Sunday, April 8, 2012

#40 Jesus Christ


Happy Easter Sunday, one and all!!

It is with great pleasure that I conclude my Lenten 40 list today. It was a self-imposed challenge that accomplished exactly what I wanted it to accomplish... to honor 40 people, some known to only a few, and others known to the world, who are deserving of my respect, admiration and compassion, for reasons that go far beyond the fact that they are merely (in some cases) famous.

I lost "friends" over the fact that I was not (in their eyes) suitably mournful and sympathetic over the death of Whitney Houston. In my mind, those who were so caught up in her drama, and were willing to chastise me for my lack of shock and horror over one of the most predictible outcomes in druggie history, are people who I can certainly do without in my life. It was suggested that I didn't know what I was talking about because I "didn't walk a mile in her shoes". Maybe that's because I had enough character and self-control and valued my life enough that I wasn't going to get trapped in the self-indulgent garbage in which she wallowed.

Once I finished writing each of these Lenten 40 posts, the litmus test for me was were they "Whitney WHO???" -worthy. Were these people notable and worthy of respect for genuinely significant reasons? In my opinion, yes, they were. Each and every one.

And that certainly applies to this Man who, of course, I saved for last, and for today.




Jesus Christ is the Son of God, born in Bethlehem in the year 1, to the Virgin Mary and her betrothed, Joseph. There was no room in the inn.... I trust you know the rest.




(Reading Wikipedia, it is amazing to me how many theologian / historian / scientists have tried, over the past two millenia, to determine his exact date of birth and death. I am planning on keeping it simple. He was born on Christmas Day. Sir Isaac Newton figured out the day of death was Friday, April 3rd, 33 A.D. I can work with that.)

Even though His first foray into teaching the masses (pun intended) was as a child in the temple, the majority of His ministry actually happened during the last 3 years of His life.




He journeyed throughout Judea and Galilee, performing miracles, and teaching about His Father and the path to Heaven.

Basically, what He was saying was that we need to love God, and to love our neighbours as we love ourselves. For THIS He was crucified.

It is difficult to grasp how threatening that concept was, in that era. He taught that the only King that mattered was His Father. He feared no law of man. That did not imply lawlessness; it implied that in order to achieve everlasting life, one must follow the Word of God.

Fortunately for us Christians, it's not like the Word of God was telling people to fly jets into skyscrapers in His name...




No. The Word of God was telling people that we should be kind to one another. Not murder each other, nor steal from one another. Honor thy mother and thy father. And fear God.

I think that more often than not, most people try to be kind to one another. But, I really have to wonder, in this day and age, if people really fear God the way we're supposed to. We all, at one time or another, say, "God has no expectation that I do this, or don't do that." Hmmm... I hope I'm right when I profess those assumptions! We're here for a short time, but Eternity is forever.

So, amid all the miracles and parables and teaching, when He was really hitting His stride, Judas Iscariot betrayed Him for 30 pieces of silver, and to make a long story short, Jesus fulfilled God's will by being crucified and dying for our sins.

But, what separated Jesus from all the other prophets was what happened three days later. He rose from the dead and ascended into Heaven, assuring us all everlasting life.





We mark that event today, on Easter Sunday.

God knows I'm no theologian. I am hardly one who can expound in any deep, meaningful way about the effect Jesus' life, death and resurrection has had on mankind. All I know is the profound effect it has had on my life.

As I wrote last year in another blog post about Easter...

Santa gives us presents. The Easter Bunny gives us eggs. Jesus gave His life so that we may have everlasting life. Jesus wins.

To bring this to a close, here is something I hope you will enjoy. The following are two video clips sent to me by a friend, Rhonda, who thought - rightly - that I would appreciate them. The first is a preview of an Imax film about Jerusalem. The second is about an artist's rendition of Jesus rising from the dead, amid the spirits of other Biblical figures. They both are amazing, and I hope you will think so too.

Happy Easter!!! And thanks for coming along on my Lenten 40 ride. I hope it's given you food for thought about those who inspire and move you.








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Friday, April 6, 2012

#39 Florence Nightingale

It would be just plain wrong of me to write a Lenten list of 40 people I admire and respect without including "The Lady with the Lamp",  Florence Nightingale.




Florence Nightingale was a nurse, as well as an author and statistician. She was born in Italy in 1820 to a wealthy British upper class family, during an era when well-to-do ladies excelled at marrying and having children. As it happens, her father was a believer in educating his daughters, and taught her languages, philosophy and history, as well as mathematics and writing.

She was courted by barons, poets and politicians, but rejected their advances because she felt that marriage would interfere with her ability to practice her calling as a nurse. Some scholars believe that she remained chaste for her entire life; perhaps because she felt a religious calling to her career, or because she lived in the time of Victorian sexual morality.

She announced her desire to enter nursing in 1844, and worked hard to educate herself in the art and science of nursing, much to the dismay of her mother and sister. By 1853, she occupied the post of superintendent at the Institute for the Care of Sick Gentlewomen in London.

In 1854, her most celebrated contribution to health care came as a result of her work during the Crimean War. She and a staff of 38 nurses arrived in what is now Istanbul to find what she described as horrific conditions. She and her nurses found wounded soldiers being badly cared for by overworked medical staff. Medicines were in short supply, hygiene was being neglected, and mass infections were common, many of them fatal.

During the war, Florence Nightingale gained the nickname "The Lady with the Lamp", deriving from a phrase in a report in The Times:
"She is a ‘ministering angel’ without any exaggeration in these hospitals, and as her slender form glides quietly along each corridor, every poor fellow's face softens with gratitude at the sight of her. When all the medical officers have retired for the night and silence and darkness have settled down upon those miles of prostrate sick, she may be observed alone, with a little lamp in her hand, making her solitary rounds."



She prepared many reports on the conditions she found, as well as compiling statistics to support her requests for aid from England. She made extensive use of the newly developed pie chart in order to illustrate her points to civil servants who, she believed, would either not read or not understand a typical statistical report.

From Wikipedia:

"In 1860, the Nightingale Training School and Home for Nurses based at St Thomas' Hospital in London opened with 10 students. It was based on two principles: Firstly, that nurses should have practical training in hospitals specially organized for that purpose. The other was that nurses should live in a home fit to form a moral life and discipline. Due to the foundation of this school Nightingale had achieved the transformation of nursing from its disreputable past into a responsible and respectable career for women."

Nursing's "disreputable past" was based on the fact that in an age of moral propriety, the only women deemed suitable to be exposed to illness and difficult conditions without offending their sensibilities were prostitutes.

And, contrary to popular belief, Florence Nightingale herself did not die of syphillis, but suffered from brucellosis, also called Crimean fever, a highly contagious condition caused by ingestion of unsterilized milk or meat from infected animals or close contact with their secretions. She was intermittently bedridden with this illness from 1858 to her death in 1910, at 90 years of age.
 
Florence Nightingale's lasting contribution has been her role in founding the modern nursing profession. She set an example of compassion and commitment to patient care.

She received many awards and honors. International Nurses Day is celebrated each year on her birthday, May 12th.

Her image appeared on the £10 banknotes issued by the Bank of England from 1975 until 1994. She was depicted in both a standing portrait, as well as in a field hospital in the Crimea, holding her lamp.

Beginning in 1968, the US Air Force operated a fleet of 20 "Nightingale" aeromedical evacuation aircraft. The last of these planes was retired from service in 2005.

In closing this tribute to Florence Nightingale, I include here the Nightingale Pledge, written in her honor by a committee from Harper Hospital in Detroit in the 1890's, a pledge taken by all new nurses of the time, a modified version of which is still used by some schools of nursing to this day:

I solemnly pledge myself before God and presence of this assembly;
To pass my life in purity and to practice my profession faithfully.

I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug.
I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession and will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping and family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling.
With loyalty will I endeavor to aid the physician in his work, and devote myself to the welfare of those committed to my care.

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Wednesday, April 4, 2012

#38 Frank Crotty

I'm closing in on the end of my Lenten 40 list of people I admire and respect, and today, it's all about someone who is like my Knight in Shining Armor, like the brother I never had (aside from the two I DO have)!

Frank Crotty, Jr. is the 3rd generation 'Crotty' in Crotty Auto Services. Officially, it's called Napa SomethingOrOther now, but to me, it always has been and always will be "Frank's".




There are people in life whose assistance in our time of need we all take for granted - plumbers, electricians and the like.

Frank and his staff are a team that my family never takes for granted. They have hauled our collective butts out of some sticky situations with vehicles more times that we can count, over the past... I dunno... 20 years or so.

Something happens to my car? I call Frank. Suddenly, my problem becomes his problem, and it gets dealt with like I'm the only customer in the world.

I bought my brand new Honda C-RV in 2003, and once it was driven off the lot, Honda mechanics never laid a finger on it again. No one tinkers with my car's innards except for Frank's guys.




That said, if something came up that was under warranty, Frank will tell me, so I could go that route and not be charged for the repair. In my experience, there are not many who are that honest, that's for sure.

Here it is, 2012, and my nine-year-old C-RV is still purring like a kitten. I'm not even entertaining getting something new. There's no need. Of course, there's a lot to be said for Honda quality, but even a vehicle of the highest quality is not going to last without tender loving - and competent - care.

My sister has known Frank forever. She and Dad have been dealing with him long before I first moved home from Fort McMurray in 1995.

One of the first times I got to know Frank was when I was working on a ship that was sailing in and out of Argentia, out to the Grand Banks and back. I can't remember now what happened to the Jeep YJ that I was driving at the time, but it was something big that was going to take days to repair. All of a sudden, here I was with no means to get back and forth to Argentia. Dad loaned me his car, so I managed to get to my ship, but now he was going to be stuck without his car until I got home.

So, what did Frank do?

Frank got my Jeep fixed, then he drove it out to Argentia, parked it, and drove Dad's car back for him. Unbelieveable.

That was back around 1998, and I'm still awed by it. Talk about going above and beyond the call!

There is always something, though, that can give displeasure, and Frank is no exception. My one complaint of him is that every time they move shop, they move it further away from the East End! When I first knew him, they were on Pippy Place. Then, they moved around the corner and up Kenmount Road, near Kelsey Drive. That wasn't too bad. But then! He moves out around the bay, to Mt. Pearl. Grrr!! He needs to move just one more time, onto Stavanger Drive. Then, all will be perfect!

I'll soon be heading back out to Frank's, with my summer tires in tow, needing to get my studded winter tires off. I'll drop my car off the night before, and put the keys through the slot in an envelope with a note for Frank. These notes have become a lot of fun to write!




Along with what needs to be done with the car, there are usually some vague and colorful suggestions on how I might pay for the services, or some other nonsense, but it's all quite innocent! It's a riot to see how Frank can blush. Haven't quite decided if he's embarrassed, or horrified!

But, their motto is all about giving "miles of smiles", so that's all I'm trying to do, to repay the favor. Frank has been so good to us, it is hard to repay him and his staff, for keeping us on the road, and for knowing without a doubt that if there is car trouble, it's going to be dealt with soon, and well.

Thank you, Frank! Do you want to clear off your desk, or shall I???




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Monday, April 2, 2012

#37 Cassie Brown

When I think of people who have done much to record and preserve the history of Newfoundland, Cassie Brown is one of the predominant people who comes to mind.




Cassie Brown was a journalist and author, born in Rose Blanche in 1919. She is the author of several books about maritime disasters that occurred off our coast, probably the most notable being "Death on the Ice".




"Death on the Ice" is the story of the 1914 sealing disaster, in which 78 men, sealers on the SS Newfoundland, lost their lives in a blizzard while out on the ice. It is not only about the disaster itself, which is described in stunningly vivid detail, but it gives a rich, historical snapshot of the politics of sealing in that era, and the power of the sealing captains, even between father and son.


Captain Abram Kean, thought by many to be responsible for the men marooned on the ice.
His son, Wesley, was the captain of the SS Newfoundland.


When I was in Grade 8, our class was assigned to read "Death on the Ice". Fortunately for me, I had already read it probably three or four times before we ever did it in school. I remember one afternoon at home, reading it while gnawing on a cake of hard bread, the one little thing I could do to try to make it real for me.

As part of that school assignment, it somehow transpired that I got to go to actually visit Cassie Brown at her home. I remember going armed with a list of naive questions, questions that a 13 year old schoolgirl would dream up. I only wish that I had that opportunity now, to have a real conversation with her.

I remember her saying that while she wrote the book, she felt the sealers looking over her shoulder, encouraging her. That image impressed me so much.

For years now, every time I trudge through blizzardy weather, I think of the sealers out on the ice. Nowadays, I think of Burton Winters, too, but for many, many years, it was all about the sealers and their suffering. It makes any brief, chilly discomfort I may feel pale in comparison. For all of us who live here, it gives some sense of what our forefathers had to endure, and just how many died trying to put bread on their family's tables.


The sealers of the SS Newfoundland were left on the ice for 53 hours in a raging blizzard.


As I write this today, there is a blizzard blowing outside and I am homebound. Warm and cozy, lots of food in the fridge, blankets and a thermostat to keep me warm - things that the sealers of 1914, who had the thinnest of clothes and were forced to sleep on the piles of bloody seal pelts could not even imagine. And their circumstances are those that I could not even imagine, without the labor of love of Cassie Brown in telling their story.

Cassie Brown's other books include "A Winter's Tale - The Wreck of the Florizel", "Standing into Danger" about the wreck of the USS Truxtun and the USS Pollux, "The Caribou Disaster and Other Short Stories", and "Writing the Sea", an autobiographical account of growing up in Rose Blanche, including essays she wrote for the Daily News newspaper, one of which was called "Death March", which was the beginning of her fascination with the SS Newfoundland disaster.

I have read some of her other books, but "Death on the Ice" struck the most resonant chord with me. Maybe it was because of my youth when I first read it, I don't know, but I have never forgotten it, or those poor souls of whom she wrote.

I am sure that the spirits of the sealers, who stood over Cassie Brown's shoulder as she wrote, were very satisfied with how well she told their story.

To paraphrase the inscription she wrote for me on Dad's copy of "Death on the Ice"...

Thank you, Cassie Brown, for keeping Newfoundlandia alive.

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