Lift Up Your Hearts!

We love having folks over for dinner:  good conversation, a chance to catch up, the opportunity to fix dishes that don't work well for two people, and an excuse to make desserts—not to mention inspiration to stop procrastinating on various indoor and outdoor work that needs to be done!  The folks who came last night are the best kind, those who cheer the meal with enthusiasm, whether it's an experimental, untested recipe, an old favorite, or plain comfort food.

Raclette is Swiss comfort food.  More popular even than fondue in Switzerland (according to my favorite authority on All Things Swiss), raclette is an easy meal (at least it is if you don't spend all day on the above-mentioned procrastinated projects).  In Switzerland it's even a budget meal; sadly, raclette cheese is a gourmet item here, but well worth it for a festive occasion.  I made the meal still more festive by choosing the colorful and flavorful Celebration Blend from Potato Inspirations; interesting potatoes are another food common in Europe but a specialty product here.

This is where Swiss purists should stop reading.  Instead of the traditional pickled onions and cornichons, we served steamed zucchini and yellow summer squash.   To my prejudiced American mind, that's a healthier as well as tastier accompaniment.  And we had cherry crisp with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Good food, better company.  We should do this more often.  There are still more projects to be accomplished....

Note:  Raclette, the Sequel will be performed sometime during the first two weeks of May.

The world lost a wonderful writer today, though at 98 you can hardly say she died young.  Dora Jessie Saint, aka Miss Read, was one of my favorite authors.  Her stories, almost all depicting English village life, were written between 1955 and 1996.  As you can imagine, there was a great deal of societal change over those years, and Miss Read did not ignore it, but demonstrated that good character and old-fashioned virtues never change.

Her stories are not exciting, they have little action and less plot.  Yet they are delightful, a refreshment to the soul, like a long walk through the countryside with spring all around, or a cool breeze through a garden on a warm summer day.

Miss Read has been described as the Jan Karon of England.  I enjoyed reading the Mitford books, but that comparison is wrong on so many levels.  Not only do Fairacre and Thrush Green predate Mitford by decades, but as a writer Miss Read is immeasurably the superior.

(H/T to DSTB for the news.)

Mark's Story by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins (Putnam Praise, 2007)

This, the second story in The Jesus Chronicles, is a bold, not to say brazen, attempt to show the events of Jesus' life and of the early church through the eyes of the author of the Gospel of Mark.  I hadn't planned to read anything more by LaHaye and Jenkins, not after my disappointment with their Left Behind series, which had an interesting premise but could have used writers who were as serious about the story they were crafting as they were about the message they wanted to get across.  As I've said before, great writers manage to convey many messages through their works, but people who start writing with a message in mind tend to write mediocre novels.  But Mark's Story was recommended by a friend whom I respect, and she backed up the recommendation by lending me the book.

Tackling any part of the the Bible though the medium of historical fiction is risky, and I wondered how LaHaye and Jenkins—who so clearly reverence the Book as the written, infallable, word of God—would dare to add to what the Scriptures have to say.  Well, they were smarter than me, and solved that problem—not to mention the need to get their word count up to book size—by quoting passages of the New Testament verbatim, and at length.  Mark's "story" is merely the lubricant that allows the quotations to slide together into a coherent narrative.

I must say that the authors have done a credible job of piecing together the Gospels, the book of Acts, and the letters of Paul and Peter, along with what we know of early church history, while adding only enough new material to make the story flow, to show how Mark might have learned the stories he tells in his Gospel, and to get across their own biases and interpretations.  The last should surprise no one who has read the Left Behind books.

Unfortunately, that much of the material is straight Scripture I actually found to be a detraction.  I'd rather read the Bible itself, because—at least to someone very familiar with the facts—what is added did not give enough story to the narrative.  I wasn't eager to turn the page to find out what was going to happen, and the book has none of the character development that makes me happy to re-read books I know almost by heart.

For someone less familiar with the New Testament, however, this might be a good introduction.  As I said, the authors succeeded in weaving a chronological tapestry from writings that are anything but chronological.  And despite my complaints, I may go ahead and read the rest of the series, just to see what they can do with the other Gospel writers.  If I think of Mark's Story as one of those modern "specialty Bibles" with denominational commentary, it "works" better for me.

Wonderful Fool by Shusaku Endo, translated by Peter Owen (Tuttle Publishing, 1974; originally published in 1959)

I am currently on a schedule of reading one Shusaku Endo book per Swiss grandchild born.  I'm definitely warming to his writing, so perhaps I should visit Switzerland more often.

This thoughtful exploration of what might happen when innocence and love meet everyday society, though less depressing than most of the stories in Stained Glass Elegies, is hardly the "light, humorous novel" promised in the Introduction.  It is, however, uplifting and redemptive.  It is also well written, for which credit no doubt goes to both the author and the translator.  I especially enjoy the vision of Japan through Japanese eyes, and the small advantage our brief visit to that country has given me.  The one part of the translation that strikes me as odd when I read it is the persistent use of the appellation "foreigner" in a way it would not be used in English.  Yet when I imagine the speakers saying "gaijin" instead, the language flows and the usage makes sense.

The summary on the back cover is excellent, so rather than reinvent an inferior wheel, here it is:

Wonderful Fool is Shusaku Endo's gentle and humorous narrative of "mudswamp Japan"—his phrase for the Japanese inner world of moral apathy and insensitivity to God and sin.  A young Frenchman, Gaston Bonaparte, comes to Japan for the first time, and we see Japan afresh through his eyes. At first he seems to be the utter fool both in his ugly horseface appearance and slow-witted thought, but he gradually charms those around him as he bumbles through Japanese society, making mistake after mistake.  In spite of his mistakes, those around him start to see some endearing qualities in his pure love of both people and animals.  Gaston's wanderings take him to the seamier places in Japan, as he spends time in Sanya with day laborers, in Shibuya with fortune tellers, in Shinjuku with prostitutes, and eventually hooks up with a professional killer.  His two young hosts, Takamori and his sister Tomoe, are drawn into Gaston's world and forced to take a deeper look at their own lives and values.  Both a provocative tale of clashing culture and new-found morals, Wonderful Fool also serves as a kind of guidebook to a hidden Tokyo and Japan that few foreigners may have a chance to experience.

A friend posted this on Facebook, and it still makes me smile.  Except for the singular "Grandmother," which just sounds wrong on more than one level.

The Stories of Emmy:  A Girl Like Heidi by Doris Smith Naundorf (Xulon Press, 2010)

Doris Smith Naundorf is known in upstate New York as The Story Lady.  The Stories of Emmy are taken from her one-woman play, Interweaving the Generations.  Emmy, Doris's mother, grew up partly in her Swiss village of Muttenz, and partly in Paterson, New Jersey, where her family moved when she was ten years old.  Her stories give a delightful glimpse into Swiss, American, and immigrant life in the early 1900's.  (Grandchild warning:  There is one sad incident requiring parental discretion; the stories are meant to be appropriate for chidren, but reality is sometimes harsh.)

Muttenz is near Basel (four minutes by train, a century later), and the stories are sprinkled with Baseldeutsch, the delightful Swiss-German dialect spoken there.  A glossary is provided for each chapter.

Driving the several blocks to the train station, Emmy excitedly chattered to her father.  "Will we get there in time, Vatti? she asked.  "Mutti says we must be there early, so we will not miss the train."

"Jo, jo," replied her father.  "In a country that makes such fine watches and clocks, of course the Zúúg runs on time.  It is up to the passengers to be there early so the conductors can keep their schedule."

"The Zúúg, the train, is never late?"

"Of course not!  We Swiss cannot even imagine such a thing!" her father assured Emmy.

I couldn't resist finding Emmy, age 20, and her family in the 1920 census.  (Click on the image to view a version large enough to read.  Their name, Lüscher, appears without its umlaut.)

... and also why it's great to be attending a church close to home.

Sunday:  Palm/Passion Sunday Service

Tuesday:  Stations of the Cross

Wednesday:  Tennebrae Service

Thursday:  Maundy Thursday Service, Agape Meal, Stripping of the Altar, Prayer Vigil

Friday:  Good Friday Liturgy

Saturday:  Easter Vigil, Baptisms, Kindling of New Fire, joyous ringing of bells, First Eucharist of Easter

Sunday:  Easter Sunday (singing Rutter, Vivaldi, Handel, and much, much more!)

And these are only the services we attended/plan to attend; I've left out quite a few.

30 Reasons Why You Light Up Our Lives
(It was hard to stop!)

1. From early childhood you have loved God “with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”
2. You were the sunniest, most joyfully enthusiastic preschooler I’ve ever known, full of smiles and laughter.
3. Your positive, happy attitude is, and always has been, quickly turned to wrath in the presence of perceived injustice, to others at least as much as to yourself.
4. You love your family intensely, all generations and collateral branches, and work sacrificially to promote family relationships.
5. All your life you have maintained a close, loving, and respectful relationship with your parents.
6. You were a totally delightful, respectful teenager, growing more and more independent without ever rejecting your parents and their values in any important way.
7. You have always found learning to be the “best game of all,” whether begging for math lessons as a preschooler, crafting your own educational program as a teen, or reading and researching voraciously as an adult.
8. You developed the most important skill needed to fuel a lifetime of learning (also useful for excelling in ordinary academic life):  the ability—and desire—to teach yourself using whatever materials are available, from textbooks to teachers to life experiences.
9. Your favorite mode of education has been what you call “learning to swim by drowning”—throwing yourself into a new situation, a new instrument, a new language, a new country; putting yourself in a situation where the alternative to learning is failure.
10. Your razor-sharp intellect and grasp of logic can be counted on to ferret out faulty or slip-shod reasoning.
11. Likewise, you readily admit when you are wrong, if presented with a clear, rational argument.
12. You are always asking thoughtful, important questions. (And always have, much to the annoyance of certain Sunday school teachers.)
13. Unlike most of us (your parents being chief offenders), you can never settle for plugging numbers into a formula or regurgitating the answer expected by a teacher, but with a dogged determination you wrestle with your studies until you truly understand the material.
14. Equally determined in your relationships, you will not gloss over problems, but wrestle with yourself and others to understand and resolve difficulties.
15. You are a very creative thinker; being self-taught in so many ways has made thinking outside the box second nature.
16. You also live outside the box:  You have become the "granola mom" I never knew I always wanted to be.
17. You never conform for the sake of conforming, following the crowd only if convinced by the evidence that the crowd is right, and  unhesitatingly taking the road less travelled if the evidence points in that direction.
18. And you are happy to blaze a new trail cross-country if there is no road at all!
19. Your sense of adventure and love of new experiences have taken your from an (unauthorized) solo exploration of the docks of Key Largo at age three, to travelling through Italy on your own, to spending a year in Japan teaching English to high school students, to graduate school (and eventually a home) in Switzerland.
20. You are a talented, skilled, and highly-trained musician who demonstrates with your life that music comes alive when it is made with and/or for others.
    
21. You waited patiently until God revealed the right man to be your husband and the father of your children;  you love him intensely, respect him enormously, and delight in being the “helper suitable for him.”
22. You have made your home into a place of hospitality, welcome, grace, beauty, joy, and peace (even though your lovely and lively children ensure that nothing is ever too peaceful for too long).
23. You are a loving, giving, thoughtful, disciplined, and inventive mother.
24. You have proven that you have the nerve and determination to push through physical and emotional pain for the sake of those you love and what you believe is right.
    
25. You are a great teacher, with a demonstrated ability—rare in someone for whom understanding often comes quickly and easily—to see a problem from the student’s point of view, whether helping kindergarten students as a third-grader, tutoring high school students, inspiring Japanese students to enjoy the English language, coaxing enthusiasm out of young piano students, showing your mother the virtues of a “tickler” system, or feeding your own children’s “happy hunger” for learning.
26. You have a good eye for seeing work that needs to be done, and a good will for jumping in and doing it.
27. You are honest and trustworthy in word and in deed.
28.  You are careful and wise in financial matters.
29.  At the same time, you are generous and giving:  of your money, your time, and your emotional energy.
30. Your heart’s desire is to become more and more like Christ each day, and to demonstrate his love in all you say and do.

What more could parents desire?

Happy Birthday!

With lots and lots of love,
Mom & Dad

This morning's news brought two articles that illustrate the truth that our world is never as simple as we want to make it.

Sickening Tea?  I've read and reviewed Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea and Stones into Schools, and believe his Central Asia Institute (CAI) is doing wonderful work, promoting "peace through education."  The Montana Attorney General's office agrees, even while concluding, after a year-long investigation, that Mortenson "mismanaged [CAI] and personally profited from it."  He has been ordered to repay $1 million in mis-spent funds to the charity.  (H/T DdR)

This is not the only organization I know where the founder and leader enjoys luxurious living while taking donations from those who can least afford to give.  I absolutely don't believe such people should live in poverty themselves—one of my most-quoted Bible verses is Deuteronomy 25:4, You shall not muzzle an ox when it treads out the grain.  But I think those who work for non-profit organizations, especially charities, and whose living is supported by the sacrificial donations of others, have a special responsibility to live moderately.

The larger fault lies with our star-struck, personality-worshipping society, however.  We breed such problems.  Porter once spent a summer in Bangladesh, back when merely being white automatically sent you to the front of a line.  In fact, that was his chief duty while working for a charitable organization there:  to accompany the Bengali workers on their errands, thereby ensuring that they could purchase bags of cement, for example, before the supply ran out.  It does not take many such occasions of deference, he reported, to begin to take them for granted, and to believe, even against your will, that you somehow deserve them.  How much harder must be the temptation for big-name personalities to absorb the idea that they deserve, or even require, special treatment, and luxuries inappropriate to their calling?

Human nature longs for heroes to worship.  But doing something great does not mean a person is great.  We can do much good without being truly good.  Which is a very good thing indeed, because even the best of us are frail, fallen humans.  Mortenson's sins do not make the work of the Central Asia Institute any less valuable, though they do clearly underscore the critical importance of financial safeguards and accountability.

Helpful Pollution?  As one who remembers filthy rivers—that sometimes caught fire!—and the choking, sickening smell of toxic smog, I'm the first to hail the dramatic reduction in industrial pollution that has been accomplished in my lifetime.  However, a recent study of the effects of aerosol pollutants on clouds indicates that the climate equation is—surprise!—a bit more complex than we want to believe.

"When industrial pollution peaked over the Atlantic, this effect played a big role in cooling the ocean beneath," Paul Halloran, a study co-author and ocean scientist with the British government's Met Office weather service, said in a statement accompanying the study. "As pollution was cleaned up—for example after the clean air legislation of the '90s —the seas warmed."

It turns out more aerosols make clouds brighter and longer lasting, thus reflecting sunlight back up and cooling seas. Less do the opposite, warming seas.

Among the consequences of a warmer Atlantic?  The end of our 40-year respite from intense hurricane activity.

Not, of course, that increasing pollution is the answer.  According to Ben Booth, the study's co-author,

"While cool phases correspond to periods with lower hurricane activity in the North Atlantic, "they are also linked with widespread persistent African drought (1970s and 1980s)—with all the associated food and mortality related impacts."

The moral?  If a situation appears simple, clear, and easy to analyze, we're probably missing something important.

As noted in a previous post, I've been having a blast with the just-released 1940 census.  I did not use Ancestry.com's census site as much as I had hoped, as the locations they chose to upload first were not the ones I was, at the time, looking for.  (Their census maps were invaluable, however.)  Initially I had to depend on the National Archives' site, which was more than a little frustrating, as they had seriously underestimated how high demand would be, and the system crashed early in the day.  By the next day it was up, but slow.  Still, I didn't mind too much clicking "next page" and then doing something else for a while.  What was most exasperating was the inability to choose to go to a specific page number without going through the agonizing "next, next, next" process.

I found Steve Morse's site more useful than the NARA's site itself, even though he links to the NARA images.  Don't ask me how he did it, but I got a much faster (though still slow) response time for the NARA images through his site than directly from theirs.

Easiest of all to investigate were my Florida relatives, as Florida was one of the first states uploade by FamilySearch.  They, at least, know the value of the ability to "go to page 5"!  Their save image function worked better than the NARA's did in the early days, also.

The great news is that Ancestry.com says it will have every image online by no later than 2 p.m. tomorrow (Friday).  Remember, the 1940 census is free on Ancestry for all of 2012, and much more of Ancestry's impressive content is free until April 10.  FamilySearch is always free.

Ancestry's YouTube channel has a number of videos that might be helpful for someone who wants to dive into this.

As for me, I plan to investigate the Ancestry site once the database is complete, but basically I'll have to wait until the images have been indexed to do much more.  I found all eight of our grandparents and their families, plus a few others who were nearby, because I already knew where they were living in 1940.  For those whose location I'm trying to discover, it makes no sense to spend hours and hours pouring over census images when merely waiting will make the job so much easier.  I'll admit it's fun, though!

Okay, folks, the spam comments have really gotten out of hand.  Heretofore I have always at least glanced at them, to make sure they truly were spam.  But only once, ever, that I can recall, was a comment marked as spam actually something worthwhile.  So I'm finally going to take advantage of the handy administrative button that says "Purge Spam" and delete it all without looking.  If this ends up deleting a comment you make, please forgive me and try again.  Comments from those not previously approved will still be delayed by moderation.  Those, too, are almost all spam, but I always check them out in person.  It's the comments the filters know are spam that will no longer be seen by human eyes.  :)

Our much-beloved Bishop of Central Florida, John Howe, retired this year.  The bishop-elect was Gregory O. Brewer, and Saturday was his service of consecration.  Choir members from all over the diocese were invited to participate in a massed choir for the event.  We almost missed it.

We had an event on Friday that took up half the afternoon and most of the evening, and a concert Saturday night.  The Consecration would take up most of the (all too short) waking hours in between.  Neither of us felt we had that kind of time and energy to spare.  But God has his ways of nudging the recalcitrant, and we gave in.  After all, had he not just brought us to this church, and hence this opportunity?¹  And when would we again have the opportunity to sing with such a large and excellent choir?

Before the big day, our choir had but one, two-hour rehearsal.  The music, much of it commissioned especially for the service, was difficult.  But it was fun, and we anticipated being able to lean on a large group of well-trained, well-rehearsed singers.  Our diocese has some large and fabulous choirs.

We've sung in many choirs, and many times have heard the refrain, "We must order new choir robes."  Never, however, has the action been so quick and efficient:  a month after my first choir rehearsal, our new robes were in hand.  It was perhaps a bit unfortunate that they arrived the day before the big Saturday event—just in time for me to pick them up from the church before heading out to our big Friday event.  Of course, they needed to be washed, dried, ironed, and in my case hemmed, so I was up until after midnight that night.²

All too soon we were awake again.  Lunches, robes, and music in hand, we trekked to First Baptist Orlando, where rehearsal began at 8:30.  On driving into the parking lot, my reaction was, "This isn't a church, it's a theme park."  They really missed a bet with the parking:  the sections should have had names, like Disney's "Pluto" and "Minnie"³ or Universal's "Jaws" and "Jurassic Park."  Can you imagine it?  Remember, your car is parked in Matthew 18.  First Baptist is a huge church, which is why the service was held there and not in any of the Episcopal churches in town.  (As the new bishop pointed out in his post-ordination comments, it was also symbolic of his hopes to be involved in many cooperative efforts with other Central Florida churches.)  We assembled in the choir room, with its jaw-dropping rack after rack of hanging robes, and its equally astonishing music library.  It must be wonderful to sing in such a choir every week.⁴

Rehearsal was GREAT.  The physical circumstances were a little difficult, as apparently the church was in the middle of some big production, for which an edifice had been built that divided the choir in two and completely covered the organ.  The organist could see and hear the conductor through a television monitor, but the communication was one-way only.  It led to some frustrating, and funny, moments.  But all in all it was a wonderful experience. How I've missed the whole "musical scene" we were so much a part of when our kids were younger.  I know musicians can be temperamental and hard to get along with at times, but they are a good example of how a community of those who have significant differences, and plenty of reasons not to get along with each other, can come together to accomplish great things.  In fact, I think that's a pretty good model of how the church should be.  Anyway, it felt great to be respected, and treated professionally, and to watch the real professionals at work.

We weren't coddled, nor led by the hand.  We were expected to know the music already; the purpose of rehearsal was to put all the parts—choir, soloist, instrumentalists, lighting, sound system—together.  Did I say above that we were hoping to "lean on a large group of well-trained, well-rehearsed singers"?  Well, er, hrmph.  Right.  Of course there were a few choirs that fit that description, but aside from them, we turned out to be one of the better-prepared choirs!  I had expected to lean, not to lead!  But it all worked out well, and one of the great pleasures of the day was the experience of making such great music with so little preparation.  Could it have been better?  Absolutely!  But it was good enough, it was very good, and the time/effort ratio was fantastic.  (That is, it was for us peons.  Some folks had obviously put in a lot of work.)

We'd both brought work to do during the "down times."  Ha!  We barely had time to swallow lunch, get robed, and say a few words to the friends who were there from all over the diocese.  We were back in our seats and ready to go by 12:30, thinking we were being good and early, as the time advertised for the beginning of the service was 1:00.  I do not know how that happened, but that time was everywhere, including the diocesan website and the live video stream.  If we had come only for the service, we would have walked in at 12;50, maybe 12:55.  And we would have missed a great deal, because things actually started at 12:30!

I doubt anyone reading this has the time and patience to sit through the videos below, so I'll indicate some of the high points with approximate time markers.  It was wonderful from start to finish, however, and quite moving to be part of it.  If the choir looks scared at some points, well, it's because we were!  Singing without adequate preparation requires concentration, and work!  Once, in rehearsal, we were singing about being glad, and the conductor pleaded, "Now, could you just manage to look glad?"  At one point in the Psalm, the camera even catches the soloist with that "Where are we?" look on her face.

What the video misses by starting with the procession is the organ prelude, the choir's anthem O Taste and See (Vaughan Williams); the youth choir's anthem I Sing a Song of the saints of God, which had a lovely flute part, played by the person who was elementary school music teacher for at least three of my regular readers; two hymns (Blessed Assurance and Amazing Grace); Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man; and an instrumental piece (Veni, Sancte Spiritus) written specifically for the occasion by Andrew Walker, who directed the choir most of the time (and was fantastic to work with).

Just to prove we were there :).  Janet and Stephan watched the live video stream, from Switzerland, and caught these screen shots.

(Click on the photos to enlarge.)

View of the church from the structure that divides the choir area.

Where you land if you back up too far while taking pictures.  That's not a baptistry, that's a swimming pool!

Here's the service bulletin (pdf).

Part 1of the service.

• 0:01:05 Anthem:  Let the People Praise You by Benjamin Lane and Michael Miller.  Probably the most difficult piece, but it's the one we worked on the most.  It was quite impressive once we got it all together.  In the middle, all the churches of the Diocese of Central Florida are named, praising God.
• 0:10:00 Sanctus (Peter Scholtes)
• 0:14:50 Motet:  Ubi Caritas by Peter Mathews
• 0:33:34 Recessional hymn:  A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
• 0:39:15 Postlude: Grand Choeur Dialogue (E. Gigout)

The service did a wonderful job of expressing the diversity of the Diocese.  Several different languages were spoken or sung, and many different styles of music contributed.  The only disappointment was the Communion music (between Ubi Caritas and the recessional).  It was contemporary Christian "praise music," and—difficult as this may be for those who know me to believe—I had been looking forward to joining in wholeheartedly.  It's far from my favorite worship music, but in this context it would have been joyful to sing, especially since several of the pieces were at least somewhat familiar.  But as it turned out, the choir was not expected to sing; that was left to the praise band.  We were invited to sing if we wanted to, but I soon gave up because:   (1) The speaker volume, which had been fine for the whole service, was for these songs cranked up to such a high level that I had to scramble for my earplugs, and if you've ever sung with earplugs in, you know that you hear your own voice much more than other singers, which is very uncomfortable when you don't know the song well and are trying to blend in.  (2) Some choir members were singing, but most had not been provided music and didn't know the songs, which contributed even more to my feeling that my voice was standing out.  (3)  Our choir director had thoughtfully found music for the songs when he realized that we didn't have it, but it was pretty much useless because the band didn't follow the music.  I don't think they even followed the bulletin; at least I know we didn't get to sing In Christ Alone, which I know well.  Anyway, even though it was a bit of a letdown from the choir seats, I heard that the Communion music went very well from the congregation's point of view.

If you watch to the end of the service, you'll see the oddest thing:  I think it's bad enough when people start talking and walking out before the postlude is finished, but in this case, they started tearing everything down in the middle of the final hymn, and were nearly done by the time the postlude even started.  Apparently we were working under a very tight time constraint from the Baptists, who needed the church back for their own event.

Any number of minor glitches aside, it was a glorious service and a wonderful experience.  In many ways it was like a wedding:  Those with positions of responsibility know all too well how many things went wrong, but to most people it is simply a beautiful event.

I'm really glad we didn't miss this one.

I'm as concerned about privacy as the next person (and a lot more than many), but sometimes I think our government goes too far, such as when it waits till 72 years post facto to release federal census data.  But tomorrow, at last, is the day I've been waiting for since I began genealogy work ten years ago:  the release of the 1940 census.

When that happens, Ancestry.com and other organizations will go into high gear to get the images available, online, and indexed. Ancestry is a subscription service, but is making the 1940 census available for free during 2012.  Until the searchable index is available, it will be necessary to go through the more laborious process of manually searching the records by Enumeration District.  I plan to do that for a few of my relatives and other research interests, because I can't wait, but will put off the majority of my 1940 research until the index is available.  Patience will be rewarded with a large time savings.  :)

Below are some helpful 1940 sites.

Ancestry's 1940 page (or click on the Ancestry Ace image in the side panel to the right)

Tools to help find an Enumeration District

Ancestry.com's Enumeration Distrcit maps

Census Bureau site

1940Census.net

UPDATE:  I'm also putting the National Archives 1940census.archives.gov link here, because they have all the images available, and Ancestry.com is still in the (slow) process of uploading them. I'm not sure how much good this will do, however.  While I can get to the NARA site, I still haven't gotten my first image to appear.  As NARA said on their Facebook page,

After waiting for 10 years for the release of the 1940 census, we know that you are frustrated with the difficulties we're experiencing on our 1940census.archives.gov site. We completely share these frustrations! Since 9 a.m. EDT (when the site went live), we've had about 22.5 million hits to the site, which works out to about 1.9 million users. Although we developed detailed plans and our testing indicated that NARA and Inflection would be able to handle the expected load,the number of visitors was huge. Thank you for your patience despite these frustrations. We're working to resolve the problem and we'll keep you updated on the situation.

And here's the FamilySearch 1940 Census link; they are also uploading the images and have a different set available so far from Ancestry's.

Woo-hoo!  My copy of Dots: Zero to One Hundred arrived today!

Given that the events occurred not far from home, yet have become international news, I'll say a few words about the Trayvon Martin case.  Not many (by my standards), because, frankly, no one knows enough to say anything definitive, though that's not stopping everyone and his sisters and his cousins and his aunts from speaking out.

I won't say, "it's not about race," because it may very well have been—who knows what was going on in the mind of George Zimmerman.  Or Trayvon Martin, for that matter.  But from where I sit, it's about a lot more than race.  "Walking while black" was only one of three strikes against him, though it may have been the fatal one.  He was also walking while male, and walking while young.

I've written before of the frightening, and abusive, encounter that a young friend had with the police, a young man whose only "crime" was biking while young, and male, and (legitimately) in his own neighborhood at a time when the deputy thought he should have been sitting in a school classroom.  Certainly it was wrong of Zimmerman to consider Martin to be suspicious based on race, if those were indeed his thoughts, but it is equally wrong to suspect someone of ill intent based on sex or age, and I believe that happens frequently, insidiously, under the public radar, and without going viral on social media.

In Travon Martin's case—as in O.J. Simpson's, and Casey Anthony's—it's the public uproar that has me the most concerned, however.  We the People believe we know better than those who have seen the evidence and heard the arguments, and want "justice" done without any respect for or patience with the due process guaranteed every one of us.  Yes, the system sometimes fails, sometimes makes mistakes; I've seen it fail our own family.  But vigilante "justice" is a terrifying prospect.  Remember A Man for All Seasons?

What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil? ... And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned round on you—where would you hide ... the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws from coast to coast ... and if you cut them down—and you're just the man to do it—do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety's sake!

Without implying comment one way or another on the Second Amendment issue, I'll end with a quotation from Robert Heinlein's science fiction book, Tunnel in the Sky, in which a seasoned military officer expounds on the dangers of guns in the hands of the untrained:

One time in a hundred a gun might save your life; the other ninety-nine it will just tempt you into folly. ... I know how good a gun feels.  It makes you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, three meters tall and covered with hair.  You're ready for anything and kind of hoping you'll find it.  Which is exactly what is dangerous about it.

Such folly took away Trayvon Martin's life, and destroyed George Zimmerman's.  There's a reason police officers receive intensive training—and even so they occasionally make fatal mistakes when threatened.  That our young friend was merely abused, rather than shot, may have had less to do with his not being black than with being accosted by a real sheriff's deputy rather than a wannabe.