"Just remember, every once in a while, the untutored maverick whom the
medical establishment assumes doesn't know what he's talking about actually
doesn't know what he's talking about." Dennis Miller

Dean and Yoly Hughson in Paris 2003 

To Brave People I Have Known

To Brave People I Have Known



Bravery doesn't only come on the battlefields with guns and tanks. I

saw it with my own two eyes in Russia, Poland, and Czechoslavakia back

in the late 80's. I saw people stand up to their government who

didn't allow religious freedom to their own citizens. Those who chose

to go to Christian or Jewish congregations had to face having their

pictures taken by the KGB and inside informants but even worse they

faced their children not getting into the better universities; their

files would be marked and the schools knew not to admit the children

of 'religious' people.



If you couldn't take it any longer in the 1980's and early 1990's you

would apply to emigrate to Israel. This entailed quitting your job,

filing papers for emigration, and PAYING the government a fine for

leaving. Then you sat and waited for your 'permit' to come up. If you

had worked in certain government agencies or were known to be a

'dissident' you would be refused exit permits,though they might allow

some of your family to leave which was very painful. Some people

began speaking out as early as the 70's and ended up being put in

prisons. They were treated like spies for demanding freedom.



In 1989 I became active with a group called the National Council For

Soviet Jewry based in Washington DC. This group was a voice for the

'refuseniks (those refused exit visas)' and worked on the political

process to keep the pressure on Russia to let their people be free.

What I found was amazing; there were volunteers risking their own

freedom to smuggle in medicine and money and hope to those trapped in

Russia. I took a Rabbi friend of mine, Rabbi Maynard Bell, and we

flew to Poland where we saw the concentration camps of WWII which was

a sobering event. We went to Czechoslavakia and there also saw a camp

that was used with children; a very sad thing. We also met with a

person who was working on behalf of freedom for Jews there;

mysteriously he was killed in a 1 car accident 2 weeks after we had a

secret meeting with him. We went to Kiev,Ukraine and met with a young

man Mark Kotler and his family. He had stood up against the

government and spent years waiting to get out. He refused to be beaten

down and even helped those around him. We videotaped his story and

promised to help. When we went to the airport to leave Kiev we

checked in for a flight and were told to wait in a room. They wanted

us out of Kiev so bad that they stopped a very large Illushkin jet

(like a 767) and had it land. They took us out to the end of runway

and we walked up through the belly of the plane and all of a sudden

saw 300 curious Russians as we boarded and sat down.



When we got to Moscow we met numerous families who had been fighting

for their freedom for years and were refused exit visas. One man had

been driven literally crazy and when we videotaped his story you could

hardly see him in the video; it was like his soul had been taken by

the Soviet govt. Once we were going to see a famous math professor

and when we got on the train we realized the KGB was following us so

we jumped on and off the train a few times with big men in hats and

coats jumping in unison with us. Somehow we lost them and ended up at

our new friends house. We heard his story; he was blind,unable to earn

a living, but they felt sorry for us as we hadn't been able to get

much food and they fed us. The Soviet people had big hearts. We were

even given a ride back to our hotel in a private person's car and the

police stopped us for a minor traffic infraction. They gave a lecture

in Russian,not knowing that 2 of us in the car were Americans, and if

they had known we would have been arrested. It wasn't allowed for

Soviet citizens to be with Americans privately because obviously we

were spies. We were lucky.



We met Leonid and Natasha Stonov and their son Sasha. Sasha

represented the 3rd generation of Stonov's who had been punished by

the Soviet govt. for speaking up against oppression; Sasha's

grandfather had been in one of the gulags in Stalins' times. Leonid

was being kept in the Soviet Union because he knew that the Soviet

agricultural programs were a farce and he helped many other people

gain their freedom. They were a brave family. They valued freedom and

truth more than their own safety. Without Alphagraphics knowing it,

their joint venture in Moscow ended up being the 'communications' hub

for a while via fax for information we needed to get out of who needed

medicine,etc.; Leonid Stoniv and my American Express credit card

fueled it but their high speed secure line via Finland pulled off what

had taken along time in the past using secret couriers to hand carry

the info out of Russia to the free world.



When we got back to the US I had the opportunity with concentration

camp survivor Si Frumkin of helping rescue several thousand Soviet

Pentecostal Christians who had sold all of their possessions,moved to

Moscow to emigrate, and then were told that the US govt. had no more

entry permits. Through a Rabbi I knew, contact was made with

evangelist Pat Robertson and he told the original President Bush he

intended to release a story on his show that 3000 Soviet Christians

were being held against their will due to the US govt. President Bush

ordered the people airlifted out and those people were resettled in

the US,not knowing that Si, a retired carpet sales company owner, and

myself, an eggman, had been involved.



But all of these opportunities to meet people taught me a lesson. It

taught me that freedom is a precious thing and that there are people

in the world who don't have it. Today we see murders and oppression

going on in the Middle East and in Africa and few speak out about it

or do anything. It is a shame that we don't have soldiers in Africa

helping rescue starving children and families being murdered everyday.

It is also a shame that more countries aren't emulating Israel and

helping rescue people out of starving countries like they did in

Ethiopia where they had to pay bribes to get people out.



I write this paper with the intention of bringing up that as a world,

we owe it to help others gain their freedom. I don't know how we do it

all of the time but in the past it has been done often by volunteers.

You don't know their names but little old ladies in coats carried

hidden medicine and food to Russian families acting like tourists. A

brave 16 year old girl named Allyson Gannon did many missions like

that herself and helped save families at great personal risk; her

parents were amazing in their support of this project. Even today

there are still people fighting for people's freedoms. Brave folks

like former refusenik Leonid Stonov continue to go to the former

Soviet Union and help. People like Si Frumkin continue to speak out in

several languages about the issues. I salute these brave person;

they taught me that standing up can make a difference. The fight

isn't over. There are still people lacking freedom.



Dean Hughson, tel 480-836-2314 deanhughson@gmail.com

If I was Donald Trump's new friend

If I was Donald Trump's New Friend.....

First thing I would do is tell Donald to knock off the television
interviews about his upcoming marriage to his 3rd wife. Somehow
something as important as a marriage probably should be between him
and her; America is not going to help you much in what you are about
to begin; they'd love to see you fall like you did with Ivana.

Second, Donald, are you sure this is the right woman? If you really
want to increase your ratings on television, why not marry a feminist
law school professor who specializes in breaking through prenuptial
agreements? Now you are leveling the playing field with the new woman
in your life and alot of people would tune in to see this. Heck, it
would be bigger than the show "The Apprentice".

Third, Donald, in the spirit of improving yourself why not give up the
hairpiece? A guy like you burning the hairpiece would do a lot to help
other balding guys accept that it is ok to be as you are. When you
are 60 years old or older, items like hair are not so important. We
are more interested in what you think and feel than what you are
wearing,including hairpieces.

Other than that, I enjoy everything you are doing Donald. Naming
everything after yourself is different than most of us would do but it
is your right. You seem to enjoy the business game and that is
inspiring. I would like to see more shots of your jet and how you
play? Take us along on trips to Florida and Europe.

Your new friend, Dean

Living and Dying and in between

Living and Dying and In Between

I grew up in graveyards. Don't think that I am weird. It is the
normal thing in rural North Missouri where I am from. No trip with my
grandmother was complete without a walk through the family graveyards
to talk about old friends and family.

In many ways I feel like I know my old great aunts who were deaf but
had funny senses of humor. My great great grandfather's adventures
came alive a hundred times through the memory of my grandmother Sara.
Sometimes we would stop and sit on a stone for a while and talk about
how it was in the early 1900's in rural Missouri. When someone died,
they would take the door off of the front of the house, 'lay' the body
out on it, and all the neighbors and friends would come and visit to
remember the departed. Then there would be a service at the family
church and then they would join the rest of the family in the
graveyard. It seemed like a cycle; you walked around the graveyard
and then someday it is your turn to join the family.

I always think of a Lyle Lovett song "Family Reserve"

http://www.timhinkle.com/LyleLovett/familyreserve.html

part of it goes

"And there are more I remember
And more I could mention
Than words I could write in a song
But I feel them watching
And I see them laughing
And I hear them singing along

We're all gonna be here forever
So Mama don't you make such a stir
Just put down that camera
And come on and join up
The last of the family reserve"

Sometimes I wonder if my old Grandparents and aunts and uncles and
cousins thought about those who will follow them to the McBee Chapel
graveyard and the Black Oak graveyard. Did they picture us in the
same way I do them; part of the family. Every story I've been told
bonded me closer to them.

I've been having a discussion with myself and it goes like this. When
I die I want to have myself cremated and my ashes sent to the Shetland
Islands, which is a beautiful place and I'd be proud to have myself
scattered there but then I get to thinking maybe my place is with the
rest of the family, even though I don't believe they are really
'there'. But the 'there' that there is, is the young people like I was
once, walking through there and saying "Who was that person?". I
suppose it doesn't matter much but maybe what matters is the
continuity of it all. No matter what I've done in life or do in the
future I am one of the family reserve. It is comforting; no question
where I will end up in the scheme of things because we all do. But do
I end up there literally or not? The jury is still out.
But I know this; it is my responsibility to walk some younger people
of my family around out there and tell them stories about family
members who snored loudly and cooked great meals. It is my job to tell
them how much our departed family members loved our family. Because
with a little luck, some of those young people will be just like me;
feeling the need to keep telling the stories.

Dean Hughson is a proud member of the
Hughson/Kelly/Toomay/McBee/Dillman/Moad/Collins families that are
buried in the small graveyards around Braymer Missouri. With a little
luck he won't be at the family graveyard except socially for the long
future. He can be reached at deanhughson@gmail.com

Paris,October 2003

Ok, let's be honest. I haven't ever been one who liked to walk too much. But there is something about Paris in the fall that inspires you. Maybe it is the cold wind,the desire to get to the pate and wine and cheese restaurant? Or is it just necessity. But it is a great place to go and I always enjoy it,even when on a business trip.

Since I live in Arizona I rarely wear a coat so it is fun to wear my leather pilots jacket and sit and watch the hustlers trying to sell tourists things.



Dean Hughson

Father's Day in the Chouteau Housing Projects

Of the hundreds of webpages I've done,this is my favorite (Fathers Day in Chouteau Housing projects above link) It just flowed.

When I go to KC and drive by the old Projects I am again a 7 year old,running around the neighborhood. It was a fairly neat place to grow up...folks there looked out for all the kids. We lost a few to drugs but most of the kids I know from there are still doing ok 45 years later.

Dean

Paris Voice November 2002 Wine bars winners

Well, think I had better start researching where to drink Wine in Paris........and from what I read you can get good food there also. So I must drink a bit of wine each night until I am 'hardened' since I rarely drink.

Dean, Paris dreaming