Where Have All The Flowers Gone?

           Remember the song “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”

            Sure you do.  It was a popular folk song in the 1960s.

            The song crossed my mind this week as I was thinking about next Tuesday.  What’s next Tuesday?  It’s 9/11.  It’s the 11^th anniversary of the several tragedies we collectively call 9/11: the twin towers in New York, the Pentagon, Shanksville (PA) and the whole country. 

            I remember the hours following the New York events, then the days followings, and then the weeks following.  There were flags everywhere.  “Old Glory” was on lapel pins, car windows, front yards.  We proudly flew our flags; we waved them; we wore them; we showed our colors, proclaiming we would cower to no one. 

            And now, I wonder: Where have all the flags gone?  Where are the lapel pins? 

            For months after 9/11 we displayed signs that said “Never forget.”  Somehow, they seem to have disappeared. 

            But have we forgotten?  Have our flags gone to closets everyone?

            I hope not.  I hope the horror of 9/11 does not fade with time.  Sure, we all want the pain and grief borne by the thousands of surviving family members to become easier to bear as time passes. 

            At the same time, though, we, as citizens of the greatest country and with our varying opinions and views, must be together as Americans. 

            While the lapel pins and flags are only symbols of our nation, we must not toss them aside or hide them.  We should show our colors as reminders to ourselves and to our neighbors.

            Otherwise, when will we ever learn?  When will we ever learn?

 

 

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Just a "Good-Feeling" Experience

            Noise and heat aside, a NASCAR race is a “good-feeling” experience.

            The Duppster and I went to the Coke Zero 400 at Daytona Saturday.  It was hot, hot, hot.  And it was noisy, noisy, noisy.  But, if the noise and heat can be overlooked, it was an event of warm, fuzzy feelings. 

            First, NASCAR is somewhat like apple pie: it’s all-American. It’s full of flag-waving and, yes, it starts with prayer.  Amen! 

            Of course, the way those guys drive, they NEED prayer.

  

          Four Congressional Medal of Honor winners were introduced, recognized and celebrated prior to the race.  True American heroes!

           

 There was an amazing fly-over by the Air Force in a B-52 at the end of the national anthem.  An enormous American flag covered much of the centerfield at the time. 

            And retired Coach Bobby Bowden had the honor of telling the racers to start their engines, except that he said, “Gentlemen, start your dadgummed engines!”

            Perhaps because this was the week of July 4th, there was a superb fireworks show at the end of the race.

           

                 Finally, there was a bold proclamation by one of the sponsors, and, even though I don’t usually write about particular companies, this sponsor deserves a mention and a gold medal of sorts.  Goodyear had every tire used in the race imprinted with “Support Our Troops.”  And, believe me, there were loads of tires used Saturday night.  

          

  Yes, it was noisy; yes, it was hot; but, yes, Saturday night’s race truly was a “good-feeling” experience. 

~                               ~                              ~

Where Were You on 9/11?

Where were you on the morning of September 11, 2001?  No doubt, you remember exactly, don't you?


I was driving by the Pentagon.  We were leaving Arlington to return to South Carolina, after taking my six-month-old nephew, Ryan, home to his parents. We spent the night of the 10th, then got up on the 11th to drive home. We had planned to leave between 8 am and 8:30 but it was more like 8:45 when we actually left my sister’s house.

As we approached the Pentagon, I wondered aloud why there were police officers everywhere and why there were roadblocks being set up on the entrance and exit ramps. People were scrambling, rushing to close of the streets.  In fact, I said that somebody important must be coming or going or doing something.

Because we were listening to an audio book, we didn’t have the radio on. Shortly, though, the cell phone rang. That's when we learned  that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Immediately, we switched from listening to the book to listening to the radio.

We continued to drive south, trying to get news and trying to figure out what had happened. Soon, we learned of the second plane attack on the World Trade Center. And then the Pentagon crash. And then the news about the Pennsylvania crash.

These were hours of disbelief, shock, horror, confusion.  This was more than the mind could fathom.

During some stretches along I-95, it was difficult to get clear radio signals, but we picked up bits and pieces as much as possible. It became clear that the country was under attack.

We felt helpless.  Perhaps out of the helpless feeling came our desire to make a statement of sorts.  We started looking for an American flag to put on the car. We were determined to show our pride in America. At the first exit, we couldn’t find an American flag to purchase. Nor could we find one at the next exit. Or the next. In fact, it took us many stops and about 200 miles to find a flag. We bought several.

As we continued the drive, people honked and waved at the flag on the car.  Within days, in the aftermath of this tragedy, there were flags everywhere.
It many ways, it was a long drive home. My son lived in Arlington and worked at the Department of Justice in D.C. I couldn’t reach him by phone. I couldn't find anyone who knew where he was for about 48 hours.

It took a while, but a much shorter time, to reach my sister and brother-in-law also. I was anxious about family and friends in New York and in D.C.

As we’ve been reminded many times lately, it’s been ten years. I remember it like it was yesterday.

It's About Balance and Drawing Lines

WARNING: This is a serious message, not my usual light-hearted scribbling.

Freedom of speech is awfully important to us, isn’t it? In fact, we hold dear all of our basic freedoms, liberties and rights.

Having the right to do something, though, doesn’t mean that “something” should be done.

For example, in our country, individuals have the right to burn “Old Glory,” our flag, the piece of cloth that is a symbol of our wonderful country. That doesn’t mean people ought to burn the flag, however.

Our citizens have the right to burn the Bible – or the Koran or any other book. Again, recognizing the right to carry out these activities doesn’t mean agreeing that it should be done or that we shouldn’t be repulsed when such takes place.


People have the right to demonstrate and picket, whether they are promoting something or protesting against it.

Yes, we have wonderful freedoms in this country as long as we don’t do harm to others and infringe on their rights.

But, just where do we draw the lines? It’s the figurative locations of those lines that concern me. What has brought up the concern this time?

It’s the Westboro Church members who protested with signs near the funeral of 9-year-old Christina Taylor Green. Those church members have the right to speak their minds, both with words and with signs.

But what about the rights of family members during such unimaginable times of grief and sorrow? Not just Christina’s family but also the families of our military heroes who have given their lives? Where are their rights to privacy?



Do we take away the free speech rights of picketers? Or do we allow the demonstrations but instead restrict the time and place?

For example, should we allow them to march with signs but not within an hour prior to a funeral service until an hour after the service? Do we restrict them to an area outside close proximity to the funeral service and burial site?

This is another time when I have questions but no perfect answers.

What do YOU think?

~                    ~                  ~                   ~

Thank You to Our Veterans

America! America!  God shed his Grace on thee.

And crown thy good with Brotherhood

From Sea to Shining Sea!

Thanks to our veterans for our "sweet land of liberty."

May our liberties always remain and may they never be taken for granted.


A special thanks to some of my personal favorites:

Hubby, Karl J. Duppstadt a/k/a Dupp & The Duppster

 

 

 

Daughter, Tiffany Martschink - US Army

 

 

Dad, the late Ryan Shealy - USN

The Dawg, the late Carroll T. Smith - USAF

Numerous family members/relatives,

 including Ross Shealy, Ted Koon, Jack Buyer,

Steve Buyer, Pat Spence, Jud Spence, the late Judson Spence;

Veterans in my Sunday School class and church;

Countless other friends and acquaintances.

To ALL Veterans,

THANK YOU!



~    ~    ~    ~

 

 

 

Lindsay, Michael, Brian, Matt and More

This is what my oldest daughter, Tiffany (pictured on the left), posted on Facebook several days ago: Can you believe the news coverage being given to a spoiled 20-something this week? Lindsay WHO? Here are a few 20-somethings worth knowing about: Justin Allen, 23; Brett Linley, 29; Matt Weikert, 29; Justus Bartett, 27; Dave Santos, 21; Chase Stanley, 21; Jesse Reed, 26; Matt King, 23; Chris Goeke, 23; and, Sheldon Tate, 27. These 20-somethings gave their lives for you this week.

Tiffany hit the proverbial nail on the head, didn’t she? Where ARE our values? Far more people know the name of Lindsay Lohan than the names of those young members of the military who made the ultimate sacrifice.

Has the loss of life in the military become something that is just a number, just a statistic in the news? And are our values as a society such that we idolize celebrities like Lindsay Lohan?

Similarly, does the name of Brian Bradshaw ring a bell for you? No? He was the 24-year-old soldier who was killed in Afghanistan on the same day Michael Jackson died – June 25, 2009. A Pacific Lutheran University graduate, Bradshaw was, according to his aunt, "…a search-and-rescue volunteer, an altar boy, a camp counselor … [who] carried the hopes and dreams of his parents willingly on his shoulders. What more than that did Michael Jackson do or represent that earned him memorial 'shrines,' while this soldier's death goes unheralded?"

I am not questioning Michael Jackson’s talent or that of Lindsay Lohan. What I question is the attention given to them and the lack of attention to our young people who are true heroes.

There's More to Celebrate than Independence

Ah, July 4th - that good ol' American holiday in the heat of the summer.  Fireworks, food, families, friends, music, flags.  And, today, since the 4th falls on a Sunday, faith is one of the words to include.

We Americans are proud of our independence, as well we should be.


Sometimes, though, I think we ought to recognize and celebrate our interdependence as well. We wave our flags and celebrate independence, but, in reality, we are truly an interdependent nation, an interdependent people.

In other words, we depend on each other.

We depend on the military to protect our freedoms and independence.

Think about just any one routine day. Most of us depend upon the person who delivers the paper, the person who delivers the mail.

Perhaps we depend on those who write the news articles in the newspaper. We depend upon those who deliver the news on radio and TV.

We depend on other drivers to travel with care.

We depend on teachers, firefighters, law enforcement officers. We depend on farmers, wholesalers, retailers.

And baby-sitters, nurses, doctors, pharmacists.

We depend on friends and family to be there for us, in good times and in bad. We rely on retailers and clerks; bankers and advisers; cooks and chefs in restaurants; employers and fellow employees.

We depend on architects to design and engineers to build safe buildings, bridges and roads. We rely on inspectors to look out for consumers. We depend on bus drivers, pilots, train conductors.

We trust and depend on counselors and religious leaders.

We depend on others and others depend on us. We depend on our own prayers and on the prayers of others, just as others sometimes depend on our prayers for them. 

It’s fine to celebrate our independence, but perhaps we ought to take time to reflect on just how interdependent we are as well. Can you think of several people who depend on you? How about people you depend on? Who are they and why do you rely on them?

This interdependence is a trust in others to do their jobs well, to be real friends, to be supportive family members.

We can’t do without each other, can we? As John Donne wrote, “No man is an island.”

How fortunate we are to have each other! How fortunate we are to have not only our independence but also our interdependence.

                                                                   ~    ~    ~    ~

Cookouts? Beach Trips? Golfing?

It's okay to spend Memorial Day with friends at the beach or lake, or having a cookout, or even golfing.  The important thing, though, is to take time to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we might enjoy our freedoms and lifestyles. 

Whatever the war, wherever the battle, we must not ever forget!

Several people e-mailed the following to me and I thought they were worth sharing on this site. 

Oh, No! I Missed It!!

                                                                
              

Oh, no!
I missed one of my very favorite annual observances this year.

Saturday, December 5th, was Bathtub Party Day – and I missed it. Did you?


This celebration reminds me of one of my all-time favorite poems. It’s by the creative genius/poet Shel Silverstein (1930-1999):


                                                       Crowded Tub

                                                       There's too many kids in this tub.
                                                       There's too many elbows to scrub.
                                                       I just washed a behind
                                                      That I'm sure wasn't mine,
                                                     There's too many kids in this tub.

For years I read stories and poems weekly to elementary school students. They all loved this poem, as well as most others by Silverstein.

Now that I’ve missed one of my favorite observances, I am hereby officially reminding myself of another favorite that comes up next Wednesday, December 16th: National Chocolate-covered Anything Day.




Those are both fun days and observances, one in the past, one in the future.

Today, though, is another special day - National Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. It’s a day to be reminded of Pearl Harbor but also a good time to say “thank you” to all veterans and to all current members of our military.

So, a big “THANK YOU” to all!

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

I Remember Hugo: Twenty Years Later

Twenty years ago tonight, Hurricane Hugo came ashore in coastal South Carolina and then moved inland.

At the time I was a member of the SC state senate. The district I represented bore the brunt of Hugo. It was a long but relatively narrow district along the coast, including McClellanville, Awendaw, Isle of Palms, Sullivans Island, Mt. Pleasant, Folly Beach, James Island, Johns Island, Seabrook Island, Kiawah Island and surrounding areas.

As much as I like to write, I just can’t think of the words to adequately describe how ravaged the area was, how extensive the damage was. It was just beyond comprehension.  In South Carolina, 13 lives were lost.

Where there used to be a home, there was a single chimney or perhaps just the remnants of a bathroom. Another house was literally split in two. There were mattresses in what used to be front yards. Thousands and thousands of trees were upended. Trees made holes in rooftops – where rooftops remained. The only bridge leading to Sullivan’s Island and on to the Isle of Palms was damaged and could not be used. People could not return to their homes, or even visit to find out if their homes remained. Water flooded many homes that actually remained standing.

I could go on and on and on about the devastation, because it certainly went on and on; it was widespread and far-reaching. Instead, I want to share three particular remembrances.

Within days, I went up in a Black Hawk helicopter with Billy Graham, Gov. Carroll Campbell and Rep. Harry Hallman. We looked at the destruction from the air. What a view that was! Billy Graham, who certainly has traveled throughout the world, said it was the most extensive destruction he had ever viewed.

A second vivid memory is the spirit of community that came out of this terrible event. People helped each other. People worked together. There was a charitable, giving, caring, helping spirit among all. For weeks many of us didn’t have electricity and water. We were all dirty together. Neighbors shared food, chain saws, the much-treasured ice and water. It was a heart-warming experience.  At our home, since we had a large outdoor grill, families gathered nightly for food.  People brought food from freezers that were no longer working and we all cooked and ate together.  And churches that could be used were used.  People returned to worship services in tremendous numbers.

The third memory is of a sight in the small fishing village of McClellanville. In the midst of piles and piles of rubble that used to be homes, someone had planted a large American flag. It represented the epitome of the American spirit. It said, “We are going to be okay.”

It took many, many months, even years, but, yes, we eventually were okay. People joined hands and made it through those times which, at first, seemed overwhelming and almost insurmountable.

 
 
 
Flickr photos by scmikeburton, band4atl, japee and michelinecallicot.

911 - Where Were You?

Nine eleven. 911. 9/11. 9-11.

No matter how you write it or how you say it, those of us in the USA know what it means, don’t we?

Where were you on the morning of September 11, 2001?

I was driving by the Pentagon, having just left to return to South Carolina. My then-husband and I had driven to Arlington to take my almost six-month-old nephew home to his parents. We spent the night of the 10th, then got up on the 11th to drive home. We had planned to leave between 8 am and 8:30 but it was more like 8:45 when we actually left my sister’s house.

As we approached the Pentagon, I wondered aloud why there were police officers everywhere and why there were roadblocks being set up on the entrance and exit ramps.
Because we were listening to an audio book, we didn’t have the radio on. Shortly, though, the cell phone rang. We heard that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Immediately, we switched from listening to the book to listening to the radio.

We continued to drive south, trying to get news and trying to figure out what had happened. Soon, we learned of the second plane attack on the World Trade Center. And then the Pentagon crash. And then the news about the Pennsylvania crash.

This was more than the mind could fathom. During some stretches along I-95, it was difficult to get clear radio signals, but we picked up bits and pieces as much as possible. It became clear that the country was under attack.

We started looking for an American flag to put on the car. We were determined to show our pride in America. At the first exit, we couldn’t find an American flag to purchase. Nor could we find one at the next exit. Or the next. In fact, it took us many stops and about 200 miles to find a flag. We bought several.

It many ways, it was a long drive home. My son lived in Arlington and worked at the Department of Justice in D.C. I couldn’t reach him by phone. It took a while to reach my sister and brother-in-law. I was anxious about family and friends in New York and in D.C.

It’s been eight years. I remember it like it was yesterday.

What about you? Where were you? What were your thoughts?

Michael Jackson and Us: Why Am I Even Writing About This?

Add me to the list of those not quite understanding all of the hoopla surrounding the death of and memorial service for Michael Jackson.

He died on June 25th, the same day my husband, The Dawg, died. It’s been 12 days.

Yes, Michael Jackson died at what our society considers an early age: 50.

Yes, Jackson’s death was a surprise; it was unexpected. We knew Farrah Fawcett was seriously ill and nearing death, so when she died on the same day, it was not a shock.

Perhaps some people thought Michael Jackson was healthy. As the clips of Michael Jackson from the last year or so fill the television screens, I see someone who walked as though he were drugged on occasion, or on several occasions. He didn’t look healthy to me.

Yes, there are questions and suspicions about Jackson’s death. How did he get the drugs found in his system? How did he get those quantities?

Michael Jackson was a talented musician and a terrific performer, but other performers have died in the last few weeks: Karl Malden, Gale Storm, Billy Mays, Fred Travalena, Ed McMahon, David Carradine, for example. Were they as sensational as Jackson?

Probably not.

Nor were they as controversial. Questions and allegations were a big part of the last several years of Jackson’s life. Some even described him as “freakish.”

Still, the coverage of the aftermath of Jackson’s death has gone beyond the pale. (No pun intended.) Today the three major networks are changing regular programming to cover the memorial service.

This kind of treatment is usually reserved for presidents and royalty. The last time I remember so much hoopla was in 1997 when Princess Diana was killed in a car crash. But, of course, Jackson was royalty of a sort; he was the “King of Pop.”

Probably more influential to music, though, was James Brown, the “King of Soul.” There was no such extensive coverage for him.

Yesterday, seven American servicemen were killed in Afghanistan. Those are the heroes and they are the ones who deserve the coverage.

Where are our values?





Jackson photo from Wikipedia.

Declaration of INTERdependence?

Yesterday was full of celebrations. Fireworks, food, families, friends, music, flags. We Americans are proud of our independence, as well we should be.

Sometimes, though, I think we ought to recognize and celebrate our interdependence as well. We wave our flags and celebrate independence, but, in reality, we are truly an interdependent nation, an interdependent people.

In other words, we depend on each other.

We depend on the military to protect our freedoms and independence.

Think about just one routine day. Most of us depend upon the person who delivers the paper, the person who delivers the mail. Perhaps we depend on those who write the news articles in the newspaper. We depend upon those who deliver the news on radio and TV.

We depend on other drivers to travel with care.

Generally, we depend on teachers, firefighters, law enforcement officers. We depend on farmers, wholesalers, retailers.

We depend on friends and family to be there for us, in good times and in bad. We rely on doctors, nurses, hospital personnel; cooks and chefs in restaurants; employers and fellow employees.

We depend on architects to design and engineers to build safe buildings, bridges and roads. We rely on inspectors to look out for consumers. We depend on bus drivers, pilots, train conductors.

We trust and depend on counselors and religious leaders.


We depend on others and others depend on us. After my husband - The Dawg - died ten days ago, I depended on many people - and still do. In his last weeks, he depended on me to do things he had always done for himself. We depended on our own prayers and on the prayers of others.


It’s fine to celebrate our independence, but perhaps we ought to take time to reflect on just how interdependent we are as well. Can you think of several people who depend on you? How about people you depend on? Who are they and why you rely on them?

We can’t do without each other, can we? As John Donne wrote, “No man is an island.”

How fortunate we are to have each other! How fortunate we are to have not only our independence but also our interdependence.

In God We Trust

The following is used by permission from the author, Chaplain Glen Krans. He asked that I also acknowledge www.sermonillustrations.com. This "Thought for the Day" from Chaplain Krans is perfect for Independence Day.

This year the United States of America is 233 years old. That's a long time for a nation to remain free. But when you look at nations such as Egypt, China, Japan, Rome, and Greece who have been around for thousands of years, America's history seems short indeed.

Consider what a brief time we've really been here as a nation: When Thomas Jefferson died, Abraham Lincoln was a young man of 17. When Lincoln was assassinated, Woodrow Wilson was a boy of 8. By the time Wilson died Ronald Reagan was a boy of 12. There you have it. The lives of four men can take you all the way back to the beginning of our country.

We are young and yet we stand tall among these nations because of the principles on which we were established: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness”.

This is what we celebrate: the inalienable rights that we have and the fact that we believe they have been given to us by God. Both truths are important. We can debate whether God has blessed us with liberty and therefore we are free, or whether we have wisely and simply built our liberty based on biblical principles. In either case our freedom is from God.

When America was first established as a nation, the feeling was that God had given us an opportunity to do something great! Each person had value and rights. Our democratic society was to reflect that and be run by rules that embody those values. AND THERE WAS ALWAYS AN UNDERCURRENT OF DEPENDENCE ON GOD AND GRATITUDE FOR HIS DIVINE GUIDANCE. You will see that language in every major speech delivered by our founding fathers, in our Constitution, and in each and every preamble to each Constitution of each state in our union.

The difference between then and now is this: even though we still focus on the same values, many Americans have forgotten that God has given all this to us. The result of that denial is that it has become nearly impossible to have a moral conversation in our society. When we deny that this conversation is rooted in God, then it all comes down to “me” and we are left with no common language of moral discourse. That is, when we stop choosing one course over another simply because we know it to be the right thing to do; when we live as though freedom meant doing what we want because we have the “right” to do it; when we have no ability to talk about those principles and mandates beyond ourselves that determine what is true or false/right or wrong; then we have chaos.

19th century French writer, de Tocqueville, after visiting in America in 1831, said, “I sought for the greatness of America in her commodious harbors…and it was not there. I sought for it in her rich mines, her institutions of higher learning…and it was not there. I looked for it in her democratic Congress and…matchless Constitution…and it was not there. Not until I went into the Churches of America and saw her pulpits aflame with righteousness did I understand the secret of America’s genius and power. America is great because America is good. And, if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.”

This is an important part of what it means to say, “In God We Trust”. It’s not just a slogan, a tip of the hat to the good ole boy upstairs, a hopeful expression that God will continue to favor us as a nation and shower us with blessings as individuals. It means that our lives are built upon faith and trust; on respect for each other based on a goodness that God has taught us, and upon the belief that the very future of our free society is in God’s hands.

On this Independence Day weekend we confess that our freedoms and our blessings as Americans are gifts from God. These are gifts that cannot be repaid—that’s the nature of a gift. But there is a debt of gratitude that our hearts recognize and that we willingly take on. “In God We Trust” also speaks of that debt.

God Bless America!

Every Blessing,
Chaplain Glen Krans