By Fred Prout
I’ve been quiet for a while. Among other reasons, I fell in love. Yeah, that too, but I also fell in love with last year’s Thanksgiving Story. I’ve tried and tried to put pen to paper but, I was so moved by the events chronicled in John Tucker’s story, nothing I tried to say came close to the emotions I felt in the hearing, revising and telling about John Tucker and his story. Since I started my story telling, I’ve given you maybe sixty stories. Some, I’m proud to say, have been pretty damn good. A few mediocre. A couple absolute crap. For those of you who are new to my scribbles, I’m asking the gurus in charge to rerun last year’s story as a kinda prequel.
For those of you who are easily offended, now might be a good time to put this down and turn on The Price Is Right. Or maybe a NASCAR race.
This piece should be written for the anniversary of John Tucker’s death. But that’s in late November. By the time events of early November roll around, some of you may be cracking open the third case of Bud Light in celebration. Some of you might be trying to learn the words to O Canada. Very little in between. That’s the problem. There is simply no between. I’ve taken the liberty of assuming that you all are aware of what’s been happening in our country. If I have over estimated anyone, please reread the previous paragraph.
John Tucker saw a lot in his life. Some good, some bad. Most of it in the between. He bore witness to many changes. I’m sure that ,like many of us, his politics wavered from center left to center right and back again. I’m pretty sure that he never went too far from the center part. People who knew him said he was always open minded. John Tucker was a private person. No one knew him well but, in talking to a whole lot of people he interacted with, I learned a lot. There are also a lot of blanks to fill in.
John Tucker lived through a time when he was in school and his non Caucasian friends were considered three fifths of a person. He heard stories about aunts, uncles and cousins being incinerated like trash. Not human. Garbage.
As a child John Tucker watched TV as the cowboys massacred the Indians. Guns versus bow and arrows. As an adult, his best friend was an Ojibwa Indian. He didn’t find it entertaining.
John Tucker lived in a time when Polio, measles and other diseases were eradicated. Gone forever. Wiped out. And he watched helplessly as they started coming back. John Tucker lived through the most recent scourge. Covid. He waived his right to inflict pain, suffering and death to others by doing what he was told.And he believed he was right. Others decided to listen to the naysayers. They got sick and maybe passed the virus on to others. Maybe their own children. Because someone said they had the right to do so.
John Tucker lived in a time when school children were shot and killed en masse. He lived in a time when school children did the shooting. A time when it was perfectly acceptable to provide the necessary equipment to cause these tragedies. John Tucker felt very pained by this because he also was a killer. Licensed and trained by his government. Before they gave him a medal and kicked him to the curb. Before he got up and became a hero to many of us. A large part of our lives.
John Tucker lived through a time when, in fact, our country was truly United. Against a common enemy. It was us versus them. Them being easily identified as the bad guys. He witnessed the beginning of us versus us. Divisions so deep as to seem insurmountable. He applauded when a wall came down. He watched as many of his countrymen begged for a wall to be put up. He lived in a time when we voted for people to serve us, not themselves.
We, as what we call the Human Race, have always been divided. Us versus them. Rich versus poor. Romans versus Christians. Jews versus Muslims. Them versus us. Black versus white. Extremist versus extremist. You and I caught in the middle. In the between. We try to live our lives and do the right thing. We try to teach our children to do the same. All the while, being bombarded with distorted words and ideas that cause hate and confusion. And more hate. And more division.
What can be done? I don’t really know. But maybe we can try. Personally, I am in a relationship with someone who has some values and thoughts that are diametrically opposed to mine. We understood this in the beginning and decided that we would respect each other’s views. That neither of us had to be right. Or wrong.That we would accept each other as we are and love each other for who we are. Maybe we all, one by one, can have a conversation with someone we disagree with and just talk. Let them know that you don’t agree with all they stand for, but neither of you is wrong. Or right. Just different. How could it hurt. Maybe if someone would just start. One conversation at a time. What do you think? Wanna talk?
and proper procedures. The Propane Education and Research Council offers helpful safety tips and reminders at the link below:
To lighten up the cold, dreary days here at Timber Valley, we want you to meet Henrietta Hedgehog, Timber Valley SKP Park of Oregon’s Office mascot. She is made from pinecones. Henrietta has been a resident of the Office for a few years.