Kauai

          Following up on last week’s article about our vacation to Kauai, I thought I’d share a few more of our weeklong experiences with you.

Without question if you are going to ever visit this Hawaiian Island known as the “Garden Isle,” you must visit the Wiamea Canyon. This amazing formation on the west side of the island has become known as the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific.” The only way to get there is to drive around the southern end of the island where you pick up the Wiamea Canyon Drive which heads straight north along the western rim of the canyon. Part way up the climb you connect with Kokee Road which takes you to the end of the climb which tops out at more than 5,000 feet. There were numerous turnouts, providing spectacular vistas over the canyon. Even on a rainy overcast day such as we had for this venture, it was magnificent. The Wiamea Canyon is made up of a long gorge extending in a south-north direction. On the mid-to-upper end are five gorges which extend like fingers on a hand in a slightly southwest-to-northeast direction. Several in our party had come fully prepared to hike some of the trails, but with the wet conditions the footing was a bit treacherous. Perhaps next time!

Isaura and I launched out on our own one afternoon heading for the Kilauea Lighthouse which is situated on the northernmost point of the island. The way the Hawaiian Islands are formed, this makes the Kilauea Lighthouse the northernmost point of all the islands. I was chatting with one of the volunteer park rangers (retired Navy guy) who shared a fascinating story with me. He told me that back in the 1920s Army pilots had been miffed by all the attention Charles Lindbergh received for his historic solo flight across the Atlantic on May 20, 1927, a flight of just over 3600 miles. Army Air Corps pilots had been flying these distances, but they received no recognition for their feat because they had flown over land. Well, on June 29, 1927, five weeks after Lindbergh’s historic flight, 1st Lt. Lester J. Maitland and 1st Lt. Albert F. Hegenberger completed the first transpacific flight, from California to Hawaii, a distance of slightly more than 2400 miles. What makes this story so interesting is that these two aviators almost perished in the Pacific by very nearly overshooting the islands. As they were making their flight at night they were using star navigation. However, they realized they had miscalculated and were off their mark. Just before sunrise and dangerously low on fuel, they happened to recognize the “double flash” from the Kilauea Lighthouse. They made a ninety degree turn to the south, safely landing. My new park ranger friend then informed me that the navigator on the flight, 1st Lt. Hegenberger, later entered the ministry as an Episcopal priest. I can see why! Had they not spotted the beam of light from the lighthouse, these two pilots would have met with disaster. I’m sure these men knew God had a hand in their safe arrival.

Perhaps the best experience of all was the Smith Family Garden Luau. I know what you’re thinking – “Smith? Did he say Smith? That’s not Hawaiian!” Well, a gentleman by the name of Smith traveled from his home in England to Kauai where he met and fell in love with a Hawaiian lass. They began a luau for tourists which has continued for more than 50 years, all run by family members. This luau is the most popular on the entire island, which means you need to call in for reservations. Our party of nine showed up along with 570 other interested diners. After walking in from the parking lot and securing our tickets we boarded a tram that drove us around their beautiful floral gardens and pools. Peacocks, trained to open their magnificent tail feathers, walked around the grounds for our pleasure. We ended up at one of the roasting areas for the six or more pigs they prepare each night. Then we are invited to go to our tables. Groups larger than six have reserved tables, which was great. The buffet was awesome! I can’t begin to tell you of the many foods that were prepared for us in this all-you-can-eat spread. I made one pass and I was done! After the dinner we were led to the outdoor amphitheater where we were presented with a lengthy program about the history of the islands, the various ethnic groups that settled there, and the dances and music unique to the Hawaiian Islands. Everything is done by the very large Smith family. Make sure you take this in when you go.

On Sunday morning, the day before we were to fly home, we all drove to a nearby native church called New Hope. We had a delightful time with these brothers and sisters in Christ who invited us to stay for supper – more Hawaiian food! Love it! My daughters, Laura and Jenny, agreed that they would love to come back to Kauai if for no other reason than to visit these believers at New Hope. The pastor’s son is going to be attending a school up near Reno where he is to play baseball. His parents are going to come to visit us here in Ripon this fall when they drop him off.

 

        The time in Kauai with our family was special. Just before we left, our six-year-old Alyssa said to my wife, “Meema, can we make this trip to Hawaii a family tradition?” We all laughed, thinking, “Wouldn’t that be nice!”

On Vacay

             By the time you read this article my family and I will be back home from our vacation on the stunningly near pristine island of Kauai. Kauai is the seventh of the eight islands that make up the 50^th state known as Hawaii.

Discovered by British Captain James Cook in 1778, he named the islands the Sandwich Islands. This was in honor of the Earl of Sandwich who was a benefactor in Captain Cook’s world-wide journeys. In the 1840s the original name of the islands, Hawaii, returned to common use and has stuck ever since.

The eight islands are Hawaii (The Big Island), Maui (The Valley Isle), Oahu (The Gathering Place), Kauai (The Garden Isle), Molokai (The Friendly Isle), Lanai (The Pineapple Isle), Niihau (The Forbidden Isle), and Kahoolawe (The Target Isle).

Last year my wife and I decided it was time for me to look at retiring from the pastoral ministry. The date we set for this is May 31 this year. As a way of thanking my family for encouraging and supporting me through my many years of pastoral and Navy chaplain ministry we made plans to bring our two girls, their husbands and grandkids, plus a niece for a week on the Garden Isle of Kauai.

We stayed in a cabana that had three bedrooms and was maybe a five minute walk to a rather secluded beach. The area where the beach is situated is called Malooa Bay. We discovered to our great delight, that it was on this beach where the TV hit series, Gilligan’s Island was filmed from 1964-67. We watched several of the episodes from Gilligan’s Island and easily recognized the beach area where we played with our 5 and 6 year old granddaughters in the surf and sand.

We split the time eating out and preparing our own meals at the cabana, so we were able to sample the various island eateries. Our favorite breakfast spot was the Kountry Kitchen. It was always packed with a mix of native islanders and the rest of us (mostly tourists). Their specialty is a huge macadamia nut and banana pancake. After consuming this monstrous pancake I asked the hostess if they had ever bothered to count how many of these they made in a year. She said, No, they had never done that, but I think I may have gotten them thinking about it. Isaura then asked them if anyone held the record for eating the most pancakes. The hostess said, Yes, a little pencil-thin girl ate three! Seeing the size of some of the men on this island, I was surprised one of them had not set the record. The hostess commented, “If the hostess in a restaurant is skinny, you don’t want to eat there. You want to eat where the hostess is fluffy, like me!” Then she grabbed a bit of extra girth around her middle. What a hoot!

I saw a sign advertising another place to eat. The sign was a small sandwich board set out on the side of the road. It was painted yellow with black lettering. It said, “Caution! Mexican Food Ahead on Right.”

We visited the Kauai Coffee Plantation, sampling the many roasted flavors available. It is located near the southern tip of the island and has been in operation for more than 150 years. This is a most see place if you make it to Kauai.

We drove to the Spout Horn which is a naturally formed work of nature that operates much like a geyser. Right on the southern shore line where a mass of lava one time cooled to form the earthen barrier for the sea, a hole down through the lava was solidified allowing the ebb and flow of the wave action to force both water and air up through this “horn,” spraying water for a considerable distance. It has been intentionally reduced from its original geyser because it sprayed salt water on the nearby plantations, ruining crops. So, dynamite was used to reduce the size of the hole, but the effect is still the same. Just along the water’s edge you will occasionally spot a green turtle floating lazily in the roiling waters. Looking a bit further out, we saw numerous whales making up several pods, blowing their own geysers, and every once in a while one happy giant denizen of the sea would leap clear of the water only to splash back into his watery home no doubt with a smile of pleasure on his orcan face.

Some of you are no doubt wondering if I played any golf on this trip. Well, Yes, I did. Since this was a family vacation, I only planned for one round of golf. I selected the Wailua Golf Course, a nice, yet challenging 18 hole public course. Several of the holes run down alongside of the ocean. The sand traps are huge and difficult to get out off if you were unfortunate enough to find yourself in one. Actually I was in at least six or more. Despite the off-shore winds and the deep bunkers, I still managed to shoot an 89.

I have much more to share about our vacay (slang for vacation), but that will have to wait until next week.

True American Heroes

              From the time I was a kid I would occasionally hear talk of a special breed of warrior that always made me feel proud. Now, other than the fact that these men were Americans, I can’t tell you why I felt the way I did other than these men were Marines.

My step father (everyone called him “Pop”) had served as a Marine in the South Pacific during World War Two. I remember how I couldn’t wait until I had grown sufficiently to be able to wear his “rough-out” boots, made specifically for the rigors of coral and beach landings. The term “rough-out” is a precise description of these boots. The rough side of the leather was on the outside of the boot. I also had a black-and-white 8”X10” portrait photo of him in his Marine green “Alphas” sporting his corporal chevrons. Pop also gave me his metal Marine emblems from that uniform. So you can see how I might gravitate to all-things Marine!

With the advent of the telephone (Thank you, Alexander Graham Bell!) virtually instant communication revolutionized the way everything was done in daily life. The military was one of the earliest users of the telegraph wire and its cousin, the telephone. Little wonder then that speaking to someone who is removed by miles through this electronic device was exciting, to say the least. Bell and his assistant, Watson, held the first transcontinental conversation in 1915. Bell was in New York and Watson was in San Francisco.

Two years later the United States would find itself immersed in World War One. The telegraph was still in use, but now there was also the telephone. Because electric wires could be tapped, messages could be intercepted requiring special means of communicating so the enemy could not figure out what was being said. This is where the Code Talkers come in. The most famous of these special warriors are the Navajo Code Talkers from WWII.
 

 

The first Code Talkers were the Choctaw and Cherokee who were used in WWI by the U.S. Army. An American Army officer overheard some of his men speaking in Choctaw. He surveyed his command and discovered he had eight men from the Choctaw tribe. Six more were brought in from other commands to form the first trained unit for combat. These men were so effective in communicating critical information on the front lines in the midst of hellish combat that they were credited with saving the day. “They helped the American Expeditionary Forces win several key battles in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive in France, during the final big German push of the war. Within 24 hours after the Choctaw language was pressed into service, the tide of the battle had turned. In less than 72 hours the Germans were retreating and the Allies were in full attack.”

Following the success of Native American languages in WWI, several tribes were called upon to provide code talkers for WWII. In the European Theater the use of code talkers by American forces was stifled because leading up to the war Hitler had sent a gaggle of anthropologists to the United States to study the various Indian languages. It proved too difficult, and so the project was scrapped. However, the United States did not know this to be true, so they adopted a non-use approach. The one highly effective exception was during the Invasion of Normandy, June 6, 1944. “Fourteen Comanche code talkers took part in the Invasion of Normandy, and continued to serve in the 4^th Infantry Battalion during further European operations. Comanches of the 4th Signal Company compiled a vocabulary of over 100 code terms using words or phrases in their own language. Using a substitution method similar to the Navajo, the Comanche code word for tank was ‘turtle’, bomber was ‘pregnant airplane’, machine gun was ‘sewing machine’ and Adolf Hitler became ‘crazy white man.’”

 

Perhaps the best known were the Navajo code talkers. “Philip Johnston, a civil engineer for the city of Los Angeles, proposed the use of Navajo to the United States Marine Corps at the beginning of World War II. Johnston, a World War I veteran, was raised on the Navajo reservation as the son of a missionary to the Navajos, and was one of the few non-Navajos who spoke their language fluently.” A 2002 movie, Windtalkers, starring Nicholas Cage and Christian Slater, focuses in on the Navajo code talkers during the numerous battles in the Pacific. “The Navajo Code, as it was known, was a code based on two parts: 1) the Navajo language (notoriously difficult to learn or to understand); and 2) a code embedded in the language, meaning that even native speakers would be confused by it. Supposedly, this code was close to unbreakable, but so difficult only a few people could actually learn it.” It has been reported that throughout the war, the Navajo Code was never broken. Also, Navajo was an unwritten language at the outbreak of WWII, and fewer than 30 non-Navajos could understand the language.  

                        

 

 A missionary kid (MK) was responsible for the formation and implementation of the amazing Navajo Code Talkers.

 

 

 

A Safe Place

Last Thursday, bags packed and loaded in the car, Isaura and I began our short trek to Marines’ Memorial Club and Hotel in San Francisco, located at 609 Sutter Street (at Mason). It is a private social club for United States Marines and other veterans of the United States Armed Forces. The nonprofit Marines’ Memorial Association owns the large building in the Union Square neighborhood that houses a hotel, theater, restaurant/bar, sports club, special event facilities, library, museum, memorial, and a military history bookstore. The president and CEO is Major General Mike Myatt, USMC (Retired).

Recognizing the need for Gold Star families to come together, the Blue Star Moms in California took it upon themselves to reach out to these folks who have lost a loved one serving in the military. The toll in blood from Iraq and Afghanistan has brought many would-be strangers together who grieve over a child or spouse who was forcibly, and usually violently, taken from them. These families are no stranger to the depths of sorrow life sometimes brings. Yet, they come together once a year for two days to shut out the rest of the world. In a disarming way they look into each other’s eyes and enter into a very sacred place where each is safe with the other because of their shared pain and loss.

                

The script for these annual gatherings of Gold Star families is the same. Those of us who are there to assist in the event, such as counselors, coordinators, administrators, and the like, are privileged to briefly share the burden with these families.

 

The first evening begins with a social time followed by dinner together. This year one of the couples seated at our table was there for the first time. Their son, an Army medic, was killed in Afghanistan in 2012. We talked about this middle son of theirs and his love of country, and how much he loved his fellow soldiers. He was initially assigned to a safer location when he arrived in Afghanistan. But he believed he needed to be with the guys who might need him most – the guys taking the fight to the enemy. He laid down his life for his friends. I mentioned to the parents that many of the men their son had patched up in the midst of battle are alive today because he was there.

On Friday morning we begin with a memorial service honoring those who have fallen. This is perhaps the most difficult time for the families because it brings to the forefront, one more time, the reality of their loss. Held in the theater, folks slowly gather, greeted by a dozen or so Marines in their dress blues, there to honor these families. Before the program begins, harpist Laura Simpson plays quietly while folks find their seats. On the stage are tiered rows of votive candles with an embossed name card for each of the 96 fallen service members. A white rose is placed in a vase beside each candle by the family. General Myatt is the emcee for this event. After the presentation of the colors, the national anthem, and the invocation, the solemnity of the occasion changes as the fallen are remembered. In alphabetical order, each name is read aloud by General Myatt, stating their rank and branch of service. The family members who are present stand as their loved one is mentioned. The chaplain then leads the rest of us invoking this sobering phrase, “A grateful nation acknowledges your sacrifice and prays for your peace.”

 

Opera singer Erich Stratmann has been our featured soloist in this service. His rich baritone voice fills the theater with his rendition of “The Lord’s Prayer.” Following this is the presentation of the Gold Star flag to the newest members of this club that no one would ever want to join. This year, Mrs. Karen Kelly, wife of General John F. Kelly, USMC, presented the flag to each new family. She and her husband are themselves members of this club of Gold Star families, having lost their son, Lieutenant Robert Michael Kelly, USMC in Afghanistan, November 9, 2010.

On Friday evening for our closing event, a banquet is held in the formal dining room. The guest speaker this year, as in 2012, was General John F. Kelly, Commander, Southern Command. I can assure you that when this man speaks to these Gold Star families there is a connection, a bond shared that transcends all other communication, because the Kelly’s know from firsthand experience. So when Gold Star dad John Kelly speaks about losing his son, you could hear a pin drop in that vast room filled with a couple hundred people.
 

To top off the evening, the Party Band of the First Marine Division from Camp Pendleton, comes in and really gets rocking. They have a repertoire of Dixieland and New Orleans jazz that gets the joint jumping.
 

As we part, we all look forward to next year’s gathering. This is particularly true of the Gold Star families who will once again be able to enter that safe zone with others who have shared in grief and loss.

 Thank you, Blue Star Moms! You’re the best!

Olympic Stories

              Sports and athletic competition have always been a fascination to me. In particular, the Olympics grab my attention. There’s the obvious athletic prowess in the individual events, but my favorite part of the Olympics is the human interest stories.

During the Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia these past two weeks, I enjoyed the story of the Canadian mogul skier Alexandre Bilodeau. He won the gold four years ago skiing the moguls in Vancouver, Canada. He repeated his win last week in the same event by once again winning the gold. When asked who his hero is and what motivates him to continue to try and be the best in his sport, Alexandre makes no bones about it – he credits his older brother, Frederic. It is plain to see that these brothers love each other. Frederic can never be the athlete that his younger brother has become because when he was very young he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. The parents were told that he would no longer be able to walk by the age of 12. Today he is 28 and is still walking. In fact he has been in Soshi cheering on his brother in his now successful quest for his second gold medal.

In the 116 year history of the Olympic Games, there are athletes who are heroes of mine. First was Jim Thorpe. Jim was one of the greatest all-around athletes ever to grace a field or stadium. Prior to the Olympics Jim played baseball, basketball, and football. He made the 1912 U.S. Olympic Team and sailed off to Stockholm, Sweden to compete in the games. But he was competing in track and field. He won gold medals in the decathlon and the pentathlon. Thorpe was such a versatile athlete that he was declared to be “The Greatest Athlete in the World” by the King of Sweden who handed out the Olympic medals at the end of the games in 1912. Thorpe endured a number of challenges, having been born and raised as an Indian on an Oklahoma reservation. Despite this, he overcame the latent prejudice and hatred that was still in evidence during his lifetime.

Jesse Owens, an amazing athlete, single-handedly destroyed Adolf Hitler’s 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin, Germany by summarily beating the German athletes in track and field. Owens’ grandparents had been slaves, and his parents were share-croppers. Coming from such humble beginnings, his rise to international athletic celebrity status speaks volumes about his talent and character. During the award ceremony for one of the four gold medals he earned in Berlin, the German athlete who came in second place raised his arm in the Nazi salute during the playing of the U.S. National Anthem, no doubt attempting to besmirch Owens’ achievement and to ridicule the United States. Owens made his own statement by raising his right hand in an American military salute. It has been reported that Hitler refused to shake hands with Jesse, but Owens thinks otherwise. "Hitler didn't snub me – it was FDR who snubbed me. The president didn't even send me a telegram."

Al Oerter won the gold medal in the discus throw in four straight Olympics: 1956 – Melbourne, Australia; 1960 – Rome, Italy; 1964 – Tokyo, Japan; and 1968 – Mexico City, Mexico. He was the first Olympian to successfully defend his gold medal three times in a row. Sports injuries, and a near fatal car crash, always seemed to place him in the “underdog” status going into the Olympics. But he always rose to the occasion, despite at times having to endure excruciating pain.

It was the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia when a little sprite of a girl, all four feet, eight inches, named Kerri Strug captivated the world with her guts and determination. Having failed to rotate fully on the vault, she seriously injured her left ankle during the awkward landing. She still had one more jump in the team competition, so she hobbled her way back to the starting line. Kerri then ran full bore down the approach and hit the springboard with both feet, launching herself onto the vault, flipping in mid-air and then sticking her landing. The pain she endured must have been horrific. But this jump helped the American women’s gymnastics team win the gold. She was in terrible pain, so her friend and coach, Bela Karolyi, carried her from the stadium.

Derek Redmond is my final Olympian. This British athlete was competing in the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, Spain in the 400 meter sprint, a race that was his specialty. About half-way through the race he came up limping, having torn his hamstring. The physical pain was undoubtedly enormous, causing him to collapse on the track. The disappointment he experienced was another kind of pain, particularly because he had been favored to win the gold in this event. Medical assistants were immediately at his side, but he waved them back. He then rose to his feet and began hopping on his good leg, having every intention of completing the race. Tears were streaming down his face as he painfully hopped along. His father stood just inside the barrier from the stands. Seeing his son struggling to finish, dad jumped the barrier, ran to his son’s side and with an arm under his shoulders helped him complete the race. As father and son struggled toward the finish line, the crowd rose to their feet, cheering and shouting in admiration for this young man who would not quit. 

 

It is people like Thorpe, Owens, Oerter, Strug, and Redmond, and just last week, Bilodeau, who inspire me with their grit and courage both in their athletic pursuits, and in facing the challenges of daily life. I’m not suggesting that these are perfect people. What I am suggesting is that these are people who have simply refused to allow life to beat them. And for one glorious moment, they allowed us all to join in their triumph.

Pursuit of Happiness

              My oldest daughter, Laura, called me to suggest that I write an article about the pursuit of happiness. In particular, she wanted me to bring attention to “the pursuit of happiness” as mentioned in the Constitution. It’s true that happiness, or acquiring happiness, is often misunderstood.

As Americans, when it comes to the matter of happiness, we love to refer to the second paragraph and first sentence of the Constitution: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” What a powerful declaration! I can’t read that without a surge of thankfulness coursing its way through my soul. Only those who have known true freedom can begin to appreciate the hard-fought liberties that were secured for us by our Founding Fathers and the men and women who have stood against tyranny and enslavement to hand succeeding generations this priceless gift.

Those who wrote these words, who crafted their intent so that future generations would understand their meaning, were wise beyond our imagining. Our Founding Fathers knew all too well the dangers inherent in a nation whose government ruled the people with a heavy hand, crushing the spirit and the will of the governed. These men were determined to provide this new nation with an avenue of freedom that should not be interfered with by an overbearing government. Thus, America became the “Home of the Free.”

But what about happiness? Is this a right for all Americans? Or is it that some in our society have missed out on the intent of the Constitution?

Happiness, by definition, means, “good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy.” Such expressions pertaining to happiness are nebulous, meaning they have a different implication depending on the individual and their life experience. The God-given Rights of Life and Liberty, on the other hand, are a bit easier to agree on because they are more specific.

Life – you are alive! You are cognizant of your existence. The Founders believed that life was indeed given by God, and every individual had a right to that life.

Liberty – you are to be free to live your life as you choose. The Founders would hope you would live your life in such a way as to honor God. But whichever way a person selects in living their life, you should have the liberty to do so within the bounds of law, morality and decency.

All too often today we see laws being legislated that have more to do with trying to make people happy – which is contrary to the intent of the Founding Fathers. It is because you have the right to Life and Liberty that you can then pursue those paths in life that you believe would make you happy. This also means a person can pursue a path of personal destruction as well. This is sadly typified by those in the entertainment industry. Case in point: Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, and tragically this past week, Philip Seymour Hoffman.

There was an excellent article by Jeffrey Kluger on the pursuit of happiness in TIME Magazine last summer. The following is an excerpt: “Pilgrims to the New World were a self-selected group. Not every person suffering under the whip of tyranny or the crush of poverty had the temperamental wherewithal to pick up, pack up and travel to the other side of the globe and start over. Those who did were looking for something--pursuing something--and happiness is as good a way of defining that goal as any. Once that migrant population started raising babies on a new continent, the odds were that the same questing spirit would be bred into or at least taught to the new generations as well.

“And it has been. It took us 100 years to settle the continent and less than 200 to become the world's dominant power. We snatched and grabbed and extracted, yes, but we gave back too. Happy people don't just accumulate fortune; they invent things--the lightbulb, the telegraph, the movie camera, the airplane, the mass-produced automobile, the polio vaccine, the personal computer, social media, the iPhone. And happy people are also generous people, rebuilding other nations (hello, Marshall Plan) and donating to charities; the U.S. still ranks No. 1 among all nations in per capita charitable giving.” Read more: The American Pursuit of Happiness - TIME http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2146449,00.html#ixzz2smm6CD52

         Hmmmm. Happy people give back. Happy people are generous people.

         Happiness, then, is not a Right. It is a choice.

 

         Are you happy?