December 7th and the March of History

 

USS Decatur renders honors to the USS Arizona

December 7th, 2023

"We in the present are the keepers and custodians of the past.

It is our responsibility to convey those memories into the future."

--Ralph Couey

Copyright © 2023

by Ralph F. Couey

December 7th, 1941, a day which President Roosevelt called "a day which will live in infamy" is one of those dates on a calendar which are deeply meaningful.  For most of the current generations, September 11th, 2001 is the point that divided "before" from "after" in their lives.  Both dates mark a moment when the world changed, and as a result, lives changed as well.

William Gibson once wrote, "Time moves in one direction, memory in another."  For people who were alive and aware when a particular event took place, the feelings generated at that time keep remembrances fresh.  The emotions, whether ecstatic or devastating, remain fixed in the mind and the heart.  For new generations,  those events are history, remembered in a colder, passionless manner.  The old saw, "You had to be there" applies.  If a person did not experience such an event, they will not feel the same impact.  And in that transition, the impact and meaning of those life-changing moments is lost.

Each generation lives within the bubble that envelops the span of their lives.  When great events happen, we experience those moments in a personal way, how it affected us, our family and friends, even the smaller world immediately around us.  As I alluded to in my quote above, it is our responsibility to pass those experiences to the next generations.  It is not only important that they know that events like 9/11 and December 7th happened, but how it felt to us.  It is those feelings that help to convey the import the meaning of those events into the future, ensuring they will never be forgotten.

Going Home. Again.

 

My new office

Copyright ©2023

by Ralph F. Couey

Photo and written content

"Life is about not knowing, having to change,

taking the moment and making the best of it

without knowing what's going to happen next."

--Gilda Radner

Change can happen slowly, with careful planning.  Or it can happen quickly, coming upon you like an approaching train.  My change in jobs this month was one of the latter.  I left the Hawai'i Emergency Management Agency and took a position with the USS Missouri Memorial Association as a tour guide aboard that venerable battleship.  I served aboard her for the last two years of my Navy career.  Like any sailor, I developed a deep affection for that hunk of steel as she took us across thousands of miles of ocean and into some interesting places.  I was still relatively young and as I look back, probably at the peak of my abilities.  However, my growing family responsibilities had begun to gnaw at me, guilt over my frequent and long absences.  I chose them over the Navy, and that's why I left.  I've never regretted doing that.  I served ten years, giving them the best I had.  But that time had ended.  

When we went back to Hawai'i to visit Cheryl's family, I always took a day to visit the ship.  Every time I went aboard, I felt that thrill of returning to what had been a special place.

Why did I leave my job?  Good question.  The answer is far from simple, or perhaps even comprehensible.  I was happy at my last job, working for the public and engaged in work that was important and necessary.  I really liked the folks I worked with in the State Warning Point.  But for some time, there had been a growing sense of disquiet within me.  I couldn't quite put my finger on it, although there were plenty of contributing factors which I won't go into here.  

Celebrating Veterans Day

 

Copyright © 2023

by Ralph F. Couey

Our autumn sojourn to Virginia included, naturally, a host of activities with our grandkids as we were looped into their very busy schedules.  2 concerts, 4 football games, 2 soccer matches, a visit to an art class, way too many trips to Sweet Frog, and coming to grips with the reality that the oldest one is not only driving, but off the college after this school year with the others to follow all too soon.

Beyond the fun of watching them is just the simple joy of being around them.  They grow so fast, and we are aging faster, it seems, so these moments are precious to us and to them.  These are memories that we hold onto with all we have, adding to the already special ones already stored away.

The youngest, 9-year-old Sophie (although she endlessly insisted she was already 10) took us to an event at her school for Veterans Day.  My son and I, both proud vets, attended.  When we arrived, we were directed to the library where we gathered with a roomful of other veterans and active duty.  I circulated around a bit, meeting folks who had served in Vietnam, Korea, Panama, and all the Gulf wars.  The ones still serving were present, wearing the uniform with pride. 

After a few minutes, we were all organized by service branch and lined up.  We were then marched into the gym, where each veteran was announced by name and rank.  The students loudly and enthusiastically cheered each one of us.  I have to tell you, it made my skin tingle.  We all stood and recited the Pledge of Allegiance (yes, they still do that here) and sang the National Anthem.  After we sat down, there were some short speeches by both students and staff and the guest of honor, a Captain from the National Health Service.  A video presentation of those who were no longer alive was given, and to see those young faces facing the exciting challenge of service made me sadly nostalgic.  But the reception by everyone was not forced or pro forma.  Everyone was genuinely happy to be there, and there was a warm, shared joy among everyone who was there.

One More Autumnal Blessing

 

Copyright 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

Fall has always been my favorite season, for a number of reasons.  Partially because I'm kind of ambivalent about summer with it's heat and humidity.  Fall brings cooler and drier air which is a relief.  The sky changes from hazy white to a sparkling vivid blue.

But the best thing is what happens to the trees.  Starting in early fall, the verdant green begins to morph into glorious golds and reds.  Seen from afar, hills are covered with those vivid colors even more beautiful against the sky.

To walk through a forest thus transformed is to leave the mundane and be embraced by a world where the artistry of nature is not only seen, but felt.  The cool, dry air is filled by the smell of leaves already fallen, upraised by feet shuffling along.  The leaves lift for a moment, then return back to their quiet rest. Wildlife is still active, birds singing while they make their preparations for their flights south for the winter.  Deer are moving through the forest and occasionally seen sprinting away from these noisy humans. 

In Hawai'i,  it's green all year round, and someone like me who grew up amid the cycling of seasons, they are missed.  To be back in a place where autumn paints her brilliant canvas, to walk through the forest during this time has brought a quiet thrill to my soul.

I have hiked some local trails, especially in the afternoons.  That's when the sun, lower in the sky sends butter-colored light through the trees, illuminating the changed leaves into colors that seem iridescent.  I feel I could stop and sit on a stump for hours and simply absorb the beauty.  Fall is an experience of the soul, refreshing, replenishing, restoring peace and tranquility.

For me, fall is also a reminder.  Over just a couple of weeks, the colors fade into winter's drab and somber cloak.  The sounds of birdsong fade as well, and the forest lies silent.  Time is passing, things are changing and nothing can stop that relentless progression.  I must remember to embrace the brilliance and beauty of the Now before it is irretrievably lost forever.

Tomorrow is promised to no one.  We plan to come back next fall, but the year between now and then is fraught with uncertainty.

But I am thankful that I had one more autumn.

What I Did This Summer

 

Santorini

Copyright © 2023

by Ralph F. Couey

Don't worry - I won't recount the whole trip.  There are few things more boring than someone else's vacation.  But there were some notable events that I will offer in the spirit of education and preparation.

The first part of the summer was spent trying to secure funding for our renovation.  Then, in July, we flew to Athens to begin an 8-day Mediterranean cruise, where we joined up with our son's family.  Upon arrival in Athens, we found we were sans luggage.  This on-going battle with Lufthansa was partially resolved early this morning after I discovered a missed call that had come in about 1 a.m.  The voicemail message reported that one of our bags had been "found" in Frankfurt, Germany (apparently never made it to Athens).  There are 12 time zones between here and there, so later tonight I will call them back.

Since we had no clothes, instead of seeing the sights of Athens, we spent several hours buying clothes and toiletries.  Never have I missed more the convenience of a WalMart.  We did visit the Acropolis, climbing that steep hill in 102 degree heat.  Yes, this was the hottest summer in Europe on record.  We had dressed in warm clothes for the flight, so that whole event was pretty uncomfortable.  That heat followed us to each port, the coolest day we had was in Barcelona where the temps plunged to an icy 95 degrees.

From there we sailed to the island of Santorini (where it was 103 degrees), then after a day at sea, visited Kotor in Montenegro, Corfu Greece, Messina, Sicily, one more day at sea, then ending the cruise at Barcelona.  While the family went to visit the sights, I was sprawled in bed at the hotel, a victim of Flu A, apparently contracted on board.  But I considered myself lucky after we were told that there were several cases of COVID running around as well.  Throughout the entire cruise, there was smoke in the air, a result of the many wildfires burning in the Greek islands.  

Because of the schedule, our time in each place was short, which didn't leave much time to see or do things.  Still, it was interesting to see.  I've been all over the Pacific and Indian Oceans, so this was really my first time to see Europe in detail.  I encourage others to do this, but at a cooler time of year.  The day we were in Santorini, 28 guests were sent to urgent care aboard ship, mostly heat exhaustion and 2 cases of actual heat stroke. 

(A quick suggestion for you, before you check your bags, take pictures of your luggage, front, top, and side, and a picture of the luggage tag after its been attached to the bag.  If you like, either store those pics on your phone, or send them to your email.  If your bags come up missing, these will be invaluable in your quest to get them back.)

A Prayer for Just Today

 

Copyright © 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

Father,

Today, make me an instrument of your peace.

In Jesus' name,

A Prayer

Copyright ©2023

By Ralph F. Couey

Heavenly Father,

We live in a world fractured by hate and intolerance, where anger has become the default response.  In this world, a world of our own making, we have allowed such visceral feelings to not only stand between each other, but also between our hearts and Yours.

In those moments when we are tempted down the dark path of anger, frustration, insult, and outrage, help us to remember that we are commanded to love without exception; that it is through the expression and acts of that love for each other that we can be recognized as disciples of Your Son.

We are neither empowered nor authorized to judge and condemn others in Your name, but to be always mindful our own transgressions and shortcomings.  We have been forgiven by you, so must we also forgive all who have wronged us. As Your Son lived in humility, so also must we.

Guide us to not be "followers of the world," but rather leaders, examples, and inspirations who lead with love, live in love, and to be love.  For that is the true path of peace.

                                                                        In your Son's Most Holy Name,

                                                                                            Amen.

Disaster in Paradise

Before

After

Copyright © 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

Written Content Only 

The following public sources were used in this post:

https://www.latimes.com/projects/maps-maui-fire-destroyed-lahaina-satellite/

https://www.hawaiinewsnow.com/2023/08/19/timeline-look-days-events-that-led-up-devastating-lahaina-wildfire/

https://abcnews.go.com/US/timeline-deadly-wildfires-maui-day-day/story?id=102253075

https://apnews.com/article/hawaii-fires-timeline-maui-lahaina-road-block-c8522222f6de587bd14b2da0020c40e9

https://www.staradvertiser.com/2023/08/20/hawaii-news/reports-offer-a-window-into-terrifying-events-of-maui-fire/

The catastrophe that overtook Maui, particularly the old port town of Lahaina has been on everybody's news feeds.  The images and video of what happened during those seven deadly days has shocked and horrified everyone.  The speed at which the fires overtook the area are still incomprehensible.  Today, August 26th, 115 people have been confirmed as having died.  But despite over 40 teams of searchers, over 388 people still remain unaccounted for.

The genesis of this terrible occurrence lay in a combination of meteorological conditions.  Hurricane Dora crossed the Pacific from its birthplace off the southern coast of Mexico but NOAA and the National Hurricane Center forecasted the track would pass well south of the Hawai'ian Islands.  This is hurricane season for the Central Pacific and such things are to be expected.  The initial disappointment was that the system was too far away to send some desperately needed rainfall to the state.

Hawai'i is in drought.  No surprise there, as we are manifestly not alone.  As a result, during the summer dry season, wildfires are a frequent occurrence around here.  The county FD's spend as much or more time suppressing fires in brush country as they do dousing structure blazes in towns.  Much of the grasslands in the state now largely consist of non-native invasive grasses.  They have overgrown many areas, and yes, they can be mowed, but this is the tropics and even during drought, plants grow rapidly and wildly.  Adding to that are the persistent trade winds blowing out of the northeast at double-digit speeds.  Fires can be fanned by those winds and spread rapidly.  The FD's are vastly experienced, and justifiably proud, at putting these blazes down, but one has to feel sympathy for them hauling heavy hose lines, tools, and other accoutrements up steep terrain while wearing protective gear under the brutal summer sun.  

But this situation was different.  As Dora passed to the south, two huge high pressure systems were churning away in the Gulf of Alaska.  In the atmosphere, air always moves from high pressure to low pressure, and the relative proximity of these systems created what is called "a steep pressure gradient" over Hawai'i.  If you've ever looked at a real weather map, you can see the lines of pressure, called isobars.  In the situation in Hawai'i, those lines were very close together.  Anytime you see that, you know that the winds will be howling.  

Birthday Wishes

 Happy Birthday Nikki!  Hope you have a wonderful time!

Love,

Dad and Mom

The Not-So-Distant Sound of Drums

 

Copyright © 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

Almost 90 years ago, the United States was beginning to crawl out of the depths of the Great Depression.  The recovery had begun as early as 1933, but the economy suffered another severe downturn in 1937-38, but by mid-1938, growth became rapid.  It would take World War II to complete the recovery.  The grinding misery of that decade was the worst economic crisis of this country's history.  That it coincided with the onset of the Dust Bowl, and the accompanying collapse of the farm economy in the prairie and plains states served to deepen the crisis.  

Internationally, while the United States wallowed in misery, two nations, Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan embarked on mutual paths towards global dominance.  It seems, in retrospect, unfair that just at the point when Americans could finally draw a breath, yet another crisis loomed.  Politically, the nation was deeply divided.  The experience of the first World War left a sour tasted in the mouths of many.  We had been dragged into a stalemated war through alliances with European governments.  Many Americans were fed up with taking part in the squabbles of old countries.  The word "isolationist" was coined to describe this frustration.  If, they felt, America could ignore the rest of the world, then we would no longer have to send young men to fight in wars that had little to do with us.  This division made its way to Washington, where the Senate and House fought endless rhetorical battles either for or against arming our friends, and strengthening the forces that would defend us.  In 1935, there were only 119,000 soldiers in the Army.  That is less than the number of the Blue and Grey who faced each other at Gettysburg.  By 1938, however, the threat from Germany and Japan was clear, and looming was the prospect of fighting two major wars simultaneously.  Even after those numbers boomed to over 8 million by 1942, there was still a strong feeling of vulnerability in those early months of the War.  

In the years since, the world has endured its times of crises.  War, in scattered places across the globe, has been pretty much continuous.  But the big, world-circling conflict has not occurred.  There were moments when things were close, the Berlin Crisis of 1961, the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, the Yom Kippur War in 1973, and two computer glitches, one by the U.S., and one by the Soviets in 1979 and 1983.  But the very fragile humans who were involved managed to not push the proverbial button.

A little over a year ago, Vladimir Putin sent Russian combat forces into Ukraine.  Putin's claim of the "de-Nazification" of Ukraine was and remains laughable.  The world was initially horrified, then surprised that the cream of Russian soldiery did not run roughshod over their opponents.  It's fair to say that as the situation stands today, Ukraine has not only successfully protected most of its territory, but also fought the mighty Russian army to a standstill.  Now Putin has other problems.  Many men and women of military age have fled the country.  Large numbers of Russian soldiers have either defected or surrendered.  The international community has not looked with approval on Putin's aggressive actions, and the mood among the Russian citizenry is not at all enthusiastic.  

Checking In...

© 2023 Los Angeles Times

Copyright © 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

written content only

 A week ago I watched my team, the Chiefs, edge the Philadelphia Eagles in Super Bowl LVII. Yes, it was a moment to savor. After all the negative comments about how the Chiefs would not be as good this year, the game was more vindication than victory. Patrick Mahomes won two MVP awards, and the unofficial MVA (Most Valuable Ankle). His performance in the second half after the agony he was in just before halftime defies description. He triumphed over the pain, giving his all. I don't think we'll see another gutty performance matching that one for awhile.

In the 7 days since, I have enjoyed the celebrations, particularly the parade through the familiar streets of Kansas City. The life of the party was, of course, Travis Kelce. This larger-than-life personality has endeared himself to the fans, and not surprisingly, has earned him an invite to host Saturday Night Life in two weeks.

Of course, I've been happy over the win, and looking forward to what this team can accomplish next.

On other fronts, it's not been so much fun. My Mustang's repair parts came in, and is in the shop beginning that work. But the damage will take awhile to fix. They expect mid-March as to when I can expect to get it back. Then, our other vehicle, a Hyundai Santa Fe, began to have problems. It was sluggish and making noises. I took it into Goodyear, and was told that there was only two quarts of oil in the engine. It has never leaked or blown smoke. But we took it to a discount oil change shop, and the only thing that makes sense is that they didn't replace the oil. Of course, there's no way to prove it, so we took it back to Hyundai. The repairs are extensive and will run well into five figures. We decided to get it fixed, because buying a new one means shouldering a large debt for probably seven years. That would mean we would both have to keep working. The good news is that the parts are in and we should get our SUV back by mid-week.

Our insurance company provided us with a rental, but because of the time it took for the Mustang's parts to arrive, most of the allotted time had expired. So we had to take over those payments until we can get one of our cars back. Fortunately, Cheryl's sister has graciously loaned us her minivan to help us out.

I get to preach at our congregation in Kaneohe on the other side of the island tomorrow. I enjoy doing this, because it forces me to be much more diligent in my time with scripture and contemplation. It has been a time of quiet joy during my preparation. We have a funeral Wednesday morning for one of Cheryl's aunties. They asked me to sing two songs, one of which, the Casting Crowns brilliant "Scars in Heaven" a wonderful, comforting song for those who have experienced loss. I have also been asked to lead the singing of "Aloha O'e," the heartfelt ballad penned by Queen Lili'uokalani, the last Hawaiian monarch in 1878. Some of the lyrics are in the Hawaii'an language, which I hope I can pronounce correctly. I work a midnight shift the night before, so it'll be a long day. But I am happy and honored to be able to do it for them.

We are now in the rainy season here, and it has come with a vengeance. This week we experienced a Kona Low storm which has dumped feet of rain on the Big Island, Maui and Kaua'i. Flooding has been a terrible thing for people to endure, and there was one death, a firefighter who was swept into a storm drain while trying to effect a rescue. And just as soon as this one leaves, another one will arrive. Rain was falling in some places up to 5 inches per hour, which is like standing under a fire hose. This kind of thing is a challenge and a test for those of us in Emergency Management, and so fare, we've met the challenge.

Friday afternoon, our phones began lighting up. People were reporting a loud boom, followed by a few seconds of shaking. We made some phone calls ourselves. It wasn't an earthquake (no faults under Oahu), and the military had no exercises or aircraft up busting mach. There was no reports of large landslides, so we were all left with a mystery. I recalled the incident over Chelyabinsk in Russia in 2013 when a 60-foot rock boomed into the atmosphere at 70,000 miles per hour. The 10,000 ton meteor exploded at just under 100,000 feet altitude. The flash was bright enough to temporary blind some people. The shock wave, arriving a bit later, broke windows all over the city, knocked down walls, collapsed roofs, and injured almost 1,500 people. I dug into the witness accounts and saw some clear parallels with what happened here. That same day, another object soared in and exploded over Texas, an event detected on the Weather Service's radar. These objects are called Bolides, meteors that explode in the atmosphere. I sent a text to the local weather office asking if they had seen anything. They said no, but as the mystery remains unsolved, my money's on the space rock.

So, life, with all its twists and turns, ups and downs, goes on. Like a hike, sometimes its a steep climb, sometimes its level, sometimes it goes downhill. But it's always the journey and it must be taken in that context. If nothing else, it keeps us from going crazy.

That Incredible, Incomprehensible Thing in my Head

 

"The human brain has 100 billion neurons, each neuron

connected to ten thousand other neurons.  Sitting on your shoulders

is the most complicated object in the known universe."

--Michio Kaku

"Everything we do, every thought we've ever had

is produced by the human brain.  But exactly how it operates

remains one of the biggest unsolved mysteries."

--Neil deGrasse Tyson

Copyright © 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

We plow through each day, tackling problems, creating solutions, remembering, and predicting.  We calculate numbers, the intentions of others, all happening in that incredibly complex thing inside our head.

The human body, with all the things it has to do, is a wonder of engineering, and it's easy to take it for granted.  We don't have to think about making our heart beat, or breathing, it does it by itself.  But of all the parts of us, I would say that our brain is the one thing we most often take for granted.

Last week, at the behest of my doctor, I submitted myself for an MRI of my brain.  Magnetic Resonance Imaging is one of those miraculous devices that allow doctors to peer inside the human body without doing what used to be called "exploratory surgery."  The device uses strong magnetic fields and radio waves to generate images of human organs.  According to Wikipedia, the response of hydrogen nuclei in human tissues are separated from other nuclei by the magnetic field resonating at the hydrogen frequency.  To make a long story short, that resonance allows images to be captured, one slice at a time.  This gives the doctor the ability to closely examine the organ from the inside out.  This has enabled the early diagnoses of a wide range of dangerous conditions, thus saving countless lives.

I've had a few of these before, so I knew what to expect.  After changing into a gown and carefully ridding myself of anything metal, I was taken into the room and laid on the bed.  Over the years, these beds have become much more comfortable, avoiding the annoyance of back muscle cramps.  After a period of instruction and insertion of earplugs, I was slid into the device.  

I've been claustrophobic in the past, but I was given a kind of mirror that allowed me to look out into open space, and not at the curved shell inches above my nose.  Plus, having lost a lot of weight means I don't fill the tube like I used to.  There was a nice cool breeze flowing through the tube which helped a lot.  In fact, I was so comfortable, I fell asleep, even with the TONK TONK TONK going on around my head.

The Routine -- And Breaking It Up

 

In happier days...

Copyright © 2023

by Ralph F. Couey

There are roads one can drive that create a journey that is seemingly endless.  US 180 through West Texas, US 54 across the Western two-thirds of Kansas, US 50 across the Nevada desert.  The towns passed look curiously alike, almost like Bill Murray's repetitious Groundhog Day.  Life, for me has fallen into the same kind of repeating journey.  The days don't have enough difference to stand out in any way, and I find that the weeks are passing rapidly, kind of like those white-painted road posts so common in the west.

I guess my week actually starts on Tuesday, one of my two regular days off.  That's laundry day, so I'm engaged in that for most of the day.  I'm the cook that evening, so when I finish the clothes, I start putting dinner together.  Tuesday evening is one of the few times that Cheryl and I are home together, hours we have come to cherish more and more.  Wednesday morning is Ground Golf (huge in Japan, by the way) which takes up most of the morning.  My work week starts that night when I go in late for a midnight shift (technically Thursday) which means that half of my day off I have to spend in bed collecting Z's for a long night.  When I get home Thursday morning, I have a couple of hours, then its back to bed so I can have a few hours with Cheryl before I leave for work.  

I get off Friday morning and don't have to go back in until Saturday afternoon, so it's kind of a day off, except I'm really tired by then.  Now if I can stay awake long enough, those two mornings are great for doing my walking in Waikiki.  I'm off to bed early and then up again Saturday morning.  We have some time together for shopping and errands before I leave early afternoon for my evening shifts Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.  Sunday is church and a quick nap before going in.  Monday passes, and it all starts over again.  If I have enough time, I stop at my overlook on Diamond Head Road, gaze at the ocean, and feed my birds for a few minutes.

This is my life, for what its worth.  The midnight shifts are a trial at my age, and they represent a mountain that has to be climbed.  Not a lot of fun.  Jumping shifts like this really makes my sleep patterns tough, but I have a mortgage and a Mustang, and "I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go..."

One thing about a routine though.  It's like getting on a train and letting it carry you along.  But it does make the calendar fly by with distressing speed.  The calendar compresses and I have conversations like, "Wasn't July just two weeks ago?"