Hurricanes, Storms, and Floods

Chuck Brodsky, is a folk singer/song writer who lives in Ashville, NC, that was recently devastated by the hurricane. Yesterday, he was interviewed on a radio station in Bethlehem, PA.  The DJ asked him if he had written anything about the hurricane. He said he was working on one, but it wasn't ready yet.  He was still working on the words and wasn't yet happy with the music.  However, the DJ convinced him to play it. Today, Chuck shared the recording with some of his friends and patrons. For me, it brought back a flood of memories that prompted this blog post

I was 11 years old when Hurricane Hazel destroyed much of our chicken farm.  We were chasing chickens cleaning up the debris for weeks. There were no injuries of lives lost there in South Jersey, and as a preteen it was an adventure, more than a tragedy.

Seven years later, we were hit by a three-day nor’easter. We were about 25 miles inland and only got soaked, but the coast wasn’t as lucky. Long Beach Island (LBI), which was 18 miles long and only three blocks wide, was devastated. On the third day, at high tide, the water cut the island into three pieces, flooding the entire area, killing 32 people who ignored evacuation warnings, and causing millions of dollars in damage. About 80% of the homes and businesses on the island were either destroyed or severely damaged.

Again, as a teenager, I had heard about it and seen it on the news, but it might as well be a million miles away from Richland.

 

A dozen years later, I found myself teaching 5th-grade science on LBI. During a unit on the digestive system, the kids were struggling to grasp the material. At the time, I knew about six guitar chords and decided to write a song about a fly named Charlie who flew down the throat of the manager of a Chicken Delite. Charlie was “the fly who never returned,” and naturally, it was set to the tune of the Kingston Trio’s M.T.A. The kids loved it, and when I gave them a test, I noticed some of them quietly singing the song to themselves. That’s when I realized I was onto something.

That one song led to about 2 dozen more, a few performances, a presentation at the state teacher’s conference, and even an invitation from the local community college to conduct workshops on songwriting for kids. Most of my songs were tied to curriculum topics, but I had written a few personal ones that either never saw the light of day or were shared only with my wife and kids. There was one exception, though.

My wife’s cousin, Bobby, was a Pennsylvania state trooper. Bobby was a big guy, and nothing seemed to rattle him. During his time in Naval Intelligence, he received a commendation for quick actions during an electrical fire on a communications plane. The report described how the plane dropped 10,000 feet so quickly that the changes in pressure and temperature caused rain and snow inside the cabin as he chopped out electrical circuits.

When I asked him why he refused the commendation, he shrugged and said, “I didn’t do it for the Navy. I did it to save my ass.” Bobby later became an FBI agent and earned other commendations, but I only saw him shaken once. That was after he was sent to Johnstown, Pennsylvania, the day after six dams on the Conemaugh River failed and flooded the town.



When I spoke with him a week later, he described the devastation in a way that showed how deeply it had affected him. He was in awe of the water’s power. Bobby had taken about six dozen photos of the aftermath and sent me copies. As he walked me through each picture, I took notes, realizing that his firsthand account of a national news story could help my students understand the incredible force of water on a personal level.

Using his photos and words, I created a slideshow and narrative about what happened, how it happened, and its aftermath. Unlike my other songs, this one wasn’t inspired by the curriculum but by raw emotion. I performed it once during a school-wide assembly and never played it again.

The Flood of '77

The Conemaugh River was quiet and calm
But nature would make it her slave.
And the heat of the day and the wind through the trees
Led the way to a watery grave.

-----------------------
CHORUS-*
Many were killed and many were lost
And many must live with their fears.
We will never forget what happened that night.
Now the Valley is flooded with tears.
------------------------

It started to rain on that hot summer night.
The lightning turned night into day.
The water came down like never before.
And terror was heading this way.

CHORUS-

Just under 12 inches would fall through the night.
Ten hours was all it would take.
The water roared down from the mountains so high
Like a horrible, venous snake.
 
CHORUS-

The dams took their fill, but they just couldn't hold.
And by dawn six dams were to spill.
The waters would crush and the water would rip
And the waters would maim and would kill.

CHORUS-

This flood's not the first and it won't be the last
And the many who cheated the grave
Are safe 'till the time when nature will make
The Conemaugh river her slave.

My 2024 Bodyssey

Friends and family have accompanied me on a medical journey that began in January. As the year unfolded, the Facebook Amyloidosis-Wild Type-ATTRwt-wtATTR group became a shelter in the storm, offering me a sense of community and understanding. In reflecting on my experiences, I felt like Odysseus charting his long and perilous journey back to Ithaca. When I sat down to write about this odyssey, the result was a dry, overwhelming chronicle—a narrative that even the most dedicated reader might abandon, much like Odysseus' crew succumbing to the enchantment of the lotus-eaters. Seeking to transform my story into something more engaging, I turned to ChatGPT for help, hoping to breathe life into the telling of my Bodyssey.

In 2024, my medical journey has been nothing short of an epic odyssey—a Bodyssey, if you will. Just as Odysseus navigated his way home through trials, delays, and near disasters, I’ve spent the year traveling through a labyrinth of medical diagnoses, procedures, and appointments in search of my own version of home: stability and a clear path forward. From the stormy seas of congestive heart failure and cardiac amyloidosis to the siren calls of misdiagnosis and seemingly endless waits, each step has been a test of endurance, patience, and resolve. Like Odysseus, I’ve relied on the guidance of skilled specialists and my own advocacy to navigate these uncharted waters. While I still have a few more stops to make before my "homecoming," I’ve come to understand that this journey is as much about resilience as it is about finding answers. Through it all, this group is my Ithaca—a place where I no longer feel alone in the midst of this battle.

In late January, I encountered my first storm—a bout of pneumonia that lingered for over a month. Though I thought I’d weathered it, I soon found myself struggling with shortness of breath, as if the winds were against me. At my next appointment, a startling gain of 10 pounds in just 10 days signaled the approach of another tempest. My doctor ordered tests and prescribed Lasix to bail me out of what we soon learned was edema and congestive heart failure. That night, as I struggled to breathe lying down, it felt as though I was facing my Scylla and Charybdis. Fortunately, the Lasix worked, providing temporary calm, and the tests revealed a BNP level of 3160—my journey had truly begun.

This led to my first major checkpoint: the cardiologist, who after running tests suspected cardiac amyloidosis. Like Odysseus consulting an oracle, I began a diagnostic quest that would weave through delays, tests, and referrals. Bloodwork hinted at myeloma, and the suspected amyloidosis required confirmation. A cardiac MRI was ordered, but with the slow pace of the medical process in rural New Hampshire, I felt stranded, waiting weeks for appointments while the waves of uncertainty grew higher.

By late spring, I was referred to the Solinsky Cancer Center for oncology. Faced with a choice between an earlier appointment with a less experienced doctor and waiting longer for a specialist, I chose the first, knowing I could always seek a second opinion. The oncologist confirmed smoldering myeloma but acknowledged amyloidosis was outside her expertise. Another stop, another delay. As I waited for a bone marrow biopsy and PET scan, I felt the clock ticking louder, the sands of time slipping through my fingers.

The results were inconclusive but suggested smoldering myeloma with amyloidosis. The approach was "watchful waiting," but I felt I needed a more skilled navigator for this journey. By July, I sought the wisdom of Dana-Farber Institute in Boston—a bustling port compared to the slower pace I had endured. Within days, I met Dr. Vianna, whose confidence and clarity lifted the fog. His explanatory chart gave me a picture of what I have been and where I will be going. It is on the left half of my Facebook home page. He quickly referred me to Dr. Falk, an expert in amyloidosis, marking a pivotal moment in my Bodyssey.

Dr. Falk unraveled the mysteries of my medical past, connecting decades of symptoms to a single cause: wild-type ATTR amyloidosis. Tests including a PYP scan, cardiac biopsy, and mass spectrometry analysis by the Mayo clinic. The tests confirmed his suspicions, and a Vyndamax a pill a day, I had my treatment. But my journey wasn’t over. Alongside amyloidosis, atrial fibrillation and a bladder lesion added new challenges. When a scheduled cardioversion in New Hampshire was delayed due to a residual clot, Dr. Falk, like a trusted ally, stepped in to resolve it, restoring not just my heart’s rhythm but my hope.

By November, I had reached a turning point. With diagnoses in hand and a clearer map of the road ahead, I could finally see my way home. I had to decide on my crew for the next part of the journey. Dr. Falk arranged for local follow-ups with my trusted cardiologist, while Dr. Vianna referring me to Dr. Elizabeth O’Donnell, the head of the Center for Early Detection and Interception of Blood Cancers for oncological care, ensuring I had the best guides for this ongoing expedition. Just as Odysseus relied on the gods and his crew, I leaned on my team of specialists, grateful for their expertise.

Dr. O’Donnell, much like the other exceptional navigators I encountered at Dana-Farber, proved to be supremely equipped to guide me further along my Bodyssey. She drew a clear and reassuring chart of my smoldering myeloma, explaining that my risk of progression to multiple myeloma was low. The chart now sits alongside Dr. Vianna’s map. To confirm this, she ordered a comprehensive set of blood tests. However, the results were unreadable due to damage to the red blood cells—either a reflection of an underlying condition or a rare misstep along the way. Though this latest delay felt like another storm rising on the horizon, I have confidence that, like all the challenges before, I will endure and push forward, steadily navigating toward home.

This Bodyssey has been long and arduous, but each trial has taught me the value of persistence and the power of finding the right companions for the journey. Though my destination is still ahead, I am no longer lost at sea, and I know I’ll reach Ithaca—healthy, resilient, and ready for whatever lies beyond.

A Visit from the Secret Service

Recently, I reconnected with a high school buddy and subscribed to his Substack, Lou's Joint. His posts resonate with me on a number of levels and, in some cases, bring back memories. In his latest posts, he tells us of his visit from two FBI agents and how he fell for the Nigerian Scam back in the 90s.

I don't remember the exact date, but around the same time Lou was talking to FBI agents, I was face-to-face with two Secret Service agents. Here's the Reader's Digest version:

It was a Monday morning when I walked into the school office to sign in, and the secretary told me that the Superintendent wanted to see me right away. I headed up to the office, and when I walked in, I saw two imposing men dressed in black.

They told me that over the weekend, someone had threatened the life of President Clinton, and they had traced the computer back to our school.

I said something like, "Oh shit! I think I know where that came from." I went on to tell them about the lesson I had given the previous Friday:

"I stood in front of my class holding my keys, my wallet, and my cell phone, and I told the class I would give them all of those things before I would give them my email password. When they questioned why, I told them that if you give someone your password, they can have their lives destroyed."

"No way!" they said.

I went on to say, "I can destroy your lives with just two words." Again, they said, "No way! How?"

I just said, "All I have to do is use your email account, address it to the White House, and say, 'You're dead!' How long do you think it would be before the Secret Service was at your door?" Well, I guess I got the answer about how long it would take.

I was finding it hard to believe that one of my students would be so stupid as to do that, because they already knew about IP address tracing and the lack of anonymity online.

As it turned out, it wasn't a two-word message via email. Someone had come to the White House website where you could leave a message for the President. In the message, they ranted and threatened the life of the President, and left their email address. The email address they left was to a student in a neighboring high school, but the IP address showed it came from our school.

We went to the computer logs and traced it back to a specific computer. Apparently, two boys were enamored of the same girl, and the boy from our school wrote the message and left his rival's name. Much to my relief, it was not my lesson and not my student.

The Secret Service didn't drag him out in cuffs and left the discipline up to the school. As they left, one of the agents turned to me as he put on his aviator sunglasses and said, "Nice lesson." (Just kidding about the aviator sunglasses.)

An Open Letter to Facebook Administrators in the Raymond Area

Dear Facebook Group Administrators and Members,

 

I am penning this open letter, which I am sharing on only here on the Raymond, New Hampshire Residents group, to address a matter of growing concern. As this is a private group, Facebook's policies prevent direct sharing of this post. However, I encourage you to share this link in any other local groups you are part of.

 

I am aware that this message may come across as boastful or arrogant, but I assure you, it is not my intention. I am writing this out of necessity, not choice.

 

My journey in the online world began before the term "online" was commonplace, and possibly even before some of you were born. Since 1983, I have been involved in online community building and administration, a part of my professional life in education. I am confident that my experience in online administration surpasses most.

 

If you've been in this field as long as I have, you'll likely resonate with my observations. If you're relatively new to forum administration, please don't take my words as a personal critique.

You may have noticed an increase in fake accounts attempting to join your group, a surge in scams being posted, and a rise in the number of posts and users you've had to deny or ban. If these trends have escaped your notice, it's crucial to understand that you may be inadvertently doing a disservice to your users.

 

Starting a Facebook page or group is easy, but managing it becomes increasingly challenging as the content grows. This increased responsibility includes protecting your members from scammers and ensuring their online safety.

 

Regrettably, I've found that individuals and scams I've banned from our group are still active in other local groups. As administrators, we are the first line of defense for our users, many of whom lack the necessary online survival skills.

 

It's our duty to stay abreast of technological advancements and scammer tactics. If you're wondering why scams have become more prevalent, the answer lies in two letters: AI.

 

An old Arab proverb states:

He who knows not, and knows not he knows not, is a fool—shun him; he who knows not, and knows he knows not, he is simple—teach him; he who knows, and knows not he knows, he is asleep—wake him; he who knows, and knows he knows, he is wise—follow him.

 

In the context of Facebook administration, consider which description fits you best. If you believe you're fully informed about AI, you may need to revisit the first line. Artificial intelligence has empowered internet scammers in the same way email once did for Nigerian Princes. If this analogy confuses you, it's time to enhance your skills.

 

Over the past week, I've created numerous screen capture videos documenting my moderation activities on Raymond, New Hampshire Residents. Before investing time in editing these into a formal presentation, I want to gauge if it would be beneficial.

 

I propose a series of Zoom conferences with Facebook administrators from Raymond and nearby towns. While I bring considerable experience to the table, I am certain there is much I can learn from you. As a lifelong learner, I am acutely aware that the more I learn, the more I realize there is yet to know. I am eager to collaborate with you for the betterment of our community.

 

If you're interested, please send me a Facebook PM expressing your interest. If we're not already connected on Facebook, include the name of the group you administer, as I will need to verify your identity before responding and granting Messenger access.

 

Remember, a great leader doesn't say, "Follow me." Instead, they say, "Show me where you want to go, and I will help you get there." I don't seek followers, but I believe we can navigate this journey together.

 

Art Wolinsky 

Co-admin, Raymond, New Hampshire Residents

 

The Student Becomes the Teacher Again!

Sarah Tantillo is the author of Hit the Drum: An Insider's Account of How the Charter School Idea Became a National Movement.  

I first met Sarah around 1995 when we were both in the Long Beach Island Elementary School. I was a 5th grade teacher, and Sarah was in my student. If you had told me then that by 2021 she would have four books and be one of the nation's top experts on the charter school movement, I wouldn't have doubted you for a moment. On the other hand, if you had told me that in 2021 she would be teaching me things about my wife of almost 55 years that would give me an even greater appreciation for her, I would ask you what you were smoking, but last night she did just that.

During an interview by Michael Scotto, one of her former students, she was asked to share some insights about how a parent can best support their child in school, and she told a story that hit me like a ton of bricks. Watch this six minute segment and I'll explain. 

 

If you ask me whether I prefer vanilla or chocolate, I would simply say, "Chocolate."  If you ask my wife the same question, you will likely hear about the first time she tasted a Hershey bar, the time my son put a bowl of vanilla ice cream on his head, her introduction Neapolitan ice cream, and the plot of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Eventually, I would get the answer I was looking for five  minutes earlier. 

After listening to Sarah, I realize that at the same time she was sitting in my 5th grade classroom, Jill had been that mother in the supermarket for five years with our children. While I was teaching Sarah and the other students at LBI, Jill was laying down the educational foundation for our children in ways that I couldn't begin to match.

So after 55 years of marriage, the next time I ask my wife a simple question, instead of getting impatient when she goes on a verbal safari, I will think of Sarah, the woman in the supermarket, two amazing kids, and I will be thankful and grateful for all she has done.

Chuck Brodsky, Holocaust Awareness, and Schools

Normally, the video would come at the end of my blog post, but don't waste your time reading my words until after you watch how Chuck Brodsky helps students at the Pine School in Florida relate to the Holocaust in a unique and powerful way. 

This all started about two months ago, when I wrote about singer/song writer Chuck Brodsky, his thoughtful and reflective music. I explained how the pandemic was keeping him from touring, but how it offered a unique opportunity for schools and creative teachers to tap into a world class talent to provide a learning opportunity that would not be possible save for the pandemic.

Most of his songs are based on true stories that are windows into the human condition. They are insightful observations of life, how it is lived, and how it should be lived. I knew his songs of the Holocaust could help students connect to history in a way that no text book could ever do. I knew that if I wasn't retired, I would be looking for ways to connect Chuck with my students and give them life lessons and experiences in history, story telling, and writing in ways that could never be done through text books. 

My days in the classroom ended more than a decade ago, but my connections to schools and the like minded teachers I had worked over the years were still at it. After reaching out to Chuck with my thoughts about how his music could inspire students and offered to help connect him with schools and he took me up on my offer.

In the beginning of February, I reached out to my friend Karlheinz Haas, who was the Educational Technology Curriculum Director at Southern Regional, where I was teaching and consulting in the 90's. He's now at the Pine School in Florida where 8th grade teacher, Kim Yaris, conducts an annual Holocaust unit. 

The class had already read Eli Wiesel's "Night", done research, and had a visit from a classmate's father who was a Holocaust survivor. Kim's unit was based in story telling and after some planning it was decided that Chuck would could first conduct a Zoom concert, and perform some of his songs, tell their back stories, and answer questions as a way of leading the students into their culminating projects. Then about two weeks later he again once again met with the class for more in depth interviews about his life, his writing process, and to provide commentary and suggestions on their projects. It was one of the three most significant educational experiences of my 40+ years in education.

I documented the project and here's a 30 minute compilation of the activities. If you would like to connect Chuck before the pandemic begins to ease up and he resumes touring, you can reach him at chuck@chuckbrodsky.com .

Chuck Brodsky, the Holocaust, Civil Rights, and Songs of Hope and Inspiration

If you are reading this, it is probably because we are Facebook friends and I personally asked you to come here. It's also very likely you are a teacher and we met because of our involvement with the Internet and school change. 

I have invited you here to meet Chuck Brodsky, who I met about 20 years ago. I'm hoping he can touch and enrich you life and possibly the lives of your students, the way he has mine. I know his songs, stories, and insights into the human condition will touch your hearts and I'm hoping they might fit in your classroom or curriculum.

I hope you will take the time to explore the links here and figure out ways to use his gift to reach the hearts and minds of your students in creative and powerful ways that can't be done with the simple written word alone.

I first met Chuck around the turn of the century shortly after Pandora launched and I set up a folk channel. The first song I heard was, Radio, the story of a football coach, in Anderson, South Carolina, and a kid they called Radio. That prompted me to buy the CD and after listening to it, the possibilities for use in the classroom excited me. One thing led to another. I went to see him perform, spoke with him after the show, and began planning a cross-curricular project for the students in our high school, but I digress. Here's Chuck singing Radio.

We are in the middle of a pandemic (stated Captain Obvious), and teachers are scrambling to create engaging online lessons. Musicians, such as Chuck, who make their living performing live are in much the same boat. To make ends meet, Chuck is doing Facebook and YouTube live concerts, the concerts are free and Chuck asks that you tip as you see fit. He also has all of his songs available to download, and I've been introducing him to educators who can tap into the richness of his songs and stories. 

I'm willing to bet that many, if not most of you will become Chuck Brodsky fans, and I hope you will use his songs in your classes. If you do you can support him in many ways.  Simply paying $1 to download one of his songs from Band Camp https://chuckbrodsky.bandcamp.com  would help, but I'm betting some of you have the wheels turning about a Zoom concert.

You could spend the next week listening to his songs just to figure out which ones might suit your curriculum, but I know you don't have that kind of time.  However, I do, and I know half of his songs by heart. There are at least two dozen songs that would overlap in a number of places and cover topics such as the holocaust, civil rights, values, immigration and more, including the division in our country today.

I've put together a short description of at least two-dozen songs on the topics listed above, along with links to them. If you are interested saving yourself hours of work locating the right songs for you and getting a copy of the list, or have any questions about the education potential, feel free to email me at awolinsky@3dwriting.com. 

Oh, and by the way, if you are thinking about songs that will excite your class about song writing or poetry, there a few dozen more that would fit the bill.  

If there is a silver lining in this Covid-19 cloud, it is that you have an opportunity to bring a world class talent into your classroom via Zoom at a school budget price. If you're interested in having Chuck work with you students, you can contact him directly at chuck@chuckbrodsky.com . 

Stay safe! Stay healthy! Stay sane!