Fallen Heroes
Ahhhhh! The sun is shining. Birds are singing. Sweet smells of new green grass abounds. Beautiful spring flowers are in bloom. We’re going on a picnic to the lake, or maybe the beach. There’s a parade downtown with fire trucks, floats, bands, and old guys marching in their too-tight military uniforms. Maybe some fireworks tonight. It’s the unofficial beginning of summer. A three day weekend. No work until Tuesday. Yea, life is good. Let’s have some fun.
But wait
. It’s Memorial Day. The day all true Americans commemorate the brave fallen soldiers of our wars. The very people that gave their lives, so that you and I can enjoy the freedoms that we have today. Memorial Day began as Decoration Day after the Civil War to honor the Union soldiers that lost their lives in battle. Graves were marked with fresh-cut flowers. Mass burial sites in Gettysburg, Shiloh, Chancellorsville, Chickamauga, and Antietam, the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, were decorated by the wives and girlfriends of their fallen heroes that didn’t make it back home.
In 1868, as our country slowly began to heal from this devastating war, and it appeared that we would finally become the United States of America, General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, proclaimed the 30th of May, Memorial Day.
By 1890, all of the Northern states observed this commemoration. It wasn’t until 1971, when Memorial Day was proclaimed by Congress to honor the dead of all wars, that most of the Southern states began to observe the last Monday in May.
On the hallowed grounds of the Arlington National Cemetery, a wreath will be placed at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Dedicated in April, 1932, the marble monument sits at the head of the gravesite of a WWI soldier brought back from France unidentified. On May 30, 1958, the crypts to the left and right of the tomb were placed with the unidentified remains of combatants from WWII, and Korea, respectively. On May 28, 
1984, in the center, President Ronald Reagan presided over the internment of the unidentified remains of a Vietnam War veteran. (Note: The Vietnam veteran, thru DNA testing, was later identified and exhumed. Air Force 1st Lt. Michael Blassie now lies in peace at the Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in St. Louis. The crypt remains empty to this day.)
Although there are 146 National Cemeteries in the United States, and 24 American Military cemeteries overseas, none are as revered as the one in Arlington, Virginia. Comprising 642 acres of beautifully maintained and manicured rolling land, majestic trees, (some over 100 years old), just driving through the front gate will take your breath away. There are over 14,000 existing gravesites, and on Memorial Day weekend, every marker will have a United States flag placed in honor by the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment.
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier has a sentinel that guards the Monument 24 hrs a day, 365 days a year. They pace back and forth in front of the tomb exactly 21 paces in each direction. The sentinel never stops, except to change direction, until his relief is there to ceremoniously trade places. Every step, every turn, every salute, every guard change, is completed with the precision not known anywhere else in the world. Not even at Buckingham Palace.
Visitors from all over the world come to Arlington to pay their respects for America’s fallen heroes. Just regular people like you and I. And then there are Dignitaries, Presidents, Ministers, Chancellors, and Heads of State that have placed a wreath at the Memorial Amphitheater. All paying honor to the heroes of our wars. Some are from countries that may surprise you. Germany, Italy, France, Japan, Korea, and Russia.
If you ever 
get a chance to visit Arlington National Cemetery, please do so. As you drive through the main entrance gate, and get the very first glimpse of the headstones, you will be humbled. Visit the Arlington house, the Old Amphitheater, the Kennedy’s (both John and Robert) gravesites with the eternal flame, the Memorial Amphitheater, walk the many pathways that wind through the 70 different burial sections. Watch the sentinel as he guards the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and the frequent changing of the guards.
No. This is not a paid advertisement for Arlington National Cemetery. I’m just an old soldier (2 tours in Vietnam) that has the upmost respect for the unheralded military personnel, that gave the ultimate sacrifice………. their lives.
Have fun on this Memorial Day weekend. Enjoy the time with your family and friends. Go to your picnics, the beach, the parades, the carnivals, the parties, the food, and the downtime. Just remember, take a moment and say grace, or a prayer, for the ones who gave us the rights, liberties, and freedoms that we enjoy today……our FALLEN HEROES.
Til we meet again.
FB 05/26/12
Old Age
I’m half ready for retirement. What I mean by that is, the brain wants to keep on working, but the body wanted to retire 10 years ago.
The brain is saying, “Yahoo, let’s go”. “Let’s party”. “Let’s stay up ‘til 3, and get up at 5”. “Come on, we’re not tired, keep going”. “Drink another 5 hour boost, we’re good”.
And the body says, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I am tired, and I want to lie down and get some sleep”.
I think, when a man turns 50, he should be marched out into a field, shot dead, and left there to let the buzzards take him away piece by piece. Unless you have the body of an athlete, or do a lot exercising, after 50 the body starts to turn against you.
Let me give you some examples:
- My wife says I’m getting hard of hearing. She says that she has been telling me this for several years. I heard her yesterday.
- I call her my wife, because I sometimes can’t remember her name.
- I have to check my driver license for my own name at times.
- I bought some pills, or maybe they were capsules, to help my memory. The ad said they would help with memory loss. And they may, if I knew where the heck I put them.
- I now have to carry 3 pairs of glasses. 1 pair for up to 2 feet. Another pair for 2 to 6 feet. And still another, for 6 feet to infinity. I’m forever grabbing the wrong pair. I need to color code them.
- I get out of the Laz-y-boy and go into the kitchen to get……What? Stand there a few moments. Don’t know. Back to the Laz-y-boy and sit down. Gotta pee. Oh yeh, I was headed for the bathroom, not the kitchen.
- Driving to work the other day on a dual lane divided highway. Everybody seems so friendly today. They all blow their horns as they pass by. I wave and toot back. Then this guy in a big 4 wheel drive pickup pulls along side and lays on his horn. I look over and he flips me the bird. WHAT THE H***! I look at my speedometer and I’m driving 10mph under the speed limit, and my left turn signal is still blinking.
- I live in an old Victorian style house with 14 steps from the porch to the sidewalk area. I rest when I get to the bottom to grab the mail. Sometimes, I rest ½ way back up.
- I’m losing hair where I should have hair, and growing hair where I shouldn’t. My forehead keeps getting taller and taller. Won’t be long before it’s all the way back to the crown of my head.
- Why do I have hair growing from my ears? I didn’t have any there for the first 50 years. ??????????
- My chest hair fell out. Didn’t have any until my late teens. I was proud of my chest hair. I watched it turn from blonde, to brown, to gray. One day I looked and they were gone. ALL THIRTEEN OF THEM!!!!!!
I decided to buy a bicycle to get some exercise. This will be great, I thought. The first city block was easy (it was all downhill from my house). Heh Heh, no pedaling. I rode a few more city blocks. I’m smiling and waving to neighbors and friends sitting on their front porches. And I’m thinking to myself, you people are sitting there getting fat and lazy, and me……..I’m going to be fit as a fiddle. Rode a few more blocks and decided that I’d better head back to the house.
Rode a different route back so I could wave at more people. Everything was fine. This is great. I’m really going to enjoy this. And then……I came to the hill 1 block from my house. I shifted in to the lowest gear and started up the grade. The first 20 to 25 feet was OK, and then my legs started to ache. The next 20 to 25 feet, I’m starting to pant. The next 10 feet, or so, I’m standing up pumping the pedals. My breathing is getting more rapid, my heart is racing like an out of control freight train, my face is flushed, and I’m feeling faint. I stopped.
I stood beside my beautiful new bicycle trying to regain my strength. I had to sit on the curb for fear that I was going to fall over. I sure hope none of the neighbors pass by. I think I’m dying here. I swear, I can see my heart beating against my chest. I just paid $379 for this piece of sh**, and it killed me the first time out. Damn, I laid back on the grass.
After about twenty minutes, I was pretty much back to normal. I was still 200 feet from the house. As I pushed, not rode, the bicycle up the rest of the hill, I thought, what the heck were you thinking. You are too old for this kind of punishment.
I pushed that killer piece of machinery across the sidewalk, into the yard, and to the front porch. I gave it a shove under the porch, and it flopped on its side. I hope it rusts to death. I haven’t seen it since.
To those of you reading this blog under the age of 50, now you know just what you can look forward to. For those of you over 50, and you haven’t already fell asleep, then you know what I’m writing about.
Sweet dreams.
Til we meet again.
FB 05/20/12
The Beginning of the End of the NFL
Those of my readers that know me, or the ones that have at least seen me, know that I don’t have the physique for playing the game of football. Yea, I’ll admit I am a little overweight, and sort of round about the middle, but by no means, am I a linebacker. I don’t even know if they make shoulder pads in my size. Do they make an xxsmall?
Nevertheless, I enjoy watching the game at all levels of play, whether it is High School, College, or the NFL. The game is full of timing, skill, anticipation, acrobatics, head movements, body movements, and at times, a little “ballet” like. (I know my inbox will be filled after that statement).
If you doubt what I say, the next time you tune in to a football game on the TV, turn “OFF” the sound and watch. Don’t watch the football, watch the linemen, and the linebackers, as they shift and move to better their position. Some are “on their toes”, while others are “flat-footed”. The ball is hiked. The running back comes flying out of the backfield. Almost in unison, you will observe that the linemen, and the linebackers turn their heads in the direction of the ball carrier, while trying to throw off their blocker. It’s precision, it’s dramatic.
Still don’t believe me? Watch Patrick Willis of the San Francisco 49ers, Ray Lewis of the Baltimore Ravens, Brian Urlacher of the Chicago Bears, or DeMarcus Ware of the Dallas Cowboys. Arguably, four of the greatest linebackers in the game today.
Even go back a few years. Do you remember these names? Lawrence Taylor, Dick Butkus, Jack Lambert, Ray Nitschke, Chris Hanburger, Mike Curtis, Nick Buoniconti, Sam Huff, Junior Seau. The list goes on and on. All the players named, both today and yesterday, loved the game and played when they were healthy, as well as hurt. They would get their “bell rung” and hobble over to the bench for a play or two. Some coach, assistant coach, or even one of their teammates, would come over to them and say something like: “Man, we’re getting killed out there”, or “You’re our star player, we need your help out there”, or “You’re OK, get on in there and support your teammates”.
Off they’d go. Back into the battle. Playing with the same reckless abandonment. They thought that they had to be there. The owner, the coaches, their teammates, and especially the fans, expected them to play. They played hurt, not thinking of their health, or their future. Afterall, the team doctor said they were OK to play. Football is a brutal sport.
The NFL currently has over 2000 lawsuits filed by former players that claim that the NFL allegedly withheld information that mental debilitation could result from all the beatings to the head. These suits were filed in just the past six months.
One of the suits was filed by former Washington Redskin great, Art Monk. Monk claims that the NFL didn’t do enough to educate players about, or protect them from, these dangers in the past. I just recently talked to Art after a book signing. He seemed fine, and friendly as always, but he obviously is concerned about his future health.
Super Bowl MVP, retired Quarterback Kurt Warner has stated that he would have reservations about his children playing the game. Baltimore Ravens safety Bernard Pollard was quoted on Houston’s Sports Radio 610 AM, “I know what my body has been through. I’m 27 years old. I take care of myself, but it’s a violent sport. I don’t want him to have go through it. I don’t want to see my son with a concussion.” In another interview, New York Giants defensive end, Osi Umenyiora stated that “I know when I’m 45, there is a strong chance I’ll be in a wheelchair.”
Current and former players of the NFL are concerned, and you and I, as fans, should be too. The NFL in the last two seasons has instituted new regulations to try and lessen the head injuries. But, are they doing enough?
Chicago Bears Dave Duerson, Atlanta Falcons Ray Easterling, and San Diego Chargers Junior Seau, have all committed suicide in the past twelve months. Easterling, and Seau, in the last thirty days. Were these suicides possibly caused by head injuries (concussions) during their playing days? The wives of Duerson, and Easterling, seem to think so. Boston University’s Center of Traumatic Encephalopathy seems to think so. BU has studied the brains of over 20 former players, and have observed significant trauma that could cause memory loss, insomnia, dementia, and other mental disorders.
There are people that are going to say that the players should already know that football is a violent game. If the players are concerned about getting hurt, or suffering life altering injuries, then they should have been taxi drivers, or teachers, or (God forbid) politicians. What these advocates of violence don’t understand is the love of the sport that these modern day “Gladiators” possess. It’s the teamwork, the comradery, the passion, that drives the players.
Yes, they know that they are going to get hurt, but the NFL needs to do more to protect them. Possibly have the three leading equipment manufacturers, Riddell, Schutt, and Xenith bid against each other to develop better head and neck protection. The competition alone will help to design and test safer equipment much faster.
The NFL needs to follow the lead of the most violent sport in the United States today…….NASCAR racing. It required deaths on their “playing field”, before NASCAR started to regulate safer equipment.
In January of 1964 at Riverside International Raceway, Joe Weatherly was involved in an accident. Joe’s head went outside the car and hit a concrete retaining wall, killing him instantly. NASCAR mandated safety nets.
Also, in May of 1964, at Charlotte Motor Speedway, Glen “Fireball” Roberts slammed backwards into a concrete retaining wall, flipped upside down, and burst into flames. He was pulled from the burning car by fellow driver Ned Jarrett, but five weeks later died from his injuries. NASCAR mandated flame retardant coveralls, and safer fuel tanks.
Over the next few years, NASCAR mandated the five point harness, on board fire extinguishers, and contoured racing seats.
August 11, 1991, on the road course at Watkins Glen International, Jimmy Means and JD McDuffie collided at the fast entrance to turn 5. As the two cars slid off the pavement, McDuffie lost all of his brakes, hit the tire barrier at great speed, and was catapulted upside down against the safety fence. The race car then slammed to the ground on its roof, killing McDuffie. NASCAR mandated safer tire barriers, better catch fences, gravel pits to slow the cars down, and stiffer roll cages.
Even though the sport lost drivers Neil Bonnett, Rodney Orr. John Nemechek, Kenny Irwin, Jr, and King Richad Pettys grandson Adam Petty, to crashes with the unsafe concrete barriers, not much was accomplished until 2001.
February 18, 2001. Daytona International Speedway. The “Intimidator”, Dale Earnhardt, Sr. was running in third place on the last lap of the prestigious Daytona 500. The cars running 1-2 were owned by Earnhardt, and driven by his son, Dale Earnhardt, Jr., and longtime friend, Michael Waltrip. Was Earnhardt blocking for his front running cars? Maybe. Entering turn 4, Sterling Marlin clipped the left rear fender of Earhardt’s car. As Earnhardt tried to gain control of his spinning car, Kenny Schrader, with no place to go, rammed the passenger side and pushed Earnhardt almost head-on into the outside wall at 160mph. Dale Earnhardt lost his life that day due to a Basilar skull fracture. And NASCAR lost its greatest ambassador.
Earnhardt, Bonnett, Nemechek, Petty, Irwin, and McDuffie, all died from a Basilar skull fracture. A neck and head restraint called a Hans Device was developed and made mandatory. Today, NASCAR has implemented softer, safety barriers that line the concrete walls at each track they race on. They have added full face helmets, Nomex fire suits, boots and gloves, padded roll cages, form fitting padded seats, kill switches, fuel bladders, improved 5 and 6 point harnesses, reinforced window nets, and a host of safety regulations, to keep these modern day chariot drivers as safe as possible.
Is the NFL going to wait until their players start dropping dead on the playing field from head and neck injuries? I know that is an extreme statement, but something needs to be done. Now, in 2012, before the next football season starts, it’s time for the NFL to step up. Pete Rozelle needs to take a stand and say that the NFL knows how violent and dangerous the game of football is. And, that research and development of newer, safer head and neck protection will begin immediately. And, that the playing surface itself will be studied to see if the impact can be lessened. And finally, that the NFL, and Team owners are setting up a fund to help the former players who may now be suffering the effects of brain trauma.
I know. I know. I know what you all are thinking. This old man has finally flipped his lid. First, he compares football to ballet. Then, he compares it to auto racing. But, I’m here to tell you, that if the game of football doesn’t become safer for the players soon, the Moms and Dads in this country are going to forbid their youngsters from playing. It’s happening here. It’s happening now. Check your local PeeWee league this fall.
Til we meet again.
FB 05/15/12
Mothers Day
My Mother passed away nearly twenty-eight years ago at the age of fifty-nine. She had cancer, and the last few months of her life were grueling. The pain was excruciating, and I prayed to GOD to pass it to me. He didn’t.
I felt such guilt (and to this day, I still do), for I was the one who convinced her to have the recommended surgery two years before. She just wanted to die. And I, being selfish, and not thinking about what was going thru her mind, talked her into the surgery. I didn’t want to lose my Mom. I loved her so.
My Dad was strong. Even though he knew that I was wrong, he didn’t say a word. He understood.
Still today, I think of my Mom daily. I miss our discussions, our arguments, and our laughter. I still talk to her, but it’s not the same.
I remember as a child sitting on her lap, and feeling the warmth only a Mother can give. It was comforting, and it was safe. As an adult, she would sit on my lap and we would laugh about it. The feeling I had was still the same. Moms make all the problems seem to disappear with the love for their children.
Mom taught me so many things. I remember fondly one of the songs she used to sing as she busily worked around the house, or driving the car, or just sitting on the sofa daydreaming. I didn’t think of it at the time, but as she sang this song, she was probably thinking of her Mom.
“M – is for the million things she gave me,
O – means only that she’s growing old,
T – is for the tears she shed to save me,
H – is for her heart of purist gold,
E – is for her eyes with love light shining,
R – means right and right she’ll always be,
Put them all together and they spell MOTHER,
A word that means the world to me.”
Over the last few years, as I head towards the end of my life here on earth, I find myself singing this song. Don’t know why. Must be thinking about Mom. With the grace of GOD, Mom and I will once again be together. And she will comfort me. I love you, Mom.
Pardon me for rambling, but please continue to read. The following will warm your heart, make you laugh, and bring a tear to your eye.
********************
The young boy had just entered junior high school. During his first week in the new school, the Band Director spoke before the homeroom class and asked if any of the students would like to join the band. He went on to say how being a member of the band builds character, and teaches teamwork. They would be taught how to read and write music, and learn how to play a really cool instrument.
That night at home, the boy was trying to decide which instrument he would play if he did join. He finally narrowed it down to two, the drums or the guitar. If he is good at either, maybe when he is older, he could play in a Rock Band. He goes to Mom for her advice.
“Mom, I’m thinking about joining the band at school, and I want your advice on which instrument to play,” he asked.
“Oh, that’s easy Honey…..play the cello”, she answered.
“The cello!……That’s for girls”, he exclaimed.
“Not really, Son. My Father, your Grandfather, played the cello in a band for years, and was quite accomplished. Had he not decided on medicine as a career, he could have been quite famous as a cellist”, she said.
Reluctantly, taking his Mom’s advice, he chose the cello. For four years, he drug that brown wooden box back and forth to school every day. As time passed, the boy learned to love the cello, and the burden got lighter and lighter. He loved the mellow, and almost hypnotic, sound it emitted. “Mom was right”, he thought.
He earned a scholarship to a prestigious Music Academy, and excelled as a featured soloist on the cello. After graduation from the academy, he was invited by a famous symphony orchestra to audition. After playing just two pieces, he was offered a position with the orchestra. He played from his heart, just like his Mother said that he should. “Thank you Mom”.
Several years later, while visiting his Mother, she was leafing through a photo album, and called him to her side. She pointed to an old faded photograph of a small orchestra, and to a young man on the front row.
“That’s your Grandfather with is little cello”, she said with pride.
He gasped. As tears started to run down his face, he began to laugh and hugged his Mother tightly.
“Why Son, what’s the matter”? she asked, perplexed at his behavior.
As he hugged his Mother even tighter, the love for her pouring from his heart, he laughed as he pointed to the young man in the photo and said,
“Mom………….. that’s a violin”.
“Oh”.
***************
And we thought Moms were perfect. Well, they are not. Even though they seem to be superhuman at times, they are still human.
Sunday May the 13th is Mothers Day. Make sure that you visit, or call your Mom, and say “ThankYou”. If your Mom has passed, say a prayer, for she is always listening.
Til we meet again.
FB 05/12/12
What was Cole Hamels of the Phillies Thinking?
It’s Sunday night at Nationals Park, and the Philadelphia Phillies are in town for the final game of their series. Cole Hamels is the starting pitcher for the Phillies. Hamels is the 2008 World Series MVP. A man with class and respectability. Right?…..Wrong!
1st inning, 2 outs, and the young rookie Bryce Harper steps up to the plate. Harper is the newest “Phenom” on the the Washington Nationals roster. The man has a cannon for an arm. Runs the bases like a cheetah is chasing him. Knows when to steal a base. Studies his opponent. And is currently batting .261.
Not bad, huh? Oh, I forgot to mention that he is the youngest player in MLB at 19. Sunday night is his 8th game in the majors. Harper may not keep the Nats in 1st place in the NL East, but it won’t be from lack of effort on his part.
Anyway, back to the game. Harper is dug in and waiting on the 3rd pitch. The left-handed Hamels hurls a fast ball and hits Harper in the back. Harper drops his bat to the ground. Bends over to stretch the muscles that just got zinged, and then, trots off to first base never looking at Hamels. Even though the pitch appeared to be intentional, the Umpire didn’t call it. Harper, for a young man, never said a word.
Jayson Werth advances Harper to third base with a single. As Hamels turns and throws to first to try and pick off Werth, Harper steals home. Safe at home with his 1st steal in the majors, Harper dusts himself off and heads for the dugout, taking a quick glance at pitcher Hamels, as if to say “How do you like me, now”. Ya gotta love this kid.
After the game, Hamels is quoted as saying, “I was trying to hit him. I’m not going to deny it. That’s just … something that I grew up watching, that’s what happened, so I’m just trying to continue the old baseball. I think some people kind of get away from it. I remember when I was a rookie, the strike zone was really, really small and you didn’t say anything just because that’s the way baseball is. Sometimes the league is protecting certain players and making it not that old-school, prestigious way of baseball.” What the heck does that mean?
After Harper was told the hit was intentional, the classy young player said, “I’m not mad at all. He is a great guy, great pitcher, he knows how to pitch, he is an All-Star. It’s all good. … Hamels threw a good game tonight. You have to give all the props to him. He came out there, he threw the ball well. There is nothing we can do about it.”
Now that’s class. This young man is wise beyond his years.
Cole Hamels was handed a five game suspension, and a fine, by Major League Baseball.
Til we meet again.
FB 05/07/12
I’m Back……..Finally
To answer all of my followers, “Yes, I am still alive and still kicking”. Thanks to all for the emails and text messages, inquiring as to where I have been.
It has been a tough five weeks. Working day and night, seven days a week, at my regular paying job. Getting home at 11:00 PM, eating dinner, go to bed, and start it all over again at 6:00 AM. Now that the stores fiscal year has ended, work should get back to normal.
I am not complaining mind you. I really like my job. I work with some great people. But, I’m old, and I’m tired. Work has gotten in the way of the thing I love to do………and that is Writing.
Selecting the topic, doing the research, composing the paragraphs, choosing the correct words, writing and rewriting. All of this is very relaxing to me. Writing is the most satisfying thing I have ever done. Seeing my words in print is exhilarating. I only hope that the readers enjoy the different articles as much as I enjoy writing them.
Current projects in the making are: Drug addiction, Head injuries, Christianity, the Potomac River, and some comical stories to make you laugh. So, hang in there with me……….I’M BACK.
Til we meet again.
FB 05/05/12
UnderThisOldMansHat 