J. Davy Crockett III

Many people in the USA are deeply concerned about the admission by the National Security Agency (NSA) of eavesdropping on private, personal telephone calls and the monitoring of e-mail. “Leaks” or revelations made by Julian Assange of WikiLeaks, who is reportedly taking refuge in the Ecuadorian Embassy in London, and more recently, Edward Snowden, who has sought asylum in The Russian Federation, have set the diplomatic community on edge.

As a huge winter storm was bearing down on the midsection of the United States, the media continually broadcast urgent warnings to be prepared for the worst. Snow, freezing rain, sleet, ice and high winds were predicted. When such warnings are made, it seems certain that every supermarket, neighborhood grocery and convenience store will be quickly sold out of bread and milk. This buying frenzy is so predictable that it is the subject of jokes and comedy sketches. “What do people do with all that bread and milk?”

Some time ago as I visited a member of the Church in a nursing home, which was a new facility with a lot of amenities, I said to the dear lady, “This is a very nice place!” As she sat in her wheelchair, she looked at me with sadness and said, “This is a place full of homesick people!” “Are you homesick, I asked?” “Oh,” she said, “this place will never be home!” Though I have visited many such facilities before and since that afternoon, I’ve never heard a more poignant definition or description of a nursing home.

The old Victory Hotel had seen better days. In fact, at that time, some 40 years ago, it was an abandoned building, shuttered and boarded up, though it was only a stone’s throw from the main railway station in the city. Passenger trains were no longer in vogue, and this area had become a pocket of decay in the city.