Date sent: Fri, 2 Mar 2001 22:45:13 -0500 To: johnny at charm.net From: Maura Sisson Subject: Johnny-Digest V3 #4 - MIA - Signs of spring Send reply to: johnny at charm.net I have not received Digest #4. I have never encountered this particular problem although I know others complain of it from time to time. I realized something was amiss when I read Ms. Russell's reference to Ms. Latham's observation that herons look like Jesuits and knew that I hadn't seen the comment. A quick check disclosed that #4 is indeed missing. I have some interest in both subjects: herons and Jesuits, that is, so I was amused to see them juxtaposed in this manner. My parents were both Roman Catholics of Irish heritage and I attended Catholic parochial school grades 1 thru 12. During those years, I met a few Jesuits, including numerous seminarians. Of the seminarians, Father Ed Trember (sp?) stands out in my memory for an enchanting mastery of whistled bird calls and songs. Of the priests, Father Thoman (pronounced like "tow man") stands out for entirely different reasons. He was quite notable for a fierce and forbidding appearance and manner. I'm sure I wasn't the only youngster who must have felt in Fr. Thoman's presence very much like little fish, crawdads and salamanders may feel under the pitiless yellow gaze of a feeding heron . Fr. Thoman was the terror of catechism class with his blitzkreig appearances and ferocious interrogation of thoroughly intimidated blameless little kids, but he caused much additional consternation by habitually using his middle finger to point out things written on the blackboard. Most of us had no idea what that extended middle finger meant, but we did know that whatever it was was very bad, and that *we* would be in really deep hot water if we ever had the temerity to do such a thing. We were pretty much scandalized out of our wits to see a priest doing it. I think us little Catholics had more of our one protestant grandparent in us than the Catholic clergy would willingly approve of, and at least one of us knew those Jesuits were not to be trusted. Upon the occasion of a parent, having discovered evidence of some kid mischief, destruction or carelessness, and demanding to know who was at fault, one of my younger siblings expressed the belief that "Some Jezzamint (sic) musta done it!" I have made occasional use of this theory, with widely varying success, over the intervening years. Apparently my sister was not alone in harboring deep suspicions of priests before either of us had even encountered Fr. Thoman (later referred to as 'Father Tomaine' (sp?) by older kids). Apparently when one of the seminarians picked up and held me when I was a toddler, I glared fiercely at him and said "Put me down or I'll break your Rosary!" More on the subject of herons: Our house is on the hightest point of ground beneath the flight path of great blue herons commuting between their rookery on the Mattawoman Creek in Charles County and the shallows of the inlet at Farmington Creek in Prince George's County. Consequently, during the nesting season, we have frequent opportunities to observe greats blue flying over at treetop/rooftop height, affording us a really good look. One day last summer, I was playing in the yard with my then 6 year old stepdaughter when another great blue hove into view directly over our heads. We gazed up, in open-mouthed wonder, as he proceeded majestically toward the opposite treeline. Just before he reached the far tree line, without so much as a single missed wingbeat, he unloaded an absolutely astonishing quantity of the sort of surprise for which birds are infamous. The possibility of *that* particular wonder of nature transpiring, particularly in anything approaching the sheer magnitude of the heron's output, had never, until that very moment, occurred to either of us. I don't know who was more astonished, me or my stepdaughter, and we laughed so hard we nearly blessed the ground ourselves, but we are in heartfelt agreement that we will forever more be extremely circumspect about gaping at birds flying overhead, especially when they were large ones. Can we hear it for Mother Nature in the raw! raw! raw!? Maura Sisson A'69