Matthew Brady and Me

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        Matthew Brady and Me

Take down a book of Civil War photographs from a shelf, and you will often find that many of the pictures were taken by Matthew Brady. The Civil War was the first of America's many wars to be photographed.

I feel that I can really relate to him as I, too, was a photographer. Although the equipment he used, and the conditions under which he was forced to work, were vastly different than mine.

For example, he had to use a large, heavy, bulky camera with bellows placed upon a tripod. The camera used glass plates that were coated with a light-sensitive material. These plates were kept in light-tight holders. When a picture was to be made, a holder was placed in rear of the camera. A slide was removed  to make an exposure.

The major problem Brady faced was that to take a picture, a long period of exposure was necessary. And, if the subject moved, a blur was created.

Once the photo was made the next step was to develop it. Brady had a light-proof tent sitting atop a horse-drawn wagon. He had to work in the dark with chemical fumes, and no ventilation. How he must have suffered!

The subjects of his pictures shows us all the horrors of war. The dead bloated bodies of fallen soldiers. The ruined cities. The huge cannons, and much, much more.

It was the Union General Sherman who said, "War is hell." Brady shows us exactly what he meant.

There is one big difference between Brady and me. He never took any photographs from an airplane.
                       
       Aloha
       Grant  

Chernobyl Revisited

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         Chernobyl Revisited

The firemen were the first ones to die. Many others would soon follow. All they knew was that there was a fire at the reactor. What they did not know, was the danger of radiation. They soon found out, when in the hospital their bodies were swollen up like balloons. Sores covered their bodies. The wife of one fireman said that her husband's mouth became filled with bits of his liver and lungs. Most of these men died within fourteen days.

Some soldiers were ordered to fight the fire, and they didn't know about radiation either. Busses were called to evacuate children in the area. People in the affected area were forced to leave their homes.
Those leaving boarded up windows and doors. The names of the owner of the houses were painted on the outside of the buildings.

Some of the fields around villages were frosted with a white powder. There were tiny holes in the leaves of trees, and tiny holes too in cucumbers and tomatoes. But they were eaten anyway.

No information was forthcoming. Some thought that radiation was colored white, while others said that it was black. And all the while, the papers and radio claimed that the situation was under control.

And what about the animals grazing in the fields? They ate and died. The now silent houses in the surrounding villages saw dogs awaiting their masters return.

The authorities believed that dog and cat fur carried radiation, and enlisted twenty hunters to kill all the dogs and cats. The dogs greeted the hunters, only to be shot dead. Later on the dogs began to hide from the hunters. Cats were much harder to find and kill. One such hunter said that he was haunted by the memory of one black poodle which had to be buried alive because all the hunters were out of ammunition. Strangely, none of the pigs were killed.

The passing years saw the collapse of the Soviet Union. Some people returned to their homes, only to find them looted of everything.They did not seem to care very much, as they rejoiced in the freedom to go and do what they pleased, on their own land.

The schools in Chernobyl had sand covering the surrounding area. The children had to remain indoors all day. The government issued one suit of clothes to each student, which was supposed to be washed daily.

Teachers found that their students were tired, and failed to play games. And it was almost impossible for them to repeat sentences when given them.

What I have written above is my attempt to summarize what happened at Chernobyl. All of my information is from a book "Voices From Chernobyl," by Svetlana Alexievich, winner of the Nobel Prize For Literature 2015. Her book is a series of interviews she had with people who survived the disaster. She points out that those who survived were shunned by members of society, in the same way the survivors of Hiroshima were treated.

This book caused me to remember that my family and I once lived in what was called the "Danger Zone." We were told what to do in case of the failure of the nuclear power plant. We were advised to drive North on the single main highway. What then? We lived seven miles from the Fermi II power plant, and at one time I rented a dock for my sailboat directly across from one of the cooling towers.

        Aloha
        Grant

Mara's Story

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           Mara's Story

"There are not many White Russians left,most of them are dead." she said.
"The Revolution of 1917, was a long time ago." I replied.
"I was born in Shanghai." she continued.  "Many White Russians moved to China, they couldn't go back to Russia and be killed."

"So what did your parents do in Shanghai?" I asked. "They sold some silverware and a samovar, and started a business."
"What did they sell?" "I don't know, but we lived pretty well." "That was until the war between Chang Kai Chek's Nationalists and Mao Tse Tung." "And when the Red Army won,we lost everything." "There were two countries we could go to, Argentina and Brazil." "We chose to go to Brazil." "We were so poor."

"Did you learn to speak Portuguese?" "Yes, and I went to school.""How did you manage to come to America?" "We had an aunt living there and she sponsored us."

Do you have anything that you brought here   from Russia?" "Yes, I have a large white scarf  that was given to my father, who was a soldier." "And down on one corner there is the name of the czar Nicholas II." " It must be very valuable,you should frame it." "I think I will, and give it to my daughter.

         Aloha
 
         Grant





















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Herman Melville and Me

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        Herman Melville And Me

The world famous author of Moby Dick, Herman Melville, and I have quite a bit in common. For instance, both he and I worked in stores here in Honolulu. I do not know what was sold in the store where he worked in 1841, but I sold tee shirts at the Hawaii Yacht Club during the 2015 Trans-Pacific Yacht Race.

But the strongest bond between us is that he went whale hunting, and so did I. He first sailed on the whaleship, Acusnet, and later on other ships. Many times my wife and I sailed on the Star of Honolulu. Melville's ship was seeking Sperm whales for their oil.  We were seeking humpback whales for good photographs.

Five times last season, my wife and I went seeking whales, and failed to find any. But you do get a rain check for a future trip. Most of the whales seemed to have been around the island of Maui.

Both his ship and ours had food aboard. The whaleships during his day fed the thirty-five man crew, an endless  diet of salt beef or pork, tea, dried peas, potatoes (while they lasted), dried beans, flour, and molasses. Of course upon sailing away they enjoyed fresh chicken and pork from pens lashed to the deck.

I am very sure that he would have preferred the food we had aboard. Taro rolls, blueberry muffins, link sausages, scrambled eggs, rice, fresh fruit, and tea or coffee.

I should mention that the galley (kitchen) of a whaleship was about five by eight feet  and the cook fed some 35 men. The cook was the poorest paid, and so they often jumped ship. I don't know the size of the  galley of the Star of Honolulu, but I can relate. I  measured the kitchen in our condo and it is about the same size. I have only to cook for the two of us, except during holidays when the number is inflated to at least thirteen. And, I don't have to tend a stove that must remain level while the whole ship rocks and rolls.

In a related item I should tell you that the wreck of a whaleship Two Brothers, was found 600 miles north west of Honolulu on12 February 2011. The wood had all rotted away, but harpoons and the great cauldrons for boiling down the whale fat were found. This was the ship from Nantucket that was captained by George Pollard and was run aground. His earlier command was the Essex which was sunk by a whale. The tale of the Essex is one of survival and cannibalism. Pollard was considered unlucky, and never returned to sea. He served out his life as a night watchman.

Melville married the Essex tale of the ship being sunk by a whale into his novel, Moby Dick.

Humpback whales continue to come to Hawaii to breed and raise their calves, before returning to the cooler waters around Alaska. If you are ever in Hawaii during whaling season be sure to go and see the largest mammals in the  world.

        Aloha
        Grant

These Three

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          These Three

There are three often neglected, or lost in the shuffle of Christmas Stories. The first one to come to my mind is a short story "The Gift of the Maji" written by O. Henry (William Sydney Porter). The warm charming story tells about a couple who so loved each other and didn't have any money to exchange gifts. They each made a sacrifice  to make giving possible. This story is a good bet for Hallmark t.v. but they have probably already used it.

The second neglected work is "The Journey of the Wisemen," by T.S. Eliot.  The poem tells the difficulties they faced. An excellent    short poem.

The third neglected work is another long poem "A Child's Christmas in Wales," by the Welch poet Dylan Thomas. This is probably my favorite Christmas poem. New Directions published a slim booklet of the poem many years ago. I thought so much of the poem that I copied it for my students.

I am fortunate to have a recording of the poet reading it. The poem tells of the events taking place in this Welch town on Christmas. I remember reading that when the recording took place, the poet sat on the edge of the theater stage with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He probably had a few drinks too. Alcohol in the end killed him. Some images from the poem come to mind. He recalls the gifts he received, the aunt who was drunk and singing like a big bosomed thrush in the backyard. Two men smoking their pipes on a walk in the snow. Eternal snow since last Wednesday. People with their cheeks stuffed with goose pressed against the window pane. Small boys wanting to write in the snow,"Mr. Daniel looks like a spaniel." Oh there is so much. I cannot begin do this poem justice. If you are not familiar with the work, do yourself a treat and enjoy.

      Aloha

      Grant

Just Suppose

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            Just Suppose

The man shuddered as he walked quickly past the elevator, knowing that sounds from it had ceased days ago. He had keys to an often vacant apartment. Maybe he could find some bottles of water.

It had been three weeks earlier that the giant tsunami had roared ashore at Waikiki. The entire South shore of the island had been wrenched apart by the raging wall of water. People living in buildings above seven floors survived. Bodies and debris filled the silent streets. Electric power failed, and so later did cell phones, as there was no way to recharge them.

Tourists used to being supplied with food and water, raided flooded kitchen storerooms and took to the debris filled silent streets, in search of food and water.

Help from the windward side of the island was being delayed due to downed trees and wreckage from the storm. Help was also slow in coming from the mainland due to a giant storm which prevented supply planes from arriving. Even ships carrying relief supplies found it impossible to cross the churning sea. Waikiki was now all alone.

All the stores in the area were either destroyed or looted of their contents. Roving bands emptied small mom and pop stores located on higher ground. The police and sheriff departments were unable to maintain law and order.

People living in condos were spared the effects of the storm,but soon ran short of water. Some tents fashioned long ropes of electrical cords,sheets torn into strips and woven together. These were lowered down to the ground where bartering took place. Canned food was exchanged for gallons of water.

Small bands of men roamed the hallways of the silent buildings looking for kitchens to loot.

The man thought that he and his wife were probably safe as they lived so high in the building, and it would be a long climb up. They had often heard gunfire. He wished he had bought a baseball bat for protection. But the leg of a table or chair would have to do in an emergency. As long as their deadbolt held, they were pretty safe.

Sometimes choppers were seen lifting people from the roofs of buildings. But there were so many people, the task was overwhelming.

The storm ceased at last,and the battery powered radio told that cargo planes would soon arrive, and drop supplies.The man and his wife  watched as the sky was filled with men and cargo chutes,landing on the wide grass field of Fort DeRussey and nearby beaches.

Far fetched? maybe, but just suppose.

      Aloha
      Grant

The Lesson

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            The Lesson

An old man was seated on a park bench reading his tablet."Mister would you help me?" The voice came from a small girl standing next to him. "What can I do for you?" he said. "Help me to learn to write in cursive." she replied. "What is your name?" he asked. "Emily." "How old are you?" "Nine, going on ten."

Why do you want to learn to write cursive?"  "It's so beautiful" "I look at the cursive writing by Thomas Jefferson and John Hancock, and they just seem to flow."
"Why does everyone print today?" "What happened?"

 The old man tried to explain." I think it all began with the invention of the printing press and moveable type."" It would have been difficult to print a newspaper or a tablet today in cursive."
"Oh but cursive didn't disappear." " It was used for a long time." " It was taught in schools."" Above the chalk boards the letters of the alphabet were shown, and how to form each letter, both large letters and small ones."

"People would send each other letters written in cursive."" There were even postcards written on one side and sent people." "That wasn't very private was it?" "No, but these were just friendly letters."" People would send cards from places were they were, while on vacation."

"What then happened to curves?" she asked "Computers,the internet, and all the rest." the old man sighed.

"I still want to learn how to write in cursive" Emily said stubbornly." "Will you teach me?" "Why me?" "Because you are old and know so much."

"Well, I'm no expert, but I will show you how to write one word in cursive.""We will write Thomas Jefferson"s last name."

"What would you like to pretend to be,flying a plane or ice skating?" "I think I would like to be flying a plane." "So we are going to pretend that you are a flying a plane."

"First you should draw three horizontal line on your tablet,one above the other, with an even space between, like a fence with three wires." "Let me see what you have."She shows him her tablet.
 
"Now let's go flying and write Jefferson in cursive." "We begin on the middle line an take off up into the air, and make a wide loop to the left and then fly back down and pass over the middle line and fly on down and make a narrow loud and fly up again to the center line where you started." "Let's see how far you have flown. "That's pretty good."

"Now we have to connect the letter "J" to the next one, and all you do is to fly a small loop to the right and return to the center line." "Then you have to fly two tall narrow loops close together." "That looks real fine." "Next you fly another small loop and we come to the letter "r," which you fly up and stop and fly level to the right, and back down again." The next letter looks like a partridge or a robin pushing its chest cut." " Fly up, push your chest out, and come back down"This is the letter"s." "Now comes a really fun letter, fly a complete loop." "We now hook it to the last letter." "Fly straight up and then make a small arc to the right, and fly straight back down." "That is all there is to it." You have just written "Jefferson." in cursive. congratulations!"

"You should go to the internet and find more about cursive and how to form all the letters. And after much practice you will be able to write smoothly in cursive. " "Then something magical  will happen!"" You will have developed your own particular style of writing." "It belongs to you alone, and    nobody else." "Some people write small, some write very large." "Some writing slants to the right, and others to the left." "My grandpa Joe always wrote in green ink,"I always thought that was something special, everyone else always wrote in either blue or black ink."

"Thank you for the lesson." Emily said. "Will you be here tomorrow?" "I hope so," he replied.

         End

        Aloha
        Grant