A life time event

 When I retired from Kimberly-Clark to take on a chemistry faculty job in 2002, I was excited and elated.  Twenty years later, when I retired from my chemistry faculty job in 2022,  I had a very different challenge.  

I have a Fitbit watch for a long time.  I use Fitbit for step and sleep tracking.  For a long time, tracking how many steps I walked and how many hours of deep sleep and REM are good enough for me.  Many times I received emails from Fitbit to see if I wanted to receive notification, I just ignored them.  Then one day when I received such an email, I said ‘yes’.  

Not long after, I received a notification from Fitbit that I had irregular heart rhythm.  I received the same notification on the following day.

I notified my primary care doctor the next day.  The doctor wasted no time to order a 48-hour heart monitor for me which confirmed that I had an 11% burden of irregular heart beat.  Besides ordering blood thinner and medications to lower both blood pressure and heart rate, my doctor ordered ultrasound echo for my heart and a battery of test for thyroid function. 

Thyroid tests were inconclusive.  Ultrasound echo test results were troublesome.  Although EF (ejection fraction) was normal, it showed that my tricuspid valve was leaking. It was labeled as ‘severe’ leaking which means it requires surgery to fix the valve. 

Those problematic diagnoses helped me to decide to retire from my faculty job because having a heart disease while continuing to teach would not do any favor to my students and myself.  

Talking to my cardiologist in Appleton, I requested a second opinion and also requested a less invasive surgical procedure for my faulty valve.  The cardiologist in Appleton referred me to see the top-notched cardiologist at the Cardiovascular Center of UM at Ann Arbor.  This is one of the reasons that we moved to Michigan, Ann Arbor. 

I saw Dr. Bowling of the Cardiovascular Center of Ann Arbor In January, 2023  and had a second ultrasound surface echo test of the heart.  To my pleasant surprise, the test showed that my valve was only mildly faulty.  It didn’t require a surgical procedure.  I was greatly relieved by the news.  

In March of 2023, I had a successful ablation of the faulty wires in my heart that had fixed most of my arrhythmia problems.  To this point, the doctors had done their jobs, and the results were marvelous.  Yet, there are responsibilities on my part to keep my heart healthy.  This is much more difficult than the medications and procedures received from my Medicare teams.

When my doctor performed ablation procedures on my heart, he had warned me that the ablation is not a cure.  The arrhythmia could  come  back.  Surely it did.  I had experienced moderate arrhythmia episodes since the procedures.  I became very intrigued to learn about the causes and triggers of the arrhythmia.

I was a chemistry faculty.  Back then,  my research subjects were atoms and molecules.  Now, I am a heart patient.  My  own body becomes my research subject. 

My research tools are, (1) a blood pressure device to check my blood pressures at least 2 times a day; (2) a blood glucose meter and testing strips to check my fasting glucose; (3) a portable electrocardiography (ecg)  device to check my heart rhythm any time; (4) a Fitbit to check on my sleep pattern and finally the most important tool, (5) journaling on the patterns of my heart rhythm. 

Here are few findings which may be useful for readers who have similar arrhythmia experiences.

First, blood pressure and blood glucose control are very critical.  Never settle on pre-diabetics or pre-hypertension.  Even on the so-called pre conditions, they can do damages to the blood vessels and to the heart. 

Second, quality sleep is critical.  Just a night of bad quality sleep can trigger episodes of arrhythmias. 

Other factors triggering the arrhythmias are quite fuzzy.  In my case, it looks like over exercise, or after a big meal could trigger episodes of irregular heart rhythm. 

In the end, I still have not completely figured out the trigger, let alone to completely heal from this illness.  The research on my own body is still continuing in the process.

I cannot believe that I am a heart patient myself and a part of the statistics.  However, because this is my own body, I have a deep curiosity to find a cure for my illness.  It may take me a year, or 10 years or a lifetime. 

This continuing research on my own body maybe the only good outcomes of this lifetime bad experience. 

I survived the big flood in Taiwan

 I wonder why I am still alive today. Am I just lucky or some other reasons which I still do not understand now.

The following story describes how I brushed off death by a hair in the worst flood Taiwan had since 1945, the so called 1959 August 7 flood, or 八七水災*1.

The fateful event took place on August 8, 1959.  I was only 13 years old. Dad was working at Taichung (台中).  He did not come home on August 7. My other siblings were either in Taipei (台北), or Tainan  (台南), or abroad.  At home, there were only four persons: Mom, my sister, Lina (麗娜) who was only 5 years old, and me.

Typhoon Ellen has brought torrential rains that pounded on my neighborhood since August 7, 1959.  This typhoon was formed in the seas south of Japan, and brought a tropical depression from around the Pratas Islands to Taiwan.  Rainstorms raged for three days, from August 7 through August 9, covering almost the entire western region, with the heaviest rainfall coming on the 7th. The incessant rain was accompanied by continuous, frightening thunder and lightning. In nine hours (at night of August 7) 811 mm. of rain dumped itself on Changhua (彰化) and its adjacent areas. By early next morning, all the streets in Changhua (彰化) were inundated. The previous record was 412 mm. 

Normally, the vast area of forest in central or eastern Taiwan was able to absorb this large amount of rainfall. Flooding had occurred in the past.  But no one had expected that the flooding this time would be different from the previous experiences.  However, since Chiang Kai-Sheik’s  (蔣介石) regime brought 1 million retreated, rugged and undisciplined troops and civilians over to Taiwan, deforestation had taken place at an acceleration rate.  A large portion of the forest has been either converted into cropland or residential areas.  The natural flood prevention system has been largely lost.  The authorities should have been aware of the fact that this large amount of rainfall could cause severe damage to many west-central counties of Taiwan.

Additionally, the weather stations of the U.S. in the Pacific, mostly in Japan also gave Taiwan authority a warning: that the tidewater from the sea was invading Taiwan at the same time of the unprecedented rainfall.

Unfortunately , Taiwan authority under Chiang ignored the warning. No evacuation order was given, nor any siren sounded to warn the residents of the pending flood danger either.  Most American remember 2005’s Hurricane Katrina in Louisiana.  President Bush and his administration were heavily criticized for their disaster prevention and relief efforts. In Taiwan, no one dared to criticize the government. The regime’s major concern was to suppress  the populace.  Chiang’s regime had declared martial law in 1949 which ended in 1987.  In those almost  40 years of martial law, all resources went to defense, police and civilian surveillance, nothing to go to the well being of the civilians. 

The relentless seven hours of continuous rainfall occurred at night while everyone was asleep.  Torrential rain is very common in Taiwan.  Nobody gave a second thought about the impending danger of the typhoon. 

Rain actually stopped in the morning of August 8.  Mom’s first concern was if the roof in the kitchen was leaking again.  It has happened many times in the past.  This time was no different.  I placed a bucket to collect the rain water leaking from the roof.  Although the dirt streets were flooded about ankle-deep, the floor in our house was only a little wet.  My sister and I helped mom  to wipe the wet floor to keep it dry.  Everything looked normal. Taiwanese had experienced these problems thousands of times before, not knowing that this time would be different.

Suddenly, we heard a loud voice thundering, “The embankment of Ta-Tu-Ke (or Big-Stomach River ( 大肚溪), the river that separates Taichung (台中) and Chang-Hua (彰化) counties), has failed.  Run, Run, Run for your life.”

The person who called to us to run was Mr. Huang who lived a few houses away from my house.  In the normal day, he was quiet and soft-spoken.  We kids called him O-Zi-San (ぉじさん, a Japanese phrase adopted in Taiwanese language. It means ‘Mr’ but in a very respectful manner.). He did not have any connection with the police or government institution.  Should we trust him?

Mom’s first reaction to the call was to put coal-blocks on a high table so that she would have something to make a fire with and cook when the typhoon was over.  My sister and I were helping her to put coal blocks on the table.

Mr. Huang cried out again.  This time was even more forceful with an authoritative tone. He told Mom, “ O-Ba-San (ぉバさん, a respectful addressing for ‘Mrs’.  This was also a Taiwanese-adopted Japanese phrase).  Run quickly. Stop your work now.  Strangely, mom listened to his call this time.  We quickly ran outside looking for 2-story or 3-story concrete houses that was about a quarter mile away.

Surely, the flood water did rush in our neighborhood.  Starting at the ankle height, after 5 blocks, it became knee height.  By the time we reached a 3-story-house, it was already chest-height.  Mom held my hand while I held my sister’s hand with my free hand.  Three of us half-ran, half waded to reach the 3-story house.  The door was already open.  About a dozen neighbors were there to greet us.  Along the main street, doors of every 2-story or 3-story concrete house were open showing the genuine compassion and hospitality of  the Taiwanese to strangers.  The host and the hostess of the 3-story house actually prepared warm meals for us.  We stayed at their place on the night of August 8.  We returned home on August 9. If we would have run 5 minutes later, all three of us would have drowned.

Through the window of the 3-story concrete house, we witness the flood scenes with great horror for the drowned neighbors and collapsed houses.  The official casualty of the flood was 669 dead, 852 injured, 377 missing and 248,184 homeless--victims of Taiwan's worst flood disaster since 1898.

One of the most tragic scenes was witnessed near a railway signpost outside of Changhua (彰化) when flood workers sighted a pair of legs sticking out of a heap of debris. As they dug out the body of a six-year-old boy, they found three more bodies.  They were two younger boys and a woman, who appeared to be about thirty and several months pregnant. Apparently she was the mother of all three. They held each other's hand in a firm grip. 

The strangest thing that happened in this story was about Mr. Huang’s calling for his neighbors to run for their lives. These days when everyone has a phone and internet, such a flood warning by Mr. Huang would not be a surprise at all.  However, the flood was in 1959, and no one in our neighborhood has a telephone.  A few families might have radios, however, radios do not work when there is no electricity.  The utility had been damaged by the storm.   He did not have any government connection.  How did he know that the embankment of the river failed (Actually, he was correct in this aspect. The official records did show that the embankment of Ta-Tu-Ke failed in the morning of August 8)?  How could this quiet and soft-spoken O-Zi-San (おじさん) come to speak with a loud and convincing tone to ask every family to leave at once? How could Mom believe in him and have saved three lives of the family? Any missteps or misjudgment could result in the drowning of a whole family.

I brushed off death in this big flood by a hair.  Besides saying thank you to whoever divine, I must treasure this life and live my life fully because this is the best way to express my gratitude.

Figure 1:  Flooding of the Big-Stomach River.

Figure 2:  Flood reached almost to the roof.

Figure 3  Taiwanese wading through the flooding water to a safe location. 

Figure 4:  Mass funeral for the flood victims.

*1  The flood occurred on August 8, 1959.  However, for unknown reason, the flood is known to historians as the August 7 flood.

A Surprising Father’s Day Present

 On Father’s Day of 1995 (June 17, 1995), I received a surprising present from Victor, and Leo, then 21 and 19 years old and were typical college kids. The present was a big hand made poster-painting of the Beethoven’s portrait with his characteristic hair lock and penetrating eyes (Fig.1).  The poster- painting has a size of 21” by 26,5”.  They made a transparent slide of the portrait then projected the slide onto a wall.  After that they put a white poster on the wall, then followed the image, painstakingly dot-by-dot, put the image together.

Why is this present so special for the occasion?  The two college kids must have heard me saying a lot about this great musician. (By the way, both kids are better musicians than I.). I admire Beethoven all through my life, not because he was a great composer and performer, but his tenacity.  When he composed the signature 9th symphony with chorus, he was deaf; he could not hear his own music.  

If someone asks me what my talents are, I would say none except my tenacity.  I will give you two examples. 

When I was in middle school (about 15 years old), I was sick often.  It was no fun at all. Then by accident, I found an old work out book left over from my old brother, Ting-KAi.  There were step-by -step instructions of doing push ups, sit ups at home, or pull ups on the gym equipment at the school.  I told my mom that from that moment, I will work out everyday starting on that day.  I keep that promise after 63 years.  I do the exercise, or work out at least one hour everyday.  

Here is another example.  In 2002, I retired from Kimberly-Clark and took a chemistry faculty job.  I was very excited; but there was a catch:  I need to teach both Thermodynamics and Quantum Chemistry.  What were the preparations ?  Was I ready to teach these two difficult subjects ?  That summer, I slept early but then woke up at 3:00 AM in the morning. While it was very quiet, I studied the teaching  materials.  It took all summer and finally, I was ready to teach.  That was the tenacity I have.

There is an old Chinese Proverb. It goes as this. A foolish old man moves a mountain. 愚公移山 How ? One pebble at a time.

I do not think I have any talent. But, I am that foolish old man, moving a mountain, one pebble at a time. That trait has been serving me well so far.

Walk with me, dad

 Approximately the end of August of 1965, Dad put my luggage in his bike.Both my dad and I walked the bike from my house to the train station to take a train from Chang-Hua (彰化） to Hsing-Jue (新竹） , Taiwan, where my college would be for the next year. 

That summer, after a brutal college entrance examination, I was admitted to a very prestigious university, the National Tsing-Hua University （國立清華大學）, the department of nuclear engineering （核子工程系）. The school of choice was important not only from the perspectives of job opportunities after college; but more importantly, the tuition difference.  The tuition of National Tsing-Hua University ran a few thousand New Taiwan Dollars (N.T.), while the tuition of a less prestigious university could run tens of thousand N.T.  at the time.  With our economic situation at the time, we simply could not afford the tuition for the college education. 

After approximately 45 minutes of walk, we arrived at the train station.  After another 30 minutes, the train arrived. Dad helped me to bring the luggage into the train.  My dad sat next to me on the train.  That was the first time Dad and I had a good and long conversation.  

Dad (1906-1999) was born in 1906 to a very poor peasant with a last name of Huang (黃）  My grandfather, Chen Hu （陳虎）, adopted dad into Chen’s family.  My dad’s name is Chen Mai （陳買）.  Literal translation of Mai means ‘bought’, buying my dad from Mr. Huang. It was an unofficial adoption fee. I  know my grandfather, Chen Hu, only from the photo.  I even did not see the photo of my other dad’s birth parents. My dad tried not to think or say much  about my Huang’s grandfather, because in some sense, my dad felt he was deserted by his birth parents.  My dad was well treated in his new family of Chen’s. 

Japan ruled Taiwan from 1895 to 1945.  Thus, most of his youth was under the Japanese influence.  My dad finished his elementary school education and then was asked to work to support Chen’s family.  Japanese education emphasized physical education.  For most of his life of 94 years, he was free from any chronic illness.  

I was born in 1946, a year after Nationalist Chinese or KuoMingTang (國民黨） took over Taiwan. The following year, Taiwan had the February 28 revolt followed by a massacre of approximately tens of thousand Taiwanese, mostly the intellect.  Then Taiwan went through a turbulent time.  The inflation was off the chart.  A 10,000 old Taiwan Dollar to exchange for one single New Taiwan dollar.  Famine and disease followed.  Chiang KAi-Shek declared martial law in 1949 putting all Taiwanese resources in defense. We were extremely poor during most of my childhood time.  

During my childhood years, my eldest brother, Mo-KAi （模楷）who had a bank job lived in Taipei.  My second eldest brother, Ting-KAi,（廷楷） was studying abroad in Germany.  At home, we had my 3rd eldest brother, Wen-KAi （文楷） who was 5 years older than I and another youngest sister.  My dad is the only person making money to feed 5 people in my household.

We were on a slow train which took approximately 2 hours.  Dad talked about his job.  He was an accountant with a transportation company with its headquarters at Taichung (台中) which was approximately 45 minutes from my home by bus. The account job requires skills in mathematics, and languages.  Dad could communicate well in Japanese.  He taught himself math and Mandarin. He was well respected in his company.  To avoid daily commutes, his boss allowed him to sleep at his office at night during the week. He came home on the weekends.

His salary could barely feed 5 people if only we were healthy and tuition was free.  At that time, there was no health insurance to share the burden.  There were no free educations for K to 12.  That means when we were sick, and when kids registered in schools, dad had to borrow money.  We were not able to get loans with low interest rates from a bank; dad often had to borrow money from friends with higher compound interest rates.  Vicious cycles then set in; the result was dad had to pay the debt with a big chunk of his salary.

When I was in middle school, I was often asked by my mom to write letters to my two elder brothers, Mo-KAi and Ting-KAi  begging for money.  The possibilities of receiving money from two brothers were very slim; however, once we received some, it was a big relief for a while.  

There were times that the person who loaned money came to my house  knocking on the doors at midnight  to ask us to return  the money.  We were very frightened. There was time that mom went out to the night market to sell some stuff so that we could pay off the debt.  One night, when I woke up in the middle of night and found out mom was not around.  The trauma set in, and I could not sleep that night; and I could not sleep at night for a long time.  I had life-long insomnia problems all through my life. 

The train stopped at Hsing-Jue.  We disembarked from the train to take a bus from the train station to the university campus.  On the bus, dad talked about his desire.  He wanted his 4 sons to be college educated.  He said that he even changed his name of Mai (買) to Hsu-Pei (四貝）.  It turns out the Mandarin 買 made of two radicals. The top is 四 , meaning number 4. The bottom is 貝, meaning jewels.  Literal translations of Hsu-Pei （四貝） is 4 jewels, or his four sons, Mo-KAi (模楷 1932-2022）,  Ting-KAi (廷楷 1935）, Wen-KAi (文楷1941） and Ming-KAi (明楷 1946）.   Yes. All our four, brothers were college educated, two of them even made into college professors ( Ting-KAi and Ming-KAi).  His final words of saying goodbye to this new campus was that education was the only way of being free from the struggle and fate of poverty.  Today, none of us are living in poverty.

Five years later, I received a generous graduate school scholarship from a very prestigious university in New Jersey, Princeton University.  The scholarship provided me room and board and all the tuition.  My brother, Ting-KAi bought me a ticket to fly from Taipei to New York in 1971.  This time, my mother and dad came with me to the airport to say goodbye to me.  On the day I received a paycheck from the university, I sent a check of $100 to my parents.  From that moment, I sent money home every month to my parents until 1999 when my dad died.  I did that because I knew how hard it is to live in poverty.  

You might ask what happened to my sisters ?  My oldest sister, 麗容 （1930-2022), was married early.  She only finished her grade school.  I have two younger sisters, Li-Tsu 麗姿 （1950），and  Li-Na 麗娜 (1954).  Li-Tsu was adopted, and was not well treated in her adopting family.  Her adopting parents were abusive, forcing her to marry an abusive husband.  That was a black spot on my dad’s legacy because sending Li-Tsu for adoption was purely for economic reasons.  Knowing his mistakes in Li-Tsu, he treated my youngest sister, Li-Na well.  He sent her to college and had a happy marriage.  Li-Na now lived in California with her husband. 

Today, I continue to have phone conversations with my most unfortunate sister, Li-Tsu, and send her money from time to time to apologize for my parents’ mistakes.

Walk with me, dad.  The walk sent me to a better education and later to become a college professor.  Thank you, dad.  .  

Life is Beautiful

 Life is beautiful not because everything is smooth, no struggle In life; but exactly the opposite.  There are a lot of struggles in life.  However, in each struggle, we learn lessons from them and continue to grow. During this growing process, we appreciate life.  In the end, life is indeed beautiful.

Some of the lessons are quick to learn because our  body's five senses could be a good  thermometer.   For example, if we touch a hot object, we get burned and will not touch the hot object again.  

However, some of the lessons are not so easy to recognize and require being mindful to find the cause and to avoid it in the future.  Here is one example.

When I was in college in Taipei, Taiwan, I participated in mountain hikings with classmates.  Each time after hiking, I had a very difficult time falling asleep.  Sometimes, I was lucky I was asleep but often woke up in the middle of night, then could not go back to sleep.  Then, there was one time, not only I didn’t sleep well, my liver enzymes spiked after the walk.  Usually, the insomnia episodes subsides and abnormal liver enzymes go away after a few days of rest.  For many years, I did not know why.

Then back in Wisconsin in 1998 when I was participating in 50 miles bike riding in the country.  I got all the gear.  It was breezy, I did not feel thirsty nor I was sweating too much.  I felt fine until the last mile when I came down from the bike and tried to walk and rest.  My feet literally could not walk a single step.  The event ambulance took me back to the headquarters and gave me orange juice and something to eat.  Then miraculously, I could walk again.  

All those years of insomnia, liver enzymes spike and even being unable to walk are all symptoms of dehydration.  That was a big lesson to learn in my life. Dehydration is indeed very serious and dangerous.

Recently I had  a phone conversation with my brother, David.  He lives in Westchester County, NY.  One day, he and his wife took a train to New York City and walked around New York City.  In the evening, they took a train back to Westchester County.  At the train platform, David could not move his feet for a while.  When I told him about my experiences of dehydration, he suddenly understood the cause of his symptoms.  Because it was difficult to access public restrooms in New York City, he limited his water intake during the walk so that he wouldn't feel rushed to a restroom.  Under such circumstances, dehydration occurred and it’s symptoms surfaced.  I am glad that I was  able to help my brother by  passing along the lesson I learned .  Life is beautiful.

Yet, there were circumstances where I learned the lessons in a much harder way.  It was a bright sunny winter day and I had an urge to go cross country skiing on a ski trail.  That was the time when there was no GPS, no WiFi, and absolutely no communication tools.  That day, I told my wife that I went skiing, without telling her where I went.  I just told her I would be back in a few hours.  I went to Ioda town in Wisconsin which is approximately 20 miles from my home.  The ski trail loop was approximately one and half miles which could be easily completed in less than two hours.  Because it was a loop, I should go back to the original starting point if I follow the trail.  As a result, I did not pay too much attention to the trail map.  

After 2 hours and not seeing the trail's original place, I began to puzzle about what was going on.  I looked at the map and trail sign, and was shocked, a really big shock.  I was not only off the ski trail but I was on the Ice Age Trail which runs approximately 1000 miles from the Minnesota border to Lake Michigan along the edge of the last continental glacier in Wisconsin.  

I was well off the trails and did not know how to get back.  The sun began to set, and the air temperature began to drop.  It was on a New Year holiday, and no car could be seen.  I began to be very afraid.  

I searched around the wood and no one could be seen.  Then I saw a hut.  I knocked on the door and hoped to see someone, and nobody could be seen.

I silently said to God that all my life, I did not steal. I did not rob.  But this time, if I saw no one, I was going to break into the hut to take shelter.  

I took the last chance to wait on the side of a road. Ten minutes passed, then 15 minutes, then 25 minutes, then 30 minutes. Then a big relief;  I saw a car pass by.  I waved to the driver, and the driver stopped and thankfully, he took me back to the original spot of the ski trail where my car was parked. 

I was lucky because the driver didn’t have to stop. After all all drivers were advised not to pick up a hitch hiker. But the driver, Bob, did stopped and I thank Bob and God deeply. Life is indeed beautiful, and my life was saved The lesson ?  Never take an adventure without telling other people. This indeed was a big and hard lesson to learn.

I moved to Ann Arbor in 2023.  I did not get a chance  to go cross-country skiing last winter.  But I walk everyday.  Few days ago, I was briskly walking along the Gallup Park Pathway.  Then a young lady in her 30s passed me.  What really bothered me was that she was walking leisurely, not like me briskly .  I then speeded up my walk so that I could pass her.  What did I see ?  The distance between her and me only got larger. I admitted that even she walked leisurely, she still walks faster than I. 

What should I say ?  That was my most recent lesson; a body of near 80 year old person is different from that of a 30 something person.  That is wisdom.   Isn’t life beautiful of learning this lesson when I am 78 years old.

I love Storytelling

 In the last 15 years, I tell stories whenever  I have chances.  But the adventure into the storytelling was an accident. It was a byproduct of something else of  totally different intention. 

In 1997, when I was still at Kimberly-Clark, I had the chance to take an online Technical Japanese class.  The company wanted me to translate Japanese technology articles to English so that they could learn Japanese technology.  

I was thrilled as I would have an opportunity to learn another language, Japanese.  Although Japanese is quite different from Mandarin which I learned since elementary school,  the Kanji in Japanese is the same as in Mandarin.  I worked very hard on learning Technical Japanese because I was confident of being successful in this new language.  I was.  Three years later, I was able to translate most of the technical Japanese articles into English. 

Then, I got ambitious.  I wanted to be able to translate English stories into Japanese.  My teacher smiled.  He said that I could try  and he would be happy to take a look; but he warned me that translating English back to Japanese required another level of skill.

He was right.  I tried to write the script of the Hiroshima story back to Japanese; but I was unsuccessful. 

However, something amazing happened.  Hiroshima itself is an  interesting but very sad  story.  The story starts with the Trinity Project, proceeds  to the President's cabinet meeting to decide whether to drop the bomb on Japanese soil.  Then, there was the aftermath. Because I knew the Hiroshima story inside out, I began to tell this story to other people; starting first with my family, then to a Taiwanese group, then to a storyteller guild, they all became hits.  The storytelling was very successful, and I began to fall in love of storytelling. 

Although telling Hiroshima to a big audience was very successful, the story’s script was not my story.  I took the script from a popular movie.  What I did  was really tell other people’s stories.  What I need is actually to tell my own stories so that stories become authentic.

My next story was the bonding between a grandfather and a grandson.  In 1987, we took Victor and Leo back to Taiwan.  Victor was 10 years old and Leo was 8.  My dad was walking with us; Victor and Leo came along.  My dad was a heavy smoker.  During the walk, my dad smoked one cigarette after another.  Victor spoke.  He spoke in broken Taiwanese, “Grandpa, smoking is not good for you, “. My dad tried not to hear it, and continued to walk.  A month later when we were back in the States, we received a letter, saying that my dad quit smoking because Victor said so.  That storytelling was also very successful. 

By the time I was venturing into storytelling, I retired from my first career of Kimberly-Clark, and began my another 20 year career at the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.  Although I took a deep salary cut from the industry job to a teaching career, I loved the work of teaching, research, and service. More importantly, I have audiences. 

During the teaching career, I participated in many storytelling events and observed other great storytellers’ styles.  Some used music as part of tool very effectively.

My story of Sakura incorporating a Japanese folk song was also very successful.  The story told of a Japanese widow who lost her husband during the Japanese-Russian war planted a Sakura tree in her backyard to commemorate her husband.  50 years later, Japan was in another war with the American. The Japanese authorities wanted to cut the tree for the war materials.  The woman chained herself to the tree to protest.  That story was also well told.

In short, I enjoy very much storytelling and I also enjoy very much to write those stories.  However, those adventure came from my failing intent to translating English into Japanese. 

I walk because I am alive

 We lived in Appleton, Wisconsin from 1984 to 2023, almost 40 years of my life.  It is my hometown.  It is a small town compared to any cities in the East Coast or the West Coast.  My brother (from New York City) told me that Appleton has only one major street, the College Avenue. My sister-in-law (from Los Angeles) calls Appleton, the place where even a bird would not lay her eggs.

Yet at this place, I raise my two kids, I have 2 satisfactory careers. I have a difficult diagnosis.  I have stories that can make me laugh, or make me cry. 

Precisely, it is a small town where I can walk to any part of the town by foot or by bicycle.  Because my jobs required me to commute and to sit at the office during the week, I tried to walk as much as I can on the weekends . The church we went to regularly on Sunday was  2.5 miles away from home; the library is 2 miles away.  Even I am what people say not the “church goer”, I went to church anyway because in doing so, I would walk 5 miles on Sunday; 2.5 miles one way. 

When we were at Appleton, most churches were involved in the Crop Walk. Crop Walk is an ecumenical church activity to walk for hunger. Basically, the participants ( the walker) asked for pledges from friends and relatives; those money then was used to help the hunger. 

In 1984, our next door neighbor, Ms. Dorthy Johnson was the mayor of the city of Appleton. She organized the walk.  We therefore went to walk to support the event.  I signed up for a 10 mile walk; my wife brought 2 boys, Victor (7 years old) and Leo (5 years old) to the City Park to cheer me up.  

As soon as we arrived at the City Park, Victor saw the excitement of the crowd. He told his mom that he wanted to walk with me.  My wife then hurriedly found some pledges for Victor at the last minute; actually, one of the pledges was from Mayor Johnson who pledged $3 per miles thinking that a seven year old boy could only walk as far as 3 miles.  Actually that was my wife’s thought.  She told Victor that anytime she wanted to quit, he could called home and mom would pick him up.  

Amazingly, that day, Victor, the 7 year old boy, walked side-by-side with me completing the 10 miles walk.   Eight years later, when the pastor of my church said that he could no longer run the 10 miles for the walk, Victor said that he would run for his pastor.  He ran the 10 miles Crop Walk.  Victor stays physically active.  He leads the bird walk and run frequently at Ann Arbor now.

Participating in the annual Crop Walk was  a family event. Both Leo and my wife walked in 1985 and the following years.  My wife walked the shorter routes.  Both Leo and Victor walked or ran at a much faster pace.

While Victor ran, Leo took on the swimming and tennis. In swimming, we still had a photo of Leo’s butterfly swim photo that was published in Appleton local newspaper. One year, when my wife took Leo to Whitewater tennis camp, he played so hard that he broke his collarbone. The coach called my wife to take Leo home.  Leo cried so hard not because collarbone hurt so much, but because he had to miss the tennis camp which he loved so much.

I have walked the Crop Walk every year since 1984 and always walked 10 miles from 1984 to 1990 when the Crop Walk committee changed the maximum length from 10 miles to 6 miles.  It changed again  to an even shorter length of 3 miles in 2020.  There was a year in which we had pouring rain in Appleton on the Crop Walk day. Still, I wore a raincoat and walked the full length of the course.  There was a year that we did not walk; that was the year we had the pandemic. All churches were closed at the time. In 2023, the organizers including my wife ran out of steam and still could not find people to continue to organize the event.  The Crop Walk was closed in 2023.

In the Crop Walk, I had a walking partner. His name is Tom Neal. We both belonged to the same church and even sang in the same choir. When we walked the 10 mile event, we always stopped by an ice cream shop at the 8 mile mark and enjoyed the ice cream.  That was the best part of the walk.  

My wife and I even walked 13 miles in 2002 in the half-marathon. 2002 was the year I retired from my first career of Kimberly-Clark and took on my teaching at University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.  Being a walker of 10 miles very often, I did feel it until I passed the 10 mile mark.  The next 3 miles was a drag; I was glad that both my wife and I completed the race.

The most strenuous walk I have had was the 20 miles backpacking from Algoma to Sturging Bay, Wisconsin along the Ahnapee State  trail in the year I was still working at Kimberly-Clark, probably in the year of 2000.  This is a 48 miles winding along the Algoma and Kiwanis rivers.  I camped at Algoma the night before. The plan was to backpack and walk 20 miles from Algoma to Sturgeon Bay then stayed at a hotel in Sturgeon Bay and walked back another 20 miles on the next day. It was a very hot summer day and the mosquito was totally intolerable. Because of the mosquito, I was unable to take the outfit off and wore just a T-shirt to walk. There were even snakes on the trail and I had to dodge them to proceed. Backpacking meant I had to carry not only food but enough water to complete the walk. By the time I arrived at Sturgeon Bay, I was completely exhausted.  Instead of walking back another 20 miles back to Algoma, I took a taxi and back to my campsite site where I could drive my car home. 

When we moved to Ann Arbor in 2023, I organized a Saturday morning walk for the Taiwanese retiree community.  We walked in many different city and county parks of Ann Arbor. We even walk both at the State Parks such as Maybury State Park and several Metro parks such as Hudson Mill Parks.

Recently I came across a report from Dr. Ronda Patrick. She is a biochemist who runs the Foundmyfitness podcast.  In this report, she talks about metabolic health. She says that a perfect recipe for developing diabetics is being sedentary, eating meals at a wrong time, and neglecting sleep. The definition of sedentary is more than 2 hours of sitting at a time.  My dad walked everyday to his 90.  When he was 90 years old, he rode his bicycle and fell and was sent to ER.  My sibling in Taiwan followed the doctor’s advice and restricted dad’s movement.  My dad’s health declined rapidly.  He died at age of 94.  My brother, Dr. Ting-Kai Chen, physically active all through his life.  He ran when he was in the 60-70’s.  He even ran New York Marathon in 1979.  Today, at age 89, he is still very vibrant and physically strong.  He is my role model. 

I am glad that my hometown Appleton gave me opportunities for being physically active.  I walk because I am alive.  I walk because I want to be alive.