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Our Country - Our People - Our Stories ourusamagazine.com
FEATURES
Our Country, Our People, Our Stories
Winter 2012
6 The Real Story 20 Winter’s 29 Sic Parvis About What We Eat
A group that cares about the food we eat and where it comes from debunks the myths of industrial agriculture.
Cold
The days are shorter and the nights longer. It’s time to curl up with a snuggly blanket and take even longer naps.
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Is greatness an act, a belief, a way of life? Or is greatness a state of mind. Does it truly come from small beginnings?
12 Dry Land
30 United We
16 You Are the
“I wrote this commentary for my class at Wake Forest University. I think its important for people to know that the younger generation believes in America as much as the older generation.”
Stand
Farming may not be the choice for many of us today, but it sitll holds a sweet nostalgia for a certain few.
Light
Questioning your life and your abilities? You really are the light of the world.
Magna
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22 Portraits of
Americans at Work
From a hot dog stand owner to a skateboard instructor, a crosscountry exploration of the jobs we love.
36 Building an
Innovative Mousetrap The new age of American manufacturing, and the importance of education and technology.
48 Many Hands Make Light Work
An old adage, but still true, especially in this community.
52 Women
Making A Difference
38 Cab Ride
14 Photo Montage Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
25 Artistic Homage Angels Among US
28 Patriot Partners
35 Profile
Pointer Brand
41 I’m Just Sayin’
42 Don’t Worry The emerging field of positive psychology is bursting with new findings that suggest your actions can have a significant effect on your happiness and satisfaction with life.
5 Contributors 11
32 A Different Christmas Poem
“Great moments often catch us unawares...when some kind of spiritual light shines through the ordinary affairs of everyday life.” A beautiful, touching tribute.
Be Happy
4 Photographers
54 Short Nights
of the Shadow Catcher
The story of how one man’s epic obsession led to one of America’s greatest cultural treasures.
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Entrepreneurial women taking a chance, and following their passion. Featuring: Charlie Dog & Friends
DEPARTMENTS
Busy, busy, busy
44 My Hometown
Mail Order Cabbage
46 Back In The Day
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I
my notes
was thinking about all the things I wanted to say in appreciation for all who contributed to the winter issue, and all the appreciation I hold in my heart for you, our readers, for helping us enjoy another year. But the following seemed so appropriate going into the new year! Have a wonderful, blessed 2013!
Cover Photo -Walt Curlee http://www.waltcurleeart.com
A parable by someone unknown, but many thanks.
Back Cover - Phaedra Wilkinson www.pinterest.com/phaewilk
ne day a farmer’s donkey fell down O into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do.
Finally he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway, it just wasn’t worth it to retrieve the donkey. He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They each grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement, he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer looked down the well, and was astonished at what he saw. As every shovel of dirt hit his back, the donkey did something amazing – he would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer’s neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed, as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off.
The Moral:
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a stepping stone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.
Cher
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Cher Valentino, Editor Wendy Junker, Marketing Director CJ, Production Manager Debra Jennings, Text Editing Bubba, Director of Goodwill
Center Spread - Randy Erwin www.BuyAmericanChallenge.com P. 22-27 Caleb Ferguson www.calebferguson.com P. 14-15 Elise Marie Fallon
elisemariefallon.wix.com/photography
P. 19, 61 Elise Marie Fallon
elisemariefallon.wix.com/photography
P. 26 Amee Stauffer P. 29 Courtesy Shapeways.com P. 38 Caufield P. 44 Cher - My Woodstove P. 47 Phaedra Wilkinson http://pinterest.com/phaewilk P. 48 Melanie Kern-Favilla http://bitly.com/SX1fOg P. 50 Cindy Cornett Seigle www.flickr.com/photos/cindy47452 P. 53 Mary R. Vogt http://maryrvogt.com/ P. 54-59 Edward S. Curtis February 16, 1868 –October 19,1952 A photographer of the American West and of Native American peoples.
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Winter ‘12 Copyright © 2013
All rights reserved. Reproduction in any manner, in whole or part is prohibited.
A Shout Out to our Contributors Walt Curlee We are proud to have as our cover Small Town Winter Landscape by Walt Curlee.
“I invite you take a stroll into my Rural Americana series paintings, to a slower time when life was simpler. A timeless world of rolling hills, patchwork farms; where you can almost smell the fresh air and hear the sounds of nature. I strive to create an enchanting world with a nostalgic feel of good times past.” http://www.waltcurleeart.com
Amy Abbott Hoosier Amy McVay Abbott writes a bi-weekly column “The Raven Lunatic” for multiple Indiana newspapers, and is the author of a book of essays, “The Luxury of Daydreams” (available on Amazon.com.) Visit her web site at www.amyabbottwrites.com.
Anna Lappé Anna Lappé is a national bestselling author, educator, and a founding principal of the Small Planet Institute and Small Planet Fund. A graduate of Columbia University’s School of International and Public Affairs and Brown University, Anna’s research on sustainable agriculture has taken her from Brooklyn to places around the world. http://smallplanet.org
Leah Kuck Leah Kuck is a Junior at Wake Forest University, and works with Diamond Golf Shirts, a 100% American Shirt Maker. She is a Business major, with English and Studio Arts minors. She enjoys writing and reading, and is very involved with the Wake Forest Rowing Club. She would like to continue writing, and will eventually pursue a career in Advertising and Public Relations.
David Keith Morris David Keith Morris Jr. is December graduate of Trevecca Nazarene University in Nashville, TN. He will attain a degree in Criminal Justice and Behavioral Science. David is a four year former college basketball player, newly converted Mormon, passionate writer, and true believer of freedom and liberty for all individuals. He plans to attend graduate school next fall and dedicate his life to humanitarianism.
Kent Nerburn Kent Nerburn is an author and sculptor, a husband, grandfather and long-time advocate for Native Americans. He penned his essay as part of an extended meditation on St. Francis of Assisi’s famous prayer, which includes “Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. Where there is sadness, joy.” Kent and his wife, Louise Mengelkoch, a retired journalism teacher, now live a quiet life on a lake in northern Minnesota. www.kentnerburn.com Our USA Magazine
TheAbout Real Story What We Eat By Anna LappĂŠ
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John Moulton Barn on Mormon Row at the base of the Tetons. Photographer: Jon Sullivan
This is a building that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places in the United States.
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Myth #1 We need industrial agriculture to feed the world.
T
he world’s population keeps growing. By 2050, we’ll have to double food production. For that, we’ll need genetic engineering, advanced pesticides and fertilizer – lots of fertilizer. That’s why we’re working every day, hand-in-hand with farmers and their families.
Hold on. Messages like this one seem to be popping up everywhere. But who’s really behind them? Turns out it’s the corporations
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profiting from this way of farming – like those selling pesticides, fertilizers and chemicals. They’re spending billions to warn us that their way is the only way, with industry groups like the Alliance to Feed the Future, whose members include the Association for Dressings and Sauces and The National Frozen Pizza Institute. But ask farmers who really know how to feed us and you’ll get a very different story – a heartbreaking and hopeful story that I’ve heard talking to hundreds of families. Fifty years of this myth – and lobbying dollars to support it – have tilted the playing field to favor corporate-controlled, chemical agriculture, giving farmers little or no support for any other path.
So it’s easy to understand a lot of farmers feel it’s either “get on board or get out.” “Getting on board,” means farmers stop practices that keep soil healthy and go for single crops. Livestock that used to be raised on the farm get crammed into polluting factories. Then, on the other side, when farmers try to sell their crops, they face only a few big buyers offering unpredictable prices. The economics don’t work for long. Over the last 50 years, millions of desperate farmers have had to sign contracts with corporations that dictate their every move or have lost their farms altogether. More and more, farm income is concentrating at the top, so now only one in ten U.S. farms can support a family.
In many other countries, a similar thing is happening. Small farmers who buy into the promise that corporate agriculture is the solution often get trapped by debt and dependency.
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So yes, corporate agriculture is good for some folks – including some of the largest growers – but not the typical farm family. And that’s strike one for this myth. But we have to feed the world, right? If not this way, what choice do we have? A great one. We just don’t see ads for it and it certainly isn’t getting the subsidies going to corporate ag. State-of-the-art sustainable farming ends this unnatural chemical addiction. It uses better practices, not ever-more expensive purchases. Sustainable farmers build healthy soil by planting a variety of crops and rotating them. They raise their animals on the farm, not in cramped factories. They fertilize using compost and livestock or planting soil-nourishing crops. Healthier plants with good crop rotation also help keep pests in check without hurting the bugs we need – like those all-important pollinators. And how does this choice impact everyone else? Massively. Industrial farms degrade and erode precious topsoil – 64 tons per acre are being lost every year in some spots in our heartland. They suck up huge amounts of water – a lot of it from deep underground – essentially irreplaceable. And they use millions of pounds of antibiotics – a practice that leads to dangerous new bacteria.
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They also produce toxic run-off that pollutes our rivers, our oceans and us! The average American already has at least 13 pesticides in their bodies. And thanks to chemicals in the field, farmers and farm-workers have higher rates of many cancers.
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chemical path not only can’t work for farmers; it won’t be a choice at all. Corporate agriculture doesn’t reliably grow more food in the future – or even today. And that’s strike two for this myth.
So the sustainable farm is better for farmers and the environment, but can it really feed the world?
But we still haven’t looked at the biggest hole of all. They say we need to double food production or we’ll go hungry. Really?
Study after study is saying yes! Sustainable farms produce as well... and in drought years even better. This is important news for small farmers who already grow 70 percent of the world’s food – to increase production they don’t have to follow the chemical path.
We already have almost 3,000 calories a day available for every human being on Earth – more than enough. And that’s after wasting a third of all food grown, and a lot of what is grown isn’t food we eat directly. A third of the world’s grain is going to livestock.
And the future we’re all talking about feeding? The industrial farm requires more fossil fuels, water, and mined minerals – all stuff that will only get more expensive as it runs out. So down the line, the
In the U.S. our biggest crop is corn, but less than one percent of all corn planted is what we eat. Most goes to fuel or feed. Staying on this track, we could increase production and still have more hunger. To end it,
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everybody has to have the power to buy or grow the food they need. And that’s what sustainable farming is all about. Strike three for this dangerous myth. So the next time someone who makes frozen pizza – or toxic pesticides – tells you there’s only one way to feed the future, tell them their story is full of holes. The evidence is clear: sustainable farmers prove we all can enjoy healthy food – and we each have power to make this happen. We can redirect our own food dollars and the billions in public money now going into the pockets of Big Ag. We can stand up and speak out for sustainable farmers here and around the world.
A Shout Out to Our Contributors Tama J. Kieves Tama Kieves is the best-selling author of “This Time I Dance! Creating the Work You Love!” and “Inspired & Unstoppable: Wildly Succeeding in Your Life’s Work!” As a sought after speaker and career coach, she has helped thousands worldwide to discover, launch and live the work and life of their dreams. Visit her at TamaKieves.com and sign up for her free “Inspired Success Launch You Kit” and free mojo-messages. And join her Facebook tribe!
Paula Hynes
Paula Hynes is the Communications Coordinator for The Rodon Group, one of the largest family-owned and operated plastic injection molders in the United States. Ms. Hynes specializes in blogging about trends in American Manufacturing and the plastic industry. She is a writer and social media professional promoting the benefits of buying American Made Products. To learn more about The Rodon Group, visit www.rodongroup.com
Larry W. Fish Larry was born and raised in the beautiful Pocono Mountains of northeastern Pennsylvania. In 2004 he moved to North Carolina with his wife, Lina. He enjoys writing short stories of his youth, politics, nature, and scary fictional stories. Follow Larry on his blog, “Writing by Fish” www.lwfish62.blogspot.com
Kay Thomas
Kay Thomas has lived in the rural Finger Lakes hills of Western New York for many years. After a successful teaching career, she is pursuing opportunities in freelance writing. Her first book, “AND ONE MORE THING: I Brake for Squirrels and Other Thoughts I Have No Doubt About” is based on her bi-weekly social commentary column in the Livingston County News, Geneseo, NY. www. thelcn.com
Shelly Gail Morris Shelly Gail Morris is “everybody’s girlfriend.” A southern girl, Shelly was born in Atlanta, GA and now resides in good, old Nashville, TN. She has been married for 26 years and has two boys and two dogs. She enjoys writing about strong women pursuing their dreams and following their hearts. Her new book, “Mae’s Open Arms,” is available now from Oak Tara Publishing. www.ShellyGailMorris.com
Dennis L. Page
I’m an extrovert, conversationalist, news junky, writer, and gardener, preparer of all home meals, truth seeker, husband, father and grandfather. My first writing course was in the early 1970s when I learned to write as I speak and to express myself in the vernacular. I currently reside in the southern tier of New York state on the Pennsylvania border. pagesvoice.wordpress.com Our USA Magazine 11
Dry Land I
come from farmers. My parents grew up on a farm, their respective parents grew up on a farm, and their respective parents grew up on a farm. In my mother’s family, eight generations owned the same acreage from 1830 until 2010. My generation did not want to farm the land adjacent to Sugar Creek. Things get complicated in a nomadic society, but the die was cast a generation ago when none of the six grandchildren expressed any interest in the farm in Indiana or another one in Ohio. For me, I always regretted the family business was not the county’s daily newspaper where I worked
as a young adult and still write a column.
To paraphrase an old saying, if wishes were horses, I would ride. I had no interest in farming, though I cherish the relics of that life left to me by my maternal grandmother. She also left me an unending curiosity about those who came before me. Managing a farm from a distance is a Herculean task that my father handled well. He was the last family member to manage the farm after many generations. Though the farm came to his generation through his wife – my mother – he was responsible for the business decisions after
By Amy McVay Abbott
my grandmother’s death. He knew, every acre, every ditch, every tile, every tree. It was personal to Dad, like an old friend. I appreciate my farm background; the drought of 2012 has me reflecting about what the legacy means to me. As recalled in this difficult year, farmers are survivors. When my great-great-great-grandfather Reuben Long (and grandfather to the young mother in the photo below) drove in an oxen cart with his brother David from Pennsylvania to Tunker, Indiana, in the 1830s, he found rocky pastures and dense woods. Most of the native American
Anna Long Hoard and Kellis Hoard (couple at right) with their children Zoe and Mae, out for a Sunday drive around 1904 in Whitley County, Indiana. 12
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population had moved south or west in the decades before, but it was still a wild land. Somehow the two brothers managed to survive with what they brought with them and what they could create. Each subsequent generation of my family experienced the challenges of wind and weather, devastatingly dry summers and long, cold winters that never seemed to end. In 1934, in a summer much like this past one, my mother’s family nearly lost their farm, and my father’s family did lose their farm. Right - My mother Marilyn Enz McVay about 1940 at the family farmhouse in Whitley County, Indiana.
Today family farming on this smaller scale is no longer as it once was; agriculture is far less a part of our economy than it was a hundred years ago when Anna and Henry took the buggy out for a Sunday ride. Farming has gone the way of many businesses, an “outsourcing” to the large corporate farms who can afford a combine that costs six figures. For millions – like my family who treasure the legacy of small farms – what remains is a healthy fear of nature and a respect for the stewardship of those who build communities and villages throughout our country, one plow at a time. Below - Author and brother Andrew at family farm about 1963.
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Sby topping W oods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
14 All Photos by Elise Fallon 14
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Ice Cube Branch
Melting
First Snow of the Season
Looking Up Our USA Magazine 15
T
he wisdom tradition of A Course in Miracles teaches us, “I am the light of the world. That is my only function. That is why I am here.” When I first read that line part of me stood at attention as though its true name had been called through a fog and cobweb of centuries. The other part of me felt screwed. At the time, I looked around at my life of half-written manifestos, unused yoga videos, and abrupt tectonic shifts of doubt and fear, and thought humanity could definitely benefit from a more reliable guide. But I have come to see that limitation is spirit calling my name. Limitation puts pins in my sofa and lumps in my pillow so that I do not fall asleep in my life. Limitation calls me to seek for strength, focus, achievement, and liberating powers I did not know I had. And, in the end, limitation gifts me with a oneof-a-kind credential in this world. It’s because as I come to experience freedom in the midst of defeated circumstances, I become a hope and light to others. We, who are questioning our lives and our abilities, are the light of the world. We will be a beacon of comfort, hope, and direction to those who need us. We are in the soup, but it is healing broth. We are the ones who are learning to find joy and full expression in the midst of bruised conditions. Every spiritual tradition teaches us that freedom is not being liberated once the job comes through, the check comes in or the skinny jeans fit. Freedom is learning how to be at peace no matter what, no matter when. Our world is changing. The old ways are falling apart. Some talk about being in a revolutionary 16
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evolution of consciousness. We are the ones. We are the ones who are discovering our sacred resources and responses and bringing them to the table. We are the ones who write poems or sing praises to the divine, even as the stock market crumbles. Our dark days and stumbles are our training grounds. We are learning how to recognize a magnitude that is never threatened or taken away. We are discovering the river of faith in the dryness of our desert. We are the ones. We may not get it right every single day, or even for weeks on end, but we are the ones.
Your pain is your relentless guru. How do you gain instruction from the sting? How do you resist the urge to curse it, deny it, or lie down in a ball for a thousand years? How do you love yourself? How do you forgive yourself? How do you sit down right now and trust the perfection of where you are? This is the juncture of your freedom. This life is not about just sweeping the kitchen one more time, or sending in a resume. It’s about feeding the wild blue bird in your heart on berries not of this world. It’s about feeding the wild blue bird so that it flies free no matter what.
I do not wish you pain or suffering. But I know that pain will cause you to seek freedom and freedom will teach you who you are and why you’re here. You are the light of the world, and you have love, talent, and healing to offer us. Because of the sand, the oyster yields the pearl. Peacocks grow their signature colorful feathers by eating thorns. “What is to give light, must endure burning,” wrote Viktor Frankl, who taught about how he found liberation, through mental focus, in the harshest hours of living in a concentration camp. And Buddhist nun Pema Chodron says, “Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.” You are the light of the world. And it’s pain that reminds you, like a ferocious drill sergeant, to abandon your useless definitions of security, and penetrate the limitless grace within you. We may not have easy lives at this time. But it’s not because we’re failing, falling, or inadequate. It’s because our souls demand healing more than coping, soaring more than just reaching cruising altitude. We are the teachers, healers, visionaries, social entrepreneurs, and architects of the coming bright times. We are the sensitive ones, the canary in the mines. We have never truly been fit for this world. That’s why we are the ones who will change it. We will change it with our compassion. We will change it with our twigs of peace. We will change it by sitting in our dark corners until the pain passes and transmutes into new energy that can sustain the rest of our lives – and we have a new stronghold to offer our brothers and sisters.
You Are The
Light
By Tama J. Kieves
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We will turn darkness into hope, as humanity has always done. We will prove that pain passes and leaves strong alchemy in its wake. We will run a new mile, inspire new actions, bring clean water to the needy, or paint images of wonder and faith. We will find our unique way to channel inexhaustible strength to hungry conditions. We will bring the new into the world by expanding our minds, communing with our creativity, and opening our boundless hearts. We are in the study halls now. Many of us are getting ready for our certifications.
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We are the light of the world. We are the ones who have mercy for others. We are the ones who lend a hand. We are the ones who share a bit of writing, a dance, a reiki session, a vibrant expression filled with courage and forgiveness. We are the ones who question limitation and habits and demonstrate the raw and formidable power of love and alignment with our source. We are the ones who believe there is enough here to work with and we are about the business of working with it. Jesus walked on water. We may be doing something far more electrifying in these times. We are walking in this world.
Ever felt an angel’s
breath in the gentle breeze? A teardrop in the falling rain? Hear a whisper amongst the rustle of leaves? Or been kissed by a lone snowflake? Nature is an angel’s favorite hiding place.
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~Terri Guillemets Photo- Elise Fallon
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T
he time of warm days and the smell of freshly mowed lawns are over. The vegetable garden has been tilled, and now we wait during the long, cold months of winter. At 5:30 A.M. the other day I was walking my West Highland white terrier in the backyard and I felt a lap of cold air wash across my face and down my jacket into the crevasse of my back. I shivered with the rude awakening of an early winter and yet “Nanook of the North” (i.e., Dexter) stood there, nose pointed to the sky, sniffing and then rolling in the iced crystal leaves, as if to say, “Accept it dad... winter is on the way.”
months and it adversely affects him as well. Gone are the leisurely strolls in the back field or the endless hours lounging on the patio or just sitting in front of the glass door happily receiving the radiation heating of a strong sun. Dexter will also miss his joy of endlessly hunting for those ever elusive moles and chipmunks that are always mere inches from his grasp. Yes, the game is over for the season. It’s too hard to catch vermin when there is a foot or more of snow on the ground.
My boy is fully aware how much I loathe being cold. He also knows that the days are shorter and the nights longer. It’s time to curl up on the blanket and take even longer naps than before.
Dexter is my best friend and buddy. I swear he knows what I’m thinking and feeling. He is inside my head and yet I can’t tell what is troubling him but he astutely knows what troubles me. Dexter is fully aware of my distaste for the upcoming
Winter’s Cold By Dennis Page
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One would think we would all feel more rested during these next few months, but alas we only feel more tired and sluggish. On a positive note, my dear little guy is growing old with me. We are inseparable. Dexter was so tiny when I rescued him at the ripe old age of six months. His big black eyes looked ever so lovingly into mine as I held him on my lap and promised he was going to have the best life he could ever imagine. Ten years later and it is I who has been blessed with him. So how do we spend the long months of winter? For Dexter it means he gets to eat more pizza (his favorite food). He also loves it when I make batches of 75 or more meatballs, knowing all too well there are a few with his name on
them. We run like children up and down the hallway, although, I must admit, neither of us are as fast as we used to be. Occasionally I’ll put on a television show with animals so my boy can bark and jump at the picture. Most importantly, we merely feel the warmth of love between a man and his dog. Winters where I live are long and the snowfall totals are high. By February we are all fairly tired of the monotony of shoveling and snow blowing. Dexter however, will make a path through the deep, pure white snow as if he were a St. Bernard looking to rescue someone buried. This little spitfire of a dog will extend his retractable leash to the limit, sniffing, burying his head in the snow drifts, and then he will just lift his big white head into the sky as he breathes in the purity of winter’s air. Meanwhile, as I stand
there shivering from head to toe, I will continue my efforts to coax him back into the warmth of our home. So, as the winter brings in those horrendously cold and snowy northwest winds and below freezing temperatures, Dexter and I will simply have to sit a tad close or snuggle a little longer. Life is good...even if the weather isn’t always so pleasant. One thing is certain. My little guy never judges me. He doesn’t care if the house was vacuumed, dishes washed or clothes folded and put away. Nor is he scowling at me for gaining a few extra pounds. For you see, when you are lucky enough to have a dog like Dexter, then you will also be fortunate enough to know the true meaning of unconditional love. After all, love makes the world go around, and it also melts the coldest of hearts.
Photo - Amee Stauffer Our USA Magazine 21
Name: Nicole Eiden Age: 35 Location: New Orleans, LA Occupation: Baker, Windowsill Pies - 1 year
14 Name:Sam Sam Oh Oh Age: 65 Name: Age: 65 Location: San Francisco, CA Location: San Francisco, CA Occupation: Cobbler - 30 years Occupation: Cobbler - 30 years
Name: David Kraft Age: 42 Location: Louisville, Kentucky Occupation: Florist/Owner - 37 years “The business has been in the family for 162 years and I started at such a young age because we didn’t have babysitters. So we worked. Since going into business with my brothers, we’ve all become best friends.”
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Portraits of Americans at Work
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n the summer of 2012, photographer Caleb Ferguson traveled from coast to coast, documenting Americans in their diverse places of work.
Name: Antonio Fernandez Age: 48 Location: New York, New York Occupation: Musician - 40 years
Caleb Ferguson is a freelance photographer working in NYC. His work has appeared in the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, the Herald Tribune, the Village Voice, and Newsday. This photo essay was originally published by the Global Oneness Project and is reposted here with permission.
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Name: Dennis Sigur Age: 60 Location: New Orleans, Louisiana Occupation: Barber - 41 years Our USA Magazine 23
Name: V. Lamont Duncan Age: 87 Location: South Cairo, New York Occupation: Hay Farmer - entire life “For a young person today it is impossible to get started as a farmer. The overhead costs are too high and there is not enough profit. My advice is to marry a farmer’s daughter.”
Name: Charlie Guzman Age: 28 Location: Oakland, California Occupation: Truck Driver - 7 years “When college became too expensive I stopped going and followed in my dad’s footsteps. Now I drive during the day and go to college at night.”
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Name: Aida Melendez Age: 60 Location: New York, New York Occupation: Resident Watch at Abraham Lincoln Houses, Harlem -8 months / Retired
Portrats of Americans at Work Name: John Black Feather Age: 76 Location: Pine Ridge, South Dakota Occupation: Buffalo Rancher 7 years / Retired John is retired but wanted to continue his father’s legacy of raising buffalo on the Pine Ridge Reservation.
Name: James King Age: 57 Location: New Orleans, Louisiana Occupation: Tire Repair - 15 years James also works as a gospel musician. He works at the tire garage part-time.
Name: Gudmar Petursson Age: 33 Location: Louisville, Kentucky Occupation: Trainer of Icelandic Horses - 19 Years “I’ve been riding horses since I was 6 years old. Someone once told me to get a job you really like and you never have to go to work again.”
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Name: Susan Hoff Age: 28 Location: San Francisco, California Occupation: Bag Designer - 3 years After graduating from art school, Susan became a sailing instructor in Maine. One day she just put two and two together and decided to create handmade bags out of reclaimed sail material.
Name: Cynthia Rhodes Age: 55 Location: Germantown, New York Occupation: Hot Dog Stand Owner - 15 years “I love my job. I’m outside, listening to music, and waving to people.”
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Name: James Walton Age: 37 Location: Louisville, KY Occupation: Skateboard Instructor - goskate.com 1 year “I’m not only teaching kids a skill, but I’m also keeping them off the streets and out of trouble.”
Name: Brett Walker Age: 30 Location: San Francisco, CA Occupation: Barista - 12 years “I was 18 and needed a job. I’ve been doing coffee ever since.”
Portrats of Americans at Work
Name: Tiffany Cocco Age: 25 Location: New York, New York Occupation: Volunteer Youth Homeless Advocate - 2 years
Name: Debbie Clickman Age: 53 Location: Catskill, New York Occupation: Volunteer Chef at Camp Grace Soup Kitchen - 6 months “I find it rewarding to help people. 65% of the population in Greene County, New York receives government assistance.” Our USA Magazine 27
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Sic P arvis
Photo - Shapeways.com
Magna By David Keith Morris, Jr.
H
ow does one define “greatness?” What does it mean to be great, and achieve greatness? Is greatness an act, a belief, a way of life? Or is greatness a state of mind? Perhaps greatness is a combination of everything, a cluster of thoughts, actions and occurrences. We were created to thrive, to live, to be free and be individuals with personal liberties and opinions. Greatness is a mother feeding her children, a soldier defending our country, a businessman who funds a charity for the homeless, a college student who drives his friends who don’t have transportation, a teacher who struggles to enlighten her students. It is a grandmother who keeps her family close. Greatness is all of these things and more. Greatness is all hardworking Americans. Greatness is doing anything you can to spread peace, joy, compassion, honesty and humility to your fellow man. Greatness is being responsible for your own life. Not relying on the entitlements and actions of our government, but relying on your own creative individual abilities to make a wonderful life for yourself, by the grace of God and by the laws and rights of our amazing constitution. The triumph of landing a job, the pride in providing for one’s family, and the taste of success is sweet. The quest and pursuit of greatness is what drives the human spirit. In the United State of America we are not promised happiness, not promised fairness, not promised prosperity. In the USA we don’t live in a caste system that determines one’s life outcomes. In the USA we’re promised the ability to create our own destiny; the ability to seek our own prosperity, to create our own opportunity, and discover and achieve our own success and accept the consequences of our own actions. What a gift! What America needs is freedom and liberty. It is as simple as that. Overbearing laws and governments limit our freedom. Period. Greatness is American, from its citizens to its founding documents. We bleed greatness and must always defend what is great about our citizens, customs, traditions and mindsets. As Americans we have stood tall in a world filled with chaos as a beacon of Godliness, hope, love, life, freedom, order, liberty, success, happiness, democracy, and most of all—greatness. Greatness is in all of us. We are born with it; born with the desire to be the best. By faith in our Lord’s plan, and from our loved ones, and by the motivation in our hearts, we can and will restore this nation to greatness. Knowledge is power. Power is freedom. Freedom is liberty. Liberty is individuality, and individuality is greatness—greatness from humble and small beginnings. I believe in the United States of America. “Sic Parvis Magna.” Greatness from humble beginnings. Our USA Magazine 29
United We Stand For T
he “Made in America” movement, at its core, is not about unemployment or trade deficits. It’s about supporting the land that we love, and our fellow countrymen. It is about individuals and companies making the choice to support their local economy, about employing our neighbors, and a matter of national pride. Americans need to show their support of American businesses, not tell it. It didn’t start with ABC, or with the outrage over the Team USA Olympic uniforms. It didn’t start with September 11, 2001. It started when a group of people got together and decided that 13 colonies should no longer belong to Britain. When the founding fathers declared independence, they didn’t demand that a 30
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governing body push money at the problem or create trade barriers. And neither should the supporters of the “Made in America” movement. While I believe the “Made in America” movement has a political agenda, and there are those working in Congress to support American companies, I also believe that true progress will, and must, be made by consumers. The government can tax imports, create more stringent regulation, or subsidize American-made products, but it really comes down to the individuals who are making purchasing decisions. Our actions speak louder than words, and I believe that the best way to facilitate change is to change yourself first.
By Leah Kuck
Bloggers and enthusiasts like to throw out this statistic: “If every American spent one dollar a day on American-made products, it would lead to the creation of 1 million jobs.” While from an unverified source, whether it’s 1 million, 1.2 million, or a random number someone made up, logically, it makes sense. A larger amount of American goods purchased means that companies need to hire more workers. Not only would this solve the surface issues with imported goods (unemployment and trade deficit) but it would also improve the standard of living in cities, stimulate economic growth, and strengthen our country as a whole. Putting the decision into the hands of the consumer gives them choice,
something that Americans value. Educating them about the benefits of American-made products, and convincing consumers that the label “Made in the U.S.A.” means something important is the best way to approach a solution. Education and awareness allow people to demonstrate their patriotism and feel proud to support America, rather than feel obligated. Many people do not believe in this approach. They do not believe that individual consumers are powerful enough. They believe that in order to really gain ground Congress must pass tariffs on imported goods or lower taxes. They believe that it is up to the government to create jobs. Re-employ America, one of the many websites linked to the “Made in America” movement, provides prewritten letters to your congressmen about supporting American companies. Not only are these letters harsh and slightly insulting, they are also ineffective. Asking a congressman for tax cuts to increase spendable income does not guarantee that the money saved will be spent on American goods. Demanding that congress lower the $42 billion trade deficit will not make it happen. Going back to the “dollar a day” idea, if every individual in the USA participated, 300 million dollars would go back into the economy – every day.
This idea is not lost on politicians. In a recent address to Congress, President Obama stated, “This task, of making America more competitive for the long haul, is a job for all of us. For government and for private companies. For states and for local communities – and for every American citizen. All of us will have to up our game. All of
us will have to change the way we do business.” Political affiliation aside, his point is that no matter what, we cannot rely on the government to make jobs, to support our companies, or solve the trade deficit problem. It is up to us, as consumers, and as patriots. A government is only as strong as the people supporting it. This idea
has been prevalent in American politics and patriotism since the beginning of the country, and resonates with the “Made in America” movement. We must be willing to stand behind our countrymen and support them, so that they can support us. As an individual, my dollar spent is insignificant. But in a like-minded community, every extra dollar towards American products begins to be a significant amount. If each one of us can purchase another dollar’s worth of Americanmade products a day, we can change the world. But we must have the resolve to fight our own battles and not ask the government to fight them for us Tough Traveler Ltd. is located in upstate NY, where they have been manufacturing quality luggage, backpacks, baby/child carriers, and many other products, for over 40 years. Since their beginning in 1970, they have remained a privately-owned company with a commitment to making products in America. Every bag is made by a staff of skilled crafts-people in a sweat-shop-free environment. Tough Traveler employs the highest standards for design and durability. Their bags are known worldwide for their attractiveness and superb workmanship. Our USA Patriot Partner
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A Different Christmas T Poem he embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me, angelic in rest. Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter delight. The sparkling lights in the tree I believe, Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep. In perfect contentment, or so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
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The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near, But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow. My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, And I crept to the door just to see who was near. Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old, Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child. “What are you doing?” I asked without fear, “Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here! Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve, You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!” For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift, Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts. To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light Then he sighed and he said “Its really all right, I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night. It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line, That separates you from the darkest of times.
Photo - Iwo Jima - Randy Erwin 32
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“No one had to ask or beg or implore me, I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me. My Gramps died at ‘ Pearl on a day in December,” Then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers. My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘ Nam ‘, And now it is my turn and so, here I am. “I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while, But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.” Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag, The red, white, and blue... an American flag. “I can live through the cold and the being alone, Away from my family, my house and my home.” “ I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet, I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat. I can carry the weight of killing another, Or lay down my life with my sister and brother, Who stand at the front against any and all, To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.” “So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright, Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.” But isn’t there something I can do, at the least, Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast? It seems all too little for all that you’ve done, For being away from your wife and your son.” Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, “Just tell us you love us, and never forget. To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone, To stand your own watch, no matter how long. For when we come home, either standing or dead, To know you remember we fought and we bled. Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN 30th Naval Construction Regiment OIC, Logistics Cell One Al Taqqadum, Iraq
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he L. C. King Manufacturing Company in Bristol, Tennessee, makers of Pointer Brand, will celebrate100 years of continuous operation in 2013. It’s now run by Jack King, the fourth generation in a family of entrepreneurs committed to American ingenuity and hard work.
what our customers want. With our Pointer Brand Special Make line, we are designing and crafting new products that are in demand from Japan to New York City. We do
The company is one of the rare American businesses left today with this kind of heritage. Pointer Brand Overalls are the product that connects our past with our present, something we’ve been making from the get-go. Our customers around the rural south are some of our most loyal, and we hope to carry on that tradition for another hundred years. In the spirit of the American dream, L. C. King has grown with the times and makes things that are in demand today. That’s one of the things that has defined us recently – listening to
everything in our power to listen intently to every suggestion, every business opportunity, and every new fan’s opinion to make decisions about our future products. We believe we have the best customers in the world; they are truly what define us today, just as they did when Landon Clayton King created the factory in 1913. Beyond our heritage, the culture of L. C. King stands apart. The people who work here are dedicated and believe in what we do – and Jack believes
in them, just as his father did. It’s not just about being an American company alone, it’s about representing American workmanship and providing for families who are your neighbors. And it’s about American style, too. Designers from all over the world come to L. C. King to explore partnerships or just to experience what it’s like in our factory. The worn wood, the vintage sewing machines, the know how. It’s all here and it’s 100% authentic. Starting with the fabrics, zippers, buttons and thread, we do everything possible to keep it all in our country and contribute to American jobs. We believe in the spirit of American manufacturing, informed by our past and today changing with the times as the world outside wakes up to the kinds of things our great country can produce. You can find us in places from fashion boutiques in Hong Kong and Tokyo to co-op stores around the South. Shop at www.pointerbrand.com. Our USA Patriot Partner Our USA Magazine 35
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American Made Matters!
he goal of the mouse trap has remained the same – to catch a mouse – but the technology is much more complex. Today’s manufacturing processes make it easier, faster and cheaper to produce more sophisticated products, and products that have consistent quality and integrity. However, manufacturing plants don’t make products on their own. They require a highly trained work force to create molds, operate and maintain machinery, and monitor production. And, while our manufacturing processes have made great improvements our educational system has not. Over the past four decades, we have witnessed a decrease in the skill development needed to create a new “highly trained” manufacturing worker. High schools began to emphasize college preparation instead of job-related skill building. Along the way, secondary vocational education became less popular and school districts invested less in these programs as American manufacturing jobs continued to contract.
Enter the new age of American manufacturing In the past few years, we have seen a resurgence in American manufacturing. According to the Boston Consulting Group this trend will continue throughout the decade with many projects repatriated from China. “All over China, wages are climbing at 15 to 20 percent a year because of the supply and demand imbalance for skilled labor,” reports Harold L. Sirkin, a BCG senior partner. “We expect net labor costs for manufacturing in China and the U.S. to converge by around 2015. As a result of the changing economics 36
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you’re going to see a lot more products ‘Made in the USA’ in the next five years.”
This is good news for American workers Manufacturing jobs built the American economy. They tend to be higher paid because they require additional education and skills. These careers are often classified as STEM jobs (Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics) and are one of the largest growth sectors in our economy. Better skills, education and training, specifically in STEM careers, leads to higher wages, job satisfaction and security.
Here are some STEM employment facts • STEM jobs are projected to grow by 17% from 2008 to 2018. This compares to only 9.8% growth for non-STEM employment. • STEM workers make more money, on average 26% percent more than their non-STEM counterparts. • STEM workers are better educated; 66% have a college degree compared to 33% of their non-STEM counterparts. • STEM workers with less than a bachelor’s degree still enjoyed greater earnings (more than 30%) compared to non-STEM workers with the same education level. • Each manufacturing job supports as an average of 2.9 other jobs in the economy. • The average wages in U.S. high technology are 86 % higher than the average of other private sector wages.
How to build an Innovative Mousetrap
American manufacturing companies lead the nation in terms of innovation. Eight percent of U.S. companies are manufacturers, and they have a big impact on the economy. This category includes very innovative industries, such as pharmaceuticals, computer manufacturers and automotive-related companies. Innovation requires education. Without the needed coursework and training, many of the openings in STEM manufacturing jobs today are going unfilled. All across the country, skilled manufacturing workers are in great demand. A commitment to developing future generations of mouse-trap builders has become a priority of many educational institutions as well as employers. President Obama launched an “Educate to Innovate” campaign to increase the participation and performance in STEM education. This new initiative will enlist the help of leading companies, foundations, non-profits and engineering societies to work with our future manufacturing innovators. Many companies – including my company, The Rodon Group – have developed in-house apprenticeship programs. Students are given the opportunity to learn tool and die making in a handson environment. These future Industrial Technologists must have a strong background in math and science skills. Coursework in metal working and machining is also very desirable. From there, it’s up to the apprenticeship program to develop the manufacturing skills needed for tomorrow’s innovative production environment.
Building An Innovative Mousetrap By Paula Hynes
The Importance of Education and Technology
To find out more about The Rodon Group or read their Made In America blog, please visit their website at www.rodongroup.com. WPA Arts Project - Courtesy Library of Congress
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cab ride By Kent Nerburn
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Taxi in the streets of NYC by Caufield 38
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here was a time in my life 20 years ago when I was driving a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life, a gambler’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss, constant movement, and the thrill of a dice roll every time a new passenger got into the cab. What I didn’t count on when I took the job was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a rolling confessional. Passengers would climb in, sit behind me in total anonymity, and tell me of their lives. We were like strangers on a train, the passengers and I, hurtling through the night, revealing intimacies we would never have dreamed of sharing during the brighter light of day. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and made me weep. And none of those lives touched me more than that of a woman I picked up late on a warm August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or someone going off to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town. When I arrived at the address, the building was dark except for a single light in a ground-floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a short minute, then drive away. Too many bad possibilities awaited a driver who went up to a darkened building at 2:30 in the morning.
But I had seen too many people trapped in a life of poverty who depended on the cab as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation had a real whiff of danger, I always went to the door to find the passenger. It might, I reasoned, be someone who needs my assistance. Would I not want a driver to do the same if my mother or father had called for a cab?
It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”
So I walked to the door and knocked.
“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered.
“Just a minute,” answered a frail and elderly voice. I could hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman somewhere in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like you might see in a costume shop or a Goodwill store or in a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The sound had been her dragging it across the floor.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”
The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. “Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. “I’d like a few moments alone. Then, if you could come back and help me? I’m not very strong.” I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm, and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. Her praise and appreciation were almost embarrassing. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I should go there. He says I don’t have very long.” I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to go?” I asked. For the next two hours we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they had first been married. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she would have me slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”
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We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. Without waiting for me, they opened the door and began assisting the woman. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her; perhaps she had phoned them right before we left.
There was nothing more to say. I squeezed her hand once, then walked out into the dim morning light. Behind me, I could hear the
We are so conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unawares. When that woman hugged me and said that I had brought her a moment of joy, it was possible to believe that I had been placed on earth for the sole purpose of providing her with that last ride.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase up to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. “How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse. “Nothing,” I said. “You have to make a living,” she answered.
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“There are other passengers,” I responded.
door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held on to me tightly. “You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”
I did not pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the remainder of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry
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driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? What if I had been in a foul mood and had refused to engage the woman in conversation? How many other moments like that had I missed or failed to grasp?
I do not think that I have ever done anything in my life that was any more important. From ‘Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace: Living in the Spirit of the Prayer of St. Francis’ by Kent Nerburn. Published by HarperOne. Please visit his website at www.kentnerburn.com.
I’m Just Sayin’
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ou may not realize it, but busy sucks. Relaxation rules. If you are running in a thousand different directions week after week, please rethink your priorities. It’s wearing you down. It’s wearing your kids down. Being worn down sucks. And a grouchy, over tired family is a bickering, complaining, unhappy family. If your kids eat dinner three nights a week on their way to activities —rethink those activities. If you are on the PTA, teacher appreciation committee, soccer snacks, and concession stand duty you have overextended yourself. Sure, parents do need to pitch in, but pick the jobs that allow you to be with your family. The world will continue to spin if you decline a few volunteer jobs. Volunteer at home. Volunteer to help your kids with their homework. Volunteer to rebound for your son, or hit tennis balls with your daughter. Volunteer to make popcorn for a card playing evening or a family movie night. If you haven’t watched a movie or television show with your kids in a month, you are missing valuable talking time. And believe me, kids will not tell you about their lives
By Shelly Gail Morris
Make love. Don’t be too busy for your relationship. Consequences are dire.
when they are late for karate, or being fitted for a cheerleading outfit. They need time to open up—time to connect. And yes, I do believe that teenagers are a good audience when they are trapped in your car, use that time smartly. Pretend like you are casually interested and then listen hard. But remember that very shortly they will be driving and your talk moments will have to find unrushed time at some other point. Don’t pass by your husband or boyfriend either. It makes him feel unimportant. Don’t spend hours telling him all you do. Sure, he needs to know, but if you are that busy don’t spend your only moments together bitching and moaning. Take time to hug. Male egos do not like to be last on your busy schedule. Slow down. Spend the evening relaxing. Talk. Give a back rub. Get a foot rub.
Find time to really connect with your kids—with your mother—with your sister—with your girlfriends. That’s why there’s Starbucks. Be there for them. Life is all about relationships. Those people at the bake sale will not hold your hand when you have a biopsy. Spend time on real life. Never blow off a girlfriend when she calls with a real problem. Don’t rush past your family and never get to know them. I’ll bet you still have much to discover about your kids. But you will never truly know them if you do not spend time with them. If you are hauling them here and there to hang out with others, just remember they are not hanging out with you. As they grow they might never even see the need for hanging out with you. That’s not good. Don’t be too busy for those who truly matter. Someday when you need someone, you don’t want your family to be too busy for you. I’m just sayin’.
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By Jen Angel Jen Angel wrote this article as part of Sustainable Happiness, the Winter 2009 issue of YES! Magazine
In the last few ye ars, psychologist s and researcher on a question pr s have been digg eviously left to ph ing up hard data ilosophers: Wha the father-son te t makes us happ am Ed Diener an y? Researchers d Robert Biswas Lyubomirsky, an like -Diener, Stanford d ethicist Stephe psychologist Sonj n Post have stud how things like a ie d people all over money, attitude, the world to find culture, memory, habits affect our out health, altruism well-being. The , and our day-to emerging field of new findings that -d ay po sitive psychology suggest your acti is bursting with ons can have a si and satisfaction gnificant effect on with life. Here ar yo e 10 scientifically ur happiness proven strategies for getting happ y.
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Savor Everyday Moments
Pause now and then to smell a rose or watch children at play. Study participants who took time to “savor” ordinary events that they normally hurried through, or to think back on pleasant moments from their day, “showed significant increases in happiness and reductions in depression,” says psychologist Sonja Lyubomirsky.
Avoid Comparisons
While keeping up with the Joneses is part of American culture, comparing ourselves with others can be damaging to happiness and self-esteem. Instead of comparing ourselves to others, focusing on our own personal achievement leads to greater satisfaction, according to Lyubomirsky.
Put Money Low on the List
People who put money high on their priority list are more at risk for depression, anxiety, and low selfesteem, according to researchers Tim Kasser and Richard Ryan. Their findings hold true across nations and cultures. “The more we seek satisfactions in material goods, the less we find them there,” Ryan says. “The satisfaction has a short half-life—it’s very fleeting.” Money-seekers also score lower on tests of self-actualization and vitality.
Make Friends, Treasure Family
Happier people tend to have good families, friends, and supportive relationships, say Diener and Robert Biswas-Diener. But it’s not enough to be the life of the party if you’re surrounded by shallow acquaintances. We don’t just need relationships, we need close ones that involve understanding and caring.
Have Meaningful Goals
“People who strive for something significant, whether it’s learning a new craft or raising moral children, are far happier than those who don’t have strong dreams or aspirations,” say Diener and Biswas-Diener. “As humans, we actually require a sense of meaning to thrive.” Harvard’s resident happiness professor, Tal Ben-Shahar, agrees, “Happiness lies at the intersection between pleasure and meaning. Whether at work or at home, the goal is to engage in activities that are both personally significant and enjoyable.”
Say Thank You Like You Mean It
People who keep gratitude journals on a weekly basis are healthier, more optimistic, and more likely to make progress toward achieving personal goals, according to author Robert Emmons. Research by Martin Seligman, founder of positive psychology, revealed that people who write “gratitude letters” to someone who made a difference in their lives score higher on happiness, and lower on depression—and the effect lasts for weeks.
Get Out and Exercise
Take Initiative at Work
How happy you are at work depends in part on how much initiative you take. Researcher Amy Wrzesniewski says that when we express creativity, help others, suggest improvements, or do additional tasks on the job, we make our work more rewarding and feel more in control.
A Duke University study shows that exercise may be just as effective as drugs in treating depression, without all the side effects and expense. Other research shows that in addition to health benefits, regular exercise offers a sense of accomplishment and opportunity for social interaction, releases feel-good endorphins, and boosts self-esteem.
Give It Away, Give It Away Now!
Smile Even When You Don’t Feel Like It
It sounds simple, but it works. “Happy people…see possibilities, opportunities, and success. When they think of the future, they are optimistic, and when they review the past, they tend to savor the high points,” say Diener and BiswasDiener. Even if you weren’t born looking at the glass as half-full, with practice, a positive outlook can become a habit.
Make altruism and giving part of your life, and be purposeful about it. Researcher Stephen Post says helping a neighbor, volunteering, or donating goods and services results in a “helper’s high,” and you get more health benefits than you would from exercise or quitting smoking. Listening to a friend, passing on your skills, celebrating others’ successes, and forgiveness also contribute to happiness, he says. Researcher Elizabeth Dunn found that those who spend money on others reported much greater happiness than those who spend it on themselves. Our USA Magazine 43
Mail Order Cabbage By Kate Martin
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Kalamazoo Wood Stove Settings Read: Cool, Warm, Hot & Very Hot
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have always loved mail order catalogs. You can find almost anything in them. I can remember many a winter evening curled up by the fire with a catalog. Actually, I love doing that year round. Recently, I saw a large pot. It was supposed to work on your stove or your wood cook stove. The pot was brightly colored, reasonably priced, and seemed like it was just what I needed. However, I wanted to use it on our regular wood stove. I wasn’t sure whether it would work or not, if I just placed it on top of our wood stove. So, I called the company’s 888 number to check. When I called the company, I discovered I was calling Virginia. The person I talked to was extremely nice, and tried very hard to be most helpful. She told me she wasn’t sure if the pot would work on our regular wood stove, but said she would check with the buyer, and the buyer would check with the manufacturer and call me back. I couldn’t believe there was such exceptional concern and such great customer service. In the course of our conversation, while she was waiting for her computer, we talked about cooking with wood. I talked about the potatoes, sweet potatoes and crumb covered onions I have cooked in the wood stove. She asked if I had ever fixed cabbage in the wood stove. I told her I had not tried that. She then told me about her mother and cabbage. It seems her mother, who lives in West Virginia, always fixes it in the wood stove. She had worried about losing all the nutrients when you boiled it.
To make cabbage in the wood stove, you slice a head of fresh cabbage into quarters (assuming one quarter per person). Then you slice holes in the cabbage. Each hole is filled with butter. When you have done that, each piece of cabbage is placed on a separate piece of foil. Salt and pepper is added to each piece,which is then rolled individually in a piece of foil, and then a second piece of foil. Throw them on the coals. Cook 18 minutes with a hot fire, and 20 minutes with a cooler fire. The outside leaves may burn, but it doesn’t matter. The cabbage is some of the best I have ever eaten. It is hard to believe it’s so simple and easy. The buyer from the mail order catalog called back. She said the pot might work but... We didn’t end up buying that particular pot, but I will always remember the kindness of the person I talked to. Every time I get up in the morning and open the wood stove, I will think of this person and the company she works for. It is then I will want to start another day with “mail order cabbage.”
Last fall we decided to take a nice Sunday drive through the mountains, an activity we like to do all year long — it doesn’t even have to be Sunday. I love to stop at produce stands, no matter how big or small. They always have things I can’t grow. I could spend hours asking questions and looking over the different produce and farm products. I always wonder if their way of growing or making something is better than my way.
Inevitably, I end up buying more than I need. I always have lots of work to do when we return home. On this particular trip, I was admiring someone’s large, green cabbages. They were so pretty, and so perfect. Before I realized it, we had purchased a 9lb. 7oz. cabbage. The lady had a hard time getting the cabbage in a large, brown paper grocery bag. It took four tries before it would fit. Laughing, we placed the cabbage in the car, then drove home. Now, here I sit with a 9lb. 7oz. cabbage, wondering what I can do with it. So, I started asking friends and family, “What would you do with a 9lb. 7oz. cabbage?” The first answers were humorous. “Tell it to take a hike,” one said. “Plant it,” another suggested. Of course, there are the traditional answers like slaw and boiled cabbage. Still, there are only two of us, and we have a lot of cabbage. Then I remembered my conversation with the very nice person at the catalog company, and her mother’s recipe for cabbage cooking in a wood stove. I made that delicious dish for breakfast for our very first day of our cabbage odyssey. My friends are laughing. This cabbage is providing more than just food, it is a moment to remember that funny cabbage story or that unusual cabbage recipe. And our cabbage odyssey continued for another 20 days. To continue out somertimes crazy journey visit http://bitly.com/VVunmp.
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e h t n i k Bac Day By Larry W. Fish
I
spent a lot of winters in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. Some of them were very cold and snowy, and many of them particularly stick in my mind. One of those was the winter of 1958. We got a lot of snow on the ground that winter and it was bone chilling cold. We had a very heavy snowfall in February of that year. We got nearly three feet of snow from one storm and school was closed for a week. It never hurt a boy’s feelings when he got a little vacation in the middle of the winter.
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We thought that we had done a fabulous job for a couple of kids. We went inside and were amazed at how warm it was in there away from the cold and wind. We even made a little hole in the roof and built a small fire inside to keep us very warm.
The snow was so deep that the guy who usually plowed our driveway, which was very long, couldn’t do it with the truck and plow he had. We had to hire a man with a large tractor with a plow on the front to do the job. The piles of snow were very high and my brother and I would climb to the top and slide down.
After a couple of kids build a snow fort, where do you go from there? My brother and I decided to add another room as a main entrance to the larger room. So, here were a couple of kids who had built a two-room snow fort, and was proud of our accomplishment. I’ll never forget the snow fort, the fun we had building it and the fun we had getting inside and staying warm. It was then that we realized that it was no wonder the Eskimos built igloos. We knew that even in the far north the igloos could keep the Eskimo families nice and warm in the very cold winter.
It was a little while after that storm that my brother and I decided to build a snow fort. In our front yard we started putting up the walls one snow block at a time, and then when it was high enough, we put across some tree branches and finished the roof.
It was years later that my son Tom and one of his friends, Dwayne, built a snow fort in the front yard of where we lived. It immediately brought back the memories of the winter of ’58. It was around 1983 when my son and his friend built their snow fort.
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Years had passed but the fun kids can have in the snow remained the same. A photographer was driving by when Tom and Dwayne had finished their snow fort and the picture was in the local newspaper the next day. I’ll never forget the winter of ’58 and the fun that my brother and I had building the snow fort. I will never forget the fun Tom and Dwayne had building one many years later. It is unforgettable how your children can do something when they are 10 or 11 and it makes you think back to the days when you were young and having fun in the cold snowy winters in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. The Poconos have changed very much. Back then, there was very little growth in the Pocono Mountains. But as the years passed, and the turn of the century came, that really changed. The growth is really phenomenal now, and much of the farm land that used to cover the Pocono landscape is now housing developments. Life will never go back to the way it was in the 1950s but the memories can never be taken away.
Photo - Phaedra Wilkinson Our USA Magazine 47
Many Hands Make Light Work By Kay Thomas
Photo - Melanie Kern-Favilla
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Photo Working Hard by Cindy Cornett Seigle
I
can hear my grandmother say, “Many hands make light work.” She would rustle up whichever group of grandkids was within earshot to help with the dishes, dust the china cabinet or shell peas. She was optimistic about the goodness of others coming together for a moment in time. Recently I got a phone call from a friend telling me about an Amish barn raising on the road not far from his home. He thought that I might be interested, adding that, in his opinion, it might work into a good story. Ever curious, I stopped what I was doing and drove off, knowing that it couldn’t be put off for a more convenient time. 50
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I have spent plenty of tourist time in Pennsylvania and Ohio off the beaten path in Amish territory. Each time, I returned home with a sense of renewed spirit, promising myself to simplify life even more. In the last few years Amish have settled in my immediate area, buying up farmland and making useful of what was decaying. I had heard about barn raising, but seeing one in progress was amazing. From the distance there appeared to be a structure taking shape in quick motion, like the surreal feeling I get fast-forwarding on a DVR. Dozens of workers – all dressed in black pants and blue shirts donning straw hats on their heads – were moving here and there.
I walked up on the front lawn where a group of elders was seated and inquired if I could get closer to the project. They welcomed me graciously. Of course, I left my camera in the car out of respect for their beliefs. There were a few English neighbors—as the Amish refer to those of us outside the group – lining the long driveway. I stood silently with them until slowly, one by one, they began telling me accounts of what they had learned about this new community within the town. One lady said in no uncertain terms that she had been waiting for 40 years for neighbors like that. She gave me a tour of the owner’s workshop where he makes stainless steel
products, and she pointed out some of the 11 children in the family. Along with ten other families doing various types of work in the vicinity, a school will be built next year on one of the farms. Church rotates between homes, and it is held every other Sunday just a buggy ride away. This particular family endeared themselves to the local area upon their arrival. On Saturdays the baked goods start coming out of the oven early in the morning and are sold at a roadside stand. I looked up the hill to see more than 100 men of all ages working at the construction, down to the youngest boys moving boards and handing nails to their brothers and fathers. Sometimes there are 1,000 workers on one site I was told. It was very quiet and peaceful in an organized way that showed the harmony between the men helping one family. Most of the Amish were brought from a distance by bus for the day. Women and children were inside cleaning up from the midday meal, and preparing dinner to be served on the front lawn. The owner designed the barn, and the concrete foundation was laid several weeks prior in preparation. The ground was covered with piles of lumber and equipment arranged in a purposeful manner. Pieces were coming together without noticeable frustration or outward shouting. There were no signs of weariness on the faces of the men late into the day. It was obviously a labor of love that had started at 6:30 a.m.
One boy, who couldn’t have been much older than six, walked over to a pail, reached in for a fistful of nails and handed them to a man close by. He glanced at me with an upturned smile on his lips before he lowered his head down displaying his more serious face. A lanky girl came out the back door and walked briskly to the icehouse where she crawled barefooted to the top of the pile. She filled her bucket while balancing herself precariously on the cool, slippery mound. Off she returned back inside through the mudroom.
It’s not just the Amish. People do reach out to others whether the need is a fundraiser for a local person faced with major hospital expenses, or disaster relief volunteers aiding Central America. Sometimes it gets noticed; other times, like what I witnessed, it doesn’t make the newspaper. It might seem too ordinary, and slips between the cracks of daily existence. However, there is a huge message, and make of it what you wish. For me, I was transported to a place of joyful contentment acted out naturally in a world filled with confusion and corruption. Like the teenage daughter who placed bars of soap neatly next to a half-dozen enamel basins ready for the men in washing up, everyone had their role. It seemed fitting watching the last side hammered into place. Fall would be coming and life on the farm would be made easier with a new barn. I suppose you could say, “all in a day’s work.”
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Five Reasons To Make Your Toys in China
Women Making A Difference
ack in November 2011, when I started looking for a manufacturer for CharlieDog and Friends plush toys, I knew deep in my heart they should be Made in the USA. And, why not? A plush toy factory is just a Google-search away. Here’s what I found, and here are five reasons to make your toys in China, instead of the good ol’ USA: 1. Toys made in China will cost you much less. Chinese factory workers make fifty cents an hour. 2. There IS no option to have plush toys made in America, because those factories don’t exist anymore. 3. You can do every single transaction with your factory in China by sitting at your kitchen table with your laptop and a cup of coffee.
5. And when the creator of Pillow Pets tells you, “Find a manufacturer that can produce your product at a low cost so that you are in the right price point,” you have the backing of one of the most successful toy makers today, and you may get your toy into WalMart! 52
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Fast forward to September 2012. I’m a little bit of a political junkie and (without getting into my personal politics here) watched almost every minute of both the Republican and Democratic National Conventions. I like the furious political rhetoric, the dresses, the pageantry. I’m okay with balloons. And every time a speaker mentioned “Made in America,” I felt bad. Because, yes, I want to save dogs and cats (and bunnies and donkeys). I want to help rescues that need some cash, and I want kids to learn the difference between buying a pet at the pet store, and actually saving a thrown-away life. But it just doesn’t seem right to do it on the backs of people earning fifty cents an hour. If I’m going to pursuade you, it’s going to be with
the whole truth. CharlieDog mutts are born in America, and we’re going to do whatever we can to be true to that. So last week we said to ourselves, forget the list above. Find a factory by NOT googling “American plush toy manufacturer.” Do the research by picking up the phone and speaking with a factory owner. Find a town in America with factories that once filled orders for sewn goods. Find your price point by charging what it costs to make your product in THIS economy, not one a world away. Don’t sell to WalMart. We’re going for it. We’ll keep you posted on our journey to “Made in America,” and if we fail, we’ll let you know that, too.
Gypsy Aussie Cattle Dog
4. You will be able to keep your prices low, too.
That’s where I found myself, way back in December: a cup of coffee, my kitchen table, my laptop, and a site called Alibaba.com. It connects you with every type of manufacturer, in every corner of the world, that you can imagine. Today, a little less than 6,000 CharlieDog toys–stamped “Made in China”–fill my basement, quite literally, to the rafters.
By Suzy Allman
Our USA Patriot Partners
Women Making A Difference
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Short Nights of the Shadow Catcher M ore than three decades of work, capturing more than 40,000 images along with 10,000 audio recordings, this is the story of how one man’s epic obsession led to one of America’s greatest cultural treasures. Prizewinning author Timothy Egan tells us the riveting saga behind the most famous photographs in Native American history, and the diven, brilliant man who made them – Edward Curtis – in the new novel Short Nights of the Shadow Catcher. The Navajo gave Edward Curtis the name “Shadow Catcher” because he was able to trap shadows and light in his box camera. And he did it magnificently. Here is a small representation of the beauty of his vision and imagery. All photos courtesy of the Library of Congress.
Navaho Medicine Man 54
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Si Wa Wata Wa
Black Hair
Heavy Shield
Indian Border Design - jagwearjewelry.com
This photo, entitled Mosa, was enough to convince J.P. Morgan to invest $75,000 with Edward Curtis (a huge sum of money at the time) enabling him to continue his chronicles of the Native American.
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Walpi homes
Gathering Seeds
Navaho Child
56 Offering to the Sun
Rigid and Statuesque 56
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Baskets in the Painted Cave
A Son of the Desert
Indian Border Design - jagwearjewelry.com
Saliva, Slow Bull & Picket Pin
Young Woman
Aki-tanni “Two Guns”
Wishham Girl
Piegan Encampment Our USA Magazine 57
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The Chief--Klamath
Qahatika girl
Mother and child--Apsaroke
Pose-a yew
Quilcene boy Our USA Magazine 59
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We are dedicated to showcasing small Made in USA businesses in our country. If you are a Made in USA business, please email us for special rates.
You Are the Light
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Cab Ride
From “Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace: Living in the Spirit of the Prayer of St. Francis” by Kent Nerburn. Published by HarperOne. www.kentnerburn.com
Short Nights of the Shadow Catcher By Timothy Eagan Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. www.timothyegan.com
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Bullet Blues Custom Apparel 11733 Highland Place Coral Springs, FL 33071 1-954-235-9098 www.bulletbluesca.com
Kisst Organics
912 24th Ave. Sidney, NE 69162 308-254-5373 www.kisstorganics.com
Natural Healing Tools
12107 Emmet Street, Suite A Omaha, NE 68164 1-877 864-8665 www.naturalhealingtools.com
Genuine Ogallala Bay Rum 1-308-284-8940 www.ogallalabayrum.com
Shepard’s Dairy 4 Ewe
1-308-643-7013 www.shepherdsdairy4ewe.com Doggone Clean Paws 1-877-384-2493 www.doggonecleanpaws.com The Alpaca Shack 2450 Rd. 207 Big Springs, NE 69122 1-308-289-3819 www.thealpacashack.com Our USA Magazine 61
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Photo - Phaedra Wilkinson
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