Again and Yet Again

We watched every episode of Ken Burn's Vietnam. My husband and I both lived through those years but this series revealed things we did not know and also brought a greater understanding of the soldiers who fought bravely, the men and families who stayed behind and the people and soldiers of both South and North Vietnam. When this war was happening during our time we were not exposed to the depth of the cover-ups or the extent of the anti-war protests in our country and around the world.

Most importantly, for me, it reinforced the feelings that war is damaging to civilians and soldiers on both sides. Mothers lose sons, wives lose husbands, children lose parents, friends lose friends. Some wars in our history have been fought with honor and commitment, others, not so much.

It was painful to listen to former soldiers, anti-war protesters, politicians and deserters who, over time, changed their minds about a war they fought for or against, or the country they abandoned. For many the pain lingers.

My thoughts reflect on those who lead our counties. Do they know history? Have the lessons of the past changed how we communicate with our present day enemies? History has a way of repeating itself. If only the leaders of countries knew their history, perhaps, just perhaps there would be less fighting, pride and self-serving and more communication leading to understanding. We can only hope.

But then history often repeats itself.

A Story from the Sauna

He greeted me cheerily when I entered the sauna after my workout. He was small and of a wiry build. His wife, an attractive blond, sat quietly next to him. He was immediately talkative, telling me that he and his wife came to Evans Plunge every year on their vacation to the Black Hills. After a bit of chit chat, without any prompting on my part, he eagerly shared his story.

I was born in Poland. In 1974, when I was twenty, the Russians were in control of Poland and I wanted to escape the oppression. All that was on TV were stories of Russia and the bad things about America. There was one exception. We watched Bonanza. We loved that show and I wanted to go to America to see the cowboys. My friend, who was nineteen, and I went to a festival in France with a group. We jumped from the train in West Berlin looking for asylum. Since I had a trade as a tool and die maker I could get work with the English army until I could get papers to go to another country. the Poles had worked with the British and there were many of them that had stayed on in West Berlin after the war. That was good for me since I could communicate with them. I only wanted to go to America, but in order to be accepted then I needed three things: 1. to be healthy 2. to have a trade so I could support myself and 3. I had to serve in the American army and go to Vietnam.

I was so eager to go to American that I accepted those conditions, including military service in Vietnam. The war ended in 1975 so I did not have to go in the service, but I had been willing to do my part in order to get to America. At that time we immigrants got no health insurance or welfare. I met my wife in Chicago and when she went to the hospital to have our baby, I paid all the bills from my work. I never asked for any help. Today my son is a successful businessman.

In time I traveled throughout the States, and after working and living in New York and Chicago we settled in Wisconsin. I could not go back to see my family in Poland until 1990, but then I brought my mother and siblings to America.

"I want to write your story", I said to him as I got up to leave the sauna, sweating profusely. I had stayed too long, fascinated by his story and his enthusiasm. "I won't use your name."

"My name is Stanley", he said as I left.

Food for thought: it is because of a TV western that our country has been enriched by a Polish immigrant and his family.

It All Began at the Beginning

The news shouts from the living room. I can hear bits and pieces from the kitchen: Syria, Iraq, Egypt, Ukraine, Russia, Nigeria, Sudan, France, etc., etc. The media bombards us with war,  terrorism, sectarian violence, refugees, missing girls, rescues and attempts at peaceful solutions. It never ends. We hear signs of hope dashed by protests, riots and uprisings.

The question was asked, "Will there ever be peace between the Jews and the Muslims?" One can wonder. It all started ages ago, according to Biblical history, with Abraham and Sarah. Abraham was promised a son who would become the beginning of as many descendants as the stars in the heavens. Abraham was very old. His wife, Sarah was far beyond child-bearing years. Neither of them could believe the promise from God. Sarah gave her servant, Hagar, to Abraham to bear him a child since she was young and could bear children. Hagar had her child, Ishmael, and Sarah became pregnant with Isaac. For whatever reason, jealousy, birth rights, or whatever, Sarah banished Hagar and Ishmael to the desert. As recorded, Isaac was the forefather of the Jews and Ishmael of the Arabs.

Ever since, up to the present day, the descendants of Isaac and Ishmael have been rivals. They do not forget since their memories seem be everlasting. I am not an expert on the Bible and anyone may read and interpret for him/herself but it appears that the hostility began centuries ago and seems unlikely to be abating any time soon, at least not during my lifetime.

So, it all began with Sarah and Abraham. Further back, if we look at jealousy, rivalry, hatred, suspicion and even murder, it all began with Adam, Eve, Cain and Abel.

As I see it (purely personal musings), not much has changed.