For Us, the Living

It is for us the living

rather to be dedicated...

On November 19, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln spoke "a few appropriate words" at the dedication of the military cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. On that day, the ability of the United States to survive as one nation remained in doubt.

In his words, Lincoln spoke of dedication. He spoke of a new birth of freedom. And he expressed hope that this government "of the people, by the people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth."

The nation has engaged numerous wars since the days of Lincoln, each more terrible than the last. When war ended, we buried our dead and hastened the return of those who survived the battle to civilian life, not realizing that they are forever changed from what they were. Indistinguishable when they left, they came home different. 

They left as sons and daughters, husbands, wives, fathers, and mothers.  They returned as veterans. Some came back with bodies mangled by man's instruments of destruction, others with minds mangled by horrors they had seen, experienced, and survived. Most look and act much as they did when they left. But they remain different. They are veterans, formed in the crucible of service, forged in the fires of combat, and tempered by experience.. 

It is written that "You have never lived until you have almost died. To those who have fought for it, freedom has a flavor the protected will never know."

Veterans know the flavor of freedom, and its cost. Once, they offered their lives for it. Most would do it again.

This Veterans' Day, it falls to us to rededicate ourselves, that this nation might have a new birth in freedom so dearly purchased by those who bore the brunt of battle..  

We owe it to them.

How will we demonstrate that dedication?

How will we bring about the new birth?

Of Faith, Trust, and Honor

"I am an American Soldier...

I will never leave a fallen comrade..."

from "The Soldier's Creed"

A creed is a statement of faith, an authoritative statement of the chief things one believes. A creed sets forth what one believes in statements that are easy to recite and remember. The statements of a creed are compromised only with risk. Holding to a creed is a matter of faith, a matter of trust, and a matter of honor.

As a soldier, I hold to the soldiers' creed, which sets forth the following articles of faith:  

• I will always place the mission first
• I will never accept defeat
• I will never quit
• I will never leave a fallen comrade.

These statements are embedded in the blood and bones of those who have and continue to serve. They are the bedrock of our character.  

Those who have never served will neither consider nor understand the dedication required to live these four simple statements. Those who have, consider them minimum standards of acceptable behavior. 

Those who presume to command would do well to know and act in accord with these four simple statements. Credibility as a leader demands it. Regardless of other accomplishments, failure to act in accord with these statements marks one as an object of everlasting contempt.

As more becomes known of the details surrounding the attack on the American Consulate in Benghazi, Libya on September 11, 2012, of the murder of a US Ambassador and the deaths of three other Americans, it becomes increasingly apparent that the core statements of the Soldiers' Creed ring hollow in the higher echelons of the Department of Defense and the National Government.

To state that the murder of Americans "is not optimal" denigrates their sacrifice. To refer to the incident as "a bump in the road" shows callous disregard for those left behind. And to deny available support to those fighting for their very lives shows extreme cowardice in the face of the enemy.

Americans don't abandon Americans in combat or mortal danger. Americans go after and bring out their own.  

It's the right thing to do. 

To an American, such actions are an article of faith. 

They are a sacred trust. 

They are a matter of honor. 

It's how we live.

What core beliefs form your being?

How do you live because of them?

Useful New Word

I love words. My children will tell you that I am inveterate user of large words and player of word games. I come by it naturally. Both of my parents were readers who read to me and encouraged me to read.  They also made sure that I was provided with a more than ample supply of reading material.

When I was bored, I was told "Go get a book from the encyclopedia. Find something you like, read about it and come tell me what you read. Sometimes, rather than the encyclopedia, I would page through the dictionary. 

Thus began my love of language, of vocabulary, of words.

Over the years, I learned that English has the largest vocabulary -- the largest number of words -- of any language in the world. Therefore, I firmly believe that, in English, there must be exactly one word to precisely state any idea with all of the subtle nuances of meaning of which we Americans are so fond. My goal, sometimes reached, is to find and use those words.

Thus, I am pleased to announce the advent of a new word, perfect for describing the political process. According to Google, it was originally discovered on a T shirt on eBay. 

The word is "ineptocracy", defined as follows:

Ineptocracy (in-ep-toc'-ra-cy): (noun) a system of government where those least capable to lead are elected by those least capable of producing; and, where the members of society least likely to sustain themselves or succeed are rewarded with goods and services paid for by the confiscated wealth of a diminishing number of producers.

Finally, a word to precisely describe our current political situation!

I love this word and believe that it will become a recognized part of the US English language. As a student of language, I encourage you to use and make it a regular part of the ongoing political discourse.

Ineptocracy! A word whose time has come.

How will you slip this new word into polite conversation next week?

Autumn Comfort

When I find myself in time of trouble,

Mother Mary comes to me.

Bearing foods of comfort, 

Mac and cheese.

(Mac and cheese)

                                             (with apologies to John Lennon)

Autumn brings cool temperatures, short days, longer nights, and the urge to hibernate. With the change of seasons comes an appetite for foods that give the eater a feeling of warmth and well being.  We call these comfort foods. Most of these foods are high in carbs and calories, flavors and fat. There are no finer foods in the world.  

We all have our own comfort foods, most remembered fondly from childhood, foods like.  

Meatloaf and mashed pototoes (with lot of gravy!).

Pot roast with vegetables.

Hot dogs with mac and cheese, and its cousins beefaroni and chili mac.

Beef stew.

Tomato soup with grilled cheese or vegetable soup with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches..

Porcupine pie with tomato sauce.

For my wife, pasta and red sauce are essential ingredients. 

For me, all of the above leave me feel well fed, comfortable and ready to hibernate..

Ben Franklin once observed that "Wine is God's way of saying He loves us and wants us to be happy."

I now say that comfort food is God's way of saying He loves us and wants us to feel warm despite the chill of autumn.

So, what is your favorite comfort food?

When will you eat it next?

  

Memorial

The day after labor day in 1950, my mother took me to a place called school and left me in all alone in a room full of strange kids. Although I didn't know it at the time, I had just joined Damascus High School Class of 1963..  

We were a small class, numbering sixty-five or so on that day in 1950 and slightly less than seventy at graduation. Many, like me, were part of the class for the duration.  Others joined later. Some left early, but are still members.  And some even left for a while and came back. 

Somehow, over the course of those years, we became family. Like all families, we worked together, played together, laughed together, cried together, and even fought and scrapped with each other. And through those shared experiences, as much as through the academics we were taught, we were transformed from children to reasonably responsible and productive adult members of society.

During those years, bonds were formed that continue to this day. For most of us, those are bonds of mutual respect and friendship.  

Much water has passed over the dam in the forty-nine years since we proudly received our diplomas. Twelve of our classmates have passed and are no more. With their  passage, we are all diminished.  

Yet we remember.

We remember so many announcements calling for Paul to report to one or another of the administrative offices that it became fashionable to ask why the administrators did not report to Paul's office instead.

We remember Donnie storming out of 8th Grade English Class and sending himself to the principal's office.  

We remember Carl's little green sports car and perfect flat top haircut, Charles' wide smiles and "Cool List"', Anna's take-charge attitude and cackling laugh, and so much more.

These people were among our oldest friends and we miss them. We may go to them, but they can never return to us.

In the otherwise forgettable movie "The Long Voyage Home", John Wayne tells a young lady why he remembers the names of two men interred in lonely graves on a deserted island "The islanders have a belief that a person lives as long as his name is remembered. They were good men. They deserve that."

And so we choose remember our classmates.

Paul, 
Karen,
Carl,
Joy,
Charlie,
Carson,
Doris,
Russ,
Anna,
Donnie,
Bob, and
Dick.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

--Robert Laurence Binyan

The Day the World Changed

The day began as did most of my days with sound of the alarm clock at 4:45.  Forty minutes later, showered, shaved, and with coffee in hand, I was out the door and on my way to the park and ride.

It was a beautiful morning. I took the 6:10 bus to my cubical in a windowless office on the ground floor of the Pentagon and began my day shortly after seven.

At eight o'clock, we assembled in the Colonel's office for staff call. Half-way through the status reports the building was jolted as if by an explosion.  We didn't realize it at the time, but our world had been suddenly and irrevocably changed.

There was conversation.  

"What was that?" 

"It felt like blast over pressure."

"It did. I haven't felt anything like that since the night they blew up the Pleiku ammo dump."

"I heard that someone ran an airplane into the World Trade Center."

"It was two planes. The second one hit right before we came in."

"You don't suppose someone did something here?"

"Maybe we should see what happened."

I moved to my desk and began shutting down my computer.  Someone opened the door.  The hall was full of smoke. We realized "Yeah. Maybe we should be getting out of here." 

Remembering what countless elementary school teachers had said about fire drills -- don't stop; don't go back for anything -- I left the computer behind and walked out the door, away from the smoke and out of the building.

Only later did we learn that the Pentagon had been hit by an airplane. Only then did we recognize that the world had been changed.

When I went to work that day, my nation and the world were at peace. Before I got home we were at war.

I went to work believing in goodness. I returned having experienced evil.

I went to work not doubting I would return home when work was done. Nearly 4000 of my fellow citizens probably thought likewise, only to have their lives ended in an act of coldly premeditated malice.  

I went to work not considering the means by which one people can inflict terror on another. I returned outraged at the atrocity I had witnessed. And, since anger is the appropriate response to outrage, I returned from work angry and eager to see justice done..

Eleven years have passed since the day the world changed. Time has done little to assuage my outrage.  An atrocity, even after eleven years, remains an atrocity. Time has allowed me give up my expectation and hope of retribution and get on with life. In some quarters, that probably counts as forgiveness. 

How about you?

Where were you the day the world changed?

How has it affected you personally?

A Good Thing

Forty-six years ago, I stood in front of a church as the most beautiful girl in the world walked down the aisle to join her hand and life to mine.

Nothing has been the same since.

We were both young. It is no esaggeration when I call her my teenaged bride.

No one expected us to make it. We were told that statistics were against us. We didn't care. Rather, with optimism fueled by youthful infatuation, we determined to be the exception.   

Neither of us knew exactly what we were getting into, but were determined to get into it and go through it together.  

Neither of us in our wildest imagination could have forseen college, flight school, ten years of active military service, one war followed by nine months of recovery, cancer, Pink Panthers, four children, eight grand children, numerous grand dogs, and nineteen addresses including thirty years at a single address in the same community. 

When we married, neither of us thought that we could love each other more, or that life could get any better.  We were both wrong.

Today, I can only look back in wonder at the last forty-six years. They went by so fast, and are not nearly enough.

To those who knew us and were there forty-six years ago, thank you. You are very dear to us.

To those of you whom we've met since then, thank you for being part of it all. You have enriched our lives immeasureably.

And to my teenaged bride of forty-six years I say, "I'm still not sure exactly what I'm getting into, but I want to get into it with you.  And I know it will be wonderful."

It is written that "He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor from the LORD."

I am, among men, most richly blessed.