MAKE HISTORY

Tuesday, August 26th, 2025

Chatham, Ontario

I was born here in Chatham, at St. Joseph’s Hospital, on October 5^th, 1952.  My mother and father whisked me away to a house not far from this city on Highway #2, the same trail taken by slaves from south of this border fleeing for freedom almost two hundred years before.

My sister lives in Chatham.  She is quite the history buff about the place.  She took me around (we walked) through the downtown, pointing out what the different buildings are, and what some of them mean historically.  At the forks of the Thames River and McGregor Creek, the Americans came with forces pitted against Shawnee warriors.  Chief Tecumseh, who headed these men, was hit by a musket shot.  Being an ally for the British, he fought, not only for the Empire, but his own people.  Yes, it was a war between the US and Canada.  It was 1813, and the US was poised for a takeover.

Rose Ann, Annapurna, and I were standing at the spot where war logistics took place over two centuries ago.  My siblings and I, all six of us, were born near this location in Chatham.

In our ambling along the downtown, we met locals.  Friendly, they are.  One fellow, Greg, I believe, just came out of his workplace, the post office.  He took great interest in my attire and also that of my brahmachari (monk) companions.  As a musician, he took note of our mrdangam drum.  When I mentioned I was born up the road over 70 years ago, it didn’t seem to faze him much.  I guess we continue in life unknown.  As spirits, we move from body to body making our own history.  That goes for each and every one of us.  In the process, it would be nice to put a feather on our cap and do something for our soul.  The rest may be forgotten.

AT THE FORK OF THE RIVER.

MAY THE SOURCE BE WITH YOU!

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