You May Not Know… ~ #MondayBlogs

The summer that our daughter turned 17 she made plans to join a youth group trip to Poland and Israel. An acquaintance confronted me with genuine concern and asked “How can you let her travel to such a dangerous place?”

Although we definitely worried about our daughter’s trip it wasn’t because of the location, it was the idea that she would be so far away without us by her side to “protect” her. We knew how important this trip was to her and how much she wanted the experience. We also knew teens who had taken similar journeys in previous summers and even more parents who had let their children go, and we were filled with stories of wonder, happiness and thankfulness for the experience.

However I did repeat the concern to the trip organizers during a parent-prep meeting. The response certainly opened my eyes. The young man I spoke to visited Israel and other parts of Europe several times a year, sometimes as part of his job and other times simply to spend time with friends he made through the years.

“When I am overseas and strangers learn I am from the New York City area they always ask me what it is like to live in such a dangerous place. Because of the way the media presents things they believe we all carry guns, fight off attacks every day, step over bodies in the street regularly, and have to live in secure fortresses for any kind of safety.”

His response certainly made me pause. He then asked if I was in contact with people in Israel and suggested I ask them what they thought about a group of North American teens visiting Israel (and yes he offered me contact info for some of his friends. He thought if I needed reassurance I should speak to people who actually lived there instead of some media copy that only painted a picture that would sell.

Unfortunately the world we live in has far too many incidents of violence and tragedies, but most people, thank goodness, live and work in cities and towns all over. No one is immune to the POSSIBILITY of being in the wrong place at the wrong time (even at home), but does that mean we should freeze in our tracks afraid to experience life? Practicing caution and being vigilant is wise but closing ourselves off to new adventures and possibilities is, well, not living.

She went to Poland and Israel and there were a few incidents of “concern” (more for her nervous parents than her) but she came home thrilled for having gone and changed by the lessons she learned by seeing the different cultures. She’s been back to Israel since and loves to travel… wherever. Her latest goal is to visit every continent at least once. And even now years later, even when she is accompanied by people who love and care for her, I worry each time she takes flight.

Our son is another test of a parent’s nerves, his adventures involve some travel but are more geared to physical challenges (mountains, skydiving, oy vey!). It is so true that no matter how old our offspring are, they will always be our babies — we look at the very capable adult and still see the infant cradled in our arms.

Sometimes you have to just pray A LOT and hope for the best, but always let life happen.

Faith ~ #MondayBlogs

What is faith? Is it our religious belief or is it having the confidence that our fellow man will work in the best interests of humanity? Believing in something, someone, or ourselves is a basic human need. Belief is faith.

It seems that we are living in a world filled with hatred and fear, one in which man allegedly uses the name of a religion as a reason to destroy and spread hate. There are those who hide behind supposed commandments of their god(s) to spread ruin and there are those who hate others simply because of the deity they pray to. Some people believe in a supreme deity but do not agree with the tenets of organized religion (agnostic); some do not believe in any higher presence (atheist). A growing faction is yelling that religion is THE problem why men cannot get along with other men.

We can have faith in humankind without praying to a god by any name. Or we can follow the true teachings of our chosen religions – every religion is founded on common principles that include: loving thy neighbor; forgiveness; treating others the way we want to be treated; giving charity; honoring our parents and elders; being truthful; showing kindness; and living peacefully among our fellow man. While the phrases and wordings may differ, each religion shares commonalities with the others; some religions are monotheistic and some pray to multiple gods.

Every religion has members whose interpretation of its teachings are zealous and self-serving, most often those fanatics are in the minority although they may be loud. People who choose to practice a religion should do so because they believe in the spirit of their scriptures rather than simply following step-by-step rituals with no meaning behind our actions.

Rather than focusing on the differences in our religions practices or alienating those who call themselves agnostic or atheist, our need to believe in something makes us more alike than different. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if we could embrace that sameness and work towards fostering an atmosphere of peace and unity instead of viewing others with suspicion and hatred?

As a child of a Ham Radio Operator in the 60s and 70s I remember going to group get-togethers. One of the places that held an annual picnic was a Monastery located several miles north of where we lived. The monks that lived there and hosted the event were all very friendly, intelligent, welcoming and knowledgeable. I was amazed one day during a discussion with one of these men to find he was very proficient in Hebrew scripture and my own faith of Judaism. In adolescent surprise I asked him how come he knew so much when his religion taught otherwise. His answer was so simple — to truly understand your own beliefs you need to understand what belief means to people. Every monk, he told me, was schooled in all forms of theology and was required to be proficient in multiple religions.

Perhaps this type of education is needed for all of us so that we can love and appreciate our own convictions as well as understand and respect other belief systems. Somehow we must work towards unity and love of the entire human race or there will be no world and humanity for our future generations. Mankind is our own enemy when we allow hatred in our lives.

...

#TBT My love affair with EMS

I write about Emergency Medical Services

I wrote two EMS-based Novels, Final Sin and Hyphema

using many of my own experiences in Emergency Medical Services

 as an EMT for nearly 30 years

Nowadays I'm retired from riding the ambulance myself but both of my

offspring are career EMS so I still have an active interest in the profession.

I also wrote a self-help guide (FREE) called Until the Ambulance Arrives

Both Final Sin & Hyphema received accolades from EMS World

I'm also a freelance journalist, in addition to writing my novels,
and I've written a lot of articles about

Emergency Medical Services for magazines and newspapers

so I just thought I would share some of my other EMS writing with you...

In 2008 I wrote an article called In The Danger Zone for EMS Responder

 In March 1896, a fire destroyed the fire company headquarters in Ridley Park just outside of Philadelphia. At that time, the $300 insurance payment was sufficient to replace equipment lost in the blaze. The building, which also housed the town hall, was valued at and insured for $2,000. Maps, plans and stationery were lost in the fire. The (read more)

I've also been a columnist with

1st Responder News since 2006 writing about NYS EMS Issues

Our 1st Responders are on the line every day 

for our safety and well-being

despite the dangers that may be lurking for them.

They are on the front lines on our home front;
when we are in crisis we call and they come
and in times of disaster 1st responders are often
crucial to the recovery of a community.

Thank you all.

Thanks for taking this little trip down memory lane with me!

Hola Salud नमस्कार Goededag Cześć Bonjour Shalom 汝好 & Hello

Just an interesting tidbit...

Here are my most recent page views on this blog and where they come from:

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Obviously my blog travels better than I do...

Thanks for visiting!

Please leave a comment below and tell me where you are reading this from.

Without a Voice

After catching a bad upper respiratory infection (aka the common cold) I developed a severe case of laryngitis. This is not the scratchy throat and sound like a frog kind of affliction, this is total loss of voice – I cannot even grunt! I’ve been like this since last Sunday and while my husband is pretty much overjoyed, my doctor says I need to rest my larynx. Believe it or not even whispering puts a strain on the voicebox I have been unable to speak for the better part of a week and it’s been very frustrating.


An almost full week of silence got me thinking of women who are denied the opportunity to voice themselves. Some of the female characters I’ve included in my books have been denied the right to speak for themselves for one reason or another. In Bartlett’s Rule Paige was denied the right to say “No” when an ex-boyfriend viciously attacked her; In A Chaunce of Riches Samantha was blackmailed into silence about who she really loved; and in Hyphema Seudah was raised a Muslim Pakistani woman in a place where some women are still forced to hide behind veils and are not allowed to talk for fear of offending the men.


Although the things I’ve been able to do have been seriously curtailed without having a voice, I’ve been lucky to have friends and family who have been patient and willing to interpret hand signals, read hastily scribbled notes and crane to listen to a few whispered words. My silence has lasted a week and I have reasonable expectation of once again being able to talk for myself, hopefully soon. But what of those women who live lifetimes without the ability to say what is on their minds, to voice their feelings, to be heard and be allowed to matter.


This past week has given me a mere glimpse into their frustration. It is difficult to tell folks your needs when you can’t speak. In the United States the 19th amendment to the U.S. Constitution was signed, recognizing women's right to vote on August 26, 1920. There has been progress worldwide over the right of women to have voices about family, religion, politics and health. But there are still lands and social situations where women are not afforded the right to have a say. This is a subject that should concerns us all; when human rights are denied to any person(s) it is an affront to us all.


Read up on women’s issues at these sites:

http://www.now.org/ National Organization for Women (NOW)

http://www.un.org/womenwatch/ Womenwatch: A United Nations project

http://www.wedo.org/ Women's Environment and Development Organization

http://www.hrw.org/home Human Rights Watch

Chris Redding Hosted Me ~ Stories That Reflect the Real World

I was recently hosted by Chris Redding, Author -
sure hope you'll stop by and leave a comment!

Stories That Reflect the Real World

"Subject matter should matter and
when it evokes strong feelings and
discussion, I believe that I have
done my job as a writer." (read more)

http://chellecordero.com/

This is me...

It was a rainy day in April 1945 when my parents got married. A few years later, my sister was born; four-plus more years and several attempts later, my parents conceded that they weren’t destined to have another child. So, they blew the money they had saved for a new baby on a new (used) car and a vacation in the Catskills. That’s where I began…

I was raised in apartment 2D in the Bronx – our move to apartment 2G (in the same building) when I was eleven was a monumental change in my life as my parents moved off the sofabed in the livingroom into a bedroom of their own. My sister and I helped paint our new livingroom with one-inch wide paintbrushes – nothing was impossible.

Growing up was always an adventure for me, especially with an imagination as active as mine was. I remember three strangers to our neighborhood that mysteriously disappeared into the basement of the building next door on an almost daily basis. One day, a daring friend and I crept down after them to observe what they were doing. They had clips and wires coming out of the building’s telephone junction box! Convinced that we had discovered some huge international espionage plot, we were giddy with excitement. When they turned in our direction, we ran, frightened for our very lives. That was the last time we ever saw them.

As if I needed any encouragement into the world of make-believe, I studied Theatre Arts and Drama at the High School of Art and Design, Fordham University and the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. After some humble, probably annoying, pleading, I managed a nondescript and all too short walk-on in the movie “Plaza Suite” starring Walter Matthau and Maureen Stapleton (How many degrees to Kevin Bacon?). I appeared (very far off) off-off Broadway and did a summer stint as a lighting technician at the Lake Placid Center for Performing Arts. I also worked my way through college as an undercover retail fraud investigator.

My parents believed in mandatory community service although the choice of what we did was up to us. My sister was a Candy Striper at the local hospital, I joined the New York City Auxiliary Police at our local precinct – my dad was the Auxiliary Police Captain. That’s where I met my husband, at least REALLY met him. We had gone to the same high school (he studied photography) but my only vague memory of him was when he, in the guise of a by-the-book hall monitor, tried to prevent me from going to the backstage area to work on an upcoming play. True, it was between class periods and I didn’t have a hall pass, but the theatre students were used to making their own rules. Anyway, back to the Auxiliary Police… I thought he was an egomaniac snob, he didn’t care for me much either.

We kept getting assigned together as patrol partners and even though we built a terrific reputation as partners and seemed to communicate almost telepathically, I complained to our superiors. The Patrol Sergeant, the Lieutenant and the Captain (MY dad) kept pointing the finger at each other for the decision making process that kept throwing us together. A year and a half later, we had our first date; two weeks after that, we were engaged. He kidnapped me and refused to bring me home until I said yes, I figured I’d ask my father to beat him up. But when I told my parents that Mark had proposed, my dad clasped his hands together and said “Thank God!”

We settled in the suburbs less than an hour northwest of the city and began our family. Shortly after the birth of our daughter, I pursued a free-lance writing career and worked out of a home office. As a teen-ager I had written a few articles for a weekly Bronx newspaper and had since dabbled in poetry and pieces of prose just for the fun of it. After our son joined the picture, I managed to convince a few more rags to print my articles. This was about the time I had a weekly column as “Bonzo, the Ape” and shared profound thoughts on life. Since then, I’ve written more commonly as myself, sometimes conducting interviews (and trust me, you wouldn’t believe the things people sometimes tell you about themselves!), covering Grand Opening events, researching new trends and fashions, writing advertorials and business profiles, and just about anything else that will sell. I also spent a few summers teaching Creative Writing to kids in a local program.

Both my husband and I joined our local ambulance corps as volunteers and went on to become New York State Emergency Medical Technicians. I’ve helped to deliver babies, did CPR during codes, pulled people out of car wrecks, splinted broken bones, monitored the vitals of drug overdoses, stopped bleeding, and held patients’ hands enroute to the hospital. Both of our kids have followed us into the E.M.S. community and, often, dinner conversation at our table is not for the weak of stomach. Many of our friends are also involved with the local emergency services, medical and fire, and it isn’t unusual to have a festive holiday party empty out as soon as a pager goes off. The stories we swap are never boring.

My daughter and my son have justified every gray hair I’ve gotten. They’ve kept me on my toes, made me laugh, made me shake my head and cry, shared their dreams with me, allowed me to boast about them, and have each become a vital part of my inner circle of close friends. I've done the gamut of class mother, Girl Scout leader, Cub Scout mom, school parents’ association, and advisor in various youth groups. My favorite age has always been whatever age they were at the time. I love it when we hang out together or they invite me to go someplace with them and their friends. Both of our "kids" are terrific adults and I love following their various adventures.

I’ve always played a favorite game I call “What if?” whenever I see something unexpected, do something new, or hear about some adventure. I mentally place fictional characters into the setting and then I ask myself what if THIS happens, or THAT? By staying involved in my community, active with my family, reading avidly and even surfing on the Internet, I get a lot of fuel for my overactive imagination.

That means a lot of stories – please, join me

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/chellecordero Who is looking at my blog? (hello world!)

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Hello out there...

My Blog visitors come from all over the world
مرحبا شكرا لزيارتكم.
Hallo Vielen Dank für die Einstellung durch.
Bonjour Merci d'être passé par.
Ciao grazie per l'arresto vicino.
こんにちは来て頂いてありがとう。
Salamat sa paghinto sa pamamagitan ng.
สวัสดี ขอ ขอบคุณ สำหรับ การ หยุด โดย.
Hello. Thank you for stopping by.

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