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Septiembre 25, 2005
Your soar where others merely waddle
Is the saying on a card Dorothea bought as a congratulations card for someone. Liam saw the picture, pointed to the flying penguin, and said "That's Thomas!" and noted that there were twelve penguins (corresponding roughly to the number of siblings?)
Posted by David at 08:17 PM
Septiembre 20, 2005
Tim's recollections
I live in Clotho so Thomas, who never lived here while my family was here, was sort of a spiritual neighbor. The first time I met him was probably about 1987 when he walked down to our strawberry field in Clotho from the Hansmeyer house. That's a pretty long walk but he had little Tony and Monica in tow and they picked some berries and we made a new friend.
I actually don't remember the details of the next few years but we kept in contact pretty regularly. Once, when Thomas was in Colombia, we got a letter from him. It was addresed, "The Kings" "Clotho" USA. You tell me how that got here? It was pure Thomas to send something like that.
You all know he went of to do his undergraduate work at the U of M in soils. But what you don't know is what a name he made for himself when he became a research assistant with the guy who was studying earth worms. With sustainable farmers Thomas became the guy to call to talk about worms. Of course he loved soil profiles. Ask him and he'd dig a five foot hole in your field and discuss with anybody willing to listen what all those marvelous stripes were in the soil profile. Then he'd probably laugh at himself for being so crazy. But his love for the life of the soil was infectious and broughtv joy and understanding to many a farmer.
Thomas and the work-a-day world didn't get along too well, I don't think. When he got out of college he went to work for Stearns County SWCD. There were some pretty vicious people over there. He came to our house one evening crying his heart out. He cried so hard I never quite knew what they did to him. We went to a movie with my wife and son and he felt better. But he never went back there.
I never knew why he felt he should go back to the University and get his masters degree. I felt the U was like the SWCD. But Thomas maybe understood stuff I didn't. There were some great people in the soils department -- like Dave Huggins and Deborah Allen - and Thomas really got into what they were thinking about and about new ways of doing research. Thomas and I traveled around southwestern Minnesota a little. I remember one long day of visiting farmers. Thomas loved asking farmers what they thought about their soil. He'd touch it with them, smell it, walk around a field with them, and listen to them. Soils experts just don't normally respect dumb farmers. Thomas did. One night we ended up at the Calumet Inn in Pipestone. For a couple hungry country boys it was a pretty nice night out. Then we drove over to Lamberton to stay with Dave Huggins. He and Huggins talked for hours about carbon ratios and soil quality and porosity until I dropped out of my chair. They didn't even see me fall.
Thomas' thesis really challenged the scientists. It was so agro-eco-socio. They just knew you couldn't count it. I think he really challenged them and some of those good people were ready to be challenged. He invited me to be on the review committee for his oral presentation. That was very strange since I didn't want to criticize him or judge him and since I didn't know how that stuff works.
That was the last time I saw him. I'm not sure what happens to friends and why we grow apart. I have missed his friendship for somes years and miss it more for knowing I'll not have it back. But I did have it and was enriched by it.
One other thing. Maybe somebody found a girl Zapatista doll in his stuff. I bought that for him one warm January night in the market in Tuxtla Gutierrez, Chiapis. When I came back to the airport in Minneapolis it was late and really cold. I didn't have a jacket and was worried. Thomas came walking down the long empty concourse. He was wearing a warm jacket and had one in his arms for me. Thoughtful guy. I showed him the doll. He laughed
Tim
Posted by timk at 08:28 PM | Comments (3)
Redemption Song Lyrics (Bob Marley)
This is the Bob Marley song that was played as we exited the chapel on September 10, 2005. We knew we wanted to end with Reggae and Thomas' roommate Tom McCadden made a special trip that morning to a music store to buy the CD that had this specific song on it.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind...
Old pirates, yes, they rob i;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took i
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the ’and of the almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won’t you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
’cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
’cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? ooh!
Some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfil de book.
Won’t you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
’cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
---
/guitar break/
---
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! have no fear for atomic energy,
’cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfil de book.
Won’t you help to sing
Dese songs of freedom? -
’cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.
Posted by beauty at 01:48 PM
Thomas and Beauty at the Bean Factory, August 28, 2005
Thomas and I had a full and wonderful day together this day.
We met my friend Ruth for breakfast at Victors (I recommend it!), then took a motorcycle ride through the chain of lakes and Theo Wirth Park (with Ruth). Just after 1p we came to hear Gemma Kirby's violin recital at the Bean Factory coffee shop at Randolph and Saratoga in St. Paul. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and hot. Thomas was looking so handsome in the new silk shirt that I had bought for him in NYC the previous weekend--but he was too hot with the layers, so is pictured here (equally and always beautiful!!) in a white t-shirt. My simple farm boy (we all know better!). Thomas met Jane Kirby's parents that day. He and Jane's father struck up a conversation that could have lasted hours--both having grown up on farms.
Later that day Thomas gave me my first frisbee lesson. Thank god for his amazing patience--anyone else would have given up on me or made fun of my complete lack of ability. He was his usual respectful and encouraging self and actually had me throwing straight inside of about 10 minutes. A miracle.
Posted by beauty at 01:21 PM
Septiembre 19, 2005
LIfe is circles.
Thomas was a student of the world and also a wonderful teacher. Over the years, I learned so much from him. I learned about yoga, patience, gardening, music, all sorts of things. He always talked about life being circles, everything was a circle. I find it beautifully fulfilling that he did live his life with so many circles of friends, families, neighborhoods, churches, classes, communities. His funeral was such a beautiful expression of his lifestyle. Every person there seemed hungry to know more about Thomas' other circles, to connect with his vast networks of friends and family.
I met Thomas at First Avenue Night Club through a mutuial friend Jay. I was struck by his gentle demeanor and kind heart. I hoped he might want to work for the company I work for (Hammer Residences) serving people with developmental disabilities, but the group homes were too far west in the twin cities to be a realistice commute choice for him. I knew he was the kind of person who could embrace the difficult work of serving vulnerable adults. We became fast friends, and so he entered into my circle of friends, many whom also work in group homes.
One weekday in the fall of 2003, he came to my house in Robbinsdale early in the morning. We loaded up my canoe and gear so he could teach me how to collect wild rice. I had never collected rice before, but Thomas knew that my canoe was perfect for this because it was so flat on the bottom, not tippy at all. I had talked to him about wanting to learn how ricing was done. He knew a great little Rice Lake by 169 and CR 68. We collected a nice harvest that day. He wanted me to meet his wild ricer friend whose A framed house is up by Mille Lac Lake, but he was not home that day.
When I purchased my house in Champlin, Thomas encouraged me to put in a vegetable garden. I ordered a truckload of dirt, and when it came, the quality of it was poor, full of rocks and broken glass, not a single earthworm in it. Thomas was calm and soothing to me when I called and told him what I had bought, he stating he would teach me the "joy of composting." With that, I learned about amending soil with old food, coffee grounds, cardboard, duck doo, pulled weeds, all the things that I now recycle from my kitchen and yard that improve my soil. Use everything, waste nothing.
I could include 100 more stories, we had so many wonderfully fun times together. Halloweens in North Minneapolis, road trip to Duluth, Hammer's holiday party, Lucy's rocking chair, midnight mass at Saint Mary's, Toots and the Maytols, Moscow on the Hill, using two for one coupons. I am grateful for all the joyful times we had together, and I will deeply miss my dear friend.
Posted by ellen at 12:39 PM
Septiembre 17, 2005
Crowded train
So what's the big deal about a short (slow) ride on the back of a car?
Posted by David at 08:45 AM | Comments (1)
Septiembre 16, 2005
Poem for Thomas
I met Thomas through his sister Dorthea when he was 20 or so. For many years Thomas seemed to just show up. Our few interactions always seemed to be rich with manual work and thought verging on the profound. -Bob Stuber
Thomas Leo Hansmeyer
Thomas, Tomás, Leo, Wise Guy
everyone beautiful
perfect, good 'nuff, but
Wise Guy
who works
hard, plays
deep, pulls
nails, pushes
edges and laughs,
really.
Tomás, Leo
peasant
willing, dirt
hugging, worm
digging, tinker
fixing farmer
living, city
can do
any thing man—
not every thing,
really.
Thomas, Wise Guy
plants, plots
no plans but in thoughts
clear, crisp,
leverage, muscle
roots that don't take
won't let go—
Guy really Wise
really.
Posted by Bob at 11:21 PM | Comments (2)
Septiembre 15, 2005
Tribute to Thomas by his good friend Jim Matyas
Though I haven't seen Thomas for some time, he is an unforgettable friend. A few things that come to mind--quick of wit, introspective, a lover of the human race and the planet Earth, hard working, and inquisitive. There is no doubt those that worked with him, played with him, and all of those he encountered when doing his thesis will remember his ways--a beautiful legacy.
(click continue reading for words on smart productive pain and also words by Whitman)
CAPRICORN (Dec 22 - Jan 19) horiscope from City Pages, August 24, 2005.
Let's discuss the differences between dumb, unproductive pain and smart, useful pain. The former is the kind you keep being drawn back to out of habit. It's familiar and therefore perversely comfortable. The latter is the kind of pain that surprises you with valuable teachings and inspires you to see the world with new eyes. While stupid pain is often born of fear, wise pain is stirred up by love. The dumb, unproductive stuff comes from allowing yourself to be controlled by your early conditioning and from doing things that are out of harmony with your essence. The smart, useful variety arises out of a willingness to live passionately and with a sense of adventure. Can you guess which type I'm urging you to gravitate toward right now, Capricorn?
Whitman's Words Still Good to Live By: Advice for Poets and Americans;
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.
Posted by beauty at 04:39 PM | Comments (2)
Tribute to Thomas by his dear friend Dr. Matthew Miller
I first met Thomas when the Soil Science Department
hired him as a field assistant to work with me
on my doctoral dissertation FIELD research back in 1989.
And I don‚t mind telling you right now,
that if it hadn‚t been for Thomas
I might never have finished my research!
Thomas had unique abilities.
His family taught him to be hard working,
innovative, self-sufficient, and frugal.
He was able to save our research project money
by borrowing a trailer from his brother for the summer
to haul the field equipment.
Thomas liked the idea of camping at the research site instead of
staying in a hotel and eating at restaurants.
We spent the summer in tents, cooking our own food.
Thomas constructed shelters with tarps to protect us from the sun, rain and wind. Thomas had a knack for stringing the tarps and building things out of rope and next to nothing.
At the end of a hot day, he and I would jump in the lake to cool off.
Miraculously, the mosquitoes did not bite us in the evening,
for we had been swimming in Northern Minnesota‚s
brown-water lakes, rich in cleansing organic acids.
Thomas had a calm and peaceful presence.
Sitting around the fire on a starry night,
with the moon shining through the trees,
he and I would discuss our past successes
and future challenges in Spanish.
I loved speaking Spanish with Tomas.
Sometimes the Northern Lights would put on a show for us.
_____________________________________________________
As many of you know,
Thomas had some property near the home
of his sister in Watkins.
He purchased a house one mile away for $1.00
and had it moved to his property.
The restoration of the whole house, the barn,
and chicken coop was his labor of love for several years.
_____________________________________________
Thomas encouraged me to go hiking with his friends in Southern Utah.
We hiked along dry, river washes and explored rock formations.
And I will remember this about our Thomas:
He was a kind and compassionate friend.
Thomas would climb up on the rock,
look down at me with a smile,
and extend his big hand to lift me up,
which,
as you can see,
is no small thing.
He was like a brother to me,
sometimes older,
sometimes younger.
____________________________________________
Thomas made the world a better place.
He actively participated in soils research
at the Crandall Garden Farme.
Thomas planted a lot of trees, and
worked to make our rivers and lakes clean.
Thomas was instrumental in developing
unique soil erosion controls for the
Sandpiper Soil & Water Institute.
And this has made the soil humus grow
and the angle-worms very, very happy.
So, in remembering Thomas,
Let us love one another.
Go in peace together,
And thanks for joining together in this celebration of his life.
Posted by beauty at 04:33 PM
Ripple - Grateful Dead (played by Eric Miller and Ray at the Service)
If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music,
Would you hold it near as it were your own?
It’s a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps they’re better left unsung.
I don’t know, don’t really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.
Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.
There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.
Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.
But if you fall you fall alone,
If you should stand then who’s to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.
La dee da da da, la da da da da, da da da, da da, da da da da da
La da da da, la da da, da da, la da da da, la da, da da.
Posted by beauty at 04:23 PM | Comments (1)
Septiembre 13, 2005
Smiling Thomas pictures from Matthew's CD
So far, a few comments, and I have set several people up to be authors. As yet, things are kind of slow. But, I am hopefully. Whoo-who. With no further comment, here are some smiling pictures of Thomas from Matthew's CD of photos a la the collage that Matthew made. The sun salutation banner at the top of the blog was also from the CD.
Posted by David at 09:39 PM | Comments (1)
Septiembre 10, 2005
Safety Rule #7 -- Always wear your helmet
Officer Buckle and Gloria, by Peggy Rathmann, 1996 Caldicott Medal winner, is a book that neighbors gave as a birthday present to Madeline when she was five. It is one of my favorite books of all time. And it seems cosmically appropriate to Thomas, given how he died. So I share a bit of it here. Kind of poignant, kind of funny, kind of sad.
Officer Buckle goes to schools to give safety presents to students. These presentations were monumentally boring, as the consisted of him reciting numbered lists of safety rules. "Safety Tip Number One: KEEP your SHOELACES tied." Children got bored, didn't listen, fell asleep.
Then someone gave Officer Buckle a dog, Gloria, and they began giving the safety presentations together. Gloria would do funny stunts behind Officer Buckle while he was reading his lists; the crowds loved it. The safety presentations became hugely popular.
One day, the principal was standing on a swivel chair, holding a hammer, hanging a banner. She falls, drops her hammer, causes a catastrophe. A little girl gets hit in the head by the falling hammer. But, thanks to Officer Buckle--and Gloria--
Safety Tip #7: Always wear your helmet.
So, if only Thomas had been wearing his helmet. But, then, you can't always be wearing your helmet, I guess.
Can't always be wearing your helmet. Maybe the rule is don't sit on the back of moving cars. Yet, you can make all sorts of rules, and get to the point where, if you are following them, you are not living. Like why is it that so often it is the the bitter, angry, unhappy people that seem to live so long? If you aren't live, you're not taking chances. If you take chances, things happen.
Posted by David at 09:35 AM | Comments (1)
Septiembre 09, 2005
Porches
This evening, Dorothea and I went over to Thomas' house to sit on the backporch and have a cigarette in his honor. The backporch, with its wonderful rocking bench and view of fire pit and apple tree, was clearly the place. And, as Beauty has mentioned, sitting on porches was a big passtime for Thomas. That may be why he gave so much attention to adding a porch when he owned and was refurbishing the house he'd bought out in Central Minnesota near his sister Theresa's farm. I remember being there one night for a party when a group of musicians with drums, amps, and guitars played from the porch.
Posted by David at 11:20 PM | Comments (2)
Septiembre 08, 2005
Death brings life to life.
"Death makes life real. Death makes God true. Death brings death to all illusions. It is very interesting how death exists in this world. Death is called a void. Death is supposed to take everything away, to put an end to everything. Yet is is death that gives life to life. Deaths gives life to God. Death gives life to your heart..... Gurumayi says
The saints of India have always said there are only two things worth remembering in this world- God and death. No matter how you die, death says, "Wake up. O my dear one, wake up." Death makes you look at your own life: why you life, and more than anything else, what you are living for. If you know what you are living for, then you are truly living. If you have no idea what you are living for in this world, then your life can't even be called a living death- because in death there is awakening. In death, there is magic. In death, the heart comes alive..."
Gurumayi says
This is thomas spiritual practise.. This is what I need to remember today.
Posted by dorothea at 10:30 PM | Comments (6)
First entry
This is a first (and test) entry for the dragonfly blog. The idea for why there is a dragonfly blog is to honor the memory of Thomas Hansmeyer.
To post to this blog, you'll need to be an author. To be an author, email either mydorothea@yahoo.com or david.schons@comcast.net and we'll send you instructions.
This is the extended entry.
Posted by David at 10:19 PM