The seasons change they come and go
With wind and sun and rain and snow
The years progress both good and bad
With laughs and tears both glad and sad !
Thus life moves on each day aplomb
With no one there to add the sum
Or seek to find the final cost
About our lives and what we’ve lost !
This world that is at war with God
Is the result of spare the rod
For every word that has been writ
Accomplishment for each will fit !
July the first in history
The year was eighteen-sixty-three
A troubled time, a day of rage
Some farmer’s field that was the stage.
Those men that died that sad sad day
Had such an awful price to pay
While those who lived to fight again
Could have no thought when it would end !
How ideals change we cannot know
For what’s inside we dare not show
But God alone will make that choice
He is our judge, our heart, our voice !
In toyland there are toys galore
They fill the shelves and crowd the floor
A sight to garner great surprise
It is a childhood paradise !
How marvelous the world would be
If all the children could be free
To run and play and laugh and smile
Enjoying freedom all the while.
Perhaps one day our God above
Will shelter them with all His love
And teach them how to live in peace
As war and hate and pain will cease !
These prayers are for those sad of heart
With grief for they who sudden part
Each hero’s death too high a cost
Who guides their way among our lost ?
While heroes live in memory
Such memories are never free
Their price is great who knows how much
What tears we shed or hearts we touch ?
When will this sacrifice be done
How long before the battle’s won
Ask God, please help our treasures save
How many more must greet the grave ?
When will these endless wars be done
So man may freely greet the sun
And close his eyes in peace each night
Assured he’ll wake to morning light ?
The simple truth is we can’t wait
The time grows short the hour late
And anger that bursts into flame
Claiming to be in God’s own name
Is truly Satan’s fight to live
Beyond the scope God will forgive !
The time is near, it soon will die
What can we do to speed goodbye ?
We do not know, we cannot see
What is the cost of victory,
The war we waged was so much more
What would it take to life restore ?
The years have gone, what used to be
Has changed the path of destiny
There is no way left to explain
The loss of life, the futile pain !
Be sure that wars are endless grief
From which there seems no real relief
We thought it might soon fade away
Not now or next ten thousand days !
The battle raged, the bullets fell
One thought it was the bowels of hell
When it was done the silence came
And those who could, called out God’s name.
But if He heard, they never knew
Of many there were but a few
Who straggled out that fateful day
And met their death along the way.
This nation which faced great defeat
Lost skirmishes that would repeat,
But in the end she did avail
Avowing that we’d never fail !
We can’t forget the children small
Whose portraits hang upon a wall
Of some far place we cannot see
Where angels guard their memory.
These little ones have paid the price
For madness and insane device
Of men who have no mind to care
About young lives and whom they spare.
Pray God soon acts to right the wrong
And beg it will not take so long.
My heart cries out it’s full of pain
To think that we’re at war again
We search for calm it isn’t there
The world still writhes in deep despair
When will it cease the unknown crime
This war on peace destroys our clime,
Oh why is man so incomplete
Unable to accept defeat ?
We’ve lost all sense in this foray
Will we survive another day
The question rises to the fore
From day to day who keeps the score,
The boy who grows to be a man
To love his God and have a plan
Or one who scatters discontent
No matter what the message sent ?
Who is to judge the final test
And weigh the cost of such unrest ?
I hear the cries of desperate men
Who do long to breathe freedom again
The sound arrives on the stillest air
I feel their pain and their dark despair.
On the lonely nights that winter brings
How can they bear all their sufferings ?
In a foreign land and so alone
May God bless those who are far from home !
The winds of war blow harsh and shrill
To pierce the heart with their bone chill
Battles fought without thought or care
While wars are waged by those who’d dare.
Fear that’s wrought upon the living
Small time spent in kindness giving
To save the world and aid the meek
The peace of God has none to speak.
There to some end that one can’t name
They kill the young, the old, the game
Both sides lay dying in the street
Finality which tastes defeat,
The sense of it one cannot see
Oh war, where is thy victory ?
“We have met the enemy and he is ours”, Perry. What more can we add ? The history of this nation leaves one both amazed and aghast, a dichotomy of kindness and cruelty, of simplicity and barbarism. Who are we? The new Jerusalem or Hades personified or perhaps a bit of both ? Who IS the enemy ? “Not I” said the duck, “not I”, said the goose, oh well, someone is ! It was much less complicated when I was a girl ( early 40’s ) in the era of black and white films, the hero always wore the white hat, e.i. Gene Autry, and the villain wore black, with the exception of Hopalong Cassidy ! You see ? During World War Two the bad guy always had an accent and sported a glass monocle, today that would be called “profiling”. Who knew ? On a rainy Saturday you’d get a dime, a sandwich wrapped in wax paper and after chores, you’d go to the local cinema to spend the day, instead of the mall which had not yet been “imagined” or necessary ! The venue began with coming attractions, a comedy short, movietone news, serial episode, sports special, B film, cartoon and main attraction. Wow ! No Bingo on Saturday. However a 2 cent luxury tax was added later in the war. No one turned on the lights to empty the theatre between the showings, you simply took turns in the restrooms and returned to your seats on which you had left your sweater or jacket. How’s that grab you ? Care to try that today ? Don’t get me started on Dish Night, you”ll have to ask your grandma about that !
Sincerely, Claire B.
The madness of war in which great battles were waged
Where brave men fought and died as their armies engaged
And those heroes who lived to the end of the day
Will fairly attest we need an alternate way.
But wars aren’t parried between equals as we
It’s usually twixt the enslaved and the free
Their combat continues while insanity reigns
Perhaps with our prayers we can salvage remains.
I awoke this AM from a dream of a long ago memory ! It was spring 1936, I was a little girl in a pretty ruffled dress at the wedding of my mothers only sister to a man who always smiled ! Tho’ they were both a bit old for the occasion ! Now I believe there must be a reason for the dream, never dreamt of them before ! My Aunt Olga must not be confused with “old” Aunt Olga, this was my godmother, born in a flat on Willow in Hoboken, March 25, 1910, Good Friday. My Pop called her his “hot cross bun”. As a girl she played piano and soloed as a choir soprano in several local churches. Exceedingly ambitious, graduated from Katherine Gibbs, she became a bilingual court stenographer and translator in N.Y. court system. She met her future husband, college graduate and rising “management” at Hanover Bank downtown. Of course their “paradise” ended with Pearl Harbor, as Selective Service rapidly drafted 1 A’s, single, married, no children, college degree, those on the edge of age 38, before they avoided draft eligibility. My uncle was fluent in English, German and French, he became part of the cadre of those administering justice and prosecution of war crimes, an experience from which he never truly recovered ! My aunt became the companion and driver of Anne Morrow Lindbergh when she lived in New Jersey years ago and loved her job. They worked hard, were kind and loving, sharing a long life together, entering the Bergen Pines Veteran’s Home where they both died in late 90’s. Rare indeed, yes? The greatest generation !!
Sincerely, Claire B.
I’m so tired of war and rumors of war
That I find myself severely obsessed
With the thoughtless acts of a heartless core
Who strut about with much power possessed.
Can’t we return to the lost days of yore
When men had the courage to fight distress
And agree upon an alternate door
As the waste of war did wisemen impress !
Lucky Green has gone to war! And so has Hoboken, madly, wildly with shipyards and canned food factories in full swing, 24 hour shifts! Tootsie Roll factory, Maxwell House, Lipton Tea, Continental Can, Hostess Bread & Cake, Van Houton Chocolate and on and on! Lucky Strike used a dark green dye in its packaging, thus the slogan, with P. Lorillard across Observer Highway! K Rations & C Rations were made and packaged here in the frenetic hustle of World War Two. Keuffel & Esser churning out essential steel instruments, Ferguson Propellers, Fagan Ironworks, Tietjen & Lang, Fredericks along with Todd Shipyards and Bethlehem Steel all blackening our skies with the industry of war. Cigarettes were sold by the ones, called Loosies, did you know that? The trolley cars bustled along the tracks day and night! At last, there was no unemployment! Hospitals recruited high school students to pick up the slack as orderlies, nurses aides, school hours shifted to 7:30 AM, ending 2:30 PM to accomodate the desperate need for help at $20. per 5 day week of 4 hour shifts with hot meal including meat. Many stayed in the field after peacetime! We were changing and learning to survive in this brave new world. And we did! P.S. I chose to work at Christ Hospital, good food, no food stamps were required! Sincerely, Claire B.
When I was 9 my father graduated from Wm. L. Dickinson High Night School as valedictorian and I was there with my mother. Later that year he was diagnosed with left frontal lobe brain tumor, he was 28. We had survived the Depression, the 3 of us, and life was beginning to look up. My mom was pregnant, my dad had surgery and the winds of war were threatening in Europe. Our nation began to mobilize, we had a baby girl and my dad developed epilepsy. Life changes in an instant! Then came the war and all its ramifications. My dad became an air raid warden, I became his “sidekick” and “Gal Friday” until he died some nine years later. I’ve said before I was His only “son” and proud of it, he taught me all the practicalities of life in the 40’s, including plumbing ! All these years later I remember the sound of his voice and the blue brilliance of his eyes. Some things are just unforgettable ! His mantra was “the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth”, he’d be proud that I carried it “forward” with my own boys. Yup,no girls! And in biblical tradition within a short period of time my mother married his youngest brother to the pleasure of all. There were anti-aircraft batteries all along the New Jersey side of the Hudson River from Bayonne north to Fort Lee with barracks included, it was World War Two. I remember my dad nightly in his white CD helmet, his armband, whistle and big black torch lamp as he made his rounds. You could hear his “Lights out” for blocks ! It was a much less complicated world replete with bright posters, “Don’t talk chum, chew Topp’s Gum” or “A slip of the lip can sink a ship” but the best by far, “Uncle Sam needs you” ! We won the war but lost our innocence ! Sincerely. Claire B.
The emergency alarm bells rang out blaring the call to faculty and student body summoning all to the high school auditorium before noon on a warm spring day, April 12, 1945. This event was being repeated throughout our nation ! We pledged allegiance to the flag, sang the “Star Spangled Banner”, then bowed our heads for the morning prayer and took our seats. There were more than 1000 in attendance. A hush fell over the audience as Dr. John Connelly, a former Jesuit and our principal began to speak. He told us of our nation’s battle and the war effort, advising us to remain calm and to return to our homes to advise our families that our president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt had died that morning. The sound barely audible, gasps, sobs, disbelief, whispers, the words, “You are dismissed” and the shuffling sound of thousands of feet exiting that huge arena. Not a word was spoken. We were a nation in shock engaged in a war of atrocities and horrors with a new and inexperienced leader we had little or no knowledge of to date! We were a nation in mourning! The following week was so quiet, a week of fear! So here we are today almost 70 years later remembering that all we had was radio and several newspapers to tell the biggest story of the moment, the tragedy of the day the music died! Does anyone remember ? I do.
I was born in between World Wars One and Two
Which lent me a special perspective and view
Learning to live with the wide scarring war brings
Soon you begin helping to heal all the stings
To take nothing for granted and do your part
Becomes an incentive with peace in your heart
It remains forever despite where you trod
You must not forget to be grateful to God.
What do you know about the classic epic poem “Evangeline”? Basic details, but not the “heartless” truths behind its creation by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow of “Hiawatha” fame? “Evangeline” is not a simple romantic tale of love gone awry, but the saga of an ethnic cleansing tragedy that actually occured 1745-1755 on our continent and impacted our nation in ways untold ! Remember the original colonizers “due north” of us were French fur traders, explorers, settlers with Samuel de Champlain at the helm in 1603. “Hello”, Lake Champlain? Let’s tax your knowledge of history once again, think French and Indian War, where that boy ‘who cut down the cherry tree” earned his stripes and became a HERO! Moving on, the French had settled Nova Scotia, called Acadia,New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island ( the Maritimes ) and Quebec 150 years prior to the Brits appearing on that scene ! The year 1755, the French lost, the Acadians were neutral , not good enough ! Next “The Great Expulsion” relocating the Acadians after separating men from women and children . Load the men onto English man’o’wars and dump them in the swamps of French Louisiana prior to the Revolutionary War and the “Purchase” by Jefferson. Transport the rest to ports along the lower Atlantic coast from Maine to Vineyard’s Harbor ( Cape Cod ) to prevent increasing numbers above the possibly remaining 20,000. However, without the Acadians who “morphed” into Cajuns, we could have lost the Battle of New Orleans, January 8, 1815 in the War of 1812 along with Andrew Jackson’s eventual presidential win. I failed to cite “Mardi Gras” et al, their gift to us!
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Claire V. Bogdanos 