Sacred Structures

Preface:

            Man’s expression of faith takes many forms, and the physical church structures are no exception.  The following photos of cathedrals, churches, chapels and temples show the variety of this expression, and the different settings in which they were placed.

            Whenever I’m near a church, a magnetic pull compels me to view and photograph the details.  The photos are some of my favorites, and I provide a snippet of what impressed me at the time of the photograph.

Sacred Structures
photos and comments by
Gregory E. Larson, AIA

EVESHAM, ENGLAND

            What could be more special than to attend a summer wedding on the banks of the River Avon in England’s green and pleasant land?  Gretta and I jumped at the invitation, and were awed by the history of the site of ruins of the 8^th century Benedictine abbey, and the 16^th century Abbey bell tower, adjacent to the All Saints Anglican Church in Evesham, England.

Evesham Abbey, 16th century bell tower - Evesham, England

All Saints Church built in 12th century - Evesham, England

ACTON BURNELL, ENGLAND

            Hidden in a corner of Shropshire countryside is the village of Acton Burnell.  The small St. Mary’s Church (built in the 13^th century) is located adjacent to the ruins of Acton Burnell Castle, which was the site of the first Parliament of England.  Gretta and I visited on a cool, gray day, our heels clicking on the stone floor in the dark church.  I noticed a stone plaque which listed the death of a member of the prominent Smythe family in 1776, the same year as U.S. independence from England.

St. Mary's Church with castle ruins beyond - Acton Burnell, England

ST. DAVID’S, WALES

            St. David’s Cathedral, near the west coast of Wales, was constructed during 12th to the 14th century in a low spot of land, adjacent to a creek, so it is not visible from a distance.  When the large cathedral was first used, Pope Calixtus II declared that two pilgrimages to St. David’s were equivalent to one pilgrimage to Rome.

St. David's Cathedral nestled in the hills - St. David's, Wales

Interior ceiling of the central tower - St. David's Cathedral

ST. NON’S, WALES

My favorite places are the smaller, out-of-the-way sites, surrounded by nature.  Such is St. Non’s, on the coast of Wales, just south of the city of St. David’s.

St. Non’s is located at the birth site of St. David.  The official story is that Llanon (now St. Non), while living as a nun at nearby Caerfai, was raped by Prince Sandde of Ceredigion.  She gave birth to a son, David, in approximately 500 A.D.  David founded the town which eventually became St. David's. He is the patron saint of Wales. The chapel seen here is a modern chapel built in 1934.  Adjacent to the chapel are the old chapel foundations and a holy well.

St. Non's Chapel overlooking the Welsh coastline

St. Non's Chapel is a place to contemplate nature and listen to the sea

ST. GOVAN’S, WALES

            One of the more unusual holy sites in Wales is St. Govan’s chapel on the coastal cliffs near the town of Bosherston.

            The chapel was built on the site where a man named Govan hid in a miraculous opening of the rocks in the sixth century to escape pirates from Ireland.  The story is that he lived as a hermit in a cave on the site for the rest of his life.

St. Govan's Chapel set in the seaside cliffs

ST. PETERS – ROME, ITALY

            Everything about St. Peter’s is massive: the square, the sanctuary, the basilica, and the dome.  I felt I was at ground zero for Christendom in Western Civilization. In addition to the sheer size of the place, the details inside and outside are almost too much for the mind to comprehend in one visit.

Morning sunlight filters into St. Peter's Cathedral

St. Peter's Square with view towards Cathedral and dome

SANTA MARIA DEL FIORE – FLORENCE, ITALY

            A Florence View was the name of the bed and breakfast establishment from which I took the photo of the façade of Santa Maria del Fiore. Another highlight was the tour of the dome which is the largest masonry dome in existence.

View of Santa Maria del Fiore from our room

Dome at Santa Maria del Fiore - Florence, Italy

ORVIETO, ITALY

            This Renaissance façade on the Cathedral at Orvieto, Italy is a jaw-dropper.  Gold leaf is included in the entry details, and on the mosaic murals which fill the façade.  We walked into the sanctuary and listened to the organ and choir on a Sunday afternoon.  I thought I’d walked back into the Renaissance period.

Street view towards Orvieto Cathedral

Mosaics fill the spaces on the Renassaince facade

NOTRE DAME  - PARIS, FRANCE

            The Cathedral of Our Lady is located on the Ile de la Cite in the heart of Paris.  The gothic details emerge as gargoyles and grotesques.  A special treat was the exterior tour which allowed us to see the roof and tower details close up.  

The east side of Notre Dame Cathedral - Paris, France

Gargoyles, grotesques and other details - Notre Dame Cathedral

Eagle statue at Notre Dame Cathedral

SAINTE CHAPELLE – PARIS, FRANCE

            Sainte Chapelle is also located on the Ile de la Cite in Paris, but it is lesser known than Notre Dame.  The church was constructed in the middle of the 13th century, and at the time, the stained glass windows were the largest in the world.  The windows depict the story of the bible from beginning to end.

St. Chapelle - Paris, France

Interior side of stained glass window - St. Chapelle

HEINZ CHAPEL – PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA

            The vertical exterior of Heinz Chapel on the campus of Pittsburgh University seems to emulate the details of Sainte Chapelle in Paris. The chapel is a popular spot for Pittsburgh weddings.

 

 

 

MORMON TEMPLE - KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI

            Although I was able to tour the temple before it was dedicated, interior pictures were not allowed.  I was surprised there is no large sanctuary.  The largest room held fifty-four people.  On the tour, I learned that the temple is used for special religious occasions that are outside the functions of the local Mormon churches.  The interior was full of rich detail, with oak and marble trim, painted murals, sculptured carpets, and gold-leaf tracery on some of the ceilings.

The new Mormon Temple in Kansas City, Missouri

WICHITA, KANSAS

            The First United Methodist Church in Wichita, Kansas, a church of modern design, was completed in 1961.  It is where I attended as a boy.  Much of my faith, as well as my interest in art and architecture began there.

  


CHRISTIAN CHURCH – CHASE COUNTY, KANSAS

            To me, the simple setting for this Christian Church at the cemetery near Elmdale, Kansas, moved my soul as much or more than the ornate churches.  The prairie wind washed over me and I felt God’s power and man’s temporal existence on earth.

Cemetery and church near Elmdale, Kansas

A church in the Flint Hills of Kansas

A Sea Captain's True Test

The west coast of Italy
(photo by Greg Larson)

Preface: 

             At the end of our bicycle tour across Italy in the summer of 2005, my wife, Gretta, and I dipped the front wheels of our bicycles into the Mediterranean waters off the west coast.  We also took the time to visit the postage-stamp-of-a-beach near Porto Ercole.  The patches of sand were scarce, due to the jagged volcanic rocks which hugged the coastline.

After seeing the recent news about the shipwreck of the Italian ocean liner Costa Concordia, we looked on the map of Italy.  To our amazement, the large ship had capsized near the island of Giglio, just ten miles from where we had completed our bike tour.  It didn’t surprise me when I read that a gash in the ship’s hull, 160 feet in length, occurred when the ship came too close to the island’s shore.  I could visualize the sharp rock shelf hidden beneath the water.

A Sea Captain’s True Test

essay

by Greg Larson

            What would you do if your world was literally sinking, and you were responsible for the lives of those on board your ship?  Any captain of a large ocean-going vessel bears the burden that he or she may someday have to answer that question.  It can only be definitively answered when the crisis occurs, and we know that human behavior varies from person to person and circumstance to circumstance.

            The recent incident involving the Costa Concordia has prompted me to compare the actions of two Italian sea captains, and expose the differences in their behavior before, during, and after the sinking of their respective ships. 

Captain Francesco Schettino was at the helm of the cruise ship, Costa Concordia, on January 13, 2012, when it struck the rocky coast of the Italian island of Giglio. 

The other captain, Piero Calamai, was in command of the ocean liner Andrea Doria, which was struck broadside by another passenger ship, the Stockholm, during the foggy night of July 25, 1956, off the U.S. coast, about fifty miles southwest of the island of Nantucket.  The disaster was voted one of the top ten news stories of 1956.

***

            The early news reports about the sinking of the Costa Concordia have highlighted the apparently shameful and negligent behavior of the captain, Francesco Schettino.  And the evidence continues to mount against him as the facts are slowly coming forth from court hearings and from interviews with co-workers regarding captain Schettino’s actions during the disaster.

On the evening of January 13, 2012, Captain Schettino dined on board with a female passenger.  After dinner, he increased the speed of the 114,500 ton ship to sixteen knots, and he manually steered the giant vessel close to the coastline of Giglio, to pay homage to a former captain and co-worker.  At 9:42 P.M., the ship’s port (left) side came in contact with a rocky shelf along the coastline, creating a gash 160 feet long, piercing numerous compartments in the hull.  The engine room began to flood, and the ship lost its main power.

The ship was adrift, with 4,200 passengers on board.  Miraculously, the ship turned and drifted back towards the island.  Some speculate the captain attempted to steer the ship, while others speculate the wind caused the ship to turn and drift towards the island shore.  Schettino conversed by phone with the executives of the ship’s company, Costa Cruises, while the ship began to list from its normal vertical position.

At 10:06 P.M., the Italian Coast Guard contacted Schettino, but he denied the ship was in distress, and he stated that he was having electrical problems but the situation was under control.  The coast guard contacted the captain again at 10:16 P.M., and he admitted that water was coming into the hull.  At 10:30 P.M., with the ship listing at twenty degrees, he sent out a Mayday signal.  With many of the passengers and crew already commencing evacuation procedures, Schettino reluctantly gave orders to abandon ship at 10:50 P.M.

The ship ran aground and began to list at an extreme angle. Eventually it capsized.

At 11:40 P.M., the captain reportedly entered a lifeboat with the second-in-command.  The captain claims he fell into the lifeboat, due to the extreme listing of the ship.  Many passengers were still on board.

At 12:42 A.M., a captain with the Italian Coast Guard, Gregorio De Falco, contacted Schettino via cell phone.  Here is a portion of the transcript:

·         De Falco: "You go aboard [the Costa Concordia]. It is an order. Don't make any more excuses. You have declared 'abandon ship.' Now I am in charge. You go on board! Is that clear? Do you hear me? Go, and call me when you are aboard. My air rescue crew is there."

·         Schettino: "Where are your rescuers?"

·         De Falco: "My air rescue is on the prow. Go. There are already bodies, Schettino."

·         Schettino: "How many bodies are there?"

·         De Falco: "I don't know. I have heard of one. You are the one who has to tell me how many there are. Christ."

·         Schettino: "But do you realize it is dark and here we can't see anything…"

·         De Falco: "And so what? You want to go home, Schettino? It is dark and you want to go home? Get on that prow of the boat using the pilot ladder and tell me what can be done, how many people there are and what their needs are. Now!"

Schettino never returned to the ship. He was arrested on charges of manslaughter, causing a shipwreck, and abandoning ship.  After a court hearing, Schettino was placed under house arrest at his home near Naples, Italy.  Executives for the company which owns the $450 million ship (Costa Cruises, a subsidiary of Carnival Cruises) are also under scrutiny by the authorities.

Roberto Bosio, an off-duty captain, was on board the Costa Concordia.  Once it was apparent that the ship was sinking, he helped with the evacuation operation, and is considered one of the heroes of the night.

“It was the most horrible experience of my life,” said Bosio, “A tragedy, a heartache that I will carry with me forever.  Don’t call me a hero.  I just did my duty, the duty of a sea captain – actually the duty of a normal man.  I and the others with me just did our duty.  We looked each other in the eyes for a second and then we just got on with it.”

One of the ship’s officers, Martino Pellegrino was quoted in one of the Italian newspapers with the following comment:  “If I had to make a comparison, we got the impression that he [Schettino] would drive a bus like a Ferrari.”

The Costa Concordia off the island of Giglio
(internet photo)

 At the time of this writing, thirty persons who were on board the Costa Concordia have been confirmed dead, and two persons are still missing.  Based on the available information, it appears that the tragedy could have easily been avoided.

***

Captain Piero Calamai was the commander of Italy’s passenger flagship, the Andrea Doria, on July 25, 1956.

With 1,706 passengers and crew on board, the Andrea Doria was near the end of its voyage from Italy to New York.  During the afternoon, with concern about fog which was forecast for the remainder of the day, Captain Calamai stayed on the bridge.  He left twice to go to his cabin, and quickly returned each time.  He ordered a light supper to be delivered to him on the bridge. The meal consisted of soup, a small piece of meat, and an apple. 

The fog began in the afternoon and continued to worsen as the ship approached the U.S. coast.  Calamai’s foremost worry was the sea traffic around the Nantucket lightship, which was located about fifty miles off the coast of Nantucket Island.  The lightship was a barge with a warning light strategically positioned to warn ships of the shallow ocean depth near the island.  At 10:20 P.M. the Andrea Doria passed the lightship.

As darkness fell, the passsenger ship, Stockholm, approached the Nantucket lightship from New York, having embarked from the city in the afternoon.  The Stockholm and the Andrea Doria were traveling towards each other at a combined rate of forty knots per hour. Within twenty nautical miles of each other, both ships were able to determine their respective locations through the use of basic radar.  The ships were manned with competent crews, but errors were made in determining each other’s position as they continued to approach.

At 11:07 P.M., members of each crew made visual sightings from a distance of 1.9 nautical miles as the Andrea Doria came out of a thick patch of fog.  They each made changes in their direction, in an attempt to pass.  Unfortunately, these changes put them on a collision path.  In a slow motion drama, the Andrea Doria crossed in front of the Stockholm, which reversed its engines in an attempt to brake before impact.

At 11:10 P.M., The Stockholm’s bow struck hard on the starboard (right) side of the Andrea Doria.  Both ships quickly closed all compartment doors to prevent flooding to other compartments.

The ships were supposedly designed to remain seaworthy with two compartments flooded.  The front two compartments of the Stockholm were damaged, but it remained upright.  Captain Calamai in the Andrea Doria, was confident that his ship would remain seaworthy, since only two of the ship’s compartments had been breached.  To his surprise, the ship quickly listed eighteen degrees to starboard.  It was supposed to list only fifteen degrees in the worst conditions.  As the listing worsened, Captain Calamai quickly sent out a Mayday signal.

Unknown to Captain Calamai, there was a flaw in the ship’s design.  During the investigation, weeks after the crash, it was determined the ship’s fuel tanks were required to be full to properly ballast the ship from listing during compartment breaches.  But the Andrea Doria was near the completion of its voyage, and its fuel tanks were almost empty when it was struck by the Stockholm.

Several freighters in the vicinity quickly responded and brought a small number of lifeboats to assist in the evacuation of the Andrea Doria.  The captain of the Stockholm was concerned about his ship’s safety, but agreed to allow half of the Stockholm’s lifeboats to assist in the rescue. The first few hours of the evacuation were chaotic, and many of the restaurant and housekeeping staff of the Andrea Doria were rescued before the passengers were assisted down ropes and put into lifeboats on the low side of the sinking ship.

The savior of the night was the French flagship, the Ile de France, located fifty miles east of the disaster and on its way to Le Havre, France, with 1,766 passengers and crew on board.  Although he was under no obligation to assist, the captain of the Ile de France, Baron Raoul de Beaudien, quickly understood the urgency of the situation.  Even though he knew a delay would cost his company dearly, he made the proper and ethical decision to turn around.

At 2:00 A.M. on July 26th, he slowly situated his ship parallel to the Andrea Doria, creating a lagoon which allowed for a smooth rescue operation.  Captain Beaudien’s decisions made him the hero of the night.

Captain Calamai and his closest crew members remained on board the empty Andrea Doria.  As the sun rose in the clear morning air, the ship was listing more than thirty degrees, and there was concern the damaged behemoth would tip and sink at any moment.

The empty Andrea Doria on the morning of July 26, 1956
(internet photo)

 Those closest to Captain Calamai said he looked as if he had aged more than ten years in six hours.  Although 1,662 passengers and crew were evacuated from the ship (the Ile de France rescued 753 people), forty-six persons from the Andrea Doria perished, due to the collision, or from injuries sustained in the rescue operation.

Captain Calamai’s subordinates tried to convince him to join them in a lifeboat, but he remained on the Andrea Doria.  His second in command, Staff Captain Magagnini, climbed back up the rope and implored the captain to abandon ship.  He told Piero Calamai that if he remained onboard, all of the immediate crew would come back up the rope and stay with him.  Finally, against the centuries-old code of the sea which requires a captain to remain with his ship in distress, he acquiesced to his crewman’s plea, and climbed down the rope and into the lifeboat.

In the peaceful morning light of July 26, 1956, the Andrea Doria began to sink under the surface.  At 10:09 in the morning, the stern of the ship tilted upward.  With the large rudder and propellers briefly visible, it then disappeared and settled to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, at a depth of approximately 225 feet.

Captain Calamai’s spirit for the sea died when he saw the ship go down.  After the tragedy, he was quoted as saying, “When I was a boy, and all my life, I loved the sea; now I hate it.”

Human behavior is a strange thing.  It is impossible for us to know how each of us would react if we were put in the situations of Captain Schettino and Captain Calamai.  Sometimes our inner being and our integrity aren’t revealed until we are put under extreme stress. We can each wonder if we would direct all of our energy and assistance to save the lives of the helpless from the depths of the sea.

The Mediterranean Sea
(photo by Greg Larson)

Note: The facts regarding the recent Costa Concordia incident were from reliable internet news sources.  The facts regarding the sinking of the Andrea Doria were from the book Collision Course, by Alvin Moscow, copyright 1959, Grosset & Dunlap, New York, New York.

New Life

memoir and essay
by Greg Larson

The odd-shaped pieces of oak caught my attention as I peered over the edge of the dumpster.  Many of the pieces were curved, with the color and finish of antique furniture.  My curiosity was aroused, so I found an opening into the odorous bin and carefully stepped through the maze of trash to inspect the discovery.  Someone had discarded the parts of an old wooden chair with a curved back, vertical stiles and serpentine arms. The scooped wood seat and legs were intact.  One of the arms was broken and a portion of it was missing. It was the type of chair used in old courtrooms or police stations.  Its life as a piece of furniture had come to an end . . . or so it seemed.

Questions rolled around in my head.  When was the chair built, and where? Who used it, and in what setting?  I don’t know why, but something compelled me to resurrect it.

At that time, in my early adulthood, I had minimal woodworking skills, but I thought what the heck, I might learn something.  It was my hope that I could put the pieces of the wooden puzzle back together, and repair or replace the broken parts to make it whole and functional again.  

The process was slow.  I started by removing the layers of dirt and grime from each piece.  Then I stripped the finish and sanded all of the surfaces.  I could smell the distinctive odor of the oak as the sawdust filled my nostrils.  I sensed the chair coming back to life again. 

The most difficult task was replacing a portion of the curved arm that was missing at the connection to the back. The grain and finish of the new piece didn’t match the old chair, and the repair was crude by professional standards. But I was excited to have a chair - one with character.

Over the years, I’ve found old pieces of utilitarian furniture to save, or discovered ways to build something from discarded pieces of wood.   Our house has an eclectic mix of furniture.  It’s the variety that makes life interesting. 

As I’ve collected and repaired things, I’ve come to understand the American culture of marketing and consumerism doesn’t resonate with the patient and methodical re-use of discarded items.  We receive a daily drubbing of advertisements that advocate using things and throwing them away.  We’re supposed to be in a hurry.  The implication is that time is money, so it’s okay to buy new stuff.  The infomercials tell us so.

With the downturn in the economy, the public attitude has shifted, and that’s a good thing.  People are finding ways to repair their cars, and re-use furniture and other accoutrements found about the home.  I hope we continue to value those items that still have life left in them.

Sadly, there are people in our society who end up like the discarded pieces of furniture - used up, worn out, and left behind.  But these people are not inanimate objects. They have lives with feelings and emotions.

In my volunteer work at the Learning Center at City Union Mission, I assist men who are re-educating themselves to become productive members of society.   Many of them came from fatherless homes, or at best, dysfunctional homes.  Most of these men were addicted to drugs or alcohol, and they have low self-esteem and a limited education.  Although they want to change, they don’t know how to go about it.  They have a distrust of authority figures, and their spiritual life is almost non-existent.

Over several months, The Christian Life Program at City Union Mission helps the men rebuild their lives one piece at a time, from the inside out.  The professionals at the Mission provide them with counseling, medical attention, customized learning plans and spiritual guidance.  The men are put on a path to graduate from the program, get a job and a find a place to live.

My part as a volunteer is small, but I look forward to seeing the men each week.  I show them how to work on the computer, answer their math and English questions, and help them with their writing skills. I also like to memorize their names and faces as quickly as possible so that I can look them in the eye and greet them by name.  Showing that I care helps build their self-esteem.

I’ve seen men come into the program with hardened hearts, bad attitudes, and bruised emotions covered by their physical veneers – to the point that I thought there was no hope of rebuilding their lives.  But over time, the City Union Mission staff goes about helping the men turn things around.  I also know God is working within each man.  Over the weeks, their hearts appear to soften, and a calm and peaceful facet of their demeanor begins to appear.  Eventually, some come to greet me with a smile and they thank me for being there.  I see their true happiness as they graduate and tell me they’ve found a job and will be moving out.

My role as a volunteer has helped me see people as people, not just as figures on the street.  This last Christmas season, one of the men took the responsibility to find a Christmas card and walk it around to the other men in the class to sign. I remembered him as one of the toughest men with a bad attitude when he came into the program several months ago.  At the end of the class, he handed me the card and wished me a Merry Christmas.  Then he thanked me for coming each week. 

I know his best days are ahead.  Instead of being discarded by our society, he has a new life.

Simple Things

Simple Things

essay

By Greg Larson

     The clothes dryer had been dismantled by the repairman, and parts were strewn about the basement washroom.

     While he efficiently replaced the broken belt and pulley, I commented, “Looks pretty complicated to me.”

     “Actually, you have one of the simple older models,” he replied.  “The new models have a lot of electronics, and they are much more complicated.  They cost more, too.  But the crazy thing is people are buying them like hotcakes.  Go figure.”

     Whatever happened to the simple way of doing things?  Electric dryers didn’t exist for centuries.  You know, the sun does a pretty good job of drying clothes.  I guess I could stretch out some wire in the back yard, as long as the neighbors don’t complain.

     Simple tools, simple solutions, simple designs . . . I like things with few moving parts, especially those tools or appliances that don’t have a motor.  Clearly, there are motorized gadgets and electronic inventions, computers included, which help us complete our tasks more quickly and efficiently.  I’m all for that.  But sometimes we become slaves to their operation and maintenance.

     I’m sure you can think of those simple things to which you’ve become attached: an apple slicer handed down through generations, or a saw or chisel which fits like a glove when you grasp it.  I get a Zen-like feeling when I’m using a simple hand tool in the kitchen, the yard or the quiet of the workshop.  While working on a task, a functional and emotional bond develops between me and the tool.  We become one.  Maybe it’s the cave-man genetics taking control.

I wonder if the patent is still pending.

     Since man began using his brainpower, there have been those inventors out there in the far corners of civilization who experienced revelations of utter simplicity; solutions that were far from being complex. There is a functional aesthetic to these conveniences.  The inherent beauty shines through because there are no frills, no wasted parts.   Someone was confronted with a problem to be solved – such as hiking in snow – and a solution of necessity was created:  wood and leather foundations strapped to the feet.

A functional aesthetic

     Another simple device is the wire candle-holder.  The curved and spiral shape is pleasing to look at, and the wooden plug and pin at the base of the candle allow the user to raise the candle as it burns shorter.  This function keeps the flame at its high point.  Another version of this candle holder was used by the gold miners.  It had a horizontal spike at its base for anchoring into the walls of the mine tunnels. Of course, now we use electricity for light bulbs of every size and shape imaginable . . . another complex subject with political overtones that I’ll not tackle here.

     One of my favorite tools is the patented Stanley saw-blade handle that hangs on my shop wall. It is one of my most valuable tools, and it’s worth its weight in gold.  There’s not much to it.  You won’t see any multi-million dollar marketing campaigns to sell it, because there’s not any profit to be made.  I think it came as a freebie with a more expensive purchase.  But it is one of the best problem-solvers that I have.  I can trim metal, wood, drywall, caulking . . . you name it.  The saw blade fits into very tight locations, and it is possible to use very short blade strokes while sawing.  Try doing that with a power saw. 

Worth its weight in gold.

     I appreciate good design, but I don’t want to try and overthink it.  Then it would be complex instead of simple.  After bonding with the tools, it’s nice to relax and have a beer.  I like the old ales that have bottle caps which require a tool to pry them off.  The twist-off caps are ingenious, but I’ve cut my fingers on them.  The wall-mounted bottle opener leaves nothing to chance.  The bottle opener which I’ve mounted on the wall has instructions on how to use it, but you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out.  That’s the beauty of the design . . . it’s so simple.

It's so simple.

Different Places

Different Places
memoir
by Greg Larson

     We were only a few miles from home, but it seemed like a third-world country.  The signs on the buildings along Central Avenue in Kansas City, Kansas, were in Spanish.  The surviving businesses had bars on the windows.  Boards covered the windows on the businesses that had closed.  Sirens and their echoes were constant, a fact of life in the neighborhood. 

     A friend of mine from church, Rich, invited me to help him on a Hope Builders project.  Their motto is “Helping others live in safety, comfort, and dignity.”  If I had been asked to come up with the motto, I’d have called it, “Handy-man SWAT team for the needy.”  If you are retired and good with tools, it’s a great volunteer opportunity.  Two of the most important things for those living in the inner-city neighborhoods are to have a door that locks, and to have the cracks in the walls insulated.

     This was our second trip to help Rita, an older Hispanic woman.  She lived on a side street, in a narrow two-story white house with clapboard siding and a covered front porch.  The fenced front yard was full of figurines, statues, and pots full of colorful plastic flowers.  Tucked near the porch was an arched shrine to St. Mary with an American flag hooked to the arch and fluttering in the breeze.  Her dog, Pogo, a mutt with unkempt hair, barked and looked at us as if he were saying, “I don’t trust anyone but Rita.” 

     A protective dog is good to have if you live alone in this neighborhood.

     On our first trip a couple of months ago, we replaced a rotted door jamb to the basement storage, and trimmed the edge of the old door so that it would shut and lock.  Today we were going install a new storm door on the back of the house, to replace the one mangled by burglars.

     “I never expected you to come back,” said Rita.  “You are an answer to my prayers.”

     Rich measured the rear door and was off to Home Depot in a flash.  I painted the basement door jamb, and then went to the front porch to wait for his return.  It seemed surreal, sitting in the warm sun on the November day in a place that seemed so far away from my own neighborhood.  The sunshine warmed the houses on the hillside, and I was comfortable sitting on the porch in the wire chair with the flower-print vinyl cushion.

     “Hola!” a neighbor yelled across the fence.  Rita walked over to her and chatted briefly in Spanish. The neighbor handed her some papers, then Rita walked back to the porch steps.

     “I translate their legal papers for them.  It’s the least I can do.  I just tell them I need to read it carefully so that I can explain it correctly.”

     She re-arranged some of the plastic flowers by the shrine and said, “Thank God for such a beautiful day.  Did you celebrate Veteran’s Day last week?  I feel so sorry for the men who have to fight in these wars.  All my brothers and uncles were in the military.  They were so proud to serve our country.”

     I was embarrassed that I hadn’t given it much thought.   I said, “The weather was nice  on Veterans Day, wasn’t it?”

    That was when I realized she had placed the flag at the shrine to celebrate Veteran’s Day.  It was her way of showing appreciation and respect for those who served our country.

     “I really like all the statues and flowers you have in your yard,” I remarked.

     “I don’t throw anything away.  I find the bargains at the garage sales and flea markets, and I store a lot of things in the basement.”

     That was an understatement. I’d seen her basement.  

     “I wash these flowers and change things with the seasons,” she said.  “I like to put out stuff for the children . . . for them to see when they walk by.”  She walked over to the fence and repositioned one of the black cat silhouettes left over from Halloween.  Then she turned and grinned wide enough that I could see the spaces where some of her teeth were missing.

     I don’t think I’ve met a happier person living in such rough conditions.  She has no car.  She barely has enough money for groceries and utilities.  The newspaper is one of her few connections to the outside world.  But she is happy.

     Rich returned and we carried the new storm door to the back of the house.  I tore open the carton and we mulled over the eight pages of instructions.  It took us about two hours to install the door, but we enjoyed the camaraderie and the warm sunshine.  We went about our business, all the while joking about the instructions and what type of sadistic person had written them.

     Finally, the door was in place and it actually worked.  Rich picked up as many tools as he could carry, and went to load them in the van.  I cut the cardboard carton into smaller pieces.

     “Rita, I’d be glad to take the old door and the cardboard to the front yard to make it easier for you to put out the trash,” I offered.

     “Oh, no!  The city will fine me for putting it out before trash day.”

     The front yard was full of yard art.  How would they ever know?

     I worried that she would try to move the door herself.  “Okay,” I said, “Be sure and find somebody to carry that door.  It’s too heavy for you.”

     As we were leaving, she talked to Rich.  “How can I ever thank you.  God bless both of you.  Who can I send a letter to thank them for what you’ve done?”

     Rich patiently wrote out an address and gave it to her while I loaded some tools in the car.

     We said “good-bye,” and as we drove away, I looked back at Rita and Pogo, standing in the front yard.  That’s when it hit me:  We all live in different places, different houses.  We also live in different places in our minds . . . places from the hand we are dealt and places of our own choosing.

     Some people find happiness wherever they may be.  One of them is Rita

Grandma Beck's Ghost of Christmas

Grandma Beck's Ghost of Christmas

memoir

by Greg Larson

        It was the waning hours of Christmas Day in the early ‘90’s.  My brother, Tim, and I were in a state of semi-sleep, on the living room floor listening to the ten o’clock news. We’d had a long day, from the kids getting up early in the morning, from opening packages…too much TV football, too much turkey, ham, and pecan pie.  The day’s activities had worn us out.

     The KAKE-TV news was broadcasting into the living rooms throughout the Wichita viewing area, filling the Christmas news void.  You know the kind of news on Christmas day: feel good stories, Christmas soup kitchens, and regurgitated stories from throughout the year, packaged as “the best of.” It was not your action-packed newsworthy type of day.

     A segment titled “Hatteberg’s People” was on the air.  Larry Hatteberg, KAKE’s star reporter, routinely interviewed people around Kansas.  He had a knack for connecting the viewer with ordinary people and their circumstances, and one could learn some regional and Kansas history as a side benefit.

    We stared at the ceiling and listened to the TV as if it were a radio broadcast.  Mr. Hatteberg was interviewing people, asking them to reminisce about celebrating Christmas during their childhood.

     All of a sudden, the voice of our deceased Grandma Beck filled the room.

     “When I was a small child, my family was poor.  Our usual Christmas presents were some fruits and nuts that my parents gave us.  We had no Christmas tree, so we decorated a chair and put our little presents underneath it.” 

Tim continued to stare at the ceiling.  “TAKE ME, JESUS!”  he declared.  Evidently, he thought the rapture had begun.

     We looked at each other and then looked at the television.  There was Grandma Beck, smiling at us from the nursing home lounge.  Tim and I were speechless.

     Grandma continued, “One Christmas, Santa brought me a little rag doll, and it was my happiest Christmas ever.  I had a little girl to take care of, and it was so special.  I sat close to the stove in our farm house, and hugged and hugged my doll.”

     It seemed like her ghost had come to visit us in the living room.

     The stories were rebroadcasts of tapes from years past.  Grandma’s nursing home was located only three blocks from the KAKE-TV studios.  Our conclusion was that Mr. Hatteberg had found the nursing home as a convenient place to interview people, at a time when our grandmother had been lucid and smiling.

     I like to remember the Christmas present Grandma Beck gave us that year on Christmas Day . . . years after her time on earth.  It brings a smile to my face, and the tears well up in my eyes.