The Day It All Changed

Nineteen years ago, I was visiting my mother on my day off. Pregnant with my first (and to-be only child), we were having coffee and coffee cake as I turned the news on.

In one of New York City’s World Trade Towers, fire blazed out all the windows, high up on many of the floors. All the stations were covering what they knew of a plane having crashed into it. I called my husband and told him to turn on the tv. What station, he wanted to know. “It doesn’t matter.”

As we all watched, aghast, another plane crashed into the second tower.

Reality sank in. The country was under attack. But we were safe in Chicago. Weren’t we?

Daughter of the late Frederick P. Wiesinger, a structural engineer of some renown, I watched the firefighters and cops in their grim, desperate rush toward the madness, and realization shocked me like a slap of cold water: the towers were unstable and would collapse. The reporters continued their job, covering the non-stop chaos. Could I call New York and say what was obvious from this distance? Could I get word to the scene of the crimes, yell for my brother and sister first responders to ignore their training and their impulses to help, and NOT go in? I assessed the situation more somberly than anything in my own career: even if I could get through on a line, why would they listen to me, a far-away unknown?

I was a veteran Law Enforcement Officer. I had been a police dispatcher. Should I go to New York to help? Knowing New York, I could envision them telling me they could handle it. Should I go to work? My temporary ”confinement” (the antiquated term for pregnancy) assignment was in the Warrant Section at headquarters. I called; no, don’t come in. My supervisor had not yet heard the news; I explained it as swiftly and coherently as I could. No, they couldn’t foresee that I would be needed. There was nothing to do but look on with increasing anger.

Phones were down all over the greater NYC area, including to 9-1-1. The numbers hit home immediately: terrorists cut some of us off this exact day from those who could be reached for help at the same number. Planes were grounded, far from their planned destinations, at airports all around the world. I called work again. HQ felt confident Chicago was under control. I called the Red Cross, sure I could at least go give blood. No again. There were few drives going on, and none open for unscheduled donations anywhere. There was nothing I could do.

As we all watched in horror, the towers came crashing down. A mantle of dread, which I now never shed for long, descended on me. More accurately, it clobbered me.

* * * * * * * * *

A new age was, and remains, upon us.

I refuse to call it the age of fear.

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Right republican wrongs

For too long, Republicans have worried millions by labeling everything not on their agenda as “socialism.”
Many Democrats are taking that “hard left turn” (“For some Dems, left not right fit;” Chicago Tribune, Thursday 25 July 2019) in response to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report that we humans have, at best, 12 years to turn things around in the environment. This same terrifying piece does not say we have time to shrug and wait ’til Year 11, it says we might only have until next year to arrest carbon production’s rise before we arrive at the point of no return; the Potsdam Climate Institute’s Hans Joachim Schnellnhuber warns that the world may be mortally wounded by our negligence by 2020.
We have had zero support from the current White House occupant and his ilk, one of whom (the Environmental Protection Agency’s head) just this week refused to ban a bee-killing toxin. Known to damage children’s brains too, chlorpyrifos and the Administration are evil twin symptoms of what’s wrong in politics, especially on the right.
We can complain about a perceived mismatch between liberals and moderates, or we can all put our noses to the grindwheels and right the many wrongs we’ve generated. Without bees and other pollinators, people won’t have food. Commerce and industry cannot survive without the raw materials Earth provides. It’s beyond head-scratching that conservatives aren’t concerned about conserving the planet.
We are long overdue for a Green New Deal. Still all to true in the Republican playbook, all that matters is the money and power they and their cronies can get, how many new (read: improved and protective) regulations they can sink. This is madness, and it cannot persist.
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Meth and Marijuana, Mistakes and Messes

“Drug addicts hurt only themselves, if at all.” “Drug suppliers would not have to resort to illegal methods if their product was at the least decriminalized.” “There’s no problem with smoking or eating grass.”

This is not the late 1960s, with its common refrain of “Tune in, turn on, drop out.” The science behind basically everything is there to be known, more so than ever before.

Are drug use and delivery victimless crimes? Thinking they are is a huge impediment to law enforcement, and to public health, especially when it comes to methamphetamine, and even marijuana.

Meth is not a crime against persons such as rape or robbery. It is not a property crime along the lines of stealing your neighbor’s grill or car. But there are still victims.

Meth operations are never benign. The chemicals used to make it will seep into the soil, unless they are flushed into municipal sewers, to contaminate communities downstream. Akin to toxic waste dumps, meth labs require hazardous-materials responses by law enforcement and support agencies. They might become Superfund sites if they aren’t already, and that’s only if there are any Superfund monies left. The manufacture of meth results in hundreds or thousands of hours’ worth of clean-up, never done by the makers nor addicts themselves.

Chemicals found by law enforcement have to be stored securely, beyond mere lock and key, as evidence for the courts, for however long it takes. The toxins can’t be allowed to contaminate the storage facility, officers, or transport vehicles, or wherever it’s bound for once the court cases conclude. Officers and court personnel must be paid for their time; the meth operators, having contaminated matters, can’t have their property sold off to cover debts like a bank robber’s car might be.

Addicts need treatment for their woes, yes, but part of the punishment should be to force criminals and users to stay in prison for twice or thrice the time it takes for an effective cleanup, then afterwards be compelled to do the same amount of time in community service, cleaning up after someone else’s hellhole or a similar eco-catastrophe, to emphasize the fact that they have not committed “a victimless crime.”

But surely not marijuana? Oh yes, it’s almost as bad.

Even in states where marijuana has been decriminalized, illegal grows go on clandestinely, and crime persists; users get into car wrecks and fights. Places identifying on paper as members-only smoke clubs are run as businesses.

California conservation officers patrolling the Emerald Triangle — an area of fertile federal forest — also have to try to stop illegal weed grows. News flash for dealers: you have no right to use the public lands just as you please, to shoot at the biologists who must now arm themselves, travel in pairs and devote all their time not to research but to cleaning up your trash — your shit. That is not your land, or water, it’s public property!

Beyond humans who should only visit according to rules and regulations, it belongs to the animals that are supposed to live their own lives there. Growers have no business putting out rodent poison against the native critters — which, once eaten, can also kill the top predators, fishers. Fishers and owls, squirrels and field mice, all belong there — you do not. And pot smokers? Unless that’s some backyard bud in your pipe or papers, if you don’t know or care where it came from, you are part of the problem!

Marijuana smoking in teens is discouraged due to their brains still developing. I have noticed, as the years passed, that young men I knew who got into a habit of regular pot smoking, did not then age into adulthood gracefully, but were stuck as emotional yearlings; they remained wherever they were when they first started self-medicating their issues with pot.

Maybe marijuana can relieve pain or seizures, maybe it can’t. Maybe it urges people using it to commit suicide — or maybe it “only” does so in the already-depressed. So much more study is needed — not anecdotes. This is not something to be rushed, however much one may demand a license to grow or sell it. We have to get all the details right, right from the get-go.

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Trans Protections                                

The current administration would have us deny transgender individuals health care discrimination protections. On a related note are late-night infomercials that would have us believe the most serious problem society faces is unquestionably erectile dysfunction. Yet there is a far more serious ED, a looming environmental problem of our own making.

Endocrine disruptors such as atrazine, an herbicide, were in 2010 found responsible for feminizing frogs.  Other EDs  – and their name, unfortunately, is Legion (think DDT, polychlorinated biphenyls like bisphenol-A, and dioxins) – enlarge the prostates in male mice whose mothers or grandmothers were the ones exposed to low doses during their pregnancies, even at a rate 25 times lower that what the EPA — currently compromised like all of Trump’s appointees — would have us believe is the ED safety threshold.

What are endocrine disruptors – even those recently discovered as a part of diabetes medications – doing to humans? Are they creating boys who not only identify with girls, but are girls at heart? Do EDs cause deformities of human male sex organs?

Scientists funded by the government have found indisputable evidence of trouble, from hyperactivity to a rise in the risks of breast cancer to missing sex organs or parts thereof. Yet some politicians, in the polluters’ pockets, want us to shut up and let the chemical companies call the shots and make the laws weaker than the pittance we have now.

The United States imports or makes more than 70 million pounds of chemicals a day, most of which give no clue as to their amplifying or terrifying interactions together. Neither their makers nor we the people have any idea what these are, whether in combination with others, in what quantities, with our water or air or soil or with us, whether they are benign or horrors.

The chemical industry has been using the same tactics and lawyers from Big Tobacco’s stables, promoting misleading and patently false information, trying to pass it off as unbiased research.

Knowing many citizens have heard BPA can cause unwanted changes to fetuses, they claim there are safe plastics that are BPA-free.  There might be some without BPA, but they aren’t without problems of their own.

They want us to believe we can keep buying and using whatever we please in the way of takeout containers, blister packs, plastic picnic ware, everything from syringes to sippy cups. It isn’t so: a strain of rat for test subjects which, perversely, don’t respond to BPA-like synthetic hormones was used by the plastics manufacturers to skew the results. Even those few plastics made from corn – marketed as compostable and biodegradable – test positive 91% of the time for EDs or estrogenic activity.

For too long, corporations have been allowed to make and package at will, without any consideration for where the product/packaging winds up; microbeads of plastic have washed into the Great Lakes, drinking water for Chicagoland and millions more. The fleece garments we have come to think of as making winter bearable – made from recycled plastic bottles! – shed microfibers which form into rafts of plastics in the world’s waters, when we can be sure nothing is able to filter them out, another sacrifice Big Chem has forced on us, on the altar of their obscene profit margins. Companies which insist they must have plastic bottles should have from the beginning been taxed at a higher rate to ensure there was a way to safely dispose of them, which as of this writing does not exist. They should have been forced to pay for research into better materials, so that taxpayers would not be left holding the clean-up bag as we are now.

Pollution has for too long been something we were expected to endure, the price of progress. Why should any of us have to continue to suck it up?  The result is nothing better than that the often rich owners continue to ignore the messes their profitable enterprises have left behind, and if they do have a spill that can’t be contained, such as 2014’s thousands of pounds of coal ash, arsenic, and other heavy metals into the Dan River, the owners, in this case Duke Energy, attempt to shirk their responsibilities by declaring bankruptcy! Union Carbide tried to pay off those Indian victims in Bhopal, still the worst industrial disaster in the world. Apparently no-one ever taught any of them we all have to clean up after ourselves.

A partial solution (for now) is for all communities to return immediately in some ways to the past’s better techniques: a bottle bill encouraging people to bring their glass bottles back to the point of sale for a small deposit would lessen litter and landfill, create jobs, and make plastic soda and beer bottles and milk jugs an unpleasant and eventually distant memory. We cannot continue to be lazy and pollute each other because plastics are lighter and they have been allowed to be cheaper.

In China and India, the one-child rule means the preference for sons has resulted in millions of female infanticides, as it has in other developing countries. The son preference is itself a throwback to past centuries and sometimes seems unstoppable. In the US, about a third of all pregnancies result in the embryo’s or fetus’s death, some before the woman knows she is pregnant; approximately another 20% result in a not-optimally healthy child.

Of the ones that didn’t make it, an increasing number were male. Since 1970, Japan and the U.S. are “missing” more than a quarter-million boys – those that should have been expected but were never born or did not thrive past infancy (from Poisoned For Profit: How Toxins Are Making our Children Chronically Ill by Philip and Alice Shabecoff, 2010).

Every single embryo starts off with the same plumbing, and will become itself depending on what hormones or chemicals it is exposed to and when, while in utero. So the greater question for all societies is this: if it is our industries which, in pumping largely untested and unregulated chemicals into the water and air, causing fetuses’ gender dysphoria, if there is even a chance these chemicals, singly or in action with others, cause harm, and the offenders continue to operate with no regard for anything but their bottom line, why don’t governments force them to stop?

Recently New Zealand afforded a river the same protections as people. Instead of claiming to be able to “pray away the gay” or continuing to blame the victims of poisoning – actual or suspected, for how they turned out — when will we get a spine and indict those responsible for these damages?

People who are different did not choose to be that way. No-one should hate them or judge them for how they were born – nor deny them the same health care rights “normal” people feel entitled to. We must also get beyond saying “Well, she’s somebody’s daughter,” or “he’s my neighbor’s son,” and speak the universal truth: each of them is someone’s child, relative or other beloved one.

There must be a paradigm shift; politicians must immediately pivot from protecting the chemical makers to protecting soil, air, water, all people, and the rest of the plant and animal world we depend on.

If you own a factory that makes these products, use better and non-toxic source materials and packaging. If you’ve been buying the products with unpronounceable ingredient names or unknown ingredients for yourself or your family, follow our great-grandparents’ adage: “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” Stop blaming and punishing those you find unbearably different – take a deep breath, and work on your own transgressions!

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The shame of ShamWow

Not all that long ago, a Tribune columnist (a man) extolled the so-called virtue of ShamWow towels as a diaper. Had he advocated child abuse I could not have been more horrified.

Baby pee is not “biohazardous” stuff, as he blithely put it, though the ShamWow — still for sale through direct mail — could very well be.  Nothing could be stupider that to put unknown chemicals next to a baby’s tender skin!

Don’t be like that guy, who either hasn’t heard of the link between various man-made substances (e.g. synthetic estrogen) and the decrease in average size in boys’ genitals –or a lazy moron who doesn’t care if there is, so long as he gets his 15 minutes of fame.

ShamWow Guy’s wife divorced him in 2018. Was it related to his having punched out a prostitute for allegedly biting his tongue during a drinking binge? Hard to say. But by then he and the ShamWow had fallen off the map. Good.

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Indiana Dunes: America’s Newest National Park

This gallery contains 14 photos.

Originally posted on Openlands:
On February 15, 2019, Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore was upgraded to a National Park, the country’s 61st. The greater Chicago region now has a National Park. Members of the Indiana and Illinois conservation communities have worked…

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Good Garden People: Also Good for Business!

It has happened to anyone who participates in any group that goes out to eat even once.  The bill comes, is passed around for review, money is collected – and a discussion ensues over who owes how much more for what, or hard feeling are hidden over the one(s) who didn’t pay quite enough.  Usually the larger the group, the more the bill falls short, and the longer it takes to straighten out.

One season, Kilbourn Organic Greenhouse’s volunteers took a series of field trips to interesting gardens, architectural sites and related environs.  I knew the others – slightly – but in the spirit of camaraderie, I offered to drive as many as would fit in our Suburban to that week’s feature, a big Wisconsin nursery almost two hours away.

The drive was uneventful, with people chatting and sharing garden tips.  After an informative tour, there was room for each person to stash a flat of plants in the car’s
“way-back”.  The final stop was lunch at a nearby pizza place.

The moment of truth came; the tension is the air was palatable, because the gratuity wasn’t included.  Would the waitress get the short end of the stick?  Of fourteen people, who would pretend she’d hardly eaten anything, and so owed next to nothing, leaving the rest to scramble for spare change?

The bill made the rounds, money appeared and was piled up.  Someone counted it.              There was too much!

A discussion ensued, but in an atmosphere of joviality: we were good souls.  Each woman got a dollar or so back and the waitress got a big tip.  The huge sigh of relief I breathed was heard only by myself.  I would go out again anytime with this bunch!

As I reflect on that day and those people, it seems likely that — just as good garden souls putting nutrients on a bed say to it “A little extra compost may help, and anyway, it won’t hurt,” so, too, the garden group said “Oh, well, dear, a little extra money from me might help, and won’t hurt in any event.”

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To Gawk, or to Render Aid?

Once upon a time, the New Yorker magazine asked, What was everyone else on the platform (where a man from Queens was pushed over the edge then struck by a train) doing?  Later in the piece they mentioned Wesley Autrey, who saved a man having a seizure from being mowed down by another train.  While the editorial was mainly to call attention to spectators, who mostly used to “stand and gawk…Now, apparently, we point and shoot,” they missed something crucial.
Autrey was a Navy veteran. All branches of the service demand extensive training in how to overcome the feeling that one is fearful for one’s safety and frozen in shock, and what actions to take instead. While I have not had the Navy’s training, in thirty-plus years with the Chicago Police Department I have been in my share of hair-raising scrapes and learned one crucial point: people who can be effective heroes learn to go toward trouble with an instinct to right it.
British Girl Guides and others daily beat back fear and struggled in myriad ways through World War II. I always sought to prepare my Girl Scouts for trouble, beginning with First Aid and teambuilding.  
For good or ill, not everyone has been trained to fight, or how to react appropriately, and not everyone can overcome the flight-or-freeze impulse. Let’s note this is not the same as those safe in their snug apartments, who, on hearing Kitty Genovese scream, did not even summon help. An onrushing train will put even the most stout heart in fear of mortal peril; watching in horror in that case was likely a healthy, instinctive safety mechanism.

Those who have grown accustomed to pointing their cameras and clicking pictures extensively have, regrettably, given themselves a new impulse. Doubtless many New Yorkers were following that very thoughtlessness on that sad day on the subway.  Running to the scene of the tragedy and taking pictures rather than offering assistance is always inexcusable; it demonstrates how badly they need basic training of the kind offered by the Scouts, the Red Cross, and related groups.
Let those prone to gawk put away their devices and sign up post haste.
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Life & Virtue: Old & New

Animals die

Kinsmen die

All things we know must die

This alone can never die

The good name of a person.

(ascribed to Odin)

Manafort lied

Cohen lied

Trump as we know also lied

This alone can never lie

Robert Mueller


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Why are you buying dolls again?

He was born first, with nine more following in fairly steady succession. there were supposed to be three more, but when his mother was pregnant with the twins she got mugged for the one dollar she was taking to the store to buy milk with. From the attack they were born alive in the Chicago snow then died of exposure. Before that her own mother-in-law spitefully flung open a heavy door and the massive iron handle struck her in the abdomen and she miscarried that singleton.

The four sisters of course all played with dolls.

An abuelita as the years passed, his mother, when asked what she wanted for her birthday, answered “A doll.” She and her birth family were always so poor that as a child she could never have a doll. Her son got her a doll.

As a youngster and as a teen he would get mad at his sisters and rip the heads off their dolls, the girls crying bitterly. To two or three of them, now they are all adults, he has abashedly offered his apologies.

At the end of his mother’s life there was tremendous discord: one brother had cheated her out of her house, another claimed she had appointed him medical power of attorney, and no he wouldn’t let the eldest see their mother in the hospital. The financial flim-flammer preceded her in death by a year, the oldest paying for his mass and burial. No-one would give the doll back to their sibling, the man who bought it, and it was never to be seen again.

This oldest child had a child late in life, and he bought her dolls, just as he had for the previous two from the previous wife. The last daughter was a tomboy; she did not even like dolls. After several attempts went scorned, he finally stopped buying them.  Some time later she allowed as how scared she’d been because of some horror-movie doll she had seen once on television; the young adult knowledge of what had triggered a doll-aversion did nothing to rekindle fond wishes for one.

And so he buys dolls now and then, for himself, for the Christmas tree, he claims.

I think they are atonements.


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