An earthquake, off the coast of Chili, generates a Tsunami headed toward Hawaii, scheduled to arrive in six to eight hours, nothing between the two land masses; just imagine what it must have been like in the days of Magellan. Sailing on the Pacific Ocean, named for peace and quiet, lack of storms, and monotony of days. Suddenly there occurs a rogue wave, higher than the poop deck, more threatening than a loaded pistol held to the buccaneer's head; this is what happens each and every day during the lives of individuals.

Dear Louie,

Patients get sick and sicker in January and February than in May and June. I initially became aware of this while on the island of Attu in 1945. While on the island, as a member of the US Navy, I became aware of the moist cold of the Arctic Sea. I arrived in Attu in December of 1945 and on getting off the DC-3 I was cold. I shivered and almost shook, under my breath, I mumbled that the war was global in nature, “and why in the hell did I draw the short straw for the North Pacific” when the South Pacific beckoned. I was cold on arrival and remained cold until May when I departed for the States.

Perhaps only in a small town does a doctor have the opportunity to truly know the patients - for, quite often, the patients have been a part of that doctor’s life from childhood on. Read “That’s How Life Works” for this special look at practicing as a small-town doc.

Long before emergency rooms and urgent care centers, there were house calls. In this Letter to Louie, JLA recalls house calls of the past and brings up the need to keep the homes of our older loved ones or disabled adults safe with some very simple but important safety tips.

Dear Louie,

You may be gone, but I need you- to listen, to smile, to understand. And so I again write to you, my friend, to guide me at this time of true trial and tribulation as I guided you through your prolonged trip through the “Vale of Tears.”

It is amazing just how negligent one can easily become at this stage of life. Negligence in any action; negligent to volunteer, negligent to act, negligent to write, to read; negligent in all aspects, but critical in so much. The older one becomes, the more difficult it is to accomplish, even the most simple of tasks, but we must. The featured image is a picture of JLA at the age of 93 - working on sanding wood for the deck of his cottage.

I recall the construction of the eight - family housing during the early 1950’s when the community was initially stretching itself into the post war era of expansion. This expansion was stimulated by the release of pent-up hormones and youth. For years, the youth of the time had been affected by war and contained; contained by constraints of regimentation, and social restraint. Finally released back into society after the four most violent years of history, followed by two or three years of readjustment and redirection, the young, youthful, energetic men and women settled back and began to procreate as well as recreate. With the explosive procreation, the need for housing exploded and many small units were developed.

Memories are strange, and we never know what current event will trigger something from the past. In this Letter to Louie, present day Olympic events remind JLA of a high school track meet, and a running friend who was a fantastic miler. Unfortunately, this runner was killed in action in WWII, shortly after high school. This loss affected JLA for a lifetime, making him realize the fragility of life, the luck of the draw, and the importance of gratitude for life itself.

All of us need someone to talk to from time to time. And, most of us ask a friend’s advice when we need it. But what about the people who won’t be heard unless we make a special effort to talk to them, see them, and truly listen? This Letter to Louie explores just that… the art of listening more.

This Letter to Louie examines one of the most important questions of all time… what generation will be the generation that will bring peace to the world? A moving and insightful look at the seemingly perpetual cycle of war and its casualties… on the battle field and off.

Mankind has historically survived difficult times. In this letter, we see an in depth look at how hard work, determination, and the human spirit propelled many out of the tough times of the 30s and 40s. The spirit of the times is something we can all learn a thing or two from.

We all hold memories inside that are awakened by everyday objects, smells, or experiences. It’s funny how something like a grilled cheese sandwich can drum up memories of the past.

The answer we’ve all been waiting for! Was Louie real?

As the world population has grown, now by alarming numbers, one is left with fear and alarm at gatherings of any major magnitude. One’s mere presence in a crowd becomes the cause of some degree of fear, especially as one ages, as one becomes less agile, and as one loses the strength and ability to respond to changing circumstances. Crowds are unpredictable, controlling, and digest the members who constitute the crowd.

Christmases are often saved by friends and acquaintances, by neighbors and relatives, by events and memories. I recall Christmas Eve at the old St. Kilian’s Church. Usually, it was packed for the Midnight Service. Usually, it was cold for the first hour but was warmed by the closely seated congregation.

In my experience of fifty years of active practice, and now ten years of active observation, I have been unable to come to a better directive than the direction given by my aging father many hears ago when he said, “There is only one way to the age, that is day by day - but damn it do something, accomplish some task each day and enjoy work.”

Many mornings I meet with five or six men, for coffee and conversation which and many times includes memories of the great war. I am sharing some of their stories with my Grandson as he learns about WWII.

Pearl Harbor is a day that I will never forget. It was a day that changed everything and my friends and I knew that within three years we would all be drafted and become soldiers.

And why are we moving? The move is precipitated by aging and health events, the probability of needing family help from caregivers living in another area, and the increasing fear of disability and dependance. We are changing, we have become near dependent on others for maintenance, for activity, for needs, for most everything; and if not truly dependent associated diseases of aging pose a daily threat of dependence.

This coming weekend, beginning on Friday will mark the 22nd year during which Dorothy and I will participate in the Hartford Christmas Committee. I wrote this to record the process and to make all aware of one great reason why we have never gone south before Christmas Day. Sort of stuck in tradition, a Hartford tradition. The world is large, home is small, but family and residents live on.