Living These Days

Author: Mary Patricia Trainor

  • PUBLIC SQUARE

    Impediments to truth

    Nancy Guthrie is still missing. At least as of noon MST on Tuesday, February 10.

    Along with so many others I pray for a safe conclusion to this event. And soon.

    I can only imagine how this is weighing on the family. From what I can observe, they appear to be holding it together pretty well. But there must be moments of sadness, anger, hope, futility. Family members have been the object of suspicion, at least at the gossip level. That’s the last place anyone should be judged, yet often it’s the first stop we make just trying to find the truth. Whatever that is.

    I was a journalism major in college, later working some fifteen years for daily newspapers. That experience lends credibility to what I believe about the sometimes messy business of reporting the news.

    You’ve got a deadline. You’ve got competition. You’ve got a boss who doesn’t want to be scooped.

    You don’t want to be scooped.

    You want to save your time for rooting out new angles, genuine updates, following law enforcement, following tips, and so on.

    Nothing wrong with any of that. Except. In a race to deadline it’s very tempting to pick up what you’ve already run and slap it in there as background.

    In so doing, it’s really easy to pick up something that was never factual, and you run it yet again.

    There’s a good example from the Guthrie case.

    Early on, news reports agreed that the family was alerted by a church friend when Nancy had not showed up for church Sunday morning, February 1. That was picked up and shared broadly. Why not? 

    The problem is the picture  it created in readers’/viewers’ minds.

    Many accounts since have picked up and run with this version. The problem? Nancy has not attended  in-person church since COVID. Six-plus years ago 

    According to a story published today, the friend was wanting to set the record straight: since COVID, several women gather at another’s home on Sunday mornings to “attend” an online-church from New York. The article said that it is the church Savannah attends.

    Maybe you think, so what? What difference does it make? Here’s how it created a difference for me.

    BTW, I am an ordained Episcopal priest, and have wondered why a church friend would feel it so important to let the family know so quickly that their Mom was a no-show at church. I strongly suspected that some detail was missing.

    What’s factual is that this friend did inform the family. What isn’t factual is that this was connected to a Tucson church. We are still free to attend or not attend a church service in its building. An absence here or there wouldn’t automatically trigger a call to family.

    But a no-show to a friend’s house is a much different situation.

    So my practice is to be suspicious while reading or viewing the news, and if something just doesn’t add up right, call the reporter and check it out. They want it right, also.

    Dear God, we pray for the safe return of Nancy Guthrie, and for peace of heart and mind for her family. Amen.

  • PUBLIC SQUARE

    You never know what the day may bring…

    Good or bad, each day unfolds pretty much to our expectations.

    Kids to school.

    Dog to vet.

    Catch the top news, however it is we do that.

    Phone Mom and Dad.

    Text that recipe to a friend.

    Go to a scheduled meeting.

    For the most part, days pass by like that, without surprise, without incident.

    The rhythm is so reliable, it leaves little room for the surprises.

    But the surprises can force their way in anyway.

    You never know what the day may bring.

    It’s a simple sentence that doesn’t require a lot of explaining. Even so, we march on, optimistic, not a care in the world.

    Oh, sure, we know that our next moment might be ripped from us. But intellectually knowing the possibilities of major disruptions does not adequately prepare us for when they come.

    Just read the headlines on a given day, and put yourself in the place of someone who got that bad news.

    Here are a couple of examples, occurrences that nearly take your breath away:

    —My heart goes out to the family of 84-year-old Nancy Guthrie, missing from in Tucson, Arizona.

    —Also to the family of an 18-year-old Northern Arizona University student who is presumed to have died in a fraternity rush activity.

    So, what’s my point?

    Well, since there’s no known way of warding off horrific news, I believe I am left with doing a better job of valuing, not only the great days, but also the mindless days when no harm comes to me or mine. Days when I forget something on my grocery list, or have to circle the block several times to get a parking place; or clean up where my dog peed on the kitchen floor because I didn’t get her out in time.

    Imperfections, for sure, but not tragic, or life-altering, or even memorable.

    So, welcome, ordinary days. I hope to see you for the blessing you are and the treasure you bring to my life.

  • Public Square

    When we can’t accept

    Let the pain out.

    Wring those hands,

    wring them hard.

    The values we claim,

    the rights we expect,

    the freedoms we assume:

    Gone before their work is done?

    Were they ever real?

    Someone said justice is a hypothetical construct, that what passes for justice is a dream granted only to those in power,

    a privilege as beautiful and as rare as a Faberge egg.

    Don’t believe the privilege is gone? Don’t believe justice is rarely just? I didn’t believe it either.

    But then, along came Renee. And I was shocked.

    Then, along came Alex. And my knees gave way.

    I worry that their truth may be the new truth.

    Please, God, let it not be so.

    M.P. Trainor 

  • Public Square

    What to do when the truth is true

    On January 7, 2026, Renee Good began her last day on Earth as planned.
    Up and out of the house to drop off a child at school. Maybe some coffee in there somewhere.
    Then, in support of friends, we are told, headed to a local protest against ICE.
    Eventually, now with wife and dog in the car (maybe they were always there), she began to thread her way through parked cars to head home.
    Meanwhile, an ICE officer allegedly shot her three times, the last shot at what looks like point-blank range.
    When she sustained fatal injuries, her car continued under its own volition, until colliding into a vehicle at the side of the road.
    —
    There has been so much craziness in the wake of this unjustified killing.
    False claims of Renee’s criminal history published on social media.

    It was another Renee Good.

    Snopes reports says she did not weaponize her vehicle and try to hit the officer who killed her.
    More likely, he (me speaking now) was allowed back to duty too soon following being struck and injured by another car, another event.
    How do I know that what I’m telling you is true? No criminal record, not headed toward the officer with intent? Just killed as a very bad — what?— mistake?
    —-
    We can get so caught up in “our side” of a story that we may forget to do our homework. We hear or read words that support our general viewpoint. And we run with it. And, thanks to high
    internet speeds, we run quickly.
    In this frightful time, we cannot rely solely on the traditional media to fully inform us. You know, with the story behind the story, motivations, hidden agendas, errors, intentional skewing.
    —
    Here’s what I do to get to the truth: Question everything. If it seems iffy in any way, check other media sites. Know which media have a bias one way or the other.

    And, finally, fact check with stable resources such as Snopes (snopes.com.) Or one or more other fact check resources.
    Then, once sorting out the truth as best we can, we face the toughest work of all: What are we going to do about it?


    The question rests heavy on my spirit today.

  • Public Square

    What’s the devil got to do with it?

    Mountaineering is a very respectable activity. You’re outdoors breathing clean air. Getting a healthful amount of the sun’s rays. The aerobics involved in climbing mountains can be  beneficial. The entire enterprise merits some positive attention at the proverbial “water fountain” at work come Monday morning.

    But there also must be an awareness that climbing can be dangerous. It requires carefully placing each foot. It demands full attention. Don’t do it just for fame, glory, and fabulous selfies. It’s serious business requiring the whole person: Mind, body, spirit.

    At the end of 2025 three hikers died while attempting to conquer Mt. Baldy in Southern California’s San Gabriel Mountains.

    According to news reports, they were on a particularly treacherous section: The Devil’s Backbone. Picture the spinal structure of a human body, knobby and running across a perilous ridge en route to the mountain’s peak. Not everyone who attempts the climb makes it to the top. Add to that extreme high winds, and you have a disaster that not even rescue helicopters can engage. The fierce wind was a definite setback for any hope of rescuing the three late last year.

    Over the years, it has claimed many lives.

    All of this makes my story even more incredible, especially to me.

    In the mid-1960s, while still in college, I successfully reached the top of Mt. Baldy, traversing the Devil’s Backbone.

    The recent tragedies there sparked the memory. Even so, I questioned the reality of that. I must be mistaken. Why would I have attempted such a thing?

    But, yes, I went at the urging of a college friend of both my brother and me. For awhile, there was hint of a romantic spark between us, but Mt. Baldy more or less quenched the flame. And it wasn’t all his fault.

    I’m pretty sure I told him I did not do a lot of climbing. So I complained the entire climb. Are we there yet? People really do this for fun? How much farther?

    This was before Google, where I could have looked it up. Or Dateline, which might have offered another possible motive for this trek.

    As we neared the peak, I noticed hikers coming back our way. I was quick to comment, “So people actually do return.”

    That day was the end of mountain climbing for me, and pretty much the end of anything further for that friendship.

    All of which leads me to this conclusion: If you’re out of shape and someone eggs you on to try something you know is beyond your desire and your ability, DON’T GO.

  • Connections

    A house that’s not a home—and a rock too big to throw

    By Mary Patricia Trainor 

    You know the old saying, “What you see is what you get?”

    As with similar old sayings, this one contains a perfect truth. And a big flaw.

    In my podcast today (link below), I take a look at the Redfield Canyon cliff house.

    Its stone facade continues to catch hikers off guard, coming across as what looks like a house built into a Stone Mountain.

    But that’s where “what you see is what you get” misleads us.

    There is no house per se, just that false front, with entry into an area. Which brings to mind another old saying: “There’s more to that than meets the eye.”

    Here are just a couple of interesting points about Arizona’s Redfield House:

    From the canyon it reads like a tiny, weathered stone building pressed up against the cliff — windows, an arched front door, even a low stone patio wall — but most of the living space was actually under the rock overhang rather than as a free standing house.

    It is reminiscent of Giant Rock in Southern California’s Mojave Desert.

     It is North America’s largest free standing boulder. Some believe it to be the largest such boulder in the world.

    A significant difference between the Arizona Cliff House and Giant Rock is that someone lived 24-7 at the latter.

    Frank Critzer, having observed the burrowing talents of tortoises, himself burrowed under the large rock in the 1930s.

    He realized the tortoises knew something else about burrowing below. The thermal dynamics make desert living doable 

    It was within the confines of his underground home that Critzer died in 1942 in a dynamite explosion he instigated while wanted by law enforcement.

    Back to the Redfield House in Arizona, the stonework and the round window give it a deliberately “made” façade feel, which is why people sometimes think of it as a full-blown residence.

    How did it come to be? Accounts vary. Local writeups and explorers say the little cliff house dates to the 1930s and was built as a private retreat in Redfield Canyon (Galiuro Mountains region) — some name a cowboy/building couple (Chick and Harriet Logan), others attach the name Hope Jones, or tell of a writer who returned from England to build a secluded “mansion” in the canyon.

    In short: It was probably never meant as a conventional year-round home for a big family, more a romantic/solitary retreat built into a cave-like overhang. Or even to be the novelty it is today.

    Over time it’s been vandalized and stripped in places; photos and videos from hikers show broken windows, graffiti, and evidence of people exploring the rooms — which only adds to the mystery and lore.

    The question of “why?” lingers nearly a century later. Here are some thoughts:

    Practically speaking, attaching a stone façade to the cave opening creates a sheltered, weatherproof living face while using the cliff as a roof/thermal mass. It reduces materials you have to bring and gives a clear “front” to the space.

    Also, a faux-house face makes the place feel civilized and photogenic — a deliberate statement, not merely a survival shelter. That mix of function plus image is why it looks like a set piece rather than a simple cabin.

    Thus, the attention given to it just for its looks. 

    Whereas Giant Rock—other than looking like a very big boulder—hides a multitude of stories and myths about the man who lived there for a decade in the last century.

    View podcast (podcast link).

  • Connections

    The Shadow Knows

    Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows.

    Think of them as a forerunner to podcasts. Before television. Long before we had easy access to a variety of entertainment options. Definitely before podcasts. Before AirPods. Way back then, there was radio.

    And in those glory days, people gathered round to listen to dramas, comedy, music, and so on.

    One of the long-running dramatic radio programs centered around Lamont Cranston as the crime-fighting Shadow, when masked. Unmasked, he was simply another wealthy playboy.

    The serial show began in the early 1930s, and lasted until 1954. In the radio hit, the Shadow worked for justice and right outcomes. Fairness. Truth.

    In the same chronology, but otherwise unrelated, another understanding of Shadow was emerging.

    Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung developed the way we think about the inner parts of ourselves that limit and sabotage our relationships. He called it our Shadow. An we all have one.

    That’s right, we all have a Shadow side. And, yes, it limits us. Denial doesn’t work for this Shadow. The only way to “win,” if you will, is to meet it head on, and begin what can become a life’s commitment to diluting its negative effects.

    0n the Wonder Files podcast today, my guest is the Rev’d Dr Richard Mallory, who I invited to share about the ManKind Project. Encountering and understanding our Shadow is integral to its work. Check it out here.

  • Connections

    So, what’s the big deal with donkeys?

    Did you know that there is a World Donkey Day? It’s on May 8, and I’m certain there will be much hoopla when that date rolls around again.

    Meanwhile, donkey lovers like me don’t have to wait that long to celebrate these endearing animals.

    If you live near Tucson, Arizona, you’ll soon have a chance to appreciate them up close and personal.

    • 1-3 pm Sunday, December 14
    • Brandi Fenton Memorial Park
    • Free admission.

    And, yes, donkeys will be there to meet and greet.

    We can thank the Human-Animal Connection, and Genie Joseph, its executive director, for this special opportunity. See you there!

    Please see my podcast for more about the donkey and its many charming ways. You also will want to hear a story about a donkey named Lumen.

  • CONNECTIONS

    Do you have the ‘gene’

    The love of animals.

    A friend of mine speaks of the soul-deep, hard-wired love of animals in terms of genetics. “He’s got the gene.” Or, “She doesn’t have the gene.”

    I have the gene (although I reckon there’s no actual gene, but such thinking helps explain the otherwise inexplicable passion for a full range of critters.

    People who like animals, are kindly toward them, but can take them or leave them? They don’t have the gene.

    Awareness of my “gene” started a long time ago.

    When I was a child, I nearly wore the cover off of an over-sized book titled, “Who’s Who in the Zoo,” with a drawing of a chimpanzee gymnastically draped from the black lettering of the title. All of this on an orange-colored hard cover.

    I now have custody of this book again, acquired from a private book seller. It’s like finding an old friend of whom you’ve lost track. I shall not let this old friend get away from me again!

    For my podcast today (link below) I read the Introduction of a relatively new animal book that almost certainly will occupy prominent space in my home. 

    “An Immense World,” written by Ed Yong, is available in regular, adult, edition, and also in a Young Readers Edition. It is the latter from which I read, for several reasons. A larger font size, plus there is more space between lines that increases readability. Colorful illustrations and highlighted glossary terms add to the fun feel of this book. But make no mistake, there’s plenty of serious and fascinating science to hold your attention.

    In closing, I offer the following poem, author unknown:

    The Quiet Love of Animals 

    They come to us softly,
    on padded paws or beating wings—
    no fanfare, no need for explanations.
    They look at us
    with the kind of knowing that asks for nothing
    but the truth of who we are.
    A dog’s tail writes joy in the air,
    a cat folds itself
    into the warm parentheses of our arms,
    a horse leans its whole weight
    against our loneliness
    just to steady us.

    Birdsong spills into morning
    like a promise,
    and even the shy wild ones—
    the deer at the treeline,
    the fox with the lantern eyes—
    remind us that the world
     still believes in gentleness.

    To love an animal
    is to learn a quieter language,
    to speak in kindness,
    to listen with hands and heart.
    And in their presence
    we remember:

    We are not alone here.
    The earth is shared,
    alive,
      breathing,
      and full of love
     far older and wiser
    than our own.

    Podcast link: An Immense World

  • Public Square

    You never know what the day will bring…

    A friend of mine often ends one of our discussions with the phrase above.

    You never know what the day will bring. It’s similar to punctuation used as a bow tied around a gift.

    While a death was its original context for my friend and me, it serves well in many other circumstances.

    It came to mind today as I pondered the life story of Grandma Moses, who first applied paint to canvas in her seventies. A link below provides a brief look at her life, which ended at age 101.

    One hundred one. Just think about that for a moment. The day she picked up a brush, I expect many people were skeptical. Hopefully they kept that negative thought to themselves. Many, I am sure, smiled politely, perhaps daring to offer the ofttimes dismissive, “Well,bless her heart.”

    Bless her heart, indeed. At her death, she had generated more than 2,000 paintings. One of the favorites, The Old Checkered House, donned the cover of Time magazine on December 28, 1953.

    If you like art. If you’re certain you aren’t good at it. If you’re the one who says you don’t have an artistic bone in your body. Well, here several things to consider:

    You never know what the day will bring.

    Grandma Moses began her art career at age 78.

    Listen to today’s podcast, featuring Tucson artist Jeanine Colini, who loves to help adults uncover the artist within.

    Jeanine Colini Podcast