Insight: ‘The Not Knowing’

By Ed Pierce
Managing Editor

That Tuesday morning started like any other day for me. It was a day off and I had called the previous week and finalized arrangements to bring my 1996 Pontiac Firebird to the dealership in Cocoa, Florida for service.

I had booked an appointment for 8:30 a.m. to minimize my time in the dealership’s waiting area. I needed an oil change and wanted the mechanics to complete the 50,000-mile maintenance checkup.

At the time, I was the only customer sitting in the waiting area and because it was so early, I wasn’t interested in purchasing a snack from the vending machine or looking at the stack of Car and Driver magazines piled up next to the chair I was sitting on. The service technician asked if I wanted to watch television, I said yes and he turned it on to Good Morning America and took my keys to the shop for the mechanic assigned to my car.

I was half-heartedly paying attention to GMA hosts Charlie Gibson and Diane Sawyer when it happened. And the events of that day are something I will never forget as long as I live.

As I sat and watched the dealership’s television, America was under attack as hijacked jets crashed into the World Trade Center towers in New York City killing thousands. I immediately thought about my late father and how as a sophomore in high school he was listening to the radio on a Sunday afternoon in early December 1941 and had learned about the attack on Pearl Harbor leading to America’s entry into World War II.

One by one, I was joined in the dealership’s waiting area by the auto sales manager, several mechanics, another customer and the service technician. When it started to sink in what had happened, I looked around and saw faces of astonishment that terrorists would devise a plan of hijacking and crashing airplanes to kill innocent Americans.

Soon the waiting area was standing room only as most of the dealership’s employees were crowded in there with me watching the live coverage. I looked away from the TV screen briefly to see if any of my family had called me and I suddenly looked up when a newscaster reported that another plane had crashed into The Pentagon in Washington, D.C.

Having been stationed at The Pentagon in the U.S Air Force from 1979 to 1981, I sympathized with those who worked there and what they were going through and was profoundly saddened by the lives lost in that attack.

I sat and watched at the dealership when each of the World Trade Center Towers fell and ended the lives of so many victims. By then my Firebird was ready, I paid the bill and drove home, listening to the car radio.

My emotions were those of sorrow and anger. I couldn’t believe what had just happened to the nation that I had worn the uniform of at home and overseas and had pledged to defend. I wanted those responsible for the tragedy caught and punished for their crimes.

Back in my apartment, I heard about Flight 93 which had been hijacked and was headed for another Washington, D.C. target when passengers fought the terrorists and forcibly crashed the plane in a Pennsylvania field.

As time passed that morning and on into the afternoon, I called my mother to check in and let her know I knew about the events that day.

She asked me if I knew anyone still working at The Pentagon and I told her that after 20 years, I probably didn’t but I was devastated about the people who died there in the attack.

When I hung up with her that afternoon, the world for all of us had changed. We were at war, lives had been lost and many others were about to be.

I believe we all had some sense of personal safety removed from us that morning. Those who went to work at the World Trade Center in New York City did not know what was about to unfold that fateful day, and neither did the flight crews, passengers, airport workers, people at The Pentagon or news reporters across America. 

What I do know is that countless phone calls were made that day to family members and friends expressing their love for one another.

None of us knows exactly how much time that we are given in life and it certainly all could end in an instant. It could come for us on the way to the grocery store, on a hike in the woods or simply sitting by the window reading.

The “not knowing” is certainly part of what makes life difficult and the events of 9-11 reinforced for me the stark reality that we are all subject to death coming for us at any time.

Yet, if there is anything positive for Americans to have emerged from that terrible day, we all learned we are not alone and we worked together to rebuild our future.

We also learned that family and friends and expressions of love matter. And Americans overcame the tragedies of 9-11 and survived, just as the nation will overcome future threats and challenges. <

Rookie Mama – Keeping it real with all the fall vibes

By Michelle Cote
The Rookie Mama

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end” – Semisonic

And just like that, we’re sprinting headfirst into autumnal transition; a whirl of reds and golds, soccer balls and crockpots.

Truthfully, the swap from summer sun to fall fun has quickly become one my favorite times of year. It marks the return of scheduled structure – We need those early bedtimes so we can take a beat – but autumn also presents a bit of a settling down and hibernation’s subtle beginning despite the frenzied swing of back-to-school things with a pumpkin-spiced dash of anticipation.

Sure, we pack up camp for the season; we bid farewell to pool noodle battles in the lake, to dueling banjo style fireworks battles across the banks of the beaches.

We whisper goodbyes to Christmas in Julys – rocking Noel in 80-degree-temps never felt right with me anyway – so we can prepare for the real Yuletide season that’s now sooner ahead of us and more distant behind us.

Fall is the shoulder season upon which I rest my head; whereas spring is a mad dash – less pumpkin-spiced and more espresso shots-times-twelve – of preparation for all things garden, waking up camp, putting all the final touches on carefully laid road trip plans of summer, doing all the school things before it’s a wrap, and spring sports.

The ultimate wake-up call, indeed.

It’s no secret that I much prefer the soccer mama style of fall in the crisp air under my husband’s warm “Class of 2000” fleece blanket, rather than the slight cringe of watching my high-school-aged baby play lacrosse of spring, a contact sport heavy on hitting–and being hit– with poles. I cheer proudly at all the games, but there’s no relax in LAX – It’s not for the faint of heart, friends.

The air turns a bit in an indescribable way at the end of August, with the slightest of cool coasting among the deciduous leaves as they prepare their swan song.

Our boys giddily hang the autumn leaf garlands across the hutch and windows in our home – I’d bought them on Michael’s clearance years before the babes were born.

We begin to creatively dream about Halloween costumes and play our favorite Monster Mash radio remix.

And in between, we crock on with yummy slow cooker roasts and stews and cozy up with Halloween-themed movie favorites rented from our public library. 

Truth be told, the anticipation of seasonal traditions to come often eases the goodbye to a season that is ending.

Our family had a fantastic summer with memories made as we splashed our best cannonballs and traveled more adventurously than we had before – After all, with all kiddos having long been potty-trained, there was nothing that could stop us.

But we’ll bottle up the giggles and ice cream cones, and outdoor movie nights among the singing crickets for now.

Sure, back to school routine is an adjustment.

But we look forward to those reds, those golds, those one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple Monster Mash tunes.

To slowing a bit down as we gather our harvest and spend a day making sauce from tomato abundance, or blanch beans and prepare for winter’s meals ahead – after all, growing our own produce is one of the best money-saving techniques for our large family.

There’s plenty to look forward to, as we set that mild hibernation into motion and put our gardens to bed.

Because before you know it, that dash of pumpkin spice will quickly become dashing through the snow.

And that’s the dashing season that marks my very favorite and anticipated of all.

So, until then, get your kids to hang your Michael’s-clearance-fall garlands, cue up “Casper,” fire up that slow cooker, and crock and roll.

Falleluia.

­­– Michelle Cote lives in southern Maine with her husband and four sons, and enjoys camping, distance running, biking, gardening, road trips to new regions, arts and crafts, soccer, and singing to musical showtunes – often several or more at the same time!

Andy Young: Cheryl and Joe

By Andy Young

When late summer arrives each year, I inevitably think of Cheryl and Joe.

Many years ago, coincidence plunked Cheryl down in a seat next to mine at an informal end-of-semester get-together of a dozen or so University of Connecticut resident assistants at a local Chinese restaurant. Although we hadn’t met previously, as a typical (shallow, immature, and utterly self-absorbed) 22-year-old male, the first thing I noticed was her eye-catching good looks.

But it quickly became evident there was more to Cheryl than just an attractive outer shell. Her thoughtful and thought-provoking contributions to the ongoing conversation(s) made it clear she was a good listener with a sly sense of humor. More tellingly though, was her understated genuineness. Anyone can grin by turning up both sides of their mouth, but Cheryl could smile with just her eyes.

I later learned she had been valedictorian of her high school class, though she herself never mentioned it. Truly quality people rarely talk about their accomplishments, regardless of how impressive or numerous they may be. The best way to learn about extraordinary individuals is to hear others sing their praises, or better yet, interact with them.

Nearly everyone who attended that evening’s affair graduated a week later, but I didn’t. I was still at UConn two years later when I met Joe through a mutual friend who was also named Joe, a bit of serendipity which made it easier to remember both their names.

My initial reaction to the new (to me) Joe was the same as everyone else’s was the first time they met him: I instantly liked the guy. He was quick-witted, imaginative, outgoing and generous, but most of all he was fun! Joe was one of those rare individuals who could light up a room just by showing up. But unlike many other natural extroverts, Joe radiated an inclusiveness that I later figured out was part of his DNA.

Even though he could have been the center of attention in just about any situation, it never took him long to shift the flattering spotlight onto someone else who was nearby. Joe not only helped others enjoy themselves and their surroundings, he also had the knack of making people realize that they mattered, and who doesn’t appreciate having that acknowledged every so often?

I graduated before Joe, which wasn’t overly impressive, given that my college career had begun when he was a ninth grader.

Decades flew by, but I never stopped looking forward to someday renewing acquaintances with Cheryl and/or Joe. I knew for certain each was going to be a huge impact-maker. In the interim both remained frozen in my mind looking like they did when I’d last seen them: as always-smiling, upbeat, super-energetic 21-year-old spreaders of goodness. 

But on the second Tuesday in September 25 years ago, Cheryl Monyak and Joe Lenihan each reported as usual to work at New York City’s World Trade Center.

Neither one ever came home.

A full quarter-century after the terrible events of Sept. 11, 2001, I’m still struggling to understand the rationale behind concluding the lives of Cheryl, Joe, and far too many others that day. I suppose it would be nice to be forever remembered as gracious, humble, energetic, kind, attractive and intelligent, but would anyone willingly trade another potential 40 or so additional years of life on Earth just to attain that eternally lofty status?

But beyond that, I still cannot fathom how a person of any religion, race or creed could even for a moment think of slaughtering thousands of random innocents on a sunny September Tuesday would ever improve anyone’s lot in life. <

Insight: A Genuine Leader

By Ed Pierce
Managing Editor

There was no shortage of heroes to emulate when I arrived for duty in the U.S. Air Force at The Pentagon in January 1980.

Ed Pierce, left, is congratulated on his promotion to the rank
of sergeant in the U.S. Air Force by his unit commander,
Col. Gerald Bronnenberg at The Pentagon in 1980.  

While being given a tour of the building and floors where I would be working, I passed by the office of retired General of the Army Omar Bradley, who was the first-ever chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. I also got to meet the U.S. Secretary of Defense at the time Harold Brown, and four-star General Lew Allen, the U.S. Air Force Chief of Staff who went on to lead NASA’s investigation into the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion in 1986.

But one leader stood out above all the rest for me when I served at The Pentagon. That would be Col. Gerald E. Bronnenberg, the commander of my unit, the 2044th Communications Group.

I had never met anyone quite like him before. He embodied leadership like nobody I had served under before. It was evident that he cared about everyone who served under his command and he went out of his way to lead by example.

Staff members of our unit worked three shifts around the clock and at any given time of day or night, Colonel Bronnenberg would show up with food or free tickets to Washington Redskins football games, Baltimore Orioles baseball games or Washington Capitals hockey games. He knew everyone’s name in a unit of more than 400 personnel, but not only did he remember their names, he also would know their spouse’s names and the names of their children.

During meetings, Bronnenberg asked tough questions and expected thorough answers. He purposely established unit policies to create a sense of teamwork and accomplishment.

No idea was too far-fetched for him, and he would sit at his desk and listen patiently while being pitched with potential volunteer activities that the 2044th Communications Group could undertake to serve the community. One of those ideas was to film a television promotional spot encouraging Air Force members to volunteer for United Way events.

Bronnenberg was there when the spot was filmed and offered feedback when he was shown how it turned out. He even suggested that we use music from Lionel Richie’s song “Still” during a segment about volunteering to assist the blind.

He personally met with each new member of the unit when they first reported for duty and outlined his expectations for them. During my meeting with him, he asked what I like the most about writing and what I thought about my new unit.

The next day I was summoned to his office, and Colonel Bronnenberg told me that he wanted me to be the unit’s new Public Affairs representative and my mission was to promote the achievements and activities of the 2044th Communications Group.

That was a huge challenge for me as an E-3 Airman First Class. I had to be creative yet tactful, persistent and knowledgeable. I had to interface with Air Force officers and enlisted personnel and to remain positive about my duties all the time.

The colonel also wanted me to create events and initiatives that instilled pride in younger airmen and would give them a broad perspective of what it meant to be a part of our unit. To demonstrate unit commitment, I set up a “Stripe and Bar” exchange in unit headquarters, where Air Force members would find used rank insignia at no charge rather than having to buy them brand-new when they were promoted.

We also started a monthly luncheon for unit members and guests that included a sit-down meal and a guest speaker of interest. I was able to bring in Ernest Green as a speaker during Black History Month. He was the Assistant Secretary of the U.S. Labor Department under President Jimmy Carter but also had been one of the “Little Rock Nine,” a group of black students who integrated Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas following the U.S. Supreme Court’s “Brown versus Board of Education” case ordering desegregation of American schools.

Another guest speaker was Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force Jim McCoy. To ask him to participate, I walked to his office and introduced myself. He agreed to speak only if he could purchase lunch that day for every airman who attended the event.

I learned in January 1981 that Colonel Bronnenberg had nominated me for Pentagon Airman of the Year for 1980 and he helped me prepare for questions I would be asked by the committee choosing the award recipient. When asked for my opinion of women serving as fighter pilots, I answered that they should be allowed to do that because I thought it was the right thing to do from a gender equality standpoint. I was later told my answer is what separated me from others being interviewed that day.

A few days before the presidential inauguration, I was presented with The Pentagon’s “Airman of the Year” award by one of Colonel Bronnenberg’s friends, Medal of Honor winner and retired General Jimmy Doolittle.

Much of my Air Force success was the result of Col. Bronnenberg’s trust in me. When I think about great leaders, his name is always at the top of my list.

Andy Young: When cleaning the breadbox, waste not, want not

By Andy Young

When I grew up my siblings and I were given two bits of motivation regarding the importance of finishing everything on our dinner plate. The first was that there’d be no dessert for anyone unable or unwilling to finish their beets, cabbage, or Brussels sprouts. The other: the intimation that failing to eat every morsel of food would somehow lead to some innocent child in China, India or Africa expiring due to starvation, and how would we like having that on our conscience?

Recently I decided to clean out the breadbox in my kitchen, a chore I faithfully perform, whether it needs it or not, every four years or so. Under all the crumbs, old twist ties, and an envelope of wax bean seeds were a variety of random papers which had inexplicably found their way to the breadbox’s bottom, including some old take-out menus, the warranty from the microwave I purchased ten years ago, and a cellophane-like paper with the words “Sushi Nori” printed on the front and “Best before July 21, 2022” on the back.

Upon closer inspection, that cellophane was actually a slender package of roasted seaweed sheets which are used for constructing one’s own sushi rolls. I myself have never built a sushi roll, but apparently one of my children did, or at least had planned on trying to do so prior to moving out several years ago.

Assuming sushi wrapping is itself edible, I ripped off a postage-stamp-sized piece of a green sheet and tentatively began nibbling at it. It took some time, but with a sense of purpose and determination I managed to swallow it, even though it tasted like a seaweedy wad of paper.

At that point my “waste not, want not” DNA involuntarily kicked in. Not wishing to feel guilt over causing a starving child on another continent to expire due to my cavalier attitude about food, I dutifully folded up the remaining 55 square inches of the sheet, stuck it between my teeth, and resolutely began chomping.

Consuming a 4-year-old sushi wrap is harder than it sounds. For a while it seemed I had literally bitten off more than I could chew, but despite thoughts of headlines reading ‘Local Man Succumbs to Organic Seaweed,” I steadfastly kept munching. Finally, after several tense moments I was able to choke down the entire vile green mass.

My ordeal wasn’t over, though. Hurrying to the bathroom for an aftertaste-eliminating drink of water, what I saw reflected in the mirror was a mouth that would have embarrassed even the most dental-hygiene-averse tobacco-chewing hillbilly.

It looked like I’d been subsisting solely on spinach, parsley and kale for the previous decade. Also, due to the surprising adhesive qualities of expired seaweed, the looming chore of restoring my smile seemed like a Herculean task that would require a Brillo pad and/or a sandblaster.

However, since I wanted to retain the enamel on my remaining teeth, I spent the next half-hour vigorously employing an industrial-strength toothbrush and several yards of dental floss. When I finished the brush looked like it had been used to clean a toilet rather than the inside of a person’s mouth.

But one “waste not, want not” problem remained: what to do with the remaining sheets of 4-year-old Sushi Nori?

Thankfully, my subsequent research indicated that seaweed isn’t just biodegradable; it also makes excellent fertilizer. I buried those three sheets in my compost pile near the spot where I plan on interring the bean seeds next spring. With luck, something will come up that I can send to an undernourished child in China, India, or Africa. <

Insight: The Reverse Bucket List

By Ed Pierce
Managing Editor

A few years ago, I gave some thought to the idea of creating a bucket list of tasks for me left to do, accomplish and experience before checking out of the earthly plane of existence.

But limited financial resources and the demands of everyday life, such as paying the mortgage, the cost of supplying our home with necessities such as heat and electricity, along with rising expenses for just about everything, sort of made creating a bucket list for my golden retirement years nothing more than a pipe dream.

Recently I saw a magazine article offering advice that instead of writing a list of things or goals you hope to achieve in the future, it suggested compiling a “reverse bucket list” which could serve as a practical reminder of what you've already accomplished in life. The article mentions examining your life to this point and asking yourself, "What are the things I'm grateful for?" and "What are the boxes that I've already checked off during my time on Earth?"

The point of the magazine article is that taking stock of what I've done so far in life can assist in reminding me what I'm capable of. It says that creating a “reverse bucket list” can be a mechanism to boost personal satisfaction by listing things I have already accomplished and may have overcome in the past.

While I may never travel to visit the Great Wall of China, play in baseball’s World Series, ride across Europe on the Orient Express, or go for a hike in Patagonia, my life has been meaningful and filled with experiences, accomplishments and overcoming obstacles that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Here’s a small sample of what I would include on my own Reverse Bucket List:

In September 1971, I attended a gathering of freshman students at New Mexico Highlands University, and the speaker that day told us to look around at the audience and said the fact was that less than half of these freshmen students would still be there four years later at graduation ceremonies. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was one of those casualties. Transferring to another college after getting married and facing the realities of rent, utility bills, and health insurance took its toll and academics got pushed aside for a while. I did eventually return to college, but I was in my 30s and my priorities had changed. I was determined to finish college and increase my earning potential. So, I would place obtaining a Bachelor of Arts degree in journalism from the University of New Mexico some 17 years after I started college among my greatest achievements.

During my military service, I laid the groundwork for much of my professional success. At the age of 29, I was interviewing newsmakers and leading a 40-page weekly newspaper, supervising reporters and coverage, designing pages, writing headlines and photo captions. It was invaluable experience that continues to serve me to this very day. Along the way, I was honored as the first-ever recipient to win consecutive “Tactical Air Command Journalist of the Year” honors in 1983 and 1984. I also received the Air Force Commendation Medal for my service at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. So, I would add my time in the U.S. Air Force to my list of personal accomplishments.

I have been blessed to have had three of the best dogs ever during my lifetime. Sundance was part German Shepherd and Hunter was part Pembroke Welsh Corgi. They each had wonderful personalities that endeared them to our family. The current dog, Fancy, is part lab and other parts unknown. She is devotedly loyal and persistent in wanting to go for walks or to swipe the toilet paper and rip it the shreds if someone inadvertently leaves the bathroom door open. So, I must include being the human associated with three great dogs on my list of awesome experiences. 

As I went through life, I wondered what it would be like if I ever received a devastating health diagnosis. Sure enough, I had my answer in 1998 when at the age of 45, I was informed by a surgeon that I had a rare form of cancer. Six months of chemotherapy and several surgeries later, I eventually emerged cancer-free and was able to resume my life. But that battle changed me and things I had prioritized no longer mattered. So, I’d say beating and overcoming a bout with cancer would be a must on my list of deserving achievements.

Lastly, my list of accomplishments would not be complete without mentioning marrying my wife, Nancy. When she came into my life, life changed radically for me. I became a stepfather to three wonderful young men. I took vacations to Vermont, San Francisco and North Carolina. I became both a homeowner and a grandparent. I got to attend a baseball game at Camden Yards in Baltimore. I learned to cook and how to manage monthly household expenses. I also am grateful for marrying the kindest, funniest and best partner to go through life with. So having a great marriage is on the list of my accomplishments too.

My “Reverse Bucket List” certainly does overflow. <

Tim Nangle: Keeping our promise to students

By Senator Tim Nangle

Back-to-school season is here. Families are checking supply lists, arranging transportation and getting ready for the return of familiar routines. Teachers and staff are preparing classrooms, buses and cafeterias. Students are looking toward the first day with a mix of excitement, anticipation and nerves.

State Senator Tim Nangle

This season also comes with real pressures. Families are stretching household budgets to cover clothes, supplies and other expenses. School districts are working to recruit staff and meet rising costs for transportation, special education and everyday operations. Municipal leaders are trying to support strong schools without placing an unsustainable burden on property taxpayers.

During the 132nd Legislature, we took important steps to help our schools meet those challenges while keeping our commitment to Maine communities.

Importantly, we maintained the state’s share of funding for K-12 public education at 55 percent. That commitment matters. When the state pays its share and meets its obligations, communities do not have to rely as heavily on local property taxes to fund their schools.

As a former Windham town councilor, I have seen how decisions made in Augusta affect municipal budgets. When the state falls short on education funding, the responsibility lands on towns, school districts and local property taxpayers. Maintaining the 55-percent commitment at the state level helps reduce that pressure while also giving schools greater stability as they plan for the year ahead.

We also made the first major changes to Maine’s school funding formula in roughly 20 years. The updated formula better reflects differences among Maine communities, provides greater support to many rural areas and reduces the expected property tax burden for many Mainers. For RSU 14, which serves Windham and Raymond, estimates based on FY 2027 data show the updated formula increasing the state’s contribution by approximately $184,000 in the next school year. That means additional state support for our local schools, as they work to provide every student with a strong education.

Supporting our schools also means supporting the people who make them work. We approved a phased increase in Maine’s minimum teacher salary, which will reach $50,000 by the fall of 2029. This approach gives districts time to prepare while helping Maine recruit and retain talented educators. Teachers should be able to build a life in the same communities where they have dedicated their careers to helping young people build theirs.

We also worked to make the school day safer. The budget includes $5.9 million to install additional safety features on school buses across Maine. As Senate chair of the Transportation Committee, I was proud to help pass this bill through our committee. We also strengthened statewide coordination and emergency planning through the Maine School Safety Center. We know that a safe school day begins before students walk through the doors.

Our work did not stop at high school graduation. We protected access to early college programs, which are particularly important for rural and underserved students. We also made Maine’s Free Community College Program permanent for students who graduate from a Maine high school. These programs help students earn credentials, reduce debt and prepare for the jobs Maine communities need.

As another school year begins, I want to thank the teachers, education technicians, bus drivers, food service workers, custodians, administrators, parents and volunteers who help Maine students succeed. Most of all, I wish every student a safe, rewarding and successful year.

Our responsibility as lawmakers is to make sure the state’s commitment to them lasts well beyond the first bell.

As always, if you have questions, concerns or ideas for how state government can work better for you, please don’t hesitate to reach out. You can contact me directly at [email protected] or call my Senate office at 207-287-1515.

State Senator Tim Nangle represents District 26 including Windham, Raymond, Casco, Frye Island, and part of Westbrook.

The opinions in this column are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the opinions or views of The Windham Eagle newspaper ownership or its staff. <