Both Rosellen and I consider Ernst Borinski one of our most significant mentors. I’m not sure if I’ve written about him before in these 300 postings but he surely deserves his own dedicated space in my blog. He’s on my mind for a particular reason today, which I’ll get to in a moment after I give you the short version of Ernst’s story.
Ernst was the chairman of the sociology department at Tougaloo College in Mississippi. He was the major factor in our decision to teach there. AGerman Jewish immigrant who landed in this unlikely HBCU by choice, Ernst had been a judge in his home country, but at age 40 he fled to Cuba, after failing to convince any of his family of the danger of staying. He was the only survivor among his relatives. He started fresh in this country and received a Ph.D. in sociology. HIs impact on generations of students, scores of colleagues and a wider Mississippi community in the throes of adjusting to a new racial order was huge.
Because he had lost everyone, Ernst created surrogate families wherever he went. We were among those. When school wasn’t in session or when he was on sabbatical, we were blessed by extended visits from him wherever we lived. When Adina was born, he declared himself her godfather. The college built a house for him just off campus in which he could live till his death, when it would revert to the school.
When he finally retired in his late seventies or early eighties – and here we’re getting to the heart of this story – he embarked on a series of extended strenuous trips, including excursions to China and The Soviet Union. We were awed by the courage to undertake such challenges at his age and unaccompanied no less. Ernst knew people everywhere, so I’m sure he was well cared for but, regardless, he was not a man to be deterred by obstacles. After returning from his hike on the Great Wall of China, he told, with gusto, a story about how the University Club in New York would not let him stay there because he was wearing sneakers.
And here we are at around the same age as our late mentor, having just returned from a trip to the Dominican Republic, signing on for another. This past Sunday we acted on our desire to continue traveling. Every time we return from a trip, we face the question of whether we’re done, but the fact that we’ve just successfully handled the challenges involved in the most recent excursion stimulates ourappetite for more. Deciding to stop would feel like an admission that all the forward movement in our lives has reached its end.
Each new trip involves greater risk and new obstacles. That travel insurance provision for emergency medical evacuation looms larger in the planning. Scanning the provisions for wheelchair accessibility, elevators, staircases and challenging walking conditions become “top of mind,” in the current lingo, but we’re heartened by the recent memories of having vanquished those demons.
This time it’s another Viking river cruise, very similar in structure to the one we took to Norway last summer. It’s all sheltered and pre-planned, unlike Ernst’s trips to places that weren’t even equipped with a tourist infrastructure. Every trip like that needs to be hacked out of stone, but in return for comfort and safety, the opportunities for serendipitous experiences, the spice of travel, have been boiled out. That’s the trade-off when you choose curated experiences. In addition, on our DR trip, our 3 fine traveling companions from our family provided protection for us. Ben drove the rental car and ran interference for us in Spanish. When things went wrong, there were multiple problem solvers to call on. I think about Ernst and travelers like him with total admiration, braving the challenges alone. So, barring further decline to our mental and physical capacity, we’re going to continue to take advantage of these protected travel opportunities. By the way, this one is a river cruise on the Rhine which takes us to Switzerland, Germany, France and, briefly, the Netherlands. Now, consider the irony of the other task that has occupied my time these past few days. I have been communicating with staff at the cemetery where we will be buried. There are details to be addressed – markers for our plots, interment fees, records costs. If we don’t deal with them now, they will fall to whoever is up to tackling them at a very inconvenient time. So, these then are the two poles around which our remaining years revolve – moving forward with life-affirming and rewarding activities (these should include acts of political resistance as well as travel and cultural activities) – and the eyes-wide-open acknowledgement of what lies ahead. I’ll close by repeating my favorite headline from The Onion: “Mortality rate holds steady at 100%.”
