Ramblin' with Roger

Condolences to David Kaczynski

NYADP

In my news feed, I read that the guy identified as the Unabomber, who conducted a bombing spree that spanned nearly two decades, killing three people and injuring 23. had died, apparently by suicide. I immediately thought about his very decent brother, David Kaczynski.

The first time I saw David was about a quarter-century ago at my current church. He was the person who turned in his brother Ted to the authorities.

This 2003 article in the Cornell Daily Sun captured a similar gathering that David had brought together. “Gary Wright… was hit with 200 pieces of shrapnel in February of 1997 by one of [Ted] Kaczynski’s bombs…”

“Bill Babbitt talked about his brother, Manny Babbitt, [the Vietnam vet] who was executed in 1999 for the murder of Leah Schendel” after Bill turned in HIS brother. He believed Manny would be “spared a death sentence — a promise the police” couldn’t keep.

For me, the most compelling speaker was Bud Welch. His “23-year-old daughter, Julie… was killed on April 19, 1995, in the Oklahoma City Bombing… In the days following the crime, Welch said he saw no need for a trial at all. Now, he says he was ‘temporarily insane’ for eight or nine months… He said his views changed slowly, and he realized that [executing] Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols would be an act of vengeance.”

Moreover, Bud Welch became friends with Timothy McVeigh’s father and realized the elder McVeigh, too, was a victim of the heinous crime. I wrote about Bud a few years ago.

Tragedies united these seemingly disparate gentlemen in a common cause: to fight the death penalty. It was a remarkable evening.

Radio silence

From The Business Insider: “In 1995, The Washington Post published a 35,000-word manifesto written by the Unabomber, whose real identity at the time remained unknown, about how technology was destroying humanity.

“The time following the manifesto’s publication was emotionally taxing for David. ‘We never found anything conclusive,’ he stated, ‘for me, it was like a roller coaster. I thought, ‘Am I crazy? A suspicion does not make him the Unabomber.'”

David “remembered Ted as a loving, caring, older brother figure, not a terrorist. He recalled telling himself, ‘I grew up with this man; is it possible I grew up with evil in my own family but was too blind to see who he truly was?'” Ultimately, David made the agonizing decision to turn Ted over to the FBI.

Wikipedia: His brother’s confrontation with the death penalty later motivated David Kaczynski to become an anti-death-penalty activist. In 2001, Kaczynski was named executive director of New Yorkers Against the Death Penalty [now, New Yorkers for Alternatives to the Death Penalty].

“While the mission of NYADP originally focused only on ending the death penalty, under Kaczynski’s guidance in 2008, it broadened its mission to address the unmet needs of all those affected by violence, including victims and their families.”

David’s “decision prompted Ted to cease all communication with his family, including rejecting all of David’s attempted correspondence during his imprisonment.” So I can imagine that David is mourning Ted’s passing because Ted was his big brother, not just the Unabomber.

Unexpected stuff, plus ARA

Deep Throat

One of the vagueries of blogging involves unexpected stuff, like this image from NASA.

I received this email on May 28: “As you may know, our Community Guidelines describe the boundaries for what we allow– and don’t allow– on Blogger. Your post titled “Antoinette” was flagged to us for review. This post was put behind a warning for readers because it contains sensitive content; the post is visible at
http://rogerowengreen.blogspot.com/2005/06/antoinette.html. Your blog
readers must acknowledge the warning before being able to read the
post/blog.” We apply warning messages to posts that contain sensitive content.

“If you are interested in having the status reviewed, please update the content to adhere to Blogger’s Community Guidelines. Once the content is updated, you may republish it at [URL]. This will trigger a review of the post.” For more information, please review the following resources: Terms of Service: https://www.blogger.com/go/terms
Blogger Community Guidelines: https://blogger.com/go/contentpolicy

Sincerely,The Blogger Team”

So I looked at the article, which was about the Tony Awards. I assume the offending part is: “My buddy Fred Hembeck has been extolling the wonderfulness of one Mark Evanier for some time, and Mark has a lot to say about the Tonys that I found interesting… He also writes about medical marijuana (6/6) and Deep Throat (6/3), topics covered recently on this page, and how the rich get richer, and the myth of the “death tax” (6/6), which I would have written about had I had something cogent to say.”

Could it be a passing reference to Deep Throat, which was not about the 1972 movie but about the guy who fed information to Woodward and Bernstein about Watergate?

Resolution

After musing about this for three days, I decided to submit the piece for approval, unaltered. The response?

“Hello.

We have re-evaluated the post titled “Antoinette” against Community
Guidelines https://blogger.com/go/contentpolicy. Upon review, the post has been reinstated. You may access the post at
http://rogerowengreen.blogspot.com/2005/06/antoinette.html.

Sincerely,The Blogger Team”

At some level, the situation is comical. There’s no THERE there. And it did not prevent you from seeing a blog post I wrote EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO.

Conversely, I’m troubled by the kneejerk reaction of some anonymous person, or bot, who decided that something I wrote was salacious/pornographic without even understanding the context of Deep Throat. It’s the dumbing down of America.

Another matter: A guy wrote, “I’m working on cleaning my website, and I need your help in removing a link from your site. Your site is probably perfectly legitimate, but I’m just trying to eliminate as many links as possible.

Here’s the page on your site with the link: https://www.rogerogreen.com/2022/04/27/april-rambling-shadow-docket/

“Once you’ve removed the link(s), please send me a quick note so I can create a record of it. Thanks in advance! I hope to hear from you soon.”

This was one of my linkage posts, so sure. Whatever. It’s good to know my blog is “probably legitimate.”

I almost forgot: Ask Roger Anything!

The initial motivation for this post was to get you to Ask Roger Anything. I’m particularly looking for musically thematic pieces to write.

Now when I say Anything, maybe you should make sure that the questions don’t use the words ass (an animal) or bitch (an animal) or Uranus (a planet). God knows, I mean Allah knows, not that, I mean heaven knows SOMEONE will misconstrue my intent.

I’ll answer your questions in the next month or so. And I have received a few questions already. Please pose your questions in the blog’s comments section, email me at rogerogreen (AT) Gmail (DOT) com, or contact me on Facebook. Always look for the duck.

Roissy en France

Notre histoire en couleurs

May 20: I may have said we were returning to Paris, but we were actually going to Roissy en France.

We eat breakfast at the B&B. There was a giant jukebox in the dining area with dozens of 45s. We talked to a couple from the wedding. The dancing didn’t start until 1 a.m.!

We saw Father Thomas, who was also staying at the locale. My wife drove from Tredion back to Auray, which took about an hour. We returned the rental car and stopped at the cafe we visited three days ago.

Our travel documents suggested we might take a TERTRAIN from Auray to Redon, leave at 13:05, and arrive at 14:30. Because they were doing track work, we took a bus. It was rather uncomfortable, as I couldn’t put my feet under the seat in front of me.

The TGVTRAIN from Redon to PARIS MONTPARNASSE was nice, but it took a while, from 14:50 to 18:07.

I should have used the loo on the train. The bathroom at the train station cost 50 Euro cents, but it didn’t work! Finally, we went to another level and spent another Euro in a locale with an attendant.

We still needed to get to our hotel in Roissy en France, near the airport. My wife decided we’d take a taxi. With the stop-and-go traffic, it took at least an hour, which made it a pricey choice.

After we dropped off our stuff, we went to eat. We opted against the dining choices at the hotel. Wandering into town, we found a Chinese/Thai restaurant with one of the broadest menus I’ve ever seen.

Our last day in France

After breakfast, we wandered into the charming town. We came across a series of about 40 placards describing France’s history. They were from the book Notre histoire en couleurs, OUR STORY IN COLORS, by Xavier Mauduit.

“This book is a walk through time, a stroll through yesterday’s world where everything is suddenly in color. A unique experience for all generations!

“Let’s find our poets and our novelists, Baudelaire, Hugo, Proust or even Colette, without forgetting all the anonymous people, students, workers, peasants. Let’s walk the streets of our cities and the roads of our countryside.” This was an unexpected joy.

My wife got a hotel employee to get us to the airport. We were delivered to the right terminal, 2, but the wrong section. Fortunately, Charles De Gaulle Airport has a train system like the AirTrain to JFK.

Unlike the chaos at Delta at JFK, getting the boarding pass at Air France was simple and uncrowded. After checking through various checkpoints, we got to our gate quickly. We got some excellent airport food, which is not an oxymoron.

Our eight-hour flight – leaving at 19:30 Paris time and arriving at 21:45 NYC time, was mainly uneventful. However, I was surprised how far back the guy in front of me could push back his seat, further than anyone around him.

We deboarded the plane. I was trying my new Mobile Passport Control app, which I couldn’t send until I determined what terminal we were at. I don’t know if it helped or not. We got through two Customs checkpoints far faster than the debacle we experienced in 1999 after returning from Barbados.

One of the folks from my church choir had agreed to pick us up. Now the terminal at JFK WAS a zoo, but we found each other. Carol and I rode home in about 3.5 hours. Our daughter had waited up until 2 a.m. for us, which was very sweet.

My forebearers

In search of Margaret Collins

Here is a graphic of my current forebearers up to my great-grandparents. Click on it to biggify; many thanks to Arthur. You’ll note that I have identified 12 of the 16. I don’t have the parents of Samuel Walker, my father’s mother’s father. I’ve gotten hints from Ancestry, but they do not direct me to the correct person.

Also, I haven’t located Margaret Collins’ parents, though I went to a genealogist specializing in Irish lineage for that particular purpose. Margaret is my mother’s father’s mother. A town historian found her death certificate, but it only mentions her father’s surname and doesn’t identify her mother.

However, much to my surprise, I DID find the parents of Charles Williams, and I wasn’t even looking for them. Charles remarried in 1921 to Margaret Greenleaf; he married ANOTHER Margaret, presumably so he wouldn’t have to worry about saying his previous wife’s name in error. Charles’ parents were mentioned on the marriage license. Daniel Williams and Sarah Benson have a compelling story I will tell later this year.

I’ve also been aided in pursuing Margaret Collins Williams by my buddy Melanie, who cracked the case of my biological grandfather Raymond Cone.

Extend the parameters

Both Melanie and the Irish genealogist recommended that I pay attention to the people, not just in my direct line.

Here’s a picture of who I believe are baseball players. One of them is very likely to be Charles Williams (b. 1884 or 1885), the older son of Charles and Margaret Williams, my great-grandparents, and the brother of my grandfather Clarence Williams. In the 1910 US Census, the younger Charles’ occupation was listed as “ball player.”

Some lines go back much further than others. If I go back, two and three generations from Sarah Eatman were Thomas Eatman Sr and Jr, enslavers from North Carolina. Two generations earlier, I can find my British roots. Likewise, Mahala Price leads back to Brits, Price, and Hackney.

I’ve long known the identity of Harriet Bell’s parents, Phillis Wagner and Edward Bell. Edward, I suspect, was enslaved in New York north of NYC but manumitted before 1810.

Sunday Stealing: Je ne comprends pas

“common sense”

The new Sunday Stealing.

1) What is your favorite way to spend a lazy day?

Je ne comprends pas. Qu’est-ce qu’une journée paresseuse ? I’m not feeling “a lazy day” of late. If I did have one, I would watch the Tonys and the National Spelling Bee Finals, in that order, which I have recorded.

2) What do you look forward to every week?

I like seeing folks at church and attending the Tuesday noon book reviews.

3) Name three pet peeves you currently have

Certain people think their way is the only way.

Some people are “all hat, no cattle”; a recent example is Antonio Brown, the braggadocious owner of the Albany Empire Arena Football team, who got his team booted from the league for non-payment. He reminds me of a particular politician whom he said he admired.

Bad drivers, bike riders, and pedestrians.

4) Where would you choose to go if you were to win an all-expense paid vacation for two weeks to anywhere in the world? What are some of the things you would like to experience while you were there?

I need to go to either Asia, Africa, or South America. I suppose I’d go to Nigeria to be on the grounds of my ancestors. I’m 20% Nigerian, almost entirely on my father’s side. Maybe there are some resources there that would help with my genealogical search. And if not, it’d be worth it anyway.

One Man Army

5) What was one of your favorite toys as a kid? Did you save any special things from your childhood that you still have today?

The only toy I can remember is a Johnny Seven OMA (One Man Army), a multi-function toy weapon produced by Deluxe Reading under their Topper Toys toyline and released in 1964.” It was the best-selling boys’ toy that year. I’m fairly sure I used it in antiwar film my friends made five years later. Featured on Law and Order: Criminal Intent. “Detective Robert Goren finds one in a toy store and demonstrates all seven firing modes” (Episode: Collective) June 2006. Because I’ve dealt with collectibles, I remember seeing that scene and howling with laughter.

The things I have from my childhood tend to be books. One in my line of vision is Play the Game: the Book of Sport, edited by Mitchell V. Charnley (1931). This was an anthology of sports stories from American Boy magazine from 1923 to 1931, which I read repeatedly.

6) What is your favorite holiday? What is your least favorite holiday?

My favorite is Thanksgiving, though I’ve had some terrible ones. My least favorite is Memorial Day because too many people don’t know what it’s supposed to mean.

7) Have you ever met anyone famous? What concerts have you attended?

I’ve answered the famous question recently. Here are some concerts I’ve attended. It does NOT include several classical concerts, mostly the Albany Symphony Orchestra. The one that stands out featured Evelyn Glennie, the percussionist.

Not so common

8) Are there any expressions that people use that really annoy you? If so, what are they?

There are several, but I’ve blocked most of them out. “Common-sense” reforms or gun laws or whatever bugs me because it presupposes some agreed-upon definition of “common sense.”

9) Do you like your name? Are you named after anyone? Is there a story how you got your name? Would you change it if you could? If so, what name would you give yourself?

I’ve told this story before, but I can’t find it. My father named me. At some point after I was born, he was over at his cousin’s house furiously writing…something. He was coming up with a name for which the initials spelled out something but nothing offensive or complicated for me to live with. So Roger Owen Green spelled out ROG. It was brilliant. I love the name, and I wouldn’t change it.

I was not named for anyone. Curiously, my sister Leslie was named after my father. I can’t begin to understand that logic.

10) It is said that it’s the little things that make life worth living. Name five of those little things in your life

Music. And not listening to it but math: 4/4, 6/8, 3/2 et al. The inverted pedal point. Modulations.

Math. 0 squared + 0 +1= 1 squared. 1 squared+1+2=2 squared. 2 squared+2+3=3 squared. Figuring out if a number is divisible by 3 or by 9. License plate algebra.

History. Being a keeper of the history of FantaCo, the comic book store where I worked from May 1980 to November 1988. Doing genealogy and having some luck; see tomorrow’s post.

White noise. It helps me sleep.

Electricity.