Friday, July 10, 2026

Walking the Walk and Compassion for Campers Update for July 10, 2026


Look for new opportunities for action, education, community, and solidarity in and around McHenry County here every week.  

                                                            Walking the Walk 

Immigrant Justice Summer by national Indivisible.  .C.E. (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) activity has calmed down in our area for now, but we know there are plans to ramp it up again. If you want to be prepared to help our immigrant neighbors, join national Indivisible’s Immigrant Justice Summer virtual trainings. This five-part training series will give you the tools that you’ll need to respond to I.C.E. surges in a safe, immigrant-aligned way. Each training takes place virtually via Zoom. The first training is this Thursday, July 9th, beginning at 7:00 p.m. Central Time. Sign up here and please list your affiliation as being a member of Northern Illinois Indivisible:


McHenry County Disability Pride event will be held this year at McHenry County College, Building B on Saturday, July 25 from 10 am to 1 pm.  The free event aims to highlight the diversity and lived experiences within the community of people living with a wide array of disabilities, from physical and sensory to developmental and behavioral. Officially established in 2015, July is considered National Disability Pride Month.  Activities, service providers, community support and vendors.



Together We Stand McHenry County is sponsoring a Community Blood Drive on Saturday, July 26 at the Algonquin Township Building, 3702 US Rt. 14 between Crystal Lake and Cary.

Compassion for Campers



Ride/Walk/Run to Leave a Light On riders gathering to exit the Square Compassion for Campers received $2536.00 from the event.

Our distributions are usually held on the first and third Fridays of the month from 10 am to 2 pm at the new McHenry County Resource Center (MCHC) at the McHenry County Mental Health Board offices, 620 Dakota Street in Crystal Lake.   Due to the Independence Day holiday weekend, the Resource Center was closed on Friday, July 3.  Our next distributions will be on Fridays July 17 and August 3.  

With at least a temporary home base, C4C can resume accepting donations of supplies including clean used sleeping bags and tents in their bags or cases, tarps and other basic camping gear, rain gear, and especially mosquito and tick repellents and sunscreen.  Contact Sue Rekenthaler at tomatos@mc.net or Patrick Murfin at pmurfin@sbcglobal.net for more information.

Financial support is critical to fulfilling our mission. The best thing you can do is offer your critically needed financial support. Money donations are always welcome at     https://tinyurl.com/3bz96axe.   Look for updates here.  Email compassionforcampers@treeoflifeuu.org .
 

How Telestar Accidently Beamed the Cubs to Earth

 

There were a lot of firsts involved when Telstar 1 was launched on top of a Thor-Delta rocket from Cape Canaveral, Florida on July 10, 1962.

It was the first active telecommunications satellite, capable of relaying television broadcasts, bundled telephone calls, and fax images.

Echo I, launched by NASA in 1960 had been a glorified weather balloon—a Mylar inflated sphere off which microwave signals could be bounced from one Earth station to another.  Although millions of Americans, me included, spent hours watching darkened skies for the passage of the gleaming object in orbit, Echo’s usefulness as a communications device was more symbolic than real.


Echo 1 sits fully inflated at a Navy hangar in Weeksville, North Carolina.  The Mylar gasbag inflated from a satellite "egg" in orbit and simply bounced microwave signals back to earth.  It was an easily spotted by the naked eye bright object moving across dark skies.

Telstar, developed jointly by American Bell Labs, the British General Post Office, and the French National PTT (Post, Telegraph & Telecom Office) was intended to provide an active and practical link across the Atlantic Ocean for multiple communications uses. 

Telstar was also the first privately (or public/private because of the original consortium’s socialized European partners) satellite and NASA was paid for its launching facilities, rocket, and support system.

Built at Bell Labs, the satellite resembled a small ball.  It was only 34.5 inches in diameter and weighed 177 pounds—about the maximum size for the limited lift capacity of NASA’s Delta rockets.  It was covered with several innovative solar cells which generated a paltry 14 watts of power.  The solar cells were a breakthrough.  So were the transistors which replaced most of the bulky tubes for radio communications and the traveling-wave tube which helped amplify weak radio signals on their return to earth.  All in all, it was a technological marvel.

The satellite was placed in a medium altitude elliptical orbit completed once every 2 hours and 37 minutes.  That meant that Telstar could only be used to relay communications across the Atlantic for about 20 minutes out of every orbit.  Subsequent communications satellites were launched into geosynchronous orbit much higher but stationary in relationship to a point on Earth making them continuously operable.

                       
                                     A Thor/Delta rocket blasts off from Cape Canaveral with Telstar I .

There were launch jitters associated with the Delta rocket, which was less than totally reliable.  A number of launches had ended in spectacular failure.  But Telstar reached orbit successfully.

On July 11 test television images of an American Flag outside the Andover, Maine Earth Station were transmitted to a French station at Pleumeur-Bodou.

Public service was inaugurated in a highly publicized broadcast involving Eurovision on the continent, all three American television networks, and the Canadian Broadcasting Company.  Walter Cronkite, an enthusiastic booster of the space program, and NBC’s Chet Huntley anchored from New York while the BBC’s Richard Dimbleby did the honors from Brussels.


The podium was empty.  President Kennedy was not ready when the Telstar hook-up was achieved early.  Engineers scrambled and put up a Cubs game from Wrigley Field in his place.

Following live shots of the Statue of Liberty and the Eifel Tower, President John F. Kennedy was slated to make introductory remarks.  But the system acquired satellite connection early and Kennedy was not ready.  Instead, viewers were suddenly watching an in-progress game between the Philadelphia Phillies and Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field.  Mystified Europeans only got to see one play before the broadcast continued with a segment from Washington, D.C., where Kennedy was conducting a news conference and answering a question about the value of the Dollar.  Segments from Cape Canaveral, Quebec, and Stratford, Ontario rounded out the North American portion of the program.

Later in the evening, Telstar began relaying telephone calls and fax messages.

Public excitement was high.  The satellite was featured on the covers of popular magazines, and the subject of many newspaper articles.  For a while an American news broadcast that did not show at least a snippet of news originating in Europe would not have been complete.  


The British band The Tornados guitar driven instrumental hit was an example of the cultural fascination with space technology.

The Tornadoes became first English pop group to score a Number 1 hit in the U.S. with their instrumental Telstar.  The song was also covered successfully in this country by The Ventures—the version I best remember in Cheyenne—and Bobby Vinton.

But Telstar’s glory days as the poster child of President Kennedy’s “peaceful uses of outer space” were doomed.  Just one day before the launch the U.S. tested Starfish Prime, a high-altitude nuclear bomb which energized the Van Allen Belt in which Telstar was sent into orbit.  In Cold War tit-for-tat the Soviets exploded a similar weapon in October.  The huge increase in radiation over what designers had expected overwhelmed the satellite’s transistors and it failed in December.  Engineers were able to re-start it again in January 1963, but it failed again permanently in February

It was replaced by a nearly identical Telstar 2 in May 1963.  Soon other communications satellites including two RCA Relay units and two Syncom units from the Hughes Aircraft Company were also in service.  Syncom 2 was the first geosynchronous satellite and its successor, Syncom 3, broadcasted pictures live from the 1964 Summer Olympics from Tokyo.

By the way, NASA reports that both Telstar 1 and 2 continue to orbit the Earth, just two more pieces of cold, dead space junk.

Thursday, July 9, 2026

Recalling Highland Park and the Day That the Shield Failed—Murfin Verse


Mourning in Highland Park.

Note—It has been four years since the bloody attack on a Highland Park, Illinois Independence Day parade.  The wounds are still raw, the trauma never really healed.  Here is my blog post from this date in 2022.

As I was attending a reproductive rights rally in Crystal Lake on July 4th we got word of a shooting at an Independence Day parade in Highland Park, one of the toney and leafy North Shore suburbs of Chicago.  Later during a family gathering at the Murfin Estate cell phones began to deliver grizzly details—roof-top shooter with an automatic weapon, six deadinitially—scores injured including children, a whole community traumatized.  By the ten o’clock news the suspected assailant, a troubled local   young man with death obsessions and neo-Nazi and Trumpist connections.  The news in these parts has been filled with gory and tragic details, identification of victims, revelations of the perpetrators troubled life, and vigil after vigil.

Once again tragedy has moved me to commit poetry.  Over the last twenty years I have written too many verses to count about gun violence and mass murder—enough to fill at least a slim volume or occupy a whole evening of readings.  I have evidently become the poet laureate of carnage, grief, and rage.  Yet here I am at it again.

But perhaps I have grown cynical and callous.  Re-reading the verse below a few hours after writing made it seem so.  But it actually reflected the conflicted emotions I was feeling.  Especially after learning that an unarmed young Black man in Akron, Ohio was shot by police 60 times running away from a traffic stop while the murderous creep in Illinois was taken into custody without harm after a brief pursuit.

I may have been too harsh in my judgement.  Despite its wealth and overwhelmingly White population, the eventual seven dead included four Jews, two elderly Latino men visiting the city for the parade, one Latina and her Irish-American husband.  The bad boy terrorist could not have picked better targets for a neo-Nazi, despite apparently spraying the crowd at random.  But maybe the hometown scion knew his community well enough to figure out the likely victims.


Mostly Jewish and Latinx, the Highland Park victims perhaps not so random.

At any rate, here is the latest Murfin verse.

The Day the Shield Failed

July 4, 2022 

It turned out, after all,

            that the protection

of wealth and White privilege

was not a Star Trek shield—

            phasers, torpedoes

            and ordinary bullets

            did not bounce off

            harmlessly

                        on a day of

                        gay celebration

                        of a founding mythos

                        and the very idea

                        of benevolent blessings

                        and invulnerability.

 

But there was plenty of harm

            done that day

            wrecked not by an alien

            but a defective member

            of their own privileged class

                        blithely handed his weapon

                        fit for any military carnage.

 

The next day they wandered stunned

            amid abandoned chairs,

            strollers, and heat spoiling treats

                        “not here,       

                             not us,

                                 not now,

                                      not them

                                          them

                                                them.”

 

Pardon nice people

            let me introduce you—

                        chickens, roost,          

                                    roost, chickens.

 

—Patrick Murfin

  

Wednesday, July 8, 2026

Jonathan Mayhew Was the Neglected Prophet of Pre-Revolutionary Boston


The Rev. Jonathan Mayhew--a religious and political radical and visionary of old Boston.

When the Rev. Jonathan Mayhew died in Boston on July 9, 1766 his moral, religious, and political legacy was far from accomplished.  Indeed, years and decades would unfold before the depth of his influence became apparent in a new nation and in a new faith.  Mayhew, then only 46-years-old, was the minister of Old West Church, and much beloved by his congregation and admired by the hot heads and radicals being rallied by Samuel Adams who would soon become the Sons of Liberty.  He was decidedly unpopular with the majority of his ministerial peers, conservative civic leaders, and with the Royal Governor of Massachusetts and his Council. 
Mayhew was born on Martha’s Vineyard on October 8, 1720, a fifth generation descendent of Thomas Mayhew, the Elder who first arrived in the New World with the Great Migration fleet of Puritan settlers in 1631.  Ten years later the original Mayhew secured a proprietary colony grant for Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket, the Elizabeth Islands, and other small islands.  Installing himself as governor he began populating his grant with new immigrants and also established his own farm and whaling operations.  Thomas, his son, and grandson also were missionaries among the local Wampanoag and established such fair and friendly relations with the natives.  They made it clear that religion and governance were separate.  The tribe was welcome to embrace Christianity, but Mayhew was at pains to assure them that their governance and lands were secure on their own.  Relations were so good that despite vastly outnumbering the settlers the local Wampanoag did not join the general uprising known as King Philips War that almost wiped out the Massachusetts Bay Colony of 1675-76.
Although the small proprietary colony was absorbed by Massachusetts after 1688, the family, or much of it, remained on the island in relative isolation from the mainstream of Puritan society.  Devoutly religious, their local version of the Congregationalist New England Standing Order drifted from the harsh and rigid Calvinism of the mainland.
Young Jonathan, noted for his scholarly bent, left the island to pursue the Lords work as a student at the factory of divines, Harvard College.  Upon graduation Mayhew he found New England in a religious upheaval.  


Puritan firebrand Rev. Jonathan Edwards appalled Mayhew.
The Connecticut minister and theologian Jonathan Edwards helped inaugurate the first round of revival meetings in the 1730’s. In 1841 he scared the hell out New England with his fiery sermon Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God which quickly became the first big best seller in the Colonies in pamphlet form.  Mayhew rejected Edwards view declaring that “total depravity [is] both dishonourable to the character of God and a libel on human nature.”  He likewise rejected the five points of Calvinism including the doctrine of irresistible grace and the doctrine of the Trinity as taught by the Athanasian and Nicene Creeds.
At the same time Mayhew also rejected the Great Awakening—the first of a series of huge revival movements that have periodically swept Americans up into a religious frenzy.  Mayhew saw the principal mover of the Awakening, the English preacher and revivalist George Whitefield, an Anglican preacher who became a founding figure in Methodism, at camp meetings in what is now Maine.  He was repulsed by the mindless emotionalism he witnessed which he suspected would burn brightly but soon extinguish itself.  He found Whitefield’s followers, ‘of the more illiterate sort,” and the preaching “confused, conceited and enthusiastic.”  He was repelled by the “extravagance and fanaticism, and violent gestures and shrieks” of people in the throes of religious ecstasy.
Mayhew made his views publicly know.  He proposed a third path based on religious rationalism and a view of a loving, but firm God as Father as revealed in a careful reading and analysis of The Bible.  


Boston's Old West Church called Mayhew.  It's working-class members responded to Mayhew's radicalism.  The steeple shown was torn down by the British during the Siege of Boston in the American Revolution in part to prevent it from being used to signal Colonial troops in Cambridge and in part as punishment for being Mayhew's pulpit of rebellion.
These views made it difficult for the young minister to find a parish.  But in 1747 West Church in Boston, one of the city’s nine Congregational Churches—and the least prosperous—called him to be their minister.  Only two of the other ministers in the city would even agree, as was customary, to be at the service of installation and ordination for the customary laying on of hands, symbolizing a welcome into the ministerial community.  One prominent minister is known to have scolded his barber when the man expressed interest in hearing Mayhew warning him not to go hear “that heretic.” 
Shortly after assuming the pulpit Mayhew crossed the ocean to pursue his Doctor of Divinity at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland, an intellectual hot bed of the Scottish Enlightenment.  Although the liberal ideas of the Scottish Enlightenment were taking hold among a young and rising generation of Virginia Tidewater aristocrats, they were a novelty in New England where most ministers who pursued advanced degrees in the Mother Country did so at firmly Puritan institutions.
Despite the cold shoulder of his colleagues, Mayhew perused a ministry that presaged Unitarianism—a theological position that did not even yet have a name—by more than two decades.  His belief in a firm, fair, and loving God/king led him to believe that even the worst sinners, after a period of punishment and reflection, could be reconciled and dwell thereafter in Heaven with the saints and the angels.  This was a kind of universalism, making Mayhew probably the first North American preacher to combine the two ideas which became the two streams of modern Unitarian Universalism. 
But Mayhew, however far seeing as a religious pioneer, is best remembered for the political sermons that helped stir rebellion. 
His most famous and influential sermon was preached on the centennial of the execution of King Charles I, January 30, 1750.  Discourse Concerning Unlimited Submission and Non-Resistance to the Higher Powers refuted the growing opinion that the king was a martyr.  It was a long, scholarly history of the monarchy and the development of the English constitution and built a Biblical argument against the Devine Right of Kings and in favor of popular resistance to unjust government in answer to a higher law.  He concluded that the execution of Charles was justified when he when he “too greatly infringed upon British liberties."  It was also a lesson for any future monarch with inclinations to despotism.
The sermon was widely printed and circulatead pamphlet, for a while supplanting Jonathan Edwards's old screed in popularity.  It was also reprinted in London in 1752 and again in 1767 as relations between the Mother Country and the Colonies were reaching crisis.  Mayhew became an international celebrity, albeit a highly controversial one.  His radicalism was denounced from other pulpits, and, of course, condemned by authorities.
But Sam Adams and his boys and a rising generation of patriots did listen.  Years later Sam’s cousin John Adams recalled, that Mayhew’s sermon “was read by everybody.”  Some would call it the intellectual opening salvo in the run-up to the American Revolution.  


Mayhew's words inspired the Sons of Liberty, seen here burning copies of the Stamp Act.  They were "read by everybody" recalled John Adams.
Mayhew continued to preach influential, widely circulated sermons including two election day charges in 1750 and 1754 espousing colonial rights and the civic duty to resist tyranny.  He became particularly aroused with the imposition of the Stamp Act in 1765.  The essence of slavery, he argued in a new sermon, consists in subjection to others—“whether many, few, or but one, it matters not.” The day after his sermon, a Boston mob attacked and destroyed Lieutenant Governor Thomas Hutchinson’s house.  Mayhew and his sermon were held responsible by the “respectable citizens of Boston.” 


Powerful Lt. Governor Thomas Hutchinson blamed Mayhew's sermon for the mob that burned down his house.
In 1763 Mayhew rebuked the Anglican Society for the Propagation of the Gospel for its plans to dispatch missionaries, priests, and teachers to the Colonies as well as the eminent appointment of an Anglican Bishop.  He regarded all of this as a camel’s nose under the tent meant to bring the colonies back into conformity with the Crown and its institutions.
In 1765 Mayhew was invited by Harvard to deliver the annual Dudlean Lecture on religion. This was a rare show of approval from the New England establishment and an acknowledgement of his popular leadership against the Crown.
The Snare Broken was a thanksgiving discourse preached by Mayhew on May 23, 1766 occasioned by Parliament’s repeal of the Stamp Act.  It was a warning to William Pitt and others in England who he knew would read it that taking self-government into private hands in some circumstances must surely proceed from “self-preservation, being a great and primary law of nature.”
Weeks after delivering this last famous salvo, Mayhew died.  Most of the Boston clergy still avoided his funeral as did virtually all officeholders.

In addition to his influence on the Sons of Liberty and the American Revolution, Mayhew’s religious ideas, except for his proto-universalism, were quietly adopted by a new generation of Harvard graduates and ministers.  In the years following the revolution all most all Boston churches affiliated with the Standing Order were quietly but unofficially unitarian.  An open break with the Congregationalists however did not come until William Ellery Channing’s Baltimore sermon in 1819.  Ironically Mayhew’s old congregation Old West was one of only two Boston churches to remain with the orthodox Congregationalists.