The Coming Apart of an American Family

NOTE: There’s a fair bit of navel-gazing in this post, folks, so if you’re not into that, I’d probably wait for another day.

There was just no way this house could hold the two of us
I guess that we were just too much of the same kind
— Bruce Springsteen, “Independence Day”

To say that my father and I have had a strained relationship is a bit like calling the Grand Canyon a hole in the ground. It understates the situation more than a little bit and doesn’t give it the nuance intra-family strife warrants. And I don’t know that what my father and I have faced is really unique or even rare; there are countless stories in virtually every medium throughout history about the struggles fathers and sons have faced.

So why am I surprised at the way things have gone with my father in the wake of my mother’s passing more than six months ago? The truth is: I’m not. But I am surprised at the depths we’ve reached. And it is those depths that have made me realize just how much my mother was the glue that held our family together.

How things were before I was born, I obviously have no idea. And the truth of the matter is that even in the years after I became (somewhat) conscious, I don’t really know what kind of relationship my mother and father had. In the wake of her passing I saw photos of the two of them when they were younger, photos where the joy — and dare I say it: love? — just leaps off their faces and out of the images. And they were together for 47-plus years with nary a separation.

But I can remember some tough times too, including the trip we took — my mother and we three kids — to Nova Scotia sometime in the mid-’70s, a trip my father refused to go on at the last minute because he didn’t like some woman who was going along with us. I can remember things being bad enough one year when Mom came to pick me up at prep school that I told her I wouldn’t blame her if she left (and it was real enough that I can still vividly picture the scene: the location, the weather, everything). And heaven knows I didn’t see a whole lot of passion or open displays of love between them. Hell, until he was laid up in the hospital last fall, I’d never heard my father utter the word “love” about anything — his wife, his kids, the weather, a new car, the Red Sox.

So it was always a shock to me when Mom would fiercely defend both my father and their relationship against charges of lacking love and passion. Several years ago, after I’d had another dust-up with my father, I wrote a letter calling him out on a lot of the injustices I felt he’d done, and continued to do, to his family. I sent it to my mother first so she wouldn’t get blindsided. She and I discussed the things in the letter and she never disputed any of them, but still she asked me not to send it, saying that she’d continue to work on Dad in her own way. I didn’t send the letter, though I found it on the desktop of her computer last year.

And continue working in her own way she did. Mom had her own coping mechanisms throughout her life and she used them to, in Churchill’s words, keep calm and carry on. Clearly, her work and her dedication to her career were her primary methods for staying sane and happy, particularly after all of her children had moved out. In her later years it was spending her time on the third floor of the Plum Island house, trading emails with friends and looking out over the ocean. But when needed, she always ventured down to the main areas of the home and into the lives of everyone in her family, always managing to keep the peace between several very headstrong individuals. Somehow, between the ocean view and the serenity and the games of computer solitaire and the emails with friends, she found enough calm amid the tumult of our family to radiate it outward and keep us all from coming to blows and even got us to coexist.

But now, with that glue in our lives gone, what Mom left behind seems to be coming apart. My father again provoked a letter out of me, and this time, with no Mom to filter the message, I delivered it. It exacerbated the already strained relationship my father and I had, to the point where at the time of this writing we haven’t really spoken in more than three weeks. Mom may have been able to coexist with him in that house in such a situation but I can’t and won’t, so I’ve now begun three weeks of travel before I get out for good. My brother is in the midst of apparently profound financial and professional challenges and his already sporadic communication has dwindled. My sister and her family had to sell their home in Los Angeles not long after Mom died and are renting again. And I haven’t had a steady “normal” job in three years and counting.

More importantly, there’s nothing left to make us want to be together. Sure, we all love Plum Island, but it never really was the beach that drew us back there. It was Mom. Her grace and calm and love made Plum Island the place that it is. And she made my father’s self-centered stubbornness bearable. So with Mom’s passing, our family seems to be splintering outward, hopefully like the stellar material formed in a supernova spins out to create new galaxies and stars and life, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that.

I remember once asking my mother what it felt like to be the pinnacle of our family tree. She scoffed at the notion, always believing that her children and grandchildren and beyond would do great things. But think about it: she and my father were born and raised in the Great Depression. They accomplished and achieved so much in their time on this planet, way more than anything their children have done, without the blessing of a comfortable upbringing like the one my siblings and I enjoyed. And all three of us kids are well into middle age, so it’s not like we can reinvent ourselves at this point and break new ground. We’re pretty much rolling along with what we have.

One thing, the biggest thing, we no longer have is that quietly driving force, that gravity, that love that was our mother. Entropy has replaced gravity.

1 CommentNavel Gazing, Uncategorized

Something’s Gotta Change

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”
— Amendment II, United States Constitution

Let’s get a couple of facts out right from the get-go. One, I’ve owned guns. And two, I believe the U.S. Constitution is a special document.

Given those two items, I chose to leave my rifles and shotguns out west when I moved back to Massachusetts a couple of years ago. Why? Because I believed the gun rules in this state — requiring a written test, fingerprinting and the like — were onerous and contrary to the spirit of the Constitution. In fact, on numerous  occasions in the past I thought about joining the National Rifle Assocation and attempting to fight against those rules.

But this past December, a week before Christmas, the events in Newtown, Connecticut, affected me to such a degree that I shifted my beliefs. And now, four months removed from that awful tragedy, seeing, just a couple of weeks ago, the weakness on the part of our elected officials and the continued loathsome behavior on the part of the NRA and the often-asinine comments by people I know and sometimes respect, well, I felt like I wanted to add my voice to the din and contribute whatever I could to seeing such tragedies cease.

If you want to lose weight you have to change what you eat. That’s just a fact. And if society wants to see school shootings end then society has to change what it’s done in the past. And the reality is that in the wake of every tragic shooting, from the University of Texas tower in 1966 through Columbine and Virginia Tech and right up to Newtown, once all the bluster quieted we in the United States have done nothing. Nothing at all. And as Einstein pointed out, doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity.

So with that in mind, and acting on Gandhi’s exhortation that we be the change we want to see in the world, I’ve realized that if I want to see a different America — an America where gun rampages are less likely to occur and the daily carnage wrought by guns is lessened — then I have to change my outlook, my behavior. To that end, I now intend to go through the rigamarole required by the commonwealth in order to possess a firearm. I’m going to submit to the test and the fingerprinting, and I will do so willingly.

No, I don’t think my actions or new gun laws will prevent all gun violence. That’s a specious argument coughed up by the NRA and its lackeys to prevent any progress whatsoever on gun legislation from taking place. But I also don’t believe that banning automatic weapons or requiring background checks or making people wait seven days to purchase a hand gun are a violation of the second amendment. If we’re going to go by that guideline, let’s limit all gun ownership to those who are members in good standing in a militia that is well-regulated…in other words: you have to be a member of something like the National Guard, administered and regulated by society. Hey, that’s what the second amendment says.

OK, granted, that’s pushing things. But I’m always amazed at how selectively pro-NRA people choose their arguments. They’re against background checks because such checks criminalize legal, upstanding citizens. And yet, these are the same people who say that we shouldn’t be against warrantless wiretaps and 24/7 surveillance cameras unless we have something to hide. So what’s good for others isn’t good for you, is that what you’re saying?

As for those who argue about the second amendment being sacrosanct, well, consider these words of Thomas Jefferson:
“I know also, that laws and institutions must go hand in hand with the progress of the human mind. As that becomes more developed, more enlightened, as new discoveries are made, new truths disclosed, and manners and opinions change with the change of circumstances, institutions must advance also, and keep pace with the times. We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy, as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.”

And then have a look at this video. Anything?

That’s why I’m changing my outlook on the gun laws here in Massachusetts, because if I want to require stricter gun laws then I need to accept that our current laws are inadequate and that those laws apply to me, a legal, upstanding citizen, too. If we can change our outlook on guns then maybe we can change the current, bleak outlook engendered by our gun-happy culture. And I’m going to do my part, however small, to help promote that change.

Opinion, Uncategorized

Reality Check: Plum Island

I posted this on a Facebook page (it’s public; you don’t need a Facebook account to see the photos and videos) dedicated to life on my home island: Plum Island, Massachusetts. As some of you may know, Plum Island took a beating this winter, with a series of storms starting in October that eroded the beach dramatically, culminating with a nor’easter earlier this month that claimed six homes.

The political fallout continues with surviving homes being fortified with rocks, concrete blocks and other illegal hard barriers. The town of Newbury (where the damage took place) has been openly complicit with the illegal action and the state Department of Environmental Protection has basically wimped out of enforcing its own rules. The tragedy is that these fortifications, while well intentioned, will actually accelerate erosion on Plum Island and hasten the time when all the island’s residents — not just those who suffered so much this winter — will be chased back to the mainland.

Anyway, I posted the following note/column on the Facebook page, under the same title I’ve used for this blog post, on March 12:

It’s impossible for anyone with the slightest shred of human decency not to be moved by the destruction that took place on Plum Island recently. Seeing people lose their homes and their cherished possessions tears at everyone’s hearts, and realizing that so much that one holds dear can be at the mercy of forces larger than us is humbling to all who live in an uncertain world.

But in the rush to try to remedy the situation that has befallen Plum Island, people need to keep reason and perspective in place so as to not make things worse. And the first step in taking a reasoned approach to Plum Island is to remember a few facts.

Fact: All who live on Plum Island — from oceanfront to the high dunes along the spine of the island to those on the marsh — know that one day their property will be taken by the Atlantic Ocean. Anyone who thinks differently is either in denial or doesn’t know the basic mechanics of a barrier-beach island. Certainly no one expected current homes to be damaged anytime soon, but the fact remains that one day what currently constitutes “Plum Island” will be gone.

Barrier-beach islands are designed by Mother Nature to migrate in their role as protector of the mainland. And what humans refer to as “Plum Island” is really nothing more than the above-water segment of a much larger, dynamic sand structure that, in order to protect the mainland, extends well out to sea. The offshore sand bars that migrate with storm and season are in fact part of the overall structure that is the whole of Plum Island. And like those offshore (and underwater) segments, the above-sea-level segment migrates. To expect the above-sea-level segment to be static is to deny reality. Plum Island is really more of an ongoing process than a static entity, and anyone who would live for any amount of time on the island has to acknowledge that fact.

Fact: Houses on Plum Island have been falling into the sea since there have been houses on Plum Island. The first home to wind up on the beach in this storm did the exact same thing in 1976. No, not during the legendary Blizzard of ’78 but rather during a run-of-the-mill nor’easter two years prior to that famous storm. Storms in previous decades wiped out cottages, dance halls and other buildings, so the loss of property on Plum Island is nothing new. Current losses are unprecedented only in their volume.

Fact: All attempts to use rigid structure to protect human property are doomed to failure, and in all likelihood exacerbate the problem. There are countless photos on this Facebook page that document clearly the ineffectiveness of concrete blocks, huge boulders, coir bags and other human defenses against the ocean. Photos show perfectly intact defenses surrounded by greater erosion than might have occurred if the sand had been allowed to move freely. Indeed, it can also be argued that some of the structures and actions contributed to erosion by diverting and adding wave action to places that wouldn’t have sustained such activity otherwise, thus costing neighbors their property.

Some experts are adamant that the beach scraping done over the course of the fall and winter actually contributed to the erosion along Annapolis Way. “When the bulldozers had scraped the beach they had left a football-field-sized strip of depressed beach below the high tide mark,” wrote award-winning science author William Sargent in the Newburyport Current on Feb. 1. “This had simply channeled the 15-foot-high waves directly toward the houses, scouring out an additional 10 feet of former beach from beneath their foundations. The beach scraping had actually caused 10 vertical feet of erosion.”

Sargent was writing about the post-Christmas storm and his column makes clear the result of such intervention. “The fact that such damage had not happened anywhere else in Massachusetts was prima facia evidence that the scraping had actually caused the erosion. It had not been a natural disaster, but a manmade tragedy — a manmade tragedy long in the making.”

So now, in the post-storm rush to erect walls of rock and concrete, and to create manmade sand dunes with sand from below the tide line, people are likely dooming what little beach remains to further erosion. And with it, accelerating the erosion of their neighbors’ property on Plum Island.

Expect to hear calls for a sea wall or some other semi-permanent protection on Plum Island. To see what sea walls do to a beach, drive a few miles north to Hampton, N.H., where there is no beach except at low tide and where the stones that line the sea wall were tossed by the recent storm like so much confetti over the wall, onto Ocean Boulevard and into people’s yards. With every additional barrier, Plum Island’s beach erosion worsens, to the detriment of those still living there and those who would visit.

Fact: Blame is being tossed in several directions except where it belongs. Various scapegoats are being cited, especially the usual suspects: the state and federal governments. Depending upon who’s doing the talking, it’s either the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers’ fault for not maintaining the jetty at the mouth of the Merrimack River, or it’s the state Department of Environmental Protection’s fault with their onerous regulations regarding human activity on beaches. In reality, the real culprit is obvious and is the only one to whom there is no recourse: the Atlantic Ocean. Whether the jetties are maintained and whether or not humans can do whatever they want on the beach, the ocean and her storms are beyond the reach of all attempts to tame her.

And expect things to get worse. Politicians will argue whether global warming is caused by man or is part of the natural cycle, but no one will dispute the fact that the Earth’s climate is warming, and with that warming will come sea-level rise. As sea level rises, property on Plum Island gets ever more in range of ocean storms, even without an increase in intensity.

Fact: The March nor’easter was not an unusually fierce nor’easter. In fact, the December and February storms were more intense, with higher winds and higher waves. And the March storm occurred at a time of relatively moderate astronomical tides. So this storm that did all the damage was nothing special, nothing unusual. What made it so devastating was that it came on the heels of those earlier storms. Starting with hurricane Sandy in late October, each successive storm has further weakened the island’s natural defenses. The March storm simply took advantage of those weakened defenses to reach further into the dunes than its predecessors — all natural processes for which there is no answer. It is to be hoped that no further nor’easters strike at the currently weakened island, but keep in mind that there was an impressive nor’easter in early June 2012. This is New England; harsh weather can happen at any time.

Fact: The beach will replenish itself over time. The sand that was below and around the foundations of homes did not just disappear in the recent storms. It now sits elsewhere in the entirety of the construct that is Plum Island: it sits underwater, in the sand bar complex just offshore. That sand will wind up back on the beach over the course of the benign weather periods that are the norm at Plum Island. That’s how the island works: built up during the calm times, scoured away during the storms. There are before-and-after photos from previous storms showing just that process taking place — and relatively quickly, too. Impeding the flow of sand through attempts to protect property will lessen that natural process and further endanger the very property people hope to protect.

Fact: The damage at Plum Island extends well beyond those who have lost their homes. Houses a full quarter-mile from the ocean and never endangered will now see their insurance rates go up, in some cases dramatically, and some residents have said insurance companies have already indicated they will be canceling their policies. And if insurance cannot be secured for a property, there’s no way a potential buyer can secure a loan, making it almost impossible for anyone to sell their property, whether threatened or not. And that’s not even taking into account the fact that property values just took a huge hit as the desire to live on Plum Island wanes. Who wants to buy a home in a place that could get demolished in the next storm or two? What will that loss in property values do to the tax base in Newbury? Will people in Byfield see their services cut because the town’s revenue decreases? And what about future development on the island? Earlier this winter the town of Newbury gave final approval to the remodel and expansion of an existing home on Fordham Way that is wedged between two homes that were devastated by the recent storm and are now unable to be occupied. Will that construction project on the primary dune go forward so the town can earn some tax revenue in the short term? Or will the town decide that the short-term gain isn’t worth the money it will spend when that home is under siege in a future storm, and that keeping the dune intact is of more value to the rest of the island?

These impacts are minor compared to losing one’s home, to be sure, but they are very real financial impacts and, as such, are of profound importance to those still living on Plum Island.

It’s ironic that the damage occurred in Newbury, a town with relatively low tax rates for the area and a town that cannot even pay for its own basic services. Three times Newbury residents have voted down a tax override that would support things like schools and a normal operating budget. So Newbury residents won’t pay for their own services, services typically provided by a town, yet they want people in Worcester or Kansas to help foot the bill so they can live in a place where houses have already wound up in the ocean?

Homeowners whose property is threatened have said they don’t need state or federal money for help, they just want those state and federal governments to get out of the way. But who pays for the Corps of Engineers to do the work on the jetty those people insist will save everything? Who pays for the state police and Massachusetts Army National Guard to be present when the inevitable happens and a storm threatens? And if homeowners’ efforts to save their property cause the destruction of others’ property, who is responsible? That’s one of the reasons regulations exist regarding beach alteration: to prevent expansion of damage.

It’s understandable in these first few days after such devastation that people are doing anything they can think of to save what’s left. These are indeed desperate times and so desperate measures are called for. But in the headlong rush to save what’s left, people may actually be dooming what isn’t currently threatened. That’s why reason and a broader perspective are required rather than just knee-jerk reactions. It’s too late to save a lot of the damaged properties on Plum Island. It’s not too late to make sure we don’t accelerate the island’s demise.

Opinion, Uncategorized, , , , ,