A Beacon of Light

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  • My name is Kevin Carroll. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California, where I attended Saint Ignatius College Preparatory. I am a graduate of both Santa Clara University and the University of San Francisco. Following a 40-year career in teaching and pastoral ministry, I launched a new career as a writer and speaker.

    I live in San José, California. My wife, Kathy, and I have three adult sons and five precious grandchildren. I have much for which to be grateful.

    I can be reached via email at kmc43sjc@gmail.com

    My books are available for purchase online from Amazon. I also have copies of some of these titles at my home for those who would like to buy them directly from me.

    A Moment’s Pause for Gratitude  (2017)

    Cherries in the Summer  (2021)

    The Ambassador of 38th Avenue  (2022)

    Dad: 12 Questions…  (2023)

    A Focus on Gratitude  (2024)

    Through the Lens of Gratitude  (2024)

    A Bahamian Odyssey (2026)

  • Punctuality Matters

    “Better three hours
    too soon than
    a minute too late.”
    William Shakespeare

    I hate being late. For anything! I’m not exactly sure where or when I got the punctuality bug, but I definitely got it. It’s woven into the fabric of who I am, and it’s been there for as long as I can remember.

    The quote by William Shakespeare (above) may seem a bit extreme, but it resonates with me. I would much rather arrive early and have to wait for the other person to arrive or for an event to begin, than to be late and keep the other person waiting. For this reason, I always like to keep a book with me. When I’m early, instead of feeling that I’m wasting my time waiting for others, I can enjoy some uninterrupted reading time. What a gift!

    Living in the San Francisco Bay Area, one must be prepared for the unexpected on the roadways, including delays, road closures, and detours. These might be the result of planned road work by city or county employees, or they may be caused by accidents or other unplanned incidents. By planning to arrive early to my destination, I am able to cope with the unexpected and still arrive with time to spare.

    In the summer of 1969, one of my summer jobs was answering phones at the residence for Jesuits teaching at Saint Ignatius College Prep. One of my shifts was on Saturday mornings from 8:00 to noon. At noon, I was to be replaced by a young woman who would work the noon to 6:00 P.M. shift. Inevitably, this person would arrive late for work. At the conclusion of my shift, I was anxious to get out and enjoy the rest of my day, so her consistent lateness was frustrating for me. When I mentioned to her that I would appreciate it if she would arrive on time to begin her shift, her response surprised me. She said, “It’s fashionable to be late.” What?

    I wanted to respond to her that it’s unprofessional and rude to be late, but I didn’t have the self-confidence at that point in my life to say this to an adult.

    Through the years, I’ve learned not to make an issue out of others being late. As I said, I really don’t mind waiting. I can always find ways to use that time productively. Some people, however, use humor to cope with the tardiness of others. American writer and humorist Franklin P. Jones once said, “The trouble with being punctual is that nobody’s there to appreciate it.” 

    Canadian author Orlando Aloysius Battista seems to deal with the situation much like I do. He wrote, “One good thing about punctuality is that it’s a sure way to help you enjoy a few minutes of privacy.”

    Being punctual is an excellent social skill. It lets the other person know that they matter. It shows them that we value their time as much as our own. And when meeting someone for the first time, especially when arriving for a job interview, punctuality is the most effective way to establish a positive first impression. We only have one opportunity to make that first impression.

    So yes, punctuality does matter.  

  • 25 Years of Memories

    “There are no foreign lands.
    It is the traveler
    only who is foreign.”
    Robert Louis Stevenson

    Twenty-five years ago today, I found myself a stranger in a strange land. With a small group of my students, I visited Nagasaki, Japan — the first of fourteen visits to Japan between 1998 and 2014. We were there for a ten-day “homestay” adventure with students from Junshin Girls’ Junior & Senior High School. To say that the experience was life-changing for me would be an understatement.

    I admit that, at first, I wasn’t overly-excited about the opportunity to visit Japan. I didn’t speak the language, I was unfamiliar with Japanese food and customs, and the thought of flying over that much water to get there just didn’t sit well with me. Still, encouraged by Kathy to go and enjoy the adventure, I got my passport, packed my bag, and boarded a flight to The Land of the Rising Sun.

    We arrived in Nagasaki on Sunday night, November 15, 1998. We were greeted by our host families and immediately swept-off to our respective host family’s home. My host for the homestay visit was a 16-year-old Junshin student by the name of Saori Komoda. Her family lived in a cozy hillside home in the small community of Sotome, a coastal town overlooking the East China Sea. I quickly learned that Saori’s parents did not speak English. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized that Saori was quite fluent in English, though she didn’t have the confidence at that time to speak it with conviction.

    For the duration of my visit, Saori was my lifeline. We took the local bus together from Sotome to her school each morning, then home again in the early evening. Saori taught me how to pay my fare at the end of each bus ride. In fact, she provided exact change for my fare. I appreciated her kindness. 

    Once on campus, my students and I were treated like celebrities. My students shadowed their host students throughout each day. I’d been told by one of my colleagues, who had escorted a group to Nagasaki the year before, that once I’d checked-in with my students each morning, the rest of the day would be mine to do as I pleased. I chose to spend the first day on campus, just getting familiar with the lay of the land. One of the English teachers asked if I would be willing to visit her English class to offer her students the opportunity to converse with someone who speaks English as their first language. Of course, I accepted. I had a wonderful visit to the class, and word got out to the other English teachers that I was willing to visit classes. For the remainder of our visit, as well as on subsequent visits to Nagasaki, I spent a fair amount of time each day in various English classes. It was a wonderful way for me to get to know the students and their teachers.

    One of the English teachers asked me on that first day, “Would it be okay of our students called you Kevin-sensei instead of Mr. Carroll? They have difficulty pronouncing their R’s and L’s.” Of course, I said that would be fine. I grew to love the sound of the Junshin students greeting me enthusiastically by that title in the hallways, in the schoolyard, and even when they would see me at the local mall. 

    Staying with Saori’s family in Sotome turned out to be an absolute blessing. Her parents were wonderful. Her mother, who prepared meals at a local nursing home, prepared some amazing meals for us to share. Any fears I had about the possibility of not liking Japanese food quickly dissipated. Even though Saori’s parents didn’t speak English, we had some delightful conversations, thanks to Saori serving as our interpreter. They definitely made me feel like part of their family.

    As our homestay experience came to an end, I found myself overwhelmed with appreciation for the kindness and hospitality provided by Saori, her parents, and the entire Junshin school community who had so graciously welcomed us into their lives. On the morning of our departure, I didn’t want to leave. The special brand of hospitality I had experienced, known in Japan as omotenashi, had touched my heart and soul. I felt at home in Nagasaki. I felt at home with Saori’s family. I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

    As our flight ascended into the evening sky, I felt a tremendous sense of loss. Little did I know that I would return to Nagasaki the next year, and many more times after that. Now, twenty-five years after that first visit, Saori and I continue to nurture an excellent friendship. And why not? She’s family! 

    American novelist Sharon Shinn wrote, “Every journey makes its own map across your heart.” Yes, it most certainly does.

  • Today… and Every Day

    “Don’t judge each day
    by the harvest you reap,
    but by the seeds
    that you plant.” 
    Robert Louis Stevenson

    I invite and encourage you to pause… and take a few minutes to reflect on the people in your life who have been kind to you. Sadly, it seems so much easier for us to remember and dwell upon those who have hurt us, so taking a little time to think about those who have shown us kindness at some point in our lives can be a beneficial exercise.

    Consider your parents, siblings, extended family members, teachers, coaches, teammates, mentors, neighbors, friends, and coworkers. Think about people you may not have known, but who you remember because of some act of kindness they did for you. Then, in your own way, be grateful for these individuals and for the kindness they provided.

    • • •

    Tomorrow, November 13th, is World Kindness Day. I don’t know who makes these things up, but I appreciate the various opportunities to heighten our awareness of the positive aspects of life. In reality, every day should be a “kindness day,” and, I believe, for most of us, it is. Despite the evil we hear about in the world around us each day, there is no shortage of kindness in our lives. Yet a day set aside to consciously focus on the gift of kindness seems appropriate.

    I believe, and I hope those who know me have recognized, that I have gotten kinder with age. Maybe that’s a natural thing. I am less judgmental today than I was in years past. I don’t let the behavior of others disturb my inner peace as often as it used to. I am much more patient, and therefore more kind, while driving my car or waiting in the checkout line at a grocery store. All of these changes have improved my life, and, hopefully, the lives of those around me.

    Performing random acts of kindness has become a movement in our society today. It’s not uncommon for someone to pay for the coffee of the person behind them in the drive-thru line at Starbucks. Many small businesses now include acts of kindness as part of their marketing plan. Many school groups and business organizations now see the value of including some form of volunteer service to their community — acts of kindness to others — as an integral part of who they are and what they do.

    While an annual celebration of World Kindness Day is a commendable idea, we know that being kind to others is not just a once-a-year event. We are called, challenged, and urged to be kind, to others and to ourselves, every day. Actor Morgan Freeman was once asked, “How do we change the world?” His response was simple and direct. He said, “One random act of kindness at a time.”

    “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” 
    ~ Dr. Leo Buscaglia

  • A Beacon of Hope

    “Live your life
    like a lighthouse
    and be a
    beacon of hope
    to others.” 
    Pat Schwallie-Giddis

    I read the quote above and realized I selected the wrong name for this blog site. A Beacon of Light, yes, but far more importantly, I would like my writing to provide a beacon of hope to others.

    I’ve always had a fascination with lighthouses. There’s just something about them which engages my heart and soul. So when I went shopping back in 1984 to pick out a few wall decorations for my new office at work, my purchase included two framed photos of lighthouses. For a Christmas gift that year, my secretary, having noticed the photos on the wall, gave me a bottle of Old Spice after shave. The bottle was in the shape of a lighthouse. I liked it very much, so I kept it on my desk.

    Through the years, countless others, now believing that I was a collector of lighthouses, gifted me with a variety of lighthouse-themed items — calendars, figurines, paperweights, mugs, and photographs. In time, it seems that I did become a collector of these items. So when I launched this blog site, I chose to use the image of a lighthouse.

    As I mentioned, I would like my writing to inspire people and provide for readers a reason to be hopeful, mindful, grateful, and kind. Like a lighthouse, I hope to serve as a guiding force to help others through challenging times in their lives. Ultimately, I want to share my life, my experiences, and my light in such a way as to illuminate the journey of others.

    Ironically, just yesterday, I posted an image with a quote on my Facebook page. The image was of a stunning painting of a lighthouse by artist Steve Hamlin. To the image, I added a quote by local writer Anne Lamott. Her words echo my desire to be there for others. Anne wrote, “Lighthouses don’t go running all over the island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.”

    As for me, I just sit here writing. I never know if anyone will see what I’ve written, much less take the time to read it. Yet, I put it out there, knowing that there just might be someone who needs to hear exactly what I’ve written on a particular day. For these individuals, my words might serve as a beacon to help them navigate the challenges of their day.

    It is often said that we learn something new every day. My lesson learned today is that I am a pharologist — that is, one who studies or is enthused by lighthouses. The word sounds so academic. Perhaps I should add it to my professional résumé!  

  • Saratoga & Williams

    “There is nothing permanent
    except change.” 
    Heraclitus

    Kathy and I moved into our West San José home in October 1986. At the time, we’d been married for fifteen months and had a five-month-old son, after whose birth we quickly outgrew our modest Santa Clara home on Lincoln Street. Neither Kathy nor I were exceptionally gifted at cooking in those days, so we’d gotten in the habit of eating many of our meals at local restaurants. When we made the move to West San José, I couldn’t help but notice the multiple dining options available to us at the nearest major intersection — Saratoga Avenue & Williams Road.

    The night we moved into our new home, we enjoyed dinner at Carrows, which was located on the east side of Saratoga Avenue one block north of Williams Road. It was a convenient, affordable place for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Carrows closed several years ago and has been replaced by Denny’s, which used to be at the southwest corner of Saratoga and 280. That Denny’s location closed and was replaced by Applebees prior to reopening the new Denny’s in the old Carrows building.

    On the northeast corner of Saratoga & Willams, there was a dry cleaners and a Wendy’s Restaurant. In the 38 years we’ve lived here, I’m pretty sure I’ve been to Wendy’s less than a dozen times. I enjoyed stopping by with the boys occasionally for a vanilla or chocolate Frosty. Of course, I was also intrigued by their finger-licking good bowl of chili, though I’ve never tried it.

    Speaking of finger-licking good, the northwest side of the intersection included Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Starbucks. Kathy and I were regulars at Starbucks. I’m not a big KFC fan, but Kathy is, so she would occasionally stop by and pick up a bucket of chicken for dinner for our family.

    The southwest corner of the intersection included a Rotten Robbie gas station with an attached restaurant — The Bill of Fare. This was an excellent place to enjoy breakfast. Their service was exceptional, as was the food served there. The prices were a little high, but the experience was well worth the cost. Behind the gas station, facing Saratoga Avenue, was Taco Bell. It was a small shop with limited inside seating, but the convenience of American Mexican food in a fast-food setting made it a popular spot for locals. And right next door to Taco Bell was our neighborhood McDonald’s.

    Across the street from McDonald’s, on the east side of Saratoga just a block south of Williams Road, was a unique Japanese restaurant. Ringer Hut specialized in noodle dishes, specifically a meal known as champon, a traditional meal from Nagasaki, Japan. It wasn’t until my first visit to Nagasaki in 1998 that I realized that Ringer Hut was an excellent place for authentic Japanese food. Kathy and I became regulars there, too.

    Much has changed in the neighborhood in the past 38 years. Taco Bell closed. McDonald’s closed. Rotten Robbie was renovated and enlarged, displacing The Bill of Fare, which now occupies the old McDonald’s building and continues to do a thriving business. The renovation of the gas station required the demolition of the Taco Bell building. 

    KFC closed not too long ago, as did our local Starbucks. Both have been replaced with Mexican restaurants I have not yet tried. Ringer Hut, too, closed its doors soon after the pandemic. A new Japanese noodle restaurant, Udon Mugizo, now occupies the building, but I have yet to try it. And a little further south on Saratoga, a relatively new sushi restaurant, Suro Sushi Bar & Grill, offers a delightful array of Japanese dishes.

    I briefly mentioned the dry cleaning business next to Wendy’s. That business closed many years ago, and for quite some time, the retail space was vacant. Several years ago, Rose Café and Donuts opened in that location. They had been forced out of their previous retail space on the southeast corner of Saratoga Avenue and Quito Road to make room for a new CVS store. Rose Café is my favorite place for breakfast or lunch in our neighborhood. Their donuts are excellent, too, though I can no longer eat them. The high quality food and exceptional service make Rose Café a popular venue for locals. 

    With all the changes in the neighborhood in the past 38 years, I am amazed that the last of the original restaurants still in business at the same location is Wendy’s. I find this surprising, as they never seem to be busy. Somehow, they manage to keep their doors open and serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner to those who choose to go there. I’m grateful that Kathy has a newfound love of cooking and that we’ve learned the importance of healthy eating. There’s no place like home.  

  • Murder at Beach Chalet

    “I don’t mind a reasonable
    amount of trouble.”
    Dashiell Hammett
    (The Maltese Falcon)

    Anyone born and raised in San Francisco, or who had ancestors living in The City from the mid-1930’s through the turbulent ’60’s, will more than likely find the book I finished reading last night to be of tremendous interest. Co-authored by Glenn ImObersteg and Paul Totah, Murder at Beach Chalet is simply one of the most well-crafted historical novels I’ve ever read.

    The book’s cover includes an image of one of the murals gracing the walls inside the main entrance to Beach Chalet, which is located at the west end of Golden Gate Park with a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean. Known now for its upscale restaurants, the building has a storied history. Glenn and Paul use this venue as a foundational piece of their intriguing story.

    I was most impressed by the high-quality writing, the accuracy of information about San Francisco and The City’s history, and the development of the various characters in the story. I was also fascinated by the interrelationship of the characters. Murder at Beach Chalet captivated my interest from start to finish. 

    I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Paul Totah since the 1960’s. We both grew up in the Sunset District of San Francisco, attended Saint Gabriel School, Saint Ignatius College Prep, and Santa Clara University. We even worked together as prefects in the student dormitory at Bellarmine College Prep during our college years. Paul recently retired following a successful career as a teacher and public relations director at Saint Ignatius. 

    If I’m not mistaken, Murder at Beach Chalet is Paul third published book. His first two, Spiritus ‘Magis’ (the history of Saint Ignatius High School) and The Gospel of Everyone (a poetic retelling of the Gospel of Luke) were informative and inspirational. I’m eagerly awaiting the publication of his next book, The Sutro Murders, which he is also co-authoring with Glenn ImObersteg, with an expected publication date of 2025.

  • Accepting What Is

    “Our wounds are 
    often openings into 
    the best and most beautiful 
    part of us.” 
    David Richo 

    Today’s blog post is a brief summary of David Richo’s inspiring book 5 Things We Cannot Change.

    1. Everything changes.

    In life, change is inevitable. No matter how much we try to resist it or hold on to what is familiar, everything is subject to change. This lesson teaches us to embrace change as an opportunity for growth and transformation, rather than fearing or resisting it.

    2. Impermanence.

    Similar to the first lesson, this lesson emphasizes that nothing lasts forever. Everything in life has a beginning and an end. Understanding the impermanence of all things helps us appreciate and savor the present moment, rather than constantly seeking security and permanence.

    3. Life is not always fair.

    The reality of life is that it is not always fair. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and others seemingly have unearned advantages. This lesson teaches us to accept that life is inherently unfair and focus on our own personal growth and how we respond to challenges, rather than dwelling on the unfairness of external circumstances.

    4. Pain is a part of life.

    Pain and suffering are unavoidable aspects of the human experience. Instead of avoiding or suppressing pain, this lesson teaches us to embrace it as an opportunity for learning and growth. By acknowledging and processing our pain, we develop resilience, compassion, and wisdom.

     5. We are not in control.

    Despite our desires for control and certainty, the truth is that we have limited control over most aspects of our lives. This lesson encourages us to let go of the need for control and embrace a sense of surrender, trusting in the natural flow of life. By accepting our lack of control, we can find peace and learn to adapt to whatever circumstances arise.

    Richo’s book is available
    on Amazon.

  • Remembering Jimmy

    “Wish not so much 
    to live long 
    as to live well.”  
    Benjamin Franklin

    Jimmy Melton was our neighbor when Kathy and I moved into our home on Panda Lane in October 1986. He was young, I’d estimate in his late 20’s or early 30’s. He was single. I don’t recall what he did for a living, but I do remember that he lived his life to the fullest. On weekends, I’d see him load up his Jeep with his bicycle, camping gear, or kayak. He was always on the move. He participated in triathlons on a regular basis, and it was not unusual for him to take a Saturday morning bike ride from his home to the top of Mt. Hamilton and back. Yes, Jimmy lived his life to the fullest.

    In the mid-90’s, Jimmy married the love of his life. She was delightful, and already had two great children, a boy and a girl. They moved in with Jimmy. A year or so later, they realized that their two-bedroom condo wasn’t meeting their needs, so they purchased a home around the corner on Daffodil Way.

    Jimmy also had a dog. A big dog. I don’t remember the breed, but I remember seeing him in the neighborhood running with the dog. One morning in the late 90’s, while running with his dog around the track at the old Blackford High School campus, Jimmy dropped dead. To say that it was unexpected is an understatement. Jimmy appeared to be the epitome of good health. His death rocked our community — and me.

    While he was still living in his condo on Panda Lane, Jimmy noticed a small patch of dirt, next to his garage door, which was not maintained. If I remember correctly, the small space was not included in the contract our association had with the landscapers. So Jimmy planted a couple of rose bushes. Even after he moved out of our complex, those roses provided beauty and joy to those of us still living here.

    The years of drought took a toll on the rose bushes, and by 2010, they were dead and gone. Since that time, the patch of dirt has remained untouched — until this past weekend when our youngest son, Brendan, decided to adopt the space. Brendan has always had success with growing plants, so he took a trip to Home Depot to get what he needed to resurrect the area. It didn’t take him long to create a beautiful little garden to be enjoyed by all.

    Many neighbors have come and gone through the years. Most of those who live in the community now never knew or even heard about Jimmy Melton. They didn’t know of his kindness, his athleticism, or his commitment to doing whatever was needed to make our community a better place to live. I’m grateful for the time and effort Brendan devoted to revitalizing this little plot of land. It looks great, and our current neighbors have noticed and appreciate his effort. Brendan clearly has Jimmy’s spirit of giving.

  • Back in the Classroom

    “It is the supreme art of the teacher 
    to awaken joy in 
    creative expression and knowledge.”  
    Albert Einstein

    My good friend and mentor, Preston Moss, shared a thought with me back in 1975 when I was teaching at Saint Augustine’s College in the Bahamas. Here it is, almost fifty years later, and his words are as pertinent as the day he spoke them. He said, “Ya can’t give wat ya ain’t got.”

    As I approach the age of 70, which I’ve been told is the new 50, there is one thing I have to share with others for which I am tremendously grateful: my passion for writing. I retired from full-time teaching in 2015. I found myself back in the classroom as an emergency long-term sub from 2019 to 2021. Beginning this Tuesday, October 24th, I’ll be back in the classroom once again — teaching two adult education courses in Santa Clara.

    A few months back, a woman from the Santa Clara Adult Education office asked if I could teach an adult education course in poetry. I assured her I could. A few weeks later, she asked if I’d be interested in also teaching a course in creative writing. I told her I’d be happy to do so. I am now officially employed, on a part-time basis, by the Santa Clara Unified School District.

    The creative writing course is offered one day a week, on Tuesdays from 10:00 A.M. to noon, for eight weeks. The poetry course will be held on Tuesday evenings from 6:30 to 8:30 P.M. This course is also for eight weeks. The courses will be offered again in early 2024.

    While I don’t miss teaching, and I’m not really in need of the additional income, I am excited about the opportunity to share my passion for writing — both creative writing and poetry writing. 

    Everyone has a story to tell. Author Maya Angelou said, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Some might mistakenly believe that anything they could write has probably already been written. While there may be some truth to this, I will remind my students that no one else has experienced or sees the world exactly as they do, so no one else can possibly tell the stories they have to share. 

    Many people, it seems, have a strong desire to write, but feel inadequate in their writing skills. I urge them to just write. What we put down on paper does not have to be perfect. In fact, rarely, if ever, is a first draft anywhere near perfect. The important thing is to get our ideas on paper, because then we have the opportunity to make improvements to what we’ve written. We cannot edit a blank page.

    As we embark on this writing journey together, I can only hope that I awaken joy in the creative expression and knowledge of my students. 

  • You Have Mail!

    “The Postal Service exists 
    to serve every American, 
    regardless of where you live 
    or what you believe.”  
    Conor Lamb

    It’s not unusual for me to hear people complain about the postal service. Some complain that their mail is delivered too late in the afternoon. It’s true that mail occasionally gets delivered to the wrong address. The cost of mailing a first-class letter continues to increase. If I’m not mistaken, the price to mail a letter today is sixty-six cents, with another increase planned before the end of 2023. The United States Postal Service is not a perfect organization, but it sure is good.

    I’m often amazed when I think about the volume of mail delivered in the United States each day. Even with the options of email, social media, and online face-to-face communication, many people today still prefer to write hand-written letters and cards and drop them in the mailbox. While most people today pay their bills online, there are those who are more comfortable writing a check and sending it via postal mail. Of course, we’re all aware of the incredible amount of unsolicited junk mail delivered to our homes each day. If this is overwhelming for us, I can only imagine the burden on the letter carriers. Yet somehow, with amazing accuracy, our mail most often reaches its intended destination in a timely fashion.

    I am especially grateful that I have the ability to refill prescriptions for medications by phone and have those meds mailed directly to my home by the United States Postal Service. I appreciate that I can write a birthday card, thank you note, or message of condolence and send it to a friend or loved one for under a buck, whether the recipient lives around the corner or on the east coast. I also enjoy the convenience of ordering a book on Amazon and having it delivered to my door by the USPS, often within two days.

    Novelist Jane Austen once wrote, “The post-office is a wonderful establishment! The regularity and dispatch of it! If one thinks of all that it has to do, and all that it does so well, it is really astonishing!”

    It’s easy to complain about people and things. I do it more often than I’d like to admit. It’s essential, however, that we recognize the good in our world, and acknowledge when things are done well.