Excerpt of Mr. Bridgewater’s autobiography
|
I was born on the island of Nevis and at an impressionable age shipped to Great Britain. I achieved status in Bedfordshire as a sportsman - a cricketer, and cabaret artist. Most importantly I was confirmed as a member of the Church of England. Eventually I moved to London and set up a management company that managed the affairs of one of Ireland's most popular mezzo sopranos - Marjorie Wright. After Bridgewater Enterprises folded, I went to the USA and instantly became positively dazzled by its might.. I got much closer to Almighty God in the USA.
My relationship with the Far East started earlier than the USA and it contrasts in that it continues to be a relationship of on going curiosity and more recently - challenge.
I recorded a CD in Sarasota, Florida... GOD'S LOVE in Japanese and English in October, 1995; recorded a CD in Nagoya / Japan in 1996 (Kami wa doko ni mo) God is Everywhere; In July - August 2000 recorded Sunrise CD in Roanoke, VA USA at the Southwest Recording Studios, the tracks include: Psalm 22, Psalm 121, and Revelation Chapter 16; From December 2001 - February 2003, I did a series of CD productions recorded at the Node recording studio near the Tokyo Dome and Chuo University; a mere walking distance from my apartment. The title of this CD series is Moments / Jesus Coda.
These are testing times for Christians in particular and more than ever we will have to enslave ourselves to God's word..
In Jesus
Timely Reflections
by Edmund L. Bridgewater
Lower Manhattan, New York {the early 1990's} First excerpt The Second Eucharist The year was ending; only a few weeks left; and he was having dreams - nightly, the details of them he was struggling to remember and record with pen and paper. The previous day it rained incessantly, but undetterred, he went about his business as if it had been a perfect autumn's day. The following day - a Monday, at 3:20 a.m., he was already spiritually and mentally preparing to be in church by 8 a.m. for his second eucharist in a week. After which, he intended to visit the grave of the late Alexander Hamilton: died July 12, 1804, age 47.... the patriot of incorruptible integrity, the soldier of the approved valor, the statesman of consummate wisdom, whose talents and virtues will be admired". The organ was being tuned. It was the first time he was conscious of being on his knees in that year.... asking for God's mercy and apologizing for his negligence.
DEADPAN
There is a glimmer of hope
In your eyes,
separated from a face,
although beautiful,
Has no trace of give and take;
Deadpan
Edmund L Bridgewater
DUTY
Habit
transcends a deeper call;
Overall;
a climate of abeyance - askance;
yields.
Edmund L Bridgewater
LAST MINUTE
Nearly over,
time offering no periods of rest;
Day and night merge;
Everything Last minute.
Edmund L Bridgewater
FORCED RESPITE
An early start, an early finish;
Until my legs protest;
Collapsed,
I drum up support from my heart,
and leave it to my mind,
To lobby for a rest.
Edmund L Bridgewater
|
Ideal Environment Some of the graves in the graveyard contain the remains of famous historical figures. Inside the church he sat in a pew, quietly saying prayers:
(God, I thank you for my life. The test and the trials. The triumphs, and the failures. Please continue to caress my inconsistent life, with Your all embracing love, and perfect protection.) He remained seated: stared ahead at the large stained glass windows, the altar, then glanced sideways, on both sides, and noted the presence of a few other worshipers. None of the others, worshiping, sat close to each other. The sheer size of Trinity Church, on East Broadway, made that evident. He assumed they wanted a one on one with God. For one fleeting moment he desired listening to Bach: soon after he conceded to himself that the silent aura would suffice. Next, he removed his pen and some writing paper from inside both pockets of his trench coat and began to write. Scotland on East Broadway "Medal Day?" Timothy questioned the cop. The police officer's reply was too terse. Timothy encircled City Hall to have a better view of the podium and dignitaries. He listened as well to the sound of bagpipes. "This event takes place annually at this time of year." The informant is a fireman; his manner unlike that of the cop, earlier, appeased Timothy. Later, Timothy learned more. The bagpipes link to this ceremony had no historical roots. Timothy's day had started there, at City Hall; and his earlier
frustration with a new Mission rule diminished as he listened to ... AMAZING GRACE!!!! Mid-Manhattan
42nd Street Two Sunday mornings in a row; on both ocassions it rained. Timothy made the usual brief stops en route. The 53 block walk didn't subdue him until he was comfortably seated inside Port Authority. Months prior, Timothy arrived by coach to disembark there, and venture for the fifth time, in as many years, to make another New York bid. Timothy could remember vividly, how slow a process it was. His eagerness to succeed in New York evaporated in two days. Timothy dug deeper than he had ever done, for patience, will power, and restored belief. He speculated, risk could equal reward and thwart an hovering threat of displacement. Timothy sat. And surveyed the surroundings; changes had been made; security was tighter; wayfarers and temporarily stuck out-of-towners weren't being permitted to remain static for long. A fantasy picture suddenly blocked out everything while Timothy's eyes remained wide opened. He could envisage departure; a destination--Virgina. Timothy could see his eyes filled with tears and an unequal desire to remain in the Big Apple. He could see beyond--a yearning to sit in the same spot--revisiting a temporary displacement phase-momentarily.
|
AN EARLY GOODBYE A photograph of the Cross hangs on the wall with a long sentence written underneath, at the bottom, ' It was not the nails, that held Christ to the Cross but his love for you.' Timothy stood in the corridor patiently waiting fo be transported to Long Island. A sense of peace enveloped him. He could not at that moment relate to the fund -raising dinner he was attending, to what was presently impacting him - visually. Timothy sat at the back of the van - a nineteen seventy Chevy. It was assumed that the car trailing was being driven by the Executive Director; with the cabaret artistes and family in the passenger seats. Timothy remained detached throughout the entire journey fron China Town in Lower Manhattan to Long Island. Non - stop outpourings from Head of Security, in particular, exposed him - aurally. The main topic of conversation was the sights - a spectacular night - display of Brooklyn. Timothy had never been to Brooklyn; some of the residents at the Mission who were part of the group were former Brooklynites.. they vocalised a tourist's- guide view of the area as the Chevy traversed it. EVENING SERVICE The format was different from the previous evening service,Timothy attended. Both services had one thing in common - the closing hymn : ' Just As I Am Without One Plea.' The two lay preachers, responsible for conducting the service, one read from the Bible, said prayers; and the other preached. Appeals were made, the usual, for individual members of the congregation, men earning a meal, and a bed for the night, to exhibit, in testimony,their belief in God, in words, spoken; and in song. Timothy focused, then lapsed into a trance - like state. He found this format of worshipping too demanding; but had always managed to cling steadfastly to a memorable statement : verse, passage - read. He winessed competition he didin't like; between the two aspiring pastors. The one who said less, was the more effective, he thought. When the service ended, the congregation of men, trooped out; some descending downstairs to eat; and others, upstairs to sleep. Timothy felt blessed. THE ULTIMATE BARE Stark naked - The truth was revealed As my censorship tendencies Surfaced, little by little, Nothing was left un-concealed. Edmund L Bridgewater PRECOCIOUS Night calm; a recollection - Sailing on boats, overloaded, With sugar cane; Dad's fixation, in rough seas, Instructing militarily, On the experience of fear. AKI NO IkE Stumbled across your name, And birth date, simultaneously; Leaves, some garbage, Partially blur an impression That stirs, what was originally Intended, since 1910.
|
MY BUNKYO-KU
I moved from Naku-ku in Nagoya to Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo, in the middle of winter six years ago, not knowing what to expect. I knew that it was unwise for me to assume all will be well because I had previously lived in Roppongi in Tokyo and had a great time. But Tokyo, like all great cities changes dramatically and rapidly. However, my first love had been Sendai – a city in Northern Japan where I had spent a year.
I journeyed by overnight bus from Nagoya and arrived early morning after completing the last leg of the journey by metro, and walking uphill, from Korakuen metro station, to my destination – located on Kasuga Dori.
My household possessions trailed, and fortunately, immediately next door to my new apartment is a twenty four hour Jonathan restaurant chain where I eagerly went to have a sumptuous breakfast and wait for the arrival of the lorry transporting my utilities.
Later, on the eleventh floor, at penthouse level, it slowly dawned on me what would be most appealing living in my new apartment: arresting views of sunrise, and early sunset; pigeon – commotions on the patio; the engaging sound of traffic below and most compelling – the domination Ward Office – directly opposite, in the foreground, facing me from my kitchen window.
As my time in Bunkyo-ku grew into years being here, Kasuga Dori, the street parallel to the front of the building has been transformed into a convenient entity for me to access daily: numerous convenient stores – some recently new; the police station opposite and several newly built multi-story apartment blocks; supermarkets: Seifu, Isetan, Seijyo, and Santoku; two Post Office branches (one operating twenty four hours); Chuo University and the sports and theme park mecca – the Tokyo Dome.
For others living here, and those daily passing through, Bunkyo-ku might not be perfect or even ideal, but for me, I feel for the time that I’ve spent here, I have been living in the right place, at the right height, and at the right time.
|
FAMILY MATTERS ............ Part One by Edmund L Bridgewater
He was there, in a house, in suburban New York, talking face to face, and also on the telephone, with relatives, most whom were unfamiliar; some he was seeing for the very first time; most of them women; glamorous, independent, owing their own cars; proudly declaring what they were graduates of - and he listened in awe.
Earlier, as he journeyed from Baltimore to New York on the early express train, he conversed with an elderly gentleman seated next to him. The man was offering the newspaper he had finished perusing - the Philadelphia Enquirer. A former journalist, he needed more time to speculate on his experiences ahead of him in New York; too many unknown factors.
He did the right thing; instead of linking up with relatives immediately after arriving, he intimated strangers. He had made an advance booking for one room, for two nights, at a private house. His hosts did their subletting through an agency that advertised in magazines and newspapers, read by academics. The other guest was a middle aged Russian/French/English speaking lady, who said she was a writer.
One day passed before he made his first contact - a lawyer; he had known that but wasn't sure when they met he would recognize her. He did as he walked into the main office. He walked over to her and pressed his cheeks to hers; while doing so, he looked into her eyes and saw everything - the numerous years that had elapsed were swept aside and instantly replaced by a sense of .... It didn't matter anymore.
He was only a first cousin yet they were treating him like a brother. He intended it to be a short visit, but an offer of crab meat and rice from a nearby Thai takeaway was irresistible.
At the end of the day, he always felt he hadn't achieved enough, but today he was unsure what to think. His relative imposed restrictions and he complied; retiring early, and waking up early next day, and eventually he became aware that he was in New York.
FAMILY MATTERS ............. Part Two
The third day was eventful, too. He bought yoghurt and chatted to a young Puerto Rican woman who served him. Her eyes boldly unguarded him; and for the short period he spent consuming, seated on a stool, he revealed to her much about his private life. The other appointments he had were completed without any difficulty. It rained incessantly. When he returned to where he was staying, he received telephone calls from a concerned relative.
He was leaving next day for South Bronx, to stay with his cousin - a spinster; a contrast environment to where he was - West 87th Street.
The doorbell rang. He grabbed his bags, said a hasty goodbye to his Upper Manhattan hosts and hurriedly walked towards the front door exit.
THE REUNION ........... By Edmund L Bridgewater
He could see who it was as he peeped through the door from the inside. His chauffeur, a cousin, his baldness was a surprise; but his enchanting smile remained unchanged; also his polite way of greeting. He ushered him into his red BMW; it was new. They drove off and he was excited.
He anticipated doing a lot of hand shaking, apologizing and laughing but he couldn't envisage what Bronx was like. At first glance, he was convinced that he had seen it all before. He arrived at midday, on a Sunday. It took him a little time to adjust. Shortly after midnight he experienced relaxation.
His room was makeshift. His cousin's house was too big for one person to inhabit. She had tenants occupying the first floor apartment and the basement, and she seemed to be comfortably anchored at street level on the ground floor.
Later he paid a visit to someone he wished he could speak to - and uncle who had passed away in nineteen seventy six. He had to resign himself to reading his name engraved in a small square space in a mausoleum. His late Uncle Arthur had been good to him. As he walked back to his cousin's car, in which he was a passenger, he offered to buy the small group that he was apart of - yoghurt.
He felt uncle, if he was still living would consider that act one way to negate grief.
His life was expressing itself in a new way; overdue perhaps, but welcome.
|
|
CRICKET, ETC.
They were eager to talk - uninhibitingly. They told me that they had come to Cheltenham Spa to be spectators at a Cricket Festival. They were annual visitors to the area and always booked into the Queens Hotel when they visited the area. I learned that in the past the Queens Hotel was a regular haunt for British Royalty but in recent times this hotel had become accessible to anyone who could pay the reduced prices that were being charged, to quote the elderly couple, " In the old days, at this time of the year - mid-July, this hotel would have full occupancy, but today there is hardly anyone here." Matt and Dorothy were living in Cleveland in Middlesborough, they both had humble beginnings in life and persevered to rise to the top of the brewery trade. They had managed with grit to give their children the best educational opportunities - all that Matt craved in his youth, but never had the opportunity to have. Both held strong views regarding the issue of immigration and immigrants. They were jubilant about England's performance against Zimbabwe and the West Indies in the current Triangular One Day Series.
I did my best with words, calmly spoken, to convince Matt nad Dorothy, "With God leading, and in tow, all will be well."
We had been talking candidly for nearly an hour, and the temperature had dropped gradually to chilly. We were all wearing light material clothing and abruptly we ended our conversation, most of which had been recorded.
Edmund L Bridgewater
|
CHICHI
I sit and watch
The lake's ripples below.
My upward gaze -
You stroll by,
Spit your saliva underneath,
On the flat surface, circular;
If the sun wasn't out,
I'd be inclined to shout!
My father was a sanitary inspector!
| YEATS
I glanced out of the window
Of my loaned studio Flat,
Then I re-focus my vision
On the bit of paper in front of me;
I jot down a few lines;
Simultaneously,
I imagine I am Yeats.
| UNSCATHED
AT dawn, a full moon,
Disappearing behind
Ellis Island;
Unscathed,
The Staten Island ferry
Journeys on.
|
TEEN ROMANCE
The serenity
Of an early morning respite,
Near the river,
Was shattered by roller skating,
Teenage conversation,
And stealth.
| SCARED
Scared of missing,
Experiencing,
A cold winter day;
Scared of past, present,
Slipping away;
Future like winter,
Sometimes,
Has to merge.
| A YACHT
A yacht races,
Alone,
Going up river;
On its way down,
A ferry;
Near by, two men;
Father, son,
Mutual photography.
|
STILL
A long walk to seek,
Find somewhere
Ideal to eat;
Light, summer attire;
Conspicuous; yet,
Hidden underneath,
Is a human frame
Pulsating with mixed feelings;
Between Myogadani
And Ikebukuro,
A grasp of will,
Waits, until mind becomes,
Thoughtlessly still.
| ECOHING
See planes in the sky,
See stars and wonder why?
See tomorrow eclipse today,
See a world drifting away;
See life as it should be;
Steadily, reality sets in;
A recurring theme - echoing!
| INTERIM
Legacies of mist clouds vision,
Beset by stormy horizons;
Out of reach for now;
Interim
|
INDIA
On the 3rd Floor,
Content with
Restaurant offerings,
And a partial view;
Absorbing time;
New arrangements mull,
In a mind, reminiscing India.
|
|
|
HONG KONG 1995
EXPECTATIONS ........ Edmund L Bridgewater
The short journey by ferry from Kowloon to Central Hong Kong didn't excite or arouse either of them, but the effort to locate hte American Chamber of Commerce offices, did. The pre-arranged appointment had been made for 10:30 a.m., with the administration manager; with the initials N.O.
With the friendly waving of his right hand, from afar, they were instantly drawn, to the former government official, who was doing his best for the U.S.A., in Hong Kong.
In conversation they touched on a variety of topics. The atmosphere in the small office was easy to relate to. They sat in chairs facing N.O., who was seated behind his desk. There was mutual admiration for the veteran broadcaster Alistair Cooke.
Later, they made a visit to a post office, en route; ensuring, there was a brief period of respite, taken over cafe-au-lait, at the Mandarin Hotel.
A long walk by the river ensued the ferry ride back; and as they drew close to where they were staying - the Shangri-La Hotel they made two observations worth noting: some of the rooms in the Shangri-La had water view; and a Nanking noodle restaurant was located opposite. The Nanking noodle restaurant offered a low rate of exchange for the U.S. dollars they used for payment. The meal was delicious.
The day was being wound up at 8:00 p.m. and they judged it favorably.
|
|
