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This work is under copy right by
John E. Denison
John E. Denison
Everyone talks about
changing the world, no one
talks about changing
themselves.
LEO TOLSTOY
changing the world, no one
talks about changing
themselves.
LEO TOLSTOY
I used to be like a lot of people I was very clear on what
was going on, as far as what is wrong with the world and
how to make things better. Recently, I have come to
realize no ones knows as much as they think or say they
do and some of the people that should know are the ones
that are most in the dark. I have come to realize that much
of what is wrong is that individuals want to change
everything but themselves. The revolution can't only be
changing institutions it also has to be the way people think.
was going on, as far as what is wrong with the world and
how to make things better. Recently, I have come to
realize no ones knows as much as they think or say they
do and some of the people that should know are the ones
that are most in the dark. I have come to realize that much
of what is wrong is that individuals want to change
everything but themselves. The revolution can't only be
changing institutions it also has to be the way people think.
I was born right after the end of the Second World War in Germany. My mother was a German
girl that survived the war, my father was a young American GI she met in the end of 1946 at a
carnival in Nuremberg. Her and her friend and he and a buddy met rode the rides, hung out
like teenagers do, and the girls went back to a little town called Lauf. Dad went back to the
Barracks in Nuremberg.
But, dad was stricken he knew the name of the town, enlisted a buddy and the next weekend
pass they took the train and got off in Lauf. Lauf was not on the regular beaten path for Army
Personnel, but dad knocked on doors, asked everyone he saw in what must have been a very
mutilated version of German backed by a Mississippi accent. He found her street then he
found an apartment that he hoped would be hers. He knocked, a fiftyish German woman
opened the door. He asked does a girl named Elisabeth live here, she said "Liesbet kennst du
den Ahmy" (do you know this Army the Germans called Americans Ahmy because all the
vehicles said ARMY.
He broke his engagement with Wilma Ann back in Foxworth and began a 56 year long
relationship with the love of his life that produced three male children. My baby brother Mike
who is retired from a career in the Air Force and currently living with his third wife and high
school sweetheart (also the love of his life) in south central Texas, where he has a nice home
and works as a Quality Control Person. My brother Fredrick (we call Rick) lives in Germany with
his fourth wife, I don't really know what he does, he doesn't talk much to me or Mike.
Then there is me John (that is me when I was about 25 in the picture above I was a slick dick
hairstylist quite full of myself).
When I was growing up in my Grandmothers house in Lauf, the ladies would take part in a
German Ritual, coffee and something sweet about 2:30 in the afternoon. In my case several
women including mom, Oma (Grandmother) and some of their friends would share coffee while I
would sit under the table in the kitchen. This was a defining moment in my life, and much more
significant then it might sound.
When I got older and spent many years involved in the Civil Rights Struggle, Ministry and
Political Activism I also became a Substance Abuse Counselor during that time I came to realize
what these coffee gatherings really were. They were support group meetings, my Mom,
Grandmother, and their friends had been traumatized by the their experiences during the Rise
and Fall of the Third Reich.
I sat under the table and listened while these women told their stories, my Mom told how Herr
Goldmann who would leave his shoes on the landing with a ten pfenning piece in them and she
would shine them for him and how he had came to supper and how there was a commotion on
the stairs and when her Dad looked out Herr Goldmann was being taken out by men in
uniforms. When she spoke out loudly what could he have done he was always such a nice man,
her father (my Grandfather) squeezed her hand firmly and muttered shut up Liesbet. Then
when my Grandfather Fritz Stoer was inducted in his late 40's because they were running out of
men and how he was wounded in Belgium and died when the allies bombed the hospital. The
stories ran the gamut from tragedy to irony and back. But in the long run they effected me to
the core of my being, they were ever in my sub conscience sometimes surfacing influencing
decisions I made as I developed into the man I became.
I am sure much of why my extended family considers me somewhat of a Black Sheep because
I became ardently involved the Civil Rights Movement, as well as the Anti War Movement, and
spent so much time and energy trying to be a blessing to the less fortunate. I believe what
precipitated those decisions was what I experienced in my life seen through the eyes of
someone who heard those women and some one whose Grandfather died at the hands of the
Army his Father was a part of. Mankind must find a better way to handle his affairs.
John E. Denison
girl that survived the war, my father was a young American GI she met in the end of 1946 at a
carnival in Nuremberg. Her and her friend and he and a buddy met rode the rides, hung out
like teenagers do, and the girls went back to a little town called Lauf. Dad went back to the
Barracks in Nuremberg.
But, dad was stricken he knew the name of the town, enlisted a buddy and the next weekend
pass they took the train and got off in Lauf. Lauf was not on the regular beaten path for Army
Personnel, but dad knocked on doors, asked everyone he saw in what must have been a very
mutilated version of German backed by a Mississippi accent. He found her street then he
found an apartment that he hoped would be hers. He knocked, a fiftyish German woman
opened the door. He asked does a girl named Elisabeth live here, she said "Liesbet kennst du
den Ahmy" (do you know this Army the Germans called Americans Ahmy because all the
vehicles said ARMY.
He broke his engagement with Wilma Ann back in Foxworth and began a 56 year long
relationship with the love of his life that produced three male children. My baby brother Mike
who is retired from a career in the Air Force and currently living with his third wife and high
school sweetheart (also the love of his life) in south central Texas, where he has a nice home
and works as a Quality Control Person. My brother Fredrick (we call Rick) lives in Germany with
his fourth wife, I don't really know what he does, he doesn't talk much to me or Mike.
Then there is me John (that is me when I was about 25 in the picture above I was a slick dick
hairstylist quite full of myself).
When I was growing up in my Grandmothers house in Lauf, the ladies would take part in a
German Ritual, coffee and something sweet about 2:30 in the afternoon. In my case several
women including mom, Oma (Grandmother) and some of their friends would share coffee while I
would sit under the table in the kitchen. This was a defining moment in my life, and much more
significant then it might sound.
When I got older and spent many years involved in the Civil Rights Struggle, Ministry and
Political Activism I also became a Substance Abuse Counselor during that time I came to realize
what these coffee gatherings really were. They were support group meetings, my Mom,
Grandmother, and their friends had been traumatized by the their experiences during the Rise
and Fall of the Third Reich.
I sat under the table and listened while these women told their stories, my Mom told how Herr
Goldmann who would leave his shoes on the landing with a ten pfenning piece in them and she
would shine them for him and how he had came to supper and how there was a commotion on
the stairs and when her Dad looked out Herr Goldmann was being taken out by men in
uniforms. When she spoke out loudly what could he have done he was always such a nice man,
her father (my Grandfather) squeezed her hand firmly and muttered shut up Liesbet. Then
when my Grandfather Fritz Stoer was inducted in his late 40's because they were running out of
men and how he was wounded in Belgium and died when the allies bombed the hospital. The
stories ran the gamut from tragedy to irony and back. But in the long run they effected me to
the core of my being, they were ever in my sub conscience sometimes surfacing influencing
decisions I made as I developed into the man I became.
I am sure much of why my extended family considers me somewhat of a Black Sheep because
I became ardently involved the Civil Rights Movement, as well as the Anti War Movement, and
spent so much time and energy trying to be a blessing to the less fortunate. I believe what
precipitated those decisions was what I experienced in my life seen through the eyes of
someone who heard those women and some one whose Grandfather died at the hands of the
Army his Father was a part of. Mankind must find a better way to handle his affairs.
John E. Denison
I love this picture. My son in the same
river with lb for lb a very serious
predator. Of course a Grizzly is nothing
compared to man in the long run but in a
one on one my bet is on the Grizz.
My son, said others wanted to run he
figured she looked preoccupied why
sweat it?
river with lb for lb a very serious
predator. Of course a Grizzly is nothing
compared to man in the long run but in a
one on one my bet is on the Grizz.
My son, said others wanted to run he
figured she looked preoccupied why
sweat it?