Gethsemani - Part 2

I made it back over to Gethsemani before I left KY.  I don't know why I like this place so much - the stillness that permeates everything?  I come away changed, knowing the world from a much quieter and simpler place.  I love seeing the monks there, living their prayer-lives.  Sometimes I wake up in the early morning hours and think of them singing their psalms in the early morning darkness and I know that we are not all going to hell in a hand basket, despite the news. Life is holy.  Some day I might have the opportunity to stay here for a week or more.

I had not noticed the new visitors center when I was there last year (Pentecost 2012).  I almost skipped it this time as well, but I had to go to the bathroom.  If you ignore the gift shop, filled with religious knick knacks and some monks cheese and books, it really is a treat.  I was glad that it didn't focus on Merton at all.  He was just a monk among many here.

There is a good little film about the Trappist life, and Gethsemani in particular, made by Louisville film maker, Morgan Atkinson.  (Check out Morgan's latest film, "Wonder").  In the film the monks acknowledge that their lives are for us.

There is a room with many photos of the monks and quotes from them and others about the nature of contemplative life.

 This is probably the finest Mary prayer I have ever come across...

Merton's hermitage:

 St. Bernard of Clairvaux, the best known and most influential Cistercian of all time.

 (I'll be adding more of these photos and quotations on my louie blog, if you're interested.)

 Monks chanting the None Psalms ...

Jubilee

I'm way behind on my posting - still not finished with the KY trip and John has some fish photos he wants up - but I wanted to put up this sweet photo of Jubilee that I got yesterday morning.

Jubilee is doing pretty well with her allergies on this return to the Florida grasses.  I have a good drug (Temeril-P) that I got from the dog allergy doctor, and it seems to be doing the trick.  I upped the dosage when we got back here, and have already pulled her back to 1 pill a day.  Eventually I need to wean her off - she didn't need it at all in PA.

I even think that her eyes are better.  She doesn't fall in the pool anymore.  The vets say that she has lost 90% of her vision in both eyes, but she seems to be getting around pretty well.  We have decided against getting the cataract surgery for now.

Meanwhile, I am busy, busy, busy with all the people needing computer help!

A recounting of Jubilee's return to Florida 2 years ago is HERE.  Big difference.

The Hagan Home

This is the house that I grew up in.

Every time I am back in Bardstown I drive by to take a look.  We lived here from about 1955 until my father sold the house to the Hamilton's in 1980.

 My mother added that little room over to the right not long before she died in 1973.  Other than some big trees that are gone, the house, from the front, looks basically the same as it did when we lived in it.

But the Hamilton's have really kept the place nice.  I couldn't help but notice that they had built something new in the back, and I actually trespassed so that I could get a better look!  I used to fantasize about a pool in our backyard, and where I would put it.  Wow!  Good job!

 I drove down the back ally just to see how it all looks from the back.  Again, wow!

The Queen Home and Narssia's cottage

I never knew much about my mother's family, the Queens.  Other than "Cousin Roger" who lived in Chattanooga, I never even knew another "Queen".  But I do remember my mother telling me that her father was born in this house in Bardstown.  It is on East Stephen Foster Avenue, just before going down the hill to Federal Hill and My Old Kentucky Home State Park.

Records show that the house was built in 1836 by Joseph Queen.

I always thought that Joseph Queen must be my Great Great Grandfather, since my grandfather, William Duffield Queen, was born in 1872.  But it turns out the Joseph Queen, born in 1802 in Maryland, was William's father and Joseph was 70 years old when Will was born!  Joseph is listed as a blacksmith on county records.  The Queens still lived in this house in 1872,

This is the back of the house ...

 ... the cornerstone ...

 ... and a view of the home (and cottage) from down the street.

Right next to the Queen home is a little cottage, built in 1816 and owned by Joseph Queen.

The story that they tell on tours in Bardstown is that this was the home of Narssia - a former slave woman who was given her freedom and the cottage by her master, Joseph Queen. She was the first black woman in the state of Kentucky to own property.  Narssia eventually sold the cottage to get money to buy her son's freedom.

Bardstown - the museum

I spent some time walking the streets of Bardstown while I was in KY last weekend.  It's hard for me to be objective about the town because these are the streets that I walked every day to and from school.  Most everything that I see is riddled with memories, some happy, some sad, and some just ordinary life.    But I can't be a tourist here, I'm too jaded.

Bardstown is an old town.  A sign in the town museum says that in 1780 three pioneers drew for the town lots sold by William Bard, agent for David Bard and J.C. Owings, owners of the land - hence the name, Bardstown.  They don't say how Bard and Owings got the land.  That's the thing about Bardstown, I never feel like I'm getting the whole story.  There is a sanitized version to sell to the tourists - Southern Belles, Stephen Foster and all - which I'm sure is pure fantasy.

This is a typical street:

Houses built right up to the sidewalk.  These brick sidewalks are a recent improvement because this is the way I went to school and the sidewalks were typically broken then.  Many of the old homes are impressive (mansions), and very old.

I used to know the boy who lived in this house and can remember some teenage parties here.

Bardstown prospered during those early days.  The main industries were tanning, rope making, and whiskey distilling.  Bardstown was the county seat, the fourth one established in KY.

This is Spalding Hall.

When I was growing up we knew this as St. Joe Prep.  The local Catholic boys went here as well as "boarders" who came from all over.  The school was founded by Bishop Flaget in 1826, a prestigious academy first run by the Jesuits and later by the Xaverian brothers.  During the Civil War it was a military hospital, and has served as a college, seminary and orphanage.

I passed it every day on my way to school.  In 1968 it was sold to the town and now there is a museum on the first floor and a nice restaurant in the basement.

The museum is really a Whiskey Museum - the museum of Whiskey History.  I'm annoyed that the story of Bardstown is overshadowed by the story of whiskey, but maybe stories have to be told within stories.  In the old chapel of Spalding Hall there are a few artifacts from the early days of Bardstown.

A case full of silver julep cups.  Drinking must have been very big here, along with religion.

And a replica of a Sister of Charity of Nazareth ...

... the sign says that the habit was modeled on the Kentucky pioneer woman's bonnet and cape.

I was disappointed in the museum collection, like it's missing something (everything?).  Maybe I should have explored the much more comprehensive whiskey collection.

The Bethlehem High School Class of 1968 - 45-year Reunion

These are the girls that I attended high school with.  There were 66 in our class, about 20 were at the cocktail party that was held in the school cafeteria.  I don't think that I had been in that cafeteria since we graduated.  The reunion was for all of the 5 year anniversary graduates - we were the 45th anniversary group.  There are a lot more blonds among us now!

It's funny how when you first see someone you think oh my gosh they look different, and then as you get used to seeing each other you finally recognize them and after a few minutes they look exactly the same as you remember them.  Many of these girls I had attended school with since kindergarten.

Last fall, when I thought I was dying, these girls blanketed me with cards and letters and prayers.  I was able to wrap myself up in the comfort of their love, even though I had not seen most of them in more than 40 years.  We remembered each other and held and supported each other on the bonds of our shared childhood memories.  These are connections that will carry us through the mystery of our journey - together.

I really missed my friend Judy Medley (we sometimes called her "Deadly") who died a couple of years ago.

Judy and I hadn't seen each other much since graduation - I think the last time I saw her was at the 25th anniversary reunion, but every few years I would get a funny letter from her or we would talk on the phone and it was if we were still the closest of friends.  She had a unique wit that could cut through the seriousness and darkness of life, and was probably one of the smartest non-bookish people I ever knew.

At least three women from the "older" graduating classes came up and told me that they used to babysit for me.  I didn't remember them, but it felt really good to be remembered, after all these years.  They also tell me, again and again, how wonderful my mother was, which is comforting since I never feel like I knew my mother well.

I happened upon my first cousin, Julie, who graduated 5 years before me (her 50th reunion) and she hugged me and hugged me.

These are Prudence, Ginny, me and Karen ("Corn Fields").  Prudence and I had great debates in 1960 during the Kennedy/Nixon presidential election.  We were in 5th grade then.  She went on to become an attorney and I think she's probably still a Republican!  She was the valedictorian of our class.

Me, Donna and Prudence:

This is me and Patty Ann.  Patty Ann was not in my class but was in the class with my sister.  I told Patty Ann I would take a photo to send to my sister who is now a Peace Corps volunteer in Fiji.  Patty Ann is the official alumni organizer for the school.

And this is the back door to the school, which still looks the same.

Loretto

From Gethsemani I continued my trek down the road to Loretto.  Loretto is the home of my mother, Anna Elizabeth Queen, but I don't know the area well.  By the time I was born in 1950 her parents had died and her stepmother and sisters lived elsewhere.  When my stepmother, "Nannaw"(Regina Young Queen), died in 1962 I remember attending her funeral at a little church in Loretto, and lo and behold, up on a hill I recognized the church: St. Francis.

I also thought I remembered that her husband, Will Queen and his wife, Georgie Veronica Cambron (my grandmother) were buried there.  I spent some time walking around the cemetery looking at the stones.  I could not find a Queen among them but there were plenty of Cambrons.  Maybe I'm mistaken, and the graves are at St. Mary's and not St. Francis.

I gave up looking for graves and headed over to the Motherhouse of the Sisters of Loretto.  These sisters came to Kentucky about the same time all the other Catholics were coming - the early 1800s.  They did not teach at the schools I attended so I did not know them well as I was growing up.  According to the history on their website, they taught the poor children.  I came to know the Sisters of Loretto through Sister Mary Luke Tobin SL ("Luke") and her friendship with Thomas Merton, which I have written about on my louie blog:

The Mary Luke Tobin Connection
Merton and the Nuns
Merton's Last Words

These are my kind of nuns.  They get it.   (In recent news: Along with the monks, these sisters are refusing access to their land for a gas pipeline - Courier Journal article is HERE.)

I had been over here a few years ago and wanted to look again at the artwork of Sister of Loretto, Jeanne Dueber.    Scattered around the grounds of the Motherhouse, and overshadowing the few pious statues, are these wonderful whimsical sculptures ...

 ... even the flowers are sculpted!

But the real thrill for me are the magnificent shapes that Sister Jeanne has fashioned from the branches and trees of Kentucky.  It is as if she has recognized a Truth in the land itself, and made that manifest in her creations.

These are on the front porch of the gallery, powerfully capturing the passion of humanity with the stuff of the earth.

Mind you, I'm walking around these grounds by myself, occasionally running into somebody and nodding a hello, but basically free to do whatever I wanted.  No one to ask what I'm up to or ask permission for anything.  All the doors are unlocked.

So I head up the creaky, winding stairs.

Wow.

Much of the large art looks to be made for Churches or large settings, but there are small sculptures too.  The large sculptures have prices in the thousands of dollars.  You are asked to pay for your purchases by putting a check in a shoe box on the way out. 

I turned out the lights as I left the gallery.

Here are some more photos that I took at the Loretto Motherhouse that I like:

By this time I was hungry so I stopped at the store in Loretto.  The man working in the meat department made me a country ham sandwich on white bread with Miracle Whip.  He wanted to know who I was but didn't remember any Queens.  He was a Miles.  I had seen a lot of Miles over at the cemetery.  Cost of the ham sandwich and a bottle of tea: $3.10.