The Stories of our Life (1/30/2025)

The folks at my church (the Unitarian Fellowship of the Peninsula) have established what are called “Fellowship Circles.” These spiritual circles are approximately eight persons strong, meet twice a month for approximately an hour and a half and discuss a specific topic. The topic this week was “The Stories of my Life.” We were asked to discuss three questions (in a round).

The questions were:
1. Tell us a story from your life that tells us something about where you came from.
2. Tell us a story from your life that tells us something about what you are.
3. Tell us a story from your life that tells us something about where you are going.

If you read my blog regularly, my possible answer to the second question should be familiar to you; this is what this blog mostly is about. I could have given four stories that address question 1. One of the stories is about the kid that was killed for stealing a pig. This happened in Uganda (1978) and the event is still haunting me. The other stories include one on how my career started; secondly about the first kiss my wife and I exchanged in 1976 while skating on the ice between Gouda and Rotterdam; and lastly the labor riots in Curacao 1969 and what this eventually led to.

Let’s start at the beginning: Curacao. I was 15, when on May 30, we were on lunch break at our high school. We were standing just outside the gate of our school, having just returned from buying some snacks at the Portuguese shop (toko, or convenience store) across the street when a huge crowed of angry protestors marched by the school on their way downtown. I was personally blown away from seeing all these angry faces walking by and so many! The school closed down and I think it was my father who picked me up. We lived on top of a hill fairly far removed from downtown (20 or so miles) but that afternoon we watched dark billowing clouds of smoke rising from the town (Willemstad). It later appeared that downtown was partially destroyed and put ablaze by the rioters. I read reports that eventually 432 rioters were arrested. Based on those numbers you can imagine how many rioters I saw that faithful morning passing by our school. The islands went into martial law for a week, and I remember 1) family friends coming over to stay with us, to be far enough from the epicenter of the riots, 2) with my father franticly driving around the island trying to find an arms dealer or some place where he could buy a weapon to defend the family, and 3) being safely at home with my scared parents and their friends. The name of the leader of the rioters was called Pappa Godett. You can just imagine what the white minority on the island was joking about or hoping for.

A little background, we had lived in the Congo and although we had not gone (suffered) through the independence war in that country (read Atwood’s “Poisonwood Bible” or Naipaul’s “A Bend in the River”). Many of my parents’ old friends (yes, white colonialists) had and had shared the horror stories with them. These riots scared my parents shitless, enough that they started panicking. Eventually things settled down, but my parents had enough; they decided to move back to the Netherlands. They stuck me on a plane in early August to start my 3rd grade (9th for those readers in the US) in high school (the move put me back one grade). I was sent to live with my aunt and her four daughters (two more or less my age) for the first few months and was reunited with my family in December of that year.

You can imagine how this shaped me. I had just discovered girls, already fallen in love at least twice and now had a steady girlfriend. These riots pulled me away from it all, my beloved island, its culture, my friends and my girlfriend. It changed my life forever, setting a course for who I am now, not better or worse. It just made me who I am today.

Stay tuned, I will write more about the next two stories that shaped me. Who knows, I may even write the story of my future in one of these posts; however, I hinted at it in my previous two posts about the workshop with Clay Jenkinson. Conversely, the current political happenings make me feel that I cannot and should not keep my mouth shut; I still have so much to say. In other words, my life stories may be interspersed by some more social and political commentary.

Yorktown Battlefield, a place where at least two battles were fought and a lot of stories were told, and lives were shaped.

Appomattox (4/28/2022)

We visited Appomattox Court House the other day. A quick history lesson, this is the place where the Civil War officially ended, and General Lee signed the treaty that officially ended the war. Now I am no scholar of history and definitely not of the Civil War, but I am just amazed by what learned there about what transpired in the end.

It seems that Lee finally decided that it was over for him, and that any continuation would lead to useless bloodshed; that it was best for both parties to end it. So, the surrender was negotiated, and it was signed it Appomattox. General Robert E. Lee met with General Ulysses S. Grant and from what I learned form my visit, the meeting was cordial between two generals who cared much about their troops. Lee wanted to make sure his troops did not go end up looting the countryside and Grant made sure they were not taken prisoners of war but allowed to go home and their family. This is so different from what we see and hear now on television from what is happening on television about Ukraine and the war crimes committed by Putin and his soldiers.

It seems that when Lee and Grant met, they were exchanging war stories and other tales. They had so much fun and were even joking around, that after an hour or so they had to be reminded that they were there for some serious business and to sign the surrender documents of the South to the North. Two generals who had been fighting tooth and nails were able to put things beside them and had fun during this serious moment when the south gave up its ambition. Later on, Washington Lee University was established, in a way of reminding folks that this was one country (again).

One of the random pictures I took during my visit in Appomattox this past week.  I recommend this to everyone, whether you are interested in the Civil War or not.

Leaving Appomattox, the thought just blew us (my wife and me) away how a New York City con artist has been able to rally folks in the south behind him, to believe that he was the next coming of Christ and therefore to vote for him as president. Since he was omnipotent, he could sleep around, grab them by the pussy, lie, and do whatever he wanted without consequences. Thanks to this con artist people now have less respect for their fellow humans; folks stormed the capital in order to stop the peaceful change of government; lied about the elections; there is less chivalry and comradery in this country then there was during Lee’s time, during the civil war. It makes you wonder doesn’t it; are we even more polarized now then back then, and is it all thanks to this con man? An emphatic YES here!

They say, “if you don’t learn from history, you are bound to repeat it.” I honestly wish we would repeat it and the past president would go away peacefully and behave like a gentleman. I have read commentaries which wonder whether another Civil War is near. Brace yourself folks, if so, I am afraid it is going to be a Putin/Ukraine type war as opposed to a more gentleman type war as was fought in the past Civil War, and as we know that was no boy scout trip.

Charlottesville (8/21/2017)

I am Charlottesville!  I visited Charlottesville last week on my way to one of my teaching gigs, upstate.  It was only two or three miles out of the way, so I felt like I could do it.  Leaving town, the car I got was tuned to an AM station that played the rightwing character known as Rush Limbaugh.  His discussion was upsetting calling the people that want the removal of the confederate status worse than ISIS who are destroying the museums in Syria and Iraq.  It was nauseating!  No mention of course that a lot of these statues were put up in the Jim Crow era, as a direct result of the voting rights act and the end of school segregation in the 1960s.  They were a kind of “in your face” statement to the black community at the time.  Here in Virginia, black kids have to go to General Lee Middle School every day; if that is not in your face!

Driving down Monument Avenue in Richmond for the first few times I was in awe, the statues are beautiful and I did not really look at what they depicted or stood for.  It helped that I am a foreigner and was not really educated about the U.S. Civil War that much.  For us Europeans it was more about the War of Independence, and living in Yorktown that is just amplified.

But I have become much more sensitive to the racial relationships.  I often jokingly call myself the token or sometimes the only "real" African American.  I was born in Africa and I am a U.S. citizen.  But I am as white as any other full blooded Caucasian. 

So why did I go to Charlottesville?  I went for three reasons:

1. To pay my respect to Heather Heyer and the spot where she was killed.
2. To pay my respect to the town I like a lot, Charlottesville is a great, liberal town.
3. For myself and to symbolically poke those KKK-ers, Neo-Nazis and Alt-Right criminals in the eyes and metaphorically kick them in the testicles.

This last point was particularly important to me after listening to the radio and after a weekend of hearing Trump saying that both sides were at fault and that what he called the alt-left were violent as well.  There might have been a few, but the counter protesters were resisting fascism, racism, anti-Semitism, and discrimination against women. 

HBO was showing that the right wing groups were marching and chanting the following three slogans:

1. Jews will not replace us
2. You will not replace us
3. Blood and soil

The first and the third are direct quotes of slogans that were chanted in the 1930s under the fascist Nazi regime of Hitler (anyone want to buy my tiki-torches?  I am not sure if I can ever light them again without having to vomit).  The result was the gas chambers.  I had an uncle who died in a Nazi concentration camp and a father who spent time in one.  That is why I stand with the people resisting the rightwing wingnuts.  We need to squash them and that is why I dare to say that until Trump changes his tune, as a son of a father who spend time in a concentration camp and a nephew of an uncle who died in one, he is not my president.

Procrastinators Unite (5/19/2016)

Why do we procrastinate?  Beats me, and I even do it at times. 

At work there is another deadline looming and man does it get me riled up.  I work in a certificate program that is in place for 17 years or so, and people's certificate expire either on May 31 or November 30.  About 300 every half year.  Their certificate is valid for 3 whole years.  People have certain requirements they have to fulfill to the eligible to recertify, like taking classes during those three years, enter them in a tracking system and pay a small fee.  Well if you look at the date, you know: THE END IS NEAR!  Just today, I already got three emails from people who have not taken one class yet and have 13 days left to get them all in.  Fun!

This is one thing we seem to procrastinate very well: :The end of war", where we will save the lives of young men.
This is a quote on the memorial bridge over the James River in Richmond from Browns Island

Frank Partnoy writes in his book “Wait, the Art and Science of Delay” that procrastination may be good, at least when it comes to making a decision.  I can see that, on the battlefield, in sports, and in making stock decisions; maybe even in photography, taking that perfect shot.

Susanna Halonen argues in her blog in Psychology Today that procrastination actually improves your productivity and happiness:

1. You can therefore concentrate on other (important) things and those things are getting done leaving more time for the thing you procrastinate.  (personally I find this a little farfetched, but OK).
2. Unnecessary tasks disappear with procrastination. (I'll buy that).
3. Procrastination shines a light on what is most important to you. (maybe).
4. Procrastination makes you more creative. (Yes, I can really see that).
5. Procrastination helps you make better decisions. (Partnoy agrees with that)
6. Procrastination leads to better apologies. (I like this one, and yes I have seen some good ones, even the ones like "I started my last online course at 10 pm om May 31 and the Internet went down" ... oh well).

But you could be lying to yourself as Dustin Was suggests in his article, and that is often where I see the people that I deal with.  It is so difficult not to call them out, to rub their noses in it.  Tell them they are full of crap!

Why do I procrastinate?  Looking inward, my excuse is often motivation and inspiration, not because I know I would be making better decisions or have better apologies; I don't go to war.  Halonen's point 4 speaks to me; once inspired and once it flows I can be darn creative!  Points 2 and 3 are also up there.  But once I am inspired watch out, then my motivation kicks in higher gear.  Like earlier this week when I was working on a new course that I was designing.  It was fun, I was going strong.

However, I am different, even when I am inspired.  I need to think and mull things over (as I also describe <here>).  Sometimes I only get one or two slides developed in a day and I can just sit there and think of how to the class is going to go; about what is next.  It is fun and sometimes very exhausting.

Oh my god I just came up with a great apology why I procrastinate with the development of a new class!

Newport News Park (3/22/2015)

It is always absolutely wonderful to go for a walk in Newport News Park.  We drove to the entrance along Jefferson, and decided to take our regular walk backwards and visit the swamp to look for bird.  When were walking along the swamp we got the wild hair up our but to walk home from the park a walk that was approximately 5 miles.

The walk we took was fun.  We ran into all kinds of interesting things.  The following photos are just an example what we ran into: evidence abound about beaver activity.  The three photos below show the swamp that is partially dammed of by beavers.  I like the black and white picture a lot, but you can see the evidence of beaver in the foreground of the color picture.  Further along the trail you see the stumps of trees that look like sharpened pencils sticking out of the ground.  Again evidence of beavers handy work.  Park rangers are obviously trying to protect trees and there are a lot of trees that are wrapped with metal screening material; guess that beaver teeth don't like to gnaw on metal.  The last picture shows the lake that was obviously created by their activity.

The park is also the site of the struggle between the north and south during the civil war (and also the revolutionary war); and there is evidence of fortifications everywhere.  It is amazing to see all the trenches.  As one of the signs say, it must have been boring trying to defend the lines along the Warwick River.

After crossing into the National Park it was a scenic walk through the woods and we were finally able to cross the swamp to the union side where we were welcomed by an egret.

It was a pretty and also a pretty darn long hike, that we have done before by bike, but never by foot.  Worth the trouble.

Farmville (9/29/2014)

After a weekend of traveling and cycling on the eastern shore, it was "on the road again" but now for work.  My job took to me Farmville, about an hour and a half southwest of Richmond.

I really think Farmville is a great little town, with Longwood University.  I applied for a job at Longwood two time, but obviously was rejected, and the only other thing I know about it is that one of the dorms burned down the year we moved to Virginia.  In addition to the University, Farmville is famous for it's (now mostly defunct) furniture manufacturing and the famous High Bridge Bike trail. The photo for today was taken on High Bridge on Monday night.

The bridge it self is an amazing 2400 feet (730 m) long and 125 feet (38 m) high.  It was constructed over the Appomattox River and flood plain in 1854, and it is a site of one of the civil war battles.  Currently, the rail line has been converted to a rails-to-trail site and it is wonderful biking in the area. My round trip from Farmville across the bridge and back was just a little over 10 miles and the trail is flat. I took the photo below using the HDR setting on my cell phone near the middle of the bridge.  For this occasion I obviously brought my mountain bike.  The trail is fine gravel and a normal bike with wider tires is needed.  My road bike with very narrow tired might have worked, but this was great.

Farmville has other attractions too.  I particularly like my lunch spot, "the Bakery", which has a European flair and great sandwiches.  I had a good visit.

Richmond (2/19/2014)

Today I took a walk in the canal street park in Richmond.  Crazy, but the information on my phone says it is a rainy day, boy are they wrong.  It was nice and sunny with temperatures finally at a decent level, although there are still a few heaps of dirty snow visible in town.

Instead of going my usual left, I went right for a change, towards the Civil War Center.  Walking back along the river there is a small causeway from where you can look back on town from above the James River, from where this picture of downtown is taken.  In front of course is the James River, then the CSX line and the big building is the Federal Bank Building.  The cause way is neat, it has all kinds of quotes from civil war soldiers on it and it gives you an interesting flavor.   It is amazing how big the Civil War is in the psyche of this state; but then as a foreigner I should understand that because we still talk about the 2^nd World War.

As you can see, the James is fairly full at the moment; it has been a cold and relatively wet winter here.  I think a lot of us will be very happy when spring comes around.  Just looking at my own yard, we usually have daffodils by now.  The first ones are usually flowering by early January.  At the moment none of them are even close to breaking bud.  Today was a fun teaser, but it felt oh so nice.