My Most Unforgettable Character

When I was a kid, Readers Digest could always be found in our bathroom (Dad called it The Library). The little magazine book had monthly feature departments, such as "Toward More Picturesque Speech" and "Drama in Real Life." Readers could participate with the submission of humorous and joke fillers as well as a section called "My Most Unforgettable Character". I thought that someday I would write a story about my grandfather or my dad. They were certainly worthy subjects…and still are. I have written of them often. It occurred to me this morning that I have never written about Steve Magin. It surprised me really. He is, in many ways, my most unforgettable character. I would like to share the story with you.

Steve was born on March 13, 1950 in Danville, Illinois. Danville certainly qualified as The American Heartland kind of town. It was surrounded by miles and miles of rich farmland and was the home of burgeoning industries such as a General Motors Foundry. His parents were unusual in that his mother actually worked outside of the house at The VA Hospital. Mr. Magin was an engineer at the local TV station. They were Roman Catholic and their three kids attended Catholic Schools. I lived across the street and down the block from The Magins. We were the same age. It still baffles me that we did not meet until we were eight years old. Even when a new kid named Gary Cox moved in just two doors down from Steve in Second Grade we did not meet. Gary and I both attended Edison Grade School and became fast friends. We watched him over the fence once or twice but never went over to play. There are probably several reasons. They were not Protestants, we went to different schools, our parents were from different social circles with different values. Who knows! The fact is that we did meet. It was a summer day in 1958. My friends and I were playing baseball in The Golden’s side yard as usual when I saw two kids coming down the alley towards us. They just stood there and watched. I don’t know what we might have said, but one of them bent down, picked up a rock and threw it at us. Not all that fair because the alley was covered with rocks and we had no supply. We scattered to a neighbors house and got a bunch of apples while Scott Golden held up the battle. By the time the rock and apple fight was done we were getting called to come home for dinner by inpatient mothers. I was alone the next day when one of the kids came back down the alley. I greeted him by saying “Hi! Where’s your brother?” This was probably more to make certain that the kid I imagined was his brother wasn’t hiding in wait with another barrage of ammunition. He explained that his brother was away at school or something and that the boy from yesterday was a friend of his and not with him right then. It appeared safe so we approached each other, exchanged names and started talking about things that eight year olds talk about. It was the beginning of our life-long friendship that now spans fifty years. What a journey! Steve and I have shared every milestone and mishap. We have been there to listen, laugh and cry with one another. We have been high (in more ways than one) and we have been low. A man named Pavel Florensky said “Friendship love knows a friend not by his outward pose, not by the dress of heroism, but by his smile, by his quiet talk, by his weaknesses, by how he treats people ordinary human life, by how he eats and sleeps". I think that sums up the great gift of our long relationship. I could write volumes about the friendship itself. My intention here, though is to tell you about the unusual character of Steve Magin.

Steve has chosen to live simply. He had every opportunity to embrace The American Dream and live it out to the fullest. He was valedictorian of his private Catholic High School and graduated from The University of Illinois at the top of his class. He was a brilliant mathematician and a talented psychology student. His grasp of statistics made him a natural researcher. He was hired by The United States Department of Defense and became an important procurement officer. Steve was courted by several defense contractors and could have “written his own ticket”. This was not to be. There is a kind of spiritual morality that flows deeply through this guy. It is not the kind of stiff morality that we are used to seeing and hearing. Not the righteous, all knowing religious type that preaches its’ brand of salvation from the pulpit on Sundays or on Christian radio. His lives a peaceful, non-violent, compassionate life that is an observable testimony. Steve has spent and continues to spend his time as a kind of “servant leader’. He believes that all life is sacred and this belief is lived out in everything he does. It is not the work that he did with Educators for Social Responsibility, his peace activism, tax resistance or various “listening projects” that define him. He may be defined by a life lived for others. He has cared for his parents and relatives in long sicknesses. He counsels those who are struggling with every kind of problem imaginable in his beloved North Carolina mountain communities without professional charge. He freely gives his time and ear to anyone who needs him. But even more than all of this…he is better defined by his choice to live in solidarity with those who are impoverished.

Steve Magin has lived in abject poverty for more than a quarter century. He has chosen to do without the material comforts that we have come to believe are necessities. His homes have often been rent free or bartered. They frequently do not have running water, electricity or indoor plumbing. He chops wood for heat and cooking on an old “cook stove”. He labors in the fields, does landscaping, prepares taxes and other odd jobs to supply him with basic food and transportation. He has never owned a car that was worth much more than a couple hundred dollars. This self imposed marginalization allows him to identify with those who do not or cannot access the wealth of our modern society. He also lives like he does to enlighten all of us who know him and all who may encounter him with the wisdom that we do not have to strive for more and more…that we can do with and can enjoy life with less.

I believe that Gandhi is correct in his assertion that “Man becomes great exactly to the degree in which he works for the welfare of his fellow-men”. If this is true, then Steve has attained greatness. He shows us that it is possible to live simply and in service to others which enables us to have the courage to take whatever steps are appropriate to do the same, in some small way, ourselves. This Steve Magin is quite a person and quite a hero. He is my friend. He is my most unforgettable character.

What Makes Life Good?

I was asked by Steven, my terrific step-son, to write a short piece on "what makes life good" for a class that he is taking. Some of the things that I have included are restatements of previous entries. Still...I think they are worth remembering. I love the poem that is included. It was given to me by Alice Richards, a friend of the family. Alice was one of those people who really lived life with gusto. I will never forget her.

What are the things that make life good? My grandfather, Roy Jones, was one who seems to be able to grasp this better than most. He was saying “Life Is Good” as a motto long before it became a slogan. He was able to say it with conviction in the face of great happiness and extreme tragedy in his life. He lost everything that he owned in The Great Depression and lived to see his beloved wife die. A son committed suicide and a daughter struggled and succumbed to TB. A beautiful granddaughter was murdered. Still, he maintained his optimism and love of life. Still he said “Life Is Good!” It is hard for most of us to understand this. How does one maintain such a perspective? I think that it is a matter putting first things first. What really is important? An old man up in the mountains in North Carolina once said to me that he “never saw a U-Haul behind a hearse”. That is true, isn’t it? We put so much emphasis on financial success, the accumulation of possessions, influence and prestige. These, in the long run, mean absolutely nothing. When the scorecard is finally tallied, the only thing that matters is love. Did I love…and was I loved? Were there people who delighted in me and people in whom I was delighted? Did I laugh and celebrate with my loved ones? Did I take time to slow down and appreciate the beauty of everything around me? There was a great little poem called “I’d Pick More Daisies” by Nadine Stair (when she was 85). It goes like this:

If I had my life to live over,

I'd try to make more mistakes next time.

I would relax.

I would limber up.

I would be sillier than I have on this trip.

I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic.

I would take more chances,

I would take more trips.

I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets.

I would burn more gasoline.

I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I am one of those people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I have had my moments

And if I had it to do over again, I'd have more of them.

In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments…one after another instead of living so many years ahead each day. I have been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute.

If I had to do it over again,

I would go places and do things.

I'd travel lighter than I have.

If I had my life to live over,

I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.

I would play hooky more.

I wouldn't make such good grades except by accident.

I would ride on merry-go-rounds.

I'd pick more daisies!

My Dad said that the things we take so seriously today won’t mean a thing in a hundred years. So here’s what sounds good to me. How about a nice glass of wine at sunset on the beach...sitting next to my darling wife…..joined by a couple of great friends…..watching our kids or future grandkids playing in the surf…..flying kites…..with the sounds of some old melody coming from a band in the distance…..getting up to dance a slow one together! Now that’s good. Who loves ya baby?

Changing Attitudes & Latitudes

The news of the day has been filled with catastrophic economic forecasts, anguish and the predictable finger pointing on all sides. The years of work that I have done with kids and adults in trouble makes this mind set seem somehow normal. My clients are experiencing situations that have shaken their foundations and turned their lives upside down. The first thing that we try to adjust, after crisis intervention, is attitude and outlook. This is a realignment of self concept and perspective…and it is critical to change and empowerment.

Developing a positive perspective and positive thinking result in a demeanor that anticipates successful outcomes, happiness, joy, bliss and good health. It is important to visualize and verbalize the constructive and beneficial aspects of every situation. Picture the way that you want things to turn out and move forward as if it has already happened. This will remove roadblocks and negate the comments of those who might not support or appreciate your efforts. Put a positive spin on things by practicing affirmative self talk.

Examples of this might be saying things like:

• This is an opportunity to learn something new!
• There is a solution to every problem!
• I’m going to take a chance!
• There is another way to open up a channel of communications!
• Let’s look at this from a different angle!

Remember to stay away from self blame, avoid making things out as a disaster and that few things are black or white. The Zen Master said that the sky is blue regardless of what we see. He is right. Shades of grey and storms won’t last forever. Hidden behind the clouds is the blue sky. Mishaps and interruptions occasionally block the brilliance of our lives. But, like the rainy weather, will clear away so we can open up to a brighter horizon. I am living and working in Florida right now. It rains a lot…and just before it clears…there is frequently a rainbow. You can count on things getting better. It helps if you participate in the process.

Fiscal Flight

We are awaiting the decisions of our legislators in respect to the country’s economy. There is great angst and controversy surrounding the best strategy for solving the situation. Each side has arguments with merit. Our future and stability rely on putting aside partisan politics combined with a rolling up of our collective sleeves to quickly find short and long term answers to our crisis.

It is important to try not to get discouraged when we find ourselves facing such overwhelming obstacles. It can be easy to feel stuck. Outside forces of life seem to be creating circumstances preventing us from solving our problems. It is easy to blame everyone and everything outside of ourselves. The first course of action is to take a good hard look inside. Personal responsibility for our own financial dilemma must be taken into consideration. Choices that we,as individuals, have made can be corrected. Choices that our nation has made can be corrected as well. The second thing that we must do is to be decisive. It is amazing how often we can get in our own way without even being aware that we are doing so. We cannot afford to STAY stuck.

We are a great people with a sound system of government. It will not fail unless we lose confidence in our ability to persist and endure. We have important things to do. The biggest mistake we can make is to take no action.

Three Gifts

I was given the gift of perspective yesterday. As a matter of fact, there were three gifts.

The first was received during a visit to Covenant House in Orlando. My intention was to volunteer some time helping kids in trouble. That will most probably happen once or twice a week starting in the near future. I fully grasped what I was in for as far as facing the enormity of difficulties and challenges that Covenant House kids deal with every day. They are children who find themselves homeless and often cast away. As such, they have done anything imaginable… and perhaps unimaginable…to survive. This I knew. What I did not realize was how deeply spiritual such a shelter (better called sanctuary) could be. I am not talking about religiously driven at all. Almost every service for homeless folks is sponsored by a church group of some kind. People in residence are often required to avail themselves of the worship and teachings of the parent organization. Not so with Covenant House. It has roots and affiliation with the Roman Catholics but that connection is never part or parcel of the services provided for the kids. They have a spiritual director and offer retreats…but are completely ecumenical in nature. The perspective that I gained was that with all of the pain and struggle there was a deep sense of serenity and love in that place of sanctuary. Lives and outlooks are transformed by people who choose to act out of love rather than fear and with kindness rather than anger. There is no judgment. There seem to be joyous rather than embittered people there. There is a feeling of generosity as opposed to the covetousness that you might expect.

The second gift was received unexpectedly through the miracle of email. I have been blessed with some friends that have been with me since grade school. We have decades of history between us. The political season sparked some interesting, funny and challenging exchanges of electronic thoughts. One of the guys, Joe, decided to expand the discussion to a network of other old friends with whom he communicates. So, without notice, an email was received that had names of several guys who I had not heard from or really thought of in years. All of them go way back into my childhood. The unanticipated reunion was a tremendous treat for me. I more deeply appreciate the presence of friends than ever before. Years of distant separation mean little. The gem that is friendship cannot be overvalued. New friends and acquaintances are great. But nothing compares to old friends. They are family.

The third gift of perspective was given to me by my dear wife. She is a lifelong teacher of kids with special needs. Her tough times are never about her students but surround the administrative folks, co-workers and often parents. She is fiercely dedicated to her pupils. They have her as an advocate for as long as five or six years in her high school contained classroom setting. My admiration for her and for her work is great. I have never known anyone who would go to bat, fight for understanding and battle the system like she does. Bonita was relating the most current struggle with people in charge who were more concerned with protocol than the welfare of one of her kids. She was willing to do what was right in advocacy for the boy at the very risk of losing her job. I am so proud of her…and was reminded of yet another facet of her delightful nature. She is the love of my life.

So there are the three gifts from yesterday. It feels like Christmas.

A September 11 Perspective

This article about September 11, 2001 was written by Mr. Cornel Nistorescu and published under the title 'C'ntarea Americii, (meaning: 'Ode To America ') in the Romanian newspaper Evenimentulzilei (meaning: 'The Daily Event' or 'News of the Day') As we remember the tragedy of that September day in 2001 and recall the great suffering of our nation let us also celebrate the personal freedom that we share in The United States of America;

~An Ode to America ~

Why are Americans so united? They would not resemble one another even if you painted them all one color! They speak all the languages of the world and form an astonishing mixture of civilizations and religious beliefs.
Still, the American tragedy turned three hundred million people into a hand put on the heart.Nobody rushed to accuse the White House, the Army, or the Secret Service that they are only a bunch of losers.
Nobody rushed to empty their bank accounts.
Nobody rushed out onto the streets nearby to gape about.
Instead the Americans volunteered to donate blood and to give a helping hand.
After the first moments of panic, they raised their flag over the smoking ruins, putting on T-shirts, caps and ties in the colors of the national flag. They placed flags on buildings and cars as if in every place and on every car a government official or the president was passing. On every occasion, they started singing: 'God Bless America!'
I watched the live broadcast and rerun after rerun for hours listening to the story of the guy who went down one hundred floors with a woman in a wheelchair without knowing who she was, or of the Californian hockey player, who gave his life fighting with the terrorists and prevented the plane from hitting a target that could have killed other hundreds or thousands of people.
How on earth were they able to respond united as one human being? Imperceptibly, with every word and musical note, the memory of some turned into a modern myth of tragic heroes. And with every phone call, millions and millions of dollars were put into a collection aimed at rewarding not a man or a family, but a spirit, which no money can buy.
What on earth can unite the Americans in such a way? Their land? Their history? Their economic power? Money?
I tried for hours to find an answer, humming songs and murmuring phrases with the risk of sounding commonplace, I thought things over, I reached but only one conclusion...
Only freedom can work such miracles.
Cornel Nistorescu

No Time For Negativity

The challenges and opportunities that face us in these complicated times cannot be met by using devisive smug sarcasm or sardonic humor. The politicians that are seeking leadership positions in The United States should not stoop to such tactics in these times. I find it impossible to imagine Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt or John F. Kennedy wasting valuable time plotting ways to insult or injure rivals when the most important issues of their time were facing them. Lord Kames of England said that no person did a designed injury to another but at the same time did greater to himself. Honesty and humility are qualities that are in short supply. They are character traits that we must demand in this political season. Our new leaders will guide us through the storm or allow us to perish in its’ wake.