Brilliant lights are shining when you least expect them to. One of them came to me yesterday in the form of a digital link to Handel’s Messiah performance; it is an audio recording of the Saint Thomas Choir of Men and Boys in New York City that they initially performed in 2019. St Thomas is a beautiful Church, and their music programs are outstanding. During my time working in New York City, I often visited the church. After moving away, I continued to visit, especially around the Christmas holiday season. So, here I am, in East Tennessee, listening to the full performance, envisioning the choir and the church’s comfort surrounding me.

While everyone is currently overwhelmed with today’s political, economic, and social issues, we must not lose our historical perspective. Seventy-nine years ago today, events occurred that propelled the United States into World War II.

There are generations of people living in our United States to whom this event and subsequent actions seem distant; to a shrinking number of others, this is still a vibrant and essential part of our national fabric.

For me, today always reminds me of my cousin, George Adams. George was a young US Navy sailor in Pearl Harbor that fateful day. He didn’t talk much about his experiences in later years. However, I have childhood memories of his few stories, and best of all, I was the ring bearer at his wedding to his wonderful wife, Jean, in later years.

George went on to a successful career in the Navy, retiring at the highest enlisted rank. As a result of his Pearl Harbor service, he is buried at the Arlington National Cemetery; his wife, Jean, also served as an Army nurse during the war and will be interred next to him.

So, today is a special day, and I am so proud of them.

Dolly, you are fantastic; you have described the perfect way to live out your life.

People everywhere are suffering from economic, social, and medical issues; yet, they, like you, find ways to help others. I’d like to be more like you, for sure.

I happen to live about 25 miles from where Dolly was born and raised; she is genuinely our local, living heroine. She’s a part of the fabric of Eastern Tennessee, starting her career on a local radio show, to global fame and recognition for doing the right thing.

Long before her super-stardom, a local Knoxville grocer named Cas Walker sponsored a radio show; in 1956, at the age of 10, Dolly began her remarkable career in singing and songwriting.

She’ll surely never, ever, rust out.

In Dallas, fifty-seven years ago today, our Nation was reeling from the shock of John Kennedy’s assassination. It was an event that rocked the world; everyone my age remembers where they heard the initial news reports and what they were doing at the time.

What amazes me today is that there’s no mention of the event in at least three major newspapers that I read each day. Not a single line or article appeared reminding us of our Nation’s loss.

Every media outlet around the world carried endless reports of what took place in excruciating detail. I have copies of magazines and newspapers from the day; they are vivid reminders of what happened more than a half-century earlier.

We are indeed going through a political battle of epic proportions at this moment in time, yet, for a moment, it would be nice to pause and remember something equally epic. We all came through that period intact, and hopefully, we’ll enter 2021 ready for change and new opportunities.

I’m ready.

One of my favorite festivals is taking place in Mexico this week, celebrating All Saints Day: Dia de Los Muertos, or Day of The Dead.

The festivities are loud, fun, and colorful, rather than a period of mourning. While I have been fortunate to travel worldwide, at the top of my “bucket list” would be a visit to Oaxaca, ground zero for this incredible event.

I hope to make it one day; in the meantime, I’ll find some marigolds to display; they are Flor de Muerto (Flower of Dead) used to celebrate in a small way. At least the departed souls will have something to look for when they pass me.

Yesterday I joined a lovely celebration at my church for All Saint’s Day. It was a marvelous hour of peace, with Holy Communion, a timely and thoughtful sermon, joined by fellow parishioners, held in our church’s grove.

Since the pandemic began, our Diocese, like others, put in-person gatherings on hold. Weather permitting, our church has held a few outdoor services; yesterday, about 30 people came together for this beautiful celebration. Most of us brought our chairs; everyone wore masks throughout (except for Communion).

A three-piece string ensemble played, with one choir member present to lead us in the Hymns. While I have attended the occasional service in our grove, this was a special day, at a particular time. Feeling the sun on my back, with the blue sky and trees above me, was magical. It was comforting, peaceful, and meaningful.

The closing hymn was titled: “I sing a song of the saints of God.” Even though we all wore masks, everyone raised their voice in song. In our church, the celebration of All Saints Day encompasses everyday people, not remote or distant Saints.

The last stanza of the hymn called out to me; we sang this: “You can meet them in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains or in shops, or at tea, for the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.”

In these troubled times, I can’t think of a more important goal.

It’s possible to find things on the internet that you didn’t even know you needed. A case in point is a new holiday decoration that celebrates the challenges of the year 2020. I couldn’t have designed this any better than it’s shown here.

It’s pretty clear to me millions of people are looking forward to the New Year. While I didn’t realize I needed an ornament to remind me of just how exhausting 2020 has been, this item seems to be a must-buy.

This year has been one endless assault on nearly every emotion or pain point we have ever had. Relentlessly, every person receives a barrage of information, some factual, others very far from the truth.

So, yes, I am waiting for the New Year with more enthusiasm than I can even explain. I sure hope we aren’t all disappointed at whatever is coming our way.

I was fortunate to have worked for a time in the World Trade Center (on the 89th floor as I recall) and visited it many times for business and social occasions. One important feature was the restaurant atop one of the buildings. It was called Windows on the World, and believe me when you looked out their windows, you could see the World.

Within the restaurant was a smaller, more intimate restaurant called Cellar in the Sky. It was a very, very popular restaurant for two reasons. One, it was relatively small, like a neighborhood restaurant. And two, they served a fixed menu with wines selected for the meal by their sommelier. 

When you made a reservation, they didn’t tell you what they were offering, so when you showed up, there was a lovely, small menu at your place with the details of the meal and order of service.

What an experience. As I recall, at the time, the meal (including the wine) was $75 per person). It was a staggering amount of money then, but believe me, it was worth every single penny. This experience gave dining out new meaning, and I returned as often as I could afford it.

When the tragedy occurred, people everywhere were stunned. For anyone who’d ever worked in the building or had friends there, it was just unimaginable. Even though I didn’t live in New York at that time, for a moment, we were all New Yorker’s again.

As years went by and progress went on with the museum and new construction, I often thought of visiting; however, I didn’t want to for some unknown reason. I suppose my memories of the time I spent in the buildings were too strong, and I had a hard time imagining none of that existed any longer. 

Finally, on a visit to New York City around my birthday, I did head to the museum for a long-overdue tour. It was time.

As I visited the museum, the buildings’ memories, the vibrancy of the activity in and around them, and the subsequent devastating loss of life was overwhelming. There are so many memories – and they all came flooding back the second I walked into the exhibits.

The young and newly married husband of my daughter’s high school friend memorialized there forever. She was 3-months pregnant with their daughter when he died, and while their lives have gone on without him, his name carved in stone as a constant reminder of horrific and unnecessary loss.

There are artifacts, remembrances, photos, voices, clippings, steel pieces, and concrete at every turn in the museum. In the background, through the silence, everyone hears the song “Amazing Grace” played softly and so well by a bagpipe musician.

It isn’t a museum of paintings and sculptures created hundreds of years ago — it’s a living, breathing, and powerful reminder of people, places, and an event that was (and is) unimaginable to everyone.

Please don’t miss this experience. It will remain in your thoughts forever.

During the pandemic, we’ve all been unable to travel (or visit, as they say in the South). So instead of writing about something, I’m including a few images that I’ve taken along my journeys nearer to home. These are some of my favorites; you may like then as well.

There are things about living in the South that is special and unique. Language, accents, heritage, history, and small country stores are a part of this patchwork of people and places. Stores like this were the supermarkets of the day; serving up bologna sandwiches, shoes, soda, smokes, and gossip.

Everywhere, towns have thrived, died, and returned; a small town in the South reflects generations of relatives, all doing their very best to make do with what they have. Religion, faith, and family form the backbone of the people and towns, although a love for barbecue, high school football, and farm equipment runs a close second.

The family that owns and operated this store have lived in the area for generations. Both the mother and father of the family had limited education. Yet, they ran a very successful business; they encouraged their children to graduate college, raise families in a tangible, meaningful way, and to respect and nurture the land that they own to this day.

When the extended family is together for a holiday or celebration, there’s always enough food for more families to join in; no one is ever a stranger to these folks.

Even me, a native Californian.