Dedication
And again, another year, and I'm still not done with this project. It's a process, it's a process, it's a process …
But this book is still dedicated to everyone - to those who are directly blood related to me, to those whose lives had to have happened or I wouldn't be here, to those related to me by marriage, to those legally related to me by adoption, to those I have relationship with by common experiences, and to those whose lives genetically didn't matter in my being here but had direct or indirect interactions with and influence on my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. You are important! We may be in different orbits around the sun and the universe, but we do affect one another. I dedicate this to our Network of Humanity, the Soup of Life!! Not meaning to discount all the little germs and plant life that have also been important to bringing me to this point! They have also been important, but I don't want to get carried away. Hope there's no hard feelings in leaving them out of my expression of gratitude here. But disease and dis-ease are part of who I am today - I acknowledge that.
I think about the story about my father and his first wife, Beth, who was diagnosed with cancer in Honolulu, Hawaii, and she was sent stateside because it was war time. If she hadn't died, my dad wouldn't have met and married my mom, and I wouldn't have been born. Did Beth matter to me? Yes! She is a part of who my Dad was, who is a part of me. She kept Dad available and ready at just the right time to meet my Mom. If Beth did not matter to me genetically, then the experiences, values, sense of commitment to marriage and family that my Dad had (etc., etc.) are examples for me and others to notice (or not notice), for me and others to repeat (or not repeat). (This is an example of some of our choices.) Even cancer cells are part of the Soup of Life!
I noticed in my Dad's papers after he died that there were bills written for doctor's services for his wife Beth in Hawaii (at The Clinic, 881 Young Street, Honolulu) up until July 31, 1942. Then there were bills written for doctor's services for Beth beginning August 26, 1942 in California (with Dr. Harold Trimble at 419 30th St., Oakland, California) showing she was sent stateside within this time frame (about August 1942). The bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese was on December 7, 1941, eight months before Beth was sent stateside, so while my Dad was mowing the lawn at home watching those “funny looking (Japanese) planes” fly overhead, I assume Beth was there also. I remember Dad telling a story that the doctor in Hawaii gave them information about Beth's diagnosis with cancer by getting out a book, opening it to a page about her cancer, and then the doctor left the room for them to read. I wonder what the date was that they received the diagnosis. Were they already dealing with questions of mortality while the Japanese killed 2,403 Americans that day?
Did you read my Dad's story of his recollection of the bombing of Pearl Harbor? (See the chapter titled “John William Neel - My Dad” for this story.)
There is a saying somewhere about when a butterfly flaps its wings in a South American jungle, that it affects distant galaxies in the universe. This is often referred to as the Butterfly Effect. At the time of the printing of the 5th Edition to Family Hunger I think I had a pretty clear understanding of what this means (even if we can't easily measure the impact on distant galaxies of what we think are minor events here).
I have a picture in my mind of one of my sons throwing a rock into a mirror smooth pond, and the concentric circles that emanate out from it. And one of these small waves splash a turtle sunning on a log, which startles it causing it to swim away, which causes more waves that shake up a water skipper bug on the other side of the log, which cause it to run from the little piece of food that was so small that I can't see it with my aging eyes (I didn't have my glasses on). And my son next to me shouts with delight and throws another rock at the water skipper bug, causing more visible evidence of vibrations on the surface of the once still pond ... and maybe someday my son will remember this incident by the pond and about my trying to tell him about butterflies in South America and how everything is connected (this is a lesson from Star Wars, he remembers) and he writes about it for a class project, which he saves and it eventually ends up in a book he writes ... or not ...
There are an infinite number of people responsible for the ripples in my consciousness that caused me to have these thoughts to moves these fingers on this keyboard. An incomplete list of people I want to thank are: my parents, grand-parents, and “all my relations” as the Native Americans say; my wife, Mary, my sons, Nathan and Joshua; my siblings (who have not given me permission to use their names and have explicitly stated they do not want me to use their personal stories); my relatives found on the Internet who allowed me into their homes; the creators and staff of ancestry.com and Family Tree Maker; members of the Kootenai County Genealogical Society; readers, listeners, and my friends (and former friends) who heard, read, and gave constructive feedback at various stages of these writings; etc., etc.
Oh, and the germs. Of course, I need to thank the germs of dis-ease and germs of genius ideas.
Todd W. Neel
Updated 12/7/2015
(74th anniversary of
the bombing of Pearl Harbor -
Thank you, Veterans!)
But this book is still dedicated to everyone - to those who are directly blood related to me, to those whose lives had to have happened or I wouldn't be here, to those related to me by marriage, to those legally related to me by adoption, to those I have relationship with by common experiences, and to those whose lives genetically didn't matter in my being here but had direct or indirect interactions with and influence on my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. You are important! We may be in different orbits around the sun and the universe, but we do affect one another. I dedicate this to our Network of Humanity, the Soup of Life!! Not meaning to discount all the little germs and plant life that have also been important to bringing me to this point! They have also been important, but I don't want to get carried away. Hope there's no hard feelings in leaving them out of my expression of gratitude here. But disease and dis-ease are part of who I am today - I acknowledge that.
I think about the story about my father and his first wife, Beth, who was diagnosed with cancer in Honolulu, Hawaii, and she was sent stateside because it was war time. If she hadn't died, my dad wouldn't have met and married my mom, and I wouldn't have been born. Did Beth matter to me? Yes! She is a part of who my Dad was, who is a part of me. She kept Dad available and ready at just the right time to meet my Mom. If Beth did not matter to me genetically, then the experiences, values, sense of commitment to marriage and family that my Dad had (etc., etc.) are examples for me and others to notice (or not notice), for me and others to repeat (or not repeat). (This is an example of some of our choices.) Even cancer cells are part of the Soup of Life!
I noticed in my Dad's papers after he died that there were bills written for doctor's services for his wife Beth in Hawaii (at The Clinic, 881 Young Street, Honolulu) up until July 31, 1942. Then there were bills written for doctor's services for Beth beginning August 26, 1942 in California (with Dr. Harold Trimble at 419 30th St., Oakland, California) showing she was sent stateside within this time frame (about August 1942). The bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese was on December 7, 1941, eight months before Beth was sent stateside, so while my Dad was mowing the lawn at home watching those “funny looking (Japanese) planes” fly overhead, I assume Beth was there also. I remember Dad telling a story that the doctor in Hawaii gave them information about Beth's diagnosis with cancer by getting out a book, opening it to a page about her cancer, and then the doctor left the room for them to read. I wonder what the date was that they received the diagnosis. Were they already dealing with questions of mortality while the Japanese killed 2,403 Americans that day?
Did you read my Dad's story of his recollection of the bombing of Pearl Harbor? (See the chapter titled “John William Neel - My Dad” for this story.)
There is a saying somewhere about when a butterfly flaps its wings in a South American jungle, that it affects distant galaxies in the universe. This is often referred to as the Butterfly Effect. At the time of the printing of the 5th Edition to Family Hunger I think I had a pretty clear understanding of what this means (even if we can't easily measure the impact on distant galaxies of what we think are minor events here).
I have a picture in my mind of one of my sons throwing a rock into a mirror smooth pond, and the concentric circles that emanate out from it. And one of these small waves splash a turtle sunning on a log, which startles it causing it to swim away, which causes more waves that shake up a water skipper bug on the other side of the log, which cause it to run from the little piece of food that was so small that I can't see it with my aging eyes (I didn't have my glasses on). And my son next to me shouts with delight and throws another rock at the water skipper bug, causing more visible evidence of vibrations on the surface of the once still pond ... and maybe someday my son will remember this incident by the pond and about my trying to tell him about butterflies in South America and how everything is connected (this is a lesson from Star Wars, he remembers) and he writes about it for a class project, which he saves and it eventually ends up in a book he writes ... or not ...
There are an infinite number of people responsible for the ripples in my consciousness that caused me to have these thoughts to moves these fingers on this keyboard. An incomplete list of people I want to thank are: my parents, grand-parents, and “all my relations” as the Native Americans say; my wife, Mary, my sons, Nathan and Joshua; my siblings (who have not given me permission to use their names and have explicitly stated they do not want me to use their personal stories); my relatives found on the Internet who allowed me into their homes; the creators and staff of ancestry.com and Family Tree Maker; members of the Kootenai County Genealogical Society; readers, listeners, and my friends (and former friends) who heard, read, and gave constructive feedback at various stages of these writings; etc., etc.
Oh, and the germs. Of course, I need to thank the germs of dis-ease and germs of genius ideas.
Todd W. Neel
Updated 12/7/2015
(74th anniversary of
the bombing of Pearl Harbor -
Thank you, Veterans!)
