Friendship Spanning Time and Space

As I recall my first days at Valparaiso University 11 years ago, I think about the close friendships I developed there, and how some of those close relationships have persisted, spanning the years and the distances.

Indeed, keeping up with my friends has taken me to other places, and one such place is Madison, WI.

My good friends Tyler and Matthew both went to that area to work at Epic, a large company in the healthcare business.

A few years ago, in 2014, just over a year after graduating, I went on a weekend visit to Madison, September 20-21.  I was eager to go on a short trip to visit them and see the sights.

Going there is a good time with friends and taking in those things that befit Wisconsin.

I rode the Megabus from Chicago Union Station to the Madison bus stop nestled in the University of Wisconsin-Madison.  As soon as Tyler and Matthew picked me up, we headed to Capitol Brewery.  Following dinner, we went to a hockey game, with a team from the Madison area playing a team somewhere in the Chicago area, though their names escape me.  Then we went to Tyler's place and played games until bedtime.

The following morning, I went with Tyler to Mass at the church he attended, St. Thomas Aquinas. I'm very intrigued by sacred architecture, and what fascinated me most about this rather modern church is how there were three windows that functioned as skylights, focusing light on the area of the altar.  Notably, the church sanctuary was like a lecture hall, with some of the pews rising high above the floor, so that I actually looked down from those pews at the altar below.

Later on that day, we also ambled around in downtown Madison, along State Street, where private cars are not allowed to drive, and up to the Wisconsin State Capitol, which we went inside to visit.  Matthew has made politics a big hobby, and he's said so much about the state of Wisconsin politics, so it was interesting to visit the state capitol with him.  This was actually my second visit to the Wisconsin State Capitol.  From an observation area, there are great views of the city, and the nearby Lakes Mendota and Monona that flank the isthmus where the capitol sits prominently.

A year later, in 201, during my weeklong "summer break" in between summer and fall terms in graduate school, I went on another weekend visit there, with Matthew and Tyler again, and another friend, Arthur, joining us for much of the time.  I arrived late on a Saturday night, August 29, onboard the Coach USA bus, which I booked through Megabus, and was able to snag the $1 fare.  We stayed up late playing games.  The following day, after Church and a meal, we went to visit the Epic company's campus, which is quite large.  The buildings also have elaborate themed decorations.

Then we made our way over to the University of Wisconsin campus, and met up with my cousin Jessica.  We lingered a while along the shore of Lake Mendota.  My friends and I wrapped up with some Hispanic food for dinner and a walk to the convention center along Lake Monona before Tyler and I went back to his place.  I departed early the next morning.

The years went by, and when this summer of 2020 rolled around, I felt it was time to go back for another visit.  I also felt it would be a good chance to get out and travel for a short trip in the midst of the limitations posed by the pandemic.  It was especially good timing to see Tyler before his move out of Madison for a new job elsewhere.

This time, I had the use of Avila, so I skipped on riding the bus there.  (One thing I liked about the bus was how I could take in the view of the Chicago skyline as it traveled along the Kennedy Expressway toward Union Station.)

So I got in Avila in the afternoon of July 11 and headed northwest.  Similar to the ride on the bus, the drive there was pretty straightforward along I-90, and it actually doesn't take more than 2-3 hours.  Madison comes up especially quick once one crosses the "cheddar curtain" into Wisconsin.

After studying the nearby area on Google Maps, I'm glad I didn't make a wrong turn, especially when exiting the Beltline and getting on Verona Road.  I met up with Matthew at his home in Madison, and Arthur was there, too.  We carried out dinner from Monk's, and the drive there took us by some nature areas.  We dined on his back porch, and then lingered for a while in the evening, playing a game of naming Wisconsin cities, ValpU buildings, and rivers, until the bugs compelled us to go indoors.  I also enjoyed Matthew's piano playing of hymns.

Since there's no visiting Madison without doing something idiosyncratic to Wisconsin, because of the sleeping arrangements, I went to bed with Green Bay Packer sheets, as you can see in the photo below, though my loyaltieis didn't really change when I awoke the next morning.

The following morning, July 12, I met Tyler and his friend at St. Thomas Aquinas for 10:00 Mass.  I once again marveled at the effect evoked by the design of the sanctuary, as you can see in the photo below.

Aftewards, Tyler, Matthew, Arthur, and I met for a meal at C's Restaurant and Bakery in Middleton.  Driving around in the Madison area, I couldn't help but notice the winding nature of the streets. I had cinnamon swirl pancakes, which is in the photo below. 

Like in previous visits, it was a great time of hanging out, making merry, talking about the latest circumstances in the world and with people we know, and musing on past memories.  We also got to hear about Tyler's new work.

There's something so jolly about getting together with friends I spent quality time with in the notable years of college, and re-engaging with those connections that have persisted.  Being with my friends triggered a sense of delight and pleasure within me.  I'm grateful for having such great friends, and for the good times that we continue to have.

And that's what I carried with me as I traveled back to Chicagoland.  On the way home, I had another idiosyncratic Wisconsin experience when I stopped for Culver's custard at what a sign on I-90 billed is the world's largest Culver's restaurant in Newville, which is in the photo below.  The dining room areas certainly looked larger than the Culver's restaurants I've been to previously.

To add to my sense of reconnecting with the past, I saw a group of people I recognized from Oak Park at that Culver's, and one of them was wearing a shirt that had the name of OPRFHS.  Later on the drive, I passed by the AMC 24 Theater in Barrington, where I participated in the 2005 Illinois State Geography Bee 15 years ago.  Somehow, unlike other times when I was on that stretch of I-90, I noticed the theater this time around, perhaps because I recognized the Hilton Garden Inn nearby.

Oh, the wonder of good times and good friends, and the ways we can still connect with them as the years roll along.

One Hour in a Journey

It was 11 years ago today, on Sunday, August 23, 2009, at 11 AM, when I attended Mass for the first time at St. Teresa of Avila (Roman) Catholic Student Center.  The day before, I had moved to Valparaiso University to begin my time as a student there.  Attending Mass for the first time at St. Teresa's totally transformed my understanding of faith, and stoked in me a high level of renewed fervor and zeal for faith.

It's a commonly held notion that many youths go to college and lose their faith.  Thinking back 11 years ago, of all the things that daunted me about transitioning to college, I never had any concern about losing my faith.  I think I had a strong enough faith where I knew I would continue practicing it.  Yet aware of how that is a realistic possibility, I reflect today on what kept me in the path of actively practicing faith.

Valparaiso University is a Lutheran school, with Christian-based values that resonate with me.  I felt like it would be an environment that would keep faith at the forefront for me.  I knew it had a Chapel that figured centrally on campus, both geographically and culturally speaking, and I was drawn to the idea of attending Chapel services on a regular basis while there.  Upon starting there, I recognized the university is a heterogeneous mix of people from different denominations and religions, and I noticed some areas of campus had little connection to anything about faith.  And that's probably what contributed to St. Teresa's having such a vibrant community, especially considering that after Lutherans, Roman Catholics are the largest religious group in the ValpU student body.  Like President Heckler once remarked, if the community has strong faith, they are to put it in dialogue with others, which allowed for religious pluralism on campus, including the vibrant community of St. Teresa's.

What immediately left a lasting impression attending my first Mass at St. Teresa's was how the community was filled with people who had abundant faith and loved God by showing support to students like me.  And I sense that's what kept me involved all four years, namely that I found a sense of belonging through connecting with people in the community, both fellow students and people from the wider community in Valparaiso and beyond.  I recall once when my parents came to visit and we attended Mass that I was introducing them right and left to so many people I knew at St. Teresa's.  Furthermore, I was able to develop deep relationships with my Roman Catholic peers, which is something that never really happened before in my life on such a level.

The other important aspect of my St. Teresa's experience was how I learned so much more about Roman Catholicism.  Since there's so much out there to learn, it's important to keep learning all throughout life--and the principle of lifelong learning is something I've embraced as a librarian professional.  Besides learning more about doctrine and practice, I also spent time in deep self-reflection, especially during retreats.

Upon my graduation from ValpU, I celebrated not only earning my degree, but a renewed sense of living meaningfully, with deep purpose.  I came to see how living life intentionally striving in faith is so enriching.  I also came to understand my purpose through the idea of vocation, how each of us is called to glorify God by a certain lifestyle, doing what is specially suited for us.

I've grown in my awareness of this in the years since graduating, especially in the process of discerning the decision to attend graduate school.

I encountered a great insight about calling in a somewhat unusual source, The Opposite of Woe: My Life in Beer and Politics, the memoir of former Colorado Governor John Hickenlooper.  While there were parts of the book that were rather raunchy, I was intrigued by the twists and turns of his path that led from his time studying English in college to work at an oil company to politics.  In the chapter of the book when he considers the decision to run for Colorado governor, he recalls a conversation with someone who had a background in faith-based ministry, who asked him, "Are you called?"  Mr. Hickenlooper remarks that being called is not so much that one makes a choice, but rather feels she/he has no choice but to do something.  That resonates me with deeply as I think about my calling to teach Religious Education.  It was confirmed explicitly by a parent when I was in conversation with her, and has been affirmed more implicitly through conversations with other parents, not to mention the certainty I feel about what I sense inside me.

And that's probably what caused something to stir deep within me a year ago this month, when I watched Moana for the first time.  I was immediately captivated by the story, because it spoke to me powerfully by shedding light on vocation and purpose.  While Moana is encouraged to focus on what's happening on her island, she senses something calling her that was much broader than what was on the island and much deeper.  Her calling compels her to embark on a journey, much like her ancestors, who, as sung in the movie, journeyed through the oceans, reading the signs, and recalling their ancestors to know who they are as people on a journey, even as they constantly would seek new islands as home.  My intuition was confirmed when a friend at church told me about how a God in All Things podcast connected Moana and vocational discernment.

As I make a point to emphasize to my students, faith is about a journey.  We certainly have an end goal, yet the journey is also important, because it shapes us and so much happens while we're on the way, particularly in those critical Kairos moments.

Today, I celebrate an hourlong period 11 years ago that had an extraordinary impact on my life.  And the reason I celebrate is because of what led to that hour, and what has happened since that hour.  The decision I made to attend Mass that day was the result of several factors converging.  The impact of going to Mass that day persisted through continual involvement at St. Teresa's.  And many were impacted because of how I was shaped by St. Teresa's, like those I served in the vicinity of St. Augustine Mission during a week in March 2013, and then all of my 178 RE students over the course of 7 years of teaching.  

Indeed, Sunday, August 23, 2009, is just one of many reasons why I've had such an incredible journey of faith so far, and as I am confident of marvels to come.

Belting Out What's Inside of Us

The musicals of Rodgers and Hammerstein have undoubtedly woven themselves into the fabric of our society.  I know so from hearing people around me sing selections from songs in those musicals.

One of the first musicals I became familiar with was The Sound of Music, which I watched frequently growing up.

Musicals have attained cultural prominence, I feel, largely because of catchy lyrics that people can just belt out.  One such song I would hear bits and pieces of was the title song from Oklahoma!  At a certain point, I desired to watch the whole musical so I could hear the whole song in its context.

And that's what I did 15 years ago this summer.  As was typical during that summer, I would volunteer at the Maze Branch of the Oak Park Public Library on Mondays, helping with the children's summer reading program.  On Monday, June 27, I checked out Oklahoma!  The next day, Tuesday, in the afternoon, I watched it, and I was taken by it.  Certainly, the "Oklahoma" song was fabulous.  But there were other songs, too, that captivated me, like "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning'", "The Surrey With the Fringe on Top", "Kansas City", "People Will Say We're in Love", and "The Farmer and the Cowman".

Oklahoma! is a great love story.  Furthermore, it's also come to resonate with me lately as I think about how I've ordered my life in accordance with what I've come to see as what matters most.  I see that in how Curly changes his lifestyle.  And some of the songs speak about the land and its richness.

Two years after first viewing the movie, in 2007, I saw an amateur theater production of Oklahoma! at Walther Lutheran High School, which I thought was well-done.  Then I went to see a professional production of it at the Lyric Opera, back in 2013.

A few years after watching Oklahoma!, I decided to watch another Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, State Fair, which, as I understand, was a movie first, and then went on stage to be a theatrical musical.

After watching it for the first time, it became one of my favorite movies, which I consider my favorite "classical era" movie.  Like with my other favorites, I enjoy it so much because the story resonates with me on a deep level.  I feel like I can relate to the characters, like Wayne, who falls for a joke that Emily Edwards poses about her being the daughter of the chief of police.  I know in my own life, people have pulled my leg because I have misunderstood statements they've made.

I also like State Fair so much because it has enough conflict to keep the story interesting, but not so much that it's miserable.  There's a real plot twist toward the end that seems heartbreaking but then makes a great recovery.  In the face of pessimistic realities I encounter in life, some part of me wants to insist on optimism, just like Abel Frake insists nothing bad will happen at the fair in the face of Mr. Miller's constant insistence on negative compensation for happy circumstances.  Somehow, throughout the movie, when circumstances start to sour, they manage to recover remarkably.

Like Oklahoma!, it's a great love story, without excess fluff.  It also speaks to what really matters most in life.  I have to say that I admire Pat for being "Mr. Wonderful" and providing Margey just what she earnestly desires.  While I have not yet entered into any dating relationships, Pat is the type of character that inspires me to want to offer people some measure of genuine friendship that makes life worth living and affirms those to whom I extend my gestures of friendship and affection.

There's something about the setting of the Iowa State Fair that excites me, which is why I was immediately captivated by the opening song "Our State Fair is a Great State Fair". Usually, I view this movie in mid-August, when state and county fairs typically are scheduled.  It's delightful to see the scenes of people enjoying the rides, playing the carnival games, and the competitions of animals and home-prepared foods.  And perhaps I sense a connection to the story since my Grandfather Martin was born and raised in Iowa.

When I saw that the CAST program at Julian Middle School was going to hold a performance of State Fair back in February, I jumped at the chance to see it on stage.  I sensed a personal connection seeing it at my former middle school, and that connection was enhanced when I recognized a couple of the students performing on stage, including one of my RE students.  It was a little bit different than the movie, especially considering logistical matters, and some scenes I thought flowed oddly, like when Pat suddenly jumped up in front of Margery and started conversing with her as their way of meeting.  But the story still spoke to me on stage as it did when I first saw the movie.

Perhaps there's something about State Fair, and other Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals, that speaks to our deep-seated human desire for happiness that can be attained through meaningful relationships, the kind in which we can affirm and build up others, just as they do for us, sustaining us through all life's circumstances.  And when we have a connection with who we are, and the places from which we come, we have much to offer each other.

Going Down East, 20 Years Ago

It was a "Down East" time 20 years ago this summer, from July 24-August 2, when my family vacationed, along the Atlantic coast of Maine.

We flew into Manchester, and then drove from there into Maine, staying for a few days in each of the following locations: Old Orchard Beach, Bar Harbor, and Lubec.

To celebrate the 20th anniversary of that trip, and to continue the spirit of celebration for Maine's Bicentennial, I looked through photos from that trip, some of which are below.

Included are pictures from a family photo album, and a few taken by a disposable camera I used during the trip, which I then put into my own photo album of sorts.  Pictures from the latter are noted.

I'm not 100% certain who took some of these photos.  If it shows all four of us, then it was likely a fellow visitor at the particular spot.  If it has three of us, it's likely the person in our foursome who wasn't in it who took it.

Above, left to right, my brother Eric, Mom, and I pose on the Atlantic shoreline at Old Orchard Beach, near our hotel, which was close to the beach.

Above, I am standing on the beach at Old Orchard Beach.  Below is a full family photo of us at Old Orchard Beach. From left to right, me, Dad, Eric, and Mom.

Above, Eric and I pose in front of the Portland Head Light.

Above is the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean at Old Orchard Beach.

Above is Thunder Hole at Acadia National Park, taken on my camera, and I most likely took it.

Above, Mom and I pose at the summit of Mount Cadillac in Acadia National Park, on a very foggy day.  Below, Dad and I pose at the same spot, in a photo taken with my camera.

Below, I pose at the top of Mount Cadillac on a much clearer day:

Above, I pose at Sands Pond.

I'm posing above with Dad and Mom in Acadia National Park.  Mom is already sporting the lighthouse t-shirt she bought in Bar Harbor, the major town near Acadia National Park on Mount Desert Island.

Below is a photo of Jordan Pond, which I took with my camera.  It may very well be the spot in the photo above.  I remember that we hiked on many trails in Acadia, and I was so taken by what I saw that I started to go at a slower pace.  When that started to frustrate me, Mom affirmed me for my penchant to go at a different pace to take in what was around me.

We sailed on the Margaret Todd, the ship you can see in the photo below, which I took with my camera.

Above is a photo showing me at the Reversing Falls in Pembroke, ME. Below is a photo of Reversing Falls that I took with my camera.

Close to Lubec, we visited West Quoddy Lighthouse (in the photo above), the easternmost lighthouse in the United States.

We encountered Maine's state animal, the moose, on the side of the road while out driving, probably when we were out on our West Quoddy visit, and we certainly had to stop for a photo.

Above: So this isn't actually in Maine, but we spent time in Maine's neighbor, the Canadian province of New Brunswick, to see East Quoddy Lighthouse. I took this on my camera.

As an aside, when we returned from day-tripping in New Brunswick, upon reaching the US-Canada border, we pulled up to the customs booth. Dad handed over our birth certificates, which, in that bygone time, was enough documentation for the border crossing.  As the customs agent looked at them, he asked if we had attended the same Mass as he had just days earlier at Sacred Heart Parish in Lubec, and we realized we had.  That Church was very close to our lodgings.

Above is another family photo, posing in a spot nestled among islands along the New Brunswick coast.  When the tide comes in, the area where we were posing for this photo becomes flooded and is part of the ocean until the tide goes out again.

I took the above photo with my camera: In New Brunswick, we visited Roosevelt-Campobello International Park, preserving the vacation home of the Roosevelt family, where FDR contracted polio.

Somewhere around Lubec, we went on a guided kayaking excursion, which you can see in the photo below.  Dad is to the far left, and I'm to the right of him in the greenish kayak. Mom is to the right of me, and Eric is to the far right, both of them in the yellow kayak.

Above is the Peacock House Bed and Breakfast where we stayed in Lubec, ME.  It looks like Eric in a yellow shirt posing by the sign.

Above is the Southwest Airlines plane that took us from Manchester, NH, back to Chicago-Midway airport, taken on my camera as we awaited boarding.

Dad woke up early one morning to photograph the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean near West Quoddy near Lubec, the first spot where the sun rises over the United States, which you can see in the photo above.