Happy Boxing Day America

 

 

 

What a wonderful Christmas gift.


Thank you for your service and welcome Home!

Whigs... and Mugwumps... and Bull Mooses... Oh my!

“When they call the roll in the Senate,
the Senators do not know whether to answer 'Present'
or 'Not Guilty'.”
Theodore Roosevelt

In spite of Emily Post's admonition not to discuss religion or politics in polite company, growing up at my family's dining table, the conversation consisted of little else.  This was in large part due to my mother thinking that President Franklin Roosevelt saved our country from a communist revolution and my father believing Roosevelt was for all intent and purposes, a communist.  In discussing current events my mother could usually turn the topic into an another instance of the power elite's Machiavellian henchmen exploiting the poor and disenfranchised.  While my father could always see the same event as an attempt of pinko politicians, communist intellectuals, and racketeering unions conspiring to bleed our country dry.   The arguments on both sides of an issue often became heated and as Mrs. Post predicted, were rarely polite.  Being seated in the middle of the table and the genetic product of half of each side of the discussion, I often found myself sorting through the pithy parts of their argument, weeding out the bombast and finding common ground where some resolution could be found.  Speaking from experience I can say peacemakers are neither blessed nor very much appreciated.  As I grew older, I often offered an alternative argument.  I would foist a thesis on the table, not because it was well though out or based on any conviction, but because in our family it was good sport and I was ready to play.  I became at a tender age, an independent, or as my father suggested, a Mugwump.  (I'll explain later.)

It was only natural then, when I went to register to vote for my first time, I had difficulty in choosing a political party that best represented my thinking on a broad range of issues.  Our friend Dr. Franklin and I both vote or voted in the same state.  At the time, Franklin voted, there were two primary political interests, The proprietors (large land holders) and the merchants/tradesmen and small farmers (middle class).  As we all know Franklin was a prominent member of the later.  After Franklin retired from his printing business, he went on to promote the interests of the middle class in Pennsylvania and a number of other colonies, in London.  He was successful far beyond anyone's expectations (certainly the proprietors). 

200 years later my choices were similar but not as clear cut.  The Republican Party represented those who either had capital or had the expectation of acquiring it.  The Democrat Party, represented those who either labored in the hopes of acquiring sufficient capital, so that one day they or their children might become Republicans, or as my father suggested, felt that our Commonwealth of Pennsylvania was just that, common wealth to be shared on a need basis. (I realize this is a gross over simplification and that the truth lies somewhere in middle, but I'll get back to that eventually.)

  

When I asked the voter registration official if I could register as in Independent, he gave me the kind of irritated look that I thought only employees of the Department of Motor Vehicles were capable of and said, "No, there is no independent party in Pennsylvania.  You have to pick a state sanctioned political party."  He then showed me the choices on an approved registration form.  There was the Socialist Party, The Communist Party, The American Nazi Party, Industrial Workers of the World, America First Party, The Progressive Party (Bull Moose)... Whoa, Bull Moose?  

Where had I heard that name before?  Of course, my grandfather.   My father's father had been an ardent supporter of Teddy Roosevelt and though a life long Republican like his father and my father, he broke with his party in 1912 and actively supported Teddy Roosevelt who ran on the magnificently named "Bull Moose" ticket.  In as much as I couldn't in good faith sign up as an elephant or donkey, a bull moose struck me as uniquely more American and had a certain jauntiness that appealed to me.  When I asked if I could register in the Bull Moose Party, the clerk looked at the form, then looked at me suspiciously, snorted and called several associates over to confer.  Finally, he reluctantly handed me back the registration form and said, " I guess you can if it's on the form.  Don't know why though, you can't vote in the primaries unless they have a candidate."  I smiled as I marked the Bull Moose box, feeling closer to a grandfather I'd never met.  

Several weeks later I received a notice from the state, informing me my registration form was woefully out of date and the Bull Moose Party was no longer an approved political party, and that until further notice, I was an "unaffiliated" voter and as such could not vote in Pennsylvania's primary elections.  The implication was clear, pick a major party and stop annoying them.

Every President since Taft wants to be TR

  I bring all this up as our current President invoked the spirit of Teddy Roosevelt yesterday on the 101st anniversary of his Roosevelt's famous "New Nationalism" speech and the seminal beginnings of the Progressive Bull Moose Party.   

Roosevelt's success lay in
his conviction of 
"Country first"

I should be quick to add that our President's predecessor, a member of the opposition party also admired and quoted TR as well.  In fact every president since Taft and Wilson, has claimed Teddy Roosevelt and his principles as their own.  

I'd like to take a moment to explain why.

An accomplished pugilist -
TR would have loved a round with Russia's PM V. Putin

Theodore Roosevelt was never a "Party" man.  In fact, he made his Party, The Grand Old Republican Party, nervous by claiming he had no other allegiance to political interests, then to the people he represented.   Faithfulness to a constituency is not unique, most politicians make the same claim, what made Roosevelt different was he actually believed it .  Ironically it was Roosevelt's honest moral resoluteness that made his Republican "Bosses" feel he couldn't be trusted.

First Republican President was a Whig who defected

It wasn't the first time the Republican Party "Bosses" had to adjust their game plan.  The Republican Party itself grew out of an untenable corner its predecessor, The Whigs, had painted themselves into.  Slavery and a state's right to maintain it (sound familiar?), were the dividing issues.  Eventually the Northern Whigs abandoned the "Whig" Party and created an independent party called the Republicans.  They foisted an unknown country lawyer named Lincoln and... well you know the rest of the story.  

America has a long history of political bosses getting nervous.  In fact, our first and most illustrious President, George Washington, warned our country of the impending danger partisan politics posed  to our fledgling democracy.

Washington warned of the pernicious nature of political parties

“I have already intimated to you the danger of Parties in the State,  Let me now take a more comprehensive view, & warn you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the Spirit of Party, generally.


“This Spirit, unfortunately, is inseperable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human Mind. It exists under different shapes in all Governments, more or less stifled, controuled, or repressed; but in those of the popular form it is seen in its greatest rankness and is truly their worst enemy.

...And there being constant danger of excess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to mitigate & assuage it. A fire not to be quenched; it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest instead of warming it should consume."

Excerpts from George Washington’s Farewell Address

September 19, 1796

I doubt it was a coincidence that Washington waited to warn of us of the danger of partisan politic parties, until he was packed up and  retiring from public life.   It is far easier to call a spade a spade, when the problem is in your rear view mirror, then looming in front of you.

Another man who warned us of the political dangers that lay ahead of our republic as he departed public office, was another great general and the most widely respected U.S. President in my lifetime.

Eisenhower was a paragon of public service

"As we peer into society's future, we -- you and I, and our government -- must avoid the impulse to live only for today, plundering for our own ease and convenience the precious resources of tomorrow. We cannot mortgage the material assets of our grandchildren without risking the loss also of their political and spiritual heritage. We want democracy to survive for all generations to come, not to become the insolvent phantom of tomorrow. 

 ... In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. We must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic processes. We should take nothing for granted. Only an alert and knowledgeable citizenry can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defense with our peaceful methods and goals, so that security and liberty may prosper together."

 

Dwight D. Eisenhower

Farewell Address
Delivered 17 January 1961 (B.Franlin's Birthday)

Like Washington, Eisenhower warned the nation as he was leaving town.  Eisenhower's Farewell Address reminded me of someone moving out of their old house, handing the keys to the new owners and telling them to keep an eye out for those pesky termites in the basement.  

New home owners and new office holders both have their hands full with the problems they know about, like mortgages or Federal budgets.  The potential problems take a back seat.  Of course, this is what makes soft threats so insidious.  They rarely announce themselves until it's too late to easily fix them.  For the homeowner it means remodeling, in politics it means reform.

Reform is one of the innate principles of a democracy.  Democracy by definition, is a politically self-correcting mechanism that will periodically adjust itself through the will of the governed.  By and large, I agree with the principle, just as I believe in the principle of love.  But as we are all painfully aware, democracy like love, is often a messy business.

This brings me back to our man TR.

TR with his "Rough Riders" - Cuba

As I mentioned, Teddy Roosevelt made career politicians nervous. Actually, by all accounts Teddy Roosevelt made everybody nervous.  He was a perpetual whirling dervish Renaissance man .   His mind and his body were in constant motion, as he pin-balled his way through a political career that took him from state assemblyman to the White House.  

A prolific writer - these are the complete works of T.R.

It is important to note that Roosevelt vigorously embodied both the spirit of the "Age of Enlightenment" and a young country about to grow into its "sea to shining sea" body.   As a boy he pursued Natural History with same enthusiasm and unbridled passion, he gave to whatever interest caught his fancy.  His room was filled with animals that he had learned to dissect and stuff himself.  At Harvard he took an interest in naval history and went on to write a study on the US Navy and the War of 1812.  A body of work that is still in print today and is a standard by which all military histories are measured.  It also provided him an income that allowed him broad independence.  

"Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground" - TR

It was this independence that made the New York political bosses jumpy.  Perhaps one of Roosevelt's greatest attributes was, that while he was a man of great moral conviction, he didn't sacrifice the goal of the greater good on the alter of idealism.  He was not only one of the most intellectually gifted Presidents but one of the shrewdest too.  Which brings me to the Mugwump part of the story.

 The Republican Party had a remarkable run after becoming the first "Independent" party to take national office. From Lincoln to Harrison, the Republicans had control of the federal government. With time, political corruption flourished, becoming the unwritten law of the land.  By 1884, many Republicans found it difficult to maintain support for their party in the face of systemic party corruption. Party discomfort culminated with the Republican Presidential nomination of Senator Blaine of Maine.  Blaine, as chairman of most of the appropriation committees, had control of the federal cookie jar for sometime and had been caught repeatedly with his hand in it.  Blaine had elevated influence peddling to an art form that today's politicians can only admire with slack-jawed awe.  His greatness lay in his shamelessness.  That not withstanding, his nomination was the breaking point for many Republicans who were having trouble maintaining a straight face, while explaining their support for Blaine to their constituents.   

Sen. Blaine's financial indiscretions revealed to the party faithful

This gave rise to the "Mugwump" movement within the Republican Party that reluctantly supported Grover Cleveland, the Democratic Presidential nominee.  Many of the moderate Republican politicians joined the movement to show their constituents that they too were opposed to the rampant corruption in Washington.  One of the few northern Republicans not to jump on the "Goody-Goody" (where the expression comes from) Mugwump band wagon was Teddy Roosevelt.  This puzzled not only his friends but the party bosses who thought he would be the first to throw Senator Blaine under the trolly.  It turns out, part of Roosevelt's convictions included loyalty and he could not in good conscience defect to the Democrats.  He would however, in his own time and way, bring about the reforms the Mugwumps called for.

Roosevelt's rise to the White House came in spite of the Republican Party bosses best efforts to keep him out 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.  They knew TR to be a man of principal and fervent morals.  This made him a good front man but dangerous if given power.  As Governor of New York, Roosevelt had already become a nuisance to the state and local GOP machines.  They wanted him out of the way and you can't get much further out of the way than being elected a U.S. Vice-President, which the "smoke filled room" Republican convention boys arranged with the re-election of William McKinley as President, and Roosevelt as VP in 1901.

Political violence was never far from Roosevelt's mind

Like so many VP's before him, Theodore Roosevelt might have become a minor footnote in American history books, had it not been for an anarchist's bullet, that took the life of President McKinley later that year.


Roosevelt soon demonstrated to the men who controlled Washington and New York, (then as now, special interest groups) that they had every right to be nervous about him.  President Roosevelt put them on notice after taking office, with a speech that would change American politics and the country. 

Square Deal Speech (excerpts)

"In the history of mankind many republics have risen, have flourished for a less or greater time, and then have fallen because their citizens lost the power of governing themselves... 

The outcome was equally fatal, whether the country fell into the hands of a wealthy oligarchy which exploited the poor or whether it fell under the domination of a turbulent mob which plundered the rich. In both cases there resulted violent alternations between tyranny and disorder, and a final complete loss of liberty to all citizens --  

There must be ever present in our minds the fundamental truth that in a republic such as ours the only safety is to stand neither for nor against any man because he is rich or because he is poor. We must treat each man on his worth and merits as a man. We must see that each is given a square deal, because he is entitled to no more and should receive no less."

Theodore Roosevelt

State Fair

Syracuse, New York

September 7, 1903

 It was Roosevelt's intimate knowledge of the history of democracy in ancient Greece and Rome, that made him acutely aware of how fragile representative government was.  That fragility was underscored by the fact that Roosevelt had become President, not by the will of the people but by an assassins bullet.  This was a point TR took pains to make clear to those on Wall Street who opposed his progressive policies.  When J.P. Morgan complained that his shareholders would not be pleased with Roosevelt's labor policy, TR rejoined, "I have shareholders too, considerably more than you and they can live with it."   This is in keeping with the council he often gave to his good friend and confident the Russian Ambassador, Baron Roman Romanovich Rosen.  Roosevelt cautioned him, if the Czar and his court did not moderate their control of Russian wealth and encourage the middle class to prosper, as well as expand their role in government, there would be blood in the streets of St. Petersburg and Moscow.  Apparently the Czar didn't get the message.

Within 7 years, Roosevelt had done more to change the American Presidency, than any man since George Washington.  Roosevelt felt confident his hand picked successor Howard Taft, would continue the progressive policies that TR had set into motion. When it became obvious that Taft was drifting back to politics as usual, Roosevelt made his "New Nationalism" speech as a reminder to the Republicans, not to surrender the moral high ground.  And if the party would not finish what he started, he could.

Not a coincidence Roosevelt choose this occasion to warn Republicans

Theodore Roosevelt

Excerpt from New Nationalism Speech

August, 1910 

"I believe in shaping the ends of government to protect property as well as human welfare.  Those who oppose reform will do well to remember that ruin in its worst form is inevitable if our national life brings us nothing better than swollen fortunes for the few and the triumph in both politics and business of a sordid and selfish materialism...

...If our political institutions were perfect, they would absolutely prevent the political domination of money in any part of our affairs.  It is particularly important that all moneys received or expended for campaign purposes should be publicly accounted for, not only after election, but before election as well.  One of the fundamental necessities in a representative government such as ours is to make certain that the men to whom the people delegate their power shall serve the people by whom they are elected, and not the special interests. I believe that every national officer, elected or appointed, should be forbidden to perform any service or receive any compensation, directly or indirectly, from interstate corporations; and a similar provision could not fail to be useful within the States."

With this speech, the Progressive Party (Bull Moose) took life.  In the following Presidential election, The Progressive Party nearly accomplished what the Republican Party had done to the Whigs 55 years before.  Unfortunately, Roosevelt narrowly lost and a Democrat, Woodrow Wilson, was elected.   Once again, it was business as usual in Washington. 

In spite of losing, Theodore Roosevelt's progressive policies were adopted and re-branded by both parties as being their own.  TR's influence in Washington was palpable for the remainder of the century

Alice is credited with: "If you can't say something nice

, then sit next to me."

This was in no small part due to his daughter Alice, who was every bit her father's daughter. Alice Roosevelt married a prominent congressman and 
held social court in Washington D.C. up through the 1970's.   Few Washington politicians of either party rose to prominence, without first seeking and receiving Alice Roosevelt Longworth's blessing.  

It's a historical twist of fate that about the time Alice was closing one Republican era, another Republican Presidential candidate was conjuring up the polar opposite of another. 

Nixon, with "Checkers",
the most influential dog in American history

Richard Nixon and his 1968 Presidential campaign staff came up with the "Southern Strategy".  It was an effective though risky tactic, that was designed to appeal to the same passions that 110 years earlier had caused the downfall of the Whig party and nearly destroyed a nation.  The "Southern Strategy" was a subtle and quiet attempt to attract a portion of southern voters known as "Dixiecrats" into the Republican tent.  

Dixiecrat was a PC term for segregationist

Dixiecrats were southern Democrats disaffected with the Democratic Party's civil rights efforts over the last 30 years.  It was a calculated move on Nixon's part and it worked. 

The heart of the Republican Party was best expressed when Abraham Lincoln asked in his first inaugural address, that we "Not to be enemies" and prayed that we might be touched, "by the better angels of our nature.",  with those words Lincoln lay the foundation for a political platform that evolved into a century of tradition founded on compassion and reason.  
Nixon's Southern Strategy opened the back door of the Republican Party and put out a welcome mat that appealed to the "lesser angels of our nature".  It provided a political safe haven to those with darker passions and baser interests.   It would be the beginning of the end of my Father's Grand Old Party.   

"... for whatever one sows, that will he also reap."

Now 40 years later the "Chickens have come home to roost" for the Republican Party, or to borrow another quaint phrase that plays well in the South, "That dog don't hunt." 
Over time, the corrosive effect of the religious and moral right, on a political party founded on the tenets of the "Age of Reason" and "The proposition that all men are created equal", began to take its toll.  The once "Silent Majority" slowly began to be heard and as their voices rose, the voices of reason and moderation began to become lost in the din. 

By the 1990's the Republican Party was dominated by a coalition of special interests that coalesced during the Clinton administration.  These were a curious collection of "born again" Christian leaders, socially conservative activists, and Zionists.  

Odd Republican bedfellows, indeed !

Collectively they became known as Neo-conservatives or NeoCons.  The NeoCons worked best behind the scenes and strategically placed themselves in the back offices of popular elected Republicans.  This culminated with election of George W. Bush.  Nine months later in the aftermath of the tragic events of 9/11, the NeoCons were provided a dramatic opportunity to step forward and implement their foreign policy ambitions.  Rational discussion of who was attacking us, why they were attacking, and how best should the United States respond to the attack, was condemned by the NeoCons as exhibiting weakness and lack of resolve.  This it was argued, would encourage our enemies, who ever they might be, to continue their fight.  Not long after, the White House announced the United States had gone to war with Islamic "Evil Doers", and that this amorphous threat had to be eliminated at any cost.  A cost that would measured not only in lives and treasure but in citizen's rights as well. 

  This "shoot first - ask questions later" approach gave the NeoCons the right to define the enemy to be whom ever they decided to start shooting.  It also initiated America's first religious/ cultural war.  It was precisely this reason our country's predominately deist Founding Fathers made the "First Amendment" of our Constitution, first. Not since the issue of slavery, has the Republican Party and subsequently the country been more divided.   

10 years later, nothing illustrates the fragmentation of the GOP more than the Republican Presidential candidates being paraded before the American public today.  The depth and caliber of the candidates is nothing short of a national disgrace. 

Republican Primary Presidential nomination run

Their lack of character and qualifications would be an embarrassment even at the local level.  The fact these people are contending for the most powerful office in the world is beyond disgraceful, it's a threat to our national security.  

Every democracy needs a strong and vigorous choice between candidates and political philosophies.  The Republicans are serving up the same smorgasbord of silly candidates that used to be a Democratic specialty.  The Republican run up to the state primaries, has for all intent and purposes taken on the look of a circus "Clown Car" act.  The few sensible candidates in the field are so handicapped by their "reasonableness", that they have to disingenuously misrepresent it.  If a candidate cannot stand behind his or her record, they should not be in the fray.  Waffling and confabulation is not a formula for showcasing a candidate's character.

What Gandhi didn't know,
"after that they shoot you".

The only consistent candidate in the running is Texas Congressman Ron Paul. However, his foreign and fiscal policy positions, make him, like our friend TR, unacceptable to the existing power structure.

This is evident by the media blacking out his candidacy.

Ron Paul maybe fortunate that he is merely being ignored.  If he continues to gain popular support, in spite of his being treated like an unwanted red headed step-child by the media, the NeoCons will escalate to full attack mode.  Initially this will merely entail dismissing Paul as fringe or crazy, just an old dotty eccentric Texas wacko.  However, if he continues to gain traction  don't be surprised if you hear that Congressman Paul had young women disrobing for him while touched them in the most inappropriate of places.  (Ron Paul was a obstetrician/gynecologist and delivered over 4,000 babies.)  Whatever accusations are foisted, they will be vicious and constant.  

While I may not agree with all of Ron Paul's positions, I do know that if there is a concerted effort on a broad front to silence the man, he must have something important to say and I would like to hear it.

On the abyss... again ?

I can only pray (presumably to the same address the religious-right send their prayers to.) that the Republican Party can either snap out of this self-mutilation mode before its too late, or pack it in and hit the reset button.  I suspect that like the Whigs before them, it may be time to reinvent themselves under a new brand.  Lord knows, there will be plenty of sensible Democrats (my father would say that is an oxymoron) weary of the same self-serving politicians eager to join them.  Speaking on behalf of all Independents who have been waiting since 1910, we are more than ready to jump on a band wagon that TR could be proud of.  It may be time to make the Republican Party the third party.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, growing up, I watched my parents argue politics far more vigorously and colorfully than anything blaring on cable talk news today. The difference was, that at the end of the argument, there was never any question of loyalty or motivation.  My parents both loved this country beyond question. They both wanted what is best for it. They just had different perspectives on the same question.   We all do.  And in the end, compromise and respect for one another is what will carry the day.  

"A Republic, if you can keep it."
B. Franklin, when asked what kind of government
the Constitution provided for.  
Philadelphia, 1787

Love of country, as in love of family, trumps everything else.  It's time to stop hating and blaming, and start showing some love and compromise, for the good of the country.   If the elected officials we have don't understand that, it is time to elect men and women who do.

Vote early and often.

Looking Back Brightly - An Embarassment of Blessings

 These Blessings, Reader, may Heav’n grant to thee;
A faithful friend, equal in Love’s degree;
Land fruitful, never conscious of the Curse,
A liberal Heart and never-failing Purse;
A smiling conscience, a contented mind;
A temp’rate Knowledge with true Wisdom join’d;
A Life as long as fair, and when expir’d,
A kindly death, unfear’d as undesir’d.

Poor Richard’s Almanack
 1745

With Thanksgiving approaching Poor Richard's blessing came to mind the other day when I called my childhood neighbor, friend and early coconspirator to check in.  I told him I was I was reminded of our youthful adventures, as I read Mark Twain's (Samuel Clements') Autobiography.  I should be quick to point out that the venerated Dr. Franklin and Dr. Clements (each had an honorary degree) shared both wit and wisdom, with wisdom favoring Franklin, wit Twain.


Franklin's autobiography made a great impression on me as a youth.  It now appears Twain's may make a similar one on me in my autumn  years.  More on Twain's autobiography later.

"A true friend is the best possession "

Poor Richard's Almanac, 

1744

What specifically prompted the call to my "Huckleberry" friend, was Twain's recollection of his youth in the woods of Kentucky.  It was as vivid and colorful as my own.  I imagine most of our favorite childhood memories are sharp and vivid, especially when you have someone to recount them with, as my friend and I  often do.  When we wax nostalgic, we are transported back to a long-ago time in early summer morning, when we would both dash out our backdoors, with the dew still wet on the grass, and our mother's admonition of, "Be home in time for dinner.", ringing in our ears.   We would rendezvous at a giant pine tree between our houses.  It was the finest climbing tree for miles.  There much like our literary heroes Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, we would plot our adventure for the day.  It may have been a foray to Mitchell's Pond to throw rocks at the snakes. Or an arduous hike to the "Boulders", which were a massive towering jumble of giant rocks piled up on one another, left behind as a souvenir from the last Ice Age.  Our missions varied according to seasons and friends available for recruitment for our expedition.  All in all, an idyllic time.  I was blessed, though at the time I didn't know it.  We enjoyed a freedom and independence that in time we would deny our own children, for the sake of safety.  Independence is an exhilarating gift that brings with its own responsibility.  It is an experience that perhaps our children may one day enjoy again.  (Note to the Media, stop scaring everyone.)  


Thanksgiving being a time for reflection, allow me a few moments to range through a few thoughts, on bounty and blessings.


Reading Twain's autobiography, which was written in his final years, brought me to the realization that people, as well as nations, often do not appreciate how fortunate they are, until the blessings they were granted, begin to wane.  Or as Joni Mitchell sang, "That you don't know what you've got till it's gone."   Which brings to mind the observation:
"Youth is wasted on the young."


Mark Twain's literary greatness lay with the fact that his childhood memories never left him.  He was a man who wrote with a boy's heart.  He never lost his sense of wonder, as was evident in "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer".  The foundation for the novel and his exceptional gift of observation, can be seen in this description of his Uncle's farm he visited as a boy.  Its youthful enthusiasm is an apt description of a boy and a country coming of age in the early 19th century.

"I can see the farm yet, with perfect clearness. I can see all its belongings, all its details; the family room of the house, with a "trundle" bed in one corner and a spinning-wheel in another--a wheel whose rising and falling wail, heard from a distance, was the mournfulest of all sounds to me, and made me homesick and low-spirited, and filled my atmosphere with the wandering spirits of the dead: the vast fireplace, piled high, on winter nights, with flaming hickory logs from whose ends a sugary sap bubbled out but did not go to waste, for we scraped it off and ate it; the lazy cat spread out on the rough hearthstones, the drowsy dogs braced against the jambs and blinking; my aunt in one chimney-corner knitting, my uncle in the other smoking his corn-cob pipe; the slick and carpetless oak floor faintly mirroring the dancing flame-tongues and freckled with black indentations where fire-coals had popped out and died a leisurely death; half a dozen children romping in the background twilight; "split"-bottomed chairs here and there, some with rockers; a cradle--out of service, but waiting, with confidence; in the early cold mornings a snuggle of children, in shirts and chemises, occupying the hearthstone and procrastinating--they could not bear to leave that comfortable place and go out on the wind-swept floor-space between the house and kitchen where the general tin basin stood, and wash.

Along outside of the front fence ran the country road; dusty in the summer-time, and a good place for snakes--they liked to lie in it and sun themselves; when they were rattlesnakes or puff adders, we killed them: when they were black snakes, or racers, or belonged to the fabled "hoop" breed, we fled, without shame; when they were "house snakes" or "garters" we carried them home and put them in Aunt Patsy's work-basket for a surprise; for she was prejudiced against snakes, and always when she took the basket in her lap and they began to climb out of it it disordered her mind. She never could seem to get used to them."

Count your blessings, literally

Like Twain, I think most of us have a propensity to remember, "Only the bright moments".  It's why our past is wrapped in a warm nostalgic cover.  Our yearning for the "Old Days" and the appearance of a bountiful past may have something to do with the fact that each year more of us show up for at the same sized world table for dinner.  When Poor Richard's was published in 1750 there were 700 million worldwide pilgrims looking for something to eat, in 1950, 2.55 billion, today according to the United Nations, we had the 7 billionth pilgrim show up looking for grub.  That's a lot of plates on Mother Nature's table.  The mathematic progression should give us pause.

When the original Pilgrims showed up in North America, the natives were only to happy to share what they had with the curiously dressed out-of-towners.  It was inconceivable of the Wampanoag Tribe of Massachusetts to think that these pitiful English settlers could ever need more than the "Great Spirit" had provided for them.  There was land and bounty enough for all God's creatures.  Of course, the Wampanoag's had never met an English lawyer or soldier yet.  Our local aborigines would discover soon enough the people on the far shore had a voracious appetite for land and slaughter.


Even 200 years later it seemed that our North America's bounty was limitless.  Here is a description of a hunting forage out of Mark Twain's childhood back door:

"I remember the pigeon seasons, when the birds would come in millions, and cover the trees, and by their weight break down the branches. They were clubbed to death with sticks; guns were not necessary, and were not used. I remember the squirrel hunts, and the prairie-chicken hunts, and the wild-turkey hunts, and all that; and how we turned out, mornings, while it was still dark, to go on these expeditions, and how chilly and dismal it was, and how often I regretted that I was well enough to go. A toot on a tin horn brought twice as many dogs as were needed, and in their happiness they raced and scampered about, and knocked small people down, and made no end of unnecessary noise. At the word, they vanished away toward the woods, and we drifted silently after them in the melancholy gloom. But presently the gray dawn stole over the world, the birds piped up, then the sun rose and poured light and comfort all around, everything was fresh and dewy and fragrant, and life was a boon again. After three hours of tramping we arrived back wholesomely tired, overladen with game, very hungry, and just in time for breakfast."

It is easy to be charitable when you have much. The trick is to still be kind when things are dear.  As a nation we have often been generous in sharing our wealth with our friends.  Our native North Americans probably felt the same way when they welcomed the European explorers and early settlers.  It would take almost 250 years before they were crowded out of their rich hunting lands and herded westward into oblivion.  I have always been proud of being an American.  Part of that pride stemmed from being blessed by being born in a land of seemingly endless bounty.  Seldom has so much been been protected by so few.  I should also count among my blessing the fact I belonged to a tribe that embraced mathematics and literacy.  The application of which provided our forebears the tools necessary to have their way with the noble but poorly armed native inhabitants, "from sea to shining sea".   Now, I am not suggesting I am proud of how we took title to the land.  Few land grabs are as neat and tidy as the Dutch acquisition of Manhattan, for a handful of beads and trinkets, most are messy and protracted.  Just ask any European, they don't bother drawing the boundaries in ink anymore.  I just feel fortunate that I came from a tribe that appreciated "Gnosis" or knowledge.  It was science and engineering that had our team holding the trigger side of the "fire stick" during our march to the Pacific.  Science and reason will trump witchdoctors and shamans  every time.


While I'm on the topic of taking blessings for granted, a good deal of our greatness comes from passing our knowledge on to our children.   In as much as western common sense (liberal arts), science and logic are currently being called into question by powerful skeptics, I can only pray (curiously ironic) that our belief in mathematics and natural philosophy may continue to serve our tribe in the future.  


As time and mathematics inexorably apply themselves to man's proclivity for reproduction, our tribe and the world, will need rational reasoning and science more than ever to maintain the blessings we have come to take for granted.  Let us hope that as a national tribe we can still count on common sense and our great "commonwealth" as one of our true blessings to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.  


In the meantime, let's look at the bright side of runaway population growth,  it greatly enhances the opportunity to meet new friends and family.  Which brings me back to Ben's idiom: "A true friend is the best possession " and mercifully my conclusion.


Of all my blessings, of which I have many, none do I cherish and am grateful for more than my very own friends and family.  They are a gift and treasure that makes everyday, a day to be thankful.


I pray your days are as blessed.


Happy Thanksgiving.

"Every picture tells a story... don't it?"

A Poppy from the "Field of Flanders" 
and the symbol for Remembrance Day
It's unfortunate how soon we forget something so important.

Our friend Ben wrote to Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society in the anticipation of signing of the Paris Peace Treaty, ending the conflict between Great Britain and the nascent United States,

"...  there was never a good War, or a bad Peace.”

This is has been often quoted but generally out of context.  Franklin ever the practical man went on to say...

... imagine the Paradise, that might have been obtained by spending those Millions in doing good, which in the last War have been spent in doing Mischief; in bringing Misery into thousands of Families, and destroying the Lives of so many thousands of working people, who might have performed the useful labour!”

We call it Veterans Day here but Remembrance is more apt.
In every war there is sacrifice by many, just ask any mother.

Few can argue with Franklin's observation and yet like so many other things we know are bad for us, we can not resist the temptation to periodically run off and impose ourselves on another tribe.  

All of this came to mind when I considered the significance of today's date.  11/11/11, as any Numerologist can tell you is a rare and presumably auspicious calendar event.  And so it was hoped 93 years ago, when the world chose that date and time, to reflect on the what it had done to itself.  At the appointed hour 11AM local time, on the 11th of day of the 11th month, of 1918, the world stopped for 2 minutes. Surviving mothers, fathers, wives, sweethearts, families and veterans all bowed their heads and let the silence speak for the 35 million dead and wounded, lost in the carnage of the "War to End All Wars".  After the tears stopped, the politician's speeches began, and those responsible vowed to "Always Remember".  They promised to never allow the madness to be repeated.  Like so many other resolutions to improve ourselves, this one was soon broken.  It was so sudden that rather than come up with a catchy name for the next war, they merely assigned a number to it.  Let hope that 11/11/11 is more propitious, as well as memorable, this time around.

War, whether good or bad, appears to be as much a part of the Homo sapiens species, as rutting season is to the Moose.  Both are territorial in nature, testosterone driven and stressful to the female.   Yet in spite of a 10,000 year history of continual warfare, politicians still disingenuously condemn war as madness and vow "never again",  even as they are ginning up the next one.  To demonstrate how committed to peace the politicians are (most whom I hasten to add, have never served in a combat zone), our Congress designated a day that would provide them an occasion to make speeches in tribute to those who have "Served their Country", in "projecting" peace and freedom around the world.

Veterans Day or Remembrance Day, is the one day a year we set aside to honor those who do the actual "projecting".   The gesture clearly does little to retard the impulse to go to war but it at least gives us pause to reflect on the price of war, not in treasure but in blood.

That is what I would like to do today, pause and share a reflection of war with you.

"Peace Demonstration" - Mekong Delta, 1970
No one respects peace more than a combat veteran

This is a picture I took in a base camp located in the "Plain of Jars", in the Mekong Delta of Vietnam, in the early Spring of 1970.

It is a picture, like thousands of others, that have been taken at other memorial services, in other wars.  What makes this one different is that I knew the young man, the soldiers in the picture are honoring.

The concept of war is an abstraction.  As abstract as the number 4,481.  It doesn't mean much, unless over the last 10  years you were the parent or spouse of one the 4,481 Americans killed to date, in Iraq or Afghanistan.  Then the idea of war and the number become real at the same time.


Like a number, this picture is an abstraction, but only if it has no meaning.  Here's the story and the meaning behind this picture.

"Go Devil" Patch

Three months before the photo was taken, I had been assigned to the 9th Infantry Division and went through a process center called, "The Go Devil Academy", Go Devil, was the 9th's mascot, (This was before it conjured up satanic possibilities.)  One of the nuBees I went through the academy with, was a young aspiring cowboy from Ft Collins, CO (or it might have been Ft. Laramie, it was a while ago). He had been trained as an RTO (RadioTelegraph Operator) and had taken advanced artillery training in Fort Sill, OK.  I wouldn't have known all this, if I hadn't pulled perimeter guard duty with him for several nights.

One of the few upsides to pulling perimeter guard duty is you get to make new friends.   10 hours of hunkering down in a hole with 2 other fellows, allows for ample opportunity to find out how they ended up in the same hole.  The odd thing is, you remember the stories long after you've forgotten their names.

Like his home town, I vaguely remember our boy's name as "Dusty", which he came by dint of his blonde hair.  I also remember his nick name, because he showed me a picture of his girlfriend holding a puppy of indeterminate breed, that his girlfriend had named "Lil Dusty".  I recall the picture vividly, as it was unusual.  Now showing a picture of your "Girl", is a time honored tradition with soldiers pulling guard duty.  This may be because it is a subtle way to assure the other guys in the hole that you like girls and they can rest soundly, when it's their turn to sleep.  The counter-part of the tradition, is for the guys looking at the picture to say, "Oh Yeah, she's nice!"  You have to say this, no matter how down to the bone ugly she is.  It's just a rule that all soldiers and sailors have lived with since the advent of image reproduction.

Typical Perimeter Guard Post

Turns out the girl in this picture, was as wholesome and cute as Dusty was winsome (you can't say handsome in a foxhole).  In the picture, she is brimming over with her love for Dusty and you can nearly feel her smile.   The girlfriend was holding the puppy close to her face and  I swear the dog was smiling too.   When exchanging these "My Girl" pictures, it can tell you as much about the guy showing it, as it does the woman you're looking at.  You look for clues, as to where and when it was taken.  In this one you could tell the puppy was a Christmas gift, as a bedecked tree could be seen in the background of typical middle class ranch house.  It didn't matter if it was Dusty's house or hers, it just told us where he came from and hung out.    As "My Girl" pictures go, this was a great one and Dusty had every right to be proud of it.

After it had been passed around and studied, we all unanimously agreed, she was a great gal and just as important, that was a fine looking dog he had given her.  (For some reason, Grunts studied the dogs in a picture, as much as the girl).   Dusty beamed, obviously pleased with our evaluation, thanked us, then ceremoniously wrapped the picture back up in its protective cover and returned to it to his wallet.  Thereafter, the conversation naturally turned to what was the status of their relation.  When he informed us she was still his girl.  the questioning narrowed to what were his expectations and intentions on returning home.

This is touchy ground.  Most of us had left "someone" behind and we all  feared the possibility of losing "her" more than we feared Charlie (Viet Cong).  As a result unless someone showed you the picture of a woman, 100 pounds overweight or plagued with a face only a father could love, you usually thought to yourself, there was a fair chance the object of his desire, was going to rip his heart out sometime over the next 360 odd days, your new found friend had left in-country.  Dusty's girlfriend's picture stands out in my mind to this day, only because she had the distinction of being painfully cute, while at the same time, giving me the comforting impression she would still be waiting for him when he got home again.  It was a rare combination and none of us were pained to hear Dusty say, , "I might marry her when I get back ... if she'll have me." .  We all nodded in complete agreement that she would be a wonderful gal (he referred to her as his gal) to get back home to.  After that, the conversation  drifted to pondering how long the mosquito season would be in Vietnam. (Turns out, a long time.)

A few days later, Dusty shipped out to an artillery battalion and was posted to a Forward Observer Team.  I never saw him again, alive.

In April of 1970,  I was assigned to photograph a memorial service out of a Base Camp named Gettysburg.   I flew in to camp on a Huey with some of the usual ceremonial brass.  (Colonels and Generals love getting their pictures taken, but on these occasions, I can assure you they hate it.)  I didn't know the name of the KIA until I heard it read by the Chaplin.  I asked the PIO officer with me if this PFC was a new RTO called Dusty.  He nodded, I started to blink back tears as I worked.  All I could think of was that picture Dusty had showed us that night.   I couldn't get that damn puppy out of my mind, knowing that "Lil" Dusty would be all that his girlfriend and family had left of their boy.

The Chaplin and the Colonel went on to explain how Dusty had been killed by an RPG round as he and his FO team called in fire on an NVA position.  At least thats how I remember it, but mostly I remember that puppy Lil Dusty, smiling.

I gave the film canisters to the PIO officer and asked if he would make sure that Dusty's family got some of the pictures.  I didn't see film or the contact sheet until I returned back to Division several days later.  When I saw the job had been filed and close out, I did something I shouldn't.  I removed the contacts and negatives, and sent them home Stateside.  It was one of the few pictures I kept from my tour.

For years I kept the print hidden away, as it was a painful reminder of the horrific price we paid for a flawed foreign policy.  As time went by, I began to think that as a nation we had learned something from our Vietnam experience and that the lesson, dear as it was, would be some small consolation that our troops had not died in vain.  However, after we invaded Iraq, the second time (If there is an exception to Franklin's rule, the 1st Iraq invasion, Persian Gulf War, is a most likely candidate.)  I realized how naive I was.  I printed and hung the picture of Dusty's Memorial Service, as a reminder that war has a price.  As convenient as it is for us to put war out of our minds it is far too pernicious and destructive, by any measure, to ever forget.


To those who knew and loved the boy being honored in my picture, as well as, the surviving families of every picture like it, I know you won't forget.  Bless you all and thank you.
Happy Veterans Day.