The Blaisdell Blog

In the late 18 th century the French Revolution swept over Paris.   A large part of the revolution was centered on the power exercised by the Catholic Church, which was the state sponsored religion of France and, therefore, linked to the monarchy.   In the usual zeal of mob rule, the higher purpose of the revolution was soon subverted to the basest form of violence.   No one was safe.   Eventually the mob (as mobs always do) turned on its own and executed one of its architects, Maximilian Robespierre when they decided even he was not “pure” enough.               One of the victims of the revolution was the great Cathedral of Notre Dame.   The interior of the church was looted because nothing speaks to your dedication to truth and justice like stealing something.   More that two dozen statues on the church façade were decapitated, because nothing speaks to your dedication to due process like vandalism.   The mob massacred and jailed priests and nuns during the September Massacres o

I am one of the lucky people who had a great father.   He was a loving, good-natured man who never met a stranger.   When I was growing up, Mom was the law and Dad was the gospel.   He could always be counted on to make a joke of our foibles and give us a pass on minor infractions.   Mom, on the other hand, was sure that cutting us a break while young meant moral weakness later.   They were a good team, which, I am sure, is how nature meant it.   Parenting is a young person’s sport and a two-person job when possible.   Yes, I know there are plenty of great single parent homes out there, but it surely can’t be easy.               Fathers are frequently the least appreciated and acknowledged part of the parental team.   Studies have shown us that if you want to raise strong, independent daughters with a positive sense of self-worth, the presence of a loving, involved father is absolutely essential.   All children who have positive, sustained, daily interaction with their fathers st

I have been married twice and am lucky enough to love, admire and respect my in-laws in both cases.   I am particularly in awe of my first husband’s grandparents.   If you want to know what true grit looks like, look at Ellis and Lucille.             Their families came to the eastern plains of Colorado in covered wagons.   They settled near the sand hills of Wray, Colorado.   Here, Ellis and Lucille met, married, and started raising both wheat and a family.   The wheat failed, so Ellis took a job with the railroad.   One day, while loading heavy machinery, a chain broke.   A metal frame fell on Ellis.   It broke his back, paralyzing him from the waist down.   At the time of his accident Lucille was pregnant--again.   This was a time before societal safety nets.   When families fell on hard times, they depended on the largesse of friends and family.               To say that their lives were hard does not even begin to describe the situation.   The family lived on mush, fried m