In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “(Extra)ordinary.”
A bike ride to an unknown place took me to this bench. Changed my life forever.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “(Extra)ordinary.”
A bike ride to an unknown place took me to this bench. Changed my life forever.
If I left my house right now it would take me 20 hours, 57 minutes to get to my favorite food. Fried clams at Kellys. I’m writing this post in case any of you have a private plane and just by chance your flying from Boston to Martin County. It’s fifteen minutes out of your way. Really it is. There’s even a line in “Good Will Hunting” about Kelly’s being fifteen minutes away.
I actually hadn’t thought about Kelly’s in a while but a friend of mine told me she spent most of the summer up north and with her very proper London accent told me she went to Kelly’s on Revere Beach. I was so jealous. She also talked about the very friendly birds.
Your best friends when you go there.
For those who do not know anything about Revere Beach. Before I was even born it was place where my parents and grandparents went.
It was the carney when I was growing up. My Mom would tell me not to go to the beach and I would head straight there. Cotton Candy and skiball. My heart still skips a beat if I find myself near skiball.
Then the whole thing got ripped down and it became Revere Beach Reservation.
WELL LA DE DAH!
Why is Revere Beach Important?
There is even an old bathhouse. It’s now a bathroom but in the olden days you rented your bathing suit there.
And there’s the old bandstand.
And there is Kelly’s.
When I worked in Boston I lived in Beverly and I would stop after my 3-11 shift to pick up food.
The night I gave birth to my son I begged for Kelly’s fried clams.
When I fly into Logan it’s my first stop after I drive past my old house and think to myself “Boy this hill is really steep!” “How did I ever get up this hill in the winter?”
Lot’s have changed but one thing remains.
Kelly’s is still there serving up the best fried clams you’ll ever have.
Don’t believe me? Watch Good Will Hunting.
Tonight is the beginning of Rosh Hashanah and I’m sitting and watching the sun go down. I am, again, in my little house on the hill by the lagoon with Barney my dog and MeMe my cat. Trying to go anywhere is impossible. I’m not upset about it. It is what it is. I was on call all weekend. I sat in my house and waited for the phone to ring. I do as much as I can in the house. I guess I could do more. Like clean instead of writing. Like purging things instead of editing video. The most important thing is to not do anything that will jinx the quiet. For two days once a month I’m a hermit. Which is fine.
What I miss is the past and that’s not like me. I am so firming standing in the present which is the other reason I’m sitting here by myself. I totally forgot about Rosh HaShanah.I thought it was next week.
Where I live if I meet someone Jewish I usually say “Oh your the other one!”
The fictional character Black CIndy is a better Jew than I in this respect.
I forgot to take tomorrow off from work. Way back when I always worked a few hours on Rosh Hashanah seeing patients who were home bound and could not get out. It always upset my mother. I would explain to her that back in the day when people lived in little villages the family would automatically go visit the old and infirm just like we did on Rosh Hashanah when we walked the streets of Beachmont visiting older relatives.
So as i’m writing this and I click on the Facebook Page of Temple B’Nai Israel and this is there just waiting for me and I am in a puddle of tears. What a gift!
Julius is my grandfather and Max was his brother. When I was young and we went to temple we sat in our row with my grandfather’s name looking down at us and I always felt him there. Grampa Jack.
I have not been to temple in years. I found this online. The Central Synagogue and its streaming live. I can do Rosh Hanshana in my moose jammies. They even have a prayer book that you can download.
Then I found this. Live Streaming and a chat room.
So what is Rosh HaShanah?
Rosh Hashanah (Hebrew: רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה, literally “head of the year”) is the Jewish New Year. The Biblical name for this holiday is Yom Teruah (Hebrew: יוֹם תְּרוּעָה, literally “day [of] shouting/raising a noise”) or the Feast of Trumpets. It is the first of the High Holy Days or יָמִים נוֹרָאִים Yamim Nora’im (“Days of Awe”) which usually occur in the early autumn of the Northern Hemisphere. Rosh Hashanah is a two-day celebration, which begins on the first day of Tishrei. Tishrei is the first month of the Jewish civil year, but the seventh month of the ecclesiastical year.
The earliest origins of the Hebrew New Year are connected to the beginning of the economic year in the agricultural societies of the ancient Near East. The New Year was the beginning of the cycle of sowing, growth, and harvest, the latter marked by its own set of major agricultural festivals. The Semites in general set the beginning of the new year in autumn, while other ancient civilizations such as the Persians or Greeks chose spring for that purpose, in both cases the primary reason being agricultural – the time of sowing the seed and of bringing in the harvest.
The day is said to be the anniversary of the creation of Adam and Eve, the first man and woman, and their first actions toward the realization of humanity’s role in God‘s world. Rosh Hashanah customs include sounding the shofar (a hollowed-out ram’s horn) and eating symbolic foods such as apples dipped in honey to evoke a “sweet new year”.
The Hebrew common greeting on Rosh Hashanah is שָׁנָה טוֹבָה “Shanah Tovah“, which, in Hebrew, means “[have a] good year” or similar greetings.
As we heard from our friend Tova (Black Cindy) the food is an important part of the Holiday. Being together and eating together was so important and I have a years of wonderful memories of meals in my Nana’s House and then my parents place in Boca Raton.
“The blessings have the incipit “Yehi ratzon“, meaning “May it be Thy will.” In many cases, the name of the food in Hebrew or Aramaic represents a play on words (a pun). The Yehi Ratzon platter may include apples (dipped in honey, baked or cooked as a compote called mansanada); dates; pomegranates; black-eyed peas; pumpkin-filled pastries called rodanchas; leek fritters called keftedes de prasa; beets; and a whole fish with the head intact. It is also common to eat stuffed vegetables called legumbres yaprakes.”
I have to say I’ve never had a black eye pea in my whole life. My mom loved the apples with honey. I have no memories of fish heads. My mom did make a mean tzimmes. My favorite was brisket with potatoe kugal on top. YUM.
“The use of apples and honey, symbolizing a sweet year, is a late medieval Ashkenazi addition, though it is now almost universally accepted. Typically, round challah bread is served, to symbolize the cycle of the year. Gefilte fish and Lekach are commonly served by Ashkenazic Jews on this holiday. On the second night, new fruits are served to warrant inclusion of the shehecheyanu blessing.”
So we had the apples and the honey, gefilte fish, chopped liver, mazol ball soup, tzimmees, brisket, potaoe kugal, sometimes chicken. My mom would have a story about everything. Honestly, I think she made half the stuff up and for desert she would make some wickedly awful thing with jello with things inside that would totally gross me out. It’s like brownies with nuts. Leave my jello alone. That was probably for the new fruit. As much as it grossed me out I would do anything if she was here to make this for me.
She also made cakes. I’m sure she made a honey cake. Here is a recipe. I’m not sure if it was her’s or one of my aunts.
The other part that I loved was the music. Our cantor growing up had the most amazing voice. It was like being in the presence of angels.
I bet you never heard anything like this.
I watched the second streaming and there was a nice Rabbi talking about how are always busy and we don’t stop to reflect. So I turned it off and now I’m enjoying the silence, the thoughts, the memories.
L’Shana Tova to my friends and relatives! Rosh Hashanah is for everyone.
My Dad, Arthur had two brothers Melvin and Edward and one sister, Millie. I never met my Uncle Edward because he was killed during WW2. But I knew him through stories my dad would tell me and I know that my Gramma Bertha and Grampa Max thought about him every day.
I always wondered what would have happened if he lived. What would he have been like (My Dad said he was a good kid.) Would have he have married? Would I have more cousins?
I found this today and I was able to leave a flower.
|Death:||Apr. 23, 1945, Isle of Man|
USAAF WORLD WAR II
Passenger M/Sgt. Edward Z. M. Gelman Lost
Squadron: 532nd 381st Bomb Group
Awards: Bronze Star
Pilot Captain Charles E. Ackerman Lost
Target: Ferry Mission
Reports from the time of this crash stated that no combat operations over Germany were planned, so servicemen from nine different units were billeted for a week’s leave to Northern Ireland. The men chosen were the support servicemen, the ground crews, armourers, mechanics and fitters – people who kept the aircraft flying, combat-ready and safe. Some of those men had been on duty since June 1943 and for most this was their first real break. This ferry flight from Ridgewell in Esssex to Nutts Corner in Northern Ireland with a normal crew and a large number of passengers was on course flying in low cloud when it crossed the coast of the Isle of Man. The flight, piloted by Captain Charles E. Ackerman was never to reach its destination. Shortly after the aircraft passed over Glen Mona and Corrany before flying into the steep southern slope of North Barrule about 200ft short of the summit of the hill. The aircraft disintegrated with most of the airframe being consumed by fire. The crash killed all 31 crew and passengers on the aircraft.
The sadness of this tragedy was compounded by the fact that it happened just two weeks before the end of the war.
Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress 43-38856 of the 534th Bombardment Squadron, 381st Bombardment Group, flew into the southern side of North Barrule on the 23rd April 1945.
The aircraft was on a ferry flight from Ridgewell in Esssex to Nutts Corner in Northern Ireland with a normal ferry crew and a large number of passengers. These passengers were additional aircrew and ground crew travelling to Northern Ireland for a short period of leave. The aircraft was on course flying in low cloud when it crossed the coast of the Isle of Man. Shortly after the aircraft passed over Glen Mona and Corrany before flying into the steep southern slope of North Barrule about 200ft short of the summit of the hill. The aircraft disintegrated with most of the airframe being consumed by fire. The crash killed all 31 crew and passengers on the aircraft.
This was the second accident on the island involving a B-17 in less than 10 days, the previous accident also detailed on this site.
The 381st Bomb Group flew B-17 Flying Fortresses from Ridgewell, Essex between June 1943 and April 1945. The Group was awarded two Distinguished Unit Citations, the first for bombing shipyards at Bremen, whilst under heavy attack, on 8 October 1943 and the second was awarded to the 1st Bomb Division as a whole for flying without fighter protection to bomb aircraft factories at Oschersleben on 11 January 1944.
When Adam was 13 we went to England for 3 weeks and we went to visit our Uncle Edward’s grave in Cambridge, England. It was amazing experience. They help you find the grave and then take you there with sand so you can take photos.
American Cemetery in Cambridge, England
The Asylum Life: House on the Hill.
What goes around comes around.
It’s still nurses week and I’m giving my brain a rest from the usual suspects.
Danver’s State Hospital was the second state hospital in Mass that I worked in. My third job in psych. I had worked at the “Cambridge Hotline” as a volunteer and Metropolitan State Hospital as a Mental Health Tech. As a nurses I’ve worked CCSU with kids (South County Mental Health) from 5-18, Home Health, In patient chemical dependency, general psych population, nursing supervisor, and then back to Medicare Home Health.
This is the haunting place.
I drove past this place my whole life driving from Mass to Maine and always wondered what went on up there on the hill.
One woman’s life at Danver’s State
Images of Danver’s State Hospital
So as we learned from the story of Dorothea Dix she wanted the mentally ill separated from the people who were in jail.
The hospital was opened May 13th, 1878.
By the 1920s the hospital was also operating “school clinics” to identify “mentally deficient children”.
It was also during this time period that reports were made of various inhumane shock therapies, forced lobotomies, and the use of experimental drugs and straitjackets.
This is where the frontal lobotomy was born.
“4-11-08 After fire, Danver’s State complex almost finished By Ethan Forman Salem News
Almost one year after a fire swept through the former Danvers State property, the 433-unit Avalon Danvers apartment complex atop Hathorne Hill is nearly complete.The fire, which burned down three buildings and whose cause was never determined, set construction back six to eight months. All the buildings in the apartment complex are now scheduled to open June 1, with some ready for occupancy May 1. By the time an open house is held in June, the developer expects it to be 80 percent to 90 percent occupied, said Scott Dale, vice president of AvalonBay Communities.
Today, the complex, which cost $80 million to build, sports apartments with lofty ceilings, large windows and sweeping views of the North Shore. Another 64 senior condominiums should take shape over the next 18 months.In a way, this is the second time Danver’s State Hospital has risen from the ground. The push to redevelop 77 acres of the former Danvers State Hospital has meant the demolition of most of the buildings of the former insane asylum, with just one-third of the 1878 Kirkbride building remaining.”
Rents in the Kirkbride building range from $1,300 to $1,700 for a one-bedroom apartment to $1,575 to $2,400 for a two-bedroom apartment.
So the need was there. The state hospital’s were built to separate the mental ill from criminals. Once we started having medications to treat these people instead of frontal lobotomies, electro shock treatment, insulin shock treatment ended and they used neuroleptic drugs.
The Hospitals were emptied out and we supposedly had Community Mental Health Centers.
The 90’s was the decade of the brain.
There was hope.
Here is a fact sheet from NAMI
Here are some recent statistics.
Now the mentally ill are back in jail.
The Affordable Care Act—and its expansion of Medicaid—is expected to connect previously uninsured ex-offenders with medical care and mental health treatment. But in the short term, jails and prisons remain the places where those with severe psychosis are housed: There are now three times more people with serious mental illness incarcerated in the United States than in hospitals, and the types of behavioral and mental health problems among inmates are becoming more severe.
This is the kicker.
“In trying to explain the rise in mental illness in prisons and jails, public health officials and researchers point to the closure of state psychiatric hospitals in the late 1960s.”
The nation’s jails and prisons are turning into warehouses for the mentally ill, with the three largest jail systems housing more than 11,000 prisoners under treatment on any given day.
According to the Herald, three former employees of the psychiatric unit at Dade Correctional Institution have alleged that staff at the facility were tormenting and abusing mentally-ill inmates for years. One of the former employees took their complaints to the U.S. Department of Justice last month.
In his complaint, George Mallinckrodt, a psychotherapist assigned to the unit from 2008 to 2011, related a series of episodes, including the death of inmate Darren Rainey. The 50-year-old was placed in a small, enclosed, scalding-hot shower by guards and left unattended for more than an hour. He collapsed and died amid the searing heat, suffering severe burns when he fell, face up, atop the drain.
There are wonderful nurses throughout history that have made changes that have benefited us all. Dorothea Dix is one of my favorite historical nurses.
Born in Hampden, Maine, in 1802, Dorothea Dix was a social reformer whose devotion to the welfare of the mentally ill led to widespread international reforms. After seeing horrific conditions in a Massachusetts prison, she spent the next 40 years lobbying U.S. and Canadian legislators to establish state hospitals for the mentally ill. Her efforts directly affected the building of 32 institutions in the United States.
Here are two I worked in as a mental health tech.
My first job as a Mental Health Tech.
It was a good idea to let the Mentally ill be separate from those who are in jail. Unfortunately, what happened next is not a pretty story leading up to the emptying of state hospital and now we are back to where she is now where people cannot get good mental health care and many people end up in jail instead of treatment where they belong.
The following is a document written by Dorothea Dix to lay out the requirements for women who would work in the nursing service for the Union Army during the American Civil War.
Washington, D. C., July 14, 1862,
No candidate for service in the Women’s Department for nursing in the Military Hospitals of the United States, will be received below the age of thirty-five years, nor above fifty.
Only women of strong health, not subjects of chronic disease, nor liable to sudden illnesses, need apply. The duties of the station make large and continued demands on strength.
Matronly persons of experience, good conduct, or superior education and serious disposition, will always have preference; habits of neatness, order, sobriety, and industry, are prerequisites.
All applicants must present certificates of qualification and good character from at least two persons of trust, testifying to morality, integrity, seriousness, and capacity for care of the sick.
Obedience to rules of the service, and conformity to special regulations, will be required and enforced.
Compensation, as regulated by act of Congress, forty cents a day and subsistence. Transportation furnished to and from the place of service.
Amount of luggage limited within small compass.
Dress plain, (colors brown, grey, or black,) and while connected with the service without ornaments of any sort.
No applicants accepted for less than three months service; those for longer periods always have preference.
William A. Hammond,
History of Social Reform in Nursing
I hate looking back – it doesn’t do you any good to rehash the past – and I know ,yes , sometimes things just get stuck in your head and remain there. There is a way to get rid of all that stuff and no its not drowning your sorrow in alcohol. Its mediation. try it. But first state your case. Write it down and call a friend and say “I’m going to read you this and afterwards I’m never going to mention it again (maybe) but in order to get these ghosts out of my brain I really need you to listen. The first step in moving forward is understanding where you came from, own those feelings, honor them and then get rid of them —adios!
I’m looking back to share my journey because its been an amazing journey. Maybe I didn’t understand at the time what I understand now but I did understand that I needed to move forward. My aha moment didn’t come from any great philosopher or spiritual leader. It came from a dog named Enzo a character in a book that I now call my most favorite book ever. I found it in a Starbucks in Bourne, Mass.
I started to read it at the airport and by the time we were ready to land in West Palm Beach I was finished and I knew everything I needed to move forward.
“your car goes where your eyes go” Denny from the Art of racing in the rain.
psych nurse, documentary filmmaker, photographer, crazed river warrior of the Indian River Lagoon.
Geographer & Environmental Enthusiast
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