The Check is in the Mail

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

My friend, Greg, is one of the best at remembering and telling jokes. Here’s one he told the other night while some of us were sitting around a campfire. You’ll have to “bear” with his sense of humor…

A Polack and a Czechoslovakian decide to go hunting. After some time of walking through the woods, they encounter two very hungry bears, a male and a female. The two men were no match for the bears and the bears swallowed them whole.

When the hunters didn’t return the next day, a search party was sent to find them. The party came upon the two bears sitting in the woods, full and content. They figured their friends were eaten by these bears. So, they shot the bears and cut the female open first. Much to their surprise, the Polack was still alive when they cut the her open.

“Oh, thank God you’ve come! I nearly suffocated in there!”

The other men responded, “Where is your partner?”

The Polack said, “Oh, the Czech is in the male.”

Begging the Question

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(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

The famous German poet, Rilke, said that death is one of our best friends, since he teaches us how to live. (I stole that from a girl that I “almost” know.)

But what is death?

The Christian influence in my life tells me it is the passage to a life eternal, a state of bliss, a place where there is no pain, no tears, no suffering. It is a place of reward and blessing, a place of forgetfulness of the world’s tragedies. It is a place only for “the faithful.”

The mystic in me says it is merely a transition to the next phase of whatever this is that “I am.” It is nothing to fear, the awakening into something, possibly, a bit better than what I experience in whatever it is that I currently “am.” It is a continuation, not a destination.

The computer programmer in me, logically, informs me that it is a “division by zero,” an “abend,” a “fatal error.” Does not compute. Does not compute.

The human in me shouts that it is that which questions, “How can ‘civilized’ human beings unleash an explosive powerful enough to wipe out nearly the entire population of Hiroshima in a split second?” It is the sister question, “How can they do it again on Nagasaki just three days later??” How? How? How?

The alcohol in me tells me… nothing.

What is death? Doesn’t this question beg the question, “What is life?”

The Bible, in the book/epistle of James describes life as a “vapor,” which appears only for a “little while,” then is gone.

Translation: “It is the smoke of your cigarette, which disappears into the night air,” possibly leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

What is that “little while?” What IS it really?

It is color, peace, love, affection, sincerity, feeling, empathy, beauty, sensitivity, caressing, holding, protecting, enjoying, forgiving, tolerating, teaching, helping, encouraging, inspiring, congratulating, creating, sharing, embracing, comforting, light, truth, mercy, discussion, reason, inclusiveness, oneness, acceptance, flavor, enhancement, addition, supplementation, assistance, forbearance, construction, orchestration, blending, hand holding, bowing, respect, pouring forth, spreading out, lifting up, enveloping, making whole.

It is persistently asking, “What positive elements can I add to the above list?”

Life IS up to ME.

No, this does not fully answer the question begged. But, it’s a start.

The Good Ol’ Days

(Originally posted on the website Heron Flight)

Here’s an interesting news story from 1911 which involves the little New Jersey town, Washington, where I grew up (much later than 1911).

Chester, NJ Auto Wreck and Fire, May 1911

MAN AND GIRL DIED UNDER BLAZING AUTO

Burned Beyond Recognition, but Identified as Ellsworth D. Middlekauff and Elsie Walpole.

VISITED MANY ROAD HOUSES

Middlekauff, a Wealthy Resident of Plainfield, Introduced the Girl at One Place as His Daughter.

CHESTER, N. J., May 17.—The bodies of a man and a girl who were burned to death beneath the wreck of their overturned auto here last night were indentified to-day as Ellsworth D. Middlekauff, a wealthy resident of Plainfield, and Miss Elsie Walpole, daughter of Lynus Walpole of Scotch Plains. The body of the girl which was burned almost beyond recognition was identified by a felon on the first finger of her right hand, the unburned remnant of a velvetine dress, and a silver necklace set with diamonds.

It was learned from her father that Miss Walpole had left her home on Saturday night saying she was going to visit friends in Brooklyn, and reports from various surrounding towns telling of the appearance there of the couple in the automobile make it appear that the accident resulting in the two deaths came at the end of a wild ride, interrupted by frequent stops at road houses and cafes.

It was at 9:30 o’clock last night that Elmer E. Searles of this town, returning home in his automobile, was passed in the main street by an automobile going at high speed. Searles looked after it and saw the machine skid into a large rock beside the roadside, turn partly over, and then slide along for several feet, finally settling bottom up. Searles started toward the wrecked car when there was an explosion and the machine was enveloped in flames.

There was no sign of the occupants of the car, and realizing that they must be pinned beneath it Searles tried to pull the burning car to one side. The flames interfered with him, and he rushed off to neighbors and brought them back with rope and tackle and a pair of horses.

Burning gasoline had set fire to the auto. When the tackle was made fast to the car and the horses dragged it to one side the bodies of Mr. Middlekauff and Miss Walpole were revealed. They lay side by side. They were taken in charge by the Coroner, who had them removed to Dover.

From the number of the machine is was learned that it belonged to Middlekauff, and at the Middlekauff home, John Snyder, Mr. Middlekauff’s chauffeur, said that his employer had been driving the car himself. He did not know the name of the young woman, but knew that she came from Scotch Plains, and she was identified later.

Snyder said that he had been summoned to Washington, N. J., by his employer yesterday morning and had found him unable to handle the car. Middlekauff had become angry, he said, when he told him this, and had ordered him to return home, which he had done.

In Washington it was learned that Middlekauff had arrived there alone in his car about 3 o’clock yesterday morning and had gone to sleep in the St. Cloud Hotel. After several hours of rest he drove off and returned later with Miss Walpole. The couple visited most of the cafés in town and drank much wine. Then Mr. Middlekauff sent for Snyder. Having ordered his chauffeur home again Mr. Middlekauff and the girl entered the auto and started out.

The last seen of them before the accident was at Welsh’s Garage in German Valley, where they stopped for gasoline, and Middlekauff introduced Miss Walpole as his daughter. Middlekauff’s body was taken in charge by a delegation of Elks, who went to Dover this afternoon. Miss Walpole’s body was taken to Scotch Plains.

The New York Times, New York, NY 11 May 1911

The moral of the story?

Don’t drink and drive… and hang out with suspiciously young girls… named Elsie… and sleep at the St. Cloud… and cruise like a maniac through Chester at a point in history when people could not even begin to conceive of air bags.

Also… don’t treat your chauffeur badly… especially when he has a cool name like Snyder.

Incidentally, the St. Cloud hotel burned down last year. I have photos HERE.

Also incidentally, I have NO idea if Snyder is an ancestor of mine.

I found this news article on the website GenDisasters. Worth a look.