The Curlew Sandpiper -- Luck?

Thea and I have always said that it takes four things to find a truly rare bird: 1) you have to look at the right time of year; 2) you have to be in the right habitat; 3) you need to be there at the right time of day; and 4) you need to be lucky. Recently, this maxim played out again in our birdwatching "career" -- or did it? You be the judge.

May in New Jersey is the time of peak migration of North American birds. Many of the birds that breed in Canada/Alaska/New England/etc. are funneled through Cape May and up the coastline of New Jersey. The waterbirds, especially, are concentrated in fairly well-defined places. Combine this with decades of observations by dedicated (and fanatical!) birdwatchers, and you have a reasonably predictable "schedule" for many rare species. For example, the Mourning Warblers are most often seen at the Palmyra Park during the last two weeks of May, whereas the Connecticut Warblers are only seen at Higbee State Park in October.

From our various contacts, Thea and I knew that a truly rare bird, the Curlew Sandpiper, could be expected to be at various places in coastal New Jersey during the last two weeks of May. At least one or two of these rather beautiful shore birds (they have a bright chestnut head, neck and breast and a characteristic downturned black bill) have been spotted during each of the last four years. The species is actually native to Europe and Asia and but is "rare in the Eastern US" according to our bird book."

Excited by the possibility of seeing this rare bird, Thea began her customary background work that she performs when facing any difficult task. She went to the archived reports from the Delaware Valley Ornithological Club for the past five years and found that the Curlew Sandpiper was reported at Heislerville, about an hour and a half's drive from Philly. The earliest date the bird had been seen was May 14, and the latest May 31st. So, on May 8th, we did a "trial run" down to Heislerville and located the two large mudflats where the birds would presumably be arriving and got the "lay of the land". I did notice one small problem: there were literally THOUSANDS of other shorebirds present including semi-palmated sandpipers, dunlins, yellow legs, dowitchers, and the like. We would be looking, literally, for a needle in a haystack.

For the next week, we checked our e-mail every morning, looking for a posting of the sighting of a Curlew Sandpiper. On Sunday, May 16th, the first report came in. A female Curlew Sandpiper had been spotted the day before at Heislerville, about a 90 minute drive from Philly. Unfortunately, we had other commitments that day (I was playing music at Mass, and Sister Xavier had invited us to an open house in celebration of her 50 years as a nun), and so we could not get down to Heislerville until Tuesday. On Tuesday, we traveled to Heislerville and for more than two hours scanned every shore bird there, looking for one with a chestnut head and breast -- no luck! But, we remained positive -- the peak migration of the sandpipers had just begun. Surely there would be another opportunity.

There was! On Saturday, May 22nd, another sighting was posted: a male Curlew Sandpiper had been spotted on Friday at Heislerville. On Sunday, again after playing music at mass, we hustled on down to Heislerville. As we approached the second mudflat, we saw a group of people looking through telescopes. Hot dog! Surely in this group of obviously avid birders someone had sighted the Curlew Sandpiper -- but, no. When we asked if the bird had been sighted, all we got was a shake of the head. The group had been scanning birds for two hours and had not found him. As we joined the search, I learned that one of the group was Kevin Karlson, a co-author for the definitive book on shore birds and an absolute expert on identification of these difficult birds. I thought to myself: "if this guy can't find this bird in TWO HOURS, it probably isn't here today." But, we persevered and for an additional hour patiently looked through each of several thousand birds. No Curlew Sandpiper. The next day, an e-mail posting announced that about an hour after we left, the young nephew of one of the group members had managed to pick out the Curlew Sandpiper. I couldn't believe it -- why had I not thought to give our cell phone number to the group. We could have turned around and headed back. Thea was philosophical: "Some things are just not meant to be!"

The following Weds., May 26th, Thea had scheduled a kayaking trip for us down a beautiful river in central New Jersey. It was a gift from her father for her birthday, and we both were looking forward to it. That morning, as we headed out the door, my inner voice said "Check the e-mail", and so literally as we were packing the car, I opened up the computer. Holy smokes! A male Curlew Sandpiper had been sighted at 6 PM the night before at Heislerville. After a brief discussion, Thea and I decided to put the telescope in the car in case we decided to try one more time for the bird.

We had a beautiful morning kayaking. The river was quiet (a rare commodity in Philadelphia), with wonderful trees, flowers, and lots of birds. We even saw a number of blooming pitcher plants by the water's edge and a carpet of yellow blooming bladderworts on Lake Harrison. After a delightful morning, we finished up about 1 PM. "Well, do you want to go over to Heislerville" I asked? "Might as well", said Thea, and so we drove the 90 minutes and arrived at about 2:30 to find several other birders and literally NO shorebirds. It was low tide, and we would have to wait until at least 6 PM for a rising tide to concentrate the birds on the high spots on the mudflat.

Now, this is not a good situation for Thea and me. We do best when we have a schedule, a list of activities, and a plan. The prospect of 3+ hours of unscheduled "down time" is usually cause for frustration, boredom, and/or a fight. But this time, we actually improvised well. We drove to a nearby beach. I took a nap; Thea enjoyed the sights and sounds of the marsh. When some "locals" showed up, we got recommendations on a good diner and at 4:30 drove to a nearby town for an early meal. We dawdled over dinner (a very rare occasion for us!) and at 6 PM drove back to Heislerville, arriving at 6:20 PM. Just before arriving, Thea said, "You know, we probably would have seen this bird by now if we could have just come down here without having to do Sunday AM music or other commitments." I agreed and said something like: "Curlew Sandpiper or Mass, Mass or Curlew Sandpiper, maybe we should re-examine our priorities! If I were God, I would reward us for being faithful to our commitments!" We both laughed and drove up to a group of birders with telescopes.

Of course, no one had seen the Curlew Sandpiper! But, undeterred, we set up our telescope and began scanning. I looked first with my binoculars at the closest birds and almost immediately saw a couple of reddish birds. We put the scope on them: a red knot and a couple of dowitchers. I scanned left and saw another, smaller reddish blob. We put the scope on it: it was a small shorebird, the right size, and had a red neck and breast. But, the bird's head was tucked in and we could not see the beak. Still, I said "I think I might have the bird!" Thea looked and agreed. Another lady nearby, who had actually seen a Curlew Sandpiper the previous year, also looked and said that it did appear to be the bird, but without seeing the bill, she could not be sure. As I examined the bird in the telescope, he suddenly turned his head, and there was the definitive downturned, black bill. It as absolutely, a male Curlew Sandpiper!!!!! I quickly got Thea to look, and then the lady. From, literally two thousand shore birds, I had picked out the "needle in the haystack". We waved out arms, signalling other birders of our find. The lady rushed off to get her husband who had been scanning nearby groups of shorebirds. Thea and I took turns looking at the bird, reveling in the experience of finally being successful. Then, inexplicably, the entire flock of birds were spooked and flew off. The Curlew Sandpiper, after appearing to be asleep and roosting for the night, was gone. We spent the next hourly unsuccessfully trying to find him again but the "needle" had disappeared.

As Thea and I drove home, we re-lived the day. The kayak trip was fantastic; the lazy afternoon was nice; the dinner was fun; and we had been two of the three people (out of perhaps a dozen birdwatchers) who had seen the Curlew Sandpiper. We had been at the right place, at the right time, in the right month, and we had been lucky...

or had God just smiled on us?

Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes

One of the guidelines for the Team at the St. Francis Inn is that of inviting others to share in its ministry. We have been overwhelmed by the support of so many people here in Philadelphia. However, we have been even more humbled by the support of so many of our friends and family throughout the country. We know that people have been praying for our health and safety during our time here. Others have sent us socks, underwear and toiletries to be given to our guests. Some folks have sent cash contributions, and a few have given of their time and energy to come and work for a number of days here at the Inn. For all of this support, we are truly grateful.

However, this week we had the most amazing gift sent to the Inn through us. Our friends the Maryvale Sisters have a daycare in Vale, NC. Each year the children host a walkathon for a worthy cause. The Sisters decided that this year the recipient of the walkathon would be the St. Francis Inn. They had as their theme for the walk the miracles of the loaves and fishes. They wanted the children to understand that even if only a small amount of food or money is present, it can be multiplied into a larger amount through the grace of God. All of the children, even the babies in strollers, participated in 10 laps around the drive at the daycare. Many parents and grandparents walked as well. On Saturday we received a certified letter from Maryvale. Enclosed was a check to the Inn in the amount of $4230! The team received the check and pictures of the event on Monday morning. When they saw the amount they were truly amazed. Sister Mary said they needed the children to do all of their fundraising. Best of all, the money will be matched by an anonymous benefactor, so in reality twice the amount was raised.

All of us here give thanks and praise to the Maryvale community, the children, and the hundreds of donors who gave to the walkathon, all for the honor and glory of God.

Serving in the yard

I feel like Thea and I are in "countdown mode". In a little more than one month, we will be heading home, and the St. Francis Inn experience will be just a memory. Clearly, it has changed Thea and me, but now, we will re-enter the "real world" of Hickory and get on with our "real" lives. On Wednesday morning, I spoke with my spiritual director -- we call each other for an hour every Weds. AM -- and he gave me some good advice. "Mark", he said, "don't waste these last days at the Inn by jumping ahead in your mind to being back in Hickory. There are still many opportunities for the Lord to work through you at the Inn." Good advice, and I resolved to be open to the Lord's grace amidst the "countdown".

Today, I worked the morning meal and was in the yard. We had plenty of staff, and so the Coordinator told me to "relax and just monitor the yard and bathrooms." As I was standing around, some of the guests began "checking in" with me. Rambo, one of our regulars who suffers from ongoing depression and suicidal thoughts, told me that he "wanted me to hang him." I replied that I didn't want to do that because he was an important person, and that I didn't want him to die. He grumbled off saying that he was tired of living and wanted to die.

Then, Michael and his one-year old baby came by. His is a sad story: the mother of his child was murdered about a year ago at one of the subway stops. Apparently she was a prostitute who could not give up the lifestyle and got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Michael asked me to take a picture of his little boy because he, like many of the parents that the Inn serives, does have any photos of his child. While Michael tickled the little boy, I snapped away and we finally got a good shot which I told Michael that I would print for him.

About this time, back comes Rambo informing me that both bathrooms are out of toilet paper. This, clearly, is a crisis of the first order, and I quickly go in and replace all the exhausted rolls with new ones. "See", I tell Rambo, "if I had hanged you, you would not have been alive to tell about the toilet paper. You are important!" Magically, Rambo's atitude flips and he begins to tell me about how his secret powers, derived from something called "The Matrix". He rambles on for a few minutes, not making a whole lot of sense, but clearly, the depression is at least temporarily, put at bay. He is happy again, feeling some self worth.

A minute later, another of the regulars -- a 48-year old man named Deacon -- stops by. Deacon suffers from mental illness of some sort, possibly paranoia. He is a voracious writer, scribbling endlessly in notesbooks, and recently has been in a religious mood. I ask him how he is, and he replies in a sonorous voice: "Wonderfullll....wonderful.............wonderful. To think that He would be interested in me.......to think that He would care......they don't believe but it's a little too much.......just a little too much......Isn't it?.......Isn't it?? I ask Deacon who "He" and "They" are. He replies that "He" in the Lord, and "They" are people on the street. So I say: "You mean that it is just a little too much to believe that the Lord cares about you and me, even though many people in Kensington are non-believers -- right? "RIIIIIGHT", says Deacon, "But it's a little too much......too much." He moves off to discuss religion with someone else.

Then, a "normal" person -- Jerome from the AA program across the street -- approaches. Jerome is a recovering alcoholic that lives over at the Last Stop. He comes to Mass regularly and when I ask him how many days he's been sober he says "Over two years, man!" I congratulate him and ask him if he has any family. He casts his eyes down and tells me that he's separated from his wife ("She got tired of my drinking and kicked me out of the house.") and his three kids aged 21, 19, and 7. He, at 38, is already a grandfather. After the initial separation, he "went crazy" and got arrested for dealing drugs ("I panicked and made some really stupid decisions.") Now, however, he's clean, looking for a job and hoping to reconcile with his wife. He tells me: "I want a relationship like you have with you wife." "It takes lots of work" I tell him.

Jerome heads to the food line, and I hear a familiar voice behind me. It's Ray. This is the guest that has an educational bent. He loves science and often asks me questions about animals. Today he, too, is on a religion kick. "I got this tape from the library on religion, man. You know that lots of our religion comes from Africa and that's why those churches have all that singing and dancing and charismatic preachers." I notice that someone has left a Time Life book on Mammals on the ground and ask Ray if he would like to have the book. "Sure", he says, and he moves off. Later, after the gate closes he comes back and asks for a razor which I give to him, although technically we are not supposed to give out toiletries on Thursdays. "Thanks, man" he says. "I knew that you would do that for me because you are my friend." And he moves off down the street.

I look at my watch: 70 minutes has elapsed, just like that. And I feel good, because Rambo is happier; Michael will have a good picture of his little boy; Ray has a new book and a couple of razors; I have told Jerome that I will pray for him, but my main thought is Deacon's -- It's wonderful that the Lord cares about us and works through us.

Wonderfullllllll, indeed.

Things Fall Apart

Over time, homeowners have to repair and replace major items in the house. At the Inn, we also have major breakdowns, often at the most inopportune times. This past Sunday/Monday is a great example. On Sunday, Mark and I were off for the day. When we returned from a peaceful day of birding in New Jersey, we saw a man on his knees on the sidewalk, pushing a plumbing "snake" down into a hole. Apparently someone flushed an object down the toilet, and it stopped up the outflow. The sewage backed up into the basement, but no one went into the basement during the meal. By the time the backup was discovered, several inches of water covered the floor. The plumbers were called (on a Sunday!), but couldn't get to the problem. The garbage disposal also stopped working during the meal. This is critical because we use the disposal to destroy food left on plates when the plates are washed during the meal. Fortunately, Sr. Leslie has talents in the repair department, and she was able to take the disposal apart, discover the source of problem (a small staple), remove it, and get the garbage disposal back together in record time.
Monday the plumbers returned with a longer snake and were able to remove the blockage. We were able to get the bathrooms open again. For Monday's meal, Mark was assigned to dishwasher. He turned the machine on to fill it up with hot water for the first load of dishes. The light that indicates the water is in place just kept blinking. Mark called over Sr. Mary, who went through the procedure again--same thing happened. Sr. Leslie and Karen both came over to see if they could solve the problem, to no avail. At this point it was 4:25 and the meal was scheduled to start in five minutes. Karen, the coordinator, quickly made the decision to go with paper cups and plastic spoons for the meal. The bowls for the roast beef over rice would have to be washed by hand. Sister Mary got water boiling on the stove, and Mark and Mary washed 328 bowls by hand in the sink. The dishwasher repairmen showed up Tuesday morning and worked all day, but could not finish the job. We have been promised that by noon today, the dishwasher will be up and running. Both breakfast pots and all items from Tuesday's dinner were washed by hand. Fortunately, we have 8 students from Lemoyne College here all week, so we have lots of hands to do the work.

Group Visitors from Home

It is interesting how ones perspective changes. After Thea and I had been here awhile and had learned all of the basic jobs at the Inn, we actually began to dread -- well not DREAD, but at least to be weary -- of new groups of volunteers coming to St. Francis Inn. At first, it was really fun to meet new people each week and to teach others how to do the various tasks efficiently. However, as with all human endeavor, it eventually becomes tiresome. When I look on the schedule and see that a new group of college students is coming to the Inn, I think to myself: "Well, I hope these kids are quicker learners than that LAST group!" I know this is not especially Franciscan or Christian, but it is honestly sometimes the way I feel.

However, when the visitors are your friends, all this changes. Last month, our close friends Marie and Mary Ann visited, and we just loved seeing them. This past week, we had a wonderful group of seven from St. Aloysius in Hickory, and we had an equally-great time with them. The group visit was supposed to be a surprise, but through an e-mail glitch, Thea and I found out their plans pretty early. On the one hand, it was a disappointment: it would have been great to be surprised. On the other hand, since we knew they were coming, we could -- and did -- look forward to the visit. We had been on previous mission trips with three of the members of the group, and so we knew that they were dedicated workers that would do well in the SFI setting.

When the group arrived, Thea and I were the host couple, and we took pride in putting them to work. We had found out in advance that several of the men had some "fix-it" and construction skills, abilities which many of our visiting groups do not possess. So the Inn staff -- especially Karen and Barbara -- put together a long, long list of various tasks, ranging from hanging fire extinguishers in three locations and sealing windows to replacing bathroom floors and fixing plumbing leaks. The guys tackled the tasks with aplomb and efficiency, and by week's end had finished most of the jobs on the list. There were several adventures, including picking up a six ft. high section of picket fence at Home Depot, only to discover that the fence was too large to fit into the Inn's van. We jury-rigged a rooftop mounting using twine and drove slowly coming home, praying to St. Francis all the way!

Other members of the group helped with other extra jobs, including a complete weeding, trimming and clean up of the back yard of our neighboring house. In two hours flat, the yard was transformed from a junky, weedy, overgrown mess to an orderly, beautiful yard. It was a miracle. Again, our Inn staff, especially Barbara, were ecstatic. Other members helped Thea do soil preparation at a nearby community garden managed by the residents of the Catholic Workers, House.

Now, before you think that the St. Als group didn't get to work at the Inn itself, let me set the record straight. All of the above was IN ADDITION to working regular shifts at the Inn, St. Benedict's Thrift shop, and doing pick ups. During the afternoons when most of the groups get a break, many of the St. Als groups worked at these extra tasks. After a couple of days, one of the guys told me that he was "pooped!" No wonder -- we worked them hard, or rather, they worked themselves hard. Thea and I were so proud to be associated with these talented and spirit-filled people.

I don't want to put words in anybody's mouth, but the experience seemed to be really positive for all. One person told me that this "seems more like a lovely week-long retreat than a mission trip." Another member of the group, a college student, made what will probably be a lasting friendship with 87 year old Sister Margaret. Still another spent several meals talking to our guests in the yard and came away with a new view of the homeless.

This morning, after Sunday mass, the group departed. As they left, one of the men said to me: "Thanks so much for allowing us to have this experience. If you and Thea had not come up here, we would never have come here either." Truly it was a pleasure for Thea and me to be God's instruments in exposing the St. Al's group to the wonderful work of the St. Francis Inn. The experience also remind Thea and me how much we miss home and are looking forward to getting back to Hickory. Spending time with the group definitely helped begin our transition from our life at SFI to the next phase of our life back in North Carolina. Again, and always, God works through all of us for mutual benefit and growth.

Praise be to God!

Hot dog supper

One of the challenges at the Inn is being able to work under many individuals with widely divergent personalities. For example, if one cooks with Br. Fred, there is virtually nothing to do. Br. Fred will get up at 5 am and prepare everything, all the way down to counting out the forks and napkins for the takeout meals (side doors). When I have been assistant to Fred, my contribution has been opening a few cans of some vegetable and heating them on the stove.
At the other end of the continuum is Br. Xavier. Xavier is a master at taking food someone else has cooked and transforming it into a new dish--a soup, stew or sandwich. Usually he cooks alone and commandeers a local volunteer to fetch and carry for him. However, yesterday I was assigned to him as assistant cook. I wasn't concerned as he had let me know earlier in the week that we were having hot dogs. I had seen hundreds of hot dog rolls arrive on Monday with the bread, and he had moved them to the cooler and marked them with his name, so we were set. I figured I would just have to open a few cans of beans, heat them up, and we would be ready. WRONG!!!!
On Wednesday Xavier let me know he had a doctor's appointment Thursday morning, and I should take some cooked potatoes left over from another day and make potato salad. No problem, I thought. I searched the cooler for the potatoes. I found pans of green beans, peas, applesauce, lasagna, even ham and pineapple. After some searching and asking, I located them in a different refrigerator. I set to work cutting up the 20 pounds of potatoes and adding celery, onion, boiled eggs, mayonnaise and a little mustard. After two hours, I was finished. It tasted great. By that time, Xavier had returned. We were cooking for 300 people, and I knew we needed more side dishes. Xavier turned the green beans into a cold string bean salad, and I made a huge tossed salad. With the applesauce, we had 2 hot dogs and 2 buns for each guest, plus two side dishes. I have learned that one must have backup dishes in case the food doesn't stretch as far as expected. Xavier pointed out more boiled potatoes and the peas.
Around 3 pm I began opening all the packs of hot dogs and we made 20 take out platters. By 4:30 I had everything ready to begin serving the food. At that point, Xavier disappeared. I had expected him to continue cooking the dogs, and I would make the switch of the various sides as they ran out. Instead, I was suddenly cooking, removing the cooked dogs, adding new ones to the tilt skillet, washing used pots, bringing in more drinks, and bringing the new food to the servers. At one point the water level of the tilt skillet got too low and I had to bring a faucet into the skillet and refill it. I threw in the dogs and lowered the lid. Too late, I realized I had not flipped the faucet out of the skillet and by lowering the lid I had bent the entire pipe. Other cooks had done the same thing earlier in the year, and I had conscientiously avoided doing the damage. Now I had to confess that I had broken the faucet.
The meal finally ended. We had fed 299 people. The backup dishes were needed and we didn't have much in the way of leftovers. I was exhausted and upset that I had damaged the equipment. The event made me appreciate what the cooks do 365 days at the end, and made me happy that I was not a cook. I hope future schedules leave me off cooking detail for the time that remains.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

I (Thea) received a financial windfall back in March, and decided to use the cash to go to a Phillies game. However, when we started to look for tickets at games that did not conflict with our schedule in May and June, we found that most of the games were sold out. Standing Room Only spots were $17.00, and I balked at the idea of standing for 3 hours. Fortunately, one of the staff members has a brother with 2 season tickets and he was looking to sell his seats for a few of the games. We were able to get seats at last Sunday's night game with the New York Mets.

We took the subway to the stadium and got there early so we could walk around the entire level and observe all the concession stands, memorabilia and all the bells and whistles this 5 year old stadium has. Our seats were on the fourth tier, but behind home plate so we had a good view of the batter and the giant tv screen. The people sitting around us were mostly young men and women, rabid fans but very courteous and willing to answer our questions as first time visitors to the stadium.

The Mets had a great pitcher for this game with a 90 mph fastball. The Phillies pitcher, Jamie Moyer, is old (46) for a major league player and his fastball was a mere 80 mph. However, he held his own. At the bottom of the fourth inning the score was Mets 5, Phillies 2. We were thinking it might be a rout for the home team. Then a few hits and walks later, the bases were loaded and the batter hit a grand slam. When a home run occurs, a giant neon Liberty Bell lights up, fireworks go up and the bell gongs. People were jumping up and down and high-fiving each others. More hits and another homer later, and the Phillies were up 11-5. That was pretty much the ballgame. We stayed until the end, took the subway home and got back around midnight.

"One is silver and the other's gold."

As much as we like the members of the community here at St. Francis, we miss our family and our friends immensely. Therefore, we were so excited to have a visit from our two dear friends Mary Ann Crane and Marie Martino. Both are members of our parish in Hickory, and we have spent many hours with them and their husbands having dinner, discussing life, and in general having great times. Both ladies worked at the Inn all day Thursday and on Friday. They are outgoing and great conversationalists. By the time they left, they were all on a first name basis with Danny, Ted, Rambo, and a number of other colorful characters that populate the Inn.

We were rather short on volunteers Friday and I (Thea) was the coordinator that day. So it was helpful to know that if I left Mary Ann and Marie in charge of cut desserts, I did not have to return every 15 minutes to be sure they would be finished in time. These ladies have not only raised families but also done lots of volunteer work, so they were able to take in the routine we use pretty quickly. By the end of the day Friday, Mary Ann was instructing the servers and bussers and Marie was doing mail checks for the guests. If they had stayed a few more days, they would have been asked to be Team members!

The only negative about their visit was that they had to leave, and we will not see them for at least 8 more weeks. Looking at the calendar made us realize that we are starting to be "short-timers;" eight weeks from today we plan to start our journey South. We can already tell that the transition will be bittersweet. We have gotten so much from the guests and the community here, but at the same time there are people that want us nearby in North Carolina and other places where we may be able to share our gifts.