E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure

For the release of the title, E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure from The Museum of the American Military Family, director Circe Olson Woessner talked about the book with my co-writer-in-residence, Connie Kinsey and me.

(yeah, I keep sharing the cover photo — credit the non-profit ad budget of $0.00 <smiley face> )

Launch day has arrived for E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure, another anthology produced by the Museum of the American Military Family.

E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure joins two other books from the Museum. One, Schooling With Uncle Sam, is a first-person memoir collection of DoD schooling with the overseas American military. The other, On Freedom’s Frontier, gathered first-person recollections of American military service on the tank-defended, and land-mine-infested border between West and East Germany–the Iron Curtain. All three books were shepherded by Circe Olson Woessner, the Museum’s executive director.

To quote from the Museum’s press release,

“The motto, E Pluribus Unum, means ‘out of many, one.’ The museum’s latest project E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure — gives title and substance to a newly-released multi-faceted study exploring if the many do indeed become one,” Dr. Circe Olson Woessner, Executive Director of the Museum of the American Military Family (MAMF) explains. “E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE under Pressure curates, in one volume, stories from hundreds of military-connected individuals based on their service experience seen through the lenses of GRAICE (Gender; Religion; rAce; Identity; Culture; and Ethnicity.).”

In writing E Pluribus Unum, none of us writers knew how the others approached the writing prompts or how they explained the way military life affected their experiences of the GRAICEs. Each of us expanded on our experiences.

My essays are:

  • Supply Train
  • Boxes
  • Tl;dr: One Hundred Years of War
  • Translating Mil-speak to Civilianese
  • The Military: It’s Another World
  • Army of One
  • Gender: Brains, Brawn, or Both?
  • No Atheists in Foxholes v. Keep Your God Out Of My Foxhole
  • Race, in One Person’s Military Experience
  • Who Are Military People?
  • E Pluribus Unum.

A group of similar essays were written by my co-writer-in-residence, Connie Kinsey, a Marine Corps brat. Scattered between the essays are the book’s illustrations, conceived and produced by “the son of a world traveling family,” Brandon Palma who founded 8thDayCreate.

To polish the book, Amy Hines Woody, an anthropologist and an Air Force retiree, wrote the introduction. Anthropological PhD candidates, K.T. Hanson and Chelsea E. Hunter, put under a sociological microscope raw survey data collected online by the Museum from self-selected respondents. They added fifty pages of survey analysis to the over two hundred pages of first-person experiences. The anonymity of the surveys provided the analysts with much candid information.

Despite pride shown by many of the contributors, E Pluribus Unum is not a hoo-rah rubber-stamp of military life. Likewise, the book is not an invective-laden tirade. It is an authentic look by people with something to say about their lives, either in uniform or close to uniformed personnel.

For those with an interest in what takes place behind the installation fence, I hope you enjoy the book.

I’ve been silent here a while, but <she says, brightly> I have an excuse! I contributed to a book.

For the past year and a half I’ve been writing essays for an examination of gender, race, identity, culture, and ethnicity in the military family for a publication by the Museum of the American Military Family. The museum is near Albuquerque, New Mexico, but we writers are scattered across the country.

The book, E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure, is an examination of gender, religion, race, identity, culture, and ethnicity in the military family.

The project, led by Dr. Circe Olson Woessner, founder and director of the Museum, is in the final stages and should be released in July of this year. I’m happy to have been a writer in residence as a part of the project.

E Pluribus Unum: GRAICE Under Pressure

My publisher recently asked what I’d like readers to know about me from my writing. The question was a new slant on my writing’s purpose. I suppose the chief “about me” revelations would be repeated cups of tea, and a succession of cat companions.

Otherwise, anything the reader learns about me from a piece is a byproduct not the focus. The purpose of my essays and stories is either the illumination of the topic, or finding a reader’s connection to it. During brainstorming, one question is what can my writing generate within the reader that gives that reader a tingle.

“I know that.”
“I did that!”
“Omigosh. That’s what I remember, too.”

Of course, such reader identification only happens among those who have shared those types of experiences. For readers who haven’t undergone similar events, my hope is to pique interest.

“Well, that’s another way to look at it.”
“Really? I’ve never even heard anything like that.”
“Who knew?”

There’s always the risk of the “You’re nuts!” reaction, but that’s just the price of going for the big bucks.

Much writing is meant to be informative, educational, or enlightening — all of which are pretty much in the same vein: revealing something to the reader. In this piece, the main revelation is that I write from a need to write. “Chatty Cathy syndrome,” according to my dad. Talking, writing, photographing: they’re all communication.

In school, midway through the last century, my early writing was composed of notes to a junior high friend. They were much like this—short essays. That hasn’t changed. At the time, my writing topics were then-current junior high concerns, usually composed during a teacher’s lecture. My inner voice drowned out anything the teacher had to say. Today, my chatter on Facebook takes the place of my earlier note-passing. Before Facebook, I’d gone through desktop publishing, Yahoo groups discussions, blogging, and a hot second on MySpace. I haven’t branched out to Patreon or Substack because they seem to require a lot of adult focus and dedication. Unfortunately, a part of me is still in junior high. Perhaps, for entertainment value, I should share more cat pictures.

Minka-doo loves me when she’s feeling snackish.

April 30th is the conclusion of the Month of the Military Child and the day is designated as National Military Brats Day.

1958 — My brother in his mix & match uniform. Apparently, the Air Force BX stocked only junior Army uniforms. That discrepancy notwithstanding, Mom applied the appropriate Air Force insignia to my brother’s Christmas present as we kids didn’t worry about the fine points of proper uniform wear.

To all the military brats, then, now, and in the future, happy Military Brats Day.

Hmmmm, looks as if the back-end WordPress format has changed again. I suppose I’m happy that I’m only learning a new format arrangement and am not going through the adjustments during the change from an agrarian society to an urban one, but not every time I seem to log on?

I’m not quite “back” yet to regular blogging, but I sense progress. Not that it matters, but I’ve been trying for the past week to blog from my iPad. Unfortunately (for me), the iPad is a geriatric version that will no longer update past version 12.something.something. I believe 14.something.something is the present version.

Because of iPadish geriatritude, I wasn’t able to gain access to this blog until I fired up the PC. The PC is even antiqueier than the iPad, but, miraculously, it still works, for which I honor the cyber gods and all their little cyber-minions. <burns an old floppy disk as a sacrifice> Maybe Santa will be kind to me at Christmas and surprise me with a new portable device? One can only hope.

“Life” marches on, but I wish it would stop stepping on my toes. In between grandchild-minding and virus-dodging (I had a just-before-we-knew-about-it brush with The Smell-Stealing Help-I’m-drowning Virus and don’t want to repeat that experience — get your shots!), I’ve been working on essays for the Museum of American Military Families (MAMF), located in Tijeras, New Mexico

This coming winter, MAMF will be publishing a book looking at the concept of E Pluribus Unum as it plays out among the personnel affiliated with the American armed services. The topic I’m working on at the moment is “code.” The military services have so many ways that codes affect the lives of servicemembers, DoD civilians, contractors and their families, from actual codes to everyday language. I take a look at the everyday language given that the actual codes are, like, secret ‘n’ stuff. Shhhh.

1978 — Walking our cat near the East German border.

Regarding codes, this photo of me and Pippin Baby (no one put Pippin Baby in a corner; he traveled) reminds me of the radio transmissions of in-the-clear spoken numbers that we used to occasionally pick up on the car radio while driving around Cold War Germany in the 1970s and 1980s. The transmissions had a kind of Twilight Zone feel to them as Someone, Somewhere, with a very flat voice was doing nothing but reading numbers into the void of the radio wave frequencies: “Two. Seven. Five. Nine. Three. One. One. One. Six. …” They went on and on. Boring, yet fascinating.

If you still listen to the radio and ever come across someone on an obscure frequency reading numbers (apparently the practice isn’t completely obsolete), you’ll know what you’re listening to: Code.

Hello, hello, hello. It’s been a while. Nothing earth-shattering from me; just a new blog post to keep the blog alive and make some use of last January’s renewal fee for the URL. Sometimes, life throws you a curve that takes the starch right out of you. Later on, though, you brave up, open WordPress to blog again, only to find that the whole blogging interface is redesigned. There goes some of that starch you’d regained. Where is everything? Cheers to me making more than one blog post before this time next year.

I’m sitting here, chilling while watching the Olympics (yay, Bermuda!). Other than being a sofa athlete, I’m getting back to writing. My current project is as a writer-in-residence with the Museum of American Military Families. I’m working on a series of essays for the Museum’s GRAICE Project. Along with the essays, I’m planning to improve my blogging habit, provided this interface doesn’t send me in search of chocolate too often. Me investing in a new Dummies book may be around the corner.

Fwiw, neither Covid nor physical dying were ever in play for me or anyone else in the family concerning my starchlessly curved hiatus. (Btw, go get your vaccination!) The blog post title is just a quotation from the souvenir t-shirt I have from a years-ago performance of Monte Python’s Spamalot.

If you’re reading this, thanks.

In honour of Bermuda’s gold medal, here’s a snap from the last time I was there: yellowfin tuna in the panoramic tank at the Bermuda Aquarium.

I haven’t written anything here for quite a while. Explanation: “Life.”

I’m not ill, other than the ‘flu at the moment (sucks), and the only thing that has been broken is my heart (sucks worse). I’m assured by those who aren’t currently in my situation that this gradually mends. Good to know, but not immediately useful. In any case, I had to update the credit card information for the site so you don’t have to see advertising and I figured I’d write something while I was here.

I’m working on a short story to submit to this year’s Fishy anthology sponsored by the Guppy Chapter of the Sisters in Crime writers organization. (Guppy = “Great UnPublished”) Even if my story doesn’t fit the editors’ needs (ie, the story is rejected), I’ll be using it in my own collection so it won’t go to waste.  With luck, and no more San Andreas moments in my life, I’ll get back on the blogging pony and keep on moving. I started ‘writing’ early and I see no reason to stop now.

1950 11 Nov typing lesson sm

Grandpa giving me my first typing lesson.

 

If you’re reading this, best wishes to you for a life free of San Andreas moments.

Locally, last night’s Midsomer Murders was the episode, “Echoes of the Dead.”  Our PBS station’s purchased programs recently exhausted the Tom Barnaby episodes and we’re (finally) onto cousin John’s adventures. Not surprisingly, Cousin John’s cases have a slightly different feel to them than Tom’s. Having read about the change for ages, it’s nice to be (sort of) caught up. I’m guessing that I could catch myself up on a streaming service, but I like supporting a local station.

Because I like traveling, I’ve added to my enjoyment of the series by taking a virtual vacation to the filming locations in the story. During my travels, I can imagine either the film crew on location, or I can relive the story while ‘driving’ through the area by clicking arrow buttons on my laptop screen.

On the Sunday after a Saturday evening of murder and mayhem, it’s fun to drive around the area using Google Maps. No passport. No jetlag. No traffic jams. No murderers. The best part is that after my journey I get to sleep in my own bed. After decades of musical beds, whether in motels, hotels, or temporary Army quarters, ‘my own bed’ is a definite perk.

One thing to keep in mind concerning gazing around the filming locations is that the Google Maps images aren’t tidied up. I doubt anyone knew Google’s car would be driving by and so we don’t have all the pretty flower boxes, a street free of clutter, or the setting perfectly maintained. Still, the price is right.

Naturally, today’s virtual Sunday drive is to England.

The Red Lion Pub in Little Missenden, Buckinghamshire was renamed “The Monks Retreat” for the story. “Bernards hardware store” (IRL, the Village shop) is just to the right of the Red Lion/Monks Retreat.

Unfortunately for our outing, the train station for Great Worthy (in actuality, the Watercress Line in Ropley, Hampshire) was the site of the large building project when the Google Car made its pass through the area. Leaving the station, though, if you click-drive down the country lane out to a T-intersection, you can head either toward Winchester or Guildford.

Great Worthy school was filmed at Albury in Surrey. The Google car couldn’t get close, so neither can we.

The film crews cobble together lovely imaginary towns by trekking all over the countryside. I imagine they have a special team whose job it is to travel around to scout locations. (kind of a ‘duh’ statement concerning the sophistication of the film industry)

For me, virtually traveling to the filming sites adds depth to the stories. With no dialogue or jump-cuts in the Google Maps images, I can take my time, concentrate, and browse. I do miss the smells and sounds of the areas, and I can’t go out to a tea room for a little light refreshment. Still, as I mentioned above, the price is right.

Two years ago, I made a virtual visit to Shetland using Google Maps after watching a television version of Ann Cleves’s book, Dead Water.

This time, my virtual visit is to the Isle of Lewis. Lewis is far closer to the Scottish mainland than Shetland, but my overall impression was the same: wind, salt water, and weather.

Butt of Lewis lighthouse, Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland

 

The reason for my virtual visit to the Western Isles is the book The Blackhouse by Peter May. I listened to it on Audible, and am now onto the next book, The Lewis Man.

In the book, Peter May writes so vividly that you all but cringe because of the drops of brine from The Minch shot into your face by the wind. My only connection to this part of the world is remembering my dad reminiscing about when we lived in England and he, like Mrs. Bale on the television show As Time Goes By, listened to the shipping forecast. My dad’s recollection of the information about the Scottish Isles was “gale force winds.”

The Blackhouse is a character-driven story. Everything hinges on Detective Inspector Fin Macleod’s background as he comes back to the Isle of Lewis to look into a murder with similar details to one he’s investigating in Edinburgh. In the reviews on Goodreads, this focus on character seems to be a love it or hate it factor. Some reviewers strenuously object to the focus on the importance of character rather than puzzle, but the book still has a solid 4-star (out of five) rating. As I’ve bought the next Audible book in the series, I can say that I enjoyed Peter May’s method of telling the story.

May’s story echoes historic events on the island. In my Google Maps drive around the island, I came to a beach I’d seen mentioned on road signs. Near the beach stands a memorial to a group of fishermen who were lost at sea.

A significant theme in the book is the culture of the island and the lore of the guga hunters, “guga” being the local name for the chicks of a seabird otherwise known as the gannet. May’s description matches the scenes in this video, but he doesn’t dwell on the “acquired taste” for the guga.

For my virtual travel, the combination of reading May’s story, my expedition via Google Maps, plus the guga video and article, provide an excellent (and passportless) outing to the Scottish Isles, with no jet lag.

Tickets, please!