Remembering Ray Abbott

REMEMBERING RAY ABBOTT

The family requests that we share with you the news that Raymond H. Abbott Jr., 86, of Jackson, NH, passed away October 3, 2017, at Memorial Hospital. He was a fifth generation Jackson native and son of Raymond Abbott Sr. and Elizabeth Cotton Abbott. Ray will be missed by his family and many others in the community.

Services

The community is invited to his funeral service, which will be held at the Jackson Community Church on Friday morning, Oct 13th at 11am. This will be followed by a brief graveside service at the village’s cemetery with military honors and a reception at the Red Fox. Family, friends, and neighbors are invited to join Ray Abbott’s family for these observances.

Note: In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the Gibson Center, which was a great help to Ray for the last several years of his life.

More About Ray

Ray Abbott is survived by his son Marshall and his wife Angela, his daughter Gatia McChesney and husband Michael, three granddaughters and his ex-wife and friend Pamela Abbott.

After high school, Ray joined the Air Force and served as a B29 pilot in Korea. After the service, he returned to Jackson where he became very involved in local and state businesses and politics. He owned and operated Abbotts’ Variety Store, Abbott’s Ski Lodge and also worked the farm at the family homestead.

Later he helped build Wildcat Ski Area and was the Operations Manager for 21 years. Following his time at Wildcat, he purchased and operated Conway Tractor and Equipment Corp. in Redstone for 23 years. During these years, Ray was heavily involved in state and local politics including Jackson Selectman for 10 years, Jackson Moderator for 32 years, County Commissioner for 10 years and New Hampshire Aeronautics Commissioner for 10 years. He worked on numerous presidential, congressional and gubernatorial campaigns.He also found time to enjoy vacations with his family and operate his own airplane flying out of the North Conway Airport.

Inspired by St Francis, plus hope responding to shootings & earthquakes & volcanoes & hurricanes & fires

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures — Excerpt from Canticle of the Sun by St Francis of Assisi

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)
Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.


Hope & Purpose

There is a saying in Tibetan, ‘Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.’ No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster. ― Dalai Lama XIV

Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose ― Viktor Frankl

Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance. — Robert Kennedy

The spiritual task of life is to feed hope. Hope is not something to be found outside of us. It lies in the spiritual life we cultivate within. — Joan Chittister

Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness. —Desmond Tutu

Our human compassion binds us the one to the other – not in pity or patronizingly – but as human beings who have learnt how to turn our common suffering into hope for the future. — Nelson Mandela

You cannot hope to build a better world without improving the individuals. To that end, each of us must work for his own improvement and, at the same time, share a general responsibility for all humanity, our particular duty being to aid those to whom we think we can be most useful. — Marie Curie

Western civilization places so much emphasis on the idea of hope that we sacrifice the present moment. Hope is for the future. It cannot help us discover joy, peace, or enlightenment in the present moment … I do not mean that you should not have hope, but that hope is not enough. Hope can create an obstacle for you, and if you dwell in the energy of hope, you will not bring yourself back entirely into the present moment. If you re-channel those energies into being aware of what is going on in the present moment, you will be able to make a breakthrough and discover joy and peace right in the present moment, inside of yourself and all around you. — Thich Nhat Hahn, Peace In Every Step

Violence

Violence isn’t a Democrat or Republican problem. It’s an American problem, requiring an American solution. — DaShanne Stokes

A coward’s gun is emptied when fear pulls the trigger, and hate is the ammunition of choice. ― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph Over Death and Conscious Encounters with The Divine Presence

In the developed world, these levels of gun violence are a uniquely American problem. — German Lopez, Vox

We’ve heard these words before. We’ve heard them far too often only to have the next mass shooting supersede the former … From Sandy Hook to Texas to Charleston to Virginia Tech to Pulse to Las Vegas…Lord, hear our cries and compel us to act. — Rev Traci Blackmon, ucc.org commentary

We’ll pray for Las Vegas, some of us will get motivated, some of us won’t get motivated. The bills will be written, they’ll get watered down, they’ll fail. … over time we’ll get distracted, and we’ll move on to the next thing. And it’ll happen again, and again. — Jimmy Kimmel

Blessing of Hope
— Jan Richardson

So may we know
the hope
that is not just
for someday
but for this day—
here, now,
in this moment
that opens to us:

hope not made
of wishes
but of substance,

hope made of sinew
and muscle
and bone,

hope that has breath
and a beating heart,

hope that will not
keep quiet
and be polite,

hope that knows
how to holler
when it is called for,

hope that knows
how to sing
when there seems
little cause,

hope that raises us
from the dead—

not someday
but this day,
every day,
again and
again and
again.

Reflections on water & respite in hard times and places

As one commentator says, “there are many kinds of thirst.” Where do we find respite and rescue in the midst of dry, hard, troubled times? What are the wastelands of our lives? Where do signs of life surprise us in our personal and communal “desert places”?

You should not see the desert simply as some faraway place of little rain. There are many forms of thirst. — William Langewiesche
Water Water Water Wind Water Juan Felipe Herrera
water water water wind water
across the land shape of a torn heart
… again and again a new land edge emerges
a new people emerges where race and class and death
and life and water and tears and loss
and life and death destruction and life and tears
compassion and loss and a fire …
rumbles toward you all directions wherever
you are alive still

If you don’t die of thirst, there are blessings in the desert. You can be pulled into limitlessness, which we all yearn for, or you can do the beauty of minutiae, the scrimshaw of tiny and precise. The sky is your ocean, and the crystal silence will uplift you like great gospel music, or Neil Young. — Anne Lamott

What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well. —Antoine de Saint-Exupery

This is the sense of the desert hills, and there is room enough and time enough. — Mary Hunter Austin

Water is life’s mater and matrix, mother and medium. There is no life without water. — Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the wilderness, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and great commandment nonetheless. Even in the wilderness–especially in the wilderness–you shall love [God]. — Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember: Uncollected Pieces

Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure. — Francis of Assisi

I alternate between thinking of the planet as home–dear and familiar stone hearth and garden–and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. — Annie Dillard

Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected … On the other hand, wretchedness–life’s painful aspect–softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right into somebody’s eyes because you feel you haven’t got anything to lose–you’re just there … Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us. They go together. ― Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are

… there are no crows in the desert. What appear to be crows are ravens. You must examine the crow, however, before you can understand the raven. To forget the crow completely, as some have tried to do, would be like trying to understand the one who stayed without talking to the one who left. It is important to make note of who has left the desert. — Barry López, Desert Notes: Reflections in the Eye of a Raven

New Water
— Sharon Chmielarz
All those years—almost a hundred—
the farm had hard water.
Hard orange. Buckets lined in orange.
Sink and tub and toilet, too,
once they got running water.
And now, in less than a lifetime,
just by changing the well’s location,
in the same yard, mind you,
the water’s soft, clear, delicious to drink.
All those years to shake your head over.
Look how sweet life has become;
you can see it in the couple who live here,
their calmness as they sit at their table,

the beauty as they offer you new water to drink.

DesertJosephine Miles

When with the skin you do acknowledge drought,
The dry in the voice, the lightness of feet, the fine
Flake of the heat at every level line;

When with the hand you learn to touch without
Surprise the spine for the leaf, the prickled petal,
The stone scorched in the shine, and the wood brittle;

Then where the pipe drips and the fronds sprout
And the foot-square forest of clover blooms in sand,
You will lean and watch, but never touch with your hand.