Remember; Be Angry

I choose to remember 9/11. Eight years ago this morning, on September 11, 2001, I was in the Pentagon. I was at Staff Call in an office on C Ring between Corridors 5 and 6. Shortly after sitting down, we were jarred as American Airlines Flight 77 slammed into the building. My friend who was with me swears that he heard jet engines accelerating before impact. Those I was with and I evacuated safely through the smoke, dust, and debris outside of our office door. I remember that several hundred feet from where I sat, Brigadier General Maude was in his E Ring office. He was being briefed by three Booze-Allen contractors. His office was very near the point of impact. All four occupants perished. I remember that two secretaries were taking a smoke break in the area between B and C ring. One had just flicked her Bic to light up when the right engine came crashing through C ring. Her first thought was that she had caused an explosion. Both she and her companion evacuated safely with a true story to tell the grandchildren. Remember. When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, President Roosevelt proclaimed it to be a day that would forever live in infamy. We were outraged as a nation, and, for the next four years, our battle cry in the Pacific was "Remember Pearl Harbor!" Black and white images of wreckage burning, and the tower of the Battleship Arizona silhouetted against a cloud of black smoke fueled our outrage and strengthened our national resolve to achieve victory. September 11, 2001 is no less than December 7, 1941 a day that will live forever in infamy. Yet one year afterward, images of the twin towers burning were deemed "too disturbing" to be shown on the evening news. Now, eight years later, our national resolve to triumph can barely be detected. Have we forgotten the images of our fellow citizens casting themselves from the towers rather than burn up inside? Have we forgotten our obligation to those who perished? Remember. Remember that these attacks were evil and be angry. Remember that on September 11, 2001 our nation was attacked without cause. Be angry that , unlike Pearl Harbor, these attacks were mostly directed not against our military but against innocent and unsuspecting civilians. Remember that on September 11, 2001 we were peaceful and secure. Be angry at those who took our peace and security from us. Be very angry at those who forced us now to live in perpetual distrust and wariness. Remember that the attacks of September 11, 2001 were evil acts perpetrated by evil men with evil intent. Be angry at the perpetrators and those who support them. Be resolved to defeat them and everything they stand for. Remember that we owe a solemn obligation to those who perished. Be angry at those who would reduce what should be a day of solemn remembrance and renewed resolution into a day of service similar to Earth Day or Arbor Day. Be angry and resolve to oppose those who continue to plan acts of evil against our nation and our freedom. Resolve to oppose them until your last breath. All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing. Remember 9/11. Be angry and maintain your anger. Resolve with me that evil will never be allowed to triumph.

Labor Day: It's About Work

My Dad always took a somewhat dim view of Labor Day. Falling at the peak of the tobacco harvest, Labor Day happens during the season of maximum effort in the fields and tobacco barns. Housing tobacco is not a task that can be easily accomplished by one person. Dad's view of Labor Day was made no brighter by the fact that on the day after all of his teen aged helpers would disappear into the bowels of the education system and become unavailable except for the hours between school and dark. Most of Dad's helpers, my friends, were also unavailable on Labor Day as they did things with their families who were not tobacco growers. I wanted to be like my friends. Dad's answer to my requests for Labor Day off was always the same. "Labor Day means it's a day extra hard labor." And, although we usually quit early so I could be ready for school the next morning, we spent most of the day working hard. Over the years, I have come to realize that Dad was right even if I'm still not sure that the best way to celebrate Labor day is by working. Labor Day should celebrate work. Labor -- work -- is required for human survival. And, whether we choose to admit it or not, labor -- work -- is also required for human fulfilment. If God created Man and placed him in the garden "to dress it and to keep it," then we are made to work. Scripture tells us that work did not become a burden until man sinned and, in punishment, God cursed the ground so that it would produce its fruit only as a result hard work. "By the sweat of your brow you shall eat your bread," He said. So this Labor Day, I choose to celebrate work -- the work I do and all of the honourable and productive work that other people do. Work: it's part of a full life. "This is the Gospel of labor. Peal forth, ye bells of the Kirk! For the Lord of Love Came down from above To live with men who work. And this is the seed that He planted, Here in this thorn-curs'd soil. Heaven is blessed with eternal rest; The blessing of life is toil." Have a great Labor Day. Celebrate work!

Working on the Lay-Away Plan

I have proudly achieved an age at which many of my contemporaries are either considering retirement or have already retired. Invariably, at any gathering of those in my peer group -- high school class, Army buddies -- I am asked "So, when do you plan to retire?" or "When did you retire?" People appear shocked to learn that I remain employed full time, and even more shocked to learn that I actually enjoy my work! You see, I am working on the lay-away plan -- I plan to work until they lay me away. Maybe, it's the vision of the wolf at the door. Maybe, enforced idleness for more than a day or two at a time doesn't fit me. Maybe, I'm just too old to know better. Or maybe (and I suspect this is the real reason) I have yet to decide what I really want to be when I grow up. Whatever the reason, God has given me the grace to do what I like, and to like what I am doing. During the past half century, I've been a farm hand, a machinist, a student, a soldier, a pilot, a parent and an engineer. I've grown things and made things and blown things up. I've designed new things and fitted things together to work in new ways. It's all been good, and I remain convinced that somewhere there is a really neat job that requires exactly my blend of knowledge, skill, ability, and personality. Finding that position gives life a lot of flavour. I may not always be doing what I do now, but I will always be doing something. Given my interests and past experiences, it will be a great adventure. Let the adventure continue!

First Things First

Growing up on a farm, I am acquainted with the laws of the farm. The first law states that there is a proper season for every activity whether it be planting, cultivating, harvesting or bringing to market; the second states that whatever you plant is exactly what you're going to harvest. I also became acquainted with the law of priority. Securing the necessities of life -- food, clothing, shelter and the means of earning them is the top priority. Comforts are the second priority. Once the necessities are secure, we can devote resources to obtaining some comforts in the form of better food, nicer clothing, more comfortable housing and maybe some entertainment. Luxuries come dead last, only after needs are met, and basic comforts provided. First, the necessities. Then the comforts. Finally the luxuries. These priorities have served me very well in providing for my family. For me, they are as invariant as seed time and harvest. Or are they? Lately, I see growing numbers of people securing comforts and luxuries before they have the necessities. And a great many of them seem to be making it work. Need shelter? Some agency will subsidise it for you. Need clothing? You will not be allowed to go naked. Someone will provide it. Need food? Food stamps! Run out of stamps? Creative dumpster diving or an emergency delivery by the local food bank. Apparently, one can eat quite well and even thrive on the dole. Priorities are for other people. Forget about the necessities and go for the large screen high definition TV! After all, life is all about the toys and priorities only apply to those who either voluntarily or involuntarily provide the resources to subsidise the lives of those whose first priority is to play. I'm disgusted. We're sowing irresponsibility. What do we hope to reap?

Just Do It!

I'm a Newton's second law kind of guy. I tend to remain at rest unless acted on by an unbalanced external force. No amount of training in Getting Things Done or other time and task management techniques will get me out of my chair until I am acted on by some force or impulse. This afternoon was a case in point. I needed to mow the lawn. I intended to mow the lawn. Mowing the lawn was on my weekend projects list. My next actions -- Get out of chair; Put on shoes -- were duly identified and recorded. Yet I spent over four hours planted in front of my computer making excuses and manfully resisting all urges to get up and simply mow the lawn. It looked like it might rain and I probably wouldn't have time to finish. It was hot. I needed to wait until it was cooler. And so forth. And so forth. It's not like mowing my lawn is a really big and onerous job requiring lots of time and physical stamina. It's not. My house sits on a 1/5 acre lot along with six trees and three flower beds. Mowing the lawn is generally a 40 to 50 minute job. Neither is my lawn thick and lush enough to require great physical effort to push the mower through a dense carpet of grass. In fact, were it not for broad-leaf weeds, I'd have no lawn at all. Indeed, some portions only need mowing to chop off seed pods that the weeds insist on growing taller than the surrounding area. And some portions didn't need mowing at all. Rather, it was a matter of Newtons' second law. My resting body wanted nothing more than to remain at rest. However, there is a limit to the amount of indolence that a person can endure and late this afternoon I reached that limit. It was either get up and move or perpetually assume the shape of the chair. So, I got up and moved, and it felt good. I put my shoes on, and that felt better. I opened the front door and the air was soft and sweet, and that was the best of all. Then, since I hate exercise without a purpose, and having a neat lawn is at least a purpose of sorts, I opened up the shed, got out the lawn mower, gassed it up, and pulled the rope. I was answered by a pop that grew into a satisfying purr, and before I realized what was happening, I was happily pushing the mower up and down the front and then the side and back yards, humming as I went. In 35 minutes, the lawn was mowed. As I knew in the back of my mind while I was putting it off, I did a great job and thoroughly enjoyed doing it. Sometimes the only way to overcome Newton's second law is to just do it. You'll be glad you did.

Truth at the End of a Long Handled Hoe

It's summer and school has been out for nearly a month. Our friends who have children and teens are looking hard for solutions to the seemingly constant complaint of "I'm bored." When our children were that age, I came to dread those two words as much as any others. "I'm bored." 

 I had the good fortune to grow up on a farm -- I was never allowed to be bored. When I was young, summers were for playing outdoors and, when I got bored with that, there was always the garden. 

 In the garden, there were always weeds. And weeds always needed to be pulled. It wasn't until years later that I realized that the places I was assigned to pull weeds from when I was a child were places where there was no danger that my childish enthusiasm for uprooting stuff would damage any of the plants we were trying to nurture! 

When I got older, I was given the responsibility -- today I consider it an honour -- of working with my Dad and Grand Dad to produce the crops that would sustain us through the coming winter and until next year's crop went to market. 

 However, at the age of eleven, working in the fields and tobacco barns was exactly what I didn't want to do with my summer. I recall protesting long and bitterly before grudgingly proceeding do what needed to be done. As a result, I learned a lot of truth at the end of a long handled hoe. 

I learned that being dusty won't kill you. 

Being hot won't kill you. 

Being bored won't kill you. 

 The work had to be done whether I wanted to do it or not and the work I did had to be done right. I soon learned that if I didn't do it right the first time, doing it over a second time was no easier than the first, and having to do it a over a third time was damn sure no easier than doing it the second. 

I think three times is my record for having to redo the same row, and I remember the day I set it. That day, I hoed one particular row of worm seed three times before my work would meet my father's minimum acceptable standard. It was almost sunset when I had finished my third trip down the row and Dad told me "You could have been home an hour ago if you'd done it right the first time." 

 The lesson stuck. I learned that complaints fall on deaf ears when your Daddy and your Grand Daddy are in the same field as you doing exactly the same thing you are. 

 I learned that there was a right way and a wrong way even to hoe weeds. And the right way actually requires less effort and gives better results than any other. Weeds between the rows were removed by cultivating with the tractor. Then, we hoed to remove the weeds from between the plants. When hoeing, the objective was not to chop the weeds from between the plants. Chopping took a lot of energy. Instead, the method is to either pull dirt over the weeds if they were small, or to disconnect them from their roots by sliding the blade of the hoe beneath them if they were not. 

 Doing it the right way, if conditions were right, I would get into a rhythm -- kerchunk, kerchunk, kerchunk down one row and kerchunk, kerchunk, kerchunk up the next. Hour after hour, day after day until the harvest. And I learned that when I was in rhythm, moving easily up and down the rows dispatching weeds from between the plants, only the smallest part of my mind needed to be engaged with the task at hand and the rest was free to travel as my imagination directed. 

 During those summers, moving up and down the rows, I authored short stories and novels and directed award-winning screen shows in the free part of my mind. I was present at the great events of history. I had conversations with great men. I performed incredible deeds of heroism. I envisioned my future and established in my imagination the dreams I would one day live. 

 Since that time, I have had the good fortune to live a great many of those dreams. I've even been allowed do some of the deeds of daring that I first envisioned while attached to the end of that hoe during those long past summers. 

 I was hot, bored, dusty, and not always willing but, during those summers in those fields at the end of that hoe, God gave me the grace to recognize truth.

Proclaim Liberty Througout the Land!

This year, I have the pleasure of celebrating Independence day in Philadelphia where, two hundred thirty-three years ago this weekend, fifty-six of the leading citizens of the thirteen english colonies pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to the idea of political independence from the mother country. Today, my wife and I walked to Independence Hall where those men met. We saw the Liberty Bell which symbolizes our ideals as a nation. The inscription on the bell enjoins us to "Proclaim Liberty throughout the land, and to all the people thereof." Proclaim Liberty! Proclaim the ideal that each person is free to choose and reap the rewards or suffer the consequences of his own actions. Proclaim Liberty! Proclaim the ideal that each person must stand or fall based upon his own industry or merit. Proclaim Liberty! Proclaim the ideal that government is the servant rather than the master of those governed. Prisoners are confined; slaves are subject to a master's wishes. Yet the same word is used to describe both the prisoner and the slave when they are both no longer confined, or in bondage; they are at liberty! As a nation, we pride ourselves on being neither prisoners nor slaves but at liberty. On this Independence day, join with me and my family and proclaim liberty throughout the land, and to all the people thereof. Proclaim Liberty!