Ways to Die in National Parks

Before we started on our journey to the Grand Canyon, I read the glossy travel brochures, the history behind important places, rocks, trails, the history behind its exploration, the original trailblazers, their victories, and failures. I was excited and ready to explore even though I had no intention of going down into the canyon based on my age and physical abilities.

Upon return, I brought three books which cured me of the desire to explore on foot anything having to do with national parks and the dangers hidden behind the beautiful landscapes, the rock facades, the verdant mountain forests, and the wild animals residing within.

Recently, while on the official boardwalk of a Yellowstone Park thermal area, the tourists were too close to an erupting volcano, and did not run away immediately; they appeared stopped in their tracks, mesmerized by the sudden explosion of hot mud and gases. Only when they felt the heat and smelled the burning ashes did they decide to run away. I hope nobody got burned from that sudden and unexpected eruption.

To say that there are hidden dangers in parks, it is a mild description of all the things that can kill you. I know that we cannot spend our lives worrying about things that we have little control over, but we can be meticulous and not throw caution to the wind just because the view is breathtakingly beautiful and nature has its plans anyway, why fight it?

I learned that a gorge’s vastness, a park’s natural beauty, and wild animals can kill in so many ways. Experts claim that most of the time accidents and deaths happen because humans are uninformed, take foolish chances, don’t know much about their environment, step into wild animals’ habitat without being prepared or are prepared and die anyway, are not aware of dangers, don’t value their lives enough to take basic precautions, have really bad luck, or think that they are invincible in the face of terrible odds. Thus, people continue to tempt fate and die unnecessarily because of:

-         Scalding in thermal baths accidentally or on purpose to take in hot baths, not knowing that some water holes have temperatures more than 150 degrees Fahrenheit; some tourists accidentally step on a thin crust of dirt which gives way into a 205 degrees Fahrenheit water hole; others fall in while walking in the dark, drunk, or lost.

-         Drownings in deep lakes and due to swift currents in rivers such as the mighty Colorado; clothing bogs down with silt and even good swimmers are pulled to the bottom and drown.

-         Accidental falls of all types.

-         Falling trees and branches.

-         Falling rocks from above (usually thrown carelessly by people on the rim, not thinking that they would dislodge larger rocks which would strike people below who would be killed).

-         Struck by lightning  (being on mountain top ridges and on high rocks; the most dramatic instances were recorded near the Old Faithful geyser in Yellowstone in 1966 when a bolt of lightning struck the cone of the geyser, it traveled via a wire underneath the wet boardwalk, jumped to it and injured numerous people; in 2005 a bolt struck fifteen yards in front of the boardwalk at Old Faithful, causing crowd pandemonium and 11 injuries).

-         Hot springs which appear innocuous and cold.

-         Grizzly bears attacks (they need little provocation to attack, kill, and feed on humans).

-         Bison attacks (park visitors usually get too close to take pictures with or pet huge animals who can stomp them to death).

-         Poisonous gas (hydrogen sulfide gas and carbon dioxide which emanate from the geysers and are also found in caves or in trenches or dug holes).

-         Ingesting poisonous plants like water hemlock, confusing it with an edible plant.

-         Poisonous mushrooms (there are six types in Yellowstone National Park, i.e., the death cap, the destroying angel, the deadly conocybe, the deadly cort, the deadly galerina, and the conifer false morel).

-         Falls off the rim of a gorge or inner gorge like the Grand Canyon.

-         Falls while rock climbing or rappelling.

-         Fatal goring by mountain goats (it is rare, but it happens)

-         Attack from coyotes and wolves.

-         Attacks from a pregnant elk or a momma bear with cubs.

-         Attacks from mountain lions.

-         Poisonous snake bites while far away from any medical help.

-         Scorpion bites especially in Arizona’s Grand Canyon.

-         Death from avalanches and freezing (at least six people died this way inside Yellowstone National Park).

-         Freak accidents such as death by a cave-in when an embankment broke free and buried Peter Hanson in 1907 – he died of asphyxia in Yellowstone.

-         Falling trees which suddenly hit and kill people while hiking, walking, or camping below (trees can fall because of high winds, blizzards, logging or cutting incidents, or plain rot that finally overcomes the precarious balance of nature).

-         Hypothermia sometimes strikes even when prepared with adequate clothing if items get soaked.

-         Heat stroke (below the rim in the Grand Canyon, temperatures rise way above the temperatures around the rim, to 120 Fahrenheit plus, killing those hikers unprepared or physically unable to withstand such hot temperatures for extended periods of time).

-         Suicide (hurtling through empty space in free fall, Thelma and Louise style, is a nightmare that some people have experienced purely by accident, i.e., backing their cars over the rim, forgetting to put on the parking breaks, or deliberately by driving their cars over the rim of a deep gorge, or deliberately jumping to their deaths; Michelle Shocked wrote in her song “Over the Waterfalls,” It don’t hurt you when you fall, only when you land).

-         Forest fires (in Yellowstone National Park 15 firefighters lost their lives).

-         Earthquakes (on August 17, 1959, an earthquake measuring 7.5 on Richter scale killed twenty-eight people in the Madison Canyon just northwest of Yellowstone).

-         Drowning in the rivers and lakes of national parks.

-         Diving (into unknown depths with skull crashing sharp rocks; crushing vertebrae and instant paralysis from hitting shallow bottoms of pools which appear deeper than they are).

-         Horses, mules, and wagons (crushing passengers when they overturn).

-         Accidental and self-defense shootings (Whittlesey wrote that there were at least ten such deaths in Yellowstone National Park).

-         Murders (Lee Whittlesey documents several murders in Yellowstone and a few are documented in the Grand Canyon).

-         Missing and presumed dead.

-         Gas stove explosions (a few died grizzly deaths while camping in Yellowstone).

-         Deaths on the park’s roads and in the air above a national park (Grand Canyon holds the record for the one-time, largest number of deaths in the air, 178, from the collision of two commercial airplanes in 1956).

For national park visitors, hikers, campers, explorers, fishermen, hunters, and fun-seeking persons who are oblivious to potential dangers, this list should be a good starter to remember that nature is not a Disney ride, wild animals are not our friends, they should never be approached, photographed too close, or petted, and warnings from the park rangers should be carefully considered and followed.

Note: I have read by now several books on accidents in the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone National Park, and other national parks and I can honestly say that my encounter with the chasm at Grand Canyon was a type of "fatal attraction." On one hand I was in awe of its magnificent beauty and geological significance, and on the other hand I was utterly terrified of it.

 

                                     

Why the Grand Canyon is Meant to be Admired from Afar

In July 2009, Bryce Lee Gillies of McLean, Virginia, a physics student at Arizona State University, decided to celebrate his 20th birthday by hiking solo in the Grand Canyon.

The 5' 3", 130-pound young man decided to traverse the most stunningly beautiful loop from the North Rim down to Surprise Valley.  All his attempts to find a friend to hike with him had failed so he decided to go alone.

He parked his Subaru at the Bill Hall Trailhead and hiked without sufficient water and experience for an entire week. After getting lost, he collapsed on a boulder, face-down, dead from heatstroke and dehydration. By the time intense searches were launched and he was found, his body had turned black and bloated from the intense heat.

The 27.6-mile hike he attempted, which Backpacker Magazine had described, "This could very well be the toughest long weekend hike in Grand Canyon National Park, but you won't regret a single sunny mile," ended Gillies' life.

He typed on his Blackberry while he was dying, "Life is good whether it is long or short. I was fortunate to see more than most, and for that good fortune I am most thankful." He also typed that he believed in God but was not sure what the afterlife was like, "but I hope there is water."

He was glad that he had a Blackberry with him, otherwise it would have been hard to carve words in the rocks surrounding him, he typed. His final sentence was, "I feel like going into the wild is a calling all feel, some answer, and some die for."

One of the park rangers named Sueanne Kubicek was assigned the painful and difficult task of driving his white Subaru from the Bill Hall Trailhead and of gathering soil in a small bag, which his family had requested -- soil from where he had lived his last dream before taking his last breath.

When Sueanne opened the car door, inside was a plastic gallon jug of water, awaiting Gillies's return from the hike.

His death was among the 125 known and recorded deaths classified as "environmental." Many others who have died of environmental factors, i.e., heat stroke, dehydration, and hyponatremia (low salt in the blood due to overdrinking liquids) are not known nor recorded since the park opened in 1919. Five people were established to have died before the opening and their deaths were also included in the 125 fatalities due to environmental factors.

Note: Yet millions of unsuspected hikers were lucky to have made it alive from the Grand Canyon, some carrying their toddler children in their backpacks and lived to talk about it.

Grief by Mimi Eileen Johnson

Grief. A small, one-syllable word that packs a formidable

 punch. No one escapes its grips; some are tortured their entire

 lives. How do I cope? Why the ebb and flow? How do I

 recognize it? Why did it resurface now? Will it ever stop

 aching? How do I recapture joy with this massive hole in my

 soul?

 On June 9, 2022, for the first time in my life, I lost one of the

 most important people, my grandmother.

She was no ordinary grandmother, she raised me, and we all

 lived together our entire lives. She and my mother grew up in

 Romania, under the insufferable communist regime. They both escaped and were able to build an

 amazing life in the U.S.  I was blessed to grow up bilingual and proud of my Romanian heritage.

   

It was an unbreakable bond that I have never shared with another person, not even my mother. Yes, my

mother and I have a special relationship, but my grandmother was my rock and my world. I watched her

take her last breath over FaceTime, not the way I had envisioned, but was thankful for technology

allowing me to see her one last time.

 

I was sheltered from death, never having anyone close to me pass away. Here I am,

staring at our matriarch, watching her transition into another form. In some ways, it was the most

peaceful experience, especially in lieu of her suffering, but I felt as if I had died right beside

her. I remember hanging up the phone and feeling as if I was having an out-of-body experience. I had

never felt anything like that in my life and I had no idea how to process the information. I sobbed and

sobbed, not fully understanding or processing what I had just watched. That's it? She is gone. Why?

What do I do now? I was attempting to process my thoughts, but I could not, I was frozen, I could

not move, and although I knew I was grieving, I still did not understand the reactions and what I was 

feeling.

So now I am just supposed to go on living without her? How did this happen so fast? More questions

entered my mind as more time elapsed. I felt as if I did not have a right to breathe air anymore because

my beloved grandmother could not either. I battled with my faith in God and was cursing him for taking

her away from me. How could you? Why her and why now? I then realized that my thoughts and

actions sounded a bit selfish. I needed to stop and ask myself what was best for my grandmother and

not my selfish need to keep her here on Earth. I couldn’t help myself, grief makes you inadvertently

selfish.

 

She endured eight years of torture in a nursing home in Northern Virginia. In the beginning I was going

 to see her every single day, ensuring she was never alone, always having a familiar face, and bringing

 all the drinks and foods that reminded her of home. My mother and I were a team that ensured no harm

or neglect would come to her. Unfortunately, in those few times we were not able to go every single

day, the maladies began.

 

Patients with dementia can never fully recall what has happened to them, their reality is fragmented.

There was also the issue of the language barrier. She is Romanian and speaks no English. All

communications happened through me or my mother. If I had to pinpoint the beginning of my grief, at

the time, unbeknownst to me, it would be in 2014, feeling helpless and relying on the hands of strangers

to love and protect my grandmother. At the time, I didn’t realize I was grieving, that little chips of my

existence and my soul were being taken at the sight of so much suffering and pain, not only of my

grandmother, but those around her as well.

 

I am what they call an Empath, I feel energies everywhere and absorb it, whether good or bad. Over

time, I have learned how to shield myself from negative energies, but when surrounded by so much

sorrow and pain, it can take over your mind and body quickly, yet I could not forsake my grandmother

 and leave her without me and my close care. I knew which people were good and which were bad,

 therefore, keeping a keen eye and establishing the right relationships to ensure great treatment. As time

progressed, I channeled my grief into attempting to help those in her nursing home who had no families.

I grieved for them and the wonderful lives they had lived. They were now emaciated, shrouded in

horrible rheumatoid arthritis, withering away as if their lives were never important. When my

grandmother would nap, have a bath, or eating, I would mosey down the hall to visit some of her

wonderful neighbors. I was able to provide comfort to their inevitable deterioration, sometimes not

knowing how impactful it was to their lives or how important it was to my reconciliation with grief and

death.

 

I would have dreams, flashing forward 40 years, when I would need the help and assistance of others.

Could I live in a tiny room like this and be forgotten by everyone? Why does our culture do this to the

elderly? Why is it so expensive to take care of ourselves in the twilight of our lives? Although I knew I

could not predict my own future, I knew I could impact lives in the present.

 

As I was unknowingly grieving for my grandmother’s natural deterioration, I was slowly finding joy in

spending quality time with others who were being forgotten. I wanted them to be remembered, even if I

was the only person on the planet that cared. I listened to countless stories, some about war, others about

 exquisite trips, fashion, happiness, raising families, and the light it brought to their lives was priceless. I

 never knew if the stories were true or not, but in that moment, they were real to them.

In my mind, it was a race against time: I could somehow prevent her from dying if I lived and breathed

that nursing home. How silly of me, right? My selfish grief and attitude convinced me that I

could prolong death. I was on pins and needles every day for 8 years. Every time my mother and I

received a call we would jump and were ready to battle for her life! It was exhausting, but again, I never

realized that was all part of grieving. Your mind cannot reconcile anyone being gone from existence, so

therefore, you try to perform these grandiose feats to prolong their lives.

 

Of course, in the end, nature won the fight, at the hands of irresponsible humans, and we lost her.

Even at 90, she had an amazing will to live. It did not matter what pain or condition was plaguing her,

she always chose life and smiled. She was my hero, and I aspire to be happy like her each day. At the

end, she died due to negligence; from an ordinary UTI that was not treated. The devastation was

insurmountable. I could not wrap my head around this ridiculously simple ailment taking her life. Here I

entered the next stage of grief - anger.

 

I felt a rage that I had never experienced before. I was obsessed with destroying the nursing home and

the staff that neglected her to the point of death. How many more people had their lives end so

tragically and abruptly at the hands of massive incompetency? How could medical professionals let that

happen? Isn’t their oath to “do no harm”?

 

I continually grieved for my grandmother and for others who lost their lives in that nursing

home due to medical neglect, but also lamented the future. Is this what we all have to look forward to?

 Being isolated in a cement room and being treated like someone who does not matter? Someone

 neglecting a urine sample for six months and me dying of a simple UTI, meeting the same fate as my

 grandmother? This simply cannot be! How can I go through this torture again with my mother and

 stepfather?

 

The simplest answer to all my questions is that nature will always win the race no matter how well you

pace your existence. Grief does not happen to people, it is innately engrained in our psyche. It is the

vessel in which we can keep our sanity and continue to live our lives, working through complex

emotions, helping others, and continuing to be good people. I often saw grieving as a weakness, yet.

after experiencing the worst grief of my life, I realize the immense strength it provides in times of

struggle.

 

Now, slightly over a year later, my grief is ever present in each day of my life. I look forward to

experiencing the tears; ironically, it is when I feel most alive! I continually look for signs that my

grandmother is with me, and she never lets me down! She is present in every facet of my life.

Nature and time are the ultimate grim reapers, but only in the physical form. Energy lasts forever. And

 her energy glows in our hearts, in birds, butterflies, and the sunshine bathing her favorite flowers, roses

 and geraniums.

What Do Mink Have in Common with Wind Turbines and Virginia Energy Council?

Danish mink farm
Photo courtesy of the World Council for Nature

Governor McAuliffe signed Executive Order #16 on June 4, 2014 to establish the Virginia Energy Council chaired by the Secretary of Commerce and Trade, Maurice Jones. The council will have 20-25 members appointed by the governor and will “assist in the development and implementation of a cohesive, comprehensive, and aggressive energy strategy for Virginia.” The Virginia Energy Plan will be submitted to the General Assembly on October 1, 2014. http://augustafreepress.com/mcauliffe-signs-executive-order-create-virginia-energy-council/

According to the executive order, “Historically, Virginia has ensured reliable and affordable energy, helping businesses and consumers thrive. The Commonwealth boasts tens of thousands of energy-related jobs, including mines, gas well crews, manufacturing workers, engineers, mechanics, computer programmers, accountants, and managers. Virginians can and should be proud of the energy industry, but a changing market and energy environment requires decisive action to position the Commonwealth to be a national leader in innovative energy generation and utilization.”

Why is the market changing? Is it a deliberate change, and why do we need innovative energy generation and utilization? Is it the fulfillment of the administration’s promise to cause electricity costs to “necessarily skyrocket,” while bankrupting the coal industry?

According to Michael Bastasch from the Daily Caller News Foundation, “at least six electric cooperative utilities across the mid-west and southwest could raise electricity rates up to 40 percent if the EPA imposes new permitting regulations on coal-fired power plants.” Deseret Power Electric Cooperative (DPEC), that serves 45,000 people in rural Utah, Nevada, Wyoming and Colorado, must spend $200 million to install advanced equipment to satisfy the Clean Air Act Title V permit. DPEC’s Bonanza Power Plant is located on the Uintah and Ouray Indian Reservations. The environmentalist WildEarth Guardians are suing EPA to force Bonanza Utilities to upgrade to a Title V permit. After public comments close on June 16, customers will have to foot the bill through much higher utility charges.

Existing power plants must cut their carbon dioxide emissions by 30 percent by 2030 as mandated by the EPA and each state must develop their own reduction plans. Gina McCarthy, EPA administrator, said, “Although we limit pollutants like mercury, sulfur, and arsenic, there are no limits on carbon pollution from power plants, our nation’s largest source. For the sake of our families’ health and our kids’ future, we have a moral obligation to act on climate.” It sounds so nice to have a totally clean environment, who would object to that? However, since U.S. does not live in a bubble, China and other populous third world nations are polluting away.

We could use the Keystone XL pipeline to bring crude from Canada to refine in the U.S., reducing drastically the dependency on OPEC cartel oil.  But the White House decided not to approve it, citing environmental issues even though there are other pipelines carrying crude oil. We would not want crony capitalists’ railroads to suffer if crude oil is delivered by more effective, cheaper, and safer pipelines.

The current regime has been undermining the wealth, prosperity, and the U.S. economy, which has been successfully based on fossil fuels energy generation, in order to satisfy the progressive and Democrat agenda of environmentalism, the use of very expensive and job-killing renewable energy. Millions of birds are chopped up and fried each year at the altar of wind and solar energy. Dozens of taxpayer-subsidized solar companies have gone bankrupt without producing much energy.

But the Virginia Energy Plan boasts about the objective of “accelerating the development and use of renewable energy resources – Virginia can become a hub of innovative and alternative energy research and development by focusing on expanding the use of the Commonwealth’s underutilized renewable assets, such a solar and offshore wind.”

Liberals love solar and wind energy as long as the solar panels, which need considerable acreage to install and plenty of sun year around, are installed on someone else’s property.  But no progressive would agree to have the ugly, unsightly, and noisy wind mills installed in their own back yards because they would be destroying their vineyards’ and horse-riding pastures’ “view shed.”

Aside from frying birds that happen to wonder in the heat flux of the solar panels, or are attracted by the reflecting panels that look like water, or chopped by the rotating blades of the turbines, wind mills are damaging to animal and human health.

Paul Driessen, quoting U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and American Bird Conservancy, said that “wind turbines kill 440,000 bald and golden eagles, hawks, falcons, owls, cranes, egrets, geese, and other birds every year in the United States, along with countless insect-eating bats.”

http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2012/dec/22/big-wind-tax-credit-exterminates-endangered-specie/#ixzz344ofkgw7

Golden eagle found alive 27 days after losing wing to wind turbine
Photo courtesy: Jim Wiegand

“Environmentally friendly” wind turbines kill an estimated 13 to 39 million birds and bats each year.  Mark Duchamp, who is president of Save the Eagles International, estimated these numbers based on a 2012 study of the Spanish Ornithological Society, using data from 136 official turbine-monitoring studies in Spain, data corroborated by a 1993 study of bird mortality from wind turbines in Germany and Sweden.

Accidents have resulted in human injury and death when turbine blades flew from their mounts and landed on roads and property. Noise disturbances associated with wind turbines have been investigated in 1985 by the WAUBRA Foundation for the U.S. Department of Energy http://waubrafoundation.org.au/resources/kelley-et-al-1985-acoustic-noise-associated-with-mod-1-wind-turbine/ and in 1987 by N.D. Kelley, Solar Energy Research Institute of Colorado in regards to low-frequency noise emissions by wind turbines into nearby homes.

http://waubrafoundation.org.au/resources/kelley-et-al-1985-acoustic-noise-associated-with-mod-1-wind-turbine/ H. Hubbard, member INCE, discussed in 1982 “Noise Induced House Vibrations and Human Perception.”
http://waubrafoundation.org.au/resources/hubbard-h-1982-noise-induced-house-vibrations-human-perception/

Some cities, after having spent millions to install wind turbines, turn them off when winds reach higher speeds because the noise pollution is unbearable, causing insomnia, tinnitus, and other ailments. Some people had abandoned their nice homes and moved into trailers. http://www.windturbinesyndrome.com/2014/why-didnt-this-man-believe-wind-turbines-make-people-sick-illinois/

And there are many other little known secrets of wind power and its operability. http://www.aweo.org/problemwithwind.html

In October 2013, Dr. Sarah Laurie delivered her speech, “Wind Turbine Noise, Adverse Health Effects & Professional Ethics” at the Human Rights Conference. The CEO of the Waubra Foundation discussed “the damage unregulated noise pollution is doing to human health, with a particular focus on the effects of infrasound and low frequency noise. Wind turbines are one source, but there are others also doing damage.” Dr. Laurie pointed out that Dr. Kelly and his co-researchers at the Solar Energy Research Institute “identified in 1985 that the source of annoyance for the residents living near a single downwind bladed turbine was ‘impulsive infrasound and low frequency noise, which resonated within the building structure.’”

http://waubrafoundation.org.au/resources/laurie-s-wind-turbine-noise-adverse-health-effects-and-professional-ethics/

Some minks born prematurely
Courtesy: World Council for Nature

Mark Duchamp, also Chairman of World Council for Nature, reported that Denmark, EU’s leader in mink farming, lost millions of kroners in “damaged pelts when wind turbines started to operate near a mink farm. The animals became aggressive, attacking one another, and resulting in many deaths.” http://www.maskinbladet.dk/artikel/tidligere-miljominister-vil-aendre-vindmollebekendtgorelse

Duchamp reported on June 7, 2014 that 1,600 minks were born prematurely, with deformities, or dead. With the farmer’s permission, he posted pictures of the fetuses. Four 3-Megawatt turbines, VESTAS model V112, 140 m in height, were installed 328 m away from the farm. http://wcfn.org/

Because the only major change in the farm life of these minks who died or miscarried en masse in mysterious circumstances in two separate incidents (one of which was described to a parliamentary committee on wind farms), and disease was ruled out,  it was speculated that the installation of wind turbines was the only culprit. Duchamp said, “low frequency vibrations emitted by wind turbines can cause serious ill-effects on health, including altered behavior, deformities, miscarriages, and premature births.

Dead minks who attacked each other
Courtesy: World Council for Nature

In spite of the fact that wind and solar energy are not reliable, depending on fossil energy during down times, kill millions of birds, including our national bird (an estimated 2,300 golden eagles over the past 25 years were killed at Altamont Pass, California), harm animals and their fetal development, and affect human health in many ways, Democrats, including those now in charge in Virginia, are going full-steam ahead with their environmentalist agenda through executive orders and EPA regulations.

Update

The farmer petitioned the government to move his mink farm further away from the four wind turbines on his own land but his permit was denied.

My Dad Was Left to Die 25 Years Ago

My Daddy shortly before his untimely death

Today marks a quarter of a century since the passing of my Dad before his time. He did not die a natural death, it was an agonizing 30 days of deliberate starvation in the hospital and lack of medical care, lingering and clinging to life after one last beating by communist goons. They cracked his skull when they threw him in a pit of metal lathe shavings from a refinery’s scaffolding. It was not the first time he had been beaten for various reasons, but this time it was most cruel. The metal shavings caused tiny bleeding cuts all over his body as well.

Dad was a very honest man and hated all the theft and stealing that took place around him every day. He would not take one piece of anything from his job even if it was thrown in the trash. Everybody worked for the government for the same inadequate and “equal” salary. People stole from their jobs and traded (bartered) with other workers who also took materials or finished goods from their workplace in order to survive. Dad reported often such theft and the culprits would take their revenge when Dad least expected. Other times orders came from on high to teach him another lesson for having raised a child like me who chose to live in the freedom of capitalist America at that time over the exploitation and tyranny of communism. He never hid his anti-communist feelings and steadfastly refused to become a member of the Communist Party.

He was 61 years old and preparing to fly with exuberant anticipation to the United States to see his only child receive her doctoral diploma on May 13, 1989. In his excitement, he had packed a suitcase since January when the dreaded Securitatea (security police) notified him by phone that he had been cleared and a passport was forthcoming. Little did he know that even then, his passport and permission could still be revoked, which they did. He wrote and called a few times, at great expense, to ask me what to pack and what I wanted as a graduation gift.

I just wanted my Dad. I had not seen him in four years. Every time he applied for a passport, the communist handlers told him NO with impunity, calling him downtown to the precinct just to harass him. He had no fame or fortune, just enough money saved in the bank account for his burial. The commies had already confiscated everything when my mom defected to the United States after a three month visit. They punished him for her staying behind in the free America of 1980. For nine years we tried to bring him as well with no success. The communists left him with the clothes on his back and the rented, sparsely decorated, and tiny concrete block apartment on the fifth floor of Block A6 in which I spent part of my childhood. He had just retired and had received two months’ worth of his meager pay for which he had worked since he was 18 years old, 43 years of hard manual labor.

A phone call from my uncle shattered my happiness. I did not want to go to graduation anymore. I worked so hard for the degree but, at that moment, I only cared about my ailing dad. He clung to life for almost 30 days, spoon-fed water and clear soup by his sister Marcela, an angel sent from above. The hospital did not do much to ease his pain or make him better; they just gave him a terminal diagnosis and a bed in the ward where he spent his last days in a conscious but unable to speak much state. He shrank to 80 pounds in 30 days.

Such was the socialist medical care – rationed care for the masses and the best treatment and access for the communist elites. Dad needed a CT scan to save his life and state of the art medical care and drugs. There was only one CT scan machine available in the Communist Party hospital to which my Dad was not allowed access. He expired 30 days later, holding in his hand a wrinkled Easter Sunday photograph of me with his two granddaughters.

In physical therapy at the time, unable to travel 8,000 miles by plane to the hospital and to the funeral, I was devastated. The president of the university convinced me to at least attend Commencement Exercises. I reluctantly agreed only because my Dad would have wanted me to go and see my efforts through to the end.  Our President at the time, George Bush Sr. was going to hand out doctoral diplomas and shake my hand. He subsequently wrote to me a very lovely and caring letter of encouragement.

I pinned on my mortar board the phrase, “4 DAD,” in big, bold letters, and dedicated my degree to him. I would have never made it there had it not been for his loving care and encouragement to strive to be the best during my 18 years of growing up in our modest abode.  I think Dad was so proud, smiling from Heaven, and I felt his presence beside me. It was a beautiful and hot sunny day, not a cloud in the sky when I accepted my diploma with shaking hands and tears streaming down my cheeks.

I hope my Dad’s passing 25 years ago on May 12, 1989, a victim of Ceausescu’s totalitarian and brutal regime, and the death of 100 million other innocents who died at the hands of Bolsheviks, Stalinists, Maoists, Castroists, and other Marxist dictators, will serve as a wake-up call for all the misguided and misinformed Americans who believe the lies that communism is the answer to undeserved redistribution of wealth, non-existent "social justice," and "equality" by government fiat.

In Memoriam

I want to dedicate this post to my dad, Florin, and my aunt Stela, my dear Godmother. Dad passed away on May 12, 1989 and aunt Stela on May 29, 2010. Dad was 61 years young and aunt Stela was 76. Both had a zest for life positively beyond belief. Neither one of them died peacefully, either victims of neglect by the socialized medical care or because of their anti-communist views.

My biggest regret in life was abandoning my family and moving to the United States in search of freedom. Nobody would ever accept me in the fold of their families like my own family. And I had a very extensive family, 27 first cousins, fourteen aunts and uncles, and numerous nieces and nephews whose count I have lost. Eight thousand miles is a long way to stray from everything you have ever known and loved. If anybody got sick or died, we were there within driving or walking distance to give assistance, comfort, help, shelter, food, money, our time, and most important of all, our love. All of a sudden I lost this connection, it was severed suddenly and forever. The fanthom pain was indescribably desolate. It was like death without closure. The pain was and is so raw that it makes my throat tighten and cannot breathe. What do you say to people when they ask, where is your family, where are you going for Christmas, where are you going for Easter? I suddenly became nobody's child, although my parents were still alive. If people got sick, I was not there. If people died, I was not there. If people got married, gave birth, baptized their children, I could not be there. It took 24 hours to fly from my home in the United States to my dad's home in Romania. The plane ticket cost thousands of dollars and talking on the phone was very expensive. Until early 1990s, it cost $3/min or more to talk to Romania, money that I could ill afford. The phone connection took 24 hours sometimes since it was not done through satellites, it was through oceanic cable, I had to contact the operator, give her the number and wait at home for hours until she could connect me with Romania. The call sounded garbled, as if we were talking underwater. It could cut off at any time and the communist regime always recorded our conversations so we had to be very careful what we said.

I was frustrated when people got sick, needed simple drugs or operations that were routine here but life ending over there since surgeons lacked the skills or the equipment to perform them. I felt guilty that I lived in such a land of plenty yet I could not make a difference in my relatives' lives. I sent them clothes, toys, shoes, aspirin, Tylenol, coloring books, pencils, mittens, scarves, chocolate, childrens books, endless packages, but I was helpless with medicine. They could not understand our prescription system, how expensive drugs were, and how desperately poor I was. I could hardly afford care for myself and my children.

When daddy became partially paralyzed from the cracked skull after being pushed by his colleagues from a rafinery platform, nobody tended to him from Saturday to Wednesday. He languished half-paralized until his sister came to visit and found him in such condition. She called the ambulance which arrived three hours late with no medical help. He was taken to the hospital where they did precious nothing for him other than let him die a slow and painful death of starvation and thirst. His sister was there to help him eat and drink some but, after a while, he was unable to swallow. The hospital gave him no IV fluids, treatment, or care. He survived for several days because my aunt Marcella kept him alive.

I was never able to fly because I had fractured a disk and I was in traction myself in the hospital. I had no family to care for me, but I had skilled doctors and nurses. I was lucky that mom was here and took care of my little girls. While in traction, I was agonizing and screaming on the inside that I could not be with my dad. He was on his death bed and I could not say good-bye. I talked on the phone with doctors whenever I could find one, they were very dismissive, impolite, and uncaring. They had written my dad off and administered no treatment. I offered to pay anything they wanted in dollars but theirs skills were not up to the task. There was only one CT scanner in the country and it was at the military hospital in another town 35 miles away. Dad would not have been allowed in such facility as it was reserved for the top brass and the ruling elite. I spent thousands of dollars on phone calls, talking to people I did not even know, unable to say good-bye to my dad who, by now, could only speak in whispers. They told me that aunt Marcella pulled his bed to a phone in the ward's hallway, and he heard my voice, tears streaming down his face, but could not talk back. He died with a wadded picture of me and my daughters in Easter outfits that I had sent him a month earlier. Before he lost his voice, he was telling the doctors how proud he was of his only child who became a doctor in America.

Both families took over and gave my dad a memorable funeral in the village in which he was born. He was buried next to his mother, the beautiful blue-eyed Ecaterina Apostolescu, who had raised 8 children alone since the age of thirty-two. My paternal grandfather and his brothers had died either in World War II or from wounds acquired in the war. The extended family on both sides was present at the funeral, yet, here I was, eight thousand miles away in traction from a crushed disk. I felt like the worst child in the world and to this day, I cannot forgive myself for having left my country in spite of the fact that I have raised a family of my own and have made a difference in thousands of students' lives here in the U.S. The fact that I was not there was and is inexcusable.

I was devastated and did not wish to participate in the graduation ceremonies that month at MSU. I was receiving my doctoral degree and President George Bush was coming to deliver the commencement address. Doctoral candidates were handed diplomas directly by the commencement speaker and their names were called on stage. The President of MSU was a jogging friend - he talked me into attending and I later received a letter of condoleances from the President of the United States, George Bush Sr. My only consolation was that I dedicated on my mortarboard "4 my dad" the entire degree. I could not have been there without my dad giving up the only child he's ever had, knowing that he would not see me much anymore, given the distance.

Every time I see flowers or my husband brings me flowers, I think of my dad, of all the wonderful things he gave up so that I, my children, and all the other people I've touched could have brighter days. In remembrance of him and his name, we celebrate the holiday of flowers, Florii, around the orthodox Easter.

Aunt Stella was mom's middle sister, a skilled accountant, seamstress, homemaker, and mother. I spent many years growing up in the her home. She held me in church during my baptism as a baby and she was to take over, should something bad had befallen my mother. She was an inspiration for her tenacity and audacity to do the impossible. She never gave up and had a strong love of learning. She wrote many letters encouraging me to succeed here in the U.S. As early as last year, at the age of 75, she was strong enough to grow a garden, take care of her two grandchildren, and be a deputy on the village board. When cancer was discovered on her colon, doctors told her that due to her advanced age, it would be futile for the state to spend so much money to treat her when her life expectancy was fast approaching. Medical resources were limited and had to be rationed under the socialized medical system. She refused to give up and her youngest son went to work in Italy to earn enough money to pay for her chemotherapy. She underwent treatment but it was too late, the cancer had metastasized to other organs and bones. She never believed she was going to die, her attitude was positive although she was not receiving enough morphine for pain. I talked to her a lot on the phone during the last months of her life and her positive outlook made me understand that we should not allow pain and despair to rule us. Life is too short to mourn perennially, it is meant to rejoice and laugh often. Aunt Stela, as her Latin name says, was a true "star," shining brightly now in heaven.

My beloved dad and aunt, rest in peace, you will never be forgotten!