Freelance feature: Same place, Different time

Blogger's note: I am taking a departure from my normal blog activity to share a freelance feature I wrote  this past week. It is about two men from our church. It was published in our local newspaper this week. 

Same Place, Different Time

When New Yorker Nelson Rosado walked into Jerry Thaggard’s barbershop in his new 

hometown of Senatobia for the first time, he had no idea he would reconnect with a part of his own history. He had crossed paths with the man behind the barber chair in the past, but he didn’t know it yet. 

Rosado and Thaggard both attend St. Gregory’s Catholic Church. When Rosado came into the shop that day, Thaggard recognized him from church, although Rosado did not recognize Thaggard. 

Rosado did notice that there was a Marine emblem on the door. He asked if anyone had been in the Marines, and Thaggard replied that he had. It would take a few more visits to the shop for the two men to discover that they had gone through basic training in the same platoon at the Parris Island, S.C. Marine Corps Recruit Depot 55 years earlier. 

The two men could not be any more different. Thaggard is a soft-spoken Mississippian who grew up in Neshoba County in the Tucker community near Philadelphia. Rosado, a native of Puerto Rico, is animated as he speaks, often making jokes and spinning interesting tales for those around him. 

Thaggard comes from a large Catholic family of seven boys and four girls whose property joined the Choctaw reservation. His childhood friend, Phillip Martin, was chief of the Choctaws for many years. His father worked for the railroad, and his mother was a homemaker. He graduated from Philadelphia High School in May, 1957 and in June began his three-year active duty stint in the Marines. After basic training, he went to Camp LeJeune, N.C. where he became a machine gunner and rifle range instructor. In 1958 he was transferred to the U.S. Naval Retraining Command, a federal prison in Portsmouth, N.H.,  where he worked as a guard and as a cross-country chaser. 

After his time in the Marines, Thaggard returned to Mississippi and attended barber college in Jackson. He came to Senatobia to work. “B.L. Hogan and Pop Taylor were partners in a barber shop here and I came to work for them at the City Barber Shop. I opened my barber shop with my brother James in 1963,” Thaggard said. “We called our shop Big T’s Barber Shop because it represented both of us.” 

He met his wife, the former Frances Patrick, when a customer’s wife, who worked with her at a local bank, introduced them. They were married in 1965 and are the parents of three daughters, Cathy Moore, Marcia Thaggard and Jeri Yow. They have four grandchildren. 

Rosado moved from his native Puerto Rico at two years old. His father was already in New York working as a cook at the Winthrop Hotel. His mother, a homemaker, took care of the family of six children. Rosado attended the High School of Music and Art in Manhattan, studying Graphic Art. After high school, he enlisted in the Marines for a two-year stint in the reserves and headed to Parris Island. He later added another year to his duty, after finding out he’d have to return to Parris Island if he were called up. He was assigned to the motor pool. “The funny thing was, I couldn’t drive and I didn’t know how to work on vehicles, either. Go figure,” Rosado said, laughing. After a year, he transferred to a job as a supply clerk at Marine headquarters in Camp LeJeune, N.C.

In 1958, his unit headed to Beruit, Lebanon to assist during the threat of civil war between Maronite Christians and Muslims. Rosado never got on the shore, as the trouble there was over when they arrived.  “I was on the second ship and it was over when we got there. We headed back to the U.S. by way of Puerto Rico. We landed in San Juan. I was on mess hall duty and could not get off the ship. I was the only Puerto Rican on the ship and all I could do was watch from the deck. I couldn’t believe it,” Rosado said. 

After his time in the Marines, he returned to New York to take advantage of his educational benefits, only to find out that the legislature had suspended them. He wanted to go to college, but his father could not afford to send him. The benefits were later reinstated but he had already found a job as a graphic artist and worked for a company until 1974 when he opened his own business. That same year, he married a friend of his sister-in-law’s, Linda Velasquez, who was also from the Bronx. They are the parents of two children, Ricardo and Monica, and two grandsons. 

Even though the two men were in basic training together, they did not remember each other from their time spent together at Parris Island. “There was no fraternizing with each other,” Rosado said. “I had a classmate there, and we only said hello once the whole time. We were always standing at attention, running, eating, sleeping. There was just no time to make friends.” 

Today, the two former platoon mates not only worship in church together, they have formed a friendship. Rosado has shared his Marine memorabilia with Thaggard, whose platoon photograph and book had been damaged. They can frequently be heard at church and at the barbershop greeting each other with a hearty “Semper Fi!” 

Thaggard

Rosado

The two friends today. 

Forward in February

February has been full of changes.

We finally finished at least part of one of our 2013 projects - cleaning out Lauren's room. All of her "treasures" are stored carefully and locked up tightly, and I feel a bit better now. Both the kids' rooms are cleaned out and we have shopped around for paint colors and flooring choices. We have decided to make her room into a mini-music studio where her dad can play his guitars, I can play the piano and we can record some music. I think Lauren would have liked that a lot. Aaron's room will be a second guest room so we can entertain more family or friends who come to stay. This is another healing step in our difficult journey.

Our Holy Father surprised all of us early in the month when he announced his resignation. I woke up to the news early that morning, and thought I was dreaming. Resign? Popes don't do that, do they? Can they? It turns out they can and they have in the past, even if the last time was almost 600 years ago. I've learned more about the papacy in the past few weeks than I have ever known, and I have been a Catholic for nearly 30 years. When I went to mass in Italy last fall, I realized our church was universal, both liturgically and culturally. The pope's resignation caused me to read a lot about the history of the papacy and helped me realize this church is indeed 2,000 years old, reaching back to when Jesus handed the "keys" to his "Rock" St. Peter. Now we have a conclave (I love how the word comes from the Latin "clavis"or key). I have been in the very room where the Cardinals will convene and choose the next pope. I feel blessed to have been there. I pray that the Holy Spirit will guide them in this most important decision as our church moves forward.

As we move through Lent, we look forward to the celebration of Easter, our March Spring Break trip to S.C. with the kids, and the coming of spring.

That dreaded day

We both knew it would come, but we dreaded it just the same. We knew that one day, we would need to clean out Lauren's room. Our son is married now and has his own home. One day, we will need to have those bedrooms for grandchildren who come to visit.

So we set out last weekend, with the help of our son, to begin that process. We have cried, we have laughed, we have remembered and we have rejoiced. Instead of making us miserable, it has really helped us to rediscover our daughter, and keep her memory where it should be and always will be at all times- in our hearts.

Lauren was a real girly girl. She had more fingernail polish, makeup, hairbows, costume jewelry, purses, shoes and photos than even I remembered. The dominant themes in her room were stars and butterflies. She loved Tinkerbell and Blink 182. She was a big fan of the Godfather movies (her Italian heritage that she really loved), Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia and the Beatles.  She inherited her love for the Beatles from her mom (just like her brother did). She had a million little notes (texting was in its infancy then) from her friends in a little treasure chest. She had prom dresses and school dance dresses. We carefully placed the most important things in bins and sealed them up for safety. We, of course, are nowhere near being through, but we are beginning to see daylight. 

Among all her treasures were some things that gave us great joy and brought us a sense of peace. She had three Bibles among her treasures. Two were teen study Bibles that she had gotten along the way, and one was pretty dog-eared. She had her prayer cards, rosaries and her scapular (which I think came from our friends Bill and Janet Cupo) in her treasures. She loved her Lord and her Catholic faith. 

I jokingly said she might have been a candidate for the show "Hoarders." Of course that's not entirely true, but to us, this is a daunting task. We have given some things to charity. There are things that hold no sentimental value, and we have given them away. 

Whatever we end up doing with her room, we plan to leave some of her things in there as reminders of her. It will always be her room, but as my sweet friend Dawn said, its the natural progression of things- if she were still here, she would have cleaned up her own room and put things away, as our son did when he left home. 

Now her things are put away for her future nieces and nephews to one day enjoy. They will discover their aunt through stories, photos and memories shared by their grandparents and their dad. 

That dreaded day of beginning a painful task has come and gone, and we are able now to handle it a little better. 

And the beat goes on

I've had to talk to a couple of people here lately who have lost children recently. They are still in those first terrible stages - shock, anger, guilt, unspeakable sadness. When I talk to these folks, I try to be honest- I tell them the only thing I can do is hold their hands. No one can make this any better. Time does not heal this wound, and the only thing you can do is remember that you now have a "new' normal and take it one day at a time. It doesn't go away. 

Talking to them is something I feel called to do. I think it is what God expects me to do. But it's tough. I don't think it there will come a time when it isn't tough. I start to remember how I felt and the things that  were hard for me. 

Christmas is always hard. This past Christmas I got an iPad. It started me thinking about all the things that have changed since Lauren died. Social media had not taken off when she passed away. There was MySpace, but Facebook was in its infancy. There was no Twitter, no Instagram and no Pinterest. She never knew what an iPhone, iPad or iPod was.

Thinking about those things brings your loss into sharp relief. No, time did not stand still for the rest of the world like it did for you. The world is still turning and things are moving forward like they always have. 

I don't mean to sound hopeless because I am not. I am only expressing how I feel. God knows my pain and my suffering and the reason why. I just have to trust Him, and I do. 

That's the one thing I try to impress on these poor people, because my faith is what got me through those early days and every day since then. I have to stay strong and I do that through prayer and the support of my family and friends.

God bless those of us in this club that nobody wants to join! 

Trying to make sense of it

This past week has been really tough on most folks in America. The horrible tragedy in Connecticut touched all of us in ways we could not imagine. No one could have guessed that a mere boy, who was  in kindergarten not that long ago himself, could go into an elementary school and murder 20 innocent children. Who could have known that he had murdered his own mother in her bed before he made that dreaded trip to Sandy Hook Elementary School to begin his slaughter? We might have known he would take his own life. That seems to be a growing trend in incidences like these.

This tragedy will be with us for a long time. As soon as I saw President Obama's face on the television, the thought struck me that he looked exactly like President Bush looked on the day of 9/11. The victims were like those in Oklahoma City, in Aurora, in Tucson and the Amish School in Nickel Mines - they were all innocent people going about their daily lives when they met their untimely deaths.

How can we make sense of this? I don't know if I will ever understand how the human mind works. I do believe that there is evil in the world, and that people can become evil and do evil deeds. I do know this: God gives us free will to make our own choices. He allows us to make decisions regarding our lives. Perhaps Mrs. Lanza's decision to try and take care of her son instead of getting him the help he needed was a bad decision. Perhaps she should not have had those guns in the house in such close proximity to her troubled son? Those were my thoughts, as I began to hear about Adam Lanza's troubled existence.

We struggle to find answers. We try to make sense of what happened. We talk about gun control and video games. I believe we have the right, as our Constitution promises, to bear arms. We use guns in our society for protection, for hunting, for competition. I believe we must continue to enforce our laws regarding guns. I grew up in a house with guns and so did my husband and our children. But there were never any accidental shootings and especially none on purpose. That is because we were taught to respect not only the guns, but also the sanctity of human lives.

It was said that Adam Lanza spent countless hours in his basement playing violent video games. I really am ignorant of these games and what they entail, so I really cannot opine on them. I do believe what I read over 20 years ago, however. I read an article that predicted a desensitization of the coming generations due to the graphic violence in movies and television. And that was a long time ago. I worried about my children, and decided it was my job as a parent to control what my children saw. I knew it was impossible to completely shield them from society, so I tried to balance what they saw with reality. I taught them the value of human life.

That comes to my point: I believe what causes many of our problems today is, to coin an old phrase,"the breakdown of the family." We can blame it on working women, divorce or anything else we want, but I believe that no matter what circumstance people find themselves in, if they are good parents, they are good parents.  If their child needs help, they find help for him. They find a way to teach their children right from wrong, to keep them in their sights, and know what they are doing.

God gives us these children for a short amount of time. He allows us to have them so that we can teach them and guide them and love them. We are to show our children the unconditional love God has for us, and discipline them with love. It is our responsibility not to raise them as "friends" but as responsible Christian citizens of this country and this world.

So back to our tragedy- We will not understand Lanza's motive because he has gone to meet his maker now. We must strive to bring comfort to those who have suffered loss, through prayer and support. We must vow to value each human life and teach the coming generations to value life also.

The Hebrew prophet Micah writes: "Ah! you plotters of iniquity, who work out evil on your beds! In the morning light you carry it out for it lies within your power."  That verse really hits home, doesn't it? 

My "Advent"ure with Mary

My husband loves Christmas more than anyone else I have ever known. He will start listening to Christmas music as early as October, and watching Christmas movies as soon as he can. It's not that he wants Christmas gifts- he just simply loves Christmas.

I love Christmas too.  But, I think I love Advent even more. I love thinking about Mary, and how the angel visited her to tell her she was to have a son. I have always wondered if she felt confused and lonely, and unsure as to her future. The great thing about Mary to me is how she blindly trusted God and let him take control.  Every year I try to remember and reflect upon how her faith and obedience to God's plan for her became his ultimate plan for us all.

I know what others say about how we "worship" her, and nothing could be farther from the truth. We revere her - God revered her too. He chose her to be mother of his son. She was the one that was chosen out of every woman who ever lived to be the mother of his son. How can we not give her our love and respect?

My journey with Mary began long before I converted to Catholicism. Even as a child growing up in a Southern Baptist home, I always wondered why we only talked about her at Christmas. I almost got in trouble once when I was about 6 years old because of my little "devotion" to Mary.

We were in a Sunday School assembly right around Christmas in my little hometown church and the preacher came in to visit. He gave us an opportunity to ask questions, and it was the opportunity this shy little girl was waiting for. I innocently asked why we never mentioned Mary except at Christmas, and even though I have no recollection of how he answered me, I do remember feeling that I had brought up an uncomfortable issue.  Instead of making me forget her, it made me more interested in her.

Somehow, I got a statue of Mary when I was a kid. When I think of it now, I realize it is something of a mini-miracle. I was in a tiny town in South Carolina with no Catholic church and especially no Catholic  gift shop anywhere near me.  But I had that statue in my room for the longest time. I just looked at her and thought about how special she must have been to be the mother of the son of God.

Of course, now I realize God was preparing me for my conversion to Catholicism. I know he knew already that I would meet and marry an Italian Catholic boy and I would convert with my first child, my son, in my womb.

He knew I would need his Mary in my life when I faced my hardest trial. She lost her child and so did I.  Her loss became our gain. Because of her loss, I will see my child again.

"Savior of the nations, come; Virgin's Son, make here your home. 

Marvel now, both heav'n and earth, That the Lord chose such a birth.

Not by human flesh and blood, by the Spirit of our God

Was the Word of God made flesh, Mary's offspring, pure and fresh.

You, the Father's only Son, Have o'er sin the vict'ry won. 

Boundless shall your kingdom be; When shall we its glories see? 

Brightly does your manger shine; Glorious is its light divine.

Let not sin o'er cloud this light; Ever be our faith thus bright. "

Are we meaner than we used to be?

I'll be so glad when this election is over, and I almost feel the same way about football season at this point. It seems that politics and football bring out the worst in people. I cannot believe some of the ugly and personal remarks I have witnessed both on television and on social media this political season. It seems some people think social media gives them license to just be mean-spirited about the person they oppose. Never mind the issues, just trash the person.

It is not right, in my book. Gone are the days when people really sought to educate themselves on the issues, and discuss them rationally. We should really know what we are voting for when we go into that booth. It is vital that we look past the party and the personality, and try to discern the man or woman we think will represent us best in our state and in our nation.

Same goes with football. People are so mean about other people's teams. I am a great believer in rivalries. I think it is healthy and American to have sports rivalries. Haven't we seen enough already with two dead trees, and a so-called "fan" who is now a registered sex-offender for behaving like a jerk after the national championship? You even see little league parents getting into fist fights at their children's games.  I'm sure there are countless other examples, but these were fresh in my mind.

I read the news daily about children being abused, tortured and killed by strangers and even their own parents, in some cases. There are "gone missing" cases every day and our children are being bullied to the point of suicide.

We as Christians are called to show Christ to others in our lives. As Catholics, we are taught to "be Christ" to others. I try not to say too much on Facebook and Twitter about politics, although I do post about my favorite football teams!

Maybe someone might call me a chicken, for not stating my opinion on politics. I will say this, I am a Catholic and a Christian, and as such, I am pro-life. So my voting is very influenced by that issue. I believe in taking care of the poor and marginal, which is what my faith teaches. I try to be as Christ to all, and fall short every day of my life. But I try.

I pray that we as a society, will return to some sense of decorum and integrity. I hope we can learn to love each other, but if not, I hope we can at least respect each other's right to our own opinions, and learn to tolerate our differences.

Peace of Christ.