It is definitely not so sweet to die for your country. However, It depends on how you die. (Ross)

.....DULCE et DECORUM EST (Wilfred Owen)

....."If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
behind the wagon that we flung him in,
and watch the white eyes rising in his face,...
if you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
come gargling from the froth corrupted lungs,
obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
...my friend, you would not tell with such high zest
to children ardent for some desperate glory,
the old LIE: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

                                          (How sweet it is to die for your country.)

.....As I noted in my previous post, what I write here is primarily for the curiosity of my great grandchildren, ad infinitum. If I have any kind of legacy at all to satisfy their understanding of a grandfather they've never known, then it is written here.  Whatever will happen to my books--well who knows? Hopefully they will be preserved somewhere, some day.  For now, I will be copying letters I have received from friends that I have known. These are letters that deal with my relationships with former students and friends that I have lost over time. Here I copy parts of a letter I received from "Sharon" who was a principal of an elementary school in Baldwin. I met her just before I left for a global trip. A snippet of her letter to me before I left on my sabbatical, follows:

.....you are unique. Knowing a person such as you are has been one of the most marvelous experiences I've ever had. I hope it will be an ongoing experience even through the mail for the time being.
.....You are truly the most sensitive, understanding, kind, gentle, generous, loving ,
intelligent, liberal human being I have ever met, as well as being a perfect dynamite lover!!
.....I hope you miss me as much as I miss you.  Love, hugs, kisses, etc.

She said that I was "unique". As long as Wilfred Owen used Latin, I would rather she had said that I was "Sui Generis". 
 
                                                                            Sharon

TIME...Put to good use is solely part of the heart's desire... until it's too late.

Wanderer’s Song...

I have had enough of women, and enough of love,
But the land waits, and the sea waits, and day and night is enough;
Give me a long white road, and the grey wide path of the sea.
And the wind's will and the bird's will, and the heart-ache still in me.

Why should I seek out sorrow, and give gold for Strife?
I have loved much and wept much, but tears and love are not life;
The grass calls to my heart, and the foam to my blood cries up,
And the sun shines and the road shines, and the wine's in the cup.

I have had enough of wisdom, and enough of mirth,
For the way's one and the end's one, and it's soon to the ends of the earth;
And it's then good-night and to bed, and if heels or heart ache,
Well, it's sound sleep and long sleep, and sleep too deep to wake.

Well, as you can tell, I am not in the good, better, best of moods. In fact, I am about ready to pack it all in.  Every day is becoming more difficult to decipher...meaning...what kind of life do I have to look forward to when I awake in the morning.  All the friends and enemies in my life used to give living a meaning and/or an incentive to fill up my days and ways. And now I have only a few days or months to do something meaningful. Perhaps years? So, what is my legacy...assuming I have one. So, since this blog is basically for my future DNA, I write so that it reaches my great, great grandchildren. I can't have much hope that it will go beyond them. So be it. Therefore, I will hope some of what follows reaches them, even though by that time, they will not be Jewish and never know what a bagel with a "schmear" has to do with anything--or any one.

                                                                                       May, 1968

Dear Dr. Ross,  Quite by accident, I discovered an old issue of the "Viking View" (which school paper you established & named!), while poking through some magazines in the living room--I'm so glad it just happened to turn up, for its appearance has finally given me the incentive to sit down and drop you a note after much too long a time.
.....The issue to which I'm referring was one that included an interview with a very perceptive man, who said that a teacher "...has to inspire; he is a catalyst".  Naturally, these words meant more to me than they might have meant to most, for they were your words, and they redefined for me the role your teaching has played in the careers of many of your students--and the influence (having been exposed to your guidance and direction) that your teaching has had on my own life.---
.....As unbelievable as it may seem, it is now the tenth anniversary of the graduation of North Shore High's first senior class--the one you saw all the way through four years! I think you should know that, each time I run into an old classmate, yours is the name that seems to stand out above all others in discussions, and yours seems to be the influence that is still most keenly (and deeply) felt!!
.....I know that in my own life during the past ten years, your teaching has provided "inspiration", and the lessons of integrity and dedication learned in your classes have provided a "catalyst"--and will certainly continue to do so.  Thank you for giving us something meaningful to remember and for teaching us lessons that extend far beyond the classroom.  Your influence is appreciated and is ever-present---and you are still my "favorite teacher"...
                                                                With love, Betsy Krumrine

So there.  Read it and weep!  That's legacy enough.