Monday, December 30, 2013

The Sixth Day of Christmas

On the sixth day of Christmas, my YAV year gave to me, six hours sorting canned goods at a Place to Turn.

Today, December 30, we volunteered at A Place to Turn, a food pantry and clothes closet in Natick, a township to the west of Boston.  My roommate Kathleen works there part time along with the Hartford Street Presbyterian Church just across the parking lot on the property backing up against the Natick Mall (A HUGE mall).  Her project is to start a community garden on the church property with 75 plots that community members can use to grow their own produce after being asked to donate at least 10% of their produce to A Place to Turn.  http://www.aplacetoturn-natick.org/
 


The five of us (YAVs plus Marshall) spent four hours sorting through their donated canned and boxed food items.  They are largely dependant on donations, and they've recieved a ton of food from holiday food drives from local boy scouts, schools, and churches.  Our job was to sort through all the donations to categorize it by food type, baking goods, veggies, beans, rice, tomato products, pasta, etc. and to pull out the food that would expire before February 2014 to get it on the shelves today, and to put the food that expired within the last 6 months out on the "Expired"shelf--clients take whatever they want of recently expired items but are not forced to take it.

They are God's people.  Maybe we shouldn't insult them with items far past the end of their lifetime.

Much like Rosie's Place, APTT lets the guests walk through and choose which of each item they want from the shelf giving them more control over their food selection.  Clothes items, toiletries, diapers, cleaning supplies--all things people cannot purchase with food stamps-- are also available.  Anyone in the "Metro West" area in need can be served here.  The food is actually pretty good, there is usually some fresh produce donated from grocery stores, lots of canned vegetables, and relatively few snack foods.  It's a well run operation, on the outgoing side, however we did see the high need for quality control on the donations.

We threw away five large boxes full of donated good that have past their "best by" date.  Some of it made it to the "shelf of shame" (a place reserved for only the oldest and nastiest donations).  In my mission trips to Baja, they referred to this as "Junk for Jesus"--things people just give away instead of throwing away no matter how nasty it is thinking they are helping someone, but they forget the golden rule, "do unto others as you'd have them do unto you".  In the donations that arrived between Nov. 1 and today that we looked through we found shelves upon shelves of useful items, but plenty of old, nasty things to keep it fun. 


There were plenty of expired cans, boxes of hamburger helper, beans, jelly, etc. some from 2007 or earlier.  The ones that surprised us were opened and used bottles of soap and shampoo, opened and used toothpaste, and you won't believe it when you hear it, Hemorrhoid medicine pads from 1978!
image taken from:
 http://www.facethefactsusa.org/facts/supersized-hunger-pangs-supersized-waste-infographic
Some of those donations to the food pantry should have gone to the landfill directly from the person's home...twenty years ago!

We did rescue some of the expired goods from 2012 and 2013 for our lunch. 

As always this comes back to the bigger issues of food justice:  More than 1/3 of the food produced in the U.S. gets wasted!  We saw that today.  Why don't people eat all their food before it expires?  And why is the holiday boy scout food drive the only time people look through all the food that's in their house?  Food Justice starts at home folks!  America, lets cut back on the waste and eat the food we buy.  Forget all the labor and energy that went into it if you want, but you did pay for that food, why didn't you eat it? I've done this before, but I'm likely not to do it again after this year.  Why are so many people hungry if there is so much food wasted?

These are questions we must investigate.


A few tips for donating food items to pantries:
  • Ask what specific items are needed and supply those. 
  • Check your cabinets and cubbards on a regular basis to make sure you are using all the food you bought. It will save you money in the long run.
  • Check the date, don't donate old things to the food pantry, In Massachusetts, if it's more than a year old they can't even put it on the shelf for expired goods.  Either eat it yourself or throw it away. (better yet if it's 

The Fifth Day of Christmas

On the fifth day of Christmas, my YAV year gave to me, five Christmas carols, a fourth new roomate, three new competitors in dominos, two pots of sauce, and some words of wisdom from the innkeeper.

Five Christmas carols:
On December 29 we sang these five Christmas Carols in worship:  "In the Bleak Midwinter," "Gentle Mary Laid her Child," "What Child is This" "Angels from the Realms of Glory," and for the first time all season, "Go Tell it on the Mountain."

 A Fourth new roomate:
My fourth new roomate is Marshall, Libby's boyfriend, he is staying for the week.  It's been good having another guy around the house who understands there are different species of grass for different purposes on lawns, and that hardware stores are actually fun to walk around in. (he actually got here Friday).

Three new competitors in dominoes:
Maggie, our site coordinator invited us over for games, Christmas snacks, and Christmas music.  Audrey and I went.  We got soaked in the rain walking from the train station.  I got to wear Maggie's husband Mohit's pants while ours were in the dryer.  Their friend Yuan Yuan was there, those three plus Audrey got me pretty good in dominoes. 

Two pots of sauce:
In the evening Libby made some delicious apple sauce with our remaining apples, and a pot of tomato sauce with the tomatoes I picked up yesterday. 

A useful bit of advice from the innkeeper:
At church we were visited by the innkeeper who witnesed the birth of Christ on Wednesday (A dramatization by the pastor Rod).  He left us with some wisdom I will paraphrase: Make sure you keep you door open, and your house welcome, you just never know who the next person will be asking for your help or a place to stay. It could be our savior, or God himself.  Be ready.

The Fourth Day of Christmas

On the fourth day of Christmas, my YAV year gave to me, 4 pounds of tomatoes thanks to our friend Kris!

Saturdays are my day off.  I was sitting in front of the computer on the 28th, minding my own business when I got a text message from our neighbor and friend Kris who said " If you can drive to the farmer's market, today is the day to go, it's the last day for the tomato guy." 

Image taken from http://mixedgreensblog.com/2012/09/10/seasons-eatings/basic-recipes-on-the-local-table/savoring-every-tomato-every-sunset/

I looked up how to get there on the internet and got to biking.  It wasn't too cold.  Just like all my biking trips in Boston, I got lost only once, and wandered in to an establishment with my wind blown crazy hair and sweaty back to ask directions.  They got me back on track and I found it. 

Let me tell you tomatoes are a hot item this time of year because they aren't in season.  This guy grew them in a greenhouse.  I bought 25 of them which are now tomato sauce.

Eating seasonally has changed me.  Who have I become that I'd bike four miles in the New England winter with a tip of local tomatoes? I sure wouldn't have last December 28.

I also want to mention how big a help Kris has been.  She works at athena health and is our local food guru.  She's been inspired by the Living More with Less book and the Why Food Matters book, and even the Bible to eat more healthily.  She's helped me see how this local eating thing, and protecting the environment is actually something God wants us to do.  Kris is part of the Boston Faith and Justice Network and has spoken at their events with me.  She is a great addition to our YAV Food Justice League.  She's even let us use space in her deep freezer and root cellar to get through the winter.

She invited us over for dinner the 26th with her original chlli recipe from all local ingredients.  If you ever had a doubt about treating the earth right with our food as a holy discipline, just talk to Kris and she'll set you straight. God left us in charge of this Earth, and ever since the first old testament prophets we've been commanded to care for the widdows, orphans, and poor who can't help themselves.  Our food system is hurting and exploiting the widows, orphans, and poor, and the planet and we need to stop it.  God says so.  That's the long and short of it.

Thank you Kris for all your support and guidance in our food justice missions!

Sunday, December 29, 2013

The Third Day of Christmas

On the third day of Christmas, my YAV year gave to me three hours at the dish machine, two bowls of leftover turkey, and a day at the Women's Lunch Place (WLP).

Audrey my roomate works at Women's Lunch Place, a drop in center for women in the basement of Church of the Covenant downtown.  It is on Newbury street, a very high end neighborhood with expensive retail stores.  A place where people don't always want a drop in center down the street  http://womenslunchplace.org/



Disclaimer:  When I sent most of you my fundraising letter in August I thought that would be my job here, so when I refered to connecting local food to soup kitchens, I was refering to the Women's Lunch Place.  It was awkward the first few days when we'd describe our jobs and Audrey and I said the same thing. 

It is much like Rosies place in that any woman is welcome.  At Women's Lunch Place no one is checked to see if they are poor, if they are homeless, or if they are hungry.  Anyone who identifies as a woman can come in, be fed, and find a community with other women.  Breakfast, lunch, a place to sit, company of others, a warm shelter are free to anyone.  They also offer education, guidance, personal support, counseling, or most anything the women need.  This page tells about it and has a very inspiring video.  http://womenslunchplace.org/our-work/  So is this one http://womenslunchplace.org/about-us/

Job or no job, house or no house, kids or no kids they are welcome.  (sound familiar anywhere--maybe the words before communion "all are welcome").  Those women have to prove they need assistance so often, maybe there should be at least one place where they can come in and just be fed.  In the breakfast line I spooned food onto plates for anyone who was in line, I didn't judge, I was told to portion eggs and oatmeal that was my job.  Who cares where they spent the night, or where they'll go tonight.  In that moment I was there to smile, and give out food.  God doesn't want us to judge either.  He wants us to see past that and love our neighbor, to feed his sheep.


They have good food.  Josh, Audrey's boss, is a professionally trained cheif and he gets good food, from good sources and is working with Audrey to improve the quality of food, and she does a lot to get the women excited to eat their healthy fruits and vegetables not just the mashed potatoes and gravy.  They had salmon for lunch on Friday!  She also gets the church involved with the women in their basement as much as she can.  Sometimes it's a challenge to bridge that divide between the church with Tiffany Stained glass, and the women in the basement.

That's been the message Audrey's been preaching to us.  These are women, no different from any other women except they are down on their luck.  Maybe they are down on luck, WLP doesn't check, they may be ok.  As Christians we are called to see past economic class and love them.  We can't just walk past the pan handlers and ignore them saying it's not our problem.  It is our problem.  That man asking for change, these women, the poor, the rich white man on the bus, the wall street banker, the people we sit next to in church are all our brothers and sisters.  They aren't so much different than we are, life just worked out better for some of us for many reasons.

We are discovering how to love and nurture our neighbors in Boston.  It's complicated, but hey, love is complicated too so it works out-- that's my hope at least.

From their website, a quick snapshot of services provided by WLP in FY13 -
  • 71,352 nutritious breakfasts and lunches
  • 3,151 naps, 2,592 showers, and 2,358 loads of laundry
  • 2,128 medical visits with doctors, nurses, and mental healthprofessionals from Women of Means and Boston Health Care for the Homeless Program
  • 1,622 advocacy visits
  • 14,562 Resource Center visits
  • 2,088 attended Creative Expressions activities.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Second Day of Christmas

On the second Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, the early shift at Rosies place and afternoon one at Hayley House. 

On the 26th, my fellow YAVs and I volunteered together at Rosie's Place, a drop in center for women in need.  Women who are hungry, women who are homeless, women who are cold, women who need help finding a job, any are welcome.  Please visit their website to learn more: http://www.rosiesplace.org/home.  They are doing so much to help women get back on their feet when any of life's curveballs sets them back from sucess.  And they do it all without any government funding.

We spent the morning in the food pantry.  Different from the Craigsville food pantry where I am used to volunteering, at Rosies the guests can come once a month for food, whenever they can make it.  There is one room where they can choose fresh produce, meat, and eggs, and another room for canned goods.  Volunteers walk each person through to explain how much they can take, and they fill up their own bags from what's on the shelf.  The women actually get to choose which can of beans they want or if they want a bag of spinach or a bag of carrots--much like they would in a grocery store. 

Maybe having it be more like a normal shopping experience can provide impowerment that they have control over their situation and not just be handed whatever someone you don't know donated. 

One woman said she doesn't always come in for food, only when she needs it, and the holidays made things pretty tight for her on food, so she came in because she needed it.

Beyond serving meals there is a room for women to just sit, if they need a safe place to go.  Through random lottery the beds upstairs are filled as a temporary homeless shelter, with a stay for up to three weeks.  Unlike temporary shelters, or rotating shelters like HARTS that I've helped with in Harrisonburg, VA, having a longer stay allows clients to get started thinking about jobs and other things beyond just one day.  I guess it would slow you down from daily life if you had to worry about where you would spend the cold New England nights.  They are not.  They are just as broken as we are.  We are just as broken and sinful as they are.

After this shift we walked downtown to the Hayley House cafe  to serve a meal to elders in the Boston area.  Many were homeless, some I'd seen at other food pantries and free meals.  Please watch this video.  http://www.haleyhouse.org/our_philosophy.  We prepared and served soups, salad, cornbread, and cookies to 26 men who didn't have anywhere to go for lunch on the day after Christmas.  The food was good quality and pretty healthy.  This organizaiton was started in the 1960s by Catholic workers and has come a long way since then.  They provide some housing, employment, and life skills to people down on their luck, or returning to society from prison.  They offer services, classes, food, shelter, and basic needs to anyone needing a hand to get through life just like Rosies but are serving men.

That second day of Christmas was a learning day to se how different non-profits are reaching out to those in need.  An educational change of pace from normal work. 

These are people, like you and me who have to eat. Both of these organizations and others whom I'll write about decided that these people just want to be treated like people. And they are treating them as such, not as untouchables. It is our human system, not something God made, something we broken people made for ourselves that say these people are less than we are.  And weather we see it our not, our soceity  needs a lot of work.  Homelessness, hunger, and poverty go way beyond bad luck and individual choices.  That is a topic for another day, but this day we did a small part to feed some people.  To feed God's sheep, and to be fed as God's sheep. 

We are all children of God, let's treat each other that way.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

"Flowers Before Food"


It’s Christmas time, so Little Brothers Friends of the Elderly (LBFE) takes over the kitchen at Northeastern University to cook a ton of turkey.  Close to 400 meals were prepared on Christmas Eve, and distributed today, Christmas, to elderly individuals in the metro Boston area.  LBFE finds elders, seniors, and shut ins who don’t have any family in the area for the holidays and coordinates this impressive operation of making meals for all of them, and finding volunteers to deliver all these meals and spend time in fellowship with these lonely people on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Passover, and other holidays.  Check them out: (http://boston.littlebrothers.org/index.html )

Being my first year away from home at Thanksgiving and Christmas the opportunity jumped out at me.  I remember crying a little reading about it for Thanksgiving because I would be kind of lonely 630 miles from home, and that would be beautifully perfect to be lonely with someone else who was lonely on Thanksgiving.  I was all set to go and then Gus died (see previous post), so I came home for Thanksgiving to get through all that with some friends, but Today I did it for Christmas and it was just that.  Beautifully perfect.

I wondered around Northeastern University this morning trying to find the dining hall in the cold air.  When I saw several people coming out of a door in fancy clothes carrying paper gift bags with flowers sticking out I thought that’s the place. 

I went inside for orientation as a new volunteer and got these words of inspiration and encouragement from David.  “The world needs more of what you guys are doing here today.”  He told us how he delivered a meal on Christmas when he was in his 20s and made a friend in 83 year old Maria Crawford who he kept in touch with until she died at 103 just six years ago!  He explained how volunteering works for both people, our lives would be changed today he said, and and so will the elder we’d meet. 

Their motto is “Flowers before food” indicating that the beauty, and the companionship should come before the food.  That’s beautiful, and that is key in food justice, building relationships that are more than just food, even though it may be structured around a meal.



I went straight to the volunteer table where they give you the next elder on the list based on what part of the city we wanted to visit.  I chose downtown near the Boston Common since I could get there by train easily and they gave me a paper with Ray ____.  I went through the line, got his respective gift, flowers, and the meal, and then was on my way back on the train.

I found his apartment after several turns down the wrong side street.  He let me in and was excited from the minute I got off the elevator on his floor.  He showed me all the doctor’s business cards in his wallet, his scars from all his bladder and hernia surgeries, and then around his apartment.  I thought to myself, “I hope I become as spunky in my old daffiness as this guy, he’s pretty cool.”  We put the flowers in a vase.  He then told me the organ music playing was his wife Josephine who passed away in 2009.  He said he always sang to her playing the piano and organ and then he just belt it out right there in front of me.  “You’ll never know how much I love you…” that old frank Sinatra song he sang to her at their wedding: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4ZD_sQmCEs) even though this online recording doesn’t catch all of Ray’s passion.  He sang that song with his wife.  He still misses his wife. She died of Alzheimer’s in 2009.  It was hard on him.  It still is.  His voice was so powerful, deep, true, something I never felt listening to Frank Sinatra, even though I never much cared for Sinatra.  But that passion got deep in me and I felt his loss, with Gus so close in mind.

He said he wanted to sing one or two Christmas songs with me, I said I LOVE CHRISTMAS CAROLS! So we sang everyone in the book, and all those in the next book, and a few from the third book, and then a few more from the first book again.  It was great.  He was off beat sometimes and I was out of tune most of the time so we sounded bad most of the time, but on a few notes we’d hit it right, and look at each other and just connect with that harmony.  The neighbors must have all been out for the holidays or the sound proofing was good because no one complained.

After the Christmas songs we sang some Elvis, then he sang some on his own I’ve never heard.  His voice was beautiful, low, deep.  If you heard it break silence, it would probably scare you, it scared me at first, but it was from his heart, and that made it less scary.  They were all songs he’d sing with his wife as she played.  She was gifted.  She was musical. She was beautiful.  He showed me pictures. 

He let me lead the singing of Willie Nelson’s “Crazy.”  I didn’t tear up until we sang “Old Rugged Cross,” and “I go to the Garden Alone,” he held my hand when we sang those.  I’m tearing up now writing this.  I’m such an old man.

He had all these love songs he wanted to sing.  He sings them to some of his friends he’s met over the phone.  He still misses his wife.  He said that a lot.  We talked a about his wife, I talked a little about Gus, but we sang most of the time. That said enough.

I was depressingly cynical when I signed up. I wanted to share my loneliness with someone else while I was lonely on the holidays.  (I’m really not all that alone in real life, way too many people care about me), but today I was one of two lonely old men singing love songs and Christmas songs because those we’d love to sing them with are somewhere else.  And It felt good, and didn’t feel lonely.  It felt like I connected with something much bigger than anything either of us we’re missing.

This is Boston on Christmas.  It is special. It is true.  Glory in the Highest!

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Adventures with Gus


In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness but the darkness could not overcome it. John 1:4-5

 My appologies for not keeping up with this blog so much.  A lot has happened here and at home and I'll get around to telling the stories shortly.  This past weekend we took a retreat to the woods to the Agapae Community, in the woods of Ware, Massachusetts.  I wondered around the woods alot, made some pine needle and wintergreen tea, and saw some garlic mustard, striped wintergreen, eastern hemlock, and all kinds of plants.  We played music and sang songs.  All of the plants and stringed instruments reminded me of my friend Gus who I haven't seen or heard from since August, and will never see or hear from again except in  my memories. 

Nearly a month ago, I experienced arguably the worst week of my life when I heard about Gus' violent end and tragic death. I've been trying to understand, cope, and process what happens next. Please humor me as I tell the long but not long enough story of a friend who made me much of who I am today.  May these words remind those who knew him of some happier times when he was showing us what "life" meant.  And many who he touched have much more to say about him on facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/CelebratingGusDeeds

He didn't go out quiet either, he made a statement.  He always did. weither he bleaching his name on his staff shirt, playing the banjo or harmonica, or whatever, you'd know he was around when he'd leave some mark for the better on you when you'd cross his path.  His suicide after being turned away from the mental health facilities has the state legislature considering much needed mental health reform with this petition: http://petitions.moveon.org/sign/stand-with-creigh-deeds-1.fb57?source=s.fb&r_by=9655060  Please sign it if you are from Virginia!

Known to select groups as Sug, Ragnoroth, Lord Gusticles, Gustopher, Gus Gus, and master sense of the squeegee, among other various names, this kid was the most remarkable individual I ever had the pleasure of knowing. He helped shape me into who I am today.  Some of the best adventures I've ever been on, were  some of his adventures that he took me on.  Please excuse my wordy memories, each of them is a gift and an inspiration to shine some light in the dark parts of the world.

I met Gus in confirmation class when I was in middle school. Soon after, when my family moved into the Bath County school system Gus took myself and my brother Joe under his wing as the new kids in town. He warned us about Mrs. Rooklyn, and which kids were friends, and who to avoid. He entertained us with his guess the shape and color mind games, dream interpretation, his own created language similar to Welsh, and the ever famous "Water on the Bus" band until the rubber band chronicles broke out and divided the bus between the front and the back.  I have only great memories with this wild, independent, highly intellectual kid.  His admirable stubborness led him to grow his hair longer than anyone else wanted him to, and to wear shorts every day for one year even in the Appalachian winters. He had a unique ability to feel or see things about you ( or maybe he just made it up) Everything was always deep with Gus. I didn't know anyone he couldn't get along with, or talk to--except maybe President Bush.

Gus along with friends Tony and Jim christened my brother Joe, friend Michael, and myself into the age old Bath County tradition of catching snipe in grocery bags. A wonderful night in the dark. I'll take you sometime.  There’s good snipe habitat on the Walter’s farm. The lot of us were like Everett, Delmar, and Pete just full of nonsense--O Brother. Wrestling matches, Dr. Thunder cans in the campfire, shooting the rifle, listening to Gus play his harmonica while Michael sang the blues. Listening to Gus play his harmonica in the opening act for bluegrass ledgend Dr. Ralph Stanley. Gus would play any instrument with incredible ease, trombone, banjo, anything with strings, even instruments he’d build himself.  The countless encounters we shared were nothing but excitement and wonder to me throughout high school, soccer, and summers. Gus' love of music, the history, the mountains, his family, language, horses, the woods, the South, theology, people, just fascinated me. Many times I'd just listen about his political ideals, philosophy, and all the thought provoking insights he'd share. Always fun. He always inspired me to follow my heart no matter how crazy I'd look doing it, and honestly I wouldn't ever get as crazy as he would no matter how hard I tried. Believe me, I've tried.

 
I don't know if his parents ever knew of the time he made wine in his closet, or the actual covert operation of him eloping to marry the Spanish teacher's daughter and move to Columbia with her. No joke they planned that out with a designated witness and a story to cover it up. Disclaimer: Those two I wasn't involved in.

Gus helped us win the Beta Club Quiz Bowl state tournament and I got to tag along to the nationals in Nashville as the water boy/alternate. So many others on that Quiz bowl team, and in his classes were gifted seeing Gus' mind full of knowledge. His head was full of stuff. What a mind! He knew so much about everything. He held the high school record for 600's (perfect scores) on Virginia SOL tests, and countless other class awards. He was the Valedictorian of the class of 2007 and his speech was about chasing your dreams and following your heart after high school. "If you enjoy shoveling horse manure," he said, "you shovel that horse manure until your heart's content." He encouraged us not to feel obligated to get any job people expected us to get, but to do what we feel called to. I know there was more to it than horse manure, but that's all I can remember.

 
Gus and his sister accompanied my family and I in a church mission trip to Baja Mexico where his Spanish, love of soccer, and enthusiasm with kids touched so many lives there.
 
 



 

After high school, things changed. He had some heartbreak, some ups and downs with relationships and the new exposures that come with freshman year. Who didn't try the alcohol or other things in college? I don't know everything that happened to him. I can only assume as another good ole Bath County boy experiencing the eye-opening world of college It shook up his world emotionally.  College did that for me.  Among other things I knew seeing the truth about some corruption in politicians from his idealized view of politics with some people he met during his father's campaign for governor, and the emotional toll of the divorce, left him without as much purpose. I saw him in some of his sad times.

He and I reconnected one summer day bailing hay after his freshman year, for the hardest day of work in my life, and then later on for my own campus ministry retreat to Montreat College Conference.He found a welcome place with my misfit friends from my wacky college years.

Following this retreat he got tired of sitting around the house and just up and left in his car with a jar of peanut butter, a spoon, a bible, Walden Pond, his harmonica and banjo, and about $800. This is another tale where I don't have all the details but he found Jesus at the Pacific Ocean, and met a preacher out there who helped guide him in his newly found faith. When he got back faith was much more real to him. It was kind of weird to me, but it gave him a new purpose I think for a while. He became centered around showing love to other people. I don't know if showing love to himself was any part of that--but that's most important in showing love.

Gus made such a mark on my friends Marcus and Tessa that he was a groomsman in their wedding with Joe and I, and the best man Jonathan.  Gus and I walked Kathleen, now one of my fellow YAV’s down the aisle.

 

That summer I applied to be on staff at Nature Camp (an academic camp about the natural world) to teach renewable energy, as a way to show off my college “wisdom”.  Gus went to this camp as a kid and was on staff in 2009, and encouraged me to apply several times. I didn't know Gus also applied that summer to teach Appalachian studies or wilderness survival. The camp director Flip in his amazing wisdom paired up the two of us to teach Botany. My mom asked him if he knew what he was getting into putting us together with our old snipe hunting buddy Tony as head male.

Camp brought back the happy crazy Gus from high school—but the sad Gus would come back occasionally. He always talked about camp and how big it was for him as a child, and I think that atmosphere and memory pulled him out of whatever depression and slump he'd been in. He called me up before camp even started and spent about an hour explaining his idea for the botany class. If I could only tell one Gus story it would be about us being teaching partners at Nature Camp—"The closest bond any two people could ever hold," he said.  He went on and on that Botany could be like a RPG video game (role playing game) like mind craft, pokemon, or another video game where you enter a world as your own character, collect items and complete tasks to level up, and unlock new skills to continue on.  The kids will get to choose their character type which gives them certain gifts or abilities, so some will know medicinal plants, some will know edible plants, some cultivating plants, some the cellular biology of plants, and they would get a plant hero name and perform quests to gain experience points to level up and unlock new abilities. To make a long story short, I edited his idea enough to comfortably run it by Flip, create a few of my own "quests" for the kids with my limited knowledge of plant biology behind it, and we called it "the World of Plantcraft" The kids ate up that nonsense. Gus (Plantcrafter name: Ragnoroth) taught the kids making rope and building shelters from vines and wood, and I (Alexander the Magnificent) would draw cellular pictures of how plant cells in wood are different than in leaves. Gus would show them and have them identify and taste edible leaves, and I'd explain photosynthesis on the white board. He was the level 38 Bard, and I was a level 36 Monk. He made up a written language for the kids to use to crack the code and get past level 7.  We focused heavily on edible and medicinal plants, and I really got into that. Honestly Gus' imagination got me into studying botany and farming and started me on the path that led me here to Food Justice Missions in Boston.

Some credit goes to you Master Ragnoroth.  You made me into the plantcrafter I am, and I will defend, honor and teach the ways of the World of Plantcraft.  I wish Gus would have seen the plantcrafting going on here in Boston and even up in Maine where they taught me to make acorn flour, something he and I never had the patience for.  So I'm going to eat my acorns without you Ragnoroth, not cool.
 


That fall he went back to William and Mary and was signed up for music composition. He was writing for the symphony and completed an ode to Dale Earnhardt! He was back to his old self when I saw him at Christmas.

From my inspiration as Ragnoroth's companion plantcrafter, that next year at college I took college botany (Human Uses of Plants) and a farm internship class (which I liked to call Plantcrafting 101 and 102), and returned to camp this past summer to teach a botany class, but without Gus, with a practicing horticulturalist Kate, and we focused more on and cultivated plants and food. Unfortunately for the kids, I couldn't carry the creativity for the world of plantcraft without Gus and Kate was scared to mess it up so we put that on hold. Gus taught ornithology this summer. He didn't know as much about birds as he did plantcraft, but he studied his butt off to learn what he didn't know and he did a great job as a teacher and as a role model to the kids. While most of us would tell silly little lies to the kids for their enjoyment or camp magic, Gus was all about honesty. I can't tell you how many times he called out another one of us for faking enthusiasm with the kids. "Kids can tell when your faking," he'd say, "then they won't trust you" He taught the kids ways to respect each other, and was all about showing love, respect, and honesty to one another. Even as the head male this summer, his 'supervisor,' I'd seek him out for advice on how to handle homesick kids, or even some disciplinary problems. He understood the kids in a way I couldn't, and I had a lot to learn from him. Countless times his seemingly crazy punishments brought the kids closer in a loving way.  Gus received the director's choice staff award for his excellent job this past summer. At least 320 kids and 25ish staff were lucky to have Gus in their lives this summer for his example. 

Toward the end of camp this year I felt disconnected with Gus because we weren't as close as when we’d been teaching partners. He was down a lot more of the time than he was up in his relations with the other staff. We all loved him and enjoyed being around him, but there was some disconnect. Granted all of us on staff can be disconnected at times, we're all a little weird.  That's why we get hired at Nature Camp. I interviewed Gus about the summer in August, and he got real deep about a lot of that bad stuff. He just wanted people to show love, but in his eyes there was a lot of evil, and selfishness going on. He hated that and took it personal.  He couldn't feel a lot of love from others. I encouraged him to come back to camp next year. The kids needed him there, and he needed those kids. They were his source of love. He said camp gave him a world of good during his tough childhood, and he just wanted to give that excitement and love he received from camp back to the kids, because we don't know what their life is like at home. Again, I didn't feel it my place to ask, but at least in high school I thought his home life was fine.

When I came up here to Boston, chasing my interest in Ragnoroth's Plantcrafting, I heard he dropped out of college again and was at home. I tried to contact him several times but no response. I figured he was fine, or maybe he was in his dark place that he thought I wasn't sincere in my words, and I was hiding something--maybe I wasn't sincere. Then that Tuesday I heard he shot himself, and Gus is dead.

It's a lot to process. It will be a while before I really understand it. 

There was a lot of pain in his head, he hid it well.  I didn't see all of it,  some unfortunately saw more than I did, some people were lucky enough not to see any of it, and that’s how I’m going to remember him, the times when he wasn’t in pain. I knew he was fighting something. maybe a demon, maybe depression, maybe a more severe illness like bipolar disorder. It's just sad.  Everything was deep with Gus, both the Joy and the pain, but especially the love.  He felt things in a different way.  A deep way. A way I aspired to feel things.   

Gus was too much of a bluegrass musician, he carried alot of pain inside but it inspired some damn good music. But a lot of his music came from joy, especially the dancing. He found a lot of relief in the music, and being around friends. But something toward the end turned him away from friends, and even some family members.

One friend from camp, Katie, reminded me that he gave her assurance on a bad day saying,

"I don't believe in bad days because "bad days" only happen when you can't feel the love that is all around you. Once you realize that the love is always there, it's not possible to have a bad day again."

I regret that we couldn't show Gus love in a way he understood these last months, so many of us tried and I'm angry that whatever was going on in his amazing mind kept him from seeing that love and giving him bad days. 

Those words from John's gospel at the beginning remind me of Gus. "In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness could not overcome it."

Darkness did not win with Gus. After being illuminated by his life, his mind, and his creativity, I can’t help but bring more light to the dark parts of this world.  Just the memories with him inspire me to brighten up the world! 

But guess what, John didn’t write that about Gus, he was writing about Jesus Christ, who already has victory over death with the resurrection.  Darkness did not overcome Gus.  It took him away from this world, and away from us, but not away from God “Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present not the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord,” I am assured that Gus is held tightly in the arms of God. (Romans 8:38).  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness could not overcome it. 

Unfortunately for all of us Gus isn’t lighting up the world any more, now he leaves that work for us, but he’s not fighting his pain any more either.  He is in the peaceful rest in the Kingdom of Heaven surrounded by God’s love all around.  Never to have a bad day again.  And we are left with a hole in our lives without this great friend, and I'm reminded recently of this loss with the sound of bluegrass music, the sight of medicinal plants, and many things he taught me to hold dear.  But once we “realize that the love is always there, it’s not possible to have a bad day again.”  That hole will be filled with the love of those around us, and we will fill other's emptiness. 

Thank you to the many friends, new and old, family, and others who have helped starting to fill this hole in me with love, support, memories, prayers, cards, laughter, non-local food, and a trip home.

Show love to those around you.  And make sure you feel the love people are showing you.  Don't let people's love to you go unfelt.  That hurts them. A lot.  Love yourself.

Gus, you gave off a certian light that made us see things differently.  see them better.  To the world you spoke the gospel.  You lived it.  You struggled with living it as a falable human, just like the rest of us.  And you rest in it now.  Rest easy Gus. We love you!