My Friend John Messer's Letters from Ukraine

 

I have been blessed with some of the best friends on God's green earth.

There's nothing I love more than bragging on my friends.

Talented, smart, funny, committed, loyal, curious, and kind.  Those are a few of the words that kinda sum up characteristics they have in common.

John Messer is all of these things and so much more.

I met him back in the 70s.  He was dating a good friend of mine.  I was going through a divorce.

John and his then partner, Michael, became part of a family I chose - and was lucky enough to have them choose me, shelter me, feed me.

I knew I was always welcome at their door, no matter the day, or the time.

They hosted glorious dinner parties, introduced me to the symphony, live theater, fine restaurants.

There were raucous times as well which included crazy wild clothes, make-up, bright lights and dancing.

Vacations at the beach, trips to the mountains, hot tub nights.  

If I wasn't able to get home to Maryland for holidays, I knew I could count at a place at their table for birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas.  If my Mom and Dad made it to Atlanta for those holidays, they were included around the table.  They knew I was in good hands with John Messer; they loved him as if he were a son.

Over the years things changed, of course.

But John was still there.  We became separated by miles as we moved away from Atlanta, but the strong ties will always remain.  We may not chat as often as we once did, but I have never ever for one minute stop believing that he's there if I need him.

My Dad died before I met Donald, so John was the one walk me down the aisle when Donald and I got married.  He hosted our wedding reception.

He flew into Atlanta to host the memorial service for my mom.

And he has lived life to the fullest more than anyone I know.

He's a world traveler.  He's always learning new things whether it might be photography lessons, wine classes, piano lessons, yoga, cooking classes including following his dream of becoming a Cordon Bleu Culinary School graduate.

And he volunteers.  Lordy, does he volunteer.

He has always volunteered his time and energy to causes he believes in.  From being central to the opening of a home for AIDS patients in Atlanta to his current on-going activities of  volunteering his time as a chef for not-for-profit fundraisers, ESOL instructor for immigrants living in the state of Maine, Board Member of an immigrant advocacy not-for-profit in Maine, and a volunteer in refugee camps in the EU.

I never know where his next note might arrive from - India where he's visiting orphanages where he's feeding and teaching children.  Greece where he's working with refugees.  Or, most lately, Poland, where he is once again working with refugees.  

He has agreed to allow me to share some of his notes and photos.

  WITH APOLOGIES for some pretty awful formatting issues that I take partial blame for and blame the rest on Blogger.  I did try to remove some of the repeats, but then more than I wanted to remove would also disappear. 

If photos don't load, try refreshing the page. If they still won't load <sigh> my apologies.  Enjoy the notes.

And thanks for stopping by!

And now . . .  Here's John!

 

Dear family: 

Day One: Arrived last night in Warsaw, 25 hours after catching the bus in Portland to Boston Logan, checked in, drank Polish vodka, went to sleep. Beautiful mid-size hotel.  The building was originally the residence of a well to do Jewish family.. built in 1903…..it’s not clear what happened to the family during the war.  The Allied forces bombed it in 1944…the Polish government took it over after the war…restored it and converted it into a Polish Socialist Government building.  In the 1970’s, the original family sued and recovered the property.  

Got up early and had the best scrambled eggs ever.  They were almost orange.  I asked the young man at the front desk if he had any ideas on where I might go to volunteer with the Ukrainian refugees.  He stared into space for a long pregnant moment and then replied, “I have no idea.”  So I left the hotel and walked about 2 miles to the PGE Norodowy Stadium, the largest soccer stadium in the EU, where many of the Ukrainian refugees in the city are living.  I kept asking around and knocking on office doors until I found the World Central Kitchen food trucks, and, with the help of Google Translator, was able to meet the site manager, Adam, whose English was pretty good.  He said he didn’t need anymore volunteers, but he gave me the name and phone number of one of the World Central Kitchen Country Managers in Poland.  I went to some other food trucks at the stadium and left several cards. I felt a bit like some guy out of work knocking on doors…which was ok.  By the time I walked back to my hotel, I was frozen and jet lagged, so I crashed for several hours.

When I awoke, I texted the country manager for WCK and headed out by foot to the Central Rail Station.  There I was interviewed and asked to come back at 6 pm to work the 6 to midnight shift in a “gastro tent".  But then I got a text from Kate, the WCK country manager.  She said they had just posted openings at their main kitchen (read: industrial strength kitchen) at the border in Przemyśl, pronounced SHEH-muh-shl….so I jumped online and grabbed slots through Sunday, April 10th….flying home on the 11th.

Checked out of the hotel, got a cab to the car rental office…waited an hour to speak to someone who told me that they had no cars…even though I had a reservation.  Oy. By then it was 5 pm, and I had a 4 1/2 hour drive to my hotel in Rzeszów (pronounced JHA-shov) as there are no rooms in Przemyśl.  I was pissed, cold and hangry so I went back to my hotel and re-checked in.  Will pick up an Avis rental at the airport in the morning and head out.

I don’t imagine that I will be sending detailed emails each day as each day is an 11 hour shift, and Rzeszów is one hour away from Przemyśl…but I will send photos and much love.

More later.

  

Day 3….my team was charged with two tasks…making 5,000 sandwiches and coring and slicing one ton of apples.  I was asked if I would wash the apples.  “Sure”…turns out this entailed dumping each crate into a large strainer, washing it with a powerful water hose, shaking the water out and schleping it each persons station to keep them supplied with apples.  My back is sore.

Above, Chef Hoyos

Don’t none of you bitches complain about washing dishes no more.

2,000 and counting...

bacon and chicken soup

More later… these days are long…11 hours in the kitchen and a one hour drive each way.

Day 4

Sorry for the lack of emails.  I am so exhausted when I get to my apartment at night, I can barely get the beer to my mouth before I fall asleep.  But every morning I awake with all the energy in the world…I can’t remember such a sustained “high” in my life.  I fell like pinching myself.  Here I am with about 100 strangers, and suddenly everyone is best friends, cooperating and working towards a common goal….. to feed cold, traumatized, displaced persons from Ukraine. 

So many stories, not so many photos.  I will sit her with my 12 inch tall mug of beer and send a few photos a few at a time with a caption for each in a couple of successive emails.  Sorry, but they are not going to be in any necessary order.  Here we go…..

The weather….dear heavens…the weather has been so horrible.  

It is either really cold and pouring down rain or even colder and snowing.  

And while most people are coming across the eight crossings into Poland by bus, 

many come by foot…with luggage and children and occasionally a dog.

The housing situation is absolutely insane here in Przemyśl…

as one can imagine.  One of the major freeways connecting 

Ukraine and Poland is just north of this city of 60,000.  

I have been bouncing around from apartment to apartment…

whatever I can find on a daily basis.  All of these buildings have been 

around for such a long, long time.  And I am overwhelmed by the 

sense of all the Jewish families who lived in these apartments when 

the Eisenstadtgruppe first marched through when Hitler broke his 

promise in the Molotov Agreement not to attack Russia….

the Final Solution had just been settled upon and Operation 

Barbarossa had just begun.  The city had about 40,000 people at the 

time, and 17,000 of them were Jews.  I keep thinking of the 

Jewish families sitting terrified and worried in these apartments 

where I am staying.. that that knock would come on the door….

and then it did.  Of the 17,000, only about 100 survived.  

And the Jews did not come back.  

Poland is practically devoid of Jewish communities today.

On Apr 1, 2022, at 9:43 PM, John Messer  wrote:

Wonderful day working with lots of different chefs.

 

On Sunday I’ll be moving to the town where I work, cutting out 2 hours of

 

driving each day.

The town where I work has a wonderful piece of history. 

When the Einsatzgruppe made their first attempt to round up the

 

Jews of the town at the beginning of Operation Barbarossa,

 

a German officer stop them, blocking their way across a bridge….

 

alleging that he must keep them as laborers…saving many lives.  

 

Yad Vashem named him Righteous Among Nations.

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John Messer	Apr 5, 2022, 2:53 PM (21 hours ago)
to

Quite a few of the volunteers that are here have some sort to 

Ukrainian or Polish connection through their families.  

The woman with the short black hair, Tanya, was born in 

Kharkiv, Ukraine…after her Bubbie died, her family moved 

to the U.S.  She’s been back here since the bombing started 

working for World Central Kitchen (WCK).  

Today, she pulled a team together to chop cabbage, beets, 

carrots, potatoes, etc. and make her sweet Bubbie’s recipe 

for borscht.  It was a dream for her.  

She was  meticulous is the size of the cut of the vegetables…

to the point of driving the head Chef meshuga.  

She had to get it right.  

We had cooked and separated large hunks of beef, 

fat and grizzle the night before…so she had the perfect 

beef broth.  It was just beyond fabulous.

The gal I am hugging above is my new BFF…..

Rachel, a private chef from Bozeman, Montana.  She is a piece of work.  

Single Mom of two grown boys.  

John Messer

On Apr 5, 2022, at 8:37 PM, John Messer  wrote:

This is a bcc email.

Sorry for the lack of emails.  I am so exhausted when I get

 

to myapartment at night, I can barely get the beer to my mouth

 

before I fall asleep.  But every morning I awake with all the

 

energy in the

 World…I can’t remember such a sustained “high” in

 my life. 

 I fell like pinching myself.  Here I am with about

 100 strangers, and 

suddenly everyone is best friends, cooperating and

 working towards a 

common goal….. to feed cold, traumatized, displaced

 persons from 

Ukraine. 

So many stories, not so many photos.  I will sit her with my 12 inch

 

tall mug of beer and send a few photos a few at a time with a

 

caption for each in a couple of successive emails.

 

 Sorry, but they are not going to be in any necessary order.  

 

Here we go…..

John Messer

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The weather….dear heavens…the weather has been so horrible.  

 

It is either really cold and pouring down rain or even colder and

 

snowing.  And while most people are coming across the eight

 

crossings into Poland by bus, many come by foot…

 

with luggage and children and occasionally a dog.

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<IMG_5474.jpeg>

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John Messer	Apr 5, 2022, 2:59 PM (21 hours ago)
to

The French are coming….Macron sent his personal chef 

(in selfie below with me….I am such a famous chef groupie) and about 

7 other chefs along with several trailers of frozen food that went on

 the L’viv….

Sweet Jesus… I so hope there was no foie gras in the trailers.

famous French chefs peeling carrots

Famous French chefs coring apples for baby food...

And me and Macron’s main man

On Apr 5, 2022, at 8:37 PM, John Messer  wrote:

This is a bcc email.

Sorry for the lack of emails.  I am so exhausted when I get to my

 

apartment at night, I can barely get the beer to my mouth before

 

I fall asleep.  But every morning I awake with all the energy in the

 

world…I can’t remember such a sustained “high” in my life.

 

 I fell like pinching myself.  Here I am with about 100 strangers,

 

and suddenly everyone is best friends, cooperating and working

 

towards a common goal….. to feed cold, traumatized, displaced

 

persons from Ukraine. 

So many stories, not so many photos.  I will sit her with my 12 inch

 

tall mug of beer and send a few photos a few at a time with a

 

caption for each in a couple of successive emails.  

 

Sorry, but they are not going to be in any necessary order.  

 

Here we go…..

John Messer

<IMG_5462.jpeg>

The weather….dear heavens…the weather has been so horrible.  

 

It is either really cold and pouring down rain or even colder and

 

snowing.  And while most people are coming across the eight

 

crossings into Poland by bus, many come by foot…

 

with luggage and children and occasionally a dog.

<IMG_5520.jpeg>

<IMG_5474.jpeg>

<IMG_5517.jpeg>

John Messer	Apr 5, 2022, 3:11 PM (21 hours ago)
to

Yesterday afternoon, the Head Chef, Chef Karla Hoyos…

(SLL Miami Beach….works for Chef José Andrés)… 

and I went to the border to check on the locations… 

we stopped at what used to be a shopping mall in Przemyśl 

and is now housing refugees on wall to wall cots…

there were children playing everywhere, classrooms, medical offices, 

food facilities, etc.  Then we went on the the border… it was surreal….

once they get off the buses or walk through in the freezing cold, 

they are quickly processed and come into what is a camp of sorts…

there are streets lined with NFP’s and NGO’s welcoming them with food, 

hot chocolate, tea and coffee, clothes, luggage, tents to warm up in, 

clothes, blankets…it felt like a weekend art’s fair with all the side by 

side booths…

but the booths were there to take care of these people…..

there was a place for them to sleep and then be moved out by buses 

for other cities where they could stay.  

Karla and I were allowed to walk through the border to Ukraine 

to check on the WCK location just on the other side of the border.

Everyone comes through this gate into the camp.

On Apr 5, 2022, at 8:37 PM, John Messer wrote:

This is a bcc email.

Sorry for the lack of emails.  I am so exhausted when I get to my

 

apartment at night, I can barely get the beer to my mouth before

 

I fall asleep.  But every morning I awake with all the energy in the

 

world…I can’t remember such a sustained “high” in my life.  I fell

 

like pinching myself.  Here I am with about 100 strangers, and

 

suddenly everyone is best friends, cooperating and working

 

towards a common goal….. to feed cold, traumatized, displaced

 

persons from Ukraine. 

So many stories, not so many photos.  I will sit her with my 12

 

inch tall mug of beer and send a few photos a few at a time with a

 

caption for each in a couple of successive emails.  Sorry, but they

 

are not going to be in any necessary order.  Here we go…..

John Messer

<IMG_5462.jpeg>

The weather….dear heavens…the weather has been so horrible.  

 

It is either really cold and pouring down rain or even colder and

 

snowing.  And while most people are coming across the eight

 

crossings into Poland by bus, many come by foot…with luggage

 

and children and occasionally a dog.

<IMG_5520.jpeg>

<IMG_5474.jpeg>

<IMG_5517.jpeg>

John Messer	Apr 5, 2022, 3:23 PM (21 hours ago)
to

And food, food, glorious food….by the ton.

 This team makes 5,000 sandwiches a day.

My new friend Lucy and a Polish reporter

My new buddy, Jamie, cutting bread pudding.   

Lots and lots of bread pudding so as to not waste all the bread that

 goes stale.

Yesterday, Rachel and I were told to “go and attack the carrots”…..

I love these two pictures.  We cored and cut the apples, steamed the 

apples, 

puréed the apples with a 3 foot immersion blenders and packages 

them up for all the Ukrainian babies.

On Apr 5, 2022, at 8:52 PM, John Messer  wrote:

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April - National Poetry Month

 

For the past few years, I've celebrated National Poetry Month by posting a piece of poetry every day, during the month of April.

This year . . .

I forgot.

Dang.

So, here's one of my favorites, by one of my favorite poets.

Enjoy!

Field Guide by Tony Hoagland

Once, in the cool blue middle of a lake,

up to my neck in that most precious element of all,

I found a pale-gray, curled-upwards pigeon feather

floating on the tension of the water

at the very instant when a dragonfly,

like a blue-green iridescent bobby pin,

hovered over it, then lit, and rested.

That’s all.

I mention this in the same way

that I fold the corner of a page

in certain library books,

so that the next reader will know

where to look for the good parts.

Authors for Ukraine Charity Auction

 This auction just started today and has already raised over $5,000.  

I am so proud to be included.

"The brainchild of mystery author Amy Patricia Meade, Authors for Ukraine was born on February 24, 2022, when Russia invaded Ukraine.

Tired of watching helplessly as a multitude of horrors were inflicted upon innocent people, Authors for Ukraine decided they needed to actively do something, however small it might be.

And so they banded together and utilized the best tools they had: their words - and their signatures.

Authors for Ukraine now boasts 170+ authors from across the US, Canada, and the UK in genres such as mystery, horror, romance, fantasy, and children's fiction.

Thank you for visiting and please remember that this auction is for charity. An enticement, an incitement even, to donate to a charitable cause to benefit refugees in Europe's darkest hours since World War II.

Authors for Ukraine Charity gives readers the opportunity to bid on SIGNED AND DEDICATED books by over 170 of their favorite authors as well as discover and support works by writers who might be new to them.

All proceeds from this auction benefit CARE's Ukraine Crisis Fund, which strives to reach 4 million with immediate aid and recovery, food, water, hygiene kits, psychosocial support, and cash assistance — prioritizing women and girls, families, and the elderly. https://www.care.org/

CARE is a Charity Navigator four-star rated charity.

https://www.charitynavigator.org/ein/131685039

To minimize expenses for our authors, who are donating not only their time and work, but all shipping costs, THIS AUCTION IS LIMITED TO RESIDENTS OF THE US AND CANADA. If you are outside this area and wish to help, please click the 'Donate' button.

Thank you again and please bid generously!"

Losing weight is hard

 

Damn right it is.

Anyone who has tried knows the struggle.

And anyone who has done it, only to have the pounds creep back (like me) knows how frustrating and depressing it can be.

I was a skinny little kid.

A skinny adolescent.

A skinny teen.

A skinny college girl.

A skinny bride (three times).

Until all of a sudden, toward the end of my '40s,  all those years of eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, came to a crashing end.

Because I had never counted a calorie or worried about a carb I truly had no clue about what I needed to do.

And so began my years of off and on dieting.

Name a diet, I have done it.

And they worked.   Every single one of them.

Until I stopped the diet and went right back to what I had done for more than half my life - eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

And then, almost always, the diet cycle is triggered by a picture taken of me that clearly lets me know I need to lose a few (or more than a few) pounds.

And so goes the cycle.

This time it was a photo or two taken at Topsail Island last September.

http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2021/09/what-we-did-on-our-summer-vacation.html

What can I say.

I like to eat.

I love good food.

I love junk food.

I have an appetite that rivals the biggest truck driver you've ever seen.

Food is how I celebrate any and all occasions - even the ones I make up.

Feeding friends around our table is one of my greatest pleasures.

Having to stifle all that somewhat just pisses me off.

But, ya do whatcha gotta do.

And I have a favorite pair of jeans that I'm itching to get back into . . .  

So.

Between September 19, 2021 and today, March 26, 2022, I have lost 20 pounds, with more to go.

Slowly.  Very slowly.

But fairly steady.

Some weeks I might lose a half a pound.  Some weeks I might gain two pounds.

But 20 pounds lost is 20 pounds lost.

It's a win.

This time I'm simply keeping a daily log at loseit.com .   There are two versions, a free version which is what I'm using, and an upgraded version with some bells and whistles which you can pay for.

And I'm logging in every single bite, every single calorie.  If I go over my calorie allotment for the day, which, of course is going to happen, I try to do better the next day.  If I have a not so great week, I move on, put it behind me and keep my goal in mind.  Those favorite jeans I want to get back into.

Will I be successful in keeping the weight off this time?

Hell, I don't know, but why jinx it??

Just lose the damn weight.  

Those are the words I'm saying to myself these days - "Just lose the damn weight."

I have not cut one thing out of my diet.  I just don't have certain things as often as I'd like.  

When I have ice cream, I have a smaller serving and I log the calories.

And I look at some before and after pics.

Am I ever going to be that skinny girl again?

No.

But I'm damn sure gonna be the woman I want to be.  Wearing a favorite pair of jeans with my cowboy boots.

Yeehaw, honey.

 RIP Ms. Albright

Asked by USA Today in August 2020 how she defined courage, Albright replied, "it's when you stand up for what you believe in when it's not always easy and you get criticized for it."

"It took me a long time to find my voice. But having found it, I'm not going to shut up," Albright said. "I'm going to use it to the best of my ability in terms of making sure that democracy is our form of government and that those around the world that want to live in a democracy have a possibility to do so."

There are some very ignorant members of today's congress  trying to make a mockery of all the things Madeleine Albright stood for.  Don't let them win.

In Honor of International Women's Day

 19th Amendment Ragtime Parade by Marilyn Chin 

Birthday, birthday, hurray, hurray

The 19th Amendment was ratified today

Drum rolls, piano rolls, trumpets bray

The 19th Amendment was ratified today

Left hand bounces, right hand strays

Maestro Joplin is leading the parade

Syncopated hashtags, polyrhythmic goose-steps

Ladies march to Pennsylvania Avenue!

Celebrate, ululate, caterwaul, praise

Women’s suffrage is all the rage

Sisters! Mothers! Throw off your bustles

Pedal your pushers to the voting booth

Pram it, waltz it, Studebaker roadster it

Drive your horseless carriage into the fray

Prime your cymbals, flute your skirts

One-step, two-step, kick-ball-change

Castlewalk, Turkey Trot, Grizzly Bear waltz

Argentine Tango, flirty and hot

Mommies, grannies, young and old biddies

Temperance ladies sip bathtub gin

Unmuzzle your girl dogs, Iowa your demi-hogs

Battle-axe polymaths, gangster moms

Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Lucy Burns and Carrie Chapman Catt

Alice Paul, come one, come all! 

Sign the declaration at Seneca Falls!

                                                                                                          

Dada-faced spinsters, war-bond Prufrocks

Lillian Gish, make a silent wish

Debussy Cakewalk, Rachmaninoff rap

Preternatural hair bobs, hamster wheels     

Crescendos, diminuendos, maniacal pianos

Syncopation mad, cut a rug with dad!

Oompa, tuba, majorette girl power

Baton over Spamalot!

Tiny babies, wearing onesies

Raise your bottles, tater-tots!

Accordion nannies, wash-board symphonies

Timpani glissando!

                    The Great War is over!

Victory, freedom, justice, reason

Pikachu, sunflowers, pussy hats

Toss up your skull caps, wide brim feathers

Throwing shade on the seraphim

Hide your cell phones, raise your megaphones!

Speak truth to power

                           and vote, vote vote!

WARNING:

Nitwit legislators, gerrymandering fools

Dimwit commissioners, judicial tools

Toxic senators, unholy congressmen

Halitosis ombudsmen, mayoral tricks

Doom calf demagogues, racketeering mules

Whack-a-mole sheriffs, on the take

Fornicator governators, rakehell collaborators

Tweeter impersonators, racist prigs

Postbellum agitators, hooligan aldermen

Profiteering warmongers, Reconstruction dregs

 

Better run, rascals     better pray

We’ll vote you out      on judgement day!

Better run, rascals      better pray

We’ll vote you out       on election day!

French Chocolates by Ellen Bass

 

If you have your health, you have everything

is something that's said to cheer you up

when you come home early and find your lover

arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails

because you can't stop smudging the stars

on those ten teeny American flags.

I don't begrudge you your extravagant vitality.

May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals

of your cardiovascular excellence

and the accordion polka of your lungs

sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.

But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire

like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,

with bones brittle as spun sugar,

with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,

may you be spared from friends who say,

God doesn't give you more than you can handle

and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut

and give you French chocolates and daffodils

and maybe a small, original Matisse,

say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out

at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.

- by Ellen Bass

Open Window, Collioure by Matisse, 1905