Ears to Hear

Robert Aleph's Personal Blog Site

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I seek to share the light, life and peace that I have received.

  • The Wind (LITC8)

    Reflections on the date of November 30, 1975

    Dear Class of 2030,

    This is the last day of Thanksgiving break, and today I feel like writing about my high school friends. Thanksgiving is a good time to hang out with friends, and I am thankful for them.

    The town where I went to high school is a leafy, well-established suburb of a major midwestern city. It was so characteristic of that type that it was twice featured in national documentaries about what it was like to come of age there.

    Most (all?) of my friends grew up there, but I was a newcomer. A child of divorce, Mom and I moved to that city after she remarried. They chose that suburb based on the excellent schools, which did not disappoint.

    My stepfather was a chess player, and he often faced off against a local judge. I took little interest, as I was feeling down from the divorce and its aftermath. One day, Mom said I should join a club that the judge’s son was part of, a Masonic group called DeMolay. It seemed a little interesting, so I said, “Sure, Mom.”

    She was right: I did make friends. In fact, all of my closest friends were members of our chapter, the Rabboni. The judge’s son John became my best friend.

    John is a year older than me and twice as confident. He’s a brilliant thinker and is able to frame difficult issues with ease and clarity. We talked a lot and listened to music. I can still picture the upper room in his old house where we would sit on the floor, listen to Cat Stevens, and try to figure out the mysteries of life. We played the 1972 album “Catch Bull at Four”, with its cryptic lyrics, over and over again. Books figured heavily in our conversations, too, such as Black Elk Speaks and Siddhartha. I’ve never again had that type of friend. Thank you, John.

    Al and Tom, also DeMolay, were friends of John’s, so they became my friends, too. Most Saturday nights, we would play poker into the early hours in Tom’s basement, which had been set up as a party room. Think paneling, neon signs, captain’s chairs and vinyl tablecloths. Al was the oldest and sometimes we’d hang out at his little rental house. He got the Heart album “Dreamboat Annie” right after it came out. I remember being blown away by that beat. For a change, we would sometimes go to IHOP. At that time, the franchise branded itself with tent-shaped buildings, kind of a cheesy chalet design, and it was open all night. Some of the “international” flavor came from its daring syrup options: blueberry, butter pecan and strawberry. Trendy for the time.

    The highest leadership position in a DeMolay chapter is called the “Master Councilor.” John had that role, then I followed in his footsteps. One of the things I did was to reimagine the initiation ceremony, which was based on the martyrdom of Jacques DeMolay, a Knights Templar who lived in the 14th century. I converted the event from narration to a dramatic reenactment and set it to progressive rock music. Jacques made his entry to the Yes song “South Side of the Sky.” Jethro Tull also contributed. The chapter thought it was pretty cool, and the adults didn’t seem to mind. (Didn’t hurt that John’s older brother was one of our advisors.)

    My advice, ’30, is to hold on to your high school friends. Don’t lose touch. Hang out with them at Thanksgiving. Sadly, I have lost contact with John, Tom and Al, and I hope to mend that soon.

    If you feel like it, share your friend stories in the comments.

    Your friend,

    Bob

  • Time (LITC7)

    Reflections on the date of November 28, 1975

    Fellow Time Travelers,

    For me, one of the great things about the Thanksgiving holiday is the extra measure of time just when I need it. This morning was a bit hectic with Black Friday shopping, which didn’t exist in 1975. But as I write this, the sun is shining through my office, I’m listening to Pink Floyd (guess which song), and I have time to reflect.

    My relationship to time has changed over time, and for the better. I have less fear of ticking clocks. When I was striving for my goal to get into CGA and even more as a cadet, time seemed an enemy. I had too much to do in too little ________. Nagging, barely acknowledged thoughts whispered, “You are falling behind. Try harder.” My anxiety often led me to be short with others and oblivious to many important things. Time management is a survival skill, but not if time is managing me. I wish I had taken more time at CGA for fun and friendships. There’s not a second shot at that.

    Over time, some things have helped. I still have time pressures, but I have more peace with it, and I don’t turn into a jerk when under stress quite as much. For one thing, I have learned to breathe. To breathe mindfully, that is. It allows me to clear my mind and recognize the fear that’s eating at me. It also helps me to put things in perspective. Time is a gift. purpose is a gift, and I should be thankful for them both.

    In my faith practice, I have learned to use breath prayers. Each short prayer is said in one cycle of inhaling and exhaling. A favorite prayer is “Fear…Not.” Then “Be…Light” and “Have…Faith.” As I pray, my pulse slows, my mind clears, and priorities sort themselves out.

    Changing the channel with a short walk also works well. It’s amazing how quickly the brain becomes unstuck when my legs are in motion and my blood is flowing.

    I often pray over my daily task list. I ask Jesus to show me which ones are the most important on this day. I put a star next to the ones that seem hot. I trust him to handle the ones I can’t get to. It always works out.

    Yes, time is a gift, a gift to be used well.

    “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

    Have a good one.

    Aleph

  • Moonshadow (LITC6)

    Reflections on the date of November 24, 1975

    Dear Reader,

    Looking over my first set of blogs, I feel satisfied. If someone had written them for me 50 years ago, I think I would have appreciated them and be mildly interested. Hope you feel the same.

    But I realize that I might have left you with a question: “The blog says it’s by Robert Aleph. What’s up with that?”

    To start with, I need to confess that I’m out there a bit. I do devote much of my attention to my own thoughts. As a cadet, I was a bit of a space cadet. It’s a useful trait for writers and sometimes for engineers. Not so much for athletes or fast-paced military operations.

    Being a cerebral type, I find it hard to accept something I’m told to be truth as truth. I need to think it through for myself. But once I come to believe something, I’m all in.

    My relationship with Jesus followed that pattern. I went to church with my family growing up and got the sense that there was something real about it but couldn’t quite buy in. The miracles were a stumbling block, especially as I came to better understand science and engineering. Then, at 28 years old, after a long string of bad choices, I was asked to accept Jesus as my lord and savior. I knew that I needed a savior but hesitated about the lord part. How could I say I was ready to follow Jesus when he didn’t seem to follow the laws of physics? My pastor wisely told me that I didn’t need to set aside every doubt; I just needed to put my trust in Jesus. Miraculously, I was able to do that, and my life was forever changed.

    Fast forward 25 years, and I had grown much closer to the Jewish carpenter from Nazareth. The Bible made more sense to me, especially after learning about its historical context. I came to believe that the maker of all things, seen and unseen, has modes of action that are beyond my understanding.

    So, my faith was growing. But my personal and professional life was crashing due to those yet-to-be addressed defects of character. Humbled, I felt driven to look more intently for the track line that would get me back on course. One celestial sighting came on a men’s retreat where we were encouraged to ask God to reveal our spiritual names to us. The sound that came into my mind was like “Ah loff”. This was weird because it’s not a name I’d ever heard before. Turned out that the sound in my brain was the first letter in the Hebrew alphabet, which is transliterated as “Aleph”, and it is sometimes used as a name. It also represents the letter one. As a name, it’s associated with leadership and teaching.

    What I came to understand is that being a “space cadet”, although somewhat of liability, was a valuable part of my unique design. My over-active imagination could help me to see things that others may not have thought about, things that could bring them light, life and peace. I hope that I can do that for you.

    In Christ,

    Robert Aleph

  • Changes (LITC5)

    Reflecting on the time of November 23, 1975

    Dear ’30,

    I haven’t blogged for a while because it’s been a busy month. One thing that kept me occupied was visiting the colleges that my stepdaughter is applying to. Another thing was the chance to interview a candidate for your class. This high school senior has excellent potential at CGA, and I hope he chooses to join your class, although he is sure to have many other options. These doings prompted me to reflect on my own college search and the other schools I could have attended. Asking “what if?” is usually a waste of time, but maybe not in this case, if it helps you with your college decision.

    Like you, I had a strong GPA and excellent test scores in high school as well as a lot of sports, service and leadership roles. As I mentioned, CGA was my first choice, but I was also admitted to Washington University in St. Louis and to Purdue.

    To start, let me say that the difficulties I’ve encountered in life would been essentially the same on any path I had chosen. They were a function of yet-to-be-addressed character defects which would have tripped me up regardless of circumstances.

    As to Washington University, there’s an odd coincidence. When I went to get a Master’s of Science in Civil Engineering many years later (using the Post-9/11 GI Bill, BTW), my graduate advisor often talked about his advisor, Dr. R. I came to find out that Dr. R. had graduated with a civil engineering degree from Washington University within a few years of when I got mine from CGA. He had a very distinguished career with many high-impact publications and is now the head of a leading academic institute on sustainability, a topic of great interest to me. When I learned about him, the thought that immediately came to mind was, “That could have been me.” Probably not, but what if it was? It would have been nice to receive such academic honors and to be a change agent for good.

    Yes, but.

    When I reflect on the honor of serving my country doing real-world missions that I believe in, the possibility of academic honors goes down a notch or two. True, I’ll never have the wide impact of Dr. R., but I can point to areas where I did have an impact, particularly in my service after 9/11. And now, even late in life, I am making a tangible difference in my community and the industry. I sustain life with clean water.

    A Purdue degree would probably have led me to specialize in a particular field of civil engineering. In contrast, the USCGA civil engineering program is general and broad-based in nature. Perhaps, Purdue would have enabled me to scale the ladder in a national engineering firm, which could well have led to greater compensation over the years of my career. But I would not have enjoyed the variety of experiences that I have had in my CG and civilian engineering career. I’ve had breadth, not depth, which is fine by me. I like to learn about many things, and public service has been meaningful to me. When I was on the facilities engineering team at Training Center Petaluma, we laid out the master plan for base expansion, which has largely been implemented. It feels good to go back there and see that.

    In the end, I am happy with the path I’ve taken and thankful to CGA for setting me on that path. I am wealthy in terms of honor and meaningful work.

    May it be so for you as well.

    Robert

  • Kodachrome (LITC4)

    Reflections on the time around October 26, 1975

    Hey ’30!

    How are you today? I’m feeling fine. Tomorrow, I’ll be 67 years old. Just back from a nice family getaway.

    On the drive home, my mind turned to how things looked on my 17th birthday and why did I even go to the Coast Guard Academy?

    To start, you need to know that I’m a reader and always have been. More than most, I am influenced by what I read. This explains a lot about my state of mind on October 1975 and why I was drawn to CGA.

    The news and commentary were generally bad those days. We had lost a war for the first time, our president had resigned after being caught in illegal campaign interference and arrogant coverups, and it appeared that we would run out of energy resources by the end of the century. It was an election year, but neither choice inspired hope. I seriously considered whether the best thing to do would be to move to the woods and live off the land.

    But there were books that inspired me to reach higher. The Caine Mutiny, dark as it is overall, painted a picture of academy (USNA) life that seemed compelling in a certain way. I had always been a reader of adventure and military history, so this resonated with me. The book that really influenced me was more visual, though: a Tide Rips yearbook in my high school guidance library. The bright primary colors of the uniforms, brick buildings, water, white cutters, and cadet cars were sending adventure. The missions of the Coast Guard were also calling; I could believe in them. I still do. I had actually seen the Coast Guard in action responding to the Mississippi River floods of 1973. I figured that helping people in that way would lead to a better life than stewing about the state of the world all by myself. It was a good decision.

    I’m glad that I wasn’t the only person to hold on to hope. The following years brought many good things, it turned out. I really enjoy digital photography, Spotify, and my goofy Goldendoodle dog, Leo. There was a lot more oil in the ground than we were told, and over time many other forms of energy have become economical. The political funk was bad in the late ’70s, but it eventually passed, and America re-invented itself, as it has many times. The military regained its footing and again became a source of pride. I was honored to be part of that.

    My birthday that year would probably have included Mom’s pot roast and a cake decorated for Halloween. It was my last one at home, it turned out. I played on the high school football team, and we were on our way to a winning season, which culminated in a Turkey Day last-ditch win over our arch-rivals. I was in a theatrical play written and performed by the physics students for a beloved teacher. It was called “The Fig Connection” (fig as in newton.) Glory days.

    Tomorrow’s celebration involves a nice meal with my family, possibly including truffle fries (which didn’t exist in 1975.) Back home, we’ll have carrot cake decorated for Halloween and open presents. My stepdaughter (the one who is your age) asked for my shoe size. Will they be crazy or cool?

    Anyway, have a good one yourself.

    Your pen pal,

    Birthday Bob

  • The Way We Were (LITC3)

    Reflections on the time around October 20, 1975

    Dear ’30,

    In ’80, we were trained to say this: “I am waiting for my classmates, sir.” Sometimes, this was recited while standing at attention. More often, in a position termed “front leaning rest.” Pretty much the plank position. We remained in that posture until the missing classmates arrived.

    I suppose the purpose of this training/hazing was to emphasize that we are to move as one. No one heads out on a mission until the whole team is assembled.

    Well, the lesson stuck with me. I was planning to write about a different topic, but my classmates brought up the topic of cursive handwriting, and we move as one.

    What happened is that I posted in our Class of ’80 Facebook group to let everyone know that I am starting this blog for you. To illustrate, I took a picture of the notepad I am writing on right now. One classmate said, “It’s in cursive; they’ll never be able to read it.” I explained that this is just my preferred method of composing a draft. For me, the ideas flow better with pen on paper, but the blog will be typed and posted online. Another classmate responded, “No, Bob! Keep it in cursive. It’s stylish and soulful.” He thought you would enjoy the challenge of reading old-school style.

    What do you think? Obviously, you are reading this in typed form. But if you agree with Classmate #2, I have an offer for you. Drop me a comment below, and I’ll send you a hand-written letter. Maybe we could become “pen pals.”

    This brings up a theme I hope to develop in my blog – the difference between the analog way of life and the current digital approach. The Class of ’80 witnessed the transition from one to the other. The Class of ’30 has only known the latter. That’s okay, it’s not your fault, and I don’t suggest turning back the clock. I just want to share the richness of the old ways. There does seem to be an interest, judging from the resurgence of vinyl.

    The thing I miss the most is the freedom of not being connected, not being prompted by algorithms, not being able (expected) to access information in an instant. It’s hard to describe how much more relaxing that was, even though it was also less convenient. Navigating to a new place required reading a map, which usually meant getting lost at least once. But getting lost also could mean finding something cool that you didn’t even know was there. Like that, there was more time to think before replying to someone who was communicating with you. After receiving a letter, you had time to mull things over, to sleep on it. The tangible letter sat there on your desk as an analog prompt unttil the words came, and then you took out pen and paper to write them down. It was slower, much less efficient, but yes, more “soulful and stylish.”

    Would you like to give it a whirl?

    Robert

  • Who Are You (LITC2)

    Reflections on the time around October 16, 1975

    Dear ’30,

    If you’re still reading, thank you. I appreciate you.

    Maybe you want to know who I am? Good question. I’m still trying to figure that out. But I’m closer to the answer than I was when I arrived in New London in June 1976.

    Meet me in a coffee shop and you’d probably think, “Just another old guy.” Hey Boomer. Maybe you might think I’m a little more smiley 🙂 than the other geezers. There’s a reason why I smile. No, it’s not drug-induced. My challenge to you is to keep reading my blogs and figure out where that comes from.

    At the Academy, I started out as a marine science major. Then, I switched to civil engineering after I got a “C” in marine biology. It was a good that I switched because engineering came easy to me, and I graduated near the top of the class, at least in academic terms. More on that later.

    My nickname at the Academy was Deacon Blues. It’s from a song by Steely Dan, one of my favorite bands. It fit me at the time, but not so much anymore. The song is on our ’80 Chase Hall Soundtrack on Spotify, if you want to check it out.

    On billet night, I chose an engineering assignment on USCGC Chase, WHEC-718 (No Challenge Too Great), which was home-ported in Boston. I didn’t have much competition for that billet. One reason I chose it was because I didn’t have a car and didn’t want to buy one. Un-American, I know. Also, my best friend from high school was going to grad school at Harvard at that time.

    Fast forward to 2025, and I am still a civil engineer. I hold a professional engineering license in California, Kansas, and Illinois, where I now live. My current role is the general manager of water production for the City of Decatur, IL, a job I enjoy very much.

    But is that who I am? It’s a clue. I believe identity is found at a much deeper level, and I hope to share some stratigraphy as we go forward.

    Enough about me, though. One of my reasons for this blog is to help you answer that question for yourself. As you read my ramblings, compare and contrast. Would you have made the choices I made? Why? What do you think about how mine turned out?

    Also, I would encourage you to write down your reflections in a journal. I’ve done that most of my life. As a cadet, it helped keep me sane. Another reason to journal is that it will come in handy when it’s your turn to keep the Link in the Chain going.

    Kind regards,

    Deacon

  • My Old School (LITC1)

    Reflections on the time around October 14, 1975

    Dear USCGA Class of 2030,

    My name is Robert Weil. Along with my classmates from CGA ’80, I welcome you to the Link in the Chain program. As part of that, I’d like to share my story with you. My hope is that it makes the path easier for you as well as being a fun read.

    I have a stepdaughter who will graduate from high school in 2026, like many of you, which makes it easier for me to imagine what you may be like. She doesn’t have much time and has absolutely no interest in things that are boring, so I’ll do my best to keep it light. I aspire to be a writer in the future. Thanks for the chance to practice.

    Are you deep in the Common App right now? We are. Essays, grades, test scores, letters of recommendation…so much fun. The good thing is that we’re all in it together. The college list and the choice of majors have been moving targets for us over the past few months, but it’s finally getting squared away, and that feels good. If you’re reading this, USCGA must have come out on top of your list. Good choice.

    I was just back at the Academy for our 45th reunion. For reasons I’ll share with you as I tell my story, I was my first reunion, but it won’t be the last. Getting back there after all this time, I left with a deep gratitude for the positive ways the CGA experience shaped my life. It was hard, but it was worth it. Part of my motivation for this writing project is to count the ways I’ve been blessed it all.

    I plan to relive my Academy experience in parallel with your journey. Right now, I’m remembering the selection process. During your swab summer, I’ll reflect on my swab summer. By the time you graduate, I will have sorted through it all. Unless I get Alzheimer’s first! JK. I’m pretty healthy, and I work at staying that way.

    If you can add a comment or a question to my blog, that would be great. But I know how busy you are, so don’t sweat it. Just take what you can from the blog when you get time. It’ll be there for you. Maybe it will still be floating around in cyberspace for the Class of 2080!

    Kind regards and Semper Paratus,

    Robert Weil, CAPT, USCGR (ret)