Posted tagged ‘Memorial Day’


May 28, 2018

mem honor

I hope this posting will make you happy — really  happy and grateful for what you might have in your life.      I mean,  Home Sweet Home, right?

I got this photo today    (which I took as an invitation – ha ha! )   —

Picnic Donner Lake 300x400

Never mind that the invitation comes from about 2,000 miles away.    Daughter lives there:  on the shore of Donner Lake,  High Sierra   (as in:  Donner Pass which closes regularly during the winter snows.)    Their property is ideal for summer picnics and parties,  so they get to be the hosts for all their friends for summer fun.

Hold on to that for a moment.

Then,  I was driving home one day and saw this beautiful contrast in Green:


(I know, I know;   some of my friends think I shouldn’t be taking pictures as I drive.)   It’s been a very nice Spring around here this year.  Lots of Green!


So I got home to my front yard.      Everything in a kind of monochrome bright green.  Leaves,  bushes,  grass,  all the same shade of Spring Green.

Back yard,  same thing:

DECK m id May right 380

Never in a million years would I,  a “poor”  kid growing up in Chicago,  ever dream that I’d own property like this.    Daughter has done well too.  Son has done well too.    All our neighbors have done pretty well too.

Whether it’s out West in California or here in the Far North,   we and most of the people I know Own Property.

I humbly thank God for this property.

I proudly thank our soldiers for  making it possible to hang on to our property,  defending our country and our Constitutional freedoms – with their lives.

Here’s the Memorial Day thought:     We have the right to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.     Which part of that does it take to actually own some property?

To own some property, no matter where it is and no matter what it looks like and no matter how big it is?   What does it take?

You can teach your children or young friends this:    It takes  the Freedom to look at some property that you’d like to have,  dream about it,   and then do what the people who live on property like that had to do in order to become owners.

They had to go to school and do good in school and then get trained to get a job that pays steady, living wages with a little bit more for savings.  ( I know some men who did not get married until they had saved enough to buy some property,  and a house,    for themselves and their future wives.)


If you have your mind set on a bigger, more beautiful house and land,  then you do what those kind of people did to get into a bigger, more beautiful house.    Usually that takes (1)  starting your own business)  and/or  (2)  going to some college for  a degree in some job that pays well . . . or very, very well.

And it usually takes  (3)  time and making small steps.  Hubbie and I didn’t’ start out in this house.

Another thing is to NOT do the things the people with nice property didn’t do either.   Like partying every weekend;  like not saving money  religiously, as they say.     Like spending lots of money on entertainment.    Like doing illegal or immoral things that sidetrack you with “complications.”       Like always choosing the easier route.

Contrary to what you see in the entertainment-news media.  Americans  ALL have the Freedom to choose their lifestyle as well as to choose what kind of property they’d like to earn.     Freedom to Pursue Happiness.

Thank you and God Bless all our men in uniform who keeps this possibility going.

Flag don't tread






May 26, 2018


mem honor

The Freedom we enjoy today didn”t come cheap.   Memorial Day,  May 31st,   Memorial Day weekend now;  we honor those who gave their lives to keep us free – in past wars, especially the big world wars when invasion by an enemy was quite possible.

I’m honoring the good things about America   to honor what those men died for.  We all owe them that much.


It’s in the Bill of Rights,  something that is unique about America.  We can meet with people of our own choosing  without reporting to authorities.      We can be with friends and groups of friends in private,  without fear of being surveiled.   (That’s a freedom we’ve got to hang on to with all our attention.)

How do you exercise your freedom of assembly?     I was in a book club for a long time,  sort of like this:

book club

No one asked us for a list of names who were meeting together like that,  discussing any book we wanted to discuss.    We were not registered with the local authorities.   We all were FREE to meet together!

I also chose to be in a community orchestra for a long time.  I think this is ours as it looks now:


I played flute and  I was the orchestra treasurer.  Everything honest, legal, above board, and quite interesting.         I never had to make reports to any authority.

That’s Freedom of Assembly with whomever  you want and for any purpose.    It’s in our American Constitution –  what our  dead war heroes swore to protect with their lives.

I  “assemble”  with my Recorder friend too,  every other week:

Now that it’s summer,  my friend and I can play outside,  in her gazebo.   The view from inside that outdoor room is wonderful!

Gazebo big outside 380

It’s like  making beautiful music in a park!       Our Constitution gives us a right to Private Property too, and I appreciate that too this weekend.

Gazeborecorder 380

Recorder practice and a nice dessert table.


gazebo walking down into 380

Going down the steps into the gazebo


We are free in this country – still – to build little out-buildings,  barns,  and . . .  gazebos, too,   on our own property.

My friend has a garden, designed any way she pleases.    This time of the year,  the specialty is rhubarb!

gazebo cake 380

Rhubarb Pudding Cake –  with whipped cream.     She do set a good table!

I’m going to travel soon,  to Florida,  to the Far Far North,  to California,  and back to Florida,  or some such order.

Because of our freedoms,  I can cross state line after state line and never have to show my identification papers.    (So far.)

I guess what I’m sayng is there’s not any activity that we all can choose to do that doesn’t honor our soldiers and sailors,  honor the freedoms they fought and died for.    Make your own list.  Do your own things!

Honor our young men in uniform.  Dead now.

memor day

Land of the Free because of  The Brave!











May 25, 2018


(a little rant before the weekend begins)

grandpa's tombst blurred

I always get “twitchy” around Memorial Day   – so many men gave their lives for . . .  for us    . . .  but for what, now?   

As you can tell by my Grandpa’s headstone up there,  he did not die in a war,  he was a veteran,  and Veterans Day is for honoring all the veterans.   But,  in my own small family,  I don’t think there is any man that died in an American war.   It’s just that I knew my Grandpa,  and I know how much he risked by joining the Navy during WWI –  sailing around France, in danger from German submarines.

But Memorial Day is to honor all those who died in one of our wars.     They had much to risk – and then they died after taking that risk.

mem honor

Hubbie’s family, on the other hand,  did have two young men in the prime of their lives die,  fighting for our country.

Anyone see Hacksaw Ridge?    For me it was the best movie presentation of actual conditions of fighting.  (At least in those kind of wars.)    If you haven’t seen the movie yet, please do.  And if you are one of those who say,  “I can’t stand to see all that violence.”  I don’t want to watch all that violence and death . . .”  —   personally I think you should just excuse yourself from Memorial Day too.

Memorial Day is for the death and violence of war.  Remember the young man,  Dawson Doss,  whose life was depicted in Hacksaw Ridge?        Remember his life before the war? Remember where he came from?     From a beautiful rural area,  green mountains,  fresh air,  American traditions,  family,  and a brother, close in age to him.

wwii frirnds

Here’s a photograph of a similar young man back then,  with his best friend.   Ordinary, young American boys –  risking it all in a time of war.

One of the young men,  Hubbie’s uncle, the tall one,  didn’t make it back from World War Two.

Here’s the sweetheart he left behind (from an album page):

wwii blurred

They were supposed to be married.  Instead, all that came home was his “body.”   He was blown up by a kamikazi pilot . . .   Then, a few years later,   his brother was pinned down with his unit in a river in  Korea –  and nearly all of them died there.

All those of our men who gave their lives in war were loved ones in their families.   They’re all missed, still talked about,  remembered,  honored – as best we can.

I wish we could honor them by preserving, by means other than war,   the country that they died for in order to preserve.


It’s so dishonorable to participate in criminal activity,  dishonesty in public affairs,  cheating,  lying – tearing down this country by drug use,  gang activity and being soft on gang activity  –  that’s not America –   and by allowing foreign citizens to march into our nation in uncountable numbers demanding that our taxpayers take care of them or demanding that our laws be changed or that their religion be taught in our schools  (oh, yes, that’s happening all around our country);   and then it’s so dishonorable to tear down the moral fabric of our society, by engaging in the immoral behavior that our soldiers never meant to uphold. . .  by dissolving the sanctity of the family (man-woman-children),  and by killing so many of  our little babies.

Okay,  you could make up your own list of things our men did not intend to die for in the wars that took their lives.


 (So I get a little “twitchy”  when I think of these things.   Irritated.     A little prickly when discussions of  how bad wars are – of course they’re bad –  or of how many wars  are fought for illegal reasons benefiting only “the rich.”

I get a little irritated with those who want to avoid facing the thought of the  violence and death that our   men faced in war.  (Put some feathers over your face or something;  our men really had to die for what we enjoy today.)

And for goodness’ sakes!  Let’s make sure the Lawless and Wicked politicians in  high places get prosecuted!!!    Let’s be outraged that those under investigation  are “slow-walking”  their compliance, so that maybe their friends will get elected in November, and then maybe they will never be prosecuted!

This is not honoring all those who died for America.

Well, so, the rest of this weekend,   I’ll honor these men in my heart, as best I can;  I’ll pray for their souls,  which is a good thing to do;  and I’ll just count off in The Spruce Tunnel here  some of the things I can enjoy in my own little surroundings —  because these men died for us all.  



May 30, 2016

Just want to put some Memorial Day thoughts up here.  I’ve done it the traditional way many times before – honoring my family members who have served in the Armed Forces.

This time I’ll get a bit . . . philosophical.


Prettiest picture I could find today.  The bald eagle.  Our national  emblem.   Our majestic bird.     Head bowed.  Claws folded.

Of course, that’s an anthropomorphism,  but sometimes it’s useful to see ourselves in others.        Part of “majesty”  is being humble enough to gratefully acknowledge things greater than ourselves.   We hope our nation, we hope our people, we hope we ourselves can aspire to majesty.

Certainly,  the honor and duty and self-sacrifice of our soldiers, sailors, and marines who have given their lives to defend our country are also part of the majesty that describes our great nation.   And all of us:  knowing what’s right and wrong;  doing our duty;   willing to work and to sacrifice for a higher cause — we all make this nation great.

And a big salute to you who salute our Fallen Heroes:


I love these people who make up Rolling Thunder.    They’ve inspired me from their very beginnings in 1988.    They remind us to think of those who are Missing In Action, dead or alive,    as well as those who are known to be dead.

It was odd to comb the news sources yesterday and today and find only photos that show a few bikers at a time.   They’ve been arriving in Washington D.C.  all week!  And there are most likely more than a half million of them!   Their parade from the Pentagon building to downtown Washington D.C.   took more than four hours of solid bikes,  four across the lane, to complete.   That’s a huge number!

Their patriotism:  majestic.   Their dedication to our country:  majestic.        The honor given to our military:  majestic.    Their sheer numbers – representing all of us who can’t make it to our nation’s capital this year:  majestic.     Their manifest love for our country:  majestic.    They  are honest, decent citizens,  living normal, honest, decent lives:  majestic.

We can all  be that eagle.    Humbly acknowledging a  great country that is worth defending.





May 4, 2016

….  and other May Timing.

(May the Fourth be with you;    and of course, a greeting like that from me would mean the Force that is that inexorable and constant force of Grace from your Creator,  calling us all back to Him, and to a life lived well, in His will, and with the help of His Grace.)

But I like Star Was too.

May is a month of many significant occurrences.    Let’s see if I can do them in order.

May First is the day Christendom remembers St. Joseph,  the foster father of Jesus,  spouse of Mary, who watched over the Holy Family,  guiding them through danger  and   providing for them.   It is necessary for a (Jewish) father to train his sons in some skill so that they can make a living and in turn provide for their own families.

Hence, we can say that Jesus, too, was a carpenter,  as St. Joseph was.   (a  “technon”  in Greek:  a builder, a general contractor, perhaps, as well as carpentry skills.)   Joseph’s trade skills and his labors are part and parcel of his dignity.   Our work, our labors, our jobs,  give us pride and dignity.   ( If you have a job,  you are not being “oppressed.”)

And so on May First we honor the dignity of workers through the example of St. Joseph.  It is said of Joseph that he was a Just man.   Learn from him,  learn fatherly skills from him; learn to respect the man in your house,  the father of your children, the head of your household.

May the First is also the world’s celebration of  burdensome and murderous  forms of governments that oppress “Workers”   by using and ruling over the Working Class.  A celebration that is sometimes called “May Day,”   and ironic cry for help.

May 2nd is the day we celebrate the life of St. Athanasius,  who fought tirelessly for the Truth of Church teachings,   in spite of almost universal opposition, several exiles,  excommunications from weak Church leaders. . .  and still he persisted –for the sake of succeeding generations.

May 3rd we celebrate the Finding of the True Cross – an interesting event, but hardly recognized as significant in today’s busy, distracted, and skeptical  world. (and, no,  the Emperor Constantine was not quite a Christian at this time, and he did NOT force the Roman world to become Christian, nor did he change Church teachings by mixing them with pagan religions.  If you want to refute “history,”   start there.)

May the Fourth . . .  is fun.   But it is also deadly serious for me, personally.   Today is the day we remember St. Monica.    Mother of unceasing prayers and tears.   Mother of Augustine,  saint eventually.    For those of you who know me,  enough said.

Yes, each day in May has some significance.   The whole month is the Month of Mary.    Dedicated to her and her attractive attributes.     Last year I did a series of  flowers, one for each day for her,  each one exemplifying a lovely attribute of the Mother of Jesus.   When the series was over,  I discovered a month was not long enough.   If you’d like to be charmed by some loveliness,  you can check out the archives:  2015, May.

We have Mother’s Day this month.   I hope some sentimental tears are shed by sons and daughters.

There are several birthdays in my  immediate family.

May 13th will be the next really huge Remembrance.    It may have utmost significance for our world.   This year is the 99th anniversary of a strange and important visitation from Heavenly beings to the three children in Fatima, Portugal.   These “beings”  were St. Michael,  the head of the Armies of Heaven who fight against the enemies of God;  Mary,  herself, with most important information;  and then a glimpse of Jesus and of St. Joseph.

99 years ago.    Next year will be 100, a significant and common grouping of years marked out by humans to signify a discreet and identifiable period of time.    Instructions were given 99 years ago.  Prophecies were made.   Proofs were given, witnessed in the end by 70,000 people,  photographed, and not all in the immediate vicinity.   And then Warnings were given if instructions weren’t carried out, individually and by the Church.

As far as I can see, in these past 99 years,   few have heeded the Instructions . .  . and warnings.

So what comes next year when the 100-year period has ended?

Finally, and appropriately,  the month ends with Memorial Day, where we remember those who have died defending our country in times of War.  Most likely we will not be in a world war in this year’s May.

I hope this won’t be the last peacetime Memorial Day.

Just . . . plant some flowers and vegetables somewhere on your property.    It’s time for that here in the Far North.      Plant some Beauty and Joy and Peace and, above all:   Hope in God, that He is in charge of things.



May 25, 2015

Memorial Day is Decoration Day,  when we make a point to visit the graves of our loved ones, those who have died in the military.   This is a respectful and righteous thing to do.

decoration day

Stop reading here if you want to remain “innocently”  patriotic.

bar simnple graded gray lines

Every  soldier’s  death  in war diminishes our world, our nation, and our own lives in some way.  The older one gets,  the more one realizes how this is true.

Lately, in America,  from the Korean War onwards,   we have fought and our men have died without there being a formal declaration of war.   I don’t think that’s okay, but there it is.

Since this is the case, let’s look at another war that has been declared on us, and although there is not a duly constituted national government that has made that declaration,  it has been stated as a war by the enemy combatants – a war against the United States of America –– and we are fighting it every day and Americans are dying every day because of this officially “undeclared war” that we all hate to think about.

The other war – I’ll call it Jamiel’s War,  because he exemplifies the war action taken against us.    (Remember,  they want us dead and conquered.)

First let’s look at the enemy soldier:

Part of a Dream Family, officially so-called — a Dreamer —   These are the people brought over here illegally to prop up the votes for the liberal parties.   Quid pro quo:  we let you stay in this country and give you food and housing and medical care and “schooling”;  you vote for us.

So once there was this Dreamer “child” — . . . .

He became a gang member.  I get the colors mixed up so I’m not going to name names.

(1)   As a teenager he was arrested and convicted of some gun charge,  let back out on the streets.  (2)    A second time he was arrested for shooting someone, given a trial,   the victim testified that that’s the man who shot me, and this teenager agreed, in the courtroom.   Felony charge again — but his vote is valuable, remember.   Light sentence.

(3)   Third time he was arrested on a gun charge, put in jail for a few months and released back into the “community.”

On the day he was released,  he was on a mission.  A mission of obedience to his gang. This is the mission:   ON THE DAY YOU GET OUT OF JAIL GO KILL SOMEONE,  KILL THEM DEAD,  KILL PEOPLE DEAD.

Why?  Why so vicious?    Because the gang members know that some young men might be rehabilitated and leave the gang.  But if they kill on their first day out,  on their first opportunity,  then that deed locks them into a life of serious crime and only their fellow gang members can protect him.

So this is what this young man did.    Pedro Espinoza,  21 years old.   A last name which alludes to Christian hope.   A first name after St. Peter.

First day out of jail,  so he got a young woman he didn’t know to drive him around.   He saw his target, a 17-year-old, accosted him with a loaded gun,  had him put his hands up


But the  17-year-old did put his hands up and he did get shot – right in the stomach.  He fell backwards with his hands still “up”  and then he got shot in the hand – got two fingers blown off.   And then he got shot in the head, execution style.  The shooter drove away and returned to his gang headquarters, and proudly announced to them “I’m a killer.”

Now let’s turn to the young victim. 

I’d be proud to have him in my family.  Father at home, working to support his family, loving and attentive ;  grandmother nearby, loving and  attentive;    Mother in the Middle East, away from the family . . . .   The son’s name is Jamiel.   Jamiel,  Jr.

Jamiel is a junior in high school and is a football star.  Three times voted MVP.  Recruited early by such schools as Stanford and Rutgers.

He was told to be home at 7:00 that evening,   and he was,  he was on his way home.  His father called him to check up, and he was nearing home.   Then the father heard gunshots down the street.


Espinoza chose him for his target because he was out to kill Black guys.  That is,  his particular gang had an animus against all Blacks.

Why Blacks?      “Because White Americans stole land away from Mexico, and the Blacks benefited, so therefore Black people have to be killed.”

Of course this is senseless logic,  and it is by all definitions a hate crime based on race,   but it is carried out every day.   And the court system is so far from common sense and logic that much time was wasted on eyewitness impressions of the details of clothing:   all one color?  short sleeves,  long sleeves?    Those kinds of things.

And, oh, yes,   Jamiel was carrying a backpack.   It happened to be a certain color so the jury was told he was in a gang too.   Although that is not true,  our court system must allow the defense attorneys to  smear Jamiel in the eyes of the public.

So this is Jamiel’s War.  It was waged against him, it killed him,   it is being waged against us right now today.

It will not be over until we wage war back.   Declared or undeclared.

bar simnple graded gray lines


Where was Al Sharpton,  Eric Holder,  the Barack Hussein person in all this?   Where were all these usual  race baiters?

A Black man was murdered – by a  gun!    

The sent their delegates to check things out.   But then they found out that the father,  Jamiel Shaw,   was not an anti-gun person.  The grieving father told them that that gun did not kill his son;.   that Hispanic gang member did.   And then they realized Mr. Shaw did not choose to vote for liberal causes.


Nevertheless,   this is a formally undeclared war, a war to kill Americans because we “stole” land two centuries ago.  It’s a war against Blacks particularly.   La Raza and other associations who meet the Barack Hussein person to obtain concessions have stated these goals publicly.

Don’t we believe them?    What would it mean if we do?

We must understand that this is not merely a racial war.  This is a war against our nation, all of us.

One newspaper report of this incident:   click here
Photos of Jamiel, Jr.,    click here

An example of erroneous, perhaps hasty reporting here.  Giving the  wrong impression by insidious suggestion:     click here


May 24, 2015

By an interesting coincidence,  the poppy is a flower given to Our Lady on this 24th day of May.

There is a spiritual quality that is associated with the poppy,  but I think on this Memorial Day weekend,  it’s good to look at a   distantly related association with the poppy,  one you may be familiar with.    (After all,  American school children used to memorize and recite this poem in school — in honor of those who died for us.)



May 28, 2014

Here’s a riddle:    “When is a parking lot a park?”     (Okay, I’m not a professional riddle-maker.)   The answer is –  “When it’s a parking lot in one of America’s small towns.”

SAMSUNGMy little blue car is there, behind the big car.   I drove “to town” to pay my insurance bill, and as I returned to the car, it occurred to me what a lovely and pleasant experience I was having.    Even the parking lot looks more like a park than a “lot” for parking, although my little camera hardly captured the greenness, the  serenity, the fragrant air full of spring blossoms.

I pay for my insurance here twice a year.   Astonishingly,  the lady who takes my money remembered me from last May and that I was soon to be on my way on a road trip to California.   She asked me how the trip was and, as she got my receipt ready,  made small talk that was personal and genuinely interested.

SAMSUNGNothing special about our little town.      I’m just hoping it’s like tens of thousands of other little towns in our whole nation.      It’s where many hundreds of thousands of our soldiers and sailors came from, and it’s what they had in mind when they sung songs to “the girl I left back home.”    In their minds,  ordinary, normal, unknown, non-famous American people are who our Veterans were fighting for – and we are the ones who give them grateful honor and praise for their success  on Memorial Day – and especially the ones who didn’t make it back home to us.

Now of course,  “the girl back home”  or “hot dogs, apple pie, and mom”  lived in both small towns and cities.   My formative years were spent in Chicago, and it remains in my memory the loveliest, most beautiful and interesting city in the country!

Chicago even has a “river” running through it:


Not like this one behind my insurance office, though.

But no matter where you lived,  the American culture was in harmony with American people from both small towns and cities.     It was something you could define and something you could count on.    It was something immigrants dearly wanted to become part of.    (Oh, yes —  “we’re all immigrants here.” )   And it was something worth defending and perpetuating.

SAMSUNGI thought about this attitude —  “happy to be here in America” — and taking pride in living here,  and so I walked away from the car, leaving the door unlocked, and went down by the river which this little town had made a part of their “scene” so that people here could experience the natural beauty.


I got on the walkway.      This landscaping took effort and planning —  and civic pride.    It took an awareness of the goodness the town has all around them.

I’m quite sure that you have things like this around you too.    Good people.   Good values.   Good hard work.

The disruptive thoughts are within us,  they sometimes come from the noisy media,   but I think they can be overcome.     It wasn’t Memorial Day which was disruptive to the urgencies of our daily schedules.    I think it was Memorial Day which is normal.

SAMSUNGTo truly celebrate Memorial Day is to truly appreciate what we have here in our “home towns.”

I took a little more time to enjoy the walkways. that were built for us.    To experience it, to get to know this part of town,  to get to recognize a genuine good thing.    And that’s the key.   If we hold on to the genuine good, we will recognize when someone comes along to tell us their way is “better”  because it is “different,”     or their political creed is superior to the one our Founding Fathers gave us.

To truly celebrate Memorial Day, we need to know just what it was our soldiers and sailors fought to preserve.


U.S.S. UTAH – Remembering

May 25, 2014

One family’s Memorial Day:

A photo taken from the forward deck of the U.S.S.  Utah  –  (1918)


Perhaps it was the Viking in my Grandpa’s heritage that made him choose the Navy.   That water rolling over the deck stirs the blood!


My Grandpa was off to fight The War to End All Wars.   The Great War.   The War to Turn Back the Huns – who marched towards world domination and threatened the freedom of citizens in Europe.      Woodrow Wilson was elected on the promise that he would keep America out of the war – did you know that? –  and Americans believed him.   But he was a world socialist at heart,  a believer in one-world government,  and so we all – collectively –  fought for that particular common good.   I’m not angry about that war.    Those issues belong to my grandparents and great-grandparents.


All I know is that my Grandpa thought he was doing a good thing, and so he became part of the crew assigned to the U.S.S. Utah.   In these pictures he was on his way to France to supply the battleships.   He had some “duty time”  in Paris, that I’m sorry I never thought to ask him about.   Instead, I asked him  what he and his friends did on the ship.   He told me he spent most of his time on board below decks –  a waste of far-seeing blue Viking eyes, in my opinion.   He worked with dangerous and dirty machines in the dark, but the real danger came from the German boats that had the U.S.S. Utah in their sights at times.


These are  some of his friends.   I can’t decide if my Grandpa is in this picture.

Why did they go?  They were protecting their families back home.


And I think they truly were.   Dictatorships had arisen.   Was it worth it to fight against Napoleon?     Was it worth it to fight the Franco-Prussian war and prevent a German/Austrian takeover of Europe?   Was it worth it to fight against the ambitions of Hitler?     My Grandpa and his friends would have thought so.


Life was waiting for them back home – if they made it back home.   The girlfriend was waiting for him.   Good, pure, moral, loyal, and capable of running their future home and raising their future children.    Together,  they made it through many serious difficulties and dangers, but they worked hard and became a family

And when that happened,  then many years later,  my Grandpa could tell me some things about those days of war.



My Grandpa and many others made it home safely.   The U.S.S. Utah was safe for a while.  And then it was sunk – at Pearl Harbor – at the beginning of another war.

So, this is one family,  one person at least,  remembering the dangers and sacrifices the men of our military made to keep us free and to give us a life we call “normal.”



May 23, 2014

What could make us prouder?

Rolling 1


Good people.   Good veterans.   Good families.   Good pa*  tri*  ots.   Good feelings.   Good music.  Good reasons . . . .

Rolling 2

I’d like to recommend to all of you that you check out Rolling Thunder 2014.       It’s the annual gathering of bikers at Washington D.C. during the Memorial Day weekend.     There is strength in numbers.   And affirmation and comradeship and courage and confirmation in numbers.    And there is “voice” in numbers.   Hear them.

They’re coming.  They’re on their way.

Rolling 3

Rolling Thunder began as a tribute to those who fought in Viet Nam, but who never came home.  Our brothers, husbands, and sons had been killed,  imprisoned, or just “lost.”   KIA’s and MIA’s  and POW’s – and much of the attention of Americans back then was being distracted and misdirected and propagandized away from our military.     Rolling Thunder began in order to keep our attention on the Viet Nam veterans and, now,  on all those whom we honor on Memorial Day and to whom we owe so much.

I don’t have a bike and  I don’t plan to go to Washington and  just about everyone I’ve talked to seems to be unaware of these people.       But I’d like us all to be the kind of citizens that Rolling Thunder is counting on us to be.


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