from the Saturn List
Dear Friends of Trudy,It is with much sadness that I write to tell you that my mother passed this morning after a short illness. I'm sorry about the impersonal way to inform you, but some of you I only know from emails. As you know, my mother was a force of nature; she embraced life and lived for every moment. She was never shy, always willing to try new things and really the most optimistic and positive person I have ever known. Her net of influence, as you well know, was huge. Almost everywhere I go - in the States and the rest of the world, I run into people who know her.Even in her last days with her mind fading from dementia, she was a bright light. At Arden Courts, she was known as the activity director and and was happy and content.(edit)
May her memory be as a blessing,with much love and sadness,Sarah .
--
Sarah Morse
About Trudy, I just want to say that the Waitawhile compilation and publication of Sun Ra's poetry would never have happened without her.
I met Trudy at a long-gone little bar in Washington, DC in the mid-90s, where somebody was putting on a free jazz show. Trudy saw me reading a book by Jacob Boehme and based on that, asked me if I would drive her up to NYC for a Sun Ra tribute show at the Knitting Factory. I did, bringing along some friends, and ended up doing lights (ineptly, I'm sure) for Trudy's part of the show. Throughout that weekend, she had more energy than all of us 20-somethings put together, leading us from bar to bar through lower Manhattan, discussing art, music, Israeli poiltics and everything else. When I brought her back home, she gave me a copy of The Immeasurable Equation, Vol. II. That gift inspired me to collect together all the Sun Ra poetry I could find. And because of this list-serv that project turned into the Waitawhile publication.
I'm sure I'm only one of many, many people whom Trudy had a powerful influence on. Spirits like hers are rare and beautiful beyond measure.
James
James L. Wolf
Trudy Morse reads Sun Ra's poetry
collected from the international waitawhile sun ra conventions
Trudy MorsePoet, Musician, Humanitarian, Diarist, Grandmother
Poet, world traveler and performance artist, Trudy Morse, creates
other-world performances in the spirit of the legendary Sun Ra. Expect a
cosmic, ritual happening. - Earshot, Seattle WA
Trudy Morse has lived in Chevy Chase, MD for some forty years. Her
late husband, Malcolm S. Morse, a prominent scientist with the National
Bureau of Standards, worked on dynamic thermo-physical measurements in
space, before his death in 1986.
Most of her life she was a political activist working on national and
international policies, at the same time active in her home and
community, while raising six children. Retired from her professional
career as a land consultant she spent from four to six months each year
travelling the world.
Her interest in her husband’s research on anomalous phenomena has
taken her to all five continents. She recalls with particular interest
her travels in Africa, Australia, Europe, India, China and New Zealand.
She has traveled extensively in the USA on frequent camping trips,
cross-country, in National Parks from the East to the West coasts, as
well as in Hawaii and Alaska.
Since the death of Malcolm Morse, Trudy has been travelling with jazz
pianist Cecil Taylor, in Europe, Japan, and the USA. While on the road,
Trudy wrote poetry, which was later published by Hermes Press.
Aside from regular travel on the road with Cecil Taylor, for the past
few years, Trudy has been concentrating on the poetry of the legendary
Sun Ra and his Arkestra. Working closely with John Szwed, Chairman of
Music and Anthropology at Yale, Trudy has been collecting Sun Ra poetry.
She performed with Sun Ra right up until his death, being with him when
he left the planet at Birmingham, Alabama.
Since his death, she has been planning and presenting Tributes to Sun
Ra. She appears regularly on radio programs, reading Sun Ra poetry over
the old Saturn records or new releases by Evidence.
Among many artists, she has most notably collaborated and performed with Kidd Jordan, Eddy Gale, George Russell, Anthony Braxton, Joe Maneri, Pozzi Escot, Pauline Oliveros, Stuart Dempster, George Lewis, Marshall Allen, India Cooke, Michael Monhart, Muhal Richard Abrams, Dave Burrell, Illuminati Big Band, Don Wherry Ensemble, Cosmic Krewe, Tone Scientists and Boris Raskin Trio.
Among many artists, she has most notably collaborated and performed with Kidd Jordan, Eddy Gale, George Russell, Anthony Braxton, Joe Maneri, Pozzi Escot, Pauline Oliveros, Stuart Dempster, George Lewis, Marshall Allen, India Cooke, Michael Monhart, Muhal Richard Abrams, Dave Burrell, Illuminati Big Band, Don Wherry Ensemble, Cosmic Krewe, Tone Scientists and Boris Raskin Trio.
The ubiquitous septuagenarian has 6 children, 20 grandchildren and 6 greats.
-from Deeplistening.org
*
Hermes at the Crossroads
Hermes Press - 1996 Written September 9, 2000.
A NDE, as it is called today, is a rather frightening ex- perience, but since I have been privileged to have had three in my lifetime, actually I feel blessed. The first NDE was almost 50 years ago, while giving birth to my son, Michael, I found myself being twirled through a dark tunnel, with a bright light at the end. I woke up hysterical, I thought the baby had died. I was rather surprised when the phenomenon was analyzed many years later, it was I who was near death, and not the baby. As a result of this startling experience, "Training for Child- birth" was pioneered in the Washington, D.C. area with Sue Patch, sister of Gloria Steinman, President. Trudy Morse, Treasurer. My son, Dr. Melvin Morse, pediatrician, who writes about NDE's in children, was the first baby born, under this new program, over 40 years ago. Our program was to train parents in natural childbirth. Dr. Dick Reid, of the UK, was the leader of the movement in those days. We were the first to bring fathers into the delivery room, exercises for mothers, and coaching lessons for fathers, to give support for the mothers. The second time I had a NDE, I saw the pattern of my whole life before me, and repented, that before the NDE, I hadn't been a really good cook. Saying farewell, I asked Malcolm to forgive me, before passing out during an asthma attack. And from that experience I learned that it's very good to be ready to meet your maker and a quick review of your life is a strong probability! I am still not a very good cook, but don't feel guilty, since Malcolm assured me that was not why he married me. The medics had revived me at home, and I felt at peace that Malcolm had forgiven me during my last moments. From that experience, I learned that life is so fragile, I would try to enjoy every moment of life with an extraordinary husband, Malcolm Morse, who was my partner for some 40 years. At the age of 55, when he was diag- nosed as having cancer, I insisted that he retire so that we may have the last years of his life, roaming the planet, so that he might have a last look at every location he was curious about, had read about in science, literature, the Bible, politics and even science fiction. He remained alive another 13 years. A practicing Yoga, he died a Yoga's death, in peace, in lotus position, and I stayed over 3 hours, singing and chanting, for an easy departure of the soul. I was at peace that I had helped fulfill his mission of life. He examined anomalous phenomena for some six months each year, all over the globe. This last NDE at the senior age of 81 was an extraordinary revelation. An asthma victim almost all of my life, I was unable to pull out of an asthma attack at the home of one of my dearest members of my extended family, GILA. I had overdosed on medication, which brought me deeper in the helpless stage. 911 was called, the ambulance appeared immediately, the medics correctly diagnosed the incident as pulmonary arrest, and were able to revive me within the six minutes before brain damage. It was a quick, efficient action that made for the success of the treatment, every one cool and collected to do what needed to be done. Now, what did I learn in the experience during my twilight years? The most touching was the miracle of the assembly of the family. They arrived at the hospital shortly after the ambulance, and were there with complete support for me. As important as modern life-supporting machinery and professional help is, I needed my dearest and most beloved family. Sarah never left my side and I deeply felt her presence, as well as Mary's, who never left Sarah. Later, Dr. Serena Fox appeared. She works at the Trauma Center at Columbia Hospital for Women, spent time with the doctor on call, Dr. Remy. He had heard of her, by reputation, and with continual telephone calls to my own family doctor, Dr. Douglas Shumaker, they were an extraordinary medical team put together in this extreme emergency. Needless to say the nurses are God's gift of angels to care for us. They told me later, the incident took them by complete shock. The possibility of brain damage loomed very large in their minds. Now what happened to the NDEer: First, there was a black cage I was trying to frantically trying to escape, banging each corner post. In despair, I finally gave up: "Well, if this is Hell, Heaven is probably boring." (This is what my son, Alan, says I reported late Thursday night of the discharge." Although that vision appears to have come first, what I remember vividly, is a white casket with heavily clad manacled boots thumping each corner tightly closed. Perched on the ceiling, was the Raphael angel, with lovely face cupped into hands, watching the event, with much wonder, watching the casket-thumping, admiring its beautiful painting of stars, crescents, and other beautiful colorful patterns, covering the casket, gleaming, glowing white, like a Rauschenberg painting. The thumping of each corner finished, the casket securely closed, the Raphael angel perched on the ceiling watching carefully, wondered: "Well, which would have been better, Heaven or Hell?" And with a wry smile: "Who knows?" I had finally been restrained from fighting the staff who were trying to insert the indo-trachial tube directly into the mouth, to hook up the lungs with the support machine, necessary to get the lungs working again. Michael, who had been helping the staff in their struggle, was severely scratched, which was an agonizing. moment for him. Everybody involved later told me they went into complete shock after this experience . I was so determined to keep off the machines!I had always said I would rather die than be hooked up on a machine, and I really meant it! Now that it is all over, I feel truly blessed again. With such a remarkable family who by some miracle arrived, without anybody knowing where to call them! With such extraordinary extended family giving further support. And the remark of the social worker really moved me. When I asked her why she was visiting me, she told me most of the elderly patients have no one at home to go to, and she provides volun- teers and visiting nurses, meals on wheels. What a wonderful feeling, to have Sarah there every moment, demanding that I be taken home at once, rather than the two week period they suggested and David, her husband, taking over all the chores of the four children left at home during Sarah's 24 hour vigilance. Sarah decided three days in the hospital was enough. She demanded my release at once, and armed with the X-rays, she drove me to her home. Maurie was there with a broad smile. Michael had already left work, and was waiting to pick me up. Erica had decorated the front doorway: "Welcome home". Lauren, who had grown at least 12 inches during the summer, had to lean over to embrace me. And Mary was there with a dinner, eaten outdoors, overlooking her glorious garden and little pool with the waterfall creating the sound of running water which I love. Michael took me shopping for my bagels, picked up my medicine. And Guy and Sheri took over from there. They explained the medication, assuring me it was very mild and only a short course. Dr. Shumaker assured them it would not interfere with the effective plendil I take for high blood pressure. Dr. Shumaker insisted I call him at home to strongly advise against my trip to Syria scheduled for the next day. I felt so much had done for me, I better not let them down and create new problems, so I can- celled the trip. My beautiful extended family member Paula, of Signature Travel, got to work at once to assure that I get money back for airfare. I came away with the realization that although I say I am ready to die, there's a whole crew of people, medical and family, who seemed to think it important that I live a little longer. Like the birth of a baby, the rebirth of an adult requires instant loving, nurturing for the health of the new model. My son, Dr. Melvin Morse, pediatrician, who has pioneered in NDE with children, presents, during his lectures, pictures that children draw about their experience. Some are pictures of Jesus, pets, teachers, or parents, whom they have just seen. They are usually told to return, depending upon their belief system. For me there was no such picture. No persons, no Jesus, no favorite aunt, mother, or spouse, only at first, a crude black cage from which I was frantically pounding, trying to escape. In some disgust, I just gave up, thinking: "Oh well, Heaven would probably be boring anyway!" Then appeared a white casket, with heavy manacled boots pounding each corner tightly shut. Beautiful and gleaming white. Stars, crescents and colored figures were painted on the lid, in Rauschenberg style. Above it all a Raphael angel watched from the ceiling, finally wondering if Heaven or Hell would be better! Who knows? WHAT DO I MAKE OF ALL OF THIS? Our holiest prayer in Judaism is the Shma Yisroel, Adonoi Elehanu, Adonoi Echod. Hear oh Israel, The Lord our God, The Lord is one. The Adonoi is a Hebrew Tetragrammaton, having four Hebrew Letters, usually transliterated YHWH or JHVH, that forms a biblical proper name of God. Reb Shneyer has told us that Adonoi means past, present, and future. I feel a deep sadness that my departed partner, Malcolm was not witness to this. An internationally recognized engineer, he was also a Polymath. Equally as versed in Philosophy, Poetry, Plato, Plotinus, Literature, Eastern and Western Religions. In raising our six children, he constantly reminded me that when the child is born, images of his past, present, and future are embodied on the brain. Since I saw no persons, heard no voices, I personally conclude that it was the high tech machinery, and the total high level family and medical support that brought about the return. Maybe, this return was guided by either the images of the brain already imprinted at birth: maybe, God whom Jung defines as SELF, maybe, just plain GILA. Death is not Real But Birth to a New Life We go on and on To higher planes For eons and aeons Of Time The Universe is Our Home We explore the Farthest Recesses We dwell in the Finite Mind Of The All I die gladly So I may Know The Whole Truth Of Being At One with The ALL
