The Plight of the Buffalo

My father is Jewish but is not orthodox, faithful, or "devout" in any way. My mother was Christian but although her grandmother was Catholic and Mom accompanied her to Mass a few times, her grandmother died young and that was basically the end of it. Both of my folks were hippies but that word also sounds a bit more magnanimous than it should. Although they ground grain in order to make the whole what flour to create homemade whole wheat bread, had a massive garden and orchard, collected bunches of apples off of the ground and then bonked them in a cider-press to prepare gallons of apple juice, and boiled maple sap off of trees in my great grandparents' woods to order to produce maple syrup, I would categorize them more as folks who needed to feed five kids and who "lived off the land." They never went to Woodstock or lived in a commune although Mom breastfed all of us and had five natural deliveries at home. We've had a healthy, morally-sound life. I am eager to mirror my parent's beliefs. What I'm trying to convey is that, due to many factors which constituted my life, I couldn't claim Jesus as my savior. Actually, I can't say that he is anything more than a cool dude who is purported to have done some cool stuff.

As we were hippies, as a very small child, my young parents traveled lots. However, as stated, there are five of us and eventually life's mysteries were replaced with life's realities. We settled on an acreage outside of a small town in a rural state, where safety, pollution, and crime issues were minimal. Naturally, diversity and the benefits that usually come with it were also minimal and there was a smattering of people with different skin pigments, but the vast majority of the population was Caucasian Christians and the normal delineating factor was whether one was Protestant or Catholic.  However, this wasn't the Dark Ages and there was no inquisition or overwhelming disgrace or anything. We just didn't go to church and that was somewhat common. So when our classmates and friends strictly adhered to the rules of lent, attended Sunday school, or spent a week at a religious camp, ate whichever type of meat which was most plentiful, assumed ash should stay or the ground and celebrated Sunday by devouring Dad's homemade waffles with maple syrup. As there were seven of us, it should be completely understandable that I don't recall that we longed for a community. After learning of how closed-minded and simple our small town is in relation to the larger, more progressive place where I currently reside, that fact doesn't bother me in the least. Although we not too involved in much of the community or found a locally supportive society, we kids were kept safe and flourished on our land outside of my small town.

About twenty-eight years ago, I was in an almost fatal car accident which led to a month-long coma and I now have a traumatic brain injury.  College and even graduate school were completed my but after getting the degrees, my family and I made a basic realization.  l needed many more services and stimulation than were locally available. Thus, I made my home in a larger town which was about two hours from my hometown.  A younger brother was situated in that new place and my only sister was getting her undergraduate degree there so the transition and quest for housing was relatively simple. As is common with most university towns, Iowa City, is extremely liberal and progressive.  Additionally, while there are a few others, the University of Iowa, is the primary public university  the state. It attracts an array of students from all over and because it currently contains both a prized writing program and a hospital, it is internationally famous. Therefore, hundreds of diverse, intelligent, multi-cultural people live both temporarily and permanently within the city limits. Thus most places of worship in this town reflect that. Because my church (actually, it isn't even called a "church," it's called "a society") is non-denominational and welcome to people of all or even no religions and backgrounds, it is multifaceted to the extreme.

After my siblings left town, my parents bought me a tiny house about a half mile from downtown and it was at about that time that I began visiting a few churches. Although my disability mandated that most of my time in public be done from within an electric scooter and this made my appearance and persona, in general, somewhat daunting and unattractive. Additionally, Iowa City is, of course, located in Iowa, a state which is extremely traditional. In this case, what I mean is that relationships, friendships and even first marriages are begun in college. I attended undergrad near Boston and in Illinois. In the end, I didn't have many local friendships and since I have always been an extrovert, I sought that.  Please don't mistake any psychological "need" as a reason that I was seeking a church.  Membership is guaranteed once one pays dues and patrons of every church I have ever visited are kind, welcoming, and compassionate. However, remember...I am proudly the daughter of a man who is JEWISH. To this day, he doesn't take much of an interest of what is involved in anything related to church seriously and has only attended the occasional service because he didn't want to stay in the car and I needed a ride.

As usual, I digress. As is natural, at the age of about thirteen, I felt the need to "fit in" and join with the majority of my peers. Coincidentally, at the same time, my Dad was involved in the local tennis program. One of his opponents in our town's league was Reverend Russ Fate, a very kind and thoughtful man who questioned if I would ever have an interest in participating in his church's youth group. Since around first or second grade (I'm neither interested in or familiar with most aspects of Christianity), most of my friends discussed things like Sunday school, communion, catechism, etc. While this mention of youth group didn't seem as powerful a force as "communion, " at that age in life, I was free on the afternoon it met. Russ said that a boy in my class attended and his parents could be relied upon to give me rides. As my father owned and operated a small business and my mother was busy gardening and caring for my four younger siblings, they weren't concerned with my rather brief involvement with this church. Honestly, I'm not even totally certain Dad knew of it. The other students in the youth group were fine and not terribly exciting. Later, I found out that the whole thing was done in order to confirm us, but I didn't really care. After a few months, they had us come to service on a Sunday morning and somewhere in that church's historical record, there is proof that I was a member of the United Church of Christ.

From then on, in my tiny hometown, until I went away to college, whenever I attended church, it was at that one. The congregation was progressive, kind, and I don't recall hearing anything with which my parents would disagree. I have no memory that the bible was studied or even used. As I was a young teen, I knew nothing of the Old or New Testament or, for that matter, anything of the beliefs of Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhisms, the Amish, Druids, or of any religious discipline. It was the United Church of Christ.  I have never believed in anything which my parents' don't. Now, it's just funny that I attended. It's ever more ludicrous that I was confirmed, but the humor of my history with religion doesn't stop there.

In grad school, I met a friendly woman, Val, who was heavily invested in an Assembly of God church. My experience with her and with the entire process of attending her Sunday services pretty much expunged me of wonder whether Christianity was for me. My studies, classmates, and general environment were pretty uncomfortable during that time. With some assistance from the University's students with disabilities program, classwork was made more manageable, but I was incredibly lonely. Hence, my sense of "needing to belong" and quest for friendships was strong. I let Val take me to Bible Study and even dutifully attended service with her. Of course, I had never attended an AG church before that time and I have not since nor do I have an iota of knowledge of how prevalent the customs, rules, and format are on a national basis, but at the time, I was dismayed and fairly incredulous that many of these folks could take the beliefs seriously. During Bible Study sessions, I learned that these people were expected to unquestionably take on a set of correct rules and regulations. As I have always questioned authority, fully adopting and living by the sayings of a man who supposedly lived a couple thousand years ago who was supposedly the megaphone of the creator of life. Additionally, there was the simple fact that I was to trust and devote my love and trust to this man to an even larger degree than to my own father. Incredible. Being just a guy, Dad has his faults and all, but he's definitely lives by a pretty intense moral code and he and Mom gave me and saved my life. Just the mandate that we love someone more than our own parents was incredibly ridiculous dogma. I am confident that there are many who do not have such a deep, strong, faithful exchange of love with their parents, but to be instructed that this should be everyone's reality was, to me, not credible. After that particular service, I was just done.  Happily, I had a sweet experience at the United Church of Christ in my hometown, so I never entirely gave up on Christianity or, at least of finding a church...I was simply bruised.

So, while I had a garnered a bad taste toward Christianity, I suspected that with a more ardent search, I might find a community where I could find ways of spreading the love I had received. I attended services at a couple local chapels. As luck would have it, the closest religious facility to my house was of a Catholic denomination and since several friends and classmates followed that religion during junior high and high school, I had enough information on that faith to hold me back. As I had gone through a very positive time at the United Church of Christ, I briefly considered giving it a go but quickly realized that I probably should stay away from a place which celebrated Christ to the extent that he played a role in the name.  As a rule, after one becomes disabled or deals with a traumatic event, religion plays a larger role. Due to that exact reason, I was reluctant to worship to anything.  I'm not reborn and I was never reinvented. While I'm happy to be alive and would even consider myself "delighted" on occasion, there was certainly no parting of the heavens, major personality shift or reinvention.  Understandably, I am grateful, but I am also a well-educated, white, American...I think that goes with the territory. If you could see images of my car following the accident, you would immediately understand that I am fortunate to be alive at all but certainly wasn't conscious enough to assume that I'd "seen a white light" or any malarky.


While riding on the city bus, I noticed a sign promoting a group that met on Sunday which left me with a positive feeling regarding a body of people who met on Sunday morning and coincidentally, although downtown, it was relatively near my place. It was called the Universal-Unitarian Society and after only one experience with them, I suspected I'd found a good fit. The attendees were super friendly and welcoming (although that is the customary tradition at every church I've ever attended), the service was positive, the female reverend (Nancy Haley) seemed smart and kind, the children of the congregation were pretty adorable, and the others at the service looked a bit less concerned with their appearance. I guess there were snacks after the and probably a choir but I have no recollection of either. My primary two memories of that day were that there was an accessible entrance in the rear of the building (understood but undesirable and common) and that the words "God" and "Christ" were not used during the entire service. Honestly, the fact that those words were not included that morning struck me as a huge sign that I should return. The exact sermon wasn't given in such a way to make it memorable, but I do recall telling myself to pay attention to the message as by that time, I had deemed that I would return. Toward the end of the service, the offering basket was passed around and it was announced that, as was customary, the gifts would not go directly to the society because the annual pledges satisfied building upkeep, the minister's salary, and "routine costs." Actually, the church has previously chosen several local service organizations to receive the funds. They walked the walk.  Plus, the entire atmosphere was low key, calm, positive and accepting.

Not only were folks silent when it came to God and Jesus, but the Bible was not mentioned. I loved that fact! Naturally, along the path to maturation, I had heard certain passages and quotes from that book but only sometimes did these make sense to me. As a little hippie kid, I was naturally quite fascinated with the lives and times of the larger, more mainstream culture who even created a special group to study this text. However, once I became more educated, explored the world, and took the opportunity to study the book, the more I realized that a good life is easily achievable regardless. When there is a board game with various standards, commands, pieces and paths, the outcome of enjoying the game is easy to achieve when even the players ignore the rules and create different paths. It's nice when the pieces are used and the players stick together, but even that fact isn't essential. The beliefs of this caste of people were not weighed by any one outside source. The rules of this game seemed to be based on service to each other and the planet.

As a newcomer to the society, I was presented with its many groups to explore and for which to volunteer; Buddhism, membership in one of the Dinners of Eight, Social Justice, Secular Humanism, teaching Religious Education.  A few times a year, a session is offered titled Welcome Home Wednesdays and in it about five courses are offered and each follows a dinner. Often a professor or a retired professor teaches an eight week course.  Examples of classes offered (some of which I have taken) are; Building Your Own Theology, Transcendentalism, Tai-Chi, and The Plight of the Buffalo. Actually, the last class mentioned was not offered but a friend said it was the title of a class given at a Unitarian church a friend attended. Although a variety of professions are represented at the society, the undeniable majority of the members do something with education.  For example, my closest friend at the society has her masters in Education and home-schools her four children while the woman who drives me on Sunday mornings (another issue surrounding my disability is the inability to operate a vehicle) was a librarian for about forty years. Therefore, I don't believe that there was ever a shortage of instructors. Often when I watch or speak with my fellow congregants, I am routinely overtaken with how proud I am simply congregate on a weekly basis with many of those from this society

A year or so before my attendance at Iowa City's Universal Unitarian Society, my brother turned pro. Although the game of football is, just that, a game and I have little need to even include it in this piece surrounding my church, it is now definitely part of my life and had it a small role to play in my beginnings with the Universal-Unitarian experience in Iowa City. I will attempt to spell this out with as much brevity as I know how. As I have three very athletic younger brothers and a father who was 6'6' in his prime, my youngest brother and sister were the main individuals to inherit my father's height. Mom could never be considered "tall" (at 5'4") but she has always been broad, strong and muscular. Additionally, her family was always into athletic competitions and the status that often comes with a good level of achievement at them.  Since, there were three boys with only two years separating each of them from the one prior, they were constantly outside playing "ball" and all got very good. The youngest, Sage, transferred his height and all the know-how and skills he's gotten from my Dad and his two brothers and became an quarterback at one of Iowa's publiionc university's and an NFL quarterback, a job which he held for twelve years. When that happens in a rural state which does have much notoriety, the individual's name gets to be fairly well-known, especially when he has parents who were hippies and has an unusual name. Follow? Well, whether or not all of that is clear, a few men of the congregation took note of my last name and inquired, very casually and innocently, if my brother was the one who played. As Iowa City is fairly small and few individuals utilized a scooter, word seemed to quickly circulate in the town at large that the young woman in the scooter had this brother, but in my church, this fact was not the case. As I was Sage's lone sibling who remained in the state, the issue was pretty overwhelming and, honestly, the Society was my refuge. Most congregants are educated and factors such as involvement in the community or finding ways to be of service; locally and globally. The rest of my younger siblings open enrolled in a larger high school after I graduated. Mine, while public, was rural and too small to support certain activities, football being one of them. Following high school, I attended my grandmother's alma mater, Wellesley College in Wellesley, Massachusetts, an all women's college. We had rugby, basketball, and competed in some league in tennis but we certainly did not have a football team. Thus, I did not know and still do not know many rules, game plans, plays, aims of the various positions, or general details of the game.

As stated, I have a traumatic brain injury and was in a coma for about thirty days and still suffer penalties for driving on an icy highway. Although he was fairly young, Sage also has a good idea of the probable outcome of what results when your brain in hurt to the degree that thirty days of sleep is necessary to heal to reach consciousness. However, my wreck took place when my family wasn't so cognizant of all of the statistics, charts, and warnings as there are now. Additionally, since my brothers have all played and excelled at various types of ball since they were about five years old, the progression of leagues and competitions was just gone through and mindless. Plus, my family and community are so attracted to sports that once Sage was offered a full ride to play football, the offer wasn't exactly frowned-upon. When he was drafted by the Washington Redskins, the earning-potential pretty much drowned-out any voices not to join. After the Redskins, he was traded to the Miami Dolphins and thus his career as a backup quarterback was begun. Anyway, he was young when the decision to play was begun and when we're young, we habitually assume that we are invincible...Anyway, the point of bringing up this fairly tumultuous time of my life in this piece is just to point out that I appreciated having the little pocket of escape that the church gave me. Fundraisers, classes, auctions, were constantly occurring...my friend, Mirium was staying overnight in ditches to try to prevent the construction of oil pipelines; another friend, Kasia, barely escaped the bombing which occurred during the Boston marathon and my parents were convinced to sponsor the lifelong education of a child from Tibet. Although I immediately deemed it impossible, some women from the society flew to the border to assist in helping the thousands of children of immigrants, most of whom were living in detention centers, the innocent victims of Donald Trump's policies. Those are just examples of other big happenings in my church that put sports, in general, on the back-burner.


As one can already surmise, since my little "society" is composed of folks who do not want to live within the parameters of a rule-book, people who practice a variety of the faiths are welcome, as are folks who never practiced at all. There are no rules and there is no doctrine. Instead of following a "Bible," members of the Universal Unitarian follow seven principles and the list is more centered on celebrating self and promote the health of the world. As I have witnessed that when everything else is said and done, humans are much stronger than we know, the first principle collided with my personal knowledge. The second wants there to be justice, equity, compassion in all human relations. The third principle discusses the privilege of having an acceptance of one another and offers an encouragement of spiritual growth to others in our congregation. Our fourth principle discusses having a free and responsible quest for truth and meaning. The fifth relates to the r of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregation and with society at. The goal of peace, liberty, and justice for all constitute the six for the sixth principle and the seventh asks for a respect for the interdependent web of existence of all which we are part.


The state of Iowa is conservative and almost exclusively composed of small towns largely inhabited by citizens with closed minds but we have a supreme court which upholds the civil rights amendment. Because of that, legal same-sex marriage took place in this state before it did anywhere else. As these types of unions are accepted and celebrated in accordance with our principles, not only did we have same-sex weddings for a few individuals in our congregation, but from surrounding states would also come to our building for the same goal.  Partly out of sense of pride, partly out of a sense of curiosity, and partly out of a sense of community, I spent a particular Saturday afternoon at my society, giving a few simple directions of the appropriate rooms and being a witness to the nuptials of several couples who came over on a bus from St. Louis. After getting over the fact that these couples had to wed without being surrounded by family and friends and the fact that their wedding attire was stuffed in the same types of duffel bags we had for away games in high school, at the end of the day, I was simply amazed to have found a place which so closely mirrored my beliefs surrounding love, justice, and equality.

Almost all of the boxes were checked; a progressive and well-educated congregation, a relationship to the community based on service, well-spoken ministers, commitments to the natural world, a dedication to the youth , multiple evening gatherings where members brought yummy snacks, services to join all people in matrimony, witnessing the positive attitudes of the youth regarding both local and global service...almost every wish was fulfilled. With all of these professors running around, there was no expectation of "blind faith" or anything borderline non-factual. Honestly, what amazed me was that a church had so fulfilled me. After a few years of living in that little house, we decided that it would be wise for me to live downtown and while proximity to the society wasn't, honestly, a determining-factor in the relocation, my move made my attendance, especially at the society's nighttime classes and festivities likely. Years continued and while I was never thrilled about living in such a narrow-minded state with its drastic temperatures, my parents relocated to Iowa City, and I busied myself with the few friends I had made and this fantastic society.

I received my undergraduate degree from a college which is highly competitive to enter, but for a few reasons, that fact largely eluded me and my acceptance wasn't too difficult. My life, even with a disability, can be explained using those three words..."largely eluded me," but, again, I fell off topic. It was only once I was enrolled, in my dormitory, and speaking with friends that I realized just how difficult it was to be accepted to attend Wellesley. One of the devices that the admissions office uses in determining entrance is the SAT or the Scholastic Aptitude Test. Several firms exist with the purpose of increasing those test scores and, naturally, I was completely ignorant of these agencies. Honestly, I learned that I needed to simply take this exam the day before I to actually sit down with my number two pencil but that's a whole different story.  So at some point, this cute family joined my society and I orginally noticed them because, like me, the daughter had three little brothers.  It's a small congregation but, at the time, was even smaller and word quickly reached me that the father, Adam Ingersoll, ran a company who prepared students to increase their test scores. This type of business is huge now, but like I stated, the entire industry didn't even register to me at the time of my own testing. Consequently, upon meeting Adam, I was interested in his work. After meeting me, he largely seemed interested in making the facility easier for me to maneuver. As time went on, I learned the deep beauty and joy that occurs when an entire congregation fulfills its principles and make you the beneficiary.

About a year after the Ingersolls joined, my left knee began hurting and I went through a series of tools of medical intervention to attempt to relieve me. After consultation with my doctor and an orthropedic doctor, we learned that my years of crappy gait had eaten away the cartilage which surrounds the knee socket and the result without surgery would be complete, painful bone on bone friction.  My knee would need to be replaced.  However, the material used as substitutes didn't have a timeless shelf life and I was pretty young.  We were and still are, afraid that I was too young to get a replacement and implemented a large number of tools to postpone a knee replacement.  I got several Cortisone shots at the local orthopedic clinic, saw a chiropractor, I wore a TENS unit at thirty minute intervals throughout the day which applied little shocks of electricity, and even visited an acupuncture clinic. Someone even suggested we visit a clinic in Madison to get a partial but finally, a surgeon gave me a second opinion on a solution to the pain from my knee.  He offered the wisdom of getting it done in full-a TOTAL replacement-but there was no opening on his table for a year.

Sadly, there were several instances where it was apparent that the older, three-story building with its out-of-date elevator was not accessible.  In fact, it was harmful to me and anyone with a walk, cane, scooter, or standard wheelchair. There were a few instances when my knee would just give out. In the end, Adam convinced the entire congregation to implement its principles and enact our concept of radical hospitality to make a major change in our facilities. We sold our downtown property and bought land upon which WE BUILT A CHURCH. We constructed a gorgeous, one story facility which is said to be the most ecological in the state.

Please, don't misconstrue...the other members of didn't ignore my pain or anything. There was no lack of concern toward future needs.  There just wasn't a great vision or a realistic presentation of a plan. Adam Ingersoll not only had that vision but he conducted a number of meetings where he displayed diagrams and blueprints regarding possible future construction of a beautiful, one-level establishment. When it was decided that we needed a new facility, a whole team volunteered and took action. Plus, for the most part, my little society wasn't exactly privy to the issues surrounding my left knee and since I gamely took part in many of the classes, lectures, meetings, worship services, and celebrations that were offered to the rest of the congregation, I was never offended or anything. However, occasionally, I would witness someone needing an wheelchair, scooter, cane, walker or other device to ambulate from floor to floor and just silently wish that the elevator ran safely.  However, as sweet and positive as they are, wishes aren't solid or hard evidence of the support of a community. I found that sense in a church...the Universal Unitaritian Society of Iowa City.