2 September 2011
THE SETTING: In the 1948 musical “Paleface”, the world was introduced to the Oscar-winning song, “Buttons and Bows”. It’s initial line, you may remember, was “East is East and West is West, and the wrong one I have chose…” Well, our sabbatical journey has taken a turn, for East is East, and East is East. Confused?
THE JOURNEY: Last Saturday I set out from Sedalia, Colorado, in a three-day jaunt to Indianapolis. Why three days? What intervened? Well, partner, family!
Day one was a run from Sedalia through Denver to Lincoln, Nebraska. An overnight at the same Holiday Inn Express (ah, the creature of habit and the known!) consumed Saturday.
Sunday morning broke…. yes, it broke (I’m not telling if it was early, late, or later; it just broke). The bike-toting vehicle (the bike survived a night in the parking lot unmolested) headed for destination #1.
#1, DAVENPORT, IA: A 5+ hour journey east deposited me at the Fox News production facilities. It is here that my nephew / godson, Phil, works. For a number of years he was daily producer of the news for the local Fox outlet, and assisted with the same for other Fox outlets (e.g. Cheyenne, Wyoming); he was also the Sunday news anchor (the glamor part?) for the local news. A year ago he created his own small media production company; while he tries mightily to get it to fly, he continues to produce the news for Fox News (Omaha, Nebraska) through the Fox production company. More on this later.
Phil took a break to guide me across the Mississippi to Hamilton, Illinois. His dad, “Phil the older”, 81 years old and the widower of Ann (sister #1), resides there. A retired German teacher (he is first generation Irish with a talent for languages; at one point arrested in Germany — 1953 — for impersonating an American non-com because his German was just too good for the local polizei!), he remains physically robust. However a stroke has left him with short-term memory disability of some concern.
Phil the younger, returning to work, left Phil the older and I to explore dinner at his favorite restaurant in Moline, The Village Inn. A locally owned chain, the Village Inn provides American style comfort food (breakfast, lunch and dinner). Phil frequents at least once a day and is well-known by the wait-staff and management (by name and by menu choices!) Our conversation ranged over many topics: his three brothers (all now deceased); growing up in an Irish family (dad was an illegal alien, mom a fiery overseer); seminary days at St. Meinrad; army days in Germany (there were more deutsche anecdotes); days at Marian College in Indianapolis (where he met Ann); graduate school and teaching at Notre Dame (yeh, the Domed one) and Loyola, Chicago; raising a family (5 children ) with Ann; hobbies and passtimes; running into students in recent months from his many years at Moline High School and being surprised that they remember him; and missing the love of his life, Ann, who died July 1, 2004 of cancer. Needless to say, it was a long but reflective meal.
We agreed to meet with young Phil for breakfast the next day. Traveling back to the news production facilities I found Phil juggling the two hours before air-time with three major stories — two breaking even as he worked. Other colleagues were working as well: the live feed connection was established with the Omaha local reporter; the video production for all the stories made it to the “can”; the sports anchor arrived to work up his two segments; the weather anchor prepared his four segments. All had to morph into a smooth production, well interfaced and timed to the second, with a full script ready for the teleprompter (that’s Phil’s job)! In the midst of this, yours truly read, checked e-mail, and admired the relative calm and periodic frenzy of it all.
The news hour came and went. The flow from studio to Omaha remote feed was flawless (the youthful production staff in the booth air-high-fiving!). Omaha was well-informed — news, weather and sports — and from my perch in the rear of the booth I didn’t have to watch one commercial (production staff is spared that). And young Phil was excellent as the anchorman.
Post-production lead us home to young Phil’s. Some Maker’s Mark enhanced the uncle / nephew conversation which ranged over many topics: Phil’s production company and its progress; his working to become involved in local political leadership (Republican); and aspects of the Roman Catholic Church. Throughout his grasp of his work, the realities of politics local / national / international, and the Church revealed a young man of great insight, talent for writing, and a passion to succeed. He showed that he is his father’s son through his love of good literature (he is reading “Dante’s Inferno” in a new English translation which he enthusiastically showed me reveals the original Italian poetry). When this old man found yawn and nods too much it was well past 2:00am! My night’s rest was found on the sofa (I didn’t roll off).
Waking to Phil’s working for his production company, I quickly prepared myself for departure to breakfast. We enjoyed our meal, and then it was time for me to remove myself — East! Hugs, promises of prayer and maintaining electronic connection sent us all in our directions. The drive to Indy gave me time to mull the very full 20 hours I spent with them.
#2: INDIANAPOLIS, IN: Arrival in Indy was punctuated by a quick unloading at Mary’s apartment (northwest side), a quick shower, and driving back West (okay, this is a brief backtracking from the theme) to Rick’s on Eagle Creek Reservoir. There I met Margaret (81), Myra (81) and Mary (our senior member unwilling to have her age splayed all over the internet) for our annual August birthday dinner! For more years than any of us can recall, we have celebrated our August birthdays (one of our group, Alma, who would be 91, died a few years back; she and Margaret were the party animals who got us started.)
We have known each other since I was a boy at St. Andrew. The connections are deep and their origin varied — I knew Margaret as the lady who brought her young children to daily Mass when I was in my last years of grade school; Mary and her husband raised eight children, two with whom I attended St. Andrew and the Latin School; Myra, other than raising with her husband four children (the older son having been one of my campers at Rancho Framasa in Brown County) listened to me many an afternoon and into the late evening at her home when I was discerning my vocation; and loving Alma was a convert to Catholicism, a faithful parishioner and cook extraordinaire who loved to invite folks to her home to eat and talk on any and all topics. Two hours of measured drink, good food, stories of life and children and parish and Church expired far too quickly.
The next two days were wondrously consumed with visiting with Mary (sister #4), as well as my John (brother, #6 child) and his wife, Jeanette. We shared a wonderful dinner at Bazbeaux Pizza on Tuesday evening (way off my eating program!). On Wednesday evening John and I drove to the airport to retrieve a rental car for next leg of the journey (East! to visit friends and culminating in departure for Greece on September 14) and then shared a leisurely meal at a very familiar place, the Elbow Room (near downtown), all the while updating each other about our lives.
Between meals the job of planning what to pack for a month in the USA and Greece had to be addressed, a task requiring many decisions that proved mentally taxing. (It found resolution on Thursday morning — because it had to be done!) simultaneously my end-of-the month paying of bills, closing out the month, and opening the new month financially had to be tackled (sabbatical does not magically defer these). I also spent a pleasant hour with John Shaughnessy of the Criterion who is writing about the three priests of our Archdiocese who were awarded Lilly Grants for their sabbaticals. (I did learn something for my next sabbatical — allow more time between large “away” segments; two days is just too little time to decompress from travel and prepare for more!)
Finally, on Thursday at 12:30pm, bags packed and all details attended, the rental car and I set out East — really! But more about that in the next entry.
(I apologize for the lack of pictures in this posting. The rush of getting so much packed (hah!) into such a short time frame seems to have disconnected my picture-taking nerve endings!)
thpastor 