Old World and a Port to New Worlds

Unit One: Cover Letter and Executive Summary
  To the Leadership of the Advanced Space Life Research Institute,

My name is Frank W. Summers III. I submit this introductory proposal, cover letter, and executive summary in the hope that some portion of the ideas collected here may be of interest to your organization and to the wider effort to understand the future of human life beyond Earth. My background is eclectic rather than narrowly technical. I have spent decades studying history, migration, culture, education, media, religion, family structures, and the ways human beings create continuity under difficult or changing conditions. Alongside that work has been a longstanding fascination with space exploration and the future expansion of human civilization into new habitats.  

I will on  occasion throughout this text connect to my own experience with space. The most significant part was running an international unincorporated group called the Crater Cap Colony Concept Group a few decades ago. But perhaps the most poignant connection was watching the death of astronaut and teacher Sharon Christa McAuliffe nee Corrigan and her companions on the Challenger space shuttle in 1986. I was the interim campus minister at Louisiana State University’s two year campus in Eunice, Louisiana. I was watching with a few engineering students at the Catholic center on our television. McAuliffe was a Catholic who had taught catechism, but she was loose on Catholic doctrine even as she understood it. She was proud that she taught her kids that God was not “up there”. To be clear I do believe that God is up there, in here and all around. I am a practicing if critical and nuanced Catholic and I take the scientific community and method to task on occasion these pages and in other places. I believe that space settlement is human destiny. But I do not believe in a destiny we cannot screw up. This proposal is part of my effort as a citizen and human benign to help us not screw it up.      

I should emphasize from the outset that this document is intentionally rough in character. It is a large “back of the envelope” proposal rather than a polished institutional white paper. I do not presently possess the editorial resources, scientific staff, graphic support, or funding structure that would allow me to refine these ideas to the degree I would ultimately prefer. There are repetitions, unfinished sections, speculative areas, and subjects which deserve more rigorous sourcing than I can presently provide. Nevertheless, I believe there is value in presenting ambitious preliminary frameworks before they are fully mature, especially in fields where human survival and expansion may depend on early conceptual work. The history of exploration repeatedly demonstrates that rough conceptual maps often precede the creation of formal institutions.

My interest in these questions does not emerge merely from enthusiasm for rockets, astronomy, or science fiction. Rather, I approach space settlement through the long historical study of human continuity. I have spent much of my intellectual life examining peoples under stress: migrations, frontier societies, colonization, ethnic persistence, family adaptation, labor systems, religion, education, and the survival of identity across generations. My historical work concerning Acadian and Cajun communities, documentary media, and regional culture helped shape my conviction that habitat and continuity are inseparable subjects.  

A space colony is not merely an engineering project. It is the attempted transplantation of civilization itself. Human beings do not survive as isolated technicians suspended in metal cylinders. They survive through kinship, courtship, reproduction, ritual, education, memory, affection, sacrifice, law, economic exchange, storytelling, and intergenerational obligation. The technologies that allow a habitat to function are only one part of the equation. The human systems that allow a population to persist for centuries are equally important and in many ways less understood.

For this reason, I believe organizations such as the ASRI are positioned to undertake profoundly important interdisciplinary work. Research, scientific experimentation, training, investment, and education must all converge if humanity is to seriously prepare for long-term life beyond Earth. We require physiological studies concerning radiation, gravity, fertility, embryology, pregnancy, childhood development, aging, and mental health. We require sociological and anthropological work concerning marriage, loneliness, governance, labor distribution, migration incentives, and conflict resolution. We require economic and investment models capable of sustaining decades-long development cycles. We require educational systems designed for isolated habitats where children may never see Earth directly. We require ethical frameworks capable of addressing reproductive technologies, genetic preservation, assisted reproduction, and the obligations owed to vulnerable populations in closed environments.

In my own work and reflections, I have repeatedly returned to the question of whether humanity is psychologically and socially prepared for expansion into space. The answer may presently be “not yet,” but preparation itself is a process. One cannot wait for perfection before beginning inquiry. Indeed, many of the great maritime expansions of history occurred before complete knowledge existed. Human beings crossed oceans, deserts, mountain ranges, and polar regions carrying partial maps and incomplete sciences. What mattered was the willingness to begin constructing systems of continuity.

My own background reflects this interdisciplinary tendency. I have worked in education, journalism, historical research, curriculum development, media, missions, fundraising, sales, and cultural studies.   I have studied questions ranging from theology and anthropology to film history and pedagogy.   I have written on regional identity, documentary traditions, and historical continuity. I have also maintained a persistent interest in how technological change transforms human relationships and institutions. None of this makes me a specialist in aerospace engineering or advanced biology. However, it does make me someone deeply interested in the total ecology of human civilization and the conditions under which societies endure.

The attached and associated materials should therefore be understood not as final conclusions but as exploratory frameworks. Some of the systems, processes and devices outlined here are patent pending under my name. These processes and many of the citations and all of the bibliography are in a fairly messy and fuzzy state for that sort of thing. I don’t have alot of money and success to bring to the table, not really upwardly mobile either.   Some sections discuss reproductive continuity and assisted reproductive technologies. Others examine migration incentives, settlement culture, tourism, education, labor systems, or social adaptation in extraterrestrial settings. Some ideas may ultimately prove impractical. Others may contain seeds worth developing under more rigorous scientific supervision. I submit them not with arrogance but with curiosity and hope.

There is also much not included here. Over many years I have accumulated additional notes, conceptual outlines, bibliographies, sketches of educational and research programs, speculative habitat concepts, and reflections on human adaptation under frontier conditions. Some of those materials remain fragmentary or disorganized. Others require substantial revision before they could responsibly be circulated. But this proposal represents part of a broader effort to examine what may truly be involved in preserving and extending human life into space.

I therefore respectfully submit this introductory work to the Advanced Space Life Research Institute in the hope that portions of it may prove stimulating, useful, or worthy of further conversation. Even where the ideas are incomplete, I hope they demonstrate seriousness about the magnitude of the challenge before us. Human expansion into space will not simply require better machines. It will require a deeper understanding of human beings themselves.

Respectfully,

Frank W. Summers III

Unit Two: Addressing Sex, Sexuality And Reproduction in the Space Revolution

Why my Voice? Why this proposal?  

There is a film titled Orphans of Apollo. The film stars Rick Tumlinson whose recent book Why Space: The Purpose of People is discussed later in this paper and whose role in fighting for a private space economy is perhaps even more important than I am able to give him credit for here.  But I choose to bring up the film not because I have anything to do with the effort to privatize the failing Russian Mir space station. I choose to reference it early on because I am one of those who remembered how intensely I felt about Apollo as a child. I remember as a fan reading science fiction throughout my life seeing all of it through the lens of a young American watching  his fellow citizens  walk on the Moon and believing that the future in Space was bright and promising. 

It did not turn out to be the narrative of my dreams. But this paper is about creating the space future that I always hoped for when I watched the Apollo missions. Whether or not my views deserve the time it takes to read the paper is something I want to address here. 

But it’s not an easy case to make that the experts and industrialists involved with exploration and development in space should pay heed to me. I am not a billionaire, an astronaut, an engineer or even a licensed pilot. I have been around for a while but have not developed any thing like a pyramid of support or an indisputable expertise. I would not be writing this paper if I did not think it had some value. I cannot really share all the sources of my insight. But I at least can outline my own connection to space. 

In second grade in Manhattan one of my original creations that was a well received school  art assignment was named Fire in Space. I remember the Apollo models in most of my early classrooms and I believed it when they told me in some kid’s media that my generation would have lots of people living and working in space.        

Space is Happening Now or Maybe Never

I have chosen to submit this paper to your institute because I think the general project you outline is URGENT, IMPORTANT, NECESSARY and PRECARIOUS. In other words even harder to accept: Read this paper and lots of other good stuff, do your job extremely well or humanity is condemned to a dire and horrifying future. How is that for an intro?

Given that I think your project is important, I have opinions about it.  I hope this paper will contribute some value.    I think that there is an efficiency in things, If we do as is advised in the recently feted book A City on Mars and wait to go big on space colonization we will very likely fail to get to space colonization and are in fact likely to pay a very heavy price for not seizing the chance we have now. Nonetheless, the Weinersmiths are right that we have a vast amount of work to do to become a viable spacefaring and multiplanetary civilization. It is to contribute to that effort that I am submitting this paper to the Advanced Spacelife Research Institute.  It is a long paper to receive unsolicited. But I hope that you will patiently read through it and see how all the parts fit together. I assure you now that they do fit together and every aspect of this study has a role to play in addressing human sex, sexuality and reproduction in the space revolution and beyond.

In order to have a real impact on the future of Human permanent settlement in space we will need many things. But one thing we shall need that is not so easy to achieve is a group of people in each area of groundbreaking work who have both good ideas and the confidence to set forth plans, foundations and practices that those who will be very busy surviving in space can use. Plans that will work. That is arguably harder to do in the area of sex and reproduction than in the area of rocketry.     

The truth is that we are stuck with the world we live in and very few of us feel that we can individually do very much that will determine the broad parameters and general shape of the world we live in and the trajectory of the society in which we reside and participate.  I am arrogant and optimistic enough to devote some time, energy and money to the  project of shaping a society in which others may reside after I have passed on. However, while I am not a recluse or extreme counter culturalist I just accept that my preferences are not very important. 

So that means that, yes:

1. I support local arts and culture, 

2. I vote, pay taxes, sing in a church choir, 

3. am married (not for the first time),

4. have been (and officially still am) a keyholder for a local museum, 

5.  have filled out the Nielsen reports more than once 

6. and have contributed to varied causes for a long time.

BUT I DON’T EXPECT THE CULTURE TO BE VERY MUCH AS I WOULD WISH IT TO BE. 

What’s true of culture in the narrow sense is true of politics too:

1.I have known, met with and corresponded with many officials of varied kinds around the world.

2. I have had real relationships with officials in my own region.

3. While not a politician myself,   in civic terms I serve as Commissioner in Charge for an Electoral District in my home state of Louisiana in the United States

4. I have been involved in some campaigns in a small way, gotten some voters registered 

5.  provided rides for a few voters to get to the polls over a period of many years.  

6. and had some in government say nice things about my ideas.

BUT I DON’T EXPECT TO GREATLY IMPACT THE POLITICAL SYSTEM IN WHICH I LIVE. 

Part of what it means to build a foundation now, while we can, is to recognize that there are people (including Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Jared Isaacman and Xi Jinping) who are both used to having things go their way and are committed to opening up space in one way or another.  We need to try to understand this opportunity in all its complexity. 

Exodus

Elon Musk argues that we must put a million people on Mars if we are to ensure that humanity has a future

by Ross Andersen + BIO

6,800 words12 commentsSave

‘Fuck Earth!’ Elon Musk said to me, laughing. ‘Who cares about Earth?’ We were sitting in his cubicle, in the front corner of a large open-plan office at SpaceX headquarters in Los Angeles. It was a sunny afternoon, a Thursday, one of three designated weekdays Musk spends at SpaceX. Musk was laughing because he was joking: he cares a great deal about Earth. When he is not here at SpaceX, he is running an electric car company. But this is his manner. On television Musk can seem solemn, but in person he tells jokes. He giggles. He says things that surprise you.

When I arrived, Musk was at his computer, powering through a stream of single-line email replies. I took a seat and glanced around at his workspace. There was a black leather couch and a large desk, empty but for a few wine bottles and awards. The windows looked out to a sunbaked parking lot. The vibe was ordinary, utilitarian, even boring. After a few minutes passed, I began to worry that Musk had forgotten about me, but then suddenly, and somewhat theatrically, he wheeled around, scooted his chair over, and extended his hand. ‘I’m Elon,’ he said.

It was a nice gesture, but in the year 2014 Elon Musk doesn’t need much of an introduction. Not since Steve Jobs has an American technologist captured the cultural imagination like Musk. There are tumblrs and subreddits devoted to him. He is the inspiration for Robert Downey Jr’s Iron Man. His life story has already become a legend. There is the alienated childhood in South Africa, the video game he invented at 12, his migration to the US in the mid-1990s. Then the quick rise, beginning when Musk sold his software company Zip2 for $300 million at the age of 28, and continuing three years later, when he dealt PayPal to eBay for $1.5 billion. And finally, the double down, when Musk decided idle hedonism wasn’t for him, and instead sank his fortune into a pair of unusually ambitious startups. With Tesla he would replace the world’s cars with electric vehicles, and with SpaceX he would colonise Mars. Automobile manufacturing and aerospace are mature industries, dominated by corporate behemoths with plush lobbying budgets and factories in all the right congressional districts. No matter. Musk would transform both, simultaneously, and he would do it within the space of a single generation. (note the whole article is worth comprehending and is short) (https://aeon.co/essays/elon-musk-puts-his-case-for-a-multi-planet-civilisation)

Holy Day Salutation

Acadians and the American Revolution: A Crucial but Overlooked Influence on the Struggle for Independence

Introduction: Reframing the American Revolution Through Acadian Experience

The American Revolution is often narrated as a revolt of the Thirteen Colonies along the eastern seaboard. Yet recent scholarship insists that the Revolution was a hemispheric struggle, shaped by shifting alliances, imperial contests, global commerce, and the movements of peoples far beyond New England and Virginia. Among those peoples were the Acadians—descendants of seventeenth-century French settlers of maritime Canada—whose forced dispersal beginning in 1755 positioned them across North America and the Caribbean in ways that profoundly shaped the revolutionary era. Their experiences under British rule, their strategic resettlement in French and Spanish territories, their militia service, their cultural networks, and their role in trans-imperial diplomacy made Acadians vital—though often invisible—participants in the American quest for independence.

This essay argues that Acadians played a crucial role in shaping the American Revolution by weakening British imperial cohesion, strengthening Franco-Spanish military capacity, and enabling decisive campaigns in the Gulf South that directly facilitated American victory. Drawing upon the works of John Mack Faragher, Dudley LeBlanc, Michael Leech, Kathleen DuVal, John Garrigus, Warren Perrin, Carl Brasseaux, and the collective scholarship in Acadie Then and Now, this study situates Acadian contributions within a larger Atlantic framework and shows that the Revolution cannot be fully understood without accounting for their influence.


I. The Grand Dérangement as a Catalyst of Anti-British Consciousness

A. British Imperial Overreach and the Seeds of Revolutionary Rebellion

In A Great and Noble Scheme, Faragher offers the definitive scholarly account of the 1755 expulsion of the Acadians—known as Le Grand Dérangement. He reveals the deportation as an act of extreme imperial coercion, motivated by British desires to neutralize a francophone Catholic population considered politically unreliable. Faragher demonstrates that the Acadian expulsion was not merely a tragic episode of colonial history; it was a precursor to the very logic of imperial overreach that the American colonists would later resist. The forced removal of thousands of Acadians foreshadowed British heavy-handedness in the 1760s and 1770s and exposed the tensions inherent in managing diverse populations within a centralized empire.

This brutality cultivated among surviving Acadians a profound memory of injustice and a collective orientation against British authority—one that would shape their choices during the American Revolution. In this sense, the diaspora itself became a form of anti-imperial resistance.

B. The Formation of a Transnational Acadian Network

Carl Brasseaux’s Founding of New Acadia chronicles how many Acadians eventually resettled in Louisiana—then a sparsely populated outpost of the French and later the Spanish empire. This relocation was not random. Acadians possessed agricultural expertise, strong communal bonds, and a willingness to occupy frontier lands that imperial authorities considered valuable. By the early 1770s, Acadian villages were well established along the Mississippi River and the bayous of south Louisiana, forming a strategic demographic presence on the imperial borderlands.

Their new settlements placed Acadians at the very center of geopolitical tensions during the Revolution. Their population became a resource that could—and did—shift the balance of power in the Gulf South.

C. Identity, Memory, and the Will to Resist

Dudley LeBlanc’s two works, The True Story of the Acadians and The Acadian Miracle, although more hagiographic than analytical, illuminate the emotional and cultural dimension through which Acadians interpreted their history. LeBlanc depicts the Acadian experience as a saga of resilience, faith, and cultural fidelity in the face of overwhelming oppression. This sense of collective survival fostered an identity predisposed toward anti-British sentiment and sympathetic to other struggles against imperial domination—setting the stage for the significant Acadian role in the Revolution.


II. Pre-Revolutionary Louisiana: Conflict, Power, and Opportunity

A. The Louisiana Frontier and the Roots of Acadian Political Agency

Michael Leech’s Roots of Conflict explores the political and social complexity of pre-Revolutionary Louisiana, revealing a region in which multiple groups—French Creoles, Acadians, Native nations, free people of color, Spanish officials—negotiated power and identity. Acadians proved especially adept at navigating this environment. Their prior experience with displacement enabled them to cultivate autonomy, self-governance, and militia skills valued by both French and Spanish authorities.

These patterns of frontier adaptability helped shape a population ready to contribute meaningfully to wartime efforts.

B. Strategic Settlement Under Spanish Rule

When Spain acquired Louisiana in 1763, it inherited thousands of Acadians. Their presence strengthened Spanish claims in the Gulf South at a crucial time. Spanish governors recognized the Acadians’ military potential and integrated them into local militias, granting them land and permitting relative cultural independence. As Leech and Brasseaux note, Acadians became “middle peoples”—cultural brokers who connected French traditions, Spanish administrative power, and Indigenous presence.

This position made Acadians key to Spanish wartime strategy when conflict with Britain erupted during the American Revolution.


III. Acadians in the American Revolution: A Strategic Population

A. The Gulf Coast as a Decisive Theater of War

Kathleen DuVal’s Independence Lost reframes the Revolution as a multinational conflict that extended far beyond the Thirteen Colonies. She highlights the significance of the Gulf South, where Spain—an American ally—engaged Britain directly. Acadians, living under Spanish rule, became instrumental to Spain’s military success in the region.

B. Acadian Participation in Gálvez’s Campaigns

When Spanish Governor Bernardo de Gálvez launched a lightning campaign against British West Florida in 1779, Acadians formed a significant component of his forces. Their roles included:

  • Militia infantry in the battles of Manchac, Baton Rouge, Mobile, and Pensacola
  • Guides and scouts with unparalleled knowledge of marshlands and bayous
  • Boatmen and logistical operators essential to transporting supplies
  • Local intelligence gatherers among frontier communities

Gálvez’s victories—made possible in part by Acadian manpower and expertise—eliminated British control on the Gulf Coast. This deprived Britain of crucial access to the Mississippi River, prevented coordination with Southeastern Loyalists, and undermined the broader southern strategy.

Without these victories, DuVal argues, American independence would have been far more difficult. Spain’s triumphs in the Gulf forced Britain to divert resources and weakened British influence across the South.

C. Acadians as Political Actors in Wartime Louisiana

Acadian village leaders played decisive roles in ensuring continued cooperation with Spanish authorities. Their willingness to serve in campaigns—motivated by loyalty to France, gratitude to Spain, and hostility to Britain—helped maintain stability in Louisiana, allowing Gálvez to operate without fear of internal rebellion.

These actions were not passive; they were deliberate choices rooted in communal memory of British oppression and in hopes of securing their own future autonomy.


IV. Acadians in the Wider Atlantic Revolution

A. The Acadian Diaspora Beyond Louisiana

The collected scholarship in Acadie Then and Now reveals that the Acadian diaspora extended across the Americas, from Québec to France to the Caribbean. In each region, Acadians influenced the Revolutionary struggle indirectly:

  • In France, Acadian refugees contributed to naval and maritime operations that challenged British control of the Atlantic.
  • In Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, Acadian settlements complicated British efforts to maintain total regional control.
  • In the Caribbean, Acadian exiles sometimes aligned with French or Spanish forces in actions that hindered British logistics.

This global diaspora created pressure points across the empire—undermining Britain’s capacity to suppress the rebellion fully.

B. Acadians, Free People of Color, and the Francophone Atlantic

John Garrigus’s I Alone highlights the role of free people of color within the broader French Atlantic, particularly the complex social fabric of communities shaped by French colonialism. Acadians lived alongside such communities in Louisiana and elsewhere, forming a trans-racial Francophone sphere often aligned against British interests. These alliances broadened the anti-British coalition from Massachusetts to Martinique and from the Acadian parishes of Louisiana to the streets of New Orleans.


V. Legacy, Memory, and the Post-Revolutionary Influence of the Acadians

A. The Aftermath: Cultural and Political Contributions to the Early United States

Warren Perrin’s Acadian Redemption traces the long legal and cultural journey toward recognition of Acadian suffering and resilience. He argues that Acadian memory became part of the broader American narrative of liberty and resistance to tyranny. Their integration into the American South contributed to the region’s distinct cultural identity, shaping its legal traditions, its cultural tapestry, and its sense of historical purpose.

B. The Acadian Narrative as an American Narrative

Works by LeBlanc and the contributors to Acadie Then and Now show how Acadian culture—rooted in survival and communal identity—helped shape Louisiana’s distinct blend of American, French, and Spanish influences. By maintaining their heritage, Acadians provided a crucial foundation for the multicultural identity of early America, especially in the Gulf South.

C. The Long Memory of the Revolution

Acadian participation in the Revolution was remembered in community traditions, parish histories, and military rolls. This memory became part of the collective identity of the Cajuns in Louisiana, contributing to their pride in the region’s foundational role in the nation’s fight for independence.


Conclusion: Re-centering Acadians in Revolutionary History

The American Revolution was not solely the achievement of colonial patriots from Boston, Philadelphia, and Williamsburg. It was a hemispheric struggle whose outcome hinged upon the actions of peoples across North America and the Caribbean. Among these were the Acadians—deported, dispersed, and resettled, yet unbroken in their cultural identity.

Acadians shaped the Revolution by:

  • Weakening British imperial cohesion through their earlier resistance and forced removal.
  • Strengthening Spanish Louisiana’s military capacity at precisely the moment the American cause needed allies.
  • Serving as essential fighters, guides, and logistical supporters in Gálvez’s Gulf Coast campaigns.
  • Influencing French and Spanish decisions to challenge British supremacy, thereby aiding the nascent United States.
  • Preserving a cultural continuity that enriched the post-Revolutionary American Republic.

Their role was not marginal but pivotal. Without the defeat of Britain in West Florida—made possible in part by Acadian participation—Britain might have maintained strategic dominance in the South. The American Revolution might have unfolded differently or even faltered.

The Greatest Challenges of My Wrapping Up Period in Life and a Continuation of my Memoir

I am putting this post together to post on Wednesday. January 23, 2025. There is snow in our yard and it is cold. I am missing my main work for money all week so far because my current work involves driving a great deal. I will not get paid days off because of weather closure because I am a self-employed contract worker. But I am still in pretty good spirits and grateful we are getting through this winter storm as well as we can.

I am feeling blessed to have the home and marriage and health that I have. But I also have begun to feel the pinch of exposure to the cold and the warmth as I go in and out. I have run out of firewood after several days of much enjoyed fires in our hearth. Like America as a whole this moment of my life is fraught with possibilities and laden with realities both wanted and unwanted.

This is a historic moment in American culture, life and politics. The new Trump administration has already been marked by the inaugural speech in which President Trump marked the transition. He began with some fairly normal remarks, that nonetheless probably offer some insights into the new era.

Thank you very much, everybody. Thank you very, very much. Vice President Vance, Speaker Johnson, Senator Thune, Chief Justice Roberts, justices of the United States Supreme Court, President Clinton, President Bush, President Obama, President Biden, Vice President Harris, and my fellow citizens.

There is a difference between the start of this speech and that of the speech at his 2017 inaugural:

Chief Justice Roberts, President Carter, President Clinton, President Bush, President Obama, fellow Americans, and people of the world: thank you.

Here the first words are to thank everyone and he also include salutations to party leadership in the US Congress. This Trump won the popular vote and has remade the Republican Party. We can expect a President Trump who will be aware of himself as a politician. That does not mean that he is not also the other things he has always been.

In 2017 Trump said,

We, the citizens of America, are now joined in a great national effort to rebuild our country and to restore its promise for all of our people.

Together, we will determine the course of America and the world for years to come.

The opening of the second inaugural address is a little different but not vastly different. In this speech Trump said:

The Golden Age of America begins right now. From this day forward, our country will flourish and be respected again all over the world. We will be the envy of every nation, and we will not allow ourselves to be taken advantage of any longer. During every single day of the Trump administration, I will, very simply put, put America first.

I sent President Trump a Christmas card care of the White House. I also served as an Election Commissioner at a precinct when he was elected in the general election. Today, I am interested to see how AMerica will chart its future course. However, I am a little old, tired, run-down and frayed to play much of a role in a new and burgeoning American experiment. However, I have invested a great deal of myself in the pursuit of a better future for America. Therefore, I will watch with interest to see what eventuates.

The pardon of the January 6 demonstrators, the deployment of troops to the border, the declaration of a National Energy Emergency, the plan to raise revenue with tariffs and the declarations about policy toward Greenland, the Panama Canal and the Gulf south of the Gulf Coast of the United States — these all proclaim a real change in America. For me it is hard to explain how much less I am emotionally involved in these changes. If I cannot find a way to retire soon my life will be painful and short. I just want to get what I think I deserve from a few different systems and adapt to a simple life with just enough to get by. I hope the Trump administration will be a period where that will happen.

I am living now and I am also trying to understand how to relate to the life I have lived up to this time. The future for me is about making the best from the end of my last vigorous strength to whatever follows death for me.

Not many posts ago I was writing a kind of memoir. I have written more than one. I am not sure why but I could speculate about what I am trying to say and why I feel compelled to say it in a number of unpublished autobiographical narratives. I am someone who has felt compelled to assert my faith in myself and willingness to try many things which had little chance of success. Those were things that seemed important and still seem important to me. It is just that now I am past the point in my life where I can hope to do something meaningful with the risks and work that I was involved with all through my life. Today, early in President Trump’s second term, I am aware that the world could change. I however am just seeking to pass the time in some peace and comfort than I am in most of those changes.

I am sixty years old. It is evident to me that many people in their sixties are aging but also harvesting the fruits of their decades of planning, labor, innovation and gamesmanship. For many the years between the birthday when they turn 60 and the birthday when they turn 70 is a time of prosperity and power. For me this part of my life is not without its joys and comforts. However, I know that for many people the period I live in can be a very challenging part of the life cycle. In my case a great deal is up in the air. I will see in the next year, whether I am completely going down in flames or whether I will see a period of some security with very limited possibilities for the reaping of some of the rewards that I have earned from a lifetime of toil, risk-taking and planning. The consequences of all this for me are clearly significant but what the consequences of my future will be for my family, community, personal legacy and the world is another thing altogether. l

One thing that is going on in my life right now is that I may be publishing a short story named Ports of Call that has some significance for me. The publisher and I are currently running into some technical issues with producing the final print manuscript or galley. I no longer have the energy or optimism to be confident there will be a publication. However, I am not giving up on the publication because we also have been able to overcome the glitches so far. But I have to hope that what is important to me will find its way into the real world of publication. The piece matters to me because it is my written work about things that matter. It is also a tiny sliver of the vast literary canon of work I have produced which has never been published and which is part of my lifelong struggle to bring certain things to the realm of possibility and the discussion of the people who can make the future happen — I am not among the echelons of those who can really see much of what they planned happen. On that nexus, on that scale I am pretty far down. The things that I have struggled most far require vastly more resources that are involved in operating a small store. Operating a small store requires a vast amount more resources and where-with-all than I have at my disposal.

For me, the chasm between my personal status and the place I would need to be to break even in the bigger picture has always been more like the Grand Canyon than a moat. For me there is not much chance that I will ever feel that I am both secure and doing what I ought to be doing… at least in terms of my work. I am at the last stages of a journey that has included studies of many kinds and many kinds of work. There are however stages of building to something that one hopes to achieve, and I have not built much if anything. The Sacred scriptures state in Psalm127 verse one: “If the Lord does not build the House, then in vain do the builders labor.” While many do not believe in the Lord, most people know that in fact some people do not build much that endures and others find almost all that they build endures. For me there is just the end of a personal journey. I am grateful to have married a very good woman that I really love. Her support has written some new text into my life’s story. However, I am not in very good shape these days and without a few big wins in the struggles that I currently am engaged with, (and which could turn out badly) it is hard to say what chance I have of being able to hold up a reasonable part of this marriage’s responsibility.

The loss of almost all the hopes and dreams of a lifetime has been most of the theme and structure of my life’s narrative. I hope that I can find a tiny fraction of the potential for happiness and a good life that Clara and I had just a few years ago for the remainder of my life. What I don’t think is possible is that I will find a period mature fulfillment of a life’s dreams. I am perhaps lucky to be alive.

An Extraordinary Week for Present Happenings and Memories

This 21st day of January 2025 is an unusual day. My wife Clara and I have both known real winters. She lived and worked in a retreat house complex and a rent house near it deep in the Catskills. She lived their real winters for years I have spent winter or large parts of winters in the snows of northern China, New Mexico’s mountains, Ohio, New York City, Canada and Europe. We have lots experience of snow. But we are having our first shared snow in the years since we have been back together after separating in middle school. However, we are having the snow in our hometown of Abbeville, Louisiana. Abbeville, Louisiana is a place that more or less never has sustained snowfall producing an enduring blanket of snow. Snow here is minimal and fleeting. But today there is something else happening. .

It is snowing today and has been snowing. This is the Tuesday after the Inauguration of Donald J. Trump as the 47th President of the United States. He is the only other President to serve nonconsecutive terms since Grover Cleveland served as the 22d President of the United States of America from 1885 to 1889 and as the 24th President of the United States1893 to 1897. It was during his second administration that Lafayette, the larger city just to our North got 14 inches of snow. The greatest snowfall this region has ever recorded. It is one of those coincidences that may not mean much. But it seems extraordinarily eventful and resounds with meaning as we experience this moment. This President Trump has been targeted for assassination and wounded. This President Trump has been convicted of dozens of felonies. This President Trump did not have an inaugural parade. This President Trump had his swearing in Ceremony in the U.S. Capitol Rotunda.

The future he spoke about is tied to plans that he has begun to put forward in a a series of executive orders, many of which were issued within hours of his becoming President again. This Monday was also the College Football Playoffs Championship Game. We had a struggle between two teams from the cold northern part of the country played in Georgia. This was as a President who is a New Yorker living in Georgia became President and a man who is from Ohio and represents the most famous current literary expression of Hillbilly life became Vice President. This was a time of cold and wintry associations. But perhaps it will be a dawning of a new age for America after all. The leaders of the Republicans in the House of Representatives are both from my Southern state of Louisiana. Mike Johnson and Steve Scalise were on stage with Trump and Vance at several times during the ceremonial process. So it is not as though my own region was excluded from a momentous transforming event in American history.

This week also saw the death of Director David Lynch on January 15. One of my closest lifelong friends who now lives with his wife in Argentina has been a very serious fan of David Lynch for many years. He and I watched the reboot of Twin Peaks together in the living room of my grandparents old home when he was in Abbeville caring for his dying father. In recognition of this event Clara and I watched one of his films on our streaming service during the cold spell. My lovely wife also made a great gumbo and a very good taco soup and we have enjoyed some very good fires in our fire place. But the extraordinary event has been the snow. Somehow, snow in Abbeville is the extraordinary frame for what ever else is happening at this time. It is in the snow in this Southern coastal plain that is stitched together by marshes, swamps, prairies, farms and the ports and oil rigs and oil refineries dotted with small cities and large towns. It is a not a land of snow. But it is snowing now.

If it can really snow here, then maybe other extraordinary things can happen. I am still waiting to see how my SSDI journey will turn out. I am still involved in a lawsuit which alone would wear on me heavily if nothing else was on my mind. I feel an every increasing set of burdens from my health conditions. But I do worry about and hope for the country to progress. I do hope that maybe somehow there will be an oil company that will lease the little bit of land I have — which I am pretty sure has oil under it. I am more than willing to benefit from a boom in oil and gas exploration, if one ensues. I am not expecting much, but I still hope to be able to cobble together something that will allow me to live with dignity and in the life my wife and I a are building still. If that happens it will happen in the second Trump administration.

I have a whole life to look back on and be aware that mostly the story is told, the game is played and the adventure will not have more chapters. But my life might have a long closing chapter with some nice passages. The adventure is mostly over but the former adventurer has a few good years left of this life if I am lucky.

Monday was also Martin Luther King (Junior) Day. Clara and my mother and I attended an MLK gala in Abbeville, Louisiana. It was held on the Saturday nine days before the actual celebration on January 20th and was organized by REACH. We had a good time but it also brought up memories of all the complexities of my life as I saw some people I have worked with many time over the years and watched the flow of remembered scenes related to all the things that MLK and his legacy have been involved in during my life time. It is an era that will offer chances to see new depths of suffering or a time of relative ease as I bow off the stages I have trod.

For me there is no certainty about what is next but the continuity throughout my life is one of dealing with change and not controlling it.

. .

Land I need to sell, with a heavy heart

This is a beautiful wilderness piece with potential for a camp.

Chapter Twenty of Online Memoir: Sidetracks, Reflections and Impossible Events

My memoir has progressed to the recounting and interpretation of the events of my life in 1978. That is  even more specifically the time in 1978 when we were leaving La Cuchilla as our tourist visa expired. We were headed back home without a car. But it was a busy time and in recounting the recent years I left out two viewing experiences in 1977 that had a profound impact on me. One was the Jesus of Nazareth television series directed by Zeferelli. The other was watching Star Wars; The New Hope as it was widely released. Our whole family went to see it at a cinema in Charlottesville, VIrginia when we were staying with Jim and Kathy on one of the visits we had with them.   Both of these viewing experiences would stay very much part of me. I was still influenced by both experiences in 1988 when living as a married man, sometimes with my first wife and sometimes alone, I was able to watch the work of Joseph Campbell and his religious studies that had so influenced the world of George Lucas and his world of creative imagined cosmology. Of the two films the television series about Jesus probably impressed me more deeply because I felt that my spiritual connections and observances  were being portrayed by such a high level cast and director and communicated into American living rooms.  Few Americans realize that there are all day cinemas in many countries and some of them showed Jesus of Nazareth regularly for years. Other miniseries I have seen in such venues were Roots and Shogun. But as I recall Jesus of Nazareth was one such show that did at least as well as any other. I was moved by the experience of watching the film in an all day cinema in Mexico. 

But as big as Jesus of Nazareth was, Star Wars was huge in my experience of 1977 as well. Clara and I very much enjoy watching Star Wars films. May 4, 2024 was Star Wars Day, “May the Fourth Be With You” Day. Clara and I talked about the canon of films but we were busy going to help a family member as we woke up, then going to a gym, then picking up food at a fair, then going to a rosary and anticipated mass and then being treated  to dinner at a great local restaurant by my mother. We just didn’t get to celebrate Star Wars Day. But we made up for it on our streaming platform the next day. Clara and I watched Star Wars IV:  the New Hope on our couch. We had a rather full weekend, the May Fest supporting Vermilion Catholic: A Legacy of Mount Carmel. Had us eating, listening to live bands and playing cake bingo, where Clara won a German chocolate cake. We enjoyed eating the cake as we watched the film on Disney Plus. May fifth started with me waking up early and Clara woke up to join me.   I had just finished the last of my required continuing education courses for my Louisiana Life, Health and Accident Insurance Producer’s license. I had done some of the last course on disability insurance while standing in line waiting to donate plasma at the Talecris Plasma Resources center in Lafayette, Louisiana. Sadly, I had a deferral which has only happened a relatively few times in the years in which I have donated hundreds of times. However, this time I was anemic. My hematocrit (percent the volume of my blood made up by red blood cells) was just one percent too low. This worries me but in a life of many worries there is not going to be a lot of sleep lost just over the anemia itself. However, I am well aware that I do not have a great history of solid healthcare and I may not get to the age of Medicare at 65 healthy enough to fully benefit from that amazing opportunity for better healthcare. Later on in the evening of May 4, 2024 we watched Rogue One together. These were our festivities. OVER OTHER DAYS IN OUR THREE YEARS TOGETHER AS A COUPLE: I think we have watched most of the Star Wars movies and television shows together at least once. We have also watched some documentaries about the making of the first three films At other times in my life I watched Joseph Campbell and the Power of Myth with Bill Moyers interviewing Joseph Campbell and I read the books of Joseph Campbell after I saw the interviews and bought the companion book for the television series. I was very much aware that George Lucas and his associates were deeply influenced by the thought of Joseph Campbell. However, the links I have to science fiction and its appeals go far beyond the Star Wars universe. My interest in writing and books goes very far and wide indeed. 

As I discussed before on May 4, 2024 Clara and I talked a bit about Star Wars but did not view the films because we were otherwise engaged. Instead that day we  went to work out at our health club, picked up some food from the May Fest booths (partly because it was good food and partly to use up our remaining tickets).   

What was happening on our side of the screen was very different from the epic saga and massively consequential adventure being portrayed. It was also different from the hugely successful and seminal blockbuster film that laid the foundation for an arts and entertainment empire. Our lives do not much resemble Star Wars. But oddly enough, it is  about my life’s own version of a Star Wars epic that  this chapter of my memoir is mostly about. Space has been a subject already approached and the letter from President Joe Biden in the last chapter was very much a demonstration of how space has become and remained an important interest. In time, if I live to finish this memoir, there will be quite a bit of text devoted to the Crater Cap Colony Concept and the groups and efforts associated with it for many years. But this chapter is about something else that being a Star Wars fan or trying to have a voice regarding human space exploration and colonization. This is not really in the same category as my discussions of mystical experience. This is about my own improbable take on what has been called the experience of encounters with extraterrestrials and extraterrestrial civilizations. What I am writing is not exactly a report and it is certainly not an essay advocating a particular point of view. It is more like a portrait of what exists in some unique region of my mind that is both memory and imagination.         

On Tuesday April 30, 2024 I attended a six o’clock meeting of the Writers Guild of Acadiana. The featured speaker was Joseph N. Abraham M.D. The little blurb about the author on his most recent book describes him thus:

JOSEPH N. ABRAHAM M.D. is an emergency physician and evolutionary biologist with academic backgrounds in art, chemistry, and French. An omnivorous  reader and inveterate  traveler, Abraham draws on his diverse backgrounds to offer a new examination of the human condition. Dr. Abraham  is a VIetnam veteran who writes and publishes the  blog Bookscrounger.com 

I have known Joseph Abraham on Facebook for a long time. I won his book Kings, Conquerors, Psychopaths: From Alexander to Hitler to the Corporation is a book that has won all sorts of awards. He is a very practical man as well as an intellectual. We have communicated a significant if not really large amount about some of his previous works as well as about posts on either of our accounts. He has a number of strong positions that differ from mine. But the biggest difference is how much more he has dialed into the business of success. At least that is how it seems to me. I am not a very successful person by the standard of leaving offspring behind, building a fortune, holding high office or any of a number of other measures.   

The chances of me being impractical and also very much out of synch with many things were  already very high. My mind was full of poets, writers, adventurers, aristocrats trying to keep together great estates, inventors sacrificing for their creations and martyrs dying for their faith. It was far from urgent that I have  yet another reason to avoid engaging in the all consuming work of getting along and making one’s way in life. It is that sense of being about all sorts of impractical ideals and obligations that has been one of my most distinguishing marks. The real world had plenty of demands to make and I was not always fully able to respond to those demands.   

When we left Cuchilla Del Tesoro and Mexico City it was to leave Mexico itself because our 6 month tourist visa had expired. This chapter is about a number of things but it is not mostly about the time we spent in Abbeville between living in la Cuchilla and living in Colombia. This is a little bit different in that it is much more about the parts of my life that cannot be easily verified by any external source.  I remember that I was on my way back to the house after a long day seeing the sites and saying goodbye with some of my friends. Then I decided to take a separate set of public transit connections to get home. On my way home, I had four hours of lost time. When I got home I wrote some notes and drew some pictures in a notebook that I hid among some things in a bag in a hole in the building wall. That could be covered and made to look like a pretty normal section of the wall.  I made a timeline of related events that went all the way back to my early childhood. Among the drawings in the notebook were drawings that resembled the Maya pyramids, although I had never visited those pyramids – only the Aztec sites and those mostly in samples and dioramas in the museums we had visited and the displays we had seen in a day we spent touring and speaking at prayer groups at the enormous Ciudad Universitaria . The pyramids were also probably used  as a design motif in a modified street fair ride that spun around. But in my drawing the little figures on the  steps stacked into a pyramid. The seats were gimbaled somehow. The pyramid was in a sphere. When the ship in which the pyramid sat was on the ground the pyramid worked with our  planet’s gravity. In moving through space and the upper atmosphere the chamber spins so that the thrust comes from the area at the base of the pyramid. The spin of the chamber is however continuous this spin pulls out laterally and with the use of electrical fields and magnetism the ship is able to divide the g forces going down by the g-forces going outward in such a way that livable gravitational balance is sustained. The sphere with the pyramid was conned by telescoping arms to six other smaller spheres and the whole substructure was built into an outer structure made up of hundred of superflexible wings that spun in two sets connecting an upper and lower ring to a double equatorial ring, one set is from ring around the top of the upper sphere to flexible ring connecting all of the four spheres on the equator of the ship. The other set of wings is almost identical but is from the lower ring to the equatorial ring. Bags, bellows and jets made of superstrong gel  fill the space under the skin made of wings and outside of the structure of seven spheres.gasses and plasma are ejected through all three rings and the skin of wings. The ships can change sizes and shapes to a shocking degree. I have a hard time remembering how much of this detail was in the notebook I created in the Cuchilla. I know that my notes on the comms and propulsions came much later. I noticed then that I could only visualize the ships when I did not directly try to place them in my memory or analyze them very much. If I focussed on when, where and how I had seen these ships they disappeared from my mind’s eye. 

Gradually I embarked on exercises that allowed me to write and draw huge amounts of words and images about alien ships but for years it all disappeared if I asked myself what this  information might represent in my own life. In the years to come I struggled  to draw the engines from various points of view. In the later drawings there was never the definition of the details of the engines that I achieved with the outer mechanical structures of the ship. The  basic structures that I saw were a hemisphere of carefully arranged and ordered jewels in bands and beds of gold, platinum, silver,zinc and lead. Iron filaments flow like living things through hundreds of nesting transparent crystal hemispheres resting on the lower sphere and completing the sphere as a whole.Hydrogen and metals flow through conduits on the nearly molten hemisphere of metal and jewels. These small units of matter are conditioned, charged and energized in very specific ways while various beams and pulses maneuver them into various points, then the more powerful beams fuses the atoms in the materials and the energy is sent through countless conduits in different directions.  The whole sphere is located in a set of angular lines and rays appearing and disappearing between a set of projectors. The whole engine per se sits in a hemisphere below the pyramid hemisphere. Above the engine sets the drive. The drive has a crystal lens floating in a kind of force field for each crystal layer of the crystal hemisphere of the engine.  The field in which each floats is folded onto the surface of its hemisphere of crystal. Six sets of projectors move a single point around in the drive to transmit energy into a larger hemisphere which conducts energy and information throughout the ship.   Meanwhile excess energy produced by the fusion reactions is swirling in a cloud of  exotic particles around the drive point. 

 Much of the room is filled with a complicated amalgam of crystals wires, vines, fungi and a kind of artificial animal brain. Together, these formed a living computer that managed the engine and comms systems of the ship.  By accessing geometric principles that affect space time itself the ships can find ephemeral portals through space and time.   These comms are also able to interact with the brainwaves, bio-electric fields and electromagnetic spheres created in nature.   

The skins made of wings can take in water, air, other gasses and these are also connected to the living computer which processes them into chemicals and compounds needed on the ship. The outer six spheres each have a residential section, a storage section and a section that includes more mechanical and functional ship systems. The ship’s populations vary in size. There are weapons in all of these ships but they vary in potency and complexity. However, in whatever this fantasy, dream, vision or memory is – the people in this ship are not able to come in vast numbers to visit or occupy Earth  and are not able to remain here forever. 

The crew in my pictures consisted of the same three species of human like people on most ships. One of the species are short and could be blueish or greenish in color and very strong and stout with three six fingered hands and two six-toed feet.   These creatures are primarily concerned with mechanical, electronic and chemical operations on each ship. They however sometimes assist the striped obviously muscled pointed faced and  large pointed ear  warriors with large teardrop shaped eyes and nostrils. Mostly the three armed blue dwarves help the warrior types in maintaining the operations of the engine and drive. These striped.  These creatures often wear a suit which gives them a placid expressionless look and because of a field generated in the suit it makes it possible for them to appear much more slight and willowy than they actually are. The suits also extend their height and reach.  The are able to fly short distances and levitate in their suits. They are about 90% males in the groups that come here. The lowest level males are completely sexually dormant. The highest cast impregnate most of the females who have six pronounced breasts and usually give birth to triplets which are usually identical.  The other species are  the most like humans but are about seven feet tall among males and 6 foot five among females. The tend to be slighter than humans on average and wear jewelry, capes, robes, complex insignia and tattoos. They have no hair except atop their heads and in a few spots on their bodies. They study the philosophy, religion, history, mathematics and physics that become relevant and generally control communications and create navigational routes and plans. Council on the mother ship is made up of about half the seats belong to these  creatures that I have described last and about a quarter of the seats belong to each of the other  other two species.. Additionally, they have some kind of pronounced telepathic ability. Usually the commander of a motherships is one of them but not always. 

There are three classes of ships. The middle class lodge four smaller ships in the four equatorial orbs and these ships are very similar except for scale. The mother ship is made up of hub with arms continuing racks on which twelve of the middle size    Most of the females that travel live on the mothership. They tend the young and the plants. There are three distinct spheres imitating the homeworld of each of the three species with plants and animals from that world. Then there is a sort of palace garden sphere. No mothership has ever visited our solar system. They use their engines and drives and other devices to open a portal through which the middle size ships fly. These ships visit us. I am under the impression that a mothership is approaching us at about  half the speed of light with occasional skips through a particularly promising portal. They estimate its arrival in our solar system in about 5,000 years. The motherships communicate across enormous distances with one another and the smaller ships have limited capacity for truly distant communication.       

The motherships  move endlessly through the universe by having semi-detached scout ships using rays, fusion bombs of very small size and clashing fields to tear and stretch portals through those parts of time and space that can be opened by them. Meanwhile the maintain a king of rocket in which a tornado of forces which drive the ships on a relative straight line of forward progress and acceleration while the steering system changes space as they proceed.

Yes, I have at times created whole folders and books of the details of these ships and peoples and at times I have burnt whole sets of such books. But in the years and convolutions of the images I have only linked a few days and hours and minutes of lost time. I have only found a few meager traces of effects on certain places. I will return to this impossible subject again. But I remember that leaving Mexico City was a time when I first took a deep organized dive into whatever these thoughts are all about.

Chapter Nineteen of Online Memoir: Masses, Margins and Metros in Mexico City

Life has brought me back to some places more than once and to others only once. It seems a better and more effective way to write a memoir to go evenly from ur time in Cuernavaca and IDeal and tell how we followed the trip medical progress of my uncle Jed  as we connected with the Justicia and Alabanza community and Dad began working with Will Rodriguez an evangelist in the Mega-city that was Mexico City in 1978. But I think of a time a little later when we would come back for the visit for Pope John Paul’s visit in 1979 when millions came to see the Pope at several venues. By then we would have Susanna Maria SUmmers born in Colombia on September 20, 1978. Sarah still had some memories of Cuchilla del Tesoro and we had come down in a vehicle and parked in front of what had been our apartment  building  in 1978. It was a somewhat refurbished and livable vehicle. It was simply  a stop on the way to our longer and more eventful mission in San Pedro Atzcapotzaltongo (or Villa Nicolas Romero) near Mexico City. We were drawn back there and had many reunions with friends and prayer groups near the busy airport.   I remember tacking a man coming out of the shadow of our van in panic after returning after midnight from a prayer group.He seemed to be very much caught in the act of doing something he was afraid to be held accountable for but he would not really fight me or confess before he left the area and I did not see him again. 

 I had grown and filled out a bit compared to when we arrived only with Sarah the first time. During the Pope’s visit I  also hung out with three siblings. It was another lesson in life’s road. I had feelings for one sister and she did not much care for me but her sister did have feelings for me. I remember her fondly but I was aware at the time that there was something about the cruelty of the situation that had nothing to do with the fact that we were all too young to have much of the relationships we were dreaming about and trying to discuss. It was all pretty innocent but also pretty genuinely sad. I came to visit Mexico City a number of times. Once or twice a group of people came up to give me booklets in Spanish on social and religious theories. One of them explained a history of what would be known as the Theology of Liberation. ANother was about how Jesus had a separate tradition from the Christian Churches that also came from him – a line of sacred prostitutes and knights. All of it was hard to process and it was coming at a time when I was learning about Alcoholics Anonymous,  the Freemasons,  the Guerreros Cristeros who had fought against repression of the Church in Mexico in the 20’s and also revolutionaries of the likes of Pancho VIlla. With all these things and others I will return to in a later chapter on San Pedro I went alone to Cuchilla on a visit and stayed with the Rodriguez family in their home.on March 14, 1979. I slept in their home full of troubled dreams. While I slept the rest of the family left the building and sirens filled the streets and the ceiling and roof cracked above me and my bed moved twenty feet from inside a bedroom looking out at the morning sky. There had been a large earthquake and I had never woken up. But in the night I slept to the shock of everyone and emerged unscathed. I had dreams which have stayed with me all my life and are more prominent than any of my waking experiences in that place. For me, the Cuchilla will always be a place where earth split and the sky was laid bare to my waking eyes.  But that was long enough after we first arrived there for it to really be a different story.

I was working on this chapter as April wrapped up and May drew near in 2024 in Abbeville, Louisiana. Whatever it was that occupied me in this period that ran from my wife’s 60th birthday on Saturday the 20th of April. It was a special party and like almost everything in this memoir, I am holding back something about it because it seems to make life even more ridiculous to expose the hurt and pain of life for so little consequence.  I am unpaid for this and have so very few readers. It is important to me to note that on the 27th of April I worked as an election commissioner for the Precinct that I live in for an election in which our precinct only had two local tax renewals on our ballots. I also voted there. Clara supported me wonderfully, bringing me a Sonic diet cherry limeade. There was a very low turnout and I made sarcastic remarks about it. I also got paid $200 for my 13 hours on the clock. I was plenty tired afterwards. But the system is built for the heavy turnout elections and from a system point of view these small elections are easier and function as a valid election but also a rehearsal to keep all the systems in good shape, including the performance of commissioners like myself.  It is both sad that less than ten percent of the voters in my precinct showed up to vote for something that matters AND ALSO it was a proof of the great expense that is laid out for Americans to express themselves politically. Because I knew that I was going to be writing about this period in my life I could not help could but compare all of this to life in the forming Colonia (not yet fully a colonia) San Lazaro where my father and sometimes I ministered when we lived in Colonia Cuchilla del Tesoro in Mexico CIty in 1978.    Unlike the people of my precinct in 2024 who were not willing to vote on the infrastructure issues on their ballot, the people of San Lazaro came to the prayer meetings that we had and besides the prayers, Bible study and shared snacks they had a very big infrastructure issue. Waste water and sewage pooled in their neighborhood and the synch was sickening. Germs and disease were prevalent and there was contamination of the water they had access to for drinking and washing. But the people had petitioned for the public plumbing, grading and paving at the heart of their community to be done.  That public infrastructure was the focus of the prayers and my father was happy to report it as God’s blessing when the city came and started working on their problems. I was happy to praise God because it seemed I might go to most of those prayer meetings and not get sick. However, from a point of view of how exactly God may have heard the prayers of his people in San Lazaro, there are some facts. It is not hard to believe that there were in fact people in the city who investigated the situation and found that a foreigner whose father was on the highest court of the US State of Louisiana and who was a lawyer educated in law schools in New Orleans, New York and London  was visiting these people. It was not a matter of hatred for the people of San Lazaro that would have kept them in the desperate situation. They responded to the potential risks of the village being healed or being neglected. WHile the village thanked God for the change they also thanked the government, they continued to work hard and with less sickness and misery they improved their houses and developed small businesses more quickly and people paid their taxes. It was a good outcome. This would be a pattern of the SUmmers family ministry in the days before Family Missions Company. A number of time we were able to direct and redirect new attention to a variety of needs, problems and resources and things changed for the better. Often the vehicle was a prayer meeting. I had little doubt then and still believe now that God heard the prayers of  the people gathered to pray. It was a very powerful moment in our lives and there would be others.      

This chapter has seen some time pass in getting it out to the miniscule readership and slightly larger potential readership that could be said to await this chapter, Like most of the chapters of this memoir, this one starts with a look at the recent days and then ties back to a time and place in the past. The time  and place in the past was the time when we first lived in the Colonia Cuchilla del Tesoro near the large international airport in Mexico City . I will discuss it a bit more in my usual rambling way. But it was in those days the city was also the Distrito Federal, like our District of Columbia plays a unique role in the United States, this federal district played a special role in the constitution of the United Mexican States.  The city had its roots in the Aztec capitol city of Tenochtitlan. It was a city of causeways, a few highlands and many man-made floating islands. There was even a system for causing the natural salts to be pooled separately from the freshwater used for drinking and agriculture. A center of governance, military administration, religion and human sacrifice that supported large scale cannibalism. Then there was SPanish conquest and Catholic evangelization. It was on these foundations that the modern megacity of Mexico City had risen. 

It was the largest city in the world and from its streets, I often watched the jets come and go from the airport. In other places in the city I looked at the little bit of snow caps on the mountains. Snow was among the things that did not occur  any closer to the equator than this. We knew that we were South of Louisiana and deeper into the more tropical latitudes. But you could drive or ride a car for a few minutes for a really good view of the snow  in the winter. You could also expect plenty  of relatively cold  winter days in Mexico CIty itself. It was yet another part of my education in my overall immersive understanding of geography. 

With jets, snow caps and the interest I had in the stars, I found Mexico CIty a place to look up. I still look up. In recent days  (April 24, 2024) I received an email in response to the message I had sent to the White House about space. I have attached the  test of the message in the body of this chapter. I am a part of the lunatic fringe of people who are really very serious about colonizing the Moon and Mars. We do not all agree and yet we all agree in the space colonizing community that the stakes of getting it right are pretty high.

The real story of that part of my life is for a much later chapter. But I do remember that there was a great deal of talk about space among a few of the people I knew and almost no talk of space among most people I knew. But there was another factor, it was a matter of language. In the English spoken around me in my childhood, Heaven was where God reigned over the angels and where the souls of the Blessed went when they died.  Sky was where the clouds formed and the stars and sun shone down upon the Earth. But, in Spanish “CIelo” covered the meaning of SKy and Heaven in the English of my childhood. 

There are many things from my life that are not easy to recount.  Some things are hard to fit into the records I am able to find. I am pretty sure of a storm, earthquake or public event of some magnitude and it is still not easy to figure out which one it was some times. Writing down one’s own history is much more challenging than some people might think. I was in a significant earthquake in Cuchilla del Tesoro. I was sleeping at the home of WIll Rodriguez the evangelist and my friend Benito who was his brother- in- law.  WIll was a  Rodriguez who had married another Rodriguez. That must have been on a visit to the Colonia not during the period described in this chapter. I have not been back in many, many years but I did visit it on a number of occasions.     

 The White HouseDear Mr. Summers,Thank you for writing to me about the wonders of space. 

Our Nation’s space program has always blazed trails into the deep unknown—from landing the first humans on the Moon to launching the Space Shuttle and International Space Station programs and developing the climate-monitoring Earth System Observatory.  And we’re just getting started.

Recently, NASA launched the world’s newest and most powerful deep-space telescope to peer back in time to the origin of the Universe.  Thanks to the James Webb Space Telescope, we can now see light from the oldest galaxies over 13 billion years ago, a testament to the power of American ingenuity and collaboration. 

We will continue to invest in science and technology in order to accomplish great things.  Importantly, in collaboration with commercial and international partners, NASA will lead a triumphant return to the Moon with the Artemis program.  This innovative and sustainable program will land the first woman and first person of color on the Moon, establish a long-term presence on the Moon, and learn about living and working farther away from Earth than ever before in preparation to send the first astronauts to Mars. 

Thank you again for sharing your enthusiasm for space and what lies beyond the cosmos.  Together we will continue to show the world that our Nation can do big things, and that there is nothing beyond our capabilities.  America is defined by possibilities, and the endless possibilities of space exploration are within our reach.Sincerely,Joe Biden

Each phase in my life and each place I have lived has left a mark upon me. My awareness of the way that Colonia la Cuchilla del Tesoro impacted me has developed over time.  I was feeling aware of the world in different ways when we got to Mexico City. My friends and I used to watch the jets come and go   and sometimes we talked about where they were coming from and where they were going. I don’t remember meeting anyone in the neighborhood besides myself and my parents who had ever flown on a jet. Furthermore,  there were very few people who worked at any of the many jobs a large airport creates. I never saw mechanics, custodians, pilots or vendors from the airport in the neighborhood. It was like a huge portal to the wide world  bursting with resources, noise and complexity that was divided from another huge world bursting with resources, noise and complexity. The two worlds were divided by a fence  and in most places by a trench that ran at the end of our block. The biggest difference was that I knew the people in the airport and the jets could mostly ignore the colonia but in the colonia we were frequently interrupted by the almost deafening roar  of the jets. I have flown out of a lot of airports including several in Mexico during the 59 years of my life  – but even now I don’t recall even having a layover in the big airport in Mexico City.  I suppose it is meaningful to me that a few things have not changed from when I first looked through the fence at the airport.

It was hard to accept all that was different about lives on each side of the fence. But I thought about it quite a bit. WHat were those differences and why did they matter. 

Monday,  April 22, 2024: I had a meeting with an experienced and successful insurance agent. I enjoyed what he had to say. However, I was aware of the general decline of the petty professionals like independent insurance agents based in small town America, freelance writers and untenured teachers. I do the best I can and I legitimately like the company that I am working for now. I feel like the work I do is pretty important and I am hoping that with some effort and a little of what we call luck I might be able to do it for a living while I donate plasma and work as an election commissioner. I am probably not busy enough to make a living and that gives me time to tend plants, cut grass, do some more cooking and laundry etc. I am pretty sure that the down time not spent on the clock is something that appeals to me. I am not a person who falls into the middle of a lot of averages and hangs out in the middle of a lot of bell curves. But of course there are some exceptions. I have tried to answer the   test called the Political Compass Test honestly over the years and I have moved sound a bit. However, although the exact position has varied I have always been placed much closer to the center than either the authoritarian or libertarian extremes.  I have also always gotten a result nearer to the center than to the right or left extremes of the test. That used to surprise me more than it does nowadays. 

Clara and I attended the rite of Confirmation within the  Mass for my niece and her first cousin who were confirmed at St. Pius X Catholic Church in Lafayette, Louisiana on Sunday, April 21, 2024. We then went to a reception at my sister Mary Hindelang’s in-laws home where there was cake, a soft drinks bar, a spread of snacks and appetizers and decorations for the occasion. Earlier that day Clara and I had picked up the shrimp dinners she had ordered from the Knights of Columbus and we had eaten those dinners at home. We then stopped at Costco where we did a small amount of shopping. Once that was done we headed home. Later in the evening we had leftovers fro supper that remained from the party the night before. 

  . 

On Saturday April 20, 2024 we celebrated Clara’s birthday in our home. We had a cake and buffet (to which some guests contributed potluck dishes) , an open soft drink bar and an open bar of the other kind.  Decorations announced the occasion and in some decorations there were stacks of photographs taken throughout Clara’s life that people could look through. We also had a gift table and after the cake was served to everyone, Clara opened gifts. We had sent our two dogs Abby and Bella to the dogsitter. Besides Clara and I we had her sister G—- and nephew Z_____ but  hubby D_____ could not come. Among the first to arrive were Freddy and Sandy Dubois, the couple that led our marriage preparation classes.  Clara’s godfather R______ and his wife C______ came from New Iberia as did her cousins P— and D—–  P. & D. are the couple from whom she adopted  our two dogs over two separate litters. We had her brother Father Edward.   We also had my sister Sarah, her husband Kevin and their children I—b–, J— and E—but I—-a- could not come because he had another party he had to attend that evening. My sister Mary was there with her husband C—- and two of their five children N— and J—-. Our good friends in whose presence we started our adult relationship J–c– M— and her brother J—d- M— were there as well as J—c–’s son S—- J—-. In addition two mre of Jackie’s dear friends M— L—- T— R— and A– M— E— were there, along with this J–c– M—  and Clara herself these two other  ladies were the four woman majority of a tight group of female friends called the YO YOs.  

The party was not overly complex  but it was very nice, I think. I cooked a large beef brisket, a homemade chicken rice-a-roni style  dish, chicken soup dumplings, several kinds of rice and gravy as well as setting out a bowl of fruit. Guests who chose to bring something combined to provide: a guacamole dip, rice dressing, potato salad, spaghetti and cheese as well as an additional cookie cake to compliment the birthday cake. Nobody seemed to be doing without.         

When we first moved to Mexico City I had memories of having lived in two modern megacities, New York and London. They had left their impact on my life, character and perspectives. Each of these two cities was very different. In Soho in London there was a mix of graduate students, artists, small businesses and  sex workers among the flats, and walkup townhouses that dominated the area. New York CIty had a block association that ran a small park and we all knew about it . Our building had a buzz-in foyer and a set of elevators that almost always worked. There were professionals in the lawyer and doctor class but the general demographic was much the same. Cuchilla del Tesoro had lots of private homes with small gardens in their atria. They were two or three stories in many cases and in a culture with limited financing they were mostly being built or added on to by the people living in them. But there were businesses and shops of many kinds. There were a few apartment complexes and one of them was  the one we rented. It had clotheslines built into a structure on the roof and a washtub, concrete washboard which had running water and a good set of drains under the stairs. Like most buildings in the area and much of Mexico the wall of the building was right flush with the sidewalk. In our case there were no windows on the lower level facing the street. A utility room and a gate for the whole complex made a solid wall. Our apartment had windows that looked out onto the atrium’ s lower level, across an empty but painted  wall and a staircase. There were no apartments on the other side of the courtyard, so it was not a true atrium but meant to feel like one. My memory is growing dim on odd things, I am really not sure if there were two or four apartments in our complex but I believe we had four. Two rented to families that lived there and two to business people who were almost never there. There was one other tiny studio on the same floor and it was rented to some business person who was almost never there. The upper floor was occupied by two  apartments. There were two little girls, Blanca and Adriana who became good friends of Sarah’s. There was another studio rented to a business person almost always out of town.The apartment was very near the airport. Our block bordered on the outer fence of the airport but the fence extended around a lot of open space between our block and the buildings and runways. Nonetheless there were many times during the day when the planes taking off and landing created noise that was truly deafening in our home.   

We faced a class in becoming habituated to the interruptions until we did not notice them. We occasionally made  simple tapes to send home in those days or even to a very few potential benefactors. We were operating in a position where I was not in school and my parents were doing a variety of things. But the central assignment we had as a missionary unit was to work with WIll Rodriguez. He lived in the same fairly large house with his wife and some of her family including her brother, his brother- in- law who was not more than 20 years old at the time. He and I would become friends. I valued his help in teaching me to improve my Spanish and we sometimes met to try and discuss the Bible. My father was invited to go with WIll and he assisted with music, learned the basic memorized prayers and some of the most used Bible verses – not very well at all. But he did learn and with some translations from leaders in the Justicia y Alabanza community, Dad and Will got to know each other, in the flow of things WIll began to tell the story of Dad’s spiritual journey with Christ. That is called a “testimony”. 

. It was with Will that Dad had begun the ministry to San Lazaro that was discussed in the first paragraphs of this chapter. I wished to be clear that this was my father’s ministry although we all did our part to support it. I did take up a small job teaching a shopkeeper English. He was able to tutor me a little form a math book in Spanish and paid me a differential of a bag of groceries and a few pesos. However, he only found this arrangement worthwhile for about twelve lessons.  We met  three times each week. I also took advantage of study and an occasional hourly job from the social services ministry in the local church parish. But there was nothing like full-time school, full-time ministry or full time work. My life was a hodgepodge of activity     

Just an American connecting an interest with the President….

Online Memoir Chapter Eighteen: A sense of Sacrifice and Mission

On April 18, 2024 I woke up at 4:45 to take Abby, our oldest Tsi Tzu. outside to relieve herself. Unfortunately upon coming inside she began to vomit and eventually my wife and I were up together cleaning up dog vomit. Yesterday, I was helping my mother prepare some online orders for a few birthday presents in the family, it took all the time we had till she had an appointment to run off and see my brother in the Behavioral Medicine Clinic. Earlier that day I visited my godfather who seemed to be in very poor health, although we did not really visit because he remained asleep while I was there. Our evening together included a pleasant interlude at a local art gallery and museum exhibiting young artists including the daughter of one of her coworkers.  We followed the visit to the gallery with participating in a rosary at church for three children having open heart surgeries in the coming days. My life today is one in which I am very aware of suffering and in which I expect there to be many troubles around me which I cannot easily address. But in 1978 in Cuernavaca, our family were hoping to start a new phase as Spanish speaking  missionaries in Mexico. We had a kind of optimism. Part of it came from the climate and the place we were in at the time. Weather still affects my mood I suppose.

The springtime weather is pleasant here (and we know in south Louisiana that for many of us Summer will be much harsher) the weather in January 1977 in Cuernavaca was pleasant as well. The Soviet Union had not nearly fallen in those days and Leonid Illich Brezhnev was the General Secretary of the Communist Party and the extremely powerful executive of the USSR  and Alexei Kosygin was the premier of the Soviet Union. There had been a time when the offices were fused but separating them had not greatly liberalized power relations. There was a Ukrainian- American at IDEAL studying with us who was very eager to oppose the Soviet backed communist machinations in Latin America. But he made it clear that he did not  believe anti-communism was his primary motivation. He was anti-Russian every bit as much as Anti-communist. His family had a Ukrainian RIte Catholic branch and a Ukrainian Orthodox  Branchand according to him, both sides had been persecuted horribly by Russian backed political figures and thugs and the Russian Orthodox  Church.  I was rather an admirer of Russian art and culture. It was not easy to hear what he said then. But today it seems more meaningful.  

On April 17, 2024 my brother with Prader-Wili Syndrome  was admitted to a  Behavioral Medicine Clinic. I feel sad about that and I remember the year and half during the COVID-19 pandemic health and labor crisis when I worked as his caregiver. It made a lot of difference to me, to see him as a member of a health club with a pool. Itmeant something to me to see him going to museums, visiting parks and historical sites and doing things like art class. But this is a different time. Of course on Holy Thursday he did have his feet washed at church and that was very cool. I look at his life and mine and I think of all that is changeable over the course of my life.      

April 16, 2024 was a day to try to make the best of some good things in the world we live in and the lives we lead in it. It was a day to hear that my mother and my brother who was born with Prader-WIli Syndrome were having a problem that was going to involve the police. I was also very busy at some levels and yet between two insurance training meetings online, cooking two meals with enough leftovers to share for at least a few days. I think of SImon’s mutation and its consequences as do the Fabry mutations of my nephews, the spina bifida issues of my aunt,   the mosaic Fabry of my father, the cystic fibrosis of my niece, the varied freakish conditions that my grandmother concealed from all but a very few. It is through the lens of my own family experience that I see some of the experiences in this memoir that are hardest to process and believe. I am pretty sure that I also am different than other people. We are all different. Clara and I watched X-Men First Class on April 16. Movies about mutants with special powers would not be as popular as they are. People are aware that there are secret differences between their won inner lives and the world around them. I believe that is the human condition, But I also believe that I am more different than most.    

On April 15, 2024 it was tax day in the United States of America. My wife Clara is an inactive CPA and the former comptroller of a large law enforcement institution. We filed our tax returns  early and got our refunds, that was great.Today my mother treated Clara and I , her new companion Donald and her brother Bruce’s widow out for dinner at Richard’s Seafood Patio. It is an old association or connection for each of us to our past to eat there. It was the first time Doanld and Ihad ever really conversed, although I think we had spoken before. My mother had a large bruise on her face which she covered in makeup. She said she fell and hit her face on the floor. I know she has had a number of falls and injuries. I hope that she is simply falling, because although that is upsetting, most other possible causes are more upsetting. She paid with the proceeds of the only  oil and gas check she ever gets, we all ate for about as much money as the Social Security awards for a death benefit on a fully vested person. I wonder how much we paid for a month of room and board ( we did get most of our board there) at the house across the street from IDEAL. I very much doubt that it cost the four of us more than the figure on the tab for dinner tonight. Much of that  financial contrast is related to the inflation of the US currency over the years. However, a great deal of the difference is also attributable to the fact that Mom had a lot more money on this recent Monday evening than she would have had in any account under her name at the time we were in Cuernavaca in 1977 or 1978. Times and circumstances change. They change in both big and small ways and both very quickly and gradually over time. We are all living in a series of changes that distance each of  us from the events that we remember.   In my current project I am trying to communicate to a theoretical reader the memories and remembered events that seem alien even to me.   

One day in Cuernavaca, we were in a more or less optimistic  mood as a small family processing the news that the church authorities had agreed it would be good for us to work with a recognized lay evangelist, WIll Rodriguez. This long commissioned lay evangelist would help facilitate us starting a family base of ministry. Mom and Dad were eager to speak in terms of “we” including me in those days. It was always important to them that I was buying in and they were not responsible for missing out on my education. They coached me to say that I was homeschooled when it suited them,  they said “The Lord is educating our son”  when that suited them. Each of these  presentations of my situation was a part of the truth.

Another part of the truth was that (although there had been no other people under age in the classes at IDEAL) I had been involved in school related activities about 11 hours a day, not counting the pottery class I took and other enrichment activities. It was the most intense educational experience in an institution that I had ever known. I made very good progress and a whole new world was opening up before me. This was a world of speaking Spanish, eating and understanding a breath of Mexican cuisine and being able to converse about the arts and crafts of Mexico.   I could see from my rich educational experience in a real school that had just ended, that in practice my parents  were still providing real opportunities for my education. However, I knew that I was not likely to be happy in school. I knew my parents resented me in a way that most parents did not, but I knew they loved me too. I also knew that parents around the world sold their children into slavery, killed them, pimped them out and beat or crippled them to make them beggars. People avoided pregnancy, had abortions, committed infanticide, abandoned their infants and placed children up for adoption and into the foster care system. It was known to me that regents had killed the heirs apparent they were to guard in wealthy dynasties.  I also knew that families starved their children to death in slums because they felt too powerless to act on their behalf any longer. I was not one who compared my parents and their behavior only to the television fare of the 1950s or the family comedies that were to follow.They were not necessarily better or worse than the parents in Ozzie and Harriet, Father Knows Best, The Brady Bunch, The Partridge Family  or even the more complex and exotic portrayals in films such as The Sound of Music or It’s A Wonderful Life. I saw my parents as I saw lots of other parents, it was my primary objective to maximize the good they could do for me and themselves and minimize the harm. I was also very much inclined to believe they would do a lot of good and create a lot of opportunities for good for all of us if they did not get all or some of us killed. But I did worry that they did not see the risks I saw, at least they did not see them at all in the same way. I already had a sense at the age of 13 that cataclysms swept over huge numbers of people on rare occasions. Wars, plagues, depressions and natural disasters hit millions unexpectedly. Many of these people did not seem to process whatever the horrors and dangers of their daily lives and the daily lives of their society might be. For many people  when they were caught up in a once in a lifetime tragedy, life seemed something like a fabric of  good and definitely reasonably normal circumstances,  so when very bad things happened to their whole society and environment it was almost incomprehensible. There were others who were prophets in the wilderness, survivalists, hermits, recluses and perpetual fugitives – for these kinds of people the world was always dangerously and tragically flawed and often evil. A third kind of people were adventurers who flirted repeatedly with dangers of all kinds. I saw in our family an unusual mix of all three perspectives on how the outside world interacted with our family.

But whatever we did expect on that January morning in Cuernavaca we did not expect the news that would come about my uncle Jed when we were only a very long day’s journey away if we really tried to return to Louisiana for a family emergency. We felt in  Tonga that we could not go home for crises in the extended  family. But we had not really considered ourselves to be far from home in central Mexico. That sense of distance  was about to change..   

I am 59 years old and getting closer and closer to the end of my life’s journey than the start of it by any reasonable  calculation. The probabilities of me living to 118 are very minute. According to some actuarial tables and life expectancy calculators I should live to just over 80 on the very course calculator of being a male U.S. resident who is currently 50 years old in 20224.  Life is uncertain, so is the time of death. But we can all pick some future date at which we are fairly certain that we will not be alive. To believe in an afterlife is still to know that whatever it is, it is not this life. Death remains a painful farewell, the dissolution of the bonds that make up the body that whatever else we are may animate. Just before we left Cuernavaca it seemed that death might be coming for my uncle Jed who had gone with us to Europe and lived with us in our London flat when school was not in session. At that time, Jed Gerard Gremillion was 23 or 24 years old. Jed was very much in the prime of his life and making great strides, his parents had both attended the university but not finished. His oldest sister and oldest brother had both attended and not finished a degree (Mom would later finish hers). But Jed had graduated from LSU and was enrolled in Loyola Law School. He had gone quickly through a challenging undergraduate curriculum and married a very appealing young woman who got her degree from Saint Mary’s Dominican College in New Orleans, where my wife Clara got her degree. 

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It turned out that I was never going to be able to sit back in the glow of secure success and reflect on all of my path through life. I have much to be grateful for but also a great deal of remembered pain to resolve. In this memoir, I will cross borders between many perceptions. In 1978 there were still many people in Mexico who believed an unidentified flying object that could not be readily explained  had caused a plane to crash in Zacatecas in 1974. On June 7, 1976 there had been a major earthquake in Mexico CIty; a 6.4 magnitude quake. It was still much talked about. The mess of details that  get turned over and twisted over the years are numerous indeed. Only those families who truly have a chronicler for each minute can avoid any confusion. We had a mix of publicity and obscurity over the years. There was so much change that I must struggle to sequence all my memories. 

When one adds to the complexity of the task and entire lack of interest in my own life it seems absurd to write a memoir. But there are no outcomes for the future which do not involve me  speculating as to the future as we live out the present in a world of change.       

On April 15, 2024 Donald Trump began his trial as to whether or not he committed campaign finance crimes when he had Michael Cohen pay porn star Stormy Daniel a large sum of money to keep silent about her sexual involvement with Donald Trump.  I was not sure if this trial would start before the election. It reminded me of the role that sex plays in politics. I think it is interesting to  consider who Stormy Daniels is: 

Stephanie A. Gregory Clifford (born Stephanie A. Gregory; March 17, 1979), known professionally as Stormy Daniels,[7][8] is an American pornographic film actress, director and former stripper. She has won many industry awards and is a member of the NightMoves Hall of Fame, AVN Hall of Fame and XRCO Hall of Fame. In 2009, a recruitment effort led her to consider challenging incumbent David Vitter in the 2010 Senate election in her native Louisiana.

Daniels became involved in a legal dispute with U.S. president Donald Trump in 2018. Trump’s attorney Michael Cohen paid $130,000 in hush money to silence her about an affair she says she had with Trump in 2006. Trump has denied the affair and accused her of lying. The trial against Donald Trump is set for April 15, 2024.

Early life

Daniels’s parents, Sheila and Bill Gregory, divorced about three or four years after she was born. She was then raised by her mother.[1][9]

She graduated from Scotlandville Magnet High School in Baton Rouge, Louisiana in 1997 and considered becoming a journalist.[1]

Daniels said she “came from an average, lower-income household… there [were] days without electricity”,[10] and she has described herself as coming from a “really bad neighborhood.”[1] During high school, Daniels had a job answering phones at a riding stable.[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stormy_Daniels (as of April 14, 2024 at 5:30 p.m. CDT)

Stormy Daniels is one example of many sexual partners of the powerful who have become involved in the machinations of power themselves. There are other sides to the questions of sex and power and its permutations.   

The love of brothers and sisters is something I have had time and opportunity to reflect upon. My sister Sarah was my only sibling in January of 1978. But what exact day that changed I  don’t know. My next sister Susanna Maria Summers was to be born on the 20th day of September 1978. That was the ninth month. She was to be conceived in a time when my mother’s love for her youngest brother ( her godchild)  was much on her mind. Sometime in January we were called to the school for a telephone call. We no longer attended as students but there were quite a number of students who did business at this school in various ways when they were transitioning out of the city to their next location. There were a number of other language schools in town. Teaching and learning conversational Spanish was a  sort of local industry. I felt the transition from a town much defined by learning and culture towards a neighborhood that was known for need in a vast city known for almost everything.  But that was not the pattern to take our attention that day as we woke in the Cuernavaca we were soon to leave. I was very much surprised when we were told there was a phone call waiting for us in the school and I went to answer it with Dad.  We went into the main  office and they were holding the line for us. I let Dad greet him first and instantly could see that all was not well. My Dad was asking questions about the health and status of my uncle Jed in the hospital. It was a difficult time but I did manage to get a few words back and forth with my mother’s oldest brother Bruce. “Please tell everyone we are praying!” I spoke with tears in my eyes and a trembling voice. Jed and I had traveled in the back seat of a Volvo across much of  Europe and    

I wrote the main draft of this chapter during the week starting on  April 14, 2024. That day was a Sunday which began with Clara and I having been to mass the previous evening. I made coffee, had cereal for breakfast and was devoted to doing a few other things when Clara woke and we visited a bit in front of the television and the Sunday morning news. Clara was using some of her professional skills to help some of her friends. She was very much prepared  for the task, her laptop and software had been updating and loading up since before we went to bed the night before. When she set about doing her work for them I started cutting, grass, weeding, cleaning equipment and fixing a gap in the fence. It was an ordinary day and a good one. We have had many good and ordinary days, considering that we have only had a little over a thousand days together as any kind of couple…       

We were looking forward to moving to the Colonias of Mexico City  for many reasons and had begun to actually prepare to leave Cuernavaca. It did not take long to prepare our little footloose family to leave some we would not have been in Cuernavaca many more days. The previous day I had walked to meet the man who had been my sometimes benefactor at a small park. There were two men there with him. He spoke of the history of the region; he seemed to trace both pre columbian indigenous and Spanish Imperial roots of the culture and people with some specificity. The two men spoke in Spanish and perhaps in Nahuat as well but I understood little.  Tried hard to understand. They anointed my hands and head with a strange oil. Then we said the Lord’s Prayer in Spanish that I knew only well enough to say slowly. The man said to me,mostly in English; “You told me the story of  your father anointing you and the healing you received. I know that you have been sick and perhaps this shall give you strength. However, I will tell you that I have asked them to anoint you because  I believe that it is your destiny to be anointed again and if that happens you may remember this place in peace and goodwill.” He then asked me to keep this a secret for a time and a season and I did. I went back to the house and early that evening  I  went to sleep and soon I was dreaming of the whole past day.  The next day would be a day of trial and I woke up sensing that there would be many trials ahead if I lived for whatever was to be  my destiny. I did, however, wonder if I would be living to adulthood. I had many reasons for worry that have not made an appearance in this memoir.   But at the start of the day that we went to the school to get the club I had put strange hopes, strange worries and other distractions out of my mind. 

MY Uncle Bruce’s call had to be communicated to my mother. Seha and I both wanted to go back to Abbeville. Surely we were at a break in things and this happened and the family needed prayer and support. Dad felt we should go on to the ministry in the Cuchilla del Tesoro. There was an emotional struggle and some tears but ultimately we did what most people would do and did not uproot the whole family because the mother’s married adult brother was ill, The thing that made it different was that we were so mobile and so rootless. We prayed and we believed in offering up suffering and we offered up our lonesomeness for Jed as a prayer for his healing. Jed made a remarkable recovery and would go on to have a healthy enough brain to graduate from Loyola Law  School having made Law Review – a great distinction, He is still working and making money was a  land man, although he left the practice of law. He and Susan are long divorced and married other people but both are people of faith who remember God caring for them at this time. 

It was the sacrifice of not being with Jed that defined our transition back to Mexico CIty, There were no dumps or extreme squalor in our neighborhood. Cuchilla had many stores, shops, small artisans and food carts. Schools and churches were around and could be crowded. I took classes at the church when they were open but neve enrolled in a school. Kids were on different schedules because many schools had an early platoon and a late platoon of students. That made it very hard to notice that I was not in school. It wa sin this context that I and the family began to settle into the big city for a while.