Tag Archives: Canada

Blazing Sky

I wanted to title this essay how a third century Italian bishop and a twentieth century Canadian athlete unwittingly combined to inspire a song that has motivated me to embrace life ever since I was a teenager — but that seemed a bit wordy.

So, “Blazing Sky” it is.

Less than 40,000 people live in Formia, a small Italian city located halfway between Rome and Naples on the Mediterranean Coast where two patron saints watch over the town: the famed John the Baptist, and the lesser-known Erasmus of Formia. Not much is known of the early life of the bishop named Erasmus who lived in the third century, but there are many legends of various tortures that he faced living in the era of violent Christian persecution under the Roman co-emperors, Diocletian and Maximian. There are fanciful legends of surviving a red-hot oven as well as rolling down a hill in a barrel filled with protruding spikes. There is a particular legend of miraculously surviving a disembowelment, which led him also to be the patron saint of those suffering abdominal pains, including women in labor. Erasmus of Formia also became the patron saint of sailors, which may be associated with the legend of his continued preaching when lightning struck next to him, the sort of weather event that led many a terrified sailor to cry out to the troubled skies in search of protection.

Rick Hansen has no visible connection to Erasmus of Formia. Rick was born seventeen centuries later and across the planet on Vancouver Island in British Columbia. Rick did not face torture by religious persecution, but he did face tragedy as a teenager when he was thrown from the back of a pickup truck on the way home from a fishing trip and suffered an injury that left him paralyzed from the waist down. And although Rick has no miracle stories, his response to a devastating injury was nothing short of fantastic. Rick worked hard on rehabilitation, graduated from high school, and went to college to major in none other than physical education. He became a high school coach, and more notably, a world-class athlete who won multiple national and world championships. Rick befriended fellow Canadian, Terry Fox, who had a leg amputated due to bone cancer. In 1980, Fox famously attempted a run across Canada to raise money for cancer research, a run that had to end after 3,000+ miles when the cancer returned. Fox died less than a year later, and his heroic story inspired books, movies, and an entire Rod Stewart music tour. It also inspired his friend, Rick Hansen. In 1985, Rick began his Man In Motion World Tour and for the next two-plus years Rick wheeled for 25,000 miles across four continents and through thirty-four countries. Incredible.

Erasmus of Formia died over seventeen centuries ago, but Rick Hansen is still alive today doing inspirational things. (I like that despite the initial accident his love for fishing never waned; and I especially love that today he works to protect sturgeon populations and has written a children’s book titled, Tale of a Great White Fish: A Sturgeon Story.)

What is the connection between Erasmus of Formia and Rick Hansen? I am glad that you asked.

Among the many people inspired by Rick Hansen is fellow Canadian (and uber-famous music composer and producer) David Foster. Foster was working on another project in his Santa Monica recording studio in the 1980s when a movie director friend entered and told him that he had finished a feature film on Rick Hansen and his Man In Motion tour. Foster’s songwriting wheels began to turn, and magic happened when he shared the movie with British singer, John Parr, as they attempted to write a theme song for the movie, St. Elmo’s Fire. The director of St. Elmo’s Fire wanted a song about determination, and after witnessing the story of Rick Hansen, the lyrics just poured out. In a couple of hours they had a megahit song that they titled, Man in Motion. “All I need’s this pair of wheels” turn out to be Rick Hansen’s wheelchair, not Demi Moore’s jeep.

In the movie, Demi Moore, Emilio Estevez, Rob Lowe and the gang hang out at St. Elmo’s Bar, although the movie is titled, St. Elmo’s “Fire.” St. Elmo’s fire is an actual electrical weather phenomenon, a bluish glow that often appears in a stormy sky and can signal a coming thunderstorm, which medieval Mediterranean sailors found most valuable. The movie studio didn’t care for the title, so to keep the title the director wrote a scene into the movie where Rob Lowe’s character explains the phenomenon to comfort Demi Moore’s character. You see, those ancient sailors were comforted by St. Elmo’s fire and attributed that cherished fiery glow to their patron saint, St. Elmo — which is an alternate name for Erasmus of Formia.

Rick Hansen is the Man in Motion OG. And Erasmus of Formia is the St. Elmo in St. Elmo’s Fire.

And for forty years I have been in love with that song.

I never saw the movie way back in 1985. Or since. But I surely heard the song. Each time it came on the radio as I cruised the streets of my hometown something magical happened in my heart. My teenage self consistently reported it as my favorite song even though I didn’t know what any of it meant, but multiple phrases combined with a powerful tune to speak to my young, idealistic soul:

Growin’ up, you don’t see the writing on the wall.

Play the game, you know you can’t quit until it’s won.

You’re just a prisoner and you’re tryin’ to break free.

Burning up, don’t know just how far that I can go.

I can make it, I know, I can.

I can climb the highest mountain, cross the wildest sea.

It has been four decades since I was moved by this classic song. And although I have not been a martyr nor a paralympian, maybe I should not be surprised that my life can undoubtedly be characterized as a man in motion. It has been quite an adventure. And forty years later, I can be driving down a rural Wisconsin road as a fifty-five year old man, and that song can come on the ’80s station, and I will instantly crank it up to an unhealthy level and sing at the top of my lungs. And in such moments, I am fifteen years old again. And I still claim those lyrics decades later: I can make it, I know, I can.

I am glad now to picture a tortured saint literally barreling down a hill and a determined athlete wheeling across a continent. That makes me love the song even more. I instantly feel less tired and more invigorated to face whatever challenge awaits my future. Two people that never knew each other can inspire two people to write a song that can have that effect on a person. Will you join me in chasing after life regardless of its terrors and its unfair challenges?

I can see a new horizon underneath the blazin’ sky
I’ll be where the eagle’s flying higher and higher
Gonna be your man in motion, all I need’s this pair of wheels
Take me where my future’s lyin’, St. Elmo’s fire

Days of Reckoning

With so many statements vying for limited headline space, it seems that President Trump’s audacious assertions about Canada, Greenland, Gulf of Mexico, and the Panama Canal have been characterized by many as mostly “Trump being Trump,” which may very well be true. And I probably would not have given it much more thought had I not at the same time been reading my favorite college professor’s sweeping history of the American West titled, Continental Reckoning. 

For future reference, when you hear that someone has written a “sweeping history,” you can safely assume that it is a big ass book, which this one is. But it is a worthwhile read, especially for Americans to “be closer to understanding ourselves and how we have come to be.” (Prelude, page xxx — that’s Roman numeral thirty, not something dirty!)

I confess an added personal interest in the American West having lived in California for a dozen years in the past, and as I dove into the sweeping history in early January, it seemed all the more relevant when historic wildfires devastated the large numbers of people that have been drawn westward to what has become extremely valuable properties there. But it was reading of historic American expansion (and its consequences) alongside President Trump’s bold expansionist rhetoric that really began to capture my attention. 

A book review is not my intention, but I will explain that the mid-1800s witnessed incredible American expansion and transformation, and while historians typically focus on the violent and fateful American Civil War from that era, Dr. West encourages us to “broaden our view in space and time.” He writes, “The Civil War and the birth of the West . . . should be given something like equal billing in this crucial transition in national life. Each event has its own story and deserves its own narrative, but each was often in conversation with the other, and when each is properly considered in its broadest context, neither can be understood without the other.” (Prelude, page xx)

The extraordinary experience of the American West erupted from the discovery of California gold just as the territory became an American possession in 1848, something Dr. West calls, “The Great Coincidence.” (i.e., “Within two hundred hours of its becoming part of the republic . . . California began to be revealed as the most valuable real estate on the continent.” – page 5) 

It is no surprise that significant expansion is often an economic flex, but the consequences often extend much further.

For example, in the story of the American West, in addition to the vast increase in power, opportunity, and affluence, there were incredible advances in communication, science, technology, and transportation — but the costs were enormous: “hundreds of thousands dead or dispossessed” (454), “land stolen and turned into poisoned grotesqueries” (454), and an appalling racial ordering with devastating effects for Native communities, Black Americans, Hispanic Americans, and Chinese immigrants — Dr. West even shared another historian’s observation that the architects of Nazi Germany admired the United States and “believed they were ‘not so much inventing a race-obsessed state as catching up with one’” based on the U.S. treatment of those considered non-“white.” (453)

I recognize that this is the 2020s and not the 1850s, and that talk of expansion might be the bluster of a negotiator, but my thought for those of us used to a flag with fifty stars is this: Don’t take expansion rhetoric lightly. Be aware. Expansion produces consequences, often significant, and we should not allow our unfamiliarity with it and the possible allure of new acquisitions to prevent us from careful consideration of past experiences in our own days of reckoning, particularly if the proposed expansion is broad and, well, sweeping.

Faulkner’s famous line, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” seems apropos. Or, as Dr. West suggests near the end of this volume that he subtitled, The American West in the Age of Expansion: “The consequences remain; yesterday makes today. As for tomorrow and how best to use it, the stories and their voices offer up hints and provocations.” (454)