Linda Roorda

Approaching Memorial Day, my thoughts are of all who gave their lives in war that we and so many around the world might live in freedom. Their battles on the field and in the mind are not what we who have never been there can truly fathom. We can listen to or read survivors’ stories, hear of their fears amid tales of bravery, empathize with the sadness and trauma as they share the loss of buddies and who and what they might have become, consider questions relating to the whys and wherefores of war and the lessons learned, but we can never fully comprehend unless we’ve been there. I’m very thankful for all who have served for the sake of freedom, but especially remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice. Yet, even this season of corona-virus pandemic has been compared an invisible war. Here and around the world, we’ve battled an infection that struck unexpectedly. Our medical professionals grew weary on the battlefront, facing daily unknowns, while being the sole comfort of those dying without family present. We faced the loss of family and community members, not to mention the toll among the greater world community. We saw unemployment numbers skyrocket, houses of worship closing for a time, businesses being shuttered forever, long lines of the weary waiting patiently for free food, arrests of those trying to open their business to normalcy while hardened criminals are released from jail only to commit crimes again, and we’re left with doubts and fears. Will life ever be normal again? I have doubts and fears, too. If we’re honest, we all do. We think we’re not good enough and will never measure up. We may doubt our abilities or skills, fear a lack of control in certain situations, or fear the unknown future. We look for accolades to prop us up, to make us feel better about ourselves, trying to prove that we really are someone of some importance. But I have to ask: whose voice am I listening to? That inner voice which berates me for every mistake, every misstep, every poor choice or selfish deed, even looking for praise… or, am I listening in humility to God’s gentle nudging, that quiet voice in my soul from His deep and tender love? A number of times I’ve been nudged with a gentle inner whisper, while other times I’ve heard His voice speak loud and clear. Unfortunately, I have not always listened and reacted as I should have. My will, my desired outcome, got in the way of God’s voice. I need to remember to “be still, and know that [He is] God.” (Psalm 46:10a) For when I quiet my frantic ruminations and sit still, humbly and quietly waiting to hear the Lord’s guiding words, it’s then that my heart is receptive, and my doubts and fears subside. Open to profound wisdom and examples of Christ’s love in the world around us, I recall “Blood Brothers” from M*A*S*H (April 6, 1981). https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0638258/ This episode is a classic, my favorite about the medical unit’s priest, Father Francis Mulcahy. I appreciate his quiet gentle ways, words of wisdom, and deep humility, yet I also appreciate that he is not so “holier than thou.” Like the rest of us in many ways, he reveals a temper flare at times. Knowing his superior, Cardinal Reardon, is scheduled to visit and review what Mulcahy has accomplished at the 4077th, the good Father wants everything and everyone around him to show perfection… including his own sermon. Instead, Mulcahy becomes cranky and frantic with constant interruptions from side issues. Oh, so like me at times! In the midst of feeling sorry for himself, Father Mulcahy learns that Capt. Pierce has just diagnosed one of his patients with an incurable disease. Offering his own blood for his severely wounded best friend, a young soldier is told he has leukemia and can’t give blood. Arguing about plans to send him out the next morning to the hospital in Seoul, Pvt. Gary Sturgis insists to frustrated Capt. Pierce that he wants to stay. A matter of days won’t bring him a cure, and it’s more important that he be at his buddy’s side when his wounded and unconscious friend wakes up. Ultimately, Father Mulcahy sits down and talks with Sturgis. The next morning, Cpl. Max Klinger searches for and finally finds the Father still in his pajamas and bathrobe, engrossed in conversation with Sturgis. Suddenly realizing the entire night has passed them by, Mulcahy is self-conscious and visibly upset at himself. Totally unprepared to face the Cardinal and his congregants, Mulcahy enters the mess tent used for the worship service. Stumbling over apologies for his lateness and disheveled appearance, and lack of a well-written sermon, Father Mulcahy decides to simply tell the truth. “I want to tell you about two men. Each facing his own crisis. The first man you know rather well. The second is a patient here. Well, the first man thought he was facing a crisis. But what he was really doing was trying to impress someone. He was looking for recognition, encouragement, a pat on the back. And whenever that recognition seemed threatened, he reacted rather childishly. Blamed everyone for his problems but himself, because he was thinking only of himself. But the second man was confronted with the greatest crisis mortal man can face - the loss of his life. I think you will agree that the second man had every right to be selfish. But instead he chose to think not of himself, but of a brother. A brother! When the first man saw the dignity and the selflessness of the second man, he realized how petty and selfish he had... I... I... I had been! It made me see something more clearly than I've ever seen it before. God didn't put us here for that pat on the back. He created us so He could be here himself. So, He could exist in the lives of those He created in his image.” What great words to live by! We truly have a purpose in life! We can learn so much from others around us in examples of Christ’s love… even as we’re in the world, but not of it. (John 17:14-16) Just as our “faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1), so should our doubts and fears disappear in the presence of our Lord. “You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord…is the Rock eternal.” (Isaiah 26:3,4) It’s not the inner negatives nor the adulation I hope to hear that matters. It’s where my heart resides in humility as I seek our Lord’s approval. As we each grow in faith, we look to God to guide us through our fears, doubts of inadequacy or inferiority that plague our thoughts, the negativity which so easily berates us… remembering and recognizing that we belong to God, and are loved beyond measure by Him. Christ lives in us as we become His hands and feet to reach others. In bringing Him our praise, we will hear His still small voice in our hearts, removing all doubts and fears that assail no matter what we face. When Doubts Assail… Linda A. Roorda When doubts assail look up beyond self Focus on truth from wisdom above. Take heart from His words spoken in peace And know He holds you in the palm of His hand. ~ When doubts assail know you’re not alone There’s Someone who cares, your burden to bear. He’ll give you His peace and provide a way through As darkest of nights emerge in new dawn. ~ When doubts assail and plague your heart Thinking your worth isn’t good enough, That you could never measure up in life, Know there is Someone who believes in you. ~ When doubts assail and fears haunt your path Speak softly in prayer and listen for His voice, That gentlest nudge stirring in your soul, As He guides your steps in the way you should go. ~ When doubts assail be eager to learn At the feet of Him whose wisdom excels, Bask in His love and dwell in His presence Building your faith to prosper in truth. ~ When doubts assail lift your voice in song Glorify His name with reverence and awe, For Holy is He, full of mercy and grace… As a child of the King, you’re loved beyond measure. To listen to this blog in podcast format, go to Balms for the Soul Podcast by Carla Cain, and scroll down to "When Doubts Assail", click to listen, and find others with my name. ~~

As we travel life’s path, we all manage to lose a few things… like special trinkets, and perhaps a few friends from another time and another place as life moves on. We even lose our patience a few more times than we care to admit. Though losing something special can be painful, it’s different from giving it away… releasing that treasure on our own is a whole other story, a gift of love. In this season of graduations, my thoughts began to travel in the direction of releasing our treasured youth with love. Letting go of what we hold dear can be difficult, perhaps even bittersweet, yet the release can leave us with a warm glow in our heart. It’s a process that takes time. As Corrie ten Boom, one of my favorite authors and evangelists, once said, “I have learned to hold all things loosely, so God will not have to pry them out of my hands.” Like a mother hen, we lovingly protect and keep our little ones safe, and try to impart some of our hard-earned wisdom over time before letting them take off on their own. After all, we truly want the best for them! But, as our little ones grow up, they mature with a wisdom found only by taking some of life’s most difficult steps. Learning to walk, falling down is a frequent occurrence as they learn how to get back up and try again. Then, as they continue to grow and mature, they also benefit by failing a few times, learning how to pick themselves up to try again. At times, though, I was over protective of my children, a hover-mother, not wanting them to face some of the difficulties I did… not my best parenting idea. I loved my children and wanted to be involved in every aspect of their little lives, encouraging them to be all they could be. We all know parenting has its challenges, and every so often I’d say, “It’s hard to raise a mother!” Raising our children was a joint learning venture, especially since they managed to arrive without an individual instruction manual in hand. But, now we have the pleasure of watching our children raise their children. And hearing their stories holds extra special meaning. Like when our daughter, Emily, was trying to put her middle son down for a nap. He had every excuse in the book as he fussed around. Finally, she let him know how frustrated she was getting with him. Patting her arm, 3-year-old Sam gently said, “It’s ok, Mom. You’ll get used to it!” And Em had to tuck her face into his blanket so he wouldn’t see her laughing. There’s more wisdom in those words than little Sam could have ever known! For out of the mouths of babes comes wisdom sweet. Should we hold too tightly to our children and their childhood, we may not allow them the freedom they need to grow with life’s changes. They may not become the well-adjusted mature adults they are meant to be. And, if we fail to help them discipline their own actions, they won’t know the rewards of self-control. Each child is a unique individual, a most precious gift from God to be treasured and loved as we guide them in starting their journey of life. My friend, Mimi, once shared a quote from her stitchery with me – “There are two lasting gifts we can give to our children – one is roots, the other is wings.” How true! May we love our children enough to provide them with the deep roots of a sturdy foundation, laughing and crying alongside them, while giving them wings and freedom to fly out into the great big world on their own. And may we learn the gift of releasing with love… allowing us all to see the beauty deep within their heart. Releasing With Love Linda A. Roorda Along life’s journey we lose a few things Like fancy trinkets and friends of the heart Even some time, and patience, too All that holds meaning through our hands will slip. ~ Losing possessions with meaning attached Shows how futile to retain our grip As respected wisdom gives true perspective That where grace abounds we hold but loosely. ~ When losing our self for a greater good We follow a path of godly wisdom And in giving thought to what holds our heart Is found the key essential to life. ~ For the years of youth build up to the time When wisdom is gained and freedom earned, We’ve gently led and helped them to know It’s time to fly on wings of their own. ~ By clutching firmly life’s fleeting passage We cannot grasp the beauty within For in the act of releasing with love We’ll come to treasure each moment’s sweet gift. ~~

Maybe we don’t say it enough… those little words that mean so much - “You made a difference…” or “I appreciate you…” or “I love you!” Along with the words, there are ways we can show how much we care, and here are a few I’ve been pondering. Since retiring, I have totally enjoyed a second “career” - subbing in our public school district, and noticed something right away that has been consistent… the welcoming words and smiles from staff on up to the principals and superintendent – words of appreciation and thanks for coming in and helping out, for being there for the kids, no matter their age, from pre-K thru high school. And it got me to thinking about us as family and friends. I appreciate each of you for who you are, for your being a very special part of my life, for your kind loving words, for words of wisdom and words that teach me… Thank you! You’ve made a difference in my life! And I love you! In thinking about others, one of the best ways we can express how much we care is by simply serving them, expecting nothing in return. As the Apostle Paul wrote, “Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:4) Ask how they’re doing, and truly listen when they express life is not going so well. Make the effort to really understand what someone else might be feeling, or what they might be going through. Volunteer your time, that often rare commodity in our hectic schedules. We can help those in a difficult situation, or recovering from surgery or illness. We can provide a meal, or simply give attention to a shut-in to let them know they’ve not been forgotten. Perhaps we could volunteer in a program where serving will benefit many… such as the local fire department, ambulance squad, an emergency department, or a local food cupboard. There are so many ways we can share our time to show how much we care. Be a mentor to others. Encourage them in their endeavors. Help them succeed. Lift them up emotionally. Listen to their concerns. Cheer them on! Perhaps helping to widen their horizon in a favorite hobby might lead them into a fulfilling life-time career. Be there for the grieving. Many words aren’t necessary. Simple silence with a hug in sitting with them brings comfort. Listen to their heart as they express their sorrow. Share their pain. Show you care. Give a smile to those you meet along your daily path, even strangers! Watch their face light up knowing that you care enough to share a simple smile to brighten their day! Be joyful for each other! Praise them for even their smallest accomplishments, and express how happy you are for them in their greater successes. Let someone know you'll pray for them. Make someone a gift using your special talents, or gift them something unique to their interests. Greet others with a genuine friendly tone. Share a positive attitude. Make others feel wanted and welcomed. Let them know how much you appreciate them and all that they do. With the passing of a friend’s daughter this past week, the age of my children, who shared my March birthday, I shed tears of sadness for her family in their deepest loss. She had become a dedicated funeral director, comforting those who grieved their loved ones. She moved on to a new job, showing those in need, and those she took care of in group homes, the depths of love from her heart. Loved by family and friends, she made a difference in the lives of others. I also learned this week that a friend, a distant cousin found when I was seeking to fill in my Mom’s ancestry, is in serious condition in ICU. And my heart breaks for her and her family, as we pray for her recovery. Treasured like a sister, we bonded right away, learning we had so much in common when we first met online. We shared family ancestry data that we had gathered, as I learned much from her. A former nurse, she next found fulfillment as a teacher’s aide, assisting special needs children. In so many ways, she makes a difference in the lives of those with whom she comes in contact from her own caring and generous loving heart. Last month, I shared some of our daughter Jenn’s writings for a college psych course, as a memorial to who she was. Passing away too young at 25 in 2003, she had much to look forward to, but God knew her days before even one of them came to be… and she made a difference in the lives of everyone around her with gentleness, wisdom, and a kind and caring heart of love. And I know that you, too, can name many examples of how others made a difference in the world around them, even in your life… just as you share this same loving kindness to make a difference in someone else’s life… someone in need of your compassion, comfort, kindness and generosity. Feel free to share your thoughts with us all below. We can each make a difference wherever we are in whatever we do! Shining our inner light as a reflection of Christ’s love within us, we let others know how much we care about them. Be the one who makes a difference in the world today! You Made A Difference… Linda A. Roorda You made a difference in the world today… You gave a smile to someone in need Your face truly showed you cared from the heart For your love was felt wrapped up in the glow. You made a difference in the world today… You lent an ear to someone hurting You listened to tears and heard their story You held their heart in the depths of your soul. You made a difference in the world today… You walked the path where a friend was plodding You carried their burden, you went the extra mile, You eased their stress and brought hope to their day. You made a difference in the world today… Your hands rough and worn, were held out with warmth Bestowing attention, you covered their needs As your arms enveloped to guard and protect. You made a difference in the world today… You spoke words of truth with gentle kindness You showed concern, asking how they were And shared their dreams scattered in the storm. You made a difference in the world today… You took the time to sit in silence You held their hand bringing peace and comfort When their life was torn apart in sorrow. You made a difference in the world today… You shared their joy with laughter’s ring You praised them for a job well done As your love and hugs showed the depth of care. ~~ 03/14/21 – 03/19/21

Thanks so much Nick! Appreciate you mentioning this local website again; I'm adding it in right now.

As we conclude our discussion on how and where to begin your ancestry research with suggestions based on my experience, I thought it would be helpful to collect the online resources in one place. The following is a list of some of the many online sources which I found most helpful. I also continue to stress that not all submitted family records on any given site are totally accurate. Unintentional errors and misspellings in data do creep in. It is up to you to seek out and prove the accuracy of whatever data you find online about your ancestors. Unless you know a book is truly accurate and can prove the author had sound documentation, do not take a published book as fact “just because it says so.” That’s how I proved errors that had been accepted as fact for decades as I noted previously. The extra footwork involved can be extensive, but it’s worth every effort put forth to have solid documentation for your family’s ancestral heritage. Click on each website you wish to visit entitled in bold black and underlined: Ancestry.com – free 1880 census record; but, for an annual subscription fee, you get in-depth census records from 1790-1930, military records, city and national records, land records, international records, family trees, baptisms, marriages, death index records, and so much more. Family Search - free website with 1880 census records, baptism, marriage records, death records, and submitted family data. Books and documents on microfilm can be ordered and viewed at a Family History Center of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, locally in Owego or Elmira. They also have a free down-loadable Personal Ancestral File, PAF, which I have used, though I prefer the Family Tree Maker. My Heritage – discover your roots in a free trial to a subscription-based genealogy compilation. I have not used this site. Olive Tree Genealogy - free old church/cemetery records, 1600s ships’ lists, records for New Netherland, Palatines, Mennonites, Loyalists, Native American, Military, and Canadian data, etc. I found this website to be very helpful in my early research nearly 20 years ago. RootsWeb – free source of records, county genweb sites, surname lists, e-mail lists, posted documentation for cemeteries, church records, family websites and more. Recently underwent a full-site rebuilding, so I am not as familiar with its changes, but it's well worth checking out for valuable resources under various sections. CyndisList - free listing of American and International records and resources – a great resource. Vital Records – U.S. birth certificates, death records, and marriage licenses for a fee. U.S. GenWeb – free County GenWeb sites with a lot of data to aid your research. Three Rivers – free source for middle-eastern New York families in the Hudson, Mohawk, Schoharie river regions, family genealogies, books, etc. Sampubco - Wills from several states, but not all wills. Fee for copies. I purchased several wills from this website and was very pleased with the service. National Archives and Records Administration – Click on Veterans’ Service Records section to begin searching. You will find military service records, pension records of veterans’ claims, draft registration records, and bounty land warrant application files and records available. Order forms are free, but you pay a fee to order copies of records. Well worth the cost. NARA contact/forms – see various forms listed for National Archives Records Administration, government war records. Obtain free forms from which to order military records including pre-Civil War full service records or pension application files (on NATF Form 85 and/or 86; forms are free). Some list family members, others do not. You will find a good amount of information in files re: a soldier’s service, enlistment, capture, discharge, death, etc.,; these records provide valuable documentation. Soldiers and Sailors Database - Civil War Soldiers and Sailors Database for military records. Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island Foundation - search passenger and ship manifest records free, or order quality record copies for a fee. Ship manifest records are also found at Ancestry.com, a subscription resource. New York Biographical and Genealogical Society – very trustworthy site with many online articles/records; they are working to put more records online; however, most are limited to membership in the Society. The Steele Library in Elmira has the full set of the New York Genealogical and Biographical Record and the New England Genealogical Journal. I can attest to the high quality of published research and records in both journals. I used these journals in my research, with my documented research articles published in the NYGBR. Search my name and you will find my published articles. In order to publish, you must prove all of your statements with solid documentation. Making of America, Cornell University – old books, magazines, newspapers online in searchable/readable format – worth wading through this free resource. Higginson Book Company, Salem, Mass. - old maps, family surname genealogies, county/state historical books, published cemetery and church records, etc. Contact for free catalog; copies books/records obtained for a fee but worth it, from which I purchased a few books. Olin Uris Library, Cornell University - Cornell University’s guide to research in their extensive holdings. They note that, unfortunately, not all their genealogical books are kept in one section. Find-A-Grave - free resource of many gravestones around the United States. Be careful of family notes – I found errors in a family of my close relatives; when I contacted the contributor who added notes tying my family to theirs by error, there was no response, no correction. Tri-Counties Genealogy & History by Joyce M. Tice - A local website for genealogy research and local history in Bradford Co., PA, Chemung Co., NY, and Tioga Co., PA. TIPS ON FRAUDULENT LINEAGES: Family Search Fraudulent Genealogies Genealogy Today: Good Researcher Gone Bad Gustav Anjou, Fraudulent Genealogist Genealogy.com, locating published genealogies Genealogy Bank: Researching your Pilgrim Ancestry from the Mayflower Again, locally, the Steele Library in Elmira has an excellent genealogy section on the second floor to aid your research. I spent many a Saturday morning searching through their collection for documentation on my ancestry data and can highly recommend it. Cornell University also has a major genealogy library collection, but I was afraid to go on campus for a personal visit. I purchased several books for my personal library of my family ancestry with records of the Early Palatine Families of New York 1710 by Henry Z. Jones, Jr., history of settlement and families of Montgomery and Fulton Counties, NY and Schoharie County, NY, CDs of the New York Genealogical & Biographical Record articles, early Schenectady families by Pearson, and so much more if anyone is interested in a lookup. And, last but not least, your local library can order books through the interlibrary loan system. This was a tremendously helpful resource to me for out-of-county and out-of-state historical/genealogical books, including those in Cornell University's repository. I could not have done it without these resources. I must also give credit to the many friends I made along my genealogical journey, some of whom proved to be distant cousins and have remained close friends, and from whom I learned. We shared data, books, and a love for our ancestral families. And now, I wish you every success as you search for your ancestors. Enjoy your journey!

I wish every Mother a very Happy Mother’s Day, including those without children who mother other children! Below is another different reflection, but written out of the blessing from within life’s difficult reality. Nor is it my very first poem, but close enough. It was written at an extremely difficult and stressful time in my life after my mother had a stroke on Christmas Day 2011. My mother was different. As I grew up, we didn’t get along well, and that continued as I raised my own family. I envied friends whose mothers talked easily with their kids, were involved in their lives, and who enjoyed doing fun things with their family. Growing up, I picked up on little cues from those who didn’t seem to like her or made fun of her in subtle and, sometimes, not-so-subtle ways. She was mocked and belittled. She was beaten up, twice, by the same hand that physically lashed out at me but not my sister. I hurt for her, and didn’t understand what was wrong... She was always “there” with us, but I/we couldn’t talk with her. She didn’t play with us as kids; but, then, neither did her mother, who had been involved with raising, feeding and clothing 12 children, feeding groups of farmers as they all went around helping each other with crops and butchering animals for food, growing a huge garden, helping with farm chores for a large dairy and several thousand chickens – all without running water until a year or so before my mother was born. My mother was distant, not someone I could share my heart with, confide in, or seek help from for my problems. Simply put, I felt she was not a good mother. And, as the oldest of six, I dreaded the day when I would have to “take care of her,” especially after my dad left and remarried. The call came the evening of Christmas Day 2011. It was my mother. I could barely understand a word she said, her speech was so garbled, but I managed to make out, “…stroke… need help…” That sent a shockwave of fear and sadness through my heart. Oh no! My poor mother! But, what do I do? I’m ashamed to say it, but I wanted to turn around and find someplace to hide. Why did I have to be the oldest child? Why did I have to feel so responsible for everyone and everything, always? Suddenly, I felt very alone. The time had come for me to take care of my mother, and I was not prepared. Thank God for her sister, my Aunt Lois. I contacted her and she willingly offered to go with me to visit my mother in the hospital and later the nursing home in Rochester, nearly three hours away. A city… that alone struck fear in my heart – I don’t like driving in cities. During our trips to and from Rochester, Aunt Lois and I had some great talks, a time of sharing and understanding. My mother is the 11th child in an old-fashioned farm family, while Aunt Lois is the youngest. They were aunts to nieces about the same ages they were. I don’t even know all my relatives! Visiting my mother brought me up short to the realities of life. As a medical transcriptionist, I saw this all the time in my work – folks are fine one minute, but the next minute their life is altered by a sudden change in health. My mother, at 78, still worked as a part-time toll collector on the thruway. Not only was her life suddenly and unexpectedly changed from being active to being an invalid, but my life was in the process of being totally turned upside down, too. Over the years I had asked my mother to let me know where she lived – “Yeah, I’ll send you directions,” she’d say, but she never did. I’d asked her to make a list of important papers, where she did her banking, etc., just in case something ever happened – “Yeah, I’ll write it down,” she’d say, but she never did. Now, something had happened, and I was forced to take charge of her affairs with no clue of where or how to begin. I signed papers to be her Power of Attorney and Health Care Proxy. But I had no idea about what to do! I didn’t even know where she lived! I felt so utterly overwhelmed. I already had so much on my plate caring for my husband with his blindness and multitude of health issues, working full time from 3-11 a.m. at a hospital, and taking my husband nearly every afternoon of every week for so many years to so many medical appointments, plus taking care of most all household chores. I literally wanted to turn around and walk (no, run) away from everything I faced… but I knew that was not an option. I felt so helpless. And so I prayed. And a poem, a desperate plea really, wrote itself in my mind and it became my prayer to God, over and over: Though I may weaken and crumble Beneath the strain of stress, Be there, Lord, to guide me safe O’er crashing waters near. Be my tower of mighty strength Firm and strong to lean upon. When I think impossible Help me take that other step. Aunt Lois helped me find my mother’s apartment and van. The neighbor ladies shared they’d heard my mother’s calls for help and saw her fingers poking out from under the door. My mother managed to reach her keys and pushed them under the door so the ladies could unlock it. They found her sprawled on the floor, unable to get up. She absolutely refused to let them call an ambulance to take her to the hospital; all they could do was help her back to bed. They apologized to me that they hadn’t called an ambulance anyway, but I reassured them I was not blaming them. This was out of their hands; my mother had vehemently refused their assistance, even though they should have called an ambulance anyway. But I was not into blaming. The next day, Christmas Day, my mother knew something was terribly wrong and had called the ambulance herself. I scheduled more time off from work to spend a few days with my friend, Sue, now living in Rochester, who willingly offered to help me start taking care of my mother’s affairs. She, too, was a blessing from God. She knew just what to do, and kept me calm! She helped me find the banks my mother used, and establish my Power of Attorney with them so I could take care of the necessaries. On returning to my mother’s apartment and opening the door, I was shocked at what I saw as reality sank in. Actually, I was ashamed and angry! “How could she live like this!” I cried. She was a hoarder. There was a narrow path through the debris of her life scattered around the apartment. I knew what her van looked like inside over the years, but had no idea her apartment was this bad, too! Tears rolled, and hugs were given as Aunt Lois and her daughter, Donna, joined me and Sue to help with the cleanup. With their sense of humor, they kept my head above water with laughter as we spent hours sorting through every piece of mail, every box, and every bag of stuff to keep or toss. And, unfortunately, a lot of her life had to be tossed. I simply had no room at my home. Then, another friend, Elaine, a retired legal secretary, willingly came alongside to assist. She helped me clean out the van, and sort through the stash of important papers we’d found strewn around the apartment and van. With a small filing box and file folders, she organized the papers by labeling and sorting. In my frustration, I made the comment about the unbelievable mess, especially after finding papers that she had not one, but two, storage units full of more stuff that needed to be cleaned out! In her gentle way, Elaine reminded me of what the doctor had said, “Your mother has been mentally ill for a long time. That is why she was a hoarder and lived the way she did.” Elaine’s comment hit me hard emotionally, but they were words I needed to hear. I was so overwhelmed at having to blindly pick up the pieces of my mother’s life that I hadn’t seen what was obvious to the doctor and others – she really had been mentally ill for many years, if not her whole life. That’s why we and others thought she was odd. That’s why she couldn’t relate to us kids. Now, after being properly diagnosed by her physicians, and being put on medication, she’s so much better emotionally. With Elaine’s gentle comment, I finally came to terms with, and understood, my mother’s emotional fragility, and thanked Elaine for the awakening in my heart. I came to understand that my Mom had lost her husband and her children to divorce, and all her stuff was the balance of what she could control by desperately holding onto it all. Through the difficulty of picking up the pieces of my mother’s life, sorting blindly through her affairs that I’d known nothing about, making a ton of phone calls to her employer and banks, etc., getting her into my first-choice nursing home near me, filling out the application and gathering copies necessary for the massive Medicaid application process, and handling several legal judgments and subpoenas against her for debts, God was with me every step of the way. He answered my desperate plea more abundantly than I ever expected! Every time I felt utterly overwhelmed, God put someone there to walk with me, guide me, and help me over each new hurdle. Even to the card which arrived from my daughter-in-law’s mother, MaryEllen, on the very day I got the letter from the department of social services with its overwhelming huge list of requirements for the Medicaid process, some of which we never did find and which DSS granted a special waiver with understanding, and then to having Elaine’s experience guide me through it. And I must give special thanks to my husband, Edward, who has been here every step of the way, supporting me and guiding me with his quiet words of wisdom while being unable to help physically. In visiting with my mother at the nursing home, our relationship has grown. So, I decided to do something special for her – to make a quilt. Since I was a teen, I’ve loved to sew clothes and quilts for myself and family, but hadn’t made time to sew in ages. Around this time, I’d made Ed and myself each a log cabin design quilt using our old jeans, followed by a quilt for each grandchild. On asking my mother what her favorite color was, she replied, “I don’t know. I never had a favorite color.” I felt a stab to my heart. How could someone not have a favorite color? So, I decided that since she was a September baby, I’d use shades of sage green and golden browns. Making her quilt was a labor of love and I couldn’t wait to give it to her that upcoming Easter Sunday. And she absolutely loved it! But, you know what else special happened? On our walk one evening back then, Ed told me I’d begun calling her “Mom” - she wasn’t just “my mother” anymore! God used her stroke to work a miracle in my heart, and I have come to love the Mom that He blessed me with! And God has given me one more blessing in the aftermath. My Dad, who had walked away from me for a time, began corresponding with me again after I sent a Christmas card. He even voiced approval for how well I’d handled every difficulty in life that was tossed my way, including a compliment on how well I was taking care of my mother. And, when I broke the ice by saying words I don’t recall ever hearing while growing up, Dad and Mom both responded by saying “I love you” every time we talked! Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! I love you! (Photo above of my Mom holding me, her first precious baby.) Be My Tower Linda A. Roorda Though I may weaken and crumble Beneath the strain of stress, Be there, Lord, to guide me safe O’er crashing waters nigh. Be my tower of mighty strength Firm and strong to lean upon. When I think “impossible,” Help me take that other step. ~ 12/31/11

There are many free genealogy websites which are a great resource for records and helpful family data, including RootsWeb. This free site, part of the ancestry.com family, includes a RootsWeb Family History Wiki section with their guide to searching your family trees. Along with Hosted Web Sites, you will find great tips and websites on how to begin searching, a list of sources and where to find various records, and a list of various countries/ethnic groups. Clicking on any of their hi-lited items will provide information on beginning your research. The RootsWeb page has been updated since I first used it 20 years ago, taken down the past few years while it was under re-construction. Feel free to check them out for their usable functions, like the Message Boards. Sadly, I think it's not as comprehensive as it once was. You can search surname listings under RootsWeb's “Connect to Family Trees” section to see what might be out there, though this page does not appear to be complete in its listings. But, entering a name in the search tab might garner some valuable family information for you. My favorite section years ago was the “U.S. Town/County Database.” Here, I have found a wealth of information for vital records from churches and cemeteries, biographies, family lineages, and more. Researching my Mom’s early New York families often brought me to the New Amsterdam/New York City, and the Albany, Schenectady and Schoharie county genweb sites. Under the section labeled “Message Boards,” you can search your surname of interest, read other posts, and post your own query for information which I have done. Folks on these message boards have been very helpful. This has also been a resource to meet extended relatives in various lines, which I have also done. We shared our own research and documented data with each other. Several friendships were made this way, and they continue to be counted among my close friends today. I did find errors in submitted family trees on RootsWeb (or other online family websites) when I began my ancestry search, prompting my own research to document, write and publish my family articles in the highly recommended and accurate New York Genealogical and Biographical Journal. For that reason, I tend to stay away from submitted family trees when seeking information on my ancestors, though you can certainly get answers to questions here. I prefer to do as much footwork as I can on my own, albeit with guidance from friends who taught me as I learned along the way. Submitted trees certainly can be entirely accurate; however, if used as a starting point with other online records, you can then seek sources to provide solid documentation and corroborative proof, i.e. church and cemetery records in reputable books or journals, census records, wills, etc. The next section is “Mailing Lists.” These lists were also invaluable to me years ago, but it is no longer usable as noted on the updated website. I was formerly on an email list which provided discussions on various topics relating to the early settlers and records of the 1600s and 1700s in New Netherlands/New York. It was a rewarding experience to reply to someone’s query by contributing data I have in a book of ancient Albany’s city and county records that was helpful to others. From RootsWeb, I subscribed years ago to the Schoharie County email list. That resource was where I saw the notice by a professor from Long Island who found an old photo in a Washington, D.C. antique shop. The pencil writing on the back of the matting read, “First Tillapaugh Reunion July 1910…” I replied that my mother’s two oldest brothers inherited that farm, and their sons continue to farm it today. A reproduction of the photo is in the Dallenbach book of descendants which I own, so I was well aware of what the professor had found. In fact, the house in the photo, built in the 1830s, is still very much in use today. I was offered the opportunity to purchase the photo which, of course, I did, thus beginning my genealogy research in earnest in the late 1990s. Other sections like “Quick Links” have important site listings including Find-A-Grave. These options may include national and international websites, other tools and resources such as blank forms and charts, and hosted volunteer projects. The latter includes books owned by folks who are willing to research them for information you might need from a particular book. Your search may also find volunteers who are able to do local lookups at either cemeteries or historical societies for you. When volunteers have helped by doing research footwork for me, I felt it appropriate to pay their expenses, a much-appreciated gift. You can also submit your FamilyTreeMaker data to RootsWeb. Instead, of doing that, I submitted a McNeill descendancy outline I wrote up with names and dates of birth to the Schoharie County Genweb site where it would be more likely to be of value for descendants. It is also common courtesy not to submit names of any living relatives, or those born within the past 100 years out of respect for privacy. I included no one born from 1900 through the 20th century. Another free online source of cross-referenced data is the comprehensive site called CyndisList. The Categories section provides a list of resources, including American state and government as well as international resources. There is an Adoption section to help find orphans and living people, message boards, and volunteers to assist your search. A section entitled Free Stuff includes charts and forms, translation tools, online databases to search, volunteer lookups, surname family associations and newsletters, etc. Sections you might not have thought about are included at CyndisList: 1) Migration Routes, Roads and Trails, 2) Canals, Rivers and Waterways, and 3) Immigration and Naturalization. There are sections entitled Heraldry, Hit a Brick Wall?, and Ships & Passenger Lists. The Mailing Lists are great for asking questions when you’re stumped, and for connecting with researchers working on the same lines. There are also sites to purchase items, and free trials to search various genealogy websites before paying their site subscription fee. Ancestry.com has some free data, like the 1880 Federal Census records, but the best records are obtained using subscription-based entrance. Here, you will find tabs for Home, Trees, Search, DNA, Help, and Extras. It is an invaluable resource. Perhaps your ancestors came through Ellis Island. Search The Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island Foundation to find your ancestors and the ship on which they sailed. A ship’s manifest lists the passengers, their age, name of the ship, port, date of departure, occupation, nearest relative in their country of origin, and their sponsor in the U.S. I found information for my husband’s paternal grandfather’s family when they emigrated from Holland in the early 1920s. Some went first to North Dakota before settling in northern New Jersey as dairy farmers while others settled right away in northern New Jersey and Massachusetts to work in the textile mills. I also found records at the Ellis Island website for my father’s families which emigrated from the Netherlands. Like many families, both of my father’s grandfathers came through Ellis Island, each with their oldest son – my dad’s paternal grandfather in November 1922, and his maternal grandfather in September 1923. They settled in and around Kalamazoo, Michigan among other Dutch. When they earned enough money, they sent for the rest of their family. My paternal grandfather emigrated from Uithuizermeeden in the province of Groningen at age 15 on July 1923 with his mother and siblings through Ellis Island. However, my dad’s maternal grandfather was determined his wife and children would not go through the rigors of steerage and Ellis Island. Instead, he sent money back home to them in Rotterdam for second-class tickets. Decades ago, my grandmother told me only a little about their sailing on the S. S. Rotterdam to Hoboken, New Jersey. Research showed the ship came into a New York City port in January 1926, with the ship’s manifest listing my grandmother’s family. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask more questions. She told me that a Dutchman, who made a living helping immigrants, met my great-grandmother and her children (my grandmother was age 15), and took them to his home in Hoboken, New Jersey. He fed them, put them up overnight, and the next morning put them on the right train to Michigan with lunches in hand. There, my great-grandmother was reunited with her husband, and my grandmother and her siblings with their father and oldest brother. How exciting that must have been! My grandparents married in 1931 and lived in Kalamazoo, Michigan. With the Great Depression, my grandfather and his father lost everything as building contractors. They removed to another Dutch enclave in Clifton, New Jersey where my grandfather became a door-to-door salesman before later becoming a successful general contractor, with many a beautiful house or remodeling project to his credit. You can purchase quality photo documentation of the ships your ancestors sailed on. However, I simply printed the free online photo of the ships on which my ancestors sailed, along with each respective ship’s manifest for documentation. I used both Ancestry.com and the Ellis Island websites to obtain records. For steerage immigrants, the Ellis Island experience included passing a medical and legal inspection. If your papers were in order, and you were in reasonably good health, the inspection process typically lasted 3-5 hours. The ship’s manifest log was used by inspectors to cross-examine each immigrant during the primary inspection. Though Ellis Island has been called the “Island of Tears,” the vast majority of immigrants were treated respectfully and allowed to enter America to begin their new life. However, about two percent of immigrants were denied entry. Typically, if you were suspected of having a contagious illness, or if the inspector thought you might become a public burden, entrance to the U.S. was denied. I can only imagine the pain it must have caused when one or more family members were told they had to go back to their native country. I am very appreciative of the efforts my many ancestors made to emigrate from their home country, to which none ever returned, of becoming American citizens, and of their hard work to provide a better way of life for their family. By sharing bits of my ancestral heritage, of who they were and whence they came, I hope it has encouraged you to search for your ancestors, to find their place in the building of our great America, and thus to know the gift of your family heritage. FINAL COLUMN NEXT: Genealogy Website Resource List

Yesterday afternoon as I meandered around our yard, checking the gardens, transplanting new offspring, I see all is growing well. The trees show leaf buds in various stages of growth, and perennial flowers and bushes are growing nicely with more daffodils this year than usual it seems! The snow with bitter cold winds and temps in the high 20s a week ago left little lasting damage, even to the fragile bleeding hearts. I gaze in awe at the beauty of creation on full display all around us. While contemplating, it becomes clear that this world and we within it are amazingly and uniquely created. The sun rises in a brilliant display as its rays peak over the horizon, and later that same golden globe slowly disappears on the opposite horizon in a different, but no less dazzling display as the shadows deepen. Then, as the velvet of night envelopes us, to gaze upward at a sky filled with twinkling diamonds while the moon reflects a small fraction of the sun’s radiance is simply heavenly. But, to know there are more planets and solar systems beyond ours, with more galaxies and individual stars, each established within a specific order, is just too much for my simple mind to comprehend. I enjoyed hunting as a teen, with my Dad and on my own. But, when I shot my first (and only) squirrel, I cried so hard I could barely see to find him on the ground when he fell out of the tree. After I skinned him, my Mom cooked him up so deliciously. I did not hunt after I married for the simple reason that my husband was not fond of game, and I don’t believe in mindlessly killing an animal. But what I enjoyed even more than the hunt was to simply be outside in the fields and woods, even in the deep snow… which led me to share nature walks with our kids, hoping they’d enjoy all of nature in its quiet solitude as much as I do. Except, I really wasn’t alone… For there all around me were hills covered in various types of underbrush and trees from delicate ferns and flowered weeds to the tallest trees and evergreens. On stepping inside the shadows of the woods on my cousin Howard’s farm in Nichols, there were deer as curious about me as I was of them. And, no, I did not bring one home; I missed every time - learning years later from my brothers that they had figured out the old shotgun’s sights were not aligned correctly! There was a fox trotting along casually, steering clear of that upright stranger invading its territory. Rabbits were quietly darting and zipping along to hidden homes within the hedgerows, squirrels were chattering, and birds were singing their hearts out to share their joy of a new day. I have enjoyed the seasonal view from my kitchen windows, especially as tom turkeys would strut and display their colorful feathers while the hens strolled and pecked and scratched around the field at the base of the hill behind us, or as an eagle perched on the branches of a dying maple along the creek’s edge. When we farmed the property, I enjoyed watching the cows and calves go out to pasture, especially on their first spring outing as they ran and jumped with joie de vivre! And, not long after we moved into our newly-built house in 1982, I saw a black bear lumbering away from the electric fence back to the sheltering protection of that forested hill. I’ve watched the blue and green herons in the creek below us, and the ducks, geese and mergansers paddling around as they stopped for a swim on their migration route. I’ve seen and heard thousands of snow geese many years ago when they landed in the harvested corn field across the road from us – what a joyous honking they made! And, I’ve enjoyed the wide variety of birds within my own back yard along with seasonal migratory birds that stopped in for a bite to eat at my feeders, a drink of fresh water, and a brief rest. And then it’s another treat as newly-fledged nestlings are brought to the feeders. It’s exciting to watch and listen to the youngsters as they wait for mom or dad to feed them, sometimes not too patiently! Farther beyond our town, I have waded into the cold waters of both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans – and watched the beauty of waves as they form and roll inward to break along the shore, lapping at the sand, retreating to whence they came – and appreciated and felt the power of those waves and their undertow, an even more dangerous force when whipped into a fury by stormy winds. I discovered the fun in picking up the variety of shells poking out of the beach sand and admired their stunning colors and differences in shapes and designs. I have flown above the clouds, gazing down at the puffy layers of cotton strewn below. But, mostly I’ve gazed upward from this terra firma to appreciate the many types of summer clouds scattered in a sky of purest blue with clouds that form shapes of animals and more, clouds that look like wispy mares’ tails, clouds of purest white with just a hint of gray, towering clouds with dark shades of gray and black in their underbellies warning of a storm about to break, clouds with rays of sun streaming outward from behind them and through them, clouds which form a solid sheet to shield the blue sky from view, clouds with a corrugated appearance, and clouds which form as jets leave their trails behind. I have stood in awe at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and been amazed at the view beyond each twist and turn of the road as my daughter drove with me along for the ride, only to be in awe at an even more beautiful vista than the one from the turn before. I have gazed upward in awe at the rocky sheers from the floor of a narrow canyon, the outer western extent of Arizona’s Grand Canyon. I have admired alpine grassy meadows with mountain peaks jutting precipitously upward as they break the smooth, green, valley-like floor high up along the Continental Divide. I have stood in awe and gazed at endless beauty from the ranger station atop the Glacier Mountains in Montana. My daughter, Emily, and I had driven upward on the Going to the Sun Road from the valley floor below with its lake and streams and waterfalls amid the forested hills with unbelievable vistas opening anew at every turn of the road. I saw a mountain goat resting on the bare rocks of a precipitous mountain ridge, so close I could have reached out the car’s window to touch him. I have admired the high rocky peaks still beautifully snow covered in early August. I gazed at a hill once covered by thick forest before a fire consumed its vegetation, but which now reveals vibrant new verdant undergrowth of plants, bushes and young trees, the promised renewal in a never-ending cycle of life and death and rebirth. And, I stared in wonder at the Dakota “badlands,” the many colors of rocky slopes, and at the endless sea of flat prairie grassland and cropland. I am awed by the development of life, whether it be that of our children or of plants and animals. I am amazed at how life is formed from unseen cells as the tiniest and finest features develop into the minute intricacy of the nerves in our brain which serve every function of our body. I am in awe of how delicately we are created, from eyes which see to brains which think in complexities. I am amazed at our ability to view new life forming via the technology of sonograms. I do not, even for a second, give credence to the postulation of evolution. I do not believe that from some “big bang” our lives with our fine and complex unique inner structures slowly and gradually evolved over millions or billions of years, or that we then somehow broke off from some lost link into a new line descending from apes. Instead, I stand amazed at our great God of the universe who created each of us to be the unique beings we are. From the growth and development of those tiny cells as our life begins, to birth, toddlerhood, adolescence, and on into adulthood, He knows us intimately. He’s numbered the hairs on our head, and is there to care for us at each step of our path. “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 139:13-16) I am awed as I ponder each beautiful tiny snowflake. The unique design within the structure of each and every single snowflake that has ever fluttered down from the sky is truly amazing. Like our individual and unique DNA patterns, no two snowflakes are alike…ever… from the beginning of time and on into the future. I stand amazed to watch earth’s transformation from winter’s dreariness into the beauty of spring as new life emerges. I marvel at the progression of spring’s beauty rolling into summer’s bounty before sliding into the brilliant colors of fall, and then stand transfixed as winter’s first snowfall descends to blanket our earth in pure white. Once again, I am in awe to realize there are no two leaves, flower buds, plants or trees alike… ever. For they, too, are created unique in their design by their intricate and delicate cell structures. Quietly thinking, I am reminded of God’s questions after being confronted by the suffering Job. Job was brought face to face with a God whose ways and wisdom are beyond our finite comprehension as reflected in His creation. “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? To what were its foundations fastened? Or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? (Job 38:4-7) And so, I stand in awe of a Creator who has designed and formed the vast universe, this earth and all its inhabitants, and so much more. Sometimes I think He had an absolutely grand time creating this world with a wonderful sense of humor - for the variety of animals and plant life, their shapes and colors, each uniquely speaking of the vastness and limitless of His power, glory and love. And with all of this in mind, I bow my head in awe at how He created and knit us together in our mother’s womb, each with our individual uniqueness and idiosyncrasies, gifts and skills. What an awesome God we serve! Creation’s Glory Linda A. Roorda I gaze around at nature’s splendor And cannot miss the beauty displayed From universe large to tiniest cell Designed with love that we might enjoy. Come sit with me and take it all in As just above trees light pierces the dark While breaking of dawn disperses the night And morning awakes, in bright vivid shades. How could the earth, the planets and sun Know where to ride their orbits precise? For if they move a fraction aside Chaos erupts, destruction ensues. Vast is the world and universe deep With fragile life and delicate cell Order precise, especially planned By One who knows all future and past. Majestic peaks their beauty display In granite sheer and towering summit Over valley floor with meadow calm And flowing rivers by trees standing tall. A cell divides, the journey begins Its code ordained, embedded within And as it grows unique in design Soon shall emerge, the miracle of life. A bud that grows will open in time From something plain to grandly transformed Dazzling beauty with colorful hues Each petal soft in splendor arrayed. Birds on the wing, a marvel of grace Delicate form yet strength beyond ken. They do not fret, no worry they keep For God doth hold the key to their ways. Fluttering leaves swaying in the breeze With tender veins and edges serrated Each leaf unique in color and shape Intricate plan, intention divine. Tiniest flakes among a zillion Descend arrayed with no two the same Delicate form, beauty artistic He alone framed their structured design. As daylight fades and night settles down In twinkling stars and moon rising bright Order displayed with balance supreme Your hands made all with forethought and plan. For Thou alone in glory arrayed The great I Am, forever Thou art ‘Twas Your pleasure this world to create As praises we bring to honor Your name. ~~

Thanks, and glad to hear your vaccine went well, Hal, and that you liked Guthrie's setup too! Yes, they were very friendly, helpful, etc. And I can totally understand Ann's indecision on getting the vaccine. Been there - but subbing in the school system, I can't take a chance on getting covid, spreading it, or giving it to Ed for whom it would be deadly. We got our 2nd Pfizer shot at Guthrie's K-Mart setup this past Wed, with NO side effects other than a minor sore arm and perhaps some mild diffuse body aches.

Hope your 2nd one goes well with no side effects Hal! Our 2nd will be Wed afternoon. All our best to Ann in getting hers too 🙂

Thank you so much, Ann 🙂

We've not been big fans of the vaccines, but believe we needed to do this. Yes, we're getting our vaccines "across the border" with Guthrie because with our, especially my husband's multiple co-morbid health conditions, Guthrie's Covid Vaccine Clinic at the former K-Mart has a better situation than what I've seen at a minimally staffed typical pharmacy, or perhaps a health department clinic. Guthrie's vaccine clinic was fully staffed by all medical personnel with an ambulance parked outside just in case - exactly what we needed. Second vaccine coming up this week for both of us.

I'm sharing something a little different today. Yesterday would have been our Jenn’s 43rd birthday, now celebrated in her heavenly home. As family and friends, we never forget a loved one who has left us, especially sooner than we expect. Yet, we can remember and celebrate their life with joy as a blessing from God. Today, rather than a poetry reflection, I’d like to share memories in Jenn’s own words from psychology class at Houghton College. It gave me insight into her thoughts, experiences, understanding of her family, and thoughts on her future. This is what I longed for after she died – something in her own writing, her perceptive memories, providing a window into the heart and soul of who she had become. With a double major of elementary education and psychology at Houghton College, she earned her Master’s degree as a School Psychologist from Alfred University a month before she left this world the end of June 2003 at age 25. I found comfort and peace in writing about her life that summer and fall, a healing catharsis, and appreciated reading her college papers, like the one below, and learning more about who she was as a young adult. May you be blessed in your own memories of loved ones who have left this world before "their time." UNIT ONE: Childhood Recollections and Experiences: Jenn drew a floor plan of our house, and was asked to “sit quietly and try to recapture the sights and sounds and smells of each room,” and “the experiences and feelings [she] associated with each.” A – Who lived in this house with you? When we first moved into this house, my family consisted of my mom, dad, sister & myself. However, the house was built while my mom was pregnant w/ my little brother. He joined our family two months after we moved into this house. B – What was your favorite place? Why? My favorite place was the basement because a section of it was set up as a playroom. I spent hrs. playing here w/ my sister & brother. C – Where were your secret places? I don’t remember having any secret places. Mom kept pretty good track of me & my siblings. D – What room or area of the house do you remember as the most unpleasant or uncomfortable for you? Why? I didn’t like having to go to the basement at night when it was dark. I wouldn’t leave the safety of the stairs until I had turned on the lights. I disliked having to retrieve something from the garage the most. This was because it was dark, damp, cold & quite (sic, quiet). I was afraid something would get me when I opened the door. I also remember us having a slight problem w/ a mouse in the basement when we first moved in. That may have contributed to [my] fear. E – What was the prevailing atmosphere or mood in your house? Before I was nine, I remember the mood being fairly cheerful. Afterwards, the atmosphere was filled with some tension, worry, & yet also a lot love & caring. F – What was your most significant experience during the time you lived in this house? How was this experience significant? When I was in 2nd grade, my grandparents had to sell the family farm b/c my dad could no longer help his father. My dad’s eyesight was deteriorating. Over the years. he continued to lose what little sight he had & he eventually was declared blind. This experience put a lot of stress on my family, especially my parents’ marriage. But our faith in God held us together & pulled us through this difficult time. As a family unit, we are much closer now. Family is very important to me. I learned important lessons about being supportive to others & persevering through hard times. I also had to mature quicker as the oldest child & take responsibility for my sister & brother. Note: My dad now works as a customer service manager for a local company. G. Think about your early experiences with your family at mealtime. Family mealtime (supper) was my favorite part of the day. We would all get a chance to discuss our day of school or work, sharing disappointments, as well as exciting news. It was also a time filled w/ humor & laughter. My Dad, sister, & brother were gifted w/ a sense of humor, & always had my mom & [me] laughing so hard it hurt! I know we also had conflict w/ one another at the table, but all the good experiences dominate my memory overwhelmingly. After eating we almost always had family devotions. These have changed as my siblings & I have grown up. First my parents read Bible stories to us. Then once we learned to read, we all took turns reading the stories. Now we read the “Daily Bread” booklet. These experiences really pulled us together. I believe this is one activity that helped us through my dad’s blindness. I will forever be thankful for these good times &hope to continue the tradition when I marry & have children. I have learned how much I value my family. They are so important to me. They are my support, my source of encouragement & of love. The exercise on mealtime was the most valuable exercise as it made clear the importance I place on family. UNIT THREE: Alfred Adler and Individual Psychology: I - Early Recollections: “To understand a man we must know his memories.” --Ancient Chinese Proverb A. Beginning with your first recollection, identify your earliest specific memories. 1 – My earliest memories begin in the trailer my family lived in from the time I was born until I was 4. I remember that when I was about 2-1/2, I would crawl into my sister’s crib in the morning. I was really proud of my baby sister. I liked talking to her & playing w/ stuffed animals with her until mom got us up. 2 – Another memory from the trailer that I have is when my family got a dishwasher. However, my sister & I were more interested in the box that it came in than the dishwasher itself. My mom put the box in the backroom & my sister & I would often play in it. Our favorite game was to put a larger than normal beanbag on a small cart that some wooden letter blocks normally set on & place that cart on top of the box. Then we would crawl inside and shake the box until the cart fell off. Then we would repeat the process. It was simple but great fun. 3 – I remember moving in August from our trailer into our newly built house. I remember going from room to room, checking everything out. The coolest part was the stairs. For some reason my sister & I were absolutely fascinated by them. Once we were fully moved in, we would pretend to have picnics on them. Once again, it was simple but great fun. 4 – In October, my brother was born. I don’t remember a whole lot about this. However, I do remember my dad dropping my sister & [me] off at my aunt’s house and picking us up at night for about 2 days or so. I remember being excited about getting a new brother, but I also missed my mom & couldn’t wait for her to come home to play & read books again. 5 – I remember going to the family farm & spending time in the barn w/ my dad & my grandfather. I liked to sit on top of the feed cart w/ my own little scoop so I could “help” feed the cows. I also liked playing w/ the barn cats, & mixing up the formula for the calves. I felt grown up when my dad would let me carry the flashlight as we walked home at night or allow me to help carry the milk pail. I also liked riding on the tractors w/ my dad. The only bad experience that I remember from the barn was a time that I was following my dad & was running to keep up. I cut a corner too tight & ended up face down in the gutter of manure. My dad picked me up and carried me home so mom could clean me off. II. Reflect upon your early memories. My memories seem to be focused on experiences primarily w/ my sister (i.e. memories 1-3). We did everything together as kids & even today I feel close to her. I am also close to my brother. Overall, I think my memories reveal my strong attachment to family. My memories reveal a happy environment in which I received love & had enjoyable times. My family is very close-knit. I think this has helped us in our times of trouble, b/c we knew we could lean on one another. As for explaining my present personality, I think the closeness & the trust that I built w/ my sister & my family as a whole has led to my tendency to trust others. I also think the pride I mention in memories about my siblings reveals my tendency to act “motherish” at times, specifically w/ my siblings. My early experiences in the barn represent an early introduction to responsibility & my dedication to getting a job done on time. B. Inferiority Feelings: Adler believed inferiority feelings form the basis for all human motivation and striving. Once my sister & I were both in school, I began to have feelings of inferiority. She always wanted to do what I could do, and once she learned it, she often performed better than I did. I felt threatened; as the oldest child, I wanted to maintain my “superior” position. I didn’t have an inferior organ, nor did anyone receive excessive indulgence & pampering, & I wasn’t rejected or neglected by anyone. My parents consistently worked to temper any competition, & establish the fact that we each have our own individual qualities & strengths. E. Style of Life: Adler believed basic life-style patterns and structures of personality are established early in life… I value friendship. I think it may come from the close companionship that developed b/t my sister & I as children. I also don’t like conflict. My mom deterred my siblings & I from fighting. I remember having to sit on the couch & hold hands for several minutes after having arguments w/ them. I also didn’t like seeing my parents fight during a stressful time in our home & try to steer away from it myself. I’ve also been a very quiet & compliant child. I allow other people to dominate conversation & I go along w/ the majority consensus – typically. There are of course exceptions. I think I am a combination of the avoiding type and the socially useful type. I like to avoid conflict. I know how to get around issues & how to choose my words wisely to keep from causing a problem. However, when a problem does arise that requires attention, I do face reality & attempt to solve it. I also admit that I am shy & do not talk a lot. But, those people who know me well, realize I am very interested in social activity. I care about others and wish to help them out as needed. I also enjoy being involved in committees and other extra-curricular activities. I was quite involved while in high school. However, since entering college, I have found myself having to concentrate more time on studies & have not been able to do a lot of other things. G. What are some of the important things you have learned about yourself? This entire unit on Adler’s theory of personality was very interesting & helped me learn a lot about myself. I discovered how oriented I am around achieving excellence & wanting to be the best I can be in all areas of life. Working with children also seems to be a highly important thing for me. I have a genuine concern for children who don’t have the same opportunities to succeed that I had. UNIT SIX: Psychosocial Theory: 1.a. Think back to your early years in school. Was this a discouraging time for you, or were you able to achieve success in learning and developing the skills necessary? I don’t remember a concentrated time of frustration although I did struggle with learning some things as any child does. For example, in 1st grade I had a hard time learning to read. With extra help from my parents at home, I soon caught on & excelled. However, I had already been molded into a stereotype at school and could not move out of the lower reading groups because of it. So my parents stimulated my reading interests at home. I think their efforts kept me from giving up. In other subjects I tended to succeed & overall I enjoyed school. 1b. My parents helped me a great deal with reading & I grew to enjoy it & excel at it. I also remember participating in 4H. A neighbor lady held meetings in her home once a week. I enjoyed this & did well at cooking contests. 2. In efforts to establish a stable ego identity, has your quest for an occupational identity been a major concern? Maybe, to a certain extent. I know that I want to work with children in some way, shape or form. But I haven’t been able to fully identify what it is I want to do. I have thought about teaching elementary school and thus, I am an El. Ed. major. I also have considered some kind of counseling, or maybe even a school psychologist. Thus I am also a double major in psychology. I am slightly confused about which way to turn, but I haven’t totally panicked yet. But my identity has not been solely based on my future occupation. There is more to who I am than the job will hold after school. I trust God in that area of my life and have tried to develop my other characteristics. 3. We are living in a time of changing sex roles and patterns, and there is much sex-role confusion in our society. Have these social changes contributed to your personal difficulties in achieving a stable ego identity? No, this has not influenced me at all. I come from a “non-traditional” home in some sense, because my dad is blind and I’m used to him being a house-husband. He, of course, does have a regular job now, but he continues to help my mom out with laundry and grocery lists and cooking, etc. I believe both males and females can share in household duties. I also see nothing wrong with a woman choosing to be a housewife. If I ever have children, it is in fact my desire to stay home to simply be a mom and a wife. As far as occupations go, I think each person should do something that will best use their skills and talents and will make them happy. I, however, am against any legislation that will make it mandatory for men and women to be absolutely equal. 5. Discuss the strengths you have developed and the tasks yet to be completed. I think I have established a stable ego identity. The values I have formed are ones I hold to quite strictly. I am capable of handling responsibility given to me by others. I have set goals for myself and am considering various options for my future beyond Houghton. I know I am shy, yet able to voice my opinion when necessary. I have established preferences for what I like to do in my free time, food I like to eat, etc. I generally know who I am and am satisfied with the roles that I play in the relationships I have with family, friends, etc. 6. Am I strong enough in my identity to fuse myself with another without fear of losing my own identity, autonomy, and integrity? I think I am ready and have been ready to be in a close relationship with another person. I know who I am as a person. I have confidence in my special skills and abilities and I am able to respect others for who they are and am willing to help as needed. I began my first ever relationship almost exactly a year ago. It has been a very healthy and satisfying relationship. We get along very well. We are both mature individuals and are able to discuss our differences (when they occur) in an appropriate manner. We have also had to deal with our relationship being long distance. We have very open communication lines with a “no secrets” policy. We also allow each other to continue the development of our varying interests. We are both interested in learning about what the other person does or likes. Lastly, we build each other up and encourage one another in our individual pursuits. We complement each other well and I am grateful for him being a part of my life. 7. How are your mother and father each expressing and developing ego maturity through generativity? I remember when I first left home to come to Houghton and the difficulty my mom had with “losing” her first born. She cried a bit. However, it has gradually gotten easier. She recently made a comment that she and my dad will like having the house to themselves after having a weekend of no kids. I had to smile. My mom is also becoming engrossed in a genealogy project of my dad’s family and would like to do one of her own family. It’s a little harder for my dad since he’s blind. He can’t just choose to do something. He doesn’t appear to be bothered, but I can’t really judge for sure. F. Old age – integrity versus despair with old age, the final psychosocial stage of ego development and maturity. (Note: I am talking about my dad’s parents since I see them more often.) I think my grandparents are developing integrity as they are now in the final stage of ego affirmation. They are both still very much in love with each other. They also have an excellent sense of humor. Laughter can be expected when we visit them. I also enjoy hearing about the past – including experiences that were good and others that were bad. No matter how a situation turned out, they’ve accepted it and have moved on with life. They are also very willing to help others and to give advice. Before my sister and I got a car this semester, my grandparents helped my mom with the task of driving us back to Houghton after breaks. They do, of course, have problems, but generally I think they are quite well adjusted into their last stage of development. G. Summary - What are some of the important things you have learned about yourself after doing these exercises? I have learned that the environment my parents provided me as a child and as a teen has facilitated a healthy outcome at all of Erikson’s stages. I also think my faith in God has been an asset in my development. It helps with things like careers to know that God is in control and He will guide you. He has been a source of strength through all sort of problems and trials, and a blessing in times of happiness. In addition, I’ve learned how important healthy relationships with others are in developing yourself. The entire unit was quite informative and I found it interesting to reflect on the issues that were raised. Professor: Great – A wonderful job overall! Thanks Jennifer!

Ahhh, spring! My favorite season! And isn’t it beginning to look beautiful outdoors? I love to see the signs of new life emerging slowly, almost imperceptibly, after earth’s long wintry sleep. To smell the fresh earthy aroma that follows a gentle spring rain is refreshing, to see the grass almost immediately turning from shades of crisp tan and brown to verdant greens, and to watch the daintiest leaf or flower bud begin to emerge brings joy to my heart. With a bright sun’s nourishing warmth, those leaf buds soon swell and burst open, bringing many more shades of green to life. Then, as flowers burst open to brighten the landscape, it’s as though all of creation rejoices with an endless bounty of color. “For behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” (Song of Solomon 2:11-12) I’ve often thought about the joy and pleasure it must have given our God as He created every aspect of this world, every plant and creature… each uniquely designed! After His work of creating separate aspects of this world each day of the week, “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good.” (Genesis 1:31 NIV) Wouldn’t it have been wonderful to have been a witness as this marvelous creation came to be? I’ve also imagined that the first week of creation was spring with vivid colors bursting forth in blooms from every kind of plant and flower imaginable! When God created man and woman in His image to tend and care for the beautiful Garden of Eden, ultimately to be caretakers of the new world at large… they were each uniquely created and loved by God… just as we are in our own time. And to know that all this beauty was created for our pleasure, to treasure and nourish… what an awesome responsibility and beautiful gift we were given! Enjoy the beauty of spring in all its glory as it bursts forth anew to revive and color our every-day world with exhilarating joy! Colors of Spring Linda A. Roorda From brilliant yellow of forsythia arched To burgundy red on trees standing tall The colors of spring emerge in great beauty To brighten our days from winter’s dark sleep. From chartreuse shades as leaf buds burst forth To pink and white flowers in cloud-like halos Hovering on branches in glowing full bloom Swaying above carpets of undulating green. From rich azure sky with puffs of white-gray To pale blue horizon at forested hills With sun-streaked rays like fingers of God To lengthening shadows as light slowly fades. From velvet black night as moon rises full To glittering diamonds twinkling bright Up over hills on a path through the sky Gliding above trees with limbs reaching out. From earth’s colorful palette awakening clear To the crisp and bold and shades of pastels Shimmering and dancing to brighten our day Created by God, our pleasure to behold. Photos by Linda A. Roorda

We previously briefly touched on the importance of your ancestor’s Last Will and Testament, an excellent source of family documentation. Wills are filed at surrogate court or county clerk’s office along with estate records for those who died intestate (without a will), inventories of estates, letters of administration, and guardianships, etc. Some older wills may be found online at Sampubco Wills as posted by W. David Samuelson from whom you may purchase documents. This site includes wills, guardianships, surrogate’s records/probate files, naturalizations, letters of administration, and cemetery listings. Records are available for several states via alphabetical name search by county. From my experience, mostly older wills are available, but not all of them. I can, however, recommend this site as I purchased several ancestral wills more reasonably than from surrogate’s court or county clerk’s office. However, it is still advisable to go to the appropriate office to search for and copy complete records, which I also did. One drawback can be old style writing and language. Having begun my secretarial career in an Owego law firm, researching and copying old deeds and wills in shorthand, I was familiar with most of the standard language. After transcribing eighteenth and nineteenth century ancestral wills I’d purchased, I submitted several online to respective county genweb sites. They provide an opportunity for future researchers to use this gift, a way to pay back the gifts others have freely placed online to aid in research. It’s all about helping each other on the journey. As for the old language of bequeathing one’s estate, I share excerpts in original format from the wills of a few of my ancestors – original spelling or misspelling retained. Henrich/Henry Kniskern, signed 1780, probated 1784: “In the Name of God Amen. I, Henrich Knieskern at Shoharry [Schoharie] in the County of Albany [before Albany became several counties] farmer being at present weak in Body but of Sound Mind and Memory… considering that it is appointed for us all once to Die do this Eight Day of May in the Year of Our Lord Christ One Thousand Seven Hundred and Eighty make and Publish this my Last will and Testament in manner and form following that is to Say I recommend my Soul unto God that gave & my body unto the Earth from whence it came to be decently Interred… I give and bequeath unto my eldest Son… five Pounds Lawful money of New York (I Mean and Understand good hard Silver Money) for his birth Right… it is my will and Ordre that my Wife… shall have her supporting and Maintainment yearly and Every Year for her Life Time of my Estate in Knieskerns Dorph… [Kniskernsdorf is a now-extinct hamlet established on the Schoharie Creek by my ancestor, Johann Peter Kniskern, the Listmaster of one of the original 1710 Palatine settlements on the Hudson River.] …I Give unto my Two Sons… together Equally my farming utenciels and Tools as both or Two Waggons & Two Sleeds Ploughs and Harrows with all the Tackling and furniture thereof… axes hoes & other Implements of husbandry… I Give to my Two Daughters, as bed Goods, Pewter Goods, Iron pots, Cooper goods & other goods… I give to my Two Sons… Equally my Loom and all & Every articles that belongs to Weavers…” Adam Dingman, a prosperous freeholder of Kinderhook and Albany, wrote “...know all men that in the year seventeen hundred and twenty and twenty-one, the twenty-first day of January, in the seventh year of the reign of our sovereign lord, King George, I, Adam Dingeman, born at Haerlem, Holland, sick and weak of body, but having the perfect use of my senses…” Unfortunately, he did not name his children from whom I have proven descendancy. George Hutton, son of Lt. Timothy Hutton, listed all children, with daughters by their married names, a very helpful will. An interesting inventory with values was attached to his wife Elizabeth’s will from 1845. Numerous items were listed, including “1 feather bed $7.25, 1 blue and white spread $4.00, 1 straw bed tick $.25, 1 brown calico dress $.37, 1 black cashmere shall $.75, 1 pr morocco shoes $.50, 1 rocking chair $1.00.” Other wills bequeath hereditaments (one of my favorite words), i.e. land, crops, tools, animals. A McNeill family will “allows” an unmarried sister to use half of the house for life. And an inventory made in 1758 for the estate of John McNeill, an apparently wealthy mariner (father of John C. McNeill), includes “1 Jacket of Cut Vellvet & 1 pair of Black Vallvet Britches, 1 paire of Lether Buckskin Britches, 1 Great Coat of Davinshire Carsey, 1 fine linnin Sheet x3 coarse ones, 1 45 weight of fetther, 1 paire of carved Shew buckells & knee buckells of silver, 1 paire Sleve buttons of gold, 2 Small Bibells w/one Silver clasped, 1 book called fishers Arithmitick, 1 seet of Harrow teeth, 1 Seet of plow Irons.” Old documents do make fascinating reads! COMING NEXT: Genealogy Websites

A Scottish castle on the Hudson? Drawn to the hazy beauty of this photo, I was mesmerized by the castle’s classic lines… so reminiscent of centuries-old castles scattered around the British and Scottish moors and highlands, intrigued to know it sat upon American soil. After researching and naming my Mom’s maternal Scots-Irish, I am proud to say that they, too, hold a special place in my heart amongst all my Dutch ancestors. Photo of Bannerman's Castle by Will Van Dorp, on his blog, Tugster. Think back with me to an earlier day when the adventurous Europeans followed Henry Hudson’s momentous sail north on a river now bearing his name. It was an era of exploration, a prosperous time for the Dutch and their friends as they established a considerable presence in the settling of Nieuw Nederlands… and traveled freely up and down the North River with its invitingly peaceful, and beautiful, sylvan surroundings. Now envision a fairy-tale castle of Scottish design built upon a solid rock foundation, entirely surrounded by a pristine and placid river as its moat. At times though, depending on the season and storm, the waters become riled and treacherous, perhaps evoking images of an ancient castle set upon the lonely and stormy seacoast of bonnie Scotland. Such a sighting embodies the ambiance of castle life in the Middle Ages… a time of chivalry when knights in shining armor went out to battle, bravely protecting their sovereign and his empire, returning home with honor to win the heart of a certain fair young maiden… Roughly 50 miles north of New York City lies an island comprising about 5-1/2 or 6-1/2 acres (depending on source) along the eastern shore of the Hudson River as you head north. Pollepel Island is a lush growth of trees, bushes, flowers and gardens, clamoring vines, weeds, bugs, ticks, snakes, and rocky ground. Not surprisingly, the hardy Dutch left their influence on our language and place names all throughout the new world in both New Amsterdam proper and environs of the greater New Netherlands. Naturally this little island, Pollepel (i.e. Dutch for ladle), was named by these hardy early settlers, situated in an area designated as the “Northern Gate” of the Hudson River’s Highlands. Just like in the Old Country, the island’s natural harbor provides the perfect setting for a castle… Bannerman’s Island Arsenal, to be exact. Arsenal, you ask? Yes, a place where knights could well have donned shining armor for their king and perched behind the battlements with all manner of arms. Long before there was a castle of dreamy old-world architecture, it was said that Native Americans refused to take up residence on this mound of rock. Believing the island to be haunted, the Indians rarely dared set foot upon it in daylight, if at all, while their enemies flaunted that fact by seeking refuge on the rocky shore… The hardy mariners who once sailed Hudson’s North River left a legacy of legends and tales of this little island. Washington Irving of Tarrytown told with skillful imagination the story of “The Storm Ship”, also known as the “Flying Dutchman”. Fear of goblins who dwelt on Pollepel Island was as real as that of their leader, the Heer of Dunderburgh. It was well known that Dunderburgh controlled the winds, those furies which provoked the waters, making safe passage of the Highlands a thing to be envied. With the sinking of the famed “Flying Dutchman” during an especially severe storm, the captain and crew found themselves forever doomed. And, if you should ever find yourself traveling the river near Pollepel in such a storm, listen closely… for in the howling of the winds which whip the sails, you just might hear the captain and his sailors calling for help. Another legend which early Dutch sailors spoke about was that of Polly Pell, a beautiful young lady rescued from the river’s treacherous ice. Romantically saved from drowning by the quick wit and arms of her beau, she married her rescuer. Such are the dreams of the romantically inclined… From a more practical perspective, Gen. George Washington used the strategically placed Pollepel Island during the American Revolution in an effort to prevent British ships from sailing north. “Chevaux de frise” were made of large logs with protruding iron spikes which, when sunk upright in the river, were intended to damage ships’ hulls and stop the British from passing through. However, these particular obstructions, set up between the island and Plum Point on the opposite shore, did not deter the resourceful British. They simply sailed with ease past the sunken deterrents in flat-bottomed boats. Washington also planned to establish a military garrison for prisoners-of-war on Pollepel Island, but there is no proof extant that his idea was ever implemented. According to Jane Bannerman (granddaughter-in-law of the castle’s builder) in “Pollepel - An Island Steeped in History”, the island had just five owners since the American Revolution era: “William Van Wyck of Fishkill, Mary G. Taft of Cornwall, Francis Bannerman VI of Brooklyn, and The Jackson Hole Preserve (Rockefeller Foundation) which donated the island to the people of the State of New York (Hudson Highlands State Park, Taconic Region, New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation).” Francis (Frank) Bannerman VI, the island’s third owner, was born March 24, 1851 in Dundee, Scotland. His ancestor was the first to bear the honored name of Bannerman seven centuries ago. At Bannockburn in 1314, Stirling Castle was held by the English King, Edward II. Besieged by the Scottish army, however, Edward II’s well-trained troops were ultimately defeated in a brutal battle. Less than half the size of England’s army, the successful brave Scotsmen were commanded by the formidable Robert the Bruce, King of Scots. During that battle, Francis VI’s ancestor rescued their Clan Macdonald’s pennant from destruction. In reward, Robert the Bruce is said to have torn a streamer from the Royal ensign and bestowed upon Francis’s ancestor the honor of “bannerman,” the auspicious beginning of the family name. Fast forward a few centuries and, interestingly, we learn that two years after the February 8, 1690 Schenectady (New York) massacre by the French and Indians, there was a similar massacre in Scotland. Barely escaping the Feb 13, 1692 massacre of the Clan Macdonald at Glencoe in the Scottish Highlands by the Campbells, , Francis Bannerman I and others sailed to Ireland. With the family settling in Antrim for the next 150 years or so, it was not until 1845 that Francis Bannerman V returned his branch of the family’s presence to Dundee, Scotland. There, Francis VI was born into this distinguished family. When but a lad of 3 years, his father brought the family across the pond to America’s shores in 1854. Settling in Brooklyn by 1856, the Bannerman family has remained with a well-respected presence. Francis V earned a living by reselling items in the Brooklyn Navy Yard which he’d obtained cheaply at auctions. A few years later, on joining the Union efforts in the Civil War, his 10-year-old son, Francis VI, left school to help support the family. Searching for scrap items after his hours in a lawyer’s office, young Frank VI also sold newspapers to mariners on ships docked nearby. In the evenings, he trolled or dragged local rivers and searched the streets and alleys, ever on the lookout for profitable scrap items, chains, and other odds and ends, even sections of rope, all eagerly bought by local junkmen. Returning from war an injured man, Francis V saw how successful his son had become with his scrap business. By realizing that items he sold held more value than ordinary junk, young Frank had made good money. To handle the growing accumulations of items his son had collected, and the military surplus purchased in 1865 at the close of the Civil War, Bannerman’s storehouse was set up on Little Street. Next, a ship-chandlery shop was established on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Returning to school with his father at home, young Francis received a scholarship to Cornell University. However, owing to his father’s disability, family loyalty won out and he declined to pursue the halls of higher education in order to help run the family business. In 1872, 21-year-old Francis VI took a business trip to Europe. Visiting his grandmother in Ulster, Ireland, he met Helen Boyce whom he married June 8, 1872 in Ballymena. Two of their sons, Francis VII and David Boyce, eventually joined their father in the family business. A third son, Walter Bruce, took a different path by earning his medical degree. Sadly, their only daughter died as an infant. Charles, grandson of Francis VI, married Jane Campbell, a descendant of the ancient Campbells who had attempted to destroy the Macdonald clan (from which massacre Francis I had escaped). Their marriage showed love was the impetus to rise above the ancient rivalry between the families, reminiscent of the Appalachian’s storied Hatfields and McCoys. Considered the “Father of the Army-Navy Store”, Frank Bannerman VI opened a huge block-long store on Broadway by 1897. Here, his large building of several floors housed untold numbers of military supplies, munitions and uniforms from all around the world. Francis/Frank was the go-to man in equipping soldiers for the Spanish-American War. At that war’s end, the company bought arms from the Spanish government and most of the weapons which the American military had captured from the Spanish. Printing a 300-400 page mail order catalog from the late 19th century through the mid-1960s, collectors found a large array of military surplus and antiquities. As city laws limited Bannerman’s ability to retain his massive holdings within the city proper, a larger facility was sought to store their collection of munitions. As he relaxed by canoeing the Hudson River around this time, David Bannerman observed an inconspicuous little island. Finding Pollepel Island perfectly suited to their needs, his father, Frank VI, approached the Taft family and purchased the island in 1900. Designing a Scottish-style castle to honor the family’s legacy, they built an arsenal to store their vast munitions supplies, with a smaller castle providing a family residence. On the side of the castle facing the Hudson River, “Bannerman’s Island Arsenal” is embedded in the castle façade, clearly informing all passersby of its purpose to this day. As the largest collector of munitions in the world, buying and selling to many nations, including Japan during the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-1905, and to private citizens like you and me, even Buffalo Bill Cody, military memorabilia collectors, theatrical establishments, and artists needing props, Mr. Francis Bannerman VI held an in-depth knowledge of the military supplies and ordnance in his possession. But, not being a man of greed, he refused to arm revolutionaries and returned their money on learning their intention. At the opening of World War I, he reportedly shipped 8,000 saddles to the French Army and delivered thousands of rifles and ammunition to the British at no cost. Though extremely successful selling munitions, Francis/Frank Bannerman VI considered himself a kind and generous man, “a man of peace”. It was his intention that such a vast collection of arms as his would eventually be considered “The Museum of the Lost Arts.” Energetic and devoted to his church and public service, he also taught a boys’ Sunday School class. He enjoyed bringing friends to the island to experience his family’s hospitality. His wife, Helen, who loved to garden, had paths and terraces constructed throughout the property. Even today, tour guides point out the many flowers and shrubs she planted which have survived the decades, the beauty of which enhance the antiquity of the castle ruins. With the death of Francis Bannerman VI on November 26, 1918 at age 64, building on the island stopped and many setbacks seemed to befall his estate. Two years later, an explosion of 200 tons of stored shells and powder destroyed part of the castle. With State and federal laws controlling the sale of munitions to civilians, sales began to plunge for Bannerman’s Arsenal. Family continued to reside in the smaller castle on the island into the 1930s; but, for the sake of their customers, sold their goods more conveniently from a warehouse in Blue Point, Long Island into the 1970s. In 1950, a pall fell over the island and its castle when the ferry “Pollepel” (named for the island it served) sank in a storm. Then, when the island’s caretaker retired in 1957, Bannerman’s island remained abandoned and untended for years. Frank VI’s grandson, Charles, wisely predicted in 1962 that “No one can tell what associations and incidents will involve the island in the future. Time, the elements, and maybe even the goblins of the island will take their toll of some of the turrets and towers, and perhaps eventually the castle itself, but the little island will always have its place in history and in legend and will be forever a jewel in its Hudson Highland setting.” Ultimately, New York State bought the island and its buildings in 1967 after all military supplies had been removed, and tours of the island and castle commenced in 1968. Unfortunately, a devasting fire on August 8, 1969 destroyed the Arsenal along with its walls, floors and roofs making the island unsafe, and it was closed to the public. Though the castle now sits in ruins, much of the exterior walls are still standing, accented with climbing ivy, and held up in the weakest sections by supports. Since virtually all interior floors and walls were destroyed by fire, “vandalism, trespass, neglect and decay” have continued taking their toll over the decades. In more recent years, the island once again made headlines with a tragic story. On April 19, 2015, Angelika Graswald and her fiancée, Vincent Viafore, kayaked to Bannerman’s Castle Island. Attempting to return from their outing in rough waters, Viafore’s kayak took on water and overturned, resulting in his drowning. Graswald, charged with Viafore’s murder, admitted to removing the drain plug. Arraigned in Goshen, Orange County, NY, a plea deal was later reached before the case went to trial. Pleading guilty to a lesser charge of criminally negligent homicide, she was released from prison not long after, having duly served the time of her reduced sentence. Few people know and remember “Bannerman’s Island” during its glorious past like Jane Bannerman (wife of Charles, Francis VI’s grandson). Assisting The Bannerman’s Castle Trust and the Taconic Park Commission to repair the buildings, Jane has noted, “…it all comes down to money, and if they don’t hurry up, it’ll all fall down. Every winter brings more destruction.” Unsafe conditions on and around the island are due to both underwater and land hazards, not to mention unstable castle walls. Due to these conditions, it is advised you do not attempt to visit the island on your own. The Bannerman’s Castle Trust has initiated “hard hat” tours along with other entertainment venues. By making island visits possible, it is the Trust’s hope they will be able to restore the castle, smaller castle home, and gardens for the public to enjoy more fully. In the interest of preserving the rich history of this Scottish Castle on a small island in the Hudson River, we hope The Bannermans’ Castle Trust is successful in its restoration endeavors. Hudson River Cruises advertise a tour from Newburgh Landing: “Ruins of a 19th century castle on Bannerman’s Island can be seen on special guided history and walking tours departing from Newburgh Landing and Beacon.” For information on 2-1/2 hour guided tours held May through October call: 845-220-2120 or 845-782-0685. With my own maternal Scots-Irish McNeill and Caldwell heritage (the Irish only because they settled in the northern Protestant section of Ireland), I was intrigued by the photos of such an old-world castle built on a small, seemingly insignificant island. The fairy-tale ambiance of this Scottish castle stands out, visible by boat and train, amidst the New Netherlands’ Dutch influence up and down the Hudson River. I hope someday to take a guided tour on Pollepel Island and see Bannerman’s Castle; but, for now, the photos and articles will have to do. Many thanks to Will Van Dorp, a family friend from childhood, who initially piqued my interest by posting his photos and synopsis of the island, castle, and its environs on his blog, Tugster. See Hudson Downbound 18b, April 12, 2018 - and scroll down to photo of Bannerman’s Castle prompting my story.

Anything but a boring read, military records are another invaluable source of documentation. The first step is to determine when and where your ancestor served. Often clues to an ancestor’s military service are found in family stories, old photos, death records and obituaries, grave markers and/or cemetery records, local town histories, and other family records or correspondence. Many military records are available at Ancestry.com. You will find draft registration cards for WW I and WW II, enlistment and service records, soldier and prisoner lists, casualty lists, pension records, etc. In searching Ancestry’s records for this article, I found the Revolutionary War pension application file for my ancestor, John C. McNeill. I had purchased the complete file several years ago through the national archives at NARA.gov. So much more data has been placed online at repositories like Ancestry.com than was available when I began researching in the late 1990s. When you search for records at the website for National Archives, click on the Veterans’ Service Records section to begin. You will find military service records, pension records of veterans’ claims, draft registration records, and bounty land warrant application files and records available. I found the WWII enlistment records at both Ancestry and NARA websites for two of my paternal grandfather’s brothers. They had served in Europe and the South Pacific. NARA’s website allows you to download free forms in order to purchase the full military records which may not be available elsewhere. Military records can provide a good deal of genealogical and historical data about an ancestor. The various records may include date of birth, birthplace, age, date of enlistment, occupation, names of immediate family members, and service records listing battles fought, capture, discharge, death, etc. However, bear in mind that military records may not include all data you seek. My John C. McNeill did not note a date of birth or age in his Revolutionary War pension application affidavit, and stated only that he had “nine children…5 sons and 4 daughters”, without listing any of their names. Talk about frustration! However, Jesse McNeill, my ancestor, verified in his signed affidavit that he was a son of John and that was key evidence. Thankfully, John’s wife, Hannah, noted their marriage date, town, name of the Justice of the Peace who married them, and her sister’s name in her affidavit when applying for her widow’s pension. With military records, you can take a little data and round it out with further research. My John C. McNeill answered the call of fellow patriots to serve with the New Hampshire Line at Bunker Hill (aka Breed’s Hill) in June 1775. He was a Sergeant under Captain Daniel Wilkins in Colonel Timothy Bedel’s regiment of rangers, in charge of pasturing cattle to feed the men. In 1776, Bedel’s regiment was ordered to join the Northern Continental Army in New York to reinforce the military presence in Canada. McNeill’s pension file affidavits note capture at The Cedars, a fort west of Montreal on the St. Lawrence River, where they were plundered of all possessions. They were taken to an island and left naked, without shelter and scant rations for eight days. At The Cedars, “Bedel left the fort, either [to]… seek reinforcements or convey intelligence. The command devolved on Major Isaac Butterfield… who on the 19th of May [1776] disgracefully surrendered his force of about four hundred men to the British and Indians [who were] about five hundred in number.” (History of Goffstown [N.H.] by George Plumer Hadley, page 124.) Morris Commager’s “The Spirit of Seventy-Six” (pgs. 212-220) provides further corroboration of this capture with many injured, killed, taken prisoner, or dying of disease. McNeill was among survivors exchanged and returned in a cartel between the British Captain George Foster and American Brigadier General Benedict Arnold. McNeill then served out his military enlistment at Saratoga, NY. McNeill’s cousin and friends sign an affidavit in his pension application file stating they survived the ordeal with him, celebrating their release annually thereafter. Another excellent source, a great read which confirmed the information I had on Bedel’s New York Regiment, is found in “Benedict Arnold’s Navy: The Ragtag Fleet that lost the Battle of Lake Champlain but Won the American Revolution” by James Nelson, 2006, The McGraw-Hill Companies. I further assume that, having served in New York for a time, McNeill later sought fertile land in what historians call the “Breadbasket of the American Revolution” – Schoharie County, New York. After settling in my mother’s home town of Carlisle, Schoharie County, New York in the mid-1790s, one of his neighbors, and likely good friend, was Thomas Machin, whose farmland I have seen on a side road just into Montgomery County and very near Schoharie County. Maybe you don't know the significance of Thomas Machin who “supervised the making and laying of The Great Chain across the Hudson River near West Point.” “W. Thomas Machin, Engineer, Washington’s Staff, Founding Father of Masonry in Schoharie County…Member Boston Tea Party; 1744-1816.” (Personal view of two New York State plaques commemorating Machin at Carlisle Rural Cemetery, Carlisle, Schoharie County, NY, just a short distance up Cemetery Road from the farm fronting Rt. 20 on which my mother grew up.) However, Machin was not likely to have been part of the Boston Tea Party per my additional research. Living in close proximity to each other, I am sure there must have been a good friendship between the two military men and their families – Machin’s grandson, James Daniel Machin, married John C. McNeill’s granddaughter, Lucy Jane/Jeanette McNeill, in 1852. There is so much to be gleaned from in-depth research of ancestors, learning about their lives, extended family, and the historical era in which they lived! COMING NEXT: #10 - Last Will and Testament…

Oh, that we lived in a perfect world! … but we don’t. Not everything goes our way, but our response can make a difference. So, why am I hesitant to express my opinion? There's a place for respectful disagreements, including of each other's faith, or lack thereof as espoused a few years back by Joy Behar of “The View” and those who admire her. They mocked former Vice President Mike Pence for his Christian faith and talking to Jesus, even calling a “mental illness” his listening to Jesus’ voice. I, too, have heard the "voice" of God... sometimes loud and clear as if someone stood next to me uttering the words, other times nothing more than a gentle nudge in my soul. But, in re: school and public mass shootings, Ed and I have long felt there's something eating away at society, like a cancer. It’s doubtful if stricter gun laws will make a big difference in overall statistics of violence, since criminals always manage to get them. Though we do believe some laws strengthened may be more of a deterrent than others, it’s interesting that cities with the toughest gun laws haven’t curbed their gun violence. But you know, my Dad's guns were freely available to me and my brothers as teens, after training in respectful use, and we never considered using them wrongly. As crime rates increase, we see an obvious lack of respect for the value of another human being… with an increase in bullying and rage issues, taunting, mocking and killing of our law enforcement officers. We can argue gun crime stats, but I don't believe access to guns by teens or any criminal is our main issue. We have seen over time that any manner of weapon can be used besides guns - knives, a heavy object to bludgeon the victim, vehicles, even a rock by Cain to kill his brother Abel in a fit of jealous rage. Even in states or cities with the strictest gun control laws, crime rates have risen a good deal lately. Many at-risk youths have not learned how to appropriately redirect their losses, upsets or rage other than to lash out at those around them - especially when adults use violence to release their own anger. There seems to be a lack of discipline – some kids know what they can get away with and readily test the limits. And, sometimes, kids lack appropriate role models as we adults can also give inappropriate signals. Too often we, as a society, have given our youth too much, causing an "entitlement" syndrome where no effort is put forth to earn what one desires to gain. We witness or become the target of bullying, verbal attacks, abuse and harassment in many forms. Amidst the violence, angry rhetoric, and sexual harassment and misconduct in our society, something seems to be missing. What happened to the respect we once showed each other? Showing courtesy, consideration and honor to others fits together under that one term – respect. Displaying an attitude of humility with respect shows the depth of our own character and integrity. Yet, it seems that mocking or hateful vitriol is the language preferred from many directions. Like you, I find it appalling. Anger against sin and abuse is not wrong, but righteous, an emotional response which God gave us. When anger stems from a heart with sinful intention, therein lies the abuse and lack of respect. And it should make us stop and think. Perhaps, instead of taking a knee to the American flag and finding fault with America, those with ability, financial or otherwise, could help the underprivileged within current charities or create new ones. Perhaps, simply from their own heart of love, instead of violence and destruction to have their demands met, they could become a mentor to show the disadvantaged a better way. I grew up without much of what my peers had. I’ve been mocked and ridiculed. But I also grew up with parents who cared and who disciplined. I grew up with kids of all races, including black friends and those of international heritage, and they and their parents did all they could to accomplish their goals with respect and gratitude to the community. Where has morality gone? Why are certain “politically correct” attitudes condoned while those who disagree are held in disdain? With the push to set God aside as irrelevant in our lives, to live as if we are unaccountable to anyone and anything, I think we have also brushed moral ethics and values aside. After all, if we do not believe we’re created in the image of God, but simply exist because a few cosmic molecules exploded with a bang, then of what value is another person’s life. I find it ironic that huge fines are levied for killing animals, yet our unborn children are aborted/killed because they might be defective or an inconvenience. Is a conscience or a moral obligation obsolete? Do we do whatever seems right to us alone? Without moral absolutes and the ensuing guilt regarding what is or is not considered sinful behavior, then we don’t have to hold ourselves accountable to God and His word. Still, how often don’t those who hold to a belief in God tend to live by certain moral standards that have their very foundation in Holy Scripture. With so many accusations of sexual misconduct/harassment among public officials coming to light, has this pattern of behavior become prolific because of Bill Clinton’s ability to “get away with it” during his past presidency? I remember someone saying to me then that it was no big deal, “Everyone does it!” Oh really? Does everyone lie to cover up the truth, or only abusers? What’s lacking in one’s character to cause such rampant abuse? The predator or abuser knows how to shame his victims into silence. Silent no more, many are speaking out more readily, calling attention to the abuse and harassment suffered quietly for too long. The victims are trying to bring accountability into the picture for restitution and a better way to live responsibly. Yet, too often victims are still silenced and looked upon as the problem. We feel free to disparage and mock the opposition of our dearly-held beliefs, yet we’re appalled if our own perspectives are attacked. Once upon a time, we honored each other… despite our differences. Once upon a time, we agreed to disagree. We were able to debate and argue our points in a respectful manner, but now it seems that mocking, hate-filled rhetoric, and even violence is “de rigueur.” Why? I’ve pondered the societal denigration which brought about the November 2008 Black Friday shopping stampede. The epitome of greed fed that mad rush, pushing and shoving throughout the crowd, just to satisfy selfish desires… for Christmas gifts no less… resulting in the trampling death of a Wal-Mart employee. I remember hearing this story on the news then, and being saddened and appalled that such a tragedy could have even happened. But, isn’t it greed and selfishness which results in any crime, whether it be robbery or murder? We’re jealous. We dislike. And we allow minor slights to fester. We have our rights, hold grudges, and can’t forgive. Someone has what we want so we take it to satisfy our pleasure, or destroy the one who owns it. How unutterably sad that society has stooped to this level, even to condemning those who bring attention to abuses they’ve dealt with. Yet, there’s nothing new under the sun, as Solomon once said. (Ecclesiastes 1:9) Even Adam and Eve’s son Cain killed his brother, Abel, out of jealousy that festered and grew into a murderous hatred. (Genesis 4:4-12) These thoughts reminded me of the vitriol espoused by and against various public officials, particularly during election time. There’s a hatred and cancellation of the opposition, those holding and expressing conservative and/or Christian biblical values. Whether by, or against, the president of our nation or any of our local officials, including law enforcement officers, such words seem to be the norm lately. With hatred and anger fueled perhaps by abusive rhetoric, and a loathing of that with which we disagree, passions are fed and all manner of evil erupts from the human heart… rather than allowing the opposition time to express their opinion. In the Summer of 2017, many thought it was “the right thing to do” by taking down statues erected in memory of our nation’s historical past. We cannot rewrite history by destroying that with which we disagree, and instead are setting a dangerous precedent. In removing what is considered a negative, perhaps we miss the opportunity to learn from past mistakes… personal and collective, national and international. Perhaps there are teachable moments that would draw our divergent beliefs together in common ground. In the slippery progression to remove more and more references to our historical past, what’s next? Think long and hard of the consequences… because it just might be us next… me and you…for our beliefs. A contrast to such rhetoric and violence can be found in Jesus’ teachings that we call The Beatitudes, especially one simple phrase we all know as the Golden Rule. “So, in everything, do to others what you would have them to do you…” (Matthew 7:12 NIV) As the physician Luke expressed in his gospel (17:3), “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him.” What better way to show Christ’s love to our neighbor or enemy than by lending a helping hand with courtesy and forgiveness… while respecting our differences. When an expert in the old Jewish law asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:36-39 NIV) With such love, we “encourage one another and build each other up”. (I Thessalonians 5:11) Wow! What a depth of perfect wisdom we find in Jesus’ words! In taking them to heart, there’d be no more abuse, petty fights or squabbles among us, or even great wars. We’d be so in tune to each other’s needs that our selfish ego and desires would vanish. All out of a simple respect for each other and their needs. May God bless each of us as we practice that kind of true humility. Respect Linda A. Roorda It seems we’ve mislaid respect and value. We want what we want, and deserve it now! We’ll step on your toes, fight and destroy Not caring to pause and treasure your worth. ~ Entitled am I, my wants come first I rush and push, and trample on through. How dare you think that I could be wrong I have my rights! Get out of my way! ~ Oh, to our shame, what have we done… We once shared love but now foster hate, We once treasured folks for who they are And valued their rights as much as our own. ~ Common courtesy, we salute your ways With manners polite and outstretched arms Welcoming others with civility’s mores Regarding humility as our tone of grace. ~ With deference and honor we highly esteem Others before self with gratitude’s praise Rendering tribute where homage is due Tactful and kind, we respect you for you. ~~

Thank you, Ann. I agree with you and don't think we can ever fully imagine or appreciate all the suffering He endured for us. And I can totally imagine watching it would make you and any of us deeply emotional and to cry intensely ... as I'm sure his loved ones and followers did then too.

Thank you so much, Mahatma. I'm glad these words touched your heart 🙂

That's cool, including what Ann saw! Yes, me too! Living in Lounsberry from '69 to '74 on River Road, we could see the truck stop lit up after it was built, the trees along the hiway being way shorter and non-existent than now. One night, looking out at the stars in early '70s (no idea what year, perhaps '72-'73 based on my Dad's local then OTR driving) I noticed two bright lights close to each other in a certain spot, hovering above Rt. 17. It moved a little to the side, then went straight up until it faded from sight. My Dad said he'd seen things in the sky as an OTR trucker that made him think he saw UFOs too. So, I did my oral book report on an in-depth book about UFOs, only to be laughed at by classmates.

Easter… I remember one year when I was a little girl getting a special new dress, white bonnet, and pretty black patent leather shoes to wear to church, and, of course, chocolate candy. I also remember fun when my Mom helped us dye hard-boiled eggs. But what youngster doesn’t get excited about also getting a basket dressed up in pretty pastels, filled with sweet treats, stuffed bunnies, and other toys. And don’t forget the ever-popular Easter egg hunt with more candy or toys tucked inside plastic-colored eggs… the makings of childhood fun! And this year, enjoyed making a chalk-art drawing on our sidewalk for others to enjoy on this beautiful day. But, all my life, I’ve struggled with the dichotomy of our holiday celebrations… holding close the deeper faith-based, heart-felt meanings versus the popular fun and whimsical traditions. Sometimes it seems we take our Christian celebrations for granted. We do appreciate them for their remembrance of all Jesus did for us, but we have not always contemplated the intimate details in a more personal way. Focusing on Scripture and Jesus’ words, His sacrifice, and self-contemplation a few years back, my thoughts prompted this poem and contemplative reflection. Have you ever seen or held an old-fashioned iron nail? I'm sure many of you have, just as I have. Researching the history of nails, it’s a rather fascinating subject, and I learned that not until the latter 19th century did we begin producing round cut nails by machine. Bronze nails have been dated back to about 3000 b.c., with the Romans the first to eventually use harder iron for their nails. Since the earliest nail was first made, each hand-forged nail has been out individually by a blacksmith from iron heated in the fire. The nails were typically square, flat on four sides, tapering to a point at the other end. An online search brings up images of such nails from a hundred plus years ago all the way back to include Roman crucifixion nails. Those old Roman nails were ominous-looking objects about 5-7 inches long and half an inch wide at the top… and doubt I’d be wrong to call them spikes. So, it makes me shudder to think of the damage one of those Roman nails could do to a person’s flesh and bone. It also seems like a heart hardened to the cruelty inflicted was required for the job. And that was after the condemned criminal had been flogged mercilessly with the flesh torn and stripped from his back until he was hardly recognizable. I did not go to see Mel Gibson‘s movie, “The Passion of the Christ.” I know I could not have watched it for those very painful reasons. There’s a movie playing in my mind from reading the passages in our Holy Bible, and I prefer that personal familiarity. The above-referenced images are those which typically come to mind as we contemplate Jesus’s crucifixion during the Passover. Condemned under trumped-up false blasphemy charges by Jerusalem’s synagogue leaders, yet found guiltless by Rome’s representative, the crowd defiantly yelled, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” As the leaders promoted the release of Barabbas, a rightfully jailed and sentenced criminal, the crowd demanded that Jesus take his place on the cross instead. Thinking “Oh, the shame of it all!”, we also wonder how the Jews could condemn an innocent man to such a horrid death, one of their own who healed their sick and who spoke wisdom into their lives. But they did not understand His life’s purpose. As they condemned Jesus, little did they know they were actually fulfilling prophecy about God’s only begotten Son whose very life was a sacrifice for even them. So here I stand, holding tight that nail and pounding it in deeper with every sin I’ve ever committed… and will commit… unless I confess, repent, and accept His gift of salvation. And it humbles us even more to know Jesus went to that cross willingly. The Son of God willingly died for me… for you! He took our place… and bore our shame… to redeem us from all of our petty and monumental sins, in the past and in the future. For “we all, like sheep, have all gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.” (Isaiah 53:6 NIV) Yes, we have each gone astray, perhaps in only minor and seemingly insignificant ways, but our perfect God still calls sin what it is - “sin”. To know that God deeply loved you and me before we even came to be, and that He sent His only Son out from a perfect heavenly home to this fallen world for our salvation is simply overwhelming. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) I am forever grateful for such a gift of love… and that He came to shower you and me with His limitless forgiveness, mercy and grace. And as we celebrate the death and triumphant resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, let us never forget the sacrifice He made for each of us. Have a Blessed Easter! The Nail Linda A. Roorda Gripping the iron between my fingers I feel its cold and lifeless form, And it’s at this point my wandering thoughts Flash back in time to another day. Would I have taken that nail in my hand When before me lay a man condemned, Bruised and beaten, battered and bloody A man despised, forsaken and worn? But, in fact, I did. I did take that nail. With hammer in hand I raised my arm, To pound that nail into flesh and bone And heard its ring bring pain and anguish. Deep in my heart, I knew it was wrong. He’d done no crime, no offense or harm. But with every strike my sins came to mind For I’m the one who nailed him to the cross. And yet with each pound his face was serene No anger or hate… but a tender deep love. With tears I confessed, “My sin nailed You there!” While He replied, “It’s for you I died.” “It’s for you I came. For you I suffered. For your very soul I gave my all…” Death will not gain the heart of faith, The heart that to Him forever is pledged. ~~ 2017 A version of this poem and personal reflection was initially posted on The Network, an online resource of the Christian Reformed Church.

Who was the carpenter’s son they called Jesus, and what was He really like? He lived, breathed and walked the face of this earth some 2000 years ago, but how well do we really know Him? What would it have been like to be around Him, listening to Him, and following Him? Beyond what we read in our Holy Bible, or what others have written to express their understanding of Scripture’s portrayal of Him, we might wonder what He was like as a child or as an adult facing mundane day-to-day life issues. So, I paused to think about the man named Jesus in a more personal way… like a neighbor would watch this young man’s life from a distance. Because, sometimes, we may take our faith for granted. What made the life of Jesus special? Why did thousands of people seek him out while others spoke against him? Why did some ask questions intended to trick him while others clamored for more of his wisdom? Every time, though, Jesus amazed the questioners, and even pointed out their thoughts. I don’t think I’m alone in seeing myself among the various descriptions of His 12 disciples and their attitudes, nor among the attitudes of the crowds which followed him. I honestly don’t know how I would have reacted as a contemporary of Jesus. Would I have believed His message then… like I do now? Would I have stood on the sideline as a skeptic and mocker? Would I be afraid to affirm my love of Jesus like Peter did that night beside the fire? Perhaps these are among the issues any one of us might ponder. Yet, He was so much more… for the other side of the carpenter’s son was Holy. He had a wisdom, a knowledge, a divinity about Him that was evident to those who believed His message. He claimed to be the fulfillment of the ancient prophesies about the coming Messiah… in other words, He was born as one of us, yet He was fully God. Sometimes it may be hard to wrap our finite minds around that concept. He calmly and quietly took the punishment of death on a cross for something He did not do… to pay for my sins… for your sins… And my heart is forever grateful to the carpenter’s son, the Holy Son of God, for the mercy and grace He extends to each of us on our confession and repentance. As the Apostle Peter affirmed, “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12) May you be truly blessed this Palm Sunday as we look toward Good Friday and Easter, and contemplate together all that our Lord has done for us. The Carpenter's Son Linda A. Roorda I watched him grow, the carpenter's son. He was lucky, the boy who survived. Herod killed them, all boys under two But Joseph moved and saved his firstborn. Back from Egypt to Nazareth town, Joseph’s wood shop not far from my dad's. Jealous was I of one with no wrong. How could this boy always be perfect? I saw his work, quality unequalled. Though younger than I more skilled were his hands. His work in demand, mine not so much. Frustrated was I; like him I did not. Found debating the elder rabbis, Who was he really, this carpenter's son? How could he know such truths at age twelve? Puzzled was I, as I watched him grow. His father died young, with Jesus the oldest, Leaving their mother to raise them alone. A godly woman, without doubt was she A humble woman, with wisdom gifted. But there came a day when Jesus left home Leaving skeptic brothers, the carpenter's sons. Now he gathered a group of twelve men Teaching the crowds, with miracles, too. I have to admit my conscience was pierced For as I listened among noisy crowds I often wondered how had he become A man of wisdom, this carpenter's son? I began to listen a bit more closely His words made me think in ways I hadn’t before. He knew the Scriptures and taught to our hearts Once I disliked him, now I wanted more. What was the draw? Why such attention? His message simple, to love each other. But most of all with heart, mind and soul To love our God above all others. For three short years, I put aside self To understand the carpenter's son. I had not liked him, but he drew me near He opened my eyes to depths of my heart. But then I heard they’d arrested him! What was the crime? He had done no wrong! ‘Twas then I learned false charges were made Against our Teacher, the carpenter's son. The servant of all stood calmly as charged When asked who he was, confessed to be God. Without fair trial, they mocked and whipped And like a meek lamb, faced his own death. We stood and watched as nails were hammered His cross raised high between mocking thieves. Taunted was he, called King of the Jews Yet humbly forgiving was the carpenter's son. When they determined death had overcome We quietly left to contemplate all. How could this happen, we wondered aloud As he was buried behind a great stone. The man of wisdom with a heart for peace He who preached mercy was gone from our midst. Who could replace the man we once followed? Like no one else, our hearts he had touched. Three days later news came to our ears. He was risen, though how I don't know! Mary first saw Him in the garden alone Our Master and Savior, Redeemer and Lord. He then appeared to the gathered friends To show his scars and express His love. But He also spoke of a message now ours Of mercy and grace from the carpenter's son. ~~

Thanks very much Kevin! but I haven't a clue how to do streaming services. My husband is blind and I'm not tech savvy. I've struggled with using DVDs, and even stopped doing that.

Thanks Kevin - Don't get Disney on our cable; don't know what streaming is 🙂