The Train Hat March 3, 2008

Early on Thursday morning, I drove out to Joshua Tree in the High Desert for an assignment. The trouble with long car rides, or really car rides at all, is that I inevitably start feeling sad about my dad. The grief that comes with losing a parent is unfathomable until you do, and then it leaves such a gaping hole in your life, that that hole’s size becomes another sort of unfathomable. It’s like a staircase in a house that you’ve lived in for a long time, when one day, one of the steps in suddenly missing.

It doesn’t matter how many times you remind yourself to skip that step because by habit you will forget and crack your shin or knee on a remaining board as your leg plunges into darkness. You’ll be thinking I can’t wait to tell my dad about how extraordinary the wildflowers in the desert are, because that’s what you are supposed to be reporting on this particular Thursday morning, and then you’ll be reminded that you can’t.

Driving to Joshua Tree made me recall the first time I was there in college, young and impressionable, on a climbing/camping trip that was also a double date of sorts, and how amazing I found the the sand, the fields of giant boulders, the blazing sun. I was also deliriously sick with the flu on that trip, which may have contributed to my awe.

I came back in the fall with Sean. It was our first date, made all the more awkward by having committed to spending much of the day in the car driving. We went to the 35th annual weed show in 29 Palms, which is essentially a chance for the local ladies to show off the whacky things they can do with desert plants. I was sucking on a jolly rancher, taking in the arrangements entered in the category “less than museum quality silver,” when Sean leaned in from behind and inhaled and said, “You smell like green apple.” I thought then there might be a spark.

On Thursday, I arrived in Joshua Tree at 9 a.m. on the dot. Our photographer was waiting in the parking lot at the visitor’s center. I can’t be sure, but I don’t think he noticed I had been crying.

As an aside, the only thing I had with me that offered protection from a full day out in the desert sun was Sean’s train hat. Here are the picture’s to prove it:

National Date Festival February 19, 2008

For Valentine’s Day, Sean made reservations at the Claim Jumper, where everything is big, from the portions to the customers. On Saturday, we went to the Riverside County Fair and National Date Festival, as in the edible fruit, not the social activity.

There were ostrich, camel and pig races - and the bull-o-rama, i.e. bull riding and cowboy tricks. Sean liked the camels the best. I liked the 4-H foul entries and hunted down the blue ribbon winner to congratulate her on her prize-winning meat hen, turkey and duck. Unfortunately, the Polish Cock, which Sean was rooting for because of his ethnic heritage, only got second place.

Luckily, we found other Polish marvels to make up for the disappointment. As you can see, the giant Polish corn dog was a big hit.

The corn dog wasn’t the only fair food we enjoyed. We ate a lot more. I started with a hot dog and fries. Then we shared ceviche, a taco, date shake, (the giant corn dog) and fried dough with whipped cream. By the time we got home, we felt really sick. Raw fish, salsa, dates and lots of fried stuff just don’t mix.

Later that night, we walked around looking at the brightly lit rides, and Sean donned his latest purchase from the Coachella Valley Model Train Society. Let’s just say, when he purchased the hat, he was the youngest visitor at the booth.  The little old ladies selling the souvenirs practically fell all over themselves just to help him.

eulogy February 8, 2008

Some of my dad’s friends asked me to post my eulogy after the funeral service.  Here it is:

Thank you all for coming. Last night, there was an outpouring of support and kind words. As a reporter, I’m used to discerning between false pretense and what is genuine. Last night, I was struck by how many of you had wonderful memories to share. You had poignant and funny stories to tell about my dad, and I hope you will keep his memory alive through the retelling of those stories.

 My father was hugely devoted to the field of architecture. He brought simple solutions to complex problems. He would dive right in, get to the heart of a problem and facilitate a solution.  I have described my dad as approaching life as he did architecture, with spirituality and creativity.

He often expressed a similar sentiment, saying, ”It’s not the building. It’s the space created inside the building.”

The same holds true for the person that he was. He lived life with openness, gratitude and curiosity.

My father was a gentle, sweet man who lived his life through generous acts. It was a sensitivity which extended into his personal life, particularly through his relationship with his partner, Lisa.

He had the kind of generous spirit that is most fulfilled by doing for others.

He was a selfless person. He had no agenda. He had no cross-motivations.

 He gave freely of his architectural expertise. And he prepared more architectural plans free of charge and did more pro bono consulting work than anyone can count. And for more than 12 years, he looked after his aunt Maggie, who is now 88 and still going strong.

Following his diagnosis with pancreatic cancer this past year, he was slowed down by chemo. He tried not to let on the toll chemo was taking, but it was clear he needed to rest more and that he was weaker.  

Still before going into the hospital, he had a number of tasks he wanted to complete – helping come up with a solution to an elderly friend’s difficulties with mobility, fixing the latch on another friend’s door and encouraging a fellow cancer patient terrified of undergoing the same surgery he was scheduled to have.

Now, I have a request. Look around you. Look to your right and your left. Look at all the pews that are filled with people who have all come together today for the same reason. I hope you will always keep in mind that you are his family. Now, I have something else that I hope you will remember. That when you do kind acts for others, you will carry his spirit with you and through those acts, his memory will live on.

For my dad January 30, 2008

Donald McSherry, the former chief architect of Westchester County, who devoted his life to incorporating environmentally sustainable design into public buildings, has died. He was 63.

Mr. McSherry, of Port Chester, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in November 2006 shortly after he retired from his post with the county. During his 26 years as county architect, he either managed or directly worked on a variety of multimillion-dollar civic projects - from the county airport to Sing Sing prison, Yonkers courthouse and Westchester Community College. He succumbed Jan. 26 to an infection contracted after liver surgery.

Born Feb. 26, 1944, he was raised in the Bronx by his mother, Rose McSherry. At 23, he was drafted by the military, serving three years as a jet engine mechanic at the Naval Air Station in Willow Grove, Penn. He was awarded the National Defense Service Medal.

In 1971, he was hired as the driver for architect Joe Weiss, with whom he later apprenticed and worked for as a draftsman. In 1975, he was hired by Dome East, a firm created to carry out Buckminster Fuller’s idea for a new type of affordable and environmentally sensitive housing - the geodesic dome. 

With his wife Jeanne, whom he married in 1972, he embarked in 1976 on what would become his lifelong project, the construction of a passive-solar dome in the Pocono Woodland Lakes housing development, of which Mr. McSherry was a founder and past president.

Entirely self-educated, Mr. McSherry passed the state architectural licensing exam in 1980, bypassing the five-year college training usually required for the title. 

He worked for Lester Philip Glass Associates and Rose Beaton & Rose before being hired by the county in 1984.

Known as “a quiet doer,” he had a generous spirit, using his free time for pro bono work. A gentle and sensitive man, he approached life, as he did architecture, with creativity and spirituality.

He is survived by his daughter, Lauren; his partner, Lisa Johnson; his ex-wife, Jeanne; and his aunt, Margaret Reilly.

A wake will be held 5-9 p.m. Monday, Feb. 4, at Hawthorne Funeral Home, 21 Stevens Ave., Hawthorne. A funeral service will be held 11 a.m. Tuesday, Feb. 5, at Holy Rosary Church, 170 Bradhurst Ave., Hawthorne.

In lieu of flowers, tax-deductible donations can be made to: The Franciscan Friars of the Atonement, www.atonementfriars.org, or The Black Feather Foundation, www.blackfeatherfoundation.org. 

Dear all, January 29, 2008

I just wanted to let you know that my dad passed away on Saturday. The wake will be Feb. 5 (so as to avoid Superbowl Sunday) with the funeral the following day. Even though I haven’t been answering the phone or responding to email, I wanted to thank you for all your support. Whatever term you choose to apply, be it positive energy or angels, it really is working.

With love,

L

TICU January 26, 2008

That’s the Trauma Intensive Care Unit where my dad is being taken care of. I just wanted to thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. Good writers aren’t supposed to be repetitive and they certainly aren’t supposed to use cliches. But I can’t help myself at the moment. You know that term ‘fighting Irish?’ That’s my dad. He’s a one-man football team. We were given one more, wonderful day with him. And I don’t mean to sound too “new agey” here, but we can feel the energy pouring in — from all of you. In keeping with my wacky family, we have a Lakota medicine man in South Dakota, a Catholic priest named Father Angel in Pennsylvania and a small Chinese woman in Palo Alto beaming chi and prayers across the country. 

The staff in TICU keeps telling Lisa and me what a wonderful family we have. This afternoon, Maureen, one of the nurses, took me aside to offer assurance and consolation that my dad was in good hands. We went into the hall where she hugged and kissed me. Tonight, my dad’s oncologist stopped in. I was holding my dad’s hand. The doctor came up behind me and wrapped an arm around me and told me what a sweet father I have. I said, “I know, he’s the world to me.” Then the doctor squeezed me tighter, and said, “We had many conversations, he and I. He has a great spirit and you will carry his spirit with you.”

On another note, I’ve been crying so much that my cheeks are red and raw. I’ve discovered smearing bacitracin on at night takes out the sting. I know that’s kind of weird. So please, don’t tell anyone. 

Push To Request Stop January 22, 2008

 I haven’t really felt like blogging since we found out that my dad’s cancer had spread to his liver. As a reporter, you end up writing some of the same stories over and over. Water rate increases, infighting on this or that board, internal scandals that lead to this or that administrator being fired. My parents’ battles with cancer have been a part of my life since I was 22, more than five years ago. There have been times when it has been grueling, when the story of their cancer journeys takes on a repetitive quality. And I’m sure it’s tough for my friends to hear, if not the same story, then a similar one, again and again from me.

I went home a couple weeks ago, just before my dad went into the hospital for surgery. He’s still in the hospital and last night he took a turn for the worse. We have been praying and praying and praying.

Last May, when I graduated from Columbia, my dad gave me a thin yellow strip of plastic that reads, “Push To Request Stop.” Anyone who has ridden on a NYC bus is familiar with pressing the thin yellow line in order to disembark. The gift was a gag after a really tough 10 months that involved my dad’s diagnosis of and hospitalization for pancreatic cancer, my mother’s mental health crisis and a horrendous break up with my partner of six years. I won’t go into the toll the stress took on my body, except to say, it resulted in a prescription for heavy duty pain killers.

The gift was  among the boxes of stuff I have gradually unpacked since moving to Riverside. I took it out this week and placed it on my book shelf. You see, I really love my dad and don’t want to lose him. And I really wish I could just press stop.

My new home January 2, 2008

The Santa Anas blow, blow, blow. These are the hurricane-force winds that can take a tiny flame, a mere spark, and catapult it into a voracious wildfire, gobbling up forests and houses in a great rush of smoke and heat, leaving feather-light gray ash in its wake.

The winds barrel down from the craggy San Bernardino mountains, flipping tractor trailers like dimes as they creep up the 15 freeway to Cajon Pass. And when the 70 mph gusts reach the desert valley, they rake up thick brown sheets of dust and rock that batter cars like hail.

They set the windows in my cottage rattling as if a freight train was passing just feet away, and they send neighbors to their windows, peeking through their curtains to see what sort of ruckus is being created in their backyards. The winds topple garbage cans. They bend palm trees. They break branches and knock over entire trees. The faster the winds gust, the louder the neighborhood dogs bark, as if trying to ward them off. 

These are the winds that bring a chill to a warm winter day (I’m talking 70 degrees), carrying in clouds that obscure the sun and send people inside for another layer — a wool sweater, a flannel shirt or a heavy jacket. It’s winter here.

The Reason Behind The Lapse In Blogging - A Sampling December 16, 2007

Friends Mourn Fellow Skater

FONTANA — About 30 skaters converged yesterday afternoon at Jack Bulik Park to informally mourn their friend Michael Lee Reed Jr., in the same spot where he was gunned down Nov. 21. They had decided to gather to console one another and remember their friend before heading to Principles of Faith Christian Center on Merrill Avenue for the viewing scheduled for 4:30 p.m.
“This is where we always meet,” said Paul Deviny, 22, gesturing to the paved skate ramps. “This is the temple, the church. Welcome to our congregation.”
They mainly stood in silence, leaning against parked cars. Some took to their boards, busting tricks. Others talked about Reed and his signature move, a switch backside 360 kick flip. He was the park’s best skater, the only one who could land it, they said.
Reed occasionally skated all the way from his family’s home in Rialto to the park, friend Johnny Rivera said. But most of the time, he would spend the night sleeping on Rivera’s floor.
“He’d always say, ‘Hey, let me borrow a shirt,’” Rivera, 21, recalled. “Sometimes I’d give him shoes. He always needed socks.”
Rivera lives only three blocks from the park. Staying with him, allowed Reed to meet his goal of skating everyday, all day. He wanted to get a sponsorship and go pro, friends said.
They called him their “body guard,”“a powerhouse” and “a peacemaker.” Reed was muscular from skating daily, but he put his strength toward tricks, not violence, often stepping in to break up fights, friends said. Reed was shot in the torso when he came to aid of a friend who had been approached by two men soliciting the skaters for money and marijuana, police said.
A few minutes before the viewing was scheduled to begin, the skaters piled into their cars. Deviny tossed his skateboard into the bed of his truck and climbed into the drivers seat.
“Let’s go,” he shouted to all.

Muslim Woman Suing S.B. County

ORANGE - A Rialto woman backed by the American Civil Liberties Union has filed a lawsuit against San Bernardino County claiming sheriff’s deputies violated her First Amendment rights when they forced her to remove her hijab, a head scarf that also covers the neck and shoulders.Jameelah Medina, 29, was arrested June 7, 2005, at the Pomona Metrolink station on suspicion of having an invalid train pass, according to the lawsuit, which was filed Wednesday afternoon.

She was taken to West Valley Detention Center in Rancho Cucamonga where her hijab was removed and confiscated for much of the day until her family posted bail.

“It’s hard to explain how I felt, but the closest words are humiliated, violated, exposed,” Medina said at a news conference Thursday at the ACLU Southern California office in Orange County. “I knew that was wrong. I knew I had to fight that.”

Officials with Los Angeles and San Bernardino county sheriff’s departments declined to comment on the lawsuit.

Some Muslims believe a woman’s head should remain covered in the presence of men who are not members of her immediate family.

Medina was on her way to work when she boarded the train in Fontana. When the train reached Claremont, two uniformed officers asked to see her ticket and told her she would have to get off at the Pomona stop, where a sheriff’s deputy arrested her, according to the lawsuit.

The deputy, a member of the Los Angeles County

 

---

 

Sheriff’s Department’s Metrolink Bureau, took Medina to West Valley because “he did not want her in his car all the way to Los Angeles,” according to the suit.Medina said she feared for her safety as she sat handcuffed in the back of the squad car.Deputy Craig Roberts subjected her to bigoted statements, railing about how Muslims support terrorism and how Islam is an “evil religion,” she said.

“That’s when I knew it was serious,” she said. “I felt he could take the next exit and take me anywhere and who would know about it?”

The suit names Roberts, San Bernardino County, San Bernardino County Sheriff Gary Penrod and nine other unidentified individuals.

A Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department official declined to comment.

Medina, a Ph.D. student at Claremont Graduate University, is not suing San Bernardino County for money, she said.

Instead, she wants to pressure officials to adopt a policy that is respectful of all religious beliefs and resembles policies implemented at correctional facilities elsewhere in California, in other states and at the federal level, said her lawyer, Hector Villagra, director of the ACLU Orange County office.

“With the hijab, we really are breaking new ground, but the precedent remains the same.” Villagra said. “The county must show there is absolutely no other way to maintain security.”

Medina said it would have been appropriate for female guards to take her to a private area to remove her head scarf and search for weapons and contraband, as is done when she is detained at airports.

San Bernardino County sheriff’s spokeswoman Jodi Miller declined to comment on the circumstances of the arrest, though she did say the policy is in place for safety reasons and so accurate photos can be taken for booking.

“Anytime anyone is brought into our jail facilities, they are required to take any type of head covering off,” she said. “Everyone is asked - whether it’s a baseball hat or a scarf.”

More center staff urged

FONTANA - Family members of a 91-year-old bedridden woman who was dropped on her head at Citrus Nursing Center and later died are calling for improved staffing at troubled facilities.

“We want people to know that they have a problem,” said Cathie Scanlon, the victim’s daughter. “People aren’t going to know what happens at these homes because there’s nowhere to find this information.”

The center was recently fined the highest possible amount - $100,000 - for the death of Anna Bohatch and was given a class AA rating, the most severe penalty allowed under state law, state Department of Public Health officials announced Nov. 29.

The investigation found that inadequate care led to Bohatch’s death. Center officials have appealed the citation.

Scanlon faulted the facility for being understaffed.

“There are people putting their family into these homes because they think they’re going to get quality care,” Scanlon said. “Maybe someone will give it a second thought.”

This is the second time Citrus Nursing Center has been cited for a patient death.

California’s 1,400 nursing homes on average get slapped with 20 of the most severe penalties annually, according to a spokesman from the state agency.

The facility was faulted for failing to provide for patient safety when moving Bohatch into bed using a lift machine.

Two nurses, not one, should have been present, according to the report.

When Bohatch

 

started to fall, a certified nursing assistant tried to catch her, but couldn’t hold her head, just her body, according to the report.A licensed vocational nurse who was called into the room found the patient on the floor with “blood fresh from (the) back of her head,” according to the report.The incident occurred Feb. 24. Bohatch died nine days later from a blunt force head injury.

In the past three years, the nursing home has received three other citations, according to Department of Public Health officials.

The nursing home was issued the second highest penalty, a class A fine, on March 17, 2006, for $17,000 as well as on April 4, 2006, for $18,000 for a patient death.

Both times the citations were given for not “timely” notifying a doctor of a change in condition.

A class B fine, of $700, was issued for not treating a patient with dignity and not following a plan of care.

Bohatch’s family members grew concerned in recent years about patient care when Bohatch received stitches in her forehead in what center officials claimed was a fall out of her wheelchair.

Bohatch was also rushed to Kaiser Hospital in a coma because her blood sugar had plummeted to a dangerous level, Scanlon said.

Although Bohatch died, the Department of Public Health did not cite the facility until Oct. 11.

“Because of the seriousness of the incident, there was an extensive review process,” according to an agency statement.

Frank Johnson, CEO of Brea-based SunMar Healthcare, which owns Citrus Nursing Center, did not return phone calls.

Fontana OKs new mosque

FONTANA - The latest in a string of mosques piercing the skyline with minarets and domes along the 10 Freeway was approved last week.

“It’s an exciting time,” said Hussam Ayloush, executive director of the Greater Los Angeles Council on American-Islamic Relations. “(Fontana) is probably one of the only major cities in San Bernardino County not to have a mosque.”

Ar-Rahman Islamic Center will be built on a one-acre lot close to downtown on Sierra Avenue, near Miller Avenue.

Ar-Rahman, which means “the most merciful” in Arabic, refers to the holy name of God, said imam Faiz Shah, the Muslim community’s religious leader in Fontana.

“A mosque is a basic need,” Shah said. “Every Muslim community needs a place for worship.”

Ayloush said it is not surprising to see mosques springing up along the 10.

“That’s the nature of freeways,” he said. “Economic growth has attracted a lot of people, among them members of the Muslim community who are proud to live in San Bernardino County.”

Shah said his congregation is looking forward to having a permanent home, an effort spanning at least five years as members worked to collect enough donations to build the mosque.

The congregation has been renting space at the Karate Club on Sierra Avenue.

Shah said the architectural details of the mosque still need to be worked out, but the minaret will tower nearly 40 feet above ground.

Just over one-third of the

 

7,656-square-foot building, which will be oriented toward Mecca, will be used as a meditation area for worship.The two-story mosque will also have a multipurpose room, lobby, kitchen and office space, according to planning documents.Shah estimated that about 45 Fontana families will attend prayer on Fridays, the religion’s holy day.

He said the mosque will also serve Muslims who work in Fontana because they will no longer have to drive to neighboring cities to pray.

Shah said he expects the mosque will help bring the community together because Muslim families are scattered across the city.

Citing the free-clinic run by Muslim volunteers in San Bernardino, Ayloush said the presence of mosques has triggered Muslims to become more involved in their communities. The Quran mandates community service, and mosques aid in organizing that work, he said.

“Mosques tend to become the center of social activities,” he said. “This is where people gather to decide how to serve their communities.”

New Sean, old Shawn December 7, 2007

The e-mails have been rolling in. I know it’s confusing for some of you, as evidenced by the latest note from Wietske in Sweden. She’s been checking up on my by means of the blog. This is what she wrote:
“I just wanted to say that you’re looking so great on those pictures!! And…. does that mean that you’re back together with Sean?!?”

Hopefully, this will help set the record straight.  The answer is No. It’s the same name, different boyfriends. One was an engineer. This one is a reporter, a reporter for a competing newspaper in fact. One was tall. The other is really tall. One resides in Northern California, the other in Southern California. The first one I lived with for nearly five years. The second one lives down the street.

A lot of you feel uncomfortable speaking of my new boyfriend by name, avoiding the act with references such as “New-Seanda,” “Your boy” and “Sex Slave.” At first, the same-name thing bothered me, too. Plus, it gets confusing. In conversation, am I referring to the past or the present boyfriend? But, in the end, all that doesn’t really matter. It’s what’s inside that counts. And, as my dad’s partner, Lisa, says, “At least, this one spells his name right.”