Have you ever spoken to someone and after a lengthy conversation felt that what you had heard…did not really represent the person that you were communicating with?

Often, it seems, we are attempting to present a facsimile of ourself to those that we meet.  This could be for a variety of reasons, including;

1. We want to fit in with or be a part of a group.
2. We want to comport with the norms of a professional position.
3. We are trying to mimic, or ape, a person that we wish that we were.
4. We do not want to express an opinion that varies from our employer or church leader.
5. We are insecure in our own skin.

I have said, many times, that I enjoy talking with an authentic person.

Authenticity, brings surprise and questions and, sometimes, shock.

Sadly, often, people commit suicide…and the most common remark made about them is…they seemed so happy.

There can be few things worse…than trying to portray yourself as someone that you are not.

Candid views and emotions and beliefs…are refreshing and they are original…because they are yours.

We all want to be liked and accepted and a member of the larger group…but these feelings should not be at the expense of our true identity.

The key to racial understanding is for white Americans and African Americans to get to know each other.

A true and meaningful dialogue will have to include the candid airing of prejudices and bias…and the re-building of our opinions and understanding that is based on real and heartfelt conversation and fellowship with each other.

It is easy to disparage and criticize those who you do not know…it is not so easy to do so…when you have broken bread with them and understood their shared journey with you…on the road of life.

Candid conversation…can hurt.

Honest feelings…are often…raw.

At times our best efforts at reaching out to another that seems a loner or marginalized or sad or homeless…can be rebuffed and misunderstood.

We must continue to try.

There is no other solution for our sad, divided, and lonely…human family.

Be who you are…if no one agrees with you…wave your flag proudly!

If you see a wrong committed…do not be afraid to speak out…if no one stands beside you.

I attended church this morning.  I am proud of that assertion…because I do not attend as often as I should.

Early in the service…we have a segment that is called…passing the peace…where you shake hands with your fellow congregants…and wish them…peace.

As I shook, one young man’s hand, who I had spoke to earlier in the restroom…before the 9:30 am service began…he asked me…’If I had washed my hands after I had done my business?’

I responded that all that I had done was combed my hair…in the restroom….as I assumed that he was referring to our earlier encounter.

He repeated, emphatically, ‘did you wash your hands after you did your business?’

I responded that I had.  He said, thank you.

I pondered this question…for sometime…today.

What is wrong with honesty and honest questions?

So often, we hide our real questions and motives behind a hidden agenda…or as The Catcher In The Rye’s primary character, Holden Caulfield,  would say, we are phonies.

This fine young man, had an honest question…and sought an honest answer.

How often do we say one thing…and mean another?

How often, do we have a pre-conceived idea and construct and culminating decision regarding our fellow human beings…and that ‘concrete form’ that we have constructed…is the last word and idea and opinion…on another human that is traveling the same road that we are traveling…and eating the same dust from the trail…and feeling the same pain…that we are experiencing?

I just wrote a blog post about Race…and The Simplicity of Understanding.  I think that, understanding, begins and ends…with honesty.

If we seek to understand others…we must be honest with our questions…and patient with our listening.

Listening, is an art.

Have you ever noticed that often when you are speaking to another person..that they are looking at you…and seem attentive…but that if you would inquire as to what you had just said…they would be a blank.

So often, when another is speaking, we are thinking about what we are going to say next.

Much is the same, when it comes to understanding the racial divide.

If we enter the discussion…feeling that we already have all of the answers…or if we are unwilling to consider ideas…that are somewhat foreign to us….we have lost the value of the dialogue…before it begins.

At the same time….expect…questions that are candid and hurtful and painful and much like tearing a bandage off of a gaping wound…if healing…is to result from the discourse.

‘Did you wash your hands…after you did your business?’

I just read one of the best articles regarding white privilege.  The article is written by Lori Lakin Hutcherson and is entitled; My White Friend Asked Me on Facebook to Explain White Privilege.  I Decided to Be Honest.  The article is in yesmagazine.org.

‘Wouldn’t you love to see one of these NFL owners, when somebody disrespects our flag, to say, ‘Get that son of a bitch off the field right now.  He is fired.  He’s fired!’  Trump said to considerable applause from the overwhelming white crowd.  Total disrespect of our heritage, a total disrespect of everything that we stand for.  Everything that we stand for.’

‘Then, on Saturday morning, Trump tweeted this about Curry: ‘ Going to the White House is considered a great honor for a championship team.  Stephen Curry is hesitating, therefore invitation is withdrawn!’   CNN

When I began at Southern Illinois University, almost 40 years ago, my first foreman was an African American.

Jim, treated me…much as a father would treat a son.  In fact, Jim instructed a crew boss, that had verbally assaulted me the night before, that I was his son but that I just would not call him daddy.  The white crew boss…got the picture and apologized.

Jim, was African American…and he smoked the most aromatic cigars…I think that is why I enjoy cigars today…because of my mentor and friend…Jim.

I grew up in virtually an all white town and attended school without the fellowship of African Americans.

The first church that I attended, beginning at the age of 12, had one African American woman in it…and she was a loving and caring person.

At SIU, I quickly learned that African Americans were people of…compassion and education and skill and high standards of living and family and morality and that they were dedicated friends.

Every African American…that considered me their friend…honored me…and I was humbled by their love.

One of the primary elements to consider…is that we are all just people…we are members of the human family…and we all are seeking the same primary things from life.

We seek fairness of opportunity.

We want our children to succeed and thrive.

We all want to be recognized for our accomplishments….on an even playing field.

No one wants to apologize for their race…but rather….we want to be recognized for our membership in the human family.

I would ask christian groups…that are biased or that believe that the white race is superior…do you think that Jesus…was an Anglo Saxon?

One of the first lessons that I learned…is to treat all that I encounter…the same.

My friend, Peter, was Dean of the Law School, when I was working at SIU.  He treated me as his equal…and I was very touched…as I was a member of the Housekeeping Department.  Peter is African American.

Jewel, was my counselor and friend.  She was the first person that I upgraded to foreman when I became Superintendent of Building Services.   Her wisdom…upheld me and strengthened me…Jewel was African American.

Alfie, was a student employee that worked in my office during the latter part of my career.  Alfie, was the consummate gentleman…and talented…and Muslim…and he was my friend.

I told Alfie, that he was my son…he just would not call me Daddy.  He responded that he would call me Daddy…and to this day…he greets me warmly when I see him…and his Mother…hugs me each time we meet.

I think, that we must all lay aside our taught prejudices…and our learned biases…and see each other as equal members of the human family….created by the same God.

Christian, was a member of my student custodial staff…in my early years at SIU.  He told me that international students loved working with me…because that I had no prejudice.  I have never received a greater compliment…and I have humbly worked to fulfill Christian’s kind words…from then…until now.  Christian was from Ghana, Africa.

One thing that I have observed, when attempting to bridge the racial divide….it is not easy….and sincere efforts, at times, do not yield the results that you are striving for.

This is life!

The best of intentions can be misunderstood…or refused…or not appreciated.

That does not mean to stop trying and working and praying for success and understanding…it simply means that the healing of the hurts of prejudice and bias and learned hatred…are difficult…but not impossible…to overcome.

Many years ago, we were discussing our strategy to convince the University Administration…to give the faculty and staff a holiday recognizing Veterans Day.  We felt, strongly, that our precious Veterans should be recognized by a University closure…when November 11, occurred during the work week.

Discussion continued, around the Council Table, regarding Dr. Martin Luther King’s Birthday.

A white member of the Civil Service Council, spoke up, and said that she thought that we should focus on the 4th of July…instead of Dr. King’s Birthday.

An African American Council member, responded, that the 4th of July was not her Independence Day.

This statement, did not sound strange to me, as African Americans came to America…as slaves.

African Americans, for many years, were recognized by their government, as three fifths of a human being.

Today, we see voter suppression laws…being adopted in several states…with the express intent of preventing African Americans…the right to vote.

Over compensation…is not the answer…under compensation….is not the answer…unfettered conversation between African Americans and white Americans…that is often hard and hurtful…and revealing…is the first step…to the simplicity of understanding.

I, along with some of my church friends, rented a little house from Brozy Claybrook, in Elkville, Illinois, shortly after I graduated from High School in 1975.

Brozy, was a dignified man…and his wife was a retired school teacher.  The Claybrook’s home was beautiful…and they treated we…young….uneducated…white boys…with compassion and dignity and respect…that was beyond our years.

If I can be the gentleman…that Mr. Claybrook was…I will be a success.

Mr and Mrs. Claybrook…were African Americans.

UNITED STATES – SEPTEMBER 11: The World Trade Center was destroyed by two planes containing hijackers. Firefighter Kevin Shea of Ladder 35 lies semi conscious in debris field with Firefighter Ritchie Nogan of 113 standing over him. Shea was the only survivor of his unit. He was carried out by Nogan, two EMS workers and photographer Todd Maisel. (Photo by Todd Maisel/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images)

UNITED STATES – SEPTEMBER 11: People seek refuge inside a bank building after the first tower of the World Trade Center collapsed. (Photo by Corey Sipkin/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images)

New York, UNITED STATES: TO GO WITH AFP STORY “Americans mark 9/11 anniversary with new questions on vulnerability” – This 11 September 2001 file photo shows Marcy Borders covered in dust as she takes refuge in an office building after one of the World Trade Center towers collapsed in New York. Borders was caught outside on the street as the cloud of smoke and dust enveloped the area. The woman was caught outside on the street as the cloud of smoke and dust enveloped the area. AFP PHOTO/Stan HONDA (Photo credit should read STAN HONDA/AFP/Getty Images)

‘In a column emailed to faculty and staff, SIU President Randy Dunn said universities should be ‘guardians of free speech’ in a time when the country is politically divided and debates rage on over whether inflammatory or polarizing speakers be allowed to give talks on campuses.’   Daily Egyptian

”The best antidote for speech we don’t like, even speech we think is abhorrent, is more speech, not less,’ Dunn said.  ‘Let more voices be heard,’   Daily Egyptian

Indeed, Universities should be guardians of free speech.

Often, we feel compelled to protect and advocate, speech that we agree with.  However, the radical and treasonous speech that our country was founded upon…was not appreciated or protected by England…who we were seeking separation from.

‘On March 23, 1775, Patrick Henry sounded one of the most famous calls to arms in American history.  During a meeting of the Second Virginia Convention at St. John’s Church in Richmond, the 38-year-old-lawyer and politician gave an impassioned plea urging the Old Dominion to form militias to defend itself against the British.  Henry’s brief address-which closed with the incendiary line ‘Give me liberty or give me death!’-swayed the convention in his favor, and his words became a rallying cry during the march to war that was soon to begin.’   History Stories

I have been watching, for the past three nights, Ken Burn’s documentary entitled Vietnam.  It is, as is all of Mr. Burn’s work, fascinating.

I was a youngster and a teenager during the war in Vietnam.  I watched Walter Cronkite and the CBS Evening News, nightly, show how many Americans had been killed that day…and how many Vietnamese.

I saw the protestors…stating that we should withdraw from Vietnam…I thought that I was going to be drafted…but…the draft was ended shortly before I became of age to register.

Hindsight is 20/20…it turns out… the protestors were correct….fifty thousand Americans died in Vietnam.

Today, we have more need for free speech…perhaps than ever in our history.  There is a great pull and division and a tearing of society between rich and poor and black and white and conservative and liberal….and a struggle for freedom of speech and voice…for those who have no…voice.

Ruth Pommier, was my colleague and friend…during my SIU career.  Ruth spoke for many, in the Civil Service Community, that had not advocate…nor voice.

When Chancellor Argersinger was terminated…I spoke on her behalf…and was told to be silent…by leaders at the top of the University hierarchy.

I refused to be silent…or to deny Mary Jane and my friendship with her and Peter…or to hide…at rally’s that were staged on her behalf.

For a period of, at least, two years, I feared termination…for my simple exercise of my right of free speech.

So, I am now… and always have been…a believer in free speech…and I commend President Dunn for his advocacy of this basic human right.

A ‘Brooks Tale’

‘Come in for supper’, mom called as she pushed open the screen door.

I was not ready for supper.

I had been riding my three speed bicycle…all over town, and I felt like I was the mayor.

My three speed and me…had it all worked out.  We went where we wanted to…and did not come back until we darn well pleased.

Although, we lived in the country and it was about a mile’s ride into town…I never got weary of the thrill of the open road.

At times, I would stop and chat with my friend Steve, who lived just on the outskirts of town, and we would commiserate about; school and sports and girls and country life.

I loved to stop at Carters and Choissers Drug Store for a nickel root beer.  It came in a giant frosty mug and it had a foamy head on it that made a great root beer mustache.

Often I would take in a movie at the Orpheum Theatre…they all knew me there…I was a regular patron.

Movies cost thirty five cents…and you could stay all day and re-watch the film as many times as you desired.

Mom would give me a dollar, and I had money for a coke and popcorn and sometimes a candy bar.  It was heavenly.

Sometimes, my buddy, Dennis, would come along…and afterwards we would ride over to the Dairy Queen and purchase a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and two bags of barbecued potato chips.

We, then, rode our bicycles down the railroad tracks…and smoked…and coughed…and smoked some more…until the twenty Marlboro’s were gone.

Then, we ate the barbecued chips…to mask the odor of the cigarettes…we were not of age to smoke…but it did not seem to matter much to the Dairy Queen proprietor.

Once, the old man, that usually waited on me at the Dairy Queen, told me that I did not hardly look old enough to smoke Marlboros.

I responded that they were for my Dad…and that I would just have to go back and tell him that the Dairy Queen would not sell him any smokes.

The old man said, ‘Oh forget it buddy…I was just teasing you,’ and I paid the money and received the counter band…and the barbecued chips.

Earlier that day, Jim had pulled up to the Orpheum in his convertible.  He was wearing a cowboy hat and cowboy boots and he parked his big ragtop and staggered in to the theatre.

The owner of the Orpheum, who was always there…along with his wife…who sold the tickets, stopped Jim…just as he entered, and told him, firmly, that he would have to leave because he was drunk.

Jim protested the eviction and struggled some…but the owner, who was much older than Jim, removed the intoxicated interloper…with ease.

The Orpheum, had a room that was upstairs, called the Crying Room.  I believe that this was the room that the film projector was in?  I considered the Crying Room to be a profound mystery of the Theatre.

Mom extolled, hurry up Jay and get in the house…it is almost dark…and I do not like those horrible lights coming from the sky.

Dad responded, as he sauntered in from the garage, which was his home away from home, that it is probably more explosions.

I could plainly see Phobos and Deimos…in the sky…and the air had become chilly…as we watched the explosions…from Earth.

I heard a good friend of mine, say once, that the recruitment problems at SIU could be solved if we became effective at telling SIU’s Story.

It seems that we humans…love a good story.

When I was in grade school I was told that the United States was founded by the pilgrims and puritans and people that were fleeing England for religious freedom.

The story went on, that our country was founded on being a refuge for people that were fleeing oppression.

Also, that the first Thanksgiving was spent with the pilgrims and indians having turkey dinner together.

Now, when I talk of story…I am not implying that the narrative is a false account…but it could be?

I am fascinated with the Christmas Season.  I thoroughly enjoy Santa Claus and his once a year trip to visit all of the children in the world…to bring them gifts….that he has on his flying sleigh…that is pulled by eight tiny reindeer…with Rudolf  leading the entourage.

There is the baby Jesus…in the manger…in December…and the wisemen bringing gifts of gold and frankincense and muir…to the Christ child.

And, then, there is the glorious Christmas Tree…which probably originated in Germany…with its’ resplendent decorations and brightly colored gifts under it.

The Story of Christ and his birth and life and ministry and resurrection…has inspired me since I was a child.

‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’   Hebrews 11:1   KJV

The Story of our belief in freedom from tyranny has caused us to fight in two World Wars.

Have you ever been to Oxford University?  This is a School…that has such a rich reputation…a magnificent story.

Students come from all over the world to attend Oxford.  It is the University of; C.S. Lewis and Margaret Thatcher, as well as Bill Clinton and Stephen Hawking.

Don’t you just love a good mystery?

When you watch a great movie…what set it apart?

I remember when our dear President, John Kennedy, was tragically shot and killed in front of Dealy Plaza in Dallas, Texas.

There are still a multitude of conspiracy theories, today, surrounding JFK’s murder.

The Bible…is the guidebook to millions of faithful christians.  Also, Jews rely on the Old Testament for direction in their faith.

Some read the Bible…and see a compassionate God of forgiveness and love.

Others see a God of wrath.

Others see a God of elite exclusivity and the subsequent ignoring of millions of the human family.

What is this girl’s story?

‘Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.’   Hebrews 11:3   KJV

And, so…the beginning of…the Story of Man.

I think that I may have said, previously, that Fall is my favorite time of the year.  I am sitting on our screened in porch…and looking at the leaves…that are already changing.

I have always felt a renewal in the season that brings; my birthday and halloween and Thanksgiving and, my favorite, Christmas.

Photos of Autumn, inspire me.  The thought of hot chocolate and sweaters and crisp morning air…is my preferred element.

I started working at Southern Illinois University in the Fall.  I could not believe my good fortune.  I recall everyone welcoming me and making me feel at home.

I recall walking from my building, Thalman Hall, to my supervisor’s building, and thinking that Mary Jane and my life had taken a profound turn for the better.

Three weeks after my hiring, on October 10, 1978, we purchased our first new automobile.  It was a Ford LTD and it listed for $7,000.00, but the dealer, Dennis Ratjen, reduced the price to $6,000.00.

I felt like, that I was driving a Lincoln Continental!

Before I married, Mary Jane, I had experienced what it means to be hungry.  I was to proud to admit it to others…who probably would have helped me.

When we married…I was 169 lb..

I am six foot and three and  one half inches tall…and I looked like a skeleton.

SIU changed that forever…and there is no mystery…why I love the University!

I often wonder if current leaders…understand….why I am so passionate for SIU?

It is because everything positive in my life…has come from my association with this wonderful School.

I saw my old and dear friends yesterday.

Things have changed…and it always makes me sad.

I cared for this couple…and I still do…and I wish that our friendship had not dissolved.

When I see them…which is not often…the last time was a couple of years ago…I think of all of the wonderful and communal times that we spent together…and the singularity of purpose that we had.

The loss of these friends…was first…a shocking loss for SIU…and then…years later for me.

Christmas…since Laughing Santa…has been a magical time for me.

I enter a reality of people caring about each other and joy and happiness and faith…that renews me for the new year.

Christ’s humble birth in a manger and his vision for the family of man…and his compassion for the poor and the homeless and those who have no voice…inspires me daily…and especially during the Christmas Season.

When Mary Jane and Aaron and Jonathon and I became Presbyterians…I think that a lot of the allure of the faith came from…the excellent manner in which the church treated Christmas.

You know, faith is not emotion…it may touch your emotions…but the practicing of faith and the daily living of it…is a concrete decision…to wake up each morning…no matter how badly you feel…no matter how unemotional your are…and conscientiously decided to be a christian.

A short fiction story or a ‘Brooks Tale.’

‘John, what do you really think that the christian life is all about,’ I asked my friend and Pastor.

‘Well, Brother Jay, I believe that it is focused on how we treat our fellow man…and not on specific works or good deeds that we attempt to accrue,’ John said.

I lazily cast my fishing line into the Little Pigeon River at Gatlinburg…and thought about what my friend had said.

John spoke of the profound suffering in our country and across the world.  He spoke of the millions of hungry people…when there is enough food to feed everyone if it were distributed properly.

John, quoted the scripture, in the book of James 2:18, that said, ‘Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works.’

I responded that scripture seemed to support ‘works’ as a primary facilitator to heaven.

John asked me if I wanted some more coffee from his thermos?

I said that I sure did and inquired what kind of coffee it was?

‘Just good old Maxwell House,’ he replied.

I ruminated that the coffee must taste special, as I was with my friend.

John asked me what I thought of the current President and Administration?

‘Republican or Democrat…means little to me…I am always searching for a politician or leader that cares about the human family…and not just their limited political base,’ I said.

John, suddenly, pulled in a large trout…and was he excited!

I have visited the Little Pigeon River, in Gatlinburg, more times than I can count, but today seemed extraordinary…for some reason.  The movement of the beautiful water and the sound that it makes and the peaceful feeling of nature, in the Smoky Mountains, has a magical effect on me.

John said, ‘You know, Jay, this is all coming to a point…someday?’

‘I hope not before lunch,’ I responded.

‘You know, actually, we are all living in God’s Watch or Clock,’ John said.

‘When I was a child…I was often told that there is a reason for everything…and indeed we are all part of a master plan,’ John went on to say.

I retorted, ‘would it be alright if I had one more cup of that delicious Maxwell House coffee…before the end?’

John laughed and said, ‘all of us must fulfill our purpose in life and then…we move on to the next level.’

I recalled the popular television show, Lost, and a scene where a cast member had returned, to great jubilation…only to die…shortly after she had completed her purpose.

I thought…how young and healthy John looked…I had never seen him look better.

I wondered if I could move to Gatlinburg and visit the Little Pigeon River…every day?  I do not remember anywhere that I have been happier.

‘Next level…you say,  John…what does that even mean,’ I asked?

John replied, ‘have you ever noticed that this life…seems to be missing something?’

‘Have you ever felt that you were a player in a story…that had the plot…hidden, he asked?

I sipped my Maxwell House…as a Park Ranger approached.

‘The Park is closing my friend…if you do not mind please gather your gear,’ the Ranger said.

I mentioned that I must alert my friend…to which the Ranger quizzically asked, ‘what friend?’

When I looked up from my tackle box…John was gone.

I remembered….then….that John….passed away….a number of years ago.

I have been reflecting on several great friends that I have had in my life.

Steve and I were born on the same day…five years apart.  He and I, along with some other young men that attended our church, shared a house for about one year.

Steve is just a great guy.  Nine months after I began at SIU Building Services…Steve was hired there as well.

At one time, Steve and I, were to poor to pay attention.

A had a terrible automobile accident, in the village of Elkville, many years ago.  Within minutes…there was Steve…at the scene…to ensure that I was alright and provide moral support.

Jeff, is another great and lifelong friend.

I met Jeff about the time that I met Steve…in the early 1970’s.  Jeff was a hippie and lived in a hippie commune that was off of the Elkville blacktop.  When I first saw him…I mistook him for a girl.

Jeff had been homeless on the streets of Chicago…which is where I was born.

Jeff is Jewish…and ever since I first met him…I have been fascinated by the Jewish people.

Although, we were separated for several years…we have renewed our friendship and travelled to Europe to visit them on numerous occasions.

When I entered the doors of first grade…at Hillcrest School…in Eldorado, Illinois…I noticed a chap that had thick glasses and always forgot to take off his cap.  The teacher would say to him, ‘Jackie, let’s not wear our hat in the house,’ and he would subsequently walk to the cloak room, yes that is what we called it in those days, and deposit his hat.

I soon found out that Jackie and I had the same last name…and a friendship was born.

I lost track of Jackie years ago…who at the time was preparing to move to the same area that I did…to pursue an education at SIU…with a major in Accounting.

I was the civil service representative on the chancellor search committee that brought Dr. Jo Ann Argersinger to the Carbondale Campus as chancellor.

When I first met Dr. Argersinger…I felt as if we had met previously…deja vu.

After ‘Jo Ann,’ which she insisted that everyone call her, was chosen as the Carbondale Chancellor…but before she took office…she called me to see ask that I facilitate the storage of her books on the Campus…until she arrived.

Chancellor Argersinger asked my opinion on a multitude of University issues and indicated that she wanted to advance me to a higher position to assist her with the physical needs of the Campus.  I told her that I did not seek a higher job title but that I would be honored to assist her, behind the scenes, where I could.

Jo Ann and her wonderful husband Peter…became our dear friends…after her untimely termination.

I hired Elizabeth…when she was younger that I even realized.  She was such an efficient assistant to me and her husband Ryan…was an extraordinary person.

My Director, Phil Gatton, asked me repeatedly if I would consent to a retirement reception…to which I told him that I preferred to sneak out…just like I snuck in.

Phil, then told me…that Elizabeth would be disappointed if I did not consent to a retirement reception.  I knew then…that Elizabeth was my friend.

Bill V., was a constant sounding-board for me…during my years as Superintendent of Building Services.  His support was unfailing…and he and I thought a lot alike.

We traveled together, many times, and had a lot of fun and interesting conversations.

Gary, started with me when I was a crew supervisor, a Building Custodian, and he was unfailingly loyal to me…and a great friend.

Gary, took care of numerous operational needs in our department and I relied on him heavily.

Jewel, was my counselor.  I consider her one of the wisest people that it has ever been my privilege to know.

Joan, was inspirational!  She treated me like a king…and was the hardest worker that I have ever known.

Jody, was a sweet kind woman who always had my back…and I loved her for it.

Bill W., was a brilliant person…with so many life experiences, I admired him and I am honored to call him my friend.

Gerald, and I came into the office duties the same day.  He as the Training Officer and I as a foreman.  When I became Assistant Superintendent…he took my place as foreman.  He was such a hard worker and and dedicated to me and our vision of cleanliness for the Carbondale Campus.

My dear Brother in law, Ron, is my friend.  I am never with him…that I do not feel better for the experience!

My long lost brother, Brock, is my friend.  It is as if we have grown up together…although we met just a little over a year ago.

This is not the entire list…but these people come to mind as ‘True Blue’ friends and I think of each of them…often.

‘The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it.’   Hubert H. Humphrey

”Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.’   Euripides

‘One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood.’   Lucas Annaeus Seneca

‘The Saluki, also known as a Persian Greyhound, is a dog originally bred in the Fertile Crescent.  The Saluki is classed as a sighthound and is typically deep-chested and long-legged.’   Wikipedia

The Saluki is the official mascot for Southern Illinois University at Carbondale.

‘They can run 43 miles per hour.  Their temperament is: Intelligent, Reserved, Aloof, and Quiet.’   Wikipedia

‘Mascot. SIU’s sports mascot is the Saluki.  A Saluki is one of the oldest dog breeds, and is an Egyptian hunting dog similar to a greyhound or whippet.  SIU’s teams originally competed under the team name ‘Maroons’ from 1913 – 1951.’   Southern Illinois Salukis

Southern Illinois is often referred to as Little Egypt.

”The nickname ‘Egypt’ may have arisen in the 1830’s when poor harvest in the north of the state drove people to Southern Illinois to buy grain.  Others say it was because the lands of the great Mississippi and Ohio River valleys were like that of Egypt’s Nile delta.’    Wikipedia

This past Sunday we visited Blue Sky Winery with Ron and Ira Kaye.  We spent a  delightful afternoon listening to some lovely Blues music and I met the official provider of Saluki’s to SIU Carbondale…Mr. Blair.  Mr. Blair has been the Saluki Breeder for the past eleven years.  He was gracious to allow me to take pictures of these magnificent animals.

A Saluki puppy costs about two thousand and five hundred dollars.

‘It somewhat resembles a greyhound, but with long, floppy ears and a bushy tail.  While nomadic Bedouins frowned on dogs as unclean, they made an exception for the Saluki, giving the breed a reputation for being upper-crust.    Wikipedia