Reflections on Between The World And Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

Our Presbyterian Church Peace and Social Justice Ministry elected to read Between The World And Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates along with another congregation. Our interim pastor returned from the Big Tent with this book on the suggested reading list.

Our church is a metro multi-cultural congregation, 78% African-Americans, 15% whites. and 5% Hispanics. The participating congregation is a suburban, white church.


At the first of four scheduled meetings, there were four African-American males present, one under thirty, one who had lived during the Jim Crow era in Tennessee.There were three African-American females, five white males and four white females.


The book by The Atlantic Journalist, Ta-Nehisi Coates, is in  a letter format to his fifteen year old son within the backdrop of police killings of African-American males and fear of losing the body and its destruction. Reading this book would challenge some deeply held beliefs. As a member of the so called Mature/Silent generation, I wondered what  common ground or perspective I would share with Author Coates whose age places him in Generation X . Most of all what might I learn from a justice perspective.

Born and raised in the Jim Crow South where I spent a third of my life, the legal racial caste system defined my relationships. My school and community were segregated. I have been impacted by personal and institutional racism in the north. I know the anger as young adult which Coates speaks of and the joy of attending a historical black college. I've never negated personal responsibility for my own actions and behaviors.

I did not fear my father, my peers or my community. I have great empathy for those who are traumatized by such fear or actual violence. I did, however, fear the police although, I had no encounter with the police. We did not view the police as protectors of the community My life centered and revolved around family, the church, and school which were a source of support, inspiration, and hope.

The book allows one to step into Coates' reality, although you may not have experienced it, know it or claim it. In the midst of his fog and anger, there is a continuous quest for knowledge, truth and image of a dream unfolding, although it is not the "American Dream."  The essence of Coates' soul is speaking to his son about the path Coates has traveled, and perhaps the path he has prepared for his son.

 From a social justice perspective, the book is clear  that the struggle for African-Americans continues, Coates does not entertain how this might be pursued or who is responsible. The book rattles the chains and  troubles the waters.

 The study group discussed what it means to be white and white privilege. The questioned  was raised Who is  most responsible for righting the wrongs and solving the problems of injustice, and what gets in the way?

Howard University was and is Coates "mecca." Coates is a testimony to Howard University and the continuing need for historical Black Colleges and Universities.

The study group met four times. The members of the group raised other thoughtful questions such
as What would we tell our children or grandchildren if we were writing a letter to them?  How would Christians end this book? Where do we go from here as people of faith?

Ta-Nehisi Coates is one of the many but contemporary writers who "have  found the courage to tell the ugly truths about slavery, Jim Crow and current racism that were repressed by the wider culture."

Joseph Carter Corbin Memorial Scholarship

The Joseph Carter Corbin Memorial Scholarship was established by Gladys Turner Finney July 10, 2015 at Ohio University to assist freshman students in the College of Arts and Sciences and who have demonstrated academic merit.The scholarship honors Dr. Joseph Carter Corbin, a distinguished 19th Century graduate of Ohio University, born at Chillicothe, Ohio. BA, 1853, MA 1856 and 1889. First African-American to be elected Arkansas State Superintendent of Education 1872.  Founder of the University of Arkansas at Pine Bluff.

For a limited time, your gift to the Joseph Carter Corbin Memorial Scholarship Endowment will be matched $.50 on the dollar as part of the University's OHIO Match Program. To make a gift to the scholarship, contact the Ohio University Foundation at 800-592-FUND or giving@ohio.edu
Checks may be made payable to The Ohio University Foundation (be sure to write "Corbin
Memorial Scholarship" in the notes section) and sent to: 
        
                                     The Ohio University Foundation
                                      P.O.Box 869
                                      Athens, Ohio 45701

Gifts also can be made online at www.ohio.edu/give

Reflections on "The Caning"

The Caning-The Assault That Drove America To Civil War is certainly the kind of book that wins the Pulitzer Prize. Written by Stephen Puelo, it focuses on the historical caning assault of Massachusetts anti-slavery Senator Charles Sumner in 1856 on the floor of the United States Senate Chamber by pro-slavery U. S.  Representative Preston Brooks of South Carolina. The over arching theme of the book is that the assault on Senator Sumner was the first blow of the Civil War. Puelo sets forth in great detail the differences in background, education, personality of the two men and their views about slavery. Brooks is presented as the more likable personality and Sumner more admirable for his anti-slavery stance. The caning incident intensified the political polarization of the North and South on the issues of free speech and extension of slavery to the western territory.


The book is engaging and packed with historical events, the Dred Scott Supreme Court Decision, the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854, John Brown's Raid, Abraham Lincoln and the election of 1860.

In addition to a brain injury and perhaps PTSD, Senator Sumner's recovery was long and painful.
Victims are not responsible for the violence inflicted on them. However,  Southerners felt that Representative Brooks was justified in his assault on Senator Sumner to defend a code of honor for Sumner's verbal insult to his kin, Senator Andrew Butler of Edgefield, South Carolina, and way of life in Sumner's "Crime Against Kansas" speech.

Slavery was a sin against God and a crime against humanity. Sumner accurately perceived slave holding as a barbaric act that made barbarians of the slave holders. Questions to ponder:
What made a minority of abolitionists defy slavery and turn the tide of history? To what extent a "southern gentlemen" would defend his right to human slaves as property?

I was interested in reading the book because of the time period, the caning incident, the political antagonists, and Edgefield County, South Carolina, the home of Representative Brooks. I am a descendant of slaves of Edgefield County, most of whom are lost to history. Edgefield was the center of political power in South Carolina. Ten of its state governors came from Edgefield County including Senator Strom Thurmond.  Although I have never visited Edgefield County, I understand
that neo-slavery existed there in the 1950s.

Family Research: Sgt. Elmo Blair, U.S. Army

• Sgt. United States Army
• STM 3, United States Navy
• Service: World War II and Korea
• Date of Birth: December 1, 1919
• Date of Death: January 15, 2001
• Buried: Section 49, Row 7, Site 20, Leavenworth, Kansas National Cemetery 
• Wife: Cozie Bell Turner Blair: Date of Birth: November 21, 1920; Date of Death: February 8, 2000. Buried: Leavenworth National Cemetery: Section 49. Row 7, Site 20.
  

Family Research: MM/ 3C Roger Morris, Jr., United States Navy

                                     

                                                               Roger Morris, Jr., MM 3 C
                                                                United States Navy, 251-00811
                                                                       Korean Conflict
                                                                   
                                                   Date of Birth: December 9, 1935
                                                    Grady, Lincoln County, Arkansas

                                                    Parents; Roger (R,D.) Morris
                                                        Margaret Bluford Morris
                                                                                       
                                             Dates of Service: January 6, 1955 to January 6, 1959

                                            Assignment/Location: USS Wren-568; Norfolk, Virginia

                                            Awards: Good Conduct Medal
                                         
                                            Wife: Sylvia Green Morris

                                            Date of Death: March 9, 2008

                                            Cleveland, Cuyahoga County, Ohio
                                         
                                           (c)copyright 2015
                                         
                                         

                                            Source: Roger Morris, Jr.
                                                 September 12, 2006

Basic Training of Black Military Soldiers During World War II (Unknown Training Photograph)

     Basic training of black military soldiers during World War II was in segregated units.

     See Unknown Training Photograph By Dr. Gladys Turner Finney.

     Click here: www.aaggmv.org

Family Research: Emmett DeWitt Turner, Jr.

                                                          Emmett DeWitt Turner, Jr.
                                                                    World War II
                                                         SC3c United States Navy, 866101

                                       
                                     Date of Birth: March 3, 1924, Kansas City, Kansas.

                                      Place of Entry: Kansas City, Kansas, June 14, 1943.

                                     Assignments/Location :
                                     NRS, Kansas City, Missouri
                                     USNTS, Great Lakes, Illinois
                                     US Naval Trade School, Hampton, Virginia
                                     Inshore Patrol, NOB, Norfolk, Virginia
                                     Sect. Base, Little Creek, Virginia
                                     CIC Group TRACEN, Little Creek, Virginia
                                     NAV TraSte, Newport, Rhode Island
                                     U,S,S. LACERTA (AKA-29)

                                     Decorations/Awards:
                                     World War II Victory Medal
                                     America Area Campaign Medal
                                     Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal
                                     W/1 Bronze Star

                          Place of Separation: Kansas City, Kansas, January 7, 1946.
                         
                         Wife: Nevelyn Turner

                         Date of Death: August 16, 1987.

                         Buried: Section 45, Row 31, Site 1, Leavenworth National Cemetery.

                         Source: National Personnel Records

                         (c) copyright 2015

Family Research, SPC Freddie Lee Johnson

                                             

SPC Freddie Lee Johnson, Military Police
United States Army
Vietnam Era

Date of Entry: February 10, 1970, Ft. Knox, Kentucky

Advanced Infantry Training, Ft. Gordon, Georgia

 Date of  Discharge: January 15, 1972, Ft. Dix, New Jersey

                                             (c) copyright 2015

Family Research: Private First Class James Bluford, Jr.

                                           PRIVATE FIRST CLASS JAMES BLUFORD, JR.
                                                                       WORLD WAR II
                                                                UNITED STATES ARMY

                                                       
                                           Date of Birth: August 22, 1922, Grady, Arkansas

                              Place of Entry: 1639th Service Unit, Chicago, Illinois, May 18, 1943

                              Assignment/Location: 3738 Quartermaster Truck Company, Central Europe
                                                                   and Rhineland Campaign

                              Place of Separation: Camp Chaffee, Arkansas, November 16, 1945                                
                                                                  Wife: Freddie Mae Phillips

                                                                  Date of Death: June 13, 1974

                             Buried: Randolph Cemetery, Grady, Lincoln County, Arkansas


 
                               
                             

Family Research: Private First Class Roy Burr

                                                                  FAMILY RESEARCH

                                                             
                                                                       ROY BURR
                                                                     WORLD WAR II

                                                       Private First Class: United States Army

                                                       Date of Birth: February 27, 1920
                                               
                                             Assignment/Geographic Location: La Cygne, Kansas

                                                               Wife: Alice Turner Burr

                                                         Date of Death: October 15, 1995

                                             Buried: Leavenworth National Cemetery, Leavenworth, Kansas

                                              (c) copyright 2015




         

The Land of Kwame Nkrumah

The Land of Kwame Nkrumah
Part III.


                       

When we landed at the airport in Accra from Lagos, Nigeria, I was intrigued by the throngs of people outside the airport.  I felt the tiredness of travel. The trip had really begun in Nairobi, Kenya. No one was at the airport to greet us. Mr. F went to the Ethiopian Airlines Desk and was assisted in calling our host. A car was dispatched to pick us up.

Our host is H. E. Major General Zere Mariam, Ambassador Extraordinary and Plentipotentiary of
Ethiopia to Ghana. He is the father of another Ethiopian friend of Mr. F in the U.S.

The streets of Accra are full of energy. I am also energized by the sights and smells. The market place is a fascinating experience. The skill of bargaining is also required. The women are highly involved in the economics of small businesses. The kente cloth is colorful and beautiful, a rich heritage tradition. Women and nursing mothers carry their babies on the front in contrast to the women in Ethiopia who carry their babies on their backs. At the market place, there are no crying babies. They are secure and serene, nestle and snug against their mothers' chest.

Ambassador Zere Mariam takes us sight seeing. Sometimes his young son, Azazi, accompany him. Mr. F and the Ambassador talk economics and politics. Once when Mr. F. inquires about the Fishing Industry, we are taken on a lake where their are fishermen and fish stacked in the sun drying. Mr. F. and the Ambassador spend a day in Chad and may have gone as far as the Sudan. While they are away I visit with people whose names I have been given by friends back home. There is quite a middle class in Accra. Their favorite car seems to be the Mercedes.

Ghana is the former Gold Coast. Kwame Nkrumah led the Gold Coast to independence from the
United Kingdom as Ghana in 1957. Think Nkrumah. Think international symbol of freedom! During the Black is Beautiful Movement in the 1960s, African-Americans adorned afro hairstyles and dashiki dress. When I changed to an afro one of my white colleagues said "I liked you better hunky-fied." One of Mr. F's Friend, George Washington, changed his name to Baruti Nkrumah. Nkrumah's name is well-known among freedom loving people in the United States.

Dr. W.E.B. DuBois came to Ghana some years back at the guest of President Nkrumah. He died in 1963 and is buried here. Both are much loved for their vision of Pan-Africianism.

(c) copyright 2015

The Land of Jomo Kenyatta

Part II.
We are continuing our African Journey across the African Continent, East to West. We land at the Nairobi, Kenya airport from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. (January, 1974).

We check into the Nairobi Hilton. I am excited. Seeing a billboard of Jomo Kenyatta, the Father of the Nation, and people like me in the majority, is empowering. Kenya celebrated its tenth year of freedom and independence from colonial rule last year. Nairobi is one of the two major cities. It has the look and feel of a cosmopolitan city.

We spend our time sight seeing, eating and resting in our hotel. Mr. F. arranges for a tour guide and we see the familiar tourist sites. I will always remember the popular Wild Life Reserve. I took many pictures of the animals. Nairobi's assets are its wild life resources and admirable climate. The city is 1,661 meters above sea level. I enjoy walking on the streets, looking at the people, and walking between the hotel and shops. I feel completely safe. En route to the airport, I leave behind in the taxi the prints I purchased of  the revered first president Jomo Kenyatta of Kenya.

Excerpts from the poem: To "Our Mzee Jomo Kenyatta" By Ommar Nassar

"The father of our land of mountains, rivers and sun
  This land of plenty where once much evil was done
  Where the unity of the masses was one red-hot rod
  This land where the Mau Mau received the blessings of God.
  When the patriots fought to free it to every bit of sand
  That the people should enjoy the fruits of this land.

  Mzee, it was you who proclaimed our first economic war
  To enable every mwananchi to possess just a little more."

Excerpts from the poem, The Sons of Africa by Grace Ndelimiko
"Oh, Africa the continent of my birth,
Time is now here for you to rejoice,
Your sons now stand among men,
Their voices cannot longer be ignored,
Their initials they have carved,
among great names of the world,
Your lamentations are turned to expectations."

We rejoin Yemane, Trixie and little Zehai at the airport in Lagos, Nigeria.  The flight distance from Nairobi to Lagos is 2,368 miles. A beautiful flight day, we fly over Lake Victoria.

On immediate sight, there are mosquito bites all over the faces and arms of Yemane, Trixie and little Zehai. The guys decided we would bypass Lagos since Yemane had spent time there.They are flying back to the United States. I had enough time to deplane and set foot on Nigerian soil and haggle for the purchase of a female head carving in side the airport. So on to Accra, Ghana.

(c) copyright 2015

A Memory: Our Trip to Africa

Part I.  The Land of Sheba

It was a moment of excitement, inward joy, and expectation to land on African soil in Asmara, Ethiopia on the morning of January 2, 1974. As Fred and I deplaned at 5:00 a. m., I felt the chill of the morning air. The sky was blue. I turned to him and said "Thank you for bringing me." His response was "Thank you for coming." It had been a long journey of 6,697 miles which began in Dayton, Ohio on December 31, 1973 with a day stop-over in Rome. Once on the ground, I knelt down and beheld Mother Africa in my hands.

    We were married in the summer of 1972. When Fred's friend, Yemane Tekeste,  invited him to travel home, with him  to Ethiopia, I thought of it as a opportunity for a honeymoon trip since we had not one. The trip would be four weeks with scheduled visits to Asmara, Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Nairobi, Kenya, Lagos, Nigeria, Accra, Ghana, and Monrovia, Liberia. A trip from East Africa to West Africa across the African Continent, approximately 10,000 miles. Fred and Yemane would use the time as a study tour.  Both were working on  a Master's degrees in Economics.

     We eagerly looked forward to our first ride on a 747 Jumbo Jet but this anticipation turned into disappointment at J. F. Kennedy Airport in New York when we learned that a Boeing 707 had been substituted because of the energy crisis. It was my first helicopter ride from Laguardia Airport to JFK.  Through- out the overnight flight from New York to Rome, I sat sandwiched, miserably overheated, between Fred and another passenger. It occurred to me the airplane designer-engineer should receive  the "Pack Em in Award." Observing my fellow flying companions, listening to their different languages, there were some similarities about people that were naturally understandable. Musingly, I thought how wonderful and beautifully diversified the human family.

As the sun was rising over Geneva, Switzerland, I was awakened by a stewardess at 8:20 a.m.
(2:20 a.m. Dayton time) for a continental breakfast. At 9:20 a. m. our plane landed at Rome's Fiumicino Airport after 7 hours and 40 minutes airborne. The temperature in Rome was 8 degrees centigrade and the weather was rainy and cold. The airport was heavily guarded with armed security guards and Military. A Palestinian terrorist attack, December 17th, two weeks earlier, at the airport on the same numbered Pan-AM  flight  as ours, killed two in the Terminal and 30 of the 177 aboard.
The Pan AM jet was taxing for departure. This made me realize  the war between  Israel and Palestinians was real, and  less distant than projected over the television screen.

There was very little passenger activity and no heat at Fiumicino Airport on New Year's Day. Yemane, Pixie, and Zeghai, our Ethiopian friend, his American wife, and seventeen month old son, boarded a bus into the city, passing one of the familiar historical sights, the Coliseum where Christians were once fed to the lions.

We checked into Hotel Bianca. I was apprehensive about the Desk asking to hold our passport.
After several hours of chilly to moderately warm sleep under the bed covers, and relaxation at Hotel Bianca, we embarked onto the dimly lit crowded streets in search of food. Yemane was frequently
stopped and greeted by Ethiopian nationals living and working in Rome. Two such men graciously escorted us to a Delicatessen.

Rome is a a city rich in history. I regretted somewhat our plans necessitated only a stop over.
Regrets were easily assuaged by pleasant memories of my 1967 visit. Plans to spend several days in the city were cancelled earlier due to  delayed receipt of Liberian and Nigerian visas, by two weeks.

 Yemane's bilingualism, the ease in which he communicated in Italian and attended to business transactions, was a source of great comfort, inspiration, and at times amusement, and caused me to reflect distressingly on the inadequacies of my linguistic education. When Yemane was bargaining to convert US currency to Italian lire, his persuasive temperament was part of the ritual. Since the rate of conversion was fluctuating between 400 to 600 lire per US dollar, obviously, the shrewd banker was intent on being victorious. The stalemate was resolved when another banker entered the bidding and an amicable price reached.

Shortly after 10:00 p.m,  Ethiopian Airlines, Boeing 720, Flight # 723 soared into the foggy night. We had been searched thoroughly in the airport before takeoff. Our hand luggage was retained until boarding. Little Zeghai's toy doll radio was closely scrutinized. What a thrill to see competent men of color as pilots. Never flown with a black pilot in the United States

12:40 a.m.  Intermediary stop in Athens, Greece. My intentions to set foot on Greek soil was thwarted. Continuing passengers advised not to deplane because of security. Restlessness and fatigue descended over my entire body. I frequently looked out into the night wondering how much longer. Due to the hazard of flying over Israeli or Palestinian Territory, the pilot takes the desert route to Asmara, extending the flight time. I remember I cancelled my 1967 tour to the  Holy Land because of the Arab-Israeli War.

January 2, 1974. Asmara's temperature was in the 40's when we landed in the early morning hours. Asmara is the capitol Eritrea Province. Processing through Customs was brief and superficial for Fred and I, but much more thorough for Yemane. Painstakingly the Customs officials inspected the contents of each piece of Yemane's luggage. Fred had heard the people loved American t-shirts and we packed as many as we could for gifts.

Along the palm-lined street from the airport, men rode  bicycles,  and women in the distance could be seen brewing the morning kaffa. Two occupants smiling and waving in an approaching English Ford stopped suddenly, turned around and beckoned us to follow. To our surprise it was Mr. Teskeste and twelve year old son, David. Following the happy family reunion of kisses and gift presentations, a breakfast of steak, eggs and zegeni (the National dish) was served. Zegni is a curried stew made of beef, mutton or chicken, served over injera (a special bread made from millet, eaten by hand. Injera reminds me of unleavened American pancakes. Because of the abundant use of berbere (red pepper) I carefully avoided zegeni, served at every meal, because it activated gastric acidity.

Our host is bilingual. He speaks Amharic, other Ethiopian dialects, Italian, and English. The Tekeste
Villa is a six bedroom, two story, Mediterranean design, beige concrete and marble, atop a hill, surrounded by various tropical flora. The mural on the northeast wall depicts historic Ethiopian shrines. The interior marble floors are dazzling. The guard at the Villa gate, any hour day or night, became an accustomed sight. During the day the compound was filled with chatter as construction workers were completing the Servants Quarters and patio.The two house servants did not speak English. They kept busy with their tasks of cooking, cleaning, washing, and ironing. Each day at 2:00 p.m., they brought tea to our room, and shined our shoes overnight.

By noon on January 2nd, the temperature had reached 90 degrees. Ethiopia has high elevation and is close to the equator. Time for a several course leisure lunch of zegeni, meat, vegetables, and wine. I am accustomed to little or no breakfast, a thirty minute lunch consisting of a salad. I usually leave the table overstuffed.  There is a siesta after lunch. The school children come home for lunch and return to classes around 2:00 p.m., the shops and merchants close.

Tour of an Impoverished Community: This must be absolute poverty. I am blinded by tears." Why are you crying?" Fred asks. I am too emotional to answer. "Why aren't you mad at the colonialists?" I remain silent.

Shopping:
Asmara is a shopper's paradise, art, wood carvings, 18 karat gold, silver. Gold purchases are weighed (international gold standard.)

It's chilly in the morning I need a sweater. I am taken shopping. Why are there no prices on these sweaters? I have to bargain. I don't know how to bargain. Furthermore, I didn't know there is a local price, European price, an American price. Americans are seen as rich. Shopping at Gold Market: Outside, I am surrounded by beggars. How can I go in here to shop when there is so much need? " I say to Fred, "give that mother and baby some money." "She didn't ask for anything,"he replies. "Give her some money anyway."

Asmara is a police state. The army is everywhere on the streets. I almost get my camera confiscated, unknowingly taking pictures of the Summer Castle of the Imperial Emperor Haile Selassie. There is tension in the air. No one speaks aloud.

Medical Care: I develop a painful ear ache. I had tubes inserted prior to trip due to fluid imbalances while flying. I am taken to the U.S. Naval Center and treated by a Navy ear doctor.
How nice to be an American! We received recommended immunizations at our local Health Department in Dayton. Re: Malaria  Reality or Western Propaganda? I received my prescription and malaria pills in Dayton. Fred had to be convinced, and so he was by our host.

Status of Women: I get the opportunity to discuss  status of women in our society. Our host values education for his sons, and they are being educated in U,S. and Italy. He values traditional marriage arrangements. Women in the Villa do not go out unattended. Why does this mean me? We are invited to a traditional wedding. The groom seems much older than the bride. They were betrothed  by their parents. She is expected to be a virgin. They meet, the first, time the day before the wedding. It's a very lovely wedding. The priests with ram horns precede the processional. The reception is at a hotel.
I spend a lot of time drinking tea with the women, getting my hair corn rowed, watching US TV reruns. The guys are out studying. I had hoped to visit some  U.S. church missions. Mr. F. gets  lots of sympathy because of you know who. The culture shock is real.

Most people in the world eat goat meat except in the U.S. I see a goat being slaughtered for my dinner. The Italian influence in Ethiopia can be seen in the  architecture, cuisine and language. Many of the dishes served are Italian. Ethiopia was once occupied by Italy's Mussolini.

Going on Holiday: Port City on Red Sea, Massawa. (on coast of Eritrea)
The necessary documents are secured to travel. When our entourage arrived at the airport, on the day of departure, our plane has left. A decision is made to drive. Entering my seat in the back, someone says  "Mrs. F. hide your money, we may run into bandits." I see a lot of crosses on the side of  the highway. I see people on camels. I see women carrying firewood on their backs. I vow to fly back. " I am not riding back in this car!" Woes for Mr. F. and more sympathy. "You are causing an uproar."

 I see the distribution  difficulty to get Foreign Aid to the Provinces when there is a drought or famine. There is no network of highways like U.S. It seems I am in another century. Biblical times. Ethiopia dates back to biblical times. The Coptic Christian Orthodox Church is here. The Falasha Black Jews are here and not recognized by mainline Judaism. The Emperor's symbol is the Lion of Judah. He traces his lineage to King David and Queen Sheba.

Surprise! Our accommodations are at the  U.S. Naval Rest Center on the Red Sea. We have a great time. The weather is beautiful. The Red Sea is strikingly blue. I'm in awe. This is the Red Sea of the Bible. Who would have ever thought I'd see it?  Not even me.

 Time to return to Asmara: Airline travel is arranged for Mr. & Mrs. F. However, when I see the plane landing on a dusty field, looking like a crop duster, I'm sure I have made a mistake.  We arrived safely back in Asmara. Someone says just in time "before the gates to the City are closed."

We are offered the invitation to stay our remaining time in Asmara with our host. I want to continue our trip as planned. I may never get the opportunity to see this part of the world again. The guys agree to meet in Lagos.

Day of  Departure: We thank our host, say goodbye.

At the Airport:
The Mayor of Asmara meets us at the airport. He gives us a parting gift, two lovely Ethiopian carvings. Why is my plane to Addis Ababa not here?  When will my plane come? The answer:
"If it does not come today, it will come tomorrow. If it does not come tomorrow, it will come the following day." Since plane is delayed why not go to eat? Good idea. On return: "Why are our suitcases sitting here on the ground unattended?  Reply: "The plane has come and gone. You were not here. You may be terrorists." Time and timeliness are my cultural bias. I am discovering others, I am also discovering some of Mr. F's cultural biases about about siesta, eating raw meat. Are we the Ugly Americans who expect things to be like they are at home?

Addis Ababa:
We checked in to the Addis  Ababa Hilton.  Fred arranges for a Tour Guide. We spend our time touring, eating, and sleeping. I go shopping.

To be continued.

Post Script:
His Imperial Majesty Emperor Haile Selassie was deposed in a cou d'etat by the military in September 1974 and died in 1975. A Civil War between Eritreia and Ethiopia took place in the 1990s and Mr. F said many of the people we met died in the War including the Artists. Eritrea seceded from Ethiopia and became an independent country. Some of the Falasha Jews have been resettled in Israel.
Mr. Finney later publishes an article, History of Ethiopian Coins and Currency."

(c) copyright 2015