Heroes, AI, and Sunshine

Last week, I pushed myself away from my desk, and travelled nearly an hour south to attend Vishyvanka Day, organized by the Comox Valley Ukrainian Society as part of an annual event held worldwide to celebrate Ukrainian culture expressed through beautifully embroidered shirts worn by men and women. There, I met a hero, Darrell McKay. A few months prior, I had stumbled upon his book, My Time With Heroes: One Canadian’s Story of Supplying Humanitarian Aid to Ukraine. His memoir is an extraordinary story of an extraordinary time spent by an extraordinary man.

When Darrell learned of Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine, an independent and sovereign country, in February 2022, he felt moved to help. Darrell, born in England, and now living in Canada on Vancouver Island, has no Ukrainian roots. And yet, he was motivated not to fight but to help those who were fighting for their survival, those who feared living once more under Russian thumb. Darryl’s another unsung hero in this crazy war.

At the Vishyvanka Day in Comox, Darrell was sitting at a table selling his books. When he’s not helping the wounded and distraught at the Ukrainian front, he’s back home raising money through his book sales and speaking about what’s he seen at the front.

I approached him and told him I had his book but hadn’t finished reading it yet. I then spoke of the trilogy I had written about my Ukrainian grandmother, Lukia Mazurets, which begins with her life in Russia during WWI and afterwards. I also shared how Russia’s war with Ukraine had affected me from day one. I teared up as I related my experience, and he responded by tearing up as well.

He reminded me of my father. I had grown up with a dad, who teared up at the kitchen table when my mother talked about what it was like living in Ukraine during World War I under Russian rule. So, when Darrell teared up, I saw another sensitive man who understood another person’s pain.

Back home, I finished reading My Time With Heroes which gives details about the people he met: the soldiers on the ground, the aid workers, and the victims of Russia’s assault. He shows the incredible work being done to help Ukrainians physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I’m sure many feel alone when they continue to endure one aerial assault after another that leaves innocent people—soldiers, civilians, and outside volunteers dead or maimed physically and/or psychologically. This war that never should’ve happened is now over four years old.

But Ukrainians are a resilient people. They continue to sing, laugh, and dance, despite the hardships life throws them. Rather than succumb to the brutality of Russian forces, those in Ukraine and in the Ukrainian diaspora all over the world have responded with great celebrations of their culture, traditions, and language.

Like on Vyshyvanka Day, where a few members of the Comox Valley Ukranian Society, dressed in their vyshyvankas, formed a choir and sang some folk songs. Here’s a snippet of one song.

Speaking of heroes, I’d like to mention an unlikely one, as heroes come in all forms. Our good friend Jack Fournier. He didn’t go to any war front, but he fought a different war—that of cancer. Loved by his friends and family, he never complained—though I wouldn’t minded if he did—and joked until the end. He was also a devoted husband, a man who loved the sea and his cat, and a master carver. His wife, Lou Milner, wrote an excellent book about Jack, — Jack & The Cat Go Adrift —a light-hearted and fun read.

Jack loved my Ukrainian family saga trilogy. Though he was dying of cancer, he couldn’t wait to read the next book in the series.

At the celebration of Jack’s life that Robert and I attended, his wife played a song at the end that sums up Jack. And a song I’d like to leave you with: “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” It helps to remember this as we deal with our worries, whether it’s our families, the wars happening overseas, the AI threats, or the climate crisis. Humanity is amazing. There are so many good people worldwide doing great things.

I’ve been of two minds about it. I value being able to find all kinds of information quickly. For example, putting in my MRI results gave me much needed information, not only about the kind of exercises that would benefit my condition, but also who the best spine surgeons are for my back problems. I am seeing a physio now, but it’s helpful to cross-reference what I’m getting with what AI has given me.

I used Chat GPT, but now I’m hearing that Claude, developed by Anthropic,might be a better choice, as the developers, Daniela and Dario Amodei, seem to have a conscience and are putting in guardrails. However, these same developers are being sued in a huge lawsuit for having used countless novels to train their AI without the authors’ permission and/or payment. I know they’ve used two of mine: Lilacs in the Dust Bowl and A Cry from the Deep. I wonder if I and the other authors named in this lawsuit will get any satisfaction.

Much as I appreciate the quick help AI can provide for various queries, I am concerned about the impact it and cloud computing has on our environment. There is talk about finding ways to re-circulate the water and energy it needs for its large data centres. Currently, they are playing havoc in the communities where they are built.

On an opimistic note, Fareed Zakaria, political jouranalist on CNN, gave a wonderful speech to the grads at Bard College about the amazing capacity of the human brain as compared to AI. Worth listening to.

For those who’ve been following me, my reading tastes are all over the map. After reading Darrell McKay’s book, I need something lighter, so:

I started reading All Fours by Miranda July. It’s described on the back cover as “an irreverently sexy, tender, hilarious, and surprising novel about a woman upending her life. It has gazillion reviews and was described at a top ten book of the year.

And the other book on my night table is Birdie by Tracey Lindberg. On the back cover it says, “The CBC Canada Reads shortlisted, nationally bestselling novel about Bernice Meetoos, a Cree woman who will not be broken.” When I attended Words on the Water Writers Festival in Campbell River a few months ago, I heard Lindberg read from her work. What she read was compelling, so I bought her book.

Well, I haven’t returned to my work-in-progress yet—another novel—but I will soon.

I’ve been too busy promoting my latest book, A House Full of Strangers, a collection of short stories set in the 1940s and 1950s in Winnipeg, about Ukrainian immigrant landladies, their families, and the people who rent rooms from them. By the way, it’s also available in Large Print. Here’s the Amazon link for the Large Print, or you can ask your independent bookstore to bring the book in for you.

If you’ve read A House Full of Strangers or plan to read the book, and you like it, please leave a review on the site where you purchased the novel. Even a couple of sentences will do. Leaving reviews helps both readers and authors. Thank you!

Hope your days are filled with sunshine. ‘Till next time.