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A Few Christmas Thoughts

I did not grow up in a perfect household, but then again, who does?  I remember Christmas’s with a child’s wonder, first how that little man could visit every house in the world in one night, and later how my parents could engage us for 24 hours on the 25th. of December in such a total way.  I tell my substitute teaching students about the fact that I had the principal or Superintendent to deal with after a horrific day at school.  They cannot believe that their fathers are not the closest thing to their own schoolyard stories of each day.  Mine seemed more there, if that was possible.   I also like to tell them that I can outroar any of them because I grew up with eight brothers and sisters.  I can easily out roar any of them, I tell them.  Sometimes they get to find out why I say that.

Anyway, when we were very small children our parents decided on one Christmas that the best way to give us presents was to build or sew them themselves.  So they did.  After a day in Omaha, Nebraska at our wealthier cousins house, one of us was heard to say on the ride home, “I sure can’t stand using their toys, I can’t wait until we get home with our own stuff.”  (Something like that).  It made my parent’s day, to  say the least.

My father was the youngest, at twenty-six years of age, Superintendent in Iowa.  His previous claim to fame had been to teach in Barnum, Iowa, where I was born, and take nine players on the Barnum High School baseball team, to Des Moines where Barnum outplayed every school in Iowa and won the state championship.  With just nine boys, none of whom would ever be able to sit out a bad inning because there were actually no back-up players.  He loved telling that story to his first two sons, who were kind of askance in the baseball area.  Tom and I could not  play passable baseball.  Tom was a lot better than I  was, and he let me know it.

Later, in probably our proudest moment with our father, until Lowell, he went to Chicago, actually a town right out of the famous South Side, he tackled a superintendency that was riled with problems related to civics and the relationship between whites and blacks, as we were known in those days.  We were just some kids from Iowa, and we were thrown into the depths of the debate.  One of us came out a liberal, while the other came out a conservative.  We still are those two diametrically opposite men.

My father was told that one of his schools was unbalanced as far as civil rights was concerned.  One school was one hundred percent black.  He took my younger brother Charlie, an elementary school pupil, to the Riley School in Harvey, Illinois and placed him in that school.  He was written up all over Chicago for that one.  In a very positive way, but nevertheless, written up.  Charlie was, of course, not African-American.  He was a good friend to a number of new friends, however.

Once, my best friend, who, as my grandfather from Iowa asked, “Is he Greek?”  “No, Grandpa, he is black,” was with me as we went to my house to play chess.  I was not very good, but I tried.  My friend usually beat me.  The editor of the local newspaper saw the two of us in our living room playing one another and wanted to print a story about how my parents were the “Real McCoy,” as they used to say every so often.  My father convinced him that I was just with a friend, not a white friend or a black friend.  Just a friend.  That friend and I went camping together in Iowa later that year.  In one day we caught fourteen freshwater fish.  That was our personal record.  My friend became an expert on President Herbert Hoover because we visited Hoover’s Library in West Branch, Iowa.  He had become very interested in Hoover while spending a day at the site.  He knows more about Hoover than I do.  He is still my best friend, and lives in Kentucky.  And, he is still African-American.

Anyway, on the sad day of Martin Luther King’s killing, we spent time together. We eventually became part of the groom’s party at our mutual weddings.  That was when my grandfather asked that question.  He could not understand that my best friend, other than my wife, was not white.  I loved him, he was my grandfather.  But on this, he was horribly wrong.

Later, my father would convince me that he was  the most aggressive Superintendent in Lowell’s recent history.  I have an article in the SUN that stated that my father called in the federal government over a practice in the Lowell that discriminated against the poor.  George Kouleheras had an argument over engaging the feds.  My father pointed out that, if the truth be told, the poor were more in need of the school’s services than the wealthy.  This after he had defeated his highest ranking opponent in the School Committee race by 4,621.  Bullet voting would be his Christmas present in 1975.

George Anthes recently asked me why I told stories about Paul Tsongas but not as many about Wayne Peters.  First, I guess I would have to acknowledge that I knew Wayne Peters better.  There are more stories about him to tell.  Fishing in the Midwest is a constant.  Fishing stories abound with Paul too, but I fear the audience would not have the same level of familiarity with Paul and maybe some of the stories would overlap or be redundant.  Also, the audience is probably more interested in stories about Paul than my father, and I am a storyteller.  So I do tell stories about my father.  I remember when we dedicated the LHS Library Computer Room for my father and I had many stories to tell.  It was fun.  And, I believe people liked that press for that day.  My father proved himself to be of some interest, not the least to George who ended up saying a few nice words about my father as one of the speakers.  I will intersperse my comments about Wayne Peters with my comments about Paul Tsongas.  As I have often told people, there is not a huge difference between being the son of the School Superintendent and the brother-in-law of the U.S. Senator from Massachusetts.  In  both cases you have to watch what you say and who you are saying it to.  It is pretty much the same level of pressure.  The School Superintendent because he is your father and you have to do your best everyday.  The Senator because he is a family member and you, likewise, have to do your best everyday.

When Vicki and I started dating, I was not wildly popular with the Tsongas family.  But Paul did his best to accept me, and I remember many Christmas’s where he and I would sit by the dining room windows at Mansur Street and look out at the snow falling on the large yard.  Paul and I would talk, and from that would come many of my principles.  Do not hit your children was one of them, and the Golden Rule, do unto others as you would have others do onto you, was another.  Paul was like a brother to me and I was in the Tsongas family since my wedding, on June 7, 1975.  A total of forty three wonderful years where I got the chance to be a member of a very influential family.  What Mr. Themo Tsongas did not see in me, Paul did.  And, he made those things count.  Christmas was a time for Niki to construct some of the best meals and parties that I had ever been to, and it was tremendous.  Niki is still one of my best friends.

So that is me on Christmas.  An Iowan who got to settle in Massachusetts and enjoy himself tremendously.  A school Superintendent’s kid who got to accompany Paul Tsongas to the Capitol building in Washington, D.C. and meet the many guards who Paul would later befriend because they were good people and they protected their many Senators.  A teacher who enjoyed tremendously his teaching and his summers on Cape Cod.  There, Paul was himself and he told me a great many things about myself that could not be blown off.  I have, like Jimmy Stewart, had a wonderful life and I have enjoyed it tremendously.  And I remember well the day that I answered the Cape Cod telephone and a voice said, “Is Paul there, this is Bobby Orr.”  Life is sweet.



Cutting the Contract of Salah K

I am  back.    I took a month off to refresh my internal batteries.  I have 560,4200  replies to my blog, quite an accomplishment given that I blog on the condition  of the  Lowell Public School system in its early  days.  I think that it’s nostalgic for some readers.  It is for me  too.

Anyway,  it is  nice being read.  Google tells me  that I have been read by a million people and they raised my  blogging  fee.  So much for success.

My focus this week is on cutting the contract for the Superintendent.  In my opinion, he was a   breath of fresh air in the system in which he was the Superintendent.   It is older news now, and I have covered it so why continue to pursue it?  Because he was, I believe, summarily discharged without a hearing.   Now he has sued and he, I feel, has a chance to collect from a school system  that is in the red.  I cannot blame Salah Khelfaoui for protecting his legacy.  As I have stated before, he was not a high finance Superintendent.  He was a one-on-one Superintendent who worried about the curriculum maybe more than the finances.  The board took his job without worrying about what he was here for, and who he was going to help.  He was treated badly.  I can openly state that he told me that he would sue if he was released by this School Committee.  I had issues with Superintendent Khelfaoui, it was not all golden, but my problems pale in comparison to what was handed to him.  Visions of King Herod ordering Saint John the Baptist’s head come to mind.  The School Committee tried to get his side of the story, but only after he was released.

There are a few problems here.  The School Committee failed to see how degrading their methods were so he felt, I believe, that he had no options left – he had to go to court to clear his name.  His replacement cannot be the result of a national search because of the type of job he had.  He was protected by a contract, he had just gone through a review and was given good grades by the persons who voted to let him go.  Superintendents are an interesting bunch, it was my father’s job and there are few who can be a Superintendent without flinching.  No current Superintendent wants to go to a city which just ran their current superintendent out of town on a rail.  No good superintendent wants to go to a city which offered a contract, broke it, and stopped continued employment.  If we knew that about a business position, it would be difficult to find a replacement even in the business world.  In the world of American education, it is even more difficult.

So, no superintendent worth his salt wants to go to a district that did not honor their contract.  They would rightfully think that what the “Fab Four” did was going to happen to her or him.  Those people are the ones who pushed the Superintendent away.  They  include the only two women who  both voted to let the Superintendent go.  There are only two women on the School Committee and they voted to release the Superintendent.  In my opinion, both of them lowered their special status when they voted to fire the Superintendent.

As I said, I had an-on again off-again relationship with the Superintendent.  But overall, I had a very good relationship with this man.  He was the star of the “Superintendent’s Sessions” on my show, “Peters’ Principles.”  The four people on the School Committee were welcomed to go on the show.  They knew that because they had been, at one time or another, guests on the television show.  Not one of those people came to, or called, to get on the show with the Superintendent.  One person said that she was not officially invited.  Everyone was invited.  There was a dearth of people wanting to get to the Superintendent through the show.   Not one School Committee member called to challenge something that the Superintendent said on the show.  And, they knew that they were definitely invited on the monthly show.

All of them had open access to the show and could have started a lively discussion with the Superintendent over any issue.  My belief is if they had used that medium, some of the bitterness would have been left in the world of television and perhaps this could have been handled.

Anyway, it is my belief that we are at a point where there is a crack in the wall, as in that nursery school story about the boy who stuck his thumb in the wall to hold back the sea; or more recently, the way that the Berlin Wall came tumbling down after Lech Walesa had stood up for his  country.  This is a major mistake, and Lowell looks bad, I think.  We can take care of the image by hiring the current interim superintendent, Jeanine Durkin.  But only if she wants it.  This overshoots our academic prowess and the efforts we have made to get good principals in the schools.   We need to stop, look around, and realize that in the 1800’s and 1900’s we made the Lowell School Department the “center of the (educational) universe.”  We have the best teachers, and the best support staff in the Commonwealth.  We normally have about ninety things interceding on the path we are walking.  But, I have never seen, and I see it everyday, any faculty more attuned to doing well.  Give us a good superintendent, like  Dr. Durkin, and they will give us their best effort.  Before all of this happened, we were getting higher MCAS scores, happier kids, and professional personnel.  Let us get over this quickly, and continue on with the greatness of Lowell’s  schools.  In the past students left the suburbs  and paid to go to Lowell High School.  Let’s acheive greatness again.  It is Lowell’s responsibility and even a duty.  And let us get Dr. Khelfaoui straightened out.   I can tell you that he is basically a very good  man.

Searching for a Theme

Sometimes you write a blog without a theme.  It just becomes a jumble of ideas going east or west, north or south.  For today, I borrowed from Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Henry Gabriel.  Thoreau was obviously trying to get free of a potential romantic tryst when he wrote, “I confess that I am lacking a sense, perchance, in this respect,  I  derive no pleasure from talking with a young woman half an hour simply because she has regular features.”  Journal.  I do not really get the point because I spent hours trying to get my wife to talk to me for an equal amount of time and I greatly enjoyed the effort.   I also do  not believe that my wife has “regular features.”  So maybe there is something to his disfavor.

I  noticed on television that Wells Fargo is crediting itself with giving loans at the turn of the century, in the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco, without worrying about credit information, saying that they do it today.  I  have my doubts about that.  And Mr. Gabriel says, “As time passed, and the farmers of the frontier could not liquidate the mortgages on their holdings, they saw in the money lender a dangerous enemy.  “Wall Street” became in the 1880’s a name describing an ogre.”  (American Democratic Thought, Ralph Henry Gabriel, Yale University, The Ronald Press Company of New York).  Current farmers would probably agree with that statement.

I have been working on my book on the History of the Lowell, MA. School System.  I have some new entries.  They are, but are not complete, involving the period in the 1900’s from 1900 to 1930.  The school system was older then.  And the older system did not respond to changes in curriculum and direction as quickly as Theodore Edson’s School Committees did.  Here are some of the listed new changes.

These events happened during the presidency of Theodore Roosevelt.  In 1900 they made the District Music Teacher permanent position at $1,200.00 per year for the entire district.  It was a large district so this was quite an accomplishment if the man could actually do the job.  It was also found that the Middlesex Village School, a school I toured as a college student, needed more rooms.    The school was torn down in the 1980’s.  They referred  this action to the Committee on Teachers to see if they could afford the upgrade.  It was deemed necessary by the district.

A student overflow went into the “jewel’ at the Varnum School in Centralville.  Lowell High School was too small for its student population and its 1893 building would be supplemented by building its 1922 building on that schedule.

The Committee on Teachers was  pretty busy.  It was given the power to take disciplinary action to deal with 262 cases of teacher tardinesses.  Going back a bit, on 2/24/96 School Committeeman Mulligan was late for the February meeting and they had to wait for him.  In the meantime, 200 Greek citizens and 30 French girls asked for the Massachusetts Evening School to be extended by one month.  The request does not say why but the request “could not be granted.”

On March 5, 1896, Mr. Greenhalge, who had given so much of himself to the school district, was honored as a School Committee member, State Representative, Mayor of the Strong Mayor type, Congressman, and Governor of the State of Massachusetts.  That made two members of the early class Governors of the State.  The other was the unpopular Benjamin Butler.  Mr. Greenhalge was remembered in the Minutes and a new school was named for him.  The School Committee sent a message to the family.   It said, “To the family of the deceased we extend our heartfelt sympathy.”  On 3/5/1896 they voted to attend the funeral as a School Committee.  It kind of resembles the passing of Mrs. Kathryn Stoklosa, who was warmly remembered at the time of her passing.

The Carney Medals were given to the people listed below:

James Bruce Gilman, Guy Henry Richardson, Horace Roswell Edwards, Sally Ardelle Burgess, Bertha Monroe Allen, and Olivia Catherine Mahoney.  All received the award which cited the efforts of the woman in the graduating class.  This was at a time when no woman could vote, or exercise what we might call “citizenship activities.”  The rules were laid down by the Donor of the Medal Fund.

The school district contained 13,419 children between five and fifteen years of age.  There were 3,048 students in the rest of the district, including the high school.  Two parents were in the Police Court for “failure to educate your children.”

In addition, the School Committee handled the U.S. Census  for 1900.  Dr. Kelley was Superintendent.  Fishers was reintroduced and accepted.

So, this is where the school department was coming from in 1900.  The schools were active, and new.  The jewels of the system included the Bartlett, Moody, Varnum, and Butler schools.  Next time we will discuss other schools built in this time period like the Aiken Avenue School.

Meanderings for 10/01/18

Sometimes I  believe that it is amazing how much I have changed over the years.  When I was eighteen I put into my lexicon, not knowing that Mark Twain had done the same, the idea that I once knew the answers to all of earth’s answers, but at my current age of sixty four I did not know the questions anymore.  That still holds true, evenmoreso because I continually learn more information and the questions are not so obvious.  I believed, at eighteen, that the United States had one language, that being English.  I did not pay attention to all of the other languages spoken in the United States.  Just a couple or a few of those were Spanish, French, Greek, Farsi, and the languages my direct ancestors spoke.  I know now that the English part is somewhat picayune.  Hordes of people, some who are immigrants, and some, like those from Puerto Rico (Teddy Roosevelt called it Porto Rico), were United States citizens.  It amazes me how unfavorably we view Hispanic American citizens,  after all, Desi Arnaz, Lucy’s husband, spoke with a marked accent.

Now, over the course of the past few years, I have had cancer.  One of the types I had was nonHodgekins Lymphoma, the type that incapacitated by brother-in-law, Paul Tsongas.  I have also had colon cancer, and skin cancer.   I have undergone an incredible amount of chemotherapy, surgery, and even spraying my skin with liquid nitrogen to remove the skin cancer.  That was the easiest one.  Discussing my health is not a movement to me.  It is just something that I have had.  It probably is not what is going to kill me, I give that to my tendency to use warfarin to maintain control of my body’s general capacity to make fatty deposits in my blood cells, giving rise to pulmonary embolisms, what my EMT son calls “widow-makers.”

I suffered from severe depression and other psychiatric diseases.  I do not belong to any society’s that juxtaposition myself to fit into groups that study my many mental diseases.  So  cannot complain that I am manic-depressive or bipolar.  I cannot complain even about my Parkinsons.  I have it but it is under control.   In the case of the cancer, it is just cancer.  I know about it and lend myself to the people who will extricate it from me, I hope.  In the case of the pulmonary embolisms, I have had five of them, and that is the scariest thing that is currently coursing through me.  You would rather not have it, but it is part of my make up and I have to learn to deal with it.  While you cannot complain, maybe this blog is my way of doing so.  If so, more power to me.

Overall, my life is very good.  A cancer that starts with the prefix “non” as in is not, cannot be good.  But I try to deal with it.  Paul died of its complications over twenty years ago, but not until he had served in the United States Congress, the U.S. Senate, and a run for the Presidency.  Paul missed so much.  He never saw the Red Sox win the World Series, and he never met his grandchildren.  He has three.  He would have loved them.  As part of my life being good, I try not to discuss my illnesses, but I finally wanted to discuss them.  Thus you have this piece of prose.

Anyway, life is unbelievable.  When I think back on my childhood, I cannot believe that I was born in Iowa in a small town, only to be living in a mid-size city now.  I would never have guessed that the U.S. Senate had a small subway connecting the various Senate buildings, or that the Security Guards learned the identity of the newly elected Senators immediately after their election.  But they do.  Or that I could get my brother-in-law to visit Dyersville, Iowa, the home of the “Field of Dreams.”  “Is this heaven?” asks an actor, “No it’s Iowa” states Kevin Costner.  “It seems like heaven.” the actor responds,  It was a neat thing,  getting Paul Tsongas to go to Iowa just to see the Field of Dreams.

So where am I going with this?  Well not far.  I have talked about some of my illnesses but left out the big ones.  That conversation would be boring and between God and I, I think.  I have five different diseases that could have killed my years ago, but I seldomly think of them.  They have no business in me.  I guess I am just meandering, hence the title.  I once had a lethal blood disease but beat it.  It could have easily killed me but for some God-known reason it did not.  After that one my wife told me I have an angel on my shoulder.  That may explain my luck.

I have heart disease with the inevitable “heart attack.”  Another heart disease that was supposed to kill me was cardiomyopathy.  That was supposed to render my heart  useless after five years,  I ignored that one too.  The heart attack was interesting in that my cardiovascular doctors met me in the hospital room and prescribed me an aspirin a day,  But not the 84 miligram one, the 300 plus miligram one.  They felt that one would provide more protection.

Well, I never know where my meanderings are going to place me.  I told more about myself than I ever thought I would.  Sorry for any inconvenience I might have caused.  See you next time.

The Keystone Kops Take Over the Schools

The shadows are opening up a bit.  Because of Dr. Khelfaoui’s willingness to forward information, some of the information is falling into good hands.  Keep in mind that the main joke was that of Mayor Samaras.  He said, according to the newspaper, that “We don’t know what monies we have, period.”  Now, it seems to me that the first thing you would want to know in a coup, bloodless though it is, is where the money is, where does it lie.  Apparently that question did not permeate anyone’s head in the coup.  You have taken over a school district, and you should be able to get your hands over the money.  That apparently was not the case.

The four perpetrators also forgot where the uncertainties lie.  Just for the record, the uncertainities lie with those four.  Jackie Doherty, Bill Samaras, Gerald Nutter, and Connie  Martin were the runners in this sordid race and they should take the reins for its direction.  From a mathematics standpoint, we went into this role without the two people who understood where the money was, or let’s say might be, when we accepted the resignation of Gary Frisch, the operations manager, and Dr. Salah Khelfaou, the forward-thinking Superintendent for this difficult moment. At least we could have had the two people who knew where the funds were.  That would have been  a huge help.

So, where am I going with this?  Right back to the plan to paint the Superintendent as a financial nitwit, which seemed to be the direction that the perpetrators were taking.  Having the votes does not mean that all of your questions, such as where the money was, have been solved.  Hopefully the fabulous four can explain where the money was, and how much was there.  If they cannot, then they deserve getting what’s coming to them, up to and including a recall vote.

It is amazing that this group of people could see this as a positive move.  In the first place the MCAS scores are good.  One third of the city schools are testing in the top third of the scale.   One third of our students are in the middle third.  And Lowell High School appears to be moving up to the second tier.  Literally, all of our schools are at the point where they could be testing competitively.

The other abnormality is the high school project.  It seems to me that the Keystone Kops probably knew that the high school would be the stumbling block in this charade.  We cannot take a stand that  is going to make it more difficult to get the high school built.  But that is exactly what happened.    Imagine the response by the state when this remarkably thin-skinned movement permeated the Boston “Globe” and the “Herald.”  I would not want to be on the explaining end of this game court.  Maybe, just maybe Boston saw this as a local matter.  I doubt it but it might have happened.  We had better get our act together fairly quickly to quiet criticism.  Lowell has to look cohesive, something that the city currently is not.  So let’s get our act together, let’s be cohesive, and let us see how broken down we seem to be.    Hopefully not too broken down.

Lowell’s School District Takes a Hit

The past two weeks have been rather Hellish in our educationally historic town of Lowell, Massachusetts.  Some politicians made a change that I believe was set by politics, not education.  They fired the Superintendent.  There were the usual reasons, like “he does not report to the School Committee if he needs some type of change.”  There were a number of people who spoke on his behalf, in fact no person spoke against him.  He had the parents of educationally challenged students speak,  and he had the town’s higher class speak on his behalf, too.  It came  to naught, through an angle legal in  Robert’s Rules of Order.  The School Committee attacked the Superintendent’s handling of the budget and on a slim majority, carried their day by a vote against the Superintendent of 4 to 3.  A four was to send the Superintendent packing, a three was not enough to overcome the four.  Obviously, these four persons acted in conjunction with one another.  When the fourth vote was called a loud voice said, “See you later, Bill.”  The persons firing the Superintendent continuously used the phrase, “for just cause.”  There was no just cause here, just politics.

I made a note to myself that day that there was no just cause.  A simple fourth vote, given by the Mayor who always starts his statement with “In my x amount of years in education,”  My father appointed him to first administrative position, and when he was alive he told me that had been one of a handful of mistakes.  The Mayor  managed to open up the historical perspective without actually  capturing the history  of the school system.  I intend to find my father at fault in this matter,  but I have to pray to him first.  He passed away five years ago.

Anyway my father was the last man who lost his Superintendency in Lowell.  Losing a superintendency is like taking a full  hit to the gut.  You never get past it.  My father went onto other pursuits but there is nothing like the thrill of being the head of a school system.  There is an electricity to it.  There is a light to it.  It totally occupies your time.  You are literally in charge of thirty thousand children.

Someone in the outer limits of that feeling asked what it must feel like.  I graduated high school the year that my father was denied tenure and you are so full of uncertainties, that you begin to believe those lies the politicians are aiming at you.  They are mistaken, of course.  One person asked me if you could compare what he deemed to be the uncomparable dismissed Superintendent with any others who had the same type of resonance in their repertoire.  Could we get, and could we keep a man who genuinely loves the position.  Had we ever had anyone like the dismissed Superintendent?   I had to say that the answer was yes we had.  My father woke up in the morning embracing school.  In that way he was like the superintendent.  Dr. Khelfaoui faced  every day like it was a challenge.  My father faced everyday in Lowell as if it was a challenge.  In that way the two were alike.  It was not uncommon to see Dr. Khelfaoui visiting the Sullivan School at all times of the day.

In that way, he was like my father.  In energy he was like my father.  Perhaps he had more of a problem with budgets, but his strength was in his treatment of each school, each teacher, and each student.  We have a School Committee that is divided.  Seldomly will they find a Superintendent like this.  He invited me into his office once a month to televise the “Superintendent’s Sessions.”  During all of those meetings  the School Committee and staff were open to participating.  In twenty four sessions not one complaint against the Superintendent was made on television.  If Connie Martin and Jackie Doherty had a problem, don’t you think it was the majic of television that they should have grasped and sat in one of those twenty four shows to lodge complaints against the Superintendent?  They knew about the show, they had been on it repeatedly.  They could have been welcome in the show.  Not one person in the School Committee asked to be on in order to ask questions of the Superintendent.  So, Gerald Nutter, William Samaras, Connie Martin, and Jaqueline Doherty missed the ship.  I would say they missed the boat but this one was so big, it literally would have been a ship.  Think about it, twenty four shows, not one complaint, but this man was to be released.  I hope we get a good School Committee next time.  Politics is no game for the students, or the “kids.”

My father stayed in Lowell and ran for School Committee two years later.  He beat his nearest competitor by over 9,000 votes.  That means that over 9,000 people “bulleted” on the School Committee.  It was the most commanding lead in the history of Plan E politics.  Dad got the city to vote him in and show how loved he was by the lead he received.  Salah Khelfaoui will never get that opportunity.  The School Committee knew when it hired him that he was a resident of Chelmsford.  But, I would bet that he is open to as good a run as my father had.  Show them what direction you are coming from by voting against the four who used Robert’s Rules of Order to throw out  a total gentleman.


Writing Is A Major Acheivement

I decided that I needed to write a bit about some aspect of my observations and life in order to prove that I am still am around.  So, this is it.   I was slated for a long-awaited trip to Iowa recently, but, on Doctor’s orders, I could not go in my desired method of travel, which was a  car.  I have a hardening of the artery disease that keeps me from spending long periods sitting in the fear that I will have a pulmonary embolism, which kills you in 67% of the attacks.  So that way was out of the picture.  So, they felt, it was too dangerous to drive.  Thus, here I am, attempting to sound out my frustrations in my blog, which still is

On my desk, I have a picture of my brother-in-law, Paul Tsongas, former U.S. Senator and part-time Democratic Presidential Democratic frontrunner in 1992, who is most famous as the first person to win the New Hampshire Democratic Primary and the first person to not win the Democratic nomination.  He was a victim of Clinton’s not being conciliatory but being the “Comeback Kid.”  George Stephanopoulos got his job with Clinton to offset, I believe, Paul’s having a Greek name.  I may be wrong about that, but I do not believe that I am.  Anyway, I have a picture of my brother-in-law Paul Tsongas on my desk.  In it he is announcing his run for the presidency.  His hands are outstretched and he is smiling.  It was a difficult campaign but he had a number of “moments.”

This announcement was one such moment.  Its memory will never be taken away from me.  Another big find, or moment, was finding a detiled artistic poster labeled 1984.  In that poster, Paul is shown kissing babies, scaling Mount Washington, testing the waters with an outstretched toe.  They are well made cartoon characters.  The year on the poster, 1984 intimates the year that he wanted to run.  He was ready to run against Ronald Reagan, which unfortunately he could not do at that time becuse he was diagnosed with NonHodgekins lymphoma.  Cancer, of a significant nature.  He got so angry when Nick Rizzo, a puzzling man who leaked the cancer story to the press.  The Boston “Herald” wrote an inflammatory headline in the newspaper the next morning, which was “Cancer Forces Tsongas Out.”  The cancer was invasive.  We, my wife and I and Vicki and Paul’s sister, Thaliea, met with Paul at Thaliea’s house.  Vicki and Thaliea were lost in sorrow and fear for the future.  Paul had to give up his plan to run for President against Ronald Reagan.  I believed that Paul could defeat any Republican because he had defeated Senator Ed Brooke.  When someone asked Paul how it felt to defeat the Senate’s only African American Republican Senator, Paul said something along the lines of

“I thought that we were beyond such paternalism.”  Paul’s decision to run for the Senate was based on the Democrat vs. Republican struggle, not the paternalism of a racial definition.  Ed Brooke ended up being in a messy divorce from his long-time wife, and his marriage disintegrated.  But I don’t believe that is the reason that he lost.  He just ran into a determined Paul Tsongas.

It was a mess but it, and I, had my moments.  And, it had its moments.  I remember my getting out of the car at my train station on the Orange Line of the Subway system, and, when I tracked down the overly loud voice at the station, I stood behind Ed Brooke bellowing his greeting and message.  I asked the four Tsongas people to funnel people getting off of the buses  through to me.  I asked them to simply say that they could meet Jim  Peters, Paul’s brother-in-law, in the new line.  They did, and it worked!  We grabbed the crowd and turned a catastrophe into a triumph.  Brooke lost his line of people and I picked it up.  Brooke left, dejectedly, I thought.  It will always be my high point in the Senate campaign.  I thought it was marvelous.  I am fairly sure that Ed Brooke did not see it that way.  I never told Paul about it.

Later, on that day, I worked the crowds at Boston Common, in the shadow of the  State House.  I worked very hard.  the Volunteer who accompanied me marveled at my handshaking technique.  I shook hands with everyone I saw, saying the mouthful, “Please vote for my brother-in-law, Paul Tsongas, for U.S. Senate.”  The specter of beating the only African-American in the U.S. Senate hurt us in the presidential race.  I have mentioned that our problem was the African American communities in and around Chicago.  I was sent to Chicago because, I often said, I grew up in Iowa and the south side of Harvey, Illinois.   I was mentioned in the newspaper.  It was nice.  One man, who was heavily with us one weekend, was against us the next.  I asked him what had changed him.  “Quite honestly,” he said, “the Clinton people hired me as an aide.”  He was paid, he said, and he changed his allegiance.  I was not pleased, but I was not surprised either.

I went to a Baptist minister’s meeting and started to give a speech.  I was shocked to see my right hand shaking violently.  I excused myself and said that I would speak off the cuff.  One minister said, “Thank God, brother.”  I told a story about Paul in the Peace Corps.  It was well-received, and three older ministers made the 90 mile trip to the main airport the next day to thank Paul for his sacrifices made in the Peace Corps.

I do not know about the Clinton story passed on by that nameless aide.  It could have been made up.  But, it just showed me how determined the Clinton machine was to win.

I have a major in Political Science, and I see it as a science, not an art.  When I was getting to know Paul, I repeatedly asked him about small decisions that played well in the press.  His reply was always the same, ‘I was lucky.’  It was his favorite reason for his success.  When he was running for President, he told me that he was a Greek American  running for the office.  He said, he felt, he had no chance.  I just saw the man who had been in twelve primary and final elections and never lost one.  That luck did not stay with us during the presidential elections.  Paul called me on Super Tuesday and said,

“Well, I lost Illinois and Florida, but you won Massachusetts and Maryland.  How did that happen?”  I did not know.  I told him I was lucky.  He laughed and hung up.  The Presidential run ended with a hard ball finish.  Clinton called Paul and told him, while I was sitting there, that he was not going to be able to speak to his supporters at the Convention.  Paul replied something like this, as I recall,

“Governor,” he said, “if I do not get a chance to speak then I will ask for a simple roll call.  I will activate my delegates and you will be pushed to the second ballot on the second day.”  Clinton, facing a loss of his first ballot desire, acquiesed.  Paul got his chance to speak, and Vicki and I watched on television.  As I said, in the beginning he asked me if he could win and I pointed to Michael Dukakis’ disappointing finish.  I still told him that I felt that he could win.

“That’s because you are my brother-in-law,” he said.  That was probably right.  I felt, however, that he could do anything on which he set his sight.

That is my story of Paul and the election.  Life with Paul Tsongas was exciting, it was brisk, and many other stories have never been told.  Perhaps, some day, they will be.  The life of my diminutive brother-in-law may well be told.  We shall see, I guess.  Paul was the most interesting man I ever met, and I cannot believe what he was able to accomplish in a short period of time.  If he had been able to run against Ronald Reagan, he just might have won.  I know the odds, but I would bet on it.

I do have a funny story.  Paul was extremely competitive, and he asked me about places in Iowa.  I told him that he should visit Dyersville (if that is the way you spell it).  That is where they filmed “The Field of Dreams.”  That was a movie about a kind of spiritual awakening center around Iowa and its mysticism.  The main character, played by Kevin Costner, builds a baseball field in his corn field.  He is laughed at.  But his dreams pay off.  He meets interesting baseball players, long dead.  He is asked by the one of them who was his father, “Is this heaven?”

“No, it’s Iowa.” he replies.

He responds that way a few times in the movie.  I told Paul that if he wanted to see the real Iowa, he had to go to that field.  So, he did.  He  hit a homerun that split the seams of the threads on the ball he had hit.  He was very pleased with the experience.  So, my final point is, that if I did anything to help Paul out, it was to send him to the Field of Dreams.  He came in second in the Democratic caucuses in Iowa.  Maybe, just maybe, it came about because I told him that he had to go there.  Playing baseball there was his desire and determination.  I was just the dreamer.

Copyright by James A. Peters

Talent Scout or Something Else?


After all of the commotion on the topic, I have to say that I was thinking about Donald Trump’s problems with Stormy Daniels as I was shaving a couple of days ago.  I believe my most reasonable thoughts come to me when I am shaving, much as Jack London, the writer of classic literature, did when he was shaving.  He posted twenty new words daily, taped them on his shaving mirror, and learned them to increase his writing abilities.

When it comes to Donald Trump, it occurs to me that the real question is not, “Did he pay for a Porn Star?” but rather “What was he doing with a Porn Star anyway?”    I could think of no married man who could go to their wives and say, “I  went out with a Porn Star,” and survive the indiscretion.

The question in the Stormy Daniel’s case was not “What did you pay her,” but “Why would you jeopardize your marriage by going out with one anyway?”  Having your picture taken with one raises the question, “How good is this man’s inner character and judgement?” Another obvious question is “What is his moral compass?”  Most men I know would not approach a Stormy Daniels, let alone having his picture taken with one.  You realize that you could end your marriage.  I consider myself as very stable but that behavior would surely end my marriage.

So what kind of man smoozes with a known porn star?  An incredibly unstable one who wants to have sex and get out quickly.  And, what kind of man has his picture taken with a known porn star?  In my opinion, one who has little or no appreciation for his wife.  Forget the “did they have sex?” part?  There are parellels to Clinton.  But not exactly.  Like Clinton, you can forget the answer to that question.  Clinton even had DNA testing that proved it was him.  The answer to that question is History.  As stated, the question is “What kind of man wants to meet a porn star” and “What kind of man would allow his photo to be taken with her?”

So Donald Trump jeopardizes his marriage, takes a risk of getting a number of diseases,  including HIV/AIDS, spends his time with a woman who is in character as a person who practices the oldest profession, and generally handles everything incorrectly.  I saw a movie which stated that children are inclined to become liars early, even in the crib, where they call Mom or Dad to feed them by emitting a specific cry when they want to eat but are not necessarily hungry.  I do not know who came up with this theory, but it  was stated factually in a movie geared towards young children.  Lying is something we all do, but most of us do not admit doing.  In my opinion, Donald Trump must have learned that practice early and often.

At some point in this search for Donald Trump’s soul, it must be stated that the man is also just lucky.  After all, he did become President.  That does not increase his credibility however.  The question arises,

“Should this man be President?”

My wife and I would both say, “Not on your life.”   He has no sense of moral character.  Do not give me the tired and old stories about JFK, because few if any of those stories stood the test of time.  If Kennedy did do one half of what legend has him doing he would have had no time to be President.  Add to that his Addison’s Disease, his use of Doctor prescribed amphetamines, and his general poor health, and he just does not measure up to Donald Trump’s stature as a man guided throughout his life with his sexual drive,  “Locker room talk,” or not.

James Comey said in his interview that the President should be impeached on moral grounds.  Now, I do not care for James Comey because he cost the Democrats the win in the weeks before the election.  The Constitution states in Article 2, Section 4, that the President or Vice President “…shall be removed from office”…or “…Impeachment for and conviction of Treason, Bribery, or other High Crimes and Misdemeanors.”  Morality does not factor into our reasons for a successful impeachment based on those high moral grounds cited by James Comey.   You might think that he would know that.

Finally, this is our folly,  We allowed the high office of the Presidency to be occupied by a buffoon,  If he does get concessions from Korea, and it looks like he might,  it partially came about because he threatened a nuclear war.  If the tariff is in place but our debts do not diminish, then we are the buffoons.  I told people for over twenty years that we needed higher tariffs.  They, many of them, thought I was woefully short regarding my wits.  Now they are praising Trump for saying something I have said for over twenty years,  Maybe Trump read my early blogs;  I doubt it but it might have happened.

That is the extent of my thoughts on Donald Trump.  I hope, if he reluctantly sees the problems associated with having a relationship with a Porn Star, or getting your picture taken with one, that he changes his style now that he is solidly into his first four years.  Straightening out all of these character flaws is the least he can do for the Presidency.  And, let’s cut the “Tweets.”  They worked but now they just hamper him.  They were his “Fireside Chats,” as Roosevelt’s times with the media were called.  FDR used the radio, DJT uses the on-line computer.  The radio was a better medium.

Copyright by James A. Peters

The Lowell School System – 1870 to 1899

It must be observed that the Lowell school system was at its best during this time period.  Changes were being handled with an adroit hand.  City fathers were going on a building program, building the 1893 Lowell High School on Kirk Street, which is an anomaly because the person most angry about the need for a school system was Kirk Boott so it is strange that we put it on his street.  He even sent a message to the head of the St. Anne’s Church, his church, that education, “Could not and would not be done.”  (1893 – History of Lowell)  “Mr. Boott informed Mr. Edson that any further advocacy of this proposition would so far meet with  his disapprobation (permission) that he should withdraw from his church and from attendance upon his ministration; that he should give his attendance and influence to another religious society and that all support of St. Anne’s in any way by the manufacturing companies would be withdrawn.”  He was not joking.

Dr. Edson, “single-handily” carried the vote on the issue  by the public by eleven votes.  (ibid.)  A second vote was called for by those desiring to kill education in Lowell, and they lost again, this time by thirty-eight.  One man, heavily on the side of the Kirk Boott sympathizers told Dr. Edson that “Well, you have got your schoolhouses, but you will never get the children into them.”  That man changed his mind later and became a strong supporter of public education.

It is necessary to say that the Lowell mills, those mills owned by supporters of the original design in the Merrimack Mills, voted to have a brick school house built as part of the mill buildings on that site.  They vehemently disagreed with Mr. Boott and his friends.  They did not pull their support of St. Anne’s either, even when Dr. Edson became the head of the School Committee.  Dr. Edson held that post for decades.  Kirk Boott, in an ironic twist, died while passing St. Anne’s  door.  He stood up with his fist raised towards the church in defiance and died of an aneurysm while standing in defiance of the church in his horse-drawn chaisse.  He fell onto the mud on the ground.  He  had refused to be buried in Lowell and rests in Charlestown, Massachusetts.

So Lowell had its brick schoolhouses, its strong citizen-backed school department, and began its history of school spending.  “The town voted an appropriation of $20,000.00 to defray the expense of building two schoolhouses and the purchase of building sites.”  The Edson and Bartlett schools had a place to educate.  An Englishman of the time stated “There is another personage, a personage less imposing, in the eyes of some perhaps insignificant.  The schoolmaster is abroad, and I trust to him armed with primer, against the soldier in full military array.” (ibid, Speech Given in 1828 in England by Lord Brougham).

I have witnessed many teachers plying their trade, and I would have to agree.  The teacher has more influence than a soldier, even if the soldier is dressed for battle.  Both have their duties, but education has a continuing part to play even when a nation is at peace.  No one denigrates the soldier, it is just a simple fact.  We remember our education perhaps as much, if not more, than we would remember military service.  That is not to put military service down, it is just a measurement.

Education in Lowell started in 1826, the year that the town incorporated.  It had two small schools in the confines of the Town of Chelmsford.  Those were muted by the schools mentioned previously.  Those were in  Lowell.

We have a complete list of the curriculum in the schools by 1890.  Some of those books will be mentioned below.  It is necessary to say once again that the high school was not started in 1831, but in 1834.  That is per the School Committee Minutes of 1834.  Lowell High School had not made its appearance yet.  When it did, it was the first public school to  start  an academic contest open to a contest in academics for both boys and girls.  These were  the Carney Medals.  It was also a school that charged tuition for surrounding towns who wanted to send their students,  “Scholars,”  to the newly minted school.  Few people could get a legitimate high school education in that rural time.  High School opened up doors like colleges do now.  A high school graduate could teach, hold important positions, and cede to the city or town it was located in,  cede its influence, primarily.

In fact, at that time, 7th. and 8th. grade graduates could teach school.  But married women could not.  No one wanted to have to explain to children what pregnancy was, or how it came about.  In my lifetime, people like Miss Rita Sullivan, my English teacher, stayed unmarried partially because at the time of their certification they could not get married.  No one wanted to explain childbirth to their students.  And no man, in this society where women did not have the vote yet, wanted to explain birth secrets to students.  It was a man’s world.

So what was the curriculum like in 1890?  Well, it was very like today’s Latin Lyceum.  The basics were there.  They learned Latin, French, and other Romance languages.  Specifically, LHS was wrapped in tradition.  There were fifty-nine books dedicated to teaching Romance languages, Sciences, and Mathematics.  I am not going to introduce all of those areas for this blog.  I will introduce some.

“Liddell and Scotts Greek Lexicon (abridged)”

“Bocher’s Otto’s Frence Grammar”

“Bocher’s Otto’s French Reader”

“Otto’s German Reader”

“Adler’s German Dictionary”

“Eaton’s Algebra”

“Lockwood’s Lessons in English Compositions”

“Davies’ Surveying”

“Class Book of Prose and Poetry”

“Scudder’s History of the United States”

“Leighton’s History of Rome”

“Cooley’s Natural Philosophy”

Other areas taught included Shakespeare, Geometry, Infantry Tactics, Civil Government, Histories of England, Rome, and Greece.  Other books included ones on American poems, making James Russell Lowell’s comment that people became famous for their poetry in the United States before their time.  Shakespeare was included in poetry books.  There were classes on book-keeping, and astronomy.  Grammar schools learned a great deal.  They included a child’s  book of United States History.

Well, it can be argued that we are not doing anything very different.  The subjects remain the same.  We still push for a Latin overview.  We still include poetry, stories, and histories.  I will write in the near future about the application of 1890’s curriculum.  It promises to be interesting.


Copyright by James A. Peters ISBN # attached

The World’s Best Philosophers and Other Mundane Items

I constantly tell my friends and readers, of which I have 432,000 responders, that my favorite quotes come from four or five sources.  These are:

Benjamin Franklin

Mark Twain

The Bible

Abraham Lincoln

and,      Shakespeare (although I use him a little more sparingly), I also like Mahatma Ghandi.

French philosopher Piaget stated that Ghandi and Christ were the only people to make it to seven on a scale where 7 is the highest you could get, and two or three was where most of the rest of us were situated.  So I make it a point to listen closely to the sermon given every Sunday and I read up on Hindu philosophy.

People like me, need to look up the philosophies of the greats in order to gain a sense of what is possible.  I was a little boy when John F. Kennedy was killed, but I do remember right where I was when I heard the news and I cried for years.  He would have handled our current malaise with wit and humor.  But, instead people make what I believe are mistaken comparisons between his time in office and Trump’s treatment of women.  At no time did Kennedy get caught in delicato.  If he did have affairs, they were not measurable to the degree that Trump has been openly accused of, not in the least.

   Shakespeare said, after a satisfying dinner, “I praise God for you Sir; your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious;  pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy,”  He apparently had dinner with the perfect dining companion.  Either way, he seemed deeply appreciative of his new friend’s mannerisms.  Would that we all could have such a dining companion.  Equally, would that we could have William Shakespeare to pass judgement.  

Lord Chesterfield wrote to his son, in some of the most quoted letters from parent to child, …”that the English crust of awkward bashfulness, shyness, and roughness…is pretty well rubbed off (as in it no longer is a problem).   I am most heartily glad of it; for, as I have often told you, …those lesser talents, of an engaging, insinuating manner, an easy good breeding, a genteel behaviour and address, are of infinitely more advantage than they are generally thought to be, especially here in England.”  Determination and my father is the gist of this article.

I have recently had an opportunity to go through my late father’s papers.  The more I read, the closer I get to education, as in the profession, the more I admire his tenacity.  I always knew that he thought he was right, but looking through these many reports and books,  he had reason to be proud of his Superintendency’s.  At a time, such as now, when we have many people working in the Head Office, he kept his staff in Lowell down to seven people, four of them Secretaries and Clerks.  He came to Lowell determined to not put the elderly school system in debt, beyond what he could master.  He used old schools, found 33 classrooms in tours of the old Lowell High School, and worked around some well-intentioned grants.  One of them was the grant that paid for Patrick Mogan to study the canal system.  I know this because I had the opportunity to work for a day with Peter Stamas and Patrick Mogan on the canal system.  It was Mogan’s idea.  It was the school department’s money.   My father said I would enjoy Mr. (not Dr. yet) Mogan’s style and I did.  Mr. Mogan had dreams for the canal city.  One that he stated to me was gondolas.  But he could not see how they would fit under the bridges.  So he wisely dropped that idea.

Patrick Mogan, the inspiration, had the canal system, all of it, set up on wooden platforms.  The water was blue paint.  The sides were white painted wooden panels.  Peter Stamas actively contributed to the conversation.  I do not believe I have ever had a better time than I did in the Smith/Baker Center where they had set up the system on the second floor in a hallway.  My father was determined to see that funding of the project stayed in the budget.  As far as I know, he wrote or oversaw the writing of the grant(s) himself.  So he proved he could be a dreamer.

In (The Commonwealth of Massachusetts/Department of Education – Lowell Public Schools, an Interim Report) written under the directives of Neil V. Sullivan, Commissioner of Education, the Commissioner stated that he was writing in response to a request of my father’s for additional information on a one-day visit on October 24, 1969, “this Department sent a team of Specialists to Lowell for a one day study,”  Dr. Peters openly asked for more information from the panel.  They “visited schools at all grade levels and talked to citizens, children, teachers, and administrators.”    The purpose was to determine where “the Department can best assist Lowell in meeting the challenge in the excellent report, “Agenda for Change” recently completed by Harvard University.”  Mr. or Dr. Sullivan says that “my staff are very impressed with the current determination of the citizens and school officials in Lowell to  implement change.” (Page One)

“It is apparent,” Dr. Sullivan stated, “that all responsible  elements of the Committee (the State Committee) are eager to assist you, your Staff, and the School Committee in your efforts to acheive equal educational opportunity for every child in Lowell.”  There was limited infighting.

“The Department of Education stands ready to join you in the tasks  that lie ahead.”  “I extend to you, Dr. Peters, and your fine staff my congratulations for the steps you have already taken on behalf of the children of Lowell.”  Thus did Dr. Sullivan close his letter.  He thought my father was a fine Superintendent.  A few years later, after he was denied tenure and ran for School Committee,  Wayne Peters won more than 5,000 votes ahead of his second-place finisher.  The 2nd. place went to Mrs. Stoklosa.  They became good friends,  His vote total was over 15,000 votes.

This may be  just the ramblings of his son, but I am the only son who went into education, and I was close to him throughout his tenure.  It is my feeling that he did a good job.  That he refused to bend to those who wanted to control him, and we almost had to leave Lowell rather than stay here. I have been here for forty-nine years, and in my case, fathered four children who had a hometown; something I never had because we moved so much.  I, as George Anthes continues to say, am still a “blow-in,” who has made Lowell his goal.

Hopefully, I am closer to the Shakespeare assessment than the Lord Chesterfield one.  I want to be that person, adroit, and stoical.  For me, the LHS election was historically perfect.  Hopefully, what we get out of it will be perfect.  Oh, and one other thing, my father would not have wasted money on building the 1980’s building.  He would have been on the construction site everyday he was Superintendent or School Committeeman.  He was the most tenacious man I knew.  He never understood politics, but he did fairly well with that medium.  This blog is written in order to let people know what he was like.  In Holbrook, MA, his next assignment, he was there for years, but he never moved out of Lowell until he retired to Florida.  Even then, he kept up with politics in Lowell.  He called me all of the time.

I wrote this because I am my father’s son.  Lowell is better off because he chose to live here.  He did not move out.  That was a miracle.  He moved many times as I was growing up.  From the safety  of Iowa to the tension  of Harvey, Illinois; to the relative safety of Lowell.  He thought that Lowell did not know what to do with him.  It made him a better person and helped him deal with the many people who supported him.  He even wrote a book about it.


Copyright by James A. Peters