The Boy I Knew

A prose for Jamie Jordan, a best friend growing up. Born May 11, 1963. He left too soon, July 20, 2021.

 

Cambay Lane, across the street, a best friend zero to eleven 
A buddy, experiencing life, everything from hell to heaven

Full participation, playing all out, giving our best, fully alive
All that could fit between 1963 and 1975
It was during these magic times, we lived, laughed and grew
This was Jamie Jordan … that’s the boy I knew
 

Early, as an infant I stopped breathing, I was rescued by his mom
There was Dale, Jim, Kris, Kim, Jamie – and a handful of animals that came along
Living next to the Fehners – Kathleen and us would dance to the Fifth Dimension
“The Age of Aquarius” was our tune, lemon drops taking most of our attention
Calling me out to play in the morning – no knock, no words – just bouncing a basketball
Collecting baseball cards, marbles, Slurpee cups – hey, why did he get them all?
Well, at least I got to keep the airplane made out of only three planks of wood
But wait! All the baseball cards, marbles, and Slurpee cups? Not good
Though, walking to school with the gang everyday, one time I forgot my lunch
I ran home to retrieve it – Jamie the only one to wait for me out of the bunch
I loved Terry Shannon; he loved Lori Franke, the red-haired girl
At the dentist office, he’d go in the bathroom and loudly pretend to hurl
His house had a family room and UHF and one of the first color TVs
Laying around all day on a lazy Saturday – doing as we pleased
Speed Racer, Little Rascals, Dennis the Menace, Sesame Street – whatever was on
I remember he liked the Carpenters’ “Top of the World” and Helen Reddy’s “Delta Dawn”
We loved the Dolphins and Dodgers, even wore the team’s colors, playing catch
We could get free baseball game tickets with enough Pepsi bottle caps 

Birthday parties, trick or treating, in my backyard we put on a show
Little Indian guides, Country Day, Chinger, Whitey and “Go Huffer Go”
A real and lethal bow and arrow – a Christmas gift he got
Into puddles of mud after the rain – slide, jump and flop
At his house, in the back, he had this cool tree house fort
We exploded the firecracker in our faces, the wick was just too short
Earning money for the Freedom fireworks, including the big King Kong
Putting water into my dad’s gas tank – man, what a ding dong
Slicing up some upholstery and my leg with a razor, that was pretty bad
He said that was the worst whoopin’ he ever got from his dad
Time would move swiftly along, yes time just flew
Jamie, from 0 – 11 … that’s the boy I knew 

 

And then there were all the sports and games, competing like a rival brother
We had to be on the same team, or we would have surely killed each other
A game of “pickle” on my lawn – the other kids would come to play
“Smear the queer” was downright violent – we could barely walk the next day
Playing basketball with his backboard … hmm, how can we clear the driveway?
Accidentally sending his mom’s car to the middle of Cambay
Mother May I, Red Light Green Light, freeze tag, kick ball
Five pitch, three flies up, 4-square, tetherball
Playing “interception” with Kathy, Glenn Lappin or maybe Mark Christie
Epic games of hide and seek … where the white light pole was “free”
Games were always fair, mostly fun-spirited and never mean
Though when you lost you had to go through the “spanking machine”
All those sporting competitions – man we both wanted to win
His fight with Clay Platt was cool; he kicked him right under the chin
Jamie was fiercely loyal; he would fight anyone to protect his own
Clete, Ruben and Billy – the Cubs little league team, playing at home
Then a funeral for Ruben, buried in his uniform – so young to die
Jim Jordan, Jamie’s dad, on the way there, saying: “It’s OK to cry”
 

We were hippy longhaired kids, inseparable … until things went bad
Spitting water over my head and laughing – it made me just so mad
Then a reunion the first day of 6^th grade – he came over to my house that day
I opened the door; he was always so simple – “Hey, do you want to come outside and play?”
One sad summer his family moved – only to Irvine … not too far?
Hmm, when you’re only 11 – it might as well be the moon or a distant star
The loss of a buddy, a competitor … no one would really understand
I’d have to let him go … to become the adult man
Yet memories can keep alive what time cannot do
Nothing with ever take away – Jamie Jordan, the boy I knew
The boy I knew

 

The Love of a Mother and Wife

 

 

Written for Debbie, whom we lost in May 2011. Perspective, sentiments and memories from her husband Roger.

What is there to living, what is there to life?
Memories and a prayer for a beautiful mother and wife
Debra Lynn Leonardy, you were a dream that once came true
Leaving a legacy of love and a heart that longs for you

Born in Gadsden, Alabama, a southern bell she was
She told you what was on her mind, simply just because
Graduating from Auburn with a bachelors in psychology
Just one course short of her masters in sociology
At 26, she received a gift from high-above heaven
Her son Anthony – he arrived in 1987
His leukemia came at 12, she kept a watchful will
Thirteen straight months at Wolfson Children’s, in Jacksonville
Though odds were slight and slim, somehow he did pull through
A mother’s care and love did all that it could do

Then by fate in 2003, where would she up and go?
Downtown St. Augustine at a familiar gazebo
A concert fundraiser dedicated to the Sons of Italy
Meeting this man who would soon become a sacred destiny
A fine dinner at a restaurant known as The Conch House
A first thought: “What a beautiful person inside and out”
It was so effortless, how much we got along
We watched the dolphins swim past us, all evening long
After two years of dating, she did not suspect a thing
My proposal in the dinner’s dessert – yes, a hidden ring
I was done with the lonely and agonizing search
We married in April ’05 at Trinity Episcopal Church

Honeymooning in New York, then a local B&B
Since no one could watch him, along came Anthony
Married six wonderful years before the angels called her home
A sudden tragic end, we all would be left alone
No doctor, drug company or lawyer would take a righteous stand
Collapsing into loss and pain that no one would understand
What is there to living, what is there to life?
A prayer and these memories of a beautiful mother and wife
Wonderful nights on Broadway, trips to New York City

Fanciful visits to the Coppola’s, shopping at Tiffany
It was well known – I was hers, and she was mine
Phantom of the Opera – her favorite show of all time
Red Lobster, Longhorn Steakhouse, Gordon Ramsay
The chef’s table at Victoria & Albert’s in a wonderful world of Disney
Monthly trips to the Magic Kingdom, we had our annual pass
The love for animals and Boston Terriers, four dogs and six cats
Teasing her about her scooter’s trouble in line on any ride
Into everything she somehow found a way to crash and collide
Health issues, a car accident – they did not keep her low
Until the gateway opened, and it was time for her to go

So what would I say, if I could, to this beautiful mother and wife?
Simply, “I love and miss you every single day of my life”
I’ll always admire her constant support as a real and faithful friend
Her unending love and companionship, true until the end
She was always there for me in all my difficult times
A generous gift to this world – ours, yours and mine
What everyone needs to hear and what everyone needs to know
She loved my two daughters as if they were her own
She dreamed that Anthony graduate and find his rightful way
She dreamed of being there on my daughter’s wedding day
Though some dreams come true and some left to the mystery
We may have to wait for the veil to reveal all destiny
Debra Lynn Leonardy – you were a dream that did come true
Leaving a legacy of love and a heart that still longs for you
Thank you – a wife’s care and love did all that it could do
I only wish that I could somehow comprehend why your spirit flew
I want to know what the angels saw and heard, and what they knew
What is left after all, at the end of this mysterious life?
Memories, longing … and a prayer for this beautiful mother and wife
The most beautiful mother and wife

 

THE LOVE IN-BETWEEN

A poem written by Jim Ellis, as expressed by his wife Jennifer Ellis, and inspired by Jennifer's father Roger Geronimo. Originally published in 2014 for Father's Day. In tribute.

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love
I’m so blessed when I look back, and I think of…

The countless gifts I received over the years
On the fields of bounty, the laughter … and the tears
Horizons full of wonder, abundance and hope
A stash of cash, in a legal-sized white envelope
Freakin’ BBQ’s with meat every damn Saturday
A home we approached by the longest driveway
Apache, Tumbleweed, a Cutie of a bird
There was Daisy and Bonnie, Ernie and Bert
We had Mighty, Sandy, Chango and Ming Toy
That very first car, Ford Tempo – oh boy!
Trips to Hershey, Disney, Mystic, Sandy Hook
The Griswald Inn in familiar Old Saybrook
Mama Leonis, The Fonda la Paloma – all these places
Limos to New York City, in all our glory and graces

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love
I’m so blessed when I look back, and I think of…

The steady foundation all of us could trust
Even with a broken dream – “Escondido or bust”
United Technology Norden Systems – a job for you
A family’s safety and shelter – you knew what to do
A PhD in economics, the Ronald Reagan years
Frank Sinatra singing, “It was a very good year”
Your family doggies – Diva, Georgia, Canio
Roger Geronimo singing, “Ol Sole Mio”

The girls on a theater stage with Bill Cosby
Playing the drums – was it more than a hobby?
A trip to Orlando, Harry Potter was so nice
The Marilyn Monroe doll I wanted all my life
Learning the power of “thank you” and “please”
You, the mighty doctor of the high c’s
The Tampa Opera, a beautiful symphony
A new boy, the enigma called Anthony
Yes, gifts given and then taken back, from above
…
Debbie’s everlasting support and love

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love
I’m so blessed when I look back, and I think of…



Hard times we got through when shadows came to rest
When misunderstanding and miscommunication were simply the test
Needs in conflict, needs at war, walls built so sadly
The chasm that was created between daughter and daddy
Yet, the memory of the comeback, open again the heart
We shared a brand-new memory, and a brand-new start
Reminding us of the eternal, the purest of sacred call
The love in-between – the most beautiful gift of all…
So much to be grateful for, so much to appreciate
Staying in contact, staying connected, staying up so late
Rekindling the bounty, the abundance, not an ounce of lack
Making it so easy to give … and so easy to give back

A mind full of memories, a heart full of love…

THE WINGS OF PEACE

Written for a musical, this one points to the grace that can rescue us from all that harms us ... in all aspects of what makes up our world.

We strike each other in secret attacks
Drawing lines in our minds
Is there any turning back?
Covert operations hiding our weapons of war
Lashing out, thrashing about
Unseen cuts, wounds and sores
The ego holds desires – what it finds, it will keep
Yet the heart only wants nothing more than our release
Escape – fly away on the silent wings of peace
Escape – fly away on the silent wings of peace

A punishment for violence, a bully pushing back
The face of all the war; the playground's sneak attack
An occupying nation – we take our bloody stand
But who can ever know, and who will understand
And who can ever offer a cry of heartfelt relief
Embracing all the tragedy, within the wings of peace
Embracing all the tragedy, within the wings of peace

The wings of peace
How long will we slumber in sleep?
As we pray to the Lord our souls to keep
As inner fires of judgment seem to never cease
Take me away on the lonely wings of peace
Take me away on the lonely wings of peace

Every enemy is shown to a brother cloaked in hiding
Every conflict shows opposing opinions colliding
Never finding a ground where the two can truly meet
Nor extending a trusting hand – to clasp, to hold, to greet
Lifting all of the world on the faithful wings of peace
Lifting all of the world on the faithful wings of peace

The wings of peace
How long will we slumber in sleep?
As we pray to the Lord our souls to keep
Though inner fires of judgment may never really cease
Take us all away on the mighty wings of peace
Take us all away on the mighty wings of peace
Take us all away on the mighty wings of peace

THEY WOULD NOT KNOW

 

On May 30, 2020, the city of La Mesa was overrun by rioters who attacked local businesses, burned down buildings and attempted to invade the police station there. Thankfully, the line was held. On the anniversary of this occasion, I thought of writing some prose, however since I was not there, all I could think of was "I would not know." That sounds like a good enough theme to me. #ThankYouBlue

 

They would not know.

They would not know what really happened on May 30, 2020, in La Mesa, California.

The day the police station was met with a growing crowd of upset citizens … and others bringing fire and rage and more.

The day two banks burned to the ground, and a nearby strip-mall was thrashed and trashed.

The day that officers had to take a stand, not just for a building, but for law and order itself … and for lives.   

They would not know. Not really.

“They” being the public, the multitude of citizens, the onlookers of TV news, social media and the like.

They would not know.

Of the countless incidents throughout the years, the months, the days, the hours.

Of wounded children and abused elders.

Of the car wrecks and gun fights and gangs.

Of the numerous offenders up to no good, lying without a flinch. 

Of the mayhem met so often on what would be most people’s worst day.

They would not know this could be a day shared, every single day … by the men and women on the beat.

They would not know. They would not be there.

Unless they were involved, they wouldn’t even care.

They would not know. Not on a regular basis.

Of the calls about lost boys and girls, trafficked in the night.  

Of the rescues.

Of the sprint dashes towards the danger.

Of the homeless helped, of the property protected, of the businesses bolstered.

Of the guardianship. 

Of the support that happens every silent moment there exits the presence of the badge, the blue, the force.

We would not know.

We would not know about so much … not the deeper service, not the mayhem, not what officers went through on May 30, 2020 in La Mesa, California.

And we need to know … just that.

Mother, Oh Mother

Written for mothers and motherhood everywhere - an eternal presence to always be cherished.

We say "respect the father and the mother"

We say "women and children first"

But times have shown it torn asunder

Bruises, cuts, fists and hurts

Pushed beneath the iron clad armor

Pushed so far down, we cannot see

The loss of man's protective honor

The loss of the feminine identity

 

A forgotten essence, a bypassed beauty

A ripped-up dress, a torn shirt

Where has gone the splendor and the duty?

Mother, oh mother, you have been hurt

 

The divine mother lives merely within

Every woman, female and girl

Beyond the fighting and the sin

Lies the mother of the world

She cries here when the path is forgotten

She cries here when there is no food to be eaten

She cries here when the love is forsaken

She cries here when the children are beaten

 

A forgotten essence, a bypassed beauty

A ripped-up dress, a torn shirt

Where has gone the glory and the duty?

Mother, oh mother, you have been hurt

 

But die she does not, she will carry on

With hopes as strong as love can hold

With arms that know the eternity bond

Of a tale that will forever be told

 

A tale of resurgence and remembrance

A tale that tells of a comeback story

One that embraces a fierce independence

Of peace, of life, of the greatest glory

It's here – in silence – she prays and awaits

For a coast that is clear and a road that is safe

The destiny is known by the muses and the fates

The return of the feminine – we shall not wait

 

She’s here – on the path that is never forgotten

She’s here to ensure there’s enough food to be eaten

She’s here for all who have been forsaken

She here to care for the bruised and the beaten

 

Mother, oh Mother, you have been hurt

Though we say we respect you in many ways

The honorable will remember you foremost and first

And fight to protect you for the rest of our days

Your return assured, your presence celebrated

We construct a fortress to stop those who fear it

Embracing the transformation of the hating and hated

Leaving only your magnificent and brilliant spirit

The Mother and Child Reunion

 

(A real-life story of one of the most uplifting experiences of my entire life.) 

Since the experience illuminated my mind with that which transcends this material world, no success of the material world could match it.

The experience brings to mind a couple of quotes from the sacred text “A Course In Miracles:”

1. If you achieve the faintest glimmering of what love means today, you have advanced in distance without measure and in time beyond the count of years to your release.
2. The holiest place on earth is where an ancient hatred has become a present love.

Now, there was not “ancient hatred” with my mom, but there was definitely some upset, disappointment and anger that kept me from loving and even seeing my mother clearly.

The back story – growing up, I felt neglected, unimportant. No abuse really. Just a sense that my thoughts and emotions were meaningless. Not able to shake that belief in my little kid brain, I grew up distant and distrusting.  I was so distant I would go into my bedroom and close the door behind me every day, as if to say “leave me alone; you will never understand. You probably don’t love me anyway.” And I did this without even thinking that my mother would notice let alone care.

Fast forward – a decade to a time when I’m in my late 20s. I am living in San Diego, about 90 miles south from where I grew up.

My church was having a special service for those couples that wished to take part in a “Recommitment Ceremony.” Though this may have been intended for married couples to recommit their vows to each other, there were a few of us who took it out of the box. I thought that I had been distant with my mother over the past few years, so I would invite her to this service where we could recommit to a loving parent-child relationship.

I didn’t know what magic would come of this.

The ceremony was pretty simple at first. All of us sitting in chairs watching on as our minister gave a brief talk at the podium. She spoke of the power of commitment and dedication to something higher. My mom and I observed as we sat next to each other. And then the minister asked us all to face our partners, or spouses or relatives with whom we wanted to recommit at a deeper level. The minister had us turn our chairs towards each other.

That’s all it took.

All that was needed was that initial movement, that micro motion, to face towards each other.  As we re-positioned our chairs to face head-on, the tears came.

My mother instantly started crying. And she said, “If you ever thought that we didn’t love you, that would break my heart.”

I recall saying, with tears streaming down my cheeks, “I didn’t know.”

In hindsight, I guess that’s how it is for all misunderstandings with loved ones, when we go into a bleak place, making up in our minds what is true for others, when the truth can actually be something wonderful, beautiful and beyond measure.

I walked away from that re-commitment ceremony so light, so free, so unburdened, and with a newfound view of my mother, and a past that was dimmed previously with pain.

Such a joy. Such a journey without distance. Such a victory.

One more quote from the Course:

“Let us together, then, be glad to give some time to God today, and understand there is no better use for time than this.”