It's 5am and I've given up on sleeping. I get up, descend the stairs and begin to make the coffee. Out loud I hear myself saying, "What-in-the-hell are you doing up at 5am on a holiday weekend, with nothing more to do than paint the guest room?" No answer. So here I am, now 5:30, sipping coffee, reading Hendrick Hertzberg's first line, "The week before the week before this week's scheduled gathering. . ." in the new New Yorker Paul Suerken has provided me for 20+ years as a Christmas gift, listening to Krips conducting a 1974 ensemble of Mozart's Don Giovani overture on the Arts channel, within eyeshot of the clock hanging on the wall I bought from Clockman with Paul in God knows what year. . . And now I know why I am awake. We were able to choose our influences at Mercersburg. I chose mine. And now he's slung up in a bed in Erie and there's nothing I can do about it. I am beside myself.
And now for a little bit of an update:
Suerk will check out of St. Vincent on Tuesday, 2 September, and move to a nursing home. This change of venue brings with it existential issues – "What will become of my beloved Bostons, Cleo and Gigi? Will I ever be able to return to the home on Hilltop Road? How will I fund the new care? Do I want to live?" Some of these questions can be answered. The dogs are moving to Atlanta. Some questions cannot. In addressing these issues, Paul is often using the phrase, "My life as a quadriplegic." People do ask me, "Does Paul want to live this way?" Were you to ask me before this accident if Paul would want to live, this way, I would have said, "ABSOLUTELY, NO WAY." But I would have been wrong. The things that gave Paul life before the accident – friendships, music, words, humor, irony. . . still give him life. So he wants to live and he will, as long his body lets him. Until then, know that the letters and love do give Paul one more reason to look forward to a new day.
When we have a new physical address, you will know.
This is the first entry in the blog that I read to Paul before posting, requesting permission. Permission was granted.
30 August 2008
28 August 2008
"And Trying to Remember, Like Jabberwocky. . ."
We share this letter with Becky Peace's permission.
Paul Suerken!
Mercersburg sent your email address. I have been searching for the opportunity to tell you these things for some time, and today is a good day.
Every time I hear the Simon and Garfunkel song "America" on the radio, I remember listening to that song with you in Boone a long, long time ago! I remember feeling ferocious angst, frustration and disconnection -- surely I thought at the time -- it was more than anyone ever had to bear. You responded with such compassion to all of the erratic and irrational symptoms of my youth. I have never forgotten.
And... those books I read in your tenth grade English class are truly part of my architecture now -- distilling essence of character from Hemmingway's terse portrayal of Nick Adams and Jake, looking for green light at the end of Gatsby's harbor for hope and possibility, trying to overcome the inertia that froze Prufrock from eating that _+(*! peach... the Heart of Darkness focus of attention on the rivets of the boat as waters get murkier and situations more treacherous... And trying to just remember, like Jabberwocky that life really is the joy of just being what we make it to be.
I have come to realize that these things are not inconsequential and none of these lessons were ordinary. You were an extraordinary teacher and you gave a sense of legitimacy to a 15 year old when she felt unsure about where and how her feet should go in the world. And I have been remiss for not telling you how profoundly you influenced me in my life. I should thank you every day.
But I will settle for today.
Thank you for teaching me to marvel at the magic of words and much more.
Enjoy this day, my dear friend.
Fondly always!
Rebecca (Becky) Peace (class of '75)
Paul Suerken!
Mercersburg sent your email address. I have been searching for the opportunity to tell you these things for some time, and today is a good day.
Every time I hear the Simon and Garfunkel song "America" on the radio, I remember listening to that song with you in Boone a long, long time ago! I remember feeling ferocious angst, frustration and disconnection -- surely I thought at the time -- it was more than anyone ever had to bear. You responded with such compassion to all of the erratic and irrational symptoms of my youth. I have never forgotten.
And... those books I read in your tenth grade English class are truly part of my architecture now -- distilling essence of character from Hemmingway's terse portrayal of Nick Adams and Jake, looking for green light at the end of Gatsby's harbor for hope and possibility, trying to overcome the inertia that froze Prufrock from eating that _+(*! peach... the Heart of Darkness focus of attention on the rivets of the boat as waters get murkier and situations more treacherous... And trying to just remember, like Jabberwocky that life really is the joy of just being what we make it to be.
I have come to realize that these things are not inconsequential and none of these lessons were ordinary. You were an extraordinary teacher and you gave a sense of legitimacy to a 15 year old when she felt unsure about where and how her feet should go in the world. And I have been remiss for not telling you how profoundly you influenced me in my life. I should thank you every day.
But I will settle for today.
Thank you for teaching me to marvel at the magic of words and much more.
Enjoy this day, my dear friend.
Fondly always!
Rebecca (Becky) Peace (class of '75)
27 August 2008
Suerk at Mark and Blythe Webber's Wedding ----- 18 August 2007
We are due for an update. That will come soon. For now, here is the last of three photos from Blythe and Mark Weber's wedding a year ago.
19 August 2008
Progress
An update on Paul’s condition has been overdue. When I asked him last week to help me with a word or two to characterize things, he said, “Be innocuous. Tell them I’m having a good day.” I chose to say nothing and to think instead about telling the story about asparagus on the holidays.
Paul does seem to be making progress. The paralysis has not changed. The injury at c’s 4, 5 and 6 seems determined to hold its grip. This means "no movement below the elbows,” as Paul puts it, but that is not entirely true. The therapists at St. Vincent are working with Paul to help him to learn to use his arms, hands following, via the control he has in his shoulders and elbows. Paul seems encouraged that he is making progress in therapy and his attitude is positive.
The paralysis does not simply impact Paul’s limbs. It also limits the use of the diaphragm, which means Paul’s great lung capacity is not in full use. His breath is relatively shallow. He does not cough. This is why pneumonia was and is a threat, and why Paul’s respiratory therapists are some of his best friends. He has at least three breathing treatments a day – usually more.
What can I say about Paul's mood(s)? Paul has always had them. Imagine the depths to which he travels. But the resilience of spirit and the strength of Paul’s character are astonishing. He is still all there, and for that I have no words. When I asked him yesterday how he was going to spend the rest of the day, Paul said, “Johnny is coming over with the Sunday Times. He’s going to read me Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich, AND WE ARE GOING TO GET AS MAD AS HELL!”
More later. For now, Please know the letters pouring in through forpaulsuerken@gmail.com are reaching him – printed, delivered and read as they come in. Snail mail can be sent, for now, to: St. Vincent, 232 West 25th Street, Erie, PA 16544. Expect an address change in mid September.
Cheers.
Paul does seem to be making progress. The paralysis has not changed. The injury at c’s 4, 5 and 6 seems determined to hold its grip. This means "no movement below the elbows,” as Paul puts it, but that is not entirely true. The therapists at St. Vincent are working with Paul to help him to learn to use his arms, hands following, via the control he has in his shoulders and elbows. Paul seems encouraged that he is making progress in therapy and his attitude is positive.
The paralysis does not simply impact Paul’s limbs. It also limits the use of the diaphragm, which means Paul’s great lung capacity is not in full use. His breath is relatively shallow. He does not cough. This is why pneumonia was and is a threat, and why Paul’s respiratory therapists are some of his best friends. He has at least three breathing treatments a day – usually more.
What can I say about Paul's mood(s)? Paul has always had them. Imagine the depths to which he travels. But the resilience of spirit and the strength of Paul’s character are astonishing. He is still all there, and for that I have no words. When I asked him yesterday how he was going to spend the rest of the day, Paul said, “Johnny is coming over with the Sunday Times. He’s going to read me Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich, AND WE ARE GOING TO GET AS MAD AS HELL!”
More later. For now, Please know the letters pouring in through forpaulsuerken@gmail.com are reaching him – printed, delivered and read as they come in. Snail mail can be sent, for now, to: St. Vincent, 232 West 25th Street, Erie, PA 16544. Expect an address change in mid September.
Cheers.
17 August 2008
13 August 2008
A Letter From Andrew Wentzel
Paul is happy to be back in a rehab facility -- this time at St. Vincent in Erie. He is in the care of many caring professionals, one of whom has been his primary physician for many years and was also a former student of Paul's at Mercersburg. Without significant developments to share, we thought we might post a letter sent to Paul from an old friend. We post this letter after requesting and receiving Mr. Wentzel's permission. Here is that letter:
Dear Paul,
Yesterday, yes that is absolutely the truth, yesterday I was taking stock of all of the gifts that I have been given in my life. Why? Well, there was a tragic shooting in our town, Knoxville, TN this past week. It was a senseless act against people whose beliefs differed from the shooter's views. Among those who took action to offer a hand of support to the youth of that community was my son, Forrest, who is 16. I could not have been more proud of him.
In many ways he is what he is because of the influence of the people in my life. When I was 16, at Mercersburg, and you turned 30, you were the force which shaped me and propelled me to my life's passion and journey in music. And, just yesterday I was thinking about that. I was thinking about you and all of the times I had told people that you were one of the two or three people who had the most profound impact on my choice to make music my life. I was thinking about that and I was wondering if I had ever made sure that you had heard that message from me. We both left Mercersburg and our paths rarely crossed again but in a very real way I felt that you have walked with me every step of my journey from performing all over the world to, now, primarily teaching students and helping them gain the tools to realize their
dreams.
The news of your fall and all of the challenges you have faced since leaves me wanting for words. I try to compare it to your mo-ped accident on Corfu but this seems to be providing a stiffer challenge. I hear the brave, determined words in your message from the hospital and know that whatever the battle is that you confront you will have the grace and the joy of spirit to take it on and make the choice that will bring light into your life. The fact that you are surrounded by dear friends who care for you without question tells me that you have continued to live your life in the way that so influenced me during our years together.
Please know that you will be always in my thoughts and that if there is anything that I can do for you from my haven in Knoxville, Tennessee all you and your friends have to do is call or write.
With gratitude to you for all you have given me through the past 44 years,
Your cymbal player,
Andy Wentzel
(Winkle)
Dear Paul,
Yesterday, yes that is absolutely the truth, yesterday I was taking stock of all of the gifts that I have been given in my life. Why? Well, there was a tragic shooting in our town, Knoxville, TN this past week. It was a senseless act against people whose beliefs differed from the shooter's views. Among those who took action to offer a hand of support to the youth of that community was my son, Forrest, who is 16. I could not have been more proud of him.
In many ways he is what he is because of the influence of the people in my life. When I was 16, at Mercersburg, and you turned 30, you were the force which shaped me and propelled me to my life's passion and journey in music. And, just yesterday I was thinking about that. I was thinking about you and all of the times I had told people that you were one of the two or three people who had the most profound impact on my choice to make music my life. I was thinking about that and I was wondering if I had ever made sure that you had heard that message from me. We both left Mercersburg and our paths rarely crossed again but in a very real way I felt that you have walked with me every step of my journey from performing all over the world to, now, primarily teaching students and helping them gain the tools to realize their
dreams.
The news of your fall and all of the challenges you have faced since leaves me wanting for words. I try to compare it to your mo-ped accident on Corfu but this seems to be providing a stiffer challenge. I hear the brave, determined words in your message from the hospital and know that whatever the battle is that you confront you will have the grace and the joy of spirit to take it on and make the choice that will bring light into your life. The fact that you are surrounded by dear friends who care for you without question tells me that you have continued to live your life in the way that so influenced me during our years together.
Please know that you will be always in my thoughts and that if there is anything that I can do for you from my haven in Knoxville, Tennessee all you and your friends have to do is call or write.
With gratitude to you for all you have given me through the past 44 years,
Your cymbal player,
Andy Wentzel
(Winkle)
10 August 2008
Looking Out on a Beautiful Day
It is the one of the most awkward of things to ask someone in Paul's condition, "How are you doing today?" But you do ask. And when you do, as I did yesterday, he says, "I am looking out on a day about as beautiful as we get in Erie." So in a very real way, Paul is doing well.
One of Paul's dear friends shared this poem recently. Read it and take from it what you will. Paul would like that. He would also ask that once read, you would read it again and maybe then again.
Ithaka
As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon — don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon — you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time:
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind —
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
Constantine P. Cavafy
One of Paul's dear friends shared this poem recently. Read it and take from it what you will. Paul would like that. He would also ask that once read, you would read it again and maybe then again.
Ithaka
As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon — don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon — you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time:
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind —
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
Constantine P. Cavafy
08 August 2008
A Change of Venue
Paul has a new address – St. Vincent Health System, Erie, PA.
We all thought Paul was going to be readmitted to the rehabilitation facility, Health South. It was decided, however, that the rehab unit within St. Vincent would be a better place. When we asked him how the transfer went, he said, “Well, it was very smoothly executed, and here I am.” Today’s activities will include “going to the gym to crunch,” as he says. We will know more soon. For now, Paul wants the message to get out that he is grateful for the “ongoing amount of affection and love.” As one of Paul's friends quotes from the film Elizabethtown, "This new chapter in Suerk's life brings with it a 'hurricane of love.'" Amen.
Please share this weblog address with Paul's friends. Letters, photos, mp3's and more can be directed to: forpaulsuerken@gmail.com
Note the Mercersburg Octet button near the top of the page. A click on the 'play button' will launch recordings of the Octet's De Animals, and then Sassafras.
We all thought Paul was going to be readmitted to the rehabilitation facility, Health South. It was decided, however, that the rehab unit within St. Vincent would be a better place. When we asked him how the transfer went, he said, “Well, it was very smoothly executed, and here I am.” Today’s activities will include “going to the gym to crunch,” as he says. We will know more soon. For now, Paul wants the message to get out that he is grateful for the “ongoing amount of affection and love.” As one of Paul's friends quotes from the film Elizabethtown, "This new chapter in Suerk's life brings with it a 'hurricane of love.'" Amen.
Please share this weblog address with Paul's friends. Letters, photos, mp3's and more can be directed to: forpaulsuerken@gmail.com
Note the Mercersburg Octet button near the top of the page. A click on the 'play button' will launch recordings of the Octet's De Animals, and then Sassafras.
05 August 2008
Even the Mercersburg Inn!
There may be some positive news to report. Paul's condition seems to have stabilized enough for a return to the rehab facility, Health South. This may happen as early as Wednesday if all goes well. In the meantime, he is gaining strength and his spirits have been buoyed by all the love and good wishes shared through the many correspondences you have sent him.
It might be right, occasionally, to share some of the correspondences friends are sending Paul. We will do it, of course, only with permission. Here, in part, is a letter sent from Paul's dear friend, Edward, a former Mercersburg teacher:
Dear Paul,
I suppose I should be grateful to this technology for enabling me to communicate, but for some reason it only increases my frustration. It seems, somehow, to mock my desire to tell you what is most in my heart. It is this: you are an important part of my life; I have always considered it gilt-edged proof that I was a good person because a man like Paul Suerken liked me; your friendship has sustained and strengthened me for as long as I have known you---and I'll wager you have heard that said over and over again by each of your friends.
I'd give anything to be sitting with you at a table at the White Barn Inn...or the Barnard Inn...or even the Mercersburg Inn! Then, after the Chateau Lafite and over a glass of Chateau Y'quem, I'd really be able to tell you how much you have meant to me these forty years. I and all your friends need you more than you can ever really know, so you must persevere and get back to the rehabilitation program and back to progress.
Love,
Edward
It might be right, occasionally, to share some of the correspondences friends are sending Paul. We will do it, of course, only with permission. Here, in part, is a letter sent from Paul's dear friend, Edward, a former Mercersburg teacher:
Dear Paul,
I suppose I should be grateful to this technology for enabling me to communicate, but for some reason it only increases my frustration. It seems, somehow, to mock my desire to tell you what is most in my heart. It is this: you are an important part of my life; I have always considered it gilt-edged proof that I was a good person because a man like Paul Suerken liked me; your friendship has sustained and strengthened me for as long as I have known you---and I'll wager you have heard that said over and over again by each of your friends.
I'd give anything to be sitting with you at a table at the White Barn Inn...or the Barnard Inn...or even the Mercersburg Inn! Then, after the Chateau Lafite and over a glass of Chateau Y'quem, I'd really be able to tell you how much you have meant to me these forty years. I and all your friends need you more than you can ever really know, so you must persevere and get back to the rehabilitation program and back to progress.
Love,
Edward
04 August 2008
Photographs, Memories and Contemplation
Paul remains in a good place. He is comfortable. Many have asked if Paul 'feels' trapped because of the paralysis. His response is, "I cannot feel trapped because I cannot feel." He still jokes. He still laughs, though in a whisper. John Chapman remains by Paul's side, devoted as ever. It is safe to say that Paul is thinking less about his beloved Indians, this presidential election and the concerts he is missing at Chautauqua. He is thinking much more about the outpouring of love and memories his friends are sending him. Paul has a whole lot to say to all of those concerned. We will do our best to convey his thoughts in his own words in the coming days. For now, though, let’s share memories, laughs and music.
This little web log (blog) is a place to share for now. Send wishes, pictures, music and more to: forpaulsuerken@gmail.com, or ‘click’ “comment” after the entry you read.
This little web log (blog) is a place to share for now. Send wishes, pictures, music and more to: forpaulsuerken@gmail.com, or ‘click’ “comment” after the entry you read.
03 August 2008
Spread the Word
On 14 July, Paul was admitted to a rehab facility in Erie called Health South where he started therapy. For two weeks he seemed to have a strong determination to reach out to loved ones, to enthusiastically engage in his therapy regimen and to come to grips with the magnitude of his spinal injury – the major outcome of which seems to be that he may not regain significant feeling our use below the elbows. He did all this with the help of a most cherished loved one, John Chapman, who has been by his side tirelessly since the day after the accident. Along with John Chapman, David McChesney who Paul mentioned in his letter, Tom Weber who many know as another devoted, long-time friend and neighbor, and Rabbi John Busch have kept up their frequent visits and remain a valuable cheering section.
On the weekend of 25 July Paul began to experience respiratory difficulties related to the fact that his paralysis inhibits full use of his diaphragm. This has lead to congestion in the lungs and the beginnings of what his doctors fear may become a battle with pneumonia. On Monday, 28 July, Paul was readmitted to Hamot Hospital in Erie where he remains on an array of antibiotics and in good care. He is still receiving a few visitors and his spirits remain high, but it has become very difficult and fatiguing for him to communicate for long. He is resting comfortably, but for now he is mostly resting when he is not being transported around the hospital for x-rays and other tests.
Suerk has spent his 70 years on the earth cultivating relationships with a vast network of family and friends. Consider this letter from this email address, forpaulsuerken@gmail.com, an attempt to reach as many people in his network as possible. Many people will be missed, so please help us by forwarding this note to anyone you think may be interested in knowing his situation. Respond to this email address and your words will be read to him. Respond with a note you want broadcast to his larger network and we will consider doing that. Respond with email addresses of others you think should be on the list and we will add them to the next update. We will do our best at keeping informed anyone who is interested.
On the weekend of 25 July Paul began to experience respiratory difficulties related to the fact that his paralysis inhibits full use of his diaphragm. This has lead to congestion in the lungs and the beginnings of what his doctors fear may become a battle with pneumonia. On Monday, 28 July, Paul was readmitted to Hamot Hospital in Erie where he remains on an array of antibiotics and in good care. He is still receiving a few visitors and his spirits remain high, but it has become very difficult and fatiguing for him to communicate for long. He is resting comfortably, but for now he is mostly resting when he is not being transported around the hospital for x-rays and other tests.
Suerk has spent his 70 years on the earth cultivating relationships with a vast network of family and friends. Consider this letter from this email address, forpaulsuerken@gmail.com, an attempt to reach as many people in his network as possible. Many people will be missed, so please help us by forwarding this note to anyone you think may be interested in knowing his situation. Respond to this email address and your words will be read to him. Respond with a note you want broadcast to his larger network and we will consider doing that. Respond with email addresses of others you think should be on the list and we will add them to the next update. We will do our best at keeping informed anyone who is interested.
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