tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83219062301105542122024-03-13T08:07:48.660-07:00Da Da Da Da Life Goes On*Professor (Emeritus) Duncan C. McDougall of Plymouth State University in New Hampshire Continues his Story.
(*A Romanian/English pun. Apologies to The Beatles.)Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.comBlogger427125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-11644767439955204062021-07-14T20:10:00.000-07:002021-07-14T20:10:22.238-07:00From home, in Campton, New Hampshire, U.S.A.Dear Reader:
Thank you for your friendship, and loyalty to this blog.
Please indulge my curiosity by leaving me a comment, which, if nothing else, tells me where you are as you read this post.
Thank you!
Duncan, Campton, NHDuncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-31997175063009971622021-05-25T10:27:00.022-07:002021-05-26T05:46:18.528-07:00At Peace<p> </p>
Shirley and I have been blessed with four offspring, three sons, and a daughter.
In 2018 we lost Alexander, who took his own life at age 33. While we knew that
Alex had problems, we were shocked by his suicide. Jamie's passing, at 44, has
been an entirely different story.
Photo is of Jamie with our granddaughter Brynn (8).
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After a three-year fight against an aggressive metastatic cancer, Jamie's death
was not a surprise. He had fought with courage and determination through several
major surgeries, radiation treatments that cost him the sight in his left eye
, and chemotherapy. He fought for his wife
Amy, and for their three children, Brynn, Killian (6), and Elliott (4). At the end, Jamie passed in his sleep, with
his wife, Amy, and sister, Piper, at his bedside.
Sleep in peace, dear JJ. We
shall love you, forever.
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-19500388992882329962019-02-06T14:48:00.000-08:002019-02-06T20:37:27.913-08:00A Joy of Teaching<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We teachers make friends younger,<br />
As we are growing old.<br />
Those friends, we find, still love us,<br />
When our story's mostly told.</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-10836042276162626832019-01-30T18:40:00.002-08:002019-01-30T18:52:59.809-08:00The Price of a Long Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Thanks be to God, I have lived for over three-quarters of a century.<br />
<br />
While I am thankful for this life, I have just two days ago lost a beloved friend and teacher, and have realized that more such losses are inevitable as I continue to age. My teachers and mentors are older than I, so I must expect to hear such sad news with increasing frequency.<br />
<br />
Professor C. Wickham Skinner of Harvard Business School was my teacher in his second-year course called Manufacturing Policy in my MBA program in 1969. Upon my graduation in 1970, Professor Skinner asked if I would stay at HBS and serve as his research assistant for a year, writing cases for the first-year course in operations management. When I accepted the job, Wick added that he hoped I would also apply for the DBA program, as there would be no tuition, so long as I was his research assistant. As it happened, I left after one year, but returned a decade later, and completed my doctoral program in 1986.<br />
<br />
Professor Skinner and I shared an understanding of the manufacturing function in industry, an understanding which is all too rare among business school professors. At the link below, Professor Skinner's many books and articles are listed. I especially recommend <u>The Focused Factory.</u> <br />
<br />
Wickham Skinner played a pivotal role in my life. We became close friends, and remained so until his death, two days ago. He was (at least) 94 years old.<br />
<br />
May God rest his soul.<br />
<br />
Wick's faculty web page is at this link: <br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_818733522"><br /></a>
<a href="https://www.hbs.edu/faculty/Pages/profile.aspx?facId=12314">https://www.hbs.edu/faculty/Pages/profile.aspx?facId=12314</a><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-19877118757638875302018-12-18T21:36:00.000-08:002018-12-18T22:01:05.055-08:00A Difficult Year...Still, Craciun Fericit!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
At our home in New Hampshire, we have faced emotional trials in 2018. We know that we are not alone in that, and we offer our sympathy to all who had similar trials or tragedies in 2018.<br />
<br />
About this time in 2017 we learned that our oldest son, 42, had been diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. Scans done subsequently showed no tumors in his major bodily organs, so reports were that his life was likely not in peril. Then, in January, they scanned his head, and found a tumor in his cerebellum. Our beloved son, father of three of our grandchildren, was going in for emergency brain surgery. Thanks be to God, and to the surgeons at St. Mary's hospital in Richmond, Virginia, that surgery went well, but the tissue tests showed that the tumor was a metastasis of his colon cancer, and his disease was rediagnosed as Stage 4 colon cancer.<br />
<br />
Almost all year, our boy has continued to work at his responsible position at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, while undergoing twelve rounds of Chemotherapy.<br />
<br />
Then, on August 3rd, I found that our youngest son, 33, had committed suicide. I shan't go into the details, but it was the worst night of my life. Shirl and I miss him every day.<br />
<br />
All three of our surviving children came to the funeral, the oldest driving up to New Hampshire from Virginia with his wife and three kids, 1, 3, and 5 years of age. It was good to see that he had the strength to do so. <br />
<br />
---------------------------------<br />
<br />
Thank God, I can end this saga with some good news. In November the team of surgeons at St. Mary's did a complete colostomy, from which our son is healing still. His employers have supported him in his trauma, and seem eager to have him back at work. Thus far, no further cancer has been indicated by tissue and blood tests. The latest report just yesterday, is that he is healing well, and will soon be ready to start physical therapy. Shirl and I haven't been able to go, due to our own health issues, but several family members have rallied to Virginia from Massachusetts, from Vermont, and from Colorado to help support our heroic daughter-in-law in caring for our son and grandchildren during this difficult time. <br />
<br />
God be praised!<br />
<br />
_______________________<br />
<br />
So as Christmas approaches, only 6 days away, we offer prayers of thanks for one son's life, and prayers for peace and rest for our departed one, and also for yours.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Merry Christmas</span>!</span></span> </b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">May we all have a healthy and happy 2019! </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Amen.</span></b></div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-87927397673626444522018-06-15T23:14:00.005-07:002018-06-15T23:18:12.096-07:00Back to Blogging<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This will be a short post to thank my followers and friends for almost ten years of loyalty. Please forgive any typographical errors in this post, as I am attempting to type it using both my hands. Thanks to God and Occupational Therapist Pamela Hixon of the Pemi-Baker Community Health Center in Plymouth, NH, my right hand is approaching full functionality 13 months after my crippling "bleeder."<br />
<br />
I hope hereafter to keep on blogging for the rest of my life. That last stroke wiped out a large portion of my memory, and reading those posts that I have been linking into my Facebook page has taught me how important it has been to have recorded my adventures.<br />
<br />
If all goes well, I'll be posting far more frequently than I have been for the past year.<br />
<b>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b><br />
<b>Thanks to my soon-to-be-married daughter, Piper, for sending Omaha Steaks for Father's Day! </b></div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-21936155116026046612017-10-10T18:27:00.001-07:002018-07-04T18:59:48.379-07:00Understanding My Age<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last August I turned 74. That puts me in my "mid-70s." My life expectancy when born, back in 1943, was 62 years.<br />
<br />
I must tell you, dear reader, that I am very thankful to have beaten the forecast, for in the past twelve years a lot of beauty and love and learning and joy have come my way.<br />
<br />
Six of my seven grandchildren have been born. Shirley and I have struggled through some difficult times, but are still together, and in love.<br />
<br />
My previous blog, http:/www.dcmcd.blogspot.com was started at the recommendation of my son Jesse, and then this blog became its sequel. Together, they chronicle my last nine years of travel, teaching in Romania, and other adventures.<br />
<br />
When my two strokes came along, the first in September of 2016, and the second in May of 2017, I lost many memories from those recent years, and years before, as well. Thus, I find these two blogs invaluable records of the places I've been, and the people I've met.<br />
<br />
On my recent nine-day visit to Romania, only 3-1/2 months following a "bleeder" in my left frontal lobe, I saw at least ten of the people that I knew from my days living in Romania, back in 2008-2010. It was great to see them, to hug them, and to recall our friendships. My blogs played a role in preparing me for some of those meetings.<br />
<br />
So today I am writing in my blog at the suggestion of Prof. Dr. Alexandra Muțiu of FSEGA, the Business School of Babeș-Bolyai University in Cluj-Napoca, Romania. <br />
<br />
Dr. Muțiu and I co-taught a course called Accounting for Managers in the spring of 2009. In a recent chat, she detected what she considered uncharacteristic moodiness in me, which had also been apparent in my Facebook posts. She suggested that a blog post might prove therapeutic.<br />
<br />
What do you know? Now, as I conclude this post, I am feeling optimistic! Multumesc, Profesoara!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-34653449011362713862017-09-26T10:47:00.001-07:002017-09-26T15:06:06.077-07:00The Race of the Age<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I slept-in, today. I didn't get up until after 10:30. That is about four hours later than usual. I believe it was because yesterday really tired me out!<br />
<br />
Yesterday started with my usual 06:30 wake-up, the awkward struggle to get into my T-shirt, jeans, socks and sneakers, replete with foot-brace, and breakfast of oatmeal and a sausage patty. Then I drove to Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center (DHMC) for an 8:30 appointment to have blood drawn at the lab. DHMC is just over an hour's drive away... and I was there essentially on time, in spite of dense fog on the mountains along Route 118, which runs about 20 miles southward, from Rumney to Canaan, NH. Then, I moved my car around the complex from the Parking Garage to the main parking lot, to shorten my walk to my 9:30 appointment at Dr. Turco's Endocrinology Department. This was a diabetes visit, entirely unrelated to my strokes. Dr. Turco is a great man, in my sight. He has been helping me with my Type II diabetes since 2005, and has brought my A1C test scores from above 10 (dangerously high) to 7.0, which, he told me yesterday, is very good.<br />
<br />
After a fine visit with Dr. T., I let the OnStar Navigation System in my new Chevy Equinox guide me to the NH Veterans' Cemetery (NHVC) in Boscawen, where I planned to stand a flag line for a fallen veteran at 2:00 P.M. Of course, I know well how to find that cemetery, having served as a flag holder at scores of burials over the past 11 years. But I suspected that OnStar, in choosing the shortest route from Lebanon to Boscawen, might take me through some parts of NH not often, if ever, seen. In fact, it did just that, guiding me across from I-89 to U.S. 3 via U.S. 4, which is a lovely rural highway over much of that stretch. I drove past a batch of elegant white buildings in the village of Andover, admiring their bright appearance, then saw that I was passing Proctor Academy, a private boarding and day-school with which two of my sons used to compete in athletics, when they were at Holderness School.<br />
<br />
Ariving at NHVC 90 minutes prior to our mission's rendezvous time of 2:00 P.M., I drove on down to have a good lunch at Alan's of Boscawen, just a mile south of the town's center on Rt. 3.<br />
<br />
After eating a fried clam strip roll with cole slaw and chips, I took my insulin, went back to NHVC, parked in the shade, and napped for 30 minutes-or-so, awakening at 1:59 (on my phone) to find several fellow NH PGR members also parked there. As I had been leaned back in my seat, they had not seen me, though Flag Line Captain Lauri Flannery Wayne said, "We noticed that the engine was running, so we figured someone was nearby."<br />
<br />
Lauri then led us in a good mission to honor the late Robert R. Rivard, Command Sergeant Major in the U.S. Army National Guard, a veteran of 35 years' service to our country.<br />
<br />
Marching away from the grave site, I was again in the lead, with my flag this time in the hands of my comrade, Bruce Beckley. I used my cane on the deep grass, but once on the pavement, picked it up by its shaft, and strode as normally as I have been able to do yet, at any point since my May 13th "bleeder." At the NH PGR pickup truck, where we furl our flags, Bruce said to me, "You did well."<br />
That beats the heck out of tripping, falling, and dropping a flag!<br />
<br />
After returning home at about 4:00, I showered, then napped for an hour or so, rising to eat a frozen pizza and watch the Red Sox game on TV.<br />
<br />
Can't understand how such a day might tire one out!<br />
<br />
In my life, these days, the recovery process is in a race with the aging process. Dear God, Please, may the former process be the winner!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-70366289885715497672017-09-17T08:21:00.001-07:002017-09-17T18:22:04.362-07:00Amazing Grace<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JqkzEDLnIeQ/Wb69vqKFkyI/AAAAAAAAHPA/JnrU8HKdNdcwXtJxIZ9S7gZ_4haREGoxACLcBGAs/s1600/CLUJ%2B2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JqkzEDLnIeQ/Wb69vqKFkyI/AAAAAAAAHPA/JnrU8HKdNdcwXtJxIZ9S7gZ_4haREGoxACLcBGAs/s320/CLUJ%2B2017.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biserica in Piața Unirii, Cluj-Napoca</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />
I've been home from Romania for ten days, and am only now able to tell you the impact that much-needed and truly beautiful vacation has had on me.<br />
<br />
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<br />
While in Cluj, at Hanul Dacilor for dinner with my former dean (now pro-rector of UBB) Mihaela Luțaș and our FSEGA colleagues Alexandra Muțiu (and her daughter Ingrid), Moni Zaharie (and her daughter Anamaria), Monica Silaghi, as well as our former student Raluca Tarcea, Mihaela told me that she was pleased to see that I had returned to Romania with my intellect intact, following my strokes. What a relief her remark brought to me!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our hotel in Bicaz</td></tr>
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While in Bucovina with Alexandra, her daughter Ingrid Love, and Ingrid's friend Georgiana, we visited Manastirea Putna, where we met monk Ambrosie, who had read my earlier Putna posts, and had invited me back. While there, we went into the biserica (church) and reviewed the magnificent iconography which had been painted only a few years ago by Master Mihai Moroșan.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With M. Ambrozie</td></tr>
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<br />
Then, we all spent a wonderful night in Suceava with my dear friends Mihai and Waltraudi Moroșan. On the drive back to Cluj, Alexandra expressed the thought that she felt her soul to have been healed. I felt the same.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 2017 view of Shirley's and my old building, in 2008-09</td></tr>
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Back in Cluj, God sent me the realization that the most important decision of my life was to propose marriage to Shirley, back in 1973. Our four wonderful offspring are one result... but also, how many husbands have the freedom to live such a life as I have been blessed to live? Dear Shirley is my wife for life. Praise be to God!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-7786715030762548292017-08-06T18:15:00.000-07:002017-08-07T15:20:58.902-07:00Visit to Romania Upcoming!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Health and other circumstances permitting, I shall be based in Cluj for ten days, starting at the end of August.<br />
<br />
Air tickets are bought, and accommodations have been arranged.<br />
<br />
God willing, I'll see again many folks whom I dearly love, and sorely miss.<br />
<br />
I was able to spend time in Romania, sometimes only days, other years full semesters, in 2008, '09, '10, '11, '12, '13, '14, and '15. I missed getting there in 2016 due to problems of family health (including my own). So, I cannot wait to visit Romania, my second homeland, in 2017!<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-32560344355101425862017-07-11T18:18:00.002-07:002017-07-11T18:54:05.130-07:00Mission Mishap in PGR Service for a Great Neighbor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
10 July 2017<br />
<br />
This
morning, with my fellow N.H. Patriot Guard Riders, I stood in a flag
line at the N.H. Veterans' Cemetery for the late Commander Robert
Bergeron of Holderness, the next town south of Campton, New Hampshire, where I live.<br />
<br />
Commander Bergeron was a U.S. Navy carrier
pilot from January, 1942, until the end of the Korean War. He served in
the Navy a total of 28 years, and then became a volunteer and a board
member at the Plymouth Area Senior Center for 33 years<span class="text_exposed_show">! He died at 96 years of age. <br /> <br />
As we withdrew from the chapel in single file, still holding tall flags at
our right sides, Paul Baptiste, our ride captain, had me lead the
procession, because with my limp, I had not been able to keep up the
pace as we had marched in. I got about 2/3s of the way back to the
parking area, when I stumbled and fell onto the concrete sidewalk,
dropping my flag to the ground, which shamed me greatly. <br /> <br /> I
was helped to my feet, and kindly escorted by a comrade back to my car,
making sure that my flag had been retrieved and kissed. I suffered only
skinned knuckles and a wrist, but as I take a blood thinner to ward off
clots, and thus strokes, both bled freely.<br /> <br /> I was able soon to
stem the bleeding, and drove safely home to Campton, stopping only at
the Senior Center, to give a lady there the red carnation that I'd been
given by Commander Bergeron's daughter, after the close of the service.<br /> <br /> Tonight, I received this wonderful message from our Ride Captain, Paul:<br /> <br /> "Hi Duncan,<br /> <br />
Just want to touch base with you to make sure you got home okay. You
almost fell the last time we stood a flag line. I think maybe from now
on we should have someone carry a flag for you to and from the line.
That way you would be able to concentrate on your walking without the
added distraction of the flag. I can make sure this happens when I'm the
Ride Captain; but when I'm not there, we'll have to work up a protocol where all the other Ride Captains will know that you'll need a little extra assistance. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">I sure hope you don't get discouraged and stop attending the flag lines because we can't afford to lose someone with your dedication to our mission.<br /> <br /> Thanks for all that you do.<br /> <br /> Paul"<br /> __________________________<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>_____________________<br /> Photo is of an F4U Corsair, a magnificent carrier fighter that served both Navy and Marine squadrons in both WWII and the Korean War.</span><br />
</div>
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Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-46300587460012457102017-06-19T15:08:00.003-07:002017-06-25T05:27:36.302-07:00Campton Historical Society Talk on Beebe River<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In about an hour I shall attend a talk on the Beebe River bobbin plant here in Campton, and on the history of the "once-idyllic company town" that it sponsored. I served as manager of that bobbin mill from 1972 through 1975. Its downfall was to me a sad but educational series of events that led to the subject of my doctoral dissertation: "Manufavturing Strategy in Diversified Firms, Linkages Between Competitive Strategy and Manufacturing Planning in the Divisions." I hope I can sit through the talk without crying!<br />
<a href="http://www.camptonhistorical.org/beebe%20river%20marker%20flyer.pdf">http://www.camptonhistorical.org/beebe%20river%20marker%20flyer.pdf</a><br />
<br />
Postscript: After thinking about my three years at Beebe River for at least three days before the event, I believe it went well for me. No tears, and I shook hands with many old friends, former associates, and softball teammates. I contributed one of my Draper shuttles with a package of filament yarn on its bobbin to the Historical Society. I was happy to see that they have a display case full of many types of bobbins, as well as a few blanks, but I saw no shuttles (which were made at Draper's plant in Marion, S. C.). Among other comments, I explained to the audience the role that bobbins played in the spinning and weaving processes of our textile industry customers. <br />
<br />
When I sat down, the audience were kind to applaud. Thank you, Tink Taylor, for serving as moderator of this event!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-81092338246244250832017-06-04T18:40:00.001-07:002017-06-04T18:41:45.357-07:00Good News!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">My neurologist at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, Dr. Rojas-Soto, says that "a healing stroke" is a possibility. However, she offers an alternative to my theory of clots having been washed away by this latest event. She suggests that the improvement may well relate to the drugs they have had me on since that stroke.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">I saw
MRI images of my brain last week. It has a dime-sized black spot in its left
frontal region. The doctor tells me that black indicates blood. She
said that it was a very small hemorrhage, and that given my condition
only three weeks later, that the prognosis is good. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">I am now hoping for a full recovery! </span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Praise God!</span></span><br />
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Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-7209807146837666892017-05-26T11:43:00.002-07:002017-05-27T14:08:18.314-07:00A Healing Stroke? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
They say that God draws straight with crooked lines.<br />
<br />
On the 10th of this month, a Wednesday, I felt lousy, suspected another stroke, and called 911. The ambulance from the Campton-Thornton Fire Dept. came and took me to Speare Memorial Hospital in Plymouth. There some tests were done, a TIA (Transient Ischemic Attack) was diagnosed, and I was sent home. I have only the vaguest of memories of those events, and none of the ensuing two days, except that I was asleep in the living room, and did not eat, nor take my meds for at least 48 hours.<br />
<br />
My first memory is of my wetting myself on the couch, Friday afternoon, May 12th. I managed to stagger into the bathroom, changed into dry clothes, and ate one of our "meals-on-wheels." Shirl tells me that I slept that night in our bed. On Saturday morning, 13 May, Shirl again called 911, and had me taken back to Speare. All I recall is their being skeptical, but deciding this time to do a CT scan of my head. Thereafter, the attending physician in the E.R. told me, "You're right. You've had a bleeder. We're sending you directly to DHMC (Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center)."<br />
<br />
My next four or five days were spent in the outstanding Neurology Department on 5W at DHMC in Lebanon. I remember those days somewhat vaguely, but I clearly recall being thoroughly satisfied with the staff. From doctors to cleaners, they displayed high morale, and a genuine concern for us patients.<br />
<br />
By Tuesday the 16th, my condition had stabilized enough that the neurologists told me that they were going to prescribe one week in rehabilitation. I immediately said, "HealthSouth!" That rehab hospital in Concord, NH, is where I had spent four weeks last September, when I had my first stroke.<br />
<br />
HealthSouth was able to take me on short notice, and I stayed there from 17 to 23 May. I was discharged this past Tuesday, and picked up by Marcia Litchfield, a friend for decades, and the widow of PSU professor Craig Zamzow, our former Director of the Small Business Institute, and my golf partner for five years. Marcia, you are a sweetheart, and both Shirl and I are most grateful for your help!<br />
<br />
So...<br />
<br />
My memory seems spottier than it was after the September stroke, but my right hand is far less swollen, more flexible, and stronger. I hope to find that this "bleeder" brought some unblocking of blood vessels in my brain that have been blocked since last summer. Amen, Lord!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-57251762357538172432017-04-19T11:30:00.001-07:002017-04-20T17:47:33.232-07:00April News<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sfQWhfoxXi0/WPelJ56aKZI/AAAAAAAAHMA/Swfm4cbO7_AoDD4dwAQlZVsIEkUOEOL6QCLcB/s1600/13%2BApril%2B%252717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sfQWhfoxXi0/WPelJ56aKZI/AAAAAAAAHMA/Swfm4cbO7_AoDD4dwAQlZVsIEkUOEOL6QCLcB/s320/13%2BApril%2B%252717.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
These four deer feeding on the stubble of our lawn indicate good news. It appears that spring is finally here to stay, following a long and snowy winter, during which the plow drifts in our driveway exceeded the height of my car!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WKQcj0A06K0/WPemcA4olII/AAAAAAAAHMI/spIViNrxiLM1KDb-guw49AzSaJbFmcCUACLcB/s1600/Valentine%2527s%2BDay%2B2017%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WKQcj0A06K0/WPemcA4olII/AAAAAAAAHMI/spIViNrxiLM1KDb-guw49AzSaJbFmcCUACLcB/s320/Valentine%2527s%2BDay%2B2017%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
That is the 2005 Hyundai Santa Fe that many of you who have visited our home will recognize, as I have driven it since 2007, before ever venturing to Romania! But this spring I took the car for some touch-up work on two small rust spots, and my body shop owner, a former near neighbor, said, "Time for a new car!" He warned me that the rust, though not yet visible, was well-established in the car's body, and would soon show through again. So, I took the beloved little SUV to Mark at J&M Imports, my trusted mechanic, and asked his opinion. Mark inspected the car thoroughly, and told me it had a broken front spring, warped brake rotors, a rattling driveshaft, needed four tires, and was overdue for a new timing belt and water pump. All of these are wear parts, which at 197,800 miles (over 318,000 Km.) had simply worn out. But, he estimated the cost of complete mechanical repair at about $4000. Here is the rest of the story:<br />
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<span class="_5mfr _47e3"><img alt="" class="img" height="24" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f29/1/24/1f642.png" width="24" /><span class="_7oe">🙂</span></span> <br />
Free Ad Dept. My Facebook feedback to Cantin Chevrolet in Laconia:<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v1HhGAqJIMo/WPfNccpvyzI/AAAAAAAAHMo/5YV59PiB944NgwZ-v6Nyz1k_BV-M1QSkACLcB/s1600/2017%2BEquinox%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v1HhGAqJIMo/WPfNccpvyzI/AAAAAAAAHMo/5YV59PiB944NgwZ-v6Nyz1k_BV-M1QSkACLcB/s320/2017%2BEquinox%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody _1n4g">I
came into Cantin Chevrolet looking for a used white Equinox to replace my beloved, but
worn out white 2005 Santa Fe. Thus, I met Jeff Roberts in the Pre-owned
Vehicle Dept. He showed me several Equinoxes, but had none in white.
Understanding my needs, he remembered that
there was a new white 2017 LS model in inventory across the street with
the April 16% Off promotional sticker on it. He took me over there, and
I made up my mind quickly to spend several thousand more than I came in
expecting to spend. And I am delighted that I did so! Jeff then took me
through the purchase process quickly, and we had fun doing it, kidding
with Cheryl and others in the showroom. I bought my new car because of
Jeff! I cannot imagine a more professional sales person! -Duncan C.
McDougall, Grille Room Foreman, Plant 2A, Chevrolet-Flint Pressed Metal
(1968 model year).</span></span></div>
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<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody _1n4g">I also posted these words in the comments section of the satisfaction survey that I was sent by the dealership. When someone treats me well, and shows that he cares, I believe in giving him credit for it! </span></span></div>
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Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-27341648357816544982017-04-02T00:03:00.002-07:002017-04-02T06:53:34.905-07:00A Joy of Being a Teacher!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Mr. Bruce Mogayzel of Florida was our MBA student at Plymouth State College (now P.S.U.) in the class of 1980. It has been close to thirty years since I have seen him. He helped out at our house, and stayed with us awhile, when we lived in our little chalet off of Bog Road, in Campton, while Shirley was pregnant with our third child, Piper. Today, completely by surprise, I found this message in my e-mail:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Hi Duncan</span><br />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24159">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24166">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">For
some reason part of your blog appeared in the browser. I'm glad it
did. It gave me some insight to your activities over the last years.
Some good and some not so good. </span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24167">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24168">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Your Fulbright Scholarship and all it brought to you sounds fantastic and something that was well deserved. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24169">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Shirley's
and your health issues sound challenging but you seem to be positive
and coping. Your attitude and writings are more spiritual than I
remember. That's a good thing</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;">As I look back
over the years meeting you (and Shirley) when I entered graduate school
was just what I needed. I'm not sure how I would have survived that
ugly and bumpy period of my life. Thanks for reaching out and being
there for me when I needed it. I enjoyed being a McDougall, I guess
part of me will always be a McDougall. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24170">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">My
life's journey has been like a roller coaster but now there aren't as
many spikes and curves and "danger ahead" signs as there used to be. My
MBA opened doors for me and served as my career's foundation. I now
remember my time at PSC fondly. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24171">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">I
left Disney in 2004 and returned to Boston because of family health
issues and was my mother's part-time care giver. When she passed I left
my VP position at State Street Bank (SSGA) and headed to a warmer
climate.</span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24172">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24173">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">I'm
semi-retired and live a quiet life in Vero Beach FL with my "rescued"
Bengal cat. My health is a challenge at times when my <span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24174" style="font-size: small;">Autoimmune
system decides to act up and attacks my internal systems. Sometimes my
blood tests indicates that I have Lupus and other times it's barely
noticeable. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;">My life is more spiritual now and I volunteer for my church, the Florida Cancer Foundation as well as the Riverside Theatre. </span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24175">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Thanks for being there when I needed you Professor. Wish Shirley well for me.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Godspeed. </span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Sent from my iPhone</span><br />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1491076715042_24180">
<span style="color: #134f5c;">Bruce</span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
(Published with the author's permission.) </div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-86021920677280815892017-03-28T10:47:00.003-07:002017-03-28T10:54:31.468-07:00Hacked in PayPal? Here's the answer!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My adult daughter's checking account out in Colorado was wiped out last night. A hacker, working through PayPal, successfully withdrew over $3000.00 from her checking account.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, she is actively pursuing recovery of her money.<br />
<br />
I have made use of PayPal often. It has been very useful and convenient for sending money to friends and relatives, as on birthdays and the like. My PayPal account has long been linked to my checking account, so that money sent would appear on my bank statements, and monies received could easily be deposited. Today, after reporting my daughter's disaster to my bank's customer service rep, I have cancelled that link between my checking account and PayPal, as well as two credit card links.<br />
<br />
My bank's representative has informed me that the safest link is to my debit card. Debit transactions are limited to a total of $1,000.00 per day, she says, and if fraudulent use occurs, the bank can simply cancel the card, issue me a new one, and the leak will be plugged. Recovery of the stolen amount, she says, usually takes only one day.<br />
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This high-tech world we live in has many wonderful aspects, but is not without its risks. I wish my blog readers secure banking, and freedom from fraud! <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-22823656832525551332017-03-24T20:35:00.002-07:002017-05-29T17:09:26.336-07:00Ring's True<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rZ-LubN47Cw/WNZo2-Yzq2I/AAAAAAAAHKk/-HagTnmikscP_U0t5UuPKl93h3cL_MoXQCLcB/s1600/Wedding%2BDay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rZ-LubN47Cw/WNZo2-Yzq2I/AAAAAAAAHKk/-HagTnmikscP_U0t5UuPKl93h3cL_MoXQCLcB/s320/Wedding%2BDay.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ring's True</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">by</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Duncan C. McDougall </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My wedding ring went on me,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One October day,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And well have I worn it,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At both work and play.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Since <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Seventy-Three</span>, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Which now matches my age,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The ring has been on me,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Through</span> many a page.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I lived here in Campton,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At Beebe River I worked,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When Shirl-Girl said "Yes!"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Knowing happiness lurked,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In these White Mountains,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In a little chalet,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That was to be home to</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Four children one day! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Shirl gave me this ring,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"With this ring I thee wed,"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At our wedding in Westborough,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Where she<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> ha</span>d been bred.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then I wore it in Pittsburgh,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A coal industry guy,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It came along with me,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As I learned how to fly.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Tulsa it helped me,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To pass the exam,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To become a pilot,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">All life-long my dream.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It came</span> home to Campton,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Seventy-Six,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Where I started my teaching,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And soon <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">found</span> my niche.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As assistant professor,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At old P. S. C.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My ring felt a sense,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Of good things soon to be. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jamie was born here,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Laconia</span> town,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then Jesse followed, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Not tying us down!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We moved down to Westboruogh,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Where our family grew,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And I wore this fine ring,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Teaching now at B. U.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I went for my doctorate,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At H. B. S., </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Which took me six years,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Productive at best!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Piper and Alex </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Were born in that time,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">With Shirl and <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">m<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">e</span></span> bonding,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">By ring, and by rhyme.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There's more to this story,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This ring round the world,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To Romania, Panama,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> It sees flags unfurled,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Italy, Greece, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bulgaria, too,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Shirley's companionship,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Always comes through.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Cute, smart, and funny,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Dear Shirley, my wife! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I love you, old ring,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Please see me through life<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span> </span></div>
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Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-41596774266071211852017-03-22T08:31:00.001-07:002017-03-22T08:31:32.748-07:00Baha'i Queen of Romania<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My friend Titiana Șilimon-Morariu sent me this article. I found it relevant at this point in this blog.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://bahaiteachings.org/the-bahai-queen">http://bahaiteachings.org/the-bahai-queen</a><br />
<br /></div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-49406583761663116722017-03-06T08:08:00.002-08:002017-03-06T08:09:44.889-08:00Baha'i Parallel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HxccS8RRIv4/WL2Jd_0KqPI/AAAAAAAAHJg/tOUNxx892sAn8w9GlIsa6SB1Aw4LFWXigCLcB/s1600/temple-cover-final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HxccS8RRIv4/WL2Jd_0KqPI/AAAAAAAAHJg/tOUNxx892sAn8w9GlIsa6SB1Aw4LFWXigCLcB/s320/temple-cover-final.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From: Duncan C McDougall [mailto:oldrider_nh@yahoo.com]<br />
Sent: Saturday, March 04, 2017 3:30 PM<br />
To: House of Worship Activities<br />
Subject: My poem perhaps parallels Baha'i thinking?<br />
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Dear friends at the Baha'i Temple,<br />
I am a 73 year-old retired professor who grew up in Wilmette. In
2008-09 I had the honor of teaching in Cluj-Napoca, Romania, the
historical capital of Transylvania. I have returned for a part of each
year thereafter, with the exception of 2016. <br />
While visiting over the Christmas season in 2012, my Muse visited me with the poem at the link below: <br />
A Poem for the Holidays (Link below)<br />
I am in no way an expert in Baha'i teachings, but based upon what my
mother taught me as a boy, it occurs to me that my poem's theme may
parallel the teachings in your beautiful nine-sided dome.<br />
I would love to hear from you about that, whether you agree or disagree.<br />
Sincerely yours,<br />
Duncan (NT '61)<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
To: oldrider_nh@yahoo.com <br />
Messchecking our E-mail and assume that no one else on the staff has
responded. I enjoyed reading it and indeed the sentiments expressed the
inclusiveness of the Bahá'í Teachings. Your mother indeed taught you
well. I think the core Teaching is that Humanity now must recognize
that we are citizens of one World as Bahá’u’lláh has said “The Earth is
but one country and Mankind its citizens” and he went on to say “Let
your vision be world embracing and not concerned with your own selves.” <a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.bahai.us%2Fbahai-temple&h=ATNf5mSavHfttyjBrha7sHMUlifJL9ZfUGymrdGPYDH1q6YCfETzOL1guyLPoe-JKbpNWE3ZiBIgEmSgt5J_SBjrlIs64W26onxU68iVC66gZvnE8Pnu5pFzDG1N27F3lOvuMTfohK-E2w&enc=AZP79IZt0UCDLSZUkmh8BtBBTIs45rDM1DUpU2WfWitL-hKN0iMOa6WxCDMsN80nrzDm7sQgtdxTSE5CNSRbITSZBUPidg17QcMk4C5by0hpRK56B5t92Wzl3rG4nmcBUNU-rFclgOnUutXxMADPwHAvS0nt5pf4wLLvqz5vUbvPsLVpgWGbVZVf773KsVPFlKM&s=1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.bahai.us/bahai-temple</a><br />
With very best wishes<br />
Chris<br />
Christopher Vodden<br />
Director of the Activities Office<br />
Baha’i House of Worship Welcome Center<br />
100 Linden Ave Wilmette, IL 60091</div>
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<span class="_3c21"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fdcmcd2.blogspot.com%2F2012%2F12%2Fchristmas-poem.html&h=ATMIq71h1xkbvwRnMBPTge9ss4HccIjWismGDIK8tv2QenNYx0B167xwhvnzAl7Wg5kwB8ZZktDBS9QHV_SoRc3Ewd2Q2bq75Pg_Rlss1nOROfhzS0a6N4nhdJM_Hv8qdABM&enc=AZN22DjFjZbwDBJdB2OOK6c1heJ_b7dvF4OCcW_GXvrXLUZMbvG2VyUWJSPVGKtxorRWvkcJFMX089aV7dBjInaeax_pGYPk8Kmc8hUe3mDVd2Ybv7KEOZQEJSnKkruybqYRkzkU_xgsiw25RUbNkh2aNLPNS6rgEaMRzn1-05GLDOd1jyOFRirtyPmC7PHvGjE&s=1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">A Poem for the Holidays</a></span></div>
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Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-62410259101821364522017-03-02T10:24:00.001-08:002017-03-02T10:27:22.167-08:00So Nice of Her!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://mobile.nytimes.com/2017/02/24/style/modern-love-when-your-greatest-romance-is-friendship.html?emc=eta1&_r=0&referer=http%3A%2F%2Fm.facebook.com%2F" rel="nofollow" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" tabindex="-1" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="scaledImageFitWidth img" height="255" src="https://external-ort2-1.xx.fbcdn.net/safe_image.php?d=AQC1WHXMAvcatGX0&w=487&h=255&url=https%3A%2F%2Fstatic01.nyt.com%2Fimages%2F2017%2F02%2F24%2Ffashion%2F26modern%2F26modern-facebookJumbo.jpg&cfs=1&upscale=1&_nc_hash=AQCpdKS8n1YKxQBE" width="487" /></a></div>
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<span class="_3m6-"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fmobile.nytimes.com%2F2017%2F02%2F24%2Fstyle%2Fmodern-love-when-your-greatest-romance-is-friendship.html%3Femc%3Deta1%26_r%3D0%26referer%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252Fm.facebook.com%252F&h=ATMnNEixTelrHhWdT0Le-3BOFE4Oti9AYnYQk9owYt9bure-QS1UUY8bu9VbyYPDtdwFGzkpGOOxNLfPGUi--ymo7WI6sQkU7SA84N0qPY8YgUEc4VOQ5OcX7YxuN1qH5Chz&enc=AZMPwUVAxfthMRQS0BnbmSJ-SV8xri8ECpeKRPIDdYEfEVD0QgBVkUuu3dZNk0-Q9rA9fzD7ZmvThL8GAS0j3_xtV2U1zMnFGXcDBwH9r4A1Mt81qXu9IX0SoVExVEMVPLsD4yqpRNVd3uTn7Xkj_C6v9jRe1hDADiaI-2vriG2h7M7A4iL7n0XZLKfN1rhdaIw&s=1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">When Your Greatest Romance Is a Friendship</a></span></div>
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<span class="_3m6-">A writer seeking solitude in a small town finds himself developing a deep and unlikely bond with his elderly neighbor.</span></div>
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<span class="_3m6-">nytimes.com</span><br />
<br />
<span class="_3m6-">(A special young friend sent this link. I was touched that she would do so.) </span></div>
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Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-3096429033482195042017-02-25T16:01:00.002-08:002017-02-25T16:05:17.340-08:00Stroke Update: Thoughts of Saturday Evening, 25 February 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As I reported in Facebook, I turned 73.5 years old today.😉<br />
<br />
Next Friday it will be six months since I experienced the first symptoms of my stroke. I sit here at my laptop and type in Blogger, largely with my left hand, but actually assisting with my right. I am able to walk. Today I drove my sweet old Hyundai Santa Fe to Walmart in Plymouth, then eschewed the powered carts and walked a regular shopping cart to both ends of the store in order to fulfill Shirl's list. For a guy whose right limbs were totally non-functioning last September 5th (two days into my stroke experience), I consider myself blessed. I was hemiplegic. Now, I am much better-off.<br />
<br />
Moving and using my right arm and hand still are challenging, and subject to limits of flexibility causing pain when I try to extend them. My walk still has a bit of a limp to it, and my balance is still imperfect, making the use of a cane helpful. But I can walk! And I can wash with both hands! And I see improvement every week!<br />
<br />
Praise be to God! And to all my loyal friends and family, thank you for your support!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-23067823069863789392017-02-02T21:32:00.000-08:002017-06-23T07:21:46.817-07:00A Realization<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Aging brings with it lots of nagging little irritations, such as stiff joints, aches and pains, and strokes. One might be tempted to complain. I cannot.<br />
<br />
Our Creator has blessed me with an amazing life. This blog and its predecessor (<a href="http://dcmcd.blogspot.com/">dcmcd.blogspot.com</a>) report much about my blessings of the past decade, but those are but the latest in a series of blessings far too long to enumerate. Please indulge me as I cite a few.<br />
<br />
As a boy I was blessed to attend the outstanding Wilmette Public Schools, in Wilmette, Illinois, and to learn to swim at the Evanston YMCA, and in Lake Michigan at Wilmette Beach. As a teenager at New Trier Township High School, I went out for their famous swimming team. Coach Robertson timed me, as a freshman, in both freestyle and breaststroke. I will never forget his looking at his stopwatch, then asking me, "Do you like to dive?" Three years later, this was the outcome:<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V_mXBovfk1Y/WJQD6ukZ3iI/AAAAAAAAHIM/GRMt-fbnba8EHzBg-2BdK8i8FcuRrfhTACLcB/s1600/Diver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V_mXBovfk1Y/WJQD6ukZ3iI/AAAAAAAAHIM/GRMt-fbnba8EHzBg-2BdK8i8FcuRrfhTACLcB/s320/Diver.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I was a pretty good student, at least after my first year, when my 2.50 first-semester GPA caused my father to insist that I quit the freshman swim team, and focus on my studies. I guess his wisdom proved out, as I scored well enough in later years and on the SATs to be admitted to Amherst College in Massachusetts. At Amherst I continued to dive, but got into motorcycling, and was, at best, only a so-so student. In searching for a subject in which to "major", I took the first course in most of the sciences, as well as many courses in the liberal arts. When the day came that I had to declare my major, I learned that there was but one department whose major requirements not yet taken would fit in my remaining semesters, and allow me to graduate in the Class of '65, and that is how I came to be a Fine Arts major.<br />
<br />
I am not an artist. But I had taken Technical Drawing at New Trier, and I knew how to use a T-square and triangle. So, I took the general fine arts classes at Amherst, and an architectural drawing class down the road at Smith College, a famous women's college in Northampton, Mass. In fact, I was working on an examination drawing in that class on 22 November, 1963, when a student opened the door to our classroom, and reported, "President Kennedy has been shot to death." John Kennedy was from Massachusetts. My classmates were appalled, and released from the exam by our professor. I asked him if I might stay and complete my drawing, since returning would require another trip from Amherst. He consented, and I did so. I do recall, however, that in the perspective drawing I forgot to put a "vanishing line" in at eye level, and hence produced a ground-level view of the fast food restaurant we were drawing. As it happened, I caught my own error, and labeled the perspective "worm's-eye view." The good professor did not penalize me for this error. <br />
<br />
So, I had sat through many slide shows and heard many lectures regarding the fine arts as practiced through the centuries, all around the world. Hence, forty-five years later, when I visited the Romanian Orthodox churches of northern and eastern Romania, doing so as a visiting professor of business on a Fulbright Scholarship, I knew of the tradition of illuminating the walls with frescoes, a tradition that had led to such amazing murals as these:<br />
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I was thrilled, therefore, when at the Putna Monastery in Județ Suceava, my students and I came upon the master painter Mihai Moroșan at work, creating exactly such a level of art.<br />
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The blessing of this chance meeting has only grown since that day, as Master Moroșan and his wonderful wife Waltraudi have come to be among my closest and most-cherished friends in Romania.<br />
<br />
So, where am I going with this reminiscence?<br />
<br />
I am in recovery from a stroke of 3 September, 2016. I have come far, but was not until this week sure that I wanted to continue living.<br />
<br />
It has been difficult since September. Then, two days ago, the Lord visited my brain with the realization that He has been playing an active role in my life for many, many years. I realized that I have Him to thank for the many wonderful interpersonal relationships I have had, the breadth of professional experiences I have had both in manufacturing and in teaching, my wide-ranging travels, the six marvelous children I have fathered, etc., etc., etc.<br />
<br />
I told my beloved wife Shirl two days ago, "I am going to get well, and I am going to stay alive, because I believe that God has some use for me still, and I owe it to Him to stay alive to fulfill that purpose, whatever it may turn out to be."<br />
<br />
Amen. </div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-6033944190730028632017-01-16T08:30:00.000-08:002017-02-05T08:25:53.139-08:00An Important Thing To Do <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yesterday we received the news that my wife Shirl's brother, David Kimball, just days shy of 70 years old, has been admitted to the hospital with blood clots in his lungs. He awoke yesterday barely able to breathe. <br />
<br />
I do not know much yet about Dave's condition, nor about its cause. I do not know if he was able to drive himself to the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center (DHMC) where he spent last night. But after my 07:15 physical therapy appointment this morning, I called DHMC and learned that he is able to receive visitors all day, today. DHMC is just over an hour from here by car, and I shall head over there, leaving in three minutes.<br />
<br />
As an inpatient at HealthSouth in Concord for the month of September, 2016, I learned how important such visits can be.</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8321906230110554212.post-53158781290369078792016-11-19T17:32:00.001-08:002017-01-21T13:27:33.205-08:00Randolph, NH, Honors A Great American<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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At the invitation of Marjorie Cross, my wife of seven years (1965-'72), I attended today the interment of her father's ashes in Randolph, New Hampshire. <br />
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Hershner Cross was the name of her father. He was a fine man in too many ways to explain. <a href="http://rand-wilson.com/obituaries/obit_view.php?id=213" target="_blank">His obituary is at this link</a>, and gives the gist of the story. <br />
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RIP, dear Hersh, my first father-in-law!</div>
Duncan McDougallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993501047174297314noreply@blogger.com0