Fall is in the air today. Pumpkins and Pumpkin Spice are coming in the door of our lives. I relish the chill and the crispness of autumn. The forbearer of holidays and hot apple cider and sweaters…from L.L. Bean…and falling leaves and birthdays. Fall is a time for looking forward and for looking back. Our 2020 and 2021 Pandemic has been created two of the most challenging years that any of us have ever lived through. We pray for an end to our terrible scourge…

Fog creates uncertainty and shadows and things seen in silhouette. It is easy to believe that someone who speaks kind words to you and tells you what you want to hear…is your friend…but beware. There are some pastors and religious leaders who are wolves in sheep’s clothing. The Bible speaks of them. I know precious people who have been abused by cult leaders. They have been taken extreme advantage of and sexually abused. They have been emotionally and mentally abused. Their lives have been altered and changed by this heinous abuse for decades. They were told by their abusers to keep quiet and to tell no one…and many have obeyed the wolf’s command and have suffered and been in poor health and emotional distress for 40 years and more. Our minds and our emotions and our allegiances are malleable…especially when we are young. Much of the direction of our lives is commensurate on who we were listening to in our formative years. Studies have illustrated that a high percentage of sexual abuse is perpetrated by an abuser that the abused not only knows but is comfortable with. Authority figures pervert their authority in order to take advantage of the vulnerable.

When something seems too good to be true…it is. Listen to your gut feelings…tell someone when you are made to feel uncomfortable. When an authority figure tells you that you are special or that they need you to keep a secret until your dying day…they are preparing to use you for their own lust and satisfaction…and not only do not have your interest at heart…they despise you and hold no value for your humanity…

There are churches that seek the deed to your life. The want to control your daily movements and your private life…including your finances. Some from those fellowships will extoll you that the best way to healing is to keep the secret of the devils that abused you… Nothing could be further from the truth! The road to your healing is to shed sunlight on the darkness that these evil people operated in. When you hide the abuse that you suffered it is like giving the abuser carte blanche to continue to abuse.

The Sun is shining on the lives of many who have suffered under the perversion of the gospel of Christ. Many of these false prophets proclaim that to leave them and to think for yourself will cause you to get sick and die. On the contrary…you will heal and get well…while their perversions will consume them…

My L.L. Bean Deerskin and fleece lined house shoes…were ‘Wicked Good!’ MJ’s parents, Fernie and Berl, bought me a pair for Christmas…for several years…when I was much younger and had smaller feet. I padded around our little 4 room house in Elkville, Illinois…and felt warm and secure and well served by such fine footwear. On our first day in Maine, a week ago Sunday, we traveled to L.L. Bean. MJ had told me that I might want to search for a new sweater…and that is all that I needed to hear. I found a wonderful black sweater that was heavy…only like L.L. Bean makes them for the harsh Maine winters. One time I had a pair of slacks that were quilted. They were the warmest slacks that I had ever owned…and they were from L.L. Bean. I also found a pair of Deerskin gloves…and they reminded me of my former beloved slippers with the only difference that they would keep my hands warm.

Ports of Italy is an Italian restaurant that is in Boothbay Harbor. Two and one half years ago when we visited Maine…we dined at Ports twice. The cuisine and service are five star. Have you ever had the experience of being served at a restaurant and feeling like you were home? That was our first experience and it has been replicated each time that we have been privileged to have dinner there. In 2019 our server was a gentleman from London, England and he was a consummate professional. This time we had a lovely lady who was a native of Italy and she advised us as to the glories of the Limoncello cake. Last Friday I had the Lobster Ravioli…and it was to die for… Have you ever had homemade pasta? There is a difference that is outstanding.

A Taste of Maine is just outside Portland…on the way to Boothbay Harbor. Their Seafood Casserole taught me what I had been missing in Little Egypt…when attempting to enjoy seafood. Also, their Lobster Mac and Cheese is chuck full of Lobster…and sensory heaven…

It is a rainy and cool day as I look out from the Writing Porch. Similar to my impressions of our 2011 porch addition…I feel like I did the first time that I sat out on it. It reminds me of Maine.

So, last Saturday as we drove back to the Portland Airport we had a little time to kill…as so we stopped again at L.L. Bean. I found another sweater…

During our recent holiday in Maine I decided that Camden is one of my favorite towns. From the Ironworks Gallery to the Waterfront Restaurant…Camden is a joy to visit. Joy is the owner of Ironworks Gallery and she told me of some health challenges that she has undergone in 2021. I could see her appreciation for life exuding from her eyes.

Tomorrow…a week ago…we journeyed to Camden for the specific purpose of enjoying a, ‘To Die For,’ plate of clams to rekindle the marvelous memory of enjoying the same dish 2 and 1/2 years ago. As we excitedly walked up to the Waterfront Restaurant a dignified man wearing an extremely wide brimmed straw hat….called out…we are closed. When I heard his cry…I wondered who that he was talking to? We were. ‘On a mission from God.’ He repeated his entreaty. I looked up and suddenly realized that he was speaking to us. He mentioned that he was sorry but that he was short of staff and that they had to have a day off… MJ kept walking…and we called out to her a time or two before she halted…none of us could believe that our favorite clam serving waterfront view eatery…was closed…on our first visit after so very long. Somewhat similar to General Douglas McArthur…we vowed that we would return. And return we did…on Thursday…for succulent and delightful fried clams and perfect Dirty Martinis.

Lobster is one of my favorite foods. I remember when my in-laws vacationed in Maine 30 years ago and upon their return to Elkville, Illinois…MJ asked them if they had enjoyed some lobster. Fernie replied that they had not as she had supposed that it would be cheap in Maine and that rather than cheap is was expensive. Market price for seafood changes daily and it never went down during our weeks stay

We enjoyed a wonderful dinner with our friends, Joan and Jim, who were also staying at the Ocean Point Inn the same time that we were. The camaraderie and fellowship that we enjoyed as fellow travelers from Little Egypt…was uplifting.

Bath, Maine can not be missed for the joy of their Brewery. Although there was a long staircase to climb to reach the top floor of the establishment…it was worth it for the indulgence in the wonderful hoppy brew. Our first visit in 2019 was not long after the Brewery had opened. Our server was excited with all of the possibilities that lay in store for their business. The place was jumping when we visited last week…

So, after 2 and 1/2 years…we finally made it too Maine. We wondered and fretted as to whether we should have gone…but we were vaccinated and masked and we did the deed. It was wonderful! We lodged at the Ocean Point Inn and Resort at Boothbay, Maine. The Inn has wonderful Ocean views and is rustic and comfortable. ‘The Inn was founded in 1898 by Captain Edward Burnham. It was originally called, Captain Burnham’s.’ Google

Maine has a special feel. There is a compelling and peaceful atmosphere. The majestic Atlantic Ocean with its rocky shores and 25 Maine Lighthouses…is a world that I thought only existed in story books and the movies. In fact we visited a Lighthouse that was featured in the movie, Forest Gump. During our week stay in Maine…many leaves changed.

Fun requires work…or as our Jamaican server told MJ one morning as he was asking her if she wanted some water, ‘Every thing that is sweet…requires water.’ Maine is a bit like an alternate reality. The architecture is different than the midwest…where the Brooks reside…and the pace is slower and more deliberate. It is a location that makes you consider where you have been…and where you would like to be…

Maine engenders a consideration of life and its meaning and your place in the grand story. Do you love lobster? I love lobster! I vowed to eat lobster each of the 7 days that we were there…I fell short by 2. Maine teaches you that the earths history is long…and you role in it…is short. As the parking attendant told me in Philadelphia when we visited several years ago and I did not like that he had instructed me to leave my windows down when I gave him the keys to the car, ‘What you crying about…Mon?’ Once that you are fully immersed in Maine and its spectacular natural beauty…you consider what makes you happy…and you seek those precious things.

Main is hard to get to…and it is hard to leave from. It wraps its arms around you and sings you the most lovely of sirens songs.

The Happy Traveler is still traveling and seeking…

Twenty years ago it was a peaceful Monday. Life was following its careful rhythms. We had just moved to Carbondale from the little village of Elkville in March of 2001. We had purchased our first new home. We had been living in it for almost 6 months. Aaron was attending John A. Logan College and Jonathon was in his senior year of high school. Mom lived with us…she had Alzheimers Disease. She could not be left alone.

I was thinking about the last chapter or my career at SIUC. I planned on retiring either in 2009 or 2010. I had been the superintendent of my department since 1997. During the last 3rd of my time at Southern I wanted to make a difference. MJ had resigned her position at the University to take care of Neva June. The fear of Y2K had been a recent issue and many feared the shut down of modern society due to our computers not working. The Supreme Court had decided that George W. Bush had won the presidential election. Our new President seemed to enjoy going to his ranch in Crawford, Texas…and chopping wood. Chancellor Jo Ann Argersinger had been unjustly terminated in the summer of 1999….and I still was not over it…she was my friend.

Tuesday, September 11 was a beautiful day with the sun shinning in cloudless skies. In those days I watched the Today Show on NBC each morning as I was preparing to go to work. I remember Katie Couric saying that a plane had hit one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York. During the next few minutes fear gripped our nation as terrorist flew jets into both towers and the Pentagon…and the brave passengers foiled the hijackers of their plane and it crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Night fell on our country. We did not know who had attacked us…or why…or when the next attack was planned. I watched, as did the nation, the rescue efforts of the first responders and many from every state who travelled to New York to help. As the gruesome days went by…we came to realize that there were no survivors. The band at Buckingham Palace in London…played the Star Spangled Banner. Congress and the Senate met on the Capitol Steps to sing the National Anthem…there was no political party division.

Let us look back 20 years…to chart our future of unity and peace…and not hatred and strife…

I watched two of my friends today on a YouTube video. Their message was chilling and compelling and courageous. They spoke of abuse and being groomed by the abuser for some time. They spoke of the insidious questions that a person in authority or an authority figure will ask the person that they are grooming. Questions such as, ‘Are you trustworthy?’ ‘Can you keep a secret?’ What is happening…you must take to your grave.’

There are churches that abuse. If your town does not have one…you are an anomaly. Pastoral abuse can range from simple nosiness…to church leadership inquiring into your personal finances and requiring you to give at least 10%…and often 20% or more of your hard earned dollars that you need to support your family. Cults…or wolves that masquerade as sheep…want to be in the middle of couples married life. Commenting on everything from a persons weight to their perceived loyalty to the all knowing leader…who insists on a daily basis that only he/she hears from God…and all else is heresy.

Churches that abuse tell their honest hearted parishioners that they must continue to follow the teachings of the God ordained pastor…or suffer illness and early death…if they leave the flock. A hallmark of a cult is the public ridicule and singling out of people in the congregation if they are even slightly thought to have a different idea that the leader. Fear of God…not favor of the Creator…is the hallmark of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Cult leaders demand the obeisance of all of the groups members. This slavish servitude often extends to whether or not a member of the group is approved to purchase a new automobile or is able to go on vacation.

Sexual abuse is found in cultish churches on a regular basis. When you have groomed a group of people to believe that every word that you speak is as if God was speaking to them…the crossing of sexual boundaries happens often.

Churches that abuse are closed societies. When all of your friends are subservient to the same perverse doctrine that you are…it is extremely difficult to see the forest for the trees. Many have been inextricably hurt by abuse and mind control and brain washing. If you are told enough times that you are no good…you begin to believe it. If you are abused enough times your entire physical and mental structure will suffer damage. Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and nightmares and depression and nervous breakdown…are suffered by many.

Mental illness is attributed to demons or the devil in churches that abuse. Pop psychological dribble is applied to a person that is ill. Since their mental illness has a physical basis in them…the approach of Norman Vincent Peale’s book, The Power of Positive Thinking, is not affective in wellness of people that need a trained clinician and the appropriate medication.

Memory is a time machine. I wrote of Malones Taffy at the DuQuoin State Fair, the other day, and I not only could taste the taffy but I could smell the sweet State Fair Aroma of corn dogs and elephant ears and lemon shake-ups. I could see the dusty paths of the fairgrounds and remember the excitement of attending a Barbara Mandrel concert…where she sang a song to MJ and her sister…that was about sisters.

In 2011 we had our screened in porch built. What began as something that I considered would be nice…it became my favorite place in/outside our home. One of the first times that I sat in its high splendor…I was transported to Maine and the Clarks Point Bed and Breakfast that we enjoyed on Southwest Isle. I was peacefully staring out at our pond, which we call Brooks Lake, and a cool breeze was blowing and I was enjoying a glass of. wine. When I shut my eyes and then reopened them…I was on the front porch of the bed and breakfast on Sunday…drinking wine and peering out at the ocean.

Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale welcomed me to a wonderful career on the evening of October 10, 1978. I was 20…and felt old. It was a cool and crisp afternoon and I was excited to be hired into a job that would become my home for 32 years and 2 months and 3 weeks. Our little offices were located in the old fire station that was next to the coal pile. The Accounting building that I was assigned to..was filthy. I was overjoyed…what a way to make a first impression…just by doing my job. My immediate supervisor was a little bald man who was friendly and enjoyed drinking coffee. His boss was an African American gentleman who walked with limp and smoked cigars. Both of these gentlemen made me feel like I was most important to the success of SIUC. I subsequently performed like my work made a difference…and it did…

I just saw a video of chancellor Lane giving students a ride to their classes in a golf cart. The students were pleasantly surprised and the chancellor was moved by their joy in his reaching out to them.

September is well planted with 7 days in. Our weather can not decide if it wants to be cool and crisp autumn… or fight to retain the warmth of summer. Leaves are already changing on Campus. Our next holiday is my birthday…at least in my mind. As I strolled the walkways of Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale this morning I thought of the untold ways that our University helps our entire Southern Illinois region…and how we suffer when SIUC…suffers.

Hamlets and villages best describe Little Egypt. During my travels across our country and in Europe…I am often asked where I am from. When I say Illinois the response is immediate in that almost all say, ‘Chicago?, and I answer that I am from Southern Illinois and that we are much closer to St. Louis, Missouri rather than Chicago. Many of our little towns replaced their closed businesses with antique stores…20 years ago. Families with children live on poverty wages and count on their ability to eat with the assistance of government subsidies. Little Egypt is a beautiful place to live…but a hard place to make a living.

Our Pandemic has left economic devastation in its wake. It has affected everything from church attendance to restaurants that have been able to remain open. There are affluent people in our area and people who are homeless…but the great majority of families live from paycheck to paycheck…and if there is a $400 emergency…they do not have the money. It has been said that assistance is not necessary and promotes laziness of the underprivileged. Many people that I know work 2 and often 3 jobs to make ends meet. While others have great difficulty in finding and securing jobs for many reasons. Many of our wonderful young people can not survive on the minimum wage pay that they receive. Perhaps if we paid people a living wage…we would not have so many job vacancies?

Southern Illinois University is the economic engine that propels our region. Carbondale has turned into a mirror image of many of our little towns and hamlets and villages. This is why I was so pleased to see the enrollment bleeding slowed to a trickle. We need a vibrant University like we need air to breath and water to drink.

Joy you carry with you. Contentment is a daily garment. Peace flows from your soul…outward. September causes me to reflect on happiness. Life is replete with the rollercoaster vagaries of human existence. It is a bit like playing roulette or the slots…or following the Stock Market….it produces a lot of mountain tops…and more than its share of valleys. You are young and then you turn around and you are middle age…and then with one more turn…you are old. You may think as the African parking garage attendant asked me in Philadelphia when I was upset with his request that I leave my car window down, ‘What you crying about Mon?’

Labor Day has finally arrived. From now until years end….I grip each day with a hard grasp. For many years I watched the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon hosted by the popular comedian and actor and filmmaker, Jerry Lewis. The Labor Day Telethon told me that my time of year had arrived…and that it would pass like the blink of an eye. Jerry’s love for children that were stricken with MD captivated my attention. I remember MJ and Aaron and Jonathon and I traveling to Cedar Creek Lake to swim one last time…on Labor Day. When we arrived…it had already been closed for the season. We checked another swimming hole or two…and all were closed…a day early as far as we saw the issue. Since our retirement we have holidayed in the warm months and those being primarily in the summer. We have journeyed to the Caribbean for at least four separate Cruises and one weeks stay on the Caribbean Island of St. John. All were extremely hot. We do not function well in heat. We have taken to traveling in the spring or fall…or winter. Maine should be lovely in the autumn.

DuQuoin State Fair ends today. The flowers and plants that are on display in the Great Exhibition House…are a bit wilted. The Carnies are hot and tired…and ready to pack up for the next gig. What was once an impressive State Fair has been diminished to a regional event to mark the end of summer. Malones Taffy is still delicious. When I was a child…Mr. Malone…himself…made the taffy…and he called out, ‘Get it now…get it now!’ It is still a great venue to bring the hard working citizens of rural Illinois together for a bit of fun and fellowship.

MJ and I used to attend a church convention is Kingsport, Tennessee over the Labor Day weekend. Tennessee is full of wonderful and friendly people. In restaurants the servers called me honey and baby…and I liked it. We stayed with people in the church that we were visiting and the Shuecrafts treated us like their own family. I am certain that my love for the South began in Donna and Al’s basement. Each night, after church, Al and Donna would take MJ and I out for dinner or at least Fudge Cake at Shoneys Restaurant. Sundays we would attend a very popular restaurant in the mall in Kingsport…Piccadillys. They refused to allow us to pay a dime for anything. Al was a kind Kentuckian. When someone asked him why I never stayed with them when I came to Kingsport…Al said, ‘When Brother Jay comes to Kingsport…he stays with me…’ I loved Al and Donna Shuecraft.

Labor has my heart. I began my working career at Essex International in DuQuoin, Illinois. The factory made wire harnesses for Chrysler trucks. I rode to work with Karen and Carol Dean. Later I was hired by Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale as a Building Service Worker I. Later I became a Building Custodian, which was a crew leader in the housekeeping department. Finally I achieved my career goal of being promoted to a Building Service Worker III…or a foreman. I was 28 years old. Then followed my 25 years in management/administration at SIUC. During my years in management/administration I wore 2 hats. My hat as a manager/administrator…and my hat as a union advocate for my precious staff. My friend, Jerry Raney, who was the Business Agent for S.E.I.U. Local #316. On more than one occasion he invited me to the DuQuoin State Fair Labor Lunch. I was always touched that he invited me…but as a manager/administrator…I wondered if some of the union membership would feel that it was inappropriate for me to attend.

Our nation is full of hard working laborers. We have no pedigree nor degree. Our bona-fides are the callous on our hands and our love for our country and our world. Our University could not have fulfilled their academic mission…without us.

Contemplation is a worthy exercise on Sunday. It is good to think about where you have been and where you are going. I vividly recall that, at least in Little Egypt, we did not work on Sunday…including not cutting our grass. Most retail stores were closed on Sunday. Alcohol could not be purchased on Sunday. But…the theatre was open for business…and that is where I spent the bulk of my day. I loved movies and could not get my fill of them. In the early 1960’s I paid 35 cents for my movie ticket and stayed all day…watching and rewatching the same movie. Even now if I see a movie that I particularly like…I return to the theatre for a second viewing…but not on the same ticket. Sunday is a good day for a nap..but then what day isn’t? It is a prime day for a bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich…especially in these waning days of summer. It is a good day to think about your blessings and ignore your problems. Sunday says to us, ‘Come with me and I will show you special plans for your future.’

I viewed a Swedish movie called, ‘The Unthinkable,’ and it was thought provoking in its primary thesis that although the Apocalypse seemed to be happening all around the main characters…they wanted to take care of unfinished interpersonal relationships. The old saying that we can not see the forest for the trees has never been truer. We seek satisfaction is things…when people who love us are on our right hand and on our left…waiting…

Sunday is good for thought. I wonder if we think about thought…enough? Thought wrote the Bible. Thought wrote the Declaration of Independence. Inextricable and knotty problems are solved through slow and immersive thought. Emotions mislead and misdirect us on many occasions but the axiom of my favorite Star Trek character, Mr. Spock, will aid us immensely if we stay dedicated to its simple question, Is it logical or illogical? Is is logical to ingest the livestock dewormer, ivermectin, rather than a vaccine that has been rigorously tested by the FDA…for the prevention of Covid 19?

Collecting is a passion of mine and somewhat of MJ’s. Many years ago we fancied pewter figures by Rickert Pewter who had a lovely store in St. Louis Union Station when Union Station still had quality stores and restaurants. Mr. Rickert was friends with the popular actor, Leslie Neilson, and mentioned Leslie’s name often. His pewter creations were lifelike and compelling. MJ and I were enjoying dinner at Union Station and we ordered some white wine, which we seldom if ever imbibed wine…prior to this event. As MJ was on her second glass she asked me if I wanted the pewter figure of a man operating a video camera. Now this was a little statue that I wanted very badly due to the artistic rendering reminding me…of me. I literally had the video camera at my eye and running video tape for every event of Aaron and Jonathon’s childhood. So, we made our way upstairs to the Rickert Pewter store. I purchased my prized figurine…and I began looking at another…when MJ took my arm and intoned that the video camera man…was enough for today.

Rickert invited us to a special showing on a Sunday of his plethora of pewter creations. We went and the complimentary wine flowed freely. He had just began working on his first of several Baseball Hall of Famers. He was offering Stan Musial as the first figure. It was much taller than his regular creations and mounted on an onyx base. We ordered one as well as Jesus and six disciples. At the time it seemed like a wonderful executive decision. We have and enjoy them to this day…only Stan Musial of the six that were commissioned and Jesus and half of his disciples.

Love and peace and happiness and contentment is wrapped up in Sunday. We christians renew our relationship with our Creator on Sunday. We consider where we have failed to illustrate the love of Christ and we renew our determination to do better…with God’s help…in the coming week…