Fanny Pack? Remember them? Twenty-five years ago, they were all the rage. Whenever you traveled, it seemed that everyone you saw had these little pouches, belted around the waist. We kept our passports, sun glasses, lip gloss, and lots of miscellaneous stuff we wanted to carry, in the many pockets on our travels. Continue reading
Author: Stan Escott
Here I Stand 1
Some years ago I set out to write a “brief” statement of my faith that I would share with my children. At that time they were adults in their 30’s and who, probably, had a fairly well-formed idea of “religion”, faith and all that “stuff”.
Over the years I have resolved to have conversations with them about faith and what I believe, but the time has never seemed right. Over those years I flirted with that topic, have implied some, have lived out some, but never really gotten into it. Maybe I was a little fearful, wanting to “say it right” but concerned that it might come out incomplete, or incoherent, or sounding like I’m proselytizing! Continue reading
Tree on Fire
My grandparents on my mother’s side, came from German stock, and settled in northern Pennsylvania. They worked to keep some of the old country traditions alive and my mother carried one or two into our family life. The following was pieced together from childhood memories recalled during this Christmas season and some of the stories my sisters shared with me.
I remember, the couch had been moved to another part of living room, and that is where I was told to sit, along with my sisters. Mother and daddy brought in the freshly-cut Christmas tree, already in its stand, and set it in the space cleared in front of the windows that looked out on Lawson Avenue. I was the ‘little guy’. I must have been three or four. I had no recollection of putting up a Christmas tree the previous year, so my excitement came from all the stories that my sisters shared. My eyes grew in size as the tree was set in place, and a box of decorations was placed nearby. A tree in our living room!
“Aren’t we putting lights on?” my older, wiser sister asked. Mother said, “No, not yet” I remember daddy doing something with the tree, putting something on the branches, while mother seemed to be telling him where they should go and to “make sure they are straight”. After a long time, they stepped back, seemed to admire what they had done. Then they stopped and mother went into the kitchen to start supper, while daddy went into his ‘study’.
My other sister, the one who always teased me, protested. She whined about not putting on the colorful paper chains we had created the day before, or any of the green and red popcorn kernels we had strung, or allowing the kids to do anything to decorate the tree. To which daddy had replied, “No, not yet. Have patience, we will get to it tonight”.
I sat in my highchair, dinner seemed to take forever! I kept glancing in the living room at that tree. A tree in our living room! I had never seen anything so pretty. Dinner was over and now the dishes had to be done, my sisters’ job. That is when I started whining – something I was learning from my sisters! Daddy left the kitchen. I don’t think he wanted to hear me crying.
Finally, we all gathered in the living room and told to return to the couch. Something had happened to the tree! On many of the branches there were little white candles. Then mother started to sing. Oh, little town of the Bethlehem… As she was singing, daddy took a kitchen match and started lighting all the little candles, right there on the tree! Then he turned off the lights and we all sang Silent Night. What a beautiful tree on fire!
Then daddy pulled the rocking chair over and sat in front of us, with his Bible. Mother then explained that her parents had come from Germany, and one of the family traditions was putting candles on the tree, lighting them, then reading stories from the Bible and singing carols. And so we did, daddy read the Christmas story from Luke, and when we sang Silent Night, I couldn’t help but notice that mother was crying…something I could not understand until so much later. Daddy then said a prayer.
After that things got really exciting! We all blew out the candles. Daddy and my older sister began to put on stings of lights and we all helped to put on strings of craft-paper chains all around the tree, and the strings of popcorn. My sisters started placing foil icicles carefully on the tree, while I just took handfuls and threw them at the tree. They didn’t like that, but I just giggled. What fun!
Then, long past my bedtime, just as I was falling asleep on the couch, to my surprise, hot chocolate and cookies! I don’t remember doing lighted candles in later years, but the hot chocolate and cookies was an annual family tradition.
Frohe Weihnachten – Feliz Navidad – Merry Christmas
Four Score and Seven Years Ago
One Hundred Fifty-nine years ago, on this date, November 19, in 1863, President Abraham Lincoln stood on the bloodied ground of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and delivered a brief, but memorable address of national unity. Many, reading this essay, have vivid memories of having to memorize the speech, maybe when you were in the eighth grade. For me, memorization was never fun!
While the address was given 159 years ago, there are elements of Lincoln’s words that are relevant today. Throughout the Bible there are multiple references to the clash between the forces of good and evil; Adam and Eve in The Garden, David and Goliath, Jesus in the wilderness, etc. I venture to say that where good exists, evil will be lurking around the corner to cast truth in the shade of darkness. Continue reading
A Layman’s Letter to Churches – Alone But Never Alone
Joni Erickson Tada wrote and performed a wonderful song, Alone But Not Alone, that made its way to the top of the Christian music charts and into a movie by that same name. When I listen to the words and the music of that song I cannot help but be reminded how true it is.
At a most crucial time in the life of Jesus, as a man walking the earth, facing eminent crucifixion, He asked God the Father to give all believers the Holy Spirit, as a Friend and Guide. And so, in reality, we may feel we are alone, but if our faith is strong, there’s no question that our Helper, the Holy Spirit, is there with us. As close as a brother or sister, sharing wisdom and strength. Continue reading
In Their Shoes, Imagined
He’s dead! I thought He would live forever. He was to be our Savior, our new King who would lead us to freedom. Just this week we saw Him bring Lazarus back to life…why could He not save himself? I don’t know what to do! I don’t know where to go! I don’t know what to believe. He made so many promises, and now He is gone!
I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t watch. He was my friend, my Lord and now He is gone! I stayed with my brother, Peter. He was so upset. He thinks he was the reason that our Jesus was crucified. He and James, and I think Philip, are planning to go back to Capernaum. I should go with them, too. Staying here is not safe. Continue reading
Mun-Hee
His name, we learned, was Mun-Hee, but we called him “Money”. He was 13 or 14, and his mother did laundry, by hand, along the Pukan River, for the guys in my unit, on the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) in Korea. He was a happy goffer, ran errands, did small jobs and was generally helpful, and, in turn, we were generous.
What we didn’t know, was that he was a “slicky-slicky-boy”, part of a group of thieves, the scourge of companies throughout our Division, who would enter our tents, in the middle of the night, silent as a mouse, looking for anything of value; clothing, weapons, military exchange coupons, etc. The story was that many soldiers had their foot-lockers picked clean by these thieves, while the guys slept on. Continue reading
A Layman’s Letter to Churches — Being Christian Ain’t Easy
There is a story of a young Salvation Army girl in Scotland who approached a stranger on the street and asked if he were a Christian. He turned an angry and stern face toward her, and replied, “Young lady, I am a professor of theology! Of course, I’m a Christian!” To which she quietly responded, while walking away, “What a face for a Christian!”
As we read the book of Acts, and in other scripture passages, we have a general record of the earliest Christian communities. Jesus’ teachings and his popularity upset the Jewish hierarchy, which led to angry encounters on the streets of Jerusalem, and that upset the Romans. Continue reading
Touched by Grace
In the course of our lives we will be touched by the passing of a friend or loved one. We attend funerals and memorial services of those we love and respect, and are reminded of their quality, there importance in our lives and in the lives of the family. We struggled to find the right words to say and maybe, because of our own experience, we know that the most important thing is your presence and support. Words are not crucial.
Over the past six weeks, I attended, participated in, or otherwise supported the memorial services for three members of my family and one friend and colleague. Each was a Celebration of Life and at each we heard story after story of the quality of that person, how they impacted so many lives. With each story, the thought may have occurred to some, I may not have known them as much as I such have. Our loss, adding to our grief. Continue reading
And I Was There
I had just turned 19, when my division, the 25th infantry division, left Korea and settled in the luxurious confines of Scofield Barracks on the Island of Oahu, Hawaii. It was quite a change from life on the DMZ in Korea, to a comfortable cot in Paradise! But somebody had to do it, and so there we were. What an adjustment!
We had been in our new digs probably only about two months or so when my buddy, Bruce and I, another GI pooled our resources and bought 1947 four-door Chevy. It was perfect, except it had no reverse gear nor first gear, it did have a windshield but, as I recall, no other windows. It was perfect, for Hawaii when you’re 19. Continue reading
Writing – Self-Taught?
Writing comes from writing. Have you heard that, before? At the core of decent writing is experience. Here’s another euphemism: “To write well, you must listen well.” By that I mean, listen to your heart and your mind, and do not let thoughts escape into Netherland – capture them while they are fresh. They are bits of inspiration to build upon.
Before I go any further, I must make one thing clear – Writing has very little to do with age! True, your experience in life can inform your writing, but you are never too old to string words together, to convey thoughts, ideas and love. So, I say it again: You are never too old! Continue reading
Blink of an Eye
I was a freshman in college when I first “got the bug.” I was committed to being a different person than I was in high school, so when I saw an announcement for play try-outs, I stepped forward. To my surprise and both amazement and apprehension, I landed a speaking role in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Being part of the drama group was exciting, and I learned so much more than just my lines in the play. From the talented group of upperclassmen, I learned ballet moves, about dramatic use of my body, and about how diction does more than communicate words. I got the bug.
Another Shakespeare play where I nailed one of the leads, and still another production written by one of the seniors. And my addiction to the stage grew, as did a bit of my ego. Not only that, but people knew me on campus! That invisible me from high school was gone!
When I finished college, I still had the bug, But I had to earn a living and support my family, and so I carried on. First as a teacher, then as a counselor, then as a professor of psychology and then, shockingly, a college and university administrator. But the bug was always there, in the back of my mind.
Civic theaters were everywhere, first in Muncie, then in Bloomington. Later, in Cincinnati. I had leads or roles, or was an extra in seven different productions including A Christmas Carol, Our Town, and an obscure production of the Seven Sins of Sarah. The critics said I was great as Bo Decker in the production of Bus Stop, and my dreams were elevated to a different stage, on the Great White Way.
But then, the blink of an eye. I auditioned for Hello Dolly! and, of course, landed one of the principle male leads. My ego was at capacity! Rehearsals were a breeze. The dress rehearsal went like clockwork. Some of my fellow actors stumbled, forgot their lines, but not yours truly. What is that saying about pride? Oh, yeah, now I remember, “Pride comes before the fall.” Should have taken that to heart.
Opening night. Packed house. My wife, my father and mother and a few friends were in the audience. Curtain up! Play begins. I am in the wings ready for my cue. There it is! My feet rush out carrying me onto center stage, my face, my body and my arms are all doing their part. My mouth is open as if I am speaking loudly, but…no words! None, not even an anguished screech! My mouth is empty. My brain is empty, except for the image of my family sitting out there. I could not come up with my lines.
Got the picture. Me, the Master Thespian, standing center stage, frozen in the image of one making a dramatic proclamation…and no sound. Not from me, nor the audience, nor from the prompter. Finally, in a whispered voice, the actor next to me fed me my lines until I became, once again, animated, and Hello Dolly continued.
A career changing moment, a blink of an eye. No Broadway, no silver screen, just the same old me. Oh, sure, we had three more productions of the play and I was…shall we say, adequate, but the ghost of opening night was always there. The blink of an eye and everything changed, yet nothing changed.
Here’s the crazy part, I still have that bug, but now I have that blink. Sadly, the blink has veto power. Break a leg? That would have been better than the blink.
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