Who are we?

I never really dug deep enough I suppose,
or was not ready for the truth or
too worried about insignificantia to
investigate further.
I accepted the notion my Great Great Grandfather
was Prussian by heritage and left Prussia circa 1848...
to avoid mandatory service in the military as he was a farmer.
Actually, he was a Dane who lived in an area destined to become part of Germany.
He avoided service
to keep from killing his brothers
what kind of feeling did he harbor?
how did he cope with the news his people were slaughtered for land?
Power?
why were we calling ourselves german? How did that evolve?
several article links on history:


http://www.fortress-scandinavia.dk/Slesvigske-krige/ENG/index.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Schleswig_War

Thanksgiving Week

Thanksgiving Week in the US where we see symbols of turkey, harvest, abundance and the food shelf.
Feeding the hungry new children of the depression that has blanketed our fair country.
The difference between this depression and the 1930 depression is that back then people knew how to cope with it.
Our grandparents were resourceful and had gardens, took in boarders, bartered and scrimped, hoarded, shared with family. There were poor farms and overseers of the poor before welfare, Medicaid and community action agencies.
These new generations are dependent on the electronic "necessities" even taking a priority over food and basics.
Maslow's hierarchy turned upside down.
Everyone wanting the transformative qualities of higher intellectual functioning and reasoning all while
ignoring the basics: food,water, air, and fire.
I sincerely hope that whatever you celebrate at harvest time is a joyful experience. Herrad shared her stuffing recipe and I am thankful as it came just before we go to town to buy the trimmings.
And even if all you can afford is a silent prayer for those less fortunate, give it a try.
Do you sometimes look at the crowds and see faces from black and white photos like those of the "great depression?"
Do you wake up in the middle of the night disoriented from the cruelty, jealosy and cold hearted behavior of humans?
Give thanks, my friend, you are not alone.
I think about my grandfather Carl, "Kelly", whom I only know through the light in my Mother's eyes when she said "Dad", whom she lost in 1930.
I often wondered what were his nightmares as he saw first the days leading up the the depression, The roaring 20's and in the aftermath the pit of a fallen market, hungry children, jobless despair.
The night he clutched his chest and looked one last time into Fanny's eyes, was he praying for her and her two children and all he was unable to help?
He will always be a tall strapping man. He has never aged beyond that day when he left the material world.
He was my grandfather, and I look to his memories for understanding of the depression that hit his granddaughter with a modern day version of Grapes of Wrath.
Oh to have a few minutes with him,
Someday.
Mary

Uncle Willie

Uncle Willie was known to me only in a confidential relationship so I cannot say what we spoke about. Perhaps that adds to the secrecy and mystique of this German family with deep passions and silent cold stares. He was Fred's uncle who died a few weeks ago which we found out by accident, not direct notification.

More hints.

I can say he gave me permission to feel we did the right thing by giving up the barn and other dilapidated buildings thinking we might be committing some disrespectful act. Of course the buildings should go. Our brief highly enjoyable chat left me with seeing the man much more similar to my husband in personality, grit, independence, ingenuity, caring, charm and one of a kindness. The oldest man in the family.

We will miss that we were shut out of his life and wish him peace on his journey and the embrace forgiveness and love that heaven should bring.

The sheep barn disappeared as I looked at the calendar on April 3rd.

Willie died April 4th.

We saw a view likely not there when he was born, in this house, at the outset of world war 1. It is quite stunning. He was right. They should have got rid of that building a long time ago.

Auf Wiedersehen Willie.

Mary Gerdt

Virgil Caine

We were delighted to be co-co-adopters of a female golden eagle named Virgil Caine.

Her name is special to us as we are serious Levon Helm fans who think Virgil resembles Levon a little.

We watch her progress thanks to seaturtle.org. and friends who sent us our adoption papers as a special gift.

She undoubtedly flies very near here on her annual migration and we will be watching for her this year. I think she probably flies past Levon Helm's place in Woodstock as well, traveling up the Hudson eating trout and up the Champlain Valley eating salmon and ducks and then up the Seaway to the Bay of Fundi.

Wish her luck.

Just think...so many parents. No weaning. No custody battle. She's on her own already and has the perfect lifestyle following the nice weather from the Virginia highlands to Nova Scotia and back.

We think of you often, Virgil Caine

Fred's Dad

Now I come to write of Fred's Dad's passing a few weeks shy of his 90th birthday.

Here are a few words to sum up the man as I knew him.

May Rudy Rest in peace.

Dad was a Dreamer, Inventor, Farmer, War Hero and Traveler.
Lover of sailing and the sea.
At home with his suitcase, he never failed to be ready for an adventure.
Story teller, Philosopher, a Simple Complicated Man.
Husband, Father, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather.
He lived through the depression and Wars. Good times and bad.
For those fortunate to know him, you know the sparkle in his eye and his dry wit, his stories that would catch you at the end and make you coming back for more.
We loved him dearly and
Pray he is at peace now and
By the side of
His Soul mate, his Friend, his Partner, his Confidant, and
Mother to his children,
And telling her stories of his mortal times.
And remembering the places he had been,
Things he had done, people he had met and family he raised
With a tear and a smile as he had remembered her always.
Love, Fred and Mary

Donna's Mom

Hazel and Dad,
Thanks to my Dear alte freunde Donna,
And her telling me of her Ma’s passing.
Like a Mom and Dad they were to me, Hazel and her husband,“Dad”. My frozen brain cannot recall his first name although it may come to me spontaneously later. Don?
Hazel and Dad bought the house where My Mom’s OB doctor was murdered while I (and certainly Donna) were in utero. My uncle thought of buying this discounted lovely home and yard and Dad and Hazel bought it and raised their family.
So early on, Donna and I have been connected and her Mom and I were equally a part. Her nurturing stay at home Mom attitude. Not June Cleaver mind you. She took no cr*p. She was always quite plain and to the point. Straight as an arrow.
My constant memories of her sitting on the kitchen stool smoking in long contemplative waves and taking it all in.
Just when you thought she had drifted off, she came back with a shot to set you straight. Even in silence, powerful often reserved woman.
Dad has been gone awhile but I loved them both like my parents. It kind of hit me that I have neglected visiting her on home visits but it has been harder for me to connect with others anyway and this is my tribute to Donna’s parents to me a great pair of humans and foundation for children and ancestors with great values.
One word about Dad.
When he had a heart attack Donna and I went to see him.
I was fascinated by the hospital and the technology although crude at the time.
Children under 16 used to be banned from visiting. So when we got old enough to visit it was a sudden shock. Dad looked so old and feeble all of the sudden. Now I know it was a big one. He started to cry. This man who was always larger than life. Sometimes I think that made me want to be a nurse. To comfort the man who is struck down by disease. Powerful one minute and weakling the next, ashamed because of culture. Donna and I held his hand I think. I hope we did. It was a hard moment.
But he recovered and had some good life and I loved his sharp southern language and brilliant curse word combos. I still think about how he worked for Ford and drove those big cars and would have something to say about their current woes.
So let me raise a glass to Donna’s parents and wish their entire family peace and am grateful for Mom having had such a long and graceful run.
Mary