THE ANOINTING …

19 Feb

I grew up in the church …

That beautiful old church with the stained-glass windows surrounding the sanctuary was one of several my great grandfather founded in North Carolina. He lived in that small city, raised his family there, practiced law there, went back to school and became a Baptist minister and offered many a sermon in that church years before I was born. I never met him but he was a unique individual who did some astounding things in North Carolina and took time some afternoons to do pencil sketches with a great degree of talent. Passed along to me as the last remaining family member, in addition, I’m told, to his artistic talent, I have a delightful pencil drawing he did of a flop-eared dog that is over 100 years old. This spring I plan to visit that lovely old church, speak to the congregation and pass along some family heirlooms to the church’s History Room, including that pencil sketch. It’s important to me to do that.

By the time I was born, my grandmother was the matriarch of the church. She exposed me to my very first protest as a pre-school child when she organized the church woman to march upon the building site of a soon-to-be-built pizza restaurant across the street. They arrived dressed to the nines, wearing orthopedic shoes, church hats with veils and carrying signs with words like STOP THE PIZZA RESTAURANT emblazoned across the surface. One of them brought a drum that she willingly pounded with enthusiasm. In today’s world they would have definitely been skilled assets.

In spite of their furor and determination, the pizza restaurant was built anyway but failed to thrive. The church, however, continued on, is alive and productive with many of the local faithful continuing on today, making even more positive history.

As a very small little girl, my very first memory of that church was of a small, little girl-size toilet in the women’s bathroom. I used to LOVE using it and made a trip there every Sunday just so I could take my special place on that unique ‘throne.’ Many years later when I took my husband to visit the church while returning home to Virginia from a trip, the first thing I took him to see was that little toilet in the women’s bathroom exactly as I remembered it.

So, the church has always been a part of my life and that ancient “family church’ especially. With faith I have never truly felt alone.

Many, many years later at the end of my nursing career I took an early retirement. One year and 9 months later I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was unexpected, primarily because NO ONE on either side of my family had had any kind of cancer except an uncle who had smoked an average of 3 – 5 packs of cigarettes a day, give or take, from the age of 13. I never really counted him as a family member with cancer because his diagnosis was clearly a case of ‘cause and effect.’ So, I was the first.

I went for a repeat mammogram on a Friday morning, stayed for a biopsy, had a preliminary diagnosis of breast cancer and, even though I wouldn’t get a pathology report until Monday, the mammography doctor was 99% certain we were looking at a cancer. No one who has not had that experience can imagine the jumbled thoughts, the confusion, the fear and the anticipation associated with that sudden diagnosis. It was a very long and anxiety-filled weekend but waiting for results always is.

The pathology report on Monday confirmed my worst nightmare and there followed a full year of 6 months of chemotherapy, hair loss, wigs, 33 radiation treatments, determination and love from my husband and support from family and friends.

In the midst of all that was frightening, exhausting, extremely difficult, treatments, hair loss and wigs, there were so many positives … like finding a special strength I didn’t know I had and learning that we can’t imagine just how strong we are until we HAVE to be. I learned so much about myself.

At the end of treatment, I began speaking at seminars and events about breast cancer, mammograms and early detection. I hosted a local television talk show for 6 amazing years, I wrote and published 2 books, managed to use the untapped talents I had been given and felt I had done almost everything I ever thought I might want to do. It was one of the most life-changing and positive experiences I could imagine. 18 years later I realize how truly blessed I’ve been.

I somehow got sidetracked with this, remembering my childhood and my family’s church that are still so precious to me. Where I intended to go with this post is this: the Friday after my certain-to-be positive biopsy for breast cancer, I asked our minister on Sunday morning if I could speak to him after the service. When the sanctuary was quiet and empty, my husband and I went with our minister and his wife to his office and I explained my diagnosis. Kind people that they were, they were understanding and encouraging and let me talk as long as I felt I needed to. Having that discussion in the stillness and quiet of the empty church was significant and calming.

As my husband and I were preparing to leave, our minister asked, “Would you like to be anointed?” Even growing up in the church I don’t remember being aware that church members could ask for that ‘service’ and actually be anointed.

Anointing is a ritual of divine blessing that pre-dates current history. Anointing with aromatic oils encourages health and divine blessings. Jesus was anointed by unknown women several times throughout the Bible and on several occasions, the last as part of preparing him for burial following the crucifixion.

I immediately answered our minister by saying, without hesitation, “YES.” It only took a few minutes.

In the few days before that Sunday morning my anxiety had grown to unimaginable proportions and I realized for 2 days I’d been holding my shoulders so rigid and high they almost touched my ears. When our pastor put that tiny bit of oil on my forehead in the quiet of his office in the empty church, I instantly relaxed my shoulders and felt the heavy weight of those past 2 days simply melt away. Even though purely symbolic, it felt freeing and physical and very personal … and today, still difficult to describe, it was one of only two experiences like it I’ve had in my life. I don’t question it and I don’t attempt to explain it. It simply WAS and I have been forever grateful for it.

This past Sunday our current minister’s morning service was A Service of Healing.  He offered the congregation an opportunity, if they wished, to be anointed during the service. Not planning to speak, I raised my hand and asked if I could share something. Our minister nodded and I related the story of having been anointed by our previous pastor those many years ago, the meaning I associated with it, the almost metophysical experience it had been and the immediate relaxation I felt upon having that first small drop of oil put on my forehead.

Our pastor thanked me for sharing and extended an invitation to anyone wishing to be anointed. My husband and I were the first.

When we turned around, we were surprised to see every person in church in a line waiting to be anointed. My husband said quietly, “Look what you did!”

We were the last to leave the church and our minister told us he was never so overwhelmed as he was to look up and see EVERY person in church standing in line waiting to be anointed. He thanked me again for sharing my experience from so many years ago following my breast cancer diagnosis … and the feeling it gave me of relief and relaxation … and being blessed.

I’m forever grateful that my husband and I shared the experience at church on Sunday … together and with everyone else there.

Faith, I think, is what we truly feel and believe in our hearts. You don’t have to be born into a  ‘family of a church’ to have faith but if we have it, we are richer for it  Best of all you will experience the blessings of having a ‘church family.’

What I experienced when anointed all those years ago that shouldered some of my diagnosis and made my burden lighter wasn’t supernatural or metaphysical. I believe it was due to the strength of faith.

I am so looking forward to our trip to North Carolina in the spring … visiting my family’s church … smelling the pleasant scent of enduring things that are old and well loved … closing my eyes and bringing back so many memories and revisiting my childhood.

Among the things I look forward to most is stepping through the door of the women’s restroom, seeing and maybe sitting on that much loved and remembered small ‘throne’ to the right of the door … and feeling like a princess again.

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‘AMERICAN  ICONS.’  Thank You, BUDWEISER ….

27 Jan

This is my opinion only but, for what it’s worth, a startling number of people are feeling the weight of how I feel (and HAVE felt) lately. Like a beloved elderly parent or relative descending into dementia, this country has been descending into madness, culminating in the events of this past weekend and just a few weeks before it. Two young people lost their lives at the hands of ICE agents currently ‘occupying’ Minneapolis, MN.  I won’t … well, CAN’T … go into any of it because it breaks my heart, not only for the lives so unnecessarily taken but for the environment that has allowed these events to happen. If you were alive this weekend and own any kind of device upon which you are able to access news, then you KNOW.

I couldn’t stop crying all day on Saturday.

After the initial shock, while not USE to the idea of it, I think we just cocoon ourselves  away from things that rip us apart emotionally and threaten our tolerance and our sanity. Now, on Monday, the only thing I’m allowing to distract me and bring my tears back are commercials about very sick children (thank you for all you do, St. Jude’s) and animals left out in the cold without food or shelter (thank you Humane Society for saving the lives of abandoned and abused animals).

I had set aside today to write this month’s blog but this morning I couldn’t remember that really cool topic I’d planned to write about. So here I am. And this will probably be one of my shortest blog entries since I began blogging in December 2003. But it really doesn’t need to be a long piece. For me, it just needs to “be.”

Facebook was probably the last place I needed to go today but as administrator of a couple of Facebook pages I really needed to drop by and update those pages. I’m glad I did.

I briefly ran through the FB Newsfeed and stopped at something that caught my eye. Super Bowl Sunday is coming up on February 8 and is being hyped in advance as it always is, plus there’s a little bit of extra stuff tossed in there to grab our attention, like the president vowing he won’t attend because he doesn’t agree with the entertainment. That’s cool. I’m pretty sure he has something else to do that day and so do all those Secret Service guys that precede him and trail behind him everywhere he goes. AND that will cost the taxpayers a little less on February 8 so everything is good.

The Super Bowl commercials are ALWAYS big attention grabbers and like that advanced hype I mentioned, some of the better commercials are ‘leaked’ in advance. Some of them are pretty amazing and I’ve been known in the past to watch the game just so I can see the commercials. This is what caught my eye:

BUDWEISER / SUPER BOWL LX COMMERCIAL “AMERICAN ICONS’

So, I clicked on the link.

True to the title, the commercial begins with a Clydesdale pony – a true American icon. I won’t make this a spoiler by telling you more about the commercial. You should see it for yourself … and feel the emotion … the beauty of it … and the KINDNESS. It is indescribable and, anyway, you can’t be TOLD about it. You have to experience it personally and FEEL it.

Budweiser must have the cleverest advertising team on the planet. They always seem to know, not just what will sell beer, but what will touch our hearts and how to bring us beauty and joy. This year their Super Bowl LX commercial also brings us  KINDNESS.

Maybe it’s just me and the fact that I was so needy today of kindness … of some reminder of how America use to be. Today that was brought to me in a beer commercial featuring subtle, yet powerful American icons.  

I don’t know how many times I watched it but that’s how many times I cried. A big release caused by seeing something positive and beautiful beginning with a baby horse.

For whatever reason you may choose to watch ‘American Icons’  … the beer, the fun of watching something different or the personal message you may find in it, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Budweiser knows how to grab our attention.

Thank you, Budweiser for a moment of beauty and kindness today. You know how to touch our hearts when we need it.

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Lust and the Leopard Coat …

29 Dec

The Cardinal Sins, or 7 Deadly Sins include greed, pride, wrath, sloth, envy, gluttony and lust. These 7 are referred to as Deadly Sins because they are considered destructive to the soul if not repented and forgiven.

Many years ago, I remember a public and apparently extremely newsworthy conflict between televangelist, Rev. Jerry Falwell and presidential candidate at the time, Jimmy Carter. Rev. Falwell was appalled by a Carter interview comment suggesting he (Carter) had “Lusted in his heart.”  As well as I remember, Mr. Carter’s ratings fell fairly significantly and Carter balked at Falwell’s comments. There was much news coverage and discussion about the whole thing and jokes among friends all over the place about that ‘in the heart lusting’ thing. I was young at the time and don’t remember the situation or the context of the controversy but I DO remember the hub-bub surrounding Falwell’s comment.

Mostly I remember it because Rev. Falwell was born, raised, started his religious empire right here in OUR city and resided here so news that involved him  REALLY  involved him here in local news because he was our number one celebrity. He kept Lynchburg, VA on the map  and in the news.

The context really isn’t important to this post but when I was sitting down at the computer to write this, I suddenly remembered Jerry Falwell and Jimmy Carter at odds, quite publicly … and with a furor here … because of the LUST thing. And the lust thing, that part of the list of 7 Deadly Sins is the basis of this blog. (How’s that for trotting the horse around the barn to get inside?)

CATO Fashions is my FAVORITE women’s apparel store. I shop for clothing pretty much exclusively at the local store and during the pandemic I began shopping through the on-line catalog. Looking at my computer screen filled with photos of the latest fashions and making a rare purchase from time to time … rare because no one really knew if we would be sequestered indefinitely at home wearing sweats or if life as we’d known it would eventually return to the COVID-weary.

In the on-line catalog in October, I noticed and kind of liked an animal print full length coat. I didn’t linger on the coat for 2 reasons – 1) I didn’t NEED a coat, and 2) I’ve never been excited by animal print. It can be overused in a leopard-like minute and make the wearer TACKY in less time than that, so I moved on. EXCEPT every time I got a new catalog the coat was there and every time I lingered long enough to check it out again.

In November I needed a cocktail dress for a once-a-year party my husband and I attend during the Christmas holidays so I went to CATO and found the PERFECT dress. As a matter of fact, wearing that dress was sort of “magical,” The dress got more compliments than I can remember and when I sent a photo to CATO of me at the party wearing that magic dress, CATO immediately used it in the CATO Gallery in their catalog. What an honor and a surprise.

Like the exciting mystery sack Santa drags from house-to-house on Christmas Eve, that magical cocktail dress that I was carrying out the door of the store in a CATO bag seemed to tug me in the direction of (when what to my wandering eyes should appear) a rack to the right of the door. And ON that rack hung the leopard coat. I would swear my feet left the floor and I floated from the door to the rack. The coat was far more attractive than it had been on my computer screen and although they only had 3 in sizes too large for me, I felt compelled to put down my purse and the magical dress in the bag and try on the coat.

What happened next can ONLY be described as a supernatural experience.

The coat was soft … really soft. I slipped it on, pulled that soft plush collar up around my chin and the store, the garment racks and the mall outside disappeared – replaced by stars and fireworks and colors and the sounds of angels singing, “Ta Da.” The sequins on the magical cocktail dress rustled in the bag. I took the coat off and the magic was broken. I floated to the car and told my husband that I’d just had an epiphany. I wanted that coat.

I enjoy clothes primarily because my 38-year career as an OR nurse, while exciting and rewarding, was spent … every minute of those 38 years … wearing scrubs, looking like all the other nurses AND the doctors AND the orderlies.  We were like (Star Trek reference here) the BORG … we were part of The Collective. Since taking an early retirement, being able to wear personality-reflecting garments has been a joy. Even experiencing that particular joy, only rarely does a specific garment REALLY become a focal point of daily living (obsession?) for me. At the risk of repeating myself, I REALLY wanted that coat.

The local store did not have my size. My size no longer was available in the catalog. The epiphany had come too late.   

I called all 8 stores in the state of Virginia and found only ONE coat in my size in a store in a town 45 minutes away. The clerk I spoke with said she would hold it for me but we didn’t have time for a 100-mile round trip drive to get the coat.

I began watching the catalog … checking several times a day hoping someone would return a coat in my size, but nobody did. My husband offered to drive that 100-mile round trip to get the coat for me as a birthday gift but I couldn’t ask him to do that since I knew how busy he was and I really didn’t need a coat.

SUDDENLY, like a bolt from that same ‘blue’ where the fireworks went off and the angels sang to me of leopard coats that were surly manufactured in heaven, I was hit with a realization. I suddenly understood Jimmy Carter’s alleged Lusting in his Heart condition. There  obviously WAS such an ailment and I HAD it … I was deep in the throes of one of the 7 Deadly Sins. I rationalized that the only cure (the dictionary said that LUST was destructive to the soul) was repentance and forgiveness and the only path I could see to repentance was BUYING THAT COAT.

SO … riding along with my husband on his trip to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription, I asked him to drop me off at CATO. I went in and they still had 2 coats one size larger than my size and one even larger. I tried on one of the 2 smaller ones. Again, as the first time I tried on the coat, it was too large. Closing my eyes and holding my breath, I slipped into the other one-size-larger one and …. as happens only once in a miracle … the second coat, just an infinite bit smaller, FIT.

I was so excited when I made the purchase, the sales person asked me a question I hadn’t been asked since I was a child, “Would you like to wear it home?” Resisting the urge, I carried it out to the car in a large CATO bag. On the ride home I kept my hand inside the bag on the soft fabric of the coat. My husband smiled and said he was happy that I was happy. Somewhere that choir of CATO angels was singing.

It’s been hard to take the coat off or not to keep trying it on. Today I wore it for the first time and it felt every bit as good as it did the first time I tried it on way back in early November when  the room disappeared and the angels sang.  

Apparently, I was also absolved of any possibility of damaging my soul to the point of destruction and I repented for my side trip into the Lusting in My Heart  Zone. I believe I was forgiven (I think). This was my first time on that side of lusting and I took the situation in hand and believe I stopped it just in time, grateful that I’d only crossed into the Twilight Zone of ONE deadly sin. I’m not sure I could have dealt so well with sloth or gluttony at the same time.

This morning, I pulled that soft collar up under my chin and walked out into the world. In that moment all was right with that revolving sphere, if only for a little while,  as viewed from the warmth of a leopard coat.  And the angels sang and sang.

Somewhere Jimmy Carter was smiling.

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And Then the Dentist Sang …

17 Nov

I’ve been writing a blog for 12 years and the thing that makes my heart happiest, right after having people actually READ what I write, is having even one person respond that something I’ve written has touched them in some personal way or they’ve had a similar experience and my blog resonated with them. I’ve come to believe that what happens to us probably has happened to someone else or a number of someone elses even though it feels very personal and unique to us.

This blog I’m about to write is different. I’m betting dollars to doughnuts that this is an experience that only I have had even though someone else may have had something similar. I’m of the firm belief that NO ONE has had exactly this. You can let me know but I doubt that I will hear from anyone. Your comments are always welcome, though, even if it’s just to say, “Heck, NO! That has NEVER happened to me, you whack-o.”

This has been a weird year.

Politics aside, there has been one unpleasant thing after another since January when I had a bout with diverticulitis, followed almost immediately by an abscessed tooth and immediately following that, our 19-year-old cat had 2 back-to-back bladder infections, both requiring weekend trips to the local Emergency Veterinary Clinic. Both times she was given antibiotics and an injection for pain. The second pain medication, prescribed especially for geriatric cats caused her to have a psychotic reaction, which was frightening. It never occurred to me that could happen to a cat. She was terrified of everything, including my husband and me and sequestered herself out-of-reach under a bed for 2 days. When she finally came down from her very bad trip she was slightly dehydrated and exhausted. That nightmare exhausted all three of us. You can’t imagine how frightening it was to see her so scared and to feel so helpless, even though the vet called us frequently to see how we were all doing.

There have been other things like brushing my teeth first thing in the morning and finding my crown stuck in my night guard, no longer sharing a connection with my gums. The crown was cracked, couldn’t be simply glued back in and required a root canal … my second one since January’s abscessed tooth.

Usually a fairly calm person, my anxiety level went over the line into ‘arc weld’ when, following my next dental appointment I had an adverse reaction 5 hours after taking the antibiotic I have to take prior to dental work because I have 2 joint replacements. The root canal required two more trips to the dentist so we spaced them 2 months apart to give me a rest between taking the antibiotic.

But I had the same antibiotic reaction again; not as severe and not as long in duration  but it was unpleasant and I didn’t want to do it again.  But I did.  

I survived but by the SECOND appointment I was a white-knuckle dental chair flyer … a basket case in anticipation of another antibiotic reaction.  And it DID happen again five hours following the appointment and I survived but I didn’t fly that anxiety-ridden dental trip prior to the reaction alone…

Here is where the dentist and I began our unexpected journey into … the Twilight Dentition Zone.

I took my seat in the dental chair and applied my death grip to the arm rests. The dentist, who isn’t just simply a dentist … he is, instead an Endodontist and that makes him “special,” flipped the ‘head down’ chair switch and my head began its decent into that area that makes me dizzy because of my blood pressure medicine.

The farther down he dipped my head, the worse my growing anxiety and by the time I reached the reverse nosebleed position I started having irregular heartbeats. Severe anxiety sometimes does that to me and while I was concentrating on not passing out,  I began trying to talk myself out of the irregular heartbeats.  By then the dental assistant had stuck that sucking-thing under my tongue and the brightness of that inquisition-style dental light rendered me almost totally blind. BUT the irregular heartbeats continued as my attempt at self-hypnosis failed miserably.

Flying blind on my head while a lung and a kidney were being sucked out through that sucking-thing under my tongue, I was unable to stop the irregularity. I reasoned it was time to alert the dentist/Endo guy to what was happening while he obliviously began turning the drill up three more octaves to ARC WELD. I thought he deserved to know and I was weary of being the only one of the two of us aware of my impending cardiac arrest.

I told him.

He immediately removed all 42 instruments, both of his hands and that lung-sucking suction-thing from my mouth and began tilting the chair back to a more comfortable longitude and latitude and asked, “Is that better?”

I told him just getting off my head was a relief but the cardiac irregularities kept on. He said we could cancel the appointment but I told him, “I’m here, I’ve taken the antibiotic and WE’RE DOING THIS PROCEDURE.”

He said,  “OK” and asked if there was anything he could do.

I told him, “No. I just need a minute,” which didn’t help at all.

He offered, “I could sing!”

And before I could even think of a Top 40 tune to request, he burst into song. For probably a full minute he sang a rousing, cardiac irregularity-stopping rendition of You Are My Sunshine.  I listened, I laughed and my heart dropped into a lower gear and back to normal rhythm again. Both he and I were relieved.

We began the procedure again in a modified, less annoying head-dragging position and everything went off without a hitch. I told him I’d recommend him to my friends, “especially the psychotic ones.”

This could be the end of my story except for this … I was an operating room RN for my entire nursing career and I KNOW what it’s like to think a patient is about to take their last gasp while under your care. It’s one of those moments when you maintain your outward composure while gently reassuring the patient and having an undetectable emotional breakdown of your own. It’s one of those medical skills we cultivate but never talk about. We just do it.

So, I couldn’t help wondering, while the chorus of You Are My Sunshine was beginning, if that gentle Endodontist was whispering silently to himself in his head, “Please don’t bite the big one in my dental chair.” Chances are almost 100% that he was … and I understand.

Given a little more time, I probably could have reversed my anxiety on my own … I’m certain of it and it would have made me far less embarrassed if I could have pulled it off quietly without mentioning it at all.

Turns out all I needed was a little distraction –  just like that unexpected surprise rendition of You Are My Sunshine. Until then I wasn’t having much success but …

Then the dentist sang …

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The Truth About ‘NO KINGS’

13 Oct

No matter WHO we are, what race or nationality, male or female or what political party we affiliate with I’d like to believe we ALL prefer the TRUTH to information that is actually MISinformation or DISinformation.  It just makes sense to want to be informed with correct information. It’s good to trust people who have had the actual ‘experience’ to describe it to us. Even better, of course, is actually having had the experience personally, in which case we’re pretty much assured we’ve got it right. AND if someone asks us to describe it to them, we’re confident we’re passing along the truth. You know …

So, I felt compelled to write this about an experience I’ve had (and shared with thousands of people) to dispel rumors or incorrect information that’s floating around “out there.”

Contrary to how it may seem, this is not exactly a political post. The example is political but the focus remains about TRUTH, which seems to be in short order a lot of the time lately. On this topic, at least, I really want to share the truth because I’ve BEEN THERE, DONE THAT.  

The past few days I’ve heard the Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson say that next weekend there will be a protest (speaking of the NO KINGS national protest / rally on October 18) that he referred to as “the  HATE AMERICA  RALLY.”

What Mr. Johnson said was,  “It will be a gathering of Antifa, Pro-Marxists and Pro-Hamas groups. It will be an outrageous gathering with an outrageous purpose. All this has got to come to an end. We’re so angry  about it. I’m a very patient guy but I have had it with these people. They’re playing games with real people’s lives. It (the rally) is meant to extend the government shutdown.”

I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this disinformation without speaking up and speaking out.

My husband and I were at the national NO KINGS Protest in June and I know from having been a part of it, how and what it actually was. If anyone turned on a TV (any channel other than FOX News) in the many days following, they saw HUGE crowds in every major city and in small towns all over this country PEACEFULLY PROTESTING as part of the NO KINGS  Protest.  AND it extended into countries other than our own. There was no violence, which was remarkable considering the size of the crowds.

As a “national” protest there is NO DOUBT in my mind that it was successful, peaceful and overwhelmingly attended BECAUSE of skillful organization AND because those attending were united in a common cause because we LOVE THIS COUNTRY. “Hating America” was never even hinted at.

WEEKS prior to the event those of us signed up to attend were invited to multiple webinars that educated us on how to act, how to peacefully defuse a conflict, what we could and could not bring to the event, and sadly, how to be identified should we become victims of violence. The recurrent theme throughout EVERY webinar we attended was that, above and beyond all else, it would be PEACEFUL, which was the most important thing.

We were told absolutely NOT to bring a weapon. It was suggested that we bring water, signs and a snack if we wanted to. We were also told to bring raincoats in the event of bad weather. We would NOT be allowed to bring umbrellas or any object that had the potential to be used as a weapon … our posters and signs had to be held by hand and not attached to stakes or sticks of any kind.

We were instructed NOT to be confrontational even if someone confronted us. If a conflict occurred that threatened to become physical, we were instructed to sit down on the ground and put our signs on the ground in front of us. This would distinguish us from those causing the conflict and would make them easier for the police presence to identify.

The constant and ever-present instruction was to do everything we were instructed to do to keep it a  PEACEFUL PROTEST. And it worked. Of the thousands and thousands of people that attended throughout the world, the protest was PEACEFUL. There was NO sign of HATE or HATE AMERICA. This apparently was the universal response or we would surely have heard about even one incident for days and days following the event.

I can only speak for the rally we attended in our city, which brought in more than 1000 people and was remarkable.

 To make things clear, my husband and I are not affiliated with ANTIFA (which is NOT a “group or organization,” by the way, but is an abbreviation (possibly also an acronym?) for Anti Fascism), neither are we Pro-Marxists or Pro-Hamas. Among ALL those present we never saw a single poster or sign FOR those groups but did see MANY very creative signs and posters protesting against President trump’s methods of governing and tendency toward acting like a king … hence the NO KINGS title of the nation-wide rally. There were, however, abundant posters / signs to save our democracy, Social Security, healthcare, Medicare, Medicaid, museums, history as it actually happened, education, women’s rights and the CONSTITUTION, and more. There were signs against indiscriminate ICE raids against anyone that does NOT appear to be ‘white.’

The 1000+ people at the rally locally were the way America was intended … people of every color, race, sex, nationality, and they (we) were young people, old people, disabled people – some in wheelchairs, representatives from every age and choice … every group. The BEST part of all of us together was that we WERE together … talking to each other like neighbors meeting at a mailbox  or at a block party united for a common cause and  BECAUSE WE LOVE THIS COUNTRY. It was exhilarating and positive and inspiring.

The only concern that could have turned to conflict, thankfully did NOT. 3 men arrived together wearing the MAGA uniform –  beards, the red baseball MAGA cap … and stood just outside the crowd watching, scowling and one was taking notes. About 40 minutes into the event one left and came back carrying a flag I wasn’t familiar with and wearing a shoulder holster with a gun. He walked into the crowd and simply stood holding his flag. The police approached him immediately and spoke with but didn’t attempt to make him leave because he hadn’t done anything except, perhaps, try to intimidate with the presence of his holstered weapon. We’d been well trained by the pre-rally webinars and didn’t feel the intimidation if any was intended.

A woman with a small child standing close to us said, “There are CHILDREN here …”

The press arrived and was headed towards the man with the flag and gun, doing their job and apparently with plans to get a story for News at 6.  The men closest to him surrounded him quickly, never touching him, and held their signs above his head to deflect the press and keep the event from being interpreted as something controversial. Since the event was PEACEFUL (and about the right to  PEACEFULLY PROTEST as much as it was about NO KINGS), I thought the action of the men in the crowd was peacefully and well executed. The 3 bearded men left shortly after that.

SO … Mr. Johnson … you are wrong and I couldn’t let your statements just hang out there in the air without attempting to make them right as I’m certain you would want me to do. The previous nation-wide NO KINGS event was neither populated by ANTIFA, Pro-Marxists or Pro-Hamas and I’m betting dollars to doughnuts the NO KINGS event coming up on October 18 will not be either.

The thing that bothers me so much about what you’ve been saying is that it is disinformation and rather than it being simply your OPINION, because of who you are and the position you hold it may seem to be a call to those troubled trump followers who enjoy conflicts and inflicting personal injury upon those they believe to be against trump. Your statements, Sir, are what has the potential to cause problems and even injury or loss of life and that frightens me beyond words. You have a responsibility to do all you can to prevent that from happening.

As an additional aside, as preparation for the October NO KINGS event continues, including pre-event webinars, at NO time have we heard even a hint that this particular rally that has been months in the planning, is intended as a means of extending the current government shutdown.  The shutdown is NOT a consideration because it hadn’t occurred when this event was originally conceived.  

I remember politicians having differences of opinion as long as I’ve been able to understand conversation and differences. In the past that was a good thing because talking / debating through differences mostly made for sounder and stronger  judgement.  It encouraged people to THINK.  But misinformation & disinformation are like cancers that will continue to do unimaginable damage unless they are stopped. I implore you to do your research and find out what NO KINGS (or anything else) is about before making public statements that can cause real damage.  Let it start with you …

The NO KINGS Protests are peaceful, founded on peace for the love of this country. WATCH … LISTEN TO THEM … ATTEND ONE.  According to unaltered history … President Truman had a sign on his desk that said THE BUCK STOPS HERE.

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Bloody Wednesday

12 Sep

Wednesday, September 10, 2025 began like most Wednesdays lately – a sunny, slowly-warming late summer day, kids back in school, political unrest reported on TV news, the nation preparing for the 24th anniversary remembrance of 9/11 the following day on September 11th – the same old, same old. Until mid-morning it was life as usual. And then TWO very sad, very similar tragedies happened shortly, which changed a seemingly normal day into one of the most egregious in our history.

Young political activist, Charlie Kirk was just beginning an appearance outside on the lawn at a Utah university. The crowd size was estimated at approximately 3000. He was a father and a husband and was only 31years-old.

Dedicated to the trump administration, Kirk was quite successful at connecting and engaging with young people, especially on college campuses and sharing his political ideology with them. And apparently, he LISTENED. He encouraged debate with people of other views and was an advocate of free speech and realizing everyone has an opinion and is entitled to it; advocating for and speaking about that opinion openly. While most on the other side of the political aisle strongly disagreed with his views, all agreed he was a dedicated young man who had a future with the republican party.

Sitting outside under a bimini, wearing dark pants and a message t-shirt, he was surrounded by the huge, excited crowd that was enjoying his friendly, conversational presentation. He had been tossing MAGA baseball caps into the crowd.

Shortly after 11 a.m. a single shot rang out hitting Kirk in the side of his neck causing an enormous eruption of blood … apparently tearing into the carotid artery. He was quickly removed from the area, put into a waiting vehicle and rushed to a local hospital. Panic-stricken, the crowd ran away from the scene attempting to seek cover. Most of the young people there had grown up under the constant threat of violence and they reacted with the precision with which they had been groomed since childhood.

Amid national disbelief, Charlie Kirk was pronounced dead shortly after arrival at the hospital. Television programming was delayed or interrupted for the rest of the day to accommodate breaking news regarding the tragic assassination.

Today … the day after … thanks to media coverage the public probably knows almost as much about the Kirk assassination as the media itself does … because that’s how things work here. We’ve seen photos (recently released) of the likely assassin currently referred to as ‘a person of interest,’ we know venue security was minimal, we know the authorities, thanks to outside cameras, have been able to track the shooter from his entrance onto the college grounds, to his accessing the roof from which he fired the single fatal shot from a high-powered weapon, to his leaving the roof, dropping the lethal weapon and fleeing through a nearby neighborhood. Flags are being flown at half-mast nation-wide and a million-dollar reward is being offered for information about the shooter.

Meanwhile in Colorado, a troubled student APPARENTLY took a firearm to school, opened an unexpected attack on the students, and 3 were left dead, including the shooter. This was reported on ABC News with David Muir, CNN and on MSNBC but there were few details included – just those I’ve mentioned. Perhaps I missed a more detailed report.

Today I haven’t heard the Colorado school shooting mentioned at all. So use to school shootings, we are left to guess what happened and attempt to fill in the blanks ourselves UNLESS a more thorough report has been made public and I simply missed it.

Details aside, the fact remains that 3 young people with their lives fully ahead of them are dead and that’s tragic. We don’t know their names or what could have been awful enough, in reality or imagined, that could cause a young person to take the lives of fellow students. Was the shooter a girl or a boy? How old was he / she? How old were the victims? How did the shooter get into school with a weapon? How did the shooter OBTAIN the weapon? What KIND of weapon did the shooter use? Has there been communication with the parents? Is there a reward for information? Have flags nationwide been flown at half-mast in remembrance of 3 dead kids?

Both events from September 10 are, to me, anyway, equally as tragic. A total of 4 lives were lost, although in reality there were probably many more lost nationwide yesterday because this is where we live. These 2 events were, apparently, the most newsworthy. BOTH, no matter what, were horrendous, tragic, senseless and heart wrenching. To me, they were EOM (equal opportunity murders) and should have been given the same concern and equal focus.

Mr. Kirk was obviously a high-profile individual and his senseless death garnered quite a lot of grief, attention, media coverage and comments. He was loved and revered by many and he also had enemies (obviously) but he did NOT deserve to be assassinated. His 2 children will no longer have a dad and his wife is, today, a shocked and grieving widow. Because someone disagreed with him politically  – it’s being referred to as a political assassination – is NO reason for him to lose his life. Listening, speaking to those with whom one has differences and working together on solutions, according to the media and dignitaries that responded, were Kirk’s most positive attributes.

I, personally, vehemently disagreed with most of Mr. Kirk’s beliefs and no doubt he wouldn’t have agreed with mine but assassinating one’s adversaries is the last way… is NO way to settle differences.

The 3 dead students in Colorado were robbed of their possibility of becoming high profile personalities and the promise of what they might have contributed to make this world a better place … or possibly worse. We’ll never know and that is staggeringly sad.

EVERY life taken by violence is a tragedy, equally. The loss of ONE life, ONE child is abhorrent.

Immediately following the announcement that Mr. Kirk had died, condolences and comments began coming in from many, many people including political personalities from both sides of the aisle and reported through the media. Regardless of political affiliation EACH respondent included that this kind of reaction to differences was against everything this country stands for and was built upon … “This is not who we are as a country.”

I strongly  disagree. This is EXACTLY who we are as a country … NOW … but it’s not who we use to be. Today it’s who we aspire to be again but it IS who we are and my heart weeps.

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And, Tragically, Again This Morning …

27 Aug

Just this morning another mass shooting happened, this time in Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA in a Catholic church filled with school children celebrating mass before starting their school day in their church affiliated school. The US president and Homeland Security Secretary have sent thoughts and prayers and are monitoring the situation. Flags will be flown at half-mast.

And where are the National Guard and Homeland Security?

National Guard with troops from several states is now performing a photo op in Washington, DC at the president’s insistence that there is an emergency situation with crime there. According to reports, the Guard is NOT patrolling the high crime areas … just the highest visibility areas like monuments and tourist attractions.

Homeland Security is making big plans to paint trump’s border wall black because black paint absorbs more heat and the high black wall temperature will make it too hot for illegal immigrants to climb. HS is also busy arresting American citizens that LOOK foreign, are foreign exchange students, professors, physicians and moms and dads from their schools, homes, and workplaces and tossing them into American concentration camps.

No doubt Ms. Noem … who is living rent free in a government owned residence because she got phone death threats and didn’t feel safe in her townhouse, is also planning her costumes for her next photo ops. (I wonder if, following her own death threats, she can imagine, then, the fear of those threatened children this morning as they hid underneath church pews as bullets peppered them and they watched in horror as their friends were gunned down?)

Meanwhile, 14 children and teachers are hospitalized, some in critical condition, and a 10-year-old and an 8-year-old are dead from the school shooting this morning.

There will be no gun reform, no changes in the president’s agenda … just thoughts, prayers and flags waving in the breeze half way up flagpoles. If Sandy Hook, Marjory Stoneman Douglas, Uvalde & the countless others didn’t result in change, this one won’t either. All of this is complicated by the fact that individuals can now whip out a fully functioning gun in the privacy of their homes for a few bucks on their 3-D printer, no serial number required.

Lack of common-sense gun reform cannot be laid entirely at the feet of trump. He has been, although complicit,  one of many primarily because of a congress that continues to vote AGAINST common sense in favor of receiving substantial donations. Dead children are, apparently, acceptable as collateral damage.

Walmart, grocery stores, churches, nail salons, theaters, nightclubs, concerts, parades and especially schools are no longer our “Happy and Safe Places.” They are potential slaughter houses for anyone with a gun who has a grievance against anyone or anything, plus the angry, the down trodden and the mentally ill. Their prey is the innocent unsuspecting that are guilty of nothing more than needing a loaf of bread, a pleasant night out or an education.

Our 4-year-old grandson is about to start pre-school. We should be thrilled at this next experience he is about to undertake as he grows into what we pray is a productive human being. He will be starting his adventure in a church-affiliated pre-school on the same campus as the church in a quiet, low-crime city, which should be the safest place on the planet. But this morning’s tragic news from Minneapolis assures us it is NOT. Not only are we worried about him beyond description, we are scared beyond belief for him…

 … and for us and for this country, because it tragically happened again this morning.

America is a Gun

By Brian Biltson

England is a cup of tea.

France, a wheel of ripened brie.

Greece, a short, squat olive tree.

America is a gun.

Brazil is a football on the sand.

Argentina, Maradona’s hand.

Germany, an oompah band.

America is a gun.

Holland is a wooden shoe.

Hungary, a goulash stew.

Australia, a kangaroo.

America is a gun.

Japan is a thermal spring.

Scotland is a highland fling.

Oh, better to be anything

than America as a gun.

(Note: This poem was shared with me by Jane Fritz. Thank you, Jane.)

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Facing Elderhood …

18 Aug

My friend and fellow blogger, Jane Fritz recently has written two blog posts with a focus on aging; the changes we face both physically and emotionally as we drift into our twilight years. Since Jane and I are only a heartbeat apart in the census records of that year when we were born, I have been very interested in reading Jane’s blogs to see how she is dealing with a subject we never expected to face, yet here we are. What a surprise it is getting here as fast as we have.

I pretty much have been able to ignore the advancing years as long as I’ve felt good and could ace the annual cognitive tests at my doctor’s office brought to us lovingly by Medicare. Banana, Bench, Sunset! And I can still draw that clock and manage to get the numbers between 12 and 3, 3 and 6, 6 and 9, and 9 and 12 in the proper sequence. To quote a current, annoyingly blustering politician, “If I could do that cognitively perfect memory test,  I’m a stable genius. (Everybody says so).”

My last several birthdays have been significant and have given me pause for reflection. It occurred to me that after a certain age, ALL birthdays become significant simply by virtue of still being here to celebrate them.

Becoming elderly is like walking around in a closet with no windows and searching for the light switch by feeling along the wall. You run into sweaters and garments you should have gotten rid of years before, get tangled up in the bottom half of old coats and stumble over a pile of moldy shoes. There is NO primer to tell us what to expect or where to find the answers. In pre-school and first grade we had the wisdom of Dick and Jane, Sally, Spot and Puff to guide us into becoming kids. Apparently, Dick and Jane … and little Sally … have grown so old by now that they were just too tired to write another “HOW TO” book to guide us into elderhood. They were most likely plodding that mysterious path just ahead us. And Spot and Puff are long since on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.

You can’t depend on Hallmark. They crank out those lovely greeting cards showing an elderly couple from the back, walking down a beach on a beautiful summer day. Both are wearing wrinkled, comfortable shorts and shirts, canvas hats with floppy brims and they are holding hands as they stroll down that lovely beach into oblivion. What’s REALLY happening is they are holding hands to feel secure and they’re leaning on each other for support ‘cause they’re walking on no less than 3, probably 4 joint replacements with titanium and plastic parts.  Their clothes are baggy because they’re more comfortable and accommodating for their DEPENDS and the floppy hat keeps the sun from blinding them in cataract-laden eyes. And they have no idea where they’re going or why they are where they are. There was no “HOW TO” primer for them either. Maybe being ‘oblivious’ is the best way to stroll down that never-ending, twilight-approaching beach.

I paid a lot of serious attention to what Jane wrote because now I think it’s important that we, of that certain age, share our experiences with each other as well as leaving them for posterity. In effect, while we’re out here floundering and blog-documenting, we are writing an unseen primer of our own, hoping someone will read these specific blogs and that we can help each other as well as the generations hobbling along behind us.

 Where I am now is this: I’ve had 2 major illnesses and one life threatening one and I’ve dealt with them but they were when I was younger. What I seem to be dealing with while balancing on the precipice of what’s next? is just one annoying thing after the other and I wake up many mornings thinking,  “What awful thing is going to happen today?” Unfortunately,  I’m seldom disappointed.

I HAVE found, though, that I’ve become a little more daring now that I’m older and marching forward at a slower pace. Someone asked recently on a science fiction Facebook page, “Would you use a Star Trek transporter knowing it would scatter your atoms and reassemble them on your arrival at your destination? 10 years ago, I might have hesitated. Now I don’t even have to THINK about taking that uncertain trip. I’D DO IT for the experience! What would I have to lose???? A lot less now than 10 years ago.

We try to eat healthy meals, mostly, and get some exercise and Jane and I seem to keep our brain cells clicking along with all thrusters firing by writing stuff and thinking through what we want to write about … and we both have grandchildren. What we also both know is that it’s not healthy, as well as being just plain futile to spend a lot of time worrying about the things we have no control over like aging and politics. Frustrating as we’ve discovered it is, we probably have more control over aging.

So, as I’ve said before, if I wake up in the morning and manage to make it to the bathroom without peeing on my feet, I figure it’s going to be an OK day.

As a parallel for observation (are you listening, Dick and Jane?) we’re caring for and loving our 19.5-year-old cat as she deals with her feline version of facing elderhood. She has pretty severe osteoarthritis and goes to the vet once a month for an injection specifically prescribed for her joint pain. Because of her condition and the fact that there IS no joint replacement surgery for cats, she has difficulty walking and sometimes has problems climbing in and out of the litter box. Sometimes she almost makes it but misses and hits, instead, the absorbent Kitty Pads I have surrounding the  box. Even with that consideration, she is still cat cognitively unimpaired and still has some worthwhile quality of life. I just can’t justify “putting her to sleep” for our convenience.

Comparatively, I hope no one considers putting ME to sleep for the same bladder dysfunction that is plaguing the cat, even though she isn’t peeing on her feet. That would be a very ugly ending for Dick and Jane’s new “HOW TO” book, Facing Elderhood with Dick and Jane (Sally, Spot and Puff ): A Preparation Primer …

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BLINK! The Raccoon Wars …

13 Jul

My husband and I have had an ADT home security system for 22 years because we’re in a remote area and back when this house was built, we were only the 5th. house in this now thriving subdivision. We’ve added to the system along the way and a little over 2 years ago my husband added Blink outside security cameras all over the place. Not only have people become just plain cruel lately, they have gotten progressively bolder and meaner and the additional security feels, well, more SECURE.

Since adding the outside security system, we haven’t had a break-in intruder but we have seen a lot of local wildlife strolling through the yard at night. There have been herds of deer snacking on our flowering shrubs, rabbits, opossums, raccoons and a cat convention on our porch after sundown almost every night.

Since adding Blink we have a video file of our neighborhood bear checking out our basement door and the door to our basement utility room, our garbage can on the side porch and our front porch furniture. So far, he hasn’t disturbed our garbage like he has some of our neighbors and has done no damage. And we DID find out why the left side of my car is ALWAYS clean and polished in the mornings. Our bear takes the same path every night going to his next stop and his fur cleans off the left side of my car as he passes by it. The bear lanolin apparently gives that side a freshly waxed look. Maybe I should turn the car around every night to get a more even Bear Car Wash.

Way back when BEAR SMITH (we’ve given him our last name for reference purposes only) first showed up we got some cool videos of him walking down our front walkway, I sent them to our local TV news station and they featured our video on NEWS AT 11. Our Willy-installed Blink outside cameras haven’t failed us yet.

Way back at the end of January when snow had turned to ice in our yard, Willy tossed out a couple of 2-week-old biscuits for the birds. Instantly a black cat we’d seen in the neighborhood for months came from nowhere and devoured a biscuit. Being especially fond of cats we knew that they notoriously are not biscuit eaters unless they are pretty hungry. Our neighbors confirmed the little black cat didn’t seem to belong to anyone, was sleeping on different porches at night and scavenging what food he could find or was given. We decided to help by feeding it.

The little black cat was familiar with people but seemed to have been on her own for a while and was really skittish so we began by leaving cat food at the wood pile and gradually moving it closer to the house until we started putting it on the porch. The porch protected the cat from weather and even though we added a box for her to sleep in, she never did. We finally convinced the little hobo that we were only trying to help by providing food and water and were not evil cat abductors selling cat pelts to clothing companies to be used as faux mink coats.

Willy added a CAT CAM to our outside security system above the cat feeding area. When there is motion in front of it the Blink app on Willy’s phone chimes and we can keep up with when our little black hobo comes for a meal. She trusts us enough after 6 months of good cat food, occasional chicken, turkey and tuna leftovers and KFC on Sunday nights to sit on the porch while we put her food on the mat under the CAT CAM. She won’t come close enough to let us touch her … yet … but she waits for us now on the porch to be fed.

Until about a month ago, all had been going well at ‘Smith’s Catville.’ Then in the middle of the night the CAT CAM reported raccoon activity. The HUGE raccoon,  fat and fastidious,  even washed his hands in the cat water before eating the cat food.

We started taking the food inside at night and that solved the problem for a little while. When the fat raccoon realized there was food available during the day it started showing up at all hours, proving that raccoons aren’t just nocturnal.

While the price of eggs has risen to just under the price of a kidney sold on the black market on the Dark Web, a bag of cat food is right up there in that price category. It became way less than cost efficient to feed the cat, plus a couple neighborhood cats that have homes and families, AND what was starting to look like a 400-pound raccoon, obviously the star of that B-movie series, The Raccoon that Devoured Cleveland. And the Cleveland-devouring raccoon had started bringing a smaller, scraggly-looking raccoon with it, most likely a spouse.

I started chasing them one-at-a-time off the porch with a broom and a yell and Willy started doing the same thing. They ran like crazy … at first. Then they started running off the porch but stoppling in the yard and waiting for the “broom squealers” to leave.

Whichever one of us was on Raccoon Patrol started carrying Willy’s phone with us. When the chime alerted us from the CAT CAM that someone was at the cat bowl, we’d check and if it was Mega ‘Coon, we’d pick up the broom and start running and yelling.

The ‘coon that broke the camel’s back, kinda, was the morning he came and the BLINK alerted me on the phone just as I was getting dressed. Wearing only my ‘dainties’ and a pajama top I grabbed the broom and, giving my best Ninja scream, ran onto the porch and into the yard, broom raised over my head. I chased the fat raccoon until he just stopped, turned around and looked at me.  It was like a stand-off at the OK Corral as we both stood frozen waiting for the other to yell, “DRAW!”  With broom raised,  I let fly a bloodcurdling Ninja scream and the racoon took off into the woods at a speed that would have challenged any competitive runner. SCORE ONE for the semi-naked screaming lady and best wishes to my neighbors that surely hightailed it back inside to the safety of their homes.  

I told Willy, as he showed me the embarrassing footage on the Blink security camera chronicling the event, that I believed if I screamed like that again my throat would  bleed.

The fat raccoon didn’t come back for a long time but it did come back one final time (so far). Willy was planning to shoot it with a paintball but I didn’t want to hurt it and paintballs leave terrible bruises on people. There was something about that pitiful look it gave me just before my final throat-ripping scream that gave me mixed feelings about the animal and I started understanding that t was just hungry and doing the best it could. I’m a sucker for a hard luck story.  

Willy DID, however sit on the porch cradling his BB gun one morning following the  return of the raccoon on the CAT CAM. He yelled, it took off and he shot the BB above its head into the trees. The sound of the flying pellet and the obvious noise it made when it hit a nearby tree must have put the fear of the raccoon deity into the soul of that fat fuzzy creature because he hasn’t been back since. We are hopeful.

In case we should mysteriously disappear and seem to have been abducted by aliens, please do tell the authorities that evidence of our disappearance may be found on the videos from our Blink security system. Please, also tell them not to pay too much attention to the crazed, half-naked woman chasing something off the porch with a broom, screaming in tongues or the man cradling a BB gun shooting into the bushes.

Chances are we didn’t get abducted by a band of marauding raccoons but you never know.  If that is what the reliable Blink recorded and we’ve been ‘coonnapped,’  maybe our family can sell the movie rights to Paramount or Disney. And we hope they  DO share the royalties with our grandson. He may need it to escape the paparazzi when they find out his grandparents starred in the latest version of  BLINK! The Raccoon Wars …

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For the First Time …

16 Jun

My husband and I are no strangers to protests. We came along at the end of one and slid into another, another and another as kids, adolescents and young adults. As a matter of fact, in my memory it seems there was ALWAYS something being protested against or for … or for AND against. Our youth was filled with the turbulent times of the Vietnam war, equal rights, civil rights and anti-nuclear protests, to name a few. Much like the beginning of space travel and moon landings, perhaps we just became immune to the excitement of it all and accepted protests as simply part of life. Whatever the reason, my husband and I never managed to become impassioned enough to jump into a sign-carrying, drum-beating, marching protest … until now. But here we are … grandparents … finally impassioned strongly … so strongly that last week we spent a good bit of time making signs for the No Kings Protest this past Saturday against our current government’s administration.

As we held our signs high in the 90+ degree heat of Virginia summer and chanted “NO KINGS, NO KINGS” in unison with the other approximately 498 people attending the protest (update: a local police department representative estimated crowd size to be 850 – 1000) I said to my husband, “A year ago we could never have imagined we’d be in the middle of a huge national protest this year.” He shook his head and said to me, “But here we are.”

We’ve never been political people, exactly. We’ve known what values we felt were important for this country and voted accordingly, trusting that both political candidates and political parties, although having differences, had the good of the country as the driving force behind their candidacy, and their oath to the Constitution as their focal point around which to govern; their north star. If our preferred candidate didn’t win an election, we knew pretty much that the country would be in good hands because the majority of its leaders genuinely cared – or it SEEMED that way. The election in 2024 changed all that. We knew a second trump presidency would be bad because we’d seen it during his first term and he told us before the election what he intended to do if elected. We could not have imagined how bad until his inauguration.

I don’t plan to go detail by detail about the frightening changes that began almost immediately after being sworn into office and he removed his hand from the Bible … except he never really placed his hand on the Bible, in case that’s significant. Suffice it to say that the changes have been horrific with some new thing daily in this house of horrors our country has become. If we’re keeping up and making sure we pay attention to ALL news media outlets and not just one, we are aware of those changes and unless we’re deluded, we realize how frightening they have been and continue to be.

And so, there we were, grandparents, at our first protest, primarily because we so hope for a safer, kinder world for our 3-year-old grandson to grow up in and be a contributing, successful member of. It’s amazing just how much that desire has changed us and made us so fully aware.

It was exhilarating to finally be in a big crowd of sign-carrying, chanting people that felt like we do with whom we were sharing our love for this country and our concern for the damage we’re seeing daily to our threatened democracy. We were sharing those fears and concerns, which made them seem less like Stephen King’s monsters in the closet. The atmosphere seemed so reassuring that there IS hope and most things are possible if we share them and work them out together.

As so many protesters decades before us have found out, we were suddenly NOT among strangers … we were sharing an experience with ‘family’ on a hot June afternoon AND also sharing it with the 5 MILLION ‘NO KINGS’ protesters nationally and in other countries who support us.

The main theme of the No Kings Protest was and always is peaceful protest. The organizers stressed that from the beginning and we followed through. If counter protesters came into our space attempting to disrupt our peaceful protest, we were not to engage with them but to sit down and put our signs down in front of us, leaving the disrupters standing and clearly visible to law enforcement.

A number of ZOOM meetings and webinars were available leading up to the day of the nationwide protest on how to conduct ourselves, how to defuse an altercation, what to bring with us to the protest, what NOT to bring, how umbrellas and handles on signs should be left at home rather than bringing anything to the gathering that could be used as a weapon. And NO WEAPONS or firearms should be brought to the event. That was fully enforced during the rally.

It was amazing how well organized it all was for something so large, a nationwide event that extended to other countries.

The crowd consisted of young adults with young families, middle aged people in a position to be caring for elderly parents, grandparents, the disabled and the elderly. We talked to them all and they talked to us. They had brought their concerns with them like weights on their backs – concerns about the environment, healthcare and vaccines, our country’s allies or lack of them, our security and safety, total disruption of vital government programs, tariffs, cost of living, jobs, loss of health insurance for elderly parents and for ourselves, Medicaid, Medicare and Social Security, to just scratch the surface and mention only a few. Our signs reflected specific concerns. All this brought a lessening of anxiety because there is comfort knowing you aren’t the ONLY ones.

Being a part of ‘No Kings’ was a life-altering experience for us because we realized how very much NOT alone we are … and that there is hope.

The defining moment of the protest afternoon for me was the presence of 3 MAGA people, all wearing the red MAGA baseball cap that is the focal point of the costume. All 3 had beards, stern expressions and accusing stares. Two stood on either side of the area, watching, arms crossed and not speaking but surveilling. Because of what the ZOOM meetings and webinars had instilled in us, we found them far less intimidating than they might have seemed otherwise and they were easy to ignore, which everyone did.

About 40 minutes into the event, the third member of the “red hat society’ carrying an unusual flag walked into the center of the crowd, turned around and just stood. The most obvious thing about him was not the flag or hat or beard. It was the shoulder holster he wore with a gun securely in it. We were aware of the presence of 4 police officers since the beginning of the event and 3 of them were immediately speaking to the flag-carrying individual. A young mother standing close to me whose children were with her said, “There are children here.”

We don’t know if he was asked to leave but he did NOT. The crowd began a chant of, “LEAVE, LEAVE, LEAVE.” When he didn’t leave, a local TV station’s ‘on the scene’ reporter arrived and began videoing. A group of OUR men surrounded the MAGA visitor, never touching him, never uttering a word and raised their signs to cover him from the prying eyes of the camera, eliminating a possible interview and the opportunity for the peaceful protest to be turned into a circus. It was an expert move that was beautifully executed.

The visitor decided to leave, which was a blessing before any possibility of intimidation, disruption or conflict could occur. Whether or not that was the plan we’ll never know but there were no incidents and there was no chaotic story for the News at Six. For our area of Virginia, at least, there was no need for the National Guard the Virginia governor had activated the evening before the protest.

The most emotional part of the day was when one of the speakers was encouraging us, inspiring us and talking to us about how each of us was so important to restoring our country and making it truly great again as it had been before January 26. Suddenly someone began singing America the Beautiful. It spread through the crowd of hundreds until every person there seemed to be singing … all verses. And people were crying as their voices rose and the words floated away on the humid Virginia air.  It was one of the most moving moments I can remember ever being a part of and I will remember it for the rest of my life. It gave me, through my own tears, so much hope.

Exhausted and still overheated we road in silence and the comfort of the air conditioner most of the way home. And then my husband said to me, “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

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