Hi, all you hikers out there.

And history buffs, too. I’ve just reconnected over the weekend with the incomparable Jockey Hollow, in the Morristown, NJ area not far from where I live. This national historical park stretches over more than 1,400 acres of heavily forested woodland where the Continental Army’s New Jersey Brigade had its winter encampment (neither the British nor the Americans fought during the winter) for two fateful winters during the American Revolution. Ten thousand soldiers sought shelter in these woods and their officers took turns living in the Wick Farm (General St. Clair’s headquarters) and Col. Jacob Ford, Jr’s fine home at the edge of Morristown (General Washington’s headquarters). You can imagine the toll this took on these men–freezing temperatures (over twenty snowstorms the first winter), smallpox (“the greatest of all calamities”), and serious shortages of food and clothing, which gave way to rumblings of mutiny. They called the brutal winter of 1779-1780 “a starving time.” It was on this spot that the Continental Army had its severest trials, but was held together by Washington’s superb leadership.

A dozen replicas of the simple wooden army huts with their bunk beds and fireplaces are still nestled in the hills, visited regularly by school groups and families. The National Park Service personnel dress in 18^th century clothes and are in the Wick House (dressed as gentleman farmers), or in the huts, during the summer (dressed as Continental soldiers). They play the part of these early Americans, much to the delight of the onlookers. When we visited the Wick farm we were given a demonstration of how to start a fire with a flint stone and charred linen. Hit it on the first try. Amazing! After that we roamed through a large herb and vegetable garden. This is a place not to be missed by tourists looking for authentic historical sites.

M.P. standing in the herb garden in Jockey Hollow.

 

Now there are twenty-seven hiking trails in these same woods. Imagine how beautiful it is at this time of years with the leaves starting to turn. In previous years I’ve snowshoed and cross country skied on these gentle hills and across the massive old parade grounds that once were home to the revolutionary troops.

 

My good friend, Robert Rubright, prolific writer of hiking books, especially in and around St. Louis, and a soon-to-be-published book about breakfast and lunch hangouts, accompanied by his suitable, witty comments, is the new chairman of the board of the American Hiking Society. He paid me a visit last week, so, of course, I had to take him on a hike around Jockey Hollow. He was enthralled. Unfortunately, his wife and my good friend, Lynn Rubright, storyteller extraordinaire, was unable to come. But I did find out that she has just received the National Storytelling Network’s 2007 Oracle Award for Lifetime Achievement. Congratulations, Lynn! Take a look at her website. www.lynnrubright.com

I’ve just talked with my old friend, Karen dePlanque, from LaJolla, California. I’ve been concerned about her, since she lives close to the raging fires that are sweeping through the hills of southern California near L.A. and San Diego. We’ve all seen the pictures on TV, but it really hits home when a friend describes the mayhem and loss in its wake. She said that it reminded her of the acrid, smoldering ruins we both observed shortly after 911, when we walked the empty streets of lower Manhattan and viewed the ruins of the World Trade Center through binoculars. She said that the sun is a fiery bright ball trying to radiate through a blanket of smoke, and people—those who do venture out—are wearing goggles and masks. And this is miles from the center of the disaster. People are fleeing to La Jolla and staying with friends or those who open their homes to help. The freeways and schools are closed and all you can do is pray for the wind to change course.

Some time later I talked with my son, Robert’s, wife, Gwen Abel. They live in Playa del Rey and have recently returned from a vacation in Germany. They told me that the wind has changed course slightly and the fires seem to be dying down. But it’s still a major disaster. Robert, an avid cyclist, says that he doesn’t dare go on his usual long rides up the coast. All around are burning trees and brush, and he expects it to resemble a moonscape when it’s over. Son Tom has just moved to Palm Springs and a new job, so he’s away from L.A., the smoke, and its deadly aftermath. My heart goes out to all those who are suffering such loss and a blessing to all those who are opening their homes and hearts to help those in need. It’s true—in an emergency like this everyone pulls together.

Daughter Cary is back in Chengdu, China, and writes about the censoring of her emails and her inability to get blogs—hers or anybody else’s—on Google. Shame on Google for knuckling under.

With great sadness I read the Sunday edition of the NYTimes Week in Review…

With great sadness I read the Sunday edition of the NYTimes Week in Review, p. 7. I urge you to go on line and read it. “A Few Voices From the Deepening Silence” reports the individual stories, told anonymously for fear of reprisals, by men and women, monks and laymen, business people, and ordinary citizens who witnessed the atrocities piled on the innocent people of Burma during the recent protests. It is appalling! I now wonder if I should continue to put pictures in my Facebook album of the people I met during my four weeks there last January. The children and passing parade at the temple I shall leave, but I’ve already eliminated photos of some of the students with whom I spoke, and several monks. I have some wonderful pictures of guides who helped me in Bago and Mandalay, monks with whom James Wilson and I talked, a lovely lady who runs an orphanage on Inle Lake, and one college professor at Shwedagon who said, when asked how he could be happy when the future for his country seemed so bleak, “I have a choice. I can either be happy or sad. I choose to be happy. And I continue to have faith that things will get better.” This was an answer I often heard. I shall not show these people, even though their faces radiate the inner joy and fortitude typical of many Burmese I met.

After reading this report I realized that it would NOT be wise to venture into Myanmar/Burma in the near future. Any person you talked to would be suspect, if, in fact, you could even get into the country. I don’t know any more facts and I don’t know how I can help. If anyone has suggestions, please write a comment. And look at my photos from a happier time. There are more coming.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=5607&l=c0270&id=584094331

I’m still hoping for news from inside Myanmar…

I’m still hoping for news from inside Myanmar, or Burma, which is what the exiles call it. There are fewer and fewer articles being written, due to a total news blackout in the country. No internet, no newspapers, no cell phones allowed, and, of course, no emails. I’m torn between wanting to urge people not to go there as a statement against the junta, and the need for people from the outside to get to the struggling Burmese and let them know they haven’t been abandoned. This is why I waited for ten years before going there. But I made sure that I only stayed at small guest houses and bought from independent merchants—not wanting to give one cent to the government. During one of my recent hikes I talked with a woman who works in human rights at the UN. She felt that this time the world would take notice because of the slaughter of monks—a fact that further enraged the exiles. This is not students and ordinary citizens, but the sacred Buddhist tradition that is being attacked.

I was heartened by the number of sites on Facebook that deal with the Burmese situation. As a result, I posted the first of several albums about my visit to Burma last January. There will be more, but you can see the first one using this link:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=5607&l=c0270&id=584094331

After writing these words I opened up the NYTimes and found an article about Laura Bush and how she, not the president, picked up the phone to call the UN Secretary General, Ban Ki-moon to protest the crackdown on the pro-democracy demonstrators in Burma. She seems to be keeping up the pressure, having met with both Senators Dianne Feinstein and Kay Bailey Hutchison. This is good news. According to the report in the Times today, Oct. 15 (p.1, p.A9), “The First Lady is becoming much more public, and more proscriptive. She’s not just following, she’s leading.”

Another less positive, but very realistic view of what is happening in Burma comes from The Wall Street Journal weekend edition, Oct. 13-14. The front page story, THE BURMA CONNECTION, continues on p A6, DESPERATE BURMESE LABOR IN THAILAND. It poses the moral dilemma of those companies just over the border in Mae Sot, Thailand, who hire impoverished women to labor in their brassiere factory for as little as $3 take-home pay a day (the lingerie is sold in the U.S. under names like Maidenform and Vanity Fair). They come from the border town of Myawaddy, Myanmar, and are so desperate for any amount of money that they do jobs few others would want to do. “They have no food, no income, no nothing.” I recommend this article to all of you who want to know more about the background of this formerly rich, prosperous country now facing such appalling degradation.

In a lighter vein, there was a moment last week when I thought autumn was upon us. I could breathe, again, and put on long sleeves and a polar fleece, but, alas, by midweek I was back in shorts. Is this global warming, or wot? Then, suddenly, the weekend arrived, the wind kicked up, temperatures plummeted and there was a rush to bring in the house plants, put up the storms, and remove the air conditioners. Hooray, we’re back on track and Fall has arrived. I’m grateful. Each season brings with it such beauty and such renewal. And, I hope, will get the creative juices flowing.

Our first concert of the season was a smash hit at the Plainfield Symphony, the premier community orchestra of New Jersey. I say this in all modesty, because it’s true. We had a guest conductor, Cesar Ivan Lara, from Venezuela and all the music was from south of the border. These rhythms are new to most of us ordinary Americans and fascinating as well. And difficult! We played selections from Alberto Ginastera, Antonio Estevez, and Ricardo Teruel (Argentina), Heitor Villa-Lobos (Brazil), and Jose Pablo Moncayo and Antonio Marquez (Mexico). You never heard such percussion! The tympanist was almost dancing, as were some members of the audience. The brass and winds nearly blew the roof off Crescent Avenue church, and the applause was thunderous. Did I have a good time? You bet.

Another top flight musical experience was a superb concert by the Madison String Quarter, in which exciting new pieces by Charles Griffin and Arcangel Castillo were played alongside Dvorak’s popular “American” string quartet. This is a quartet to watch. We’re lucky to have them in New Jersey.

The opera and theater season is in full swing. I was able to get tickets for Lucia di Lamamoor with the fabulous French soprano, Natalie Dessay. Lest you think me extravagant, I was able to find a $15 ticket in the last row, which, by the way, has the best acoustics in my opinion, and, with my new opera glasses, puts me right on stage. You don’t even need oxygen. Can hardly wait to see the famed mad scene, which I glimpsed  on Charlie Rose.

I thought I had gotten my theater addiction in check until I hooked up with Phyllis Bitow, a percussionist in our orchestra, who is a fellow addict and even drives to the city after work, sparing me those late night returns by train. We have quite a coterie of enthusiasts, including Paul Sharar, Carol Goodman, Silvia Lowe, and Suzanne Roghanchi. The company is swelling, so we may have to get an SUV. Oops, that would NOT be environmentally sound, so we’ll just use the roof rack.

Of the many plays we’ve seen on our Audience Extras, Play-by-Play, and TDF accounts, I recommend: The Overwhelming (Roundabout), Sive (Irish Rep), Mercy Thieves (crazy play from Australia with excellent acting and dialogue), and American Sligo (Rattlesnake). Coming up is The Ritz, Mauritius, and Is He Dead? By Mark Twain, starring my neighbor, Norbert Leo Butz.

For the last two weeks I’ve been hiking in the woods of Harriman Park, a gorgeous area in New York State about an hour from my home. The hikes range from five to twelve miles and are filled with enthusiastic nature lovers from Jersey and the New York metropolitan area. Two weeks ago I was privileged to be a guest at Thendara, formerly the Green Mountain Club of Vermont, owned now by a group of Harriman hikers who use the two large cabins and a section of Lake Tiorati as their headquarters and overnight hangout. Three of us hiked in the woods, stopping at natural old caves used by early settlers, and exploring two of the iron mines that provided armaments in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. Only the steep sides of the mines and deep, water-filled holes were left. Orange and black striations on the walls, and holes where dynamite was used, were all that remained of these massive pits. A few stone foundations marked the houses of those who worked the mines.

The conversation turned to the history of the region. I had not known of Tom Brown, Jr, who has a Tracker School in the Pine Barrens, and wrote a book about the famous Native American, “stalking wolf,” entitled Grandfather. It’s a true story about this remarkable Native American and his lifelong search for peace and truth in nature. Tom has written several other books, including his own emotional journey, The Quest.

At the end of our hike we were so warm that we swam in the lake at sunset…an amazing experience in October! I’m certain that this was my final swim of the season.

I’m remiss for having left out an important visit I had with the other Exley family on Mirror Lake this past August. I had mentioned Chris, but also enjoyed a visit with his older brother, Paul Exley, wife Lori, and children Charlton, 13, and Kile, 11. Also, Beth’s husband, and the grandfather in residence, Jim Exley, was with us. It’s always great to dip into the lives of my outstanding second cousins and their families every summer.

 Lori just wrote and asked me if I’d be interested in coming to her book club, if they selected my book to read. This reminded me to mention that I do, in fact, visit book clubs in the area and discuss my book at their meeting. I have a Reader’s Guide that is used during the sessions. (You can see it on the Reviews page of my website in the lower righthand corner.) So if any of you readers are members of book clubs and wish to use my book, I’ll be glad to attend your meeting, or, if you’re too far away, answer questions on a conference call as I’ve done in the past.

 

Every day I wait for news of Myanmar (Burma)…

Every day I wait for news of Myanmar (Burma), the country whose people I fell in love with last January. I keep hoping that the UN envoy, Ibrahim Gambari will have news of a lessening of government repression, or of a return dialogue with Aung San Suu Kyi. Or that somebody will have gotten through the internet and news blackout with pictures of the current situation. But there seems little hope. Maybe the West will put pressure on China, India, and Russia, the three countries who are supporting the military junta and have the most to gain from the oil and gas reserves so plentiful in this little country. Even Thailand, its close neighbor where so many exiled Burmese live, seems to have turned its back on the plight of these people, afraid it will lose its natural gas and electricity. It has now become Myanmar’s biggest trade partner, surpassing China. Trade seems to trump human rights. What has happened to the human race?

 I find it appalling that India, a country that gained its freedom from the powerful British Empire by non-violent means should have forgotten what it went through and not come to the aid of its neighbor. Do they think that there won’t be any more oil, gas, or precious gems if Burma is allowed to have its democracy, which it won by an overwhelming majority in 1988?

Look at YouTube reports over the past two weeks of peaceful protest. There are some excellent videos and speeches, and a message from Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, the winner of a 1991 Nobel Peace Prize and the leader of the democracy movement. As you know, she has been under house arrest most of the last 18 years. I look every day, hoping for some kind of positive news.

The world mouths platitudes about the horror of Myanmar’s repressive regime, but the countries that have leverage are doing nothing. And China blocked any concerted action by the security council. I recommend that you read (available on line) some of the reports in the NYTimes, especially those of this past week. October 2, p. 8, will give you some idea of the rape of Myanmar by the money-hungry junta and those governments that benefit from special status. Here is a country with a proud heritage, rich in resources, whose people are sinking deeper and deeper into poverty. Just seeing newspaper pictures of the empty square of the Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon made me want to cry. I have hundreds of pictures showing the beautiful faces of these people and the squalor of many of the makeshift homes, as well as the decaying infrastructure of the cities. I kept my counsel while I was there, for everyone knew of the internet censorship and every visitor feared for the safety of those he or she spoke with…but now that I am home my photos will speak for themselves.

 I’m in the process of mounting some of these photos. As soon as they’re on Facebook I shall let you know. There will be a link and it will be accessible  to all. I traveled extensively and was able to communicate with a range of people, from members of the Hill Tribes in the mountains to intellectuals, monks, and teachers in the urban areas. They are a gentle, religious people, but the pent up anger caused by the injustices of the past twenty years can only be contained so long. It takes a lot of determination, faith, and courage to stand up against bullets and bludgeons.

At this writing nobody knows for certain what atrocities are being perpetrated by the military government. Speculation is rampant and chilling. I urge all of you not to let the campaign for a free Burma die, but find out where you can help and how you can help.