It has been five days since I’ve written a “Letter.” I’ve done some other writing but nothing that faced the world in which we live. The death of Jo Cox, a Member of Britain’s Parliament, murdered in her district affected me deeply, a tearing of the barely forming Orlando scar off my physic skin.
Her name was vaguely familiar. The man who has been arrested for her murder apparently shouted “Britain first!” repeatedly as he shot and stabbed her. She was campaigning against “Brexit,” the vote for which will happen next week.
When arraigned, John Mair, the alleged killer, gave his name as “Death to traitors, freedom for Britain.”
A man described as gentle by his neighbors, he suffered mental health issues, assuaging them with volunteer work. He also was in some way affiliated with a neo-Nazi group out of America.
Jo Cox’s death affected me because…
Because it was one more example of the politics of hate in which we are all mired, because it happened in Britain where political verbal vitriol has been honed to a fine edge but where rarely are political differences manifested in physical actions. Perhaps over football but not politics.
And that is probably an Anglophile’s rose colored glasses view of British politics but it does seem rarer there that they have such events as Orlando, much rarer.
In the days following Orlando, a California pastor preached that all LGBTQ folks should meet the same end as the Orlando victims. We should all be killed off. It is not the first time in my life I have heard people call for the slaughter of the LGBTQ community but it seemed more painful this time. We have come so far from when I was a boy.
On Thursday, in a conversation with my friends, Medora and Meryl, I told them that it was on how far we have come that I had to choose to focus or my sadness would be unbearable. It had seemed an impossibility that in my lifetime gay individuals could exercise the right to wed. And now we can.
I did not think in my lifetime I could speak openly of my feelings to friends who were not of my own community.
Yet these things have happened. In my little world of Columbia County, New York I have seen the changes over the fifteen years I have been there, the opening of the community and the general acceptance by “locals” to outsiders and to outsiders were “different.”
We think the world is changing and changing for the better and then there is an Orlando, ripping at the sense of safety creeping into the world. And then come the stories of people who remain fearful, even in New York, because a show of same sex affection could mean violence.
Only since Orlando have I come to know that the LGBTQ community is, far and away, the group that is most likely to experience hate crimes.
There seems to be some movement about more control over assault rifles. One small step, one hopes. I had thought there would have been movement on that after the slaughter of the innocents in Newtown. There wasn’t but now there might be.
Young Christina Grimmie, a “The Voice” alum who was shot to death last Friday by a deranged fan who then killed himself, was buried yesterday. She, too, was killed in Orlando.
Disney there has been putting out signs to warn tourists about crocodiles and snakes after a two year old was hauled off and killed by a crocodile last week, an adorable young boy.
In Nigeria, eighteen have been killed by Boko Haram.
Belgians have arrested twelve in “terror raids” and Iraqi forces say they have retaken most of Fallujah.
Where have all the flowers gone?
To graveyards, every one…
I am sad but am choosing, must choose, not to feel hopeless and powerless. It is beautiful outside, another in a day of beautiful days on Martha’s Vineyard. The world is better than it has been, in many ways. And I must remind myself of that.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack, New York 08 23 2016 Generous souls…
August 24, 2016It is later in the evening than I normally write; I did a roundtrip to the city today. There were a couple of meetings and then I turned around and returned to the cottage. It is dark. I have turned on the floodlights so I can see the creek glitter with their light. The trees are silhouetted by the light, green and verdant. Nights like this are ones I love, with the floodlights giving an eerie beauty to what I see in the day.
Earlier today I had a long and good conversation with Sarah, who is my oldest friend. We have known each other since we were three and except for one brief period have been a close part of each other’s lives. She is one of the most loving and caring women I have known in my life and has always been that way.
In 7th grade, when Sister Jeron knocked me on the back of the head with a Gregorian Hymnal, humiliating me in front of our class, Sarah turned up that evening with one of her brothers and we went sledding down the hill by our house. She knew I was hurting and came to help take the hurt away. I remember that night as if it were yesterday.
Since I last wrote not much has changed in the world. Aleppo is still a horror show. Omran, the child in the photo, still haunts my dreams.
There are bombings hither and thither. A Turkish wedding was destroyed by a suicide bomber who may have been no more than fourteen. It was not the only bombing but it seems the most tragic with a child being used as a weapon.
Trump is attempting to moderate his tone and I hope it is too late. Hillary is caught in the crossfire of the Foundation and her emails, which probably will never go away. Even if she wins the Presidency, the Republicans will be chasing those emails and Benghazi into the next century.
The state of our politics this year is deplorable. While discouraged, I remain hopeful that some good will come from all of this. It must.
Out there in the wide world, North Korea has fired a missile from a submarine toward Japan. Provocative as ever, the chubby little dictator is testing the limits of what he can get away with.
Remember the Boko Haram? One of their leaders may have been badly wounded in a Nigerian airstrike. I hope so.
The Iraqis are intent on reclaiming Mosul. More than a million people will be displaced if they do it, according to estimates. More refugees in this horrific war that never ends…
The Brits voted for Brexit and Brexiting are a large number of corporations who are moving their money out of Britain. Not good for Britain who is going to have to do a lot of juggling with this Brexit thing…
It is late. I am distracted.
Long ago and far away, I was friends with the Elsen family. Don Elsen, patriarch of the clan, passed away today. He was 90, lived a good long life. I saw him a year ago. Unable to walk, he managed the world with a motorized wheel chair, mentally sharp as ever.
They were descendants of Germans and when I was with them, they could be screaming at each other and then burst into laughter and hug and hold each other. It was amazing. They were all full of love and Don was one of the most generous souls I have known in this life.
God rest. Keep safe. Be reunited in heaven with your beloved wife, Betty. Your son, Jeffrey, and your brothers who went before you.
May I have such a homecoming someday.
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