IT’S A NATURAL SOLUTION

IT’S A NATURAL SOLUTION

My grandfather Ernest Romanzo Davidson was born a Scot in Quebec, Canada who emigrated to the USA and later became a Naturalized Citizen. He came to the USA looking for work. He was a caretaker.


IT’S A NATURAL SOLUTION

Make all legal immigrants from all countries living in the USA for five years, who are employed in the USA, Naturalized Citizens by decree, with all the rights and responsibilities of USA citizens. No other preconditions.

Make all illegal immigrants living in the USA for five years, who are employed in the USA, Naturalized Citizens by decree, with all the rights and responsibilities of USA citizens. No other preconditions.

When some say it isn’t fair to those who had to go through a program to become a citizen: Keeping fifteen million people underground was tantamount to imprisonment; that wasn’t fair either. Even if it was by their own design, we the people looked away, because they wanted us to.

For those illegal immigrants, it is in the National Security interest of the USA to make them belong somewhere to someone to some country. The best option, since they’re already here is to accept them as part of the USA family.

We the people should learn that we can’t keep looking away, just because someone wants us to look the away.

It is way too late, fifteen million people too late, to resist amnesty. In bulk or en masse or as individuals they made contributions to this country.

Those in prison will also become citizens. Their criminal status will not change.

You cannot be a citizen of two countries and receive benefits from both.

The path to citizenship turned out to be a path to nowhere.

Make it as quick and as painless as possible. This will in no way absolve any person, citizen or not, legal or not, from any crimes committed against America, its people and/or its land and/or property.

This is not a criminal’s dream. Criminals will still be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

This is a people’s dream come true – advantageous to everyone.

Build a moat around the castle. Fill it with alligators and adjust numbers of immigrants allowable from all countries worldwide according to what the USA can withstand while still profiting and thriving as a nation and as individuals without any backslides that would hurt the existing citizenry.

Moat, castle, alligators are metaphors for structures and systems and deterrents used to control the flow of illegal immigrants.




Name Birth

Death

Ernest Romanzo Davidson

14 Nov 1881 – Inverness Township, Megantic County, Quebec, Canada

04 Sept 1933 – Wells River, Orange, Vermont, USA

maternal grandfather of Sharon  Lee Davies-Tight


11-14-07 letter from Mom Davies.

Dear Sharon, Steve and Rose, Today is the anniversary of my Dad’s birthday & he would have been 125 yr. old. Ernest Romanzo Davidson. The Romanzo was after an Indian who delivered him. He came to the states, married my Mom and died at 51 when I was a month from 7 yrs, and I remember everything about him.

He knelt beside my bed with me and taught me “Now I lay me down to sleep”. He was always there to help everyone at any time. He started to call me “Pearly” which my Mom didn’t like, so she decided I would be called Margaret. From then on he never called me anything but “punkin”. He never spanked me–my Mom took care of that–but she never spanked after Dad died.

I think her silence from time to time was worse than spanking!

Sharon and Steve, I was so thrilled with Evangeline!!! I read aloud from it this A.M. From 4-6-a peaceful time to read! Rick came with Alex @ 7:30 and I showed them and they thought it was great. The notes from you both were also special.

As I was reading about the Smithie, I recalled that Uncle Jim Mills started out as a blacksmith in Ryegate Corner, VT. at the same time buying and selling farms (a real estate agent?) From there he settled in a large farm in Wells River where they took my mother when she was seven years old. The farm still stands.

After retiring, they moved into town & bought the large Deming residence. He died 2 weeks before my Dad in the same house leaving his wife with five farms during the depression. She eventually sold them herself. I remember the paper she wrote, I, John Doe, do promise to pay Nellie Mills_____monthly. Total was $1000.00. Signed, John Doe. Witness Wendell Clark.

Now I remember his name–James Peavey. Because he never missed a payment when his veteran’s check came in, she never charged him interest. “AN HONEST MAN” she said. I don’t remember her ever preaching to me, but she constantly talked about the good things so & so did.

She never turned a hobo away from her door, but gave them some little chore to do so they could feel better about the meal. Imagine a 71 year old woman having brought up her sister (my grandmother) when she was 7, took my mother when she was 7 & myself when I was 7.

After her daughter died, she had a Seth Thomas clock put in the Wells River Cong. Church where I was baptized. Their only child Vera (Mrs. Verne Howard) died young in childbirth. One baby stillborn & Mom & 2nd baby died together. When Uncle Jim died, she had an archway put in the W.R. Cemetery MILLS MEMORIAL ARCH. As you enter, it says “I am the resurrection & the life”–as you leave “He that believeth in me shall never die”.

Because my mother had to leave town to find work after Dad died, my brother Jimmy (James Mills Davidson) & I stayed in W.R. Jim stayed until he married. I completed 8th grade there & was sent to be with my Mom in Bethlehem, N.H. & the Pierce family.

Nannie said a girl that age should be with her Mom. Of course I was sad and didn’t understand the reasoning then, but it turned out to be a very good choice. There was the Mom & Dad, a cousin their age, an invalid Gram who kept busy preparing veggies from big garden, knitting mittens for everyone & reading Grace Livingston Hills many love stories.

I became very involved with Methodist Episcopal church & was briefly, before I graduated, Superintendent of Sunday School. A couple years I was President of North Country Youth Fellowship. I had always loved school, did well & played basketball since 7th grade in W.R. I graduated in 1943 and still remember the final quote from my graduation speech. We had to write & memorize our own speeches. “He only earns his freedom and existence who daily conquers them anew. And such a throng I fain would see– stand on free soil among a people free! Then dare I hold the moment fleeing. Aye, linger a while, so fair thou art” ~ Goethe.

This was during WWII when our boys were leaving for war after graduation. Speaking of “Smithie”, it reminded me of a poem I heard Nannie quote, “Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree, a Village Smithie Stands”. I went to one of my poetry books & found it–also written by Henry W. Longfellow.

Nov. 16. Evangeline has sure taken me on a poetic journey! Now I’ll finish your letter. Yesterday I went to the hairdresser & weekly lunch @ the Senior Center where I had a lovely lunch of salmon boat with stuffing and dill sauce, broccoli, home fries, wheat bread and birthday cake for a member recovering from stroke. Alex went on field trip to Sturbridge yesterday. RAIN!!!

Thank you so much again for all your caring. Love & prayers, Mom.






 

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HUGGING – day 4

FIVE DAYS IN MARCH

DAY 4

My evolution from not wanting somebody to hug me or even tap me during a conversation – except family – to initiating the hug to overcome some ridiculous rule, that probably somebody else made for me. The fear of strangers that our mothers make us be. Fathers too.

Hindsight this is.

Does anyone really need or want to know any more? The whole story was told in two sentences. Then why fill the page with detailed filler that’s going to bore the viewer? Reserve your one, two or three liners for one, two or three liners.

If you can describe it in a few sentences, then why go for five hundred or more words, that’s only going to bore the viewer? You’re bored already.

This is hindsight. This is an English way of writing. Many other cultures put the main component of the thought first. Home I go vs. I go home. Mix it up a little, so the writing style isn’t so predictable.

People from different cultures read your stuff. Let them know you care about their reading experience.

~ Sharon Lee Davies-Tight






 

Thanks Mom…and Dad

My mother is making me stronger the longer I take to not grieve her passing.

She passed in such a graceful, let me go type of way, on her terms, and only when she knew as the mother to all of us that we would all be okay without her.

I know she’s not lost. She just had a bunch of stuff to do and people to see and help before she got to me. I always said take care of them first, I’m okay, now she’s holding me to it.

Frankly I was looking for some time to get stuff together. I was hoping for a ‘Mom’s on vacation away from all of us and her lifelong responsibility to all of us’ type of vacation – for her.

Don’t worry, she took it. She deserved it. Dad did too. We all do – at that point when our life becomes nothing to the world or anything on or in it. It’s a private passing, once gone from the tender thoughts of those whispering them, or the thoughts we whisper to ourselves as we hug ourselves to death’s door, when there really isn’t anybody else doing it for us.

I wanted to get my apartment looking really good – even though a lot of it is dumpster, second hand stuff – before she arrived via the spirit machine – to view it from a new dimension.

She once told me, “Don’t you ever be ashamed of that, Sharon”.  I said, “I’m not.” My mother knew I could pick the best from the worst.

My mother-in-law knowing I didn’t have much in the way of clothes said more than once to me, “You would look good in a potato sack”. I believed her.

Although both my mothers loved to hate me for all the right and wrong reasons, I always loved them – because they were mothers. Because I knew their suffering as women. And because they made the best of the time they lived in, that didn’t accept them as whole human beings. They accepted themselves differently than the world, governments, religions assigned them to be.

Guess they hated me – a part of them hated me – because I wasn’t a mother. And they both wanted that. My mom always saw me as a mother – even as a kid – because of the way I cared about everybody. My mom-in law wanted to see what little Steve’s and Sharon’s would look like. Just like our dogs probably and a couple of cats and gold fish and turtles and birds. Pick an animal any animal.

Finally my mother when she saw that I was not going to go for that glamorous job she pictured me in, said in resignation but also a recognition of truth, ‘the animals need you Sharon’. She read me. I sent her all of what I wrote. My father was more worried for me, that the path I took as activist would hurt me, so did what he could do to block me – nothing. He got it. He knew me as an engineer. My mother knew me as a mother. They both saw themselves in me.

That right there is the greatest compliment that my Mom and Dad ever gave to me – that they saw themselves in me.

Of course they feared for me, taking risks like I did, but they read my essays, yes my father too, and they knew I was right.

They also knew how they raised me and how I raised them and together even if apart we all would do the right thing for all of us and the individual of us and somehow it would all work out as a family growing into something better, still remembering the gentle and rough times equally.

~ Sharon Lee Davies-Tight