I had hoped to like this better, but I am used to journalists writing this kind of book. Steel's book is more personal. I wanted to know how these peoI had hoped to like this better, but I am used to journalists writing this kind of book. Steel's book is more personal. I wanted to know how these people became homeless and how they are now surviving.
Steel begins this story with her son's mental illness and deScent into homelessness and his death. Then she prays to God and is told to help the homeless, which she does, and I commend her for that. She brings them jackets and sleeping bags and in time she does more. One Christmas she gave men and women a teddy bear, and even the men cried. This was very touching.
I just never learned why they were homeless and how they are surviving. Plus, this book was written years ago....more
I had mixed feelings bout this book. While it was always interesting, it was not a book that I could not put down. Still, it caused me to think a lot I had mixed feelings bout this book. While it was always interesting, it was not a book that I could not put down. Still, it caused me to think a lot about the human condition. Not that I had any new thoughts about it.
A German was being held as a prisoner of war in a Russian mining camp. All prisoners lived in the mines where they mined lead, and they contacted lead poisoning and knew it. Even their prisoners knew that this was happening, but the cruelty was not just hte lad poisoning. I thought back to the book, "The Iron Rooster," and how in the 80s the Chinese shot those who had committed crimes, and it didn't matter how little the crime was. They were getting rid of those who were bad for society. Yet, in both of these cases, the Russians and the Chinese, those in charge were far more evil than those in prison. It happens everywhere; it is the human condition. It is the desire to see people punished to a greater extent than deserved. It is like those who believe in hellfire or karma because, well, they too, desire people to be punished. Even those in America are becoming more brutal than in the past, or is the past just catching up with us?
So, this man in this book, had done very little to be imprisoned. And when he escaped, I felt cheerful. The people on theoutside of the priSon were much more kind towards him, even inviging him into their homes, often knowing that he was an escaped prisoner.
Do the the hospitality of the Russians, it took hm three years to get to the boarder. The warmth and kindness of strangers made this book remember-able and pleasant to read....more
“People are best able to change when they find two things at once in nature, something to fear, a threat, something they must avoid, and also somethin“People are best able to change when they find two things at once in nature, something to fear, a threat, something they must avoid, and also something to love, a quality which they can do their best to honor.” ~~After Nature” by Jedediah Purdy
A lyrical exploration of the ground beneath our feet: graves, caves, caverns, and the melting of the Artic, just to mention a few. The quote above came from his exploration of the Artic, how global warming would only be reversed if people first hade the experience of fear.
I had read about the animals in the Artic being uncovered due to the melting ice, and its release of Amthrax which is active and killing people and animals, but I didn’t know that toxic waste, mainly in the form of radiation is being uncovered.
I liked the story of the man who was out hunting rabbits, and one of them hopped behind some boulders. Being hungry, he went after the rabbit, pushing aside some boulders and Found a burial cave where ancient people had been buried.
His stories about people dying in caves that they were exploring were rather chilling. Some had gotten stuck, others died from carbon monoxide, and some just fell. I can think of better things to do, like see the cave or cavern after it had been made safe. Carl’s Bad Caverns are a must to see.
Mankind knows how to make a mess of things too, as I am thinking of how the ice is melting on Greenland and how oil companies are lining up to drill oil. Then burying toxic chemicals under the ice, not knowing that someday it would all melt. I wonder what else they will find in the Artic and elsewhere
This was a fascinating read and if you like this kind of thing, there is another book out there “Underground.” Both explore the city under Paris, but after that they part ways. I cannot tell you which book I loved best, but I can say that it would be nice to read about more underground explorations....more
I never knew that he had a TV show at one time, but if I knew, then I have forgotten. Instead, I used to wish that we had one that gave Fue Excelante
I never knew that he had a TV show at one time, but if I knew, then I have forgotten. Instead, I used to wish that we had one that gave us stories about people’s lives, positive stories. If someone were to do a series of stories now, I think it would be all negative because now our country is too politicalize. It would always be about Trump or this Covid virus. But we need positive stories about people’s lives.
The first part of this book was about his beginnings as a journalist. He was almost killed in Vietnam but was saved by a man whose name he had not known and had wished to thank. Then he was in New Orleans during the anti-segagation movement when the first black girl was taken to school with guards at her side. And one white girl came along also, both in terror as the crowd shouted obscenities at them. I wonder how this affected their lives in later years. These stories that he covered were interesting.
In later years, he had his own TV show, and I think it was called “On the Road.” I wish that they had reruns of it. He met a man of 92 years that made his own bricks, and he was able to go to South America to teach others how to make them, and this at the age of 92.
There were so many wonderful stories in this book that I was happy to see that he had written several books....more
I have a friend who is reading a book on the dying of the Colorado River which sounded Interesting to me, but then she prefers a different booK, “ClimI have a friend who is reading a book on the dying of the Colorado River which sounded Interesting to me, but then she prefers a different booK, “Climate Courage.” I gave her all the reasons why we will not be able to stop global warming, even saying that it is too late. She had heard those reasons, but this author thinks that we will get together and change things around. I don’t see this happening. We can’t even get together on the virus, much less politics. So, I reads the sample of this book she likes, and it gave all the reasons why we think we can’t change. I deleted the sample and di not get the book. Instead, I found this one. It seemed favored amough readers here. The one she likes only got twelve reviews. Are we just pessimistic? I don’t think so.
So far, in this book, we hear about the explorers of America, and that was pretty exciting to me. Loved the dangerous boat trips along the rivers, but then I hated reading about Lewis and Clark and how they killed beavers for their skins. Mountain men were no different. What we have done to our country and to the world is atrocious. How I will feel about the rest of this book, only time will tell. I am more open to reading another adventure book.
Hours Later. I had to skip much of this book as I didn’t want to read about the politics. Things of interest: While I knew that San Diego was a desert, I didn’t realize that about Los Angeles, but I really didn’t know that San Francisco was also. It had no trees until they piped in water. The other point of interest was that there are many dams in California, and if one breaks, it can cause others to break at the same time, a domino effect. My feeling is if California is running out of water, you don’t have to worry about the dams breaking.
I think, It doesn’t matter where you live. Fine a good State or place to live where there is water, and in time, people will be running there to get away from the droughts, and you maybe be trampled, if not, they will drink all the water.
More random thoughts: This book reminds me of James Michener, minus the dinosaurs, saber tooth tigers, and wooly mammals.
And then I get to the end of the book, realizing that I have probably only read a fourth of it. So boring. We come to the State where I am living, Oklahoma. The Ogalala aquafer is drying up. I knew that, but this means that we could have another dust bowl. I guess instead of moving here from California, we should have moved to Idaho. Like my friend who is reading “Climate Courage” said, “It is too cold there.” I once read that Russia is the safest place to live during all this. Yes, I think. If you can only get rid of Putin....more
This is moe than just a travel book because the purpose of the author's travel ws to meet interesting people and talk about them. I have always wishedThis is moe than just a travel book because the purpose of the author's travel ws to meet interesting people and talk about them. I have always wished that there would be a TV program that did this, and he had his own TV show years ago, but I don't recall it. We could use one now in our times of turmoil.
He met interesting people like a doctor that only charged $3 per office visit and often took food in exchange. Then one I really liked was a man who, in his childhood, never had a bicycle, so he now repaired throwaway bicycles and loaned them out to kids for free. The list goes on and on. ...more
I didn’t realize that we had actual account from the slaves of their own escapes from slavery, so this book was a surprise to me.
A slavA Winning Book
I didn’t realize that we had actual account from the slaves of their own escapes from slavery, so this book was a surprise to me.
A slave makes a crate mail himself a free state to an abolishment’s office. He put in a little water and some biscuits and that was all he had for the 26 hours that it would take him to get there. Another slave learns to bark like a dog so he can frighten away his pursuers. Some women dressed as men. Another woman, carrying her baby, jumped across broken up ice on a river to escape.
I believe there are 30 accounts from those who had escaped or had tried to escape. All heart wrenching and eye opening. This is the book that should have won the Pulitzer for what could be more real than that which was real?
Fredrick Douglas’ escape is in this book. Also, the woman who had killed her own child to prevent it from growing up in slavery, is also in it Toni Morrison used her story in her Pulitzer Prize winning book, “Beloved.” I have told myself that I must try to read her book again, as well as do a reread of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”
Bosnia 1992 to 1995. The genocide began in 1992. No reason other than racism and the fear of other religions. The Serbians hated the MuslimA war story
Bosnia 1992 to 1995. The genocide began in 1992. No reason other than racism and the fear of other religions. The Serbians hated the Muslims. Just as in America, many whites hate nonwhites. I was once told by a so-called Christian that I should ignore the racism in our Club. No one is perfect, and my need for perfection in people was not being loving. It was then thrown into my face some more. “As if you are perfect,” she stated. It is not about perfection; it is about love, loving your neighbor, causing no harm. It is about the very core of Christianity. Racism causes harm even though it is in words only. Words lead to violence. I never said those words to her, because I am not a quick thinker. I didn’t have them in my mind. I just quit the Club, but it took me a few times, always thinking that no one else would have a racist comment to say. Ending her friendship took a while, too, because she was persistent. I often felt stalked by her and her pleads.
I picked up this book thinking that it was a bout a cat. I didn’t read it for months because I thought that it would not be a great read. Not all animal stories are. I just didn’t read the entire title. That is a long story. Also, this book is classified as a teenage book. No, it isn’t. The author is a fantastic writer. The book is a page turner.
It is a story about a 16-year-old girl named Amra and her family. It is a story about war and survival. It is a story of courage, of hope, of despair, and of course it is a story about a cat, Amra’s cat that she never named but just called her “Cat.” This would be “Maci” in her own language. Pronounced “Moo-see.”
Maci followed her home one day, and at first her parents would not allow her to keep the cat, but Maci prevailed, and when it was believed that she had saved Amra’s brother, they allowed Maci to stay, for now Maci was special.
The Serbs and the Muslims lived peacefully together or so it seemed. Amra was a Muslim, and even had a Serbian friend, that is, until the day that her friend said that they could no longer hang out together. Then one day when Amra went to school, the Serbian children never showed up. A Muslim teacher came into the classroom and told the children to go home, that the Serbs have left, and the military is on its way.
How anyone can survive in all this fear,the bombing, snipers, and little food, is beyond me. Of course, many did not survive. At first, Amra and her family moved into a neighbor’s cellar, leaving Maci at home to survive on her own. Still Amra’s dad would chance going home to feed her, and then they all chanced going home and stayed, even after some missals tore apar their house.
Maci plays a major part in this story, and I came to love her and the family, and I worried about them all. Then at the end of the book, I cried, and I realize that this book will stay with me for a long time....more
I stood on the bridge that crossed from Laredo to Nuevo, Mexico while watching a teenage boy crawl through a bro“Love Thy Neigh or as Thyself.” ~Jesus
I stood on the bridge that crossed from Laredo to Nuevo, Mexico while watching a teenage boy crawl through a broken chain link fence. He walk to the river’s edge and took off most of his clothing. Then he held his clothes over his head and waded through the shallow waters of the river. Once across, he disappeared into the bushes to get dressed, and then he moved on. It looked so easy. I knew he was just going to Laredo, because he had no backpack, nothing that spoke to me of a long trek ahead of him. Perhaps he was going to work or just to shop or visit friends.
Years later I was to learn how dangerous it was to cross the border for I had read “The Devil’s Highway.” Coyotes, the guides who helped the Mexicans cross the border would not tell those crossing illegally that it wasn’t just a day’s walk, but many days were involved. And they only had a small bottle of water to carry them through the long hot days ahead. Being left on their own the water ran out. Often they died in the desert. The few fortunate ones made it across.
I still have images of a pregnant woman, her body lying dead in the desert, almost mummified, and her stomach, once large, lay flat against her body, like the woman I saw in Guanajuato, Mexico in their mummy museum. Some things just never leave a person’s mind.
This was true for this author as well, only he was there. He was a young man, graduated from college with a degree in International Relations and wanted first-hand experience, so he joined the Border Patrol. The things he saw in the desert gave him nightmares. For one thing, he often dreamed that he was spitting his teeth out of his mouth. When he finally went to the dentist, he was told that he was grinding his teeth down.
He was one of the kind-hearted patrol men. He felt for the people crossing, and when he found them, he doctored their injuries, fed them, and gave them advice about crossing the border, such as “do not cross in the summer.” It wasn’t information to help them cross; it was information to keep them from dying.
Most crossing the border were not carrying drugs, they just wanted a better life, often a safe life. Few made it. If they didn’t die in the desert, they were caught and sent back by the Boarder Patrol. With all the surveillance, I wondered how anyone made it, even without it.
Besides feeling bad for the Hispanics who are crossing the border, I felt a lot of things, such as how to solve the border crisis, and how to solve the drug problems in the U.S., Mexico, Central and South America. I have no answers, and I doubt if anyone else does. Right now, the only answer I see is to give amnesty when needed and cause no more harm to these fine people who have endured so much just to escape from getting killed in their own homelands....more
It was the 70s. The young woman sat in my history class listening to the professor talk about slavery. Then she said, “They loved being slaves. That iIt was the 70s. The young woman sat in my history class listening to the professor talk about slavery. Then she said, “They loved being slaves. That is why they were always singing and dancing. We all laughed, but we should have gasped. Our laugh was how we corrected her. There should have been something said and maybe there was, and I have just forgotten. This book has that correction. They sang and they danced because they were forced to do so, and tears would slide down their faces like rain as they watched their loved ones being sold into slavery. Never to see them again. Their enslavers wanted them to look like they were happy to besold into slavery, and the South perpetuated this myth ever since. And the dance and the singing went on and on throughout history.
This book was just too horrifying for me. I thought of how the Jews were treated in Germany and elsewhere, even the Native Americans. People don’t realize, some won’t believe it, that America had its own Nazi Germany, its own Auschwitz, so to speak. And when historians said that Hitler learned from us, he did, more so than we would like to think. When I finished this chapter, I had to put the book down.
I recall how some people who had read The People’s History of the U.S. believed that it was all lies, and that it only taught Americans to hate their country. This book goes deeper, much deeper. You will question the humanity of mankind....more
This book is just as engaging as the first book. And again, I did not wish it to end because I was enjoying Sequel to “As Far from the Bamboo Grove.”
This book is just as engaging as the first book. And again, I did not wish it to end because I was enjoying the interactions that the children had with each other, how they cared for one another in such extremely, harsh conditions.
Yoko and her sister and brother, having fled Korea after the war had ended, are still living in their home country of Japan. After living on the streets for a time, they were given a room in a factory in return for keeping it safe from robbers. They continue to live in the factory building, but then there was an accident, and Yoko’s sister was injured and hospitalized, so Yoko and her brother moved into the hospital room so they could take care of her needs for food, etc. Yoko also meets another woman in the hospital and cares for her as well.
At this time, their father has still not returned, and they were not sure if he had been killed or imprisoned when the war had ended since he, being Japanese, had been living with his family in Korea when the war had ended and were considered criminals. Now, back in Japan, Yoko puts up bulletins in town, telling her father where she is with hopes that he is still alive and will see one.
Yoko continues to be harassed by the girls in her school, especially one whose parents own a fish market where Yoko goes to find fish bones for the soup that she makes for her sister.
When the story ends, Yoko tells what had happened to her family, and talks about meeting her American husband, which may have been part of the story, and how she had to let go of her anger for the Americans that had bombed her country. ...more
Ever since reading “Mama Day” by Gloria Naylor I have been interested in the Gullah Islands off the East coast of the United States, so when my husbanEver since reading “Mama Day” by Gloria Naylor I have been interested in the Gullah Islands off the East coast of the United States, so when my husband wanted to see the East Coast, I wanted to find a Gullah Island to visit. St Helena Island was the one I chose, and I loved it there, and wrote about it in my review of “The Secret of Gumbo Grove.”
This book contains letters and journal entries of Laura Towne who taught at the Penn School on the island, a school we visited, one where they once taught the freed slaves how to farm, make clothes, shoes, etc.
The problem with letters is, if they are not explained, you end up with more questions than answers, such as the school was built around 1862 or so, or at least that is when Mary went there to teach the “free slaves.” Freed? I thought that they were not freed until 1865. That is the type of confusion I have with these letters. So, while I appreciate her letters, I wish that the author, who put this book together had foot notes. Such as this too: The blacks were paid money for the work they were doing. How much were they paid, and how far did it go? How much food and clothing could they buy? As I continued reading, I figured it out some things, and other things were finally explained in the future letters. Such as, the Yankees had taken over South Carolina, so the Blacks were freed in name only but soon kept getting their freedom papers. Then the Yankees came in and took the able bodied black men off to war.
Their African religion was called “Shouting.” What is “Shouting?” I had to ask Alexa. You get into a circle and stomp your feet and clap your hands. Do they shout? What are its beliefs?
As a result of not always understand this book, I can only remember one anecdote, such as how some military men told a black man that they would let him kill his master who had abused him for fyears, but the black man said that he did not wish him to suffer so would not kill him.
I did not finish this book because the letters began to get vague and tedious, so I quit If one is doing research they would like this book. I have another one up my sleeve though....more
What I enjoyed most about this book was the list of all the best books on women and in the wilderness, all the way from pioneer women to women of todaWhat I enjoyed most about this book was the list of all the best books on women and in the wilderness, all the way from pioneer women to women of today. She wrote about fifteen women in all. The four books that stood out for me were, “The Trees,” “Giants in the Earth, “The Way West,” and Willa Cather’s books, “My Antonia” and “O’ Pioneers.” She had even grouped them as being the best. There were others, and while I was able to purchase some, many did not come on Kindle. I also enjoyed each story of these women’s lives, even Calamity Jane’s, who was said to have had a daughter, one that she wrote letters to since she didn’t take her with her. Father unknown.
A certain section of this book bugged me though. It was about Ashley Montague, an anthropologist who studied the sexes and determined that women wwere the superior sex. Now, why did this bug me? I am tired of hearing it, although I have only heard it once before. I believe that you can’t generalize things, and that there are more exceptions to the rule than what one would think. I have no proof of this, I just know that it is true and this from my own observations. Out of all the 70 books that she digested internally, so she could put them in this book, she had to include Montague’s.
While LaBastille talked about the Native American women being used to the wilderness, and this in spite of having children, she believes that American women were afraid of the wild west because they had children. What? I never had children, and yet, I am afraid of the wild, that is, if there are bears and other wild beasties out there that eat people. Maybe you they had to be raised in the wilderness to not be afraid, and to only have respect for the beasts, and maybe a person just needs to be trained in survival skills. Give me a grenade, and I will live in the wilderness. But she rather says these things, but while she does, it feels like contradictions. She should have left Montague on the bookshelf.
I can understand women not wanting to take a wagon train out West. It wasn’t just that they didn’t want to leave their family and friends, but that was a big part of it, it was because they knew what was out there. While their husbands considered it an adventure, they knew it could mean death. It is too bad, even as LaBastille wrote, that they had no place to stay and no job, but why couldn’t they find some lonely unadventurous man in town?...more
Sometimes you can’t move forward in a book unless you know what is being talked about. In this case there were two words that camFarm Life in Scotland
Sometimes you can’t move forward in a book unless you know what is being talked about. In this case there were two words that came up for me early in the book.
Croft: A small farm, and in this case, one in Scotland. Next came the word “scullery.” It is a pantry where food is stored and cut up before taken into the kitchen. It can also be a pantry where pots and pans are washed and stored. (Not much was said about the word “scullery” outside of saying that it had a window in it.)
And now that I know what these two words mean, I can continue the book, which I considered a very relaxing read. The author and her husband had bought a croft in Scotland after moving from their townhouse in a city.
Their idea was to fix up the farm and raise animals and vegetables to sell to the markets. Now, I am all for raising animals to make money, but I could not send any to a market to be killed. I could sell their eggs, milk, cheese, and wool, but not their bodies. So, pigs are out, and they had pigs. What can a pig offer except bacon? Maybe manure. Otherwise, nothing. And what happens on my own farm when the animals get old and quit producing? They get to stay. I have no idea what would happen to the sheep when they get old, but I am sure they keep producing wool, otherwise, they would freeze to death, but they get to stay too. But this is not my farm or my story, and I have never had a working farm, only bits and pieces, like chickens and rabbits and caring for horses and shoveling up their manure, and I have had vegetable gardens. By the way, I am not a vegetarian, but I still would not send an animal off to be oft.
Steward wrote articles for magazines talking about her life on the farm, and then finally wrote this book for us to enjoy, but here I am picking it apart. Still, I loved it, but I did not like her covering their stone floors with linoleum. What was she thinking? Were they cold? Wear socks or warm insulated boots.
So, they fixed up the farm, and then they bought some cows, sheep, chickens, and I forgot what else. Oh, pigs. They planted potatoes and turnips, and I don’t know what else. Then one day the market turned bad, and they sold their animals. You see, they should have only bought animals that only produced, as everyone always needs eggs and milk. But maybe the price of those went down as well. I know, I would make a lousy farmer and would have to be wealthy to begin with so I could make it work.
Well, don’t let my review mess up this story for you as I really enjoyed it in spite of myself....more
I don’t know anything about the author Song-Gee-Hongs, but I thought that I read that he was Korean. I would like to leaA Little Book with a Big Heart
I don’t know anything about the author Song-Gee-Hongs, but I thought that I read that he was Korean. I would like to learn more about him, so if he sees this review, I hope he enlarges upon his personal information on Godreads and Amazon. It is just that I found this little book of his impressive. Now, it is a light read, simply written, but it leaves you with a warm feeling, that of the goodness of mankind. It is also based on a true story.
Manfred the Milkman is about a family whose husband lost his job and can’t pay the milkman, so he tells him that he wants to stop his delivering milk. Manfred insists that he continue to deliver milk to his house and just trusts that all will be well.
Aw, the days when the milkman left milk at our doorstep, and the breadman came around as well, and then there was the ice cream man. At lfeast we still have ice cream men playing music as they drive around neighborhoods. I know this because we have one.
My grandmother had bread delivers, well, bread and sweet rolls. I know that she had a milkman, but it is the sweet rolls that I recall best, as well as her homemade cookies.
I plan to read more of this author’s free books, and if I had great-grand-children, I would read them to them.
I love non-fiction growing up stories, especially those that take place in the Appalachian Mountains. Flem, thOr, How to Destroy a Land and Its People
I love non-fiction growing up stories, especially those that take place in the Appalachian Mountains. Flem, the author of this book, had a wonderful childhood. I wanted his early life because I know it had to be fun for kids. Still, my childhood was interesting and fun, at least to me. Then he grew up early in the book. Bummer.
He talked about two authors that romanticized mountain life in their books. One was James Lane Allen, the other, John Fox. Perhaps life there was not to be romanticized, but I loved one of Fox’s books and read other books by various authors. Now I have some of Allen’s books to read. But Flem’s growing up story was short in the growing up. I think only one forth of the book dealt with his childhood, but at least it was fun reading. I could have stopped there, but I wished to learn about his life after leaving the mountains, which was rather boring, but informative.
He made some comments that interested me. Life before electricity was, in my opinion, a better life. The mountain people never considered themselves to be poor before they had electricity. Now they had to pay an electric bill as well as make payments on refrigerators, stoves, and washing machines. For this, they had to find work, so the men had to leave the mountains to get it. This broke up families, as the women and children stayed in the mountains, and I doubt if the pay was enough to keep them out of poverty. Before electricity, they had a barter system, and neighbors would help each other built houses, make repairs, etc. They never needed much money. I am not sure what role the coal mines played in all this, but they sucked the life out of the men and the mountains.
When Flem grew up, he tried to get a job in town, but he learned that he needed a high school education. 4th grade would not make it. There was a college that helped young men, and maybe women, who had lived in the mountains. He learned that he could get on their work program to pay his way. He loved it. Then he got a job in the poverty program that our government had set up in the 60s. This job lasted him throughout the 70s. His work is to be admired, and I admired him because of his love of the people and for his desire to help them out of poverty. I would have rather that they returned to the old ways, but once you have electricity, well, you can’t easily go back. We all love our gadgets. But this is just me romanticizing the old ways....more
The black man slaved in your fields to put food on your table, but he was not allowed in your restaurants.
The black woman raised your children, even held The black man slaved in your fields to put food on your table, but he was not allowed in your restaurants.
The black woman raised your children, even held them on her lap, but once that child was grown, he would not allow her to even sit next to him on a bus.
You taught the black man to love your white God, to worship and to pray to him, but then he was not allowed to step foot in your churches.
And if he breaks any of these rules Your hate for him will cause you to beat and kill him.
Is it that the white man hates who he had enslaved? Or does he truly just hate himself for what he has done, and then takes that hate out on the black man? But maybe it is neither. Maybe he is just filled with hate.
I had never heard about the Freedom Riders. When young college men and women, black and white, even professors, ministers boarded Greyhound buses headed for the southern states to try to get rid of the Jim Crow laws, I was finishing high school. It was 1961. No one talked about it, not even abut the four men, who a year before, had a |sit-in” at Woolworth’s in Greensboro, North Caroling. They had sat there for four hours. I do not even have the full story on that powerful moment. I just know that the photo taken of their backs had become famous.
I missed knowing so much during the apolitical period of my life. So, this book was all new to me. It was rough going. At one point during the beatings that the Freedom Riders were enduring, I put the book down and began listening to Keith Whitley sing his songs. When one of his songs came on, one I had never heard before; “Birmingham Turn Around,” I thought it ironic that he was singing about leaving Birmingham on a plane for New Orleans because he wanted to get away from a woman that he loved. Ironic, because I had just finished reading the part in the book where the Freedom Riders needed to get out of Birmingham before they were killed, and the plan was to take a plan to New Orleans.
I went back to the book, but I have to say this: the book is full of horrors as well as being tedious at times. Although, I am no longer apolitical, I still find it hard to read political books. I just base my politics on what is right, and Civil Rights is what is right, as is all human rights....more
After Anne went through a divorce, she decided to fulfill her dream of living in a log cabin in the wilderness. So, she boughtFascinating True Story.
After Anne went through a divorce, she decided to fulfill her dream of living in a log cabin in the wilderness. So, she bought 2 acres of land in the Adirondack Mountains and built herself a log cabin mostly by herself, except for the heavier work.
While I thought her to be gutsy, it wasn’t easy for her to live alone. There was no phone service back then in the 60s. How can a woman live without a phone? Then the nearest neighbor was five miles away, and to get to any kind of civilization, she had to take her canoe across the lake to where she had parked her truck, and if I recall correctly, there was a store nearby.
When late fall arrived, the lake would begin to form ice and was dangerous to try to cross by canoe, much less by foot. She helped one of her neighbors move during this time, taking three trips by canoe to move all her belongings. Each time the ice was becoming more treacherous, and she was afraid that she could not break through the ice and imagined herself stuck on the lake, not even being able to walk across it.
While I have always thought that it would be nice to live in a log cabin in the wilderness, her adventure would not have been my own. I would want my husband with me, a dog, and some closer neighbors. Phone service would greatly help, as would a GPS with locator so I could summon help. At least she finally got a dog and a shortwave radio. She also bought a Merck manual and medical books just in case.
Later, she met a man who came to live with her. I didn’t like him, but maybe it was her lack of total enthusiasm in him that came through in her writing. Still, when he took her and her German shepherd for a walk along the railroad tracks that were no longer in use, I didn't like how he insisted that they cross over an area that was dangerous. It could have been over a river. Her boyfriend had to carry the dog across, and one wrong step, and any one of them could fall and be killed. She was very hesitant about doing this, and my own belief was this: If a man really loves you, he is not going to risk your life or your dog’s.
The book didn’t always take place at her cabin, as you saw. She went on camping trips, mostly by herself, and later with her dog, and then with her new boyfriend. Then she and her dog went to Washington D.C. for 8 months since she was on an assignment. She hated the city and compared it often with her home in the woods. What she hated was the noise, the crime, and the pollution. Even I could not wait for her to return to the mountains....more
A woman loved her husband more than life itself, but because he had been to Chernobyl to help in the cleanup, and that, withChernobyl. 1986. Aftermath
A woman loved her husband more than life itself, but because he had been to Chernobyl to help in the cleanup, and that, without any protective gear, she watched him slowly die, and in the end his once “beautiful face” became distorted like that of a monster. She kissed his body all over, just as she had always done. She may have cried as she told her story of their life, their love, that is, if she had any tears left to cry.
The men and women mostly all cried, when telling their own stories. Even I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears but felt them in my chest. The story above was the hardest to read. Every story was had its own sorrows and was beautifully written. The narrator spoke in such a way that the stories were mesmerizing, painfully so. I could not put the book down even though I wanted it all to stop. I just needed to know, but I do not know why. And in the end, their tears became myown.
Some people were moved out after the power plant blew up; some stayed. Some of the land was buried, as if that would help. They were supposed to bury the homes, trees, and the animals that they killed, and they did bury them, but they were not to be buried where they found water. They did not listen, nor did they understand the seriousness of it.
Some of the radiated food was fed to the Russian people in other towns: the meat, the milk and cheese, the vegetables and fruit, and other radiated food stuffs. While at other times they went into the villages and shot every cat, dog, chicken, horse, and cow that they could find and buried them all. A man spoke of witnessing these things, how he had watched a black poodle that had been shot, crawl back out of the trench, but they were out of bullets, so they threw him back in and covered him with dirt. The man could not get this out of his head, and never will, just as I will never get it out of my head that the Germans had done the same to the Jews, and how one man had crawled out of a trench and got away. What you read can stick with you for a lifetime.
Another woman stayed in her home in Chernobyl with her cat, but her cat soon disappeared. She fed her neighbor’s dogs and cats, as if their owners would be coming home. She would have anyway. The dogs waited in their yards for the same reason. Then the woman watched them die, one by one. The birds fell dead out of the sky, their bodies lay scattered on the ground. All life under and above ground had soon died as well.
The government sent men in to clean up, but they had no protective gear. They soon died, but maybe it took a few years. How could a country turn its back on its people, not care for them? Well, I am watching it now in America as our leader has turned his back on the people who have contacted or will contact the Corona virus. He even tries to hide the facts, all in the name of power and greed. Russia had done the same. Life means so little to them unless it is their own....more
He Talked A Lot About Harlem, and It5 Wasn’t Always Good
Eddy spent his childhood years in Harlem and decided to go back to live there, at least for a He Talked A Lot About Harlem, and It5 Wasn’t Always Good
Eddy spent his childhood years in Harlem and decided to go back to live there, at least for a year. He lasted two years, long enough to write about it. Maybe, he stayed too long. He wasn’t in Harlem in its heydays, not unless he was a child, a child who couldn’t remember what it was like when it was glamorous, when it was a haven for blacks, a reprieve from white Americans. His father must have seen it then, because when he came back to his old neighborhood, he stood there and wept. Such are the times in America, seen over and. Over. Decay almost everywhere.
He moved back to Harlem in the 1990s; this book was published in 1997. He tells us what it had meant to those who lived there in its beginnings, and what it is like now. It was the place to be years before his return. Now it was the place to leave, but people stayed, because there was no other place to go when you are too poor to walk away.
Over the years I thought about Harlem, how I wish that I had seen in it in its glamourous years. My sister thought the same, and when she and her daughter went to New York, they took a bus tour to see Harlem. She doesn’t remember the tour, it was nothing. You can’t see Harlem from a bus seat. You can’t see Harlem if you are white like us. You can’t even see it if you are black and just visiting. You need to experience it, and the time to have experienced it is gone.
While living in Berkeley in the 70s, I saw Telegraph Avenue. I experienced it. My friends took me to Haight-Asbury in San Francisco, and we drove its streets. I still wish that I had seen it, but I would have had to have taken the bus there often to spend the day. Still, my own experience would not have been the same as those that had lived it. I was not into living this Hippie dream.
In the 90s, Harlem was no longer Harlem, nor even for the blacks. It was no longer glamourous. Some black cities, even white ones, die from neglect, from crime and poverty. Some black towns died at the hands of the white people, like Tulsa’s Greenwood District that had died in the 20s when the white men burned it down, killing at least 300 blacks, men, women, and children. I can’t help but feel that the white man had a lot to do with Harlem’s demise, too. I blame it on our white, racist government for keeping wages low and jobs few, and for not caring about the black child’s education. The drugs just came to ease the pain; instead they brought hell.
Eddy found a cruddy apartment to rent. Better than most. He did what he had to do to fit in. Put his good clothes in the closet and hoped that the mice didn’t ruin them. He listened to his neighbor’s fight, watched men on the streets beat their women, sell drugs, get into fights with each other and even kill. It is a wonder he lasted as long as he had.
Eddy is a great writer. He is spell binding. But I wanted the glamour. And now, Harlem is being rebuilt, “gentrified.” I ask, is this a good thing? Well, yes, but only if the blacks can afford it. I have my doubts for I have heard of this before, this word, “gentrification,” which really means that a town is now too upscale for the poor to afford. In Tulsa, they did it differently. After burning the Greenwood District down, they eventually tore what was left down, put in a college and a bypass. They are fixing to put in another bypass through another black town just east of Muskogee.
When I was a child we used to go to Fresno, CA for Christmas shop in its big city. Big to me. And then we would drive down Santa Clause Lane. In the mid-90s, my husband and I moved there for work. The downtown was dead, the upscale shops had moved to a mall, and now we only saw stores that sold flea market items, not antiques. Santa Clause Lane was still there in its rich neighborhoods. Our neighbor took me to see a neighborhood that used to be nice, that was before the drugs and the gangs came in and took it over. It looked like it had been bombed, just as Eddy described parts of Harlem. I hated every minute of Fresno. Eddy now hated Harlem, or so it seemed. When my husband’s job ended, we took to the road and headed for Texas but ended up in Mississippi. The last night in Fresno, we had a drive-by shooting. The neighbor kids excitedly showed me bullet shells in the street right near our house. I was glad that we had slept that night on a mattress that was on the floor. We picked up that mat mattress and put it in our gutted-out trailer, waved goodbye to our good neighbors who had gathered on the sidewalks, and left. Eddy had done the same. ...more
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