Al's Coat

I have an old coat that I wear around the farm; it’s a little big – but that’s how it came to me. It used to belong to my wife’s uncle, Al on her mother’s side.  Albert, Al for short, is a little shorter and a little smaller than me. So, I‘ve always wondered since the coat is too big for me – how did Al ever fill it out.

I like to wear the coat instead of coveralls in the warmer weather.  It’s light enough, yet it protects me when I am crawling around in the dirt and rocks under a tractor or mower. It has some holes in it, and the inside of the collar is frayed and worn from me shaking my head trying to solve a problem. I think of Al whenever I put it on, hoping some of his mechanical skills came with the coat.

Al’s mechanical skills are legendary, and that is not an exaggeration.  Men who work on tractors and implements still talk about him, who is in his nineties, with great respect and high regard. The mechanics who worked with Al had to learn from watching instead of questioning because if you asked him too many questions he would say, “You’re just like the ladies, always asking questions.”

The hay baler, an especially complicated piece of machinery, was Al’s specialty. His sharp eye and ear could often diagnose the problem before he ever set his hand to the task. So vast was his reputation that men would travel from South Dakota on a Sunday to his farm in Carver County asking for help. For his trouble he would often come home with an old truck or tractor that had been left to rust in the weeds. Al would get them running again though.

A few years ago I went with my wife to Al’s 90^th birthday party. One of the stories I heard that day happened during World War II. Al was driving a truck filled with German POW’s; because he could speak German fluently, he and the prisoners talked easily back and forth between the cab and the cargo area.

I don’t know what happened, if Al got distracted or if the road conditions were poor, but the truck got stuck. Some of the prisoners suggested that Al release them so they could push the truck out. Al knew, even with his rifle and his sidearm, he would be easily overpowered with over a dozen unarmed men. But that was what he did, he let them out.  When the men pushed the back truck back on the road they climbed back in, and Al shut and locked the door again.

After the war, he came home to Carver County and got a job fixing farm equipment, which is something I will never be able to do. I got reminded of that this weekend when I was working on my mower. I have to get the lawn mowed soon before the rains come, otherwise I will have to bale it and I don’t own a baler.

I had on Al’s coat when I was crawling underneath the mower taking the blades off to sharpen them when I bumped my head. That’s when it hit me: the coat will never fit perfectly because I will never be as big a man as Albert.

Watergate

Forty years ago President Nixon resigned rather than face impeachment and removal from office for obstruction of justice, abuse of power and contempt of Congress. Dozens of men were charged with crimes, many were found guilty and several went to prison.

On June 17^th, 1972, five men were arrested for breaking into the offices of the Democratic National Committee at the Watergate Hotel; they were there seeking documents and were going to wiretap the phones. The Nixon administration denied any involvement and then tried to cover-up the evidence to the contrary.

Throughout much of the investigation the President maintained he had no knowledge of the break-in. Senator Howard Baker verbalized what many people were wondering at the time, “What did the President know and when did he know it?”

Shakopee native, Maurice Stans, became famous (or infamous) for his role in the Nixon administration. Stans resigned as Secretary of Commerce to become the finance manager for the Committee for the Reelection of the President (CREEP- the acronym of the committee, not the President). Even though part of the money raised for the campaign was used to finance some of the Watergate activities, Stans denied any knowledge of the crimes and was never convicted of such.

Many years ago Mr. Stans established a foundation for philanthropic purposes in Shakopee. In addition to educational scholarships and awards for Shakopee students, a house, land and money was given for the establishment of a museum in Shakopee. Beginning this month, the Scott County Historical Society is hosting an exhibit about the Watergate scandal at the Stans museum.

Last week David Peterson from the Minneapolis Star Tribune asked me what I thought about the Watergate exhibition in Shakopee. “I actually think it’s a nonissue for people today,” I said. I don’t think most people even know about it, I really don’t. Those that do know would have forgiven or forgotten. That is what we do as Americans. We move on.”

The more I thought about my answer the more it sounded like I was saying.  “What difference does it make now?”  But I think it should matter. It’s wrong when the President lies to the American people and then covers up the lie. Time may muddle the memory, but it does not change the facts. If it was wrong then, it remains wrong now.

Forty years have gone by, and we are on our seventh President since Nixon boarded a helicopter and left the presidency. Perhaps each of the seven who followed has misled the American people, either because of national security (perhaps excusable) or selfish ambition (should be impeachable); either way we seem to tolerate such behavior more than we used to, more than we should; we have come to expect it and accept it. It’s not healthy for the country.

None of us is without fault or without sin so we are tempted to excuse the bad behavior of elected officials as common place and ordinary. One deliberate misstatement from one person may make it easier for the next to mislead, but we all agree two wrongs don’t make a right. Two Wrights did make an airplane, however. (Sorry, that joke is an old favorite of mine).

We should not take comfort when it is someone from our side of the aisle lying to advance our agenda under the belief that the ends justify the means. When we apply different ethics to different situations it becomes impossible to ever know when the truth is being told.  If a person is willing to lie for us for our benefit, they may be just as willing to lie to us for their benefit.

How far we have slid; a lot has changed in forty years.  I’m not sure if wiretapping, lying to the American people, obstruction of justice, and abuse of power or contempt of Congress is even considered wrong anymore.

Off Key

I have come to appreciate keyless entry, at least as a backup. Even if you don’t have the key, you can still open the door. You just have to know the password.

Last week I was approached by someone looking for a key to a door I haven’t opened in a long time.  As the door did not have keyless entry and no other keys could be found, I went through my known collection of keys conveniently located in two separate drawers nine miles apart, trying to find it.

I did not find the key they needed, but I did find a key to a truck I no longer own, a house I have not lived at in twenty years, a key to my parent’s house (which was sold many years ago), keys to paddle locks (some with the paddles, some not), many keys that will forever remain a mystery but cannot be discarded (just in case) and skeleton keys to reveal the contents of a closet or to simply wind a clock.

The skeleton keys, which still work on some of the interior doors in our old house, remind me of the keys used for an older style of roller skates. When I was at the Catholic grade school, kids were allowed to skate in the church basement after school or on Saturdays. There was a generous supply of skates, and by using the key, the skates could be adjusted to fit over almost any child’s shoe.  

I can still hear the sounds of the metal wheels being rolled round and round the basement. The kids were unsupervised and the church was unlocked. It’s wasn’t that long ago when locks were considered optional.

When we bought our house twenty years ago the owner had keys made for the exterior door locks; he had long since lost the original keys because he never locked the house – even when he went on vacation. We lock the house now, and I’m pretty sure I have the keys, and I ‘m pretty sure so do some of the neighbors.

Our neighbors have a copy of our house key so they can water our plants and watch our TV when we’re on vacation.  Plus, it’s good to know a spare is just around the corner if you lock yourself out, something my parents had never learned.

As the kids aged most of us had our turn crawling through the bathroom window to unlock the front door for the rest of the family. I can remember being lifted through the window by my father; I can also remember being scolded by my father because I took a moment to use the bathroom before I unlocked the front door.

You give your neighbors keys to your house, and you give your family and friends the keys to your heart. The latter ones are harder to replace if lost or abused. The more I use these keys in front of me to find the right word the more I realize that happiness cannot be opened with a key or secured with a lock, because it’s not found behind a door or in a box. You just have to know the password: love.

I believe that the key to happiness in life is love, and as Victor Hugo wrote in Les Miserables “The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved."

Inn Keeper

Last Friday I was once again talking about my junior high math teacher, Mr. L, and the two things he said in class that have stayed with me for over forty years: First, a hot water heater is incorrectly named because hot water doesn’t need to be heated.  Secondly, to respond to a question about the quality of something by saying, “It’s good, if you like it,” is silly; because, of course something is good if you like it.

I can only guess what you’re thinking – “What does that have to do with math? It doesn’t add up.” I don’t know, maybe it was “the new math,” or it was the early 70’s, and we were still recovering from the 60’s. Perhaps Mr. L was teaching us to think logically, or he was just being human.

I got a chance to talk to him about that and a few other things last weekend. My wife, Rhonda, and I had just checked into an inn in Southern Minnesota, and while I made sure the TV worked properly she did some exploring.

When she got back to the room, she told me that I needed to return to the front desk and meet the owner, as he was a former teacher of mine. Even though she told me his name I probably would have recognized him anyway. But it was his voice, the measured cadence of his words and the way his eyes could scan a room without moving his head that brought me back to 1972 and Belle Plaine.

“You look like your dad,” he said to me as I rounded the corner.  “You still look the same,” I said. “Except for the missing moustache and the hair color, you still look the same.”

We talked about a lot of things: his teaching career that was disrupted by the draft, the study hall in B29 which was a large room in the basement of the school, where one teacher had to monitor scores of kids, and my brother Dan, who was in Mr. L’s psychology class. For that class Dan trained a mouse to perform a series of exercises to be rewarded with food. The mouse climbed a ladder, pulled a string which opened a door, hopped in a little truck which rolled down a ramp and two or three other tasks.

Mr. L was not aware that Dan had died last year, but a lot can happen in forty some years.

During that same period of time Mr. L had taught in a few other towns besides Belle Plaine, became a superintendent of schools, purchased an old building, converted it and became an inn keeper.

Hearing him talk about all the “wonderful people,” he had met over the years and how he described his time in the military as “a vacation,” reminded me of a parable which I shared with him.

A traveler asked a farmer working in his field what the people in the next village were like. The farmer asked him "What were the people like where you came from?" The traveler responded "They were kind, friendly, generous, great people." "You'll find the people in the next village are the same," said the farmer.

Later, another traveler asked the farmer about the people in the next village. Again the farmer asked "What were the people like where you came from?" The second traveler responded, "They were rude, unfriendly, dishonest people." "You'll find the people in the next village are the same," said the farmer.

Through teaching, military service, school administration, rehabilitating an old building and owning an inn, no matter where he went Mr. L encountered kind, decent people because that’s what he expected to find. Once again, Mr. L taught me something valuable. People are good if you like them.

We Are Not Alone

I enjoy dreaming along with the writers of science fiction books, TV and movies, but for a daily dose of reality and to keep my feet firmly planted on planet Earth I read the papers, watch my share of television news, listen to the radio, browse the web and try and stay informed. To celebrate Earth Day I turned on the TV and saw a story about the Human 2 Mars Summit, which was held that day in Washington D.C.

NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) administrator Charles Bolden gave a speech in support of Mars exploration. "If this species is to survive indefinitely, we need to become a multi-planet species," Bolden said. "We, today, are Earth-reliant. We're dependent on being on this planet. We are not a multi-planet species yet … Only multi-planet species survive for long periods of time."

Thinking perhaps I had misunderstood him, I hit the replay button on my DVR and listened to him again.  Later, still in a state of disbelief, I went to the internet in an attempt to verify what I thought I heard him say.  I found his remarks at www.space.com/25594-nasa-mars-missions-multi-planet-species.html

“Only multi-planet species survive for long periods of time." That’s quite a statement from the administrator of NASA, who was appointed by President Barack Obama in 2009. Bolden is also a retired United States Marine Corps Major General and former NASA astronaut. Obviously the man’s not alien to space travel.

But what manner of multi-planet life is Bolden referring to? I am not aware of any species from other planets – single or multi. I also have not read or heard about anyone from this planet who has taken up long term residence on another planet. Even Mr. Bolden seems to agree as he stated, “We are not a multi-planet species yet.”

So he must be referring to those from other planets who have survived for long periods of time on planets (Earth?) other than their own. To my knowledge life with multi-planet residencies exists only in pretend – in books, movies and TV.  I refer to Barrie, Roddenberry and Bradbury.

J. M. Barrie, the author of Peter Pan, told us how to get to Neverland, “Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.” Captain Kirk from the TV show and then movie, Star Trek, even quoted this line when he instructed his navigator, Chekov, during the final moments in a movie. Gene Roddenberry created Star Trek and the original shows began with this retelling of the five year mission of the starship Enterprise, “…to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

Although space may be the final frontier, I don’t believe we have yet encountered new life or new civilizations past the first or even the second star. We may someday; I pray they’re friendly.

The administrator of NASA may be trying to introduce us to the benefits of multi-planet residency. I just hope someday he doesn’t say, “If you like your planet you can keep your planet,” because I like it here and I don’t want to move. Either Bolden was telling the truth because he knows something we don’t, or he was dreaming.

Ray Bradbury, the author of The Martian Chronicles, a collection of short stories about the colonization of Mars by humans wrote, “You don’t question Providence. If you can’t have the reality, a dream is just as good.”