It is here, October Rain. Change is happening. Fall woke from its slumber and said it was time to go. Autumn put on its slicker and its yellow rain cap and smoked a pipe. ‘It is a bit hot for October 6th,’ Autumn said thoughtfully as he puffed on his meerschaum pipe. ‘I must shake sleep from my eyes and beard and set about my business,’ A noted. ‘Soon the kiddos will Trick or Treat and I must be prepared,’ A considered. ‘The rain will settle the dust of the hot summer and focus the mind on important matters,’ A smiled. ‘Would you like a cup of mulled cider, Equinox dear?’ Autumn asked his wife. ‘I have been steeping it on the hearth,’ A smiled.

‘I did not sleep well,’ Equinox said. ‘It has been too hot,’ Equinox explained. ‘Usually by October 6th, we have chilly mornings and crisp days in the Woods,’ E laughed. ‘Then leaves are falling dry on to the ground,’ E observed. ‘The Old Man crunches through them on his daily walk,’ E laughed. ‘He snaps thousands of photos,’ Equinox winked. ‘Old Man walks with his Guardian Angel,’ E observed. ‘They laugh and talk as the leaves fall,’ E grinned.

‘Do you think that the rain will hurt the rhubarb?’ Mr. Fox asked Mr. Badger. ‘Tomorrow we must unmoor the boat and take a trip down the river,’ Mr. Fox said. ‘Let’s ask Mr. Mole to join us as he is always up for some messing about in boats,’ Fox exclaimed. ‘Of course Mr. Toad must come if we can pry him away from his motor car,’ Fox observed. ‘Ratty will want to come along if he is not already involved in a fall adventure,’ Fox noted.

‘What a glorious day for a boat ride,’ Mr. Toad exulted. ‘I see Mr. Great Blue Heron and Little Blue as well as Mr. Beaver and the Frog Quartet,’ Mr. Toad enthused. ‘The Frogs are motioning us over to them,’ Mr. Toad laughed. ‘Oh my heavens, this is wonderful indeed, they want me to join them for a solo as they sing back up to my vocal incantations,’ Mr. Toad danced on one foot and then the other with his face toward the sky.

Sunday night was marked by the TV shows Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, Marlin Perkins’ Wild Kingdom, and Lassie. Then thoughts returned to school on Monday morning. The weekend had gone by rapidly, as they all have. This time in October, thoughts were on birthdays and Halloween. Then came Thanksgiving and the boss of all holidays, Christmas. Christmas was another world. Christmas Trees and decorations throughout the town. Santa Claus is coming to your house. Neva J singing, ‘Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, will you please put a penny in the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny, a haypenny will do. If you haven’t got a haypenny, God bless you.

I looked at the photos of my classmates at our 50th reunion and instantly saw them as the children we were over 50 years ago. They are frozen in time in my mind’s eye. They have not aged. I remembered their kindness and good humor. I hear the infectious laughs. I recall their enthusiastic cheers for the Eldorado Eagles. When I saw a photo of those who are no longer with us, I was saddened. I could hear the ‘Forever Young’ speak to me as if we were sitting in class. I could see their youthful smiles and hopes for the future.

Life is a mystery. We are young for a moment. We know our moment is special. At times, we do not realize that we are in the midst of our moment while we are waiting for it to begin.

The stage is set. We are in the wings waiting to walk on. We have learned our lines. We have our costume in place. The photographer widens the aperture. The Play is happening while we wait in the wings. The wings are part of the Play. Everything is a scene in the production. Do we hope to start living while life is progressing?

We grow older, but our hearts do not. We love and are loved. We hope and fear and pray. We want to get our part right. We want our lines to count. We want to understand the Secret…

October is a special month. A month I anticipate all year. I was hired on October 10, 1978, at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale. It is a date that lives in the highlights of the Brooks Family Book. A day that changed our lives. We went from outside looking in the window to having a chair by the fireplace. It was warm and cozy by the fireside of opportunity. We went from having two junker cars to buying an LTD Coupe. A brand new car that was listed for 7K but was reduced to 6K. The car payments were $170 per month, and MJ cried for fear we would not be able to make the payment. We did. Soon we bought a little house. It was a sense of place. It felt good to be a homeowner. The little house had a concrete driveway and a humongous picture window. Three and a half years later, Aaron made his appearance. A six-foot Christmas Tree was strategically placed in front of the herculean picture window. We had arrived. MJ hosted Thanksgiving in our four-room house. One Thanksgiving, we had 24 members of our family. When one person moved, we all shifted. Earl brought smoked meat, and Neva J enjoyed shots of rum that MJ gave her. We were as proud as if we lived in a mansion. To this day, the Thanksgivings in the little house are lodged in my heart.

Aaron’s first Christmas came. We wanted something special. We purchased a handmade Nativity for $100 and thought we spent $1000.00. No one would outdo the Brooks. We had moved into the block and were there to stay. Not everyone had a concrete driveway. We came from poor folks. People who enjoyed going to the Dairy Queen on Friday night. We watched the cars pass by while we ate our nickel ice cream cones. Pride was shunned among the hardscrabble people of Eldorado. We were proud that we knew Jesus and that we earned an honest dollar.

Berl told me after I was hired in Building Services at SIUC that he would like to see me get a good job at the University. He thought I could do better and told me so regularly. Earl asked me why I did not take the Security Police Civil Service Exam. He knew that the Security Police would be much greater than a Building Service Worker I. Years later, Earl became a Building Service Worker I and enjoyed it. Although he did ask me if her was too old for a Security Officer.

I was born on October 24, 1957. For years, it was hard for me to remember if my birth year was 1957 or 1958. We came from Chicago on a Harley-Davidson. We were cool cats. Dad wore a motorcycle cap and carried a gun. Mom wore a red scarf and was so beautiful in the sunlight. I sat in the middle and wondered what it all meant. Eldorado was like another planet. I knew no one, and they did not know me. I had gone from having plenty to having nothing. Neva J could not afford the 20 cents a day for school lunch, so I was the only kid in the first-grade class to carry my lunch in a brown paper bag. Some of my classmates asked me if I did not have only 20 cents, and I thought 20 cents was a lot when you do not have it. President Kennedy was assassinated in November. School let out early. Neva J cried. I had several friends on the block in Chicago. Now I had none, not even 20 cents to buy lunch.

October is rolling along. The baseball playoffs are in play. The month of scary, mysterious creatures and mystical events is upon us. October helps us get our minds off so many unanswered questions in our day-to-day lives. When we see Frankenstein, we understand his motivation. He is misunderstood as we are. Frankenstein was looking for a friend. Someone to smoke a cigar with. A little peace and quiet refuge from a type A wife. Our leaders seem to have such deep motivations that we assume criticism is appropriate. Let your ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ be ‘no,’ it has been said. Brevity is a key to communication. We have two ears and one mouth, so we should use them appropriately.

‘The day is exquisite,’ Old Man said. ‘The autumn leaves are brilliant, cool breezes lend to contemplation, ‘the Old Man continued. ‘Thoughts of days gone by and the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,’ the Old Man laughed to himself. ‘I have brought my appetite,’ the Old Man exclamied! ‘I am glad to see you, Mr. Deer,’ the Old Man greeted. ‘My, you have a jaunty hat, Mr. Badger,’ the Old Man continued. ‘Mr. Mole, are those new glasses you are wearing,’ the Old Man asked with a wink. ‘Mr. Toad has a new automobile,’ the Old Man asked. ‘You are quite the racecar driver,’ the Old Man observed.

‘OM, how are you? You’re getting younger,’ Mr. Mole asked. ‘Each time we meet, I see more of the Young Man I first met,’ Mr. Mole observed. ‘I remember when you worked 16+ hours per day to make your bread,’ Mr. Mole grinned. ‘By the way, MJ did make some delicious bread in those halcyon days,’ Mr. Mole laughed so hard his glasses fell forward on his nose.

‘Follow me, OM, and I will show you my recent discovery,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘It is a time machine hidden in the midst of the ancient sandstone,’ Mr. Badger continued. ‘Walk through the tunnel and you will see something amazing,’ Mr. Badger smiled.

‘Hit the deck, you rubberneck,’ Neva J called out. ‘I have the coffee made and the bacon for your bacon sandwich,’ Neva J said as she returned to bed.

‘This year we shall dress as the Wind In The Willows characters,’ Chet said. ‘We will be the talk of the Halloween Party,’ Chet continued. ‘We will have Frankenstein join us, he is sleeping in the guest room since he and his Bride had a disagreement over his cigars,’ Chet winked. ‘Frankenstein thoroughly enjoys an autumn picnic in the woods,’ Chet proclaimed. ‘We will bolster his spirit before he returns to domestic bliss,’ Chet laughed.

‘Cigars for all,’ Frankenstein said with glee.

It is a lovely, warm October day. Neither hot like August nor cool like October. Caught in the middle. Not the first time. Not the last. The hot weather belies the holiday season. The saying of the old guys when I was a boy is that they did not know if it was time to shit or wind their watch. So it goes, change is coming. October 10th is on the horizon. A big day in the Brooks home in 1978. MJ and I were newlyweds and had little money. She donated her teaching services to our church school, and I worked for a Janitorial Service. Upon my first day back to work after three days’ holiday given to me by the Service’s owners, I had two lovely cheeseburgers in my lunch box. I thought that this marriage thing was good. When I complimented my bride, she cautioned that we would not be able to eat a cheeseburger every day due to our limited grocery funds. As Jennifer said last night, life is hard. So when I received the call that I had been hired at Southern Illinois University, I was thrilled. We would have enough money for cheeseburgers. I began my Christian walk in a conservative church. I enjoyed it and became somewhat of a minor celebrity in the congregation of those enjoying their Golden Years. Before the service began, I made a point of shaking hands with everyone in the little country church. They told me I spoke like a miniature adult. I absorbed the tropes of fundamentalist Christian doctrine, which in those days had a lot of love and no fight in it. The pastor was a World War II veteran and was quick to cry over his faith. He accepted everyone, and the results were the expansion of our little congregation by at least 50 Jewish Hippies. Among that group from Chicago, my friend Jeff was a member. As I became a teenager, I had dreams of becoming a minister. I had felt a pull in that direction since the days of Bible School at the Church of Christ in Eldorado, where the teacher asked me to tell my understanding of the Bible story of Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. The Bible School Teacher told the class that she had never heard someone so young explain the passage so passionately. I was a Christian from that point in my young life.

Experiences change understanding. I saw hate and divisiveness fill where love once was. Lines were drawn. A tug of war ensued. There were victors and vanquished. Love, forgiveness, and understanding were no longer in the mix. It was time to take sides, the Rev. Jerry Falwell told his congregation in Lynchburg, Virginia. It was time for Christians to become political. I admired Billy Graham, who never wavered from teaching the simple message of salvation. Amazing Grace is my favorite song. I vividly recall when all poor and blue-collar folks were Democrats. The Republican Party seemed to not recognize their existence. Now, religion is equated with which political party you are affiliated with.

In those halcyon days, we attended two church conventions a year. One on Memorial Day and the other on Labor Day. I watched as other young men were called upon to preach, and I was not. During this time, I was preaching at the funerals for our little church. I understood that I was a background character and liked it as it fit my introvert nature. The demarcation between us and them offended me. We were all God’s Children. My understanding was changing.

University was a revelation. So many people of every skin shade and faith, and no faith. I loved the international community. An African student told me that all of the international students wanted to work for me because I had no prejudice. I have never received a greater compliment and have tried to live up to it. God is no respector of persons, and we are all on the same road. God must laugh when he hears our petty and inane grievances about each other. I saw that women, minorities, and handicapped people were marginalized. I tried to right the wrongs done to marginalized folks with tremendous ability.

Serene is the word for this Friday. The Great White Heron is hunting dinner. The Frog Quartet is preparing for their Friday Night Performance. Mr. Beaver has taken the day off to attend his daughter’s wedding. Peace prevails in the Animal Kingdom. There is no us and them. There are no Christian Nationalists and Progressive Christians. ‘Nothing shall hurt or destroy in all of my holy mountain saith the Lord.’ ‘The wolf shall lie down with the lamb.’ Job scrapes his boils with potsherds. Job knows there is a better way. Job remembers the life of peace and plenty.

‘Demons will charm you with a smile for a while.’ So goes the stirring Broadway song. We remember the protectors of our youth. Someone who stood up for us when others were silent. The person who took our part when others averted their eyes from our plight.

Politicians sell their strength as being our protector. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. We do not travel this rocky road alone. Many have taken an interest in our welfare. Often without goading or a hidden agenda. As Sally Field said when she received the Academy Award for Best Actress in a leading role in her 1979 portrayal of Norma Rae, ‘You like me, you really like me.’

Have you received a telephone call from an old friend only to discover they want to sell you something? Has a powerful person in your organization suddenly become your friend, only to reveal themselves as needing something from you once the commercial ends? Those precious guardians who stand by you with nothing to gain are more precious than the Gold of Ophir.

We wear a brave mask. We speak courageously. We carry a big stick. Inwardly, we are the little fat kid with thick glasses at the back of the classroom. We need a protector to walk alongside us. Age puts things in perspective. Not so many people to please and get an affirmative glance from. Money does not color the transaction. The Ladder’s Rungs have been climbed. Yet are we good enough, as Al Franken’s character Stuart Smalley asked on Saturday Night Live?

Watch the Leader who portends his invincibility to the masses. He is smarter than others and better educated. He needs no counsel, as his counsel is his own brain. Experts do not understand what he understands instinctively from allegorical information. Inside is a little afraid child. The child is determined to punish those who do not agree with him. The child broaches no dissent. Accepts no varying opinion. Fear marks his path. Who will rip off the mask, he thinks. They must be stopped before that happens. Who will reveal that he does not like peas and carrots and will not eat them?

‘I think we have picked a glorious fall day to walk in the Woods,’ Guardian Angel said. ‘It is warm now, but that will change, and soon the snow will cover the ground,’ GA noted. ‘I have been by your side since you sat in front of the three heart doctors in Chicago,’ GA said. ‘Neva J feared you would not make it to Evansville, Indiana, due to what the Ambulance Driver said,’ GA continued. ‘I was certain that you would make it and have a fulfilling life,’ GA grinned. ‘Nothing is going to harm you, not while I am around,’ Guardian Angel sang with a lilt.

‘Have you noticed that the skeletons and vampires Frankenstein and Dracula are ten feet tall in the neighbor’s yard?’ Jane asked. ‘When did the Halloween decorations get so big?’ Jane continued. ‘In our youth, we felt lucky to have a carved Jack-O-Lantern on the front porch,’ Jane laughed. ‘I saw a humongous skeleton once and have never determined if it was real or a dream,’ Jane said with a shaky voice. ‘The Big Bag Of Bones was standing behind Hillcrest School when I took the trash out for Mrs. Blackwell,’ Jane noted. ‘I was small but he seemed ten feet tall,’ Jane whispered. ‘He talked like a professor and greeted me warmly,’ Jane said. ‘His smile looked like piano keys,’ Jane observed. ‘BOB asked me if he could be in the Halloween School Play,’ Jane said. ‘He said he had theatrical experience on Broadway,’ Jane laughed. ‘BOB said that he had met the prophet Ezeikel in the Valley of Dry Bones and that he was a good chap,’ Jane mused. ‘BOB began to dance a soft shoe without the need of the taps,’ Jane winked.

‘Jane, I can play any part in the Play,’ BOB said with assurance. ‘I have performed before kings and emperors,’ BOB smiled his piano key smile. ‘I was the inspiration for the song Dry Bones,’ BOB noted with pride. ‘I am sure you have heard it sung where the verses discuss how the bones are connected,’ BOB said with a wink. ‘The audience enjoyed the snappy rhythm and the plain explanation of how all of the bones work together to form the skeleton,’ BOB looked quizzical. ‘Remember there will be a time when the bones no longer work together but lie in Ezekiel’s Valley,’ BOB said quietly. ‘Someone will have the job of reuniting them again for their purpose,’ BOB promised.

‘Wakey Wakey,’ Nurse Ratched called out. ‘It is time for all of us to go to the rec room to see the Halloween Play, the kids from Hillcrest school are performing for our pleasure, Nurse Ratched said with authority. ‘Hello Jane, I was hoping you would be in the audience,’ BOB said. ‘It has been a while,’ BOB noted with a wide Piano Keys Grin. ‘This afternoon we will perform for the good times and the not so good, the joys and the sorrows we all know,’ BOB explained. ‘Jane, please come and join me on stage, take my hand, and we will dance the years away,’ BOB promised…

‘Wakey Wakey, Janie, it is time to go to school, Mom called out. ‘You practiced late last night for the Halloween Play, and who is BOB?’ Mom asked…

We have experienced them. A moment that does not fit our construct of reality. A puzzle piece that does not fit the opening for it. We think linear, but the moment is outside the lines. I had one of those moments when I thought, regarding our ‘Leave It To Beaver’ house in the suburbs of Chicago, ‘At least we have a good house this time.’ I was 3 or 4 years old. What was my frame of reference? What was I comparing it to? A thought that has remained unexplained to me and has stuck with me for my entire life.

I visited the University of Oxford a few years ago. When I entered the Library, I felt I had been there before. Now, the Oxford Library did not remind me of any Library I had seen nor read about. MJ Aaron, Jonathon, and I had visited London previously, but not Oxford. Yet I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I had not only visited the Library before, but the University. I felt at home.

I have known many people of faith who say they have seen angels and visions. I have not. My faith’s empirical reality is seeing Christ in other people.. Yet the feeling of familiarity and place has struck me on more than one occasion. There was a candidate for Chancellor of Southern Illinois University at Carbondale that I knew the moment I met her. We had not met, but somehow we had. I knew I must help her where I could. I understood she was right for our campus. I am a bit of an introvert, but I reached out to work for what I understood our people needed.

As the Assistant Superintendent of our department, I was told by one of our crew leaders that a member of his Malaysian student custodial staff had seen a ghost in Anthony Hall. The young woman had been checking to ensure that she had turned off the lights and locked the doors on the third floor of Anthony Hall, which began as a women’s dormitory named for Susan B. Anthony in the early days of the last century. The student saw a woman dressed in a white blouse and a dress to her feet sitting in a chair with her hair in a bun on the back of her head. When the strangely dressed woman did not respond to the student, she left in fear. The custodial crew leader took me into the attic of the renovated former dormitory and showed me an old photo of the women who stayed in the building. There were women all dressed in white blouses and dresses to their feet with their hair in buns on the back of their heads…

So we search for answers when we do not know the questions. Who are we in the grand theatrical production of life? Are we learning as we go, or do we come with a carpet bag full of experiences? As we look upon our surroundings, what evidence do we have that our neighbor is seeing the same things that we are seeing? Scientists tell us that our brains make sense of the molecules and atoms that make up everything our eyes see.

Could it be that once in a while, we get a peek behind the Veil? Is there another reality or dimension walking alongside us? Perhaps we have the occasional visitor from the other side of the Veil. Maybe they wonder about the unexplainable moments as we do…

Today has the ambiance of fall the heat of summer. Ten to fifteen degrees hotter than normal. Perhaps this is the new normal. My birthday month is in view. I see on Facebook that many of my classmates are 68, but I have yet to achieve that age. I remember when I thought 40 was old. I am becoming addicted to the long walk. My goals for the day were reached in one fell swoop. As the day progresses, I exceed my goals and my iPhone tells me that I am a good boy. Mylo and I like to be told we are good boys. He gets a spinach leaf for a reward. My reward is internal.

Signs are everywhere. The holidays are here. Jennifer and Jonathon have both been published in Grassroots Magazine. We all go to the Readings. They are a big event. My phone just announced that I have exceeded my walking goal. I am a good boy!

The baseball playoffs are coming tomorrow. The Cubs are in. Happy day in the Brooks home. Brooks Pond is shining. Mr. Beaver is building his dam. He is singular of purpose. He knows winter is coming. The Bullfrog Quartet is resting this afternoon for their evening performance. There is more peace than war. There is a lot of war. Some leaders would have us believe that our cities are war-ravaged. Of course, only one political party has the problem of war-ravaged cities. Where is the voice of Wisdom in the cacophony of hate? The Bullfrog Quartet will sing of peace. They laugh at the clownish antics of humans.

Halloween has become a celebration of life in the midst of hate. Children getting free candy and the innocence of youth. Frankenstein, the creation of the real monster, Dr. Frankenstein. A misunderstood creation who liked kids and the occasional cigar. Frankenstein’s Bride was also misunderstood. A woman of refinement who spoke up for herself. She loved an elaborate hairdo. Frank often stole away for a while to enjoy a good cigar or his pipe. He considered the vagaries and vicissitudes of his human neighbors. Why did his creator scream, ‘He’s alive.’ Frankenstein did not think his being alive was so extraordinary. After all, he had been alive before, and now he was back. Frankenstein thought, ‘I am back in the ballgame again.’ The Cubs needed a hitter. Someone who could knock it out of the park.

Now the latest Cub is walking to the plate,’ Harry Caray intoned. ‘Frank N. Stein has the determined stride of Babe Ruth,’ Harry Cary said. ‘Mr. Stein must be 7 feet tall,’ Harry Cary continued. ‘The bat looks dwarfed in his big green hands,’ Harry observed.

‘I have been told that his shoe size is 22,’ Steve Stone added. ‘Frank was a bit miffed that he could not enjoy his favorite cigar before his turn at bat,’ Steve Stone continued. ‘Mrs. Stein can be seen in the dugout screaming instructions for her beloved husband. Steve laughed. ‘She called out for him to zip up and spit out his tobacco chaw,’ Steve observed wryly. ‘I am told they had to go to London to stretch his cap with one of the only antique hat expanders left at an antique London Hat Emporium, Steve observed. ‘Wait…Frank N. Stein has signaled for a time out and has motioned for his manager, Wednesday Adams, to come to Home Plate,’ Steve said.

‘Well, Steve, it appears that Wednesday is giving Frank a cigar and he is lighting it with aplomb,’ Harry Carey noted. ‘I am telling you I have never seen a look of determination like Frank N. Stein has as he waits for the pitch,’ Harry exulted. ‘Holy Cow, it is a grand slam…Cubs Win…Cubs win…

The Old Man enjoyed a reflective Sunday in the Woods. Listening to C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity was a delight. A folksy discussion of what it means to be a Christian. That is folksy from a renowned academic and author who knew how to write for the common among us. The Audible Package is over 30 hours and contains five of Lewis’s books.

My high school class is celebrating its 50th reunion on Saturday. I remember graduating like yesterday. I knew I was moving from my home the next morning. I wondered what I would become. So it goes. Becoming is the road we are on. I knew on that hot evening in 1975, I wanted my life to center around Christ in some form. Nothing had stirred my imagination like the Bible. The Desire Of The Ages had come to live with men.

I listened to the popular Christian song The King Is Coming by Bill and Gloria Gaither and felt inspired. There was something beyond the Veil. I garnered many friends in church. In those halcyon days, I felt accepted by everyone. When I began attending church, it was predominantly attended by older people. I have a love for old folks, now my people to this day. The clock turns swiftly.

A circular saw is peeling its trade in the distance. MJ says I am good at spackling. I told her I did a lot of it during the 9 months I worked on building our church as a teenager. I did everything from spackling to applying tar to the outside walls of the new basement. I worked alongside Dear Departed John Green on many occasions.

For years, my work colleagues thought I was a preacher. I seldom mentioned scripture, but must have looked the part. My boss in custodial told me that if we were contracted, I would be fine, as I could go preach. He also told me I should have been a philosopher. I see grey well. Everything is not black and white. If Christ judged us in black and white, we would be in a bit of trouble. As I often told colleagues in Building Services who wanted me to discipline their coworkers, if the shoe were on the other foot, they would not feel so vengeful.

Humility is real. I remind myself daily to not think of my accomplishments more highly than I deserve. I have been helped every step on the path to becoming. From liver and eggnog to the Old Man in the Woods, I remain a servant. As a child, I asked for wisdom. I am still asking…

We live in a leadership community of Headstrong and Cocksure. Right is right and wrong is wrong, and never the twain shall meet. We are often mystified by our own lives, yet certain about the lives of others, especially when they are wrong. Perhaps we have missed the point of the exercise.