All The More Real

Back in the late 60’s and very early 70’s, my generation protested the Vietnam War. Sit-ins, walk outs, marches and rallies, all of it happened over radio and TV. Perhaps it was television that brought it all home to us.

I remember watching the six o’clock news at dinner and war footage would be presented. We’d see soldiers in bloody bandages. Sometimes there would be injured soldiers carried by stretcher with an IV drip inserted. Even more rare were scenes of body bags. After a while those scenes are cut out altogether.

When I turned eighteen in November of my senior year, we were assigned a draft number. Mine was 25, the same as my birth date. That year, the draft went all the way into the 200’s or so. My number 25 meant, ‘Pack your bags, Buddy!’ Fortunately, I ended up 4F for allergies and asthma, so I never had to serve. I had one or two acquaintances move to Canada. Several more died in combat. My brother, Jim, served in the Air Force, did a year’s hitch (as they called it) and fortunately for us, he came home in one piece.

This past Wednesday, the anniversary of the Stoneman-Douglas High School shooting, we observed a remembrance and memorial for the seventeen victims who died due to gun violence. About fifty kids planned it, what they wanted to do and how. Besides banners and wearing Stoneman-Douglas school colors, there was a PowerPoint scroll and every minute of the seventeen minutes we observed, a name, the age and a short bio on each of the victims was read over the PA.

Several things happened. It was reported that, for the most part, there was silence throughout the building. Kids were intent on watching, listening and feeling. Kids and staff members were emotionally invested and moved. There were tears. Of the seventeen kids who read the names, there were some who had to be consoled and reassured by the others waiting in line for their part because more than a few had broken down. And the staff felt it.

There were no chants or protests. Only four kids walked out of the building and they chose to sit on a bench just outside the door and they did so during the one minute of silence at 10:00 a.m.

But it was the comments kids and staff members made after that brought it home for me. Most talked about the ages of the kids: fourteen- and fifteen-year-old kids. The two kids who died shielding others. The three adults who sacrificed themselves in order to save kids.

What made it All The More Real were the pictures of the victims- kids and adults- linked with their names, their ages and the little information we had about them.

And the new reality for the families of those victims, what will make it All The More Real for them will be the empty chair at Thanksgiving and Christmas, the empty chair at breakfast and dinner, the non-celebration of a birthday or anniversary, the empty bed at night. The house and home feeling quieter somehow.

What will make it All The More Real for those families will be that there will be no more “I love you!” and no more embraces. Gone.

Gone before, in some cases- most cases- an opportunity to live out dreams, to experience wonder and experience surprise and joy. Gone.

Our kids chose to give their memorial to the seventeen victims at the end of the day because, in their words, all of us . . . you and I . . . came to school and get to leave at the end of the day, while those seventeen victims came to school and never got to leave, to go back home, to live. All The More Real, isn’t it? Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

I had the opportunity to be interviewed in advance of my new book, Caught in a Web, launching April 26, by Fiona Mcvie from Ireland. She asked some really interesting questions and I enjoyed myself. If you are interested, you can read it at https://wp.me/p3uv2y-7Km

If you are interested in getting a copy of Caught in a Web, in the thriller/suspense genre, it is now available for preorder at http://bit.ly/2GtdsXL . If you purchase your book prior to the publication date of April 26, 2018, you may use the promo code: PREORDER2018 to receive a 10% discount. I hope you check it out.

Here is what it is about:

The bodies of high school and middle school kids are found dead from an overdose of heroin and fentanyl. The drug trade along the I-94 and I-43 corridors and the Milwaukee Metro area is controlled by MS-13, a violent gang originating from El Salvador. Ricardo Fuentes is sent from Chicago to Waukesha to find out who is cutting in on their business, shut it down and teach them a lesson. But he has an ulterior motive: find and kill a fifteen-year-old boy, George Tokay, who had killed his cousin the previous summer.

Detectives Jamie Graff, Pat O’Connor and Paul Eiselmann race to find the source of the drugs, shut down the ring, and find Fuentes before he kills anyone else, especially George or members of his family. The three detectives discover the ring has its roots in a high school among the students and staff.

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                                                  

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI /

At The Mercy Of

This past weekend, the wind blew. And blew. And Blew. As it did, folks lost shingles and siding and a whole lot of people lost power. We were one of those people and it lasted for about thirty-six hours.

In some respects, it felt like Kim and I were camping. Yes, it was a really nice “camper” (it being our house), but still, it got mighty cold. We layered up. Kim had her Netflix downloaded on her device and as long as it was charged, she was pretty much good to go. I wrote and read. Took a nap or two.

Because we were limited as to what we could eat, we went out . . . along with half of the county we live in. The following day, we went to a movie. It wasn’t great, but at least it was warm and popcorn is always good, right?

Got me thinking . . .

There are times when we plan something, big or small, and for one reason or another it doesn’t work or come together. Sometimes we’re At The Mercy Of timing or Karma or kismet or luck. Goonies and gremlins and goblins. Whatever. There are times when Mother Nature does her thing and we lose all control because Mother Nature does what Mother Nature does.

Plans, no matter how tightly we package them, no matter how we try to plan for every possible scenario, sometimes fall apart because we can’t control everything. And we shouldn’t expect to.

Remember when I said that “people lost power?”

Sometimes we don’t have any power even though we think we do.

That’s an important statement: sometimes we don’t have any power even though we think we do.

We can’t control weather. We can’t control time. We can’t control people.

What we can control, and perhaps the only thing we can control, is how we deal with it. What we can control is how we react to it.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a lot, does it?

But . . .

It actually is quite a bit. Think for a moment of yourself in your car driving along at a nice clip and you encounter a slow driver. Can’t get around him. Or ever been on a highway and you’re caught behind a truck trying to pass another truck? Both trucks end up going the same speed for what seems like miles and the parade builds up behind you. We end up At The Mercy Of those two trucks.

Or do we?

Yes, for what seems like an eternity, we are forced to slow down and get in line. But consider for a second that instead of a road rage moment, we relax. We take a deep breath. Because the reality is that we can’t control the truck. We can’t control the driver. We can’t control the driving conditions.

We can only control ourselves. We can choose to remain in power. Yes, sometimes it’s uncomfortable and we would rather slam on the horn or yell or flick someone off. Been there and done that. I end up At The Mercy Of myself. I lose control. I lose my focus. I lose my temper, my patience, my mind.

Wouldn’t it be better to be in control and remain in control even though all around you a mess is happening? Wouldn’t it be better for us to focus, relax, breathe and regain composure? I think when we recognize that the only control we have in life is over ourselves, we’ll be a lot happier. We’ll be at peace. I would rather be at my own mercy than At The Mercy Of someone or something else. Wouldn’t you? Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

My fifth work of thriller/suspense fiction, Caught in a Web, is now available for preorder at http://bit.ly/2GtdsXL  . If you purchase your book prior to the publication date of April 26, 2018, you may use the promo code: PREORDER2018 to receive a 10% discount. I hope you check it out.

Here is what it is about:

The bodies of high school and middle school kids are found dead from an overdose of heroin and fentanyl. The drug trade along the I-94 and I-43 corridors and the Milwaukee Metro area is controlled by MS-13, a violent gang originating from El Salvador. Ricardo Fuentes is sent from Chicago to Waukesha to find out who is cutting in on their business, shut it down and teach them a lesson. But he has an ulterior motive: find and kill a fifteen-year-old boy, George Tokay, who had killed his cousin the previous summer.

Detectives Jamie Graff, Pat O’Connor and Paul Eiselmann race to find the source of the drugs, shut down the ring, and find Fuentes before he kills anyone else, especially George or members of his family. The three detectives discover the ring has its roots in a high school among the students and staff.

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                                                 

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI /

Perhaps Consider

When I went through my graduate program for counseling back in 1982 and then again for administration back in 1996, we had a wide variety of courses. Some were prescribed, while others we could take if there was time and interest to take them. I had always known that no amount of coursework, whether in counseling or in administration, would actually prepare me for what I faced on a daily basis. No, it took sitting in that particular chair, in that office and actually doing the work. Learning by doing and learning by mostly watching and listening. Learning from others and learning by listening and watching others.

There were prescribed fire drills. Making sure kids and staff got outdoors quickly, efficiently and safely. That was a big deal. Rarely, but occasionally we had someone scribble a note or write graffiti on a restroom wall or stall about a bomb. So, we learned what we needed to do to keep kids and staff safe and we practice that. Throw in an occasional earthquake drill. That was the extent of it for the most part.

And then . . .

In 1999 an event took place at Columbine High School that changed the landscape of life in schools. Several shootings in between that one and Sandy Hook Elementary in 2012. And then an event took place at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School on Valentine’s Day, just two days ago.

Thirteen killed at Columbine. Twenty 6- and 7-year-old students shot and killed at Sandy Hook. Seventeen shot and killed at Stoneman Douglas.  A total of eighteen shootings on school grounds since January 1^st, 2018.

Think about that for a moment . . . or not.

As a teacher, coach and counselor and now as an administrator, I’ve always preached that school is the safest place to be. It is a community. There is a certain amount of caring, compassion, concern, and respect that is in a school environment that might not exist outside in the “real world.” Or at least there should be, right?

I mean, parents drop off their kids or kids drive to school and the biggest worry should be “Is my homework done?” “Will I pass the test?” “I have a zit on my face, is anyone going to notice?” “Who will I ask to prom?” In the life of a kid, those are the big worries, right? I’m sure there are others . . . so many others.

Now?

I’m not going to get political, though I can easily run down that path. Lord knows I want to, but in the end, my opinion is my opinion and it might be the same or different from yours and we end up in a heated exchange and nothing happens except for frayed friendships and damaged, if not broken relationships. So I’ll hold my tongue . . . or my computer keyboard, as it were.

But . . .

Perhaps Consider that the only way things will truly change will be if we get back to caring about each other. Perhaps Consider that we might try to listen and to watch more. Perhaps Consider that we need to reach out to the lonely kid in the back of the room who is by him or herself a lot, too much. Perhaps Consider that we develop a healthy relationship with the kids we teach, the kids who walk the hallway, or who sit alone and eat lunch in the cafeteria.

Perhaps Consider standing in the doorway and greeting each kid who walks in expecting a great lesson, who walks in expecting not to be belittled or to receive a sarcastic comment. Perhaps Consider that each kid comes to us at a different place in life, from a different place in life, and Perhaps Consider that each kid carries with him or her some baggage, some hurt, some longing, an empty place that love and a smile can only fill.

Perhaps Consider that a teacher, the counselor, the administrator, the receptionist, the nurse, the cafeteria worker, the administrative assistant, the custodian might be the only person who can lift up, if even for a moment. Perhaps Consider what you and I can do. Perhaps Consider what you and I can do differently. Perhaps Consider what you and I need to stop doing. Perhaps Consider what you and I might do to help instead of hurt, to hold instead of push away, to accept instead of reject. And Perhaps Consider that we need to do this, not just with kids, but with each other. Yes, Perhaps Consider. Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

My fifth work of thriller/suspense fiction, Caught in a Web, is now available for preorder at http://bit.ly/2GtdsXL . If you purchase your book prior to the publication date of April 26, 2018, you may use the promo code: PREORDER2018 to receive a 10% discount.

You might ask, what is it about? Here is the jacket blurb:

The bodies of high school and middle school kids are found dead from an overdose of heroin and fentanyl. The drug trade along the I-94 and I-43 corridors and the Milwaukee Metro area is controlled by MS-13, a violent gang originating from El Salvador. Ricardo Fuentes is sent from Chicago to Waukesha to find out who is cutting in on their business, shut it down and teach them a lesson. But he has an ulterior motive: find and kill a fifteen-year-old boy, George Tokay, who had killed his cousin the previous summer.

Detectives Jamie Graff, Pat O’Connor and Paul Eiselmann race to find the source of the drugs, shut down the ring, and find Fuentes before he kills anyone else, especially George or members of his family. The three detectives discover the ring has its roots in a high school among the students and staff.

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                                                

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI /

A Call

For about the first third of my life I was single. I met and married Kim late when we both landed on the same high school campus in California, even though both of us were from Wisconsin and I went to a co-ed boarding school maybe ten miles from her hometown. Weird coincidence, huh?

But even into my twenties and early thirties, I’d go visit my mom and as I was about to leave and after our goodbyes, she’d stop me and say, “When you get home, call me so I know you got home safely.” It never failed. Every time, every visit, no matter how old I was. And it didn’t matter when I got married, either. Or if I was a young parent. Mom would always ask me to call her when I got home just to let her know I was safe.

Back then, I didn’t understand the request. I mean after all, I was a ‘grown up’ and had a job and was responsible. Of course I would get home safely! Why was she worried about that?

And then I had my own kids. Those of you who have teenage drivers understand completely, don’t you? Each and every time they get in the car . . . Those who have a car and are away at college . . .

I had a two minute conversation with Lynne whose daughter is heading to Italy. Her daughter saved up the money and is traveling with friends. But Lynne is a parent and she will worry. Heck, she’s beginning to worry a little now and her daughter hasn’t left yet. All because we’re parents and our kids are our kids. We will worry.

When Emily was twelve or so, her soccer team traveled to Europe. In Sweden, Emily went with a group of players and the coaches to get something to eat and do some shopping. While shopping, Em turned around and the rest of the team had left. She figured they might be in a store next door. They weren’t. She walked up and down the street and couldn’t find them. She didn’t have the name of the hotel, but knew it was the big yellow one. She didn’t speak Swedish. She was twelve, did I mention that? She went back into the store and got directions to the big yellow hotel and walked back to it. The really scary part was that the rest of the team and the coaches hadn’t figured out she was even missing. All of this was relayed to us via phone – Emily in Sweden while Kim and I were in Stafford County, Virginia.

And then, I’m sure all of us at one time or another received calls we don’t enjoy and calls we never want to receive. There was a time Kim and I dreaded the early morning phone call around five or six. It was usually my sister, Judy, who would inform us that one family member or another had passed away. Hated the ringing of the phone in the morning. And it was a late night phone call Kim and I received informing us that our son, Wil, had been shot and killed as he had walked down a street after eating lunch and running some errands.

So as parents, and even those who aren’t parents but hold someone near and dear make and receive calls. Whether we understand it or not, whether we like it or not.

No matter how old I was, mom wanted a phone call to let her know I arrived home safe and sound. And, no matter how old Emily and Hannah are or will be, I want a phone call letting me know they are safe and sound.

Today’s thought (as if there wasn’t one already, right?) . . .

I’m stealing this idea from Dale, a friend of ours who spoke at the reception following our son’s memorial service, the celebration of Wil’s life.

Dale talked about how often we put off making a phone call, or put off sending a text, or put off writing a letter or small note until it’s too late.

Once a moment passes, it might be gone for good. Over and done. What Dale had us do right then and there was to take out our cell phones and text someone. It didn’t have to be long. It could be funny. It could be loving and sentimental. No matter, Dale said we needed to take out our cell phone and do it right now while we were thinking of it.

On that day as I was following his suggestions and texting away, my cell dinged. I had received a text from my brother, Jim, who sat at a table not far from where I had been sitting. I still remember what he wrote and how much it meant to me especially at that time, in that moment.

So I ask you today, right now, in the middle of doing whatever you’re doing, to please take out your cell and either text someone or call someone. Let them know you are and have been thinking about them. It’s important because there are those of us reading this right now who understand that moments can vanish before we even know it, before another moment comes along. Gone. I ask you to please consider doing this right now . . . and again . . . and again. Blame it on the silly old man who wrote this post. It will help you and it will help whomever you call or text. I can absolutely guarantee it. With love, something to truly think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

To My Readers:

My fifth work of thriller/suspense fiction Caught in a Web is now available for preorder at http://bit.ly/2GtdsXL . If you purchase your book prior to the publication date of April 26, 2018, you may use the promo code: PREORDER2018 to receive a 10% discount.

You might ask, what is it about? Here is the jacket blurb:

The bodies of high school and middle school kids are found dead from an overdose of heroin and fentanyl. The drug trade along the I-94 and I-43 corridors and the Milwaukee Metro area is controlled by MS-13, a violent gang originating from El Salvador. Ricardo Fuentes is sent from Chicago to Waukesha to find out who is cutting in on their business, shut it down and teach them a lesson. But he has an ulterior motive: find and kill a fifteen-year-old boy, George Tokay, who had killed his cousin the previous summer.

Detectives Jamie Graff, Pat O’Connor and Paul Eiselmann race to find the source of the drugs, shut down the ring, and find Fuentes before he kills anyone else, especially George or members of his family. The three detectives discover the ring has its roots in a high school among the students and staff.

Please feel free to connect with me at:

Twitter at @jrlewisauthor

Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author                                              

Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI /