The Human Spirit

The Human Spirit

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Tuesday 29 May 2012: 5 years 8 months on … Deuce

Not one of us chooses to come into this world.

Biologically speaking, we come into this world because of a choice made by our parents!

Once we enter this world, if we are “lucky”, approximately the first quarter of our life is spent preparing for life, the next two quarters are spent living life and the fourth quarter is spent in “retirement”.  

Once we are in this life, the ride is not easy, and the choices along the way are ones that we make. We can blame no one else for the route that we take. What we make of this life is our responsibility. What we do with the talents that we receive lies in our hands and our hands alone.

Over the last two weeks, I have had the privilege of watching school rugby against Graeme College in Grahamstown and St Andrews College from Grahamstown in Port Elizabeth. Phillip has been playing and Sean has been refereeing and coaching.

The human race possesses the most amazing athletic ability (well, some people do!).

But the human race also possesses the most unbelievable artistic ability. I suppose it is that which sets us apart from other living species.

I had the privilege of listening to the Hospice’s Last Night of the Proms at the Feathermarket Hall last Sunday.

Philharmonic Orchestra, singers, conductors, soloists, Pipe band, dancers, organists, marimbist, violins, violas, cellos, double bass, flutes, oboes, bassoons, trumpets, horns, trombones, tubas, keyboards, percussion instruments – all moulded together into a harmony of the most soothing of sounds. I can transport myself out of my paralyzed body into another world!

The music of so many talented people who have gone before us is on the programme – Strauss, Horner, Williams, Handel, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Rossini, Grieg, Parry, Elgar … the list is endless.

I also had the privilege last Tuesday evening of watching The Port Elizabeth Gilbert & Sullivan Society’s presentation of the musical Evita.

Again, acting, music, lyrics, staging, orchestra, direction, costume design, choreography, dancing, lighting, sound – all moulded together into a professional production of visual and auditory superlatives. Once again, I can transport myself into another world!

The talents that we have received know no bounds.

But all of these talents pale into insignificance when I compare them to the strength of the Human Spirit with which we have been imbued.

Over the years I have had the privilege of meeting many people who have risen above the adversity of life and who have managed to succeed. Every new day, I meet more such people.

I am busy reading the book Man’s Search for Meaning authored (another of the artistic talents that we possess) by Viktor Frankl, survivor of the Nazi concentration camps.

It tells the tale of the extremities of human suffering, but also the tale of the amazing powers of human endurance.

Man can endure so long as it makes sense to him to go on living: “He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how.”

“Men and women can be set free from despair and find new courage to face circumstances which seemed beyond them.”

It’s that which also sets us apart from the other species.

It gives me courage to continue the fight.

 

 

Age is also in the Eye of the Beholder

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Friday 18 May 2012: 5 years 8 months on … Deuce

For some time now I have been reading up on the history of the Grey Institute (which was the fore-runner of today’s Grey High and Grey Junior Schools in Port Elizabeth).

The history of “The Institute” is, to a large degree, the history of our city, Port Elizabeth, which we all know commenced when the 1820 Settlers landed here on the shores of Algoa Bay from Britain almost 200 years ago.

Why this interest in history?

Firstly, because it would appear to me that the older one becomes the more you pay an interest in your past. And when you have a terminal illness and you are facing the end of your earthly journey, that past starts playing an even more important role in your life.

But, secondly, the reason for reading so much is because Lindsay Pearson, headmaster of Grey Junior asked me many years ago now (I must admit) to try and settle an age-old dilemma: just how old is Grey Junior School?

So, I have spent many hours reading and delving into the past.

There are many books, many records and many stories.

In the final analysis, the age of the school is in the eye of the beholder … why do I say this?

The human race has developed many conventions over the years that we all accept as fact. For example, we all accept that the age of a person is calculated from the day that person was born – their birth date which becomes their birthday!

 An argument could be made that the age could be calculated from the date of that person’s conception, i.e. add nine months to everyone’s age currently calculated from their conventional birthday and make them just a little bit older!

Another argument could be made, as in the case of our youngest son Phillip who was born at twenty seven weeks (some three months prematurely), that his age should be calculated from his supposed birth date in September 1995 rather than the July 1995 in which he was born. In which case, we would have to subtract three months from his current age of 16 years and 10 months and make him just a little bit younger! (Bad luck for that pending learner’s licence at age 17!)

However, we all accept the convention – human age is calculated from date of birth. No arguments!

Not so in the case of schools. There is just no publicly accepted convention that determines when a school is born and hence what event starts its age clock ticking.

In most cases, schools (or rather the people that manage them) determine arbitrarily what event to use as their date of birth. It all depends on how old they want to be – do they want to be wise and aged (like a good whiskey) and to be seen as the doyen of those schools around them, or are they vain (like humans) and pretend to be “Forever Young”.

So, in the case of Grey Bloemfontein, for example, in order to make themselves the patriarch of the pack, they adopted the date (1855) on which Sir George Grey wrote out a personal cheque in order to establish the school in Bloemfontein as their birthday.

Queen’s College in Queenstown uses, as their birth date, the date (1858) when the Cape Colony government took over an already existing private school.

Grey High Port Elizabeth originally used, as their birth date, the day in 1859 on which classes commenced in the new Institute Building that was erected on The Hill. They celebrated their 50^th birthday in 1909 and then sometime, thereafter, decided to make themselves three years older when they adopted 4 June 1856 as their birth date. That was the date on which the bill establishing the Grey Institute, ”Act No 6, 1856: An Act for Regulating the Public Schools in Port Elizabeth upon the Grey Foundation”, was passed in Parliament in Cape Town and signed into law (assented to) by Sir George Grey, the then Governor of the Cape Colony.

So where does the current Grey Junior School fit in?

In trying to make a valid decision, one’s mind tends to be clouded by the educational terms, rules, policies and conventions of today. However, one needs to take the following into consideration:

In the years 1820 onwards, Port Elizabeth was in a British colony at the southern tip of Africa known as the Cape Colony. There was not a united South Africa until 1910.

There were no structured education departments, school boards, school committees, governing bodies, etc, as we know them today. Privately established schools were the order of the day. Each often determined its own policies and procedures, and these were usually left in the hands of individual teachers and headmasters, and church ministers and town councillors. Over the years, these establishing principles developed into uniform policies and educational standards that we are accustomed to today.    

Port Elizabeth was a little village of only some thirty years old when discussions were started to create some educational order and to establish a new government school. The total population of the village was some 2000 people – less than the number of people (teachers and staff) who today occupy the Mill Park campus of the Grey Schools!

Children often went to school when they were as young as four years of age and most of them left by the age of twelve to go and work. Words like Elementary School in those days referred to those very youngsters and High School referred to children often from as young as eight to twelve years old. (The change-over from Elementary to High was not determined by age but by ability – to read, write and do arithmetic. The change-over criteria constantly altered over the years. Standards (Grades, as we know them today), jockeyed up and down – sometimes being part of the elementary school and sometimes part of the high school.)

Be that as it may, then, when the Act to establish the Grey Institute was assented to in 1856, it made provision for elementary and a high school. In fact, the “elementary” school opened its doors to learning on 1 February 1859, two months prior to classes starting in the “high school” on 4 April 1859.

From the beginning, the elementary “feeder” school to the “senior” high school was housed in the same Institute building (the current MSC head office on the Port Elizabeth Donkin.) As the dividing line, the requirements and enrolment of the senior school changed, the physical location of the elementary school changed.

Over the years, the Elementary Division (School) moved in the same building from one floor to another and from one wing to another.

In later years it moved from that original Institute Building to another totally separate building, and then back to that Institute Building when the High School moved in 1915 to the present Mill Park campus. Finally, when it too outgrew the Institute Building, it also moved in 1930 to its present Mill Park Building on the joint school campus.

During all of those years, the Elementary School Division was in a lesser or greater manner under the authority of the High School Division, but both being parts of the “Grey Institute”.

In 1930, when standardised Union of South Africa educational policies required change, the Grey High School and Grey Junior School came into being as two autonomous schools – each with its own School Committee.

So when was Grey Junior School born? How long is a piece of string?

With no standardised convention in place, the “date of birth” becomes a subjective decision.

It could be:

• ·         The day when John Patterson established the first public school in Port Elizabeth (1841)
• ·         The day when a decision was made to establish the Grey Institute (1855)
• ·         The day when the bill was passed in Parliament to establish the Institute (1856)
• ·         The day when classes started on The Hill (1859)
• ·         The day when the elementary division “moved down the road” to a separate building (1908)
• ·         The day when the division moved back into the Institute Building by itself (1915)
• ·         The day when it moved to the Mill Park campus (1930)
• ·         The day when it became the autonomous “Grey Primary School” (1931)

My view is that Grey Junior School grossly underestimates its age as being a “youngster” of 82. 

If wisdom and experience come with age then it should put itself up there in the company with the schools and the sages of time, as does Grey High School.  It should recognize its birth date as 4 June 1856, the date of the passing of that bill that founded the Grey Institute and would change the educational landscape of Port Elizabeth and indeed South Africa forever.

In the case of human beings, no one would argue that separated Siamese Twins should consider their birthday as the day on which they were separated and commenced living autonomously.

Least of all, would we argue that one’s birth date was the day on which it was born and the other’s the day on which it was separated from its twin.

To me, it makes perfect sense to argue that Siamese twin’s age is calculated from their date of birth rather than their date of separation.

My vote: Grey Junior was born in 1856 together with its twin Grey High (maybe with just two months head start and experience on the High School if one considers when each started breathing with commencement of classes!).

I can’t wait to see at the top of Grey Junior School letterheads: “Founded in 1856”!

Happy 156^th Birthday, Grey Junior School, next month on Monday 4 June 2012!

 

By the way, as we are talking birthdays:

Happy 20^th birthday Sean, on Sunday 20 May 2012.

(That is, of course, if we are calculating your birthday from when you were born in 1992 and not from the previous August in 1991 when you were conceived!)

(When I received my health news six years ago, I had never hoped to see you leave your teens. We are both truly blessed to be able to celebrate another milestone together. See you at your 21^st next year!)

 

 

To the Grey Classes of 1987 and 1992

Tuesday 15 May 2012: 5 years 8 months on …

Dear Classes of 1987 and 1992

Firstly, let me congratulate you on the magnificent reunion weekend that you organized. Everything flowed so smoothly and seamlessly, but I know that a lot of hard work and effort went into making it happen. I am sure that everyone enjoyed the various functions that they attended.

Secondly, I would like to thank the classes for inviting me to share in your reunion with you. It is very rewarding for a teacher to observe the results of his handiwork and to know that, in part, he has been responsible in shaping their future. You can be justly proud of the contribution, small or large, that you individually have made to your families, your communities, your school, your country and your world. The Classes of 1987 and 1992 have certainly continued the tradition of raising the bar to new heights!

I shall wear your class shirts with fond memories of the very special years, 1984 – 1988, that I had the privilege of teaching and getting to know many of you at The Grey.

In 1859, the very first year that classes were taught at the brand new Grey Institute on The Hill, the Governor of the Cape Colony, Sir George Grey, was recalled to London. The Staff and boys of the school wrote to him expressing their regret at his departure and “gratitude for the benefits he had conferred upon them”.

He replied to them as follows:

Gentlemen and Students

Your letter at expressing your regret at my departure is one of the most gratifying which I have received. Every man desires to aid in blessing others, and in doing good; but it is not given to many men to see such early fruits springing from those labours in which they themselves and others have engaged. God has, in the case of the Institution from which you write, given me this pleasure, and has allowed me to hear that, from the Grey Institute, and from amongst yourselves, good and able men have come forth.

If any of you who have done credit to the Institution, require a friend in Europe, remember that you are, in some sort, children of mine, and have a claim upon my sympathy and aid which I shall not overlook.

From your affectionate friend

G. Grey

I am pleased that from the Classes of 1987 and 1992 “good and able men have come forth”. G. Grey, your affectionate friend, whose mortal remains lie in St Paul’s Cathedral in London, must also take great pleasure to see the fruits springing from his labours.

There are many life lessons, but one which I recall is the fact that “time comes to an end”.

My teaching time at The Grey, about which we reminisced so much this weekend, came to an end in 1988, our weekend together came to an end all too quickly, and, indeed, our time on this earth will come to an end.

During that time, life will hand us many different “Dear Johns”. Many of you are aware of my illness. I will most probably not see some of you again.

As a young teacher, just a few years older than yourselves, I taught you mathematics and computer studies, but I don’t think we ever spoke about life.

In some sort, you are also “children of mine”. If I may then, let me give you one last lesson: Let me encourage you to make the most of each and every day. Live for the moment. Live each day as if it were your last, because some day it will be!

 Until we meet again … thank you for the memories.

 Regards

 Ed Lunnon

Where the Land meets the Sky

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Tuesday 15 May 2012: 5 years 8 months on … Advantage CBD

There are a number of “Queenstowns” in various countries in the world.

Our Queenstown, nicknamed the Rose Capital of South Africa and almost in the middle of the Eastern Cape Province of South Africa, was founded in 1853 and is named after Britain’s Queen Victoria.

The layout of Queenstown reflects its original objective as a defensive stronghold for the frontier area on the Border and has a most unusual design. There is a central hexagonal area where canon or rifle fire could be directed down six thoroughfares radiating from the centre. The canon sites have now been replaced with gardens and a central fountain was the dominant feature. A striking abstract sculpture replaced the fountain as part of the town’s 150th anniversary. The Hexagon still exists, with the outer road surrounding and encircling it named Robinson Road.

I have visited Queenstown on many occasions. The first time was at the age of eight (?) when, as a family, we caravanned through the country, from Cape Town to Bloemfontein to East London and back to Cape Town.  We stopped over in the Queenstown caravan park – more or less where the Casino and shopping centre is now. Then, I visited my sister Ingrid and brother-in-law Anton when I was in the army in 1982 and they taught there. When I started teaching in Port Elizabeth in 1984, we visited Queenstown bi-annually and, in my business life, I did numerous business visits – almost fortnightly! As a parent from Junior School days (from 2002), we also visited bi-annually – every even year.

I haven’t been there in the last two years – not since our last school visit in 2010.

But, last Friday, we travelled to Queenstown again. The reason for our trip was to meet the big canons – not those on the Hexagon – but those at Queen’s College. Our Grey High School boys were to take on the might of the boys of the College in the annual encounter of sporting and cultural disciplines.

Queens’s College is the oldest school on the Border. A Mr C.E. Ham set up a private school for boys, the Prospect House Academy. In 1858 it was taken over by the state as the Queenstown District School. That year is taken as the foundation date for Queen’s College and Queens is, therefore, just two years younger than our own Grey Schools – founded in 1856.

The venue for this encounter alternates on an annual basis: one year in Port Elizabeth and the next in Queenstown. As Phillip is now in his second last year at school, this trip to Queenstown would be our last to watch the games there!

Queenstown lies some 400km north-east of Port Elizabeth and there are a number of routes one can take to get there. 

From the Sunshine Coast through the Great Karoo: we chose the N10 north to Cradock and then the R61 north-east to Queenstown. However, we broke the trip, after an hour and a half’s travelling, at Middleton and stayed over on Friday evening with Colin and Michelle van Niekerk on their dairy farm Monterrey. (Their son Hugh was with Sean at Grey and Angus is Phillip’s vintage.)

Saturday was an early-morning start just as the mist was beginning to lift. The sun was starting to rise over that spot where the land meets the sky in the east and the vapour was rising up into the cold air over the relatively warmer water of the numerous farm dams. The darker mountains were silhouetted against the lighter azure of the pre-dawn sky.

It’s in scenes like this in the Heart of the Karoo that you discover your soul and more.

 It took another two and a half hours through Cradock and Tarkastad (where Pera taught for five years) to get to Queenstown, arriving there just after 09h00 and in good time for Phillip’s rugby game.

Phillip’s team won, as did all the other high school teams in the morning (except the Fourth’s). After lunch came the third rugby team (won), seconds (drew), and then the big one of the day: the Grey High School for Boys First XV against the Queens College Boys’ High School First XV.

At the turn into the second half of that match, life could not have been better for the Grey supporters. The score was 19 – 3 in Grey’s favour and we were riding the crest of the wave.

Then, as in Life, just when you think that things can’t get any better, the rug gets pulled out from underneath you. The dominos fall one at a time!

From hero to zero …

A new referee, a yellow card, a send-off, a few strange decisions, and before you can say “Life’s not fair!” the score is 19 all!

And just when you think it can’t get any worse, there’s one final nail in the coffin: that try that would have put you on the winning track and changed the course of history, just isn’t a try.

Never count your chickens before they hatch, and never celebrate until the money’s in the bank.

In the dying moments, smoke rings in the sky, an up-raised finger to thank God and a beautiful swallow dive result in the ball being lost and the try not being a try!

 The score remains 19 – 19! Or does it?

Just to add insult to injury and to rub salt in the wounds, a final penalty to Queens in the closing seconds of the game adds three points to their score and the scoreboard tells the story of the Ecstasy and the Agony of the day:  Queens 22 Grey 19! 

It’s when you are down in Life, that the tests of your true self come. How do you handle adversity? How do you respond to challenging situations? How do you pick yourself up from the gutters? How do you start all over again?

Did we pass the test?

If playing sport is to teach us Life Lessons, then Queenstown, last Saturday, was the ideal Place of Higher Learning: 

adversity, appreciation, behaviour, consideration, conduct, commitment, challenge, discipline, effort, emotion, example, ethics, frustration, get-up-and-go, hard work, influence, integrity, joy, kindness, loyalty, morals, mania, norms, obsession, passion, perspective, perception, qualities, reproach, respect, support, standards, self-restraint, truth, uprightness, values, ways, xenophobia, yeomanliness, zeal …  

(Please add more!)

That Saturday evening at the Kudu (the School Pub), the Heritage Guesthouse, Dagwoods Diner and the direct four-hour trip back to Port Elizabeth on Sunday morning were not necessarily as loud and as excited at they would have been had we won.

But, maybe, we did win: in our loss, in this beautiful part of the world where the land meets the sky, we hopefully discovered our Soul and more!

 

 

 

 

 

Teach Your Children Well

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Monday 2 April 2012: 5 years 7 months on … Deuce

As a first year teacher in 1984, I was responsible for introducing that new phenomenon “Computer Studies” into the High Schools of Port Elizabeth. Pupils were selected from all the (white!) schools of Port Elizabeth on the basis of obtaining an A in maths and science. My computer “laboratory” in G5 at Grey High consisted of 3 terminals connected to the Cape Provincial Administration Mainframe in Cape Town and an Apple 11 “Personal Computer” – our PC, we called it. (nowadays, my Blackberry cellphone in my pocket has far more processing and memory capacity than that entire lab!).

Be that as it may, G5 could be the subject of an entire book on its own!

Having “soft” music playing in the background was always an essential part of my teaching, and a song by Crosby Stills Nash and Young was a favourite of mine and many a class – Teach Your Children Well!

 Over the last few weeks, I have found myself thinking about that line several times – and the Circle of Life.

Life, generally, consists of three main phases:

Give or take a few years, approximately the first twenty years of one’s life is spent in the learning and preparation phase: learning to walk, learning to talk, going to school, going to university, learning about life …

 One’s parents and teachers play an all-important role in this part of one’s life.

They prepare one for the next forty years or so. During that phase, whilst the learning should not stop but only move into a background position, it’s the execution phase of the preparation phase that takes place.

It’s during this second phase that some rise to the highest levels and some sink to the lowest. All experience that which life throws at them – the good, the bad and the ugly – and it’s how one deals with each experience that determines one’s “success” or not of living life.

And it’s during this phase that one starts the preparation phase for the next generation – preparing one’s off-spring for taking over the circle of life; for taking over that baton in the relay of life that they, too, will run when the time comes for one to hand it over to them.

At approximately sixty years of age, the third phase of life is embarked upon – those twenty or so years in which one gets to “retire” from main-stream life. Some would call them the “Golden Years” and whilst for a few this may be so, many would experience silver, bronze or just plain tin and struggle years.  The success of these years is determined to a large extent by the health and wealth that is enjoyed during this time.

Some people never experience the seven score years and ten. Some never get to the Golden Age – they leave this world in the first preparation phase or during the second execution phase.  For whatever reason their life is cut short and they never get to experience the Circle of Life as it was intended. 

Yes – for a few, it’s a very large Circle; for most, a much smaller Circle that is experienced.

In some ways the Circle of Life is similar to having a meal: there’s all the preparation involved in obtaining and preparing the various required ingredients, and all the things that can and do and don’t go wrong; followed by the experience of sitting down and eating  and enjoying or not enjoying the meal; and then followed by the after-meal who for some entails the liqueurs and lighting  up the after-dinner cigars, whilst for others it’s the gathering and cleaning of the pots and pans and dishes!

During the last few weeks, I have experienced parts of the Circle of LIfe again.

A few weeks ago, (see the blog Cape of Stormers) I went back to the place of my Life’s preparation in the Hottentots-Holland Valley of the Western Cape. I stayed at my family home; visited my primary school, Hendrik Louw; my high school, Hottentots-Holland High; saw some of my family, old school and university mates and teachers; and even visited my Std Five teacher, Mr Peter Preuss in Cape Town.

Each of these has had an influence on whom and what I am today.

As a parent, and during Pera’s two-week trip to Italy, I have experienced just how our own two sons have been prepared for Life. We are truly blessed; and Pera needs to take the accolades for her role in preparing the boys in the kitchen and looking after themselves (and me!)

From buying the groceries, running the budget, preparing the meals and organising the house (and Charlie!) to looking after me, they have come out tops.  I am a grateful and proud father and I know that, whenever my Circle ends, they are well-prepared to handle the Storms of Life that they, too, will encounter.   

As a school teacher, I experienced this past weekend (and as I regularly do on an on-going basis) just how a teacher has an influence on other people’s off-spring in preparing them for life.

On Friday (and Saturday!) evening I attended a show of David Aldo (Abbate) at the Boardwalk’s Amphitheatre.

I taught David Aldo Abbate maths in the eighties and thought he would become an Einstein. Instead he has become an American-based alternative acoustic pop singer of note.

As a singer-songwriter David Aldo moved to Los Angeles 13 years ago, but he came home this past weekend only for the second time, performing with his daughter Sherri and pianist Brian Schimmel, to give his local fans a taste of his latest offering titled, Halfway to Memphis.

David’s compositions are aired on radio stations around the world and he has opened tours for music royalty such as Lionel Richie and, ironically, Crosby Stills and Nash in New York. He performed at the 2005 home wedding of Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore.  Other A-listers he has performed for include Oprah Winfrey, Donald Trump, Robbie Williams, Dustin Hoffman, Rob Stewart, Russel Crowe, Tom Selleck and Jennifer Aniston.

He has had four number one songs and was once voted best male vocalist in South Africa. He penned a song titled Madiba for Nelson Mandela’s 80^th birthday celebrations.

 My thanks to David for inviting me to his show but also for reminding me, yet again, in our discussions that despite our station in Life and despite the supposed glamour that some attain, the Circle of Life remains the same for all and the weather never remains constant.

At the end of Saturday evening’s show MC Alfie Jay announced that David’s maths teacher was in the audience and that maybe, in some small way, I had contributed to his wonderful sense of timing!

That set in motion many people who introduced themselves to me and thanked me for the weekly show that I do with Lance du Plessis on AlgoaFM.  I am amazed at and grateful for the growing number of people who listen to that programme.

Ironically, as my Circle of Life grows smaller, it actually becomes bigger.  I am so very humbled.

Yes, it’s my time for the after-dinner cigars. Bring on the liqueurs!

(For the record, March 2012 has shown the most regression in terms of my physical abilities. The paralysis has moved from my left hand up into my left upper-arm and shoulder, making it difficult to lift my left arm much above waist-height.  For the first time, I have started experiencing pain in my left shoulder. My left hamstring is painful and subject to many more spasms.  My left leg becomes weaker and I am more dependent now on the walking-stick and leg brace. My mind becomes cloudier and my short-term memory and concentration an ever-increasing problem. I experience on-going weariness.)

 

 

ED’s Diary: Sun Eleven and Mon Twelve March Twenty Twelve

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Sunday 11 March 2012: 5 years 6 months on … Advantage ED

I received an SMS early Sunday from Colleen Ogilvie to tell me that Dick was playing cricket in the Old Grey Six-a-Side tournament – the 50^th time the event was being staged and making it the oldest such tournament in the world! Dickie bowled for EP in his day but that day was some thirty years ago now!

This was something not to be missed, so she fetched me at ten and off we went to Kemsley Park and we were later joined by their daughter, Megan.

It became a long day … we were joined by Pera for lunch (she was hurriedly completing reports at school) and eventually left after the final – Old Grey bowling Grey High out for 19 runs and comfortably beating that target in the second over!

At home, I had a little snooze and then our planned lunchtime braai became an evening braai, competently organised by Sean when he returned from NSRI duty. We were joined by Colleen, Dick, Megan, and Ken and Dorel MacKenzie (and later their son Duncan). Phillip left at nine for the hostel and it was way past midnight when we eventually got to bed!  

It reminded me of our early Port Elizabeth days in the eighties. Dick, Ken and I taught together – in fact, we were a very happy staff during those years. We not only taught together, we socialised together and we spent many days and nights at the Old Grey Club – cricket, hockey, squash, beers, and raconteuring with each other and many of our pupils’ OLD parents.

Now we are the old people, our ex-pupils (like on Sunday, the Gioconni’s, the Elficks, the Loons, the Strydoms, etc) are the “youngsters” who frequent the Club and their kids are the ones who are playing around outside and patiently waiting for their Dads to finish that last one for the road!

Old Grey Club, Lennox Street, Glendinningvale was considered the address of many of us teachers (now called educators) who were unmarried, footloose and fancy-free at the time.

And if we weren’t there, you could find us at El Cid Steakhouse (especially on Sunday nights where colleague Neil Tommo sang in the bar – Neil also sang at our wedding and Dickie was bestman). Monday mornings would see us have hamburgers delivered from the Hamburger Hut in Russel Road to the staffroom at breaktime!

And if you didn’t find us there, we were possibly at Lily’s at the Holiday Inn or The Pig and Whistle at the Marine, Faces under the old Elizabeth Hotel, Bar Bonanza, St James, the Pizza Palace, or late night at Evergreen, It’s Country or Cagneys at the Kine Centre in Rink Street!

Even the Railway Bar at the Port Elizabeth Station or the Farmer’s Home next to Mike’s Kitchen were occasionally visited and once, I recall the Hubcap in North End and the Campanile off Main Road – and in those days the Grey boys (and others) also occasionally, we thought, visited all those places! The rule, mostly kept, was that if a staff member entered such a place, the pupil would leave as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. In such a case, no one really saw anyone else, did they, and no canes were required on the following day!

So, yes, Sunday was a day of good memories, and Monday I felt a bit worse for wear.

Despite that, I managed to have Holy Communion with Bill Lindoor, from the Newton Park Methodist Church.

Next a meeting with Old Grey Dean Vernon, author of a new book PORT ELIZABETH in your hands – a must-have guide to Nelson Mandela Bay, it’s history and things to do (with most of the above watering holes now gone!)

In between, preparations for a trip to Cape Town …

Then Isaac Reuben arrived for our regular catch-up chat, then a quick power nap, took the boys to have their gum guards fitted for the new rugby season (thanks to MAX and Nico de Vries), early supper alone (Pera at governing body elections, Phil back at hostel and Sean at Old Grey rugby practice – the next generation of Old Grey Club patrons!)

By eight I was bushed and in bed, after reading (more looking at the historical pictures) a good deal of Port Elizabeth in your hands.  

 

What a Prick!

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Friday 9 March 2012: 5 years 6 months on … Advantage ED

Ever since becoming ill, I have always been thankful that I have not experienced any pain. A lot of discomfort, yes; but, thank God, no pain!

But all that has changed, and the last three weeks have possibly been the most difficult that I have experienced since becoming ill.

It all started, with no prior warning, in the early hours of Sunday morning 19 February.

On the Friday evening we had attended Shelley and Eddie Terblanche’s ‘surprise’ joint 50th birthday. It started with a bus trip with all the guests on board dressed in ”smart casual black with a mask” to fetch the birthday couple at their home in Summerstrand and then on to Leo’s Bistro in Walmer for a delicious supper.

Then, early Saturday morning (at three am!), I had to get up to get my lift to George with Kobus, an AlgoaFM listener who had kindly offered to take me to the Outeniqua Wheelchair Challenge.

 The challenge, celebrating its tenth birthday this year, attracted over 1000 physically challenged people participating in four events – the 42 km marathon, the 21km half marathon, the 10km event and the 5km fun run.

It is a most humbling experience to see so many physically challenged people participating in “vehicles” ranging from the most sophisticated to the most ordinary of wheelchairs. The fun run alone attracted over 900 participants in wheelchairs pushed by local professional, business and ordinary everyday people and many hangers-on, all with the emphasis on the fun part of it. The main streets of George – York Road and Courteney Street / Knysna Road – are closed for the occasion and the day belongs to those in our community who live life without what so many of us take so for granted.

The trip to George from Port Elizabeth is about a three and a half hour one, and so we were back in Port Elizabeth at about three thirty in the afternoon – some twelve hours after we had left.

I had planned to attend the Concert in the Park at five pm and had an appointment to see Marcus Wyatt, the guest trumpeter at the concert. Marcus is an ex-pupil of mine and he and Andrew Townsin, another ex-pupil, had trumpeted Pera down the aisle when we got married in 1990.

But, I was a bit tired and decided to postpone the evening concert and attend the Sunday morning one instead. A lie-down seemed more in order …

Lesson #1: don’t procrastinate!

I woke up at three on Sunday morning, my whole body in a spasm, my muscles tensed up and with the most excruciating pain. By seven we called the GP, and during a home visit nogal, I received Voltaren injections, pain killers and an anti-inflammatory – coxflam: one tablet twice a day; synaleve: two capsules three times a day for pain (warning: may cause drowsiness). I can quite easily see how people like the Jacksons and the Houstons become addicted to prescription drugs .. and take just a few more every now and then when the pain doesn’t subside! 

I wafted through the next two days, missed the Concert in the Park (and the Redhouse River Mile scheduled for Sunday afternoon), but by Tuesday evening was feeling much better – so much so that I was able to attend Elvis Blue’s concert at the Grey’s Afrikaans Week celebrations in the school hall.

Although I was left with a low level numb sort of pain, the excruciating stabbing pain eased off and the week became better – until Saturday evening (25 February), whilst watching rugby on TV, when it all started up again. Luckily I had “left-over” medication in hand and was able to doctor myself and lie down – but even that was a painful affair! And so some more drugs … Pax: one at night and Stilpaine: 2 tablets four times a day!

The next and third attack happened last Sunday evening (4 March). It is wearing me down and it is becoming more and more difficult to lift my hands and arms. Mentally, it takes its toll, too.

So, first thing on Monday morning, I spoke to the doctor and my biokineticist. It was decided that I needed to see a physiotherapist / chiropractor, and luckily I was able to get an appointment with Dr Pieterse at two that afternoon.

All the muscles in my back go into a sort of spasm and tense up. “Had I tried needles?” I was asked.

I had not.

So, one for one, I had needles pricked into the muscles in my back.

And, on Tuesday morning, I felt like a new person. All the pain was gone! And remained so until Friday morning, when I could feel just a tinge of that low-level ache returning. Luckily, another session had been scheduled for Friday, so round number two of the “needle attack” took place!

Lesson #2:  Don’t under-estimate the contribution that anyone can make in life – even the smallest prick can make a huge difference!   

 So three weeks have passed by with far too little been done. I have been down but not yet out. How long will the pricking last and how long will it bring relief? Who knows?

But, in the meantime, don’t be a prick … enjoy what you can!

 

The Race of Life

©2012 Edward C. Lunnon

Wednesday 18 January 2012: 5 years 4 months on … Deuce

 

My speech at the prize-giving at the Run/Walk in the Parks road race events held on Saturday 14 January 2012 at Grey Junior School, Port Elizabeth:

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, and especially the busload of 20 athletes from Graaff-Reinet.

Imagine, if you will, the Race of Life.

Like today’s race and any other road race, it begins with a registration form and the allocation of a number, which you keep with you for the entire duration of your life.

At the completion of Life’s race, a death certificate, like a medal, is issued to indicate that the race is finished.

For some, it’s a longer race and for others a very much shorter race. For all, like the song says, it’s a winding road.

There are uphills and downhills, watering points, potholes and stumbling points; sometimes you race in groups and other times you are all by yourself.

Some people appear to do it so easily – they just sail through it; others have great difficulties and obstacles to overcome along the way. It’s not just plain sailing for them.

What is important, however, is that as participants in the race we need to enjoy every step of the way, from start to finish, put in all we’ve got and above all, have fun – because all too soon it is over!

I hope that you have all had fun today.

I received a note yesterday from a friend which read “I am encouraging my friends to run your race on Saturday.”

Most healthy people have no idea what it is like to run my race or the race that so many people with special needs run each day. That is what today has been about – raising awareness about people whose race is just a little bit more difficult than your own.

So next time you brush your teeth or don your running shoes or just go for a walk in the park, please spare a thought for those of us who are challenged to do like wise!

Thank you for being here today.

Thanks to Loines, Colleen and their team for all the hard work in organising this event and to the Headmaster and Rector of the Grey Schools for the use of their facilities.

Thanks to all the many sponsors whom Alec has mentioned.

By your participation in this event today, you have not only helped raise awareness about the special needs of so many people, but you have also contributed financially to making our life’s journey that much easier.

I am humbled by your support and thank you most sincerely for that.

I hope and pray that this time next year, in 2013, we may all be here again, and that Loines’s vision of making this, the ED Lunnon Walk/Run in the Parks, an annual event, will come to fruition.

Thank you!

 

 

It’s Not Just a Walk in the Park

©2011 Edward C. Lunnon

 

Tuesday 17 January 2012: 5 years 4 months on … Advantage ED

Two months ago Loynes Jenkerson was unknown to me.

Then I received a phone call from him – to thank me for our radio programme and what it meant to him personally.

I invited him to join me for coffee at Bluewaters café and, as they say, the rest is history.

We discovered that we had a mutual interest in road running – me having run my first official Knysna half-marathon with Lindsay Brown in 2000 and my last one in the year before I became ill. Loynes is still an active runner and the organiser of many races. In our discussion we decided that this July 2012 would see a number of us walking that half-marathon again!

The next thing I knew, Loynes called me again, and asked me for my permission to organise a race in Port Elizabeth to highlight my illness. I agreed to the ED Lunnon Run/Walk in the Parks on two conditions: one was that I would not be expected to help organise the programme and, secondly, that there would be some or other event that would be arranged for people with special needs.

So within the short period of just over one month, and that over the holiday period, the event was organised and put together by Loynes, Colleen Muller and his team of helpers.

There was to be an official 10km run/walk, a 5km fun run/walk and a 1km “walk” around the Grey Schools for people with special needs – people with wheelchairs, crutches, walking sticks, blind people, … you name it!

Permission was sought and granted by Grey Junior School to use their facilities in Mill Park as the starting and finishing point, with parking facilities at the High School. The races would take place in Mill Park and Newton Park – hence the name “Walk/Run in the Parks”.

Loynes is one of those people who does first and then asks – he does not see the wood for the trees – and just gets on with it. “It’s better to ask for forgiveness later than to ask for permission in the first place!” (my paraphrasing!)

Yvonne Anderson was brought on board to organise the handicapped race.

Within days, the framework and the sponsors were there, within weeks the print material and advertising and before the end of December, the first registrations were coming in!

Well-known sports personalities like Steven Hunt, Rory Duncan and Kevin Paul came onboard. People from all walks of life offered to help.

And so came 14 January 2012.

I was slightly nervous when I approached the schools. Firstly, I had volunteered to walk five kilometres and secondly, I was hoping that Loynes would not be disappointed when he saw a few hundred people arrive for the events.

But what I saw in front of me was a sea of humanity – some one thousand people, from as far afield as Union High School in Graaff-Reinet, were already lining up at the start in College Drive.

I became even more nervous. Was there the capacity to handle so many entrants?

“Oh thee of little faith!”

The weather was perfect. The excitement palpable. Late registrations and more late registrations. Last minute hiccoughs.

But, at 06h30, I pulled the trigger to start the 2012 ED Lunnon 10km Run in the Parks, then at 6h45 the same for the 5km run/walk (and then getting myself into the pack to participate, too) and getting back before 07h45 to start the special 1km race.

At 8h30 the prize-giving took place on Junior Grey’s Osborne Field and by 09h30 the clearing up process was in place. Putting away all the equipment for the 2013 races and what will hopefully be the beginning of many more.

Truly, a run in the park may just be a walk in the park for some, but at the end of it all, it takes small ideas from people like Loynes to start big things – in this case, a new movement to raise awareness of people with disabilities, whether they be neurological like CBD, or as a result of motor car accidents.

I hope to see you all in Knysna in July and in the Parks again in January of Twenty Thirteen!

(PS I will post results and pics as soon as I receive them.)

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

It’s a Small Small World

© E.C. Lunnon 2011

Friday 4 November 2011: 5 years 2 months on … Advantage CBD

Dear Kay, Lee, Jerry and Kathy

Thirty six years ago, in 1975, I completed grade 12 at Sulphur High School, in Sulphur, Oklahoma.

During that year, I lived with four families:  first, with Bill and Nadine Whitley (and their five sons) out at the Lake of the Arbuckles and then in town with Judge Dixie and Ruby Colbert (and Shelley and Mark), yourselves, the Rev Lee and Mrs Kay Griffin (and Jerry and Kathy) and finally with the Seips (and Robert and Becky). I had an additional four mothers and fathers and many more brothers and sisters! (I recall the most difficult thing for me was to actually call my host parents “Mom” and “Dad”!)

Despite the years, I remember many things of my stay with you: celebrating my 19^th birthday with a special cake in your kitchen, the Methodist Church (I believe it’s changed its venue now), Kathy’s mice,  Jerry’s bedroom (!) and, of course, our ten-day hiking trip up and around the Maroon Bells and Snowmass Lake in Aspen, Colorado. To this day, a watercolour that Lee painted for me of the Bells and the Lake hangs in our entrance hall in Port Elizabeth (to where I moved from Cape Town in 1984).

 

(Note the signature and date in the left hand corner – I was hoping, Lee, that you had made it famous as a painter by now and that my original is now worth a few million dollars!)

Upon returning to South Africa, I commenced my studies at the University of Stellenbosch. In those years, we relied solely on “snail mail” in order to communicate.  It took some three weeks for a letter to reach Oklahoma from South Africa and the same amount of time for a response to get back here – almost two months for a “round trip”!

Needless to say, despite all our good intentions, the letters dried up rapidly, later became just an annual Christmas card, then SILENCE and then DISAPPEARANCE.

Thanks largely to Kevin Whitley and his insistence in not allowing me “to get away” I remained in contact (to a greater or lesser degree) with the Whitley clan.

I was, therefore, privileged to return to the US on a further four occasions. As a South African (and an honorary citizen of the Great State of Oklahoma) I have most probably seen more of the USA than most Americans, having had the pleasure of visiting most of the 48 contiguous States, as well as Canada and Mexico. 

In 1988, a friend and I toured the country from “sea to shining sea” (and I also returned to Sulphur for a while); in 1999, I visited Orlando and Atlanta on a business trip (and saw the Whitleys in Atlanta); in September/October 2001, my family and I vacationed in Atlanta and with the Whitleys in Missouri; and in March 2007, just after I became ill, I returned for Bill’s (surprise) 80^th birthday party. Unfortunately, he became ill at that time and passed away shortly thereafter.

All this time, I have asked about the whereabouts of my other families. I understand that the Seips have moved back to Pennsylvania. However, I have had no contact with them since 1988. I also saw Ruby Colbert at that time (my understanding is that both Judge Dixie and Ruby have now passed away.) I occasionally get some news via Facebook of the doings of the Colbert’s.

 The Griffins remained the “lost tribe”.

But, all that changed last week, thanks to the wonders of that modern-day invention of the Internet and all the various social networking sites, especially Facebook.

Last Monday, in the early hours of the morning, I heard my Blackberry beep. It was a FB message from Esti Stewart, the editor of the St Francis Bay newsletter The Village News.

In my dozy state and without my specs, I read that my mother wanted me to contact her. Well, bearing in mind that my mom passed away in 1986, it came as a bit of a shock!

On getting my specs and re-reading the message, I read the following:

“Hi ED, Kay Griffen requested via my website for you to contact her, she says she is the mom of the family you stayed with.

I was extremely excited about the contact and immediately responded with a brief note to you, Kay, realizing that it was in the middle of the night in Oklahoma City.

I thanked Esti for passing on the message and she informed me that Kay had found me by reading one of my blogs on OKLAHOMA that I had written and that she had republished in her newsletter.

By noon here, I had received another note directly from Kay:

“Hi, ED. I am Kay Griffin, the mother of the Griffin family with whom you stayed in Sulphur, Oklahoma when you were an exchange student. I would love to visit with you!”

Could I have forgotten the Griffins? No!

But I had forgotten (initially) that ‘visit’ in America simply means to have a chat and not that it was a face-to-face encounter as a visit is here in Africa.  For the moment, I was excited that the Griffins were right here in South Africa!

 However, the World Wide Web would have to do. And, in the next few hours, the beeps continued on the Blackberry, the laptop, the desktop and the I-Pad. The Internet was abuzz with requests from the Griffins to “be my friend” and to “poke me”!

The Lunnons and the Griffins had found each other! 

In 1975, it was impossible to phone directly from Sulphur, Oklahoma to Cape Town, South Africa. Now, we can sms, text, WhatsApp, BBM, Skype, Facebook, call, see and hear each other.

So much has changed in thirty six years. And especially so in our family and personal lives. I guess we have all experienced the ups and downs of life, and have met with the challenge of turning the downs into ups.

I will not bore you with all my details, but I invite you to read my blogsite www.edlunnon.wordpress.com or to visit my website www.edlunnon.co.za. You will find most of my life story stuck away in the blogs that I have written over the last two years.

It has been a truly amazing experience that, after so much time, we have been able to connect once again. I will always be grateful to Rotary and to you and all the other OKIES for the year that was afforded me in Sulphur, Oklahoma, USA. It was a life-changing experience for me and something that has defined my life journey ever since.

Despite modern technology, I hope you will understand that, as a result of my illness, it has become difficult for me to keep up individual correspondence with so many good friends around the world. Hence, the writing of my blogs to keep everyone updated.

I do hope that we can continue to keep in touch through my website and Facebook. You will also be pleased to know that hopefully soon, my blogs will be published in book form.

Thanks so much for writing, for your words of encouragement and for putting me up (and I guess, for putting up with me!) in 1975.

I sincerely hope that, if you ever come to Africa and pass this way, I will be able to reciprocate your kindness. 

Remember, “Yea’re Welcome” and “Y’all come back now!

Lots of love and good wishes

 ED