This post is one of the most difficult of the 23,054 pieces that I have published so far on my blog in its ten years of existence.
But I need to write it. The most painful post was related, it was my writing two years ago about the suicide of my friend Paul Moshimer, the co-director of Blue Star Equiculture, the horse draft retirement and rescue center in Massachusetts.
Blue Star was – is – for me, the best hope for the future of domesticated animals in our world, and the most noble experiment and hope for a better way to help animals than we now have: Blue Star is all about working together to treat both animals and people with dignity and compassion. It is a very important place to me.
This morning, I received an e-mail from Pamela Rickenbach, the director of Blue Star and a friend, asking me for help. The farm is hosting a tag sale today in a desperate effort to raise money following an eviction notice effective this week from the owners of the farm property in Palmer, Mass.
Pamela says she is committed to leaving their home in Palmer, Mass., and the beautiful farm that she and Paul loved so much and worked so hard to improve.
She has said that she no longer feels safe there, that the farm’s relationship with the landlord has deteriorated due to “personal and financial difficulties.” She is looking for a new home for Blue Star somewhere in central Massachusetts, but has not yet found a suitable property and does not yet have the funds to buy a new farm for the 28 draft horses now in Blue Star’s care.
As many of you know, I have written about Blue Star many times, visited them often (so has Maria), raised money from blog readers on their behalf. I have been aware of Blue Star’s increasingly difficult struggles this past year.
I pulled back from Blue Star, and have felt for a while that I couldn’t be of use or help there, and after the November election, was drawn to other work.
I have not written about Blue Star’s troubles, and I don’t wish to add to them, but I do need to be honest about my feelings right now.
Paul Moshimer, Pamela’s late husband, was a close and valued friend of mine.
His suicide two years ago was a nearly unbearable tragedy for Pamela especially, but also for me and for many others. Paul and I talked often about Blue Star. Since his death, I have thought many times about what Paul would wish me to do as the farm struggles to survive in the face of great costs and difficult times.
At the end of his life, Paul felt his troubles and difficulties were simply overwhelming, I regret I could not and did not do more to help him.
When I ask my readers for money, I give it great thought and research, until I am absolutely clear that the money is needed, is necessary and will help. I have to feel very strong about it in order to do it and write about it, readers know.
I am proud of the trust I have established with my readers. From Blue Star to the farmer Joshua Rockwood to the refugees and Mansion residents, every dollar sent through me or at my initiation has been used well and to great purpose.
I have not spoken to Pamela more than two or three times since Paul’s death, and over time, I felt instinctively that I needed to move away from the turmoil there. It was an instinct as much as anything else, I offered to help a number of times, but didn’t really connect with the ideas there.
Many of you know that I am deeply uncomfortable about giving advice to other people. Fools don’t take it, and smart people don’t need it.
Almost everyone I knew or spoke with or worked with at Blue Star is gone. So many people have worked so hard to make that very special place work. Running a farm like that is an incredibly difficult and expensive thing to do.
I am not familiar with the farm’s financial circumstances, nor do I know anything at all about the conflict Pamela has and with her landlord beyond what I have read in the news. I know of the landlord by reputation only, and everything I ever heard about him was good – he is described by everyone who knows him to be honest and compassionate and committed to the Blue Star idea.
He says Pamela owes him more than $20,000 in hay and other costs plus rent. Pamela tells a different story.
In all fairness, and with all honesty, I wanted to let you know of Blue Star’s plight today, I think they are on their last legs. The end of Blue Star would be an awful loss, to animals and people and to a better way of dealing with the rights of animals than we now have.
I can’t urge you to support Blue Star or not, I don’t know enough about their inner workings, that is a decision each of you can make for yourselves. Perhaps some of you have better ideas than I have.
Why can’t i go further myself?
This is the hard part, I guess. It is quite personal.
My wish for Pamela, which I wrote to her this morning, is that she let go of Blue Star, a long and hard struggle that has torn her nearly to pieces, and contributed greatly, I believe, to Paul’s decision to end his life. Blue Star is a wonderful place, many people and horses have been saved there, so many lives given comfort and hope.
I have always seen it as a powerful antidote to the increasingly hateful and dishonest actions of the animal rights movement, and of course, Paul and Pamela were relentlessly hounded by people who claim to love animals but who believe it is cruel for working horses to work.
It was my commitment to the cause of the New York Carriage Horses that led me to Blue Star in the first place, and led Maria to spend time at the farm helping out. We both came to love those big and beautiful horses, and admire the very loving care Blue Star gave them. We both ultimately despaired of our ability to truly help. I remember going with Paul to take a blind trail horse down to Blue Star, he has thrived there and been care for well.
I don’t wish to enable Pamela or anyone else to continue this increasingly painful and difficult mission. The idea of buying a new farm, moving 28 horses there, confronting even more seemingly impossible obstacles is troubllng to me, and I can’t see the way forward. Perhaps I am just too blind.
I think enough people have already suffered. Sometimes we have to fight, sometimes we have to let go. It is not up to me to tell you or her to let go, I am just telling you how I feel. It is time for me to let go.
Pamela is used to trying the impossible, I wish her well. No one would be happier than me if she pulled it off.
I can’t say it more clearly than I did in my letter to Pamela this morning. I told her I was deeply committed to my work with the Army of Good working with the elderly in assisted care and with the refugees and immigrants in so much distress in America. They are depending on me, and I am committed to them.
I believe this is what Paul would have wished me to say and do. His wish was for Pamela to be happy and at peace. I know he felt he failed in helping her to do that.
I’ve seen first hand the toll this has taken on Pamela, her exhausting efforts to raise the enormous amounts of money necessary for the farm to continue, the difficulty of running the farm without Paul and his support, the endless and exhausting physical labor involved, and the staggering emotional and personal toll the struggle for Blue Star has taken on so many.
So today, Blue Star is having a very sad tag sale. They are calling it a Labor Day Sale, and are selling off farm equipment and tack, including harness equipment, as well as personal household items and small furniture pieces. The proceeds will go towards the purchase of land for a new farm.
Pamela is nothing if not brave and determined.She is passionately committed to the horses.
Blue Star does not yet have a firm departure date, a place to go, or the funds to go there. I am not seeking to discourage anyone from helping them, that is a personal choice. I am also not asking people to help.
I felt I owed it to you – some of the first good deeds of the Army of Good were in support of Blue Star, and you did good for those horses – to talk about this and not just leave it hanging without a word.
What Blue Star does is up to them, not me, so I am keeping my word to Pamela and letting you know what I know. I don’t care to hide things. You can read more about it here.
As of now, I don’t plan on writing about it further. You can follow it for yourself if you wish on the farm’s Facebook Page or on www.bluestarequiculture.org.