(25th Reunion of the Lehigh University School of Engineering? Undated, possibly 1924? J.B. Socotra is in the middle, 5th from the left, second row).

It was an emotional weekend, with barbaric Islamic terror against innocent civilians sandwiched between a soaring and somber Catholic Funeral Mass and the dramatic strains of angelic voices rising in praise of God at the Kennedy Center. The Kennedy Center resounded with the ethereal sound of praise to God in the original German of the Brahm’s Requiem.

The three events made me consider that the legacy of Christianity and the civilization of the West is a pretty cool thing, and Islamic terrorism is not. We have been fighting it since

It is a sign of the times that I weighed the options of being armed myself, and getting in deep trouble with the District, or accepting the idea that if the assholes decided to attack the crowded venue- as they mentioned again was their direct intent- I would be in less legal trouble if I just got shot than attempted to fight back. In the end I decided to obey the law, and did not hear until later that the city of Washington had been specifically threatened by the dirt-bags. A factor for future travel planning, for sure.

But for all that, it was, on the whole, a marvelous weekend to treasure the civilization of the West, and to show contempt for the barbarians who think they will overwhelm us this time. They have tried so many times before, after all, and after writing about the triumph of arms that won the war against Fascism so much, it is a little surreal to beleive that we are like the good citizens of Vienna with the Sultan at the gate. Only the City Council opened it to him.

I think they are of the opinion that Europe is tired, and ill, and they can fill it up and replace the citizens of those former Imperial powers with their own, impose Sharia Law, and establish their Caliphate.

Apparently they think that about us, too. I am going to demur on that point, but will concede that until we can actually say what it is that we are fighting, it might be a little difficult. You know I don’t want to be insensitive or fail to check my free-citizen privilege or challenge the jihadi safe place.

I know, I know. Even making fun of the stupidity is galling. Life in America is not supposed to be a suicide pact.

But between the Christian bookends of the weekend, I happened upon something that sparked some memories. I was able to get all the cars out of the garage so I could start sorting the pile of stuff that has not been looked at since I closed the estate in the Little Village By The Bay. I didn’t make much of an impact- last cutting of the pastures and lawn at the farm took precedence- but I actually looked at the big laundry hamper that Mom had filled with envelope and papers. I took the large dark one on top, that being my usual response to crisis, and pried open the little brass clasp that held it closed. Inside were four mounted pictures that had obviously once been in frames, probably on the walls of my grandfather’s office in New Jersey. I challenge you to look at these and not recall an America that was confident, had a visual, worked hard and knew the value of an education that was paid for.

Grandfather was “J.B.,” from “James Burr Socotra,” He was an engineer- a practical one- with training at Lehigh University, Class of 1899. Grandfather wound up leaving the central Pennsylvania farm country of Shippensburg to join the Western Electric Corporation, the equipment arm of The Bell System in New Jersey, where he was what we would call today a network engineer. He traveled the world as part of his job, installing the telephone systems in Panama, Bermuda, and Rio de Janeiro, among others. The motion pictures of his departure for Bermuda, complete with pith helmet (we were always early adopters of technology) are in the family archives someplace, and should be digitized. it was always a show in West Webster, New York, when we visited and Uncle jim would drag out the antique 35mm film projector to show us Grandfather sailing away on the steamship to bring technology to a developing world.

That is what these men did. I came across them in a dark envelop at the top of a stack of such envelops in the estate office where they had been placed with the detritus from Mom’s office. I did not have time this weekend to get into detail on the contents of anything else- the pastures needed their last cut of the season. There are notebooks and diaries and many more pictures in the basket, but this set was the first.

They are the evidence of the reunions in the middle age of these classmates, as they made their mark on the world- marrying, raising children, and bringing on the wonders- and horrors- of the 20th century.

Class of ’99 gathers for their 30th reunion in Jume of 1929, just before the Stockmarket Crash that ushered in the Great Depression. James Burr is second from right in the second row.

A more intimate touch for the 35th reunion of the Class of ’99 at the residence of Mr. E. J. Grace on June 9th, 1934. That was the year Adolf Hitler consolidated his power as Chancellor and President in Germany and the world began to unravel. J.B. is second from right in the top row.

The last in the series. The 40th Reunion on 10 June 1939. The Japanese are already at war in China. The Nazis are about to blow Europe wide open. J.B. is at the extreme left of the first row. There are no more photos in the stream, since Grandfather would not survive to attend another.

These are times that make me think those old challenges were fairly straightforward, but you have to forgive me. I think the ones we face are, too.

Copyright 2015 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303