Go figure. - Donna, New York
A: Yes Donna, the epitome of a true politician.
***
Bethlehem or Bust
It was 21 years ago today, Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play… Borrowing that famous line from a Beatles song, I was reminded that exactly 21 years ago, in 1997, I made my first pilgrimage to the Holy Land, à la foot. With Bethlehem and the exact spot where Jesus was born being my ultimate destination, I reflected on my trip, and on the blisters I got during the process. Join me as we hike the Holy Land just in time for Christmas…
It was a crisp, cool morning and as I finished the final half of a freshly baked Jewish bagel, I loaded up a backpack and headed out on my journey. Almost simultaneously as the sun rose, the land became swarmed with tourists, merchants, and local folks ready to begin the new day. My starting point was the Sea of Galilee.
Capernaum
Walking northward along water’s edge, I reached the town of Capernaum. This small town is arguably the second biggest magnet of attraction for Christians in the Holy Land. It was here where Jesus based his ministry, turning Peter the fisherman into a fisher of “men.” Among its ancient ruins was Peter’s house, where Jesus was believed to have resided, and a synagogue where he taught.
Tabgha
A stone’s throw away was the miraculous town of Tabgha. As I entered the Church of the Primacy, I was suddenly transformed back into the first century, seeing an early Christian floor mosaic depicting Christ’s famous miracle where thousands were fed from a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish.
Mount of Beatitudes
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the land.” Among the most famous of Christ’s quotes are called the Beatitudes, and it was atop this hill that he spoke them. How could Jesus’ voice be heard by the multitudes of people scattered all the way down the hillside? I tried an experiment of my own by yapping aloud a couple of words, and much to my surprise, the reverberating echo traveled far, really far.
Nazareth
Just a few miles hike westward was the huge town of Nazareth. At its center lies the Basilica of the Annunciation which was built directly over the original home of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus. Having to stoop over to go inside the rock dwelling, my eyes beheld ancient graffiti. A first-century Christian had carved the words “Hail Mary”, in Greek, into the wall of the house. Wow!
Megiddo
As I turned my trek southeastward, I arrived at the rocky outcrop known as Megiddo. The Bible tells us this spot will host the final battle between good and evil, hence the word “Armageddon.” Historically, this area has seen the most warfare over the centuries. Images of the Bible’s apocalyptic Book of Revelation came to mind.
Jerusalem
With blisters now on my feet, I finally arrived in Jerusalem. Dodging caravans of camels and cars, I walked through the maze of narrow, cobble-stoned streets. Famous landmarks like Judaism’s Western Wall, Islam’s Dome of the Rock, and Christianity’s Tomb of Christ drew my attention. I could easily spend a year here just walking around and sightseeing. After an early morning “Way of the Cross” walk which followed the same route Jesus took to the cross, I headed out across a section of the Judean desert, not realizing until later that I narrowly avoided crossing into Israeli Army restricted space.
Here caravans of Bedouin tribes roamed the area as I felt like Lawrence of Arabia being the only fair-haired boy around. Armed with a red and white Keffiyeh, or head scarf, in donning my Polish colors, I was pretty sure that fact was the furthest thing from any onlookers’ mind as those colors were also Palestinian fashion.
Dead Sea
Arriving at the shore of the Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth, with nobody in sight I stripped to my underwear, closed my eyes and jumped in. The salt content was so great that I floated on the water. After drying off, I merely walked across the street and climbed the cliff to the great ancient settlement known as Masada, where Jewish zealots battled the Roman army, ending in all 960 Jewish inhabitants deciding to die before the Romans could reach them.
Bethlehem
Tightening my boots for the final trek, or “pilgrim’s walk” to Bethlehem, which was a dirt trail used by thousands of Christians over the centuries, it was Bethlehem or bust. The walk was enduring, going up hills and through sheep meadows. At its conclusion, I arrived at the Church of the Nativity.
And there it was, the exact spot where Jesus was born. Interestingly, the traditional nativity scene of a wooden stable is correct, however, the stable was situated in a cave. The atmosphere was one of ultra tranquility as pilgrims kneeled in prayer and billows of frankincense and myrrh filled the air. Ah, mission accomplished…
Departing, I was reminded of the region’s modern-day dilemma, as just over my shoulder I heard a skirmish between kids throwing rocks and soldiers firing rubber bullets. After taxiing half way to the airport, I set out on foot again and arrived for my flight back. My trek was complete, though my pants were torn and my boots were worn. I was completely exhausted, but I was still smiling...
A Tale of Two Czestochowas
Charles Dickens would never have dreamed of such a tale. But borrowing the title of his famous novel, with a bit of editing, I recently had a chance to focus in on the “two Czestochowas,” the Jasna Gora Monastery in the city of Czestochowa, Poland, and the National Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa in Doylestown, PA.
Closer to home of course comes the more frequently visited Shrine, and what better time to showcase the place than now, on the eve of the 53rd annual Polish-American festival. Anyone who’s ever experienced the sights and sounds of this late summer event would attest to the fact that no better place around could have been picked to build the Shrine.
4,300 miles away though sits the Jasna Gora Monastery in Poland and the ultimate “mecca” for pilgrimaging Poles and visitors from afar. Housing the miraculous image of Our Lady, the monastery was founded in 1382 by Pauline monks who came from Hungary at the invitation of Władysław, Duke of Opole. And who would have thought what the future would hold?
Back westward and a half dozen centuries ahead, perched atop a giant hill overlooking Bucks County, PA, the inspiring story of the “American Czestochowa” began to unfold in 1951 when Father Michael Zembrzuski, a Pauline priest from Poland, arrived on American soil. Fr. Michael’s dream was to build a shrine which would become both a religious and cultural center. With assistance and support from several priests and benefactors, Fr. Michael was able to purchase a 40-acre property, which included a farmhouse and a barn. In a short time, the farmhouse was renovated into a monastery and the barn was turned into a chapel, where the image of Our Lady of Czestochowa was placed.
News of the Shrine spread quickly throughout the community, with increasing numbers of pilgrims coming to visit. Soon, the barn chapel proved too small for the needs of both the founders and the pilgrims. All eyes turned towards the nearby hilltop, and the idea to build a larger Shrine was conceived.
In August of 1964, a groundbreaking ceremony led by Archbishop John Krol took place which marked the laying of the Shrine’s foundation. With the symbolic turning of the first shovel of dirt by Archbishop Krol, the entire hill was soon transformed into a great construction site. In less than two years, a formidable Shrine and monastery were built. On Sunday, Oct. 16, 1966, before a multitude of pilgrims, in the presence of President Lyndon Johnson and state officials, Archbishop John Krol solemnly dedicated the new shrine to the honor of Our Lady of Czestochowa.
But thank goodness for about 70 hearty monks back in 1655. Had it not been due to their Rambo-style fighting ability, with the help of some outside volunteers, the story you are now reading would not be. Because of these determined monks, during the war with Sweden, Jasna Gora was the only stronghold in Poland that the invaders failed to capture. Had the enemy succeeded, the American Czestochowa Shrine would probably never have come into existence centuries later.
In the process of the Shrine’s construction, the Pauline Fathers faced many financial difficulties. As the work progressed, the costs also increased much more than had been originally estimated. It led to a financial crisis. However, under the protection of our Blessed Mother and through the generosity of friends and benefactors who came to the shrine’s assistance, the shrine celebrated its 25th anniversary in June of 1980 with the debt paid off!
The shrine is also a spiritual center for many organizations, like the Polish Scouts and Brownies, who throughout the year visit and take part in many of the solemn ceremonies and Eucharistic celebrations. In fact, American Czestochowa has grown to become a favorite place of pilgrimage for thousands of pilgrims from all parts of the world.
The Feast of Our Lady of Czestochowa, observed on Aug. 26, is the largest celebration for the shrine. Each year in August, the shrine welcomes groups of walking pilgrims, following the Polish tradition of the foot pilgrimage, who come to give thanks to Our Lady. The tradition of the foot pilgrimage on American soil began in 1987 when a group of 17 pilgrims departed from Great Meadows, NJ and arrived at the shrine three days later. The number of pilgrims who now participate in the yearly walking pilgrimage has exceeded 3,000.
One small step for them, one giant leap for those in Poland however. At Jasna Gora, the average distance for a pilgrim’s group to walk is about 217 miles, made in 11 days.
Go ahead, take your pick of the two Czestochowas!
Plate Armor and Poppy Fields
Next time you find yourself driving through the countryside of Poland, amidst the meadows and rolling farmland in between villages, pull over to the side of the road, exit the vehicle, and hear the birds chirp. It wasn’t that way about 700 years ago however.
Most people don’t realize that a lot of these quaint locations, though picture-postcard perfect, once hosted some of the bloodiest battles in history. God knows how many axes, daggers, and bits of plate armor are buried beneath the flowering white and red poppies dotting the countryside, not to mention the gallons of dried blood residue.
You may have heard a statistic or two on casualties and perhaps have seen a movie all about that era long ago, but did you ever wonder exactly what soldiers back then used in place of guns? Ironically, the next time someone holds open a door for you or offers you an umbrella, you may owe a word of thanks to those knights of olde. Chivalry, you see, evolved from these warriors donned in plate armor and defending all that they held to be sacred and dear, doing so with sharp carbon-steel weaponry.
The basic weapons of the typical Polish knight were the sword and the spear, a heavy, thrusting weapon. Besides these, a typical arsenal included a number of small armaments from daggers to battle axes, maces, horseman’s picks, and many others. The Polish sword was no different than swords used in the West – it was straight, with a long blade having an almond-shaped pommel and a bar crossguard. The spear, in Poland referred to as a “wood”, was lightweight and had a spearhead of lancet-like or leaf-like shape, but there were also heavier, armor-piercing spearheads.
Defensive armament, on the other hand, first included the gambeson, which was a padded jacket, then developed into the brigandine, which was part steel, followed by the hauberk, which was that familiar-looking shirt made out of chain mail. Breastplates came next, and finally the full-figured panoply, which was an entire suit of armor.
By the end of the 16th century, a Polish knight gained his perfect form, protecting the whole of his body, and sometimes his horse. There were some differences between the rich knights of Małopolska, Wielkopolska, Śląsk and those of Mazowsze, who, because they faced enemies from the East, like Old Prussians, Lithuanians, and Tatars, partially adopted their fighting manners, and lighter armament as well. Even their horses were smaller and lighter.
There were many different types of throwing weapons too. The sling went out of use, and the composite bow did not appear until the arrival of the Mongols in the 13th century. Before their invasion, the Poles used straight, longbows. The crossbow reached Poland relatively early in the 12th century. Javelins and throwing axes were also in use. During sieges, both defenders and attackers commonly used a variety of heavy hurling machines like catapults and trebuchets, and from the end of the 14th century bombards, arquebuses, and finally cannons.
With increasing tension and fighting along the eastern border, Poles adopted many eastern-style war customs and weapons. This is why the sword was so easily and commonly replaced in the 16th century with the szabla, which is a backsword with a curved blade.
But perhaps the most visible armor transformation in Polish Medieval times was that of the helmet, which changed from a conical shape into a great helm around the 12th century and later into the bascinet, which had a pointed top and mouth piece to deflect blows.
Which brings us to the men who wielded and wore these things. Wealthy knights of Wielkopolska and Śląsk did not differ much from their western brethren. Novelties in design were accepted quickly. At tournaments in the west, the Polish knight Zawisza Czarny z Garbowa, or “Zawisza the Black” gained eternal fame and became known for his bravery, chivalry, and his black armor. However, until the battle of Grunwald in 1410, most Polish knights were less armored than their competitors, due to the fact that many of them were relatively poor. In the 15th century however, Polish knights became much wealthier as exports of grains and forest goods grew rapidly during this period which became a source of wealth.
Today, unfortunately all that remains of this grand and glorious age of Polish arms and armor are a few museum collections, a couple of collectibles, some text books on the topic, and several acres of poppy-filled fields.
Right-side Up Ruling
Let’s start things off from the top down, and begin with the Supreme Court. This past month's pick was nothing short of outstanding. In fact, how could such a pick have been made, given the near-identical résumés of all of the contenders? Not a bad predicament to be in if you asked me. Fortunately I was in Washington, D.C. when the president made the announcement, dodging supporters and protesters, but treasuring the chance to be close to the source of a potentially historic day.
But cutting to the chase, who’s kidding who here as far as Roe v. Wade not being the main reason for the selection? I heard a few political gurus, educated law professors, and “learned” men air their predictions that Donald Trump considered the overall long-term judiciary effect of his pick, rather than only be concerned with overturning the abortion precedent. Are they crazy? Maybe they haven’t understood who Donald Trump really is yet.
It’s a no-brainer. Of course Donald Trump, the historic showman and publicity-seeker, is eyeballing the reversal of Roe V. Wade. This will be his legacy. And with nobody in office being more of a pro-life person than Mike Pence, you can bet the chances that Roe v. Wade is overturned quickly to be rather high. For Catholics and defenders of life’s sanctity, it’s about time a new right-side up ruling was made, isn’t it?
Interestingly, if Roe v. Wade is overturned, it may not be due to the religious convictions of the Court’s appointees. Rather, constitutional conservatives of the Court will argue that our constitution bestows rights onto all individuals, among them, the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as outlined in our Declaration. The big question being, what defines an individual? Should an embryo or fetus in the womb be considered an “individual”, or only after it is born?
Hmm, is there a difference? Not really, if you think about it. A one-month old baby, like everyone else, is considered an individual because it is living and growing. Yet, so is an embryo and a fetus. Both the newborn baby and the unborn embryo or fetus are equally dependent on the mother as well.
Indeed, our legal minds may finally conclude that there seems to be no difference between a newborn baby and an embryo or a fetus, so the question for consideration will arise: Why is it illegal to kill a newborn baby, but legal to kill an embryo or a fetus?
The Dean Jaeger Effect
After reading a couple of weeks ago about the Prabucki family, followed by a few memoirs out of my uncle Stan’s war diary, and finally catching the opening sequence of the film Twelve O’clock High starring Gregory Peck, I began to reminisce about a long ago trip my father and I made to Omaha Beach in France, site of the historic D-Day invasion.
Stealing the screenplay of that 1949 film, just as the actor Dean Jaeger, aboard a bicycle, arrives at the allied airfield where he once served, then begins to recall his day-to-day life in a B-17 bombardier group upon which the film is based, I more or less did the same on the long stretch of this French beach.
Although having no clue, compared to Jaeger, as to the real-life events of June 6, 1944, I envisioned what it must have been like for more than 160,000 allied troops to disembark from amphibious units to a reception of bullets, grenades, land mines, and anti-tank guns.
Omaha Beach was the most fortified of the stretch, having natural cliffs as deterrents and deep caverns where bunkers were built to house the big guns. I climbed into one of those bunkers.
My first impression, despite the odor of its modern-day unfortunate function as a pee-hole for passers-by, was as if I was wearing a giant suit of armor. The claustrophobic feeling of encasement with only a few cutout slots in the concrete for viewing summoned up the notion that whoever was in here manning the guns was pretty safe as long as they had food and water.
However, these fortified bunkers did indeed have a fault. There was little to no peripheral vision, as well as above, so allied troops were able to circumvent a direct approach and attack the slotted openings with grenades. More who tried this than didn’t, died however.
Out of the bunker and back onto the beach, the tide quickly reminded me that, of the approximately 10,000 allied troops who perished on this day, a lot of them never made it to the shore. Skeletons of assault crafts lay frozen in time along the coast as the tide comes and goes. It’s an interesting juxtaposition; here you see the constant flow of water, the symbol of life, going in and out and always in motion, while the remains of these watercraft sit still and beckon a long-ago day of destruction and death.
As a side note, what I find interesting is that regardless of what historical account you may read, nobody seems to give equal sentiment to statistics of enemy casualties. Weren’t enemy soldiers, in this case Germans, people too, doing their duty? It’s almost as if Western society regards Japanese and German axis troops as something other than regular, living, breathing, emotional, heartfelt people.
Rather, we’d be correct to realize that enemy soldiers had loving families too, were probably just as conscientious as us, and kicked a soccer ball to their children just as our guys who were fathers probably had a baseball catch with their kids. This may be the real tragedy of war, when mankind continues to polarize groups of people as alien to them and deserving of death.
Of course, it should be understood that D-Day was necessary to fight Hitler, but we’d be wise to remember that soldiers are people regardless of which side they’re on. Hmm, thoughts of Harry Truman and Hiroshima come to mind, and his horrendous decision to annihilate roughly 146,000 men, women, and children with after effects continuing to the present day. I’m wondering if he considered this.
What better way to end the day than to visit a nearby cemetery. Remembering that Poland was the only country to fight in the European theater from the very first day to the very last day of the Second World War, my father and I, during our journey to France to visit my sister who lives there, went looking for a buddy of his by the name of Matthew Skowronski.
From what I can recall in the passenger seat of our rental car, myself being 16 years old at the time, Mattie Skowronski or “Skronski” as I interpreted it, was on his mind constantly as the highlight of the trip.
He was determined to find the grave of this Private with the 119th infantry regiment, a native Staten Islander who grew up in the same New Brighton neighborhood as my father, but unfortunately saw live action in the war as opposed to my dad who was in basic training. And he found it.
Skowronski, a Purple Heart recipient, is buried in the Normandy American cemetery under a simple white cross, one of 9,386 headstones there. Finding his grave, with the help of the cemetery staff, was the culmination of my father’s long desire to see the resting place of his friend.
And getting back to Jaeger on his bicycle, perhaps a fitting finale in mentioning that Skowronski, along with 27 other New Brighton men who lost their lives in World War II, is memorialized in a G.I. Joe statue erected directly along my own bicycling route.
Going Forwards to Go Back
“So goodbye yellow brick road, where the dogs of society howl…” As Elton John sang, so sing many future contestants for the coveted Miss America crown after last month's colossal decision by its governing body to ban the traditional swimsuit and evening gown segments. Hmm, curiously, is this to say that sporting a sexy swimsuit is now somehow contrary to what a woman’s ideals should aspire to be? And by wearing an attractive evening gown, does this somehow conjure up the wrong image of how a woman should look?
Perhaps the real issue to resolve here may not be in the banning of a particular item, but maybe we should be asking ourselves why we now, as opposed to 50 years ago, convey a particular thought to, in this case, a slim-fit swimsuit or a sexy evening gown, causing them to be banned? Is mankind evolving forward intellectually, or has society de-evolved eons backwards into a sensually-motivated one? Willy Wonka may have been right in stating, “You can’t get out backwards, you have to go forwards to go back.”
A Holy Land Chronicle
As I looked out across the land with the sun rising just over the majestic Judaean Desert, a crispness in the air that would soon give way to scorching heat, and the everlasting reality that this indeed was sacred ground, I understood exactly where I was. Beginning in 1997, I made what was to be my first pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Arriving at the small yet significant Ben Gurion Airport near Tel Aviv, one becomes encompassed by the sheer presence of standing inside history. In the distance lie the towering hills of Judaea, one of several regions in Israel, and the destination for the day. At Ben Gurion, one is confronted by polite yet diligently straightforward security personnel, a testament to the region's social volatility. Continuing the journey by group taxi, as a cool wind blows in from the hills, one begins to sense what it was like 2000 years ago, as men traveled by foot from one town to the next, trading and conducting business in their minute social spheres. To imagine a land not ravaged by time, but preserved in its entirety for all to see and feel. The senses are put to the test here. It is only during the process of becoming completely absorbed in this that one comes to know essentially what this place means. As the visitor empathizes, he or she realizes. Higher and higher we ascend, and as it is written, we will go up to Jerusalem. The Holy City, as it is referred to, stands as the single most spiritually important place worldwide for many. At its heart is the Old City, dating back thousands of years, virtually untouched by modern man. One feels the drama played out on its streets ages ago, one sees the beige colored stones and perhaps a footprint made by a Roman centurion. At last the core of life itself.
Standing on a terrace in the Jewish Quarter, as neighborhood cats hurriedly made their rounds, one is privileged to set sight on the Western Wall, the most sacred place in all of Judaism. The structure is part of a section of wall that once was the Temple, which housed the Holy of Holies containing the stone tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written by God and handed to Moses. As one approaches this sacred place in prayerful respect, one is overwhelmed with the sense of meaning. Continuing through the narrow and quietly dignified Kotel tunnels, which reveal a further section of original Temple wall, one feels the cohesiveness of this faith as a single candle illuminates against the rock. Emerging in the Muslim Quarter, the deliciously delightful aroma of falafel saturates the air. Through its streets are numerous merchants who will politely offer tea and a conversation. One can see the depth of the Arabic culture here. To quench a thirst, fresh carrot juice can do the trick. Up ahead lies the entrance to the same site which once housed the Jewish Temple and is now the home of the Dome of the Rock. Here, the Muslim faith teaches that Mohammed ascended to Heaven, and a large rock displayed within is said to be the actual site. Exiting the area, one finds a slightly uphill climb on the via Dolorosa, or street of sorrows. Holding back tears, many recall Christ's Way of the Cross. Sounding bells from afar remind oneself of the significance and magnitude of Christianity's foundation. As we make our way inside the tiny chapels of Condemnation and Flagellation, the reminder that this indeed was the spot where it all began. Just underfoot was the Lithostrotos, or pavement where one can literally play games, those carved in the rock by Roman centurions and still existing. Continuing our Stations of the Cross, we stop and pause inside the little chapel marking the seventh station, where Jesus fell to His knees for the second time bearing the heavy wooden weight of two pieces of lumbar known as the cross. One can still touch the base of the original column that served as an exit gate to the city. Originally outside the city walls, and just up ahead now is Calvary, the sacred site of Jesus' death. Housed in the crusader built Church of the Holy Sepulchre, this site is clearly emotional and thought provoking for every individual that comes. There is but one thing to do here. Think. Many find answers to exactly why He died and what He accomplished for Man, giving His life as a ransom. There are no rushed crowds here, only the solemn. One has the opportunity to actually touch and feel the stone upon which Christ died, in the midst of candlelight and soft hymns. Descending the steps from Golgotha, or Skull Place, one beholds the awesome magnitude of the grand Basilica, simply adorned. At its center is the Tomb of Christ. Visitors enter three at a time, first passing a small fragment of stone on display which was a piece of the grand circular stone closing the Tomb. Once inside the Tomb, one is awestruck. Here on the stone slab the body of Christ actually rested. Initially, no words or thoughts fall upon the visitor. Rather, the experience creates almost a transcendence of soul, where one is experiencing the Mystery of the Resurrection. Upon further study of the Basilica, one learns that it is indeed a multi-Christian Church. There are no less than five divisions of Christianity occupying the Basilica. The Roman Catholics share this sacred site with the Greek Orthodox, Coptic, Ethiopian Orthodox, and Armenian Orthodox faiths. This is a testament to the stronghold of the Christian faith. For the Catholics, the Franciscan presence has been significant. Their province, known as the Franciscans of the Holy Land, has tended to the holy sites across the land for centuries. A short walk from the Basilica is St. Saviour's Monastery, the large complex serving as their base. Many who experience their humbleness wish only to have the heart of a Franciscan. Exiting the city via the Zion Gate, one encounters the Coenaculum, or Upper Room of the Last Supper. Just to imagine what it was like some 2000 years ago, as the apostles celebrated this most significant meal. Groups from many countries come and go singing hymns, praying, and reading scripture.
Looking across the land in the near distance lies the Mount of Olives. As one climbs the rather steep hill to the summit, a look behind reveals the most breathtaking view of Jerusalem. Here, with the clouds a touch away, with the wind vigorously blowing through, one sees what Christ saw, and pretty much exactly too. Little topographic change has made East Jerusalem virtually untouched since Jesus made His way down on Palm Sunday. One could easily spend hours here in contemplative awe. At the base of the Mount of Olives is the Garden of Gethsemane, where the same olive trees that grew at the time of Christ now grow still. At its low point, the Kidron Valley dissects the Mount from the Old City. On the left, the Tombs of Absalom and Zechariah. One can't help realize that what they are seeing now was seen precisely by ancient others. Nothing has changed. If only to have a shovel to dig, what wonders just beneath our feet. The grand scale of the Old City Wall is magnified from this point, its view almost creating a ladder-into-the-heavens effect. We reach the Gihon tunnel. Here, a channel for water was cut through the rock dating back to the origins of the city itself. A forty minute candlelight traverse of the tunnel emerges at the Pool of Siloam.
A ticket to ride. Aboard the extremely efficient Israeli bus service, we made our way to the lowest point on the face of the Earth, the Dead Sea. Here, there is ten percent more oxygen in the air. Passing the massive mountains flanking the west coast of the sea, we see the remains of the ancient Qumran community, where the famous Dead Sea scrolls were discovered. A stop at the Bin Gedi nature reserve reveals a splendid excursion into pristine biblical wilderness, complete with waterfalls and caves. After, a splash into the Dead Sea itself, though carefully cautioning the splash. The salt content is eight times that of the saltiest ocean. One cannot sink, but rather floats in its therapeutic waters. Cakes of salt emerge as buoys. The sea is a collection of water which flows from the Sea of Galilee in the north through the Jordan River. Further down the coastal road, a certain metanoia, or change of heart, occurs. The visitor becomes entranced by physically being at the lowest spot on the planet, yet the sheer magnitude of the extremely dry and rugged mountains just a stone's throw away contradict this. To imagine its inhabitants in the year 33 A.D. certainly plays on the mind. Then, one sees Masada. This is truly a grand site. Perched atop a mountain, this was once a stronghold community of Zealots, those set on overthrowing the dominant Roman forces. The mighty scale of this site clearly puts into perspective the turbulent situation at the time. One can look out across the Dead Sea and feel life as it was then. Journeying back, the once tiny little village so significant in the Christian heart appears. We have reached Bethlehem. In this predominantly Palestinian village, the high bells of the Church of the Nativity stand clear for all to see. Here, in the Grotto, Jesus was born. Interestingly enough, the site is in actuality a cave. And a very sacred one indeed. The exact spot of His birth is marked with a fourteen point star. One seems to abandon all personal concerns and worries here. The overwhelming saturation of solitude and meaning to life enter into each who observe. Continuing our journey, we depart along Hebron Road, and for the hearty of heart, a walk from Bethlehem back to Jerusalem is a rugged 11/2 hours. One experience was not to be forgotten. On foot, we proceeded to cross over a section of barbed wire purposely put in the road as a deterrent to troublemakers in the area. As we carefully made our way to the army checkpoint at the crossroads up ahead, a commotion began a few hundred feet away. It seemed the typical routine for the day as young Palestinian youths clashed with Israeli soldiers. Rocks and rubber bullets made the headlines. . . again.
North by northeast. Traveling once again aboard bus, we headed into the fertile Jordan River region. Our first stop, the dramatic Jabal al Qarantal, or site of Christ's temptation. Situated on the side of a massive cliff is the Greek Orthodox Monastery of the Temptation. One ascends by foot to see the actual place of Jesus' temptation after being baptized in the nearby Jordan. For those having the slightest fear of heights, this is not the place to be. Rather, an educational stroll through the archeological site of Jericho at the cliffs base reveals the original city as seen by Joshua. Little by little and mile by mile, as one proceeds north paralleling the Jordan river, baked beige becomes gorgeous green. The landscape changes dramatically. We are now in Israel's agricultural region, and our destination for the day: the Mount of Beatitudes. A stop in Tiberias is quite inviting. Fishermen casting nets into the Sea of Galilee frame many a tourist's photo film. Aboard an excursion boat out to sea is our stepping stone to Capernaum, the base town of Jesus' ministry. Here at this archeologically excavated ancient site, the houses of Peter and of Matthew have been clearly established. Interestingly, Matthew's house was strategically located at the entrance of town, as he held a tax collecting position prior to his apostolic calling, thus was a constant presence to newcomers. Just down the road is Tabgha, the site of Christ's multiplication of loaves and fishes. One can sense its significance, standing on the cobbled rock shores with the cool sea breeze refreshingly stirring. What it must have been like in days long gone. If we could only go back and relive these miraculous moments. These are thoughts never failing to fall upon the visitor. And this is the most enriching aspect of the Holy Land experience. The individual's introspective reward. No corner of the Earth is excepted, no stone remains unturned. No matter where one is or what one does, the significance of this special spot on the planet has a permanent place in our hearts and in our minds, just as it once was, ages ago.
Climbing step by step. The beautifully adorned Church of the Beatitudes, atop the Mount, looks out across this land called Holy. As the mist rises above the Galilee, we see what thousands saw on that day when Jesus gave the Sermon on the Mount. And what an appropriate place to give it. Clear views, refreshing air, and peacefulness, all experienced from a beautiful flower garden sitting serenely on the side of the hill. After a dinner of freshly caught St. Peter's fish, we made our way westward. A tour through the Church of the Miracle at Cana reveals to the visitor excavated wine jars dating back thousands of years. This was the site of Jesus' first miracle, the changing of water into wine. Continuing along the roadway, the grand town of Nazareth emerges. Quite large, Nazareth has grown out from its original humble self over the many thousands of years since its origin. At its center is the Basilica of the Annunciation, the site of the Virgin Mary's acceptance of God's Will to bring His Son into the world. One actually sees the original house of the Holy family, still standing. Carved into its rock wall is an ancient form of graffiti, though the kind that would not want to be erased. In Greek, it reads Hail Mary. As we turn south, we again experience the topographical metamorphosis. Vast stretches of open plain give way to a ripple of hills here and there. To our right, the small yet highly significant site called Megiddo, often referred to as Armageddon. Here, it is written in the Book of Revelation, the final battle between good and evil will take place. Further down the road, we glance to see an archeological excavation, a dig as it is called, underway. The ancient city of Ai is being uncovered.
The journey home. Our Holy Land experience has left us in awe. What we possess now far exceeded any of our expectations. One comes to this land with the intention of seeing its sacred places. Little does the visitor know that upon trip's end, he or she becomes part of the Holy Land. It is not a place that turns stagnant in our minds soon after. It is not a vacation, in the traditional sense. Rather, the Holy Land experience is something that enlightens one's mind. It provides a sense of meaning and truth to life for all who seek. I visited this Land again in 1998 and 1999, and will be returning once again in the months to come. I'll be back...
Scary Spirituals
John Paul II, lesson learned? No. I found myself thinking precisely that after reading last Sunday’s church bulletin from a nearby parish. In it, the pastor very definitively outlined a number of “evil-doers”, such as all astrologers and all clairvoyants. Hmm, I guess Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th century mystic revered by the Church, is an exception? And sincere, humble Edgar Cayce, I guess he was a fraud?
Rather, how about definitively stating that religion in itself is a mystery, therefore all the cards are on the table, including those of psychics, mystics, and clairvoyants? Perhaps the biggest problem in a pastor’s approach to making definitive statements of faith, either in writing or from the pulpit, is that by doing so, all other ideas about the afterlife, heaven, good and evil, and how to attain salvation are thrown out the window. What results from this? A collection of global stagnated theologies under the names of Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, and a thousand others, all hell-bent on believing their faith is the one and only true religion. Isn’t this ridiculous?
Scary too, considering that, after politics, religion is the second biggest cause of war in our world. How ironic over a subject which nobody definitively knows the answer to and which remains tangibly unproven. Definitive pulpit preachers, such as the pastor above, may not want to forget about the insult they pay to all those in the religious community who have dedicated their entire lives by taking vows on the sole basis of faith, not definitive fact. Our beloved Saint John Paul II knew this all too well, bringing together leaders of different faiths with the understanding that, hey, we’re all in the same lifeboat.
Life and Death
My contemplative friend and I occasionally delve into peculiar thought topics and our most recent attempt doesn’t disappoint. Armed with a shovel, what if you could somehow visit the graves of people who defined our world’s quintessential life-livers? Let’s pick a few. How about Marilyn Monroe, Bob Hope, Veronica Lake, and Gene Kelly? Digging and digging, you finally reach their coffins, clear the remaining dirt off the top, and lift the lids.
OMG, as that shorthand expression goes. What’s inside but…bones. That’s all that’s left. Perhaps some fragments of clothing, a few strands of hair, and some jewelry. Hard to fathom, isn’t it, that these icons of life are now completely existing in an opposite perspective. Spirituality aside, the point being that our culture seems to be ignorant of this fact, otherwise, if truly realized, life on earth would take on much more deeper humanistic value. Yet an even sadder fact is factoring in the spirituality component, which most people give only cursory importance to. Apparently it’s not enough to physically see Gene Kelly’s bones nor enough to spiritually learn about God for people to approach their own life’s meaning.
Perhaps the next time we see the radiant 1940's silver screen star Veronica Lake with her trademark blonde hair covered one-eyed face, we’ll be reminded of life’s value, and by doing so, what death can really mean.
The 7 Takeaways
Are you ready? Folks everywhere had ashes placed on their foreheads as the Lenten season kicked in with Ash Wednesday. Unfortunately many of us are on auto-pilot, almost robotically attending the service but not quite fully grasping what the season is really all about.
Says Fr. Angelo Ison, OFM of St. Saviour’s Monastery in Jerusalem, “Many people forget that Lent is a process, not a few days like Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, and Holy Thursday. It’s a marathon really.” Fr. Ison, a good friend of mine, helped fine-tune the following seven soul-saving takeaways of the season which we should all be tuning in to.
1. Sell your Ashes. Huh? Need we be reminded that we are dust, and unto dust we shall return? Yes, we do need to be reminded! How often do we get caught up in the “www”, or world’s wacky web, losing perspective of who we really are? Ashes will physically brand us with a burnt, black forehead sign as a wake-up call in reminding us not to forget that our skin and bones don’t last, as pointed out in the above story. The takeaway: sell your ashes to the Lord and buy stock in your soul, it lasts longer than your body.
2. Go to Confession. Unfortunately recipients of the Sacrament of Reconciliation are on the decline. Mysteriously however, long confessional lines seem to appear between Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday in too many 11th-hour efforts at redemption. But why wait until Good Friday to make your annual pilgrimage? Go now! What better way to begin the Lenten season than with a clean slate, upon which all the sanctity of the season can be inscribed. The takeaway: gee, it’s a no-brainer, isn’t it?
3. Visit the Stations. Many Catholic churches conduct the Way of the Cross every Friday night during Lent, culminating on Good Friday. Here the priest recalls each of Christ’s 14 stops during the last hours of his life. You’ll relive what it was like for Christ to get condemned, scourged, and ultimately crucified. The takeaway: the Easter bunny is cute, but this is what the season is really all about. Take your kids.
4. Gaze at a Crucifix. That’s right, get a good eyeball session in. Did you ever think about what it was like to be crucified? We’ve all stepped on splinters and cut our hands, but haven’t quite experienced an incision directly on a nerve and without anesthesia. Ever have major surgery? That’s serious, but you’re asleep when it happens. Imagine being awake and without pain killers when you’re cut? Now you know how Christ felt. The takeaway: it was once said that a two-minute gaze upon a crucifix can turn a sinner into a saint.
5. Pass on the Popcorn. We’ll have to remember that while sitting on the sofa and watching the Olympics. It’s hard isn’t it? The issue here is not any particular item that tastes yummy or that we have grown habituated to. Rather, it is our tendency to become dependent on something, devoting a great deal of attention to it. The takeaway: fasting is not only about food refrain, it is about detaching ourselves from any such overly dependent time-and-attention getter. Time and attention which could be given to God.
6. Almsgiving. Who’s got money to spare these days? Economically speaking, these are truly hard times. Harder still for the beggar on the street asking you for a dime. We pinch a penny walking up and down the supermarket aisles trying to break even. But the real question, our takeaway here is, we should ask ourselves during Lent: how am I sacrificing if I am breaking even?
7. Prayer. Even though all of the six points mentioned above are actually forms of prayer in one way or another, the real essence of Lent begins in your heart, mind, and soul. Sure you can do good deeds, go to church, etc., etc., but how often do you pray quietly and contemplatively? Saint John Paul II used to pray for hours per day. The takeaway: can we be so bold as to attempt at least 10 minutes of daily prayer?
Fortunately for many, these seven takeaways are a rehearsal for what we have been habitually doing every Lent. I find this hallmark provides an inspiration to others who are not so devout. Kneeling that extra minute or vocalizing your response a little louder at Mass just so someone else might notice is a great way to influence. Who knows, perhaps because of your faith effort, somebody somewhere will take notice of your seven takeaways of the season and luckily save themselves.
Ooh la la
Ooh la la. What else can we say? Being a longtime supporter of PETA, or People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, I recently received their latest periodical highlighting efforts made to expose the cruelties inflicted upon helpless animals by circuses, as well as by experimental laboratories funded by several major brand name cosmetic companies.
Of course, what immediately draws the reader into the story is the very revealing photo of Polish model Joanna Krupa in cat-like colors. The 38-year-old Warsaw native, in addition to starring on the hit show Real Housewives of Miami, is an avid animal rights activist who has obviously made an extreme effort, along with PETA, to convey a message.
Bad taste? Perhaps not, considering that the liquid inside a typical bottle of perfume or aftershave sitting on top of your bedroom dresser has most likely been poured into a rabbit’s eye to test the degree of damage done before being allowed to sell. Did you know too that some chocolate makers, as deliciously innocent as they may seem, have tested the effects of chocolate on blood vessels in small animals, cutting open the legs of these creatures, taking notes, and then killing them? Some circus animals as well fall victim to slave-driving circus masters whose only concern is to earn a living at the animals’ expense.
Before passing judgment on the sexiness of the photo, perhaps we should consider our priorities. To what extent should we go, as Krupa did, to expose these cruelties? Maybe, just maybe, it means taking alluring and seductive measures, perhaps testing our morality, to finally cease a greater evil.
Your Son's Pet Lizard
I continue to receive occasional comments about a particular question in my earlier interview of Dr. Nikodem Poplawski, that being “Is there a God?” It increasingly becomes clear that we as a global people continue to avoid the question so as to sleep well at night and not rock the boat of establishment. But, are we being honest to ourselves, or do we prefer to leave this question, as well as those below, to our religious leaders who guide us?
What is God? Why not explore the question in earnest, that is, if you don’t mind a potentially troubling answer? Hmm, what about heaven? Do we wear clothes in heaven, and if so, why? Most people would say yes, but no one wants to offer an explanation. That is, are we shielding our private parts? If so, then this would indicate an awareness of such. If we are then aware, this would mean that while in the heavenly state, we have taken measures (spiritual clothing) to suppress a once-physical body part.
Doesn’t make sense, right, being that in heaven, there isn’t supposed to be one iota of shame, so why are we wearing clothing? Further, when in heaven, what if you meet an attractive soul of the opposite sex, what thoughts do you have? Of course, if we conclude that visually romantic instinctive reactions, even for a split second, are not consistent with the heavenly realm, then does this mean that heavenly souls are therefore of lesser scope, being more like zombies?
What about elapsed time? Does time stand still in heaven? However, if two souls in heaven are talking to one another, to begin a sentence and reach its end takes time, albeit a few seconds. So, given this truth, is there a day and night, a sunrise and a sunset, a calendar? All of which are created by elapsed time.
Lastly, your daughter’s beloved pet poodle, how can he not join her in heaven? It’s a no-brainer, right? God in his infinite goodness surely will allow our pets to have souls and to be together with us again in heaven. But what about your son’s lizard? Your son is just as affectionate and caring to this lizard as your daughter is to her dog. Can his lizard therefore, have a soul?
Yes, just like Copernicus, perhaps we should continue to ask ourselves these unpopular, unheard of questions which no one wants to answer, shunned by many father-figures and pulpit preachers, as we seek the ultimate Truth.
Guns and God Help Us
Over the past few weeks since the horrendous mass murders in Las Vegas and Sutherland Springs, Texas, perhaps you found yourself, as I had, very audibly cursing in vain at those television anchors of networks representing Republican strongholds, who of course tended to shift the focus away from gun control. Of course, on the defensive, they were quick to point the finger at Democrats for not focusing on the victims, but instead on the weapon. Ehh, where else should the focus be?! Incredible, we witnessed the execution of little kids at Sandy Hook, then Orlando, several other incidents here and there, Las Vegas, and now Texas. And still, absolutely zero has been done to ban the single military-style weapon used in each instance which can be legally purchased and converted from a semi-automatic, as if that wasn’t dangerous enough, to a fully automatic weapon. This is absolute idiocy at its best. It’s worth noting too that unlike a handgun which can justifiably be used for protection, or a long gun which can justifiably be used for hunting or target practice, this weapon is solely and exclusively used for killing humans en masse, that’s it!
Let’s cut to the chase here, perhaps a good chunk of the blame should fall on those politicians who cater to gun-advocacy groups. As a side note, what is it about pulling a trigger? Does it make these gun advocates feel more fulfilled? Gee, how about going hiking, looking through a telescope, or writing some poetry? If Stephen Paddock and Devin Kelley, and pretty much anybody else, can legally buy dozens of these weapons, hey, why can’t someone buy a bazooka, or how about a canon, or maybe even a tank, all the while claiming their 2nd Amendment right? Perhaps the bottom-line issue asks us to look in the mirror and decide for ourselves to what degree of maturity we are whether favoring or disfavoring a hand-held mechanical device that is designed to kill. God help us.
The Story of the Hammer
It was the summer of 1949, and a newly married 23-year old Dan Ostrowski drops by the local Sears & Roebuck store to purchase a folding tape measure, a box of 6-penny finishing nails, and a Craftsman hammer. Being skilled in carpentry, the young upstart architect settles into his new home and sets up his hobby’s tool shop in the basement, complete with a large workbench, a pegboard, and plenty of hardware to supplement. Eventually the summer heat subsides, and together with Victor Siuzdak, the husband of his wife’s sister, the pair of Pole’s tackle the task of remodeling the attic. Day after day, with hammer in hand, bangs and booms are heard as sheetrock, 2x4’s, floorboard and fiberglass insulation are put in place. Night after night, dinner is served to a hungry duo until the task is complete. Two new porches go up, front and back, then a picnic table, then a furnished cellar room, and on and on. And somewhere in the middle of all this hammering, six children are born. But, it’s not too long before his trustworthy Craftsman hammer gets deployed back into action. Project after project, my father must have hammered some tens of thousands of nails using this hammer. In fact, the photo you see is of him holding your author on the back porch of his house circa 1969, a porch of course that was made using this hammer.
But speaking of nostalgia and sentimentality as pointed out above, the story of this breakneck, blue collar hand tool and the Pole who wielded it draws its most merit and proof of power due to an unfortunate circumstance. This story would have never been written had the hammer not broken. While nailing an 8-penny common nail, the 65-year old hammer finally met its death as the head broke off from its hickory handle. (The photo shows its original look cosmetically put in place). I then took the head and handle to Sears as Craftsman’s policy permits a free replacement, however, the injured tool must be surrendered. Well, you’ve probably figured out the end of this story. How could I surrender such memories?
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"b" for billions
Whew! Last month's horrendous hurricane by the name of Irma certainly wrecked havoc and mayhem among millions of Floridians and southern state dwellers. Unfortunately Mother Nature decided when and where to inflict such a disaster, but I found it somewhat ironic that nobody seemed to admit…the obvious.
Obviously, we know with good probability that most hurricanes happen during the month of September. We also know that the entire Gulf coastline as well as the coasts extending from southern Florida up to North Carolina are hotspots for a hurricane landing. Is it all that far-fetched to perhaps designate that entire stretch, plus a mile inland all along the way, as a National Wildlife Refuge? Of course not, right? How could anyone propose such a money-losing, absurd idea which would ban the construction of coastal homes thus giving us a solution to avoid most death and destruction?
Of course, we are extremely sympathetic to all who suffered a loss because of Irma, but when are we going to learn? It is estimated that the cost to rebuild everything after that hurricane will be in the tens of billions of dollars, yes that’s “b” for billions. Hey, did anybody think about what might very well happen next September, and the September after that, and so on? It’s a no-brainer.
Case in point, 60-year old Kenny Szczepanski, a retired pharmacist and his wife, a homemaker who retired to Florida for their love of golf and sunshine lost their house just south of Sarasota, “We lost everything except our skin. We have no fingerprints here any more; our home, our cars, and our clothes, they’re all gone.”
On that note, leave it to our biased media to avoid any coverage of Irma’s effect in Cuba. Not one iota of live news coverage was reported from that country, even though Irma inflicted by far the most number of casualties there. Are we still “mad” at Cuba because of the late Fidel Castro’s tyrannical rule, or does our anger date back to the 1961 Bay of Pigs debacle? I guess for these broadcasting networks, it’s not enough to witness death and destruction, they need to add insult to injury.
Call GRO 1758
Call Northside 777. A familiar film-noir classic mentioned in this column before starring Jimmy Stewart as a newspaper reporter tasked with proving the innocence of a Polish-American man accused of killing a cop. I recently had the inkling to research the scoop behind this true story of Joseph Majczek and Theodore Marcinkiewicz, the two 20-something-year-old Chicagoans convicted of the murder back in 1933.
What I discovered were some very interesting parallels. Typically as you probably know, real-life stories converted into Hollywood films are often exaggerated and “all dolled up,” taking on entirely different storylines obviously to please the audience and make profits. In this film, wow, did the producers ever bypass that protocol!
In the film, Tillie Wiecek, played by Kasia Orzazewski, substitutes for the real life mother Tillie Majczek, a blue-collar Polish floor scrubber who in October of 1944 placed an ad in the Chicago Times reading “$5,000 REWARD FOR KILLERS OF OFFICER LUNDY ON DEC. 9, 1932. CALL GRO 1758, 12-7 P.M.”
Talk about having faith in something, check out those dates, that’s nearly a 12-year span! Turns out the ad got the attention of the paper’s city editor who assigned James McGuire, played by Jimmy Stewart as James McNeal, to investigate.
So far so good, I’m seeing close parallels between the true story and the film version. The convictions of these two guys, especially Majczek, were based largely on the eyewitness testimony of Vera Walush, the owner of a neighborhood speakeasy, who was portrayed as Wanda Skutnik in the film. Catch that Walush-Wanda sound connection? And as far as coming up with film names for the real suspects, Frank Wiecek played Joseph Majczek and Tomek Zaleska played Theodore Marcinkiewicz. Cameo appearances by E.G. Marshall and Leonarde Keeler, who actually played himself as the real-life inventor of the polygraph, taken by Wiecek, were also nice to see.
When the trial occurred in real life, Judge Charles Molthrop actually told Majczek that there was an injustice done in light of a new, second testimony and that he would try to get a retrial. In the film, ditto, it was the same.
Unfortunately Molthrop died before a retrial could be granted, but of what? Hmm, remember these guys were alleged cop killers, not too popular to declare innocent by a judge in prohibition-era Chicago.
After dealing get-out-of-jail-free cards to a few surly, supposed witnesses here and there in exchange for information, the police finally closed in on Joseph Majczek and arrested him on Dec. 22, 1932. Marcinkiewicz surrendered in January 1933.
Majczek claimed that Vera Walush had not identified him in two separate lineups on Dec. 22, but on Dec. 23, she was able to positively identify him. To corroborate the identifying date, the police then wrote a false report stating that Majczek had been arrested on Dec. 23, the day Walush had identified him. In the film, ditto again, the exact same scenario plays out, but with a twist.
While Majczek and Marcinkiewicz went to prison, it was because of McGuire’s persistence in exposing the falsified police report 11 years later that eventually led to Majczek being exonerated. Marcinkiewicz had no such luck, but because Majczek’s report was proven unlawful and both prisoners were part of the same case, the court granted habeas corpus to Marcinkiewicz who was released in 1950. However, what Hollywood film would settle for an ending like that?
Instead, director Henry Hathaway came up with a novel idea for a finale, and a tear-jerker. If it could be proven that a photo taken of Frank Wiecek and Wanda Skutnik escorted into the police station side by side simultaneously as suspect and witness was earlier than Dec. 23, the date Skutnik said she first saw him, then Skutnik’s testimony could be thrown out. To add to the thrill, Hathaway threw in a curve ball as this proof had to be presented before sundown otherwise Wiecek would be denied parole by the board of reviewers.
Far in the background of the photo was a tiny corner newsboy holding an even tinier front page of the day’s paper. Borrowing an idea from another news clip about a new photo enlarging process, McNeal wondered if the newsboy section could be enlarged, possibly revealing the date on the newspaper. Tensions grew as that front page was put through the process, spinning around and around with Wiecek’s parole board standing in doubt, and finally having the enlargement sent into a darkroom for exposure. Was he innocent? Would Tillie Wiecek’s hard-earned money and faith in her son and in a Chicago newsman come through? “Now, what’s the date on the paper, what’s the date?” nervously asked McNeal. “There it is, Dec. 22!”
I told you it was a tear-jerker…
The Poplawski Interview
Andrew Ostrowski: Doctor Poplawski, we'd first like to sincerely thank you for taking time out to share with us just a slice of your life. Before we delve into more deeper areas, take us back to your early youth. Growing up, who inspired you, how did you progress along your intellectual “journey to the stars?”
Nikodem Poplawski: I have been always curious about the world around me. My interests in science were growing thanks to my parents who are artists and were supporting my explorations in physics, astronomy, chemistry, and math. I was reading many books. Before high school, I learned the basics of calculus and admired its elegance. When I was 17, I learned advanced mechanics and Einstein’s general theory of relativity. I was amazed to the point that I already knew I would become a theoretical physicist, researching space, time, matter, and gravitation. As a doctoral student in the U.S., I developed my viewpoint on physics, similar to Paul Dirac, which emphasizes its aesthetic beauty and opposes redundant modifications to the current theories: “Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem” (‘Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity’)
AO: Whether it's National Geographic magazine, the popular T.V. series Through the Wormhole, or being named in Forbes Magazine as one of only five scientists in the world most likely to become the next Albert Einstein, you're no stranger to our readers. Personally, how has this media exposure helped to enhance your Polish pride while also setting an example for your students?
NP: I was quite surprised and happy to see my name there. Albert Einstein is my hero. I also tell my students that he is my great grand-mentor: a mentor of the advisor of my master’s thesis advisor in Poland. I am proud to be Polish, born in Toruń, the city of Copernicus. My science goal is to make, like my fellow city-man, a scientific breakthrough in our understanding of the Cosmos. I always look for bright students, passionate about physics as much as I am, so I could share with them the beauty of the Universe.
AO: Browsing your website, math.newhaven.edu/poplawski, your publications and presentations nearly run the gamut of theoretical physics. But is there such a point where contemplative theory reaches its limit and proven fact takes over? Or, hypothetically, should there be no such point?
NP: I am a theoretical physicist. However, physics is an experimental science. What cannot be proven experimentally or observationally (for example, string theory or extra dimensions), is not physics. My theory that our Universe originated in a black hole can be tested by measuring the Cosmic Microwave Background radiation which comes to us from all directions in the sky and which is a “footprint” left by the Universe when it was smaller and hotter. Last year I published, in Physics Letters B, an article showing that black hole cosmology is consistent with these measurements. However, I think that as we know more about the Universe, we will be facing new questions, and maybe there is a limit of what we can understand physically. In addition, if my theory is right, we will never learn about the universe that made our Universe through a black hole, and about earlier times.
AO: "Our own Universe could be the interior of a black hole existing in another universe", as you stated. Undoubtedly principal among all theories are the existence of black holes. Can you give us a crash-course in precisely what these celestial behemoths are and what goes on inside them?
NP: Very massive stars and centers of galaxies end up as black holes: regions of space from which nothing, not even light, can escape. According to standard interpretation of Einstein’s theory of relativity, all matter in a black hole goes to a central point where the density is infinite, which means that the theory is incomplete and we really do not know what is happening there. However, including a quantum-mechanical behavior of subatomic particles makes gravity repulsive at extremely high densities (Einstein-Cartan theory of gravity). This repulsion prevents infinite densities: the matter in a black hole instead collapses to an extremely large but finite density, stops collapsing, undergoes a Big Bounce like a compressed spring, and starts rapidly expanding. Extremely strong gravitational forces near this state cause an intense production, enormously increasing the mass inside a black hole. The interior (or rather the other side) of a black hole becomes a new, growing, baby universe. The black hole becomes a spherical doorway connecting us to that universe. We cannot see it unless we go into the black hole. Accordingly, our Universe could have been formed in a Big Bounce (instead of Big Bang), in a black hole existing in another, parent universe.
AO: Philosophically speaking, as science progresses especially given the Big Bang theory, inevitably the question of Man's existence arises. In light of this, how do you handle the ultimate question: Is there a God?
NP: I would answer this question with a question: “How do you define God?” I believe that the Laws of Physics that describe our Universe are simple, beautiful and universal. They are the Absolute, and I could call them God.
AO: As an aside, we won't let you go until you reveal to us your favorite Polish food, which is?
NP: My favorite Polish food is tomato soup with pasta and sour cream, and also Polish pierogi with mushrooms and sauerkraut.
AO: Getting back to business, what theory do you cherish as your greatest, and, can you briefly share with us the topic of your latest research work?
NP: My favorite theory in physics is Einstein’s general theory of relativity, which describes the Universe at the largest scales, largest speeds, and when gravity is very strong. Most physicists believe that the theory of relativity needs to be changed to make it consistent with quantum mechanics, which is the physics of particles on the atomic level. Quantum mechanics is probabilistic, describing systems by wave functions which give probabilities of where a particle could be and what it could be doing. In the standard interpretation of quantum mechanics, how particles behave is based on whether they are being measured (observed). When not measured, a particle’s wave function combines all possible states. When measured, the particle randomly chooses one of these states, and its wave function “collapses”; however, no one knows why or how. I support Roger Penrose’s idea that the gravitational interaction of the particle and the observing apparatus causes the particle to choose a state. More massive objects pick a state faster, which could solve the famous Schrödinger’s cat paradox in which a cat depending on atomic decays is simultaneously dead and alive for a long time. The cat would pick its fate in a very short time. I believe that it is quantum mechanics that must include gravity and thus be modified to become consistent with the theory of relativity. Gravitization of quantum mechanics to explain wave function collapse is my latest research. ~
Half-opened and head on the left
Half-opened and head on the left, repeat, half-opened and head on the left. It won’t take you too long to figure out that I’m referring to the absolute monotony of how funeral homes arrange the casket layouts of the deceased. How many times have you been to a wake only to find the same old scenario of the casket located parallel to a wall, flowers on each side and a kneeler in front, with half the body in view and always, I mean always, seeing the casket oriented with the head of the deceased on the left as you approach? Sensitivities aside respectfully of course, what is the story here? I do recall from my own father’s arrangements that there was the alternate option of having a fully opened casket oriented perpendicular to the wall with kneelers on both sides of the body. My family opted for the traditional setup however. Looking back though, I would have preferred the alternate arrangement, reasoning that if popes and presidents can have it that way, why can’t we?
The Mayor of Munchkin City
After the recent debacle involving the Morning Joe show, perhaps we should all be quoting the Mayor of Munchkin City in the county of the land of Oz in stating that “morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably”…enough already. To think the bloodied head of the president fake fiasco which occurred weeks before could be somehow twisted into being the president’s fault as it was claimed, yet another round of so-called perpetrator “victimization” followed. Having the fondest longtime admiration for Mika Brzezinski, co-host of the show, no justification can be had for any personal insults aimed at her. However, perhaps people are forgetting that the president is a human being too. Morning Joe’s day-in and day-out verbal assaults on the president were quite apparent. Let’s ask ourselves, how would we react?
Why Washington stayed alive
“Count Pulaski of Poland, an officer famous throughout Europe for his bravery and conduct in defense of the liberties of his country against the three great invading powers of Russia, Austria and Prussia, may be highly useful to our service,” so stated Benjamin Franklin in early 1777. That summer, Pulaski left France and arrived in Massachusetts, penning a letter to George Washington along the lines of “I came here, where freedom is being defended, to serve it, and to live or die for it.”
Arguably one event in the career of Casimir Pulaski stands out as his signature moment, earning him a good degree of admiration among the rank and file Continental Army. In the late summer of 1777, still awaiting an official appointment from Washington, Pulaski took matters into his own hands while engaged in the Battle of Brandywine, in Pennsylvania. Although this brawl, which was the longest single-day battle in the Revolutionary War lasting an uninterrupted 11 hours, was won by the British, had it not been for Pulaski’s defense, Washington and his retreating men would have been killed. After Congress found out about this, they instructed Washington to don the insignia of brigadier general onto Pulaski.
After studying the battlefield map of Brandywine, it’s stunning to realize that over 30,000 troops fought during this one-dayer, the most ever in the history of the Revolutionary War. Placing this 18th century map over a modern-day 21st century one left my mouth wide open. Of course, the “official” battlefield is now a historic park, but it only covers 50 acres, whereas, the actual battle took place over 35,000 acres! So a casual drive in the area and perhaps a picnic in a flower-filled meadow somewhere there would find you precisely on the same ground where men were screaming and being stabbed with bayonets. Incredible.
The E-shock
Any guess as to how many e-mails you have processed so far this year? Despite being a convenient way to communicate, there is still no standardized global method of e-mailing. Instead, it seems that often our communications provide more of an electric shock than an electronic message. Here's a categorization of ten types of everyday e-mail.
Overreaching: This type of e-mail will unnecessarily be addressed to a larger than needed group of recipients and finds us asking, “Who cares?”
The Illegal Forward Pass: Sometimes one will forward an e-mail that contains information that was only intended for the original recipient. The sender will often mistakenly assume that the confidentiality of the information sent is somehow understood by the recipient.
Careless: Ever get an e-mail with misspellings, awful grammar, incomplete thoughts, or is otherwise difficult to understand and react by thinking, “Ever go to school, stupid?”
Wartime: E-mails were invented in the 1960s to convey information; it was as simple as that. Today, sometimes however we fall into the trap of venting our disagreements through emails. This is a huge mistake because e-mails are not a conversation.
Screaming: SOME FOLKS DON'T REALIZE THAT USING CAPS IN AN E-MAIL MESSAGE IS SYNONIMOUS TO SCREAMING AT THE RECIPIENT.
Repeat Offense: Suppose you get an e-mail from someone but then you are forwarded the very same e-mail from someone else. Then you receive it again from another party, and so on.
Large and Slow: Unfortunately, we have all received e-mails containing humongous files, typically photos that take forever to open while we stare blankly at the hourglass on our screens.
The Novel: Occasionally an e-mail is received that is an extensive and lengthy narrative. As you scroll down, the e-mail information seems to be never-ending.
Stale Forward Pass: Many e-mails are time-sensitive. It’s not much use forwarding an e-mail today to recipients that were in need of the information yesterday.
The Unread: It’s amazing how someone can be working for an entire day at their computer and not check their e-mail.
The Capitalistic Immigrant
Piggybacking off of my recent Am-Pol Eagle column about divided black ties and blue collars comes a more intense matter for consideration. Have you noticed that a significant number of Poles and Polish Americans are not quite yet ready to mix? Perhaps true among many other immigrant nationalities, what seems to be evident is that too many immigrant Poles are adopting a Capitalistic aristocracy as their leading impetus upon settling in the United States. Of course, understandably the “American Dream” for many may entail high hopes such as driving a big Cadillac and making a million dollars.
Great, but what happens when an immigrant simply uses the U.S. for his or her own financial benefit, not quite obeying all of its rules of law and etiquette because deep down their true allegiance remains to their homeland? Their conscience pertaining to matters of the U.S. may not be affected as much, therefore what may be deemed as proper and improper to the Polish American, may simply bypass the conscience of the Polish immigrant. It’s a theory of mine based upon observation. Even at church socials, typically immigrant Poles cling to other immigrant Poles, while Polish Americans, being somewhat more congenial probably due to Americanized culture, unfortunately find themselves huddled amongst one another too. Actually it’s a terrible prospect of unfortunate human tendency, but if you look closely, the theory is arguably true.
Ethical Planes
We continue to hear remarks from newscasters and terrorism experts about ISIS being “entirely crazy and a cancer that has metastasized.” Very true, but we may be forgetting one thing. For people to be classified as abnormal or “crazy” means that they deviate from the standard norm which civilized society establishes as right or wrong. However, what we see in the situation with ISIS is that there are thousands, if not millions, of people who, while expressing absolutely no sympathy for them as rightfully most civilized people do, will fall short of condemning them. What does this mean? It means that the problem may not be about who’s right and who’s wrong under our own established standards and norms, but more so about realizing that different planes of ethics exist having their own, often conflicting, standards and norms. For example, our plane of ethics clearly condemns the public hanging of people from soccer field goal posts as is common practice in some countries. Alternately, some countries condemn even the thought of abortion, something that remains legal in this country. The war with ISIS will probably never end simply because we are dealing with vastly conflicting ideological and ethical standards and norms ingrained into each of our cultures right from conception.
A Walk on the Left Side
Why can’t we walk on the left side? Perhaps you too have asked such a question when strolling along a walkway, corridor, or populated footpath. Just the other evening I took the New York City subway system and transferred between lines, getting off the green line and hopping on the red line. However, in order to do that the traveler must walk along a lengthy underground corridor which connects the two subways. Yes, the graffiti is colorful, a hobo harmonica player’s echoed tunes can be heard from afar, and…here we go again.
Ten thousand people, or so it seemed, all walked towards me down the left side of the corridor! In a show of defiance to this ridiculously monkey-see, monkey-do brainless protocol, I intentionally began to walk on the left side only to receive confused looks, grimaces, and mumbled curses from these people who somehow couldn’t fathom why I was walking on “their side”.
What are we, cars? What law or rule says that people traveling in opposite directions on a sidewalk, corridor, or footpath must do so on each other’s left? Have you noticed? Even stairways see the same stupidity. I also occasionally walk up a busy set of stairs on the left, forcing those coming down to simply go crazy. Traffic protocol is one thing, but to absorb it into human behavior doesn’t say much for mentality. Boy, I’d like to see those folks in that subway corridor take a trip to say, Seaford, England where the reverse craziness is true…
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Now that Easter is over, perhaps this is an ideal time to reflect on the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m sure you found your local church services to be very fulfilling and always the pinnacle of the occasion. I especially cherished the quiet time of prayer immediately following the Holy Thursday Mass when the altar was stripped, the lighting got dimmed, and preparation for Good Friday began. It is undoubtedly my favorite evening of the year. The veneration of the Cross on Good Friday of course was quite touching, as parishioners lined up to kiss the Cross. Getting there was not so good however, and even seemed pretty ugly…
On my way to the 3 p.m. service, when of course many people know that Christ died on the Cross, all I could do was shake my head in disgust. Across the street I spotted a neighbor washing and waxing his fancy sports car. The neighbor behind me was cutting wood to the tune of some rock ‘n roll radio station. And two doors away was a lawn maintenance crew of about a dozen guys with mowers, blowers, and every kind of tool in full throttle just as the 3 o’clock hour neared. I would guess that all of these people profess themselves to be “Christian” too. Huh?
Where is the disconnect here?! Are these people living, breathing, and thinking individuals, or simply ants on the ground? What are we, if not conscientious beings with minds to display reason and rationale? Surely the fully functioning and mature mindset offers consideration to such a profound occasion as Christ’s death on the Cross, taking time out of life’s daily routine by acknowledging this to be a priority. Instead however, we see the opposite. Pure ignorance! In the examples above, these people are in fact existing to live, and living to exist. Working, playing, eating, and sleeping. And that’s all. And I’m sorry to say, just like the ant on the ground.
94/18
Sunday after Sunday exiting Mass, I find myself quite discouraged and downright perplexed. How about you? Don’t you think it’s odd how little time is devoted to spirituality and how much time tags onto secularism? Typically, each week we spend 1 hour of worship and 167 hours of non-worship. For argument’s sake, let’s throw in some time for prayer and maybe some good works too, recalculating our secular life to 150 hours per week. Factoring in sleep time, another 56 hours, we arrive at our final sum of 94 hours. Yes, that’s the amount of time each week that most people of faith spend doing non-spiritual things, as opposed to a measly 18 hours doing spiritual things.
Isn’t this absolutely ridiculous? While the belief in an afterlife is nearly universal, you would think those above numbers should be reversed! Indeed, shouldn’t we be spending the vast majority of our time devoted to spirituality while dabbling our few remaining hours in secular tidbits? Why isn’t the lead story on your 6 o’clock news every night all about the latest breakthrough attempts at pondering the soul’s existence, paranormal encounters, and probing the unknown? And wouldn’t it be great if our world’s religions pooled their efforts at understanding salvation for the good of us all? By now you’re probably shaking your head in disgust, realizing that we humans are really an incredibly immature people yielding poor judgment and an obvious degree of irony. Ah, but we have heart, yet as the Wizard of Oz stated, “As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don’t know how lucky you are not to have one.”
14 Years, 14 Reflections
Fourteen years ago under pitch black skies, then Pope John Paul II conducted the Via Crucis, or Way of the Cross in Rome, famed for its dramatic backdrop of the spotlighted Coliseum overlooking thousands of illuminated faces under candlelight. I was one of those faces. The following are quotes of his 14 meditations along with my reflections, and the Lord’s Prayer in Latin. Many churches carry out the Stations of the Cross weekly during Lent.
I. JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH – “Pilate's verdict was pronounced under pressure from the priests and the crowd. The sentence of death by crucifixion was meant to calm their fury and meet their demand of Crucify him! Crucify him!” Ask yourself, how often have you too been scourged for defending what is right?
Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum; adveniat regnum tuum; fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra. Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie; et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris; et ne nos inducas in tentationem; sed libera nos a malo.
II. JESUS CARRIES HIS CROSS – “Pilate said to the crowd: ‘Ecce Homo, look what you have done to this man!’ But there seems to be another voice speaking as well, saying: Look what you have done, in this man, to your God!” Are you ‘one of the crowd’ on issues like abortion, contraception, and capital punishment? Pater noster…
III. JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME – “To the end, down to the bitter end, he is faithful to what he had said: ‘Not my will, but yours be done.’” Are you willing to fall down in defense of Christ because of controversy, rejection, or unpopularity? Pater noster…
IV. JESUS MEETS HIS AFFLICTED MOTHER – “His Cross becomes her Cross, his humiliation is her humiliation, the public scorn is on her shoulders.” When was the last time you examined your life and asked, would my mother be proud of me? Pater noster…
V. SIMON OF CYRENE IS FORCED TO HELP CARRY THE CROSS – “How long did he continue to walk beside this condemned man, all the while making it clear that he had nothing in common with him, nothing to do with his crime, nothing to do with his punishment?” Are you forced to “carry a cross” or do you volunteer? Pater noster…
VI. VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS – “In fact the Savior leaves his imprint on every single act of charity, as he did on Veronica's cloth.” How many times have you passed by a homeless person who was asking for spare change? Pater noster…
VII. JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME – “I am a worm, and no man. Not even an Ecce Homo here, but something much less, much worse.” This station marks where Jesus’ death notice was posted. What do you want your own death notice, or obituary, to say when it’s published in the newspaper? Pater noster…
VIII. JESUS MEETS THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM – “Here is a call to true repentance, and sorrow at the reality of the evil that has been committed.” He tells women of all generations to weep for their children. Do you have a child lost in faith? What are you doing about it? Pater noster…
IX. JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME – “Every station along this Way is a milestone of obedience and self-emptying.” Do you fully empty yourself of worldly value, or find yourself only halfway there because “who can do such a thing?” as Lazarus said. Pater noster…
X. JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS – “A person’s body is the expression of their soul.” Do you change the television channel when you come across movies displaying nudity and enacting sins of the flesh? Pater noster…
XI. JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS – “The whole of this body, its hands, its feet, its every bone, is a priceless ransom.” Are you willing to ransom your body by having symbolic “nail holes” in your hands and in your feet? Pater noster…
XII. JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS – “Here we have the greatest, the most sublime work of the Son in union with the Father. Yes, in union, in the most perfect union possible.” His death, crafted by the Father, was the ultimate goal, that being to conquer sin through salvation. For God’s sake, why then do we hesitate to go to confession? Pater noster…
XIII. JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS – “In the mystery of the Redemption, we are enriched by a gift from on high and at the same time ‘bought’ by the ransom paid by the Son of God.” Looking at your life, honestly ask yourself, are you worth this ransom paid? Pater noster…
XIV. JESUS IS PLACED IN THE SEPULCHER – “From the moment when man, as a result of sin, was driven away from the Tree of Life, the earth became a burial ground. A great planet of tombs.” Yet, that tree still exists. We can find it through Reconciliation, the Eucharist, and a sincere inner desire to seek it out. Pater noster...
Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus…Amen.
Got Money?
Got money? Perhaps, as you gaze at the stars above during these cold, clear winter evenings, this ridiculous question befalls you. And does it really matter? Often we think of extraterrestrial civilizations as naked beings with big eyes and bigger heads, traveling at warp speed across the galaxy and being far advanced in thinking than we are. Yet, if this turns out to be true, do you think their planet has a monetary system? It’s so embarrassing, isn’t it? Here we are living in a “mano a mano,” survival-of-the-fittest type of culture while our celestial neighbors exhibit total harmony as one people united together.
So how did we stray from this utopian approach to life? Most historians believe money was invented around 5000 B.C. in the form of metal objects, however some date the actual practice of assigning value to an object, which could be bought and sold, to as far back as 17,000 B.C.
But, forget the history lesson, why don’t we ask the troubling questions, why were things bought and sold, why was there competition among man, why not share and develop together for the betterment of the whole just like those extraterrestrials we imagine? Ask yourself, you may not like the answer.
The Mayor of Munchkin City
One major television news network has undoubtedly reached an all-time low in my opinion. Rather than report on news stories and propose objective cause and effect for them, this network seems to, quoting the Mayor of Munchkin City in the county of the land of Oz, “morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably” condemn every move Donald Trump makes, from the opening of the broadcast. Not once have I heard anything positive from one of their anchors, not one iota. Instead, the network seems to have been bent on poking jabs at the man since he decided to run for president years ago. Let’s take a moment to state the code of conduct for all news agencies: Journalistic objectivity refers to fairness, disinterestedness, factuality, and nonpartisanship, but most often encompasses all of these qualities.
False claims, alternate facts, and illegitimacy. In the few days that Donald Trump has taken control as our 45th president, you may have noticed a general hatred for the man, ironically coming from the same people who accused him of being a hate monger.
With exclamations of “Hitlerian” tactics, anti-women policies, and even a threat to blow up the White House, where do these people come from, you may ask? Just the other day, viewers were treated to a major news network’s anchor reporting that the president’s false claims that he lost the popular vote due to illegal immigrant voters were now being investigated. Gee, how does the anchor know the claims are false? So much for objectivity in reporting the news.
Supplementing our political discussion for this week is the stance taken by too many folks that building a wall across the southern U.S. border is somehow immoral and not reflective of true American ideology. As you recall too, a few notable religious leaders expressed similar sentiment, as if to say, an enclosed culture implies selfishness and anti-sociality. It may be helpful to be reminded that many of our treasured, historic places, such as Jerusalem, were built within a wall. And how about Vatican City, the majority of which was originally enveloped in a wall?
Though it may seem an honorable liberty of Americans to protest and call for freedoms of the womb and the wall, why stop at that? Why not then protest for the right to drive through red lights, walk the streets naked, or cheat to win at everything? Unfortunately, too many people don’t understand why we have laws.
Another Kind of Wall
Heaven is for Real. That’s the name of the book written by Todd Burpo and subsequent film detailing his son’s near-death experience. After seeing the movie last week and doing some follow-up research, it’s difficult to believe this little boy and his family are telling…a falsehood. Without being overly gullible, don’t you think it is ironic how so many people who practice a faith belief seem to automatically doubt any stories about multi-colored horses, singing angels, and a different-looking Jesus than what has been portrayed, existing in heaven? Well, that’s exactly what the boy said he saw in his encounter, even telling his parents he met his little sister too who was never born but died from a miscarriage years back, something the boy never knew.
Perhaps doubts should be reversed in favor of accepting the possible notion that all life continues after bodily death, be it the human, the animal, or yes, even the butterfly. Sadly, it seems our world’s spiritual “establishment” for the most part has shunned such ideas, preferring to think inside the box, not to rock the boat, and limit alternative existential thinking. Now who’s really building a “wall”?
The Lesser of Two Evils?
A church bulletin published just before last month's election asked voters to contemplate in prayer their choice between the “lesser of the two evils,” Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump. Well, it looks like the heavenly angels heard the outcry of America in defying nearly all odds, pollsters, and predictions about the outcome. In what has been labeled as the most historic election in U.S. history, Donald Trump became our 45th president. If you were one of those praying, just how important were your prayers?
Consider the fact that you have just saved the lives of tens of thousands of unborn children who, statistical analysis tells us, would have been aborted over the next 40 years had certain Supreme Court justices been chosen. Interestingly, what abortion proponents seem to forget is that when you allow an unborn life to be killed, you also extinguish a new soul. That’s above and beyond serious, more so than the physical loss.
Consider the fact that your vote will soon enable scores of blue collar citizen workers to remain in business and feed their families. You may find it ironic how anyone, including certain spiritual leaders, can automatically denounce the round-up and deportation of illegal immigrants as “immoral” yet allow legal citizen workers to suffer for losing their jobs to illegal immigrants, not to mention the insult given to the millions of immigrants waiting on line to come into this country.
Unfortunately we are now seeing protests in the streets across America mainly by “college” students. Odd, wasn’t college the place to go to broaden one’s thinking? What is a protest but a polarized attempt to proclaim a one-sided message? Sincerely, the broad message of the country’s majority electorate chose Donald Trump. What more broad-minded, fair, equitable process can there be? Kids, go back to school.
Chatting on the phone at 3 a.m. with a colleague of mine as the election results were announced we discovered a remarkable coincidence. It dawned on us that, not since John F. Kennedy has there been a president who will now stir up so much consequential change in policy. Oddly enough, as a side note, also not since JFK’s Jackie Onassis has there been a comparatively beautiful woman who will be our First Lady!
Follow the yellow brick road. Now what? The Land of Oz may be on the horizon. As both the House and Senate now have majority Republican seats, Trump’s “marching orders” are expected to be carried out swiftly and speedily. Look for immediate results in healthcare policy and immigration reform. Those crashing stock market numbers you witnessed at 2 a.m. on that historic eve have already started to rebound.
You know, I had drafted another version of this column in preparation of a Hillary Clinton win. Of course, we need to be respectful of voters who sincerely voted for her and consider their viewpoints as equally arguable. For example, in response to a reader’s comment a few weeks ago revolving around morality, voters may have noticed Clinton, a pro-choicer and late-term abortion proponent, holding her head down in prayer at the Al Smith dinner blessing.
Pro-lifers may have seen this act as an abominable moral breach, finding it ironic for Clinton to think she’s going to heaven, yet, pro-choicers such as she will sleep soundly at night feeling absolutely secure in their heavenly attainment. Both sides may offer arguments for and against. Hence, an example of real-time, ever-evolving morality.
What’s the point? Before offering a letter or comment of condemnation, a few of which I received and have chosen not to share, consider that your opinion may be as validly right and/or wrong as the person you are writing to, based on the above example. Therefore, we as a society need to realize that morality, values, lifestyles, norms, and probably life as we know it for that matter, are continually in the state of being “unknown.”
Such concepts cannot be put under a microscope and identified. Clinton versus Trump? Who was right and who was wrong on what direction the country should take? Instinctually it becomes impossible not to have an opinion, but technically we should never ask the question simply because the answer lies in the unknown. This may all be very terribly important, but equally arguable is that all of it may also be just a waste of time…
“If the only thing you know is that you know nothing, do you know something?” – Socrates
Big Shot for a Day
Washington, D.C. is certainly a stately-looking town. While visiting there recently, I had a chance to meander around the lengthy Mall from east to west, noticing the massive seating setup on the steps of the Capitol in preparation for Trump’s inauguration.
Browsing the Portrait Gallery, one of several Smithsonian Museums dotting the area, the visitor cannot help being swept away by colossal-sized oil paintings of all our past presidents. Right down the block is the National Archives, which houses the Declaration of Independence and Constitution among other notable documents.
Of course, what would a visit to D.C. be without a peek inside the newly created Trump International Hotel? As I approached it on a Tuesday afternoon, the familiar “not my president” mantra was being chanted by about a hundred grammar school kids marching up and down the streets of the corner building. First question, shouldn’t these little kiddos be in school? Who’s really hijacking the country, the president-elect, or the adults who took these kids out of class to promote a political agenda?
“Closed I guess, huh?” asked I of one of the numerous police guards lined up behind the barricaded hotel’s fenced-off side entrance. “No, just go around the front and they’ll let you in,” he replied.
Seeing 50 police officers in riot gear lined up in defense along the gated front entrance, I hesitantly made my way toward them, and amazingly was allowed into the building. Needless to say, I felt like a big-shot walking up the marble steps of the entrance. “Good afternoon sir,” said the outer doorman as he instinctively rushed to open the door for me, thinking I was an occupant. Fifteen feet later, “Good afternoon sir,” echoed the inner doorman who did the same.
Once inside, the hotel guest is left in awe gazing upwards in the Grand Lobby. Its architectural genius leaves nothing in the bag. Fine wines are served on the periphery, with plenty of social space for seating. But perhaps the spectacle that ‘trumps’ them all are the numerous reception rooms flanking the lobby. Stepping inside, gold-gilded pictures populate the walls with white linen covered tables and chairs arranged just right.
However, at $4,595 per night for a Postmaster Suite bedroom, I thought I had better humbly exit the building before someone inside figured out that I didn’t belong there. Sporting my sunglasses with a look of savoir-faire, I obliged the paparazzi-type onlookers and flash photography taken as I walked back down those marble steps. Guess I fooled them, and didn’t mind being a big-shot for a day after all.
Wrapping up my three-day visit to D.C., I went to a folk rock concert at the JFK Center for the Performing Arts, but not without surprise. On my way there, I began to walk along the lengthy reflecting pool stretching to the Lincoln Memorial when I met and chatted with a woman who, by the walk’s end, couldn’t believe how heartless some people can be. Having mentioned that I was a writer, perhaps she felt more conducive to express herself.
Turns out she sent what amounted to be a very friendly, cheerful e-mail to a guy she met in her line of work, who she sincerely thought would make a nice new friend. “Sorry, I don’t mix business with pleasure,” strategically inferred the reply. A perfectly valid reply, yet, what validity can be given to someone who bypasses how others feel?
Interestingly, when I got to the Center about an hour later and took my front row seat, the curtain rose finding me quite stunned to see who was performing. It was the woman I had just met…
What about those "other" souls?
Have you ever wondered what happens to all those people who died before the coming of Christianity? How are they judged? Is morality ever-evolving and therefore cannot apply universally in concrete terms, such as in “natural law”? For example, Roman Coliseum spectators who cheered the killing of innocents were probably very friendly, cordial everyday good and mature people whose moral culture saw nothing wrong with this behavior. Or, the Aztec civilization, again probably very friendly, amicable people who happened to offer ritual sacrifices of humans, or the Colonial slave owner who was probably just as pious and devout a Christian as you and me, but their moral culture had not yet developed the wrongfulness of slavery. We therefore must use caution in applying a catechetical “just and unjust” blanket policy and not assume such peoples are automatically guilty. We shouldn’t be surprised then to see a lot of people in heaven who we thought would never, ever be allowed. Indeed it may be argued that the only reason you and I see an action as moral or immoral is simply because time has evolved for cultures to evaluate it as moral or immoral.
Take a look in the mirror
Perhaps the biggest absurdity of the recent election fanfare came a few days before the second debate, when the now infamous lewd audio of Mr. Trump’s sexual comments surfaced. Of course, everyone agrees that this type of banter is absolutely and undeniably wrong, period. Wait a second here… Finding myself literally cursing at the television screen while hearing the irony and hypocrisy of politicians, news media, and others alike in casting stones at Mr. Trump, let the truth be told please. What man or woman among us, sometime in their life, has not entertained similar sinful thoughts for at least a split-second, just an eensy-weensy amount of time, upon seeing an attractive other? Ask yourself the question, if a beautiful woman with tight-fitting jeans walks down the street, why do men look at her for an extra second? Are they admiring her jeans? No, in a split-second reaction, truthfully, they imagine what it’s like to possess her. Typically, after a second or two, our moral conscience kicks in and we dismiss the notion. Yes, we all sin, to varying degrees. Despite popular opinion however, thoughts are just as sinful as words. And wasn’t it Christ who said that merely thinking about another with lust is sinful? Media and political condemners of Mr. Trump might want to dismount from their “white stallions”, remove their “shining armor”, and take a look in the mirror.
Cafeteria Catholic Candidates and Company
I don’t know about you, but I found myself puzzled over a recent article in a newspaper having a predominantly Catholic audience, which petitioned voters to choose their next president carefully amidst a litany of topics outlined. Oddly enough, I didn’t see the Pro-Life/Pro-Choice topic listed. Shouldn’t it be?
First of all, like many of you, I find it absolutely abominable how anyone claiming to be a practicing Catholic can get down on their knees at Mass after receiving the Holy Eucharist while supporting a political candidate who would allow the murder of thousands of fetuses through abortion. Need we be reminded that protecting the sanctity of life is the number one and most important policy of the Catholic Church? For decades, it is what millions of devout Catholics have been fighting for through everything from Rosary rallies to marches on the Capitol.
And to those candidates who offer the strategic excuse of being “Catholic yet pro-choice” by not imposing their faith on politics, regrettably your faith is not negotiable. Our next president will choose a Supreme Court judge whose presence will decide the future of those above-mentioned fetuses. Will it be life or death? For true Catholic voters, this topic is of utmost importance and may very well be the sole reason for choosing a candidate.
Added to the fact that nationwide polls indicate the top two concerns facing our nation are security and the economy. It seems to me we have our priorities in order now, but you decide. And let’s not forget what honest Abe Lincoln once said: “Elections belong to the people. It’s their decision. If they decide to turn their back on the fire and burn their behinds, then they will just have to sit on their blisters.”
Death
Indeed a topic nobody cares to entertain. Do you find it strange that the only time people spend an hour or so around this subject is when they attend a wake or funeral? Who thinks about their own death? No one. Instead, our life involves 24 hours per day of “living”. We get up in the morning, eat breakfast, brush our teeth, wash and go to work or play, returning to another meal and a soft bed only to do the exact same thing the next day. Does anyone care to stop a moment and consider the reality that…you are going to die? Ironic isn’t it, if you could open the coffins of Bob Hope, Marilyn Monroe, or Fred Astaire, all you would see are bones. Indeed the epitome of “life”, now absolutely nothing. Yet, we continue to be ignorant of death, thus failing to be forced to then contemplate life.
Where's the Bunched Broomskirt and the Band?
Notice something strange about your weather station television hosts? I’ve been tuning in to a first-class meteorological giant of a station for very thorough forecasts around the clock. Temperatures for local towns stream across the bottom of the screen, and hourly predictions are posted. But apart from this automated data are of course a cohort of live meteorologists alternating on screen and translating the radar into plain English. That is, if you could tell them apart. Oddly enough, the station’s eight female meteorologists always seem to be wearing similar styled one-piece, skintight wardrobes. I mean, doesn’t anybody wear the old fashioned bunched broom skirt anymore? And, to the curious eye, none of these women are wearing wedding bands. Is it the in-thing now for a married woman to conceal her ring? A big discovery, and all because I wanted to find out when it would rain.
We Do It Too
The controversy surrounding Donald Trump’s supposed racist remarks may have exposed something much deeper than what appears. Of course, the initial reaction to Trump, who inferred that the judge presiding over the Trump University civil lawsuit would tend to rule against him simply due to the judge’s ethnicity, drew almost instinctual rebuttal from the GOP elite.
“Hold the phone, hold the phone!” as Telly Savalas said in The Battle of the Bulge. Interestingly, politicians as well as the rest of us may find it odd to point the finger at Trump when realizing that…we do it too. If an ethnic family of four opts to always have dinner at a restaurant of their ethnicity, are they being racist? If a ten-year-old kid of a certain ethnicity wears a sports team replica shirt, name, and number of a player of his ethnicity, is the kid exhibiting biased racist behavior? Therefore, in today’s misaligned mindset, it’s okay to show bias within an ethnicity when nobody gets insulted, but it’s racist to show bias outside an ethnicity and when conflict results. Ask yourself, what difference should there be?
Mr. Hyde
EWTN continues to be a favorite channel for many of us. However, I’m finding that all too often the message of Christ’s sacrifice for mankind and our ultimate pathway to salvation because of this seems to cover over a very important point nobody wants to talk about. Ask yourself, why did Christ have to come in the first place? Unfortunately you arrive at a very sad conclusion. While all of today’s focus seems to be on how to attain salvation, for example going to confession and receiving the Eucharist, which is all perfectly fine, does anyone want to begin the conversation by admitting that mankind is inherently fraught with evil?
It seems we are spending an inordinate amount of time on the solution to sin, but virtually no time on the cause of sin. Perhaps by honestly admitting our true nature, that there really is a “Mr. Hyde” under our Dr. Jekyll skin, can we begin to plot a course of proper treatment in utilizing all of our spiritual resources.
What Happened to All of My Toys?
Most of us who were around 10 years old in the early 1970s may remember staring at our television tubes with mouths opened in awe as Evel Knievel prepared yet another one of his daredevil stunt jumps. What Knievel toys did you have? The operative word being “did.” Like me, I’m sure you’ve now asked yourself the question, “What happened to all of my toys?”
My toy theory is that, when we reach our teens, we despise these toys because they are associated with “little kids.” Once in our 20s, reality sets in and retaining our childhood toys becomes meaningless. Until we hit our forties. Now, like you, I’d sail the seven seas to find that Evel Knieval motorcycle wind-up toy which I once had. To be or not to be a kid again, that is the question.
Candidates for the Psychiatrist's Chair...and is there and ideal Ideology?
Glenn Gramigna, former Pole-itics columnist for the Am-Pol Eagle and one of our best who passed away in the fall of 2013, might have offered some interesting reflections about all this hoopla going on in the ever-evolving race to the White House. No roller coaster ride at your favorite amusement park could ever come close to what we are witnessing. With a contested GOP convention looming in the midst, the Republicans seem to be facing a choice of… how to lose. Imploding on themselves may certainly be the post-election diagnosis, just as they did four years ago, and for that matter, eight years ago too.
Let’s get each of them into our psychiatrist’s chair as we attempt to identify the good stuff and the bad stuff running rampant that are perhaps stirring some of our readers into forming severely polarized opinions.
“Alright let’s get ‘em out, get ‘em outta here” seems to be the mantra at nearly all of Donald Trump’s rallies as protesters seek to create controversy. Sucker-punching doesn’t exactly help, nor does joking about it from the podium by the candidate. Barring a specific faith group of people from entering the country drew some squirmishes too. And looking to punish women for breaking anti-abortion laws seems unheard of in the America we know, right? But what’s the real story behind these apparently outlandish statements?
While so much criticism has instinctively been directed towards Mr. Trump, isn’t it strange that no one seems to be asking why he says what he says? Remember this is a guy with so much money that he doesn’t care but to tell it like it is. Whether you love him or hate him, it may be that Mr. Trump, through his unedited and off-the-cuff nature, is revealing our nation’s own longstanding and hypocritical inner psyche. We just never heard of it spoken out loud before.
Our next contender for the crown, Ted Cruz, seems to be an interesting mix of good-looks, religious zeal, and rehearsed monotone. I’m not sure if I witnessed any of his interviews, conversations, or debates as being sporadic and spontaneous. Rather, answers seem to emerge as being carefully crafted and politically correct.
CNN’s David Gergen, who served as advisor to several former presidents, seems to favor this more traditional approach to “presidential demeanor.” Wait a minute here, who ever said that a U.S. president has to act a certain way? Why can’t he or she curse and swear? Have we become so accustomed to 3-piece-suited presidents who look the part and prefer to speak eloquently rather than truthfully so as not to displease anyone?
Our final contestant is none other than Ohio governor John Kasich. And after months of name-calling, sizing of hands -and other body parts, negative ads, sex, lies, and videotape accusations between the other candidates, everybody in their right mind now seems to be asking the same question, “Why can’t this guy be the Republican nominee?” Kasich seemed like a “nobody” months ago. He has thus far only won a few delegates and is mathematically out of contention.
Yet, many agree that he comes across as the most favorable candidate in demeanor, knowledge, and overall appeal. But, now that many of us finally realize this, what does our late awakening tell us? Have we been so conditioned to choose a particular embodiment for the presidency that we may have overlooked this man? Indeed that might be the case.
...But let’s continue our electoral discussion and focus on some of the ideologies battling each other as represented by our presidential candidates.
Capitalism has never before been in so much of a spotlight, at least when Donald Trump is around. Donning silk ties, a jumbo jet, and a billion dollar bank roll, the Republican frontrunner represents the ideology in its purest form. Proponents argue that Trump epitomizes the “American Dream” success story and favor his point-blank approach to problem solving.
Opponents however, argue that the nation should stand for something other than success, citing the ideals of compassion, leniency, and tolerance. It was once said that capitalism is the furthest philosophy from Christianity, but is there something closer?
“I want free college tuition for everyone”, as Bernie Sanders says. The socialist is aiming at eliminating the highs and lows of society in every aspect. Fans of the Vermont Senator are significantly of the younger-class of voters who, comparable to the late 1960's movement, question authority and established policy.
On paper, socialism looks great. Nobody’s poor, nobody’s rich, and everyone is humming the words to Kumbaya. But if you tell person A that the government will give him everything he needs in life to be satisfied, and person B that the only way he’s going to be satisfied in life is by applying himself, who do you think will be more proactive, A or B?
Constitutionalists. Immediately images of a ruffled-shirted fellow wearing a white ponytail under a three-pointed hat and yelling from a balcony come to mind. Whoever thought that a document written in 1787 would be vehemently defended verbatim by lobbyists, special interest groups, and presidential candidates such as Ted Cruz despite 229 years worth of evolving times? To think that one model of an assault rifle alone cannot be banned in the wake of monthly shooting incidents all across the country seems proof enough of political insanity.
Is she a liberal or a progressive? Or perhaps a progressive liberal? As Hillary Clinton looks to increase her front-standing delegate status as the Democratic nominee, who in the world knows what’s what anymore? Liberals seek to use taxpayer money for the betterment of society, while progressives aim at using the government’s power to make large institutions play by a set of rules. Sound nice? In a controlled environment encased in a test-tube yes, but many would argue that right now this nation is out of control.
Blue-Collars and Back-Breakers
Controversial Mayor of New York City Bill DeBlasio has recently announced a $15 minimum wage standard for about 50,000 city employees, up from $11.79. Umm, that increase would translate into a lot of money. What seems odd is the fact that no one ever seems to talk about the value of work ethic anymore, only “how much more can we get for doing the same job”. What ever happened to the blue-collar, break-your-back, blood, sweat, and tears “Rocky Balboa” philosophy for achieving success, a hallmark for many proud and hard-working immigrants? If you recall the scene from H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine movie where the society of the future is just sitting around eating apples all day, well, is this where we are headed?
Bahhh!, Mooo!
Christmas at the Church of St. Stanislaus Kostka in Staten Island will be difficult to top next year. Said its pastor, Fr. Jacek Wozny, “The pulpit was created to resemble a well that signifies where Christ says come to him” as he referred to the pulpit decorated with hay and a wooden water bucket. Fr. Jacek has extensive study in the arts and transformed the entire altar into an old-world village scene from Poland. It was even reported that some children escaped the hands of their parents during Midnight Mass to venture into the altar scene. One parishioner commented that she thinks the only way this feat can be topped in next year’s altar village scene is for Fr. Jacek to have live animals present in the stable! Will we be hearing those familiar Bahhh and Mooo calls from sheep and cow? Stay tuned!
The Name-Changing Game
More often these days, you may find that people you befriend on websites such as Facebook have potentially foreign-looking last names, leaving you to wonder in discouragement if…it’s just another case of Americanization. Last week while browsing a social media website, I spotted a young adult from a very proud immigrant family who clearly cropped her last name. Now, I ask you, is it that parents are failing to instill a strong sense of heritage and honor in their children, or is peer-pressure so strong that young adults feel they must Americanize their last name?
Midnight Oil
No, not the band on the Short Memory tab of this website, but as a lifelong devotee of midnight homemade pizza, I am finding that the rather ingenious method of using a baking stone to cook a pizza may need more brainwork. After purchasing a heavy 16” round stone from a well-known retailer, my first few pizzas turned out extremely delicious. However, enter the oil caper. Apparently the stone gets so hot that extra virgin olive oil saturates the crust and makes its way not only onto the stone, but into the stone and any attempt to heat it results in a massive smoke storm in my oven. Maybe I will stick to baking muffins.
Daniel "Doc" Ostrowski
Daniel Ostrowski, 90
Retired architect, golfer, and true family man
Daniel Ostrowski, 90, of West Brighton, a retired architect and founding member of the Sunrise Club of golfers at Silver Lake golf course, died Wednesday at home in the midst of his family.
Born in 1925 to Polish immigrants, he lived in New Brighton and attended St. Peter's Boys High School.
Following school, he aided the allied war effort and was enlisted in the Army Air Forces.
After attending Geneva College in Beaver Falls, PA, he pursued a career as an architectural draftsman for Charles Dunker and Associates, and Epstein, Greenfield, & Sawicki Architects, both of the New York City area. He worked two jobs back to back each day, marrying and settling in West Brighton.
After retiring in the early 1990's, he landed a part-time job with the architect Ronald Victorio and Associates of West Brighton. Mr. Ostrowski was known for designing many homes on Staten Island. He also designed numerous bank vaults for popular branches in the area.
Nicknamed "Doc", after winning the 1967 Doc McCarthy Memorial Award for his golfing talent, the name became his signature trademark. He frequently captured Staten Island Advance golfing news headlines for his tournament play.
In his spare time, he enjoyed fly-fishing and family outings to the Adirondacks. He was also an avid fan of aviation and sported a collection of vintage model airplanes.
Mr. Ostrowski was a dedicated parishioner of St. Stanislaus Kostka Church, New Brighton, and heralded his Polish heritage, often wearing a Polish Eagle emblem on his attire.
He is survived by his wife, Josephine (nee Perkowski) of 66 years, and two daughters, Joanne and Christine, as well as four sons, James, Thomas, John, and Andrew. Also, nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. His younger sister, Emily, passed away on September 25th of this year.
"My father's life was one of self-sacrifice, dedication, and faith. He stood for the bedrock family ideals of cohesiveness, hard work ethic, and tradition. Our family has been blessed because of him", adds his son Andrew.
The funeral will be Tuesday from the Harmon Home for Funerals, West Brighton, with a Mass at 10 a.m. from St. Stanislaus Kostka Church. Burial will follow in St. Peter's Cemetery, West Brighton.
Retired architect, golfer, and true family man
Daniel Ostrowski, 90, of West Brighton, a retired architect and founding member of the Sunrise Club of golfers at Silver Lake golf course, died Wednesday at home in the midst of his family.
Born in 1925 to Polish immigrants, he lived in New Brighton and attended St. Peter's Boys High School.
Following school, he aided the allied war effort and was enlisted in the Army Air Forces.
After attending Geneva College in Beaver Falls, PA, he pursued a career as an architectural draftsman for Charles Dunker and Associates, and Epstein, Greenfield, & Sawicki Architects, both of the New York City area. He worked two jobs back to back each day, marrying and settling in West Brighton.
After retiring in the early 1990's, he landed a part-time job with the architect Ronald Victorio and Associates of West Brighton. Mr. Ostrowski was known for designing many homes on Staten Island. He also designed numerous bank vaults for popular branches in the area.
Nicknamed "Doc", after winning the 1967 Doc McCarthy Memorial Award for his golfing talent, the name became his signature trademark. He frequently captured Staten Island Advance golfing news headlines for his tournament play.
In his spare time, he enjoyed fly-fishing and family outings to the Adirondacks. He was also an avid fan of aviation and sported a collection of vintage model airplanes.
Mr. Ostrowski was a dedicated parishioner of St. Stanislaus Kostka Church, New Brighton, and heralded his Polish heritage, often wearing a Polish Eagle emblem on his attire.
He is survived by his wife, Josephine (nee Perkowski) of 66 years, and two daughters, Joanne and Christine, as well as four sons, James, Thomas, John, and Andrew. Also, nine grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. His younger sister, Emily, passed away on September 25th of this year.
"My father's life was one of self-sacrifice, dedication, and faith. He stood for the bedrock family ideals of cohesiveness, hard work ethic, and tradition. Our family has been blessed because of him", adds his son Andrew.
The funeral will be Tuesday from the Harmon Home for Funerals, West Brighton, with a Mass at 10 a.m. from St. Stanislaus Kostka Church. Burial will follow in St. Peter's Cemetery, West Brighton.
Eulogy
Get ready…to laugh!
Because my brothers and sisters and I have put together a small collection of sentimental favorites. Short stories which resonate in our minds.
We hope you like them…
Our first story comes from my brother Jim, who in his words tells us:
“I remember when I was around 9 years old, while on vacation at Twin Lakes, Pennsylvania one summer, we were out on the lake at dusk; dad was fishing for Largemouth Bass...he had many “Sports Afield” magazines that often pictured fish jumping 3 FEET above the lake’s surface when striking the lure...he had always repeatedly told me “it’s true, it’s true, wait and see, you’ll see someday”, etc., etc…
Well sure enough, he gets a strike and the fish SOARED above the water line, looked to be more than 3 feet, and landed with a mighty splash, proceeding to give my father the fight of a lifetime...but dad brought him in, a 6+ pound Largemouth Bass, which he gave to the hotel’s chef, and it was served to our table for supper that night (he of course didn’t eat any ...the only avid fisherman I ever knew who HATED fish!!...)
He had the hotel staff freeze the fish’s head, and he brought it home with intentions of mounting it on a plaque. To that end, he decided to put the head up in our backyard tree where “the flies can eat all the meat off the head, and just leave the skin and skull” said my dad.
Next morning…not a trace of the head could be seen, no doubt a tasty evening meal…for the local raccoon family!!”
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My sister Joanne recalls a more MELODIOUS story, and in her words:
“My earliest memories of my incredibly interesting father took place when I was very young. I often sat on his lap on the rocking chair while he sang to me a song, I don't know the name of it, but it went like this… (uh, and I’ll have to put on my Bobby Vinton imitation for this one) “Hush little JoJo don’t say a word, Daddy's gonna buy you a mocking bird, and if that mocking bird won’t sing, Daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring...” and so forth. I always told him ‘No other Daddies will come like that!’ a phrase that we said to each other through all the years which followed.”
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It’s almost Halloween, so what more appropriate story is there than my sister Chrissie’s epic tale of horror from years back when she says:
“When I was little, my leg got stuck in the porch railing between two wooden spokes. Dad said, ‘Somebody get a SAW’, and I screamed ‘DON’T CUT MY LEG OFF!”
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Next up is a foursome of short one-liners from my brother Tom, as he recalls:
· “Every time we dove into our pool, our father would say ‘TOO DEEP’.
· “Whenever it was time to go to bed, he would say to us “SPAĆ!”
· “When I had a catch with him in the backyard, he would throw his ‘SMOKEBALL’ so hard, that my hand would hurt.”
· “I caught my very first fish with him, but neither of us could remember if it was a CATFISH or a SUNFISH.”
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My brother John adds a short trilogy of stories when he says:
· “Daddy proudly told us that once, he went fly-fishing up at Martling's pond and caught about 40 Large Mouth Bass, and how we joked about how it was really probably just the same fish caught 40 times over and over again.”
· “When passing through the turnstiles on the Garden State Parkway while on our way to a day of crabbing, after he threw the toll in the collection basket, he commented on how much he would not have liked being that guy with the job of sitting inside that little basket collecting all those coins all day long.”
· “He used to tell everyone that the alligators that I once had, outgrew the tank I kept them in and became permanently HORSESHOE-SHAPED, and how they couldn't help but only to move around and around and around in a circle, even after being taken out and put on the ground.”
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This next story is one of my personal favorites:
Greenwood Avenue. Just up the road actually, not too far away. It’s a dead end street off of Forest Avenue, with the 5th hole of Silver Lake Golf course on one side of the street bordered by a chain-link fence. And I went up there the other day and...it’s still there. I walked through the SAME HOLE in the fence that my father took me through when I was about 15 years old. I had a shag bag full of golf balls and a 7-iron. And while I’d hit shots to the green, he BUSHWACKED for golf balls in the rough, always somehow finding that prized unblemished ball. And by the way, that golf ball that you took at the funeral parlor? That was one of those balls my father found.
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Get ready for this next story because it is...UNBELIEVABLE. When my father was about 17 years old, him and his buddy, are you ready for this? Actually swam across the Kill Van Kull! Now for those out-of-towners among us, the Kill Van Kull is the waterway between Staten Island and Bayonne, New Jersey, just down the block actually.
But that’s just HALF of the insanity. My father told us that the water was actually DIRTIER back then, than it is today, and, that while they were swimming, they had to push the (and I’ll use the politically correct term, “RAW SEWAGE” out of the way). Can you imagine the stuff bobbing up and down in the water, hitting them in the face as they swam? Unbelievable, but it’s true!
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The final story I’ll share with you today took place in pretty much the same location as that famous swim story we just heard about, which incidentally was most likely adjacent to the Gypsum plant where Dziadzia worked.
It was the fall of 1935, my father was 10 years old. A group of his friends, 10, 12 years old, went down to the train tracks to probably just bum around. And as you might be able to figure out, in that classic Hollywood scenario, no sooner does a train come ROARING around the bend while one kid happens to remain on the tracks playing with his toys. And as my father was telling me, it was a kid named Hubby Pakulniewicz, one of the older kids, who had the heads-up thinking to pull this kid off of the rail just in the nick of time, saving his life! It was a story of courage, a story of honor, and a story of bravery.
And there’s just one more thing to add to this story. That little kid who was left on the tracks, and whose life was saved that day, …that was Dan Ostrowski.
The Tranquilized Social
Have you ever noticed an oddity while attending a wake for a deceased elderly person? Who are those people kneeling at the casket and where have they been all these years, you may ask? Isn’t it sad that friends and relatives flock to pay their “respects” at a wake, as a dead body lies there filled with embalming fluid, yet hesitate to visit this person while they were alive and nearing death? Increasingly, wakes have become more of a “tranquilized social” where more focus is given to comforting the family rather than comforting the deceased when they were alive. I declare, who cares about what color tie matches your black suit, or whose car you’re following to the cemetery? If only we would pour our time and energy into cherishing an elderly individual while they are still alive, spending time and interacting with them.
Hot Dog
Well, he ate 19 hot dogs in 10 minutes but fell short, way short, of the new 2015 Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest winner who consumed a total of 62. Yes, the math is correct, but 30-year-old Brian “Dud Light” Dudzinski, who hails from Phoenixville, PA, couldn’t match the gastrointestinal fortitude of his rival, Matt Stonie, who ate more than three times the quantity, including buns on the annual 4th of July extravaganza held in Coney Island, NY. Said the 11th ranked Polish-American eater in the world on his Twitter page, “Nothing like going to bed with a full stomach”.
Dudzinski’s “rap sheet” of competitive eating includes edible feats of digesting 72 wings in 10 minutes at this year’s World Wing Eating Championship, 9 pounds of Boysenberry pie in 8 minutes at the World Pie Eating Championship, and 9.25 pints of ice cream in 6 minutes at the World Ice Cream Eating Championship. Now, if only Dudzinski would enter a kielbasa eating contest!
The Rite of Summer
On the subject of oldies, how often do you break out vintage photos, slides, and maybe even 8 mm tape to reminisce? I had a chance to do just that last week and came across a plethora of memories from an age of halcyon days. As I panned through a collection of Kodachrome slides, an overwhelming sense of heartfelt emotion came over me in realizing the richness and togetherness of, for instance, our family’s summer vacations to the Adirondacks. One slide pictured a ten-year old kid wearing a striped T-shirt and bellbottom jeans perched atop the stone wall surrounding Fort Ticonderoga. Yes, that was me. Big, bug-eyed sunglasses, short skirts, and sandals seemed to populate every picture that both my mother and sister were in. Families went everywhere together by station wagon or camper, it was a rite of summer. What ever happened to this rite? I don’t hear of today’s families packing the trunk and driving across New York State anymore, do you?
Heartbreaker
To top off that melancholy, perhaps we can conclude with a somewhat humorous heartbreaker, times two. A few days ago, as I was engaging in an evening cycling workout along the bike path navigating through Ft. Wadsworth military installation, two rather attractive women were cycling ahead of me. Of course, I instinctively increased my cadence for a closer look and upon doing so heard that familiar native tongue oh so pleasantly welcoming to me. They were speaking Polish. Without a doubt I rode up alongside and exclaimed to the first, “Dzień Dobry!” Umm, no response. Pedaling further, I then exclaimed to the second, “Dzień Dobry!!” And just as the sun broke through the clouds, “Dzień Dobry” she replied!
Unfortunately the story ends on a heartbreaker, or two, or perhaps three if you consider that coldly stopping for a heartfelt exchange of phone numbers with these two women would have plummeted my own heart rate monitor considerably, thereby nullifying my workout’s diastolic and systolic rate. Oh well, the perils of a pure Polish heart…
Please Keep Off the Grass
Washington, D.C. certainly captures the hearts of all Americans, from politics to paintings, and moon rocks to cherry blossoms, if you haven’t yet visited our nation’s capital you simply need to do so. While on a business trip recently, I found time to meander through this colossal town and all of its sites, including one housing a native Buffalo hero.
First, getting around D.C. is a breeze and very user-friendly. The metro rail is color-coded with easy to read maps of all the interesting stops such as the Smithsonian complex of museums, Arlington National Cemetery, and of course the White House. One of my first stops was a visit to the Air and Space Museum, however it was closed at 7:30 p.m.
However, at about 8 p.m., I noticed the doors being opened and a bunch of sophisticated, well-dressed people being allowed in. Too tempting to bypass, I combed my hair, tightened my tie and simply tagged along in line, only to be greeted by champagne cocktails and caviar as well as a potpourri of delectable dishes being played to the tunes of a hip band blasting the night away. This event was clearly reserved for wealthy donors, and so I acted suave and proceeded to tour the entire museum.
The next evening, after seeing a play at Ford’s Theater where I sat just ten feet from the box where Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, I probed my way through narrow passages around the back of the theater where the public never goes, to find the exact alley where John Wilkes Booth mounted his horse en-route to his getaway. Incredible, all the original bricks are still in place, and as a light rain began to fall, here I was standing solo with my mouth open in awe.
Later on I strolled in Lafayette Square on the north side of the White House and discovered none other than Tadeusz Kościuszko mounted high for all to see. It was a glorious tribute to our Revolutionary War hero and I was proud that the statue is clearly noticeable with large inscription for passers-by to see.
Our feminine readers may especially be interested in one of the largest diamonds on public display at the Natural History Museum, called the Hope Diamond. With super-sensitive security measures in place, I’m not sure if even the “Pink Panther” would want to attempt its theft.
If you’d like to climb to the top of the infamous Washington Monument, you’d better get to the ticket booth at around 5 a.m. for the day’s daily free-ticket giveaway. By 5:15, tickets are all gone. The next available reserved ticket date is two months from now.
I also enjoyed an evening visit to see my cousin Mary and her husband Phil, who live just outside of the city. You may recall the Am-Pol Eagle article published a few months ago featuring Mary’s Madame Curie connection. We rekindled some memories and spoke of Washington’s greatest spectacles, one of which being Arlington National Cemetery.
Before my trip, I had a chance to plot out the gravesites of several notable people. With over 400,000 people buried there, the task of finding them was challenging enough. Huge, hilly terrain greets the visitor who is left in absolute astonishment at the complexity of this place. My first destination was the tomb of John F. Kennedy. Of course, all I needed to do was follow the crowd. Probably the most popular of spots together with the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, JFK’s tomb basks in the hot sun atop a hill.
Next, Section 3 held Astronauts Roger Chaffee and Gus Grissom, both of whom I featured in one of my first short stories written in 1975. However, due to time constraints, I was unable to hike the distance to see these two graves. I did spot Audie Murphy right at the edge of Section 46 though.
“At the edge” had no such luck for my final destination gravesite though. You see I saved the most revered for last, figuring to exit on the setting sun with some reflections appropriate for the moment. However, when I arrived at the small, serene, and picturesque section 7A under an umbrella of trees, I was greeted by a chained-off area and signpost saying “Please keep off the grass”.
Well, you might have guessed that I didn’t come all this way only to use the zoom feature of my camera. So, with no one in sight, and hearing only melodious songbirds above, I respectfully applied dignity in hitting the grass on all fours as I snuck up to the foot of the huge, bronze-colored gravestone of Matt Urban. What an absolutely wonderful sight. Urban’s stone sticks out very noticeably among the others, and is etched with gold leaf as well as a portrait image. He would have liked this spot indeed. And you know, even if I saw Arlington’s infantry coming to escort me from that grassy spot, I think I would have just stayed and listened to the birds.
The Right of your Pet Poodle
Yes, an appropriate title to our next topic, that being the recent comments made by Fr. Mitch Pacwa on his television program, EWTN Live. As you may know, I have strong admiration for this Jesuit priest. But as you may also know, this website holds fast to a point-blank philosophy regardless of favoritism. On that note, it wasn’t surprising to detect an absolute uproar from animal rights proponents, including myself, after hearing Fr. Pacwa’s doctrinal “exegesis” that animals don’t have rights, nor do they have immortal souls “like humans do” as he specified.
My sincere apologies, but this is a highly consequential topic which needs to be carefully criticized. To begin with, animal rights activists are not primarily seeking legal measures to protect animals, but instead are focused on establishing a societal-mindset of compassion, something that has not yet reached maturity since we are still eating animals, wearing their skin, and experimenting on them.
Secondly, who is to say that only humans have rights? Of what authority can one make such a definitive statement, even further exacerbated by stating definitively that humans have immortal souls and animals do not? Rather, can’t we be honest in admitting that life and death are a mystery? This brings the point to its ultimate crescendo. By the very nature of their job, the foundation of any religious steward such as Fr. Pacwa is grounded not in tangible fact, but in the mystery of faith. Wouldn’t it be ironic for such a person to then proclaim a monopoly on the truth? More on this topic can be found on the Animal Friendly section.
Snap-Brims and Bowties
Senior readers may have noticed a metamorphosis in gentlemen’s apparel over the past 60 to 70 years, and are probably shaking their heads in disgust. What ever happened to the pinched front fedora, the bowtie, and the double-breasted suit? Being a fan of the eight-panel newsboy cap worn during the Depression era, I’ve searched high and low for this antique only to find cheap imports attempting to fit the bill.
Fortunately, while surfing the Amazon marketplace, I came across a solo vendor offering authentic, handmade linen eight-panel caps circa 1930. You know, the kind that cover your eyebrows and droop over your ear making you look like a mobster. Needless to say I bought two. But such good fortune cannot be found in the suit department. After searching all the retailers like J.C. Penny, Men’s Wearhouse, Macy’s, Joseph A. Bank, and a host of others, I returned home somewhat heartbroken realizing that the suavelooking double-breasted men’s suit cannot be found on the racks anymore.
Snap-brim fedoras, yes, they still sell them. But when was the last time you saw a gentleman formally dressed from head to toe? Instead, today’s average businessman sports the trendy skinny suit jacket, dungaree pants, thin necktie, and sandals. I am united with our senior-most readers as we wonder what the silver-screen icon, Adolphe Menjou, who was voted the best-dressed man that ever lived, would say about all this?
A Song to Remember
Let’s start things off this week on a musical note, shall we say, in the key of C? Am-Pol Eagle senior readers and aficionados of the silver screen will appreciate the 1945 classic “A Song to Remember” which aired last week on the Movies network channel. The scene opens on a rainy evening in Żelazowa Wola, and as the camera pans around a simple country home, a young virtuoso is seen playing the piano. That of course was our beloved Frédéric Chopin.
My very first glimpse of the film I’m ashamed to say, as it was only then that I realized what an absolute delight it was to watch. As the film progressed, the boy became a man, played by none other than Cornel Wilde, who for the most part did a convincing job synchronizing his fingers on keyboard to the actual notes being heard.
Ah, yet Wilde’s hair was just too curly for the role, wouldn’t you agree? The famous Paul Muni played the part of Chopin’s mentor, Józef Elsner, who travels to Paris with the pianist looking for success. And what would a "colorized" film-noire classic be without a leading lady? You guessed it, Chopin’s real-life relationship with the eccentric Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin, or better known as French novelist George Sand, played by the radiant Merle Oberon, who incidentally looked exactly like Sand.
A pretty good film? "A Song to Remember" was nominated for Best Actor in a Leading Role (Cornel Wilde), Best Cinematography, Best Film Editing, Best Music Scoring, Best Sound Recording, and Best Writing.
Thirty-One Faces of the Matka Boska
May is one fine month indeed. Flowers are blooming, daylight is lengthening, and many folks reach for a new pair of polarized sunglasses. Still, there is one constant that appropriately rings in this merry month, and that is the image of Mary, Mother of God.
I had a chance to peruse just a couple of icons of Our Lady which surround my writing desk at my home office. To my right, the Matka Boska Ostrobramska, a gift given to me by a visiting friend from Warsaw. It is beautifully crafted of silver plating over a hand painted wooden face, backed in red velvet.
Interestingly, the Ostrobramska image is associated with the feast we just celebrated a couple of weeks ago, Divine Mercy. Saint Faustina wrote in her diary of the icon taking on "a living appearance" and speaking to her, telling her to "accept all that God asked of me like a little child, without questioning…"
To my left, a one-of-a-kind carved image of Mary which I picked up in a little side street shop in Łowicz, Poland some years back. Of course, with only embroidery in mind as I shopped, being that the town is famous for this, I was taken back a bit upon hearing from the vendor that this light-as-a-feather item was entirely made from the ashes of burnt cinders.
Glancing further around and peeking into some drawers, I was sure to locate one image of Mary for each of the 31 days of May. I’m sure you can do the same. With the month of Mary here, do you have a favorite among the many faces of the Matka Boska in your own little collection?
The Two Coach K Connection
I watched, you watched, the whole world watched. Last month's dramatic conclusion to the NCAA Championship was a sheer nail-biter. Duke University, beginning to fade late in the game, miraculously rebounded from nine points down and only thirteen minutes left to pull ahead of an astonished University of Wisconsin team in a thrilling victory for coach Mike Krzyzewski, popularly known as 'Coach K.'
Yes, you know him already, but did you know the little secret of the other coach K? When University of Utah coach Larry Krystkowiak spotted Krzyzewski in a 7-Eleven convenience store last summer, oh yes, some rekindling too place. "I said, hey there's the real Coach K," Krystkowiak noted, "Kinda gave him a high-five." Both go by the iconic label 'Coach K', which Krzyzewski gladly shares while Krystkowiak gladly surrenders.
Krzyzewski did acknowledge that his cloned 'K', Krystkowiak, carried a sign of Polish royalty being that the first vowel in his name comes after six consonants, which trumps Krzyzewski. And, Krystkowiak acknowledged his admiration for Krzyzewski in keeping his potential spelling bee name intact. The two Ks also talked about their humble beginnings, and their careers. "I love what you've done at Utah, it reminds me so much of my career," said Krzyzewski. And Krystkowiak’s response, "Wow."
The 7 Last Words of Christ
Indeed an entire book could be written about the final phrases spoken by Christ as he hung on the cross. But these seven "one-liners", as many scholars and historians agree, were not said by Christ to be exclusively meditated on Good Friday, but in addition to their superficial meaning, instead have deeper significance and relevance to everyday life. Keep in mind too that the number 7 has always stood for perfection, so was it mere coincidence that Christ spoke 7 phrases just before his death? What were his intentions? Who did he want to target with his words? Think about it. If you were dying, rather than only focus on that particular moment, would you not wish to also convey your words to reflect a broader scope of things? Whereas some would suggest that Christ's ministry ended with his Passion, AndrewOstrowski.com would respectfully disagree. It is this website's opinion that Christ's ministry did not in fact end before his trial and crucifixion, that if you really look at the heart of why he existed, the very pinnacle of his ministry should be his ordeal during the Passion. Here's why. Is his death not the ultimate reason why he came? You can put aside all the good stuff like miracle working and parable telling, essentially he came because we are bad. That was the reason. If we weren't bad, why would God incarnate into flesh and come at all? There would be no reason to come. Too many people don't realize that, thinking salvation comes from merely being a nice person and seeking to do good, but forgetting that they are born with a tendency to sin. Only after you realize the reason why Christ came and then honestly acknowledge that you are weak and susceptible to sin, do you then realize that these seven last words are critical to saving yourself. Let's condense our would-be 'book' into a summary of what exactly Christ meant by giving us his seven last words.
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do"
The obvious conclusion most people make is straightforward: Christ is petitioning the Father to forgive his torturers because they don't realize what they're doing by crucifying him. In the "know not what they do" part, Christ is not referring to the superficial fact of him being executed by the Romans, an innocent man, as would be the case with any innocent man, but rather he is referring to mankind. Was it not his own people who handed him over to be crucified? Is it not us who continue to "crucify" him by our thoughts and actions? Yet, he is petitioning the Father to forgive them, and subsequently, to forgive us. Do we make use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, for example?
"I assure you, this day you will be with me in paradise"
Very arguably quite symbolic are the circumstances surrounding this next expression. Christ was crucified with two thieves, one to his right, called Dismas, the other to his left, called Gestas. When Gestas criticizes Christ by looking for proof in telling him to save himself and them, Dismas offers the opposite by asking Christ to remember him in his kingdom. Interestingly, Gestas may therefore represent the bad in us, while Dismas represents the good in us. Do these two thieves on opposite sides of Christ, physically and spiritually, portray the entire story of mankind? Yes. We therefore have a choice. As explained above, knowing that we are born to sin, do we stay the course like Gestas did, or instead choose to put our faith in God like Dismas did?
"There is your son, there is your mother"
Even only moments away from death, Christ is still thinking of our well-being. In this expression, he establishes the apostle John as the new "son" of his mother Mary, and Mary as the new "mother" of John. Two points to make here, first, we need to remember that in biblical days, the designations of brother, sister, son, daughter, mother, father, etc. were not necessarily biological, but could also imply a closeness of affection. Christ obviously did not mean that John and Mary were to establish legal adoption status with each other, what he did mean was to point out that all of his followers, represented by John, are first to look to their mothers in recognition of life, and second, incidentally where we run into arguments between faiths, that his followers are to regard Mary as the supreme example of obedience in carrying out God's will. For Christ to specifically tell John "there is your mother" just moments before his own death clearly implies that he is relaying more than comforting words, but a significant directive. And who could be more approachable than a woman of the flesh just like you and me, but spared from sin thank God, who we can come to with all our troubles?
"Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani"
Or, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Indeed, arguably the most controversial and puzzling phrase Christ utters from the cross. Most people would ask: How could Christ, who is supposed to be God, ever think that his Father had forsaken him, that doesn't make sense? A noble conclusion, but, there is a reason why Christ uttered these words. Perhaps it may be easier to realize if we take an alternate approach; let's propose that Christ was purely divine and not of the flesh as we know it. Of course, the obvious conclusion would be, he would have been impervious to pain, guilt, fear, and rejection. Would you care at all if you were the "six million dollar man" with a bionic body and someone tried to pick a fistfight with you? No. But then, how would you know pain, guilt, fear, and rejection if you couldn't relate to them yourself? And how could people relate to you? This is essentially why God incarnated into Christ, so we could relate to him. It's no wonder then why Christ, as any human would do, questioned his own being, even though he was also divine. Don't we all lose faith at times?
"I thirst"
This two word phrase is a direct fulfillment of Psalm 69:22. Quenching one's thirst is usually associated with someone who has expended an amount of energy and is in need of a refresher. So was the case with Christ, however, rather than being refreshed, he was offered vinegar. Again, we see the human side of Christ instinctively seeking to save itself as we all would do. It is interesting to conclude that it was up to us to alleviate his suffering somewhat by giving him a "refreshing drink", but we didn't. Do we still offer him “vinegar”?
"Father, into your hands, I commit my spirit"
The act of total submission. Here we see Christ, who could have easily opted not to say anything in the state he was in, utter words of dependence on the Father. He surrenders himself to the Father, as opposed to, for example, those who want some kind of assurance from God that they lived a holy life thereby justifying their soul's destiny. For what reward would there be if we knew for sure that Christ was God? Yet, there are some faiths even today that require proof in order to put their faith in someone. Christ answers the ultimate question on this point. He surrenders his soul, not knowing the outcome, but trusting that his life's work will justify its destiny. Does your own life justify your soul's destiny?
"It is finished"
The final three words spoken by Christ before his death and resurrection. Clearly this expression sums up the entirety of his whole mission. "It" meaning that mission. These three words are actually loaded with importance. By declaring that his mission is finished, Christ is establishing that he indeed had a purpose in life, and contrary to what people want to hear and what sounds nice, his mission is over. Where people miss the point on this is that they think they are being benevolent by stating that Christ's mission never really ended, that he still continues his ministry to us from heaven. Although on the surface that sounds like a nice thing to say, in actually it is an injustice to Christ. What meaning would his life's end have if he did not impart his mission onto us and we just depended on him for everything as many people do? Rather, we need to come to grips with the fact that Christ completed his job, now he has his reward. What was his job? To show you how to attain salvation. Now it is your job to do it. What are you waiting for?
Fourteen Lenten Meditations
In 2003, I had the opportunity to attend the Via Crucis in Rome, presided over by then Pope John Paul II. The following are excerpted quotes of his meditations along with my reflections, and the Lord’s Prayer in Latin. Many churches carry out the Stations of the Cross weekly during Lent. Clip the page and save it, as a plenary indulgence may be gained by praying them.
I. JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH – “Pilate's verdict was pronounced under pressure from the priests and the crowd. The sentence of death by crucifixion was meant to calm their fury and meet their clamorous demand of Crucify him! Crucify him!” Ask yourself, how often have you too been scourged for defending what is right and unpopular?
Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum; adveniat regnum tuum; fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra. Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie; et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris; et ne nos inducas in tentationem; sed libera nos a malo.
II. JESUS CARRIES HIS CROSS – “Pilate said to the crowd: ‘Ecce Homo, look what you have done to this man!’ But there seems to be another voice speaking as well, saying: Look what you have done, in this man, to your God!” Let’s be truthful, do you find yourself going along with the crowd on issues like abortion and contraception, or do you resist giving in to “the popular vote?” Pater noster…
III. JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME – “To the end, down to the bitter end, he is faithful to what he had said: ‘Not my will, but yours be done.’” Are you willing to expend your energy and fall down in defense of Christ because of controversy, rejection, or unpopularity? Pater noster…
IV. JESUS MEETS HIS AFFLICTED MOTHER – “His Cross becomes her Cross, his humiliation is her humiliation, the public scorn is on her shoulders.” When was the last time you examined your life and asked, would my mother be proud of me, am I doing things according to God’s will? Pater noster…
V. SIMON OF CYRENE IS FORCED TO HELP CARRY THE CROSS – “How long did he continue to walk beside this condemned man, all the while making it clear that he had nothing in common with him, nothing to do with his crime, nothing to do with his punishment?” Simon was forced. Are you forced to “carry a cross” or do you volunteer? Pater noster…
VI. VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS – “In fact the Savior leaves his imprint on every single act of charity, as he did on Veronica's cloth.” How many times have you passed by a homeless person asking for spare change? Pater noster…
VII. JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME – “I am a worm, and no man (Ps 22:6). Not even an Ecce Homo here, but something much less, much worse.” This station marks where Jesus’ death notice was posted. What do you want your own death notice, or obituary, to say when it’s published in the newspaper? Pater noster…
VIII. JESUS MEETS THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM – “Here is a call to repentance, true repentance, and sorrow at the reality of the evil that has been committed.” He tells them to weep for their children, meaning your children and future generations. Do you have a “lost” child? What are you doing about it? Pater noster…
IX. JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME – “Every station along this Way is a milestone of obedience and self-emptying.” Do you empty yourself of the world and fall down completely, or find yourself halfway there on one knee because “who can do such a thing?” as Lazarus said. Pater noster…
X. JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS – “A person’s body is the expression of their soul.” When channel surfing, do you change the television channel when you come across movies displaying nudity and encouraging sins of the flesh? Pater noster…
XI. JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS – “The whole of this body, its hands, its feet, its every bone, is a priceless ransom.” Are you willing to ransom your body by having symbolic “nail holes” in your hands and in your feet? Pater noster…
XII. JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS – “Here we have the greatest, the most sublime work of the Son in union with the Father. Yes, in union, in the most perfect union possible.” Point blank, this means his death, crafted by the Father, was the ultimate goal, that being to conquer sin through salvation. Why then do you hesitate to go to confession? Pater noster…
XIII. JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS – “In the mystery of the Redemption, we are enriched by a gift from on high and at the same time ‘bought’ by the ransom paid by the Son of God.” Look at your life and ask yourself, are you worth the ransom paid? Pater noster…
XIV. JESUS IS PLACED IN THE SEPULCHER – “From the moment when man, as a result of sin, was driven away from the Tree of Life, the earth became a burial ground. A great planet of tombs.” Yet, that tree still exists. We can find it through Reconciliation, the Eucharist, and a sincere inner desire to seek it out. Pater noster...
Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus…Amen.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1
5, 4, 3, 2, 1…Happy New Year! Of course, virtually everyone everywhere welcomed in 2015 with bright cheer and a smile as it should be, however for some one million or so screaming heads who once again situated themselves rump-to-rump while standing in the arctic zone of Times Square for hours on end to watch the ball drop beckons a fair degree of critique. You know, I’m wondering if these same people would be willing to devote a tenth as much effort to spirituality. The philosophical question we should be asking is why are more and more people willing to brave the yearly secular “cold” while reluctantly devoting less and less time to matters of the everlasting inner soul? It is a ridiculously sad irony, and I invite you to ponder on it.
What about the butterfly?
Will you be reunited with your pet in heaven? After an enormous amount of effort in correcting their misinterpreted news story about Pope Francis’ recent remarks on the topic, it appears most of the news media still consider the idea ridiculous. How unfortunate, and rather feeble-minded to do so. Was it not St. Francis who spent an inordinate amount of time caring for these creatures? Was he just wasting his time? Or Pope Paul VI, was he just kidding around when he said “One day we will see our animals in the eternity of Christ”? Or how about our own beloved St. John Paul II when he stated that “animals possess a soul and men must love and feel solidarity with our smaller brethren”? Is not everything possible with God?
The bigger issue may be, if one accepts the idea of a pet soul, what about a little girl’s pet butterfly, or a little boy’s pet goldfish? Should there be a line drawn as to what degree of life merits a soul, and who draws it?
In my opinion, no line should be drawn, but rather, all life continues down to the smallest form. A wild notion? Not if we truly believe that all things are possible with God. If only we would be more like Copernicus in being brave enough to broach moral issues of higher consequence instead of continuing to live in a bubble.
Read why you’ll see your beloved pets, and surprisingly more, in the article titled Do Animals Have Souls?
Fireside Classics!
“I mean Pottersville, don’t you think I know where I live?!” exclaims a fedora-topped gentleman to a bewildered Jimmy Stewart who has just crashed into a tree.
In this month's new topic, we’ll take a look at some of the heartwarming classics appearing on your television screen over the next several days. Beloved, adored, and cherished by families everywhere who know how to prepare for Christmas along with baking, decorating, gift-giving, and ultimately climaxing with the Nativity Mass.
Who among us hasn’t seen the 1946 classic It’s a Wonderful Life? Of course, no creature on Earth has missed it! But is there really a town named after the richest and meanest man in the film, Henry F. Potter played by the great Lionel Barrymore? Surprisingly, the answer is yes!
Pottersville is located about one hundred miles north of Albany. Of course, its name origins aren’t that rich and mean. Stewart’s role as George Bailey is no less than brilliantly performed from the moment he accepts a piece of luggage courtesy of old-man Gower played by H.B. Warner, to the film’s penultimate climax as tears run down his eyes anticipating suicide on a snowy bridge.
Producer Frank Capra’s film had never struck a favorable cord with the public audience until much later, and as you know today the film is a holiday gem.
“I thought you said one hundred soldiers at six-foot high” responds Stannie Dum to Santa who’s children’s toy-soldier order got kind of flipped around. Had it not been for Stan Laurel’s foolish character we would have never wholeheartedly enjoyed the film Babes in Toyland or better known as March of the Wooden Soldiers. What a delight, as I’m sure you agree.
This 1934 classic sports the typical Laurel and Hardy slapstick along a diabolical storyline featuring Mother Goose, Little Bo Peep, and Tom-Tom the Piper’s son. Reflecting on this film, one cannot help but imagine such a fairytale village existing somewhere, someplace, and unspoiled by man. Maybe that’s why we love watching it. Only, how did they ever manage to fire a cannon-load of darts into the rear-end of Ollie Dee? Very funny indeed!
One of my personal all-time favorites, even now as I sprout a gray hair or two, is the 1970 animated delight, Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town. Hands-down, this is the real story of secular Santa Claus! Narrated by the legendary Fred Astaire and starring the voice of the late Mickey Rooney as Kris Kringle, the fantasy takes us to Sombertown, incidentally that town name is still available, where Kringle discovers that toys are forbidden.
Well, you can imagine the plot, as Santa eventually discovers a way to deliver Elf-made toys via Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer by secretly flying onto rooftops and then crawling down chimneys to fill stockings. I still pin my stockings up, do you? Cuddle up with your kids one frosty night and enjoy this film.
If anyone tells you that you might be an “undigested bit of beef, a piece of cheese, or a fragment of an underdone potato” as Alastair Sim told the ghost of Jacob Marley, rattle your shackles and shake your chains. The 1951 version of Charles Dickens’ holiday tale, A Christmas Carol, has decidedly become the world’s favorite. Sim portrays the character of Ebenezer Scrooge perfectly.
But we need to be fair in recognizing a few earlier versions of near-equal ranking, namely the 1935 classic Scrooge starring Seymour Hicks and an invisible Jacob Marley as well as the 1938 rival A Christmas Carol starring Reginald Owen and the very pretty former New York resident Lynne Carver who unfortunately passed away at just 38 years old.
Newer versions have come and gone of course, including attempts by George C. Scott, Henry Winkler, and Bill Murray all playing a rendition of Scrooge. One notable contender for the crown must go to Patrick Stewart’s 1999 release. In my opinion it is the best modern day remake of the tale, as a bald-headed grump almost chokes from his new-found laughter at film’s end.
Yet sitting on my desk is a newly discovered version, albeit from 1954, starring the familiar face of Basil Rathbone, with a musical score by the great Bernard Hermann. The DVD was purchased from Kmart.com for less than four dollars and is still in its wrapper. Coming over to watch it?
Only if it snows that is, as we can begin things by watching Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney in that forever-favorite, White Christmas.
“I mean Pottersville, don’t you think I know where I live?!” exclaims a fedora-topped gentleman to a bewildered Jimmy Stewart who has just crashed into a tree.
In this month's new topic, we’ll take a look at some of the heartwarming classics appearing on your television screen over the next several days. Beloved, adored, and cherished by families everywhere who know how to prepare for Christmas along with baking, decorating, gift-giving, and ultimately climaxing with the Nativity Mass.
Who among us hasn’t seen the 1946 classic It’s a Wonderful Life? Of course, no creature on Earth has missed it! But is there really a town named after the richest and meanest man in the film, Henry F. Potter played by the great Lionel Barrymore? Surprisingly, the answer is yes!
Pottersville is located about one hundred miles north of Albany. Of course, its name origins aren’t that rich and mean. Stewart’s role as George Bailey is no less than brilliantly performed from the moment he accepts a piece of luggage courtesy of old-man Gower played by H.B. Warner, to the film’s penultimate climax as tears run down his eyes anticipating suicide on a snowy bridge.
Producer Frank Capra’s film had never struck a favorable cord with the public audience until much later, and as you know today the film is a holiday gem.
“I thought you said one hundred soldiers at six-foot high” responds Stannie Dum to Santa who’s children’s toy-soldier order got kind of flipped around. Had it not been for Stan Laurel’s foolish character we would have never wholeheartedly enjoyed the film Babes in Toyland or better known as March of the Wooden Soldiers. What a delight, as I’m sure you agree.
This 1934 classic sports the typical Laurel and Hardy slapstick along a diabolical storyline featuring Mother Goose, Little Bo Peep, and Tom-Tom the Piper’s son. Reflecting on this film, one cannot help but imagine such a fairytale village existing somewhere, someplace, and unspoiled by man. Maybe that’s why we love watching it. Only, how did they ever manage to fire a cannon-load of darts into the rear-end of Ollie Dee? Very funny indeed!
One of my personal all-time favorites, even now as I sprout a gray hair or two, is the 1970 animated delight, Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town. Hands-down, this is the real story of secular Santa Claus! Narrated by the legendary Fred Astaire and starring the voice of the late Mickey Rooney as Kris Kringle, the fantasy takes us to Sombertown, incidentally that town name is still available, where Kringle discovers that toys are forbidden.
Well, you can imagine the plot, as Santa eventually discovers a way to deliver Elf-made toys via Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer by secretly flying onto rooftops and then crawling down chimneys to fill stockings. I still pin my stockings up, do you? Cuddle up with your kids one frosty night and enjoy this film.
If anyone tells you that you might be an “undigested bit of beef, a piece of cheese, or a fragment of an underdone potato” as Alastair Sim told the ghost of Jacob Marley, rattle your shackles and shake your chains. The 1951 version of Charles Dickens’ holiday tale, A Christmas Carol, has decidedly become the world’s favorite. Sim portrays the character of Ebenezer Scrooge perfectly.
But we need to be fair in recognizing a few earlier versions of near-equal ranking, namely the 1935 classic Scrooge starring Seymour Hicks and an invisible Jacob Marley as well as the 1938 rival A Christmas Carol starring Reginald Owen and the very pretty former New York resident Lynne Carver who unfortunately passed away at just 38 years old.
Newer versions have come and gone of course, including attempts by George C. Scott, Henry Winkler, and Bill Murray all playing a rendition of Scrooge. One notable contender for the crown must go to Patrick Stewart’s 1999 release. In my opinion it is the best modern day remake of the tale, as a bald-headed grump almost chokes from his new-found laughter at film’s end.
Yet sitting on my desk is a newly discovered version, albeit from 1954, starring the familiar face of Basil Rathbone, with a musical score by the great Bernard Hermann. The DVD was purchased from Kmart.com for less than four dollars and is still in its wrapper. Coming over to watch it?
Only if it snows that is, as we can begin things by watching Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney in that forever-favorite, White Christmas.
One God, One Lifeboat
Channel surfing for interesting television shows is an enjoyable hobby of mine. However there is nothing more disenchanting than watching preachers from one faith belief after another proclaim their monopoly on the truth. Don’t you find it odd that, living in a predominantly monotheistic world, there are approximately 4,200 different religions?
That is, if so many people believe in one God and an afterlife, knowing that death is inevitable, why in the world should we all have uniquely separate beliefs? Is this to say that, in heaven, the Buddhists are in one section, the Hindus in another, those of the Jewish faith are in that corner, the Muslim another, and over there are the Christians, further dissected by the Catholics in section A and the Protestants in section B, further sub-sectioned by the Evangelicals, Methodists, Baptists, and the other 33,817 denominations in their own separate sections? And this is God’s fully-approved plan? This is absolutely nonsensical thinking at its best!
Yet, this is what we do. We stake claims in different faiths, doing it perhaps more robotically than consciously. How many of us merely follow protocol and pay lip service to our faith, never really thinking “outside the box” of the greatest mystery yet remaining, the afterlife? We are all in the same lifeboat, why should we create divisions among us? Perhaps if we closed our eyes for five minutes and considered this, we’d then be able to see.
Questionable Clairvoyants
I’m scratching my head as you might also be, having seen several television episodes of real-life paranormal encounters. In one show, a medium supernaturally communicates with dead people, asking them family-related questions and relaying the answers to a homeowner seeking to find explanations of alleged disturbances. I have to say, I do believe hauntings, ghosts, and goblins exist. After all, why should we doubt them if we claim to believe in an afterlife? What perplexes the objective viewer however, and casting doubts on the authenticity of the medium, is the fact that none of these clairvoyants ask the dead people about heaven, Christ, and the other 10,000 questions most of us have about life after death. If you could talk to your deceased relative, what question would you ask?
That Thumb Thing
Let’s begin on a very serious note, and one that continues to capture our attention from day to day, that of course being the escalating threat posed by ISIS. We have to applaud President Obama’s efforts in allying several Arab nations in the air assault began recently, which is pretty monumental. Yet, what nation wants to remain idle when this new cancer, manifesting as sort of a cross between the Vietcong and Nazi mindset, continues to spread with a now reported 250,000 count refugee exodus?
If you recall the touching scene from the film Apollo 13, when Tom Hanks spots the earth from space and puts his thumb up to the window of the spacecraft only to find it is the same size as our planet, doesn’t this whole war and the rest of our problems make you feel a bit embarrassed? For years, sci-fi films have portrayed aliens as naked, big-eyed, highly intellectual and advanced beings living together as one on their planet. Too bad we missed the lesson, as here we are continuing to kill one another in war, climbing corporate ladders in greed, cheating, stealing, deceiving, and competing in our mano-a-mano, winner-take-all world. Maybe we should all take a trip to space and do that “thumb thing”.
65!
Hope. Now there’s a word making these headlines a month ago and here’s the rest of that story. I’ll begin with a hint which our senior most married couples may appreciate. What’s better than a golden 50th but perhaps a notch below a diamond 75th? Of course, a 65th wedding anniversary! My parents, Daniel and Josephine Ostrowski celebrated the occasion on June 22 beginning with a concelebrated high Mass at St. Stanislaus Kostka church here on Staten Island. The Reverends Jacek Wozny and Louis Jerome presided as wedding vows were renewed in front of a churchload of family and friends. Of course, arranging the hymns was quite a task having numerous Polish selections to choose. But we seemed to cover the spectrum ranging from the tranquility of Serdeczna Matko to the vociferous Sto Lat. Mendelssohn’s wedding march ended the beautiful ceremony as Danny and Jozia walked down the aisle to a cheering congregation.
Afterwards, a grand reception was held in their home to the tastes of a dining room table full of Polish delights such as fresh and smoked kielbasa, gołąbki, placki, croquettes, and three types of pierogi. We can’t forget the Żywiec of course! And after a champagne toast, out came the cake. White whipped cream with red roses was an appropriate color combination, wouldn’t you say? Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the occasion under gorgeous skies and some familiar Polish melodies played by an accordionist!
Concluding our story from last time, my effort at securing a Polish pianist for the reception was successful, but at the last minute she needed to attend to an urgent matter so did not come. However, all hope was not lost. In true Polish spirit, she asked an accordionist-friend to come in her place, and he did. He played wonderfully, interacted with the guests, and harmonized the voices in song. Yet, the story ends on an even more honorable note, and perhaps one that only we Poles can relate to. When given a monetary gift at the conclusion of the day, Zbigniew Wanielista, a plumber by trade with a wife and two children in school who plays the accordion as a hobby, very politely refused. His explanation ran along the lines of it being “a favor for a friend,” but the humble, family oriented look in his eyes really told the hidden truth. I guess this needs no explanation, right? Tell me, why aren’t there more people like this in the world? Check out these two videos...
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The Big Band Bombshell
Having seen The Glenn Miller Story airing on the TCM channel, a favorite among our senior readers, I was astonished at how similar Jimmy Stewart resembles the musical genius Miller. If you’ve seen the film, it is a delightful glimpse into an age long gone, so much so that I was reminded of being looked at oddly by a suit salesman when I asked to try on a double-breasted suit with sharp pointed lapels. Though the once classy art-deco look has since died, except in our dreams perhaps, I was particularly flabbergasted afterwards upon learning the details of Glenn Miller’s death. As he was flying over the English Channel at the required low altitude, a squadron of British bombers was returning from a mission over Germany, however, still carrying a substantial load of bombs. Standard procedure was to first drop the load over water in order to ensure a safe landing. Unfortunately, Miller’s plane was directly below the drop and got hit. Unbelievably sad.
Proof Positive for a Centenarian + 3
We continue on a sad note, yet ultimately our sadness turns to joy. After 103 years on Earth, Sister Mary Margaret Perkowski, a Felician sister who was also my aunt, passed away quietly one recent morning. As I was scrubbing the sidewalls of my backyard pool that morning just before refilling it with fresh water, the sun popped out through the early morning cloud cover just as the phone rang. It was the mother superior of the convent located in Enfield, CT, relaying the news. Apparently Sister Margaret, as she was known, felt a bit on the weak side a day earlier, and then after breakfast that morning had fallen and bruised her head. As our senior readers know, injury caused by a fall of an elderly person is magnified exponentially. A few hours later, Sister Margaret passed away in her bed.
Some years back I had a chance to tour the convent and its claim to fame, a basement bakery presided over by a very tiny nun who begins baking babki precisely at 3 a.m. It was truly an experience learning the “ropes” of how to bake babki, the old-fashioned wooden spoon mixing technique, how to set your watch to the rise of the dough, and a perfect packing plan for shipping their specialty worldwide. The Felician sisters are located across the U.S. and overseas, and have provincial houses in Warsaw, Krakow, and Przemysl, Poland.
But aside from the edible delight, the real joy comes from knowing that Sister Margaret, born Pauline Perkowski in Elm Park, Staten Island is undoubtedly now amidst the heavenly realm in all its splendor. Dedicating one’s life to God’s service in the manner that she did as a sister, with her warm smile and amicable heart simply cannot be topped. About 15 years ago she expressed a burning desire to finally see the Holy Land by coming with me on one of my trips. Unfortunately during the months preceding she became increasingly immobile and therefore never got to fulfill her dream. That episode crossed my mind, and I have come to the earnest conclusion that she now is seeing everything that she longed for. As Psalm 30 puts it so aptly, “At nightfall weeping enters in, but with dawn comes rejoicing.” That sure is proof-positive we’re learning!
The Swiss Sugar-Coat Connection
On the political agenda, perhaps we should be asking the question, and simultaneously starting an argument, is the United States-Polish relationship being sugar-coated? It seems to me that in light of the rather tumultuous ongoings of Vladimir Putin and his annexation desires, parading the presidential mantra of “Poland will never stand alone!” first through the streets and then subsequently through the inner minds of Poles with some kind of assurance that the United States will never, ever let that happen to Poland is simply in need of a reality check.
As fellow Am-Pol Eagle journalist and Warsaw correspondent Robert Strybel very aptly pointed out, a $1 billion pledge cannot compare to a $10 billion need. The flip-flop reversal of Bush’s anti-missile policy by Obama speaks for itself in proving to us that within a four-to-eight-year political term, absolutely anything could happen with a relationship. Of course, it might get better, let’s not sound too pessimistic. But if you’re a level-headed, clear thinking oddsmaker, you might want to cash your chips in now rather than gamble with what the crystal ball will tell about the United States-Polish relationship.
Perhaps as it does you, this topic bothers me tremendously. Should not Poland increase its self-image by politely yet authoritatively standing its ground, laying stricter conditions for any U.S. deal, and being just a bit more independent? You know, it’s quite honorable, courteous and friendly to buddy-up with another nation, but there comes a point when you risk eventually becoming a puppet on a string, played to the tune of whatever political motive is the current affair. I will be the first one to condemn Switzerland for their neutrality position during World War II, but perhaps a beneficial lesson can be learned from their stubborn stance of self-image and cautious, tentative approach to allegiances.
The Last Bastion of Musical Hope
Are there any musicians left who enjoy being invited to a party and leaving the stipend to the generosity of the host? Unbelievably it appears not too many. After recently organizing a party, my hunt for a non-professional, side-job piano player found me calling half a dozen candidates only to be asked within thirty seconds of the conversation, “How much do you want to pay me?”
You know, verbally one must remain polite on the telephone, but deep down inside I could not help my gut feeling that this response was...insane!!! Is everything about money today? I mean a three-hour gig using my piano isn’t really asking too much, is it? “Normally it’s $600 sir, but you can give me $250.” Huh? I declare, what has happened to the old-school benevolence of offering your talent to an asker knowing the obvious protocol that they’ll give you something for it?
Finally, lo and behold, I found a remnant of probably the last bastion of hope left for this kind of dignity. And she was none other than a Polish musician, who couldn't make the party due to a conflict, but graciously asked another musician, an accordion player, to come in her stead. He refused the stipend offered to him upon party's end, citing that this was a favor asked of him by his piano friend. Can we please clone these two people before all hope becomes extinct? Thank God for good old-fashioned heart and soul!
John Paul II: Exactly why he is a Saint
Special Note: Nine years ago I wrote the following story for a newspaper here in New York City. With the intention of merely providing a reporter’s objective glimpse into the magnitude of our former Pontiff’s life, little did I realize that my words were spelling the name of a future Saint. Isn’t it odd that the obvious sometimes takes so long to become “obvious?”
As the bells toll high atop St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, the Catholic Church lays to rest its greatest living icon, Pope John Paul II. The entire world seemed to pack into St. Peter's Square bidding farewell to this modern-age hero. Tears of sadness overcome by the knowledge that indeed history changed during his tenure. Watching live coverage from Rome like millions around the world, I reflected on the pope's 26 years as pontiff.
The Canoe Trip
It was during his canoe and camping adventures with friends on the Skawa River in Poland in the mid 1930s that the young Karol Wojtyla first began to learn of his life's calling. He would later refer to these outdoor activities as significant stepping stones in his life. For the young Karol, nicknamed "Lolek," his strict and disciplined Catholic upbringing geared him into a more philosophical mindset amongst the natural setting on the Skawa. Imagine a young blond haired boy of about 12 trying to find an answer to why a bird sings or what causes the river's water to move a certain way. These were the small building blocks in the eventual formation of his great theological mind to come.
Suffering however became a regular part of little Lolek's life. His infant sister died even before he was born in 1920. Before he turned 13, he lost both his mother and his brother to illness. He himself narrowly escaped death by miraculously surviving after getting hit by a truck. The permanent scar left from this accident was his noticeable stooped shoulders. This pattern of continuous grief greatly influenced his Pontifical disposition as the "Suffering Servant" in Christ once again took shape.
The Early Years
Upon entering the Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Wojtyla became quite the handsome "Hollywood" man. His passion for theater was quite noticeable, and his collection of poetry resounds even today. At the University, he continued his childhood pursuit of philosophy. In 1941, the 21-year old future Pope experienced the definitive career move of his life. Finding his sickly and bedridden father dead while returning home one day, Karol would then begin to reflect more intensely on his life and his father's wishes for him to enter the priesthood. Wojtyla realized that the logical course of his life's philosophical endeavors would be ultimately fulfilled as a theologian. He studied for the priesthood secretly at an underground seminary in Krakow to avoid the occupying Nazi forces and was ordained in 1946, going on to earn a second doctorate in his beloved philosophy.
A definite hallmark trait that Wojtyla possessed was his uncanny ability to please the oppressive forces, be it the Nazis or the communists, while at the same time push ever so subtly for reform. His strategy was to build churches in areas of governmental oppression, or in layman's terms, sort of like sticking up the middle finger at the Soviet Politburo for instance. It worked. Dictatorships began to yield to the will of the people because of Wojtyla's efforts.
In 1962, he was appointed Archbishop of Krakow after serving on the second Vatican Council where his specialty was none other than religious freedom. His appointment as Cardinal in 1967 paved the way for this tough yet accommodating moderate reformer. The scene was set. Rome, September 1978. After a mere 34 days in office, Wojtyla's predecessor, John Paul I had mysteriously died of a heart attack. The Sacred College of Cardinals tossed and turned in deciding who would take on the task of pontiff. Finally the familiar white smoke emerged from the rooftop of the Vatican. Wojtyla became the first non-Italian pope in over 400 years, and one of the youngest at the age of 58. One of the key reasons why Karol Wojtyla became the divinely inspired choice for pope was his devotion to prayer. He was a man often seen down on his knees in quiet contemplation.
On a recent visit to the rugged mountains surrounding the Polish village of Zakopane, I found myself being swept away in the refreshing breeze. Deep breaths of Alpine air together with meadows of dazzling forsythia proved to be the perfect retreat. It was no wonder then to learn that the pope often visited here to contemplate. This was a man of inspiration and zeal.
The Solidarity Movement
To be a fly on the wall in Poland's northern city of Gdansk in the summer of 1980 meant having a front row seat to what was arguably the beginning of communism's downfall. Spearheaded by the pope, "Solidarnosc" as it was called, paved the way for freedom and reform among Poland's labor workers. Led by Lech Walesa, this movement essentially foreshadowed what was destined to come – an oust of communistic dictatorship and a new Poland in the making.
Tensions were building. On a spring day in 1981, during one of his regular pope-mobile tours around St. Peter's Basilica greeting the crowds, the pope was a standing target as a lone gunman opened fire. Ali Agca's bullet miraculously circumvented the pontiff’s heart by a percentage of an inch. John Paul II would later attribute this miracle to the work of Mary, mother of Jesus. The assassin was allegedly hired by the Soviet's KGB agency to dispose of their new troublemaker. And in true Christ like fashion, the pope later visited Agca in prison to reconcile him.
The Traveler
Pope John Paul II was statistically the most traveled pope in the history of the papacy. This great testament to his tenacity for evangelization and world cohesiveness runs chills down the spine. He had visited no less than 120 countries during his tenure. He also had the incredible distinction of speaking eight languages. The list of destinations seems endless. In 1998, the pope's presence in Cuba was clearly a critical boost for its people, long under the whip of hard-liner Fidel Castro. It was said that Castro himself miraculously lessened his fierce grip on the people soon after. And in Chile, the eventual collapse of Augusto Pinochet's reign was most likely the result of John Paul II’s charismatic visit. This man, who held the very core of Catholicism in his palm, shaped and molded the hearts of mankind tenaciously. This lion of the Church roared loud, reestablishing essential Church doctrine amidst a troubled world.
Clearly his goal was to place Christ back into society, in all its facets. Long lost and forgotten principles of brotherhood, sacrifice, and devotion to Mary that dwindled through the ages suddenly emerged. There was no place for a political agenda in the absence of God, in this man's eyes. The fruits of growth would only ripen with a faith belief, as he reasoned.
Indeed his inaugural visit to the United States was met with mixed emotions. Of course his presence was the great highlight of the year for so many people, but he didn't come to pat us on the back and sing praises. Rather, consistent with his divine driven zeal, the pope set the record straight on America's people: they were too materialistic. He argued that our culture of secularism placed little value on spirituality. The typical American wants everything. Rather, argued John Paul II, we should abandon the “self” and seek to follow the example of Christ thinking less of ourselves and more of others. This can only be accomplished through prayer and contemplation.
This traveling pope knew very well that the youths of today would be the Catholic church of tomorrow. His herculean efforts in gathering millions of young people at no less than 20 World Youth Days since 1986 was proof. From Argentina to Italy, John Paul II’s bravado in defending Christian values was triumphant. Youths began to reject temptation and put on the coat of Christ.
The Writer
John Paul II was notorious for his written work. Publishing books, letters, and encyclicals, the Pope championed this method of communication reaching into very deep social and moral issues. Though not always easy to read, his precision with the definitive teachings of Christ often clashed vehemently with modern-day rationale. Yes, it is tough to be a Christian.
Ironically though, it was probably because of his steadfastness to purity and principle which actually turned many people towards him. People came to realize that indeed this man was representing Christ himself. And as icing on the cake for this state-of-the-art techno society, the pope hit the music charts by cutting his own CD. Together with the help of the Vatican radio station, his recital of common prayers sung to the rhythm of a drumbeat completely won over the hearts of people young and old.
Witness to Hope
On a recent excursion to Rome, I had a chance to see the pope firsthand at a papal audience gathering. Getting closer to him, I began to see the real John Paul II. His contemplative eyes drew me into a world of compassion. The strands of brilliant white hair atop his head seemed to symbolize that yes, indeed this man represented purity at its best. And even though the frail physique of this Parkinson's disease sufferer was clearly evident, behind the deep lengthy wrinkles in his face was a man of profound faith, a witness to hope in a dreary world.
Karol Wojtyla, the Longest Running Act in Town
On April 2nd, we remember that sorrowful event exactly nine years ago when we lost our beloved Karol Wojtyla. Like you, I cannot believe nine years has passed already. It feels like just a few years at most. Perhaps this is due to his resonance in our minds and all that he impacted. Yesterday as I replayed his funeral video on the DVD which I purchased from EWTN.com, a thousand images came to mind, but not mostly of his latter years as we may tend to recall. Rather, I thought about the actor, the romantic, and the youthful downhill skier in Wojtyla.
Had it not been for his devoutly faithful mother Emilia, who was warned that she had virtually no chance of giving birth to a live child and should abort the pregnancy, little “Lolek” would never have been. Yes, 17-year olds have wandering eyes, didn’t we all? A damsel known as Ginka Beer quickly caught his attention, and it was this slender, dark-eyed beauty who was probably responsible for much of Wojtyla’s future papal social skills, introducing him to the art of acting in theatre. What really grabbed my attention was the thought of the now ordained Fr. Wojtyla, alias “Wujek,” masquerading himself as an uncle to groups of youth during spiritually inspired skiing and boating excursions, of course in defiance of the political powers at the time. What guts, huh? You’ve got to love this guy!
Of course, Wojtyla’s youth was a mere drop in the bucket compared to the entire span of his life’s work, and as the DVD video neared its conclusion, there was one moment which really spurred on throat swallows along with watery eyes, that being the momentary pause the pallbearers gave to the crowd as they carried his casket inside. It was almost as if we didn’t want this funeral to end and closure to come. Just keep it going, was the sentiment. Even though the video ended yesterday, it is difficult to even write of it now, with throat swallows and watery eyes upon each keystroke, and this is nine years after the fact. That certainly is proof that closure never really came. Wojtyla’s act just keeps going.
Seven Signs of the Season
People everywhere, in some manner, shape, or form, began to feel that certain “calling” this month, didn't we? The weather is turning and daffodils are yearning, yet, this transition wouldn’t be quite right without its prerequisite, the most solemn season on the calendar, Lent. Signs of shamrocks were on display, soon followed by chocolate Easter bunnies grabbing our attention. But in the meantime, why don’t we instead focus on seven other signs?
#1. Sell your ashes. What? Need we be reminded that we are dust, and unto dust we shall return? Yes, we do! How often do we get caught up in the world’s web, losing perspective of who we really are. Ash Wednesday physically brands us with a burnt, black forehead sign as a wake-up call in reminding us not to forget that our skin and bones don’t last. The lesson: give up investment in your body’s stock, rather, buy stock in your everlasting soul.
#2. Go to confession. Unfortunately recipients of the Sacrament of Reconciliation are on the decline. Mysteriously however, long confessional lines seem to appear between Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday in too many last-minute efforts at redemption. That’s great anyway, but why wait until Good Friday to make your annual pilgrimage? Go now! What better way to begin the Lenten season than as a sin-free “tabula rasa,” or clean slate, upon which all the sanctity of the season can be inscribed. It makes sense.
#3. Visit the Stations. Many Catholic churches conduct the Way of the Cross every Friday night during Lent, culminating on Good Friday. Here the priest recalls each of Christ’s 14 stops during the last hours of his life. You’ll relive what it was like for Christ to get condemned, scourged and ultimately crucified. Forget the Easter bunny, this is what the season is really all about. Take your kids.
#4. Gaze at a Crucifix. That’s right, get a good stare session in. Did you ever think about what it was like to be crucified? We’ve all stepped on splinters and cut our hands, but haven’t quite experienced an incision directly on a nerve and without anesthesia. Had open heart surgery? Yes that’s serious, but you’re asleep when it happens and none the wiser to it afterwards. Imagine being awake and without pain killers when you’re cut? Now you know how Christ felt. It was once said that a two-minute gaze upon a crucifix can turn a sinner into a saint.
#5. Pass on the popcorn. It’s hard isn’t it? While sitting there seven nights a week watching our favorite sitcom and reaching for our favorite snack. The issue here is not any particular item we have grown habituated to. Rather, it is our tendency to become dependent on something, devoting a great deal of attention to it. Fasting is not only about food refrain, it is about detaching ourselves from any such overly dependent time-and-attention getter. Time and attention which could be given to God.
#6. Almsgiving. No, not “armsgiving,” this isn’t war. And never was the Charles Bronson film Hard Times so apparent. Yes, economically speaking, these are truly hard times. Harder still for the beggar on the street asking you for a dime. We pinch a penny walking up and down the supermarket aisles trying to break even. But the real question we should ask ourselves during Lent is: How am I sacrificing if I am breaking even?
#7. Prayer. Let’s save the best for last. Even though all of the previous six points above are actually forms of prayer in one way or another, the real essence of Lent begins in your heart, mind and soul. Sure you can do good deeds, go to church, etc., etc., but how often do you pray quietly and contemplatively? John Paul II used to pray for hours, that’s right, hours per day. Can we be so bold as to attempt at least 10 minutes per day?
Fortunately for some people, these seven signs are a rehearsal for what we have been habitually doing every Lent. Personally, perhaps like you do too, I find this hallmark provides an inspiration to others who are not so devout. Kneeling that extra minute or vocalizing your response a little louder at Mass just so someone else might notice could do the trick. Who knows, perhaps because of your faith, somebody somewhere will take notice of your seven signs of the season and luckily save themselves. Let’s pass on the four-leaf clovers, after all, seven has always been a luckier number.
Sirach and the 30-60-90 Theory
“My son, take care of your father when he is old; grieve him not as long as he lives. Even if his mind fail, be considerate with him; revile him not in the fullness of your strength. For kindness to a father will not be forgotten, it will serve as a sin offering-it will take lasting root” as stated in the biblical book of Sirach chapter 3:12-14. Yet, why are so many of our elderly parents treated otherwise by their children? Probably as you have too, I increasingly continue to notice this very sad trend. We've all done it, me, you, and everybody else at times interacting with an elder. My theory is that, for instance, while a 60-year old may be still functioning as a 30-year old mentally, the 90-year old simply is not. But the 60-year old expects the elder to reason and comprehend because they themselves comprehend at their “old” age of 60. They then rebuke the elder because, and what I find most disturbing, these people refuse to accept the fact that their minds too will inevitably fail, thereby thinking they themselves are invulnerable and in complete control. Yet, time will find the once fully functioning 30-year old, now the invincible 60-year old, and inevitably the future 90-year old sitting on a park bench in Fall with head down amidst falling leaves and hasteful squirrels, lonely, somewhat sad, and never being phased by now their own children yelling at them so often. Rather, just serving as a blind, helpless receptor for rebuking. A very sad intellectual morphology. Perhaps the next time we communicate with a senior citizen, let’s try to recall the words of Sirach.
Winter Wonderland, Wow!
Winter 2004, Inside Out by Carol Benanti & Tom Flannagan
Who likes a Staten Island winter? Not many people. But ask West Brighton resident Andrew Ostrowski and he'll tell you: "There's nothing as captivating as discovering the Green-belt amidst a blanket of white."
Ostrowski, a freelance writer, took to the woods last week immediately after our latest dusting. As a writer, he draws inspiration from these solo walks among the trees and wildlife. And for him, this past winter was a wonder.
"I adore the snow," he said. "Gone are the days of yesteryear, when a snowstorm necessitated warm family conversation in front of a fireplace, or the serenity of handwriting a letter to a loved one as heavenly flurries fall from the skies. I cherish these winter attributes and being immersed in the solitude of a Greenbelt winter certainly is mind-refreshing."
His latest trek began at suburban street level and gradually ascended up into the heart of the "snow-white belt." He continued across the wooded terrain, navigating ice ponds here and there and traveling a southeast course.
"In addition to the tranquility of it all, the overwhelming attention-catcher for me was definitely the snow-covered branches. This was pure beauty, plain and simple. Here I was in the center of a winter wonderland, like something out of the 'Nutcracker' ballet. No artist's canvas could ever come close to this."
Navigating in the vicinity of High Rock Park, the writer describes himself as being "surreally" off Staten Island.
"Two hours into the trip, and I've forgotten the real world" he adds. "Here in the crux of this paradise, I see nests of birds, birch trees, dormant plants and shrubs, all awaiting the warmth of spring."
Ostrowski, known to be reflective in his writings, is critical of the typical Islander's attitude when it comes to the winter.
"I hear it over and over, everybody hates the snow. Whether it means shoveling the car out, delaying that supermarket trip or taking the extra three minutes to bundle up, a lot of folks fail to see the fulfilling side of a snowfall."
He concluded his rite of winter as the sun began to set, and as sure as future snows will come, you can bet Andrew Ostrowski will be waiting for them and looking skyward.
"I now have to begin the hibernating process of waiting until next winter. But this "DVD" was burned into my mind so not too many tears will be shed over the long wait."
The Purity of White
As you know, in early January much of New England was treated to a wintry wonderland, if I may dare to say so. I continue to be amazed at the negativity associated with snow. Everywhere you go, the “word on the street” seems to come from the common list of curses in our vocabulary, so much so that the purity of white becomes lost forever. Vintage stories of neighborhood homes being buried in five feet of snow, earmuffs and coal-fired ovens resonate out of the mouths of my senior citizen friends, and they say them with so much enthusiasm. Today, proclaiming those same stories about a modern day storm would wind you up in a mental institution. But why do so many people today simply hate the snow? Have we become so pampered by automobile ease, electric garage door openers and rock salt that we are opting out of actively living? “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately” as Thoreau said. Because of tradition, and the hint of a smile, fortunately many folks still see the purity of a winter’s snowfall.
9 Centuries of Francis
Sounding bells from afar as sun beams radiantly shine through the silver lining. A gentle wind approaching, almost signaling a revelation of divinity. We are in the Holy Land. Stretching from Syria in the north to Egypt in the south and from the island of Cyprus westward to Amman, Jordan, the Holy Land has been a significant spiritual impetus for many. Among them, the special province of the Franciscan Order known as the Franciscans of the Holy Land. Founded by Francis Bernardone in 1217, their journey has been one of struggle, humility, and perseverance. Francis and his companions, dressed in the simple garments of pilgrims, reached the seaport of Acre which became the first stronghold of the Franciscan presence in the Holy Land. Crossing the rugged terrain enroute to Jerusalem, they quickly became strangers in a strange land. Their mission was clear: Establish a presence, tend to the poor, and preserve the holy sites. St. Francis often referred to this land as the "Pearl of the Missions", since Jesus was born, lived, ministered, and died here. Thus, the small band of men quickly became known as the Pearl of the Franciscan Order. After its initial establishment, the province was further divided into custodies, which are monasteries in each geographic area. As their presence grew, it became clear to the inhabitants that they were a group to be reckoned with. Tensions climaxed in 1291 and the friars sought out sanctuary on the island of Cyprus. Gradually they were once again infused into the Holy Land, and in 1342 Pope Clement VI declared their work to be "the care of the Sacred Places in the name of the Christian world". But it was only after 1517 that the Franciscans of the Holy Land really solidified their foundation. The emergence of parishes, schools, and assistance to foreigners answered a long-awaited need. Parishes then set up orphanages and hospitals. Like a vine in fertile soil, the Franciscan presence extended.
The formation process of becoming a Franciscan of the Holy Land is meticulous. A future Friar Minor lives his life through the Gospel after the example set by St. Francis. This life expresses itself in loyalty to the Catholic Church, prayer and fraternity, chastity, and by living in obedience without property. The pre-novitiate program is geared to allow time for the potential candidate to grasp religious matters. He is trained in prayer, community life, and work. This initial period of formation lasts two years.
Religious life as a Franciscan begins with the novitiate period. It consists of twelve months of instruction on religious life, with the history and spirituality of the Franciscan Order stressed. The novice is trained to commune with God through personal and communal prayer and becomes immersed in the traditions of the Franciscan Order. At the completion of the novitiate, the novice professes temporary vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.
The post-novitiate period then follows. It must last no less than three years and no longer than nine. The further growth of the newly professed friar is fostered, and it is here that the friar's unique skills and abilities are developed, whether technical, educational, or apostolic. At the conclusion of this period, the friar professes solemn vows dedicating himself for life to God, the Church, and the community of fellow friars. Those preparing for the priesthood will enroll in a course of studies and other friars will pursue specific programs as Brothers.
According to Father Angelo Ison, OFM (Order of Franciscans Minor) of St. Saviour's Monastery in Jerusalem, formation does not cease after this. "It must be seen as continuing" he says. "The friar is to constantly perfect his spiritual, doctrinal, and professional formation." Fr. Angelo stresses the importance of discernment. "Brotherhood and priesthood are complete vocations since they are both calls from God. He chooses the person and the candidate responds to his call."
Today, some 330 Franciscan friars carry out St. Francis' divine mission in the Holy Land. Their "base camp" here in the United States is in Washington, D.C. and according to Brother Fabian Adkins, who served as its head before being immersed in the Holy Land, "It is hard to explain the remarkable feeling of living, praying, learning, and teaching in these places. But that is the mystery that 2000 years later calls our friars to leave home and homeland for this Mediterranean land." He sums it all up stating "In these places, which are sacred because of the birth, death, and resurrection of Christ, Holy Land friars and Christian laity preserve not only the holy places themselves, but the Christian culture." This past summer, three new candidates for the Franciscan novitiate emerged from our Capital ready for the challenge. Four more will enter next fall.
Nine centuries later, the mission continues. St. Francis' vision for his friars in the Holy Land has not dimmed - the holy places are preserved, the Gospel is preached, the poor are fed, housed, clothed, and educated by his friars and the spirit of Christ and Francis continues to pervade the land called holy.
Just A Peek at Film-Noire
I’d like to shed some warm light on a topic most familiar to our senior readers, nostalgic film-noire. It is troubling to realize that all that remains of our silver screen stars are bones and a bunch of memories from a long forgotten era. Do you remember Merle Oberon in the Scarlet Pimpernel? She was an exquisitely beautiful and captivating actress. The story surrounds the French Revolution of 1789, where Oberon is the wife of the elusive Pimpernel, played by Leslie Howard, an Englishman set on freeing condemned French aristocrats. Despite her hesitant allegiance with Citizen Chauvelin, the notorious guillotine executioner played by Raymond Massey, she unknowingly reveals her husband’s secret identity only to flee to his side at film’s end! For beloved icons such as Merle Oberon, death somehow fails to be fathomed. Such is the power of life.
George Who?
And added to your recipe-making conversation around the dinner table this Christmas may arguably be the biggest story making headlines last month involving the death of John F. Kennedy. Many of our senior readers will remember where they were on November 22, 1963, upon hearing the tragic news. One year earlier and closer to home, then 6-year old Am-Pol Eagle reader Noelle Krolewicz will recall meeting JFK upon giving a doll to his daughter at the Pulaski Day Parade. But who killed JFK? Was it Lee Harvey Oswald, the grassy knoll phantom, or…George Hickey? George who? As you may have heard, the latest theory asserts that Hickey, a rookie Secret Service agent sitting on top of the back seat of an open car directly behind JFK, yanked out an AR-15 assault rifle upon hearing the first bullet fired from Oswald. After mishandling the safety latch on the trigger while the gun was on his lap and pointing straight ahead, the gun fired a bullet that hit Kennedy in the back of the head, killing him. Supporting evidence of gun smoke odor, entry wound angle, and an alleged Secret Service cover-up increases the chances that this theory is true. However, I think you may have better chances of landing a nickel on its edge after throwing it at this theory. What do you think?
A Wintery Wonderland
As you know, last week Buffalo and points westward around our state were treated to a wintry wonderland, if I may dare to say so. I continue to be amazed at the negativity associated with snow. Everywhere you go, the “word on the street” seems to come from the common list of curses in our vocabulary, so much so that the purity of white becomes lost forever. Vintage stories of neighborhood homes being buried in 5 feet of snow, earmuffs, and coal-fired ovens resonate out of the mouths of my senior citizen friends, and they say them with so much enthusiasm. Today, proclaiming those same stories about a modern day storm would wind you up in a mental institution. But why do so many people today simply hate the snow? Have we become so pampered by automobile ease, electric garage door openers, and rock salt that we are opting out of actively living? “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately” as Thoreau said.
The True Face of Mary
Speaking of purity, I discovered an image of Our Lady of Fatima buried deep down in one of my basement file cabinets. The 8 x 10 print backed in cardboard was of the infamous statue so popular around the world, most notably circulated by the Blue Army. After doing some research, goose bumps ran down my spine upon realizing that this image, while considering all the other images of Mary, is probably the closest to what the mother of Christ actually looked like. The testimony of Lúcia Santos, one of three children who were privileged to be chosen to receive Mary’s message, was quite revealing. This image, coupled with the Shroud of Turin image, is in my opinion a one-two punch of exactly what Mary and Jesus looked like. You can view the true face of Mary in the Totus Tuus Opus Dei section of this website.
Boston Strong
Congratulations to the white and red colors of Polonia once again shining strong! Oh, and we should also congratulate the Boston Red Sox for wearing those colors in winning the World Series of baseball! What an incredible series, wouldn’t you agree? Unfortunately Fox network, the series broadcasting station, failed to televise the opening pitch which was thrown by the one and only Carl “Yaz” Yastrzemski. But network pardon’s aside, the team displayed an incredible tour de force since finishing in last place one year ago. That combined with the “B-strong” motto adopted in response to last April’s marathon bombing made for a simply fulfilling season. And let’s not forget the white and red colors of Polonia they were wearing!
Spying
Where is Edward Snowden? He’s taking refuge in Russia of course. And it appears he may not need to remain incognito for too much longer in light of the recent honors he received from former National Security Administration chieftains for leaking sensitive information. Given the recent headline-breaking revelation that allied countries everywhere have been spying on each other was enough to cast doubts on Snowden’s classification as traitor. Should we be surprised to learn that, for many years, we have been spying on our allies and our allies have been spying on us? A handshake and a smile may be one thing, but you never know what goes on behind the closed doors of politics.
Wild Turkey
Appropriately enough for this month’s ending festive occasion of Thanksgiving, a flock of wild turkeys has been corralled right here in Staten Island, NY. It seems the gang of gooble-gobbles were exhibiting too much moxy in wandering out into traffic and raising many an eyebrow. Hunting is simply not permitted in urban neighborhoods you see, and downright discouraged by this writer we’ll add, so the authorities were left with no other choice than to round up the rebels and escort them by caged truck to an upstate farm. Following up to their status, local animal lovers have since learned that although the roads are now clear of feathers and rednecks, a sense of sadness has overtaken the birds who just plain wanted to be loved. However it is reported that the gang is indeed grateful for not being reserved on someone’s upcoming dinner plate.
The Battle of the Popes?
(via Facebook, a string of comments on the Pope’s recent statements) "The Pope is relaxing the rules on abortion and contraception even though nobody cares."–Anthony, N.Y. "It’s a victory for progressive Catholics."–Izabela, N.Y. "Finally the Catholic church is realizing the only way to survive is to embrace the people’s needs more and show mercy."–Elizabeth, Pa. "I wonder what John Paul II would think after all the efforts he devoted to ending abortion and contraception?!"–Irene, Pa.
Are we witnessing a battle of the Popes? Not really. Actually, Pope Francis isn’t relaxing any of the rules and efforts made by earlier popes such as John Paul II, even though the media is quick to portray that. He could’ve worded his statement a little better though, instead the world may be getting a false perception that abortion and contraception aren’t that important. Yes, mercy is most important, but in my opinion, each of us is called to a unique role, including those called to battle evil by devoting their lives to fight abortion and contraception, or the “Church Militant.” Mercy should be used to carry out that role, as I think Francis really means. I think John Paul II would agree. What do you think?
Lick That Stamp
Go ahead, try to lick it. I'm not referring to the glue, but the price. When was the last time you mailed a letter overseas? Arriving at my local post office the other day to send off an old fashioned hand-written letter, which I thought was kind of nostalgic in our modern day cyber world of e-mails, my eagerness quickly turned to hesitancy given the price to pay: $1.10 is the going rate for a first-class letter via air mail. Can you believe this?
Perhaps our senior-most readers will recall the pennies they paid with eagerness in sending off a long distance letter to a loved one. I bet our elders thoroughly cherished sitting by a fireplace on a regular basis as they composed their emotions with pen and ink, all the while being made affordable by the post office. And now, what do we have? Malcontent and reluctance over any personal desire to script a letter due to this outlandish price. Instead, we send e-mails which seem so impersonal that we must use the keyboard characters of : ) to convey a smile. We’re not robots yet, but the post office is certainly helping us make the transition.
Back to School for Nothing
September marks the traditional back to school movement in this country, a time when kids gear up for the unanticipated arrival at an 8-2:30 institution supposedly designed to educate them and prepare them for the future. Our culture has somehow automatically accepted the idea that schooling is necessary and "the right thing to do" without ever taking a moment to ask a question. How much influence does a youngster's schooling have on his/her future? "How can you ask such a question, everybody is supposed to go to school because it's been done that way for centuries, this is the norm for all children and adolescents, what are you crazy?" so say the typical mom and dad in Anywhere, USA. However, perhaps we need to step outside of ourselves and our beliefs for a moment and look objectively at reality, something we rarely if ever do, being creatures of habit. Fact for fact, there is in fact very little retention of knowledgeable experience attained by children in their grammer to high school years. Let's face it, who among you remembers what you've learned in mathematics class, or english class, or biology class? Nobody. At best, the average individual's retention span will perhaps recall an old teacher's personality, perhaps a best friend they had, or some specific instance they exerienced in the 12 years they attended school. The reality is, and we don't want to hear it, that all that blackboard chalk, textbook reading, and homework we went through basically had a zero effect on ouselves today, statistically. What people need to realize is that a child's 12 years of schooling is unfortunately not substantive as they think it is, but instead has a societive effect. The idea of engaging with new children, making friends, and going "through the motions" for 12 years is by far the overwhelming byproduct of education at those ages. And as shocking as it is to hear, in reality, teachers are not influential to a young mind, parents are. By far, the parent's influence is retained by the child, since birth in fact. That is why, fact for fact, home-schooled children outscore institution-educated children by a landslide. But we still send our kids to school, because we think that's right and everybody's doing it. In the 1940's everybody smoked cigarettes too, and now look what they're saying...
The Useless U.N.
If you see your next door neighbor on his porch strangling his wife, how long would it take you to intervene in order to stop it? I bet first you would yell at him, then simultaneously call 911 while you run over there and try to stop him, right? Of course, that would be the right procedure. Yet, what is happening in Syria, though comparably the same, is being met with quite the opposite reaction. Have you asked yourself the question, why should it take 9 days of beaurocratic deliberations and a "Congressional vote" in order to stop the mass death march using chemical warfare by the Syrian regime on its own people? Absolutely insane! President Obama first should be applauded for expressing a desire to act responsibly and immediately (like the example above) without "waiting for 911" so to speak. How many innocent people will die during the 9 day wait? Yet, politics as they are, we are waiting. And what of the United Nations? This institution, designed to be the "policeman" of the world equipped with its own army, representational of nearly every nation on earth, has once again failed by its inaction. I'm sorry, but not acting is acting, isn't it. For example, Switzerland's decision to remain neutral in the face of Hitler's atrocities should not be looked on as "neutral" thereby excusing them. Switzerland, in this website's opinion, is guilty because they chose not to act. Look at all the nations who "took a pass" when Obama asked for their allegiance to join and end the chemical warfare in Syria. All of these nations, by taking a pass, in effect should be held accountable for such a decision. There is no "free pass" when it comes to deciding on life and death. The United Nations, supposedly composed of representatives of these nations, has once again proven itself, like it did in the neverending Darfur tragedy, like it did when dictators in western Africa were cutting arms off of citizens with opposing views, and like it did in Lebanon when Hezbollah were allowed to continue threatening Israel by hiding out in schools, to be an absolute disgrace and a worthless, useless institution. Instead, shouldn't your answer to this more serious question be that whenever an unthinkable action occurs as currently in Syria and in the examples above, Congress shouldn't wait 9 days, but instead, drop its dinner, get over to the Capitol, and vote that very same day as the atrocity occurred. The U.N., rather than schedule a date on their calendar to sit and hear a bunch of talking heads deliberate, should pick up the hotline and dispatch the necessary counter-forces to end this atrocity. This is common, dignified sense. How many more lives must be lost before we wake up?
FB's Dirty Little Secret
Ever notice just to the right of your Facebook newsfeed page a potpourri of ads? Have you ever taken a closer look at what they are and perhaps why they are there? It dawned on me that what I have heard regarding Facebook's social engineering strategy was in fact true. They allow certain ads to populate your screen based on your profile. In another fact, FB uses virtually all of your messages, interests, likes, and subscriptions, even the friends you have, to market, or sell, interests. FB is the epitome of a cookie kingdom, and we're talking computer "cookies" here. "Okay, that's normal business, what about it?" you may ask. I found it interesting reviewing FB's policy on sexually explicit and offensive postings, that it clearly says that you have a right to report to FB any photo or message you deem such. But what I found quite ironic is that FB itself is posting ads clearly sexually explicit on that right side of the page. One photo was of a girl who basically was wearing a "bra" more or less three sizes too small for her, where her breasts were basically front and center and the very first thing the viewer notices. Just last week, another ad posted a rather intellectual looking woman wearing black-framed eyeglasses and whose breasts took up about 3/4 of the photo, nipples showing through her tight fitting T shirt. Why are these ads popping up on my screen? Because my FB profile says I'm single and though not made public, FB knows my DOB. Therefore, I'm targeted for women in my age range, run by ad companies who buy space from Facebook and obviously receive input from them with my profile stats (so much for FB's privacy policy). Interestingly, FB allows you to X-out the ad and choose not to have such ads from a particular company ever appear again. Great...but no sooner do you X-out of one semi-porno ad does another sexually explicit one arrive from yet another pimp dealer. Who's kidding who here? Facebook is using sex to sell. They sell their ad space to companies who post trashy ads, then have the gaul to have a policy stating they have zero tolerance for sexually offensive content! You know, for you and me, we can handle such things. But what about your 15 year old kid? Should we wonder then when our daughter comes home with the dreaded news of "I'm sorry, my boyfriend forgot to go to the drugstore this time" and you know the rest of the story. Facebook, take some responsibility!
Gone with the Wind
I would like to call attention to a dying tradition and unfortunate metamorphosis being experienced by a good number of our senior citizens. More often than not, I’m finding that our elder folks are finding themselves rather chagrin with today’s ever-changing news and entertainment industries. Just the other day a senior fellow was remarking that his beloved TCM (Turner Classic Movies) channel seems to be showing fewer film-noire classics and airing more recent blockbuster films. Tyrone Power and Bette Davis mean absolutely nothing to today’s audience regrettably. On the news front, how is a senior citizen supposed to navigate an iPhone “app” which seems to be the premier publishing route taken by an increasing number of newspapers? Thank goodness for the Am-Pol Eagle in perhaps taking the more costly route of print publishing in honoring tradition and practicality for our elderly readers! But this topic asks a bigger question of the scary metamorphosis taking place in our media. Why doesn’t society’s younger audience seem to appreciate antiquity, sentimentality, and tradition? Yesterday’s movie and today’s news is not good enough, they want tomorrow’s. How sad. Perhaps David O. Selznick’s familiar film opener sums it all up for our seniors: “It was a tradition Gone with the Wind…”
Insults at 1500'
Nik Wallenda successfully walked his way across a chasm of the Grand Canyon on a two inch steel wire as many of you recently witnessed. This was of course a magnificent feat, magnified by the fact that Wallenda chose not to wear a tethering device. During the skywalk, the daredevil Wallenda was continuously asking Jesus to “calm the winds” and thanking God for assistance which seemed to add a nice spiritual component. But it eventually dawned on me that something didn’t seem quite right here. As commendable and noble as it appeared, in actuality wasn’t this gentleman being just a bit disrespectful to Jesus? Considering all the efforts Christians make to cherish the sanctity of life, this guy was gambling with it and then wanted Jesus to uphold his gamble. You may argue, "Well, what about an Indy 500 race car driver, or a downhill skier, aren't they gambling with their lives?" Consider that Wallenda's "sport" was a make or break one, either he lived or he died, in essence his actions had clear-cut consequences and he knew it. With other dangerous sports, the participants have only a side chance of dying, with the main purpose being to navigate a course or set a speed record for example. Wallenda was putting his God-given life on the line, and asking God to help him roll the dice. I’m sorry Mr. Wallenda, invoking God’s help demands a degree of personal responsibility. Life means something.
Artificial Ingredients and the TDF
As a supplement to this website's section "Le Tour" where you can further read behind-the-scenes of the Tour de France, this month's new topic comes just in time for the start of the infamous July spectacle. Marred by the recent Oprah Winfrey interview of Lance Armstrong, the Tour has suffered insult to injury and as we shall see, will undoubtedly be infused with "artificial ingredients" and never come clean. Drug use in the Tour de France has a long history, and a sad one. In a sport where physically testing a body's limit is par for the course, combined with a direct connection between salary and results, it is no wonder then why performance enhancing drugs are rampant. Amphetamines were the drugs of choice through the 1970's, combined with caffeine through the 80's. More recently, such substances as testosterone and erythropoietin (EPO) have been added. This is in addition of course to the well-known "natural" technique of blood doping, which is extracting your blood, refrigerating it for awhile, then injecting it back into your body, which by this time has regenerated the lost RBCs (red blood cells), resulting in an increased RBC count in your bloodstream. RBCs carry oxygen to weary cells, so the more you have, the more you can endure. Several riders have been caught via unannounced sporadic testing, but, the crook is always one step ahead of the cop, isn't that correct? With the help of team physicians, riders have found clever ways at beating the rap.
One way, only a theory of mine and never proven, involves the strategic use of the domestiques. These guys are the work horses for the team, all focused on getting their leader to the top of the General Classification, or ranking. A technique that is plausible is for these domestiques, maybe one or two of them, to be intentionally loaded up on EPO or another substance and to then nurse the team leader through about three quarters of the race, after which they drop out of sight and purposely finish back in the pack. The net effect is that the team leader, who had no reason to take drugs, has just had three quarters of the day's work done for him (breaking the wind, water supply, etc.) by the drugged domestiques. The team leader finishes with a fast time, and for that he is automatically tested with a urine test. The faster you are across the line, the more chance that you will undergo testing. About three randomly selected riders are also chosen from all regardless of finishing time, but the chances that one of these domestiques is picked is small since the field is large. The leader finishes strong, tests clean, and the team physicians chalk up another victory for themselves. It is a terrible tragedy. But as long as money rules, rules will be broken.
Yet despite Tour organizers realizing that drugs play a factor, you would think that ALL riders should be tested to solve the problem, yet only a few are. Hmm, I smell a rat. Imagine if that were the case, by the end of the first week of this three week race you would have a drastically reduced field of riders, which would then hurt the team tactics, which in turn would then hurt the sponsors. And as in any professional sport, money dictates everything. Are the organizers then under pressure from sponsors to intentionally limit the testing?
The crucifixion of Lance Armstrong by the public may then be a bit polarized. Rather than condemn this individual participant, perhaps it should be condemning the whole Tour organization. Of course, personal choices to take illegal substances are individual responsibilities and individuals bear the consequences, but when rules are skewed to favor financial gain of sponsorship, how can we then blame the individual cyclists, their team directors, or their physicians?
The hyperbole of focusing on a single rider becomes even more clear when you discover the physical parameters of this colossal race. Riders race every day for 21 days, with each day typically covering over 100+ miles. "Okay, I can do that drug-free, why do these guys have to take dope?" you say. You're right, you certainly can ride 100+ miles per day for three weeks, but there's one problem. It is physically impossible for a human to ride 100+ miles per day for three weeks at breakneck speeds. Typical speeds in the Tour are 35mph and every year they increase, including uphill mountain climbing, time trialing, and bunch sprinting. Physiologically, it is a fact that after an exertive workout, the body's testosterone levels drop. Testosterone is used by the body to recover, which normally takes about a day to rebound to normal levels. For example, Greg LeMond's wife reported that he was typically very fatigued and "out of it" the day following a big race. That's because his body was in the process of recovery. Now, applying these same physiological facts to today's Tour de France cyclist will leave you perplexed as to how riders can race 100+ miles per day at breakneck speeds, have their testosterone levels drop, and then wake up the next day and do it all over again, and again, and again. It needs no further explanation. Even former Armstrong teammate Tyler Hamilton's interview on 60 Minutes revealed how team physician's would monitor a rider's daily testosterone level and make sure measures were taken to expedite the recovery by the next morning.
So in a nutshell, ethics are broken because organizers relax the rules because sponsors have too much influence because society needs them. Did you follow that? So the next time you hear about doping in the Tour de France, ask yourself who is really at fault, the rider, the team director, the team physician, the race organizer, the sponsor...or us? It may be that your cereal's "No Additives, No Preservatives, 100% Natural Ingredients" slogan may never make it to the Tour de France.
S.J. Goes Home
Recently, while I was listening to WABC-AM radio, I smiled when, to my delight, the following advertisement was aired: "Parents, teachers, dog lovers and people of all ages, read the children's book, S.J. Goes Home, by J.C. Carr. Kids love reading the true story of S.J., a rescued puppy mill dog—and you'll want to save a life and adopt your new furry, best friend from an animal shelter today! Read S.J. Goes Home available now in bookstores and on Amazon.com."
What a great ad, I thought. It was succinct, but most of all, intriguing. Being a person concerned with animal adoption, welfare, and the humane treatment of animals, it peppered my curiosity. I soon found myself on the Amazon.com page, where I read a full description of the book and reviews by people who ordered it, and by an independent book reviewer. Indeed, I too had to read the book and I placed an order with a click of my mouse and eagerly waited for the story of S.J., the rescued puppy mill collie to arrive.
Upon its arrival, I read the book and I was moved by it on many levels and it led me to write my own review. First, it did indeed make me want to go to an animal shelter and adopt a pet, thus, saving a life. But, it also aroused a deep sense of compassion for S.J. and all of the animals that had the misfortune to be bred and born into puppy mills, as well as all those lovable animals confined to 2'x2'x2' steel cages in local shelters. I also learned of the inhumane treatment these animals endure, especially the adults of the many litters, while being subjected to years of confinement in mass puppy mill breeding facilities for the sole purpose of monetary profit. Many of the puppies have a chance to be sold, but the adult animals are sentenced to life in a cage for up to ten years or more. These are cogent themes Carr emphasizes throughout the book. The story of S.J. also demonstrates that animals are sentient, social beings, wanting nothing more than to truly be man's best friend, while depicting S.J. as forgiving after all he has endured and grateful for being adopted. The text is accurately complimented by intricate, quite stirring and moving illustrations by artist Kerri Carabetta who brought S.J. and his collie family to life while contrasting life in the puppy mill, animal shelter and his newly adopted home. Below is an excerpt from the description on the back cover of the book.
"I watched as the women rescued my family. I knew this could be my last chance! I had to do something! As the woman closed the cage door, I placed my paw on her hand. I looked at her, with my head held high, loudly barking: LOOK AT ME! PLEASE, TAKE ME TOO!"
S.J., the main character, narrates his feelings while communicating through moving gestures and vocalizations, pleading to be rescued from his life of confinement in the puppy mill. The reader is taken on a heartfelt journey as he describes the three defining stages of his life: from difficult beginnings in a puppy mill, to his rescue and temporary placement in an animal shelter, to the extraordinary circumstances that led to his adoption by the author. The story, beautifully depicted in full color illustrations, vividly yet delicately captures a myriad of emotions as evoked by the puppy mill and shelter dogs. The story and images will instill compassion for the dogs in children, parents and educators as they are educated to the plight of puppy mill and shelter dogs. After reading S.J. Goes Home, readers will champion the humane treatment of animals, realizing that pet adoption is both a rewarding and wonderfully heartfelt deed; therefore becoming, like the author, a staunch advocate for shelter dog, cat, and other animal adoptions. So, as the radio advertisement aptly states: Read the children's book, S.J. Goes Home, and adopt your new furry, best friend from an animal shelter today and save a life!
But there is yet a more revealing story behind S.J.'s story you need to hear about... Consider the following facts:
-J.C. Carr (the author) had a childhood collie which her parents found on the street, brought in, and the family named him Scotty. That was in 1959. Scotty has been long passed away of course.
-On the morning of May 6th, 2002, J.C. Carr had to euthanize her second collie, named A.J., who weighed 58 lbs at the time.
-On the exact same day, May 6th, 2002, a collie was rescued and brought to a shelter, and the shelter named him Scotty as detailed on page 25 of the book. He weighed exactly 58 lbs at the time.
-Soon after, J.C. Carr began an internet shelter search to adopt a collie after losing A.J. and spotted the sheltered Scotty, who not only had the same name as the 1959 collie, but looked like both the 1959 Scotty and her former A.J., and weighed exactly the same incoming 58 lbs as the outgoing A.J..
-S.J. is that collie!
Nope, this is obviously no coincidence, something else occurred here. An incarnation? Objectively speaking, it would be difficult to conclude otherwise. Go back and re-read the above factual points. You will then realize that incarnation (not re-incarnation) is a very valid phenomenon, as expressed in the Totus Tuus section of this website. Read about my own cat as more proof! Perhaps we need to step outside of ourselves from time to time to objectively realize the 'boxes' we might be living in. Just think of all the religions of the world, why should there be so many if there is just one God who oversees everyone? Isn't it foolish then for faiths to discredit certain beliefs each other holds? Or, if we declare that all things are possible when it comes to God and spirituality as is the case, shouldn't we accept the possibility that such concepts as incarnation may indeed hold some truth? S.J.'s story appears to me, objectively, to be quite revealing of this. In addition to my own cat, you can also read the story of Ryan Hammons in the Archives section below.
Read the compelling story S.J. Goes Home as it takes you from sheer sorrow to rewarding rapture, all the while igniting the reader with a burning desire to make a difference in one lonely forgotten animal's life, and by doing so maybe, just maybe, drawing the reader a little closer to the ultimate mystery and meaning of life.
What do you think?
I would highly suggest acquiring the book, S.J. Goes Home, authored by J.C. Carr, professionally illustrated by Kerri Carabetta, and narrated by the one and only S.J.!
Click here to see the real life photo of S.J., his autobiography and that of his author and illustrator, as well as learning how to really become animal friendly!
What a great ad, I thought. It was succinct, but most of all, intriguing. Being a person concerned with animal adoption, welfare, and the humane treatment of animals, it peppered my curiosity. I soon found myself on the Amazon.com page, where I read a full description of the book and reviews by people who ordered it, and by an independent book reviewer. Indeed, I too had to read the book and I placed an order with a click of my mouse and eagerly waited for the story of S.J., the rescued puppy mill collie to arrive.
Upon its arrival, I read the book and I was moved by it on many levels and it led me to write my own review. First, it did indeed make me want to go to an animal shelter and adopt a pet, thus, saving a life. But, it also aroused a deep sense of compassion for S.J. and all of the animals that had the misfortune to be bred and born into puppy mills, as well as all those lovable animals confined to 2'x2'x2' steel cages in local shelters. I also learned of the inhumane treatment these animals endure, especially the adults of the many litters, while being subjected to years of confinement in mass puppy mill breeding facilities for the sole purpose of monetary profit. Many of the puppies have a chance to be sold, but the adult animals are sentenced to life in a cage for up to ten years or more. These are cogent themes Carr emphasizes throughout the book. The story of S.J. also demonstrates that animals are sentient, social beings, wanting nothing more than to truly be man's best friend, while depicting S.J. as forgiving after all he has endured and grateful for being adopted. The text is accurately complimented by intricate, quite stirring and moving illustrations by artist Kerri Carabetta who brought S.J. and his collie family to life while contrasting life in the puppy mill, animal shelter and his newly adopted home. Below is an excerpt from the description on the back cover of the book.
"I watched as the women rescued my family. I knew this could be my last chance! I had to do something! As the woman closed the cage door, I placed my paw on her hand. I looked at her, with my head held high, loudly barking: LOOK AT ME! PLEASE, TAKE ME TOO!"
S.J., the main character, narrates his feelings while communicating through moving gestures and vocalizations, pleading to be rescued from his life of confinement in the puppy mill. The reader is taken on a heartfelt journey as he describes the three defining stages of his life: from difficult beginnings in a puppy mill, to his rescue and temporary placement in an animal shelter, to the extraordinary circumstances that led to his adoption by the author. The story, beautifully depicted in full color illustrations, vividly yet delicately captures a myriad of emotions as evoked by the puppy mill and shelter dogs. The story and images will instill compassion for the dogs in children, parents and educators as they are educated to the plight of puppy mill and shelter dogs. After reading S.J. Goes Home, readers will champion the humane treatment of animals, realizing that pet adoption is both a rewarding and wonderfully heartfelt deed; therefore becoming, like the author, a staunch advocate for shelter dog, cat, and other animal adoptions. So, as the radio advertisement aptly states: Read the children's book, S.J. Goes Home, and adopt your new furry, best friend from an animal shelter today and save a life!
But there is yet a more revealing story behind S.J.'s story you need to hear about... Consider the following facts:
-J.C. Carr (the author) had a childhood collie which her parents found on the street, brought in, and the family named him Scotty. That was in 1959. Scotty has been long passed away of course.
-On the morning of May 6th, 2002, J.C. Carr had to euthanize her second collie, named A.J., who weighed 58 lbs at the time.
-On the exact same day, May 6th, 2002, a collie was rescued and brought to a shelter, and the shelter named him Scotty as detailed on page 25 of the book. He weighed exactly 58 lbs at the time.
-Soon after, J.C. Carr began an internet shelter search to adopt a collie after losing A.J. and spotted the sheltered Scotty, who not only had the same name as the 1959 collie, but looked like both the 1959 Scotty and her former A.J., and weighed exactly the same incoming 58 lbs as the outgoing A.J..
-S.J. is that collie!
Nope, this is obviously no coincidence, something else occurred here. An incarnation? Objectively speaking, it would be difficult to conclude otherwise. Go back and re-read the above factual points. You will then realize that incarnation (not re-incarnation) is a very valid phenomenon, as expressed in the Totus Tuus section of this website. Read about my own cat as more proof! Perhaps we need to step outside of ourselves from time to time to objectively realize the 'boxes' we might be living in. Just think of all the religions of the world, why should there be so many if there is just one God who oversees everyone? Isn't it foolish then for faiths to discredit certain beliefs each other holds? Or, if we declare that all things are possible when it comes to God and spirituality as is the case, shouldn't we accept the possibility that such concepts as incarnation may indeed hold some truth? S.J.'s story appears to me, objectively, to be quite revealing of this. In addition to my own cat, you can also read the story of Ryan Hammons in the Archives section below.
Read the compelling story S.J. Goes Home as it takes you from sheer sorrow to rewarding rapture, all the while igniting the reader with a burning desire to make a difference in one lonely forgotten animal's life, and by doing so maybe, just maybe, drawing the reader a little closer to the ultimate mystery and meaning of life.
What do you think?
I would highly suggest acquiring the book, S.J. Goes Home, authored by J.C. Carr, professionally illustrated by Kerri Carabetta, and narrated by the one and only S.J.!
Click here to see the real life photo of S.J., his autobiography and that of his author and illustrator, as well as learning how to really become animal friendly!
The Ostrowski Interview
I was recently asked if I'd once again be willing to answer a few questions in support of my longtime fellow journalist friend's hometown newspaper in Warsaw where she is a columnist. I humbly agreed...
Maria Radomska: Andrew, it's been a few years since we last chatted for an interview, so thanks once again for giving me the time for my community newspaper here in Poland. We're not the NY Times but still have an eager audience! How are you and your family to start things off?
Andrew Ostrowski: Thank you Maria. It's always a pleasure to chat with you. I'm happy you are still running strong with your newspaper and honored for the opportunity to chat. My family is doing well thanks! My father has been in and out of the hospital but he's doing better, just got to keep a lookout of course.
MR: Your Am-Pol Eagle columns have a following here in Poland, mostly Rzeszow I hear. I'm not a scientific pollster but I know Poles in general have an affinity for Polish Americans such as you who are proud of their heritage and who set good examples for them to follow. Do you think Poles moving to the U.S.A. are in danger of losing their own culture in small ways maybe?
AO: It's a privilege to have an international outreach and I too have an affinity for them as well. Your question brings back memories of a young woman I met on my family's pilgrimage to Poland a dozen years ago. She spoke along similar lines and yes, I do think there is a real danger of cultural gentrification so to speak. The problem may be that in striving for the American Dream, many immigrants are suddenly given so much opportunity and freedom that it makes their previous lifestyles appear to be shackled. Too much freedom may actually not be a good thing when introduced so quickly. Pretty soon going to weekly Mass turns to biweekly, budgeted dollars are now spent wastefully, and Capitalism competes with Christianity in a manner of speaking. Polish culture can be preserved, and it has been with many immigrants, but too many are losing it.
MR: Do you feel Poland's government is doing its best at aligning itself with America and what examples should it take from the democratic process?
AO: I've always stated and will continue to state that Poland is actually doing more than its best at befriending American interests. I say that with a bit of chagrin because in my opinion, you know, you can't just give in to another country's beckoning all the time because it weakens your own image a bit. Of course, allegiance with some decisions are appropriate, but when you have Poland first at the door to accept a U.S. policy decision, I find myself thinking, wait a minute here. As far as the democratic process, I'd like to see Poland (as well as the U.S.) introduce more parties. To think everything is either Republican or Democratic, or even Independent, is ridiculous. I myself have multiple agreements and disagreements with various parties and no one party seems to attract me entirely.
MR: Spirituality is something you write about a lot. Do you think people around the world are getting more serious about faith or is that topic on the decline? I will ask you the common question too, do you believe in ghosts and why or why not?
AO: I absolutely adore spirituality and as opposed to the Star Trekkers, I think it is the final frontier. Proportionally I would say that interest in spirits and souls has increased globally, but unfortunately also increasing simultaneously are secular values, causing people to favor unfaithful lives. I will point out that the important thing to see in this tragedy is that choices for good and bad don't seem to be consciously made anymore, but rather people's lives automatically shift towards paganistic values without them actually realizing it due to culture pressure. Flip your TV channel, so many popular movies, i.e. James Bond, now display casual sex as if this is acceptable, and it appears like society considers it acceptable, that's the problem. You can't have an authentic faith and be in-sync with society at the same time, let's face it. But then again, it has never been popular being a faithful person. I certainly do believe in ghosts. Interestingly, science has just reached major breakthroughs with such devices as the K-2 meter and the SB-7 spirit box, which are physical devices proven to pick up spiritual activity. So I think it would be accurate to say that no one really dies, they just transition to their true state of being which is the same for all of us, for all life in my opinion. That's right, included are birds and bees and butterflies in my theory as well. All life continues after death, everything, nothing is left out.
MR: Your new Am-Pol Eagle series, The Facebook of Poland, is another delight to read. What made you decide to write a one-on-one reflection of these people you met along the road?
AO: Thanks kindly. My original series detailing the Ostrowski family pilgrimage to Poland back in 2001 went across very well with very positive reader reviews which I was absolutely thrilled about. But there was some unfinished business let's say, in that several of the folks we met on our clockwise tour of the country received cursory mention and in the back of my mind I was thinking, hey, an entire book can be written about some of these folks. That's when I decided to offer the Facebook series profiling individuals we met and sharing their story with everyone.
MR: We have an increasingly large body of subscribers interested in sports. Poland is a big sporting country with soccer stars, skiers, tennis standouts, and boxers. Cycling too, which leads me to my next question since you're a big fan of it, how long have you been bicycling and can you tell us some of your experiences along the way?
AO: I've been riding the iron horse since I was about 10 years old or so. Iron then, now we're talking carbon fiber and the like. I had a stint during the late 1980's on the USCF calendar of races but nothing dramatic. Raced a bit here and there with a handful of amateur pick-ups in France while visiting my sister during the summers and luckily avoided the pelvic-crushing category 5 crashes. My first race, in 1985 was at a high school in Ramapo, NJ. It was a criterium, which traversed a closed-circuit course. Bang! I narrowly escaped a massive pile up crash just behind me because some jerk decided he was a star by cutting across the lane to get to the front of the peloton, a no-no in cycling etiquette. We were all pleased, especially those wearing bloody elbows and ripped lycra to watch him get disqualified by the officials. Otherwise cycling is an enjoyable sport, tough, and expensive.
MR: Your website, AndrewOstrowski.com, dedicates a whole section to animals and the subject resonates with a lot of people here in Poland. You talk very philosophically about animal life. Do you think laws should be established preventing researchers from using animals for drug and cosmetic testing?
AO: That would be great, but it's never going to happen. Society needs it's hairspray and pain killers far too much to be cognizant of animal welfare, regrettably. It is an absolute tragedy what is happening to animals today. Granted shelters and the ASPCA do a fine job at promoting adoption, but they make one big mistake. Consider that 70% of all sheltered pets in populated urban areas are euthanized within a few months if unadopted. What really bothers me is the stupidity of euthanizing such an animal after it has been spayed or neutered, cleaned up and given disease-preventative shots. If nobody adopts it, why not release the animal back into the wild where it would now have a good chance to live? People forget that animals have instinctual means of survival. A cat for example, can easily survive by catching birds and mice. But the bigger question is, is it really that burdensome and costly to maintain a sheltered animal? No. If society really wanted to, it could build bigger cages and give them some degree of humane treatment as orphans. I become so sad after leaving a shelter knowing that some of these little ones won't be alive next week because we fail to act fully.
MR: How do your Polish American meat readers take to your non-Polish veggie-only diet? What is your favorite Polish food?
AO: I figured you'd throw that first question in! So far I've not met too much resistance, although I cannot see the frowns behind closed doors. Look, I applaud the traditional foods and consider them integral to Polish culture. But health is an important issue which means that for the informed individual, some degree of moderation with foods containing sodium nitrate, a proven cancer causing ingredient, should be taken. I also subscribe to the ethical reasons for not eating meat, being an animal lover. I wear no leather too. My favorite Polish food is placki with sea salt.
MR: For the sake of our young lady readers, may I invade your privacy by asking if you have a Polish sweetheart?
AO: Who, what, when? Just kidding, I wouldn't consider it an invasion. At the moment, there is no Polish princess atop a parapet for whom I serenade with mandolin. I guess I am still searching from castle to castle.
MR: Finally, what advice would you give to a young reader who aspires to promote Polish heritage, culture, and arts and what kind of role model should they follow?
AO: I would suggest they hold firmly to their efforts and strive to establish the backbone of tradition which has been the hallmark of Polish culture for eons. Along the way they'll probably encounter those looking to nibble away and alter that backbone, be it in regards to faith or fabric, but the key is to stay strong which only gains more respect in the end. As for role models, in recent years we've seen some pitfalls of Polish American sports and business figureheads, which only enforces the approach taken by our true mentors, such as Karol Wojtyla and Carl Yastrzemski. That's the approach we should take, let's take it.
I was recently asked if I'd once again be willing to answer a few questions in support of my longtime fellow journalist friend's hometown newspaper in Warsaw where she is a columnist. I humbly agreed...
Maria Radomska: Andrew, it's been a few years since we last chatted for an interview, so thanks once again for giving me the time for my community newspaper here in Poland. We're not the NY Times but still have an eager audience! How are you and your family to start things off?
Andrew Ostrowski: Thank you Maria. It's always a pleasure to chat with you. I'm happy you are still running strong with your newspaper and honored for the opportunity to chat. My family is doing well thanks! My father has been in and out of the hospital but he's doing better, just got to keep a lookout of course.
MR: Your Am-Pol Eagle columns have a following here in Poland, mostly Rzeszow I hear. I'm not a scientific pollster but I know Poles in general have an affinity for Polish Americans such as you who are proud of their heritage and who set good examples for them to follow. Do you think Poles moving to the U.S.A. are in danger of losing their own culture in small ways maybe?
AO: It's a privilege to have an international outreach and I too have an affinity for them as well. Your question brings back memories of a young woman I met on my family's pilgrimage to Poland a dozen years ago. She spoke along similar lines and yes, I do think there is a real danger of cultural gentrification so to speak. The problem may be that in striving for the American Dream, many immigrants are suddenly given so much opportunity and freedom that it makes their previous lifestyles appear to be shackled. Too much freedom may actually not be a good thing when introduced so quickly. Pretty soon going to weekly Mass turns to biweekly, budgeted dollars are now spent wastefully, and Capitalism competes with Christianity in a manner of speaking. Polish culture can be preserved, and it has been with many immigrants, but too many are losing it.
MR: Do you feel Poland's government is doing its best at aligning itself with America and what examples should it take from the democratic process?
AO: I've always stated and will continue to state that Poland is actually doing more than its best at befriending American interests. I say that with a bit of chagrin because in my opinion, you know, you can't just give in to another country's beckoning all the time because it weakens your own image a bit. Of course, allegiance with some decisions are appropriate, but when you have Poland first at the door to accept a U.S. policy decision, I find myself thinking, wait a minute here. As far as the democratic process, I'd like to see Poland (as well as the U.S.) introduce more parties. To think everything is either Republican or Democratic, or even Independent, is ridiculous. I myself have multiple agreements and disagreements with various parties and no one party seems to attract me entirely.
MR: Spirituality is something you write about a lot. Do you think people around the world are getting more serious about faith or is that topic on the decline? I will ask you the common question too, do you believe in ghosts and why or why not?
AO: I absolutely adore spirituality and as opposed to the Star Trekkers, I think it is the final frontier. Proportionally I would say that interest in spirits and souls has increased globally, but unfortunately also increasing simultaneously are secular values, causing people to favor unfaithful lives. I will point out that the important thing to see in this tragedy is that choices for good and bad don't seem to be consciously made anymore, but rather people's lives automatically shift towards paganistic values without them actually realizing it due to culture pressure. Flip your TV channel, so many popular movies, i.e. James Bond, now display casual sex as if this is acceptable, and it appears like society considers it acceptable, that's the problem. You can't have an authentic faith and be in-sync with society at the same time, let's face it. But then again, it has never been popular being a faithful person. I certainly do believe in ghosts. Interestingly, science has just reached major breakthroughs with such devices as the K-2 meter and the SB-7 spirit box, which are physical devices proven to pick up spiritual activity. So I think it would be accurate to say that no one really dies, they just transition to their true state of being which is the same for all of us, for all life in my opinion. That's right, included are birds and bees and butterflies in my theory as well. All life continues after death, everything, nothing is left out.
MR: Your new Am-Pol Eagle series, The Facebook of Poland, is another delight to read. What made you decide to write a one-on-one reflection of these people you met along the road?
AO: Thanks kindly. My original series detailing the Ostrowski family pilgrimage to Poland back in 2001 went across very well with very positive reader reviews which I was absolutely thrilled about. But there was some unfinished business let's say, in that several of the folks we met on our clockwise tour of the country received cursory mention and in the back of my mind I was thinking, hey, an entire book can be written about some of these folks. That's when I decided to offer the Facebook series profiling individuals we met and sharing their story with everyone.
MR: We have an increasingly large body of subscribers interested in sports. Poland is a big sporting country with soccer stars, skiers, tennis standouts, and boxers. Cycling too, which leads me to my next question since you're a big fan of it, how long have you been bicycling and can you tell us some of your experiences along the way?
AO: I've been riding the iron horse since I was about 10 years old or so. Iron then, now we're talking carbon fiber and the like. I had a stint during the late 1980's on the USCF calendar of races but nothing dramatic. Raced a bit here and there with a handful of amateur pick-ups in France while visiting my sister during the summers and luckily avoided the pelvic-crushing category 5 crashes. My first race, in 1985 was at a high school in Ramapo, NJ. It was a criterium, which traversed a closed-circuit course. Bang! I narrowly escaped a massive pile up crash just behind me because some jerk decided he was a star by cutting across the lane to get to the front of the peloton, a no-no in cycling etiquette. We were all pleased, especially those wearing bloody elbows and ripped lycra to watch him get disqualified by the officials. Otherwise cycling is an enjoyable sport, tough, and expensive.
MR: Your website, AndrewOstrowski.com, dedicates a whole section to animals and the subject resonates with a lot of people here in Poland. You talk very philosophically about animal life. Do you think laws should be established preventing researchers from using animals for drug and cosmetic testing?
AO: That would be great, but it's never going to happen. Society needs it's hairspray and pain killers far too much to be cognizant of animal welfare, regrettably. It is an absolute tragedy what is happening to animals today. Granted shelters and the ASPCA do a fine job at promoting adoption, but they make one big mistake. Consider that 70% of all sheltered pets in populated urban areas are euthanized within a few months if unadopted. What really bothers me is the stupidity of euthanizing such an animal after it has been spayed or neutered, cleaned up and given disease-preventative shots. If nobody adopts it, why not release the animal back into the wild where it would now have a good chance to live? People forget that animals have instinctual means of survival. A cat for example, can easily survive by catching birds and mice. But the bigger question is, is it really that burdensome and costly to maintain a sheltered animal? No. If society really wanted to, it could build bigger cages and give them some degree of humane treatment as orphans. I become so sad after leaving a shelter knowing that some of these little ones won't be alive next week because we fail to act fully.
MR: How do your Polish American meat readers take to your non-Polish veggie-only diet? What is your favorite Polish food?
AO: I figured you'd throw that first question in! So far I've not met too much resistance, although I cannot see the frowns behind closed doors. Look, I applaud the traditional foods and consider them integral to Polish culture. But health is an important issue which means that for the informed individual, some degree of moderation with foods containing sodium nitrate, a proven cancer causing ingredient, should be taken. I also subscribe to the ethical reasons for not eating meat, being an animal lover. I wear no leather too. My favorite Polish food is placki with sea salt.
MR: For the sake of our young lady readers, may I invade your privacy by asking if you have a Polish sweetheart?
AO: Who, what, when? Just kidding, I wouldn't consider it an invasion. At the moment, there is no Polish princess atop a parapet for whom I serenade with mandolin. I guess I am still searching from castle to castle.
MR: Finally, what advice would you give to a young reader who aspires to promote Polish heritage, culture, and arts and what kind of role model should they follow?
AO: I would suggest they hold firmly to their efforts and strive to establish the backbone of tradition which has been the hallmark of Polish culture for eons. Along the way they'll probably encounter those looking to nibble away and alter that backbone, be it in regards to faith or fabric, but the key is to stay strong which only gains more respect in the end. As for role models, in recent years we've seen some pitfalls of Polish American sports and business figureheads, which only enforces the approach taken by our true mentors, such as Karol Wojtyla and Carl Yastrzemski. That's the approach we should take, let's take it.
Ahh, Ancient Aliens
Were we visited by extra-terrestrials eons ago who imparted advanced knowledge and physics into the minds of primitive Man which can only explain how, for example, the Pyramids of Egypt were built so precisely and in perfect alignment with Stonehenge and Easter Island and how the stones of the ancient city of Puma Punku, Bolivia could be cut so razor sharp and precise that today's modern lasers cannot even achieve such exactitude? "Yes, proof enough, we were visited by ancient aliens", so say the soothsayers! ...No, we were not, say I.
I find it interesting and quite gullible how so many viewers of these television programs can abandon their own intellect and become suckered in to the rather compelling disposition of these T.V. show hosts, who even though PhD's, have probably themselves given up all reason for this starry-eyed dream. We do have minds of our own, unfortunately nobody wants to think for themselves, but prefer to adapt their life to whatever the zeitgeist is. I further find it bizarre, but not surprising, to hear the one-sided approach taken by proponents of these theories who never show you the flip side of the coin. Like...
Puma Punku, for example. How could all of these colossal stones be cut so perfectly by a virtual "caveman" type of society running around sacrificing themselves to the gods and drinking tons of cocoa? Surely somebody from outer space followed the Nazca Lines geoglyphs carved into the land and gave them the know-how? Think a bit more.
What the shows do not tell you is that ancient Man indeed devoted their entire life to the gods so much so that every moment of their lives, from birth to death, involved countless hours (if a clock existed then!) of service in order to please the gods and gain favor for the afterlife. In layman's terms, that means generation after generation after generation of these peoples performed redundant, meticulous work at for example, building a city or structure. Just think, a 10 year old spends 16 hours a day for 75 years using basic tools to carve a groove into a stone. He does this because his culture believes that will please the gods and when he dies, his spirit will be one with the gods. His son does the same, and then his son's son, and so on. When you consider the fact that ancient cultures lived this way for multiple generations, it becomes quite fathomable to understand how a razor sharp tongue and groove fitted stone could be achieved. But we find that hard to believe, how 12 generations of people could work at carving the same groove to perfection. That, in fact, was the case. By the way, these TV shows also don't tell you that geoglyphs, rather than being landing maps for spaceships, were actually burial landmarks so the gods would know were the culture's dead were. One host even totes an ancient Incan lapel pin which he claims is an extra-terrestrial airship because it sports a tail piece resembling a Boeing 747. He would be wise to open up a book on ancient exotic birds only to discover that many Central American species, now extinct, looked precisely like his pin.
Oh, ancient structure A in the U.K. is on a perfect line with ancient structure B in Asia which is also on a perfect line with ancient structure C in South America. Ah ha! Proof that aliens had something to do with that alignment, right? Wrong, when you stop to consider that astronomy was proportionally more advanced in ancient times than it is today. The ancients knew far too much about the stars and spacial alignment which they used to plan their cities, structures, births, deaths, and everything in between.
Ancient aliens? Rather, it only takes a few seconds to think once in awhile...
Moon Gardening
As you may know, I am an avid gardener. As May means gardening time, I thought to do a little pondering over something I heard on a reputable television talk-show. Take a look at the Farmer's Almanac gardening schedule day by day for the month of May. Look closely, then read the question I pose, then start scratching your head like me in absolute lunacy...
May 2013
1st Plant Late Beets, Potatoes, Onions, Carrots, And Other Root Crops.
2nd-3rd Kill Plant Pests On These Barren Days.
4th-6th Favorable Time For Planting Late Root Crops. Also Good For Vine Crops That Can Be Planted Now.
Set Strawberry Plants. Good Days For Transplanting.
7th-8th Poor Planting, Fine For Cultivating Or Spraying.
9th-11th Favorable For Planting Beans, Corn, Cotton, Tomatoes, Peppers, And Other Aboveground Crops.
12th-13th Any Seed Planted Now Will Tend To Rot.
14th-15th Most Favorable For Planting Corn, Cotton, Okra, Beans, Peppers, Eggplant, And Other
Aboveground Crops. Plant Seedbeds And Flower Gardens.
16th-19th A Barren Period. Good For Killing Plant Pests, Cultivating, Or Taking A Short Vacation.
20th-21st Excellent Time For Planting Corn, Beans, Peppers, And Other Aboveground Crops. Favorable For
Sowing Hay, Fodder Crops, And Grains. Plant Flowers.
22nd-24th Excellent For Planting Aboveground Crops, Starting Seedbeds And Planting Leafy Vegetables.
25th-26th Do No Planting.
27th-28th Plant Late Beets, Potatoes, Onions, Carrots, And Other Root Crops.
29th-31st Kill Plant Pests On These Barren Days.
My question concerns this moon phase planting schedule. It indicates the precise days when to plant and when not to plant. Can someone please convince me how planting an above ground plant on May 24th, 2013 is great as it indicates, but not one day later on the 25th? My argument would be that it takes days if not weeks for the plant to become established once planted, probably having gone through multiple lunar cycles before it takes root. For seeds, this is even more apparent, yet, on this schedule it says seeds will rot if planted on the 13th but not on the 14th. Why specify an exactitude of days, when perhaps the real factor is the temperature? I agree that the moon's force may draw moisture to the surface more, but explain logically to me how one-day differences can make or break a plant's growth and yield? Moon gardening, lunar-cy?
Poles Shine Strong on Sagan's 69th Anniversary
On the night of March 24th, 1944, 220 POWs at the Stalag Luft III prison camp in what is now Sagan, Poland lie secretly in waiting for what was undoubtedly the greatest escape ever in the annals of war, and we have a few Poles to thank for it. As I’ve mentioned before, the 1963 film The Great Escape is one of my favorites. Here now is a glimpse of the true story of that escape, spurred on by a handful of crafty artisans including a Polish architect and a Polish muscleman. Let’s take a look.
The “Big X” Committee
Central to the entire escape operation was the so-called “X” organization, headed by RAF Squadron Leader Roger Bushell and Group Captains Harry “Wings” Day and Herbert Massey. After Day was transferred to an Officers-only camp midway into the escape’s planning, Massey took control as SBO, or Senior British Officer. Together they assembled the best escape artists in the entire camp for a cumulative effort at blitzing out a proposed 250 men through 3 tunnels! But it was the 33-year-old South African born Bushell who was the absolute mastermind of the entire operation, earlier being black-booked by the Gestapo as a potential trouble-maker. Bushell’s goal was to cause the Nazis so much ruckus that they would be forced to divert soldiers away from the battlefield to find the escapees. It worked.
Brains and Brawn
For those of you familiar with The Great Escape, you will recall Charles Bronson playing the part of Danny Velinski, tunnel king. In actuality, Bronson’s role was an amalgamation of several real men, principal among them being Flying Officer (F/O) Stanislaw Krol. This muscle-bound Polish workhorse, who celebrated his 28th birthday just two days before the escape, was largely responsible for boring out the tunnels. But escaping through a tunnel was only as good as its concealment, and that is where Polish architect Wlodzimierz Kolanowski lended his expertise in designing the tunnel traps. Kolanowski placed entrances to two of the tunnels directly underneath hot stoves located in the center of the huts which the POWs moved via a pair of bed boards, greatly reducing the likelihood that a German escape detection guard, or “ferret”, would discover them. The other entrance was placed underneath a shower drain, with pipes rerouted and a 2’x2’ removable cutout being made in the tile floor which could be quickly put back in place.
Key Players
An integral part of the escape involved a potpourri of talents from POW “experts” in particular fields. Among them was the Scrounger who was responsible for acquiring everything from tools to timetables through blackmail, deception, and theft. The Manufacturer’s task was to produce equipment designed to get the job done. Escape outfits were the responsibility of the Tailor, who often dyed RAF uniforms to resemble gentleman’s lounge suits. Security and Diversion experts such as F/O Pawel Tobolski worked hand in hand, some organizing singing choirs to offset any noticeable noise during tunnel construction. Dispersal men had the especially difficult job of camouflaging roughly 200 tons of dug tunnel sand and dirt. And escapees could only stay free thanks to the Forger, whose job was to produce counterfeit documents, business cards, train tickets, and Ausweise passes (permission to be on Reich property).
The Great Escape
Tom, Dick, and Harry were the names of the three tunnels. Unfortunately Tom was discovered and destroyed, while work on Dick was halted due to new above-ground hut construction. But Harry proved successful. Imagine what it was like descending 28 feet below ground, then riding a trolley railway 336 feet within a 2’x2’ opening. Several POWs withdrew due to claustrophobia. A false alarm occurred when Tobolski entered hut 104 dressed as a German soldier, his escape outfit! Nevertheless on that heroic night, the POWs proceeded to escape, despite the tunnel exit being 30 feet short of the woods, a surveying blunder requiring a rope signal to be set up. As man after man emerged and darted into the woods, unfortunately a misinterpreted tug on the rope exposed an escapee to the guards as whistles blew, leaving a total of 76 men temporarily escaping.
The Aftermath
73 of those men were eventually caught, with only three making it to freedom. Infuriated by the escape, Hitler immediately ordered all 73 to be executed, however was persuaded to settle on a lesser number. 50 escapees were then brought to remote locations and shot in cold blood. Among them were Bushell, Krol, Kolanowski, Tobolski, Major Antoni Kiewnarski, and Flying Officers Jerzy Mondschein and Kazimierz Pawluk. Their ashes are buried in the Old Garrison Cemetery in Poznan, Poland. We honor these men.
On the night of March 24th, 1944, 220 POWs at the Stalag Luft III prison camp in what is now Sagan, Poland lie secretly in waiting for what was undoubtedly the greatest escape ever in the annals of war, and we have a few Poles to thank for it. As I’ve mentioned before, the 1963 film The Great Escape is one of my favorites. Here now is a glimpse of the true story of that escape, spurred on by a handful of crafty artisans including a Polish architect and a Polish muscleman. Let’s take a look.
The “Big X” Committee
Central to the entire escape operation was the so-called “X” organization, headed by RAF Squadron Leader Roger Bushell and Group Captains Harry “Wings” Day and Herbert Massey. After Day was transferred to an Officers-only camp midway into the escape’s planning, Massey took control as SBO, or Senior British Officer. Together they assembled the best escape artists in the entire camp for a cumulative effort at blitzing out a proposed 250 men through 3 tunnels! But it was the 33-year-old South African born Bushell who was the absolute mastermind of the entire operation, earlier being black-booked by the Gestapo as a potential trouble-maker. Bushell’s goal was to cause the Nazis so much ruckus that they would be forced to divert soldiers away from the battlefield to find the escapees. It worked.
Brains and Brawn
For those of you familiar with The Great Escape, you will recall Charles Bronson playing the part of Danny Velinski, tunnel king. In actuality, Bronson’s role was an amalgamation of several real men, principal among them being Flying Officer (F/O) Stanislaw Krol. This muscle-bound Polish workhorse, who celebrated his 28th birthday just two days before the escape, was largely responsible for boring out the tunnels. But escaping through a tunnel was only as good as its concealment, and that is where Polish architect Wlodzimierz Kolanowski lended his expertise in designing the tunnel traps. Kolanowski placed entrances to two of the tunnels directly underneath hot stoves located in the center of the huts which the POWs moved via a pair of bed boards, greatly reducing the likelihood that a German escape detection guard, or “ferret”, would discover them. The other entrance was placed underneath a shower drain, with pipes rerouted and a 2’x2’ removable cutout being made in the tile floor which could be quickly put back in place.
Key Players
An integral part of the escape involved a potpourri of talents from POW “experts” in particular fields. Among them was the Scrounger who was responsible for acquiring everything from tools to timetables through blackmail, deception, and theft. The Manufacturer’s task was to produce equipment designed to get the job done. Escape outfits were the responsibility of the Tailor, who often dyed RAF uniforms to resemble gentleman’s lounge suits. Security and Diversion experts such as F/O Pawel Tobolski worked hand in hand, some organizing singing choirs to offset any noticeable noise during tunnel construction. Dispersal men had the especially difficult job of camouflaging roughly 200 tons of dug tunnel sand and dirt. And escapees could only stay free thanks to the Forger, whose job was to produce counterfeit documents, business cards, train tickets, and Ausweise passes (permission to be on Reich property).
The Great Escape
Tom, Dick, and Harry were the names of the three tunnels. Unfortunately Tom was discovered and destroyed, while work on Dick was halted due to new above-ground hut construction. But Harry proved successful. Imagine what it was like descending 28 feet below ground, then riding a trolley railway 336 feet within a 2’x2’ opening. Several POWs withdrew due to claustrophobia. A false alarm occurred when Tobolski entered hut 104 dressed as a German soldier, his escape outfit! Nevertheless on that heroic night, the POWs proceeded to escape, despite the tunnel exit being 30 feet short of the woods, a surveying blunder requiring a rope signal to be set up. As man after man emerged and darted into the woods, unfortunately a misinterpreted tug on the rope exposed an escapee to the guards as whistles blew, leaving a total of 76 men temporarily escaping.
The Aftermath
73 of those men were eventually caught, with only three making it to freedom. Infuriated by the escape, Hitler immediately ordered all 73 to be executed, however was persuaded to settle on a lesser number. 50 escapees were then brought to remote locations and shot in cold blood. Among them were Bushell, Krol, Kolanowski, Tobolski, Major Antoni Kiewnarski, and Flying Officers Jerzy Mondschein and Kazimierz Pawluk. Their ashes are buried in the Old Garrison Cemetery in Poznan, Poland. We honor these men.
Asking Questions along the Via Crucis
I. JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH - Imagine that you are standing on the Lithostrotos, the first station, where Christ was condemned by Pontius Pilate, scourged, spat at, and crowned with thorns. Ask yourself: “How often have you too been scourged for defending what is right and unpopular?”
II. JESUS CARRIES HIS CROSS - “Ecce Homo” (Behold the Man) said Pilate as he presented the cross-carrying Jesus to the approving crowd. Be truthful, do you find yourself going along with the crowd on issues like abortion and contraception, or do you resist giving in to “the popular vote?”
III. JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME - A white-stoned Polish chapel marks this station. Obviously out of energy and burning his own muscle cells, Jesus succumbs to the weight of the cross. Are you willing to expend your energy and fall down in defense of Christ because of controversy, rejection or unpopularity?
IV. JESUS MEETS HIS AFFLICTED MOTHER - Just before the long climb up the Via Dolorosa, you can only imagine what facial expression Mary had at the sight of her son. When was the last time you examined your life and said: “Would my mother be proud of me, am I doing things according to God’s will?”
V. SIMON OF CYRENE IS FORCED TO HELP CARRY THE CROSS - Rather than have their “prize” cheated from them, the Roman soldiers pressed an onlooker into involuntary service. How often do you volunteer yourself through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving?
VI. VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS - Veronica must have been like a “needle in the haystack” for showing care and compassion as she wiped the bloody sweat from Christ’s face. Be honest and ask yourself: are you more like the needle or more like the haystack?
VII. JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME - A tiny Franciscan chapel marks the station where Jesus’ death notice was placed for all to see. What do you want your own obituary (your death notice) to say when it’s published in the newspaper?
VIII. JESUS MEETS THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM - “Don’t weep for me, but rather weep for your children” as Christ told these women. He means your children. What are you doing about it?
IX. JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME - Christ would have easily been able to see the rock of Calvary in the short distance. Yet, he got up again on his own and continued towards his death. Is your soul prepared for death?
X. JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS - Jesus’ clothes were stripped to humiliate him because the body was considered a sacred vessel. When channel surfing, do you change your television channel when you come across movies displaying nudity and encouraging sins of the flesh?
XI. JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS - Left wrist, nailed. Right wrist, nailed. Two feet crossed, nailed. His hands and feet were vehicles of doing good. Do you have symbolic “nail holes” in your hands and in your feet? If not, then why not?
XII. JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS - You are standing on Calvary and reminded of the coldness of Christ’s death, that it was not the scourging, or crowning with thorns, or weight of the cross that made him suffer so much. Rather, it was our own sins. Have you been to Confession? If not, your sins contribute to his ongoing suffering.
XIII. JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS - You remind yourself of the late John Paul II’s funeral. He was glorified because he tried his best to be perfect like Christ. Are you trying your best to be perfect, why not?
XIV. JESUS IS PLACED IN THE SEPULCHER – You’ve arrived at the final station, the dimly lit Tomb of Christ. When you die, will your soul have earned enough electricity to light up your way, or will you be left behind in the dark with the millions who chose not to live for Christ? Keep your battery charged.
I. JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH - Imagine that you are standing on the Lithostrotos, the first station, where Christ was condemned by Pontius Pilate, scourged, spat at, and crowned with thorns. Ask yourself: “How often have you too been scourged for defending what is right and unpopular?”
II. JESUS CARRIES HIS CROSS - “Ecce Homo” (Behold the Man) said Pilate as he presented the cross-carrying Jesus to the approving crowd. Be truthful, do you find yourself going along with the crowd on issues like abortion and contraception, or do you resist giving in to “the popular vote?”
III. JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME - A white-stoned Polish chapel marks this station. Obviously out of energy and burning his own muscle cells, Jesus succumbs to the weight of the cross. Are you willing to expend your energy and fall down in defense of Christ because of controversy, rejection or unpopularity?
IV. JESUS MEETS HIS AFFLICTED MOTHER - Just before the long climb up the Via Dolorosa, you can only imagine what facial expression Mary had at the sight of her son. When was the last time you examined your life and said: “Would my mother be proud of me, am I doing things according to God’s will?”
V. SIMON OF CYRENE IS FORCED TO HELP CARRY THE CROSS - Rather than have their “prize” cheated from them, the Roman soldiers pressed an onlooker into involuntary service. How often do you volunteer yourself through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving?
VI. VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS - Veronica must have been like a “needle in the haystack” for showing care and compassion as she wiped the bloody sweat from Christ’s face. Be honest and ask yourself: are you more like the needle or more like the haystack?
VII. JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME - A tiny Franciscan chapel marks the station where Jesus’ death notice was placed for all to see. What do you want your own obituary (your death notice) to say when it’s published in the newspaper?
VIII. JESUS MEETS THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM - “Don’t weep for me, but rather weep for your children” as Christ told these women. He means your children. What are you doing about it?
IX. JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME - Christ would have easily been able to see the rock of Calvary in the short distance. Yet, he got up again on his own and continued towards his death. Is your soul prepared for death?
X. JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS - Jesus’ clothes were stripped to humiliate him because the body was considered a sacred vessel. When channel surfing, do you change your television channel when you come across movies displaying nudity and encouraging sins of the flesh?
XI. JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS - Left wrist, nailed. Right wrist, nailed. Two feet crossed, nailed. His hands and feet were vehicles of doing good. Do you have symbolic “nail holes” in your hands and in your feet? If not, then why not?
XII. JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS - You are standing on Calvary and reminded of the coldness of Christ’s death, that it was not the scourging, or crowning with thorns, or weight of the cross that made him suffer so much. Rather, it was our own sins. Have you been to Confession? If not, your sins contribute to his ongoing suffering.
XIII. JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS - You remind yourself of the late John Paul II’s funeral. He was glorified because he tried his best to be perfect like Christ. Are you trying your best to be perfect, why not?
XIV. JESUS IS PLACED IN THE SEPULCHER – You’ve arrived at the final station, the dimly lit Tomb of Christ. When you die, will your soul have earned enough electricity to light up your way, or will you be left behind in the dark with the millions who chose not to live for Christ? Keep your battery charged.
God Help Our Senior Citizens
After witnessing the ordeal my father had to endure during his recent hospital stay, I want to enlighten those of you who might one day consider institutionalizing your senior loved one for that tender loving care you may think is provided. While I agree that a decision to admit a senior to a nursing home or rehabilitation center may sometimes be necessary, I urge you to reconsider. In short, you can’t remove a senior citizen from their home of many years and expect them to adapt to a new environment. My father’s one week stay in the hospital caused him to lose 21 pounds, become depressed, develop a lung infection, and immobility to the point where the doctor recommended that he be checked into a rehab center for physical therapy. But should we be surprised that so many senior citizens enter a hospital or nursing home for reasons other than being sick, but then actually get sick because they’re in the hospital or nursing home? Sure, they feed you, but half the time an elderly person can’t reach the tray. And if it’s reachable, the food is terrible. My father got malnourished after a week of only being able to eat tapioca pudding and ice cream. Thank God I got him out of there and declined the rehab center, where I’m certain he would have died. He is now comfortably back in his home among his family. My senior friends, please talk to your children now and insist they keep you in the warm, comfortable, and familiar embrace of your own home. As Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz, “There’s no place like home”.
After witnessing the ordeal my father had to endure during his recent hospital stay, I want to enlighten those of you who might one day consider institutionalizing your senior loved one for that tender loving care you may think is provided. While I agree that a decision to admit a senior to a nursing home or rehabilitation center may sometimes be necessary, I urge you to reconsider. In short, you can’t remove a senior citizen from their home of many years and expect them to adapt to a new environment. My father’s one week stay in the hospital caused him to lose 21 pounds, become depressed, develop a lung infection, and immobility to the point where the doctor recommended that he be checked into a rehab center for physical therapy. But should we be surprised that so many senior citizens enter a hospital or nursing home for reasons other than being sick, but then actually get sick because they’re in the hospital or nursing home? Sure, they feed you, but half the time an elderly person can’t reach the tray. And if it’s reachable, the food is terrible. My father got malnourished after a week of only being able to eat tapioca pudding and ice cream. Thank God I got him out of there and declined the rehab center, where I’m certain he would have died. He is now comfortably back in his home among his family. My senior friends, please talk to your children now and insist they keep you in the warm, comfortable, and familiar embrace of your own home. As Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz, “There’s no place like home”.
Angels and Demons: The Forgotten Truth
As we still try to fathom what occurred on that fateful day in Newtown, CT, let's take a look at what increasingly is becoming a forgotten truth. As you know, 28 people died that day, 20 of whom were 6-7 year old children at the Sandy Hook Elementary School, 8 adults including the killer’s mother, and of course the killer who committed suicide. Death at any age is sad, but since this incident involved twenty young children, I think it is appropriate to focus on them to better understand my point. Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Ana Marquez-Greene, Dylan Hockley, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, and Allison Wyatt are the youngsters who lost their lives as viciously as can be imagined. One of the children was 7 year old Chase Kowalski, who was pictured in last week’s issue of the Am-Pol Eagle. This boy’s parents seemed to exemplify the sentiment of the entire parental group with their words of faith and hope. Indeed, as Msgr. Robert Weiss, pastor of the boy’s parish of St. Rose of Lima pointed out, “This whole community was very devoted and rich in their faith.”
In the days following this tragedy, as you probably noticed too, there was an incredible outpouring of emotion from virtually the entire world. It was truly heartwarming to see so many people offering condolences, assistance, and prayers to everyone affected. But what I found particularly disturbing was that, upon hearing multitudes of reporters, interviewees, moralists, ethicists, priests, ministers, talk-show hosts and even the President speak, not one of them, NOT ONE, even to the smallest extent, mentioned that this tragedy could have been the work of the Devil. Respectfully, the crux of my point being that, ironically, these same people were sincerely falling to their knees, offering prayers and truly invoking God and his angels so much so that tears were coming out of their eyes. Why, my friends, if we give so much credence to believing in God, heaven, and angels, do we give zero credence to the existence of Satan, hell, and demons? Is it some kind of immature and unpopular notion in our “modern day” to consider that Satan, the Devil, negative energy, or call it what you like, can spur-on some people’s malevolent actions? Or is that merely old-fashioned folklore that got replaced with modern man’s intellectualism? Yes, the perpetrator of this crime had a mild mental condition, however had no history of violence, but came from a split family, had no apparent faith belief, was isolated, rejected, and in the vicinity of deadly weapons. Is that not an “open wound” waiting to be infected by evil? We just saw a similar incident happen in Webster, NY with the killer using the exact same modus operandi. Sure we should genuinely try to find the root cause of these terrible tragedies, looking meticulously at background histories, drugs, peers, and even do autopsies on the killers. But to neglect consideration of which we hold to be true, that being belief in spiritual forces, as a possible cause, is clearly hypocritically foolish. If we believe that God and his angels exist and have power, we should equally believe that Satan and his demons exist and have power. As I’ve said before in past columns, evil makes itself known very obviously, its hallmark evident usually around major religious holidays like Easter and in this case, Christmas. Are not 6-7 year old children the perfect examples of innocence, love, and grace? To fire three to eleven bullet shots in the faces of each of these twenty children as was done was undoubtedly meant to extinguish and obliterate that innocence, love, and grace in light of the Christ child’s coming. Yet there is a bigger question to ask, and that is, do we ourselves have “open wounds” being infected to a smaller extent? Is evil perhaps ever so subtly entering our thoughts and actions? In what ways are we extinguishing that which is good? My friends, if there is a God, it stands to reason there is a Devil. Perhaps our “intellect” in surveying multitudes of excuses for heinous acts such as this is Satan’s greatest asset. Maybe we can learn a lesson from little Chase Kowalski and his classmates in keeping our thoughts angelically pure as theirs were, enabling us not to forget that evil equally exists all around us.
As we still try to fathom what occurred on that fateful day in Newtown, CT, let's take a look at what increasingly is becoming a forgotten truth. As you know, 28 people died that day, 20 of whom were 6-7 year old children at the Sandy Hook Elementary School, 8 adults including the killer’s mother, and of course the killer who committed suicide. Death at any age is sad, but since this incident involved twenty young children, I think it is appropriate to focus on them to better understand my point. Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Ana Marquez-Greene, Dylan Hockley, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, and Allison Wyatt are the youngsters who lost their lives as viciously as can be imagined. One of the children was 7 year old Chase Kowalski, who was pictured in last week’s issue of the Am-Pol Eagle. This boy’s parents seemed to exemplify the sentiment of the entire parental group with their words of faith and hope. Indeed, as Msgr. Robert Weiss, pastor of the boy’s parish of St. Rose of Lima pointed out, “This whole community was very devoted and rich in their faith.”
In the days following this tragedy, as you probably noticed too, there was an incredible outpouring of emotion from virtually the entire world. It was truly heartwarming to see so many people offering condolences, assistance, and prayers to everyone affected. But what I found particularly disturbing was that, upon hearing multitudes of reporters, interviewees, moralists, ethicists, priests, ministers, talk-show hosts and even the President speak, not one of them, NOT ONE, even to the smallest extent, mentioned that this tragedy could have been the work of the Devil. Respectfully, the crux of my point being that, ironically, these same people were sincerely falling to their knees, offering prayers and truly invoking God and his angels so much so that tears were coming out of their eyes. Why, my friends, if we give so much credence to believing in God, heaven, and angels, do we give zero credence to the existence of Satan, hell, and demons? Is it some kind of immature and unpopular notion in our “modern day” to consider that Satan, the Devil, negative energy, or call it what you like, can spur-on some people’s malevolent actions? Or is that merely old-fashioned folklore that got replaced with modern man’s intellectualism? Yes, the perpetrator of this crime had a mild mental condition, however had no history of violence, but came from a split family, had no apparent faith belief, was isolated, rejected, and in the vicinity of deadly weapons. Is that not an “open wound” waiting to be infected by evil? We just saw a similar incident happen in Webster, NY with the killer using the exact same modus operandi. Sure we should genuinely try to find the root cause of these terrible tragedies, looking meticulously at background histories, drugs, peers, and even do autopsies on the killers. But to neglect consideration of which we hold to be true, that being belief in spiritual forces, as a possible cause, is clearly hypocritically foolish. If we believe that God and his angels exist and have power, we should equally believe that Satan and his demons exist and have power. As I’ve said before in past columns, evil makes itself known very obviously, its hallmark evident usually around major religious holidays like Easter and in this case, Christmas. Are not 6-7 year old children the perfect examples of innocence, love, and grace? To fire three to eleven bullet shots in the faces of each of these twenty children as was done was undoubtedly meant to extinguish and obliterate that innocence, love, and grace in light of the Christ child’s coming. Yet there is a bigger question to ask, and that is, do we ourselves have “open wounds” being infected to a smaller extent? Is evil perhaps ever so subtly entering our thoughts and actions? In what ways are we extinguishing that which is good? My friends, if there is a God, it stands to reason there is a Devil. Perhaps our “intellect” in surveying multitudes of excuses for heinous acts such as this is Satan’s greatest asset. Maybe we can learn a lesson from little Chase Kowalski and his classmates in keeping our thoughts angelically pure as theirs were, enabling us not to forget that evil equally exists all around us.
The Energizer Battery of Battle
As of this writing, there is now a cease-fire between Israel and Hamas. But don’t bet on it lasting too long. If you’re scratching your head as I am, need we explain why? It appears the presence of diplomatic peacemakers at the Middle Eastern podium is nothing more than a Vaudeville show, and like a broken record, year after year the same tune keeps playing. Having been to the region three times, let me tell you why this conflict, as the Energizer battery says, keeps going and going and going. What happens when you have a repressed people who have inhabited a land for eons, gradually witness an encroachment by another people who are financially superior? That is a lose-lose situation for them. May we draw an analogy to the American Indian, when Colonial settlers invaded their space, and some went on a scalping rampage? We seem to automatically label some people as “bad” because they fire a rocket and ask the question, “How can they do such awful things?” when perhaps we should be asking, “Why are they doing these things?”
Is Yours a Holiday?
Christmas is just around the corner. If you’ve dropped by Home Depot or Lowe’s, December 25th might seem like tomorrow given the cornucopia of two-story tall air filled balloons of Santa, Rudolph, and the Grinch, strings of lights running the entire length of the store, and every style of ornament decoration this side of the Mississippi. It appears the hoopla is in full swing…yet do we know better? I find it particularly noteworthy to remember that truly authentic celebrations of holidays are primarily supposed to be acknowledgements of Holy days by most ethnicities. For example, where secular society might prepare for Christmas by reveling in a giant Frosty the Snowman balloon, the truly genuine Polish traditionalist might put on an heirloom Koledy phonograph record to sit and meditate on its splendor. As Tiny Tim said, “God bless us, every one.”
The Popular Vote
If you believed my earlier prediction that Barack Obama would win the presidency by 3-5%, you should have legally booked your bet with Las Vegas odds-makers, in which case you’d be a little bit wealthier right now. Indeed, such was the margin in those key battleground states we all stayed up until midnight to watch. What perturbs me is not so much the victory, but how it was attained. Looking at the electoral map of the states, we saw that 2/3 of the country was painted in red, while 1/3 was in blue. What’s wrong with that picture? Even the popular vote went to Romney, who 63% of the people said would do a better job at fixing the economy which was supposedly everyone’s primary concern. Yet he didn’t win. As I’ve always said, perception is everything in politics, regardless of the record. Perhaps it would be true to conclude that Obama did not win this election, rather, that Romney lost it. Now that the election is over, I can simply tell you that my own conscience is somewhat grieved given the fact that another 1.2 million innocent little pre-born kids will be aborted this year, about 3,300 per day, in this modern-day holocaust. As a suggestion, perhaps the church-going Democrats among us who cheered “hoorra!, hoorra!” at that midnight hour might ponder that fact the next time they kneel down in prayer.
But first, to clear up the Democratic rebuttal to my comment that Obama lost the popular vote, indeed he did, if the voting census was measured proportionally. I’m talking about the representational disparity that exists between people living in overcrowded urban areas versus those living in spacious rural areas. Studies indicate that the closer people live to one another, the more likely they vote the same way. Therefore, the balance of Republicans and Democrats is completely skewed based on this fact. So my question is, why should a typical state with “red” covering 98% of its towns lose to “blue” just because a few hundred thousand people living on top of each other in big cities vote the same way given this psycho-social phenomenon?
The definition of “popular vote” is: “a majority decision in choosing a candidate”. The key word is “decision”. Those above studies also indicate that the closer people live to one another, the less likely they are to “decide” for themselves, but instead follow the community trend. That’s why the popular vote is erred due to big city community populaces voting without really “deciding”. Granted some in cities do decide independently, but if you want an accurate measure of popularity, look elsewhere.
As of this writing, there is now a cease-fire between Israel and Hamas. But don’t bet on it lasting too long. If you’re scratching your head as I am, need we explain why? It appears the presence of diplomatic peacemakers at the Middle Eastern podium is nothing more than a Vaudeville show, and like a broken record, year after year the same tune keeps playing. Having been to the region three times, let me tell you why this conflict, as the Energizer battery says, keeps going and going and going. What happens when you have a repressed people who have inhabited a land for eons, gradually witness an encroachment by another people who are financially superior? That is a lose-lose situation for them. May we draw an analogy to the American Indian, when Colonial settlers invaded their space, and some went on a scalping rampage? We seem to automatically label some people as “bad” because they fire a rocket and ask the question, “How can they do such awful things?” when perhaps we should be asking, “Why are they doing these things?”
Is Yours a Holiday?
Christmas is just around the corner. If you’ve dropped by Home Depot or Lowe’s, December 25th might seem like tomorrow given the cornucopia of two-story tall air filled balloons of Santa, Rudolph, and the Grinch, strings of lights running the entire length of the store, and every style of ornament decoration this side of the Mississippi. It appears the hoopla is in full swing…yet do we know better? I find it particularly noteworthy to remember that truly authentic celebrations of holidays are primarily supposed to be acknowledgements of Holy days by most ethnicities. For example, where secular society might prepare for Christmas by reveling in a giant Frosty the Snowman balloon, the truly genuine Polish traditionalist might put on an heirloom Koledy phonograph record to sit and meditate on its splendor. As Tiny Tim said, “God bless us, every one.”
The Popular Vote
If you believed my earlier prediction that Barack Obama would win the presidency by 3-5%, you should have legally booked your bet with Las Vegas odds-makers, in which case you’d be a little bit wealthier right now. Indeed, such was the margin in those key battleground states we all stayed up until midnight to watch. What perturbs me is not so much the victory, but how it was attained. Looking at the electoral map of the states, we saw that 2/3 of the country was painted in red, while 1/3 was in blue. What’s wrong with that picture? Even the popular vote went to Romney, who 63% of the people said would do a better job at fixing the economy which was supposedly everyone’s primary concern. Yet he didn’t win. As I’ve always said, perception is everything in politics, regardless of the record. Perhaps it would be true to conclude that Obama did not win this election, rather, that Romney lost it. Now that the election is over, I can simply tell you that my own conscience is somewhat grieved given the fact that another 1.2 million innocent little pre-born kids will be aborted this year, about 3,300 per day, in this modern-day holocaust. As a suggestion, perhaps the church-going Democrats among us who cheered “hoorra!, hoorra!” at that midnight hour might ponder that fact the next time they kneel down in prayer.
But first, to clear up the Democratic rebuttal to my comment that Obama lost the popular vote, indeed he did, if the voting census was measured proportionally. I’m talking about the representational disparity that exists between people living in overcrowded urban areas versus those living in spacious rural areas. Studies indicate that the closer people live to one another, the more likely they vote the same way. Therefore, the balance of Republicans and Democrats is completely skewed based on this fact. So my question is, why should a typical state with “red” covering 98% of its towns lose to “blue” just because a few hundred thousand people living on top of each other in big cities vote the same way given this psycho-social phenomenon?
The definition of “popular vote” is: “a majority decision in choosing a candidate”. The key word is “decision”. Those above studies also indicate that the closer people live to one another, the less likely they are to “decide” for themselves, but instead follow the community trend. That’s why the popular vote is erred due to big city community populaces voting without really “deciding”. Granted some in cities do decide independently, but if you want an accurate measure of popularity, look elsewhere.
Inside a Suit of Armor
Traditionally, the month of October is tagged as “Arms and Armour” month. (We prefer the classic spelling of Armour!). But how many of us have at least a working knowledge of what absorbed the mind of the medieval period, paving the way for the Renaissance and many of the values and beliefs we hold dear today? If asked, your average street corner pedestrian might very well recollect a time where men drew swords and sported shiny helmets, and yes, maybe you would hear a word or two mention of long-haired damsels in distress atop some castle tower calling for their Romeo. But that's it, a very blunt, uninformed response to what has tragically been a long, lost iconic world. Indeed, even some people categorize anything older than a few centuries in the same class as the dinosaur age.
But let's step into a time machine and take a look at some intricate details of the helm of the "Knight in Shining Armour". For it was this iconic symbol that evolved into our everyday code of chivalrous behavior. If it weren't for the Knight, perhaps we would be living in an entirely greedy, selfish, and unethical world. Originally serving in a protective capacity, or goal is to explore the physical symbol more closely in an effort to remind ourselves of the origins of what we know as being a Knight in Shining Armour.
The enemy is approaching. Are you ready? Then have your loyal squire assist you in mounting your armour for battle...or, if you would prefer to joust, see the link below.
The Pig-Faced Bascinet Helm, Medieval, circa late 14th C.
Smooth Tapered Crest The crest of this helm was intentionally designed to come to a point at the top. This caused any downward sword strike or oncoming lance to deflect off thereby preventing the force to be applied to the helmet and knight.
Narrow Eye Slits An ingenious solution which prevented exposure while simultanously allowing sight. In actuality, an indvidual can see perfectly through a hole no smaller than the eye's pupil. The slits were therefore pupil height. And being that his enemy was around him, not on top of him, peripheral vision was made capable by the elongated slits.
Ventilation Holes Without oxygen, you wouldn't be able to do much in any full contact activity. Holes were therefore drilled into the faceplate, the vast majority being on the right side. Why so? For two reasons. First, most men wielding a sword were right-handed. Even today, most people are right-handed. A right-handed knight's swiftest facial blow landed on his enemy's left cheek. Therefore, the more carbon steel present on that side, the less chance of penetration. Secondly, for pretty much the same reason, even in tournament combat, a charging knight on horseback holding a jousting pole in his right hand would strike his opponent's left side. Hence, the reason for the next point.
Reinforced "Blow" Side Medieval helmets such as the one pictured were typically made of 13 gauge carbon steel. However, within the helmet, certain adjustments were made by the master armourer to maximize protection depending on the combat. For example, a custom made jousting helmet would be gauged something like 13-12-13, where the blow side would be forged slightly thicker than the rest of the helm. To counter the weight off-balance, steel would be added here and there to allow the helm to sit atop a knight's head completely balanced. At one point, helms were crafted with such sophistication that indeed, one could shop for a helmet for every occasion. And if you're wondering why the above helm was called "pig-faced", yes, the sophistication became so profound that names were even assigned to the numerous categories based on how the helmet looked!
For a complete analysis of "Inside a Suit of Armour" including additional armour pieces, weaponry, and a jousting video, have your archers point their arrow to October's feature presentation at Real Live Relic Hunter.
Narrow Eye Slits An ingenious solution which prevented exposure while simultanously allowing sight. In actuality, an indvidual can see perfectly through a hole no smaller than the eye's pupil. The slits were therefore pupil height. And being that his enemy was around him, not on top of him, peripheral vision was made capable by the elongated slits.
Ventilation Holes Without oxygen, you wouldn't be able to do much in any full contact activity. Holes were therefore drilled into the faceplate, the vast majority being on the right side. Why so? For two reasons. First, most men wielding a sword were right-handed. Even today, most people are right-handed. A right-handed knight's swiftest facial blow landed on his enemy's left cheek. Therefore, the more carbon steel present on that side, the less chance of penetration. Secondly, for pretty much the same reason, even in tournament combat, a charging knight on horseback holding a jousting pole in his right hand would strike his opponent's left side. Hence, the reason for the next point.
Reinforced "Blow" Side Medieval helmets such as the one pictured were typically made of 13 gauge carbon steel. However, within the helmet, certain adjustments were made by the master armourer to maximize protection depending on the combat. For example, a custom made jousting helmet would be gauged something like 13-12-13, where the blow side would be forged slightly thicker than the rest of the helm. To counter the weight off-balance, steel would be added here and there to allow the helm to sit atop a knight's head completely balanced. At one point, helms were crafted with such sophistication that indeed, one could shop for a helmet for every occasion. And if you're wondering why the above helm was called "pig-faced", yes, the sophistication became so profound that names were even assigned to the numerous categories based on how the helmet looked!
For a complete analysis of "Inside a Suit of Armour" including additional armour pieces, weaponry, and a jousting video, have your archers point their arrow to October's feature presentation at Real Live Relic Hunter.
Debunking the DaVinci Code
Isn't it interesting when some lone desperado like Karen King, who I'm embarassed to affiliate with Harvard, makes claim that she has old papyrus text stating that Christ was married? As if to say, suddenly she made some phenomenal discovery, look at her. And incredibly, we look and start to question things. What fool would pay credence to anybody making such a ludicrous remark? Ludicrous not because of what she states, but ludicrous because she stated it! To think that eons of biblical research has been done by countless scholars who unanimously conclude that Christ was certainly not married based on multitudes of data, and then to suddenly give any credibility to this woman is absolutely ridiculous. Has the media come forth to make this point? No. Instead, the woman will probably now write a book and make $100 million because of our stupidity. I find it interesting that we tend to give even 30 seconds notice to this claim, all the while ignoring roughly 2000 years of historical fact as recorded. But no, let's secure our seat at Ron Howard's film and entertain the idea of a grossly inaccurate account. Make no mistake, this is not King Kong we're talking about, but a claim and a film which profoundly opposes central Christian belief and potentially igniting rebellion and rejection of that belief. We talk about the recent video that uproared the Muslim world, where was the Christian uproar in reaction to these claims?
For the uniformed and people who prefer to base their lives around media reports, the DaVinci Code attempts to infer the claim that "Well, the Catholic Church must have known about the marriage between Jesus and Mary Magdalene because they tried to cover it up by assassinating those who knew and would tell." Yet here is where the film tries to manipulate the facts. Indeed, as we know from the historical record, the Catholic Church had some very bad administrators up to no good during the medieval period. It is true that these leaders, perhaps even a few Popes, took a part in ordering assassinations. But where the film derails is in its neglect to state the real reason why the Church too a role in assassinations, which was purely for financial gain. During the period, coming out of the Dark Ages, the Church was obviously in the business of expanding and attracting more people across Europe. Obviously, the more followers you can have, the more income is brought in, and the richer you become. Any kind of "hiccup" along the way would greatly tarnish your efforts, even blackmail, extortion, and private wheeling and dealing land and estate deals took place involving church officials. Incidentally, even many years later, just look what happened to Joan of Arc! So, in actuality, the Church did take a part in these assassinations, but not because the story was true and they wanted to prevent it from escaping, but rather because the story was false and being made public would greatly set back their finances, nobody would want to join, and therefore no money would be coming in. It was purely an economic strategy, albeit a terrible one. Yet today, we see individuals manipulate the historical record to their own liking, often profiting from the gullibility of the average Joe.
Isn't it interesting when some lone desperado like Karen King, who I'm embarassed to affiliate with Harvard, makes claim that she has old papyrus text stating that Christ was married? As if to say, suddenly she made some phenomenal discovery, look at her. And incredibly, we look and start to question things. What fool would pay credence to anybody making such a ludicrous remark? Ludicrous not because of what she states, but ludicrous because she stated it! To think that eons of biblical research has been done by countless scholars who unanimously conclude that Christ was certainly not married based on multitudes of data, and then to suddenly give any credibility to this woman is absolutely ridiculous. Has the media come forth to make this point? No. Instead, the woman will probably now write a book and make $100 million because of our stupidity. I find it interesting that we tend to give even 30 seconds notice to this claim, all the while ignoring roughly 2000 years of historical fact as recorded. But no, let's secure our seat at Ron Howard's film and entertain the idea of a grossly inaccurate account. Make no mistake, this is not King Kong we're talking about, but a claim and a film which profoundly opposes central Christian belief and potentially igniting rebellion and rejection of that belief. We talk about the recent video that uproared the Muslim world, where was the Christian uproar in reaction to these claims?
For the uniformed and people who prefer to base their lives around media reports, the DaVinci Code attempts to infer the claim that "Well, the Catholic Church must have known about the marriage between Jesus and Mary Magdalene because they tried to cover it up by assassinating those who knew and would tell." Yet here is where the film tries to manipulate the facts. Indeed, as we know from the historical record, the Catholic Church had some very bad administrators up to no good during the medieval period. It is true that these leaders, perhaps even a few Popes, took a part in ordering assassinations. But where the film derails is in its neglect to state the real reason why the Church too a role in assassinations, which was purely for financial gain. During the period, coming out of the Dark Ages, the Church was obviously in the business of expanding and attracting more people across Europe. Obviously, the more followers you can have, the more income is brought in, and the richer you become. Any kind of "hiccup" along the way would greatly tarnish your efforts, even blackmail, extortion, and private wheeling and dealing land and estate deals took place involving church officials. Incidentally, even many years later, just look what happened to Joan of Arc! So, in actuality, the Church did take a part in these assassinations, but not because the story was true and they wanted to prevent it from escaping, but rather because the story was false and being made public would greatly set back their finances, nobody would want to join, and therefore no money would be coming in. It was purely an economic strategy, albeit a terrible one. Yet today, we see individuals manipulate the historical record to their own liking, often profiting from the gullibility of the average Joe.
Pro-Life, etcetera, etcetera
Perhaps one of the biggest issues facing society today is the continuing debate between the Pro-Life and Pro-Choice movements. Of course, most people are generally familiar with the positions taken by each. Pro-life proponents are in favor of allowing a fetus to be born while pro-choice proponents are in favor of a woman's desire to decide this. The arguments for each are both strong and weak depending on which perspective one takes. In essence, it may boil down to be another case of that classic "church vs. state" dilemma. However, this issue aside, it is this month's featured story on AndrewOstrowski.com for another reason. Don't you find it just a little bit interesting that many so-called Pro-Lifers have additional "etcetera" criteria tagged on to their stance? Some, such as Mitt Romney for example, hold fast to their view that they are flat-out against abortion. The sincerity and authenticity of their response harkens up feelings of divine wisdom and nobleness on their part as they seem to stand up for protecting the rights of the unborn. Yet, never before was the word "etcetera" more critical than when it is applied to the many Pro-Lifers, mostly politicians, who make use of it. Taking the position that one is "Pro-Life but allow abortion in the case of rape" is absolutley ludicrous. Is this to say that a rape-conception fetus is somehow different, inferior, or "of lesser worth" than a fetus conceived otherwise? The problem it seems is that proponents of the "etcetera" clause have shifted the very foundation of the Pro-Life position away from its core, that being the sanctity of all life, and onto the parent and the upbringing responsibility. However, the heart of Pro-Life has always been about conception, the fetus, and the eventual child, NOT about the circumstances that brought about the life. The sanctity of all life being the ultimate focus. Granted society has its share of problems, including having to deal with heinous acts such as a rape-conception. But what kind of integrity does a society possess when it crafts exceptions to its foundational doctrines such as "In God We Trust" while simultaneously believing it is in the right? Have we not then created our own "God" by doing so, carefully adjusting principles to suit our needs? Do you have any "etceteras" of your own?
Losing My Religion
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep a view
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
Remember that tune? The lyrics drawn from the 1991 release of Losing My Religion by R.E.M. The melody came to me recently while learning via the EWTN network of a continued number of Eastern European people who for one reason or another are "losing their religion." It was interesting to see the growing number of folks there who prefer to defy established faith, historical fact, and humbleness and humility, preferring to convince themselves that they are somehow equal to the general religious populace on the ultimate road to salvation. For all intents and purposes, just living on earthly times. This may be perfectly fine, but it fails to admit the fact that, since its origin, European culture has not been capable of attaining grace on its own. Indeed, religion has played a major role in the development of Eastern Europe, used most notably in the fall of Communism. The bottom line in all religions of Eastern Europe is the reception of grace to assist along the path to heaven. Indeed, if European Man were capable of attaining grace without religion would there have been any need for the prophets of old or even a Messiah? How then could they have had any wars, if they were so perfect to begin with? Perhaps it could be argued that, given the rocky history of Eastern Europe, supernatural evil may be more powerful than physical Man, therefore justifying the need for its religion.
Consider this
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing aground
Now I've said too much
Crisis in the Catholic Church
As you are well aware, attendance at the Catholic Mass has been tragically decreasing. Our eldest readers may recall how some 40 years ago, parishes offered Mass almost every hour on Sunday, with filled pews and often standing-room only High Masses. Today however, there is no problem finding a seat. In fact, recent statistics reveal that fewer than 25% of Catholics attend Mass. The remaining 75% are categorized as “A&P” or “Ashes and Palms” Catholics, stopping by a church twice a year to retain their “good standing.” I therefore pose this question very somberly and seriously: One need not be a rocket scientist to honestly calculate that 40 years from now, at this rate, will there be a Catholic Church? This is a terrible fact that confronts us. Parishioner counts are down, priest numbers dwindling, churches closing, parishes consolidating, secularism growing, spirituality diminishing, and parents failing to raise their kids through devout, faith-inspired lives. Do we really care? Whether you agree with my hypothesis or not is perfectly fine, but there is no denying it… the Catholic Church is headed for serious trouble. Let’s try to approach this logically.
Fact #1: Statistics indicate that since the 1990s, parishioner counts in U.S. Catholic churches have been dropping at a disproportionate rate, meaning year after year the number of people attending Sunday Mass decreases as the neighboring populace increases. In a healthy equation, one should equal the other.
Fact #2: Fifty years ago, it was common to find a 20-year-old man entering the seminary to become a priest. Today, a 20-year-old man entertaining thoughts of becoming a priest is nowhere to be found.
Fact #3: Probably the most tragic ingredient in this poisonous mix is parenthood. How many parents today prioritize spirituality in their child’s upbringing? Seven days a week, kids are hit with every kind of secular distraction under the sun. Life has now become totally Machiavellian, that is, entirely humanistic and physically driven. What values will these kids then pass on to their own children, and then these children’s children, and so on? Indeed, at the rate we’re going, barring some miraculous spiritual evolution, great-grandchildren will remember the Catholic Church as an old, outdated institution, a token of memory gone with the wind that you can only read about in history books.
The solution? With statistics indicating that priests will eventually disappear, the Church may be forced to allow the Diaconate more control. Women may have to be incorporated into the Mass, which will once again be restructured, and allowed to perform the transubstantiation. Local “house churches,” those early apostolic meeting places, may once again appear to counter the closing church/consolidation/real estate issue.
The picture I’ve painted is bleak, and I don’t like it. Of course, we can offer an honest prognosis, but there may be something far more effective than any words. It was once said that a solo prayer can move more earth than 3,000 Caterpillar tractors. Perhaps there is hope yet.
The Olympics of Faith
The Olympic games are always exciting to watch. Every four years, countries come together in a mass effort to promote the values of friendship, brotherhood, and unity. Indeed, after watching the opening ceremonies and the parade of nations, one cannot help but feel mutually part of the human family, despite all our troubles and conflicts, disease, strife, and war. Everybody's waving and cheering one another at this multi-million, perhaps billion, dollar spectacle. But it dawned on me that, if so much hoopla can be made in bringing about the Olympic opening ceremonies, and rightfully so as they are a great morale builder, can't we ever have such a thing as an "Olympics of Faith"? Imagine all the nations of the world coming together to share ideas on spirituality! The parade of nations would consist of not athletes, but everyday people of different faiths with a desire to promote the same values of the traditional Olympic games: friendship, brotherhood, and unity. Imagine events such as round tables of Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, and a host of other faiths all sharing ideas for the betterment of us all. Comparing and contrasting different belief systems, who is God, where does he exist, how do we attain salvation, what do we do to go to heaven, etc.? Would this not be the ultimate form of unity, everybody trying to brainstorm ideas on our ultimate fate? What could be more important than that? In a world where religion, not sport, is a major factor in its division and one of the main causes for war, should we not be making an effort to understand one another's point of view as we host an Olympics of Faith every four years? Ironically, we seem to give most of our attention to an otherwise temporary thrill in the Olympic games. At the moment it is as if the London summer Olympics are the center of our minds and all else is secondary. But, do you remember four years ago, we thought the same thing about the Beijing Olympics...and now we don't. And four years before that we thought the same thing about the Athens Olympics...and now we don't. Yet, year after year we hold firmly to the belief that we have a soul and after we die we're going to heaven. But we give this absolutely no hoopla, no opening ceremony, no parade of nations, no coverage, and no waving and cheering. How ironic, this thing called spirituality we deem everlasting and our ultimate goal, is given the very least attention. If we believe a human lifespan is say, 75 years, and we believe a heavenly lifespan is infinite, should we not devote the majority of our time to thinking about the latter? One need not be a religious person to do so, this is simply common sense: We are supposed to think most about the thing that carries the most weight, right? Yet, we continue to occupy our interests in the temporary thrills of life such as the Olympics, opting to bypass consideration for the everlasting thrills of spirituality. Yes, we want our spirit to live forever, but we just don't want to ever think about spirituality. How ironic. Perhaps what the world needs is an "Olympics of Faith".
Lech Piasecki: The King of Two Deals on Two Wheels
With the start of the Tour de France beginning on June 30th and running through July, this month's feature story goes to the one and only Lech Piasecki, a true hero of Poland! Piasecki is a time trial specialist, the type of bicycle race pitting man against clock in an all-out exertive effort. He has always been one of my favorite cyclists, but not so much for his tenacious strength on two wheels, but more so for his intellectual moxy for making big deals. You see, after Piasecki won the Amateur World Championship in 1985, a hoard of pro cycling teams bombarded him with huge contract offers. The Italian team Colnago won over his heart (literally speaking too!) but at a price. Despite the “official” report, the word on the street was that Piasecki, now realizing his worth, petitioned the Polish Cycling Federation to garnish another deal with Colnago before he signed his deal. The Federation would only release Piasecki with “an ample supply of racing bicycles for the development of Poland’s cycling program”. In short, Poland got the bikes, and Colnago got Piasecki, who was largely responsible for today’s Polish cycling sport. In celebration of Lech Piasecki, watch him in action at the 1987 Tour de France as he hammers home a 7:09 time trial effort in the below video!
Perhaps one of the biggest issues facing society today is the continuing debate between the Pro-Life and Pro-Choice movements. Of course, most people are generally familiar with the positions taken by each. Pro-life proponents are in favor of allowing a fetus to be born while pro-choice proponents are in favor of a woman's desire to decide this. The arguments for each are both strong and weak depending on which perspective one takes. In essence, it may boil down to be another case of that classic "church vs. state" dilemma. However, this issue aside, it is this month's featured story on AndrewOstrowski.com for another reason. Don't you find it just a little bit interesting that many so-called Pro-Lifers have additional "etcetera" criteria tagged on to their stance? Some, such as Mitt Romney for example, hold fast to their view that they are flat-out against abortion. The sincerity and authenticity of their response harkens up feelings of divine wisdom and nobleness on their part as they seem to stand up for protecting the rights of the unborn. Yet, never before was the word "etcetera" more critical than when it is applied to the many Pro-Lifers, mostly politicians, who make use of it. Taking the position that one is "Pro-Life but allow abortion in the case of rape" is absolutley ludicrous. Is this to say that a rape-conception fetus is somehow different, inferior, or "of lesser worth" than a fetus conceived otherwise? The problem it seems is that proponents of the "etcetera" clause have shifted the very foundation of the Pro-Life position away from its core, that being the sanctity of all life, and onto the parent and the upbringing responsibility. However, the heart of Pro-Life has always been about conception, the fetus, and the eventual child, NOT about the circumstances that brought about the life. The sanctity of all life being the ultimate focus. Granted society has its share of problems, including having to deal with heinous acts such as a rape-conception. But what kind of integrity does a society possess when it crafts exceptions to its foundational doctrines such as "In God We Trust" while simultaneously believing it is in the right? Have we not then created our own "God" by doing so, carefully adjusting principles to suit our needs? Do you have any "etceteras" of your own?
Losing My Religion
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep a view
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
Remember that tune? The lyrics drawn from the 1991 release of Losing My Religion by R.E.M. The melody came to me recently while learning via the EWTN network of a continued number of Eastern European people who for one reason or another are "losing their religion." It was interesting to see the growing number of folks there who prefer to defy established faith, historical fact, and humbleness and humility, preferring to convince themselves that they are somehow equal to the general religious populace on the ultimate road to salvation. For all intents and purposes, just living on earthly times. This may be perfectly fine, but it fails to admit the fact that, since its origin, European culture has not been capable of attaining grace on its own. Indeed, religion has played a major role in the development of Eastern Europe, used most notably in the fall of Communism. The bottom line in all religions of Eastern Europe is the reception of grace to assist along the path to heaven. Indeed, if European Man were capable of attaining grace without religion would there have been any need for the prophets of old or even a Messiah? How then could they have had any wars, if they were so perfect to begin with? Perhaps it could be argued that, given the rocky history of Eastern Europe, supernatural evil may be more powerful than physical Man, therefore justifying the need for its religion.
Consider this
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing aground
Now I've said too much
Crisis in the Catholic Church
As you are well aware, attendance at the Catholic Mass has been tragically decreasing. Our eldest readers may recall how some 40 years ago, parishes offered Mass almost every hour on Sunday, with filled pews and often standing-room only High Masses. Today however, there is no problem finding a seat. In fact, recent statistics reveal that fewer than 25% of Catholics attend Mass. The remaining 75% are categorized as “A&P” or “Ashes and Palms” Catholics, stopping by a church twice a year to retain their “good standing.” I therefore pose this question very somberly and seriously: One need not be a rocket scientist to honestly calculate that 40 years from now, at this rate, will there be a Catholic Church? This is a terrible fact that confronts us. Parishioner counts are down, priest numbers dwindling, churches closing, parishes consolidating, secularism growing, spirituality diminishing, and parents failing to raise their kids through devout, faith-inspired lives. Do we really care? Whether you agree with my hypothesis or not is perfectly fine, but there is no denying it… the Catholic Church is headed for serious trouble. Let’s try to approach this logically.
Fact #1: Statistics indicate that since the 1990s, parishioner counts in U.S. Catholic churches have been dropping at a disproportionate rate, meaning year after year the number of people attending Sunday Mass decreases as the neighboring populace increases. In a healthy equation, one should equal the other.
Fact #2: Fifty years ago, it was common to find a 20-year-old man entering the seminary to become a priest. Today, a 20-year-old man entertaining thoughts of becoming a priest is nowhere to be found.
Fact #3: Probably the most tragic ingredient in this poisonous mix is parenthood. How many parents today prioritize spirituality in their child’s upbringing? Seven days a week, kids are hit with every kind of secular distraction under the sun. Life has now become totally Machiavellian, that is, entirely humanistic and physically driven. What values will these kids then pass on to their own children, and then these children’s children, and so on? Indeed, at the rate we’re going, barring some miraculous spiritual evolution, great-grandchildren will remember the Catholic Church as an old, outdated institution, a token of memory gone with the wind that you can only read about in history books.
The solution? With statistics indicating that priests will eventually disappear, the Church may be forced to allow the Diaconate more control. Women may have to be incorporated into the Mass, which will once again be restructured, and allowed to perform the transubstantiation. Local “house churches,” those early apostolic meeting places, may once again appear to counter the closing church/consolidation/real estate issue.
The picture I’ve painted is bleak, and I don’t like it. Of course, we can offer an honest prognosis, but there may be something far more effective than any words. It was once said that a solo prayer can move more earth than 3,000 Caterpillar tractors. Perhaps there is hope yet.
The Olympics of Faith
The Olympic games are always exciting to watch. Every four years, countries come together in a mass effort to promote the values of friendship, brotherhood, and unity. Indeed, after watching the opening ceremonies and the parade of nations, one cannot help but feel mutually part of the human family, despite all our troubles and conflicts, disease, strife, and war. Everybody's waving and cheering one another at this multi-million, perhaps billion, dollar spectacle. But it dawned on me that, if so much hoopla can be made in bringing about the Olympic opening ceremonies, and rightfully so as they are a great morale builder, can't we ever have such a thing as an "Olympics of Faith"? Imagine all the nations of the world coming together to share ideas on spirituality! The parade of nations would consist of not athletes, but everyday people of different faiths with a desire to promote the same values of the traditional Olympic games: friendship, brotherhood, and unity. Imagine events such as round tables of Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, and a host of other faiths all sharing ideas for the betterment of us all. Comparing and contrasting different belief systems, who is God, where does he exist, how do we attain salvation, what do we do to go to heaven, etc.? Would this not be the ultimate form of unity, everybody trying to brainstorm ideas on our ultimate fate? What could be more important than that? In a world where religion, not sport, is a major factor in its division and one of the main causes for war, should we not be making an effort to understand one another's point of view as we host an Olympics of Faith every four years? Ironically, we seem to give most of our attention to an otherwise temporary thrill in the Olympic games. At the moment it is as if the London summer Olympics are the center of our minds and all else is secondary. But, do you remember four years ago, we thought the same thing about the Beijing Olympics...and now we don't. And four years before that we thought the same thing about the Athens Olympics...and now we don't. Yet, year after year we hold firmly to the belief that we have a soul and after we die we're going to heaven. But we give this absolutely no hoopla, no opening ceremony, no parade of nations, no coverage, and no waving and cheering. How ironic, this thing called spirituality we deem everlasting and our ultimate goal, is given the very least attention. If we believe a human lifespan is say, 75 years, and we believe a heavenly lifespan is infinite, should we not devote the majority of our time to thinking about the latter? One need not be a religious person to do so, this is simply common sense: We are supposed to think most about the thing that carries the most weight, right? Yet, we continue to occupy our interests in the temporary thrills of life such as the Olympics, opting to bypass consideration for the everlasting thrills of spirituality. Yes, we want our spirit to live forever, but we just don't want to ever think about spirituality. How ironic. Perhaps what the world needs is an "Olympics of Faith".
Lech Piasecki: The King of Two Deals on Two Wheels
With the start of the Tour de France beginning on June 30th and running through July, this month's feature story goes to the one and only Lech Piasecki, a true hero of Poland! Piasecki is a time trial specialist, the type of bicycle race pitting man against clock in an all-out exertive effort. He has always been one of my favorite cyclists, but not so much for his tenacious strength on two wheels, but more so for his intellectual moxy for making big deals. You see, after Piasecki won the Amateur World Championship in 1985, a hoard of pro cycling teams bombarded him with huge contract offers. The Italian team Colnago won over his heart (literally speaking too!) but at a price. Despite the “official” report, the word on the street was that Piasecki, now realizing his worth, petitioned the Polish Cycling Federation to garnish another deal with Colnago before he signed his deal. The Federation would only release Piasecki with “an ample supply of racing bicycles for the development of Poland’s cycling program”. In short, Poland got the bikes, and Colnago got Piasecki, who was largely responsible for today’s Polish cycling sport. In celebration of Lech Piasecki, watch him in action at the 1987 Tour de France as he hammers home a 7:09 time trial effort in the below video!
Sixty Seconds of Empathy
Have you ever seen a street-side cat rummaging around a garbage can looking for food? How about a herd of cattle being blindly steered into a slaughter house? Or your local zoo, where living, breathing creatures are put behind bars for our entertainment? We never really think about these things, not even for sixty seconds, do we? Instead, the run-of-the-mill tragedy after tragedy continues to happen. Save for a few lonely desperados such as Greenpeace, ASPCA, and PETA, 99% of us are ignorant of animal welfare. We think nothing of where the hot dog, hamburger, or chicken cutlet comes from...only its taste. We think nothing of the shoes on our feet, probably leather...only how they look and feel. And how about the pleasant air freshener in your living room, did you know that some rabbit probably died just so you could smell it?
Interestingly, we sincerely believe that we hold empathy for our war dead on Memorial Day, we kneel and pray for our beloved deceased at church services, and we are entirely shocked at blatant, cold blooded murder that we hear about in our daily news and television. Even the sincerest among us, in earnest, can be so hypocritically guilty in light of our feelings towards animals. Think of the nicest person you know, you can probably bet they eat meat and wear leather, right?
Yet why is it that we are not altogether consistent in our empathy for different forms of life? Is it not truly odd that a compassionate person caring for a pet poodle simultaneously does not mind eating a ham sandwich? Honestly, this should not be. Should not such a person intelligently express their compassion, if it is truly authentic, towards all forms of life; that would make sense, wouldn't it?
Perhaps one of the biggest tragedies of Man is that he does not take a mere sixty seconds to empathize with an animal, just about the time it took you to read this topic. Remember, every time you eat a piece of meat, wear a piece of leather, or commercially odorize your home, an animal dies. Wouldn't it be better to save an animal's life?
Further Reading
Spiritual, or Secular, Salutations
Opening Note: It seems, oddly enough, at times of heightened religious occasion, a myriad of controversies envelop. Or is that really so odd considering that 98% of the world believes in God...so it would follow logically that there must also exist an anti-God. Whether that is a contributing factor or not will remain a mystery, but this doesn't preclude talking about it.
I've encountered all of the following, as you might also have, during this past Lent, which leaves me with the task of humbly attempting to put to rest misbeliefs on the topics while simultaneously trying to clarify them. I will add, that I myself am part of the public pool of candidates succumbing to these misalignments.
At high holy days, what has become rather upsetting is the increasing trend for people to greet one another with the salutation "Happy Easter" and "Merry Christmas". Why is there a problem with that, you may ask? There is absolutely no problem, if the greeter and recipient are real Christians. You may further ask, "Well, I know plenty of Christians who exchange this greeting at Easter and Christmas, what are you talking about?" To answer this, and arrive at the critical point to be made, you first have to distinguish what qualifies one to be a Christian. For example, Person A is a regular Church goer, says their prayers, and sincerely tries to live according to the teachings of Christ. Person B has no affiliation with a religion, does not pray, interprets Easter as "a happy occasion on a sunny day where people wear nice clothes, go to church, and kids hunt for eggs" and very vaguely recalls a mild religious component, that Jesus rose from the dead. Now, A would do justice to greet B in the hopes of spurring on an increased respect for the true meaning of Easter. B, however, even though meaning well, is perhaps somewhat out of sync by offering a greeting of "Happy Easter". As much as B may mean well, which is great, the problem is that from the very bowels of B's intentions, there is no depth of basis for what Easter truly means. Easter is really not about bunnies and being friendly, even though those intentions display a fantastic and applaudable attitude. Easter technically is about celebrating the resurrection of Christ which can only be appreciated by understanding his life and passion, specifically on Holy Thursday and Good Friday as the new Passover Lamb being sacrificed to show us that sin can be overcome and a new life awaiting in the resurrection. This is technically what Easter is about and paramount to its understanding, and quite important. Even religious institutions are falling victim to a sort of misalignment, as not enough focus is being given to Christ’s Passion by seeing a far too soon celebration of the Easter Vigil just 24 hours after Good Friday’s service! Parishioners are bombarded with the Easter message of joy, but can’t really “connect the dots”. Rather, the celebration of joy can only come after the acknowledgement of suffering. It would therefore be wrong to play-down the suffering aspect of Christ’s passion, because even though evangelism is about spreading the Gospel, or “good news” joyously, the recipients need to know why we are celebrating, not merely that we are celebrating. The well known evangelist Joel Osteen, for example, is renowned for preaching a message of joyous hope for mankind, however, what he fails to consider is that salvation involves suffering too. Indeed, the very crux of Christ’s mission was to provide hope in the midst of turmoil, as he spelled out in his Sermon on the Mount. Increasingly, more and more folks are associating these Holy days, for example, Easter with tangential niceties but forgetting about the root reason, or at least putting the root secondary. If you study Man's timeline with respect to Christianity, you'd notice that Man began in paganism, adopted Christianity, and now is sadly reverting back to paganism. It is an extremely sad fact. In the above example, actually if you really think about it, isn't it just a bit disrespectful for someone such as person B to do this? It shows little consideration for Christ's passion, and without the passion, without the conquering of death on the cross, Easter becomes just another holiday like 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and Memorial Day and our faith becomes merely a label. Of course, no one is doing this intentionally; this being a societal evolution of misalignment in a way. We are all, including myself, person "B" at times in our life. However, as I like to think, it is not our mistakes that count against us in the end, it is what we do about the mistakes we make. Do we make an effort to reconcile and rebound? If you find yourself in such a predicament, do not blame yourself, for as devout a person you may be, still there exists room for improvement. Instead, take time to honestly reflect on the true nature of these special days. You will soon find yourself taking part in both the holiday and the holy day festivities!
Judging Others
This is a very touchy issue indeed. The big controversy seems to be, at what point does criticism become judgment. I once received an e-mail rebuke that I was passing judgment on choosing not to attend a Catholic church wedding ceremony for a divorced person. As you can imagine, this situation has been on the rise, with something like 52% of first marriages ending in divorce. Everybody was going "along with the crowd" except me. When asked why I opted out, I delicately stated that I did not think it was appropriate to stand before a couple in this predicament, as a witness to their marriage in a Catholic setting. Perhaps if they were at sea and married by a ship captain, then of course I would attend. Clearly divorce has not been allowed in traditional Catholicism, however as the Zeitgeist, the spirit of our times, would have it, our society has unfortunately wielded its influence to allow this. "You shouldn't judge others, only God is allowed to judge!" so I was reprimanded. I entirely agree...but not when it runs counter to the heart of what I profess to believe if I declare myself a true Catholic. For me, and many others in this category of integrity such as those belonging to Opus Dei, spiritual practices are no different than typical laws of society. And what happens if people decide not to yield to society's laws? For example, the typical traffic light, why should we wait until it turns green, why not go through whenever we like? Or the groceries in the supermarket, why not fill our wagons up and just steal them? Because established laws, whether they be secular or spiritual, are designed because of one fact that people seem to forget: humans are not altogether altruistic. Rather, they need rules and regulations to keep them in line. That's just the way it is, has been since the dawn of Man, and probably will continue to be. So, to constructively criticize someone for an obvious aberration may not necessarily be judging, but merely an enforcement of law. The police officer who pulls you over for going through a red light does not offer his opinion that you broke the law, he states so. And likewise, defenders of spiritual law simply do the same. That is why, for example, religious institutions such as the Catholic Church have guidelines on how to act, these are its 'laws' if a follower wishes to be a part of it. For what would we have but mass chaos in quicksand if no spiritual or secular laws were enacted? And where would our future be if everybody used the "you should not judge" excuse to do whatever they wanted?
Of course, defending our spiritual law should be done with care and compassion, something that we all, including myself, often forget to do. We are all breaking these laws to some extent. Some people are very religiously observant, but have no heart, and, some people have a ton of heart, but detest religion. As you see, we could all borrow certain qualities from each other. As pro golfer Tom Watson once said, “the best player is one who makes the least number of errors.”
Saintly Sinners
Complementary to the above is the often used phrase "all of us are sinners", given as a response to one's questionable actions. This phrase is quite true, and no one should think that they are above or beyond sin. Even in the littlest unseen ways, our instantaneous thoughts for example, carry as much weight as words. Admission of sin is quite commendable, and even more so when it is done through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. But there is a problem here. While certainly true and applaudable, declaring oneself to be a sinner is only fully valid if the recipient does something about it. Too many people seem to think that their wrongful actions are justified by following up with use of this phrase. As if repentance suffices simply by admitting that all of us are sinners. Similarly, using the words "I'm sorry" cannot be excluded from the point. How many times have we, including myself, said we're sorry to someone for something and just left it at that. Spirituality then takes on a very limited scope, when so-called faithful people are contented, lose no sleep, and feel no guilt simply by going through these motions of protocol. One's faith belief then becomes misaligned, when for example being a Catholic now means that all you have to do is apologize and admit that everybody sins and you feel you've done your duty as a Catholic. Taking this example further, what then becomes of the original faith belief, when people only attend Mass occasionally, don't go to Confession, and practice contraception, all the while sincerely believing they are good Catholics because most Catholic people they know do this? It is a terrible trend, and in time evolves a faith belief into something grossly opposite its original principle. Declaring that all of us are sinners as a catch-all excuse is therefore poor justification if the individual does nothing about it. We have all fallen victim to this, including me. Even the Saints sinned, but chose to then make amends in order to rebound. And in the end, isn’t it all about the choices we choose?
How a Compass Can Get You Lost
I was recently in a conversation with someone about religious institutions and how some people feel they are too restrictive. The person I was chatting with, a very conscientious, kind, good hearted individual, explained very eloquently that he thinks people should "follow their own compass" in deciding what values to hold as important for salvation. Initially I agreed with the person, however more needs to be discussed. It is true that each of us has a choice to make regarding our faith belief, some choose Christianity, some Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, etc. Some people choose their own beliefs, and some choose not to believe. To say that some people do not have disagreements with their chosen faith belief would be wrong. Indeed, in actuality most people find some aspect of their belief as not to their personal liking. Yet they still retain allegiance to the belief. This is human nature. You'll never get 100% compliance of course in something so complicated and significant as a religious belief. However, as much as the idea of "following your own compass" sounds commendable, I disagree with this person for one big reason: it fails to recognize the fact that humans are proven failures in spirituality and susceptible to evil. From the dawn of Man, was it not Adam and Eve who were living in a heavenly state but opted to disobey? This original sin has spiraled down into mankind and in a way, is part of our "DNA" if you will. Those who feel that they can attain salvation on their own and not be aligned with a particular faith are grossly neglecting this fact. Indeed, the very reason that a Messiah came was specifically because we are born sinners! If we were not, there would have been no Christ, no religion, and we would presently be living in heaven on earth. Mankind indeed needs structure and some degree of religious framework in order to attain salvation. When building a house, if you fail to follow the blueprints and 'wing-it' on your own, the house will collapse. Having a father who is an architect and a friend who is a contractor, I can attest to this! The "blueprints" of spirituality have been thoroughly tested and weathered; if anything we are at a distinct advantage having learned from thousands of years of religious belief systems and their prophets. Yet there are still some who insist their own bravado can independently ignore this fact and they can get to heaven. Granted all religious institutions, such as the Catholic Church, have their share of problems. Institutions are run by humans who make mistakes. But it would be foolish to abandon such institutions and 'wing-it', given the nature of Man's tendency to sin and the fact too that, if we say that we believe in God in the first place, we should equally acknowledge that Evil exists, and you wouldn't want to be in the forest by yourself when that beast is lurking. I personally would rather be part of a proven, weathered and defending team, even though I may disagree with some of its restrictions, wouldn’t you?
As an example, earlier the subject of contraception arose and this individual stated that he didn't think there was absolutely anything wrong with it. As you can see, this person, as amicable and good-hearted as they are, created their own value belief for whether contraception was right or wrong, and perhaps fell victim to society's pressures, many of which are undoubtedly influenced by evil. Would it not be better to consider the Catholic Church's longstanding, 2000 year's worth of thinking on the topic in such minds as Thomas Aquinas and Karol Wojtyla? I think we need to be honest in admitting that we are not individually strong enough to withstand temptation, that we need religious institutions to create the framework inside of which we can paint the portrait of ourselves so as to attain salvation and return to that pre-Man heavenly Garden of Eden. Humbleness, humility, and a bit of smarts may be what we all need more of.
The Everlasting Immortals of Lutcza
Note: this is the final part of the series “Lutcza and the search for babci Turon’s house”. Part's 1 and 2 can be found here.
Memories of an age long forgotten invaded our minds as we exited Lutcza’s old church of the Assumption. Standing there, we visualize into words our little babci running across the nearby wildflower meadow at the beckoning of church bells. Yet, here in Lutcza, we’ll shortly discover that nothing is forgotten.
“Let’s check the cemetery for any Turons” said Joanne. I have always held a special affinity for cemeteries, being surrounded by the dead, thus realizing what life is about. As we enter, it is filled in disarray with various 19th and 20th century tombstones and iron crosses. However, its revelations soon become quite clear. Turons are here, there, and everywhere! Judging by the extent of the Turon family baptismal records, we realize that yes, these graves hold the bones of our distant relatives. An incredible discovery in itself! However, as an avid gardener, the quest for deeper “roots” leave me scratching my head a bit…
Driving down the road, we spot two very old gravestones in the distance just at the edge of a hilly forest. “Up there!” I exclaim, as we then turn onto a gravel road and approach the site. As we pull over to the right, I dash over to inspect the two stones, glance into the woods, and suddenly realize that this duo is all that remains visible of an ancient, abandoned cemetery, completely absorbed by the growing forest! Up to my belly button in tall straw grass and thick weeds I braved this forgotten cemetery attempting to spot an ancient Turon. Nearly all of the headstones were washed out and worn, rendering their identity impossible. I then spot the ruins of a small shrine with about ten thousand blackbirds nesting inside.
As I bushwhack like a hunter out for his prey, they quickly get spooked and haphazardly fly towards me like something out of a Dracula film. Creepy.
Exiting the ancient cemetery wearing a sour puss, I relayed that emotion to the others who were standing outside the parked car. And then, absolutely out of nowhere, appears a woman in a red vest! She smiles at my mother and exchanges a distant hello. Then, one word became two, two became three, and the next thing we knew, we were sitting around a kitchen table with her family enjoying warm conversation and paczki! Ten minutes ago, we never knew these people, and now it seemed as if we knew them forever.
She, together with her husband, daughter, son-in-law, and their two children holding newborn kittens, exhibited the gracious hospitality known only to fairytales. Both the woman and her husband were quite knowledgeable on Lutcza’s history, and, via an English translation from their son-in-law, took us into their backyard and provided us with the answer to our ultimate question. The husband pointed to a hilltop in the distance overlooking the old Assumption church as we received his translated confirmation: “There, on that hilltop lived the Turon family.”
Sadly, nothing remained of our babci’s homestead but a few blades of grass. However, it soon became clear to us that despite the lack of a tangible structure, despite the skeletons and the washed out gravestones, our quest revealed that essentially, our babci’s life never really ended. Poland immortalizes her life and countless others through what we have just witnessed. And what a blessing that is for us.
No Nuke for You
It’s interesting to discover that, what’s good for you, may not be good for another. Or should it? Perish the thought that Iran engage in a nuclear program to allow itself the ability to develop and become a more energy efficient nation, and yes, at the same time arm itself with a contemporary weapon. “Oh no” say we, “they can’t develop nuclear power, they’re bad people.” The headlines are everywhere, and the talk of the American town is “Just say no to Iran”.
Interestingly, did anybody stop to realize the countless number of people saying no to America when it wanted and succeeded in developing the world’s number one arsenal of nuclear strength? Yet, we are “civilized” and Iran is uncivilized, isn’t that it? How dare we allow a regime who stated that Israel should be eliminated, to own nuclear power. On the surface, the logical mind would agree: No nuke for you, Iran! Because you have made that statement of hatred, it would follow then that you might use your nuclear power against your neighbor. A perfectly reasonable conclusion. However, reasonable in who’s mind?
The typical Iranian may indeed make an equally logical argument against America. If life and death are the real concerns of this whole issue, the United States would then be guilty of killing millions of innocent people, perhaps exponentially quadrupling the number of potential fatalities that an Iran vs. Israel conflict would cause. “When, Mr. Iranian” we refute, “did we kill so many people in the basis of your claim?”
Abortion. You see, by condemning Iran for its threat of a nuclear bomb, what we fail to do is consider that, to the Iranian, we continue to “nuke” millions of our own pre-born people through legalized abortion. In Iran, if someone were to have or perform an abortion, they would be taken to the town square and nearly disemboweled. Cruel, uncivilized, you might say? That is where we return to what is considered “reasonable and civilized.”
What we consider as reasonable and civilized may be considered as unreasonable and uncivilized to other cultures, and, what we consider as unreasonable and uncivilized may be considered as reasonable and civilized to other cultures. Americans, simply because of legality, consider abortion to be reasonable and civilized, and for example, hanging an accused criminal from a soccer field goal post to be unreasonable and uncivilized. We conclude therefore, that it’s “okay” for pre-conceived babies to die, and, that it’s outlandish to hang a person in such a manner. This does not bother our conscience. On the other side of the perspective, Iranians consider abortion to be a grave sin, unreasonable and uncivilized, and executing someone from a goal post to be reasonable and civilized. This does not bother their conscience.
Therefore, perhaps we should think twice about condemning a nation for its actions, and in this case, its nuclear ambitions. In our mind, yes, we see potential trouble. But we need to realize that in their mind, yes, they are saying the exact same thing about us.
This essay is not in defense of a particular position on nuclear weapons, but merely to shed light on the root cause of our conflicts. So, the real question is, who is one nation to declare what another nation should or shouldn’t do? What we are ultimately dealing with is a global ethnic, cultural, and moral value system conflict. So-called “natural law” may not necessarily be universal. Because what is “natural” may be entirely dependent on upbringing, culture, and history. It is said that we are all “tabula rosa”, or blank slates, at birth and only through life do we develop a value system. The wandering nomad in the desert may have an entirely different value system than the executive on main street. Are we to declare which one is right and which one is wrong?
And therein lies the issue…
Ostrowski's Response: The Curious Case of Ryan Hammons
In response to my story titled "The Curious Case of Ryan Hammons" (see below), a total of 137 people responded with their opinions. Results were tallied and posted, 51 people declared the story to be true, 17 were not sure, and 69 said it was false. Not surprisingly, the results seemed to confirm the fact that the majority of us are living our faiths...in a box.
I want to clarify perhaps a misunderstanding many people may have had upon reading my Hammons story. Several people indicated that "it is better to stick with their own faith rather than consider other possibilities", and that "we should not follow man's thinking on the subject". I also received a few responses saying "if the boy wasn't Christian, we don't know what happens to his soul."
First, by mentioning "rather than" in the sentence above, readers may have missed the point. The basis of my theory was to explain that we need not take sides with one faith and reject another, but rather consider the harmony of all of them. To consider "other possibilities" does not necessarily mean that one must reject another faith, as in the "rather than" response. This is my whole point. Many people like to categorize spirituality within a given framework (Christianity/Hinduism/Buddhism, etc.) simply because the mind finds this a convenient way of understanding and then they can live their life by this framework. However, what I am suggesting is that we should further add consideration for other faith beliefs into our life, not to abandon our given faith, but to expand it by adding other ideas. For example, I am a Catholic, I am remaining a Catholic, and (not but), I also believe some aspects of other faith beliefs such as Incarnation in Hinduism. Buddhism also has some very valid truths, as well as several other religions. As you see above, I used the word 'and', not 'but', because 'but' implies a compromise on the former, however using 'and' implies an integration of the two.
We need to finally realize that ultimately we are all in the same boat. Because all faiths bring some degree of validity to the table, it is wise then to think outside the box, realizing that divisions of religions, like our world has developed into, are terribly immature if we are to consider the very nature of an omnipotent, all powerful God, who manifests himself in a trillion ways across the planet. But the problem is, we like to think that this manifestation is exclusive to Christianity, or Hinduism, or Judaism, or Islam, etc. So Man does actually need to think more and realize his human understanding of spirituality is merely a grain of sand on the beach. Can you imagine what your deceased relatives are experiencing right now? In our wildest imagination we cannot fathom the immeasurable scope of life after death. All things then become known, and we will perhaps see the little 'box' we all lived in, with our mouths open in awe at what we never thought was possible. We need to perhaps remember what Mohandas Gandhi said: "Yes, I am a Hindu, and a Buddhist, and a Christian, and a Jew, and a Muslim." He makes a perfect point.
Some readers also countered by arguing that, "Well, how can one be, for example, a Hindu and a Christian at the same time? Surely these faiths have conflicting beliefs." In actuality however, that conclusion is absolutely incorrect. What we need to understand is that all religions have evolved since their creation, however, the core of all religions is essentially the same. It was only because of Man's intervention that religions developed distinctions and exclusive tenets, which were added to the faith's core after the founder of the faith departed. For example, if we look at the core of Christianity, nowhere in Christ's teachings does he indicate that Reincarnation is wrong. It was only centuries later that disciples of the Christian faith, specifically Catholicism, decided that Reincarnation was wrong. One may then argue, "Well, the decisions of these disciples are guided by the Holy Spirit so we must conclude that whatever they teach us is true." Yes, I would agree, but at the same time, make the point that if we accept some men's decisions as being guided by the Holy Spirit, why then do we reject other men's decisions as not being guided by the Holy Spirit? Rejecting Reincarnation means rejecting what Gandhi taught. But should not Gandhi be worthy of being guided by the Holy Spirit? So, our religions today have unfortunately become very exclusive and covetous due to Man's infiltration and selfish desire for his faith to be unique, far from their original core founder's mission which was identical in all religions.
To clarify the point, I often ask people two questions. Let's say there's a sweet, loving, and innocent 10 year old Christian boy who suddenly dies. Does he go to heaven? Every Christian I have asked this to, including Catholics and Evangelicals, very firmly say "Yes, this boy will go to heaven." I then ask them a follow-up question. Let's say there's a sweet, loving, and innocent 10 year old Buddhist boy who suddenly dies. Does he go to heaven? And their response is, "Well, we don't know what God holds in his infinite mercy." On the surface, this may seem like a nice answer to give, however, it is actually an immature insult to spirituality. Do you see the mentality driving the different responses? By not giving the same firm response as in the former question, the Christian is inferring that the Buddhist boy may not go to heaven, even if it's a subtle inference, in however nice a statement they want to give. And you need not be educated about Buddhism, or any different religion than your own, to offer the correct answer, which should be the same for both questions.
For the 69 people who said that the Hammons boy case, which was well documented, examined, and tried to be debunked, was false, your negative reply may be proof-positive that we are indeed living our faiths...in a box.
The Curious Case of Ryan Hammons
Six year old Ryan Hammons of Oklahoma has been for the past three years declaring himself to be a former Hollywood actor. The young boy specifically pointed out his “former” self while browsing through a film-noire photo book. A child’s fantasy, you might say? Not quite, because Ryan described over one hundred details about the life of the man in the photo, who appeared obscurely in the background, having no clue as to his identity which was not listed anywhere. In fact, the case was brought to a University of Virginia past-life research group, who's doctors have documentated hundreds of such cases usually occurring in children less than ten years old. The group petitioned the Hollywood film preservation society, who meticulously identified the man in the photo from archived original film scripts as Marty Martyns. Interestingly, 90 out of 102 details the young boy gave since he was three and before he even saw the photo were completely true, including the street Martyns lived on, interior details of the Rolls Royce he owned, and the name of his wife. Ryan, or “Marty”, was asked why he had come back. And the boy’s response: “My old me has to relearn lessons because of greed.”
Reincarnation? My earnest opinion, which supports the idea of Purgatory, is that souls such as Martyns are paying reparations for their sins by their spirits being incarnated, not reincarnated, in other people. Interestingly, when this story was relayed to a few of my elder friends and relatives, their immediate reaction was "No, no, no. Nobody's spirit comes back. They belong to the church in heaven and we belong to the church on earth, that's all." This typical "we're right and everybody else is wrong" response is found in many westernized religions, including Christianity. Objectively speaking, to flat out condemn any spiritual phenomenon without disproving it is entirely wrong. Yet we see this philosophy manifesting itself in the thousands of religious sects and branches in our everyday world, each purporting that they are the one true faith. If you disagree with Ryan Hammons being the incarnated spirit of Marty Martyn, then prove your point. If you cannot prove your rebuttal, then the objective mind must accept the fact that all indications from diligent and exhaustive efforts reveal that this is clearly a case of either incarnation or reincarnation. But still, we crawl back into our holes and stubbornly refuse to accept the facts.
It may not be so far-fetched for the typical Catholic, for example, to understand what happened here, since Catholics already believe in Purgatory, a "holding state" between Heaven and Hell. Consider that Martyn's soul, along with billions of others, are in Purgatory praying for the opportunity of reparation for their sins. Most people already accept that the souls of the dead are praying for us, just as we pray for them, in fact we often invoke their intercession don't we? Indeed, Andrew Ostrowski.com would argue that if anyone needs prayers more, it would be us on earth rather than the other way around, the souls in Purgatory. This website would further argue that deceased souls are probably continuously praying for us left and right because these souls went through the life/death process, committed their sins which they regret, and now are desperately seeking grace, so therefore they intensely pray for us as a reparation. Well, why then is it so incomprehensible to believe that God answers a deceased person's "prayer" allowing them to be instilled into our earthly lives to help us? Indeed that would be an excellent way to offer earthly assistance and the ultimate answer to a prayer! Incarnation of deceased spirits is very real and happens all the time unbeknownst to us, as in the case of Ryan Hammons. It is very important to point out that with incarnation the host soul, such as Ryan's, still bears responsibility for their own soul, but the spirit of the deceased soul helps the earthly host soul perfect itself, thereby allowing the deceased soul to gain grace so as to leave Purgatory. We don't realize this of course simply because we don't spend time thinking about it.
Honestly and sincerely, step back a minute and ask yourself: "Why is it hard for me to believe this?" You may soon realize that you have probably been groomed and conditioned to accept a certain religious mindset. I would offer a solution. Instead of being robotic, ritualistic people of a religion, let's try to use our God-given minds to think, think, and think even more about what life and death are really about. Ask questions, be open minded, don't be afraid. Asking questions and thinking about your soul is how you learn and grow. Consider that there is ample evidence supporting many facets of spirituality, including Incarnation, even though your faith belief may never teach about them. Only afterwards then can we appreciate the true meaning of life and death and see the universality of it all. For example, I am a devout Catholic, and I accept some principals of other religions simply because I have pondered them, researched them, and came to an intellectual conclusion. I am a Catholic not because I have been blindly conditioned, rather, I am a Catholic because I personally pondered its teachings and made intellectual conclusions. We should not "take sides" with our faith, but rather see that there is truth and merit in nearly all religions, including the fact that this young boy is clearly experiencing an incarnation of a deceased soul. So, dead people are actually not dead after all, but in fact very much alive and interactive in people's lives, through intercession and incarnation. And what a wonderful thing to realize. Why then do we fail to spend time sincerely thinking about our life after our death? The big question is, after reading about this young boy, are you going to once again close the book and continue to live your life as usual, caught up in your everyday web of physical doings, what you will eat, what you will wear, or are you going to take a little extra time to think about your own very real, validated, and proven life after your own death as this story proves? When are you going to start thinking?!
See this website's section Totus Tuus Opus Dei for the distinction between Incarnation and Reincarnation.
Read the story about Ryan Hammons and Marty Martyn
See http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0912/22/lkl.01.html for a televised media discussion on the topic.
Wartime Accountability
Veteran's Day has always been quite memorable, and this year I had the opportunity to view three films that simply do a superb job at portraying our heroic servicemen, specifically from World War II. Twelve O'clock High, starring Gregory Peck, highlights the aerial bombardment efforts of the Allied forces against Germany's war-specific technical factories, such as ball bearing plants. As I watched the film, I was reminded of my own uncle, Stanley Ostrowski, who took part in these missions. The Great Escape appeared next on the screen, which details the heroic tunneled escape of 76 Allied prisoners of war from the infamous Stalag Luft 3 in what is now Zagan, Poland. And lastly, The Stranger, a brilliantly suspense-filled film-noire starring Edward G. Robinson and Orson Welles. Robinson, a Nazi war crimes hunter, tracks the notorious SS officer Franz Kindler, played by Welles, as the desperate German escapes to the U.S. and finds safe haven as a college professor in a quaint New England town. A potentially true to life story, although accountability has never fully been reached in regard to all of these war criminals. However, what failed to escape my attention was the afterthought of this so-called "accountability". What has been done to bring to justice ALL of the contributors to the "final solution?" I'm referring specifically to the company that supplied Zyklon B, the principle killing agent at Majdanek concentration camp in Poland. This cyanide based pesticide was first used on sick Poles at Auschwitz, then used to kill roughly 1.2 million more people. The company defended itself by claiming its product was meant for "rodent extermination" as was clearly stated on the label. However, how does such a company escape full prosecution when it obviously supplied thousands of Zyklon B canisters to the Nazi war machine? Not to mention the bricklayers and oven suppliers who built the crematoriums and said nothing. Indeed there may still be numerous "Franz Kindlers" out there.
Who's the real Bull in Bullying?
We begin this week with reports of yet another bullying incident making headlines. It is rather interesting to learn that repeatedly, despite exemplary efforts made by newscasters such as Anderson Cooper and Dr. Phil, no one seems to realize the root cause of these tragedies. Blame is continually placed on big, brash kids who taunt calls of “sissy” at fellow schoolmates who happen to speak or appear less masculine. However, are these antagonistic kids really to blame? What should we expect when our children are brainwashed by so-called PG-13 rated movies promoting the ideal male image as being muscular and aggressive? Added to that, the all-American values our culture promotes is its man-against-man competitive drive instilled in our children. And God help the kid who prefers reading a book over playing football. Perhaps we should be blaming ourselves, not our kids.
Un-Occupy Wall Street
If only society would realize that, regrettably, the only reason that America has always stood atop the world and is idealized has been largely due to...the rich. Clearly it is an historic fact that private sector big businesses and entrepreneurial moguls have always been the impetus for economic growth in this country, NOT the fair-minded Democratic ideal we all think our country embodies. Indeed, arguably the only reason you and I are successful is because somebody somewhere is not. Such is the price paid for capitalism. For what is the "American Dream", but a desire to prosper, not to share the wealth as these protesters seem to be hinting at in some form of Democratic Socialist movement likened to the John Doe club. If there exists such a Utopian society somewhere in the figment of our imagination, there must be an unlimited supply of resources to be had. Unfortunately, reality tells us that there is only so much to go around, therefore our society has resorted to a battle between the have and the have-nots, masked under the guise of "Democracy". Ask the homeless person living in the gutter, proof positive, or the tycoon living on the hilltop. The Occupy Wall Street argument is ignorant of the fact that the mere ability of these protesters to protest in the first place is entirely because of capitalistic freedom. Were their signs and drums given to them for free? No, they earned money, bought the materials, and now are toting these signs and beating these drums, paid for with money. Essentially how then does that become different than the tycoon earning money and buying a yacht? Is this a qualitative issue or a quantitative one? Is it not therefore ironic and hypocritical for a group of people, having the freedom to protest and earn and spend money, to then protest against the very reason why they are able to stand there? True, capitalism is one of the furthest ideologies to Christianity. However, how does one grow in Democratic Socialism? Perhaps we have finally reached the crossroads of our juxtaposed self-destruction.
Sex Ed 101 in your kid's classroom
In a "brilliantly brainless" decision, New York City schools chancellor Dennis Walcott has decided that Sex Education 101 will now be a mandatory class for all NYC public high school students. Great, let's set an honorable example, show the kids how mature we are, and feed them info on the tactical methods of how not to get pregnant so they can be just like us when they grow up. Idiotic thinking strikes again! How about teaching the kids about the sanctity of life, and that the procreative process which gives life is therefore sanctified as well? Shouldn't our goal be to get these kids to appreciate life to the point where they cherish it, care for it, and nurture it, thus reserving their sexual activity for the exclusive intent of bringing a new life into the world? Wouldn't that be the best approach? But no, we throw them a prophylactic and a couple of how-to slide shows using a banana and consider ourselves "very wise and learned educators." Fortunately, protests have ensued, signifying the last dying hope of a people still showing some degree of moral fabric about them. The mere fact that the story has made headlines is evidence in itself that we still hold ourselves accountable to some kind of moral standard, as low as that may be. And talk about anti-discrimination policy supposedly enforced in the learning curriculum. Is it not then a discriminatory act to only teach kids the methods of contraception and to not teach them about abstinence? Surely this then is discrimination against religion, including Catholicism and Christianity on the whole!
Dangers of the la-de-da society
Have you ever dreamed of living in a cool, oceanfront town, where fresh air is plentiful, songbirds are singing, and everybody is wearing a smile? Indeed such places exist, such as the small town I once happened upon around Chesapeake Bay. Driving the required minimal speed limit enforced by privately hired police, I noticed home after home, each one worth more than my watch's calculator function could display. Comprised entirely of upper middle class residents, everything about this town was perfect. No garbage in the gutters, no potholes in the roads, no graffiti, and nobody arguing, everybody greeting one another happily and saying nice things. In short, the perfect, quintessential la-de-da society bearing no troubles, no worries, and no fear. Wouldn't you like to live there? You'd better ditch God, because in the la-de-da society, there simply is little to no need for faith. Why? To answer this we must realize that faith often develops out of a society's need to alleviate its woes with some kind of assurance that better things are to come. Indeed studies indicate that cultures having the most diverse peoples are more inclined to have active faith communities simply due to different peoples interacting with one another causing strife. Additionally, in such diverse cultures, intellectualization often increases because it forces people to think more about such strife situations. The result being the need for religion to factor into the remedy. However, in the la-de-da society, there is little strife, and so there is little need for religion. What happens to a family of five when the parents fail to regularly habitualize their children to established faith practices? In the la-de-da society, parents teach their children to be a "nice person" and feel no need to regularly condition their kids spiritually. What then will these children eventually teach their own children, and what will their own children eventually teach their children? In time, the la-de-da society itself thus becomes the religion. A homeowner in such a society would say "Well, what's wrong with teaching my child to be a nice person?" The answer is, nothing is wrong. But only a fool would fail to realize that Man, by his very nature as witnessed in history, is not strong enough to live a spiritual-less life and simultaneously maintain perfection. If he were, we would all be living in heaven on earth. Therefore, the la-de-da society, as innocent as it may seem, actually ends up being counterproductive in the end.
Have you ever seen a street-side cat rummaging around a garbage can looking for food? How about a herd of cattle being blindly steered into a slaughter house? Or your local zoo, where living, breathing creatures are put behind bars for our entertainment? We never really think about these things, not even for sixty seconds, do we? Instead, the run-of-the-mill tragedy after tragedy continues to happen. Save for a few lonely desperados such as Greenpeace, ASPCA, and PETA, 99% of us are ignorant of animal welfare. We think nothing of where the hot dog, hamburger, or chicken cutlet comes from...only its taste. We think nothing of the shoes on our feet, probably leather...only how they look and feel. And how about the pleasant air freshener in your living room, did you know that some rabbit probably died just so you could smell it?
Interestingly, we sincerely believe that we hold empathy for our war dead on Memorial Day, we kneel and pray for our beloved deceased at church services, and we are entirely shocked at blatant, cold blooded murder that we hear about in our daily news and television. Even the sincerest among us, in earnest, can be so hypocritically guilty in light of our feelings towards animals. Think of the nicest person you know, you can probably bet they eat meat and wear leather, right?
Yet why is it that we are not altogether consistent in our empathy for different forms of life? Is it not truly odd that a compassionate person caring for a pet poodle simultaneously does not mind eating a ham sandwich? Honestly, this should not be. Should not such a person intelligently express their compassion, if it is truly authentic, towards all forms of life; that would make sense, wouldn't it?
Perhaps one of the biggest tragedies of Man is that he does not take a mere sixty seconds to empathize with an animal, just about the time it took you to read this topic. Remember, every time you eat a piece of meat, wear a piece of leather, or commercially odorize your home, an animal dies. Wouldn't it be better to save an animal's life?
Further Reading
Spiritual, or Secular, Salutations
Opening Note: It seems, oddly enough, at times of heightened religious occasion, a myriad of controversies envelop. Or is that really so odd considering that 98% of the world believes in God...so it would follow logically that there must also exist an anti-God. Whether that is a contributing factor or not will remain a mystery, but this doesn't preclude talking about it.
I've encountered all of the following, as you might also have, during this past Lent, which leaves me with the task of humbly attempting to put to rest misbeliefs on the topics while simultaneously trying to clarify them. I will add, that I myself am part of the public pool of candidates succumbing to these misalignments.
At high holy days, what has become rather upsetting is the increasing trend for people to greet one another with the salutation "Happy Easter" and "Merry Christmas". Why is there a problem with that, you may ask? There is absolutely no problem, if the greeter and recipient are real Christians. You may further ask, "Well, I know plenty of Christians who exchange this greeting at Easter and Christmas, what are you talking about?" To answer this, and arrive at the critical point to be made, you first have to distinguish what qualifies one to be a Christian. For example, Person A is a regular Church goer, says their prayers, and sincerely tries to live according to the teachings of Christ. Person B has no affiliation with a religion, does not pray, interprets Easter as "a happy occasion on a sunny day where people wear nice clothes, go to church, and kids hunt for eggs" and very vaguely recalls a mild religious component, that Jesus rose from the dead. Now, A would do justice to greet B in the hopes of spurring on an increased respect for the true meaning of Easter. B, however, even though meaning well, is perhaps somewhat out of sync by offering a greeting of "Happy Easter". As much as B may mean well, which is great, the problem is that from the very bowels of B's intentions, there is no depth of basis for what Easter truly means. Easter is really not about bunnies and being friendly, even though those intentions display a fantastic and applaudable attitude. Easter technically is about celebrating the resurrection of Christ which can only be appreciated by understanding his life and passion, specifically on Holy Thursday and Good Friday as the new Passover Lamb being sacrificed to show us that sin can be overcome and a new life awaiting in the resurrection. This is technically what Easter is about and paramount to its understanding, and quite important. Even religious institutions are falling victim to a sort of misalignment, as not enough focus is being given to Christ’s Passion by seeing a far too soon celebration of the Easter Vigil just 24 hours after Good Friday’s service! Parishioners are bombarded with the Easter message of joy, but can’t really “connect the dots”. Rather, the celebration of joy can only come after the acknowledgement of suffering. It would therefore be wrong to play-down the suffering aspect of Christ’s passion, because even though evangelism is about spreading the Gospel, or “good news” joyously, the recipients need to know why we are celebrating, not merely that we are celebrating. The well known evangelist Joel Osteen, for example, is renowned for preaching a message of joyous hope for mankind, however, what he fails to consider is that salvation involves suffering too. Indeed, the very crux of Christ’s mission was to provide hope in the midst of turmoil, as he spelled out in his Sermon on the Mount. Increasingly, more and more folks are associating these Holy days, for example, Easter with tangential niceties but forgetting about the root reason, or at least putting the root secondary. If you study Man's timeline with respect to Christianity, you'd notice that Man began in paganism, adopted Christianity, and now is sadly reverting back to paganism. It is an extremely sad fact. In the above example, actually if you really think about it, isn't it just a bit disrespectful for someone such as person B to do this? It shows little consideration for Christ's passion, and without the passion, without the conquering of death on the cross, Easter becomes just another holiday like 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and Memorial Day and our faith becomes merely a label. Of course, no one is doing this intentionally; this being a societal evolution of misalignment in a way. We are all, including myself, person "B" at times in our life. However, as I like to think, it is not our mistakes that count against us in the end, it is what we do about the mistakes we make. Do we make an effort to reconcile and rebound? If you find yourself in such a predicament, do not blame yourself, for as devout a person you may be, still there exists room for improvement. Instead, take time to honestly reflect on the true nature of these special days. You will soon find yourself taking part in both the holiday and the holy day festivities!
Judging Others
This is a very touchy issue indeed. The big controversy seems to be, at what point does criticism become judgment. I once received an e-mail rebuke that I was passing judgment on choosing not to attend a Catholic church wedding ceremony for a divorced person. As you can imagine, this situation has been on the rise, with something like 52% of first marriages ending in divorce. Everybody was going "along with the crowd" except me. When asked why I opted out, I delicately stated that I did not think it was appropriate to stand before a couple in this predicament, as a witness to their marriage in a Catholic setting. Perhaps if they were at sea and married by a ship captain, then of course I would attend. Clearly divorce has not been allowed in traditional Catholicism, however as the Zeitgeist, the spirit of our times, would have it, our society has unfortunately wielded its influence to allow this. "You shouldn't judge others, only God is allowed to judge!" so I was reprimanded. I entirely agree...but not when it runs counter to the heart of what I profess to believe if I declare myself a true Catholic. For me, and many others in this category of integrity such as those belonging to Opus Dei, spiritual practices are no different than typical laws of society. And what happens if people decide not to yield to society's laws? For example, the typical traffic light, why should we wait until it turns green, why not go through whenever we like? Or the groceries in the supermarket, why not fill our wagons up and just steal them? Because established laws, whether they be secular or spiritual, are designed because of one fact that people seem to forget: humans are not altogether altruistic. Rather, they need rules and regulations to keep them in line. That's just the way it is, has been since the dawn of Man, and probably will continue to be. So, to constructively criticize someone for an obvious aberration may not necessarily be judging, but merely an enforcement of law. The police officer who pulls you over for going through a red light does not offer his opinion that you broke the law, he states so. And likewise, defenders of spiritual law simply do the same. That is why, for example, religious institutions such as the Catholic Church have guidelines on how to act, these are its 'laws' if a follower wishes to be a part of it. For what would we have but mass chaos in quicksand if no spiritual or secular laws were enacted? And where would our future be if everybody used the "you should not judge" excuse to do whatever they wanted?
Of course, defending our spiritual law should be done with care and compassion, something that we all, including myself, often forget to do. We are all breaking these laws to some extent. Some people are very religiously observant, but have no heart, and, some people have a ton of heart, but detest religion. As you see, we could all borrow certain qualities from each other. As pro golfer Tom Watson once said, “the best player is one who makes the least number of errors.”
Saintly Sinners
Complementary to the above is the often used phrase "all of us are sinners", given as a response to one's questionable actions. This phrase is quite true, and no one should think that they are above or beyond sin. Even in the littlest unseen ways, our instantaneous thoughts for example, carry as much weight as words. Admission of sin is quite commendable, and even more so when it is done through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. But there is a problem here. While certainly true and applaudable, declaring oneself to be a sinner is only fully valid if the recipient does something about it. Too many people seem to think that their wrongful actions are justified by following up with use of this phrase. As if repentance suffices simply by admitting that all of us are sinners. Similarly, using the words "I'm sorry" cannot be excluded from the point. How many times have we, including myself, said we're sorry to someone for something and just left it at that. Spirituality then takes on a very limited scope, when so-called faithful people are contented, lose no sleep, and feel no guilt simply by going through these motions of protocol. One's faith belief then becomes misaligned, when for example being a Catholic now means that all you have to do is apologize and admit that everybody sins and you feel you've done your duty as a Catholic. Taking this example further, what then becomes of the original faith belief, when people only attend Mass occasionally, don't go to Confession, and practice contraception, all the while sincerely believing they are good Catholics because most Catholic people they know do this? It is a terrible trend, and in time evolves a faith belief into something grossly opposite its original principle. Declaring that all of us are sinners as a catch-all excuse is therefore poor justification if the individual does nothing about it. We have all fallen victim to this, including me. Even the Saints sinned, but chose to then make amends in order to rebound. And in the end, isn’t it all about the choices we choose?
How a Compass Can Get You Lost
I was recently in a conversation with someone about religious institutions and how some people feel they are too restrictive. The person I was chatting with, a very conscientious, kind, good hearted individual, explained very eloquently that he thinks people should "follow their own compass" in deciding what values to hold as important for salvation. Initially I agreed with the person, however more needs to be discussed. It is true that each of us has a choice to make regarding our faith belief, some choose Christianity, some Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, etc. Some people choose their own beliefs, and some choose not to believe. To say that some people do not have disagreements with their chosen faith belief would be wrong. Indeed, in actuality most people find some aspect of their belief as not to their personal liking. Yet they still retain allegiance to the belief. This is human nature. You'll never get 100% compliance of course in something so complicated and significant as a religious belief. However, as much as the idea of "following your own compass" sounds commendable, I disagree with this person for one big reason: it fails to recognize the fact that humans are proven failures in spirituality and susceptible to evil. From the dawn of Man, was it not Adam and Eve who were living in a heavenly state but opted to disobey? This original sin has spiraled down into mankind and in a way, is part of our "DNA" if you will. Those who feel that they can attain salvation on their own and not be aligned with a particular faith are grossly neglecting this fact. Indeed, the very reason that a Messiah came was specifically because we are born sinners! If we were not, there would have been no Christ, no religion, and we would presently be living in heaven on earth. Mankind indeed needs structure and some degree of religious framework in order to attain salvation. When building a house, if you fail to follow the blueprints and 'wing-it' on your own, the house will collapse. Having a father who is an architect and a friend who is a contractor, I can attest to this! The "blueprints" of spirituality have been thoroughly tested and weathered; if anything we are at a distinct advantage having learned from thousands of years of religious belief systems and their prophets. Yet there are still some who insist their own bravado can independently ignore this fact and they can get to heaven. Granted all religious institutions, such as the Catholic Church, have their share of problems. Institutions are run by humans who make mistakes. But it would be foolish to abandon such institutions and 'wing-it', given the nature of Man's tendency to sin and the fact too that, if we say that we believe in God in the first place, we should equally acknowledge that Evil exists, and you wouldn't want to be in the forest by yourself when that beast is lurking. I personally would rather be part of a proven, weathered and defending team, even though I may disagree with some of its restrictions, wouldn’t you?
As an example, earlier the subject of contraception arose and this individual stated that he didn't think there was absolutely anything wrong with it. As you can see, this person, as amicable and good-hearted as they are, created their own value belief for whether contraception was right or wrong, and perhaps fell victim to society's pressures, many of which are undoubtedly influenced by evil. Would it not be better to consider the Catholic Church's longstanding, 2000 year's worth of thinking on the topic in such minds as Thomas Aquinas and Karol Wojtyla? I think we need to be honest in admitting that we are not individually strong enough to withstand temptation, that we need religious institutions to create the framework inside of which we can paint the portrait of ourselves so as to attain salvation and return to that pre-Man heavenly Garden of Eden. Humbleness, humility, and a bit of smarts may be what we all need more of.
The Everlasting Immortals of Lutcza
Note: this is the final part of the series “Lutcza and the search for babci Turon’s house”. Part's 1 and 2 can be found here.
Memories of an age long forgotten invaded our minds as we exited Lutcza’s old church of the Assumption. Standing there, we visualize into words our little babci running across the nearby wildflower meadow at the beckoning of church bells. Yet, here in Lutcza, we’ll shortly discover that nothing is forgotten.
“Let’s check the cemetery for any Turons” said Joanne. I have always held a special affinity for cemeteries, being surrounded by the dead, thus realizing what life is about. As we enter, it is filled in disarray with various 19th and 20th century tombstones and iron crosses. However, its revelations soon become quite clear. Turons are here, there, and everywhere! Judging by the extent of the Turon family baptismal records, we realize that yes, these graves hold the bones of our distant relatives. An incredible discovery in itself! However, as an avid gardener, the quest for deeper “roots” leave me scratching my head a bit…
Driving down the road, we spot two very old gravestones in the distance just at the edge of a hilly forest. “Up there!” I exclaim, as we then turn onto a gravel road and approach the site. As we pull over to the right, I dash over to inspect the two stones, glance into the woods, and suddenly realize that this duo is all that remains visible of an ancient, abandoned cemetery, completely absorbed by the growing forest! Up to my belly button in tall straw grass and thick weeds I braved this forgotten cemetery attempting to spot an ancient Turon. Nearly all of the headstones were washed out and worn, rendering their identity impossible. I then spot the ruins of a small shrine with about ten thousand blackbirds nesting inside.
As I bushwhack like a hunter out for his prey, they quickly get spooked and haphazardly fly towards me like something out of a Dracula film. Creepy.
Exiting the ancient cemetery wearing a sour puss, I relayed that emotion to the others who were standing outside the parked car. And then, absolutely out of nowhere, appears a woman in a red vest! She smiles at my mother and exchanges a distant hello. Then, one word became two, two became three, and the next thing we knew, we were sitting around a kitchen table with her family enjoying warm conversation and paczki! Ten minutes ago, we never knew these people, and now it seemed as if we knew them forever.
She, together with her husband, daughter, son-in-law, and their two children holding newborn kittens, exhibited the gracious hospitality known only to fairytales. Both the woman and her husband were quite knowledgeable on Lutcza’s history, and, via an English translation from their son-in-law, took us into their backyard and provided us with the answer to our ultimate question. The husband pointed to a hilltop in the distance overlooking the old Assumption church as we received his translated confirmation: “There, on that hilltop lived the Turon family.”
Sadly, nothing remained of our babci’s homestead but a few blades of grass. However, it soon became clear to us that despite the lack of a tangible structure, despite the skeletons and the washed out gravestones, our quest revealed that essentially, our babci’s life never really ended. Poland immortalizes her life and countless others through what we have just witnessed. And what a blessing that is for us.
No Nuke for You
It’s interesting to discover that, what’s good for you, may not be good for another. Or should it? Perish the thought that Iran engage in a nuclear program to allow itself the ability to develop and become a more energy efficient nation, and yes, at the same time arm itself with a contemporary weapon. “Oh no” say we, “they can’t develop nuclear power, they’re bad people.” The headlines are everywhere, and the talk of the American town is “Just say no to Iran”.
Interestingly, did anybody stop to realize the countless number of people saying no to America when it wanted and succeeded in developing the world’s number one arsenal of nuclear strength? Yet, we are “civilized” and Iran is uncivilized, isn’t that it? How dare we allow a regime who stated that Israel should be eliminated, to own nuclear power. On the surface, the logical mind would agree: No nuke for you, Iran! Because you have made that statement of hatred, it would follow then that you might use your nuclear power against your neighbor. A perfectly reasonable conclusion. However, reasonable in who’s mind?
The typical Iranian may indeed make an equally logical argument against America. If life and death are the real concerns of this whole issue, the United States would then be guilty of killing millions of innocent people, perhaps exponentially quadrupling the number of potential fatalities that an Iran vs. Israel conflict would cause. “When, Mr. Iranian” we refute, “did we kill so many people in the basis of your claim?”
Abortion. You see, by condemning Iran for its threat of a nuclear bomb, what we fail to do is consider that, to the Iranian, we continue to “nuke” millions of our own pre-born people through legalized abortion. In Iran, if someone were to have or perform an abortion, they would be taken to the town square and nearly disemboweled. Cruel, uncivilized, you might say? That is where we return to what is considered “reasonable and civilized.”
What we consider as reasonable and civilized may be considered as unreasonable and uncivilized to other cultures, and, what we consider as unreasonable and uncivilized may be considered as reasonable and civilized to other cultures. Americans, simply because of legality, consider abortion to be reasonable and civilized, and for example, hanging an accused criminal from a soccer field goal post to be unreasonable and uncivilized. We conclude therefore, that it’s “okay” for pre-conceived babies to die, and, that it’s outlandish to hang a person in such a manner. This does not bother our conscience. On the other side of the perspective, Iranians consider abortion to be a grave sin, unreasonable and uncivilized, and executing someone from a goal post to be reasonable and civilized. This does not bother their conscience.
Therefore, perhaps we should think twice about condemning a nation for its actions, and in this case, its nuclear ambitions. In our mind, yes, we see potential trouble. But we need to realize that in their mind, yes, they are saying the exact same thing about us.
This essay is not in defense of a particular position on nuclear weapons, but merely to shed light on the root cause of our conflicts. So, the real question is, who is one nation to declare what another nation should or shouldn’t do? What we are ultimately dealing with is a global ethnic, cultural, and moral value system conflict. So-called “natural law” may not necessarily be universal. Because what is “natural” may be entirely dependent on upbringing, culture, and history. It is said that we are all “tabula rosa”, or blank slates, at birth and only through life do we develop a value system. The wandering nomad in the desert may have an entirely different value system than the executive on main street. Are we to declare which one is right and which one is wrong?
And therein lies the issue…
Ostrowski's Response: The Curious Case of Ryan Hammons
In response to my story titled "The Curious Case of Ryan Hammons" (see below), a total of 137 people responded with their opinions. Results were tallied and posted, 51 people declared the story to be true, 17 were not sure, and 69 said it was false. Not surprisingly, the results seemed to confirm the fact that the majority of us are living our faiths...in a box.
I want to clarify perhaps a misunderstanding many people may have had upon reading my Hammons story. Several people indicated that "it is better to stick with their own faith rather than consider other possibilities", and that "we should not follow man's thinking on the subject". I also received a few responses saying "if the boy wasn't Christian, we don't know what happens to his soul."
First, by mentioning "rather than" in the sentence above, readers may have missed the point. The basis of my theory was to explain that we need not take sides with one faith and reject another, but rather consider the harmony of all of them. To consider "other possibilities" does not necessarily mean that one must reject another faith, as in the "rather than" response. This is my whole point. Many people like to categorize spirituality within a given framework (Christianity/Hinduism/Buddhism, etc.) simply because the mind finds this a convenient way of understanding and then they can live their life by this framework. However, what I am suggesting is that we should further add consideration for other faith beliefs into our life, not to abandon our given faith, but to expand it by adding other ideas. For example, I am a Catholic, I am remaining a Catholic, and (not but), I also believe some aspects of other faith beliefs such as Incarnation in Hinduism. Buddhism also has some very valid truths, as well as several other religions. As you see above, I used the word 'and', not 'but', because 'but' implies a compromise on the former, however using 'and' implies an integration of the two.
We need to finally realize that ultimately we are all in the same boat. Because all faiths bring some degree of validity to the table, it is wise then to think outside the box, realizing that divisions of religions, like our world has developed into, are terribly immature if we are to consider the very nature of an omnipotent, all powerful God, who manifests himself in a trillion ways across the planet. But the problem is, we like to think that this manifestation is exclusive to Christianity, or Hinduism, or Judaism, or Islam, etc. So Man does actually need to think more and realize his human understanding of spirituality is merely a grain of sand on the beach. Can you imagine what your deceased relatives are experiencing right now? In our wildest imagination we cannot fathom the immeasurable scope of life after death. All things then become known, and we will perhaps see the little 'box' we all lived in, with our mouths open in awe at what we never thought was possible. We need to perhaps remember what Mohandas Gandhi said: "Yes, I am a Hindu, and a Buddhist, and a Christian, and a Jew, and a Muslim." He makes a perfect point.
Some readers also countered by arguing that, "Well, how can one be, for example, a Hindu and a Christian at the same time? Surely these faiths have conflicting beliefs." In actuality however, that conclusion is absolutely incorrect. What we need to understand is that all religions have evolved since their creation, however, the core of all religions is essentially the same. It was only because of Man's intervention that religions developed distinctions and exclusive tenets, which were added to the faith's core after the founder of the faith departed. For example, if we look at the core of Christianity, nowhere in Christ's teachings does he indicate that Reincarnation is wrong. It was only centuries later that disciples of the Christian faith, specifically Catholicism, decided that Reincarnation was wrong. One may then argue, "Well, the decisions of these disciples are guided by the Holy Spirit so we must conclude that whatever they teach us is true." Yes, I would agree, but at the same time, make the point that if we accept some men's decisions as being guided by the Holy Spirit, why then do we reject other men's decisions as not being guided by the Holy Spirit? Rejecting Reincarnation means rejecting what Gandhi taught. But should not Gandhi be worthy of being guided by the Holy Spirit? So, our religions today have unfortunately become very exclusive and covetous due to Man's infiltration and selfish desire for his faith to be unique, far from their original core founder's mission which was identical in all religions.
To clarify the point, I often ask people two questions. Let's say there's a sweet, loving, and innocent 10 year old Christian boy who suddenly dies. Does he go to heaven? Every Christian I have asked this to, including Catholics and Evangelicals, very firmly say "Yes, this boy will go to heaven." I then ask them a follow-up question. Let's say there's a sweet, loving, and innocent 10 year old Buddhist boy who suddenly dies. Does he go to heaven? And their response is, "Well, we don't know what God holds in his infinite mercy." On the surface, this may seem like a nice answer to give, however, it is actually an immature insult to spirituality. Do you see the mentality driving the different responses? By not giving the same firm response as in the former question, the Christian is inferring that the Buddhist boy may not go to heaven, even if it's a subtle inference, in however nice a statement they want to give. And you need not be educated about Buddhism, or any different religion than your own, to offer the correct answer, which should be the same for both questions.
For the 69 people who said that the Hammons boy case, which was well documented, examined, and tried to be debunked, was false, your negative reply may be proof-positive that we are indeed living our faiths...in a box.
The Curious Case of Ryan Hammons
Six year old Ryan Hammons of Oklahoma has been for the past three years declaring himself to be a former Hollywood actor. The young boy specifically pointed out his “former” self while browsing through a film-noire photo book. A child’s fantasy, you might say? Not quite, because Ryan described over one hundred details about the life of the man in the photo, who appeared obscurely in the background, having no clue as to his identity which was not listed anywhere. In fact, the case was brought to a University of Virginia past-life research group, who's doctors have documentated hundreds of such cases usually occurring in children less than ten years old. The group petitioned the Hollywood film preservation society, who meticulously identified the man in the photo from archived original film scripts as Marty Martyns. Interestingly, 90 out of 102 details the young boy gave since he was three and before he even saw the photo were completely true, including the street Martyns lived on, interior details of the Rolls Royce he owned, and the name of his wife. Ryan, or “Marty”, was asked why he had come back. And the boy’s response: “My old me has to relearn lessons because of greed.”
Reincarnation? My earnest opinion, which supports the idea of Purgatory, is that souls such as Martyns are paying reparations for their sins by their spirits being incarnated, not reincarnated, in other people. Interestingly, when this story was relayed to a few of my elder friends and relatives, their immediate reaction was "No, no, no. Nobody's spirit comes back. They belong to the church in heaven and we belong to the church on earth, that's all." This typical "we're right and everybody else is wrong" response is found in many westernized religions, including Christianity. Objectively speaking, to flat out condemn any spiritual phenomenon without disproving it is entirely wrong. Yet we see this philosophy manifesting itself in the thousands of religious sects and branches in our everyday world, each purporting that they are the one true faith. If you disagree with Ryan Hammons being the incarnated spirit of Marty Martyn, then prove your point. If you cannot prove your rebuttal, then the objective mind must accept the fact that all indications from diligent and exhaustive efforts reveal that this is clearly a case of either incarnation or reincarnation. But still, we crawl back into our holes and stubbornly refuse to accept the facts.
It may not be so far-fetched for the typical Catholic, for example, to understand what happened here, since Catholics already believe in Purgatory, a "holding state" between Heaven and Hell. Consider that Martyn's soul, along with billions of others, are in Purgatory praying for the opportunity of reparation for their sins. Most people already accept that the souls of the dead are praying for us, just as we pray for them, in fact we often invoke their intercession don't we? Indeed, Andrew Ostrowski.com would argue that if anyone needs prayers more, it would be us on earth rather than the other way around, the souls in Purgatory. This website would further argue that deceased souls are probably continuously praying for us left and right because these souls went through the life/death process, committed their sins which they regret, and now are desperately seeking grace, so therefore they intensely pray for us as a reparation. Well, why then is it so incomprehensible to believe that God answers a deceased person's "prayer" allowing them to be instilled into our earthly lives to help us? Indeed that would be an excellent way to offer earthly assistance and the ultimate answer to a prayer! Incarnation of deceased spirits is very real and happens all the time unbeknownst to us, as in the case of Ryan Hammons. It is very important to point out that with incarnation the host soul, such as Ryan's, still bears responsibility for their own soul, but the spirit of the deceased soul helps the earthly host soul perfect itself, thereby allowing the deceased soul to gain grace so as to leave Purgatory. We don't realize this of course simply because we don't spend time thinking about it.
Honestly and sincerely, step back a minute and ask yourself: "Why is it hard for me to believe this?" You may soon realize that you have probably been groomed and conditioned to accept a certain religious mindset. I would offer a solution. Instead of being robotic, ritualistic people of a religion, let's try to use our God-given minds to think, think, and think even more about what life and death are really about. Ask questions, be open minded, don't be afraid. Asking questions and thinking about your soul is how you learn and grow. Consider that there is ample evidence supporting many facets of spirituality, including Incarnation, even though your faith belief may never teach about them. Only afterwards then can we appreciate the true meaning of life and death and see the universality of it all. For example, I am a devout Catholic, and I accept some principals of other religions simply because I have pondered them, researched them, and came to an intellectual conclusion. I am a Catholic not because I have been blindly conditioned, rather, I am a Catholic because I personally pondered its teachings and made intellectual conclusions. We should not "take sides" with our faith, but rather see that there is truth and merit in nearly all religions, including the fact that this young boy is clearly experiencing an incarnation of a deceased soul. So, dead people are actually not dead after all, but in fact very much alive and interactive in people's lives, through intercession and incarnation. And what a wonderful thing to realize. Why then do we fail to spend time sincerely thinking about our life after our death? The big question is, after reading about this young boy, are you going to once again close the book and continue to live your life as usual, caught up in your everyday web of physical doings, what you will eat, what you will wear, or are you going to take a little extra time to think about your own very real, validated, and proven life after your own death as this story proves? When are you going to start thinking?!
See this website's section Totus Tuus Opus Dei for the distinction between Incarnation and Reincarnation.
Read the story about Ryan Hammons and Marty Martyn
See http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0912/22/lkl.01.html for a televised media discussion on the topic.
Wartime Accountability
Veteran's Day has always been quite memorable, and this year I had the opportunity to view three films that simply do a superb job at portraying our heroic servicemen, specifically from World War II. Twelve O'clock High, starring Gregory Peck, highlights the aerial bombardment efforts of the Allied forces against Germany's war-specific technical factories, such as ball bearing plants. As I watched the film, I was reminded of my own uncle, Stanley Ostrowski, who took part in these missions. The Great Escape appeared next on the screen, which details the heroic tunneled escape of 76 Allied prisoners of war from the infamous Stalag Luft 3 in what is now Zagan, Poland. And lastly, The Stranger, a brilliantly suspense-filled film-noire starring Edward G. Robinson and Orson Welles. Robinson, a Nazi war crimes hunter, tracks the notorious SS officer Franz Kindler, played by Welles, as the desperate German escapes to the U.S. and finds safe haven as a college professor in a quaint New England town. A potentially true to life story, although accountability has never fully been reached in regard to all of these war criminals. However, what failed to escape my attention was the afterthought of this so-called "accountability". What has been done to bring to justice ALL of the contributors to the "final solution?" I'm referring specifically to the company that supplied Zyklon B, the principle killing agent at Majdanek concentration camp in Poland. This cyanide based pesticide was first used on sick Poles at Auschwitz, then used to kill roughly 1.2 million more people. The company defended itself by claiming its product was meant for "rodent extermination" as was clearly stated on the label. However, how does such a company escape full prosecution when it obviously supplied thousands of Zyklon B canisters to the Nazi war machine? Not to mention the bricklayers and oven suppliers who built the crematoriums and said nothing. Indeed there may still be numerous "Franz Kindlers" out there.
Who's the real Bull in Bullying?
We begin this week with reports of yet another bullying incident making headlines. It is rather interesting to learn that repeatedly, despite exemplary efforts made by newscasters such as Anderson Cooper and Dr. Phil, no one seems to realize the root cause of these tragedies. Blame is continually placed on big, brash kids who taunt calls of “sissy” at fellow schoolmates who happen to speak or appear less masculine. However, are these antagonistic kids really to blame? What should we expect when our children are brainwashed by so-called PG-13 rated movies promoting the ideal male image as being muscular and aggressive? Added to that, the all-American values our culture promotes is its man-against-man competitive drive instilled in our children. And God help the kid who prefers reading a book over playing football. Perhaps we should be blaming ourselves, not our kids.
Un-Occupy Wall Street
If only society would realize that, regrettably, the only reason that America has always stood atop the world and is idealized has been largely due to...the rich. Clearly it is an historic fact that private sector big businesses and entrepreneurial moguls have always been the impetus for economic growth in this country, NOT the fair-minded Democratic ideal we all think our country embodies. Indeed, arguably the only reason you and I are successful is because somebody somewhere is not. Such is the price paid for capitalism. For what is the "American Dream", but a desire to prosper, not to share the wealth as these protesters seem to be hinting at in some form of Democratic Socialist movement likened to the John Doe club. If there exists such a Utopian society somewhere in the figment of our imagination, there must be an unlimited supply of resources to be had. Unfortunately, reality tells us that there is only so much to go around, therefore our society has resorted to a battle between the have and the have-nots, masked under the guise of "Democracy". Ask the homeless person living in the gutter, proof positive, or the tycoon living on the hilltop. The Occupy Wall Street argument is ignorant of the fact that the mere ability of these protesters to protest in the first place is entirely because of capitalistic freedom. Were their signs and drums given to them for free? No, they earned money, bought the materials, and now are toting these signs and beating these drums, paid for with money. Essentially how then does that become different than the tycoon earning money and buying a yacht? Is this a qualitative issue or a quantitative one? Is it not therefore ironic and hypocritical for a group of people, having the freedom to protest and earn and spend money, to then protest against the very reason why they are able to stand there? True, capitalism is one of the furthest ideologies to Christianity. However, how does one grow in Democratic Socialism? Perhaps we have finally reached the crossroads of our juxtaposed self-destruction.
Sex Ed 101 in your kid's classroom
In a "brilliantly brainless" decision, New York City schools chancellor Dennis Walcott has decided that Sex Education 101 will now be a mandatory class for all NYC public high school students. Great, let's set an honorable example, show the kids how mature we are, and feed them info on the tactical methods of how not to get pregnant so they can be just like us when they grow up. Idiotic thinking strikes again! How about teaching the kids about the sanctity of life, and that the procreative process which gives life is therefore sanctified as well? Shouldn't our goal be to get these kids to appreciate life to the point where they cherish it, care for it, and nurture it, thus reserving their sexual activity for the exclusive intent of bringing a new life into the world? Wouldn't that be the best approach? But no, we throw them a prophylactic and a couple of how-to slide shows using a banana and consider ourselves "very wise and learned educators." Fortunately, protests have ensued, signifying the last dying hope of a people still showing some degree of moral fabric about them. The mere fact that the story has made headlines is evidence in itself that we still hold ourselves accountable to some kind of moral standard, as low as that may be. And talk about anti-discrimination policy supposedly enforced in the learning curriculum. Is it not then a discriminatory act to only teach kids the methods of contraception and to not teach them about abstinence? Surely this then is discrimination against religion, including Catholicism and Christianity on the whole!
Dangers of the la-de-da society
Have you ever dreamed of living in a cool, oceanfront town, where fresh air is plentiful, songbirds are singing, and everybody is wearing a smile? Indeed such places exist, such as the small town I once happened upon around Chesapeake Bay. Driving the required minimal speed limit enforced by privately hired police, I noticed home after home, each one worth more than my watch's calculator function could display. Comprised entirely of upper middle class residents, everything about this town was perfect. No garbage in the gutters, no potholes in the roads, no graffiti, and nobody arguing, everybody greeting one another happily and saying nice things. In short, the perfect, quintessential la-de-da society bearing no troubles, no worries, and no fear. Wouldn't you like to live there? You'd better ditch God, because in the la-de-da society, there simply is little to no need for faith. Why? To answer this we must realize that faith often develops out of a society's need to alleviate its woes with some kind of assurance that better things are to come. Indeed studies indicate that cultures having the most diverse peoples are more inclined to have active faith communities simply due to different peoples interacting with one another causing strife. Additionally, in such diverse cultures, intellectualization often increases because it forces people to think more about such strife situations. The result being the need for religion to factor into the remedy. However, in the la-de-da society, there is little strife, and so there is little need for religion. What happens to a family of five when the parents fail to regularly habitualize their children to established faith practices? In the la-de-da society, parents teach their children to be a "nice person" and feel no need to regularly condition their kids spiritually. What then will these children eventually teach their own children, and what will their own children eventually teach their children? In time, the la-de-da society itself thus becomes the religion. A homeowner in such a society would say "Well, what's wrong with teaching my child to be a nice person?" The answer is, nothing is wrong. But only a fool would fail to realize that Man, by his very nature as witnessed in history, is not strong enough to live a spiritual-less life and simultaneously maintain perfection. If he were, we would all be living in heaven on earth. Therefore, the la-de-da society, as innocent as it may seem, actually ends up being counterproductive in the end.