A blog about History and Life Observations

Month: January 2021

History- A Mirror and A Teacher— The Humble Art of Coping

2020 / TYLNO (The Year Like No Other) and beyond has continued to provide fertile ground for an examination of the worst angels of our collective nature taking root and flourishing. Often, it can be helpful and instructive to look back rather than forward as it is difficult if not impossible to understand where we are without a clear and thorough understanding of where we have been. Tearing down statues and vestiges of our past (both literally and figuratively), is all well and good if in fact we feel as though the passage of time has inexorably led to a perfection of the human condition and spirit which would suggest a moral high ground. Which in turn, allows us to view ourselves as superior and in fact complete, no longer an imperfect work in progress. Unfortunately, for those who would be inclined to think this way, I would suggest the past is prologue; we learn from it in a manner that is nuanced, layered, and complex. A belief that the passage of time leads to better, smarter, more evolved people, in some kind of linear trajectory, is simply an exercise in hubris and self-aggrandizement that is open to challenge and refute.

The best example I have found to truly explain and understand History as a conceptual science is to examine the BACK OF YOUR HANDS as you age. For the younger readers, this will not yet resonate but trust me, it will. Because our hands are such utilitarian instruments, we see them all the time, yet we hardly notice them unless urged to do so. Over time they change in ways we can hardly imagine. The veins become far more apparent, the skin begins to wrinkle, the tendons start to show, and the color begins to change. This is HISTORY up close and personal and it smacks one in the face rather than nudges one on the shoulder. With the passage of time, styles shift, buildings age, streets change, and the heroes of the past can become the villains of the present; it is important to remember that History has this cognitive aspect as well. And, significantly, no one is going to convince me that an electronics obsession that includes staring into a cell phone incessantly and divisive, narcissistic, Social Media reliance is representative of a society that is operating on an intellectual level which is worthy of judging or critiquing the zeitgeist of the past in a sanctimonious manner. For me, that concept is actually laughable.

Emily Post is a name that few readers under 50 would recognize most likely and yet, she had an amazing influence on our American culture. As a matter of fact, she finished second to Eleanor Roosevelt as the most powerful woman in America (as chosen by Pageant Magazine) in 1950. Pretty remarkable, in light of the fact, that Eleanor Roosevelt was the wife / partner of a man / President who had led America through the gut-wrenching rigors of The Great Depression and World War II. This former First Lady had quite a personal resume as well, so the prominence of that selection is noteworthy and deserving of further examination.

 Emily Post was born in Baltimore, Maryland in 1872 into a life of wealth and ease. She could have easily and breezily drifted through an existence of quite comfortable obscurity. Instead, she became the champion for a now little-known concept “etiquette.”

Merriam-Webster defines etiquette as “the conduct or procedure required by good breeding or prescribed by authority to be observed in social or official life.”

I like this definition a little better- “the technique of human conduct in all circumstances of life..”

I know what you are thinking. Why should we in 2021 care about “good breeding” and which fork to use with our salad at dinner? Sounds like “white privledge” stuff to me? Well, in my humble opinion you would be very wrong indeed.

Etiquette in a utilitarian sense refers to a system of morals and manners crafted to help people of vastly different persuasions (and yes ethnic backgrounds) cope with a changing America in and around a period known as The Gilded Age (1877-1900) and the conclusion of World War I (1914-1918). The Gilded Age was characterized by a period of rapid economic growth primarily in the northern and western parts of the country which included a massive influx of European immigrants in response to this expansion, and in turn, a time of abject poverty for many as the country grappled with the integration of so many new arrivals. And, yes, it was not all altruism and good outcomes (despite lots of social reform); there was plenty of inequality as the newcomers were the bottom of the totem pole in terms of economic opportunity. Still, they came BECAUSE America was a MILLION times better than the places they fled. We should never forget this and moreover, we should remember it today for those who choose to see this country as racist and irredeemable.

The idea of etiquette ultimately came about near the turn of the century as a clash of old money versus new money in an environment that was unlike anything America had seen in her short history as a country. It was, for better or worse, the birth of the modern industrialized world. World War I provided a truly cataclysmic, tragic world event that further challenged and dislocated societal norms. Etiquette was a creation of the “haves,” yet it has, over the years, had something to benefit all. The term Gilded Age (which was in fact a critical one) wasn’t actually used until around the time of Post’s publication (1922) of Etiquette, in Society, in Business, in Politics, and at Home. It later came to be known as simply Etiquette and has been in publication since (19th edition). In Emily Post’s own words, she gets to the true heart of etiquette with the following statement.

“Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.”

It has in fact been stated by some that etiquette is and should be an artifact of a bygone era, just like the Bible and The Ten Commandments; It is about little, inconsequential, meaningless trifles that have become antiquated in our fast-paced, connected world. Oh really… I would suggest that a little etiquette is exactly what we need right now to deal with the discord and acrimony that are such a commonplace part of our everyday life. Emily Post speaks of such things as handwritten thank you notes, polite conversation, and the proper way to conduct human contact that shows respect and honor to friends and associates. Yes, it is very formalized and elaborate. Perhaps, the loss of these formalities has been a greater loss than we realize. Consider the way that correspondence used to include an opening “Dear” and a closing “Sincerely” for example. These are small subtle details that connotated the aforementioned respect and honor.

Emily Post saw a society that was lurching toward something that suggested a loss of control with respect to the way people in a changing America were engaging, and she set about the task of suggesting some rules of interaction. Sound familiar in a clarion call kind of way? This interpretation may be overly simplistic and again it is true that her target audience was a mostly affluent one. Nevertheless, the message is a good one. The seemingly trivial habits and protocols matter more than we realize; morals and manners are important and coexist in a symbiotic way. Pretty empty to practice and profess to have one without the other tagging along; Emily Post pointed this out for the world to see. And the world has never stopped looking in updated versions over the years since its publication. There is a reason that The Ten Commandments have had an even greater (though now diminished unfortunately) staying power. Human interaction has always existed in a fragile state of equilibrium between good and evil. You would be free to dispute that supposition, but please do not use History as a support for your argument.

A.A. (Alan Alexander) Milne was born in London in 1882. Milne is best known as the creator of Winnie The Pooh, Christopher Robin, and their menagerie of friends in something known as The Hundred Acre Woods. What most people don’t know is that Milne’s personal life provides a wonderful example of how history instructs and teaches in the present tense; note that Milne was a contemporary of Post. The middle portion of the Victorian Era (1832-1901) is often seen as a period synonymous in some ways with the Gilded Age in America. It was also a time of great political, economic, and social change that ushered in a call for higher moral standards by many. Granted, this is a somewhat flawed comparison as England was a mature country and America was in an early adolescent stage, yet the comparison is instructive, nonetheless. Both countries were dealing with massive dislocation and change and were seeking ways to make sense of it all as many of us are doing today in our highly polarized country.

 “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” Mark Twain

Milne started out as a mathematician but gradually shifted towards a literary career. After earning a Mathematics degree at Trinity College in Cambridge, Milne moved to London and took a writing job with the satirical magazine Punch in 1906. In 1914 he enlisted in the Royal Warwickshire Regiment to fight in World War I and would participate in the Battle of The Somme in 1916. This is no small, inconsequential statement; The Battle of The Somme was, in many ways, a battle like no other as it was sheer carnage and horror for those unfortunate combatants on both sides. It was a battle conceived to hasten the end of the war and it was partially successful, yet the cost was frightful. Incredibly, the British and the French soldiers looking to drive the Germans out of France were in large part comprised of soldiers who were facing combat for the first time. The campaign lasted better than six months and of the roughly three million soldiers who participated, over one million were killed or wounded, making it one of the bloodiest battles in human history.

The latter stages of The American Civil War (1861-1865) have been referred to as a dress rehearsal for World War I. In that American war, as in this battle, trench warfare and a set of tactics that were completely inappropriate and ill-suited to the realities and sophistication of the weaponry involved were on full display. Massed troops would charge pell-mell into fortified positions inhabited by soldiers armed with rapid-fire machine guns. The results were predictable and yet the tactics stubbornly and inexplicably persisted. Many of the units were composed of friends from the same town. In one truly poignant example a battalion from the 11th East Lancashire England, fighting on the first day started with 720 and lost 584 for an 81% casualty rate. To put this into proper perspective, the D-Day invasion soldiers who stormed the beaches of Normandy, France in 1944 during World War II, suffered an approximately 40% casualty rate. This senseless human carnage was the reality of World War I in general, and the battle of the Somme in particular. Milne could count himself as one of the “fortunate” ones as he was seriously injured, sent home, and recovered. Many of his closest friends were killed and gravely wounded. Can you imagine what he saw, the fear he must have felt, the loss he must have suffered through, and the long-term psychological consequences he must of have battled. I can’t either yet, I can tell you this horrific experience shaped the course his postwar life would take and inspire the beautiful words he would later share with the world.

“Believe it! You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and loved more than you’ll ever know.” A. A. Milne (Christopher Robin in Winnie The Pooh- 1926)

“I’m not lost for I know where I am. But however, where I am may be lost.” A.A. Milne (Winnie The Pooh in Winnie The Pooh 1926)

“You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.” (Winnie The Pooh in Winnie The Pooh 1926)

These words seem to have much to do with the convalescence of a man attempting to heal from the events of 1916 France and not simply the creation of an entertaining tale for his son. Words can be tonic, and it is important to remember that an idea of post traumatic shock syndrome didn’t exist at that time. The war was over, you had survived while many had not, and it was time to move on, seemed to be the therapeutic mantra in those days. It appears to me that Milne had certainly not tidily exorcised the terrible demons of his past and he set about to vanquish them in the only way that he knew, words and stories. It has been suggested by later psychological analysis that each of the unique characters represented an aspect of PTSD.  

“It’s been theorized by Dr. Sarah Shea that Milne wrote into each character of Winnie-the-Pooh a different psychological disorder. While only A. A. Milne could tell us for certain, Dr. Shea’s theory seems pointed in the right direction, but may be a little too impersonal. After all, the book was written specifically for one child, by name, and features the stuffed animals that the boy loved.

It’s more likely, in my opinion, that the stories were a way for Milne to explain his own post-traumatic stress to his six-year-old son. Every stuffed friend in the Hundred Acre Woods is a child-friendly representation of a characteristic of post-traumatic stress. Piglet is paranoia, Eeyore is depression, Tigger is impulsive behaviors, Rabbit is perfectionism-caused aggression, Owl is memory loss, and Kanga Roo represent over-protection. This leaves Winnie, who Alan wrote in for himself as Christopher Robin’s guide through the Hundred Acre Woods — his father’s mind.”   

Eric Milzarski- April of 2020.

Yes only Milne knows for sure. I would continue to suggest that the writing, at least subconsciously, may have been more for himself than his son. His words became his coping therapy / cure in much the same way that powerful pharmaceutical drugs are used today in our name it, blame it, tame it protocol with regard to disease, be it mental or physical. Coping with severe psychological trauma is not new; the methods employed are quite different and I am not so sure it is a black/white conclusion that the modern methods are superior. I am no doctor, merely a keen observer of some of the trends that are emerging. Long contemplative walks in nature and the balm of expressing heartfelt words on paper as a strategy in response to the emotional traumas of life seems to be making a comeback. Milne experienced something far beyond the understanding / coping abilities of 99.9% of the population of course. And, yet he set about the task with the tools of the day.   

Ironically, the very words and stories that may have assuaged his trauma, created further inner turmoil as he saw himself as a serious writer and the success of Winnie The Pooh and his various friends typecast Milne as a children’s writer despite his many attempts to resuscitate the former (with only modest success), something he regretted terribly for the rest of his life despite the enormous financial success. And fame for both he and his son (the model for Christopher Robin). A fame that for his son proved to be a somewhat devastating thing. The following statements really sum up the depth of this unintended consequence.

“I feel that the legal Christopher Robin has already had more publicity than I want for him. I do not want CR Milne to ever wish that his name were Charles Robert.” A.A. Milne

 “It seemed to me almost that my father had got to where he was by climbing upon my infant shoulders, that he had filched from me my good name and had left me with the empty fame of being his son.” Christopher Robin Milne

 Life is funny, and often in a sad, incomprehensible, unintended way. Milne had managed to provide countless people around the world with something poignant and lovingly tender, and yet the personal familial cost, we now know was rather significant. I know that my two daughters were fans growing up and on more than one occasion I can remember enjoying it as much as them and drawing much needed solace from the simplicity and innocence of Walt Disney’s rendition of Milne’s creation. Near the end of A.A. Milnes’ life his son would visit him occasionally yet subtle animosity on the part of C.R. Milne seemed to continue to simmer over the years.  

As previously mentioned, I realize it is popular and perhaps ingrained in us to believe that the passage of time leads to a progression of thought and intellect. I have also suggested that there is pretty strong evidence that this is patently untrue, at least in any kind of linear, distinguishable pattern. Instead, I believe that we learn from the past in a manner that attempts to lessen the possibility of repeating mistakes from the past. We rarely, if ever look at the past and ponder the possibility that our approach and strategies with respect to something commonplace yet epic, like War, Poverty, Mental Trauma, and Loss, was better in the past than it is in the present. I would suggest that this is precisely what we should be more open to do. Moreover, we should shy away from confronting something distasteful in our past and view erasure as the remedy to heal the wound or right the wrong. “Judge not lest ye be judged” might be a helpful aphorism from our Judeo-Christian past which could be instructive for the lofty heights of 2021 and Woke ideology. People in the past got it wrong despite the best of intentions, just like people now will get it wrong. Humans are fallible creatures. The passage of time has no ability to change that great Truth.  

Consider the example of Albert Einstein. Though never on the faculty of Princeton University, Einstein had an office in the mathematics department during the 1930’s and was, by then, a renowned scientist who had accomplished a great deal including his astonishing theories of special and general relativity for which he is most famous. In 1938, the freshman class at Princeton University chose Albert Einstein as the second greatest living person in the world. Quite an accomplishment, unfortunately the first choice was none other than Adolf Hitler. As the saying goes, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Perhaps we should cancel Princeton University for this sin of nearly 83 years ago.

Instead, I feel it would be wise to humbly submit to the idea that our future will almost certainly provide revelations and examples to future generations of how we got it wrong in ways we can only speculate now. History has a funny way of embodying another interesting aphorism, “what comes around goes around.” The past provides a treasure-trove of knowledge and insight for both the times we get it wrong and the times we get it right. Maybe, just maybe, Emily Post and AA Milne were imperfect, though exceptional human beings who can provide a few lessons with respect to how we should cope and navigate the 21st century and beyond. As for Albert Einstein, the trend continues to look promising. As for Princeton University, I won’t say anything if you don’t.

Thomas M. Cook

February 1, 2021

Brushes With The Unspeakable Postscript

Over the last few days of 2020 I was surprised to hear from Tracy Magdalene who plays a prominent yet anonymous role in my piece entitled Brushes With The Unspeakable. The story talks of three instances in my life in which I was indirectly thrust into circumstances which were both violent and tragic. I was on the periphery, just close enough, but not so close (“brushes”), in that my life was affected in any tactile manner other than to feel extreme sympathy for the people who were directly impacted. One feels the sympathy and then life goes on; that is the human way for better or worse. Tracy was one of the people who was directly impacted in the most visceral fashion imaginable. I probably did not think of her enough (then or now), though I never knew her name or intimate, personal story until just recently. Tracy lived through a terrible tragedy and came out the other end in much the same way that Ernst Hemmingway stated in A Farewell To Arms.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”

Imagine losing someone in the manner that events unfolded on that morning of January 31st, 1989. I encourage my readers to go back and read Brushes With The Unspeakable armed with this new information. Interestingly Tracy and I did speak today by phone and I was truly honored to hear that my story actually helped her to feel a better sense of comfort and closure relative to the human tragedy that unfolded; there is nothing more gratifying for a writer. I am still a bit unsure how my story helped, I am simply happy that it did, and I am buoyed by the human connection, made possible under the worst of circumstances. Tracy’s story is one of triumph as she did not lean into hate. In fact, she actually found a sense of compassion that was not, understandably, initially there. Roberta Pearce remains in prison at age 73 and the young killers were (apparently) freed at the age of 25 and have faded into oblivion (changed names, altered identities, and one would assume, saddled with the guilt of youth, now understood through the wisdom of age). No one will truly know how they actually feel. Except themselves… We are left to speculate.

Life is not fair, nor is it easy to understand. I do believe that things happen for a reason and that there are no coincidences. Only God knows the answers to the unknowable in our human existence. I am truly gratified by the blessings and opportunities afforded to me in this life; our family has experienced tragedy nonetheless, as we lost a precious young neice in a devastating accident several years ago. Terrible things can happen to any of us at any time, and yet there is abundant good. Moreover, History teaches all of us that the realities of man’s inhumanity to man truly knows no bounds, yet, we are still connected somehow in a way that is difficult to articualte yet easy to sense in the few remaining, quiet, uncluttered parts of our minds and souls.

12/31/2020 TMC

From: Tracy Magdalene wordpress@inveteratethinkerer.com
Sent: Wednesday, December 30, 2020 11:32 AMComment: Good Afternoon – I just read the blog post entitled Brushes with the Unspeakable, and I learned of the writer’s brush with the 1989 murder on Carol View Drive in Cardiff. I am very much interested in speaking with the writer because I am the woman with whom Wayne Pearce was involved at the time of his death. I know intimately the scene he describes upon his return to the complex, as I, too, had arrived to the same scene. This January will mark the anniversary of Wayne’s death. Roberta Pearce is still in a woman’s prison at the age of 73 (I just checked last week). I have had no connection with anyone who knows of this important and tragic event, and I would like to. I can be reached at the above email address. Thank you for your consideration.

Hi Tracy,

Wow.

Thank you for reading my write up on this. What a sad time that must have been for you.

Do you still live in the San Diego area? I can’t even imagine how you coped with something like that.

I would be very interested in hearing the events as they unfolded after the murder. The dissemination of news was so different then. Thank you again for reaching out and sharing the connection.

Best,

Thomas M. Cook

Hi Thomas

Thank you so much for responding! I was intrigued by your article, and I’m surprised I didn’t come across it sooner. I have never spoken with anyone who had a connection to this event, and your description of what you saw upon coming back from your run was so vivid for me. I’m so very glad you wrote this, and I am so very glad that you were not harmed, in any of the three incidents in which you came so very close to being in harm’s way.

My life was thrown into some chaos on January 31st, to be sure. I was just 24 years old at the time; Wayne was some years older than I. We were very much in love, though, in that new, kind of euphoric way that is common to new relationships. Our roommate, Pamela, is the one who called the police/ambulance as I was in San Diego for a breakfast meeting that began at 6:00 am. Every Tuesday. I would come home right afterward and change my clothes to go to work. I came home to the same scene that you did. Pam also called my parents, and my father flew the both of us home to Massachusetts, and then Pam flew to her home in Texas after a week in MA with me. I haven’t seen her or spoken to her since, with the exception of seeing her and spending time with her throughout the trial a year later. The majority of my time, though, was spent with the detectives, the prosecutor, and Wayne’s family. Oddly, I found myself feeling incredibly sorry for the two boys during the trial. They were so amped up on drugs and excited about the prospect of coming into a bunch of money. Roberta was their teacher, and to use that kind of authority to exploit them was and is unforgivable. To me. I look her up every year about this time. I don’t know why, but I just do. Other than that, I rarely think of her.

I should say that I have healed over Wayne’s death and how it came about, with some effort, some work, and with a lot of support from family and friends. I’ve been living in Northampton, MA ever since February of 1989, and I practice as a criminal defense lawyer in Springfield, MA. Your brush with the unspeakable in Boston also hit close to home because we seem to share a connection with Massachusetts as well. Although, two out of three close calls and I’m sort of connected to both? I’m glad the third had nothing to do with me. (A little bit of dark humor, here).

I did learn some things about what had actually taken place in the weeks/days prior to Wayne’s murder. Anthony Pilato and Isaac Hill (with Roberta’s help, of course) planned to shoot Wayne, and they had shown up at our apartment with that intention should he answer the door when they knocked. I, however, answered the door, and they asked for a person who didn’t live there, so I sent them on their way without another thought. You’re right. Sometimes we just don’t know how close we come to harm, and I, too, wonder if divine intervention steps in, if it’s a coincidence that makes us go left instead of right, or if we’re all just batshit crazy and winging it all the time. But it’s worth noting that their failed attempt that one evening brought them back to the apartment building on the morning at which you encountered your close call.

I would really like to discuss your experience over the telephone if you would be willing. Please know that it was just so shocking to see that article today, and it was also so comforting for some strange reason — that there’s someone out there who was there, like I was. If you wouldn’t be inconvenienced, would it be alright if I called to just chat for a few moments? If so, please let me know the best day and time. If you’re on the west coast, there’s the three hour time difference to consider. My cell is ———. Feel free to email or text. If you’d rather not, or if you think I’m some kind of crazy nut job, I get it. No worries.

In the meantime, please know that I am thankful for your article, so thank you ever so much for writing it. Finally, I’d just like to say that even though I don’t know you, I am happy that you are alive and well. I can’t help but think that things unfolded for you as they should have, whatever that means.

Be well,

Tracy