It's been a while

I haven't written anything for some time. The Marin Progressive blog has taken my spare writing energy--or at least my editing energy.

A lot has happened in my life in the last few months, but I think the most significant was the visit by my cousin. This takes a bit of telling of history: In 1954, I graduated high school in south Texas. Intending to learn more about radio and electronics technology--by this time I had been an amateur radio operator for four years and already had my Second Class Radiotelegraph and First Class Radiotelephone commercial licenses--I moved to New York City, enrolled in a school, RCA Institutes, and also began working at RCA on shipboard radar and communications equipment.

For younger readers, in those days most overseas travel was still by ship. International air travel was expensive and not very available. Jet planes were limited to the military and passenger planes were all propeller driven.

In New York, I lived with my aunt, the doyen of the Steinberger (My mother's) family.

When I finished my studies and was ready to return to Corpus Christi, aunt Fanny and I crossed the Brooklyn-Battery tunnel to visit my uncle Joe and his family. There were two children, only slightly younger than I, Claire and David. Joe's wife was pregnant with a third child.

I did return to Texas and spent the next year helping to build the first color television station in the area, KSIX-TV. At the end, I decided to enlist in the US Air Force. Not only was I potentially liable to be drafted, I also really admired the Air Force. After basic training, I was sent to a techincal school.

While there I made the decision to convert from Judaism to Christianity. I won't go into all the reasons at this time. They are irrelevant to my story--though I may touch on it in another context some other time. But when I told my mother about this, she immediately followed the tradition in which I became dead to her. Not only did she sit in mourning, but she also informed all her family.

This was 1957. From that point, the only member of the family with whom I had continued contact was my aunt Pearl. Pearl was the "black sheep" of the family. She and I visited on three occasions and had phone conversations at other times.

In 2006, aunt Pearl called me and during the conversation, she implored me to make contact with some of my cousins. She gave me the phone numbers and I did as she suggested. One of those cousins was Ruth. In December, I went to Florida, where Pearl had retired, to visit. On the way, I stopped in Tulsa Oklahoma for one day to visit Ruth.

Even though we only had 14-16 hours together, by the end of that time we both knew we had a special feeling; a chemistry that one rarely achieves. Since then I have been trying to get Ruth to take a vacation, come out to California for a visit and relax. It took until September for all my cajoling, begging and pleading to bear fruit.

Ruth is driven by her call to protect animals from cruelty. It is not enough to be a vegetarian, or to rant and rave about the subject. Ruth has spear-headed the drive for low-cost spay/neuter clinics in rural and low-income areas of Oklahoma. Under her guidance and with her organizing skills she has created a network of clinics that now has done over 25,000 operations. But she has done this at great sacrifice of her energy, and stress.

She came for only two days, and even then had to field several phone calls on her ever-present iPhone. But she did come. We spent two days getting to know each other better and confirming the earlier feelings. The bond is strong and I am grateful to have her as a cousin--or in any relationship. At some point I may blog again and at length about her accomplishments.