The Democracy of Quakerism

Having found the Quakers some twenty-five years ago in Madison, WI, I cannot cease but to be amazed at how their business and decisions are carried out even though, to use a lay term, consensus is the only decision making process used.

The basis of Quakerism, as opposed to other churches is that decisions are made from the bottom up.  We have no hierarchy to tell us what to do—no minister, head priest, or priestess (or Pope!)—just numerous Quaker meetings made up of like-minded individuals who make the decisions for their particular monthly meeting.  Individual, or “monthly”, meetings in a geographic region are all part of a yearly meeting; the various yearly meetings make up one of the two national organizations—Friends United Meeting (FUM), the evangelical, or conservative, branch of U.S. Quakerism; and Friends General Conference (FGC), the un-programmed, or liberal, branch.  Some yearly meetings are members of both national organizations.

The decisions or “leadings” that bear fruit in the monthly can spread to the yearly meeting and, possibly, to one of the two national organizations.  A prime example of this is when the youth of the Sarasota Friends Meeting (my home meeting) became involved with the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW), an organization of migrant workers in South Florida that is working for better pay and working conditions for their workers.  Our youth took their message and activism to the annual gathering of Southeastern Yearly Meeting.  The youth of SEYM became quite active and involved in the plight of the migrant workers and spread the word to the youth of FGC, through the annual gathering this past summer in Colorado.  As a result, that sense of activism has sprouted roots in other areas of the country—thanks in large part to the young ones in our own monthly meeting.

Un-programmed Quakers operate with a sense that God (Divine Spirit; Friendly Presence; or however one defines their sense of a higher spirit) is present within us all.  We believe we have a direct connection with that spirit and that we need no intermediary to tell us what God wants us to do.  It is that sense of continuing revelation that guides us, not only in meetings for worship and business, but in our daily lives, as well.

There is no “majority rule” or leaving any decision up to a single person.  It is a total and complete meeting of the minds on how to proceed on any particular issue.  Each person brings their bit of Light to the matter being discussed in much the same way as several spotlight beams come together on the stage to make them one where they intersect.  This is known in Quakerism as “sense of the meeting”, as opposed to the secular term of “consensus”.  To me, sense of the meeting also means that God has a voice in the decision-making process.

Conversely, if one of the light beams does not intersect with the others and illuminates a separate spot on the stage, there can be no convergence of all the light being cast on that stage.  As is Quaker practice, if one person has an objection to a particular feeling or direction in which the meeting for business is headed, they can voice their reservations and not allow a sense of the meeting to prevail.  A good example of this happened in the Sarasota Friends Meeting many years ago.  When it began, the meeting was a nomadic one, gathering in several places for worship throughout Sarasota over the years.  A group within the meeting felt it was time to build their own meetinghouse and the idea spread.  A building fund was established and started to grow.  However, there was one member who felt it frivolous to spend money on the construction of a meetinghouse until, at long last, he finally came around.  The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back was when the meeting was asked to vacate their regular worship space in one of the old Ringling brothers’ mansions (now a part of New College of Florida).  The recently installed college president wanted it for his office.   The surprising comment to the other members was, “We need a meetinghouse!”  Thus, the “weighty” Friend’s Light merged with that of the others and the present meetinghouse was built in 2001.  Although it took over twenty years, sense of the meeting was finally achieved.

One way a person who’s Light is not in sync with the others in a Quaker meeting for business, but does not wish to stand in the way of a particular decision or action, is to “stand aside” and let the rest of those in the meeting agree to carry out the decision.  In the minutes of the business meeting’s proceedings, the person can either remain anonymous or be recorded as standing aside. 

The democracy of Quakerism is a singular example of people working together to reach a common goal.  Each member of any particular meeting has an equal voice in the decision making process.  We have been referred to, over the years, as a “peculiar people”—ones who operate under the principles of divine guidance and sense of the meeting.  We have no need for intermediaries; we feel that compromise is not the giving in of one’s conscience but the seeking out of divine will; we believe that all persons’ thoughts and utterances on a particular subject should be given equal value.

Yes, we are peculiar people, but I wouldn’t trade the Quakers’ way of conducting themselves or their decision-making process for anything else.

Reflections on Nelson Mandela

During silent worship this morning at the Sarasota Friends Meeting (Quakers), one member stood and gave a message about what a loss it was to mankind that the voice of Nelson Mandela had, at long last, been silenced.  That got me to thinking about Mandela and his message.

While he started out as a non-violent opponent of apartheid who advocated civil disobedience as a member of the African National Conference (ANC), he came to believe that armed insurrection was the only way to achieve change.  He was ultimately sentenced to life imprisonment in 1963 for his actions.  In 1985 he was offered his release from prison by South African President P.W. Botha, an offer Mandela flatly refused.  When Botha suffered a stroke and was replaced by F.W. deKlerk, discussions geared toward his release from prison progressed and Mandela was released on February 11, 1990.  I recall watching his release in the middle of the night with my wife, Pam.  We were both so happy to be witnessing such an historic event.  Upon his release from prison, Mandela renounced violence and set the stage for a most wonderful final almost 24 years of his life.

In reflecting on him during worship this morning, it struck me that he was the Abraham Lincoln; the Mohandas Gandhi; and the Martin Luther King, Jr. of South Africa.  The only difference was he was able to live out his natural life rather than having been assassinated.  South Africa, much like the American South, was a very divided society--a society in which the native African people were subjugated to third class citizens and were looked on by the whites as being akin to something they would wipe off their shoes, had they the misfortune of stepping in an unpleasant deposit on the sidewalk.  Mandela and deKlerk were jointly awarded the 1993 Nobel Peace Prize for their work in dismantling apartheid and in 1994 Mandela was elected the country's first black president.  His work in transitioning his country from white minority rule to that of the black majority left his mark on South Africa.  He remained active after retiring from the presidency in 1999, raising money for various needed projects, building schools and furthering the educational opportunities for his nation as well as promoting nonviolence as the means to an end.

His dedication to non-violence is and will remain his legacy.  The world has seen very few people who can affect not only their country but the entire world.  He was such an inspiration to so many people.  A good friend wrote to me about her thoughts on his passing:  "I think we all have it in us to approach life from a place of love and compassion.  We all have it in us to put ourselves on the line in the name of justice, real justice for all, to speak up and out.  We may not all have the charisma or the desire to be on the front page, but we can and MUST be like Nelson Mandela, the Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu...  I feel like I spent the 8 years under Bush/Cheney saying, 'Where are the leaders?'  WE are the leaders, we have to be!!  And we have to be the monkey wrenches that stop the wheels from turning, when that is called for."

My prayer is that we all take a bit from Nelson Mandela's lessons and use them to make a better world for all and especially, our children.

Because of Winn-Dixie

I am a regular at the nearby Winn-Dixie supermarket and much prefer it over the other big Florida chain, Publix.  This morning, I stopped there to pick up some meat for dinner.  Upon entering the store I was met with a toy display of dolls, cars, trucks, and half size M16s.  I was immediately turned off by the display because it appears W-D is endorsing gun use by offering up toy assault rifles, advertised as "machine guns", as an appropriate "toy" for a youngster.

As I was checking out I asked the cashier to let her management know of my concern that these are inappropriate items to be marketed for children.  A man, who overheard me tell the cashier I felt it was "disgusting" hollered at me, "Why?  Are you anti-gun?" to which I replied I was and that our children are exposed to too much violence as it is.

Upon returning home, I sent the following to Winn-Dixie via their customer comment page on their website:

I am a regular shopper at store #656 and really enjoy the selection and prices Winn Dixie offers as well s the Fuel Perks card.  This morning, however, I was quite put off by one of the products you are offering for sale--namely a toy machine gun in the toy kiosk near the front entrance.

We have more than enough violence in our society and our youngsters are exposed to much more than they should be.  Don't get me wrong.  I grew up in the 1950s and played G.I. Joe and cowboys and Indians with my buddies.  The most violence I recall was seeing the Lone Ranger shoot a gun from an outlaw's hand.  I had no video games to play.  Nowadays, though, there is massive violence portrayed on TV and the movies; uber-violent video games; and mass shootings--from Columbine, through VA Tech, to Newtown, to the D.C Navy Yard, and beyond.

As a person who has seen war firsthand in Vietnam and who is saddened at the daily violence I see on the news and in the local newspapers, I feel your fine company is sending the wrong message by offering these violence-based "toys" for sale in your stores.  Winn Dixie is much better than that.

Thank you for your consideration of my concern.  I will remain a loyal customer.

Hopefully they'll hear and act on my concern.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I almost got involved in a soap opera at this evening's game between the Bradenton Marauders and the Palm Beach Cardinals.  It was Cancer Awareness Night and pink Marauders jerseys were up for auction.  I was bidding on Willy Garcia's jersey for Debbie L., his future mother-in-law, who lives in Beardstown, IL.  I had placed in a bid of $200 for her and, as the bidding was about to close, I went to check on her bid.  A friend of mine, Mike S., put up a $230 bid, so I upped the bid to $240.  A mutual friend, Keith, asked me what I was doing and I said I was bidding for Garcia’s future mother-in-law.  Keith got really incensed, telling me Garcia was not engaged to anyone—that he had a girlfriend he is living with here in Bradenton.

He then went over and told Mike what I had said.  Apparently the “girlfriend” was hovering near him and heard what Keith told Mike.  Perhaps she was in the group with Mike, Keith and their wives—I don’t know.  Anyway, Keith comes over to me, a bit pissed off telling me the “girlfriend” was in tears and that there was no one else in the picture.  He told me I had to come over and let her tell me the situation, to which I replied I was not going to get into Garcia’s domestic affairs and to please don’t kill the messenger.  I then called Debbie to tell her she had the winning bid.

A little bit later, I called Debbie and asked her what her daughter’s name was (Robin) and was she down here, living with Garcia.  She said no, that Robin lives in Pennsylvania.  She asked why I was inquiring and I told her there apparently is a situation down here involving Willy and another girl.  She asked me if the girl has long dark hair and is a bit on the chunky side, which I confirmed.  She told me the girl’s name is Heather and that she is a “cleat-chaser”.  Apparently Debbie and Robin had a confrontation with Heather when they were down here in June (when I first met Debbie).  In the meantime I could see Heather sitting, rather stoically, over near the Marauders dugout, apparently stunned over the entire episode.  Garcia hit a double and all Heather could do was sit there with her arms crossed and had no reaction whatsoever.

While I didn’t feel I owed Keith an explanation, I told another mutual friend, Pat, that if he wanted to relay the truth to Keith, he could feel free to do so.  He did and reported back to me that Keith was a bit taken aback by the situation.  No doubt Willy is in deep doo-doo this evening.  If so, that’s his problem.  One might say he made his own bed and now has to sleep in it (if not on the couch).

Archie...

Archie, a foundling Shih Tzu, came into Pam's and my life in November 2007.  Both she and I are quite interested in fostering and adopting special needs dogs.  Archie, although he was not a special needs doggy until the past few months, became a very special pet to the two of us.

We were helping out at Canine Christmas, an annual event involving various dog rescue groups that is held each November here in Bradenton.  While she was assisting the South Florida Shih Tzu Rescue, I was working at the snack bar and hardly saw her for a few hours.  As things were winding down and the snack bar was cleaned up, I headed over to help Pam and her friend, Dianne, load up Dianne's car.  Sitting nearby was a decrepit looking black and white Shih Tzu.  Pam asked me if we could pleeeeease take him home.  He had been brought by Underdog Rescue, which was located next to Dianne's shih tzu rescue.  To me it was love at first sight, and I replied yes.  Pam was thrilled at my agreeing to adopt him, as I had declined to adopt other dogs in the past.

We brought him home and started to care for him.  He had an eye inflamation at the time and, after taking him to our vet (and neighbor), Mary Smart, she referred him to an veterinary opthamologist who, as it turned out, studied under a very good friend of mine, Dick Dubielzig, at the University of Wisconsin School of Veterinary Medicine.  He underwent several treatments but whipped the infection and kept his sight.  He was such a joy to have as a part of our lives.

He was so laid back--in fact, the most laid back--dog we have ever had.  He took things one day at a time, never snapped at or bit anyone or any other of five the dogs we also care for.  He only barked when he wanted to get up on the bed and, occasionally, when he needed to go O-U-T to take care of business.  Usually, he'd either walk into the great room and park himself in front of me or would just go to the front door and let out a muted "woof!".  Archie was pretty good about going for walks in the morning but, over the past year, they became few and far between.  Finally the walks ended and he would only go so far as the yard.

Pam and I have had many pets throughout our marriage, but none compare to Archie.  I have often noted to folks that Archie was "...the neatest dog we've ever had".  I truly mean that.  Chloe is the friendliest--one who has never met a stranger--but Archie was in a class by himself.  He'd snuggle when he needed to, but the most favorite thing to do was get laid out on a body pillow at the end of the bed.  He claimed ownership of it when were visiting our best friend, Linda, in Miami a few years ago.  Linda had it on the guest bed and Archie got comfortable on it and refused to get off it.  Gracious as Linda was, she insisted we bring it home for him to lay on.  He and the other dogs loved laying on it so much, that I had to lay in a second one a couple years ago--the second one for the great room, where he spent much of his time.  Right now, one of our other foundlings, Bella, is curled up on top of it.

R.I.P. Archie.  You were a wonderful companion and we know you'll be waiting for us at the Rainbow Bridge when our times come.

Opposition email re: Long Bar Pointe

Local developers are wanting to build a large, hoity toity waterfront project along one of the last remaining wild areas along the shore of Sarasota Bay here in Bradenton.  In fact, it is one of the few mangroves and breeding areas left along the west coast of Florida.  Being unable to attend a public hearing on Tuesday, next (Aug 6th), I send the following email to my own County Commissioner, John Chappie, as well as the two at-large commissioners.  Chappie called me upon receipt of the email, telling me it went to all commissioners and is now a part of the public record.  Thankfully, he is opposed to the development.  I am pleased to share it with my family, friends, and followers: 

 

Dear Commissioner Chappie:
 

I am writing you since I won't be able to attend Tuesday's county commission meeting in Palmetto, due to a doctor's appointment.  I wish to express my feelings on the proposed amendment to the Comprehensive Plan, an amendment submitted by the developers of Long Bar Pointe, that will forever destroy one of the last remaining natural, undeveloped areas along the south Florida Gulf coast—all for a  mega-sprawl complex that no one wants, but the developers.

Long Bar Pointe provides refugee for countless manatees, dolphins, seahorses, fish, and other species, as well as providing breeding and nursery areas for smaller fish.  Not only will such a development destroy this area, it will also have an adverse economic effect on those who depend on the Gulf for their livelihoods—commercial fishermen; charter boatmen; and just about anyone who depends on the tourist industry.  If there is no sea life to support these businesses the historic way of life, especially in Cortez, will be gone forever.  Even beyond the economic matters, environmental concerns such as  flooding, wind breaks, natural water filtration, and protection against aquifer depletion must also be considered.  With such a major development, these factors must also be addressed by many more people than Carlos Beruff or Larry Lieberman.

 

For these reasons, I plead with you to reject this self-serving amendment that benefits no one but Messrs. Beruff and Lieberman.

 

Sincerely,

 

David P. Hilsheimer

 

My Most Influential Teacher

As I think back over the teachers I had in high school and the professors I had in college, one truly stands out as having the most influence in my life.  As a teenager I tended to have a holier-than-thou attitude and felt my calling was to be a Methodist minister.  I idolized my folks' best friend and my baby sister's godfather, Ralph Haugh.  "Uncle Ralph", as he was known to our family, was a most congenial man and one who deserved adoration.

My family had moved to the Northern Virginia suburbs of Washington, DC when I was 10 and I quickly developed an appreciation of history.  It seems as though the only books I read were history books--the biography of George Washington being one I recall.  In fifth and sixth grades, we were always taking field trips, be it to Mt. Vernon or historic Fredericksburg, VA.  Mom and Dad were always taking us kids to various historical sites around the area, as well.

I entered tenth grade at Yorktown High School in Arlington and heard horror stories of the junior year American history teacher, David Turner.  Mr. Turner received the reputation of a hard taskmaster and one to be feared.  The last person I wanted as a history teacher was the dreaded Mr. Turner.  Guess who I got as my eleventh grade history teacher?  You got it--David L. Turner!  Gawd, did my eyes roll and a long sigh of regret let out when I saw he was to be my teacher.  Little did I know, he would turn out to change my life.

He was a proud graduate of Leland Stanford, Jr. University, or Stanford as we all know it.  He was an enticing teacher--one who kept you on your feet when he'd point to you and bark, "Why was that, Mr. Hilsheimer or Miss So-and-so?"  He made you think--something that served me well when I got to college.   I recall his describing the Battle of Gettysburg and the surrounding action.  It was like he had been there and witnessed the battle himself.  Keep in mind I was still planning on becoming a person of the cloth.  I was never one to volunteer anything, but just tried to be invisible, hoping he wouldn't turn around,  point a finger in my direction and put me on the spot.  One thing he did,  though, changed my life forever.

During the last half of the school year, everyone had been assigned to write a term paper.  My first choice was a  history of American railroading, a subject Mr. Turner said was much too broad and impossible for  a high school junior to consider.  I settled on the topic and title: "The Sharecropper During the Depression".  Due to plagerizing and term paper sales, the papers, once submitted, were not returned to the student.  Many's the time I wished I had it back  Anyway, I was quite graphic in my descriptions of what sharecroppers and their families had to endure.  In fact, I even quoted from the Depression era writer, Erskine Caldwell, telling of how babies had to suck on the teats of female dogs in order to get nutrition.  I knew I was skirting, if not going over, the line.  But what the heck?  This was a scholarly research paper, right?  I was prepared to catch it from Mr. Turner and would defend myself as best I could.

Yorktown HS had four wings--all one building-- that surrounded a large quad in the middle.  In  the week before finals, Mr Turner invited any who wished to participate to a review session to meet in the quad one evening.  As the session was winding down, he remarked about the term papers he had read and graded and made the observation that he had read one of the best term papers he had ever read in his career and was quite surprised at the scholarly level of its content.  Everyone started  looking around, wondering who he was talking about when Mr. Turner turned around, pointed at me, and said, "Mr. Hilsheimer over there!" and said he was very much surprised at my level of scholarly work.  I was completely flabergasted and tried to remain humble, something that was hard to do for an average teenager who was surrounded by A and B students, a few of which were National Merit Scholars.  That moment changed my life!

Afterwards, as I was trying to drift off to sleep on several occasions, I saw myself, not as a minister, but as a history teacher in the mold of Mr. Turner.  It finally dawned on me that, rather than majoring in religion with a view of becoming a Bible thumping preacher, I would major in history, primarily American, with a view toward teaching.  Although I never attained the goal of becoming a teacher (I could have taught in North Carolina, where I went to college at NC Wesleyan College), my love of American history, particularly the founding of the nation and presidential history, was the seed that was sowed and nurtured by Mr. Turner.  I only wish he knew what an effect he had on my life.  I never saw him  after graduation, my family having left the Northern Virginia area afterwards.  He passed away some years later, something I was sad to learn.  He will live in my heart forever and was a true mentor to me, although he never knew it.

Visits to Green Cathedrals

Besides the visits to current Major League ballparks, I have been fortunate to have visited many of the lost ballparks over my lifetime.

My first ballgame was between the Pirates and Redlegs (as they were known in the 1950s) at old Crosley Field in Cincinnati in 1953, the Redlegs winning 9-2. The following year my family moved to the Washington, DC area and I saw my first of many games at Griffith Stadium. Two games really stand out in my memory. The first one was in 1956 between the Senators and the Yankees. My favorite Senator, Jim Lemon, hit three homers off Whitey Ford and my favorite player, period, Mickey Mantle, hit his 48th homer of his Triple Crown season. In addition, President Eisenhower was at the game. How cool is that? The other game was the initial franchise game of the expansion Washington Senators (now the Texas Rangers)on April 10, 1961 and seeing Marty Keough getting the first hit in franchise history followed shortly thereafter by a Gene Woodling triple off the rightfield wall. The following year, 1962, saw the opening of D.C. Stadium, later renamed Robert F. Kennedy Stadium, at which I saw many a game, including the longest homer ever hit there--by Frank Howard, landing about halfway up in the upper centerfield stands.

In August 1964 I attended the New York World Fair. I was staying at a hotel near Shea Stadium and was able to take in a game between the Mets and the Braves. My folks had moved to Chicago so, in summers while going to college in North Carolina, I was able to attend several games at old Comiskey Park. I spent my career in Wisconsin, including 26 years in Madison. Consequently, I was able to take in numerous games at Milwaukee County Stadium. During a vacation trip to Seattle, I was able to take in a game at the old King Dome.

In addition to these old ballparks, I have been fortunate to be able to attend games at the current ballparks of Wrigley Field; Fenway Park; Miller Park in Milwaukee; Safeco Field in Seattle; Tropicana Field in St. Pete; and my latest one, Marlins Park in Miami. In addition to these, I was able to take a shortcut through Oriole Park at Camden Yard during the filming of "Major League II" in 1993.  Now being retired, I have had season tickets for the past four years to the Bradenton Marauders and their home, historic 90-year old McKechnie Field in Bradenton, FL.

The Worst Birthday Week of My Life

I celebrated my 69^th birthday a week ago on Sunday, St. Patrick’s Day, feeling optimistic that spring was almost here and baseball season would finally get underway.  I had been taking in Pittsburgh Pirates spring training games in anticipation of Opening Day on April 2^nd.  Unfortunately, the Pirates lost to the Damn Yankees that afternoon.  Little was I to know that was the first crack in the dam.  The deluge was yet to come.  That evening I talked with my brother, Gene, to see how things were going and he said Mom, who had been battling a kidney infection, was slipping a little bit, but there was no reason for concern.  I was planning on seeing her on Easter Sunday, taking her sister, Aunt Peggy, along with me.

Monday was uneventful for Pam and me.  My softball team had a bye, so I just enjoyed a relaxing day, running necessary errands and just vegging out.  All that changed on Tuesday.

My other softball team also had a bye and I was looking forward to another day of leisure.  That all changed around 9:30 when we got a call from our best friend, Linda’s, neighbor from across her street in Miami.  Lance told us that Linda had fallen and broken her kneecap the night before and was at North Shore Hospital in Miami Shores.  We got all the details he could give and told him we’d drop everything and come down to Miami later that day, after we made arrangements for some of our pets and got packed.  I made a few phone calls and we finally got underway around 2:30.  When we walked into Linda’s room around 7:00, she was so surprised to see us because our telling Lance we were coming down apparently didn’t register with him.

On Wednesday we got things set up at Linda’s and visited her in the hospital.  She was somewhat comfortable and looking forward to the surgery to repair her patella on Thursday.  Pam and I had some decisions to make.  I was scheduled to go to a regional Quaker gathering in Leesburg, FL which takes place the last week in March.  I still planned to go while Pam stayed with Linda.  However, Pam had tweaked her left knee while we were making preparations to depart for Miami, and it was giving her some problems.

Everything changed at 11:30 that evening when Gene, called to let me know Mom had died.  His exact words were, “We lost Mom.”  Although I was not shocked at her passing, I was surprised it happened so fast.  Later on, while talking with my sister, Margaret, she said the nurse had told her they fully expected her to last thru Easter.  I guess no one ever knows.  After a fitful three hours’ sleep, Pam and I were in a bit of a fog on Thursday, the day Linda was going to have her surgery.  The first thing I had to do, and the hardest thing I have ever had to do, was to call Aunt Peggy and tell her Mom had died.  Mom and Peggy were the only children of my grandparents, so it was quite hard on her. 

Linda was scheduled for surgery to repair the patella fracture at 2 PM and, when they came for her at 1 PM, we left and went back to Linda’s house.  Pam’s knee was becoming more and more painful and it was getting quite difficult for her to walk.  Since I had been planning on leaving Pam in Miami and return home before going to Southeastern Yearly Meeting (SEYM), I decided to cancel the gathering trip and remain in Miami.  However, since I only had packed meds to carry me through the end of the week, we decided I should return home, taking another of the dogs for boarding, pack for a longer stay in Miami and return immediately.

I left Linda’s early Friday morning, along with two of our dogs, Chloe and Frodo—Chloe for companionship and Frodo to join Archie and Bella at the vet’s office for the duration.  Upon reaching home, I called Linda’s to let them know I had arrived safely.  Linda had not yet returned home and Pam tearfully told me she was unable to walk because of the excruciating pain in her knee.  We had a walker at home which I had purchased for Pam to use year before last when she had suffered a compression fracture in her lower back.  I decided to bring it back to Miami for her to use.  After making arrangements to drop Frodo off at the vet’s for boarding, I did what I could to get things together for the trip back.

Leaving home early on Saturday, I arrived back at Linda’s around 11 AM.  Pam was in a lot of pain and, after getting settled back in, I took her to the ER at Aventura Medical Center to have her knee examined.  An x-ray was done and showed no fracture, but they could detect some deterioration to the cartilage.  The physician’s assistant who examined her said there could possibly be some meniscus damage and recommended she see an orthopedic surgeon for an MRI and full diagnosis.

Yes, it has been a challenging week.  I attended Meeting for Worship at the Miami Friends Meeting and that helped me quite a bit.  I was able to decompress a bit and shared my week with those present.  It felt a bit cathartic.  One of the women there, whom I did not know, came up to me at the rise of meeting and gave me a big hug.  That really felt welcoming and comforting.  We’ll be here in Miami for the foreseeable future and I expect to be worshiping with them for several more times.  In the meantime, onward and upward.

As a Quaker, I am as alarmed as anyone at the Newtown shootings as well as those that preceded that event.  As Clerk of the Sarasota Friends Meeting, I felt our meeting had a duty to make our voice heard in the current debate over whether gun control legislation should be enacted.  Quakers have a history of issuing resolutions, known as "Minutes", on matters of general concern.  With this in mind, I composed the following Minute, with some fine tuning by the Meeting's Peace and Social Concerns Committee, which was approved by the February 2013 Meeting for Worship with a Concern for Business:

Minute in Support of Gun Control

We, members and attenders of the Sarasota Monthly Meeting of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers), after prayerful reflection and thought, feel it incumbent on us to call upon Congress and the President to enact legislation to halt the production and sale of weapons that can be used to injure, maim and kill innocent people in a single instance.

As Quakers, we believe that there is that of God in every person and in particular, we eschew any violence directed at one human being by another.  We recognize that such is an unfortunate part of everyday life.  However, the instances of mass shootings have focused attention on the problem that our society and our lawmakers must address.  From the University of Texas, to Columbine, to Virginia Tech, to Fort Hood, to Aurora, to Newtown, the absence of meaningful gun control laws have allowed this national epidemic to gain a foothold.  We urge Congress to eschew the pressure and monies they receive from those in opposition to gun control and pass meaningful legislation to reduce if not eliminate these types of instances.

We recommend the following practical steps:

• There must be universal background checks on all persons who wish to purchase a firearm, not only from licensed gun dealers, but also at gun shows and in sales between individuals.  Sellers who fail to do background checks should be held accountable for any damage, death, or injury caused by their purchaser;
• The manufacture, sale, and distribution of all assault-type weapons must be immediately and permanently banned;
• Explosive bullets such as those used by the Newtown shooter are banned by the Geneva Convention in international warfare but are legal in the U.S.  This type of ammunition should be banned;
• Likewise, any ammunition clip that holds more than a minimal number of bullets should be similarly banned;
• A fund must be established to aid local agencies in the buyback and destruction of guns, with particular emphasis on assault-type weapons.

We reject the proposal by some who feel the answer lies in the posting of armed guards in every school and the arming of all teachers.  Adding guns raises the odds in favor of violence and does nothing to address the problem—that of keeping particularly deadly weapons out of the hands of irresponsible individuals.

We believe these reforms are in accord with the original and clear intent of the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.

On Being Likened to Adolph Hitler

One of my Facebook friends is a distant cousin whom I have never met, Conrad Hilsheimer.  He is the consummate conservative and I am the consummate liberal.  We enjoy yanking each other’s chain on a variety of political matters, starting in earnest with the 2012 general election.  Lately, however, it has taken a turn because of the current debate on whether there should be any gun control laws enacted or not.  Unfortunately, some of my friends pound on him and some of his friends pound on me, but the two of us respect the other and tolerate each other’s position. Today, though, a comment by another of my distant cousins hit me below the belt.  Conrad takes the position of the NRA that absolutely there should be no gun control laws enacted while I take the position that reasonable controls must be enacted—controls such as universal background checks and a limitation on the capacity of ammunition clips.

Late this week Conrad posted a photo on Facebook of a man bonding with his young son over a rifle.  I made a comment that the only beef I have is with those who want no background checks on gun buyers or other reasonable gun control legislation passed.  This morning, after signing onto F/B I am greeted with a response from another distant cousin, George von Hilsheimer, PhD who wrote: 

“Dave, how in the devil did you get Hilsheimer genes? You sound just like Adolph Hitler, "we German people are demonstrating our higher civilization by registering our guns, it is a civilized act. Well, the next civilized act was to collect all the guns. For me, try taking them from my cold, dead hands. George Sie werden zu shoen alt und zu schpaet schmart. And given that your genes are week, [sic] "You became too soon old, and too late smart. George”

This from a man who supposedly has a degree from Saybrook College in San Francisco and who also studied at the universities of Chicago and Miami (FL).  The only educational institution I could find is an online outfit named Saybrook University.  It has no campus or physical location I could find.  It could be located in San Francisco, someone’s garage, or Timbuktu for that matter.  I have a degree from North Carolina Wesleyan College, but I also studied at Rollins College, the University of Maryland, Florida State University, The Citadel, and the University of Wisconsin.

This afternoon I did a web search on this man and ran across an Orlando Sentinel story from 1992 about his being charged with practicing medicine without a license because he was accused of improperly performing the duties of a physician by diagnosing allergies.  Apparently he injected testosterone into a boy’s legs which nearly crippled him.  He agreed to a plea deal in which he was placed on two years’ probation and was prohibited from owning or administering any medical clinic.

In 1973 he had been arrested and charged with practicing medicine without a license at the former Green Valley School, which closed in 1974 after a U.S. Senate investigation into its practices and federal subsidies.  The charges were dropped on a technicality.  At the hearing, former nurses testified about the use of torture, mock funerals, injections of dust and testosterone, and other unorthodox methods of treatment.  After seeing a news story about this on The CBS News with Walter Cronkite, I asked my grandmother if we were related to George Von Hilsheimer.  She laughed and told me he was the black sheep of the family.  I certainly can believe it.  In fact, she told me that he added the “von” to his last name.  I’ll refrain from speculating on the reason.

In closing, while this man likens my views on gun control to those of Adolph Hitler (I am not against legal gun ownership), it would appear to this observer that his practices are more akin to those of Dr. Josef Mengele.  Let the reader be the judge.  I still believe that reasonable gun control legislation, including universal background checks, should be enacted. Oh, and by the way… I responded to the accusation that I sounded like Hitler by asking Cousin George that, as a psychologist, would he want to allow one of his patients to purchase a firearm for want of a background check?  I have yet to have a response.

What's the NRA Afraid Of?

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”  Thus says the Second Amendment.  What it does not say is that the right to keep and bear arms cannot be regulated.  Arch-conservative Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia has even indicated there is the possibility of gun control legislation that could pass the litmus test before the Supreme Court.  Whether it will or not remains to be seen.

The NRA and its minions are adamantly opposed to any gun control legislation.  However, they have no problem with various regulations that have been enacted for the safety of all persons.  Take, for instance, the right to operate a car.  Government requires that there be a minimum age for anyone who wishes to have a driver’s license.  If one does not have a license, it is illegal for that person to drive and there are consequences for that person.  The government can revoke a person’s right to drive a car if that person abuses their driving privileges.  Further, government can prescribe where one can drive—on the right side of the road; not against one-way traffic; and certainly not on a sidewalk.  It can also prescribe what to do upon encountering a stop sign or red light and how fast one can drive in any given area.

Governmental regulations also control, to the best it can, air safety.  It issues airworthiness certificates for any aircraft manufactured and flown within the United States; sets qualifications for pilots, including minimum and maximum ages (for commercial pilots); and institutes regulations and controls over whomever purchases an airline ticket, starting with the first hijackings and on down through the 9/11 attacks.  Everyone who wishes to fly on a scheduled commercial flight must deal with the TSA and be aware of what can and cannot be carried aboard the airplane.

The government also regulates the safety of our lives by promulgating regulations for the licensing of doctors and hospitals; issuing approval for new prescription medications; and food safety, among other things.

Governmental regulation, be it local, state, or national is a part of our everyday lives.  One cannot speed down Main St. in a NASCAR racecar.  One cannot break the sound barrier while flying down the length of Main St.  One cannot hang a shingle out on Main St and legitimately sell snake oil or practice quackery.  So, I ask, what’s the NRA afraid of?  It has grown beyond the scope of promoting gun and hunter safety, into a megalithic organization that sees absolutely no reason to agree with any reasonable regulation of guns, their equipment, their ammunition, or their owners, regardless of the consequences, be it in a crowded movie theater, a crowded bus, or an elementary school.  This I submit is wrong and until we can have some reasonable firearms regulation, starting with background checks on all gun purchasers and limiting the number and types of guns one can purchase, including their ammunition clips, the problem will not go away.  I do not want to take away their guns.  I only want society to be safe for everyone, not just the gun owners.