A 50-year love affair

On a day in the summer of 1972, a disk jockey at St. Petersburg, Florida's WLCY-AM (138 on your radio dial!) checked his playlist, selected a 45, and then watched as the record dropped onto the turntable and a plastic arm moved to the proper spot in order to drop the needle onto the proper groove.  (Any millennials and Gen Zer's who are confused at that above paragraph can ask their parents for a translation.)

The music that played caught the attention of an eight-year-old girl listening to the radio at home. She heard the song, she liked it, and every other time it played on WLCY, she liked it more. 

I was that eight-year-old girl in 1972. The song was "Saturday In the Park",  and it began a 50-year love affair with the rock group Chicago.

Why Chicago? Why that song? I don't know. What reason can an eight-year-old give for liking a particular song or a particular group? All I know is that it was an upbeat, happy, peppy song, the perfect song to introduce me to a new group.

The band's official website tells the story of "Saturday In the Park" as Robert Lamm coming back from New York's Central Park after seeing the steel drum players, dancers, singers and jugglers, and insisting, we have to write a song about this!

Lamm's account, recorded in Billboard magazine, tells the story this way:  "It was written as I was looking at footage from a film I shot in Central Park, over a couple of year, back in the early '70's.  I shot this film and somewhere down the line I edited it into some kind of a narrative, and as I watched the film I jotted down some ideas based on what I was seeing and had experienced.  And it was really kind of that peace and love thing that happened in Central Park and in many parks all over the world, perhaps on a Saturday, where people just relax and enjoy each other's presence, and the activities we observe and the feelings we get from feeling a part of a day like that."

Gradually, through TV appearances and my own library research, I got to know the band: Terry Kath on guitar, Peter Cetera on bass, Walter Parazaider on saxophone (and occasionally flute), Lee Loughnane on trumpet, James Pankow on trombone, and Robert Lamm on keyboard. 

When I was 13, one of my Christmas presents was Chicago IX - Chicago's Greatest Hits. Like any teenager obsessed with a band, I played it over and over until I had it memorized. And then I still kept playing it. 

I kept my eyes and ears open for any mention of Chicago on the news, on the radio, anywhere I could find them. 

So on the morning of January 24, 1978, while lying in bed and listening to the radio, I heard the words, "One of the members of the group Chicago . . ." and I smiled to myself. 

Then the next four words, " . . . has accidentally killed himself," gut-punched me. 

And that was how I learned that guitarist Terry Kath had accidentally shot himself in the head. His last words?  "Don't worry, it's not loaded."

I was devastated, much like fans are when their favorite entertainer unexpectedly dies. Robin Williams, Kurt Cobain, and Whitney Houston come to mind. 

But Chicago bounced back, with the album "Hot Streets". The band, however, was never the same after Terry Kath died. 

After a dip in popularity in the late '70's/early '80's, Chicago enjoyed a resurgence in popularity. It was then, in 1984, that a dream of mine came true:  I got to see Chicago in concert, in Tallahassee, Florida, during our homecoming week. Our tickets were in the nosebleed zone, something like row XXX. I didn't care. It was Chicago. I screamed the whole time. Now, I barely remember any of the songs they played, except the first one, "We Can Stop The Hurting," from their then-newest album, Chicago XVII; and also "Hard To Say I'm Sorry/Get Away." 

They've gone through personnel changes, musical changes, adjusted to the new world of streaming. 

In 2016, the original six members were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, an honor long overdue. 

As of this writing, they are still touring and still performing; in fact, they recently did a concert here in Atlanta with the Beach Boys. While on the one hand, I'm sorry I missed seeing them; on the other hand, there are only three original members left -- Lee Loughnane, James Pankow, and Robert Lamm. They are not the Chicago I knew as a child.

More recently, fans of the show "This Is Us" were exposed to "Saturday In the Park" when it was used in an episode called . . . "Saturday in the Park." The character of Kate Pearson used the tune of the song to help her blind child remember how to get to the park they went to on Saturdays.

They began as a group of six, 55 years ago, and today, they are still going. 

So, from a now 58-year-old woman, thank you.

Thank you, Robert Lamm, for your trip to Central Park which inspired the song you wrote.

Thank you, DJ at WLCY, 138 AM, for choosing to play "Saturday In the Park" in the summer of 1972.

And thank you, Chicago, for being a part of the soundtrack of my childhood, and for bringing an eight-year-old girl pleasure with a song about a simple but magical day in Central Park. 

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

 

Is this what forgiveness means?

"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." Or, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

No matter which way you translate it in the Lord's Prayer, forgiveness is a core doctrine of Christianity.

We're told to "forgive as the Lord forgave you" (Colossians 3:13), and even Jesus himself, on the cross, prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

When the Apostle Peter asked, "How many times should I forgive my brother? Up to seven times?" Jesus' answer -- depending on your translation -- was either "seventy-seven times" or "seventy times seven." 

In other words, if I am to call myself a follower of Christ, I cannot withhold forgiveness.  I cannot refuse to forgive someone who has hurt me or harmed me.  I admit, I often ask God, "Do I have to?" (like a six-year-old would sound) and the answer is always, "Yes." 

"Forgive," and "Do not worry," are the two commands I probably struggle with the most as a Christian. I have dealt with my share of wrongdoing, and while I do believe there are people I have forgiven, I'm not sure if the forgiveness process is complete in other areas. I don't think I have yet forgiven everyone who bullied me in school or the leaders who were spiritually abusive in college. And I'm not sure if I've forgiven mistakes my parents have made in raising me. Although now that I have a child, I find myself remembering a quote from Ray Romano: "The older I get, the more I feel the need to apologize to my mother."  My parents were human, as I am, and I believe they tried their best. There were areas I did not make that easy for them.

Here's what bugs me about the subject of forgiveness, though; or rather, the way some teachers of the Bible handle it. 

This is a version of a Facebook comment I made today. It is snarky, sarcastic, and somewhat facetious, and I admit it is extreme. I made it in response to this link to an article by preacher and abuse advocate Jimmy Hinton. His father, a Church of Christ preacher, is currently serving a lifetime prison sentence for the sexual abuse of children.  

When we Christians talk about "forgiveness", I sometimes think that what we mean is that we want the offended party to instantly forgive. Instant forgiveness means that if they say they're sorry, you say, "I've already forgiven you," and you go on as if nothing happened. That's what Jesus did with our sins, didn't He? He forgave us and he's forgotten our sins. Shouldn't we do the same?

If it's a crime against a victim who happens to be a Christian, again, I think what certain Christians want is for the victim to, again, instantly forgive the offender, stand up for them in court and support them, offer to serve the offender's sentence in his place, "because Jesus did that for me when He died on the cross.  He took my punishment so I wouldn't have to serve it." The victim should write to the offender regularly, telling them about how much God loves them. Perhaps the victim should even visit the offender regularly in prison, to show how much they have forgiven and to show how much God loves them. "If God can give me forgiveness for you, just think how much He loves you and wants to forgive you!"

When the offender gets out of prison, the victim should offer to let them live in their own home; because aren't we supposed to go the extra mile? Aren't we supposed to offer hospitality? 

If the offender is not a Christian, the victim will be the one to convert them.

If the offender is a Christian, the victim will be the one to bring the lost sheep home. 

Then they will both go before the church with the wonderful testimony about how God worked through all of that to enable the two of them to become best friends, and the victim will say, "If I had the choice, I'd go through it all again, because look at what God brought out of it!  Isn't God good?" 

Who knows? They might even team up with a famous author, get their story written and made into a Christian movie!

Okay, my snarkiness is over. 

There are cases where a Christian is sinned against, grieviously, and God has given them the strength to forgive the person who hurt them. I have heard of at least one case where -- if I remember the details correctly -- a drunk driver killed a Christian's child. That Christian was eventually able to forgive the driver and develop a relationship with them. 

Like I said before, if I am going to be a follower of Christ, forgiveness is mandatory. I cannot claim to follow Christ and hold grudges or animosity towards people who have hurt me. 

But letting go of those grudges, or the pain of a wrongdoing done against them, is not immediate. It can take years, sometimes decades. It took me two decades to forgive someone from high school who hurt me. No, it should not have taken that long, but it did. And there are hurts and grudges from childhood that yes, I admit, I still struggle to turn over to God and to let His justice work.

And in some cases of abuse, such as what Jimmy Hinton describes, it is absolutely not healthy for the victim to be around the offender. In cases of sexual abuse, it takes years of therapy with a competent therapist to get past the hurt and the damage that was done. 

It seems that in cases of abuse, nearly all of the expectation is placed on the victim to forgive. Sometimes the victim is even asked, how did you contribute to the situation? The victim is expected to quickly forgive because Jesus quickly forgave. There's one difference, though:  Jesus is the Son of God, He is perfect, and He had that ability to quickly forgive. Victims are not the Son of God. Yes, I believe in forgiveness; I believe people who have been wronged need to forgive . . . but true forgiveness has to be on the victim's timetable and not on the timetable we think it ought to be.

And where is the equal expectation for the offender to repent? Where is the equal expectation for the offender to say, "I'm sorry I hurt you," name the specific ways in which he/she harmed the victim, make restitution if possible, and show the fruits of true repentance?  Maybe one of those fruits is to honor the victim's wish to have no contact with them. 

I write this as an imperfect Christian who struggles to forgive and who prays often, "God, help me forgive.  Sometimes I don't want to but I know You command it of me. Help me." 

But does forgiveness mean that you immediately say "I forgive you," that you never, ever think about it again, and that you treat the offender as if the offense never happened? 

Maybe, in some cases, that above statement is exactly what you should do.

Maybe, in some cases, that above statement is exactly what you should not do.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

The flood that made me?

While Eastern Kentucky is known for coal, rugged and beautiful scenery, and a heritage of independent people, it is also notorious for dangerous flooding.

As I write this, 37 people have died in floodwaters pounding Eastern Kentucky counties such as Knott, Perry (with the aptly named county seat of Hazard), and Letcher. 

Harlan County, my birthplace, has largely been spared the devastation of other areas of Eastern Kentucky. That was not always true. They've dealt with many a flood in the past when the Cumberland River and its feeder forks overflowed their banks. (I wonder if the river was thinking, hey, when you have more rain than you can hold, what do you expect us to do with it?)

After a 100-year flood in 1977, Harlan County had had enough. And over the next years, they built a flood control system that involved, among other things, the rerouting of certain areas of the Cumberland River. So far, in this 2022 flood, it seems to be working.

But before that 100-year flood, Harlan County struggled through its battle with floodwaters. 

Mid-March, 1963, was one of those battles.  It was a week where it rained, and the riverbanks overflowed, and people either had to evacuate due to rising floodwaters or stay in the house because they couldn't go anywhere unless it was by boat. One of my Facebook friends, writer Karen Nolan, remembers getting typhoid shots during that time. 

I've seen pictures of Harlan County floods, of cars that were washed downstream and wound up on Main Street stacked next to each other, of water that reached roof level, of people who have lost everything. 

There was one benefit to that flood, though.

I didn't know until a few years ago that there had been a flood in Harlan in March of 1963.  I'd seen a photo of a flood in Hazard from that time but didn't know it had hit Harlan as well. 

Exactly seven months from that week of rain, water, mud, and destruction . . . I was born.

And I was a preemie.

When I learned that a flood had hit Harlan in March of 1963, and I did the math, I thought, this flood was possibly responsible for my conception. After all, if you can't go anywhere due to water . . . 

(I will say this:  Although my parents' house was not too far from the Cumberland River, it was on a hilltop and, to the best of my knowledge, the water did not come high enough to do major damage. My family was lucky. They did not suffer the losses that so many other families did.)

Right now, so many Eastern Kentuckians have lost so much. It's possible that the death toll will rise from this 2022 flood. Coming back from this flood will take time and energy, and I wonder if some Kentuckians think that rebuilding their lives will take more energy than they have right now. 

Right now is a time to reach a hand out, donate, pray, check on any family in the area. 

But maybe, just maybe, in about nine months -- or maybe a little sooner -- this flood might yield a tiny crop of blessings. 

After all, at least one blessing came from a 1963 flood!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.