Second Hand Stories

I called Grandma and Grandpa tonight to tell them about the movie Red Tails. These were the stories I got in return, plus one from my friend Brett.

On John Walling:

John Walling was a childhood friend of Grandma's and an only child in his family. He somehow mananged to make it on to Japanese ground, take pictures, and bring them back to Nantucket. Unfortunantly, John was killed later in a submarine. Naturally, most of the Nantucket boys joined the Navy, being seamen and all.

Grandma went on to say that in the basement of Auburn Cottage there is a wooden post with the initials JW carved in them. John had carved these when he was a kid, and Great-Grandma Jones didn't have the heart to paint over it after John died. Grandma said he was one of the nicest people.

I'll have to check that out next time I make it to Nantucket.



Auburn Cottage, where Grandma grew up

On Depth Charges:

Grandma and Grandpa asked me if I'd ever heard of these...and no, I'd never heard of them. Grandpa told me I'd lived a sheltered life. Indeed, I've never lived through a world war. Grandpa explained that the submarines would try to find other submarines. So the German submarine, for example, would shut off all of its power, try to make absolutely no noise, and the American submarine would listen for it, and use their machinery to figure out where the submarine was, and then bomb away at it.

Grandma, who lived on Nantucket Island during the war said that at nights they could feel the depth charges. Auburn Cottage was right on the harbor. They'd get to school the next day and ask each other if they felt the depth charges. Some had, some hadn't, but they hoped they'd gotten the German submarines.



Ginette, Colette, Aunt Anne (mom's sister) and Uncle Jack with an ocean facing picture by Auburn Cottage

On the Tuskegee Airmen:



My friend Brett used to work for a carpet cleaning company and one night he got a call from a house that he didn't realize he was supposed to be cleaning. It was an honest mistake, but it caused him to be quite late to that appointment.

When he got there the man was irritated. To make matters worse, Brett blew a fuse. And to make matters even worse, he blew the fuse again. The very irritated man at this point brought Brett down to the fuse box. On the way down, the man pointed to a photo and asked Brett if he knew what it was. In fact, he did. And he realized that this man was a former Tuskegee Airmen. The irritation melted on the part of the man when he realized Brett knew what he was, and respect grew on the part of Brett, and the entire feeling of the night changed. The man showed Brett a book about the Tuskegee. There were so many more people in the book that Brett expected, until it dawned on him that every single mechanic, personel, etc. were all included in this group and they have reunions every year.

On the desegregation of the U.S. military:

Grandpa said that he was a part of the military when Harry Truman integrated blacks and whites in the military. Grandpa, a northern boy, was in the navy and working in the hull of a ship when a new man came down to work with them. Since he was coming down on a ladder, his feet were the first thing they saw. There was a southern boy down there with my grandfather and as soon as he saw the color of the man's legs he found a phone and called upstairs.

Southerner: Sir, the man coming down here is colored.

Officer: What color is he?

Southerner: Black.

Officer: Well, don't worry, it won't rub off on you. [And he hung up.]

Smile, You Don't Know Who Is Watching

This morning I stopped at my usual stop light on the way to work when that strange feeling you get when someone is looking intently at you came over me. Looking to my right I noticed a pedestrian on the street looking right at me as I waited for the light to turn. I suddenly became very self-aware. What was so unusual about me sitting in my car that it would cause a pedestrian to pause? - I mused. It was then that I realized I was just sitting there in my car with a huge, genuine smile.

I couldn't help it. The guy on the radio had cracked an incredibly witty joke causing me to laugh outloud, alone in my car. But you don't just go from laughing to straight faced, you kind of smile for a while after - and that was the very moment the pedestrian caught me. I guess there is something that gives a pedestrian pause when a person sitting in her car during rush hour traffic in downtown St. Louis is randomly smiling.

With that said, later in the day I came across this:




Enjoy!

Something Strange is Lurking....

My second year of college, I noticed that there was something strange about these people, but I couldn't put my finger on it. There was this...helpfulness, that I just didn't understand. A case in point was this guy in my apartment complex, Will. One of my roommates was not feeling well one day and Will, in his usual Will way, went door-to-door in our appartment complex trying to find her an asprin, or something of that sort. After 20 minutes or so, he did find it for her, and brought it by. But the thing was that Will, and so many others did this kind of thing ALL THE TIME. They seemed to always be on the look out for helpful things they could do, and then they would do it.

This may not seem strange to you, but of course it is important to understand that I was 19 years old, just coming out of one of the most selfish stages of a person's life - here, most notably mine. My friends and I were coming out of the stage of life where you try to get away with as little responsibility as possible, and the bottom line is that YOUR convenience and YOUR wellbeing were paramount. Up until that year, my peers had always been the same age as me.

I had pondered this phenomenon for a while that year. What WAS it that drove these people, so many of them, to be SO helpful ALL the time? Didn't they get sick of it? What ever made them to be that way?

As a backdrop to the series of Stud/ettes of the Month, Will, coincidentally, was the first ever stud of the month. We blew up his picture and posted it prominently on our fridge that Will was our Stud of the Month. My apartment kept him as stud of the month for an entire year because each time we'd consider nominating someone new, he'd do something else so genuinely thoughtful that no one could compare. (So there you have it, Will was the Stud of all Studs of the Month).

A few years went by, and I found myself in France, with a black tag pinned to my chest announcing to the world that I was a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ. As a missionary, my entire life changed. My life wasn't about me anymore. Not my schooling, not my goals. It was about everyone else from sun up to sun down.

Sometimes it was about serving my companion or other missionaries. But most of the time, it was about everyone else. Before my life had been about school work and adventure. I could bury myself in the library to get school work done for hours at a time. But now, I was on the streets talking to people, meeting with people - people who I would NEVER have met in my college life. I am convinced that there is something about representing Christ that causes people to open up much more quickly. There were so many times in meeting with people that they would tell us so much about their interior world. Things that are tender, personal and generally only shared with the closest of friends. We didn't ask for these stories, but I guess when people see that you are representing Christ, that it is their place to share these things with you. I found so many walls inside myself melting. Here were the poor, the tired, the hungry and the humble. So much comprehension of humanity that I didn't know I didn't have. My compassion for others grew.

There are promises that I suspect most missionaries make to themselves about their future. I will never forget this. I will always serve people. I will really listen. I won't let people around me in my future be so neglected as some of these people have been. And you really, really mean it.


(Picture copied from Will's facebook of him on a mission)

The thing is, that you generally come away from a mission a little...different. A little more Will-like. There was some point on my mission that it clicked for me. Those strange service-oriented people - they had all served missions. You see, boys in the Church of Jesus Christ typically leave when they are 19 to serve their missions. The women leave at the age of 19. So when I was 19, my male peers were all gone to serve, and the older ones were, for the first time, part of my peer group. As a 22-year-old, I too joined the ranks of returned missionaries.


(Me as a missionary in Marseilles)

Naturally, most of us fall short of the promises we made ourselves. We go back to school and life. We are still a little...different. But sometimes, those poignant feelings that caused us to become that way dim just a bit, but it is always still there.

But part of being a "Mormon" is that service is part of the program. Everyone is assigned people whom they are to teach and serve. Right now, I've got four ladies assigned to me. I teach one lady, we'll call her Judy for the sake of ananymity. She is much older than me, married, and handicapped with a degenerative disease. She rarely leaves the house, so visits are most welcome, health allowing. I dutifully visit her once a month. Sometimes, I don't. But today I had scheduled a visit with her. She had offered to make me lunch.

Over some homemade meatloaf we discussed life. Her legs are getting worse. Her eyes are getting better. She takes great pride in her garden. I've never seen her at a Sunday service, it is possible that I never will. She is incredibly intelligent and very giving. It was a genuinely enjoyable lunch and that feeling of admiration towards another human settles gently in. As part of my duty, I ask, and in addition try to seek out what her needs might be, and how I can best serve her. I left making the mental note that I need to be back this spring to help her plant her garden.

As I was driving home, I re-realized, just how great doing service for others makes me feel. It has a way of putting me in a profoundly great mood. Not only does it open my eyes and humble me, but it does bring a sense of genuine happiness that leaves its mark much the same way I feel my skin glow and my muscles feel more healthy beneith my skin for hours and days after a good work out. But strangely, service is like exercise, and I forget how great it feels until I do it again and then, the memories flood back of my mission, the promises - this amazing feeling. Remembering awakens the appetite that has been there, unnoticed, all along.

And in that perfect way that Heavenly Father manages to time things in my life, as I opened the New Testament where it is marked and I just happened to be reading in John 13 - the scripture about Christ washing his apostles' feet.

"If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you."

It took me a long time to realize that the strangeness lurking beneath Will and others stemmed from here.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

I first called my grandmother for fashion advice. Funny only because we are not fashionable people. But there was a murder mystery evening for which I was trying to assemble an outfit; it was set in the 1940's.

I knew nothing of 1940's fashion, but somewhere in the process of preparing my outfit, I realized that my grandmother grew up in that era. Surely she would know. I got her phone number from mom and gave her a ring.

In the midst of learning from grandma how they curled their hair, I learned of what a lazy, Sunday afternoon in my great-grandfather's household was like. I learned about the war, and how fashion resembled the war with their padded shoulders and uniform-looking suitcoats. I learned that grandma had saved so many of her dresses for her granddaughters to try one day. She had never, ever mentioned this in all of the days of hauling my mother's old dolls with their chests of doll clothing down from the attic when we used to go to play. In fact, it seemed strange to me that she had thought to do this, and I only knew because I happened to call.

That Christmas my sister Ginette and I arranged a fashion show at grandmas house. We fit perfectly into her old dresses. That phone call started a series of phone calls that continue to this day.

The thing that surprised me most at first was that almost all of my conversations with Grandma ended up being about the war. The war had little meaning to me, but, as it turns out, was so formative to my grandmother and even after all these years, seemed to be something that still is a huge part of her.

I learned of her classmates from the tiny island of Nantucket going off to war. I learned of her father joining the navy and how smart he looked in his uniform. I learned of the ringing of the church bells when the war ended...and black outs...

I am an immigration lawyer, fascinated with all things international. If I had it my way, the whole world would be as abundant as America. My grandmother buys nothing but American goods, and she is stubborn about it. One Christmas, I had to ask, 'Why? Why is it so important that we only buy American things?" I was one of those children who drove her mother nuts by always asking why. Grandma's first response was about how it is important for the American economy. My response was something about why we wouldn't want our commerce to bless the rest of the world. Why would we be so concerned about our country to the point of not purchasing from other countries? Grandma's stern response at last gave me my sought for insight - because she watched so many of her classmates give their lives for this country.

Grandma's support for our country led to receiving gifts last Christmas that were all made exclusively in New Hampshire, and I loved it. Curiously, among the gifts given to her family, were books about an old concentration camp that was in New Hampshire during the world wars. Who knew?

In reading Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet I learned that there were other concentration camps of a different sort during the second world war, camps to which they placed Japanese Americans during the war. I learned of a harshness and paranoia that I had only ever heard vague things about.

I cried so much while I was reading the book that it wasn't necessary to wash my makeup off, as I had cried it all off while reading. The biggotry, the needless hysteria. I am a huge fan of good character development, and this book did a decent job of that...which didn't help the tears.

But also, as an immigration lawyer, clearly I have both a bias and a soft spot for immigrants, the language barriers, the economic struggles, and the social isolation that can be there. This book hit a chord on that level too.

So many of the elements in the story made me think of stories I've heard from Grandma, the ringing of the bells at the end of the war - feelings of elation that rippled throughout America during that time - that I look forward to getting her insights about the treatment of Japanese Americans during the war next time I call.

Studette of the Month - November 2011

I wake up, groggy, feeling like I've been hit in the head by a truck. It isn't a hang-over, it is just the way I feel most mornings. I can barely get my body to shuffle itself down the stairs. I head to the kitchen, expecting to pour myself cold cereal and maybe while I crunch away at breakfast the clouds in my brain will slowly disapate.

As I round the corner into the kitchen my puffy eyes spot a milk shake and a plate covered with cloth. My tired brain registers that Etanim has done it again, she has left me breakfast. A wave of gratefulness registers as I take the breakfast and mosey my waking self into the dining room to eat.


(Photo of actual breakfast left for me this summer)

If this were an isolated event, Etanim probably wouldn't be Studette of the Month. In the two and a half years I've lived with her and Max, she has always been this way.

When I first moved in she asked me if I was excited to live there with them. I was thrilled, actually. She said - we are excited to have you live here with us too - in a thick Spanish accent of course. I couldn't not express to her at the time, and I am sure I haven't since, the gratefulness I felt just being around someone so kind.

The remarkable thing about Etanim is that she is endlessly thoughtful. If I am planning on attending a formal dance, she will have prepared a little gift of jewelry that matches my dress. Dinner often awaits me when I come home from work. Kindness, patience, natural generosity - these are not just things she aspires to, but honestly just who she is.

Max locked himself out of their room last week and I was on my way out to a Halloween party. I had a black wig on with hair down past my waist and a dress that nearly went to the floor. Of course, selfishly I really wanted to go to my party. On the other hand, I could hardly leave a single mother, flustered at the idea that they might need to sleep on the couch until they could figure out how to get back in. Thankfully, I've locked myself out of more than a few doors in my life time, and I couldn't just selfishly leave so I set out to help them open the door. An hour and a half later, with about thirty flicks of this rediculously long hair over my shoulder, she told me to go. She had another friend coming and she didn't want me to miss my party. I felt bad, but she insisted. She insisted and she looked me in the eye and told me she was not just saying that. That is the beauty of Etanim, there is no hidden agenda. She said it, I could feel that she meant it, and she did. But that is Etanim, there she truly keeps the best interest of the people around her in mind. (Thankfully, when I got home, they were safely in their room.)

We are different but similar. Similar in that we both love to travel and have a natural sense of ambition. Different in that she loves to cook and is endlessly creative. She is artistic and loving. She can dance better than I can ever hope for. She has the long wavy black hair I always wished I had. She has that rare ability to be utterly selfless. I wish I could even capture well in this blog entry the levels of genuine human greatness found in her character...but I can't. Just know that this is the tip of a very large iceberg and that it has been, and continues to be an honor and a privilege to associate with this amazing person.

(I'd add a picture, but I can't find one that honestly does her any justice.)

On Civility

I love her authenticity.

The Key to Avoiding Financial Unsuccess

I've been meaning to write this post for quite sometime. You may be aware that I am a bankruptcy (and immigration) attorney in the state state with the highest bankruptcy filings in the nation. What can I say, we are good at our job. As a result, I have met with hundreds and hundreds of people regarding their financial status. I have learned a few things and decided to compile a list of things that may be of help in avoiding financial unsuccess.

(1) Open your mail.

Personally, I think this should be done right after you get your mail, but that is just me. (Who has meet with HUNDREDS of financially unsuccessful people...HUNDREDS...and this is advice number one....just saying...)

(2) Read your mail.

Pay attention to what it says too. I know, I'm so demanding.

(3) Organize your mail.

I recommend buying $10.00 file bins from Office Depot, getting file folders, and labeling the folders. Trust me, it works better than bags of unopened mail.

(4) Have some system of paying attention to where your money is spent.

I.e. - if you have $1,000 left over after paying for your necessecities, do actually know where this money goes. I recommend www.mint.com, but really, what ever helps you pay attention to where the funds go will be great.

(5) Live below your means.

People lose jobs. People get injured, have cancer, etc. It happens. When they get new jobs, they don't always make what they used to. So, if you are going to choose to incur debt, incur debt that could be paid back given the worst case scenario (i.e. unemployment check, $7.25 an hour job).

(6) Pay yourself.

By this I mean, get into the habit of setting aside at least 10% of your income for savings and/or investments. By doing this (A) you are learning to live below your means (i.e. on 90% of your income) (B) It gives you a cushion for later.

(7) Pay attention to interest rates.

A few basics: If you buy something on a credit card and pay it back a few months later, you generally accrue interest. Therefore, paying for it with cash is often a better idea. No interest.

Secondly: It is a wise idea to know how much you will be paying in interest. It just is. So sit down, and do the math. It is worth your time.

(8) Don't marry a loser.

I know this sounds really mean. What I mean to say is, don't marry someone who does not have your best interest in mind. It can come back to bite you big time. When you financially intertwine, their choices affect you too. Not everyone is honest. Also, be considerate of how your spending habits affect your spouse. That is both mature and kind.

(9) Get out of the mind set that a house is a good "investment".

It isn't always a good "investment". Especially not in today's market. People are losing thousands at the drop in house prices. I feel like the "buying a home is an investment" idea came, in part, to convince people that incurring huge debt was a good thing. However, after meeting with hundreds of people about to lose their homes, I don't think it is always a wise finanical choice at all.

Keep in mind that with buying a house, your monthly expenses generally go up. Furnices are expensive to replace. Lawn mowers, snow blowers, and additional furniture often need to be bought. Utilies are higher. Property taxes, home insurance, these are all things that a person doesn't worry about when renting. And, walking away from a home is not as easy as it seems.

PAY ATTENTION TO THE MORTGAGE RATES. When you buy your home, actually sit down and calculate how much you are spending in interest. You may be shocked, and hence motivated to pay it off early.

GET A MORTGAGE THAT YOU CAN PAY OFF EARLY. Some mortgages don't allow you to do this.

(10) Buy a house that costs signifiancly less than what you can actually afford.

This way, when times get tough, you have enough reserves to make it through and you can afford it if your budget unexpectedly shrinks significantly.

(11) Don't get sick.

You know, it is expensive to get sick, then you can't work, insurance rates go up. Not so great for financial success. Just don't do it.

(12) Avoid student loans.

I say this as someone with student loans. But, if you are contemplating taking out student loans consider this. You can't discharge them in bankruptcy. You can't defer forever. They can take your tax returns, garnish your wages, freeze your bank accounts to get their money. And they do. And, P.S., it is about a million times harder to pay them back then it is to incur them. I can say this from experience.

(13) If you are going to modify your home loans consider this:

(a) Banks should all be shot for how shoddy their organizations are run. Trust me on this one.

(1) Not a single person in the entire organization has a clue what is going on.

(2) Even if they do, the next person you will speak to doesn't, and will totally contradict everything the person who knew what they were talking about said. But you will never know who actually knew what they were talking about.

(3) Hence, none of their representations hold much value.

If you are working on a loan modification and they tell you you don't have to pay the full mortgage price for a while, take the difference, and put it in the bank. That way when they deny your loan modification and put your house in foreclosure, you can pay it off....because they never tell you what happens if the loan modification is denied. They just put you in foreclosure.

(14) Buying an expensive car is a dumb financial idea for the most part.

If you can buy it cash, the more power to you. If you can't, don't get a lemon, get something fairly inexpensive but totally functional. Pay it off, and start saving for a new car. When it dies, buy the new car cash.

(15) Don't be overly generous.

That is great that you support your kids till they are 45. You probably feel like an angel. But you aren't. Cut the apron strings. They can literally drive you to bankruptcy if you are not careful. You may have a big heart, but in the end, if you give beyond what you have, you are giving away someone elses money. And that is stealing. Last I read, this isn't a good thing.

(16) Have awesome and supportive family and friends.

This may seem to contradict #15. But it doesn't. Being "overly" generous is not the same as being supportive. Just don't give what you do not have to give. But otherwise, be a supportive network to your family and have a supportive network of friends and family. People lose jobs. If you can lend out your basement to your brother and his wife until they get a new job, do it.

(17) Lastly, have a contingency plan. EXPECT a rainy day. It will come. So, what is the plan?