The Bang

Last week the wife and I took a three night camping trip to Lake Kegonsa State Park, only a 12 to fifteen minute drive from our home. We have started to go to Lake Kegonsa on our first trip of the year with the camper, to make sure we have everything. I have to admit last year we missed a few items. Not so this year. On Tuesday afternoon, I was getting the fire up to snuff to cook some food, and my wife was preparing food, and she saw a class C motorhome going down the outer loop road, and all of a sudden a large BANG occurred. It was not a happy bang. The bang was related to class C motorhome RV and my thoughts immediately turned to the driver having hit something, like a stump. The driver was probably less than 800' to her campsite.

Our campsite had a good view, about 250' from where it occurred, although some scrub and trees partially obscured the view. The class C motor home, in this case, had a truck cab cut for the front, and the motor home part extended several inches beyond the width of the cab on both sides. To me this is an important fact. It was a large vehicle. My brother-in-law once commented that the irony of campers is that the size increases as a persons driving ability decreases. This incident appears to have put an end to an 80+ year old woman camping adventures. After the incident, there was an odd delay, like the driver did not know what to do. Then all of a sudden she jumped out of the RV, in a manner that I thought she was forty years younger.  

Part of debris field

Just to the side of the pavement on this narrow one-way road was a tree stump cut about two feet above grade. The edge of the living quarters of the motor home hit the tree stump, which ripped that portion of the RV to shreds. I suspect the bang came when part of the frame hit the stump, but we heard little before the bang or even after the bang.  As the driver got out another person had made their way to the scene. The driver's first comment was, "I was watching the road." Apparently not. If the tree stump had been cut to 6" above grade, or had been left at 5' it would not have been a problem; in the first instance, the vehicle would have cleared it, and the second instance, it would have been more clearly noticed, or her right mirror would have hit the stump.  The RV sat in the road for a few hours as the sun started to set. She emptied her fresh water tank, and after several hours was convinced by someone to try to move it forward out of the road and into a nearby vacant site. For some reason, perhaps thinking it was still salvageable, she was reluctant to move it out of the road. There were less than 19 campsites occupied that night in the campground of about 95 sites. I would not like to see what would have happened if it was on a Friday. If there was a location in the park for this to occur this was it, as the third loop entrance was before and its exit beyond the scene of the incident, meaning people that needed to get to sites 17 through 54 could go that route--the bulk of the occupied sites. 

She was fortunate that the situation was not worse, in a few ways. First, she, and her female companion, were going to be camping with a cousin and her husband. He was a big help, getting them to a hotel for the night, and bringing her back the next morning to await the arrival of the tow truck.  Before the tow truck arrived, he and his wife unloaded a pile of personal belongings from the trailer and loaded it into his truck and took it to her house. Wednesday afternoon he cleaned up the debris left behind by the stump. He told me he could not believe how much two people had in that RV.  We saw the pile and if he got all that stuff in his pick-up truck, it was a great job of packing. Second, the collision just missed hitting the batteries. Third, the batteries are next to the propane tank, and the man who assisted her told me that the valve on the propane tank was cracked. A cracked propane tank valve is not a good situation, particularly neat batteries. If the batteries had gotten damaged with a cracked propane tank there may well have been a conflagration. They, perhaps, may be fortunate to be alive.

Being towed

Showing the power of social media, her brother in California heard about the incident via Facebook the night it happened and called her. No one seemed to know who had posted something about it that tuesday on Facebook for her brother to find out about the incident. 

Apparently, this octogenarian is now putting an end to her camping escapades. She had lined up several trips to take with her cousin and her husband, per the cousin's husband. He also told me she was experienced driving that RV as she has traveled the nation in it. Her side door and roof had just been replaced. I think she forgot to realize that the living quarters stick out several inches if not a foot from the main cab, and she simply was too far to the right and the stump, at the edge of the road was hit.

On a brighter note, and inch worm

Careful is the name of the game, and it shows how one slip in attentiveness can change a lifestyle. The bang has taken this octogenarian out of camping. (I never would have guessed she was in her 80's.) I give her a great deal of credit for driving a massive RV like that at her age. I don't think my wife would want me driving one of them, for fear of such a bang.

As an aside, our camper has an Alde heating system for hot water and as a furnace. It has glycol that it pumps around part of the living space. While we have used the Alde for hot water, for showers, we had never used it to heat the living space, but we did that for two nights. It is a really neat and quiet system. It does require maintenance every couple years to change out the glycol. Hey, and it was rather simple to use that even I could figure it out.

The Buffet Line

Last week Saturday I traveled with my spouse to visit her mother in southeast Wisconsin. For lunch we went to a Chinese buffet in a small strip mall in a nearby community. We arrived a few minutes after opening time, and were surprised at the constant customer stream during our visit. Most of the early arrivals were seasoned citizens, like my wife, and now I. An older couple, perhaps in their early to mid-70's, entered before us. The man was in fact kind enough to hold the door as we entered. They made sure to tell the receptionist "two SENIORS." Thus started an adventure in the buffet line.

We were seated, just a few feet from the buffet line, a minute after them, but waited to for the waitress to take our beverage order, before going to the buffet. That couple, went by their table and then headed right to the buffet line. This is where it got interesting. The man filled a plate, and a minute or two later was in the line again. He filled a second plate. It got even better, because he filled a third plate, and I noticed his daring to a shrimp dish, which was on the side I was heading. It is then I noticed a Chinese mix of vegetables and shrimp. He was mining out the shrimp. With deft hands, covered in plastic bags, he deftly and quickly moved the vegetables aside and harvested out only the shrimp. He must have practiced and warmed up his wrist all morning to handle to spoon with precision to move aside the bamboo shoots, water chestnuts and what have you. I saw him gather out several shrimp.  I stood there flabbergasted and watched as he mined the shrimp from the dish. We have a man who entered the line three times to my one, and then sat down to enjoy his haul. 

Chen Chinese Buffet, Mukwonago, WI
Source:  Google images

The workers were quite good at reloading the serving area, but not many patrons were gravitating toward the shrimp dish, perhaps because they noticed no shrimp in the dish. I am not sure if some grabbed or not, although we had good position to the buffet, and could easily watch what occurred since it was in the vision plane.

As we were near finished eating, I noticed the man back in the line again--at the, you guessed it, the dish that contained shrimp. He was moving the items around and around. I could see the quizzical look on his face as he searched and searched. He could not find any shrimp. I felt like jumping up and doing my best Gomer Pyle impression and say "Surprise, Surprise!" This couple sat on the other side of a half wall, with a support pillar, so we could partially see them. My wife's keen hearing picked up this conversation: Man:  "They were out of shrimp!" Woman: "Well you could go and ask for some." Man: "I think I will just leave it be."

Chen's Chinese Buffet
Source: Google images

The arrogance to complain that they were out of shrimp. As if he had nothing to do with the lack of shrimp in that pile of food.  He mined all the shrimp out of the dish, leaving everything else, which was not sufficiently reduced to restock the dish. He then has the audacity to wonder why they were out of shrimp. My wife relayed this conversation to me, and I wanted to almost laugh at his antics. They guy must be at the top of the line of the back end of a horse's anatomy.  

Perhaps he was mad that they were the second couple to be seated and maybe, just maybe the two that took food before them grabbed part of the shrimp dish. They were expert seniors--eating cheaply at lunch, at a buffet. The guy went back to the line at least four times, yes, four times. But, the last time he came up empty on shrimp. I have yet to ask for a senior discount at a restaurant. Perhaps, I am too forgetful. Next time I am in a buffet line, I will need to check out the mixed dishes to see if others mine out the shrimp. 

Biking with Mom Bear

Last week was the first time my wife (aka Mom Bear) and I went biking together. We did two trips each on a different day. My wife and I biked many times together last year, from the east coast of Wisconsin to the Northwoods. Biking with Mom Bear is always an entertaining time.

I think it was on Friday of last week that she chose the route through much of northern McFarland. I got ahead of her on that ride while on Valley and she was telling me which way to turn. We get to Siggelkow and there is both a bike path and a bike lane. I went right on the bike path, which was right before the road, and veered around the corner. There is a large hill to go up, and I am chugging up at a rather measured pace, when all of a sudden I look to my left and there is Mom Bear in the bike lane passing me on the hill. I commented on how she was moving well, and then she said: "I even stopped at the stop sign." I am sure it was to point out that she stopped at a stop sign that I failed to stop at. Although I had to slow down to make the right turn onto the bike path. She is a very good rule follower. Perhaps not as much of a rule follower as Ove (in a Man Called Ove), but a good rule follower. 

Siggelkow Rd Showing bike lanes with road
 and bike path to south side above curb

For example, she was aghast when watching the Junior Bake Off on Netflix that that Gabriel forgot to add a few ingredients into his cake. She became more perplexed when he was not the one voted out. Mom Bear follows rules when it comes to baking. I guess I can understand why as one time making Christmas cookies I forgot baking powder and the cookies did not turn out well at all. Missing an ingredient did not affect Gabriel in the JBO.

When she was younger my wife was an avid bicyclist. She even had bike gloves. That level of experience showed as she took the bike lane in the road,  and I, being more of a leisurely bicyclist, took the recreation path along the southside of Siggelkow Road. When I did bike planning we planned for varied levels of bicycle capability. Needless to say she is a step above my limits. The tight pant crowd would not want, as so many told me when planning, a recreation path or a bike lane, just another couple feet on the road. the very experienced bike crowd tend not to like us less experienced folk as we hold them up. 

Our route took us through Juniper Ridge, a newer subdivision with a recreation path through the center of the subdivision, with us riding often at the edge of storm ponds, both retention and detention, with some recreational facilities mixed in along that subdivision route which is about a 1,000 feet short of a mile. It is a rather pleasant ride as you are not along any major roadways.

Part of Juniper Ridge Bike Path

On Saturday we biked, with our oldest son, around Lake Monona. We had some difficulty owing to a 21k race, which went around the lake, and a 5k walk in parts of Monona. It must have started at Winnequah Park in Monona because that was a hot bed of activity and was to be our starting point, but we moved to Olbrich Botanical Gardens, where we caught the path right behind the gardens. Atwood Ave (Monona Drive) is under construction from about Cottage Grove Rd to just past Olbrich Botanical Gardens, which made us alter the route somewhat. As we started we got mixed in with a group of runners. But after about two miles there route changed and we did not pick up with them again until we got onto Winnequah Road in Monona, that is until the large uphill to Tonywatha Trail took us closer to Lake Monona. 

That bike route is always busy, and the run made it even more active. It was an overcast, rather dreary morning, which probably reduced the activity level somewhat. Usually the busiest part is along John Nolen Drive. Given that one can get out the Monona Terrace doors at that level, but few let you back in, the most you see by the Mistake on the Lake is people fishing, seldom people hanging around. If you want to hang around outside at the Monona Terrace, you go to the roof top terrace.

The sad thing is that Mom Bear really did not do much on those two bike trips other than follow the rules.  Well, I should say most of the rules, because I think one time she slowed, but did not stop at a stop sign. The problem with a rule follower is that it does not make for interesting blog posts. That is the story of biking with Mom Bear.

Images from Google Maps.

Changing Surnames

In the past I have written about surnames in Southern Bohemia. What are known as after-the-roof surnames were common in Bohemia particularly from mid-18th century and earlier. In that situation, a person takes on the surname of a prior owner. For example, a man marries and takes over his father-in-law's farm he may no longer be known by his surname, but the name of the father-in-law. Or, even a prior owner of the holding. However, I have a few instances in which the surname alteration makes absolutely no sense, at least with research to date.  This post will explore the surnames used in one line of my ancestors. 

Stieka Farmstead #24
Stabile Cadastre Map, ~1830

Luckily, in my Havel line from about 1648 to present there were no surname changes, but for spelling. I suspect this was because my Havel line farmed the same holding in Ratiborova Lhota from about 1585 to 1796 (when Frantisek moved to Dolni Chrastany) there was no after the roof name. The only change in the Havel surname was likely in the early 17th century when son Havel of Jan Wolff had his first name become the surname of his child Jakub. However, I do have after-the-roof names in other ancestral lines. 

My 5th great grandmother Ludmilla Trobl (who married Mathias Stieka in 1745) had two after the roof names, with each of her male grandparents taking an after-the-roof name. Her paternal grandfather Michael Strangl married Dorothea Trobl, and he took on her family's holding and the Trobl last name, hence Ludmilla's father was known as Veit Trobl not Veit Strangl. It was the same situation with Ludmilla's maternal grandfather. Vaclav Becvar, married Dorothea Kavan, and he too took the after-the-roof name, so that Ludmilla's mother was Sophia Kavan, not Becvar.  The best way to figure out the after-the-roof names is through the land registers which record property transactions. However, in the Stieka line the surname gets even more complicated. 

Ludmilla Trobl Parents and Grandparents

One of my fourth great grandmothers was Maria Anna Stikova (daughter of Ludmilla Trobl and Mathias Stieka), Stikova being the female version of Stika, also spelled Stieka. Let me begin with her great grandfather, Sebastian. Sebastian moved from an unknown location to take over what was the Mikes farm in Hlavatce in 1673. This holding was originally owned by Mathous Mikes, but the farm was burned and abandoned in 1623 during the Thirty Years War. In 1666, 43 years after it was burned during that war, it was purchased by Jan Springa, but he abandoned the holding in or about 1671 or 1672 and the whole farm was purchased by Sebastian Stieka for 120 Schock Grossen. The application of the Mikes surname, as an after-the-roof surname, to Sebastian resulted from a person who last owned the holding in 1623, fifty years before Sebastian even bought the farm. This shows how long surnames were attached to a property, lasting beyond even 43 years of vacancy. 

The fist recorded payment for Sebastian in the land register he is identified as Sebastian Mikes. The record keepers did not lose his Stieka surname in the land records, however. For example in 1699 Sebastian is deceased with the farm transferring to his widow, "Sophia Mikes aka Stieka." The holding is taken over by her second husband when she remarries. In 1724 the stepfather transfers the farm to his stepson identified as Martin Stieka (Mathias' father). From then on the land register uses the surname Stieka. When Martin was born his birth record identified him as Martin Mikes. From here on out things get interesting.

Land Register, 1680 entry showing
Sebastian Mikes (name highlighted)

When Martin marries, he is known as Martin "son of the late Sebastian Schöubaur of Hlavatce". I have no idea how that surname came about. However, it is the only marriage record that fits between the parish, land register and Seigniorial Register records. The surname's used by the Stieka family becomes even more curious. When my fifth great grandfather Mathias (Ludmilla's husband) is born his birth record identifies him as Mathias (although Mathias is added in with a carrot) Sebastian son of Martin Jansa. Like Schöubaur, I have no idea how the surname Jansa came about. How did Martin go from Stieka to Jansa may remain a mystery. Martin married Ludmilla Trobl in 1745, and they had, from my research, ten children over a 21 year span of time from 1746 to 1767. However, the seven children born before my 4th great grandmother Marianna (or Maria Anna) are under the surname Jansa in the parish records. Beginning with Marianna, the last three show their surname as Stieka. How do we know the Jansa's and the Stieka's one in the same? This is where you need the three sources--parish records, Seigniorial records and the land records to work out the puzzle. Two looseleaf inserts in the land records, about certain debts and obligations used the surname Jansa when referring to Mathias Stieka. This provided the extra proof of Jansa being an alias for Stieka. Sometime in the 18th century, it is said, Joseph II proclaimed that one surname had to be chosen and to be used from then on. His rule started in 1765, three years after Marianna was born. However, he shared duties with his mother for a period of time and it is possible that the decree came earlier than his formal ascendancy to the throne. Josef did issue a decree  in 1787 that required Jews to use surnames, which makes me wonder if this is the proclamation referred regarding surname usage. 

Mathias Stieka Birth
Note surname Jansa, highlight at right

This post provides a glimpse into the cultural manifestation of surnames in 17th and 18th century Bohemia. Varied surnames for the same family line make research more challenging. The after-the-roof surnames are understandable. In the Stieka line the Jansa and Schöubaur surnames are, so far, unexplainable; reasons why those were used may be lost to time. The latter may be simply a mistake. It also shows how one has to delve beyond the parish records. My original translator did a good job, but was not able to work with the land record writing, syntax and the varied colloquialisms used in the records. I was fortunate to find Richard D' Amelio to undertake the land register translations that have allowed a deeper dive into my genealogical lines. The land registers, are often repetitive, but at times some interesting information is provided to provide insight into our ancestors and their daily life challenges. Changing surnames in this part of Bohemia shows the difficulty of family history research. 

Falling Loons

There has been occurring in central Wisconsin this last week (and maybe this week given the weather) a phenomenon of which I never heard of before--falling loons. Last year, I did a post about loons on a lake in northeast Wisconsin and the trials they have of surviving predators--eagles, racoons, mink, northern pike, muskie, and a whole host of other animals attack the egg, the young, or even larger birds. That post is available here.  As if loons did not have sufficient trials and tribulations living in their natural habitat on a lake, or coastal waters, they are now, falling from the sky. Yes, literally falling from the sky!

Loon nest with egg, June 2022

Loons breed in far north Wisconsin and points north. They migrate across the nation and generally settle in coastal waters during the winter. Flying high in the sky, the loons are now migrating, but the cold temperatures this spring have caused ice to form on their bodies, the weight becomes too great and they fall out of the sky. This has occurred around Antigo and other areas of Wisconsin, and with cold temperatures this past weekend, probably was still occurring, and maybe even this week. The lucky loons are those that a human can find and take to a proper sized lake for rest, rehabilitation. They can then take off for points further north. The unlucky ones may land in small bodies of water, farm fields, or forests where no one may find them. I can see those poor loons being ripe for predators.

Loon Habitat and Migration Zones

What a sorry situation. The loons need a weather forecaster. Loons also need a decent sized water body to survive, since they cannot waddle or walk--they can only swim and fly. Hence, the one found in a cow pasture near Antigo was hopefully rescued and put on the right path. Loons need about a quarter mile (1,320') "runway" of water to get airborne. Actually, I am surprised it is not longer as I have seen many loons take flight and it takes a great deal of length. Once they take flight, they fly really well, with some being tracked at 70 mph. While an outlier, one loon is said to have traveled 670 miles in a 24 hour period of time. Their flight distance from winter home to breeding grounds in Minnesota and Wisconsin were tracked and it was found they travel from 1,170 to 1,470 miles. 

Wings contribute to flight, and loons have a good wingspan from 41 to 52". They weigh from 6 to 14 pounds. They have a keel on the bottom of their body which helps with their swimming capability. Their legs are setback on their body which allows for great swimming, but causes an inability to waddle or walk. Loons mate and nest at or near shore, or in some cases small floating man-made islands. Loons can live about 20 to 30 years, and travel to the same lake.

Not a good place for a loon
Source: CBS news

The loon population in Wisconsin has dropped 22% in the last 25 years, and researches have yet to figure out what has caused the decline. They do need a good deal of fish and small aquatic insects. Chicks and juvenile loons are particularly vulnerable. Hence, the last thing the loons needed was to fall from the sky.

Proper place for a loon
Author photo

The loon population is already in decline and I cannot imagine the effect the loon fallout will have on the already delicate loon population. I can't blame the loons, the temperature was in the 70's and 80's and then rapidly changed such that the high one day later was over 40 degrees cooler than the day before. People have been asked to scour their property for fallen loons to see if any need to be rescued. I hope when camping up north we will still hear the cry of the loon. It would be a shame for them to have fallen from the landscape.

Hit a Truck

From last week Wednesday afternoon well into the next morning, I felt like a hit a truck. I biked into the back of a Jeep Wrangler. This post is about that event, not because I was want to write about it, but because my wife, as is her want, said "There better be a blog post about this." Every time I do something out of the ordinary, my wife says "There better be a blog post about this." I cannot disobey my wife, so here is the post. 

The last thing the wife said to me, as I headed out for a ride last Wednesday afternoon, was to be careful. I thought of giving my typical response, but since my fall last June 14, I have decided I should not tempt fate using my former comeback that Careful is my middle name. Here is how the events transpired. I left for my bike ride and a few minutes into the ride I heard a clicking noise. I was looking down and behind me as I rode to see if I could get a sense of what was causing the noise. I knew a car was ahead, but I thought I was too far behind to take a look, and bam, next thing I know I feel my face being planted against the back of the vehicle. My first reaction was about my glasses, as they were crooked, but fortunately not broken. It was difficult getting up as my left hip and right leg hurt a great deal, I think I fell on the hip. A woman who was going by stopped to ask if I was alright and said she could give me ride, but I noted I would call to my wife. I thanked her for asking, and she noted she had done the same thing awhile back. I called, and my wife asked what happened, and I responded it is a long story. I told her I was a few houses up from the river. I stood in the driveway and waited. Looking at the mess of my bike. As my wife was driving southwest on Exchange Street, she came across, about two blocks from my location, an ambulance, two police cars and a gurney. 

Bent fork on my old bike

When she arrived I told her what happened, and I think she immediately shook her head, her red hair flowing side to side even with the strong wind. I was all achy and my neck hurt and shoulders hurt a great deal. I got home and put some ice on my hip and then the neck, but since my head hit I thought I should be seen by a medical professional. A trip to the Urgent Care in McFarland, noted that due to my age, head injuries and neck injuries should have a CAT scan, so off to Stoughton Hospital we went. It was my version of Gilligan's Island of a three hour tour. The bad news was I was fully inflamed, the good news was, much to the surprise of the wife, is that I did in fact have a brain. 

Perhaps the most exhausting part of the whole scenario was the lecture I received on my way home from the crash. I cannot recall everything that she said, but one thing was about how with the kids grown she thought we would be done with injuries, but I "had more than risen to the occasion" in that matter. I don't think she meant it as a compliment. Although the thought passed my mind to thank her for the compliment, but I thought it best not to be a smart ass with her at that time. She concluded that the reason I did not mention what happened was I would be too embarrassed. That night we took the bike out of the back and the next day looked at it, and reloaded it in our vehicle.

I loaded it up to take it to a bike shop in Fitchburg, where they noticed how bent the fork was. After a quick look, they decided that it would be up near half the cost of a new bike to repair. The person also said, I was actually lucky the fork bent like that otherwise my injuries would have been much worse as the fork took the brunt force, and I would have gone over the handle bars into the back of the Jeep. I then started to look at new bicycles. Knowing my oldest son is a bike guru, although at work, I thought I would take a chance on a text to ask him about advice on a couple bikes. I used a thread, which I did not intend, from the prior night that included both he and my wife. 

With my new bike

I get a text, which I thought was from my son, saying comfortable seat and handle bars should be a priority, and fatter tires will give more stability. It turns out it was from my wife. I tried out the comfort bike that Trek had on sale, the Verve 2. I rode it, with the salesman who was on another bike I would try, more like my old Specialized Crossroads. We rode part of the Capital City Trial, which I was instrumental in planning. He made a few adjustments to seat and handle bars. We switched bikes and just five minutes on the other, the comfort of the Verve was unmistakable. I thought my muscle memory would have me prefer the other bike, but perhaps because I was still stiff, it felt difficult to ride. 

I rode the Verve on my first bike ride of any significance on Friday, April 14. It does not feel like I go as fast as on the old bike, and I was switching gears more than I did on the old bike. On Saturday, I did most of my standard bike route. On the route there is a speed level counter. I used to get about 20 mph on my old bike in 14th gear. Disappointingly, today I was able to get to 22 mph in 24th gear. Part of me likes the more comfort position, but I also miss bending low and putting my forearms on the handle bars to increase speed. However, with the new bike I can ride with one hand on the handle bars more easily in my older age than on my older bike. Perhaps I can get back to riding without hands (my wife is now shaking her head even more). The tires are also much wider, allowing better grip on the road, but also for off paved surfaces. I still have to figure out how fast I can take a turn.

Bicycling can be a fun activity, but I have heard of many local persons about my age who have sustained serious injuries while biking. With the condition of my feet, I have been unable to walk much. I am hoping the feet improve such that I can also walk some days instead of biking. If I walked into the back of a park vehicle, I don't think I would hurt as bad.

The First Church

This past weekend was Easter Sunday. It is a day when Christians take time off from Easter egg hunts to reflect on the resurrection of Jesus Christ. In the Catholic Church there is a three year cycle of Gospel readings. The Sunday reading was from John's Gospel, and Monday's reading was from Matthew. Both provide an interesting insight that, I never before thought deeply about. The first person(s) to visit the tomb, was not a male disciple, but rather, depending on the account, was a woman, or two women. As a priest at St John's Abbey wrote: "Mary (Magdalene) is the first to experience the resurrection and she is the first to proclaim this great news." The proclamation of the great news was not reserved for a male disciple, but for a female.

Jesus praying in the Garden

Dark still covered the springtime landscape of Jerusalem on that morning following the Sabbath, when one or perhaps two women made their way to the tomb where Jesus' dead body had been laid to rest following his crucifixion on the previous Friday afternoon. John's Gospel (20:1) has Mary Magdalene going to the tomb and saw that the stone was removed. Matthew's Gospel (28:1) has Mary Magdalene and "the other Mary" walking to see the tomb. In John, Mary Magdalene runs to tell the disciples who are holed up in the upper room, likely the place of the Last Supper. In Matthew, an angel appears and says to them, "He is not here for he has been raised, as he said. Come see the place where he lay. Then go quickly to tell his disciples, He has been raised from the Dead." 

As they leave, according to Matthew, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary met Jesus and they greeted each other, and this is where Jesus instructs them to tell his the others to meet him in Galilee. Mark's account is similar with Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James and Salome, taking spices to the tomb, and encounter a man in white. Luke also has two women going to the tomb.

Cell at Caiaphas' residence

The details may vary but there is agreement among the four Gospels that the first person(s) to the tomb were Mary Magdalene and likely with another Mary. All the times I have heard the Gospel readings it never struck me until the Friday before this past Easter Sunday, when someone, in an on-line study of the upcoming Gospel reading made note of the importance of this. For the fifteen or twenty minutes it took the woman to make their way from the tomb to the upper room, they were the first members of the Church. For it was to these two women that the Paschal Mystery of the Life, Death and Resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ was first reveled. It was two women who held that most joyful mystery in their hearts until they reached the upper room and proclaimed the good news to the others. For that period of time they were the first Church.

Church of the Holy Sepulchre 

The first Church was not a male disciple. The men were resting, or cowering, in the upper room. Instead it was two women, with perhaps one, Mary Magdalene, possibly being formerly of ill-repute, although that has been discounted by some modern research. Let us say that Mary Magdalene came with some baggage, something that we all bring when we present ourselves. We are not perfect.

Mass at Jesus' burial spot

The Paschal Mystery was essentially revealed to two women that first Easter. Even with that, the decision making in the Roman Catholic Church has been by males. Many in the hierarchy are intent on keeping it that way. John Paul II, did his best pretzel gymnastics to keep it that way. Although, he did not ban female deacons. 

Via Dolorosa, the path Christ took carrying the Cross

With a single all-male-discipline for clergy, the Church is unable to properly minister to its flock. We see it in Africa, the Amazon and even here in the United States. I think of my uncle's funeral where a deacon said the prayer at the funeral home, and no one knew if he would even arrive. A priest said the funeral mass, but a different deacon was at the internment. The Church has floundered its ability to accompany people in times of grief, and even in times of joy. is it any wonder that the pews are emptying quicker than one can say "single all-male priesthood"?

Garden of Gethsemane

Given that God entrusted Mary Magdalene with proclaiming the good news should that not be the starting point for discussion of women's roles in the Church? If a woman is acceptable to be the first to realize the Paschal Mystery, is the first to proclaim the good news that Christ has written, why has man, yes man, prohibited woman from proclaiming the good news in future generations? 

Plaque Commemorating the Upper Room 
where the Last Supper was held

If it had not been for Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, how long would it have been before the men had come out of their fortress to find an empty tomb? Would we be celebrating the resurrection not on Sunday, but on Monday?  It was a female who told the men that Christ had risen, they did not discover it for themselves. For a short time, women were the first church.

Photos by author, 2013.