From email: Requiem for Dr. Daniel Amneus

[Brent]

I'm familiar with some of Dr. Amneus' work, including "The Garbage Generation".

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REQUIEM FOR DR. DANIEL AMNEUS

By Robert Lindsay; Cheney Jr.
January 8, 2004

I am quiescent and circumspect.  Sad and reposed.

I just received news that my mentor, the honorable Dr. Daniel Amneus passed
away just last month on December 18th, 2003.  Like a somber mid-December
storm, a great passing has occurred in this nation; quietly, and without
fanfare.  Like a dark rain, something important has passed us all, in
profound silence.  But that passing has meant something.  I hope to put the
words here to show who and what this man was, and what he had accomplished.

Most Father's Rights advocates have no idea whom Dr. Amneus was.  They have
no idea of his foundational contributions to the movement.  They have not
read his most compelling works.  Yet they must.   The modern contemporary
men's movement and its achievements of the last decade, can be directly
traced to him.  He was not the first Father's Rights advocate, but
certainly, he was the most concise and eloquent of our forefathers who
wrote about Father's and family rights, (at a time when it was not only not
recognized, but openly excoriated).  Like Galileo, he saw an immutable
truth, and wrote comprehensive text about it­which allowed our modern
movement a solid socio-political treatise which indomitably changed the
face of fatherhood, and made Father's Rights marketable and more
mainstream.  He paid a price for that dedication and truth: his work was
mostly ignored.

I am the direct heir of his knowledge, and carry on his teachings, words
and works.  He was a quiet, aquiline man of great intellect; he was the
unrecognized sage of our times.  He was a vested university professor, a
sage, writer and intellect.  He lived quietly in Alhambra,
California­retired­in a modest two-story home.  I remember first visiting
him in the summer of 1998, and he immediately took me in with open arms.  I
remember my first night with him, sitting late at night in his dimly lit
living room, we spoke of immutable truths.  We hit it off from the moment
we met.  He was in his eighties, and I in my late forties­he took strength
from having me there.   We spoke of many things and had many give and take
sessions that first night.  We stayed up until almost 4AM before we
mutually agreed to go to bed.  The resultant days and months the Dr. Amneus
and I visited and corresponded, were more like Father and son then mentor
and student; yet, there was a degree of separation between us, due to we
both being wounded by the current child support system and the courts which
destroy fathers.

His, was a likely tale.  He and I never went into our personal tragedies,
but we did speak about our sons.  I knew he also had a daughter and was
eminently proud of her, but our conversations and concerns we both had,
always lay with our sons.  I always sensed his underlying angst between his
relationship with his son­and we spoke of that.  These things brought us
closer, and under his guidance and tutelage, I was able to conceive and
gain my direction and voice, directly due to his efforts and sage
reasoning's.  Without his efforts, I doubt I could have progressed my work
as far as it has gone.

The man was a great intellect, coming clearly from a classical background
and training.  His mind was eminently empirical, and he countenanced no
less excellence in either his work or his students work.  My first book was
given to him around 1994
(http://www.angelfire.com/home/sufferingpatriarchy/index2.htm) and he was greatly disappointed by it.  It was my first edition writing
on this subject, and I was quite deflated...as I was hoping for compassionate
kudos from him, as every student wants to gain the acceptance of his
teacher.  But I could tell that it was not my content which disappointed
him, but rather, it was my form factor: no bibliography, no
footnotes.  "There's too much wrong with it," was his short review of my
first book.  Yet, he urged me on­and our correspondence never faulted.

You would have to know the man to understand the intellect.  He was nothing
like I had ever met.  I am a very upfront, confident and forward person.  I
say what I mean and when I knew my direction­I go without delay or
falter.   We could not be more dissimilar.  He was a quiet, reserved
man.  One who tread in a measured pace.  When we spoke together, it was a
comical sight, as my mind was fast as his was digestive.  I could count
innumerable times, where I would pose him with direct questions, and during
my discussion, he would completely stop the conversation and go into the
depths of a profound silence.  He would literally stop all motion, and the
conversation; and sit and quietly think.  During this time, minutes would
go by, maybe to a quarter hours time, to my complete astonishment.  I would
sit and start wondering if he actually heard me.   In these early
conversations, I found that, he did in fact, hear me, but instead of
ignoring me, he was in fact, just profoundly thinking.  During our later
conversations, when he was in deep reflection­I would just stop and wait
for him, totally exasperated.  Then, in five, sometimes ten or fifteen
minutes later, he would begin to answer me; and when the answer came, it
was always profound, given in a different light of deep through which I had
not considered.

It was exasperating for me though.  I wanted to push ahead, and suck all
his knowledge from him.  Sometimes I felt our relationship had developed to
one where we were husband and wife and just "accepted" the quirky
differences between us.  But, it must have been a comical sight for God to
look down at us, with me anxious, demanding and bludgeoning him forward,
biting at the bit willing the moment to push forwards and onward to some
higher truth while conversely; the good Doctor, would sit there demurely
digesting his thoughts.   It drove me nuts.

But we would take great joy in each other.  One thing he would love doing
is to take me to the Black Angus restaurant.  There, he was in his element,
holding court, with good food, and good wine and good conversation.  But I
could see the joy of a child when early evening came­he wanted to go
out.   I accepted his excited invitations because he showed a
Christmas-like glee in the moment.  It was the high point of the day for
him­and I would see him revel eating as we would talk intently, and after
the banquet, he would grab his tummy and sigh that he was full, then
pleadingly say: *sigh*, "I'm old.  I'm so old."

I'd chuckle, and politely differ the reality, yet; the words always worried
me.  He was advanced in age and feeble, and it was getting worse.  I would
call him from Northern California or New York, and he would answer his
phone in complete disarray­our first five minutes of speaking during these
difficult times would contain me screaming slowly into my end of the phone
saying: "It's ME--Bob!  Bob Cheney!"  To his confused reply: "Rob
who?  Reeny?  Who?...Who is this??" he would say defiantly, as if it were yet
another phone salesman.  After this futile preliminary dialogue which
occurred each and every time I called, he would finally say with bright
realization with great excited gusto: "Bob Cheney!  How is Bob Cheney
today!?" and we'd then begin our conversation in earnest.  It made me laugh
every time as I unconsciously threw both my arms up in the efforts to speak
with him by phone...and when I hung up the phone each time, I was
drained.  It all worried me. One of the last times I spoke to him, he said
he was tired of fighting the government, and he saw no redress in the
insolence of the Family Court and its related institutions.  He had given
up hope.

I think him right.

He found me a resource when I was there with him.  As I was a systems
engineer, and really knew computers, and he was thrilled having me there
with him to assist him.  I'd be downstairs writing and he'd quietly beseech
me for help upstairs.  I would go up through the winding catacomb of his
home, threading my way through walls of books and newspaper clippings and
other reference works which were quite considerable and piled in every
conceivable place.  Like landmines in an Iraqi desert, you'd never know
when a tower of paper or books would suddenly come tumbling down.  There,
in one corner of the upper room, cramped by piles of paper around him, he
sat in sartorial splendor of his own making.  The cramped quarters of his
computer (with everything inaccessible) around him, with his (inaccessible)
printer sitting right behind him.  You'd have more room sitting in an F-18
fighter than typing at his computer.  Yet I would sit there and he'd stand
behind me and we'd converse as to what he wanted and he'd be so thrilled
and thankful when I solved his problem.  I knew he needed help and I wanted
the best for him­I would have loved to have someone there to help him all
the time.  I knew there was a part of him that was lonely...and that needed
this safety and attention.  I could tell he needed me there in me being
with him.  There was a bond developed, one of trust and understanding,
which was very remarkable in both our lives.

I remember those days of bright sunshine, of his blue pool which I would
swim laps in.  Of his quiet home cut silently by the right light coming in
through his back yard.  His quiet cats which danced quietly about his house
as my mind was working and stimulated.  I remember his racy red Dodge
compact which he drove with all the alacrity of an eighty-year-old.  He
lived comfortably, but he hurt within, like all men who have gone through
life having their children removed from their lives.  Both he and I, like
most men, were playing wounded on the field of life­quietly pacing each day.

He wanted to help others...so he took the tools of his trade: his mind, his
teaching and his writing and applied them to the current problem of modern
Fatherhood.  The Father's Rights movement has no idea of the treasure it
has lost.  A great national treasure has passed from our midst­and there is
nothing in recognition.  Only silence.  We should mark him better, and
defend not only his name, but his work for all time to come.

His first book on Father's Rights was a book called "Back to Patriarchy,"
printed by Arlington House Publishers in June of 1979.[1]  I read the book,
and although it was good, it had not truly established his voice.  It was
merely the first gauntlet thrown to the floor which would later be the
basis of his further ideas of development into Patriarchy, which progressed
with his other works.  His second work was "The Garbage Generation,"
[published under his own label of Primrose Press, 1990], which was a book
which finally came into his own.  This book was clarity, and had defined
not only the standards of Fatherlessness, but had established the watermark
of the modern men's movement.  All Father's Advocates owe their work to the
Garbage Generation, yet; the future was to arrive in his next book.

I first came upon the Garbage Generation in about 1992 and was very
impressed by the work and not only in what it said, but the definitive and
empirical truths it produced.  My work up to that time was related more to
law and how it related to fatherhood...and I was floundering.  Like
attempting to make anti-matter with pick and shovel, I just didn't have the
tools with which to progress.   It was Dr. Amneus next book: The Case for
Father Custody, [Primrose Press 2000], which truly opened my eyes.

We had already been conversing by then, having one John Knight of the
Father's Manifesto, who saw similarities enough to bring us together.  Dr.
Amneus had graciously given me a pre-release copy of The Case for Father
Custody, and the second I read it, I fully understood its import.  I saw
both the past and the future at once, after reading this watershed work.  I
knew it was the answer.  My further research, has affirmed his work.

This was a body of work which is the watershed of our movement.  Where
contemporary men and author's have written mere expose's, such as Dr.
Warren Farrell's The Myth of Male Power Penguin USA (2001);  and Dr. Wade
Horn's The Fatherhood Initiative;  Jeffery M. Leving, Father's Rights:
Hard-Hitting & Fair Advice for Every Father Involved in a Custody Dispute,
[HarperCollins; (April 1997)]; as well as Dr. Steven Baskerville's work;
David Blankenhorn's Fatherless America, etc., it was Amneus who wrote to
the breadth of humanity.  Where modern writers speak to the illness, Amneus
addressed and uncovered the genetic code and model.  He gave us the
answers, deep within his intrinsic thoughts, his profound insight and
empirical and definitive proofs.  He gave us the Fatherhood genome and
revealed every code throughout its DNA. Our movement quietly stands on
Amneus, and most people have no idea of these facts.  It is not only the
men's movement, who in the future, will appreciate his work, but rather, it
is humankind who will also begin to understand his work as future
generations read it by and through the doctrine of necessity.  Like the
great classics of our time, The Case for Father Custody, will be a
definitive work about Father's Rights which will stand separate from all
others lesser works.  It is the classic of our time, and we must respect
that, and pay homage to that fact.

Most people do not read Amneus.  They do not know he even exists.  However;
when they are introduced to his work, the reaction is profound.  To put it
succinctly, his work is irrefutable, un-rebuttable.  It is the duty of any
true Father's Rights advocate to read Dr. Amneus The Case for Father
Custody.  We must make new effort to adopt Amneus work into the Lexicon of
the modern Father's Rights movement.  It would behoove us to categorically
demand that each of his works be in each and every library throughout the
United States.

Sadly, like my work­he was critical of his own creation.  I kept on urging
him to continue his work to produce another progressive volume to raise us
to an even higher level, however; he was consumed about going back and
redoing his work and even renaming the title.   I did everything to
dissuade him, as he was not convinced of its veracity. As we spoke of these
things at length, he knew I would ennoble his work, and yet, he would
grudgingly accept my kudos at arms length, with trepidation­but, he was
always driven to better it.   I kept telling him, however; that his
work­needed no further redoing or modification.  I, as others have
recognized it as a monumental work which has shaped the modern men's
movement in the United States and beyond.

I am reminded of my brother now.  When I first transferred from Humboldt to
Chico State University­I got a desolate call from the east coast.  My
brother (eighteen at the time and in his first year of college) had dove
into a river and inadvertently hit his head on a rock and drowned.  A
needless and bitter tragedy for me.

When I came back to California, I attempted to return to study, but­could
barely sleep.  I could not reconcile the loss.  I could not be consoled,
and instead, withdrew.   I remember walking one very late night, unable to
sleep, thinking about him, weeping inside at his thought.  As I walked in
the dark silence, I heard a song, way, way in the distance­haunting.  It
went:

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Susanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things
to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now

Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you fire and rain, now

As I heard this song I was stung by its sweet soliloquy and music.  It
pained me to hear it.  And now hearing of Dr. Amneus death, the song
returns and haunts me and plays in my mind.

And I am sad.

The Father's Rights movement has lost a great man.  We have lost others
before him, and continue to lose those who have given so much to our
cause.  We must recognize these great men, and begin to place them not only
in our minds, but into our monuments, so we not only do not forget them,
but more importantly­we not forget their words and their work.  It is time
we start making the public recognize these people's dedication and work,
which, in this one case, should withstand the test of time.

Socrates once stated that it is the duty for every student to surpass his
teacher.  My work now, is clear and well-defined.

However; it is now up to you not to forget Dr. Amneus and what work he did,
and the profound words he spoke in our behalf.  It is up to us to stand up
and not only to say his words, but more importantly to understand
them.  Then, we must teach them.  Amneus work should be required reading
for every college student in the United States.   We should teach
Patriarchy, with more veracity than we do feminist rights which now
predominate our university training curriculum.  We should venerate and
remember not only him, but others within our movement, like Mr. Mom, and
others who have with great dedication, kept our faith.  It is time to
venerate those who came before us, and gave us so much, and left us with
the treasure which it is up to us to carry forwards.

We are about to do great things.  We are about to stand on our own two
feet.   It is time we acknowledge those like Dr. Daniel Amneus­and make
them monuments to be remembered and admired.  For they have set our compass
and our future, we would be bereft in our duty, by forgetting them.

Remember Dan.  He was my mentor.  I am in fact, his student, and his
prodigy.  We all are.

--  30  --



[1] Amneus other works were: The Mystery of MacBeth, Primrose Press; (May
1983)
The Three Orthello's  Primrose Pr; (March 1986)   He was a University
English professor, and he was an expert on Shakespeare and his works.

[MKx2]

A profound and moving requiem for Dr. Amneus ... we all hope that at some point in our lives, in our children's lives we can be touched by greatness, wisdom, humility and and courage.  It would appear that Dr. Amneus was a man of this stature for Bob Cheney.

Though I have not read any of his writing, I will do so based on this tremendous piece by Cheney, honoring Dr. Amneus.

Thank you for posting this, Brent ... it will perhaps touch more lives.