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SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN: The Will to Live

11/30/2019

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A patient receives a new heart and with it the chance to live where death was almost certain.
As I thought about what to use for my message on this first Sunday in Advent, the event that I mentioned on my Facebook Author Page Friday concerning an amazing man I met by happenstance came to mind.  For those of you who don't read any of my Facebook posts, the man's name is  Al, he is in his middle age and was diagnosed with acute heart failure which would soon take his life.  He wanted to try with all he had to live, was listed on the heart transplant need registry and after two long years of waiting, received a match and had surgery not much more than a year ago at the University of Florida's Shands Hospital.  When I met him Friday morning at the business where I hoped to resolve my car's electrical problem that almost sidelined us Thanksgiving afternoon, his story struck home to me about the power of the will to live and what it tells me about we Christians and our faith.

Al had been a master automotive mechanic for over thirty years when he faced the ultimatum of risky surgery or death.  It would mean a major change in his life and would even require relocation due to the long-term needs of follow on care.  He decided to go for it as he didn't want to die, at least not now.  So, he medically retired from his job with a South Florida automobile dealership and underwent the exhaustive process of a heart transplant. Once all the testing and evaluation was completed he underwent the surgery which was declared a success and slowly recovered sufficiently to begin really living, although at a different pace.  When I met him Friday he was only two months past his first anniversary, a key milestone in measuring full acceptance of the new heart by his body and he was working again, but at a reduced level of physical exertion.  We talked about his ordeal and I asked him how tough it had been.  His response was amazing.

He said, "Yes, there was significant pain but the pain told me I was still alive and it gave me the push to follow the guidance I was given.  Now, at least I can go out and see the birds, trees and all things in nature and work again.  My breathing is so much easier, my energy is back and I can deal with the less complex functions of my job.  It was worth it for I wasn't ready to meet my Maker yet."

I thought about Al on my way home and felt guilty that I had been perturbed by the minor inconvenience I had been through with a car problem. But I also thought of something so much more important, for the situation faced by Al is one we will all face, just not necessarily with the advance notice that he had.  What's more, when life as we know it on earth ends, we don't have to die.  We can be born again by accepting the gift of Eternal Life that Jesus Christ offers us if only we believe. Yes, it takes some work and effort and it means for most of us a change of lifestyle and thought. But, like the story of Al's life on earth, our story of life after this earthly one offers life everlasting in a new life, a new life and without pain, suffering or any negative issues.  The question for each of us is simple. Do I want to live forever and am I willing to accept the Savior as my Redeemer with God and live as He asks us to do?  Each of us must answer that questions for ourselves and the answer will determine our fate.  God bless you all and have a blessed Lord's Day on this First Sunday of Advent. 
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IN MEMORY OF MY DAD, A GOOD FATHER AND A GREAT PROVIDER

11/30/2019

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My Dad as he looked in the late 1920's
November thirtieth has always been a very sad day for me for it marks the first time that I remember someone so special to me dying unexpectedly. Sixty-three years ago on this day in 1956 my dad died.  I was nine years old, he was my hero and I was crushed.  From disbelief followed tears, then a time of feeling remorse, then anger and finally acceptance, but through it all came memories of those wonderful days of youth when he was here with me and loved me and my siblings and, of course, my mother in a way that could only be described as devotion to family.

Dad had been sickly as a child but fought it hard and overcame it, deciding at the early age of eight, around 1912, while cleaning a doctor's office after school that he, too, would one day be a doctor.  That doctor had an Oldsmobile, the fanciest car of the day, and Dad decided that when he was grown he would own one, too.  So, he worked hard in school, then worked for four years at Newport News Shipbuilding to earn college money,  graduated from college at then Wake Forest College in pre-med, successfully completed studies in medicine at the Medical College of Virginia, before going on to complete his internship as an ear, nose, throat and eye doctor at Bellevue Hospital in New York City under the auspices of New York University and the Newark Eye Institute.  He met my mom who was a studying to be a Registered Nurse at Bellevue, they fell in love and, a few years later he brought his bride back to Newport News where he worked for another doctor for two years and then opened his own practice.  He practiced medicine until his timely death and yes, the only care I ever remember that Dad drove was an Oldsmobile. The last one, purchased in 1954 was a new Ninety-eight, black in color with dark red interior and a back seat that felt like a sofa.

My two siblings and I came along in the 1940's with me, the youngest, arriving in 1947.  In those short nine years I had with him I can remember those special times we had at Nags Head on the beach, wonderful visits to the amusement Park at Buckroe Beach on the Chesapeake Bay, playing catch with a baseball and especially the joy he had for special days like Christmas, Thanksgiving and even Halloween.  I even remember fondly now, not so much then, when he would come home and find me with a sore throat and proceeded to tell me to sit still while he painted it with silver nitrate. Yuck.  But the pain in swallowing was gone in moments and I could then go my merry way with no worry.  But Dad having the same joy at watching us be children and playing along is what I remember most.  You see, Dad never had time to be a child. He was always working and he threw his life into it, so when he finally "made it" he lived his childhood through his children.  He loved to wear masks at Halloween and decorate the outdoor evergreen in lights for Christmas.  He even made a great Santa and I'm told that when he was at Bellevue he would be the Santa for the children's ward.  The only thing that gave him away was his Virginia accent, likely mixed with a slight Scottish brogue which he learned from his father.

There is so much more I could say to share the joy that he brought to a little boy's life but I won't bore you.  But to you, Dad, you've always been in my heart and on this day, I will always remember those wonderful days that you gave us which came to a sudden close much too soon, sixty-three years ago today.  And Dad, I look forward to the day when I will reunite with you and Mom when my time here is also up.  It will be the reunion to end reunions because we will all be together, parents and children, again in a place of no pain, suffering or worry.  What a grand time it will be.

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Why We Celebrate Thanksgiving Day

11/27/2019

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General Washington prays to Divine Providence in the Valley Forge snow.
Today we celebrate Thanksgiving Day, a day which originated as a special day to thank God for the many gifts He gave us as Americans. The first Thanksgiving by tradition has been claimed to be with the Massachusetts Colony following hardships and surviving with the grace of God. As a Virginian, I celebrate its beginning with the Jamestown Colony, founded before Massachusetts and like, their north Colonial brethren, have a similar story about the land on the banks of the River James a number of years previous to the Massachusetts experience, but that isn’t really what’s important.  Oh, both groups of settlers were aided by local Indians in surviving those early harsh winters, but they knew that the ultimate reason for their survival was due to the guidance of Divine Providence, God, from above. In the ensuing years as the colonies grew and prospered, their will for freedom from taxation without representation by the oppressive Crown led them to initiate the push for independence and a bloody war ensued. Again with the guiding hand of God, they survived against the preeminent military of the world at that time and gained independence, yet even then there were problems in formulating a government that would show the world that reasoned men and freedom could join together in the greatest experiment in self-governance in the world, the United States of America. It was with this in mind that the first President, George Washington, the Commander of the successful Continental Army against the British, penned and presented a Declaration of Thanksgiving with the approval of Congress as well.  While the official national holiday didn’t become official until it was directed by President Abraham Lincoln, it became a tradition toward the end of the harvest season as a way of thanking God for the bounty he provided.  Like the Declaration of Independence earlier, it made it clear that this new nation, this United States of America was a Nation of God and was always indebted to his love and grace for making this land possible. We should all read and ponder the following words of Washington, words which were eloquent and clear in their message.  God bless the United States of America on this Thanksgiving Day and may she ever be free. 

Issued by President George Washington, at the request of Congress, on October 3, 1789

By the President of the United States of America, a Proclamation.

Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and—Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me “to recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness:”

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favor, able interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted; for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations, and beseech Him to pardon our national and other trangressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shown kindness to us), and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally, to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as He alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand at the City of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.

Go. Washington


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THANKSGIVING MEMORIES: Those Days Leading Up to Thanksgiving

11/26/2019

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Stay out of my kitchen were Mom's warning words.
Remember those last few days before Thanksgiving as a young child?  It was a time in life when you were footloose and fancy free of responsibility excepting your schoolwork and some assigned chores? You didn't have to pay rent or buy your own food and life was a big bowl of cherries.  As Thanksgiving drew near, every time you walked into the kitchen your mouth would water with all of the good things to eat being assembled while the turkey finished thawing.  And Mom would order you out, telling you not to touch or nibble on anything you might find that was out.  I do believe she had a memorized inventory of everything on the counter and immediately knew if anything had been touched or moved.

By the Tuesday before Thanksgiving we were anxious for the next two days to end since our Thanksgiving Day holiday was a four day weekend.  Attending Wilson Elementary, I could see my house from the classroom since the only thing between the school and the house was a street and a big vacant lot with a pathway through it for neighborhood students. I wondered what Mom was fixing and how the kitchen would smell and when school was out, I found out.  She was baking all the goodies to go with dinner and my appetite immediately appeared, but I was told to go out with friends and play football, then she might give me a sample.  Two hours later, coming home with grass stains and dirty hands, she directed me to bathe first. Complying, I returned to have one of her special Thanksgiving sugar cookies awaiting me, large and tasty, then it was off to homework followed by dinner.  Seeing all the workings for Thursday made dinner seem like we were paupers but we knew that was all part of Mom's plan to get us good and ready for the feast.

Wednesday morning, up early to read the paper, I turned to see the hype for the big game the next day. With my big sister a high school student, I started following the Typhoon, our sports teams at Newport News High and the Thanksgiving Day game was a classic. The opponent, the Hampton Crabbers, our next door neighbor arch rivals and a team that had quite the record in high school football, beat us much more often than they lost.  Yet the game, which had been played on Thanksgiving since 1947 and, before that, an annual event since 1903, built spirit and tradition and therefore Old Newport pulled the surprise on quite a few occasions.  The local sports page in the Daily Press did an excellent job of covering high school sports and in the case of this game, attended by as many as ten thousand sports fans, it got the limelight of that day.  We even discussed it at school and the teacher allowed it, knowing how important it was to everyone in the old city.  The anxiety was building.

Back home after school, the house was overcome with the aroma of Thanksgiving, yet Mom served us soup and sandwiches with a twinkle in her eye as she saw us keeping an eye on what was underway in the background.  And then, on the morning of Thanksgiving, she gave us oatmeal before we all hopped in the car to go to the special Thanksgiving morning service at our downtown church, First Presbyterian. Driving on the bridge to enter downtown over multiple tracks of the C&O Railway leading into the Port of Newport News, we could see Saunders Stadium, home of the Typhoon, with the blue and gold streamers being attached to the goal post. I must admit that it was hard to pay attention to the sermon and get the always superb message from Dr. Buckles since the game and dinner was on our mind but he knew and understood. He smiled at me on the way out of the church and asked if I was going to the Newport News game and I just smiled with a big shake of yes with my head, garnering a big smile and a tousling of my hair on the way out.

At home, it was a quick sandwich a change of clothes, dressing warmly when it was cold, and off we went to the game, except for Mom. She said this was the time that she could get things done and ready, then she would sit down, relax and listen to the game on the radio like just about everyone in Old Newport News would do back in those days. Dad, also a graduate of Newport News, would take us all and my sister would go and sit with her friends in the student section. My brother and I and Dad sat in a good spot, he always got his tickets early and he adorned his fedora with blue and gold ribbon to cover the hat band. He had played football back in his day (Class of 1922) at the school and was like a big kid for the game.

Coming home was either joyous or sad, but once we walked into the house, all concerns dropped as we looked at the gorgeous dining room table with Mom's finest linen and a fall assortment of flowers courtesy of Dad's surprise delivery, and we prepared for a great meal. One I especially remember was when my Uncle Burr, an active Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer had liberty in port and he spent Thanksgiving with us and that was super special.  So, how was the feast?  Well, this blog was about the lead up and that is for another time but I can tell you this much.  As I sit here right now thinking about those glorious times, I'm getting quite the yearning for a turkey dinner with all the trimmings and I just hope I can wait until Thursday.  I guess that means I haven't changed much, doesn't it?  How about you?
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PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES: Travel Blessings for Thanksgiving Day

11/25/2019

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Plains, Trains and Automobiles. One hilarious Thanksgiving movie. Sorry John Candy is no longer with us.
Without a doubt, I am sure everyone remembers this hilarious movie about two people who didn't know one another who ended up together and finding themselves in quite the predicament as they attempted to make their way home for Thanksgiving.   John Candy played quite the part as a relaxed, laid back roaming fellow in search of that one big sale while Steve Martin, as the straight man, was superlative in his part.  I still watch repeats of this movie at Thanksgiving time each year and it reminds me of my many adventures as a young man trying to get home for that long weekend on many occasions.  I never had the disasters that they did but I did once find myself stranded at O'Hare in a blizzard while trying to get home on the twenty-third of December.  I made it, but ended up spending Christmas Eve in bed, exhausted with a touch of the flu.

Now that I'm in the early stage of what I have to admit is being old, I don't like to travel very much anymore, especially over busy holidays.  Maybe it's partly due to arthritis, but more in reality it is the exhaustion that always comes with the hassle of traffic, airports and not-so-efficient Amtrak trains these days, long waits and delays, and then when I get where I'm going there's too much going on in a short period of time that the old stamina starts to wane.  And as Perry Como used to sing, "There's no place like home for the holidays."  For me, after being in Florida for nearly twenty-five years, it is now home.  Plus the cool weather doesn't normally get too icy and I notice that over time I don't really like the cold anymore.  Then, of course, there are the grown children who in our nuclear environment and busy schedules have other things to do on a short weekend holiday, so a phone call is sufficient.  Not complaining, mind you, just stating the way things are and it's the way they are meant to be in such an age and I am so thankful they are not living in the basement that I don't even have.

But for those of you who will be traveling this week for Thanksgiving, I offer these travel blessings:

Dear Lord, We thank you for inspiring earlier Americans to establish this wonderful American holiday and we ask that you guide and direct those traveling to visit friends and family for the occasion. We praise you for your love and grace and know that you are always there to guide us and advise us on how to do the things we do as you would desire, travel being one of them. So, may all drivers be calm and courteous and follow your wishes for how to live and treat others kindly, may all impatience be tempered by common sense, may airlines pilots, bus drivers and railroad engineers be endowed with your love and guidance to fulfill their tasks safely and carefully, and may all travelers reach their destinations and have a wonderful time and reflect the importance of this day and your place in the celebration. Then may they return safely, knowing that you have blessed them so greatly by allowing them to be citizens of the greatest nation on earth.  We ask you also, oh Lord, to inspire them to pass on the reason for this holiday among their family and friends, especially the young family members who need to know our background so that they will understand why we are who we are and what we believe, and that includes standing for One Nation Under God. Thank you, Lord. Amen.
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SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN: Do We Remain a Nation Under God?

11/24/2019

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God is the reason for all things, including America's prosperity.
Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God.
                                                                         - Romans 13:1 (NLT)


As the United States of America nears another Thanksgiving Day, I think it is important that we remember the purpose of the founding of the holiday and the importance given by it to Almighty Providence. No, the principal purpose, as secularists would suggest, is not to remember the Indians who helped some of the early colonists avoid starvation. While their help was undoubtedly appreciated, the holiday was established to thank God for making the creation of the nation, the land of the free and the home of the brave, possible. Had Divine Providence looked the other way, the heavily favored British would have won the war and the colonial army would have been decimated as well as the band of founders who were brave enough to speak out against tyranny.  On Thanksgiving Day, I will provide written evidence of what the founders knew and believed as expressed our first President, George Washington, in his first Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1789.  I hope you will read it for it is truly an inspiring statement of why we celebrate this holiday.

Regarding the creation of a government that we are told is not supposed to recognize God according to so many today, the passage from Paul tells us that while man must follow the rules of government, that government is clearly subservient to God who placed its leaders in positions of power. Do you think God would have appointed anyone who he thought would not live in His image as we are all expected to do? And since man has free will, a mortal leader can fall short in his duties and not follow his expectations. In such cases, we don't know how it gets resolved, but in His own way and time, God either changes him or the situation.   Now that doesn't mean that all countrymen must believe in God, as a matter of fact our Constitution makes it clear that they are free to choose on their own, but it does mean that for earthly law to be valid according to God's law, the laws we create should be inclusive of what he wants from us. We don't have to believe in them, but we are expected to follow their guidance since, as the Ten Commandments clearly show, the rules are necessary if we want to avoid conflict, chaos and anarchy in a just society. When they aren't just as He expects, as was the case with the English in dealing with the American colonies, the seeds of opposition will be sown and rise in strength.

Today, mankind may scoff at the idea of God being involved in their lives and they are free to do so. Yet they are not free to dictate to others that God doesn't exist or have a valid purpose for believers. We must remember that believers have as much right to believe as they do as those who disagree can believe as they wish.  Freedom of religion works in both directions. It means that no one is required to follow a certain religion, but also that believers have their God-given rights to believe as they do.  And anything labeling itself  as a religion that foments physical harm to others is not acceptable under the laws that were created with the guidance of God.  We can doubt all we want about the foundation of the nation and the relationship of God to that event, but no one can deny the words of the Declaration of Independence, the document that granted the beginning of the dangerous push from freedom from the Crown, or Washington's eloquent statement of why we needed to have thanksgiving in our hearts. Accordingly, churches and synagogues all over the land will have services on this very subject this week coming up, for the members know that without God, we wouldn't even be what we are today.  Now that's  something to praise the Lord for and get excited about.

Dear Lord,  We thank you and praise you for granting this country to bounty and freedom that she has and help us to keep the Spirit of Thanksgiving alive and directed toward you in all that we do while we live on this earth.   Amen.

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OF BIG DOGS, LITTLE BOYS AND TRIPS TO NAGS HEAD

11/22/2019

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Portrain with Laddie Boy at age 3, first sketched on Nags Head beach.
Some of my earliest memories about my early summers at Nags Head included Laddie Boy, our family Collie shepherd.  Laddie is that big dog with me in the portrait that was sketched on the Nags Head beach in 1950 before the portrait which is hanging on my office was painted.  Now, Laddie was technically my sister’s dog, but he also was my safety patrol companion as a young child and Mom never had to worry about my whereabouts.  If I tried to go too far, Laddie would grab me by the seat of the britches and coax me back home. I quickly knew that he meant business and he always got a treat from Mom when he had done his job.

A trip to Nags Head was a challenge for we three kids sharing the back seat with this big, energetic dog and I know it was worse for my older sister and brother who needed more room. If I was relegated to the floor, which was not unusual, I made do but then Laddie would nudge them to the floor as well and we just couldn’t fit like that.  Invariably, Mom got involved as Dad told her to take care of it so that he could safely drive. On one occasion, Laddie wouldn’t move and Mom told Dad to find a place to pull over so she could open the back door and get things arranged better.  This was in the very early days of the 1950’s and there weren’t many places to pull off on US 17 for we were going through the Dismal Swamp, north of the Carolina line. The road was narrow and nearly empty that evening and things were pitch black.  Suddenly, Mom saw some bright lights and told him to turn into the service station we were approaching on the left. She thought she found the solution.

Dad protested that there was no service station along the stretch of highway, but to no avail with Mom who was now upset with Laddie, we children and even Dad.  As he slowed, suddenly he realized the service station was moving and it wasn’t a service station at all but a big rig truck heading north. Mom apologized, Dad accepted it but did comment that he should have known better and thereon the silence was deafening. What’s more, the sudden realization that we almost turned into a truck roaring by by got to me and this little boy had to pee.  Finally, Dad found one of the small picnic table areas along the highway and I needed to pee. I ran to the edge of the grassy area and took care of my problem with a sigh. Mom got the backseat and Laddie rearranged and as I prepared to go back to the car, Dad just casually said that he was glad we didn’t run into a black bear. My eyes opened wide, he laughed and said he was teasing but also said  that I shouldn’t tell my mother about it.

It remained eerily quiet in the car most of the remainder of the trip, but when we arrived and let Laddie run free for a few minutes, Dad turned to Mom, took her in his arms and said, “I love you.”  Things were then back to normal again.  Now this situation was just a little thing, but it’s funny how the little things just come back to you later.  I guess it’s all because of the memories that having a loving Mom and Dad in your life bring to back to life. I am very fortunate to have such fond memories and many of them are part of my book, “Summers at Old Nags Head.”
 


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THANKSGIVING MEMORIES: It Was a Great Bonfire, but Then .....

11/21/2019

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Not the bonfire of the story, but somewhat similar
The fall of 1964 was an exciting time in my life.  I was a senior at Newport News High School, was elected the previous spring as Vice President of student government in a tight election and all of my applications for college admission were filed, anxious to find out if I would be accepted by all three schools. If so, I knew it would be a tough choice to make but I had my favorite picked out.  As Thanksgiving approached, our student government embarked on a plan to have a special pre-game rally for the traditional Thanksgiving rivalry football game.  We wanted to have a pep rally bonfire the evening before the game and I was tasked with getting approval for the plan so that it could be carried out. I decided to start the process by contacting the fire department to find out what was entailed, staring with the headquarters of the Fire Department. I told them what I was looking to do and they connected me with the Fire Marshal.  We scheduled an appointment and the following week I went to his office with all the particulars.  It was now late October so I knew things had to start happening fast to be successful and I wasn’t going to allow myself to come up short so I was ready.
 
The Fire Marshal was very helpful. He asked if I had a location and I said Anderson Park and he nodded approvingly. He explained since it was city property, he could approve it himself subject to concurrence by the Parks and Recreation Department.  He asked if I knew Mr. Knight, the long-time parks supervisor who had to sign off.  I told him we all knew Mr. Knight since all kids growing up in Newport News saw him routinely at school athletic fields and any thing related to youth sports. He provided the necessary form, told me to get it signed off by Mr. Knight and when returned, he’d get things in motion. He would explain all the details at that time. Mr. Knight was great, he remembered me from summer time sports activities at Wilson School and said if there were any concerns or problems to let him know. His last word was to keep the permit available on the night of the fire and to call the police and let them know of our plans as they normally kept a roving patrol nearby just in case someone got out of line.
 
When the approval was granted by the Fire Marshal, he gave me a do’s and don’ts handout with instructions to follow it carefully. It explained what types of material could be used and how to start the fire in detail.  The night of the fire, he would meet me no later than six in the evening at the park with the fire scheduled to be lit at seven.  He also said to contact him on the day of the fire between noon and two in the afternoon so that if weather was not going to be favorable, we could cancel it at school. Light misty rain was okay, but wind could not be higher than eight miles per hour, so we would keep our fingers crossed over the next two weeks.  Fortunately, after lots of rain the first week, there was no more rain up until bonfire day. It looked like it would be a go.
 
During the ensuing period, we were busy acquiring wood and, fortunately, it was provided at no charge.  And older man who owned a tree removal service was a graduate of the school and offered lots of limbs and such as a contribution.  My next-door neighbor, Mr. Fowler, owner of Waterfront Lumber Company in Newport News, provide a truck load of untreated, but unneeded old lumber sections, delivered right to the site on the afternoon of the event. And the weather was good, almost still and cool and sunny, perfect for the event. We were excused from school to get the wood set and in place so that it would be ready to light that evening.  I remember going home for an early dinner and then returning before six, a Deputy Fire Marshal dropped by right at six on the nose and approved of the way we were set up and said we were ready to go.  Engineering tape was placed around the fire, attached to long wooden stakes marking the closest for anyone to come to the fire. He said it was okay to keep things going up to eleven and that the fire needed a full hour thereafter to burn down to smoldering cinders. At midnight a pumper truck would come by to finish extinguishing any fire left.  As he left, Mr. Knight came by and dropped off two large trash barrels, telling me to make sure all trash was placed in them. He said the department would pick them up in the morning. I can tell you that the way these city employees treated us back then would be a real treat in today’s world. They were all superlative. Just like clockwork, the pumper truck came by and dowsed the smoldering embers and group of us finished policing the area which was minimal since everyone in attendance self-policed themselves and by half past twelve we were on our way home, tired but happy.  The event was a good one and well attended, but that was to be expected, for our school’s opponents were the Hampton High School Crabbers, our arch rival from the neighboring city and the Turkey Day Classic had been going on for generations. My father even played against the Crabbers back in the early 1920’s and that game was a big deal then just like it was in 1964.
 
I had one nagging problem which I finally dealt with when I got home. In the process of building the bonfire I had gotten a splinter in my left thumb under the fingernail and couldn’t get it out. I was tired, however, and so I just went to bed.  In the morning it wasn’t bothering me, so I went about the Thanksgiving Day as usual, attending church in the morning, having a light lunch and then I was off to the big game.  It was a defensive struggle, probably rather boring for someone who wasn’t involved with the rivalry and as the final quarter started, there was still no score.  In that final quarter, however, the Crabbers scored and missed the extra point. Our boys gave it their all but to no avail, and we went home losers in a six to nothing game.  It was then, upon arrival home, that I began to feel pain in that left thumb and I noticed it was slightly swollen so I asked Mom, a former nurse who still kept her nursing bag stocked to look at it.  She thought that soaking it in Epsom salts might soften things up so she could get to the splinter but, no, it didn’t work. By midnight it was starting to throb and swell with redness and we went to the emergency room. Most of the long-standing attending physicians were, of course, off duty and only available for call back, so I was seen by an intern. He told me he could get the splinter out but it would hurt, but I was at this point ready to try anything, so I told him to go. I guess he was trying to relieve the pressure from the swelling as he inserted a needle under the cuticle and all I remember was excruciating pain before I blacked.  Mom thanked the intern and said she would get me to the doctor in the morning and we left.
 
Our home was only four blocks from Mary Immaculate Hospital where we had been seen and across the street was the office of doctor she knew, Dr. Greenspan. She called him at nine the next morning, Friday, and he told her to bring me to his office in an hour and he’d take care of things.  He was right on time and Mom apologized for calling him on a holiday weekend but he looked at me and said he would have done the same thing.  His nurse came in to help if needed and he checked out the situation and asked her to give me a local anesthetic. Five minutes later, he used surgical scissors to cut down into the nail and despite the anesthesia I yelled out in pain, using a couple of strong words that made him laugh but Mom, well, let’s just say she forgave me for she knew I was in pain. The infection literally exploded and the sever throbbing pain stopped almost immediately. The nurse dressed it, gave me instructions and asked if I needed a tetanus shot. Luckily, I had one only a year earlier so we were good to go home.
 
I remember when eating a leftover turkey sandwich with cranberry sauce that afternoon, Mom asked me a simple question. Simply put, she asked why I didn’t wear work gloves to handle the wood. I told her I guessed I was still just a dumb teenager and she just nodded yes and smiled. But she did make me pay her back for the medical treatment with a number of significant extra outdoor yard jobs that she wanted done.  I learned a good lesson that weekend and I handled all those chores, just happy to be free of pain. And guess what else? To this day I still have an indentation in the tip of that thumb that will always remind me of that large wooden splinter from hell.


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The final game of the football rivalry was playd on Thanksgiving Day, 1960. Newport News upset the heavily favored Crabbers (Photo courtesy The Daily Press)
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MILITARY OFFICERS: THEY DON'T MAKE POLICY, THEY CARRY OUT ORDERS

11/20/2019

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LTC VINDMAN: TO WHOM DOES HE GIVE HIS LOYALTY?
As a former military officer in the United States Army, I take great pride in my service and in our military forces and I support them in the way that I wanted to be supported when I was on active duty. Having said that, however, it doesn’t mean that military service members can’t be criticized for a questionable action they have taken.  And I also find it strange that the very people, the politicians who do such a lousy job of supporting those same military personnel, now using the uniform as a tool for their propaganda to say that no one wearing it can ever be challenged. I am referring, of course, to the current Impeachment fiasco and Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Vindman, a man who forgot one of the first rules that a good military man should know. Military officers are tasked with taking the orders they are given and carrying them out. If they have a ‘beef” about them, they use their chain of command and they certainly aren’t expected to directly challenge or spread bad will about their Commander-in-Chief, the President of the United States.
 
The foundation of the problem with Colonel Vindman is that he has an overinflated view of his importance in his job with the National Security Council and he also felt as if he was entitled to provide information on the Ukraine and  make proposals which, in his inflated self-view, meant that the President of the United States was wrong if he didn’t follow those points directly  Really? Now isn’t that interesting? An Army Lieutenant Colonel, detailed as a mid-level staffer on the National Security Council in the White House, took it upon himself to assume that his views should be the words the President should have used in dealing with Ukrainian officials.  Vindman is merely angry that his viewpoint was not one shared by the ultimate decision-maker, the President. He thinks he knows best and he said the President is wrong, even though it is the President who has to make the decisions and has the authority to do so, while Vindman is just, as we used to call them in my military days and pardon the expression, a “staff puke.”
 
I really wonder why the Army isn’t taking action against him for insubordination. In my day, someone taking his steps would be subject to a court martial, but then again, in my day we wouldn’t have found a President like our previous one, calling the cowardly Beau Bergdahl a hero and securing a release of him in return for returning five Islamic terrorists back to the battlefield.  I am of the opinion when all is said and done, Vindman will be found out as the “squealer” who started this whole ridiculous and unfounded impeachment process.  And remember, the squealer is the one who fed the so-called whistleblower his information. As for Vindman, maybe, just maybe he should take himself back to the Ukraine and accept the Defense Minister position with their government that he bragged he was offered. It sounds to me like his allegiance is more to the Ukraine under the old status quo than it is to the United States anyway.  That’s just my opinion and I’m sticking to it.
 


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Oh, The Perils of a Hastily Planned Thanksgiving Flight

11/19/2019

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It's always beautiful when you are up above the clouds.
A couple of years after moving to Florida in the mid-‘90’s, we decided at the last minute to travel to Virginia to visit family for the long Thanksgiving weekend.  We also decided not to drive, remembering the last holiday trip which left us exhausted on arrival after multiple extended “go nowhere” periods along the way. I did not have good memories of arriving back home from that trip, so stiff when I got out of the car that I didn’t think I could stand up straight for quite some time.  So, I checked on any last- minute travel deals with the airlines.  Living in Jacksonville at the time, getting from Florida to Norfolk on a big holiday was always a problem with the airlines. The large Navy community, active and retired in both cities, make holiday flights in extremely high demand and they fill up very quickly. It’s also one of the hazards of living in a large community that is not in an airline hub, resulting in lesser availability of flights than might otherwise be the case.

Finally, we opted for an early morning Thanksgiving Day flight. We would leave early and arrive in Norfolk in time to drive across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel to our destination on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, arriving in time for the late afternoon meal.  But we were surprised when we found out that our layover along the way turned out not to be Atlanta or Charlotte, but DETROIT instead.  That’s right, Detroit.  The change was necessitated by backlogs in the other cities and they assured me we would make it to Norfolk by two in the afternoon despite a rather lengthy layover.

The trip held true to expectations and we arrived right on schedule, quickly picked up a rental car and made it to our children’s grandmother’s house by half past four, just before the meal was served. It was a delicious meal, great company and we visited until Monday when we flew back to Jacksonville and that’s where the problems began.  We took off from Norfolk just before noon but as we flew over the clouds, the Captain announced that Wayne County Airport in Detroit was getting snow and we would be delayed on arrival. We circled the airport for nearly forty minutes before finally landing and with construction underway, movement along the corridors was slow.  As I looked at my watch approaching the Jacksonville gate counter, I realized we had missed our takeoff time but, checking in, a very cheerful lady at the counter said, no, we were okay for the departure of the flight had been delayed by the snow. It was then quarter to three, the old departure time would have been two-twenty and now nobody knew when the flight might depart. Told the earliest possible takeoff time would four thirty, we went to get something to eat in what was now a madhouse. We ended up sitting on the floor until eight o’clock when they announced the flight would begin boarding in half an hour.

As we sat down at last aboard our flight around nine, the line up of planes to take off was a long one. One runway was closed due to the snow and we finally were airborne at quarter to ten, arriving in Jacksonville just before the bewitching hour of midnight. We were the last flight in to Jacksonville and grabbed our bags and jumped the final shuttle to the parking lots. When all was said and done, we were home at half past one in the morning and I had to be at work at seven. Needless to say, the next day was a long one and I slept well the next night. I’m glad we went but I wouldn’t want to do it again like that and as I thought about the situation, it brought back memories of an even worse experience when I was traveling through Chicago on the day before Christmas Eve, but that’s a memory for another day. Life: we have to live with what we are dealt and deal with it or we’d never survive for long. And isn’t it a good thing that the mind remembers the good things and the less enjoyable ones become funny over time. Maybe that’s what helps us survive and thrive in our earthly adventure.

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Waiting and waiting and waiting. (courtesy AP/Richard Drew)
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