Merry Christmas, dear ones! 12/14/01
I hope this year has been, overall, a good one for you and yours, the horrors of 9-11 notwithstanding.
It’s been a rather amazing year for Rob and me. Our biggest news, I suppose, is that
Emily married her longtime sweetheart, Farhang Erfani on July 22.
(Coincidentally, our 29th anniversary.)
An arboretum near their home in Philadelphia provided a beautiful setting,
and we had family, his, hers, and ours, in happy abundance. Good party,
beautiful bride, and I never saw a prouder-looking groom. Farhang has
finished his coursework for his doctorate, and following his preliminary
exams this spring, will begin work in earnest on his dissertation. He
continues a busy schedule of teaching and research, with lots of
publications and speaking engagements on obscure aspects of continental
philosophy. Emily is now working for a company (
Bert’s
still in Lansing, where Alison, his beloved, is working on her doctorate in
Philosophy as well, partway through her second year there, serving as a TA in
Medical Ethics. Bert’s still doing relatively short-term contract assignments
as a computer network administrator. He’s just begun a nine-month gig for the
State of Michigan, and has a 4-block walk to work from his 7th floor aerie
overlooking the state Capitol.
It was the year for weddings. A number of our favorite former exchange students were also hitched this year, and we were fortunate enough to get to go to Eve’s wedding in France and Hannah’s in England. We’re glad we got Emily married off before we learned what a REAL wedding looks like. Big churches bedecked with flowers, hundreds of beautiful people, glorious choral and instrumental music, receptions in castles, fabulous 9-course dinners, fine wines, and parties that went on for days— They were both absolutely unforgettable experiences as guests, but we’re mighty relieved not to have been the hosts! (We’re sorry we missed out on Rogério’s wedding in Brazil, especially after we saw the photos. Apparently it was a good party!)
Another
good experience: Rob and I spent nearly 2 weeks late last May in White Horse,
middle-of-absolutely-nowhere, SD, with a group from our church, helping the
Cheyenne River Sioux build a guild hall for their tiny Episcopal mission
church. The 20 or so of us, starting from an unprepared site, managed to
completely finish a 5000 square foot building in ten L-O-N-G days. Fascinating culture, lovely, if desolate scenery,
and good people.
We also spent the traditional and always good fun week with each of our families, gulf-front Dauphin Island with mine, and Cape Cod this year with his, soaking up sun and gossip.
We
thought that would about do it for one year’s travel, but soon after the World
Trade Center attack, we learned of the work going on at St. Paul’s Chapel,
under the direction of our old friend, Lyndon Harris, who is now the Chaplain
there. St. Paul’s is just a hundred yards or so from the still-smoking pit that
is Ground Zero. Incredibly, this 235-year-old church was completely untouched
by the blast. It has become a sanctuary for the workers at the site. Volunteers
at the church serve thousands of meals, hand out warm socks, ear plugs, and
aspirin by the dozens, and lots of coffee, 24 hours a day. Lyndon’s former
parishioners here in Spartanburg wanted to lend a hand, and he was only too
glad to find work for us. Rob went up with 27 other members of the South
Carolina State Guard in order to cover the week of Thanksgiving, and I tagged
along as “war correspondent.” Rob and I
took the night shift, working from 7pm to about 8am for 6 nights. It was a
deeply moving experience. The appalling extent of the damage illuminated by
high intensity lights, the pervasive smell of wet ash, and the constant noise
of demolition work were unforgettable. We were impressed by the determination
and unity of purpose of those who were there, the police, firemen, clergy,
construction workers in “the Pile”, and the chapel volunteers. And we were
astounded by the intense gratitude of the people of New York, for what were
rather minor contributions on our part. The transformation of what had been
almost a museum church was remarkable. (See slide shows at www.saintpaulschapel.org) Not only
were there tables with food and coffee and clothing, and clergy and counselors
available, but also there were practitioners of hands-on healing—chiropractors,
podiatrists, and massage therapists were on hand 24/7, too. All this activity,
and yet it still remained a refuge, a quiet place to say a prayer, regather
one’s wits, take a nap, listen to the daily recitals by world-class musicians,
or talk with a friend. Perhaps most significant to me was how much that elegant
and austere church was enlivened by hundreds of letters, drawings, banners and
posters for firemen, cops, and emergency workers from children from around the
world. That made it resoundingly clear that at least the kids of this country
realized what it means to be a hero.
We reissue the annual invitation, in hopes that you’ll think of an excuse to visit us in Spartanburg. Despite above evidence to the contrary, we’re usually home. Really. We’d truly love to see you, and have plenty of room. The new email address is reiheld@charter.net. Phone number’s still 864-579-4657.