13 Jim Stermer's Beliefs

                                                        Of Men and Beliefs
                                                    as told to Judy Stermer
                                                      by Jim Stermer, 1955

     It has been said that life is like cultivating a garden of roses. In the spring the tiny shoots appear, sprout and grow. Soon buds form. At the time of maturity a blossom unfolds. Then a loving hand desirous of the flower's radiant beauty plucks the blossom and is simultaneously pierced by the stem's multitude of thorns.
      So life has been, is, and will be . . . .
      In this paper I intend to point out the significant thoughts which represent Cabeza de Vaca's change in attitude from the time he first entered into battle as a youth until the time he re-encountered men of his own civilization.  As a returning wanderer he possessed a personal philosophy of life. Then I will trace a somewhat parallel philosophy of life that a man of our own times, Jim Stermer, composed as he walked many thousands of miles in 1926.
      Both men daily faced dangers that could have warped their minds or consumed their bodies. Both experienced pain and agony. At the end of their lonely wanderings they found a philosophy of life that was both universal and timeless.
       Sixteen years before Cabeza de Vaca landed on the coast of Florida, he had taken part in the battle of Ravenna in Spain. At that time he had sensed the ease with which a man could be destroyed in body and spirit. But having pierced the steaming jungle with its ooze-filled swamps and death-abiding fevers and having been tumbled in a delirium-producing and life-dissolving sea, he learned what life could be when man had nobody and nothing to rely upon outside of himself.  Though he was stripped of his clothes and the fantasies of his outer nakedness that had been induced by his European customs, he felt that he was not deprived of too much. He was still alive.
       Later he tramped west until he has captured by Native Americans and forced to cure their sick. From an inward strength gained somehow through an agony of hunger, wrought by their petitions he was as were his companions, able to heal the ailing tribe. He had no previous knowledge of his capabilities that he could cure. It was an utterly new sensation: he was more than he thought he was.
      After a time, he thought back to his youth, to the scenes of his boyhood, where he had witnessed the burning of heretics. They had had notions of life. Their concepts differed from those dictated by the assistance of book or priest. He felt that he was now thinking of the Invisible. He could see things speak of life itself. As he and his companions prayed, walked, and healed, he saw life.
      One night he was asked to work a miracle on a “dead” man. He felt an inward surge and for some reason was confident that the man would rise up again. The man did.
      What struck Cabeza was that these Native Americans gave their very best in gratification of his power and were yet the happiest people on earth.  Because the people believed and sought his help, he was forced outside of himself into a world where nothing seemed impossible if done for another.
      The Europe and everything that he had known became lost from his vision. The only thing that appeared real was him self. It was dawning upon him that he had the power to grant life and good health to others.  He was concerned with it. He was concerned not as to whether it was widespread or how deep, but whether he knew how to use it or master it. He thought still more: was it a self-directing power that came through him?
      While he worked, he thought. From innumerable scenes of Native Americans constantly seeking cures, blessings, and permissions for various things, he found himself treating all human beings alike.
Following countless months of deprivation he found signs of his countrymen. Finally after months and years of praying for an indication of his people, he found it in the form of a silver buckle belonging to a sword belt.
       With an accompanying group of natives, he walked through the stripped land. It had been ravaged by his countrymen who had seized the men, women and children. The horse-riding Spaniards were startled by the group of men who appeared on foot. The riders with their first words began to recite of their own troubles. They desired to enslave the native population.  Their interpreter explained that Cabeza was Christian but he had gone astray. They, the men on horseback, were real Christians who were lords of the land and to be obeyed and served.
      But the Indians considered this a lie for Cabeza de Vaca could not possibly be a Christian: he came on foot, cured the sick, was naked and barefoot, asked for nothing, and gave away all he had. No! He could not have been a Christian.  To the natives, this man on horseback was a Christian. To Cabeza, he was the image of what he himself had been only eight years before. Here was the former, unthinking self enveloped in the wrapping of society.
      Eventually he was guided to lodging and re-accepted by his people. As time passed he luxuriated.  At first he did not see how his ancient civilization affected him. Yet he observed his own reluctance to do good to others. He felt there was no need for him to exert his already taxed energies when he had strong, healthy men about him who knew their Christian duties.  Finally he realized that only if a man was not thinking, would he stretch out a helping hand in assistance.  It was much easier to think someone else would help than do it himself. But this was a delusion.  For the power of maintaining life in others lived only within the man.  If it remained unused, it slipped away unknown.
      To Cabeza de Vaca, life meant helping others. The power to help sprang from an unlabeled source that he personally had learned of through his wandering and wondering that occurred after he was forced into isolation. But later another man came about a parallel philosophy of life a different way.
      In December of 1926, Jim Stermer was an energetic student. He planned to continue teaching night courses in swimming so that he might make his way through college, for he wanted to be a doctor. But one night while he was submerged in a demonstration of a surface dive, he fainted. He blocked out his ambition of life.
      He was informed just after Christmas that he had a cloud on his lung and that he must give up everything he desired. This meant his school and work were ended. He could do nothing but regain his health. The realization came that unless he got well he would have no future. He could get well only if he left home and went West.
     In January he started planning what to take. He made a meager list. His equipment included a pair of hand-made leather boots, a Mackinaw jacket which was lined with six pockets, one pair of wide cord pants, two wool blankets, and a leather-pack harness.  Then he took the $1,500 he had saved in anticipation of using it for education and started to hitch-hike west.  
      First, his wandering took him to Ohio. From there he meandered into Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri. Finally he came to the oil town of Seminole, Oklahoma where he worked until the weather got warm. Then he boarded a bus to Santa Rosa, New Mexico. Once there, he decided that he had spent all the money he could afford. He got off the bus and stated walking.
      He loaded up a supply of raisins, canned tomatoes, and canned beans. He shouldered the pack weighing sixty pounds. This was the way he left the city of Santa Rosa. He was now on foot and stating an undreamed of adventure and education.
      This first walk took him into Las Vegas, New Mexico. He made it in three days. His daily walk averaged twenty miles. As he trudged alone, he would eat from the pack. When he was out of food he would hope that a town was near by and keep walking.  Whenever he found a town, he would rest up and replenish his supplies. Then he would start out again on the dusty ruts called roads leading to the next town.
      Between Las Vegas and Santa Fe, there was a mountain pass of Glorietta that had been of historic significance as a Civil War battle site. For Jim, it was a site for a battle of man. It was where he lost himself and found himself as an animal against the forces of nature.
      As he walked through the pass, a storm was piling up over head. It started to rain, thunder and lightening. Two bolts of electricity hurtled deafeningly to earth. Jim was startled with a fear that made him shake like a frightened animal. He broke into a cry like a whimper of a hurt animal.
      As the time passed he made his way to the store-size town of Glorietta where he rested. When night spread from the sunset's dark lowlands, he scooped a pocket of earth aside and laid his blanket down. He would sleep with the stars above and the warm earth beneath him. He was alone with the night. And he was alone with the day.
      As a solitary figure he walked into Santa Fe. When he came to the center of town he found a drugstore at the edge of the plaza. He walked into the store to buy a cool drink. While he was there he overhead a conversation between the druggist and the County Health Officer.
      They were upset about a chiropractor who was doing malpractices. As Jim sat, he decided what the town needed was a masseur who would be willing to work under the supervision of the District Superintendent. Jim knew that his health held up for the walk. He felt he could hold a job provided he took it easy.
      On his second day in Santa Fe he bought a pair of trousers and made a visit to the office of Doctor R. E. Brown, head surgeon of St. Vincent's Hospital. They talked about the need for a masseur. Jim convinced the doctor that he could do the job. By the third night that he was back in civilization, he had a job and a roof over his head. He was in business.
      His first patient was a charity case with a syphilitic paralysis. After six weeks of massage and rest this woman walked out of the hospital with one crutch. The first time he had seen her she was bed-ridden. After this interim he was asked to give massages to different people, but he would take them only if they presented a medical prescription.
      Since the majority of these patients were from San Mount Tuberculosis Sanitarium, he was invited to live on the grounds. While there he learned to operate the X-ray machine. This came about under the direction of a young doctor who himself was recovering from tuberculosis.
      Jim's list of patients included a Mrs. Wells, who had arthritis of the hip. In treating her he could see no progress so he reported this to her physician. He knew she was paying an enormous amount of money for treatment and lodging while in reality she was getting only sunbaths and massages everyday. 
     One day in August, after he had been treating her for two months, her husband came to Jim. Jim told the husband that he could see no progress. He also got into a heated discussion with the supervising doctor whose attitude was that if the woman thought something was being done for her that was all that mattered.
      Jim took the attitude that if she was not improving and no one knew what to do in Santa Fe, she should go elsewhere to get treatment. He suggested this to Mr. Wells. At the same time Jim told the doctor he planned to leave Santa Fe.  After this sojourn in the placid city of Santa Fe, he gathered up his equipment, sent home the items that he had acquired in the months regaining his health.
      Once again he loaded his pack. He decided to keep going West. The important thing was that when he left home his ideas of becoming a doctor had been destroyed by his ill health but when he entered Santa Fe he had been given a chance to recapture the ideal of working in the medical field.  After working under the direction of these doctors he saw how they really worked. He had seen operations and assisted in mollifying pain. He was ignorant of medical procedures and felt he was incapable of helping others. He made up his mind to leave.
       Once again his goal to be a physician was destroyed.  He now had a psychological problem. He had to discover a philosophy.  He had to question what was his purpose in life. He could do nothing except live from day to day and in doing so it did not matter what happened in that day. He knew but one thing: he did not want to return to Detroit.  He knew not what he would do when he got home. He felt no purpose, but this was a purpose.  He had a negative purpose. Therefore his aim was to make life something with a positive purpose.
       It was now the last of August. The weather was blistering hot. All that Jim remembered was the thirst and hunger he felt during the trip from Santa Fe to Albuquerque.  The places he saw and the towns where he bought canned good were no different than the others he had passed through. He would just move from one place to the next in search of a store handling beans, raisins and tomatoes.
       He learned that whatever he met in his contention with the flesh-burning heat and the throat-searing thirst could be overcome if he could just keep moving; If he had water he could find a place to rest. As a result, he was able to stand the conditions.
      The road he traveled ran through a number of pueblos. When he came to these towns he stopped and slept in the plaza. At the Santa Domingo Pueblo, he was accepted by the men, allowed to dance and feast at the celebration. He heard and felt the heart-beat throb of the native dances that was an integral part of the southwest. Here was human life at its most primitive level.
      At that time Albuquerque was a small town with a railroad track running through it.  The houses were either adobe or imitations of eastern clapboard boxes. The Old Town that the tourist of today visits was nothing but a settlement of decrepit abode buildings. The four lane highway that now divides the city was but a wagon trail running from somewhere on the eastern desert to someplace on the western mesa.  Jim took Highway 66 west to Cerro. This town is located 32 miles south of the present day ribbon of asphalt that runs from St. Louis to the coast.
      He started out early one morning on the trip where he figured would take but a day and a half. For some reason or another it took him three days to reach Cerro. It was the most appalling experience he had. He had counted on it taking only a short while so he carried few supplies. He had misjudged his capabilities.
       There was no romance of the trip itself. He just went his way taking one step and then another until gradually the feat was accomplished. There was no elevation, depression, or happiness. He just lived and moved. It was the nothing of emotion and the persistence to keep following a goal that was not clear, coupled with the acceptance of the mundane dangers of life and the willingness to do it alone, that made the trip possible.  It was hard to explain what actually went on as he walked along day after day.
       There was romance of the countryside that was very hard to explain. As he walked he cared neither if he lived or died. The bareness of the country did not depress him because he did not care about it. He simply moved through it.
      He sensed a horror of the bareness while perceiving a beauty of knowing everything was in its place. He both felt and saw that nature had been at work for millions of years. If he submitted to the feeling, he could capture a calmness in it, a dignity with it and a peace from it.
      This horror was not a thing he wanted to get away from, but rather something to move through if it were to be known. He just accepted life for what it was and by doing so accepted himself for what he was.  The allure that he garnered from the walk was the nothingness, the momentary existence, the animal level of living from one moment to the next, without the thought of the past or future.
       (Some men have labeled this Cosmic Integration while others speak of it as the unspeakable reality for it attempts to define the feeling a person experiences of life but is unable to verbalize or put into a sense-able explanation.)
      He attempted to analyze the feeling of life. He realized that a woman could feel life by having a baby. She conceived, waited, and bore a child.  Immediately after the birth, the labor pains were forgotten. Only the novel, extra-ordinary experiences impressed themselves on the memory.  But a man, being biologically different, had to create his brain children. He had to psychologically set his goals. It was only within the power of his ego-image that he had a purpose or could create.
      So as Jim walked along he formed a goal in life and a philosophy. As he traveled and lay at night he would question himself what was the most important thing in life? His answer came. Water.
      The difference between the bareness of the desert and the fertileness of the oasis was the existence of water. Where there was water, there was life. To have water meant it was possible to have people. The importance of man's life then was not the solitary greed in the joy of life or the feeling of cosmic integration but the thrill of sharing his feelings with other people. 
      Now that he felt he knew why people lived, he had to understand the meaning of civilization.  He thought of his feelings, memories, and as many things that his mind recorded. He began to judge what was important by autistic thinking.  Some thoughts rose to an abstract level where he synthesized a system of beliefs.
      He decided what was good and what was bad. He had to make a choice. It came: to educate a person was to make him function as an individual and therefore think for himself. Having set up a criteria of judgments man merely organized the forthcoming thoughts into the patterns he had agreed upon as good or bad.  This organization of thoughts confirmed the criteria or else a conflict resulted and the individual would have to reorganize these thoughts.
      After many more miles of walking Jim arrived at the Petrified Forest. He spent two days picking up pieces of stone-transfixed wood and imagining how they were formed. He thought of the thousands of years it took for the trees to grow, to be covered by sand, to change into stone, and then to be eroded from the bed-rock.
       He thought of the timelessness of the universe and of life. To man, time was important for he was here but for a minute integer of time. He developed in time, and then he died in time. But in the sense of time, people were unimportant in relation to the development of the universe. The reality of life was that all things were relative in both time and space. Here was a weak point in the doctrine of Christianity.
       Christianity stressed the importance of the individual and tended to ignore the relativity of the person to the universe – other than stating there existed a life hereafter.
      This was the autistic emotion of man. This feeling of eternity that a man experiences at any given moment when he would stand and look about to sense the tremendous size of the world, the eternity of the universe, and the rhythm of life. These feelings could only be stated in such words as immortality or soul which were nondescript concepts.
      The knowledge of relativity was a constant reminder of how insignificant man was, while the feeling of integration gave him a security and importance. Because man existed, he was capable of doing tremendous things. While from the joy of existence, he was able to be humble.
      The persistence that urged Jim to follow the open road still goaded him on. He had yet to answer “Where do I fit into life?”
      His attitude was crystallized by his walk through the Grand Canyon. He learned that he had to be alone to realize how great he was and at the same instant how small and molecular he was in the relation to all life.  He found he could overcome heat, thirst, and fear of his own weakness; yet, he was useless without others around.
      Therefore the purpose of life was begetting. But life involved suffering. If suffering was a form of pain and the absence of pain was happiness or pleasure, then the absence or as little pain as possible was happiness. But where there was no suffering, there was no life.
      Therefore the pursuit of life was not life itself, but rather to make life as painless as possible and still not destroy the purpose of his life. To make life meaningful, man had to be able to share it with others,