“MSU SHADOWS”

 

A series of essays….

BERKEY HALL ON THE CAMPUS OF MSU

MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY STUDENT UNION 

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

The girl walks the beaten path to her 8 o’clock class with hands freezing in her purple knit gloves and her stockinged feet numb even after they’ve been stuffed into calf-high, leather boots. She’s thinking how winter term is often brutal, weather-wise, but to have scheduled an early morning French class across campus was absolutely unwise, practically verging on insane. 

She looks up from her strained cadence to see other students marching to the same, slow beat, making their way to classes scheduled far too early in the morning. Snow begins to fall softly, brushing her exposed face with its delicate chill and directing her to pick-up the pace. 

One more turn to the right and the building she’s seeking will pop into view. The young grad-student, Ms. Hamlin, teaching this class, has seen the girl arrive late for class way too often this term but is kind enough to understand the logistics involved. However, today the girl pulls open one of the large, wooden doors of Berkey Hall two minutes before the stroke of eight and briskly clomps her way down the marbled hall to her classroom, three doors down on the left. 

Little did she know then that several decades later, the dark, unimaginable fate of two students attending evening classes in this very same hall would lead to their cruel, unjustifiable deaths. Why would she believe that such a horrific act would even be possible? 

Heading west down E. Circle Drive to W. Circle Drive, the fourth building down from Berkey Hall, the MSU Union welcomes her students with open arms offering a respite from the elements with comfortable sitting areas, bookstore, food court, and so much more. Not a place you would expect to come face-to-face with a shooter bent on extinguishing young lives. Yet, one such life was snuffed out by this gunman on the cold, winter’s evening of February 13, 2023.

These older buildings that make-up the brick and mortar history of one of the largest and most beautiful self-contained college campuses in the United States are treasures to behold. From their classic stone-arched doorways, brick facades draped with green ivy, and varied peaks adorned with cozy looking dormers decorating the rooflines, their architecture rivals the beauty of anything we see today! 

I have always loved my time on campus. Our wedding photographers held a photo shoot with me at Beal Botanical Gardens next to the main campus library. These photos became my engagement pictures from nearly fifty years ago. Lots of history there. 

Having both attended MSU as undergraduate students, Dan and I have invested a good deal of time walking the sidewalks and small pathways that crisscross the entire campus. My favorite area being old campus with Beaumont Tower, the circle of older residence halls off Beal Street and Abbott Road, and the MSU museum where Dan donated his grandfather’s MAC (Michigan Agricultural College) baseball uniform from his time on campus back in the early 1900’s when he was an engineering student who graduated in the Class of 1913.

That same young lady who chastised herself for having to take such an early French Language class in Berkey Hall years ago certainly passed through the shadows of her future husband’s grandfather many times. Lancie W. Dunn’s campus spirit may have given her an encouraging push every now and then in order to get her to class on time. I’d like to think so, anyway. 

After the years progressed, Dan and I would find ourselves enjoying picnic lunches along the grounds surrounding Beaumont Tower as we watched our two young daughters play within the shadows of this inspiring structure. Blink—and we are tailgating with them before attending football games in Spartan Stadium or walking together, hand-in-hand towards Munn Ice Arena to watch the Spartans slide into yet another victory on the ice. 

I remember the Red Cedar River meandered along in my backyard while living in W. Shaw Hall for the first two years of my MSU career. How fortunate I was to live in such a centrally located dormitory on campus. It wasn’t until I moved out to Twyckingham Apartments located on S. Hagadorn Road on the extreme eastern edge of campus that I experienced class scheduling difficulties. An eight o’clock French class was the only time slot that happened to work with my class load that term! 

Following all of the time we spent on campus with our girls and all of the stories and good times we created throughout the years, it was inevitable that both girls attended and graduated from Michigan State University, their blood running green as it continues to do so today.

We are among the people who shiver in disbelief from the actions of this one man. Leaving five more students shot and in critical condition during his rampage through Berkey Hall and the Student Union, this coward of a man decides to walk off campus in the direction of Lansing. If it is true that he ended his own life when confronted by the authorities, his cowardliness reached its peak and so many now must suffer for it. 

Eight families, an entire campus of students, MSU faculty and administration, law enforcement and first responders, the City of East Lansing, the State of Michigan, the United States, the entire world…..suffer from this callous, horrendous act of violence.

I wish the past would invite me back to rectify a thing or two; disallow the existence of those who believe in the utter destructiveness of gun-power and how it is so necessary, in their feeble minds, to use it against their fellow humans. Sick. How important it is to make the changes necessary through legislation and to never misinterpret the words of the Second Amendment, again. 

In the meantime, may these student’s deaths help to serve a greater purpose and never be forgotten in the interim. DO NOT FORGET THEIR SACRIFICE!!! The news media has already shifted to many new stories about George Santos, a liar and unabashed cheater, with only a blip dedicated to the massacre on State’s campus this past Monday night. We cannot forget them and how this senseless act has effected all of us! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!! We must keep our focus on why these young lives were taken away from us and the changes we need to make in order to never repeat this heinous act.

Our hearts bleed green today…

In 1928, Bernard Traynor, a line coach for the football team, composed the music and lyrics, to MSU’s Alma Mater, MSU Shadows. On April 21, 1949, the students of MSC (Michigan State College, at that time) voted to adopt this song as their  Alma Mater.

MSU Shadows, Arranged by Joshua Davis

Lyrics: 

Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

FIREWORKS, SHIVERS, AND A LOST CELL PHONE

 

A series of essays….

AS BEAUTIFUL AS A MONET PAINTING

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

It was definitely a ‘Shake, Rattle, and Roll’ kind of weekend! Our nine-month-old Goldendoodle, Bree, finally learned the major downfall of having fireworks set-off so close to our house when the Kalamazoo Country Club sent-up another spectacular display last Friday. We have not had to worry about what fireworks can do to the stability of our pets for the past six years. And…

Bree’s reaction to them was a sad reminder of having our previous fur babies learn how to cope with the genuine fear felt after each volley assaulted their nervous systems and basic wellbeing.

KCC must have repositioned their base for shooting off these colorful, gun-powdered artillery shells to a spot much closer to our house. The gut-bomb after effects seemed to penetrate much deeper this year due to their proximity. Pushing framed photos back from the edge of shelves was the order of the evening after the entire house shook and rattled as if we were in the middle of a war zone.

Some dogs are truly immune to the thunder of fireworks. Hard to believe, I know. Our daughter’s dog, Oreo, could care less about constant shelling and ground tremors. Bree, we quickly learned, is a more typical “Get me out of here” kind of pet complete with a major case of the shivers and the desire to hide anywhere she can even if she has to dig her way to China! That’s, of course, where these mini-bombs come from in the first place. Full circle. Holding her tight seems to do the trick, but any sharp bang or loud cracking sound since then gives her pause. While lifting her nose high into the air, she always makes certain the coast is clear.

Our little test of Bree’s reaction to fireworks was a prelude to bringing her to our friend’s house on the lake this past Sunday where there was to be a firework display based on the small island not too far offshore. We left her in her calm place, her crate and comfy bed insert, up in the house until her life was quieter and we came back upstairs for the night. When checking-up on her half way through the performance, it was determined that she was doing alright while snuggled up in her small, dark sanctuary.

PAYTON AND BREE BEING
INTRODUCED FOR THEIR PLAY DATE

After enjoying a gourmet breakfast prepared by our illustrious hosts, we decided to take Bree to the campus of Michigan State University and walk her around the Lewis Landscape Arboretum, one of the notable gardens that MSU takes much deserved pride in. The sun shone brightly, the grass was green and lush, and the flowers were in full, colorful bloom! Still feeling some anxiety and fatigue from her romp with Payton, a Chocolate Labrador and our friends’ beautiful fur baby, she was more than ready to have some dinner, a drink of water, and stretch-out in the back seat for the car trip home.

Forty-five minutes from campus I searched for my phone to look at all of the pictures taken over the weekend. Shivering as sharp pains ran down my arms and legs, I realized it was nowhere to be found. Dan called it from his cell phone and heard it ringing—but, from somewhere other than inside our vehicle. Quickly, he hung up.

THE LAST PICTURE TAKEN BEFORE
LEAVING THE PARKING LOT

Okay, I remembered taking Bree’s picture in the garden. Don’t panic… I was seated on the bench of a picnic table. Don’t panic… Did I set the phone down beside me when Dan took her for a walk after eating? Please don’t panic and think! Yes! It has to be on the end of the bench!

I felt a little bit better having tucked this knowledge in the forefront of my mind while Dan was already navigating the ramp onto I-96 Eastbound, back towards campus. It was a long, shaky, stressful ride for me. I know it’s just a cell phone and nearly all of the information on it (pictures, especially) is stored in the cloud, anyway. But there’s something very primal and unrelenting about having an object so personal out of your grasp and control.

By this time, my mantra changed from don’t panic to just stay calm— along with a few prayers thrown in for good measure. If someone did see it and picked it up, I only hoped they would have put it back down with the idea that its owner would surely return for it, eventually. 

Turning into the parking lot located off of Service Road, my heart skipped a beat as we approached the picnic area. A tiny, dark green, rectangular object occupied the end of the bench right where I sat almost an hour and a half before. Being caught between the emotions of fear and joy, I gingerly drifted over to the table to claim my phone; genuine relief was written all over my face as I slipped it into my bag and neatly zipped it into the confines of its familiar spot.

GREEN SPACE ON THE CAMPUS OF
MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY 

Fortunately, Bree doesn’t seem to be bothered by a hearty thunder and lightning storm because we experienced several whoppers while attempting to sleep later that night. As I lay there watching the brilliant flashes and counting the seconds between them and the inevitable boom to follow, hearing not even the slightest whimper out of her, I reasoned that her personal fears stem from deep, primitive depths—just like my own. 

A rude introduction into the unknown became a powerful lesson in ‘we don’t know what we don’t know until we think we do.’ Bree’s nescience of human industrialisation (labeled good or bad) caused her to fear the world around her in the form of fireworks, even for a short period, and be able to recall that fear time and time again.

I would have gotten another phone, eventually, and life would proceed even after this major glitch of forgetfulness. But, deep inside, I believe both Bree and I experienced our own unique sense of loss; a belief that the world around us was, suddenly, shockingly our enemy and not the perfect world we were born into. It was as though a sliver of our soul had broken off and was being scattered into oblivion.

If shivering with sheer panic helped get us through it and into a better place, we must cope with our loss and learn to depend on ourselves and others to get us through the rough patches.

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

BREVITY: A SHORT BUT TRANSFORMATIVE YEAR IN A LIFE

 
A series of essays....

STUDENTS ENGAGED IN LEARNING, DECIPHERING,
AND, HOPEFULLY, TAKING AWAY A HIGHER-ORDER OF THINKING

    Courtesy, Linkedin Learning

....as seen through my eyes!

BY: JACQUELINE E. HUGHES

Creative writing classes were yet to be programmed into the curriculum of Indiana University in South Bend or the English Department of Michigan State University in East Lansing back in the day. So, I began my college career taking classes in journalism for one year at IUSB while living with my aunt and uncle before transferring to MSU with a major in English and Secondary Education. 

Journalism courses back in the late sixties were nothing short of eye opening for me in so many ways. Entering my freshman year at seventeen years of age and owning my first car should have been enough of a thrill for anyone to handle. However, couple that with my eight o’clock class professor nursing her newborn while sitting on the front edge of her desk and explaining the principles of the ‘Five W’s plus How’ and how they relate to basic information gathering and problem solving in journalism. The take-away was how comfortable she made me feel in my own skin and how she gave this seventeen-year-old female hope for an upward momentum in women’s rights and equality within a lingering man’s world.

Regrettably, women must continue to fight in 2019! Ridiculous!!! By now, I expected so much more for my own daughters, let alone for their daughters. To think that almost fifty-one years later, nursing your baby in public (even in a classroom when necessitated) remains controversial. If entrenchment in politics equals a large part of the answer, then fight on ladies all over this country! I will support you in every way I can. Especially by utilizing my right to vote for you if I feel you are the best person for the job.

Then there was the male professor who, literally, told us that if it takes the embellishment of a seemingly weak storyline to make it more interesting or attractive in order to sell more newspapers (the news) then, go for it! (“As long as you cover everyone's behind in every way you can.”) Thinking back, was this my personal landmark in the discovery of what was real and what we refer today as ‘fake news?’ To this day, I’m uncertain as to whether this was his own philosophy or that of journalism in general. I’d like to think it was his, alone. I may have been young at the time, but I knew right then that the ‘game’ associated with the press was not for me. 

Of course, this doesn’t mean that all good journalists fit into this category of creating a stronger story out of a weaker one. It just means that this particular professor felt it was alright to do so and was not afraid to teach this to his students.

After an enlightening year of journalism, theater classes, and (wishing I spoke my Ukrainian grandparent’s language fluently) a semi-decipherable class of Russian History taught by a distinguished, elderly Russian professor who spoke minimum and highly accented English, I transferred to MSU the following fall. 

Thinking back on my year spent living with relatives, driving my own car to classes and back home to Michigan to visit each weekend, and formulating my own ideas of what I expected from myself in the future, this time was, truly, my personal rite of passage. Writing, I knew then, would always be my vocation. Travel....sweet travel, would become my greatest passion. Combining the two has become my raison d’être. 

Little did I realize back then that photography would become so important in my life, as well. I guess this would stand to reason considering one aspect of travel is to chronicle and visually record each experience for future recall and reference. Choosing a theme for each trip (lace curtains, the stately, beautiful faces of the elderly, the creative and practical usage of stone in Ireland, colorful flowers) keeps me focused and enhances my overall participation in everything I see and do.

When thinking back on my discreet ‘nursing’ professor back at Indiana University, I tend to associate her with the backbone of information gathering in the form of the Five W’s and link them to the stories (essays) I write today. These questions are my particular take-away from that period in my life and are used in everything I write. You can never relinquish the power that education affords you even when journalism blends into creative writing. Ask any mystery writer you may know! 

WHO was involved?

WHAT happened?

WHERE did it take place?

WHEN did it take place?

WHY did that happen?

With the possible addition of....

HOW did it happen?

Fairly basic questions with answers that bring a writer (be it fiction or non-fiction) directly to the point of the story and beyond. Even though I still have yet to fully grasp the basic task of embracing brevity, or how to write less and say more, I have come to realize that good, concise writing is more than just writing. It is art in its purest form.  

So, thank you ‘hippie mama’ for helping me see society within an equal, level headed, worldly perspective while at a very vulnerable age. I won’t think about how old your beautiful child is today but hope you are still there to share in his life with all of the love and dignity you afforded us, your students at the time, and during that one very special year of my life.

Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

A series of short stories.....





New Beginnings.......


By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



Yes, I must change my main heading now that the new year is upon us....that's always 'the deal' when you decide to incorporate a timeline within a title.  I knew that when I originally entitled my Blog Site after returning from Ireland in September.  Sadly, it is time...

However, I am so looking forward to living, breathing, writing in and embracing this new year....2014!!

First of all, the number fourteen, and I type it here with reverence, has been 'My Number' since.....well, forever!  Yes, Virginia....I can actually remember being fourteen and it was a very exciting time in my life.  As a freshman in high school, I was finding my own way into the craziness that high school was but, most importantly, I began honing in on my target and goal in life, writing.  My teachers elected to honor me as a Quill and Scroll member.  I wrote many articles for our school paper, Purple Paws, and our Varsity football coach, Pete Reynolds, invited me to be Varsity sports writer......something a female had never done before at Three Rivers High School!  Also, one of my first poems (Time) was published in the local newspaper.

Memories....Wow!  Another spectacular event, albeit a tad superstitious, perhaps, was trying out for the Girl's Drill Team at the age of fourteen.  Of course, I was 'lucky' enough to be given the number fourteen at tryouts, I kid you not!  You got it, I did make the squad and, by the following year, was chosen Captain of the Team.  And, as they say, the rest is history.  Sorry.  But, it was fun!

What did that have to do with my writing career, you might ask?  It showed me that I could be a leader and not just a follower.  You have to remember that I was a product of the 1960's with strong female figures who, regardless of race...or, because of it...were visionaries (dreamers) when it came to expecting, demanding, equality with men in our society.  If they had not set the bar as high as they did back then, we might as well be living in caves today being pulled around and enjoying no earthly freedoms or rights.  Woman sacrificed so much back then, and in subsequent years, in order to even allow the ingenuous freedoms our daughters have today.....and, still we must fight for equal pay?!?  Just asking.

This story is about Moving On...into a new year with new beginnings, new possibilities and positive changes.  I know.  I digress.  Often we must look back, however, in order to move forward in this thing called life.  That is how change comes about, thoroughly familiarizing yourself with what must be changed in order to have a better today and a brighter tomorrow because of it.

Travel has always been a contributing factor towards making my life enjoyable and more complete.  For me, the complex recipe for 'Life' is taking its main ingredient, Love, and mixing in indiscriminate proportions of ideas, emotions and gestures and folding them together like muffin batter.....ever so gently.  There's going to be lumps in there, but that's alright.  If everything ran smoothly....where would the challenges be that help to make us stronger; that mold us into the beautiful individuals we are?  My specific 'extra' ingredients include generous amounts of passion, laughter and compassion for others.  Now, the colorful icing atop each muffin is made from my love of travel and photography.  Perfect!!

I have changed my main heading with all the above in mind.  And, I will begin to fold into the 2014 version a variety of new stories and personal ideas to share with you at least once a week.  In no way will I forsake the remaining 'Ireland' story ideas I have nestling within my imagination....they're restlessly waiting to be turned into print and illustrated just for you.  If truth be told...I need to get them out of there! 

So, here's looking this New Year smack dab in the eye and availing myself of all the exciting, challenging and wonderful things it has to offer.  May I suggest that you do the same.....and, we'll compare notes.

Stick with me, Dear Readers, because.....the best is yet to come!!




Note:  Praise and Congratulations go out to The Michigan State Spartan Football Team and Coach Mark Dantonio for their decisive victory in the 100th Anniversary Rose Bowl Game....Great Old-School fashion, confident, Football at its Very Best!!!  Always so proud to be a Spartan.