9/11 Experience

I was serving as a full-time missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) in Tampa, FL. It’s a very pious time for most missionaries, where you are encouraged to be “in the world but not of the world” and therefore spend most of your free time studying the scriptures. You don’t have a TV or radio – you wouldn’t have time for it to begin with, and you spend all of your day talking with people and hearing about what’s going on in the world through them anyway. So my morning of 9/11/01 was just like any other morning: I got ready for the day, studied the scriptures for a while…

And then got a phone call from one of the people we had been teaching about Christ. She knew we didn’t watch TV or listen to the radio, so she just wanted us to know that our country was seemingly under attack.

She didn’t know that my dad worked in the World Trade Center.

One of the ways that missionaries are encouraged to stay focused and immersed in the work is to limit contact with home. They typically only call home twice per year (Christmas and Mother’s Day), and otherwise write (now e-mail) once/week. I could have called home to check on my dad and it wouldn’t have been a big deal (it’s not like you get your hands cut off or you get ostracized for “breaking mission rules”). I’m sure neither the Lord nor my supervisors would have thought anything of it, considering the events at hand. However, I didn’t. I had this overwhelming sense of peace that everything would be alright. I didn’t necessarily know what that meant, but I was at peace. So my missionary companion and I decided to continue on with our commitments like any other day. I know many, maybe even most, missionaries in the US found places to watch the events of 9/11 unfold, but we were at a local thrift shop instead. In addition to going door-to-door (the activity most commonly portrayed in popular media), missionaries spend considerable time serving in the community. We worked part-time at a thrift store that funded a school for underprivileged children, sorting the junk people donated from items actually worth selling. We heard bits and pieces of what was going on from people in the store, but otherwise we spent the morning hauling loads of broken donated goods to a dumpster.

Then we got a call from my mission president (the person charged with overseeing all the missionaries in the Tampa area), letting me know that he talked with my mom, and that my dad had actually switched jobs within the past week and was no longer working in the World Trade Center. Obviously, that was a great relief, and today I still consider a great blessing. He switched jobs, in part, to be closer to his family.

The next few days and weeks were nothing short of remarkable, and in the aftermath is where missionaries’ experiences wildly differ depending where in the world they serve. As a missionary, you are to be an ambassador of Christ to the people in the area of your service. In times like 9/11, foreign serving missionaries quickly realize that the idea of American Exceptionalism is not universal. For the most part, the average person in France or Japan or Russia or South Africa or Brazil or Chile or Cambodia cares as much about what’s happening in America as the average American cares about France, Japan, Russia, South Africa, Brazil, Chile, or Cambodia. The main difference is that Americans generally have a delusion that people in other countries think about the United States. Generally speaking, people in other countries don’t feel that anyone stays up at night caring about their national affairs, and they certainly don’t wet their pillows at night with tears obsessing over ours. Many of these other countries have their own “9/11’s” they’re dealing with, and most people have very acute and personal needs very much aside from anything happening in America. Most American missionaries serving in foreign countries weren’t terribly impacted by the events of 9/11. They were focused on serving the needs of the people wherever they were. I served in Florida, however.

For weeks and even months, every conversation revolved around the events of 9/11. At first, conversations were very raw and emotional. To be an ambassador of Christ is to literally mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort and to help in any way possible. It was certainly a time of mourning, and many people were scared and in need of comfort. We were let into more houses simply to talk in the aftermath of 9/11 than in any other time of my service. People just wanted someone to talk to, someone to be an outlet for emotion and sometimes pain and grief.  It didn’t matter that I hadn’t spent a few hours on the morning of 9/11 watching the events unfold in real-time, I had seen the pictures and more importantly lived the experience countless times through the eyes of those that had. Everyone's circumstances were different. For me, my calling wasn’t to live in the moment, it was to help those suffering from it. And I wouldn’t change that for anything.

Boy Scouts of America National Jamboree -- Engineering Merit Badge

Through the association I have with a professional organization, I had the opportunity to volunteer at the Boy Scouts of America National Jamboree in West Virginia as an Engineering Merit Badge counselor. It was a fantastic experience with remarkably bright boys, and I feel privileged to have shared the experience with a fine group of completely overqualified engineers I had previously never met and whose experiences and expertise are vastly different than mine. There were over 30,000 boys from all over the country and an additional 4,000+ staff and leaders, all setting up camp for two weeks in an otherwise uninhabited mine-turned-wilderness in the middle of West Virginia. Temperatures and humidity while I was there both averaged in the mid-80's, and the sun was relentless. But the facilities were great and fun was had by all. I should give a special shout-out to all those that worked on the logistics of the Engineering Tent and those who took organizational roles, mainly Mark Maris, Chris Jones, and Phil Stahl, as well as those who helped provide the optics demos, Ezra Milby and Rick Plympton (Optimax).

My primary role was to fulfill the "Meet an engineer" requirement. The boys would come to me, and I would explain what it's like to be an optical/biomedical engineer. I would explain why I chose the path that I did, and how I prepared myself academically to get where I currently am. Many of these boys are at a point in their lives where they're starting to seriously think about these types of decisions, so it feels wonderful to get to be a "data point" for them as they consider their options. Many of these kids are very smart - I met a 12-year-old who was already writing his own iPod apps, another boy who competed in robotics competitions, and countless boys who knew answers to scientific questions that I thought were going to be challenging for them. It was both very fun and satisfying to share my experiences and this time with these boys and to help them understand what it is the field of engineering has to offer.

Sunset in the West Virginia mountains is pretty awesome

"Camp Echo" The staff quarters 

My luxury accommodations (top bunk)

Camp Echo at night 

Engineering Merit Badge Tent(s)

We had a penny crusher that would smash the Jamboree logo onto a penny 

Each scout that completed both courses we offered would have their name engraved on one of these commemorative tags for them to keep

My side of the tent - What is a professional engineer? How does the engineer's code relate to the Scout Oath and Law? Meet an engineer and learn about their job and tools. We had mechanical, industrial, chemical, optical, electrical, and all sorts of engineers on hand for the scouts to meet if they wanted.

Conversion of energy - bike pedaling to electricity to illuminating light bulbs

Ball bearings

Informative video 

Kinematics and simple machines (and making bombs with water and Alka-Seltzer)

Walkway with merit badge tents and scouts as far as you can see both directions

Demo with 5 parallel lasers and large lenses the kids would use to see the effect of lenses on light rays

Opened-up projector for the kids to explore and figure out

Laser radio demo - mp3 music modulates the intensity of a laser beam, detector converts it back to a current and sound 

Lots of water-filling stations placed around the site. 

Handicapped awareness tent. They had some great and creative activities to get the kids engaged.

Aside from being beautiful, you can see the WiFi transmitters positioned every 10 meters or so along the walkway. AT&T was a major sponsor and had cell towers in the middle of every camp and over 100 WiFi hotspots set up. Connectivity was better there than at home!

Everything there is custom, even the benches. Since the benches were metal, I think their main purpose was to burn the scouting logo onto peoples' backs... 

Beautiful man-made lakes for the aquatics badges and activities

Ziplines everywhere. No really.

Patch trading is apparently the thing to do. Money takes second fiddle at Jamboree...it's all about the patches. You see this everywhere.

2.5 mile walk back to Echo Camp from the merit badge tent. Hard to beat the view, though 

Showing the boys how to make a telescope with two lenses 

Talking about diffraction gratings. My presentation is in the background.

Hooray optics!

Saturday Night

This note is not intended to serve as an obituary or as any sort of reflection on my mother's life. It is intended to mostly serve as a resource of information for friends and possibly as a place for me to share some of my feelings surrounding these recent events. For me, sharing is cathartic.

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On the afternoon of Saturday, December 15th, only two days after she celebrated her 63rd birthday, my mom took a nap from which she never awoke. She was at home and in bed. She was happy and in relative comfort. While certainly unexpected, this has been a long time coming for those who know her. It's an emotionally complicated experience for all of us.

Let me first acknowledge that the outpouring of love from friends near and far, past and present, close and distant has been beyond words. Truly, the response to her passing has been nothing short of Christ-like. I am deeply appreciative of everyone who has had a part in the support effort for my family and me. The broad and intimate impact my mother had on so many lives is acutely apparent.

Most people that know her know she suffered from Multiple Sclerosis (MS). I believe she was diagnosed in 1974 -- that's three years after her marriage to my dad, 5 years before the birth of my sister, 8 years before I was born, and 39 years ago total. The average life expectancy of someone with this disease is 35 years after diagnosis. I'm very grateful we were fortunate to be on the longer side of this average.

She was experiencing a period of relatively good health. MS is a non-linear disease; there are periods of soothing remission interlaced with bouts of uncontrollable neurological pain. While other health issues and discomforts were mounting, I'm comforted knowing that she was enjoying a period of relative remission. However, this is the jarring aspect of her passing. Personally, I have been mentally and emotionally preparing for her passing for many years. But I always expected it to be in a traumatic event -- (hopefully single) car accident, falling down the stairs, hitting her head on something, etc. She was such a fighter; it seemed crazy to think that a peaceful passing away was imminent.

However, the more I reflect on her life and recent circumstances, the more convinced I am that the timing is ideal.

She had recently enjoyed her birthday and was genuinely appreciative and surprised by the outpouring of affection directed towards her. She had recently seen her grandchildren, and had even more recently talked on the phone with us and my sister's family. She recently found something of special sentimental significant to her (lost for a period of months/years). On her final Sunday, she stood from the pulpit at church and spoke with power and conviction, testifying of the divinity and saving grace of our Lord and Savior.

She was not a material person. She did not want things and she did not want attention. She wanted opportunities to serve. She vehemently hated the concept that people would someday have to wait on her and serve her. She never came to grips with the fact that she was "sick" and needed help. She actively looked for those who were in more need than she, others whom she could help. Just a week before her passing, my mom (who herself needed a walker or wheelchair to get around) actually fell in a parking lot while taking an older friend to the doctor, while trying to lift this friend's walker out of the trunk. My mom did not have strength in her legs to stand back up, but with the help of good Samaritans she got back on her feet and she carried on helping this good friend of hers. It didn't matter if it took her 5 minutes, 5 hours, 5 days, or 5 months to complete a task. If there was something she was able to do for someone and the only obstacle was time, she was going to do it.

I cannot express how glad I am that she was able to live her life how she wanted until the end. She never had to feel like she was a permanent "burden" on anyone else. She didn't have to reach the point of complete physical deterioration while still having her mental faculties. Most importantly to her, I believe, is that she never reached passed the point of feeling useful. She was genuinely helpful to those around her, both in conversation and in action, until her final moments. I can't help but feel that if she had to choose a way to leave this life, it wouldn't be much different than the present reality.

I am mostly sad for my children. They love her so much. Of all the grandparents, she has played and talked with them the most, and had the most active role. We had intentionally fostered as close of a relationship as possible, knowing this day would come. Naturally, this closeness makes the current events more difficult. However, I'm buoyed up by my own experience. My father's parents both passed away when I was younger than my oldest son. Their memory has lived through my parents. I look forward to sharing countless experiences I've had with "Grammy" with my kids as they get older and the situations arise. It's important to acknowledge that they still have their "Grampy" and my wife's parents too. They're very fortunate and very much loved in this respect.

I'm also sad for my wife and sister. My relationship with my mom has significantly evolved over the past ten years. I have needed her less as a mother per-se, and more as a wonderful friend who is also my mother. I absolutely cherish the memories I have of my years with her. Meanwhile, she had become like a mother to my wife and, along with my sister, shared a special bond from mother-to-mother. Whereas I feel the change in my relationship with my mom over time has eased the grief of her passing, the change in my wife and sister's relationship may have made the event more acute.

I feel for my father. I've looked at my wife with new eyes the past two days. I can only imagine the pain of looking at her pillow, knowing that her head will never again rest there next to me.

As for me, I'm truly, honestly happy for her. Unless you've been there, you cannot comprehend what it is like to want to do so much, to be so mentally capable but feel so horribly trapped by a physical body that just won't cooperate. More-so than not cooperate, a body that oftentimes fights back. I read a description of cancer once that I think is applicable here. The author spoke of the battle with the disease as being like a bare-knuckle street fight, except where your opponent gets to set the rules and you know you can't win.

To understand my joy, you have to understand our faith. You have to understand that this life is but a short moment in the eternal timeline. While grieving is natural, it's supremely comforting knowing there's little reason to have regrets concerning the truly important matters, like how much she was loved or what kind of an impact she had. She is still alive in spirit. She's fully aware of our love for her. She's fully aware of all those things that are of true importance. She's aware of the impact she has had.

She is finally rid of that terrible mortal tabernacle and can finally enjoy some peace. I'm sure she is also sad to be apart for this time and anxiously awaits the grand reunion. In some ways, I feel like I did when my dad would leave for a long business trip when I was a little child. I knew he would come back someday, but it seemed like such a long time. I have no doubt of our eventual reunion. For me, this is hardly even faith -- it’s knowledge.

The response of friends has truly been a testament to her lasting impact and faith. She truly was a force for good in this life, and undoubtedly still is in the life hereafter.

Please Vote...Independently

My Dear Friends,

I truly don't care who gets your vote this upcoming election and I sincerely hope you vote, no matter the candidate you support. However, as the rhetoric gets more fierce and the mud slings even harder, I would simply encourage you to look out for a few techniques commonly used by campaigns to stir up emotions and by media outlets to sensationalize the stories and drum up viewership. I have three items for your consideration: context, spin, and straw man.

Here is a fictional scenario: Bob says "It's an unfortunate truth that fat people must die, on average, younger than the average population because they are more susceptible to many diseases." Jack then prints a large poster and starts an ad campaign saying "Bob is a terrible person because he said 'fat people must die!' More than 50% of the country is overweight, and he thinks you all should die!" This campaign by Jack is obviously taking Bob's words out of context. 

Jack could also say "Bob doesn't believe in science or modern medicine because he believes that it's inevitible that overweight people will always be doomed to die younger than the rest of the population." Jack is putting a spin on the quote here. Taking words out of context removes the original meaning of the phrase. Putting a spin on a quote adds additional meaning to a phrase, which may or may not have been intended. 

Jack could then start asking the question "Do you think we would be better off as a society if we turned out backs on science and killed off all overweight people? If not, than vote for me!" Jack is essentially running against an imaginary opponent at this point, asking people to decide between himself or someone who doesn't believe in science at all and wants to kill fat people. This other person doesn't exist. A straw man argument can be thought as taking an irrational or completely outrageous position that most sensible people will not agree with that is superficially related to your opponent's position, and project it as your opponent. It's very easy to build momentum against this opponent, being that his position is ridiculous.

Now let's look at some real examples.

Context:
"You didn't build that"
"I like to fire people"
"I'm not concerned about the poor"

Spin:
"My opponent thinks that all people on welfare are lazy"
"My opponent has no problem with growing the welfare state"

Straw Man
"Do you think America is better off as a society where only the top 1% have opportunities?"
"Who wants to have a communist society and become like Cuba?"

My plea to you -- if you're getting all riled up, please remember it's by design. Stop letting campaigns and media outlets tell you what to think and how to vote. Take the time to read the trascripts and watch the videos. Most importantly, think for yourselves.

For Once I Have A Good Reason

Why my skating was terrible today. Lame -- only got 1.5 shifts in today.

This Is What Dads Are For

Ruthie likes to squat while reading books. This is what happens when she reads a book right after getting out of the shower before we put a diaper on her.

"Mommy daddy poo poo! Poo poo on floor!"

Lost, Now Found

Sometimes it's nice having sub-zero temperatures and deep snow for days on end...like when you need to retrace your steps over rarely-traveled terrain a day after losing your keys.

I was running to catch the bus the day before when the keys popped out of my pocket...you can see how far apart my steps were.