When’s the last time you had an
ORDINARY DAY
. . .When’s the last time
you didn’t notice that an
ORDINARY DAY
was more
EXTRAORDINARY
than you
r e c o g n i z e d. . .
WHEN’S THE LAST TIME
YOU WILL FAIL TO NOTICE
THAT IT IS ALL
E X T R A O R D I N A R Y
A Prayer’s PRAYER
I’ve always been a Mary Oliver fan
but I’ll also admit that I’ve read much more of her
now that she’s dead
than when she was alive
I suppose which not only makes her
not only more Alive
than ALIVE
but still doing
what she did the best
(and still is)
S H A R E
As I page
through this Anthology
I often have the same feeling
that I have when I heard her voice
reading this poem
with a resounding
E C H O I N G
of when you need a prayer
notice that nothing all around you
is miraculously short of that
with the worldly unspoken invitation:
WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE A PRAYER
B E
O N E
(The only true prayer you’ll ever need
is the one you are)
An Original Caring Catalyst
Look familiar. . .
Even remotely aware of him. . .
The following might not be much more of a clue
to the World
or even to a select few:
On July 1, 2021, Rev. Dr. Roger Raymond Fischer, of Washington, was taken by God’s twin Angels, Goodness and Mercy, who came to pick Roger up, and they did. So God wrapped his arms around Roger and said, “Well done Good and Faithful Servant.” His was a life well done. Born June 1, 1941, in Washington, he was the son of Raymond and Louise Gartley Fischer.
Roger was a 1959 graduate of Washington High School. While in college, Roger worked as an American Red Cross, YMCA life guard and saving and swimming instructor. Roger received a Bachelor of Arts in Mathematics and Physics from Washington and Jefferson College in 1963. He received a Master’s Degree with Honors from the Lutheran Seminary at Gettysburg in 1991. In 1998, he was granted a Doctor of Ministry Degree from the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary as the author of “Christian Advocacy and the Local Congregation.” Roger was ordained January 13, 1990, in First Lutheran Church, Washington. He served numerous churches in Southwestern Pennsylvania and West Virginia. The last congregations that he served were Calvary Lutheran in Scenery Hill, Buena Vista Presbyterian and Hyland Brotheran.
While working as a research engineer for Jones and Laughlin Steel, Roger was elected to the Pennsylvania House of Representatives from the 47th District, serving from 1966 to his retirement in 1988. At age 25 he was one of the youngest members to serve in the history of the Pennsylvania General Assembly, serving also as Chairman of the House Education Committee and on the State Board of Education. Roger served for nine terms as President of the Association of Retired Pennsylvania House of Representatives and Senate Members. He was elected to the Washington School Board in 1965 and inducted into the Pennsylvania Voter Hall of Fame for voting in every primary and general election since 1962.
Commissioned in 1966, Roger served as a Lieutenant Colonel U.S. Air Force Reserve. He was a member of the American Legion Post 175, 40 et 8, Sons of the American Revolution, and Sons of the American Revolution Chaplain. He was a Boy Scout merit badge counselor and a member of the Order of the Arrow. Roger was also a member of the Washington Lodge No, 164 Free & Accepted Masons, Washington Royal Arch Chapter No. 150, Jacques DeMolay Commandery No. 3 Knights Templar, and Noble of the Syria Shrine.
Roger enjoyed a lifetime of sports and fitness as demonstrated by becoming a two time finisher of the Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii. Additionally, he ran many other triathlons and marathons including Boston (four times), New York (four times), Pittsburgh, Honolulu and Philadelphia. At age 74, Roger completed the Disney World Marathon. He was a member of the Pennsylvania Council on Physical Fitness and was founder and race director of the “Washington Express” 10K run. In 2008, he bicycled across America in sections. Roger was inducted in Washington-Greene Chapter of the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame and was unanimously elected to the Executive Committee. Roger was a life member of the Appalachian Trail Club, Keystone Trail Association, Warrior’s Trail Association and the Maine Appalachian Trail Club. Across 32 years, hiking in sections, Roger completed the entire 2,174.1 mile Appalachian Trail on September 17, 2004.
In 1998, Roger received an Honorary Doctor of Divinity from Washington and Jefferson College and delivered the Baccalaureate sermon for his son Steven’s commencement. In 1994, Roger delivered the main address for W&J’s Honors Convocation.
Roger treasured his time with his family. He enjoyed world traveling with his wife Kitty to places such as Europe, South Africa, Australia, Tahiti and China. He was very happy to have visited all the continents except Antarctica.
Roger is survived by Catherine “Kitty” Trettel Fischer, his wife of 48 years; two sons, Roger Raymond II (Marcia) and Steven Gregory (Heather); and a daughter, Catherine “Katy” (John) Herold; and five grandchildren, Abigail, John “Jack” and Maxwell Fischer, and Elijah and Ezekiel Herold; and a brother, Terry.
Obituaries are almost the Charlie Brown teacher of the newspaper or what’s left of them. They are the Wawa Wawa Wawa summations of Someone’s life. At best, they provide a summary of how a person was; what they leave behind, and specifically who is most affected because of their death. But make no mistake, there’s much, very much that they leave out.
Roger’s obituary gave no smidgen of a hint of all of the lives he Touched, specifically mine. I’ve heard it said that when we are born each of us are given a fingerprint which is distinctive to ourselves; it’s a fingerprint that no one else has or can ever have so that we can make an imprint on other lives that no one else can or ever will. Roger more than did that for, TO ME!
I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know Roger; but specifically he was a Sunday school teacher of mine in seventh and eighth grade and also taught our Catechism class at First Lutheran Church in Washington, Pennsylvania. It was there that I remember one Saturday morning when I was not allowed to go to basketball practice because I had to go to Catechism class at 9 o’clock in the morning and I literally erupted in the class, complaining about how stupid this was and how much I did not want to be there and how I really HATED the Church; ANY CHURCH! Even though there was about 14 or 15 in the class, Roger treating me like I was the only one that was there that day, at that moment and he didn’t react; he responded. The fact he congratulated me and told me how brave it was for me to speak my truth was huge and affirming. And then, with one simple question, he convicted, changed my life path:
“WHY DON’T YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?”
Which made me irrupt even further as if you could reload a fire crackers it was already burning hot.
“DO SOMETHING,!” I yelled. “I’M JUST 13 YEARS OLD! WHAT CAN I DO?”
And again, in pure Roger fashion, he replied back as if I was the only person there, the only person in the World that had his ear, his attention:
“ANOTHER GOOD POINT, CHARLIE, (something I hated anyone to call me) BUT IT HAS BEEN MY EXPERIENCE IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE SOMETHING, YOU DON’T COMPLAIN ABOUT IT FROM THE OUTSIDE, YOU GO INSIDE AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”
B U S T E D
and even more
C O N V I C T E D
Up until that point when people would ask me, “what are you gonna do when you grow up?” I would, without hesitation answer, I was going to be a professional basketball player and I was going to be a teacher and a coach but never, no way ever, EVER a minister.
Now countless times over the past nearly 50 years when people ask me why did you become a minister, they kind of wait for me to give him this great spiritual, unbelievable mountaintop experience testimony, and instead I tell them it’s because I hate the church and then I tell them the story about Roger and me one Saturday morning at a Catechism class that I didn’t want to be at, but now ever so grateful that I attended that day.
We kept in touch throughout the years and he knew the personal impact of that story because I made sure that I told him and with every chance that I got and profusely thanked him and the times I blamed him for what he did to me by making me go into the ministry. He told me never to expect an apology and I told him I wasn’t asking for one.
So after all the Wawa Wawa Wawa Wawa–ing of a Charlie Brown teacher during this blog, you may still not know personally Roger Raymond Fisher, or even care that much, but mine is a shore his Tsunami has radically wrecked that made it impossible to rebuild in a way my imagination could ever conjure up; it’s caused severely significant after shocks that have created tidal waves in me that have touched countless other shores, Roger had no understanding or fathoming; still are. Little did I know that Roger was A Caring Catalyst long before I knew what one was, let alone striving to be a better one each day. There’s only five true words that are left to be said by me. But oh my, are they most sincere:
THANK YOU;
SEE YOU LATER
WAWAWA THAT, Charlie
A Dad’s DAD
Dick Hoyt died on March 17 and yet he’s never been more alive. . .
WHO???
Who exactly. . .
I never met Mr Hoyt
but I read/heard about him years ago
when I was still running marathons
at a pretty good clip
and an even better speed
but nothing like
Dick Hoyt
did. . .
STRONGEST DAD IN THE WORLD
RICK REILLY is a great writer and a very frequent contributor to SPORTS ILLUSTRATED and I not only bow to his craft but instead of even trying to rephrase or even poorly plagiarize him, I thought I’d share what he had to say but I deeply felt:
I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.
But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.
Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars–all in the same day.
Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?
And what has Rick done for his father? Not much–except save his life.
This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.
“He’ll be a vegetable the rest of his life,” Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. “Put him in an institution.”
But the Hoyts weren’t buying it. They noticed the way Rick’s eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. “No way,” Dick says he was told. “There’s nothing going on in his brain.“
“Tell him a joke,” Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.
Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? “Go Bruins!” And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, “Dad, I want to do that.”
Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described “porker” who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. “Then it was me who was handicapped,” Dick says. “I was sore for two weeks.”
That day changed Rick’s life. “Dad,” he typed, “when we were running, it felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”
And that sentence changed Dick’s life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.
“No way,” Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren’t quite a single runner, and they weren’t quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.
Then somebody said, “Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?”
How’s a guy who never learned to swim and hadn’t ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.
Now they’ve done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don’t you think?
Hey, Dick, why not see how you’d do on your own? “No way,” he says. Dick does it purely for “the awesome feeling” he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.
This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992–only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don’t keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.
“No question about it,” Rick types. “My dad is the Father of the Century.”
And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. “If you hadn’t been in such great shape,” one doctor told him, “you probably would’ve died 15 years ago.”
So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other’s life.
Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father’s Day
That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.
“The thing I’d most like,” Rick types, “is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.”
To see a photo gallery of Dick and Rick Hoyt, go to SI.com/teamhoyt. If you have a comment for Rick Reilly, send it to reilly@siletters.com.
“Dad, when we were running, it felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”
Dick Hoyt gives his son that feeling as often as he can.
Kind of gives
FATHER’S DAY
a whole new meaning, huh. . .
M A Y B E
m a y b e
all those years
all those races
all those marathons
all those Ironmen Triathlons
he wasn’t pushing his son, Rick so much
as he was pushing me
and anyone else who took notice
TO BE A NO LIMIT
d a d
TO BE A NO LIMIT
p e r s o n
TO BE
what it took
when it took
how it took
TO BE
what was truly needed
instead of merely
wanted. . .
KAZE NO DENWA (Phone of the Wind)
“Hello. If you’re out there, please listen to me.” On a hill overlooking the ocean in Otsuchi Town in northeastern Japan is a phone booth known as the “Telephone of the Wind.” It is connected to nowhere, but people come to “call” family members lost during the tsunami of the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake. Many visit the phone booth including a mother and 3 children who have lost their father. This documentary looks at the unique role that this phone is playing in helping the grieving process of many.
KIND OF CHILLING, huh. . . ?
QUESTION:
WHO WOULD YOU CALL
on the Wind Phone
Kaze no denwa (phone of the wind)
curling whispers from the depths of the earth
carried by the wind
through every crack and crevice
finally reaching my ear
i’ve missed your smile
your warm glow
gentle touches
please come back to me
i want to hear your voice again.
in a little town
on the coastline of Japan
stands a white phone booth
in a small backyard
in the booth is a telephone
rotary, the clicking numbers
line going nowhere
but the wind carries words
of the lost loved to us
so we can speak to them again
“grandpa, are you well?”
“i won a prize in school today!”
“is it cold over there?”
maybe i can’t hear your voice
for real again
but
if for one instant
i could say “i love you”
i’d be happy.
In Otsuchi, Japan, there is a telephone booth with a rotary phone with an unconnected phone line. It was built by Itaru Sasaki after his cousin died in 2010 as a way to talk to him and have closure. Many from Otsuchi use the phone to talk to loved ones lost in the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. Some come for one long talk to say things they could not, and some regularly visit to talk to the deceased about everyday things. It’s become a way to connect to the past and the one’s they’ve lost, since many Japanese do not usually tell people that they love them often to their face. It’s a way to lay regrets to rest. Sasaki said that he wanted the line to not connect to anything, so that his words would be carried on the wind to his cousin. And so, the wind phone remains.
. . .R E M A I N S
to let us know that
L O V E
is the one thing
IN AND OUT OF THIS WORLD
that CONNECTS US
and with or without a phone
it’s the clearest connection
you’ll ever experience. . .
Now,
about THAT Call. . .
get to dialing
YOUR MIDNIGHT LIBRARY
The Pandemic hasn’t been all BAD. . .
BECAUSE IT HAS GIVEN ME MORE OPPORTUNITIES TO
R E A D
A voracious reader
from the even before I could read
I have loved books
and have loved passing on my
LOVE OF BOOKS
from the very first one
I can ever remember
having
To the one
I just started last night
And the
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
so many in between. . .
which brings me to the opening pages of:
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm:
One of the reasons I’ve always loved reading
is because it
has inspired
WRITING
SPEAKING
FREE-THINKING
that I have no
ON/OFF
Switch
(and one I’m not seeking or ever hoping to find). . .
It’s made my
EYES, HEAR
NOSE, TASTE
EARS, SEE
IMAGINATION, FANTASIZE
IT HAS MADE ME
M E
and my idea of a perfect death
is having
FAMILY
FRIENDS
BOOKS
surrounding me. . .
It allows me
WONDER
as I
WANDER
and to
P O N D E R
even now
AM I MORE
IF/BUT
or
CAN/WILL
KIND OF A PERSON. . .
Y O U ?
So here’s the
D E A L
We have a Pen in our hands
with Blank pages before us
waiting not just for a written word
or a secret message
but that one single sentence
that can only come from
Y O U
THE WORLD
desperately needs to not have written
but
specifically
intentionally
purposely
intimately
R E A D
(NO PANDEMIC NECESSARY)
DON’T LOVE
There really is a guarantee. . .
It’s a lockdown
full proof
100% sealed shut case:
You will never hurt
You will never shed a tear
You will never have a sense of loss
You will never have a moment of sadness
And to get this full proof guarantee
it’s not what you have to do
it’s what you don’t have to do
and it really is this simple:
DON’T LOVE
Don’t commit
Don’t become vulnerable enough to share your innermost self
Don’t share ever with any expectation of any reward or gift in return
Don’t be available accessible and accountable. . .
And the guarantee is yours
you will not hurt
you will not grieve
you will not experience a sense of loss
you’ll never have saltiest of tears
All of this
and probably a lot more
just because you
DON’T LOVE
Deal?
Wanna shake on it?
Get an ironclad triple your moneyback guarantee
Just
DON’T LOVE
And you too
ladies and gentlemen
can have an
UNBREAKABLE HEART
It may not beat the same
but it won’t be broken,
either. . .
FRIEND
OUR FRIEND tells the inspiring and extraordinary true story of the Teague family—journalist Matt (Casey Affleck), his vibrant wife Nicole (Dakota Johnson) and their two young daughters—and how their lives are upended by Nicole’s heartbreaking diagnosis of terminal cancer. As Matt’s responsibilities as caretaker and parent become increasingly overwhelming, the couple’s best friend Dane Faucheux (Jason Segel) offers to come and help out. As Dane puts his life on hold to stay with his friends, the impact of this life altering decision proves greater and more profound than anyone could have imagined. . .
S H O C K E R!!!!
I love the
gots-to-have-a-box-of-tissues-to-watch-this-movie
Kind of movies
but the ones that require the most tissues
are the ones who remind me
not who I could be,
b u t
WHO I COULD BE MORE OF
(KIND OF LIKE)
Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
The best kind of a movie based on a true story is the
THE ONE YOU’RE STILL MAKING. . .
QUIET ON THE SET.
READY.
ACTION.
CUT.
THAT’S A (ongoing) WRAP
It’s time to be WHO YOU ARE for another,
not who you were
or who you’re going to be
but just simply,
beautifully who you are:
A FRIEND
A Caring Catalyst
DESIDERATA
DESIDERATA
. . .Latin for
THINGS TO BE DESIRED
is a 1920’s Max Ehrmann poem
brought back to Life
and Music in 1971
by Les Crane
and even though the
poem is over 101 years old
and the song is 50 years old
it could have not be more
r e l e v a n t
today than when it was first written
or brought to music
because
NOW
as
THEN
and most likely
FOREVER
we constantly need reminding
You matter.
You’re important.
You’re loved.
Your presence on this earth
at this very moment
makes a difference
whether you see it or not.
A N D
so does every single person
you know
or meet
hate
or love
. . .THE BIG QUESTION
“When are you going to act like it?”
isn’t as important as the
GREATER ANSWER
the World is desperately waiting to
E X P E R I E N C E. . .
YOU ARE A CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE
NO LESS THAN THE TREES OR STARS
YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO BE HERE
(and so does everyone else)
the next time
you refuse to sing
because you’ll never
fill a stadium
or decline the joy of dance
for fear of looking
ridiculous
or you resist risking
the new adventure
because you’re
not entirely ready or
you dim your shine
because you’re not
completely healed and whole
the next time
you hold yourself suspect
because you’re not
entirely qualified
just remember
a bird doesn’t sing
because it’s talented
a bird sings because
it has a song
the moon doesn’t only shine
when it’s whole
it can show up with
a single sliver of itself
and still light an entire
night sky
show up. sing. shine.
the world needs you
as you are.
© Angi Sullins – www.AngiSullins.com
(Thank you, Lynne Maragliano)
YOU, The Village
OVER ONE YEAR LATER
. . .We are literally living in some severely surreal times. . .
STILL
well past 365 days later
The World just doesn’t merely seem to be rocked on it’s axis
or upside down
But actually less Round than we previously thought. . .
and whatever it was we thought we knew
almost seems
myth-like
to what we’re feeling. . .
L I K E :
IT
TAKES
A VILLAGE
and not that it’s just a nice cliche
IT HAS NEW MEANING
We have all heard it said it takes a village to raise a child. . .
but what about an ADULT?
What’s it take to not so much raise but
CARE FOR
AN ADULT. . . ?
Because of our continuing
MASKING
PHYSICAL DISTANCING
HAND SCRUBBING
VACINNATING
We’ve never been less of a Village
than right now,
AND THEN AGAIN. . .
never more than
A Village
OF ONE
than NOW. . .
Who could have ever imagined,
even with all of our safety measures
that one person could be a Village. . .
that YOU are a Village?
It is true isn’t it. . .
Y O U
The Village
. . .How is that even possible?
Because now more than ever you are re-defining
overcoming the myth
you have lived with all of your life
The fib that’s been told to us
ever since we were very
very small
the lie that might’ve been the first lie
we ever heard:
That you have a purpose
That you have a reason
That you have a destiny
That you have a meaning. . .
T O D A Y
especially today
with what’s going on all around us
all that’s grumbling loudly within us
where our World feels like it has been
rolled down a steep hill
heading quickly for a cliff
of a dark unknown return
stumbling and rumbling out of place;
B U T
now more than
our ever
we are eerily discovering
that we were born for
THIS TIME
in THIS PLACE
for THIS MOMENT
THIS NOW. . .
And it’s not to be
For a Purpose
For a Meaning
For a Reason
For a Destiny. . .
It’s truly to be
A Village
YOU,
The Village
. . .because now more than ever
we have never been more
P L U R A L
than Who we are in right now. . .
Now more than ever
Y O U
are not just a Person
A Woman
A Mom
A Man
A Dad
A Partner
A Significant Other
A Uncle
A Aunt
A Grandfather
A Grandmother
You’re not just what your vocation says you are
you are all of those roles
all of those characters
wrapped up in one. . .
You are a walking
You are a talking
You are a living
You are a giving
V I L L A G E
YOU,
The Village
Now the most ultimate question of all
. . .especially for this new
N O W
is just what kind of a
Village are you. . . ?
Can you even be found on a map
Seen from a Satellite from way above;
Are you inclusive
Are you exclusive
Do you draw circles and include everybody
or are you a line drawer in the sand
that points as it emphasizes
you
You
and YOU
are IN
and
You
You
and most especially
Y O U
are out?
YOU,
The Village
are living in an age where the temporary feels like the permanent
but it most assuredly isn’t. . .
The new
NEW
is born in you
not just once
or once in a while
or even once a day
but every single moment. . .
And now
N O W
proves to us that it always has been this way
but never as magnified
as it is at this very
I N S T A N T
We have long heard the question
that determines whether or not we are
Optimists or Pessimists :
Is the glass half full or half empty?
N O W
Maybe another way to ask this question
Is this
NOW
Happening to us
or
HAPPENING
For Us. . .
It’s no longer
WHAT FILLS YOUR GLASS
b u t
WHAT EMPTY’S IT
(or WHO). . . ?
It’s not really a question to answer with your mouth
but your Actions;
so how live you. . .
not what say YOU
HOW LIVE YOU
YOU ARE A VILLAGE
To know it is one thing.
To be it is another.
But this
N O W
means to share it
is
the ultimate thing
. . .and then never let the
l o v i n g
stop from overflowing
from one
to another
until this
S E T T L E M E N T
becomes
YOU-NIVERASL
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