Lots of little rubies against a bright blue sky!Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Manic Monday - Nuts
These are from the black walnut tree in my back yard. There are hundreds of them on the ground after Ike blew through here a couple of weeks ago. We used to pay the kid up the street a nickel a walnut to pick them up...he grew up and no longer works for change.
This is what the squirrels do to them. This messy tree makes me
NUTS
Showing off my Flower
I am once again using one photo to fulfill the needs of two posts. I am participating in Today's Flower for the first time and am using a photo I took this week at the local rose garden. I have been experimenting with macro photography and love the way the light is coming through the bottom left of this rose.Because I think this is such a beautiful shot I am also using it for HS:MS, Show off Sunday! I hope you think it is worthy.
Something about the color and the curves of this rose reminds me of the paintings of Georgia O'Keefe....she was a wonderful artist and a woman I would have loved to conversed over tea with.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
We have a Winner(s)!
Did you watch the debate last night? I watched some of it...not all. But this morning while listening to the radio, I was informed that both McCain and Obama claim oratory victory.
It reminds me of little league. We don't want to be responsible for wrecking anybody's fragile self-esteem or hurt anyone's feelings. So...EVERYBODY IS A WINNER!
Can someone let John and Barack know their trophies are on the way.....
Two Posts With One Flash!
SELF-PORTRAIT SATURDAY
VIEW
A VIEW through the looking glassClick on the above emblems to see more Views and Self-Portraits!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
It's Friday!
In the late 1800's, dozens of wooden arches spanned the main street of a nearby city. The city thus became known as 'Arch City'. These arches were used to light the road for a number of years before becoming the power source for the streetcars. They were removed in 1914 to make way for progress and technology and were replaced by cluster lights.
In an attempt to recreate the nostalgia and antiquity of the area, a movement was started in 1997 to replace the old arches across the road. By 2002, 17 of these beautiful arches were once again in place across this long stretch of roadway.
Hold the switch flipping ceremony...there is a problem...a big problem! For more than three years the lights on the arches failed to light. Due to a poor design from the beginning 'Arch City' once again had arches but the street was still dark.
Fast forward three years, a lawsuit and judgement against the design company, and a new engineer firm, 1.25 million (yes I said million) dollars in repair, Arch City has 17 fully functioning arches with lights that pulse, flicker, change colors and change patterns.
So when the sky is dark...at least Arch City will have the light of seventeen beautiful arches. You need only look upward to see them.
HS:MS Stack
A stack of books
Come browse among my stacks!
"You cannot open a book without learning something" Confucius
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
It's a Holiday!
Did you know today was National Ass Grab Day? No really...I am not kidding. Just google it and you will find several of the teen forums talking about it. Apparently it happens several times a year. How did I find out about it...I caught an unfortunate young man grabbing a young lady's bottom in the hallway today. A serious no-no in my book!
He and I then came to an understanding about why that sort of behavior would not be tolerated again. I think he got the message...it was hard not to with my finger inches from his face and words like sexual harassment, demeaning, disrespectful, suspension, legal charges and his football coach standing to the side glaring at him during the entire interaction. Oh by the way, he will be benched for the next game.
The girl...as disturbing as this is to say, she thought this whole 'grab ass event' was cute and fun. She even tried to cover for this young man claiming he grabbed her book bag and not her rear end. Unfortunately, I have not had the opportunity to discuss this with her...but I will and I will use the same vocabulary with her I used with him.
I will take the discussion with her one step further. My agenda with her will be to make sure she understands the message she is sending by allowing someone to touch her like that. To disrespect her...to disrespect herself...to allow herself to be demeaned...to allow herself to be harassed.
Of course I am an equal opportunity scolder of the ass grabber and had it been the other way around I would have reacted the same way and the message would also have been the same. I strongly support the ideal that boy's should not grab girl's rear ends, girls should not grab boy's rear ends, boys should not grab boy's rear ends and girls should not grab girl's rear ends. In fact, how about we go back to that age old rule of just keeping our hands to ourselves?
Though what I am to expect? After all today is a holiday...National Ass Grab Day.
I'd like to kick the ass of the person who came up with that!
He and I then came to an understanding about why that sort of behavior would not be tolerated again. I think he got the message...it was hard not to with my finger inches from his face and words like sexual harassment, demeaning, disrespectful, suspension, legal charges and his football coach standing to the side glaring at him during the entire interaction. Oh by the way, he will be benched for the next game.
The girl...as disturbing as this is to say, she thought this whole 'grab ass event' was cute and fun. She even tried to cover for this young man claiming he grabbed her book bag and not her rear end. Unfortunately, I have not had the opportunity to discuss this with her...but I will and I will use the same vocabulary with her I used with him.
I will take the discussion with her one step further. My agenda with her will be to make sure she understands the message she is sending by allowing someone to touch her like that. To disrespect her...to disrespect herself...to allow herself to be demeaned...to allow herself to be harassed.
Of course I am an equal opportunity scolder of the ass grabber and had it been the other way around I would have reacted the same way and the message would also have been the same. I strongly support the ideal that boy's should not grab girl's rear ends, girls should not grab boy's rear ends, boys should not grab boy's rear ends and girls should not grab girl's rear ends. In fact, how about we go back to that age old rule of just keeping our hands to ourselves?
Though what I am to expect? After all today is a holiday...National Ass Grab Day.
I'd like to kick the ass of the person who came up with that!
HS:MS Leaf
"Never say there is nothing beautiful in the world anymore. There is always something to make you wonder in the shape of a tree, the trembing of a leaf"
Albert Schweitzer
Monday, September 22, 2008
Ruby Tuesday/Today's Flower
"The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns; the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose."
Kahlil Gibran
Leaning Toward The Left - Is That You Obama?
I am going to try to be as tactful as possible in writing about this. It is a touchy subject at best and a volatile one at its worst. It has been once again brought to the forefront with the upcoming election and especially in light of Sarah Palin and her pregnant teenage daughter and Downs Syndrome son.
Yes...I am talking about abortion. I know no one who is 'pro' abortion. I have yet to speak with a family member, friend, acquaintance or perfect stranger who considers abortion a positive means to an end. It can't be. I can only imagine it must be a horrific decision for any woman and her family to make.
Yet I know many who are 'pro' choice. These people have values and struggle with the idea that there are times when decisions must be made. People who understand that these are decisions that are so desperately personal and private that no law should stop a woman from going forward. That these decisions should be carried out in a medically safe environment with medically trained personnel.
Those who consider their beliefs to be pro choice do not consider themselves to be pro abortion. They believe the concept to mean the individual right to choose. They believe that women ought to have the right to choose what is in her best interest and her family's best interest at that moment in time and it is nobody business. Again...privacy.
Sarah Palin and her daughter made their choices within the privacy of their family unit. They have an incredible support system. Neither of them, nor their children, will ever want for anything. Each will have all the resources they need. Bristol need not think about giving her baby up for adoption (another very viable alternative to teen pregnancy) because her family can support both her and her infant if her teen marriage should fail (statistics say it will).
People who consider themselves pro choice support Sarah Palin and her choice. They support her daughter and her choice. It is what is right for their family and frankly it is nobody business. Pro choice individuals support the Palin family's right to choice and privacy.
Unfortunately, not everyone is as lucky as the Palins. Not everyone has all the resources available to them the Palins do. Luckily, Bristol made a baby with a boy she loved and wants to marry him and make a family. She was not brutally raped by some cretin off the street, becoming pregnant through force and brutality. Not every woman is that fortunate.
And while Ms. Palin's son will surely have some disabilities, she choose to give birth to him and again has the resources to give him whatever he needs. She was blessed with a baby who did not have catastrophic medical problems. Not everyone is that blessed. Fortunately, the Palin women had choices. But if Ms. Palin had her way, no other woman would...she would take choice away from women.
Ms. Palin is on record as being pro-life. She does not support the right to choose in any case what so ever...rape, incest, catastrophic fetal deformity. The only time the right to choose is an option for her is when the life of the mother is in danger and then, the mother would probably not be making the choice...the medical team would.
However, she is also a supporter of capital punishment. In fact, most people I know who consider themselves pro-life also support capital punishment. Am I the only one who sees the hypocrisy here?
How can you be pro-life and pro-death at the same time? Are you only pro-life for a fetus that can't survive without the host upon which it feeds? I don't get the logic. If you call yourself pro-life, why isn't all life sacred to you?
Sarah Palin also states she is in favor of contraception...I think many who consider themselves pro-life are in favor of preventing pregnancy through the use of contraception. How many of you are aware that a great many of the contraceptives currently being used are considered abortifacients? In case you didn't know, several types of birth control pills do not stop conception, they stop implantation. What about the IUD?...same thing. Are you going to lobby to have these items taken off the market thus limiting the birth control options out there? There is already a movement to do just that...again, limiting choice.
I also don't get why women are so willing to give their rights away. I understand you may not be comfortable with having an abortion. Then don't! It may not be the right choice for you. But do you understand that by giving the government the opportunity to legislate any part of your body, you are giving up your rights to privacy and choice? Furthermore, you are also taking away mine and all other women's right to privacy and choice as well? What gives you the right?
Privacy and choice...two of the fundamental blocks our nation was founded upon. So fundamental that we have amendments in our Constitution to protect them and yet so many of you are willing to give those away...I just don't understand it.
Yes...I am talking about abortion. I know no one who is 'pro' abortion. I have yet to speak with a family member, friend, acquaintance or perfect stranger who considers abortion a positive means to an end. It can't be. I can only imagine it must be a horrific decision for any woman and her family to make.
Yet I know many who are 'pro' choice. These people have values and struggle with the idea that there are times when decisions must be made. People who understand that these are decisions that are so desperately personal and private that no law should stop a woman from going forward. That these decisions should be carried out in a medically safe environment with medically trained personnel.
Those who consider their beliefs to be pro choice do not consider themselves to be pro abortion. They believe the concept to mean the individual right to choose. They believe that women ought to have the right to choose what is in her best interest and her family's best interest at that moment in time and it is nobody business. Again...privacy.
Sarah Palin and her daughter made their choices within the privacy of their family unit. They have an incredible support system. Neither of them, nor their children, will ever want for anything. Each will have all the resources they need. Bristol need not think about giving her baby up for adoption (another very viable alternative to teen pregnancy) because her family can support both her and her infant if her teen marriage should fail (statistics say it will).
People who consider themselves pro choice support Sarah Palin and her choice. They support her daughter and her choice. It is what is right for their family and frankly it is nobody business. Pro choice individuals support the Palin family's right to choice and privacy.
Unfortunately, not everyone is as lucky as the Palins. Not everyone has all the resources available to them the Palins do. Luckily, Bristol made a baby with a boy she loved and wants to marry him and make a family. She was not brutally raped by some cretin off the street, becoming pregnant through force and brutality. Not every woman is that fortunate.
And while Ms. Palin's son will surely have some disabilities, she choose to give birth to him and again has the resources to give him whatever he needs. She was blessed with a baby who did not have catastrophic medical problems. Not everyone is that blessed. Fortunately, the Palin women had choices. But if Ms. Palin had her way, no other woman would...she would take choice away from women.
Ms. Palin is on record as being pro-life. She does not support the right to choose in any case what so ever...rape, incest, catastrophic fetal deformity. The only time the right to choose is an option for her is when the life of the mother is in danger and then, the mother would probably not be making the choice...the medical team would.
However, she is also a supporter of capital punishment. In fact, most people I know who consider themselves pro-life also support capital punishment. Am I the only one who sees the hypocrisy here?
How can you be pro-life and pro-death at the same time? Are you only pro-life for a fetus that can't survive without the host upon which it feeds? I don't get the logic. If you call yourself pro-life, why isn't all life sacred to you?
Sarah Palin also states she is in favor of contraception...I think many who consider themselves pro-life are in favor of preventing pregnancy through the use of contraception. How many of you are aware that a great many of the contraceptives currently being used are considered abortifacients? In case you didn't know, several types of birth control pills do not stop conception, they stop implantation. What about the IUD?...same thing. Are you going to lobby to have these items taken off the market thus limiting the birth control options out there? There is already a movement to do just that...again, limiting choice.
I also don't get why women are so willing to give their rights away. I understand you may not be comfortable with having an abortion. Then don't! It may not be the right choice for you. But do you understand that by giving the government the opportunity to legislate any part of your body, you are giving up your rights to privacy and choice? Furthermore, you are also taking away mine and all other women's right to privacy and choice as well? What gives you the right?
Privacy and choice...two of the fundamental blocks our nation was founded upon. So fundamental that we have amendments in our Constitution to protect them and yet so many of you are willing to give those away...I just don't understand it.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Choices?
As we head into the fall and November gets closer, my thoughts are increasingly muddled regarding my vote for president. This isn't new to this particular election...though certainly exacerbated by what I consider to be mediocre choices within both parties.
I cannot declare myself conservative nor liberal. On one issue I am conservative...on another I am liberal. I am passionate about several platforms that the elections seem to hinge on and unfortunately those issues are split by the parties: Religion, Choice, 2nd Amendment, Gay Rights, Medicine, Taxes, Education...to name a few. It makes it difficult to vote a straight ticket.
I still have what, about six weeks to figure out what I am going to do...who I will vote for. I have even considered not voting at all...not a choice in the end.
I cannot declare myself conservative nor liberal. On one issue I am conservative...on another I am liberal. I am passionate about several platforms that the elections seem to hinge on and unfortunately those issues are split by the parties: Religion, Choice, 2nd Amendment, Gay Rights, Medicine, Taxes, Education...to name a few. It makes it difficult to vote a straight ticket.
I still have what, about six weeks to figure out what I am going to do...who I will vote for. I have even considered not voting at all...not a choice in the end.
HS:MS SOS (Show Off Sunday)
Today is SOS on HS:MS
This is Ralph. He is a Persian tabby and is definitely prone to showing off! Big Butts and Little Britches
What a week it has been! Hurricanes in Ohio, extended power outages, daughter-in-law wrecked her car, husband's second opinion of shoulder replacement concurred, and death of a man I loved. At times I thought sitting and picking the lint out of my belly button seemed like a really good time!
Life is slowly returning to normal. Of that I am glad. Routine if good for me. This blog has become part of my routine. I missed it terribly when my power was out. Not just the writing...but also the reading. Keeping up with those I consider my friends...those I have listed on my sidebar and beyond.
In fact, before I began my own blog, I was a follower of several others...a groupie of sorts. I read these blogs daily, sometimes looking several times a day hoping for more postings as I was so enamored by the writings of these individuals. And when I began my own blog, those were the first links that went on my sidebar. I followed them religiously.
But now I find myself faced with a decision I am saddened by. I am going to remove one of those links.
I have followed the said blog for quite some time. I have enjoyed the writings and most of the posts. I share many, but not all of the same ideals of the writer, hence why I read the blog. But lately something has changed about this writer and there is no other way to say it: the writer has become to big for it's britches.
I don't have a problem with being proud of one's self and one's accomplishment's and one's beliefs. What I have a problem with is engaging in name calling, hateful condemnation, rudeness, judgemental diatribe and just plain ugliness when someone else chooses to disagree with you.
The world is made up of people with differing opinions. Blogging can be that much more interesting when we entertain those opinions. We don't all have to agree, what a boring world it would be if we did. But wouldn't if be nice if we would all just try to get along? I know, just a pie in the sky ideal...but forgive me I am still reeling from death.
Life is slowly returning to normal. Of that I am glad. Routine if good for me. This blog has become part of my routine. I missed it terribly when my power was out. Not just the writing...but also the reading. Keeping up with those I consider my friends...those I have listed on my sidebar and beyond.
In fact, before I began my own blog, I was a follower of several others...a groupie of sorts. I read these blogs daily, sometimes looking several times a day hoping for more postings as I was so enamored by the writings of these individuals. And when I began my own blog, those were the first links that went on my sidebar. I followed them religiously.
But now I find myself faced with a decision I am saddened by. I am going to remove one of those links.
I have followed the said blog for quite some time. I have enjoyed the writings and most of the posts. I share many, but not all of the same ideals of the writer, hence why I read the blog. But lately something has changed about this writer and there is no other way to say it: the writer has become to big for it's britches.
I don't have a problem with being proud of one's self and one's accomplishment's and one's beliefs. What I have a problem with is engaging in name calling, hateful condemnation, rudeness, judgemental diatribe and just plain ugliness when someone else chooses to disagree with you.
The world is made up of people with differing opinions. Blogging can be that much more interesting when we entertain those opinions. We don't all have to agree, what a boring world it would be if we did. But wouldn't if be nice if we would all just try to get along? I know, just a pie in the sky ideal...but forgive me I am still reeling from death.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Photo Hunt - Road
“When all's said and done, all roads lead to the same end. So it's not so much which road you take, as how you take it.”
Charles de Lint
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I'm Back
Power returned around 6:oo pm on Wednesday, September 17th. We were without electricity for 75 hours.
My state and particularly my city, endured what is being called the equivalent of a level 1 hurricane on Sunday and not a drop of rain fell. The damage to our area was unbelievable.
We fared well. Some of our neighbors did not. Several houses up the street sustained damage...trees through the roof, on top of cars, down in yards. No one was hurt and that is good.
I have not been to work yet this week. Tomorrow is up in the air. I will know sometime around 6 am tomorrow morning.
Thanks to a good friend, we had a generator. I cooked on a Coleman stove. We lost a minimal amount of food.
I have some issues with the way my city handled things...but I am tired and my heart is heavy. It doesn't seem like complaining is appropriate right now.
I am glad to back my friends...I missed you.
Here are a few shots of our neighborhood to show you what has been going on.
Believe it or not the only thing damaged was the gutter!
The road ends here!
Those tree limbs are through the roof
That's a car under there!
My state and particularly my city, endured what is being called the equivalent of a level 1 hurricane on Sunday and not a drop of rain fell. The damage to our area was unbelievable.
We fared well. Some of our neighbors did not. Several houses up the street sustained damage...trees through the roof, on top of cars, down in yards. No one was hurt and that is good.
I have not been to work yet this week. Tomorrow is up in the air. I will know sometime around 6 am tomorrow morning.
Thanks to a good friend, we had a generator. I cooked on a Coleman stove. We lost a minimal amount of food.
I have some issues with the way my city handled things...but I am tired and my heart is heavy. It doesn't seem like complaining is appropriate right now.
I am glad to back my friends...I missed you.
Here are a few shots of our neighborhood to show you what has been going on.
Believe it or not the only thing damaged was the gutter!
The road ends here!
Those tree limbs are through the roof
That's a car under there!Thomas Paine Said It Best
"These are the times that try men's souls"
I am sitting in a local coffee shop with many others who find themselves in the same situation...no power and no hope for any for several more days. But that seems trivial at this time.
My best friend...Danny's mother, is going to bury her father on Friday. He died September 16th, 2008 in his sleep.
Amongst all this chaos, Bob peacefully 'walked out the door'. I will never make cream puffs for him again. He loved my cream puffs.
Rest in peace Bob Heber...I loved you like a father.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Lucy Is On Hiatus -- Under Protest
"A power failure is a current event...."
This is one of Lucy's friends. She wanted me to pass along that she would love to be writing, really LOVE to be. But she is temporarily off the air.
Her state, and particularly her community, were hard hit by remnants of Hurricane Ike that blew through over the weekend. Several hours of 76 mile an hour winds took their toll on thousands of century old trees, roofs, you name it.
She has been without power since Sunday afternoon. A borrowed generator is keeping the refrigerator running, but hooking up the laptop didn't get her anywhere -- internet service is down. In her words, she is "hanging on by a thread."
As Lucy's readers know, she is an educator. Just outside her school, several large trees and a telephone pole crashed to the ground. The media says the tree, electric wires and the phone pole will be there, and the major state highway that runs in front of her school, closed "until further notice." Just announced: Her school will be closed for a third straight day.
On a lighter note, she says she's not sure which she misses more -- blogging, or her blow dryer.
Lucy is hoping to find room at an internet cafe. When she does she'll say "hi" and teach us about urban survival.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
HS:MS Self Portrait Saturday
It is SPS on HS:MS
This is the first time I have ever taken a self-portrait. It is interesting to try and do this without showing too much of ones self. For me anonymity is important. I an careful with whom I share my blog and I do not use my real name.
So if you do figure out who this picture is of, remember...to know me is to know who I am on the inside and few really do!
This is the first time I have ever taken a self-portrait. It is interesting to try and do this without showing too much of ones self. For me anonymity is important. I an careful with whom I share my blog and I do not use my real name.
So if you do figure out who this picture is of, remember...to know me is to know who I am on the inside and few really do!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Sky Watch Friday
Purple mountains majesty and not a cloud in the sky!It doesn't get better than that!
King's Canyon National Park
Thursday, September 11, 2008
HS:MS - OVER
Somewhere OVER the rainbowSkies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Today is a good day to dream for those we lost on 9/11 2001
A Memory For Today
I find myself reliving the memory...a bus full of boys and girls who have just finished their eighth grade year of school. We have traveled together across two states and into the District of Columbia, our Nation's Capital. It is our second day together.
This is my second trip to D.C. with a group of eighth graders. We are being escorted by a wonderful guide. HM and I bonded the first year we were together and I refuse to have any other guide but her. She is simply amazing! She has to be the strongest woman I know and she is my hero.
At this moment we are on our way to the Iwo Jima Memorial. It is a personal favorite of mine. I love the memorial and the story behind it. A victory for our nation, but also a victory for the men who fought a battle against an enemy they couldn't see. A victory that seemed near impossible to win.
As we get closer to the monument, HM hands out six cards to six different students and asks them to read aloud what is on each of the cards. As each student reads from her card the bus becomes quiet. The voices of the chosen readers sing out:
Sgt. Mike Strank - gave the orders to find a pole, attach the flag and "put'er up!" He was killed March 1, 1945 on Mount Suribachi when he was hit by a mortar. Sgt. Strank is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Freedom isn't Free.
Harlon Block - was Sgt. Strank's second-in-command. He took over the leadership of his unit when the Sgt. Mike was killed. Harlon was killed just hours later at the age of 21. Harlon is buried beside the Iwo Jima Monument in Harlingen, Texas. Freedom isn't Free.
Franklin Sousley - enlisted at 17 and sailed for the Pacific on his 18th birthday. Franklin died on Iwo Jima on March 21rst. He was 19. Franklin is buried at Elizaville Cemetery, Kentucky. Freedom isn't Free.
Ira Hayes - was a Pima Indian. Ira was a dedicated Marine who was admired by his fellow Marines. He died at the age of 32 from alcoholism. Freedom isn't Free.
Rene Gagnon -was the soldier who carried the flag up Mt. Suribachi. He was the first survivor to arrive back in the US. Rene was modest about his achievement throughout his life. He is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Freedom isn't Free.
John Bradley was a Navy Corpsmen and won the Navy Cross for heroism. He never thought of himself as a hero and led an intensely private life. He died in 1994 leaving a wife of 47 years and eight children. Freedom isn't Free.
As I watch the faces of my boys and girls, I know they have understood the graveness of the words and the meaning behind them. All is quiet and reverent as the words are being read. As the final card is being related to those around her, the young lady stumbles over the words and a nervous giggle escapes her.
HM jumps as if a her body has been jolted with a current of electricity. Her head snaps toward the young lady and she gasps in a low desperate voice, "Do you think that is funny? Do you think freedom is free? Well let me tell you something, it isn't!" And she turns away from the young girl, her face ashen.
There is an awkward silence on the bus. A tension so thick and palatable no one dares move. The kids do not understand what has just happened. The little girl doesn't know what she has done. I however do. And it isn't her fault. She could not have known. It is not the time to talk about it. We need to wait. So we make the rest of the trip in silence letting what has just happened toil in our minds.
Before HM exits at her stop that evening, she and I talked about the next day's schedule. Arlington National Cemetery is on the event list. There is planning to do. There will be a wreath laying at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Two of our students have relatives buried in the cemetery and we want to locate those grave sites for them. That will take some coordinating. We also will visit the Faces of the Fallen exhibit. HM will not go there with us this year either.
Arlington is a difficult place to be in peace time...HM and I discuss what it may be like now that our country is at war and how to prepare our children. We also talk about how I am to prepare for one other thing:
Lucy: HM I will tell the students about Shane when you get off the bus tonight. Is that okay with you?
Hm: Yes...but please use his name. I want people to remember his name.
HM's Shane...her only son. The father of her two grandchildren. The light of her life. The son who left for his second tour of Iraq and never came back. This is never easy for us. Two mothers having a conversation about a dead child. The pain we both feel is overwhelming. I hurt for her... although I can see she is better than last year.
Last year...he has been dead less than three weeks and buried less than two and she was taking a tour of eighth graders around D.C. I don't know where she got the strength to do it. But she did and she did it with grace and dignity and she did it with a smile most of the time. She walked that cemetery with us and stood in front of those graves after just burying her child...and when I asked her how she did it she said, "why my Shane would have wanted me to. He would not have wanted me to sit and cry and do nothing. I do it for him." That is why she is my hero.
So HM left the bus and I asked the kids if they might listen to me for a moment and I took them back to the afternoon's event:
"Courtney, when you were reading about your soldier today and you messed up and giggled, were you confused when HM got upset with you?" She just nodded. "I need to explain something to you all. You all know tomorrow we are going to go to Arlington National Cemetery and you all know that this is a place of respect and reverence right?" More nods. "No horsing around, decent clothes, respectful behavior, no loud voices. You know how to behave. Break these rules and there will be serious consequences. This is not the place to screw up!" Eyes are wide at this point.
With that all said, back to HM. Remember what it said at the end of each card? Freedom isn't Free. HM has paid the ultimate price for freedom, she gave up her only son. Her son Shane, she wants you to remember his name. Shane went to Iraq and was killed just one year ago. He left behind his parents, a sister, a wife and two very young children. So you can see why HM got so upset when she thought you were laughing at that phrase, because she paid dearly for our freedom."
I am crying, as are most of the students. They finally understand her reaction and are okay with what happened. They ask me questions. Some I can answer and some I can't. They want to know how he died. I tell them maybe HM will talk to them about Shane in the morning. I don't know if she will. I don't know if she is that strong yet.
The morning arrives and we load the bus. The kids are reserved. It seems many have thought about HM and her son. They are still curious and wonder if she will talk about him. We travel to the prearranged pick-up site and HM boards our bus. She is all smiles as usual. Today she is wearing Shane's dog tags and her Gold Star Mother's pin. The kids notice immediately. I tell her I have spoken with them and they would like her to tell them more about Shane.
She stands and takes the microphone in her hand and tries to begin. But before words can form in her mouth she sits back down and hands the microphone to me. Instantly, tears are falling on her cheeks and she puts her hand over her mouth, 'I can't', the words come out in a whisper. I explain to the kids that she is unable to talk of him...it is too painful. There are cheeks damp with tears elsewhere on the bus as well.
Arlington...how does one talk about one of the most sacred places in the United States? I have been here three times and every time it has been different. This time however is by far the most profound. It will forever, I believe, be burned in the memory of 48 young minds for the rest of their lives. It is also, I believe, the moment in their lives they really came to believe that Freedom isn't Free.
Imagine if you can, 48 young men and women walking along the road of the beautiful National Cemetery, single file with the symmetry of white headstones to the right and left of them for as far as the eye can see. In the distance, coming toward them is a horse pulling a caisson with a flag draped casket, full military honor guard, people walking to the rear of the caisson and a black limousine. The tour guide, who has buried her son with full military honors just a year ago, will be the first to meet the funeral procession as it stops just feet away from the group of students.
We have just become participants in the funeral of a fallen soldier. We stand there while the family leaves the limo and walks up the hill to the grave site. I hold HM as the salt of her soul cascades like a waterfall down her face and her legs grow weak beneath her. She growls through clenched teeth, "I need this like I need a damn hole in my head." But she stands there and watches with rapt attention and respect as another buries a son or daughter.
I am aware of my kids and wonder what must be going through their minds. We all listen as the minister speaks his words of comfort to the family. We stand completely still as the flag is removed from the coffin, snapped and folded with precision and care and handed to a woman in the front row. Who is she? The mother, wife...and then we are dismissed to continue on our way...like nothing has just happened.
I am too stunned to speak. My kids are too stunned to say anything. Again there are tears. We are not too far down the road before we are startled by gunfire. Again, there are no words. We all know what it means. Freedom isn't Free...they have seen it first hand. I can't help but to believe they are forever changed by what they have witnessed. I know I am.
Our trip comes to an end after our day in Arlington. It is time to bid our dear sweet guide farewell. She has made a lasting impression on us all. For us, she is living proof of the sacrifice one family has made for our country. She carries her sacrifice with dignity and grace and we all thanked not only for her time with us but for her son....her Shane. She is humbled and leaves us in tears. It has been a very emotional day for us all.
We begin our journey back home. As I am trying to process what has happened on this day with my students, what they have seen, what they have heard, what they have been part of...we talk of heroes, we talk of our freedom, we talk of our great country and the attacks of 911 and the sacrifices our men and women in uniform are currently making...Our driver hearing our conversations and stories has an idea. "You know we go right past the exit to Shanksville...it is only about an hour off the highway." I respond with, "Are you suggesting we visit the Flight 93 crash site?" "Yea," he says, 'It would put us home a little late but not too bad."
Doesn't take me long to decide we are going on a detour. What better way to wrap up this trip than to take these kids to another one of the greatest memorials in the history of the United States. Another place to drive home the idea that Freedom isn't Free. A place where they can learn that heroes are not just those who wear uniforms. A place where more life long memories are made.
We arrive before just before the sun begins to set. There is no one else there. 48 students exit a bus without a sound. It is eerily quiet. They scatter in different directions looking at the plaques, stones and memorabilia left by the thousands that have visited. Some take pictures, others just stand and stare out toward the tree lined field.
The scars on the land have healed. The grass is green and the trees are full of leaves. I imagine the fire and the wreckage as it must have looked on that day. I wonder who I would have called had it been me at the window of the small farmhouse on the hill. I wonder what it must have sounded like. How helpless I would have felt. I pose these thoughts to some of the kids. They just stare ahead.
I have to remind myself...they were only seven when it happened. Most of them second graders. I then wonder what they remember of that fateful day. Did they have a clue of how their world would change? Did they even realize what their world was like before 911? How different we are now was the thought that ran through my mind.
I am dazed with my thoughts when a young lady interrupts me, "do you have a marker? We want to write something on the guardrail." We find one. They go to work. When they have completed their thought they stand back and show me what they have done...it is at this point I know I have done my job. This has not been just another eighth grade trip to Washington D.C it has been a life lesson...a lesson that will stay with them forever. For this is what they wrote:
This is my second trip to D.C. with a group of eighth graders. We are being escorted by a wonderful guide. HM and I bonded the first year we were together and I refuse to have any other guide but her. She is simply amazing! She has to be the strongest woman I know and she is my hero.
At this moment we are on our way to the Iwo Jima Memorial. It is a personal favorite of mine. I love the memorial and the story behind it. A victory for our nation, but also a victory for the men who fought a battle against an enemy they couldn't see. A victory that seemed near impossible to win.
As we get closer to the monument, HM hands out six cards to six different students and asks them to read aloud what is on each of the cards. As each student reads from her card the bus becomes quiet. The voices of the chosen readers sing out:
Sgt. Mike Strank - gave the orders to find a pole, attach the flag and "put'er up!" He was killed March 1, 1945 on Mount Suribachi when he was hit by a mortar. Sgt. Strank is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Freedom isn't Free.
Harlon Block - was Sgt. Strank's second-in-command. He took over the leadership of his unit when the Sgt. Mike was killed. Harlon was killed just hours later at the age of 21. Harlon is buried beside the Iwo Jima Monument in Harlingen, Texas. Freedom isn't Free.
Franklin Sousley - enlisted at 17 and sailed for the Pacific on his 18th birthday. Franklin died on Iwo Jima on March 21rst. He was 19. Franklin is buried at Elizaville Cemetery, Kentucky. Freedom isn't Free.
Ira Hayes - was a Pima Indian. Ira was a dedicated Marine who was admired by his fellow Marines. He died at the age of 32 from alcoholism. Freedom isn't Free.
Rene Gagnon -was the soldier who carried the flag up Mt. Suribachi. He was the first survivor to arrive back in the US. Rene was modest about his achievement throughout his life. He is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Freedom isn't Free.
John Bradley was a Navy Corpsmen and won the Navy Cross for heroism. He never thought of himself as a hero and led an intensely private life. He died in 1994 leaving a wife of 47 years and eight children. Freedom isn't Free.
As I watch the faces of my boys and girls, I know they have understood the graveness of the words and the meaning behind them. All is quiet and reverent as the words are being read. As the final card is being related to those around her, the young lady stumbles over the words and a nervous giggle escapes her.
HM jumps as if a her body has been jolted with a current of electricity. Her head snaps toward the young lady and she gasps in a low desperate voice, "Do you think that is funny? Do you think freedom is free? Well let me tell you something, it isn't!" And she turns away from the young girl, her face ashen.
There is an awkward silence on the bus. A tension so thick and palatable no one dares move. The kids do not understand what has just happened. The little girl doesn't know what she has done. I however do. And it isn't her fault. She could not have known. It is not the time to talk about it. We need to wait. So we make the rest of the trip in silence letting what has just happened toil in our minds.
Before HM exits at her stop that evening, she and I talked about the next day's schedule. Arlington National Cemetery is on the event list. There is planning to do. There will be a wreath laying at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Two of our students have relatives buried in the cemetery and we want to locate those grave sites for them. That will take some coordinating. We also will visit the Faces of the Fallen exhibit. HM will not go there with us this year either.
Arlington is a difficult place to be in peace time...HM and I discuss what it may be like now that our country is at war and how to prepare our children. We also talk about how I am to prepare for one other thing:
Lucy: HM I will tell the students about Shane when you get off the bus tonight. Is that okay with you?
Hm: Yes...but please use his name. I want people to remember his name.
HM's Shane...her only son. The father of her two grandchildren. The light of her life. The son who left for his second tour of Iraq and never came back. This is never easy for us. Two mothers having a conversation about a dead child. The pain we both feel is overwhelming. I hurt for her... although I can see she is better than last year.
Last year...he has been dead less than three weeks and buried less than two and she was taking a tour of eighth graders around D.C. I don't know where she got the strength to do it. But she did and she did it with grace and dignity and she did it with a smile most of the time. She walked that cemetery with us and stood in front of those graves after just burying her child...and when I asked her how she did it she said, "why my Shane would have wanted me to. He would not have wanted me to sit and cry and do nothing. I do it for him." That is why she is my hero.
So HM left the bus and I asked the kids if they might listen to me for a moment and I took them back to the afternoon's event:
"Courtney, when you were reading about your soldier today and you messed up and giggled, were you confused when HM got upset with you?" She just nodded. "I need to explain something to you all. You all know tomorrow we are going to go to Arlington National Cemetery and you all know that this is a place of respect and reverence right?" More nods. "No horsing around, decent clothes, respectful behavior, no loud voices. You know how to behave. Break these rules and there will be serious consequences. This is not the place to screw up!" Eyes are wide at this point.
With that all said, back to HM. Remember what it said at the end of each card? Freedom isn't Free. HM has paid the ultimate price for freedom, she gave up her only son. Her son Shane, she wants you to remember his name. Shane went to Iraq and was killed just one year ago. He left behind his parents, a sister, a wife and two very young children. So you can see why HM got so upset when she thought you were laughing at that phrase, because she paid dearly for our freedom."
I am crying, as are most of the students. They finally understand her reaction and are okay with what happened. They ask me questions. Some I can answer and some I can't. They want to know how he died. I tell them maybe HM will talk to them about Shane in the morning. I don't know if she will. I don't know if she is that strong yet.
The morning arrives and we load the bus. The kids are reserved. It seems many have thought about HM and her son. They are still curious and wonder if she will talk about him. We travel to the prearranged pick-up site and HM boards our bus. She is all smiles as usual. Today she is wearing Shane's dog tags and her Gold Star Mother's pin. The kids notice immediately. I tell her I have spoken with them and they would like her to tell them more about Shane.
She stands and takes the microphone in her hand and tries to begin. But before words can form in her mouth she sits back down and hands the microphone to me. Instantly, tears are falling on her cheeks and she puts her hand over her mouth, 'I can't', the words come out in a whisper. I explain to the kids that she is unable to talk of him...it is too painful. There are cheeks damp with tears elsewhere on the bus as well.
Arlington...how does one talk about one of the most sacred places in the United States? I have been here three times and every time it has been different. This time however is by far the most profound. It will forever, I believe, be burned in the memory of 48 young minds for the rest of their lives. It is also, I believe, the moment in their lives they really came to believe that Freedom isn't Free.
Imagine if you can, 48 young men and women walking along the road of the beautiful National Cemetery, single file with the symmetry of white headstones to the right and left of them for as far as the eye can see. In the distance, coming toward them is a horse pulling a caisson with a flag draped casket, full military honor guard, people walking to the rear of the caisson and a black limousine. The tour guide, who has buried her son with full military honors just a year ago, will be the first to meet the funeral procession as it stops just feet away from the group of students.
We have just become participants in the funeral of a fallen soldier. We stand there while the family leaves the limo and walks up the hill to the grave site. I hold HM as the salt of her soul cascades like a waterfall down her face and her legs grow weak beneath her. She growls through clenched teeth, "I need this like I need a damn hole in my head." But she stands there and watches with rapt attention and respect as another buries a son or daughter.
I am aware of my kids and wonder what must be going through their minds. We all listen as the minister speaks his words of comfort to the family. We stand completely still as the flag is removed from the coffin, snapped and folded with precision and care and handed to a woman in the front row. Who is she? The mother, wife...and then we are dismissed to continue on our way...like nothing has just happened.
I am too stunned to speak. My kids are too stunned to say anything. Again there are tears. We are not too far down the road before we are startled by gunfire. Again, there are no words. We all know what it means. Freedom isn't Free...they have seen it first hand. I can't help but to believe they are forever changed by what they have witnessed. I know I am.
Our trip comes to an end after our day in Arlington. It is time to bid our dear sweet guide farewell. She has made a lasting impression on us all. For us, she is living proof of the sacrifice one family has made for our country. She carries her sacrifice with dignity and grace and we all thanked not only for her time with us but for her son....her Shane. She is humbled and leaves us in tears. It has been a very emotional day for us all.
We begin our journey back home. As I am trying to process what has happened on this day with my students, what they have seen, what they have heard, what they have been part of...we talk of heroes, we talk of our freedom, we talk of our great country and the attacks of 911 and the sacrifices our men and women in uniform are currently making...Our driver hearing our conversations and stories has an idea. "You know we go right past the exit to Shanksville...it is only about an hour off the highway." I respond with, "Are you suggesting we visit the Flight 93 crash site?" "Yea," he says, 'It would put us home a little late but not too bad."
Doesn't take me long to decide we are going on a detour. What better way to wrap up this trip than to take these kids to another one of the greatest memorials in the history of the United States. Another place to drive home the idea that Freedom isn't Free. A place where they can learn that heroes are not just those who wear uniforms. A place where more life long memories are made.
We arrive before just before the sun begins to set. There is no one else there. 48 students exit a bus without a sound. It is eerily quiet. They scatter in different directions looking at the plaques, stones and memorabilia left by the thousands that have visited. Some take pictures, others just stand and stare out toward the tree lined field.
The scars on the land have healed. The grass is green and the trees are full of leaves. I imagine the fire and the wreckage as it must have looked on that day. I wonder who I would have called had it been me at the window of the small farmhouse on the hill. I wonder what it must have sounded like. How helpless I would have felt. I pose these thoughts to some of the kids. They just stare ahead.
I have to remind myself...they were only seven when it happened. Most of them second graders. I then wonder what they remember of that fateful day. Did they have a clue of how their world would change? Did they even realize what their world was like before 911? How different we are now was the thought that ran through my mind.
I am dazed with my thoughts when a young lady interrupts me, "do you have a marker? We want to write something on the guardrail." We find one. They go to work. When they have completed their thought they stand back and show me what they have done...it is at this point I know I have done my job. This has not been just another eighth grade trip to Washington D.C it has been a life lesson...a lesson that will stay with them forever. For this is what they wrote:
911 DO NOT EVER FORGET!
HONOR THOSE WHO DIED!
HONOR THOSE WHO FIGHT TO KEEP US FREE!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
HS:MS "Purple"
"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somehwere and don't notice it" Alice Walker
Monday, September 8, 2008
Ruby Tuesday - Ruby Ice
This photo was taken on the Island of Maui on the highway to Hana or as I like to call it, the highway to hell. While the scenery was gorgeous, the drive was grueling. I added a link so you can read about it if you so choose. We stopped at an Hawaiian Ice stand at about half way point and had some refreshing cool ice. Doesn't it look yummy!
HS:MS 'SWEET'
Her Space My Space is another photography blog that uses a daily word as a way to give bloggers a chance to express themselves through photographs. I am going to try take part in this occasionally. I don't think I will do so daily but who knows....
Today's word is Sweet...I am posting two photos.
My first experience with fondant. It is very sweet!
This is George...He is incredibly sweet
Today's word is Sweet...I am posting two photos.
My first experience with fondant. It is very sweet!
This is George...He is incredibly sweetManic Monday - Juice
Precious 'Juice'"... For reasons long forgotten, two mighty warrior tribes went to war and touched off a blaze which engulfed them all. Without fuel, they were nothing." Road Warriors (Mad Max II)
A special thanks to my husband who inspires me
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