Sometimes during one’s life, things happen that you would never expect and the best word to describe my emotion when it happened to me is confused.
I spent an enormous amount of time trying to understand how such a thing could happen to me. A lot of that time was during a five week trip on a Harley Davidson while traveling to Los Angeles and back again. Lying in my small tent at night I tried to imagine my life going forward. I had never really been alone like this before.
It was the saddest period of my life to date and I had no control over it. I had a very hard time trying to form the proper emotion for what I was experiencing. I was never bitter. I tried to understand the courage it took to precipitate the predicament that myself and those closest to me were now having to deal with. It took me a long time to understand how difficult the decision that brought us here probably was.
Who knows how these mind numbing experiences will affect you. I certainly didn’t. I basically left the human race for five weeks because I was “confused”. But then I realized that there were people who needed me and it was time to move forward. I studied mind control and attended classes. I still practice it today. I made new friends but kept in touch with the old ones. I made a point to let people know that I would be there for them and they did the same for me. I took a long time to put myself in a similar role that I was in before. I was careful, but I knew when things were right.
I am hoping that when you are confused and have a hard time understanding what life may have dealt you remember to take the time to sort things out. Don’t give up easily on things which seem right but remember that you are not the only one that may be thinking like you are. Respect other’s feelings and communicate OFTEN. Who knows, with the right communication you may never become “CONFUSED”.
Do you feel sometimes that a basic intuitive feeling may be lacking in today’s society? Are people today passionless in their work ethic and frustrated with their achievements? Perhaps most of us today are mistaking our goal to achieve as the necessary fulfillment to our lives when in fact the pride in doing what we do can be enough of the reward we seek.
The dress and posture of the man above exemplifies a conscious desire to feel proud of what he does and is willing to show to everyone the pride in his work and his habits. He may be the owner of the bakery or he may be his own boss as a window washer but that doesn’t matter to him. He is proud of what he does and probably feels fulfilled in a job well done.
We all know that this photo was taken during a simpler time in a world now obsessed with many more diversions to confuse our minds. But maybe it could be more satisfying if we could be more content in the space we occupy and if the pride with which we show as we travel through it were more like the window washer.
When I was very young I collected View Master reels. The ability to see parts of the world I never knew existed in 3D became an obsession for me. At 35 cents for one and a dollar for a packet of three it took me a long time to collect a library of over a hundred. But of all the places to view, the one that I loved to view over and over again was the one that displayed the beauty and the grandeur of Glacier National Park. I thought that someday I would be able to witness its majesty with my own eyes but as time passed my yearning diminished with life’s responsibilities and more pressing issues.
Many, many years later I went there with my godson. It was as if he knew my yearning and when the time was right he arranged everything. We hiked 50 miles in 6 days, an experience of a lifetime, never to be forgotten. One night we camped on the banks of the Belly River pictured above. Between signs warning of grizzly bears and the majesty of the mountains we talked of lives and loves and what they all mean to each of us.
A haunting, memorable series of days and events that are so unforgettable that I still to this day think of them often, just like when I think of those old View Master reels. I guess when you think about it, sometimes yearning can become reality.
I’m not sure if the grass was greener and the sky was brighter, maybe it just seemed that way, but the summer of 1970 will always remain in my mind as a more peaceful and happier time than the years that followed. My arrival at this assumption is not based on the weather but more so on the company I had for many weekends during those precious days and moments during that year.
It was a time when I was fascinated with photography and with a desire to improve my skills in photographing children I dragged sixteen children during many weekends to places I thought would be interesting and photogenic. I had no idea what to expect. Thinking that they would be reluctant to be with their father or uncle when they could be somewhere else I just assumed this would be difficult.
Contrary to my feeling they found pleasure in being with cousins and friends and helped me to understand the meaning of friends and family. They found enjoyment in simple things and took joy from being with each other. Watching them develop simple games from basically nothing other than nature itself now makes me sad to think that children of today are maturing in a period when these experiences are far less frequent.
Do the children of today need the stimulation that is so prevalent in today’s society? Could they find the joy and happiness that I witnessed that summer without them? How will we ever know for sure? I just remember what it was like then, an easier, simpler time that I was glad to be a part of and happy that my children and their friends were able to show me what that summer was really like.
I wish that I still had the letters my brother Don sent to me. Stationed on an aircraft carrier, he struggled to develop words and sentences of meaning to a brother he hardly knew. Within the large printed style of writing reflected the real spirit of a hidden soul. After his discharge from the Navy Don tried to create a tough guy image and got involved in many a bar room brawl on Friday nights back in the 50’s. My sister Ellie and I would always speculate on what Don would look like when he arrived at the breakfast table on a Saturday morning, many times bruised and beaten. Despite his outward appearance however I recognized the confusion within, a man longing for acceptance but baffled by his warmth and compassion for almost everything around him.
Late one night on his way home from a date in Worcester he collided his Studebaker with a tree and suffered many injuries one of which was a broken leg. He picked fragments of glass from his body during his month long stay at the veteran’s hospital in Jamaica Plain until it reached a small pile on his night table three inches in height. Never complaining, he remained on crutches for over a year while the brass rod in his leg helped to repair the break in his bone. He became so adept at getting around on them that he could run faster with them than most people could without.
Don disliked the winter so much that after marrying Lorraine in 1955 he purchased his first new car and drove to his new future home in California. Seemingly content in his new lifestyle the marriage quickly fell apart when Lorraine left for Las Vegas after just a few years together. It was a difficult time for Don, he drove to Las Vegas many times when Lorraine would call asking for money, Don would bring it to her, tell her he loved her and ask that she come home. She never did and the divorce followed quickly thereafter.
Unlucky at love, Don remained a bachelor for many years. He lived on a boat that he purchased and kept docked at Long Beach. He bought a Harley Davidson and started to frequent the California bar scene. Don was always very inventive and he had wired a mercury float switch from a Maytag washer to his horn and secured it under the seat of his bike. While parked outside the bar on its kickstand the switch was open but if someone tried to mount the bike or move it the switch would close and the horn would sound. Don had to run out of the bar on occasion when this would happen. Don said that he had also wired it so the horn would sound while riding the bike if it should lean narrowly close to falling, a feature that Don said probably saved his life a few times on his way home after having too many drinks.
After marrying Von and settling in Whittier he still remained reluctant to travel back to his roots of New England, preferring the warm climate of California. I think that I traveled to visit him more often than he returned home and during one of those visits that I made I asked a special favor of him. Don always was a great model ship builder, so well known for this that he achieved legend status, many models being shown at exhibits. So I asked if he would build one for me. Working nights in his small workshop behind his home he spent a year and a half building a plank on frame model of the Cutty Sark, one of the most beautiful works of art I have ever seen. I flew out to his home when he informed me that it was finished and we spent a day building the crate to transport it back with me. I still to this day wonder at the patience taken and the love expressed in this gift.
There was a time in my life when I had three brothers. Today I have none. I wish that I still had the letters my brother Don sent to me. I feel alone and long to read them.
Last night I had a dream that will not leave me. When I rolled over to start the day my son Peter was standing at the bedside in his flannel pajamas. Peter always was standing at the bedside when I awoke many years ago. He was longing for acceptance, curious as to what the day would be like and wanting for me to be a part of that day.
Was I understanding of his needs? Was I as good and as loving as he needed me to be? I don’t know. All I know now, as my years have provided me with the wisdom to reflect on this period of my life, is that I want to go back. I want to tell all my children that they are what is most important to me and I want to try to understand them more than I did.
Those moments, those precious moments when Peter would wake us and when Michael would tell me “be careful now” every day that I left for work, or when Ben would come into our bed with that ugly blanket he carried everywhere, are the memories that do not fade but become stronger as you age. Memories that you want to live again because you feel you could be a better parent if you were given another chance.
But deep in my mind, hidden in the abyss of an older subconscious, lies those special images like the picture above. Thankful to be able to remember and bring them to the surface with the assistance of my dreams leaves me not so much wondering as to what may have been but remembering in fact what a glorious time I had and to be so thankful that it was filled with so many very special people.
I can’t imagine what went through my brother’s mind when I called from a pay phone and told him I would be at his home in less than an hour. I wanted to surprise him and I am sure that my goal was achieved. I hadn’t seen my brother Don in over six years.
I don’t really know why when I bought my Harley in 1978 that I decided on the home of my brother in Los Angeles to be my destination. I had remembered my brother as a kind and sensitive friend to me and I guess I needed that.
And he was. He took time off from work to be with me. He took me to interesting places and we talked for long periods of time about many things. I was glad that I got the chance to know him better.
Last month I received the Jewelry Box. A very kind person sent it to me knowing it would contain things of perhaps some meaning to me. There is really no value in the objects contained within, none of the watches are working and I don’t remember seeing many of the pieces there before. But a few things brought memories to mind of a young and carefree man trying his best to get ahead, eager to please, and happy to be with you and others. I remembered seeing one of the watches, his favorite, and how I admired him when he wore it on his wrist. Visions of a strong and happy older brother swirled around my thoughts and brought a sense of satisfaction to me for I knew now how I would remember him.
Lately I find myself thinking more often of life and the end of life. Many friends and relatives close to my age have died or become ill. The value of life and the perception of what it means has become more apparent to me at an older age. The Jewelry Box has left me with the realization that there were too many things left unnoticed about someone that I should have been closer with.We need to become more interested in those that we cherish. We need to ask more questions, strive to learn more about the people we love and make the effort to be with them more often. How many times have you wished that you could ask someone who is no longer with us something that you never found the time to ask before. I would not want the Jewelry Box filled with unanswered questions showing up someday at your door.
President Eisenhower was trying to bring an end to McCarthyism and was also trying to preserve the right to vote for all Americans during the period of time that my brother Greg was contemplating the opening of a business in Lynn that would change my life and the lives of many members of our family.
The year was 1958, the store rent was eight dollars a week and an appliance service call was billed out at three dollars and fifty cents. Dreams that occupied my mind while working there after school for the next two years revolved around the prospect of working with my brother full time and the impractical idea of possibly earning ten thousand dollars a year.
Yesterday was the last day that I walked into that store for another day at work. Over the 55 years that I was employed there I have watched this business complete over 80,000 service calls and sell over 20,000 appliances to many local clients, a rewarding and profitable experience that fulfilled all of the dreams that I had so many years ago.
But the true meaning of such an endeavor lies not in its ability to provide a comfortable lifestyle financially, but bestows to those involved in its fruition the true meaning of a successful life. The daily interaction with thousands of people of different lifestyles and the successful completion of a service desired by them teaches the honesty and integrity needed for the long range plan of a successful business venture.
For me personally these years have given me the opportunity to grow and mature while providing countless hours with family members whom I love dearly, a benefit not afforded to most working people today. Long, difficult days of hard work are reflected upon later as a positive progression of what is needed for the proper completion of tasks well done and as a rewarding experience to have done them with family beside me to share those times.
The Greg Rogers Company lives today with the knowledge that nothing has really changed. The dedication to doing the job right has already become mandatory. Michael, Peter, Christine and Brad are the true personification of the young 28 year old Greg Rogers so many years ago. Striving to make their business better than others by treating each day as if it were the very first day is how it is done today and how it was done 55 years ago.
So here I am. Will I miss it? Of course. Would I have done it differently? Maybe, but what a wonderful experience of life’s lessons. Treat people as you would like to be treated. Be fair and honest. Be truthful, even when you know it’s your fault. But most of all enjoy the moment. This day has passed and will never appear on your calendar again. I have been very, very lucky that those days and the dreams of future passed fill my mind with memories of love and understanding of some very wonderful people.
It was not love at first sight. It should have been. But for two people unable to sort the meaning of an uncomplicated and comfortable encounter between two people that up until that moment meant confusion and apprehension, the meeting only provoked more curiosity than weakness at the knees.
And so because they were both curious about each other they decided to date. After a few interesting dates over dinner they became more than just people who had mutual concerns and interests. They were now at that threshold of trying to determine how important they were to each other.
It was on one of those dates. dinner at Beth’s apartment, that she asked an important question. It was one of those seemingly unimportant questions at the time, but it was to change my life forever. Beth liked to cook and her recipes and cookbooks were scattered among the kitchen shelves so she asked if I would help her build a small book holder to contain them in a more orderly fashion.
The next week Beth arrived at my home with a small hammer ready to learn and help in what was to become the most important project I have ever undertaken. She was curious about everything that had to be done. She was diligent in the proper way to cut, sand, drill and everything that was necessary to complete this small but interesting project. She was happy to be here. She smiled constantly. She lit up my workshop. I fell madly in love with her. I had never met anyone like her.
Since that night many years ago, my love for the most important person in my life has multiplied many times over. Not a day of our life together has she forgotten to mention how much she loves me. Always supportive of everything I do she inspires me to achieve more than I could without her. Sometimes I need to just see her, look at her, tell her how much she means to me and how lucky I was to have a workshop.