U.S. Rep. Mark Foley, R-Fla., resigned after being confronted with sexually explicit computer messages he’d sent to former House pages.
From the Associated Press
This is relavent because THIS is the reason the Democrats were able to take control of the U.S. House of Represenatives in 2006. This scandal, and revelations that then-GOP Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert was trying to keep it low-key or even cover it up, made the electorate sick to their stomach.
Democrats didn't have any kind of a mandate to do what they wanted to do. The voters wanted to throw the bums in control out. At the time, those were the Republicans.
They might have had a bit of a mandate in 2008, with Obama's election. But they squandered it.
This is the most politically inept White House — politically — possibly ever.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
VIDEO: Irreverant, but not heretical (I hope) at the Eucharistic Congress
So the Catholic Diocese of Charlotte held a Eucharistic Congress. Tens of thousands attended. A procession started right outside The Charlotte Observer.
It chose not to cover the event. At all. You'd think they'd at least be wondering what 10,000 people were doing outside their front door on a Saturday morning, since, if you miss the crosses an incense, a procession looks remarkably like a march.
I sent this email to Rick Thames, the editor:
Anyway. That's the serious commentary
• I made a few wisecracks while there.
My wife's receptionist Denyse said that she saw a certain priest in the procession. I said I had heard a lot about him, but I'd never met him so I wouldn't recognize him.
She said, "He's in black."
"A priest in black is really going to stand out here," I said.
• My lovely bride also set me up pretty good. I walked around the vendor booths, and with the exception of a lady selling a cook book, they seemed to all have Christian/Catholic themes. Some were info booths. Some were merchants.
When I got back from making a loop to the right, my wife asked, "Did you see any crosses?"
I had said I would buy her a certain cross that she likes if I saw it. But she didn't say, "Did you see the cross?"
She said, "Did you see any crosses?"
I said, "You can't spit in this place without hitting a cross."
That's probably borderline heresy, come to think of it. But God gave me my sense of humor.
• When the procession came through, you were supposed to kneel. I leaned on a table that I wrongly thought had rubber-tipped legs to get back up, and it slid about 3 inches, causing me to slip a little, and I twisted my ankle.
Some weekends, the bowing and rising at mass is the only exercise I get. But the danger inherent in kneeling at a Eucharistic Congress in the Charlotte Convention Center has me wondering about conversion to a less bow-y version of the faith.
I would accept the supremacy of the See of Rome and all that. Just a Catholicism that is not potentially going to put me in crutches. If it's out there, let me know.
• The procession made its way through the convention center throughout the day. I didn't think, however, that escalators were in the rubrics.
Edit: Here's the video I promised. It's raw. I'll see if I can get it into an editor and smooth it out some. later.:
The note I posted with the video says this: The procession of the Eucharist through the the Eucharistic Congress in Charlotte NC, Sept. 24, 2011. I consider it a "liturgical irony" that the procession carried the host on the escalator.
Watch any movie with a scene of the Crucifixion, and they almost always have a stair well or two that Jesus must travel to get to Golgotha. He didn't get to ride an escalator.
It chose not to cover the event. At all. You'd think they'd at least be wondering what 10,000 people were doing outside their front door on a Saturday morning, since, if you miss the crosses an incense, a procession looks remarkably like a march.
I sent this email to Rick Thames, the editor:
Would the definition of local news include news that happens about 10 feet from your door?We'll post any answer he makes.
Why did no one from The Observer cover the Eucharistic Congress on Friday or Saturday?
There were 10,000 people in the streets outside your office on a procession (you could call it a march if you like). 10,000 plus. Probably more.
One of the main speakers at the event was a main Third World Catholic Cardinal, said to have been in the running for pope the last go-around? How is THAT not newsworthy?
I'm an award-winning journalist myself and I cannot justify or explain your lack of even just a perfunctory photo.
Some Catholics believe the "mainstream media" have an anti-Catholic and/or anti-Christian bias. I can't defend journalism in the face of such a stunning failure on your part. I can't fathom it. It's either laziness, or it is indeed a bias.
Please explain.
Anyway. That's the serious commentary
• I made a few wisecracks while there.
My wife's receptionist Denyse said that she saw a certain priest in the procession. I said I had heard a lot about him, but I'd never met him so I wouldn't recognize him.
She said, "He's in black."
"A priest in black is really going to stand out here," I said.
• My lovely bride also set me up pretty good. I walked around the vendor booths, and with the exception of a lady selling a cook book, they seemed to all have Christian/Catholic themes. Some were info booths. Some were merchants.
When I got back from making a loop to the right, my wife asked, "Did you see any crosses?"
I had said I would buy her a certain cross that she likes if I saw it. But she didn't say, "Did you see the cross?"
She said, "Did you see any crosses?"
I said, "You can't spit in this place without hitting a cross."
That's probably borderline heresy, come to think of it. But God gave me my sense of humor.
• When the procession came through, you were supposed to kneel. I leaned on a table that I wrongly thought had rubber-tipped legs to get back up, and it slid about 3 inches, causing me to slip a little, and I twisted my ankle.
Some weekends, the bowing and rising at mass is the only exercise I get. But the danger inherent in kneeling at a Eucharistic Congress in the Charlotte Convention Center has me wondering about conversion to a less bow-y version of the faith.
I would accept the supremacy of the See of Rome and all that. Just a Catholicism that is not potentially going to put me in crutches. If it's out there, let me know.
• The procession made its way through the convention center throughout the day. I didn't think, however, that escalators were in the rubrics.
Edit: Here's the video I promised. It's raw. I'll see if I can get it into an editor and smooth it out some. later.:
The note I posted with the video says this: The procession of the Eucharist through the the Eucharistic Congress in Charlotte NC, Sept. 24, 2011. I consider it a "liturgical irony" that the procession carried the host on the escalator.
Watch any movie with a scene of the Crucifixion, and they almost always have a stair well or two that Jesus must travel to get to Golgotha. He didn't get to ride an escalator.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Blast from the past: Flashing back to my baby's birth
I thought I was going to have Internet access at the hospital when my baby was born, but the maternity ward wasn't wired. I started a little log of what was going on -- while Patricia slept -- and played CDs on my laptop to give her something to listen to. But I never had time to follow up and finish. I don't know how long I intended to keep doing this. But it was a one-shot deal.
My lovely bride is, again, snoring. She’s always snored, but it’s gotten heavy with the pregnancy.
Eating for two – ha ha. Good joke. Everyone gets it, and laughs.
She’s been breathing for two for months now. It has put her respiratory system to the test.
We have spent a night of some pain, a bit of unease, and she reached the point of asking for “something” to take the edge off her pain. It was supposed to make her a little woozy, a little drowsy. But she’s out cold.
It is almost 9 a.m. on Friday, Sept. 22.
I have called my family, her family. I have to call her office and get a number to call her boss, let her know.
But our baby is coming. On the way. There’s been no backing out for months now. Never was any backing out, really.
But there’s REALLY no backing out now.
So this wonderful day started with a bit of a bad night. I expected her to be home when I was on my way home, but when I called, she was was still at work. I knew she had thought about going to see the doctor, so I asked if she had. She wanted to wait to tell me later, but I got it out of her.
Her blood pressure was a bit high, and she was cramping a bit more uncomfortably. She was not dilated, so the doctor was afraid of pre-eclampsya. He took some blood and told her to come back Friday.
She went back to the office and got down to finishing up the conversion of her templates from the 25-inch web templates to the 24-inch. Just an inch, but it takes a lot of effort.
I told her to come home, but she wasn’t home until like 9:30 or 10.
She was afraid she was having contractions. She also wanted to eat a bit. I made her an egg salad sandwich, because that requires all of 10 seconds of effort.
When we started timing her contractions, they were around a minute to a minute and half long, and about five to seven minutes apart. The “key” time is to be a minute long, five minutes apart, for an hour.
She'd had a few in the car just like the ones she was having now. And they were at the same level. I started running the watch.
We called the doctor, and he said if she wanted to go to the hospital, it was up to her. She wanted to sleep, and be with the dogs for a little longer. So we watched the Colbert Report, got a few laughs, and tried to sleep.
We went to bed about 1:30 p.m., She woke me about 4. She was ready. She had slept good for a while, but two good contractions had woken her.
It was hard leaving the dogs behind.
We were talking, going along at a good clip for a bit, but when a contraction hit, she said, “Are you at least going the speed limit?”
We triaged, and to both our surprise, Patricia was dilated between 3 and 4 centimeters. Wow.
On the way. The nurse who checked us in, Tia, said it was possible the doctor would send us home, but mostly likely, we’d be here and we’d be having the baby.
Tia got us into the room, but she actually got to helping another woman coming in whose water had broken. She got the woman into the room and the baby just came there. So Manuela came.
Tia had us walking the halls, which is supposed to help the dilation progress. We needed to get to at least 8 centimeters.
We had little progress during the night. At the 7 p.m. shift change, Tia came in and told us goodbye, and what had happened elsewhere in the ward that kept her away for a bit.
During one of our walks, we saw Dean, the guy who runs Fort Mil Automotive, who repaired Patricia’s A/C cheaper than the dealership. His wife was having a C-section.
Funny to meet someone you know.
By about 8 a.m., Patricia had had all the pain she could stand, so she wanted to get a narc. It ended up knocking her out. I made a few calls to Patricia’s work and her family, Tom and Susan.
I had called Catherine, then Anne, getting neither. Catherine called back, talked to me, then Patricia, then me again.
“Whee, we’re having a baby,” she said before hanging up.
(Captain's Log, supplemental, on June 9, 2007: WE?)
She said she was working but could get off by noon. Mom would come with her, it was decided. She called Mom. I expected Mom to call, but she didn’t.
Anne called. I’d left a message. She sang. I can’t even remember what, but it wasn’t one of my favorite songs. But to Anne, it will be the baby’s song for a while. Probably until he/she gets married.
Talked to Mom. She was praying.
Talked to John. He had the day off, and was going to come, do a couple of errands for us that we just didn’t get to. The bases for the baby's car seat needed installing. The dogs needed to be handled, either walked or taken to the Dirty Dog Depot. Probably the latter. And we need Patricia's work key taken to the office. Debbie either had the day off or got off, and is coming with him.
There is no internet access here, and I had promised a bunch of people they’d get an e-mail during the event. Sucks.
It’s almost noon. I need sleep. She will wake up soon, and we’ll see what we see.
Except for the spell check to correct, and the supplemental note in there, that's all that I wrote that night.
I didn't even make a note of what the doctor said when he came. The first one.
Or the bit about the actual doctor who came in and helped Patricia deliver. Her cellphone went off and started playing the Tiger Rag. The doctor didn't understand the horrified, murderous look on my face at first, but when she saw my USC Gamecocks shirt AND hat, she said, "Uh oh, I'm in trouble."
Patricia laughed pretty hard. I had to take my cell phone out, play the USC fight song and remove/exorcise the demon sounds. But I let her proceed.
Other than being a graduate of Clemson at some point in her career, it was actually a pretty good decision.
We had a few other funny bits, but I can't remember them right now, almost nine month later.
(Captain's Log, supplemental -- Here it is, the boy is 3 and a half, and I do remember a good bit. Once the baby was born, they held "it" up, and the doctor, the two nurses and my wife, the ladies, all, just kind of waited. Patricia said, "Well?"
(They had a written plan for what everyone is supposed to do, and one of my few meager tasks was to "announce" the sex of the child. They didn't explain that to me. I thought it meant, tell the world, later on. I thought it was a stupid job, because I didn't imagine Patricia would be making many calls, and I thought I sure would be.
(But that meant, announce in the delivery room. They were waiting on me to say what it was. And for a second, I blanked. There was some, you know, goo, in the area, so I couldn't actually tell.
("A boy?" I said, hesitantly.
(And it was.)
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
On the poor
So there's a new late afternoon radio host on conservative talk radio station WBT, Vince Coakley.
He's not the snarling, foaming-at-the-mouth, rabid conservative mouth that they had with Tara Servatius or her predecessor (can't remember his name). No, Coakley is soft-spoken. BUt he might be more dangerous.
He more readily wears some kind of ID on his shoulder that he is a Christian, but I'm not sure what variety. Certainly not mine.
While attacking something Nancy Pelosi said, he made a statement that, to my ears, said, she wasn't a Christian. But he said more than once, she was a Catholic. It was almost a direct statement, this "Catholic" isn't a Christian. I didn't listen much longer, but nobody seemed interested in correcting it. Well, we are in the South, and it's a Protestant Bible belt.
But again, caught it a little later, and I heard an exchange that went something like this, beginning with a caller who related, in brief, this parable:
OK, that's the whole verse. Now, the caller summed it up, condensed it. But his takeaway was this -- The lazy poor people who are gobbling up government benefits need to be tossed out. They are dragging us all down, and God wants us to take care of ourselves and make MONEY.
The "Christian" host, Mr. Coakley, agreed.
And there you have it. To live their lives, to set their attitude about everything, they depend on just one parable in a book filled with dozens. Some of the other parables have the direct opposite meaning. Some direct quotes of the Jesus both these men purport to follow contradict, absolutely, the message they took away.
The message they heard, the guiding principle they seem to want to apply is, "Fuck the poor."
Hate to use the language, but that's what it boils down to.
Jesus Christ never, ever said, "Let the poor fend for themselves."
Jesus spoke against the rat race when he said God takes care of the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. "How much more are you than they?" he said.
But he never said make money. He never said screw those less fortunate than you.
Jesus said, "If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me."
None of the poor, today, are just handed a million bucks.
The people who are on public assistance have no "talents."
Those to whom God, or life, has given something, sure. Something is expected. But the people on public assistance are those whom life, or God, has given nothing. That's the basic misconception Coakley and the caller have. This parable on which they base their view of the poor actually has nothing to say about the poor in that society ... or our society. They aren't mentioned.
In today's world, the poor are those on public assistance, and they are also the nearly "50 percent" who pay no income tax, according to too many conservatives. They believe it is OK to discard such people, or not think about them at all, or, if you do think about them, deride them and scorn them.
Jesus didn't say, "Fuck the poor."
When he talked about them, he talked about caring for them.
But also, the fundamental misunderstanding held by the host and the caller was that Jesus was actually talking just about money. I don't know when the double entendre became real for the word "talent," but it now also means gifts, skills, abilities.
And that is what Jesus was really talking about. Jesus was not a stock broker or a financial consultant. This was not his "Get rich quick, -- 10 easy steps" program.
If the parable had just its basest meaning, well, then tell me where I can go to get my talent. I am sure if I were handed $1 million, I could make a run at doubling it up.
On the radio and on Fox News, you hear it said that for Obama to propose taxing the rich is "class warfare." But you hear those same people spout off, time and again, about the "lazy" poor who pay nothing.
The rich can take care of themselves. But the rich, or those who have enough, too often in our society, still either attack the poor or nod or just let it go without challenging it. Deluding oneself about what the Bible says is an insidious sign of how deep this goes.
I doubt if anything else can correct someone who does distort the Bible's message. But I'll give it a try.
He's not the snarling, foaming-at-the-mouth, rabid conservative mouth that they had with Tara Servatius or her predecessor (can't remember his name). No, Coakley is soft-spoken. BUt he might be more dangerous.
He more readily wears some kind of ID on his shoulder that he is a Christian, but I'm not sure what variety. Certainly not mine.
While attacking something Nancy Pelosi said, he made a statement that, to my ears, said, she wasn't a Christian. But he said more than once, she was a Catholic. It was almost a direct statement, this "Catholic" isn't a Christian. I didn't listen much longer, but nobody seemed interested in correcting it. Well, we are in the South, and it's a Protestant Bible belt.
But again, caught it a little later, and I heard an exchange that went something like this, beginning with a caller who related, in brief, this parable:
Matthew 25:14-30: New International Version (NIV)
“Again, it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted his wealth to them. To one he gave five bags of gold, to another two bags, and to another one bag, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey.
The man who had received five bags of gold went at once and put his money to work and gained five bags more. So also, the one with two bags of gold gained two more. But the man who had received one bag went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. “After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. The man who had received five bags of gold brought the other five. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with five bags of gold. See, I have gained five more.
“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!
“The man with two bags of gold also came. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with two bags of gold; see, I have gained two more.’
“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’
“Then the man who had received one bag of gold came. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. So I was afraid and went out and hid your gold in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.’
“His master replied, ‘You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed? Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest.
“‘So take the bag of gold from him and give it to the one who has ten bags. For whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them. And throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’"
OK, that's the whole verse. Now, the caller summed it up, condensed it. But his takeaway was this -- The lazy poor people who are gobbling up government benefits need to be tossed out. They are dragging us all down, and God wants us to take care of ourselves and make MONEY.
The "Christian" host, Mr. Coakley, agreed.
And there you have it. To live their lives, to set their attitude about everything, they depend on just one parable in a book filled with dozens. Some of the other parables have the direct opposite meaning. Some direct quotes of the Jesus both these men purport to follow contradict, absolutely, the message they took away.
The message they heard, the guiding principle they seem to want to apply is, "Fuck the poor."
Hate to use the language, but that's what it boils down to.
Jesus Christ never, ever said, "Let the poor fend for themselves."
Jesus spoke against the rat race when he said God takes care of the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. "How much more are you than they?" he said.
But he never said make money. He never said screw those less fortunate than you.
Jesus said, "If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me."
Jesus said, "Truly, I say to you, it will be hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven."
Jesus said, "... when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind. ..."
Back to the parable of the talents, and why both the caller on the show and the host were blindly ignorant to take that meaning away from it.
The rich man gave his wealth to his servants. He expected them to make use of the wealth that they had been given.
But what exactly did he give them? If you reduce this to just money, how much was it worth. One website says this --
Standard talent is equal to seventy-five pounds. The price of gold as of April, 2009 is approximately $900 dollars an ounce. There are 16 ounces in a pound. That means a talent of gold would be worth $1 080 000.
Either calculation suggests that the "lazy" servant is given, in the equivalent money of his day, from $1 million to $2 million.
None of the poor, today, are just handed a million bucks.
The people who are on public assistance have no "talents."
Those to whom God, or life, has given something, sure. Something is expected. But the people on public assistance are those whom life, or God, has given nothing. That's the basic misconception Coakley and the caller have. This parable on which they base their view of the poor actually has nothing to say about the poor in that society ... or our society. They aren't mentioned.
In today's world, the poor are those on public assistance, and they are also the nearly "50 percent" who pay no income tax, according to too many conservatives. They believe it is OK to discard such people, or not think about them at all, or, if you do think about them, deride them and scorn them.
Jesus didn't say, "Fuck the poor."
When he talked about them, he talked about caring for them.
But also, the fundamental misunderstanding held by the host and the caller was that Jesus was actually talking just about money. I don't know when the double entendre became real for the word "talent," but it now also means gifts, skills, abilities.
And that is what Jesus was really talking about. Jesus was not a stock broker or a financial consultant. This was not his "Get rich quick, -- 10 easy steps" program.
If the parable had just its basest meaning, well, then tell me where I can go to get my talent. I am sure if I were handed $1 million, I could make a run at doubling it up.
On the radio and on Fox News, you hear it said that for Obama to propose taxing the rich is "class warfare." But you hear those same people spout off, time and again, about the "lazy" poor who pay nothing.
The rich can take care of themselves. But the rich, or those who have enough, too often in our society, still either attack the poor or nod or just let it go without challenging it. Deluding oneself about what the Bible says is an insidious sign of how deep this goes.
I doubt if anything else can correct someone who does distort the Bible's message. But I'll give it a try.
"I wouldn't give you two cents for all your fancy rules if, behind them, they didn't have a little bit of plain, ordinary, everyday kindness and a - a little lookin' out for the other fella, too. ...That's pretty important, all that. It's just the blood and bone and sinew of this democracy that some great men handed down to the human race, that's all."And
"All you people don't know about lost causes. Mr. Paine does. He said once they were the only causes worth fighting for, and he fought for them once, for the only reason any man ever fights for them: Because of one plain simple rule: Love thy neighbor. And in this world today, full of hatred, a man who knows that one rule has a great trust."
-- Jefferson Smith
Anyway. It's been months since I heard that, and it's been stewing at the back of my brain ever since.
Hey, Vince. Next time, correct your caller.
Jesus did not say screw the poor. He did not tell us how to make money.
Take care of the poor.
Hey, Vince. Next time, correct your caller.
Jesus did not say screw the poor. He did not tell us how to make money.
Take care of the poor.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Wedding Anniversary Polka - YouTube
Wedding Anniversary Polka - YouTube
As of Tuesday, it has been eight years of marriage with my lovely bride.
We went out to a German place in Myrtle Beach, Horst Gasthaus.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Blast from the past: 9/11's other lesson
From The News & Reporter, Sept. 13,2006
We have always had appreciation and respect for what firefighters and emergency medical technicians do.
Firefighters run into burning buildings to save people’s lives, then work as hard as they can to protect people’s property and minimize the disruption that a disaster can bring.
Sometimes it’s paramedic doing advanced medical procedures, while other times, it’s just the speed with which ambulance drivers get injured or sick people to a hospital as fast as possible, but EMTs hold our lives in their hands.
Some of us took them for granted, but others, while appreciating their efforts, fell into the habit of expecting that what they do would get done, somehow, by somebody.
That’s one thing that the tragedies of Sept. 11, 2001 changed, mostly for the better. We’ve learned to look around more often and to say, “Thank you,” to those who protect our lives and property.
Some say emergency personnel are now in the frontline in our war on terrorism. They will be the first called if something happens. It is frightening, but still those folks still step up.
At the same time, we hear, particularly from some volunteer fire departments, that the number of volunteers is dwindling. Our volunteers need help and backup.
The Richburg Fire Department has many volunteers, but too many work so far away during the day they cannot respond, or cannot respond in time, to emergencies. The department last year averaged slightly more than a call a day. It is now a tax district and will within the year begin hiring a few paid professionals to work the day shift, to bridge that gap. But it is stretched, now.
The Lando Fire Department is putting the finishing touches on a new station in Edgemoor, its main station. It has been built big not just to accommodate the trucks that are getting bigger and bigger.
It will have beds and showers so that crews can stay overnight at the fire station. The chief and the fire board hope the new station attracts more volunteers from the community.
We applaud the department and fire board for their work in bringing the station,more than a decade in the making, to fruition.
The Chester Rescue Squad sold barbecue on Labor Day weekend. It is staffed entirely by volunteers. When we went by the preparation, we saw a healthy dose of younger members.
But the squad needs a new rescue truck — the current truck is both old and overloaded.
The squad is raising $100,000 the hard way — one plate of barbecue at a time.
It is good to say thank you to those volunteers. But just saying thank you isn’t enough. If you’re able-bodied and have the time, consider volunteering. If you don’t have the time, but have the means, donate to your local squad or to your local fire department.
They risk their lives to save ours. They deserve more than thanks.
We have always had appreciation and respect for what firefighters and emergency medical technicians do.
Firefighters run into burning buildings to save people’s lives, then work as hard as they can to protect people’s property and minimize the disruption that a disaster can bring.
Sometimes it’s paramedic doing advanced medical procedures, while other times, it’s just the speed with which ambulance drivers get injured or sick people to a hospital as fast as possible, but EMTs hold our lives in their hands.
Some of us took them for granted, but others, while appreciating their efforts, fell into the habit of expecting that what they do would get done, somehow, by somebody.
That’s one thing that the tragedies of Sept. 11, 2001 changed, mostly for the better. We’ve learned to look around more often and to say, “Thank you,” to those who protect our lives and property.
Some say emergency personnel are now in the frontline in our war on terrorism. They will be the first called if something happens. It is frightening, but still those folks still step up.
At the same time, we hear, particularly from some volunteer fire departments, that the number of volunteers is dwindling. Our volunteers need help and backup.
The Richburg Fire Department has many volunteers, but too many work so far away during the day they cannot respond, or cannot respond in time, to emergencies. The department last year averaged slightly more than a call a day. It is now a tax district and will within the year begin hiring a few paid professionals to work the day shift, to bridge that gap. But it is stretched, now.
The Lando Fire Department is putting the finishing touches on a new station in Edgemoor, its main station. It has been built big not just to accommodate the trucks that are getting bigger and bigger.
It will have beds and showers so that crews can stay overnight at the fire station. The chief and the fire board hope the new station attracts more volunteers from the community.
We applaud the department and fire board for their work in bringing the station,more than a decade in the making, to fruition.
The Chester Rescue Squad sold barbecue on Labor Day weekend. It is staffed entirely by volunteers. When we went by the preparation, we saw a healthy dose of younger members.
But the squad needs a new rescue truck — the current truck is both old and overloaded.
The squad is raising $100,000 the hard way — one plate of barbecue at a time.
It is good to say thank you to those volunteers. But just saying thank you isn’t enough. If you’re able-bodied and have the time, consider volunteering. If you don’t have the time, but have the means, donate to your local squad or to your local fire department.
They risk their lives to save ours. They deserve more than thanks.
Blast from the past: Volunteering a way of life for some
All year you have to beg people to give blood. Yesterday the man at St. Vincent’s asks the crowd to please stand in line and not be impatient.
There is a wonderful spirit of volunteerism in America right now.
Newsday columnist Jimmy Breslin puts it in perspective, and we want to take it a step further.
Americans respond admirably to a tragedy. Right now, we can’t think of a tragedy in recent history whose scope matches the intentional plane collisions of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the crash of a hijacked plane almost certainly on a similar murder/suicide
mission.
All around the country, people send their sympathies and beg to help out. A firefighter living in Myrtle Beach, originally from New York City, whose son still lives in New York City, took three other Myrtle Beach firefighters with him to help. Volunteers from all over the country have come to New York to assist in removing debris.
So many have come, in fact, that most are being turned away. People in the country have been trying to help out most by donating blood.
There was a blood drive in Allendale County last week. It had been planned before the terrorist attack. The Red Cross brought enough supplies for 50 donors, thinking it would not need that many. The Bloodmobile ran out.
Nationally, possibly for the first time ever, the nation’s blood supplies are full. So many people were donating blood that they too were turned away. Donated blood can be kept for 45 days. In a few weeks, it will be time to collect a new 45 day supply.
There will be a blood drive in our parking lot Nov. 1. The People-Sentinel, is partnering with the Shepeard Community Blood Center and Barnwell County Hospital.
We hope as many people and more turn up here as turned up in Allendale. The tragedy will be months in the past then, but people shouldn’t forget.
All this, we think, is a sign of the goodness and the volunteer spirit that lies in all Americans – it is a sure sign of why we’ll win the war on terrorism once launched.
But we also want to remind people of an article in last week’s paper. We wrote about Billy Jean Sprawls of Williston, who received a state then a national award for her volunteerism. She received it before the attacks.
The people rushing to donate and volunteer are to be commended for their response to this tragedy. What then can you say about a person such as Sprawls?
For her, volunteerism isn’t a response, it’s not a reaction. She’s pro-active. For her, helping out is a round-the-clock way of life. People in the area should be proud to have such a neighbor to set an example for us.
–– Jimmy Breslin
Newsday Columnist
Sept. 12, 2001
Newsday Columnist
Sept. 12, 2001
Newsday columnist Jimmy Breslin puts it in perspective, and we want to take it a step further.
Americans respond admirably to a tragedy. Right now, we can’t think of a tragedy in recent history whose scope matches the intentional plane collisions of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the crash of a hijacked plane almost certainly on a similar murder/suicide
mission.
All around the country, people send their sympathies and beg to help out. A firefighter living in Myrtle Beach, originally from New York City, whose son still lives in New York City, took three other Myrtle Beach firefighters with him to help. Volunteers from all over the country have come to New York to assist in removing debris.
So many have come, in fact, that most are being turned away. People in the country have been trying to help out most by donating blood.
There was a blood drive in Allendale County last week. It had been planned before the terrorist attack. The Red Cross brought enough supplies for 50 donors, thinking it would not need that many. The Bloodmobile ran out.
Nationally, possibly for the first time ever, the nation’s blood supplies are full. So many people were donating blood that they too were turned away. Donated blood can be kept for 45 days. In a few weeks, it will be time to collect a new 45 day supply.
There will be a blood drive in our parking lot Nov. 1. The People-Sentinel, is partnering with the Shepeard Community Blood Center and Barnwell County Hospital.
We hope as many people and more turn up here as turned up in Allendale. The tragedy will be months in the past then, but people shouldn’t forget.
All this, we think, is a sign of the goodness and the volunteer spirit that lies in all Americans – it is a sure sign of why we’ll win the war on terrorism once launched.
But we also want to remind people of an article in last week’s paper. We wrote about Billy Jean Sprawls of Williston, who received a state then a national award for her volunteerism. She received it before the attacks.
The people rushing to donate and volunteer are to be commended for their response to this tragedy. What then can you say about a person such as Sprawls?
For her, volunteerism isn’t a response, it’s not a reaction. She’s pro-active. For her, helping out is a round-the-clock way of life. People in the area should be proud to have such a neighbor to set an example for us.
Blast from the past: Yesterday, September 11th, 2001
On Sept. 11, 2001, I had more to say than normal, which is saying a lot. In addition to our regular editorial, I wrote the below special editorial. I also wanted to send another message, stronger than the cautionary editorial, so I created this editorial cartoon. Wish the cartoon had been more accurate.
A great speech once firmed up a nation’s resolve and made Americans take on their greatest task.
We adapt that speech to yesterday’s happenings to give a cautious perspective on what has happened.
“Yesterday, September 11th, 2001, the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by ...”
That’s where we have to come to a dead halt.
Live on CNN and other networks, live via streaming video on the Internet, we saw what might be this generation’s Pearl Harbor. America is at war, but we must ask the honest question – with whom?
The attack almost 60 years ago that catapulted the United States into World War II with its firm resolve was a sneak attack. But the “naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan” that sneaked under our guard each carried the blazon of the Rising Sun. We knew Japan had done the deed and directed our righteous rage there.
The planes that crashed into the World Trade Center, collapsing both towers, were just as sneaky, just as “dastardly.”
But they were unmarked.
As of this writing, it is too soon to know who did the deed. A million petty groups with imagined gripes against the United States will claim the “credit” for this slaughter of innocents.
We are not warning against anger. We must feel anger at an attack on our seat of government, and a military command center. We should feel a justified rage, a righteous sense of indignation, in the attack on the World Trade Center. That was an assault on civilians, innocents people just trying to do a normal day’s work.
But let us hold off our anger and our response until we know for sure where to direct our anger.
After the bombing of the Federal Building in Oklahoma, many quickly assumed crazy Islamic fundamentalists did a deed actually done by home grown terrorists.
It is not so illogical an assumption this time. The World Trade Center has been attacked before by Islamic fundamentalists.
But until we know for sure who did this, do not utter a word against any group. When the attackers are identified, do not lump the extremists who did such a deed in with others who share the terrorist’s religion or race.
Sixty years later, Roosevelt’s words are still a panacea. “Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory. … Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces -- with the unbounded determination of our people -- we will gain the inevitable triumph -- so help us God.”
Blast from the past: Everybody should go to New York
A year ago today, I was on my way to work. I was about to turn off the radio when I heard someone call up WDOG and say, "A plane hit the World Trade Center in New York. It's on CNN."
So instead of going to work on time, I turned on the television and watched. I saw black smoke billowing from one tower in a far off shot. Then I saw the second plane hit, and I knew, as everyone did. We were at war. With whom, I didn't know, but I was certain, we were at war.
I was born in the Bronx, and some of my greatest childhood memories were of going to the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. I had pictures that I had taken on visits as an adult. I used to have a city planning book, huge, from the '60s, when the World Trade Center was just a plan, an ambitious dream for the future. I had framed aerial pictures of Lower Manhattan that my father bought and later gave to me. I went home and got my personal pictures and the framed tourist photos, and used them to illustrate our coverage, done on deadline.
The photo to the left is not one of mine. A few weeks after the tragedy, Wynell Sullivan of Blackville came and brought them to me, saying she had been on a trip to New York City in 1997. This particular shot was taken from a tour boat in the Hudson River.
It was a great, clear day and she had a good camera. My personal shots were taken on a hazy day with a disposable camera. But we were done with our 9/11 coverage, I told her then, I couldn't use them then. But keep them out, I said. I'll find a way to use them/
Wynell's son works in New York. Like anyone who knew anybody in New York, she got in touch as soon as possible with her son. He wasn't in New York, but she had to talk to him about it.
She was awed by the energy and noise of the city on her first visit, she said. Not only did she see the World Trade Center from the harbor, she went to the top with her son, husband and in-laws.
Everybody should go to New York City one time, she said last week when I talked to her about her trip and her pictures.
She's going back, soon.
Like me, she was listening to WDOG when she heard about it.
"I turned on the TV and was shut to the TV for several days after that, like everybody, I guess," she said.
And she remembered.
"It was amazing to be at the World Trade Center," she said. She remembers standing in line for a long time, going through tight security.
Her son was in Texas visiting his in-laws instead of working in New York. He was supposed to go back Sept. 12, but flights were delayed because airports were shut down. When he got back to New York, he volunteered for a time with the American Red Cross.
"It doesn't seem like a year," Wynell said. "Not quite like a year. Seems longer than that."
I know exactly what she feels. I've lived most of my life in South Carolina, yet I was born in New York. You can't take the New York out of this New Yorker.
I always want to go back. But the obsession is gone, and won't be back for a while. I think it's tied up with what's happening in New York City, where they cannot agree upon what to do with the 16 acres on which the Twin Towers once stood. We all know it is an unidentified problem. I think I know what the real problem is.
"There is a hole in reality, in our minds' reality. The hole is 1,300 feet tall, it's shaped like two buildings. Everytime we look at the skyline, we don't see what's there. We clearly see what isn't there. We lose a tiny bit of pride each time we look.
Some people say we can't build the towers back, because we'd be building where more than 3,000 died. But there are no tombs there. The two square buildings were built on one square block diagonally across from each other on the corners, like a checkerboard. We could put up two more buildings on the site with neither sited where the others were formerly sited.
I think they shouldn't build a memorial until about 10 years have passed.
But they need to build the Twin Towers back. They need to build them back on the site, but not the exact same location. They need to be as tall or taller.
The only way to fill the hole in our psyche is to fill it full again. No half measures. Some say they were signs of American arrogance. Many who said such things are those who hijacked the planes or supported those that did. Other countries have built taller structures since, yet they are not accused of arrogance. None of those countries attempted to build anything like it before America proved it could be done.
The Twin Towers ‑ I always took pride in those buildings. They were a testament to what America could accomplish.
We can't decide on what to do, and we can't agree on a national course, because when we look where they were, when we see the gaping hole in our memories, we can't deal with it.
Such buildings were once considered an impossible dream. People said the planners dreamed too big. But, it turned out, the dream was possible. Just by being there, the buildings told us anything we dreamed was possible.
Sept. 11, 2001 was a nightmare by any definition of the word, but not only did it steal the dream we made a reality, but it seems to have stripped us of our will to dream again and to dream big. We shouldn't let that happen. It was horrific, but we have to remember the thugs who did this, who now take delight in our unwillingness to dream, did something that required little thought, a little devilish inspiration and a monstrous helping of inhumanity.
The act of building the Towers, however, was an act of genius, inspiration and courage.
Wynell Sullivan was right.
It doesn't seem like a year. Before then, we lived in a time when Americans dreamed big and anything was possible. It seems so far off. It seems like a lifetime has passed for the survivors.
Blast from the past: Pipes play funeral songs of courage, defiance
From The People Sentinel, Sept. 19, 2001 edition
People were starting to turn away from their television sets on Saturday.
Four days of being bombarded wih image after image began to be too much.
So maybe they missed the first of many, many funerals we will be watching in the months to come.
A funeral mass was held for Father Mychal Judge, a Franciscan priest, chaplain to the New York City Fire Department. The New York City Police Department’s Emerald Society, a band of bagpipers, played. They played the easily recognized Amazing Grace. They played other pipe tunes.
As they brought his casket in to the church, however, they played a particular tune, an Irish tune. It wasn’t religious, which one might play for a priest.
He was Irish, and it was Irish.
I was talking to a friend about it. He said his sister-in-law and her husband were OK. He did it to stop me, because I forgot, and so forgot to ask. They live in Washington D.C. and work in government.
I had been focusing on New York, of course.
But again, the attack is so far-reaching. I don’t know why I always make these things personal. But this is personal.
Those that did this evil not only jarred my present. They have stolen something magical from my past, and robbed a bit of my future.
I was a Boy Scout, and my brother was still a Cub Scout. The pack rented a bus and drove downtown. We went to the World Trade Center, went up to the observation deck, went up to roof, which has an observation tower. We touched the clouds.
We went to a fire station downtown as well. An old one, I believe it was fire company 10, a hook and ladder company. It was an old station kept in active service. There I learned for the first time the real hazard of firemen, and learned what firemen do when they hit a place on fire.
Head to the top. The sooner they get to the top, they can open up the roof to get in as much water as possible. Running through flames, they head to the top.
We went to the Statue of Liberty as well. We also went up to 27th and Lexington Avenue, to the National Guard Armory. It is the armory of a storied regiment, an Irish regiment, the Fighting 69th. The 69th fought in the Civil War, fought in World War I. My father,when he was in the National Guard, was in the unit before transferring to the Air Force.
They didn’t sing it, just played it slowly on the pipes. But I know the tune, I have the words.
It is a song of courage and defiance called the Minstrel Boy.
I don’t think I have yet really dealt with the attack on the United States, and particularly the destruction of the World Trade Center.
The attack is so far reaching. We still are just guessing how many people have been killed and injured in both places. But the attack hit the fabric of our lives in other ways. Sports games were cancelled, but thankfully, our local boys played on, giving some a break from horror.
Sooner or later, you will probably find someone you know who was there, near there, or someone you know knows someone. It will hit you.
Yesterday, I got through to my cousin Jimmy’s wife Molly. They had no business being anywhere near the World Trade Center and weren’t. But people kept asking. Jimmy works in Midtown Manhattan, so he shouldn’t get that far downtown. Until yesterday, who knew?
The little fire house was in the shadow of the World Trade Center. It is not shadowed any more. The armory has become a center for people to come to get information about those lost and those fallen and those still missing.
The Twin Towers are gone.
I’m at a point now when I don’t think I will ever move back to New York City, but you never know. I always planned to return, someday, with any kids I may be lucky enough to have, to recreate for them the wonderful day I had when I was young and the world was safer.
That trip is on hold until they restore the towers, which I hope they do, only higher.
All this, and more, I was thinking as I watched the funeral mass for Fr. Judge, as I heard the pipes play and ran through my mind the words to a song of courage and defiance.
“The Minstrel Boy to the war has gone in the ranks of death you will find him. His father’s sword he has girded on and his wild harp slung behind him. Land of song, said the warrior bard, though all the world betray thee – one sword at least thy rights shall guard one faithful harp shall praise thee."The Minstel fell but the foeman’s chain could not bring his proud soul under. The harp he loved ne’er spoke again for he tore its chords asunder and said “No chains shall sully thee, thou soul of love and bravery! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, they shall never sound in slavery!”
I have no shortage of defiance. I’m looking for courage.
Friday, September 9, 2011
REPOST: Casualties of war: From the first to the 41st
In 2003, I was the managing editor of The People-Sentinel in Barnwell. When the war broke out, the publisher said we had to do something for the troops. that's it. Something. No explanation or ideas.
i brainstormed with my lone reporter, and we came up with an idea.
Just days into the war in Iraq, a story was foisted on the American public about a little girl from West Virginia in a military convoy gone astray who bravely fought off swarming Iraqis until she ran out of ammo. She was later rescued by a special ops team.
Turned out it wasn't quite true. She was captured, but never fired a shot. She had broken legs It was a cynical attempt to manufacture a heroic symbol. The worst part of it was others were killed in that convoy, but they were ignored, and are, in many ways, still forgotten.
George Edward Buggs was in that same convoy with Jessica Lynch. He might have been in the same vehicle. We'll never know for sure what really happened. But while Jessica Lynch survived and was rescued, George Buggs was one of eight soldiers killed in that action, the first soldier from South Carolina to be killed in either of these latest wars.
Because of what we had done in our paper, we should have been prepared. But Buggs' family had not filled out a little slip of paper nor given us his photo. We had to go find them to get their story.
Over the course of two weeks and three papers, we covered the story of his life and death as well as any paper.
Like a good community paper, we not only wrote stories, but we helped the funeral home with some of the things they needed. We enlarged the few, poor Polaroids the family had, for one thing.
Because he was the first Palmetto State casualty, S.C. Gov. Mark Sanford attended his funeral and spoke at it, hopping down from a stage to give a Palmetto State flag to George Buggs' son.
It was a big event. The death scarred the community a little.
When the war is over, they are supposed to do something special for him and all the men who served.
When the war is over. Some now might call that a cruel joke.
George Buggs was career military. He left behind a wife and a son.
When I heard how Buggs used to love to take his son to the movies, I was tempted, so tempted, to fill that void. I love movies, after all.
I wasn't to stay much longer in Barnwell, it turned out. But my heart went out to the son, the wife, Buggs' parents, and the community.
At that time, I didn't understand why a boy was left without a father, a mother without a son, a wife without a husband. A few months later, another young man died, an Allendale County native.
Orenthal Smith was his name. He was the fourth South Carolinian killed in the war. I sat down in my office and talked for a while with his mother and sister. We got the reaction of friends, family,
I remember having again the thoughts. Why?
It is more than three years later. I'm in another community, and I have to retrace some of my old steps to tell a story that I've told in some ways before.
Spc. D. Logan Tinsley is apparently the 41st person from South Carolina to die in this war. But he is the first from Chester County.
He is the first war zone casualty involving a Chester County man since the Vietnam War, his ROTC instructor said. So the county might not fully be prepared for this. We don't know what will happen to the community. His mother doesn't even know for sure when his body will be brought home.
I talked to my mother the other day. It was Christmas after all. I don't know in what context it came up, but at one point, she said she believes in miracles. Her faith is a tower. Mine isn't even the straw hut blown down by the big bad wolf.
But I flash back, sitting in a crowded school gym and at the graveside with the family of the first man from our state killed in this war, I remember sitting there with the family of the fourth, in my office, talking about a lost loved one. And here I am again, sitting in the home of the 41st young man killed in this war.
I don't know why and can't fathom why this happens.
But I hope my mother is right, that there are miracles. I pray Logan Tinsley will be the last from South Carolina to die in this war.
But it will take a miracle.
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