Cambodia: Angkor, 2005

In 2005, my son, David and my mate, Jeff spent two months in Hong Kong, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand. This would be David’s first trip to his other homeland (Cambodia) and Jeff’s and my first return to Vietnam since the war! I was inspired to post this by reading a travelogue on Vietnam and Cambodia written by Jean’s friend, Brigette. Summer 2005:

Battambang to Siem Reap & Angkor

Bayon, part of Angkor

What a day. Started at 0600 in Battambang with moto ride from our hotel to another hotel to buy boat ticket. Got to “Port of Battambang” about 0630. To get to the boat to Siem Reap we walked down steep steel steps maybe 100 -120 feet with too much space between each step and we were each carrying a large backpack. We climbed aboard the semi-crowded boat and waited for 0700. Shortly before then a police officer and someone else came down to ask to see our tickets. We were on the wrong boat. We moved to the next boat, which had a higher awning/roof – a very good thing. Plus, we were the only passengers! Off we went down the river and though we picked up a few passengers, it was never crowded. The boat was a “rooster tail” boat with propeller that stuck way out behind and when the speed picked up, there was a large plume of water about 10 feet high.

Angkor Wat in the morning

The river was fascinating. High banks most of the way, brown water all the way, and people on the shores most of the way. We cruised (so to say) though the backs of river people’s homes, some of which were boats, some hooches on stilts, some floating homes like on rafts, and some pretty nice. People were bathing in the river, fixing breakfast, fishing, and in general, carrying on with life. Children would run to the shore or stand on their boat homes and wave, shouting “HELLO”. One little boy about 3 years old ran to the shore, shouting and when we waved and shouted back he got all consternated and went stumbling backwards. We saw a great mud slide running from the top of the bank to the river and tiny boys hurtling naked and laughing down the the mud into the river. Reminded me of Chris and David when they were little, playing in the mud in our back yard.

As we got closer to Tonle Sap, the great lake and source of food in Cambodia, the river widened and the banks became less steep. Many river people along this section and more and more lotuses or some aquatic plants growing in the water. At several points they covered the entire river and there was nothing to do but fire on through, creating a brown and green rooster tail. Jeff looked back and said, “Man, we were jammin’ through them plants. It looked like a vegetarian with diarrhea.”

Someone’s home near Battambang

Finally we broke on through to the other side – to Tonle Sap. What a sight – huge brown lake with the shores out of sight. David and I were both deeply touched as the lake is so central to the life and well-being of Cambodia.

Got to dropping off point for Siem Reap and took a moto with a little trailer attached up the most amazing rutted road to Siem Reap. The ride was really bad – especially after a 5 hour boat ride – though David found the boat nothing but enjoyable. Got two rooms at Two Dragons Guest House. Very nice, very clean. $23 USD for a twin and single room with AC together first night, then went out and checked other places and negotiated down to $18 USD for the two rooms. Took off to Angkor Wat to see the sunset. The place to see the sunset was up seriously deteriorated and steep steps, but not bad for a millennium of use. When we got to the top, there was a second summit with an ancient temple on top. The steps up the temple were 12-16 inch risers with about 5-6 inch steps. It had just rained and was still sprinkling, so another interesting climb. The reward was immense, however. Again, David and I were deeply touched.

Tomorrow we head out at 0500 to watch sunrise. More later.

The street where our guesthouse was in Siem Reap

Siem Reap & Angkor

We’re staying at the Two Dragons GH, down a small dirt (muddy) lane off a side street in SR. There is no traffic and the people around are friendly. The GH is run by an American ex-pat who is out of town at the moment. Two Dragons is very clean, food excellent – but expensive, like $2.75 USD for pat si ew, and there are great photos on the walls. All in all a nice place.

We got some little battery-operated speakers in HK that are attached to portable CD or MP3 players. So here we are in this clean, AC room listening to Robert Earl Keen, Van Morrison, Willie, U2, Beethoven, Bach, and so on. It’s good, all right.

Except I had a long night with multiple multiple trips to bathroom. Still feeling bad in the morning, but, onward.

We got up at 0430 for an 0500 pickup by tuk-tuk to see sunrise over Angkor Wat.
– Angkor = the entire temple complex.
– Angkor Wat = most commonly pictured temple – 12th century – 5 towers on an elevated platform 1025×800 meters with towers and so on representing the universe.
– Bayon = Buddhist and Hindu ruin with huge faces set into the towers – most faces of the Boddhisatva Avaloketshivara (not sure spelling name)

Sunrise was beautiful. There were probably more than a 100 people there for sunrise, but no problem at all finding places where they were not. David and I walked up the long stone walkway across the moat through to the central building and on through to the other side. Stunning views in every direction. Walked past Angkor Wat to a smaller building same era and then through a cool and kind of eerie forest (though I sweated through my trousers – like the Hotel California guy in Bangkok) and back around to the front. By now the long night was catching up to me.

We went to one of the open air restaurants near the temple to use the restroom and have something to eat. The restroom, such as it was, was interesting. The water tank for use cleaning and flushing was shared by the two stalls. Made me think of the Seinfeld when Elaine was in the restroom and couldn’t get the woman next to her to pass over any toilet paper. In this case, however, the dipper was passed.

Bayon (Photo beginning of post) was next – a huge pile of ruins, with multiple towers, each with large faces carved into the blocks of stone. Many small corridors, cool and dark and nobody around.

By now I was weakening with abdominal pain, diarrhea, and dehydration – so I went back to the guesthouse and lay in the bed in a stupor – except of course, for those fast trips to the head. I thought David or someone was standing outside the room at the door, knocking with a quarter, but I was too feverish to answer and it was so hot. It turned out the overhead fan has an irregular clicking sound and it was all just a dream. David and Jeff got back in the afternoon. By then I was better, especially after David turned on the AC. David and I talked for awhile and he fell asleep, as did I.

The rain started later. This is my 3rd monsoon and I am so happy to be in it – though I hope it is not as heavy as the 2nd one in Vietnam, when water covered everything but the highest points and I got trench foot such that my feet were like two gross pink cantaloupes and I had to crawl everywhere for a week.

Musicians along a path in Angkor

So yeah, let it rain. LET IT RAIN. To be here with my son is a blessing beyond belief.

In Siem Reap

The past few days have been a true highlight of my life, despite the gastrointestinal issues: Traveling down the river to the Tonle Sap, being on the great lake itself, and now for the past three days, being in Angkor – and all with my son and my best friend. Photo: Angkor Wat

Angkor is breathtaking. For 25 years (since we first began our work with Cambodian refugees) I have wanted to see this and had begun to think, maybe I would not. So, to walk in and around Angkor has been like a dream – I mean it really felt like a dream – especially walking up the long roads leading to the structures and for most, hearing a drum in the distance and as we got closer, the sounds of other traditional Khmer instruments. Outside of most temples there is a group of 3-6 musicians sitting on a mat playing traditional music. All these musicians are disabled in some way, many from landmines – no legs, blind, arm gone – playing this haunting true trance music.

I watched them at weddings and ceremonies in Dallas over the years. The way it works is they come into the place where they will play, sit on a mat with their instruments, light incense, offer (to the muse?) cigarettes and whiskey, and begin to tune. And as they tune, they begin to come together and in a while, take off all together.

So we’re slow-walking through 1000 year old temples, monasteries, funerary structures, and the like, going deeper and deeper until the sounds of the Japanese and Korean

tourists are gone and there are only the sounds of the forest and our own occasional conversations. It’s hot here, but not bad in the shade and we’re slow-walking for sure through series of doorways through the centers of the structures, through narrow dark corridors, across jumbled piles of large sandstone blocks at the edges, and along dirt paths through the forest outside. And coming back, as we near the entrance, again, the sounds of the music.

Oh! I feel so good, so right
in my heart
in my life
in my soul

From Siem Reap we went to Phnom Penh, the capitol of Cambodia and that’s another story.

 

Writing a book, memories

Worthwhile to click this photo

Sometime around 1988 my mother was diagnosed with small cell carcinoma of the lung, a type of lung cancer with few survivors. At the time she was living in the small house we built for her behind our house in days memorable for their sweetness with David playing at Grandmother Mary’s house standing on a little step stool (the stool is in my utility room 40 years later) at her kitchen sink playing in the water, helping her cook, just being there and all of us having dinner together several times/week, hanging out in the back yard, hanging out at my Mom’s and Leslie’s and my house where in the living room we had taken some of the furniture out to fit in a giant (~7x4x4) heavy cardboard refrigerator box I’d gotten behind Weir’s Furniture store and cut a little door in to fit 2-3-4 year old children and there was a window and a blanket on the floor

Lung cancer, natural history 1 (See multiple potential causes of difficulty breathing in lung cancer, some of which can be alleviated or even eliminated.)

inside and lots of pillows and stuffed animals – altogether a much better entertainment center than a TV! But back to my Mom and the book…

To her situation I brought some solid hospice experience, some good clinical skills and knowledge, some understanding of the end of life, and a commitment to take good care of my Mom. At the onset of all this I thought I would ramp up the care I would give by reaching a greater depth of understanding of lung cancer. My explorations evolved into a kind of chart that explicated what I thought of as the natural history of small cell carcinoma, including the most common sites of metastases, oncologic emergencies, and paraneoplastic syndromes. I consulted and clarified the chart throughout her illness and in at least one instance I was able to instantly identify and intervene in an oncology emergency (cord compression) before it became an emergency.

A few years after my Mom died (https://ckjournal.com/how-my-mom-died) I thought I would expand on what I’d done re the natural history of cancer. To that end I charted the natural histories of the 18 most lethal tumors leading to death in the US. Each tumor type was broken down into:

  • Primary tumor
  • Sites of metastases
  • Problems related to the primary tumor and metastases
  • Assessment parameters

(Later these tables were reproduced and further expanded in a series of articles in the American Journal of Hospice and Palliative Care.)

The tables anchored my book, Terminal Illness: A Guide to Nursing Care, published by J.B. Lippincott (1995, 1999). The book also explored individual and family responses to terminal illness, spiritual and cultural issues at the end of life, pain and other common physical problems, and diseases other than cancer encountered in hospice and palliative care. It took about two years to write.

Lung cancer, natural history 2

The reason for writing the book was to improve the care of people at the end of life. It was intended primarily for hospice nurses and others working in hospice and palliative care, who, in the course of one week might see patients with cancers of the lung, colon, pancreas, head and neck, and someone with end stage myasthenia gravis. And in the next week see patients with cancers of the esophagus, prostate, ovaries, and so on. That’s a challenge to provide quality care to people with so many different problems! The book was a tool for doing quality care at the end of life, a tool for practicing loving kindness.

For Absence

(A blessing for those who have left us and for we who are still here – the author is John O’Donohue) 

May you know that absence is alive with hidden presence, that nothing is ever lost or forgotten.

Not far from our home somebody made this sculpture/memorial for a good old dog who passed away. Good Boy!

May the absences in your life grow full of eternal echo.

May you sense around you the secret Elsewhere where the presences that have left you dwell.

May you be generous in your embrace of loss.

May the sore well of grief turn into a seamless flow of presence.

May your compassion reach out to the ones we never hear from.

May you have the courage to speak for the excluded ones.

Make you become the gracious and passionate subject of your own life.

May you not disrespect your mystery through brittle words or false belonging.

May you be embraced by God in whom dawn and twilight are one.

May your longing inhabit its dreams within the Great Belonging.

______

Jean gave me a book of blessings, To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue. We read from it most mornings and take great inspiration from the reading. It is a wonderful way to start the day – a blessing in itself.  

Biblical parallels with Alex Pretti’s death

“the executioner’s face is always well-hidden”

Once again, I see parallels between what is happening in Minnesota and the teachings of Christ. Alex Pretti’s last words — spoken to a woman whom an ICE agent had pushed to the frozen concrete — were, “Are you okay?”

Jesus said, “Blessed are the merciful.”

There are other parts of the Beatitudes that apply. When Alex addressed the agent who pushed the woman, he said, “Don’t touch her!”

Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness.”

It is noteworthy that Alex was a nurse — an RN working in the VA intensive care unit. He died after being beaten by 5 or 6 ICE agents, while on his knees, unarmed, and shot multiple times in the back.

Jesus taught: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.”

Exactly how we die isn’t the main thing; the main thing is how we live. His manner of dying was terrible and in no way blessed. But he and his life were a blessing.

The defining thing in Alex Pretti’s life seems to have been a commitment to practicing mercy. Thank you, Brother.

Make no mistake: Trump did it. ICE and the unspeakably vile Miller and Noem bear responsibility, but this is all on Trump. Resist!

Renee Good: Biblical parallels

Jesus said, “Forgive them for they know not what they do.” Luke 23:34
The soldiers went ahead and killed Jesus.

Renee said, ““That’s fine, dude. I’m not mad at you.”
The ICE agent killed Renee (and he videoed it!).

Renee Nicole Good Renee Good has long, blonde, curly hair and is wearing a red off-the-shoulder top. The ocean is in the background.

The soldiers played at dice for Jesus’ clothes
After he killed Renee, the agent said, “Fucking bitch.”

The agent’s father said, “He’s a committed, conservative Christian…”

Jesus wept.

Her name was Good.

Just following orders: For Senator Mark Kelly

Just not following orders. 

“I was just following orders.”  It didn’t work for the nazis and in the end it won’t work for Trump’s minions. Here is an account of not following orders that somehow became something bigger than a brief altercation. I don’t think it was an unlawful order or even that big a deal, but when it was over I realized we’d been playing for higher stakes than I thought – my soul. What follows is taken directly from my blog post, Vietnam 66-67, Part 2: Hill 55, Dodge City.

The point is to affirm that decisions and actions can have positive and/or negative consequences.

Standing with Senator Kelly 

***

It never occurred to me that I would write this. It was something to keep secret and inside me forever; something to take out now and then, turning it over in my mind like the treasure it is (to me, anyway). I told Jeff a few years ago, but he already knew about it, even though he was not on that patrol.

We were on a long patrol – past even Dodge City. It had been raining for several days or maybe several weeks. I had this raincoat that was far superior to a poncho. I doubt many people ever wore a poncho past their first gunfight with one of those awkward things in the way of everything – I loved my raincoat. We were 3-4 days out, in an area we’d not seen before. We came to a ville (village) and moved around and through it. The plan was to round up everyone in the ville and search the place and people for weapons.

I came to a hooch (hut) with a bunker (all the hooches had bunkers in that neighborhood) and inside the bunker were several women and some children. The interesting thing was that one of the women was wet – even her hair, which told me pretty clearly that she had been doing something in a hurry before we got into the ville, i.e., she was VC. The other woman was holding a baby and the baby was crying, the thin, weak cry of a very sick baby.

I was standing there looking at them and it was like I could see myself as they saw me. I was death – unshaven, dirty death. The only clean thing about me was my machine-gun and

 it was immaculate. The gun oiled, every round in the 200-round belt perfectly cleaned, inspected – all truly perfect. I was looking at them and they were looking at me.

I was thinking, screw this. I’m not going to jack with these people. So I just stayed there, watching them. I had decided not to force them out, but not wanting to be killed, would never have taken my eyes off them. So we’re there, they, no doubt wondering what is going to happen and me, just very comfortable with my decision. At some point I tossed a couple of cans of C-ration ham or whatever into the bunker. They probably thought I was tossing grenades – they never touched the cans.

Then trouble. The lieutenant running the patrol came over and the interaction went something like this:

“Get those people out of there.”

“There’s a sick baby in there.”

“I don’t give a shit. Get them out of there.”

“There’s a sick baby in there.”

“I said, get them out, now.”

I was thinking, I guess I’m going to have to kill him, but he read my eyes and saw what I was thinking before I could act and he pointed his rifle in my direction (he always carried an M1 carbine, a silly weapon for which I had only contempt – but, an M1 pointed at someone trumps an M60 in the other direction, if you know what I mean) and there was nothing I could do because my weapon was already pointed pretty much down and to the left. Even though I was a lot better gunfight-wise than this guy, there was just no way I could get to him faster than he could get to me.

“I’m giving you an order, Marine. Get those goddam mother-fucking people out of there right now!”

Then two things happened.

The Big Hair (Harris) was off to the side and he put his weapon on the lieutenant and said something like, “Be careful, lieutenant.” Whew, what a relief. Then, the people in the bunker started coming out! The lieutenant walked off muttering threats. Harris smiled at me. “Yeah, man – fuckin’-A.” When the woman carrying the baby came out in the rain I stopped her and I took off my raincoat and gave it to her. She had no clue what that was about so I had to drape it over her. It was like the coat of a giant to her. Ridiculous.

I remember leaving the ville with all those people standing there in the rain and that sad-sack woman with her sick baby standing there with my raincoat dragging the ground.

Redemption song. Making a choice. I chose Life.

Thoughts on life review at an advanced age

The final stage or conflict (or state of mind or life theme) in life is integrity vs. despair. As with so much else in a person’s life, these states of mind are not necessarily clear-cut. I think what we want to do is incline ourselves toward integrity vs. inclining toward despair or kind of drifting along with under-lying despair. How does that happen?

Andy’s Dream by Jean Cacicedo. Used with permission.

I believe it’s true that we’re generally doing the best we can under the circumstances. Most of us could sometimes do better, but still, looking back, not bad.

It’s not about accomplishments in the common use of that concept. For some people it’s a great, great accomplishment to be a half-way decent person – to not be abusive or mean. I mean, wouldn’t it be a beautiful world if everybody was non-abusive, not mean, not a cheater! So yes, good work, mate!

One way to move toward positive resolution (integrity or integration) is to deepen one’s life review. I say “deepen” because most people do think about their life, even when they try not to think about it. Too often we focus on negatives, losses, mistakes, failures, bad things beyond our control (like a hard childhood or poverty or death), and stay stuck on those parts or even pretend that they don’t exist. But they do. How does one get past failures or lacks in life? Here we go with one conception of the deepened life review.

(Life review is a psychological, emotional, social, and ultimately spiritual process of exploring one’s life past and present, how it unfolded, choices made, relationships, losses, patterns, themes, values, and other core dimensions of a life.)

One way to review in a holistic way is think about in detail 5-8 things in each of the below categories:

  • What is missing in life now (people, activities, abilities).
  • Wonderful things that have happened.
  • Regrets and mistakes and bad things that happened, including those we had no control over.
  • Hard times and getting through them.
  • Good moves/accomplishments.

Looking closely at these, we can see that there may much to grieve, there may be things that have wounded us, things that have wounded others, things that are hard to see and accept, things that were and were not our fault. It is my firm belief that going deep into the negatives is necessary to really see the positives – the beautiful things, the life accomplishments, the strengths, the beauty in not being mean.

Ahhh, the beautiful Wind Rivers

There are other life review processes. My focus is on words, but of course there are other means of expression such as art, music, and other ways of self-expression. Many include recommendations to do it as part formal group or with professional guidance. That’s not necessary. Google or ChatGPT will yield several structures for doing one’s own life review.

Life review processes or techniques include:

  • Mapping time, e.g., a history of life (key events, motivators, people, emotions, decisions, stressors, etc.)
  • Taking a deep dive into turning points and thresholds (what was life like before and after and after the change, what inner and outer resources were involved, what was left behind and gained, and what issues still linger).
  • Writing letters to my younger self at three specific ages/turning points.
  • Writing four to five “stories that made me who I am today,” including lessons learned.
  • These are directed toward integration vs. nostalgia.

It is a worthy thing to do is write one’s obituary, eulogy, or things you would like to be remembered for after you die.

6 am

This is written with the idea that some readers might consider this for themselves. Any age is a good time to do it. Old age is an especially good time to do it.

Background: Based on experience and other explorations of life and death I developed training for staff in the first hospice in Texas. Training included values clarification and life review for everyone who would be working in hospice (originally called the “obituary exercise”). The idea was to increase self-awareness and thus increase understanding and empathy around this major life event – the end of a life. Every training, class, or workshop included a lot of content on the practicalities of physical care at the end of life. Variations on the initial training continued in the original hospice, other hospice programs, workshops, and into undergraduate and graduate courses on the end of life. I also taught values clarification and life review as tools to use in working with patients and families facing the end of life.

We were at a friend’s home, talking. My friend said, “I haven’t really accomplished much in life.” I looked around and thought, “What a beautiful home and life you’ve created. Actually (I thought) you’re a truly beautiful person.”

Life review – thoughts

I began listing a few things I miss in my life now. I tried to limit it to 5-8 things. That led to consideration of beautiful times, which led to…

Things I miss

  • Leslie.
  • Backpacking in the wilderness.
  • Being a part of the global underground, especially trance gatherings in the forest.
  • Related to the above, DMT, MDMA, LSD/psychedelics, smoking cannabis.
  • Smoking cigarettes.
  • Of course I miss being strong, quick, pain-free, all that kind of thing.
  • I don’t miss work, though if I was younger and stronger I would certainly be deeply invested in working as I once did. I just don’t have much strive left. I feel that I did the best I could – I left it all on the field.
  • Gardening.
  • Sunday mornings with David, like at the rail yard; having lunch every week with David in California.
  • Flying across the mighty Pacific in a 747 on the way to or from another two-month trip to Asia.

Some beautiful times

  • Being in the chow hall they had set up for the sole use of Marines returning from Vietnam and I was eating chocolate cake and drinking cold milk (as much as I wanted!) and listening to Groovin’ by Young Rascals on the jukebox. I was alive!
  • Getting to the bottom of a >1000 foot glissade down Twins Glacier in the Wind River mountains past the crux of a great trek and it was my 65th birthday!
  • Sitting in the kitchen with Jeff in the apartment on Oram (so homey, walls with a little sideways slant, painted yellow), coming on to Orange Sunshine. Truly, truly, everything was perfect.
  • Marrying and being married to Leslie.
  • Being in Burma, being exactly where Supilawyet sat “By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea…” In Kathmandu, Bangkok, Saigon, Sapa, Hue, Granada, Santa Fe, Mendocino, Berkeley, all those places!
  • Being on a 747 coming home after two months in Asia at the perfect intersection of the perfect trip and going home.
  • Being married to Jean, living in Berkeley, living in Northern California!
  • My work (hospice, refugees, teaching, scholarship, serving, being part of the good).
  • Sooo many mornings lying in bed, having coffee together, talking…

Mistakes and regrets

  • Being a fuck-up in elementary and high school.
  • Smoking cigarettes.
  • Saying stupid things (multiple instances).
  • Wasted time, especially related to anger.
  • Never getting straight with my father – I’m not talking about forgiveness; it’s something else, but I’m not sure what.

Hard times

  • The war in Vietnam, especially the Hill Fights
  • When Leslie was sick and after she died.
  • Much of my childhood and teen years.

Good moves/accomplishments

  • Learning to be a good parent – Thanks, Leslie!
  • Being (for the most part) a good husband to Leslie and Jean and for the most part, a good Dad to David.
  • Becoming a nurse.
  • All the scholarship (books, articles, papers).
  • Hospice and refugee work, Agape; learning how different people live; being part of so many lives.
  • LSD, MDMA, psytrance.
  • Starting back to Backpacking in my 60s; dropping back into the global underground also in my 60s.
  • Staying true to the vision for the last 60 years of my life.
  • Taking good care of my mother and of Leslie at the end of their lives.

Eulogy

Eulogy, Charles Kemp

(10-minute reading, so relax)

Born August 30, 1944, in Tyler, Texas. Died ______________ in Berkeley, California. His greatest achievement in life was overcoming the karma of a difficult childhood and becoming a decent man, husband, and father.

He dropped out of high school in his senior year and spent a year and a half as a “climbing bum,” rock-climbing and hitch-hiking around Colorado and Wyoming, and working as a short-order and dinner cook. After returning to Dallas he completed high school, then returned west to climb. He started college but dropped out and joined the Marines in 1965.

After eight months of training, he was sent to Vietnam as an infantryman in the 26th Marine Regiment Special Landing Force. He saw heavy combat throughout his 13-month tour of duty near the DMZ but was only slightly wounded. He was proud to have fought in both the 26th Marines and 9th Marines in Operation Deckhouse (IV and V), Operation Prairie, the Hill Fights, Con Thien, Dodge City, and other engagements. Decorations included the Purple Heart, Combat Action Ribbon, Presidential Unit Citation, Navy Unit Commendation, and others. He learned that life is a gift. His entire life he was grateful to be alive.

He returned home in 1967 and attended college for a few semesters, but much of 1967-1972 was spent integrating the experience of the war with civilian life. He married his high school sweetheart, Leslie, in 1969. They had met outside the cafeteria at Thomas Jefferson High School when they were 16 – it was love at first sight and it endured. They were married 45 years. His healing came through Leslie, LSD, and the personal strengths he carried within. In 1972, he returned to school and graduated magna cum laude in 1975 from Baylor University School of Nursing. After working in community health for several years he entered graduate school in 1977 at the University of Texas at Austin, earning a master’s degree in psychiatric nursing.

In 1978, he founded the first hospice in Texas, the Visiting Nurse Association Home Hospice, serving as its director and hospice clinical specialist. Under his leadership the VNA Home Hospice had the largest daily census in the US and became a National Hospice Demonstration Project. He worked with people at the end of life for most of the rest of his life.

He taught at Texas Woman’s University and Baylor University, where he led courses in end-of-life care, psychiatric nursing, and community health nursing. Under his guidance in clinical settings, students took on expanded service-learning roles in planning and delivering health services in underserved refugee communities. In 2000, he completed the family nurse practitioner program at Baylor. He worked as an FNP at the Agape Clinic serving mainly immigrants and refugees for the rest of his career.

Hospice care, refugee health, community health, and primary care were the primary focuses of his career. Most of his professional work centered on building and sustaining collective efforts involving multiple individuals and entities. Throughout his life he was committed to doing and teaching compassion. He authored three books, over 70 articles in professional journals, and numerous papers.

In addition to hospice work, he had sole or primary responsibility for planning, implementing, and/or securing funding for the below.

  • District health services through Baylor School of Nursing and community agencies serving refugees
  • Expansion of the Agape Clinic
  • Vietnam Veterans Resource Center (later part of the VA VSO service)
  • The East Dallas Health Coalition, a community-oriented primary care clinic now open seven days a week with multiple adult and pediatric services

These and other services benefitted thousands of people. Most are still in operation today.

In addition to his Marine Corps decorations, awards included inclusion in the Great 150 Baylor graduates over the 150 years of Baylor’s history, Fellow of the American Academy Nursing (national), the Abner V. McCall Humanitarian Award (Baylor University), Faculty Award for Excellence from Elsevier Science (national award), Outstanding University Scholar at Baylor, Outstanding University Lecturer at Baylor, Margaret Stein Award for Outstanding Service in Community Health (national), Presidential Citation Vietnam Veterans of America (national), Outstanding Volunteer from Dallas Volunteer Center/ARCO, J.C. Penney Golden Rule Award, and other awards from the Dallas Police, DFW Vietnamese Community, DISD, State of Texas, Presbyterian Church, and others.

He was a serious baker, gardener, and rosarian. He was a backpacker with numerous treks in Wyoming and Colorado, culminating in a 10-day trip deep in the Wind River Wilderness to celebrate his 65th birthday. In his 60s, he reconnected with his hippie roots through involvement in the psychedelic trance scene. He (re)learned to dance in these underground forest parties and led workshops on the end of life and psychedelic therapy at gatherings in Texas, Colorado, and New Mexico.

He and Leslie adopted their son, David, at birth, and took great joy in “our little family.” David was a good and faithful son to Leslie and Charles. Charles and Leslie worked closely together in the Cambodian refugee community and at the Agape Clinic. From the time David was a baby riding on Charles’ shoulders to now David has been involved in these efforts to serve the poor and for justice. They found happiness in their simple family life, their home, and in working and traveling together. Leslie died in 2015, and Charles cared for her during her final months. They had been married for 45 years.

Written in the beautiful city of Hue in Central Vietnam in 2012: We went to the Thien Mu Pagoda, 45 minutes up the perfume river from Hue. This where the monk Thich Quang Duc lived before he went to Saigon in 1966 to immolate himself in protest against the VN government and the war. The pagoda and grounds were quietly beautiful – understated and mossy with just a few people around and a view from the grounds across the wide river, past the plains, to these mist-covered mountains where we fought and bled, where so many from every side fought and bled and died, aching for life – me for a beautiful dark-haired girl whose photo was so washed out from the constant slogging through rain and padi water that only the shadow of her left eye was left and now, 45 years later, looking across the room from where I write she’s sitting on the bed, the love of my life, beautiful, her hair white now and here we are in Hue and I look out through the glass-paned doors through the mist toward palm trees and mossy buildings.

In 2021, after living together for five years, he married the artist Jean Cacicedo. Together they enjoyed an “endless summer” (that lasted more than two years), the magic of Berkeley, countless intimate days, and the fullest life imaginable. They traveled all over California, Colorado, Montana, and Wyoming, and in Asia and Europe. They prepared numerous meals together, endured health challenges, got through the pandemic together, and they lived happily ever after in Paradise (Berkeley).

He was fulfilled in every respect.

He is survived by his son, David Kemp; his wife, Jean Cacicedo; and his brother, John Kemp.

“Walking downhill in Paradise”

Avenue of Trees on the way into cabin near Mendocino

Parked on Cedar Street, walked past one beautiful garden after another (it’s mostly gardens here, not lawns), walked past the original Peet’s on Vine at Walnut and down to the Cheese Board Collective on Shattuck. Standing in line at the Cheese Board today, surrounded by people more or less like me. What a great thing to be able to do this quintessential Berkeley thing, walking through a beautiful community and standing in line for a great bakery. People and dogs walking by, people sitting and standing at the sidewalk tables, babies and old pe

Red Sea Orange Feather

ople and everyone in-between. Inside, past all the great cheeses and on to the bread counter. Got sourdough batard, spelt loaf, cheese roll, double chocolate cookies. I do this once a week, along with trips to a truly great produce market and to the big and unique Berkeley Bowl.

In the past two months we had lovely three-day visits from David and Charles and from Jean’s niece Anne and her great niece Beatrice. They were the first overnight visitors we’ve had since the downstairs bathroom was redone and everything worked well.

Red Sea Orange Feather

Drove to Carmel for a show at the Carl Cherry Art Center featuring Jean’s and Janet Lipkin’s work. It was the first time I’ve seen Jean’s work on a person and finally I really get it that these coats she’s made are sculptures. https://carlcherrycenter.org

Peter Goodman wrote a book about his family bakery on Telegraph Avenue in the 1950s and 60s. The Berkeley Historical Society sponsored an event around the book and about a hundred people showed up. Lotta white hair and canes in that crowd!

The mighty Pacific from van

Drove to Mendocino. Stayed in a nice cabin across from the small town of Mendocino on the other side of a fjord-like inlet along the Pacific coast. From Mendocino you can barely see the cabin on the headland among the trees. Spent a beautiful day at the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens. The dahlias are in full and breathtaking bloom. https://www.gardenbythesea.org

The journey with getting the VA to recognize my service-related challenges is over with my goals achieved.

Watching the sun go down behind Mount Tam with the mighty Pacific stretching endlessly beyond into the great beyond. And in the morning in the hot tub looking out over the SF Bay with fragrant Philadelphius flowers hanging down above us.

Morning from deck

I’ve been writing my obituary and planning my funeral. One of the “tasks” at the end of life (or, preferably before the end of life) is a “life review.” Involvement in hospice and related work has led to an understanding of the importance of reviewing and an obituary is really a summary statement of review (and thus is worth doing).

Happy Birthday in Mendocino Coastal Gardens

I flew to Dallas for an appointment. The flight was scheduled for 6pm, delayed until after 8pm, and after an hour and a half, turned around and went back to Oakland. There were emergency vehicles lined up where we landed, but nothing happened. The passengers all disembarked, walked to another gate, and got on another plane. I got home at 5:37am, took a quick nap and showed up at 8am appointment, then went elsewhere to transact business (feeling impaired after 24+ hours awake).

Going to friend’s homes for dinner or having people over. Meeting friends for lunch. This week we celebrated my birthday with Jean at Dalida in the Presidio. Nancy and Peter had us over for another birthday dinner and we had Andy and Simone over for dinner the next evening. Happy birthday, CK!

Morning – in hot tub looking up

Peter N-R and I were walking home from lunch at the Kensington Inn. It’s an uphill walk – uphill is getting harder and harder – to get there and a downhill walk going home. Peter said, “We’re walking downhill in paradise.” That’s right.