Insight: A Relative Term

By Ed Pierce
Managing Editor

In looking back at this past year, the importance of family in my life has never been more important.

Ed Pierce reconnected with members of his 
family this fall in New York state. Top, from 
left, are Ed's cousin Tracy and Ed's wife 
Nancy. Bottom, from left are Ed Pierce
and his aunt, Barbara Wolf. 
COURTESY PHOTO    

It started in March when my youngest stepson, Danny and his fiancé Makayla, brought a new life into the world, a little girl by the name of Summer.

She is a precious little bundle of smiles who brings us joy, no matter if she is just visiting us in Maine, or we are babysitting Summer at her apartment in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire. I never knew there could be so many baby toys and devices for infants available until her parents showed up with them.

Then in April I was sworn to keep a special secret when my oldest stepson Chuckie decided to pay my wife Nancy a visit from Danbury, Connecticut for her birthday and brought along our then 3-year-old grandson, Leon. I vowed to keep the secret for a few days and took Nancy for a late dinner at a local steakhouse where she was surprised by the two of them.

They stayed with us for a few days, and we had a blast because we usually only get to see Leon and his 6-year-old sister, Olivia, several times a year.

In early September, both Olivia and Leon and their parents Chuckie and Casie came for a visit and during that time, we ate at a Chinese buffet restaurant, visited a carnival, went to the beach and then we all drove to the Maine Wildlife Park in Gray.

Never having been there before, Maine Wildlife Park was a perfect outing for our family. We saw beavers and white-tailed deer, exotic birds, a Maine black bear, a cougar, a gray fox and a skunk. There were raccoons, a bobcat, a porcupine, a woodchuck and even a fish hatchery to feed fish.

The highlight of our visit certainly had to be standing just a few feet away behind a fence from a large Maine moose. Never having seen one before, I was amazed at how large moose are and that they eat tree leaves among other things.

The grandkids told us they would like to go back there again the next time they come to Maine for a visit, so that convinced me we had made a great choice for a recreational outing that day.

In late September, Nancy and I rented an SUV and drove to my high school class reunion gathering in Rochester, New York. It rained the entire way over from Maine to the New York State Thruway but once we arrived in the Rochester area, the sun came out and temperatures there were summer-like.

After seeing friends at the reunion activities, we drove to my Aunt Barbara’s house for a visit and brought along a carrot cake with us. Aunt Barbara is now 86 and her daughter Robin and Robin’s husband John were there that night too. I had been an usher at a wedding with Robin when she was a little girl and I hadn’t seen her since. She was the flower girl at that same wedding.

To my surprise, Robin’s siblings, my cousins Tracy and David, were also there that evening and I hadn’t seen either of them for many years.

We had a wonderful visit and seeing Aunt Barbara made the entire trip worthwhile for me. I had lost touch with her over the years and re-establishing that family connection and having them meet my wife Nancy reinforced for me that family ties are indeed an important component of our lives.

Before leaving Rochester, we spent a Saturday with my cousin Mark, his wife Holly, and their daughter Adeline. It was a memorable visit as we got to taste Adeline’s candied lemons and sample some of Mark’s freshly made pickles. We also went to a large thrift shop, a bargain store and then traveled to Seabreeze by Lake Ontario to enjoy a meal at a place my father used to take us to when I was small. The restaurant is now called “Don’s Original” but back years ago it was “Don & Bob’s.” Not much has changed since I first went there in the 1950s from the exact same menu board to the counter seats and the food there was the best we had eaten during the entire trip.

Returning to Mark and Holly’s house, they showed us a spot in their front yard where they were able to observe and study a group of praying mantis insects over the summer. The creatures were fascinating, and they had given some of them distinct names. Before dying, one of the females had laid a sack of eggs at the end of the summer to perpetuate the species next year if they survive the winter.

All in all, this past year has proven to me how significant positive family members can be upon my life and why it’s so critical for me to surround myself with them.

I believe that the time we spend with family determines our well-being and survival in this world. Some of my family may now be gone, but the way I see it, my family's never in the past. I carry them around with me each day. <

Andy Young: Tough to start, easy to finish

By Andy Young

So how does one start a Thanksgiving-themed 600-word column on gratitude? The best place, I suppose, is at the beginning.

I’m thankful for having had parents and grandparents who loved me and cared enough to reward me when I deserved it but who also possessed the courage and character to rein me in when the situation warranted it. I’m also glad they had the patience and self-control necessary to not punish me every single time I deserved it.

I’m grateful for having a roof over my head, and for residing where it’s not too cold in the winter or too hot in the summer. I also appreciate not being food-insecure and knowing I can safely drink tap water from any faucet in my home.

I’m thankful for my three healthy children, all of whom have already begun to make a positive impact on the world.

I’m grateful for my siblings, who thankfully don’t hold grudges. I know for certain they will be there, if and when I need help. I’m also thankful for my extended family, which consists of cousins, uncles, nieces, nephews, and a few others I’ve designated. I’m also thankful no law specifies that families must consist solely of blood relatives.

I’m fortunate I don’t live in a war zone or someplace plagued by disease and/or poverty. I also fully realize that the vast majority of my blessings are due to the utter coincidence of where, when, and to whom I was born, and I’m thankful I’ve never lost sight of that.

I’m blessed to live in an area free of terrorists and/or hate groups like Isis, Al-Shabaab, or the Ku Klux Klan.

I’m grateful for kind and generous neighbors who treat me like royalty, and who never ask for anything in return.

I’m thankful I learned the difference between “needs” and “wants” at a relatively early age.

I’m even more grateful that my needs and wants are currently identical.

I’m thankful for having the privilege of working alongside individuals who are dedicated to helping high school students reach their full potential and are equally bound and determined to help their colleagues do so as well.

I’m grateful for every bright young person who enters my classroom each day at school and for the parents/guardians who’ve entrusted them to me and my fellow educators.

I’m thankful for my co-workers who’ve become friends, and for my friends who, by happy coincidence, are also my co-workers.

I’m thankful my home is firearm-free, and that my family has no desire or need for guns.

I’m thankful for attentive, considerate drivers who make traveling by bicycle a viable option.

While I’m grateful for all this and more, I’m equally thankful for countless things I don’t have.

For example, I’m thankful I’ve never become dependent upon tobacco, alcohol, gambling, opioids, caffeine, cell phones, or any similar potentially addictive scourges.

I’m thankful I haven’t broken any bones or been concussed in the past decade. I’m also grateful I haven’t contracted poison ivy lately.

I’m grateful I don’t live anywhere near scorpions, fire ants, or venomous snakes.

I’m consciously appreciative of the complete lack of chronically miserable, mean-spirited, petty, vengeful, backstabbing individuals in my life. This includes family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, and, it seems to me, every random stranger I encounter.

I’m thankful I don’t have chronic pain or any serious medical concerns at the moment.

I’m grateful for learning yet again that 600 words are nowhere near enough to list everything I’m genuinely thankful for.

But how does one finish writing a Thanksgiving-themed 600-word column on gratitude?

That’s easy.

With the 600th word, of course! <

Andy Young: The penny’s end is just the beginning

By Andy Young 

Nov. 12 marked the end of a 232-year era of American history. That was the final day the U.S. mint in Philadelphia produced any 1-cent pieces.

There are multiple reasons for the demise of the coin with Honest Abe Lincoln’s likeness on it. The most obvious: it was costing the government three cents to mint every penny it produced. It doesn’t take an economics major to figure out that it no longer makes sense to produce cents.  

Some pragmatists have been advocating for the end of the penny for some time, pointing out the coin has zero purchasing power, and thus has become all but irrelevant. Penny candy disappeared long ago, as did scales that provided both one’s weight and fortune for a mere one one-hundredth of a dollar. Today single pennies are virtually worthless; even amassing five of them won’t buy anything more valuable than a nickel.

The penny’s passing is sure to have an impact on other aspects of American life, including everyday language. “A penny for your thoughts,” an expression already on the decline, is likely a generation or two from utter extinction. The same goes for encouraging financial prudence with, “a penny saved is a penny earned,” describing expensive items as costing “a pretty penny,” and characterizing unwise spending as “penny wise, pound foolish.” 

The 1-cent coin’s discontinuance means eventual obsolescence for “See a penny, pick it up, all the day you’ll have good luck” as well, since it won’t be long before people stop carelessly, haphazardly, or absent-mindedly tossing pennies on the ground for good luck seekers to gather.

However, the second half of that old ditty’s disappearance (“See a penny, let it lay, you’ll have bad luck all that day”) is a blessing. Who knows how many innocent people have been cursed with ill fortune due to their reluctance to pick up wayward pennies they’ve noticed, for fear of being seen doing so by random (and potentially judgmental) eyewitnesses?

Doing away with pennies isn’t unprecedented. When Canada stopped minting 1-cent coins in 2012, retailers throughout the Dominion started rounding all cash purchases up (or down) to the nearest nickel. And while Canadian pennies are still legal tender, good luck finding merchants who’ll accept them. Those looking to get value for Canadian one-cent pieces these days had best find a deserving charity to donate them to. 

For serial penny-stashers wishing to cash in their treasure while it still has value, there’s good news: a five-gallon jug full of pennies contains between $350 and $450. Unfortunately, that amount won’t begin to cover the cost of hernia surgery, which they’ll likely need after attempting to lift a five-gallon jug of pennies. 

The penny’s discontinuance won’t be the last alteration concerning America’s currency. Our Canadian neighbors (or neighbours, as they prefer) stopped printing $1 bills in 1987, and discontinued minting $2 bills nine years later. Why? Because $1 and $2 coins last far longer than paper money does, which lessens the need for (and cost of) minting new currency as frequently.

Some people have difficulty imagining a world without small bills, but others, mostly younger consumers, have been purchasing items virtually and/or electronically since the day they became virtually solvent enough to do so.

Cash may still be king in some households, but recent developments on the currency front suggest even more seismic changes loom on both the fiscal and linguistic horizons.

I for one am glad I won’t be around when expressions like “Some Venmo for your thoughts?” and/or “See some Bitcoin, pick it up, all that day you’ll have good luck” become commonplace in America’s lexicon. <

Tim Nangle: Keeping our promise to Maine veterans

State Senator Tim Nangle

By State Senator Tim Nangle

Every November, we gather in town halls, American Legion posts and school gymnasiums to honor the men and women who served our country. We thank them for their courage. We talk about sacrifice, duty and service. These ceremonies are some of the most meaningful moments I’ve had the honor of attending as your State Senator. But as meaningful as those ceremonies are, gratitude is not measured in speeches or parades alone. It’s measured in what we do — especially when a veteran needs help keeping a roof over their head.

That’s why I’ve introduced a bill for the upcoming legislative session to make sure Maine veterans can stay in their homes and avoid falling into homelessness. It’s called “An Act to Keep Maine Veterans Housed,” and its goal is simple: to strengthen the local partnerships that are already keeping veterans stably housed, especially at a time when federal programs are being cut or delayed nationwide.

This bill would stabilize and support the Veterans Flex Fund. This small, targeted program delivers precisely the kind of timely assistance that makes the difference between a veteran keeping their home or losing it. The Flex Fund is a collaborative effort led by Preble Street and the Maine Homeless Veterans Action Committee, which includes the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, the Maine Bureau of Veterans Services, Volunteers of America, Vets Inc., Bread of Life Ministries, and others. The Veterans Flex Fund is one of the most effective examples we have of federal, state and community partners working together to make sure veterans aren’t left behind when life takes a difficult turn.

Over the past few years, through my work in Augusta and the many conversations I’ve had across our communities, I’ve heard veterans describe how close the line can be between stability and crisis. Sometimes, it’s a gap between jobs or an unanticipated rent increase.

Veterans are often reluctant to ask for help. Many will exhaust every other option before reaching out. By the time they get in touch with a service provider, they’re usually facing a very specific barrier, such as a security deposit they can’t cover, an overdue rent payment or a landlord who needs reassurance before offering a lease.

Those are the moments where the Flex Fund has proven its value. It’s built for exactly these situations: small amounts of support that resolve the final obstacle keeping a veteran safely housed. And because it is administered by providers who understand both the housing landscape and the needs of veterans, that help can be provided quickly.

Some have asked why the state should play a role if federal resources are inconsistent. My answer is simple: because these are Maine veterans. Because homelessness is often preventable with the right support at the right time. And because the consequences for a veteran losing stable housing are far greater than the modest investment it takes to help them keep it.

The Legislative Council approved my bill for introduction, with every Democratic member voting in favor. I wish that vote had been unanimous; supporting veterans is not a partisan cause, it is a commitment we all share.

When lawmakers return to Augusta in January, I’ll be asking colleagues on both sides of the aisle to support this bill because keeping veterans housed is one of the most direct and effective steps we can take to honor their service and uphold a promise that should never be broken.

Our veterans stood up for us. Now it’s our turn to stand up for them.

For the latest, follow me on Facebook at facebook.com/SenatorTimNangle, sign up for my e-newsletter at mainesenate.org, or contact me directly at Tim.Nangle@legislature.maine.gov. You can also call the Senate Majority Office at 207-287-1515.

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. <

Insight: Lost and found

Ed Pierce is in the second row, fourth
from right, in this U.S. Air Force
basic training flight photo from June 1977.
Pierce’s friend Keith Gilstrap is in the
first row, third from left.
COURTESY PHOTO

 By Ed Pierce 

Sometimes it takes reconnecting with old friends to realize how far we’ve come in life and how meaningful our journey has been because of people like them.

I first met Keith Gilstrap on the evening of Friday, June 10, 1977. I recall that date vividly because it was my first day of serving in the U.S. Air Force.

Keith took the bunk across the aisle from me in the barracks during our military basic training at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas and we became close friends. He enlisted in Georgia, and I took the oath in New Mexico. We were both young and ready to establish our careers once we were out of basic training.

The experiences we shared over the next eight weeks created a lasting bond that we share to this day. It was intense at times and mentally, physically and emotionally trying. We watched as some members of our basic training flight dropped out and we were determined not to let the same fate befall us. If one of us had a problem, we would put our heads together and figure it out for the betterment of those remaining in our flight.

Upon graduation, Keith and I learned that we would both be boarding a bus to take us to technical school at Sheppard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls, Texas. He was studying to become an aircraft mechanic while I was learning about Air Force communications systems.  

Since both of us were married, during the first weekend we were there at Sheppard, we learned of some available apartments situated across the road from the back gate to the base. We both looked at them and rented one-bedrooms next door to each other. 

On the evening of Aug. 16, 1977, Keith and I were both assigned to the roof of a building at Sheppard and instructed to watch the skies for tornado formations that could potentially strike the base causing damage. To pass the time that night, I had brought along a transistor radio, and we listened to a news broadcast reporting that Elvis Presley had been found dead at his Graceland mansion in Memphis, Tennessee. 
In mid-October 1977, Keith and I said our goodbyes as we each had completed technical training and were headed home on leave before traveling to our permanent duty assignments in the U.S. Air Force. I shook Keith’s hand and told him I was grateful for his friendship during basic training and technical school and hoped that someday our paths would cross again.

I spent the next three weeks in New Mexico before flying to Germany for my duty station there. Over the next eight years, I served as an Air Force journalist writing articles and serving as editor of a weekly base newspaper but had lost touch with Keith.

Days turned into months and then into years and decades. Somehow during frequent military moves back and forth to new assignments, then returning to college and newspaper jobs in New Mexico, Florida, New Hampshire and Maine, my basic training flight photo disappeared. In fact, the last time that I can recall seeing it was in the early 1980s when I was home in New Mexico visiting while on leave from Luke Air Force Base in Arizona.

Earlier this summer, I joined a Facebook group called 3723 BMTS, featuring flight photos of the Air Force’s 3723rd Basic Military Training Squadron at Lackland Air Force Base in the 1970s and 1980s. It had some, but not all, of flight photos of airmen like me during that time. Unfortunately, my flight’s photo was not among the group posted and it got me to thinking about Keith and wondering what had happened to him.

I searched for him online and found his name on a photo caption for a hunting group in Georgia. I sent a message to the person who posted that photo and asked if he would pass my phone number to Keith, hoping it was him.

Two days later, I received a phone call from Keith, and we spent nearly two hours reminiscing. He told me all about his four years of military service and subsequent career as a civilian F-15 mechanic. He later became so good at his work that he led a rewiring project for F-15s for the U.S. Air Force.

He said he was proud of my journalism career after the military and asked what I missed the most about my time in the U.S. Air Force. I told him that I regretted misplacing my flight photo years ago and only had a few photos of my time in basic training.

Keith then informed me I had signed his basic training yearbook, and he texted me a photo of myself at age 23 in the barber shop waiting to have my hair buzzed off on the second day of basic training. I confirmed it was indeed my signature and told him I never got a yearbook, so I had not seen that photo before.

The next thing he sent was a copy of my lost flight photo and it brought tears to my eyes.  

My life is better because of friends I have made like Keith. <  ~ Ed Pierce