MN Boychoir singing the National Anthem for the Fallen Firefighters’ Memorial Service at the Minnesota State Capitol Mall September 27. Credit: Terry Gips
By Alliance President Terry Gips
I’m often touched, inspired and internally transformed by a person’s story overcoming challenges or rising up to go beyond. They not only make my day but give me hope for humanity.
What happens when I’m touched by another…and another…and another? Somehow, I feel like I’m in the presence of God, angels and possibility. THIS is the world I want to live in. These are the ways I want to be. So, I want to share four short stories that uplifted me and point towards simple steps we can all take to help overcome uncivil wars that plague us. But first, a slight diversion.
How Three Strikes and Funerals Affect Me
Along the path of my week of four inspiring stories, I had two two insights. One is the polar opposite and the other is about death. I promise, the second isn’t bad so please read on.
The polar opposite is when someone says or does something mean or disturbing, or I get hit with some type of failure or bad news. It’s not easy to recover from the blow. Then, if I get whacked by a second, it really throws me. But if there’s a third, I’m devastated. I lose hope and sink faster than a rock into the depths of despondency. The world goes dark and my normally hopeful disposition disappears.
I know the only way out of that hole is to disentangle the overwhelming threesome so I have three discrete challenges. Just doing that allows me to breathe again. It doesn’t solve the problem of what I’m facing and feeling, but it allows me to return empathy to myself, give myself a hug and begin engaging both my left and right brains in unleashing their potent powers to face each of them separately.
They may be big and loom larger than life, but I know I’ve faced bigger ones and believe there’s always a solution or an acceptance of a harsh truth that I must face for each. And I somehow recover to live another day, even return to Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s admonition of seeing the world with “radical amazement.”
The second is about funerals. I know it may seem odd but I love going to funerals. What’s wrong with me you ask? What do you get out of one of the saddest of human events? Inspiration. And connection.
Yes, funerals are my opportunity to get to know the stories, secrets, struggles and successes that people have had. In every funeral I discover insights about how to live better. The person may no longer be on this plane, but they become part of me, a forever reminder of new possibilities for seeing and being. And I finally feel like I know them on a new level. Ironically, in death they do not part but become an even deeper relation.
The only thing I regret about the entire experience is that I could not know all of that about them when they were alive, for them to be celebrated and acknowledged, and for me to know them on a deeper level and to explore the secrets to their way of living.
So, with that context, on to the stories that I hope will touch and transform you as they do me.
Lessons for Us All from the Fallen Firefighters Memorial
One of my favorite and saddest events every year is attending the Fallen Firefighters Memorial as my sons and their MN Boychoir sing the National Anthem at the start. I’ll say that when I was young I always wanted to be a firefighter and slide down the pole to rush off to save people’s lives and put out fires.
So, it’s always deeply moving to go to the south end of the MN State Capitol Grounds to attend this event at the touching metal structure featuring a firefighter climbing a ladder to save a life, yet surrounded by bars representing every firefighter who sacrificed their life doing so. I’m crying as I write this. There are heroes and sheroes who do that every day, willing to rush in to save us, while they risk giving up their own.
Here’s the catch. They don’t ask if we’re Democrats, Republicans or Independents, if we’re rich or poor, White, Black, Brown or Whatever Color of the Rainbow, good or bad. They put their life on the line EVERY time for us. This begs the question: Why can’t we do that with each other? Why can’t we overcome our uncivil wars and simply serve, be kind and co-create the world we so seek?
Even though I know the cadence of the flow, each year takes me to a new, higher level of connection. This year I cried profusely three times.
The first was after the large private pre-ceremony took place in front of the monument on the lawn side of the Capitol as families who’ve lost a firefighter form a large circle where a flag is placed to remember every firefighter who’s ever been lost. They will never be forgotten.
A silent procession begins as the families silently file in to take their seats – the spouse, children, grandparents and other relatives, followed by firefighters of all sizes, shapes, ages and colors from around the state with their beloved Dalmatians to mourn their colleagues. It is truly heartbreaking to feel such loss and grief.
The second was when the Color Guard came in accompanied by bagpipers. We all know that sound with its drone that instantly calls forth an eternal loss. For me, on this 25th Anniversary of 9/11, it instantly takes me to the World Trade Center as firefighters rushed up more than a hundred flights of stairs to save lives, forever memorialized by Bruce Springsteen’s The Rising. I cry every time I hear it.
And the third was when my son Aaron and his MN Boychoir came in to sing, passing by the massive American flag high above us and strung between two outstretched ladder trucks. I thought about each boy and the gift of their voice for the bereaved families and the impact this solemn ceremony has on them as a reminder about serving and sacrificing. Their pure, sweet voices rose to new heights with every word of our National Anthem, framed by the flag to the left, the monument to the right and the magnificent Capitol arching above. THIS is our country. THIS is who we truly are.
Can we learn to be united not only in our grief but in our life?
An Unplanned Dinner to Remember
After returning from having an engaging, hopeful all-afternoon Alliance for Sustainability table at the DFL Environmental Action Fair in Roseville, I asked my sons if they’d like to play some Frisbee. We had a fabulous time until it was hard to see the disc as the sun set. I then began to BBQ our vegan dinner.
One of my sons asked if he could invite a friend over for dinner who I had never gotten to spend time with. I said yes and thus began an extraordinary evening.
There was an immediate bonding over delicious vegan food they had never tried before. They won my heart by liking my tempeh and proceeded to win a forever dinner invite when they loved my vegan brats, not dogs and burgers, Asian salad, various types of Kim Chi, fermented pickles and ice cream. That was followed by a wide-ranging, deep and timeless conversation that turns out went on for hours. We laughed and were uplifted by things we had never heard before.
But what touched me the most was hearing the story of my son’s friend as they navigated the challenges of being forced to follow a tough, judgmental faith, only to be saved from Confirmation being cancelled by Covid. Yes, saved by Covid’s shutdown from being required to be confirmed into a faith in which they did not believe but were forced to follow.
All of that was amidst their own undiagnosed struggles with mental health, for which they received no support from anyone. It took their lonely day-to-day battles and self-discovery to recognize their mental illness and finally find a therapist and medication. Fortunately, it worked and they were transformed.
It was a poignant, painful reminder that all of us need help and we can all step back from judgement and seek to support one another on the long, often hard, arduous and twisted journey to well-being. My son Noah addresses this in his debut album, Lost (by NoahG on all streaming platforms).
We’re all enduring troubling trauma, from personal losses to those with injustice, climate and democracy. We all need to be seen, heard and healed. And the great news is each of us can do that for another by letting go of judgement and simply smiling, listening and supporting.
I Heard It on the Radio – Pacers Making a Difference at the Twin Cities Marathon
My third experience was when I was driving back from dropping my son at St. Louis Park High School and MPR did a story about “pacers” at the Twin Cities Marathon.
To be honest, I’ve never felt a desire to do a full marathon as I don’t feel it’s the healthiest thing for a body, though I did once do the Bay-to-Breakers 10k in San Francisco with the rest of my cousin’s wedding party. It was funny because by the time our wave finally stepped up to the start line near the end of the 40,000 runners, the first runners had already crossed the finish line.
So, when I lived in Minneapolis near the TC Marathon route, I did go out early in the morning to cheer on the wheelchair racers, followed by the elites and finally my friends. But little did I know about “pacers”, those experienced marathoners who run alongside people who may be running it for the first time or have a personal goal of 4:15 or just hopes of finishing the race.
I was deeply moved hearing MPR’s interviews with these pacers who run alongside people on the grueling 26-mile course just to support them in achieving their goal. The pacers’ constant refrain was how much more meaningful it is to help someone in overcoming their challenges and accomplishing their goals than simply achieving a great time for themselves. That selflessness and desire to support another in fulfilling a life-long dream is so inspiring for me. We get more by helping others than just helping ourselves. We can be bigger and have more meaning. THAT’s truly hopeful.
Yes, each of us can help another cross the finish line in life. And I loved hearing that the pacers loved then meeting the runner’s family at the end and experiencing a deep bond. A big world of strangers suddenly is much smaller and more intimate, without regard to all the divisions we too often succumb to.
A Surprising, Long-Awaited Meeting on the Bike Path – The Gift of Connection and Inspiration
My final story is a chance meeting on my daily bike path. I pass by and greet her nearly every day — rain, snow, sleet or shine – as I bike alongside my nearly 15-year-old Teddy the Terrier mix shelter dog on our two-mile ride along the beautiful Cedar Lake Trail commuter bike path between Minneapolis and Minnetonka. She’s a devoted, always positive and friendly white-haired walker. But I’m usually in too much of a rush to get back for my next meeting than to stop and connect.
Today was different. Teddy stopped to do his business just as we were approaching the woman. We said our normal warm greetings but she walked over to us. At first it was small talk. She is 81-year old Norma Heuer and I’m Terry and Teddy, TnT. Yes, it is a cool day and she even saw frost on her senior care facility’s roof-top. Yes, she was enduring some challenges with one of her knees following a double knee replacement six months ago.
The conversation went to a new level as she shared that she sleeps with her window open and seeks to use only minimal heat in the winter and forgoes air conditioning in the summer (except one hot, steamy day this year!). How I asked? “I use a big fan. In fact, Xcel Energy said I used the fourth least energy of my 120 neighbors.”
I was blown away. Here I am, the big enviro, hearing about how this hardy, self-described “farm girl” uses far less energy than I can even imagine. But it was time to go deeper still.
Norma gave me the thumb nail story of her life. It unveiled a majestic, brilliant being who has made a profound difference in our world. It turns out she is a retired nurse, who began her work in surgery. She soon was asked to teach all the other surgical nurses, then all the staff at Regions Hospital. Soon it became the State of Minnesota, the country and the world. She traveled the world teaching about healthcare in developing countries and helping to set up their entire healthcare systems.
She was asked by our government and the UN to help China. She recounted how she had to review a new Chinese hospital in preparation for the flood of foreigners for the Beijing Olympics. She felt it was totally substandard. Norma was faced with the tough question of whether she should lie and say it was fine or tell them the painful truth. She chose the latter. The Chinese government responded by building an entire new hospital based on her instructions.
But a problem remained. They had fabulous, new state-of-the-art equipment but had no one who was knowledgeable to operate it. Fortunately, she had trained an entire hospital in Hong Kong so they brought their staff to do the training in Beijing.
She then retired but when Covid came along the State of Minnesota begged her to return to help. She said she would but she no longer had her nursing license. They said they’d fix it. And they did. She proceeded to help our state survive the Covid crisis and was paid $6k a week to do it.
Who knows who I might meet on my next ride…if I just stop for a moment.
The Every Day Sheroes and Heroes in Our Midst
Yes, we are facing deep darkness and the threats continue to multiply beyond belief. But we must never forget there is light. As poet Maya Angelou said, there are every day sheroes and heroes amongst us. Maybe we can begin to see them. There are extraordinary people in each of our lives that are making a difference by being fully human. That’s what gives me hope. If we can only slow down and see.
Just maybe, they might remind us to hang in there and help us overcome our worst days and uncivil wars.