Category Archives: Good People

No Man is an Island

Thanks to this year's presidential campaign there's been a rather intense discussion on how much the "self made" success stories in this country owe to help from others. Without getting into the politics of the day it's still interesting to read how some people view their own success, and it's also a great opportunity to share these views with kids who are just getting started on their own journey. In that vein is this essay from writer John Scalzi:

My parents’ marriage did not last particularly long and in the early seventies — and off and on for the next several years — my mother found herself in the position of having to rely on the social net of welfare and food stamps to make sure that when she couldn’t find work (or alternately, could find it but it didn’t pay enough), she was able to feed her children and herself. Once again, I owe thanks to America’s taxpayers for making sure I had enough to eat at various times when I was a child.

Not having to wonder how I was going to eat meant my attention could be given to other things, like reading wonderful books. As a child, many of the books I read and loved came from the local libraries where I lived. I can still remember going into a library for the first time and being amazed — utterly amazed — that I could read any book I wanted and that I could even take some of them home, as long as I promised to give each of them back in time. I learned my love of science and story in libraries. I know now that each of those libraries were paid for by the people who lived in the cities the libraries were in, and sometimes by the states they were in as well. I owe the taxpayers of each for the love of books and words…

I know what I have been given and what I have taken. I know to whom I owe. I know that what work I have done and what I have achieved doesn’t exist in a vacuum or outside of a larger context, or without the work and investment of other people, both within the immediate scope of my life and outside of it. I like the idea that I pay it forward, both with the people I can help personally and with those who will never know that some small portion of their own hopefully good fortune is made possible by me.

So much of how their lives will be depends on them, of course, just as so much of how my life is has depended on my own actions. We all have to be the primary actors in our own lives. But so much of their lives will depend on others, too, people near and far. We all have to ask ourselves what role we play in the lives of others — in the lives of loved ones, in the lives of our community, in the life of our nation and in the life of our world. I know my own answer for this. It echoes the answer of those before me, who helped to get me where I am.

 

 

Hurricane Lucy

If you know Lucy "Esbee" Cash, she of Life in Forsyth fame, you will not be surprised to learn that she's been named Winston-Salem Forsyth County Schools' 2012 Judy Mountjoy Volunteer of the Year:

Between Paisley, where her son Leon is a seventh-grader, and Whitaker Elementary School, where her younger son, George, is in the third grade, Cash spends about 20 hours a week as a volunteer. 

All the work that Cash does – and all the care she shows for students and teachers along the way – prompted the Winston-Salem/Forsyth County Council of PTAs to give Cash its 2012 Judy Mountjoy Volunteer of the Year Award last night. Established in 2000, the award is named for a former teacher and guidance counselor who has devoted countless hours as a volunteer.

It feels odd to be honored for doing something that’s so satisfying, Cash said. “I genuinely enjoy it.” 

If you've ever met Lucy you'll also not be surprised by these quotes from other volunteers:

“She has a lot of energy, and she is here all the time, no matter what,” said fellow volunteer Brierley Ash.

“If the teacher needs something, she’s going to figure out a way to get it done,” said Deena Dreyfuss, a Paisley volunteer who nominated Cash for the award. “She is here so much, she gets to know the kids. So many kids come up to her. She says, ‘How did you do on that math test?’”

Those of you who may have been wondering why her blogging at Life in Forsyth has been less prolific of late I think you have your answer as to why.

Well deserved Lucy. Congratulations!

Do You Know How Hard It Is to Dust a Christmas Tree?

Good friend Ruth Burcaw, creator of the Burcaw Approach to Christmas decorating, has a nice post explaining why she shunned the Burcaw approach this year:

Still, I was surprised by the family reaction to my announcement that we would be taking down the tree at the end of the 2011-12 holiday season. What was I thinking? “We are the family who leaves their Christmas tree up! What will we tell our friends?” It just seemed like time; I mean, do you have any idea how much dust can accumulate on a Christmas tree over the course of two years?  Dusting a tree is not an easy task.  So, the weekend after epiphany (January 6), the tree came down. As I worked on the dismantling, I reflected about why it had to come down now:

  • Simple Boredom: Over time, I stopped noticing the tree. My trips into the living room to sit and read/knit by the glowing light of the tree became fewer and fewer. I began to take its beauty for granted.
  • The Process is Important : As I removed each ornament one-by-one from its carefully-chosen location nestled among the branches, I realized I receive great satisfaction in touching, admiring, and most of all, remembering the story of each ornament.  A thoughtful employee who moved on long ago gave me the gorgeous Santa and Mrs. Claus kissing fish ornaments.  We picked up the little Mickey Mouse in a Christmas light bulb ornament during our family trip to Disney World in 2006. Another rare wooden Santa I bought in a mall in Phoenix while traveling for work.  Santa riding a fish I gave to my husband, an aspirational fisherman. An old-fashioned Santa cross-stitched by my father-in-law was an early marriage gift. The elegant Radke, the whimsical Silvestri, the Santa on a golf ball from my childhood tree. Each ornament stirs up emotions and memories, most all of them good, associated with people and places throughout my life. Why would I deny myself the small pleasure of the trip down Santa Memory Lane?
  • A Tree Does Not Equal Happiness: Where does authentic happiness come from? Certainly, I am aware that nothing external creates happiness on any core level, but the tree has always represented meaningful aspects of  my life – the joy and anticipation of Christmas, special family memories and trips, light that shines in darkness, and moments of peaceful, quiet contemplation. But do I really need the tree to conjure up those thoughts and images? Can I create happiness without the physical reminder? I suppose it is time to consider the possibility.

I'm trying to convince my lovely wife that we need to pick up the Burcaw torch and run with it this year.  So far, so good.

In Sickness and In Health

There is an excellent piece in the Washington Post that I found to be at turns heart warming and heart wrenching.  It's a story about love, the vows of marriage, and at the most basic level, love.  I don't want to provide any excerpts for you here because quite frankly the story is too well written as a whole to be sampled in pieces. I've shared it with a few people and have been fascinated by their varying reactions; people I trust and with whom I almost always agree have disagreed with me and each other on certain aspects of this story. Despite those disagreements I feel safe in stating that after reading it all of us found our own "issues" paled by comparison.

Here's the link to the story – I can't recommend it highly enough.

Smitty Gets Well Deserved Award

I've been fortunate to have had the opportunity to rub elbows with Jeff "Smitty" Smith, he of Smitty's Notes fame, on several occasions and I can tell you that he's one of the nicest, most generous people you'll ever meet.  Yesterday he received the Duke Energy Citizenship and Service Award at the Winston-Salem Chamber of Commerce's annual meeting, and I can't think of anyone more deserving. 

Congrats to Smitty and if you aren't already I highly recommend you become one of his regular readers. 

YardDawg’s Grilling

YardDawg, aka Doug Grimes, is featured in a Winston-Salem Journal story about grilling:

Grimes, 61, grew up around Kinston. He remembers his grandfather and other male relatives barbecuing whole hogs. "I'd hang out with those guys and watch them — I was probably 4 or 5 years old the first time I saw that."

Later, he watched his father grill on the weekends. "Every Friday or Saturday night he was cooking something outside," Grimes said.

His father is now 88 and no longer grilling himself, but Grimes will cook for him on visits to Kinston on the grill that Grimes gave him as a present in 1971.

Grimes even grilled on the many days spent away from home as a tobacco buyer. "Even little towns inKentucky would have a motel, and we'd set up a little grill on the balcony," Grimes said. "It might be just hot dogs or hamburgers, but it was still better than McDonald's."

A beef lover, Grimes took two grills with him when he moved to Zimbabwe for three years to work as a tobacco export manager.

He's eaten grilled food in MexicoThailandArgentina and other countries. "I've always been a fan of street food," he said. "When I was in Bangkok or wherever, I'd find the stall that had a line with like 20 people."

He has found that a love of grilled meat is universal.

"I've done it (grilling) just about everywhere I've ever been," he said. "We even had a pig pickin' in China, inYunnan province."

 

Hopefully She Meant Intermission

Over at Life in Forsyth Esbee has a post titled The End in which she writes:

As some of you know and some of you have probably guessed, I have some ooky medical stuff going on, a tad more serious than I had hoped. I need to go deal with this and hoard the diminished energy I have for my sweet family. (Plus, hi? How many boring phonophotos of boring waiting rooms are you really interested in seeing?)

I'm very hopeful that I'll be all a-mend soon and able to return to Shangri-Winston tout de suite.

In the meantime, enjoy the pool*, enjoy the sand**, and remember to tip your cabana attendants well***.

I'll miss you.

Best,
Lucy

* insert your favorite local manmade venue here
** insert your favorite local natural attraction here
*** SHOP LOCAL!

Reading this made me sad and concerned for obvious reasons, but it also reminded me that it's been far too long since I've enjoyed a cup of coffee with my fellow DC transplant.  She's getting plenty of comments wishing her well, and for every one that's written I guarantee that there are at least three times that many people who have been entertained and informed by her blog that are sending well wishes her way.  Personally I'm just praying that The End really meant Intermission.

Get well Lucy.

Forgiveness

I know a lot of Christians, myself included, who struggle with forgiveness. After reading Rick Reilly's column I'd say Lewisville's own superstar Chris Paul could probably teach us a thing or two.  Not many people would seek a second chance for their grandfather's killers:

"Even though I miss my granddad," Paul told me, "I understand that he's not coming back. At the time, it made me feel good when I heard they went away for life. But now that I'm older, when I think of all the things I've seen in my life? No, I don't want it. I don't want it…"

No, what floors me about Chris Paul is his humanity. If strangers had bound my weak-hearted grandfather, beat him for no reason and killed him for the cash in his wallet — strangers who to this day have not shown a thimbleful of contrition — I'd want them in prison 100 years after they were in the dirt. 

Chris Paul once wrote that his grandfather "taught me more things than I could ever learn with a Ph.D." 

One of them must've been love.