Dallas continues to be in the grips of a record setting summer. By Friday 8/12/2011 we will have tied the record for the longest consecutive number of days over 100 and there is no end in sight. The bad thing is it is not really cooling down at night. 10 pm and it is still at or near 100. Lows are staying in the high 80s. To add to the problem after a spring where we thought we would blow away no there is no wind at all.
In the midst of all this Charles and Heather have moved back to Dallas. Charles has taken a position with a new firm and they found an apartment in the Northpark area. Pam and I are glad to have them back but moving in the heat was less than fun. Heather is currently finishing up with her job and will join Charles here at the end of the month. She is looking forward to starting a new career as of yet undetermined. After four years of litigating for the State of Kansas on child support cases she is looking for something more up beat.
Pam has decided on her retirement career. She will be working with our Church and its Pre-K programs teaching reading skills three days a week. I am still undecided. I have been spending a lot of time carving and am being told by those who have seen the product to sell them. I may play with that a while before committing to anything else. I have surprised my self so far having taken no lessons and only reading a few books (Reading my be a bit overstated as most carving books are mostly pictures.
I am currently grand dog sitting and it is funny to watch our two spoiled cats share their castle with Sophie. Sophie is a LapsaPoo and wants to be friends with the cats in the worst way. Sophie is the only dog our cat Smokey has ever seen and since we got him as a kitten from a friend who fosters for the ASPCA he hasn't been around that many cats. Blaze who we got from the Plano animal shelter was the cat used by the shelter to test dogs to see if they would tolerate a cat. That is how I found him at the shelter he was in the room with a couple and a dog. I wanted a gray and white cat that was calm. He seemed to be undaunted by the dog and the couple. When I asked the attendant if they were adopting the cat he said oh no Blaze was their test cat. He got along well with dogs so they would bring him in when someone wanted to know if the dog would get along with a cat. Oddly enough in our house Blaze is the shy one. He also has a different outlook on dogs these days. It seems he knew how to get adopted. Oh yeah the calm thing didn't turn out to be true either. He tears around the house like a banshee doing acrobatics and then looking to see if I was impressed.
Off to take the dog for a walk.
Hope you have a great day.
Bruce
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Just An Old Cedar Box
This is the story of an old cedar box. For some this will bring back memories for others it read like ancient history. None the less this is the story of a 70 year old cedar box and its transformation.
Lane is a name most people today would recognize for it's furniture but there was a time they were best known for a specific piece of furniture - cedar chests. Cedar Chests were a part of everyday life and many if not most families had one. The reason, they repelled bugs specifically moths. So most would use them for storage of sweaters and other woolens that would become food for moths in the summer months. Many women also used them as a hope chest. A hope chest was where she would start gathering special things for the day when she had a family and home of her own. My mother came from a farm family in a very rural area of South Texas often referred to as the Rio Grande Valley. My grandparents did not get electricity until the 1950s and indoor plumbing about 1958. Oddly enough the only cedar chest my mother ever owned was this small one. Oddly enough my wife Pam is also from a farm family in South Texas though not as far south. Her mother (Alva) did have a cedar chest as did her aunts. While Alva's was redone and is in Pam's sisters house we have one of her aunts that we had redone by a very talented restorer in San Antonio. Even after 70 years the inside of that chest still has the cedar aroma.
The Lane company would make small cedar chests and give them to graduating senior (girls). I believe the practice stopped in the mid 1970s though Pam did get one when she graduated in 1970. The practice was most common in rural areas with the local furniture store distributing the boxes. Pam's was destroyed or lost in one of our moves. My mother's that she got in 1940 however survived. My sister brought it to me out of storage recently. Though it was not in the best of shape I manged to put it back together. I converted the box from hinges to slip in top. The old cedar had simply become to dry to hold the hinges. After some sanding being careful to retain the lane stamp and the furniture store tag I decided to carve the box. Sanding the box proved interesting as once the finish was removed the box still had a strong Cedar smell. It is amazing how many of our memories are triggered by smell however, that is another story.
Now the decision to carve the box was a risky decision as the wood was dry and brittle and I had to limit my designs due to the wood condition. I decided to put some of my mothers favorite things on the box. On one end we have a shell. My mother loved to collect shells. She and my father went to the beach in Corpus Christi often, he would use his metal detector and she would look for shells.
She also enjoyed feeding the seagulls. If you have never been to the beach in Corpus the seagulls are quite entertaining and will mob you if they think you have food.
For the top I chose a carved rose. My mothers name was Rose and she always enjoyed them as well.
The front has two angels and a heart. My mother was committed to her church and enjoyed it most when her children were together and attended with her and my father.
For the back I went with on of her favorite bible verses (which seemed appropriate) and her name and year of birth and year of death.
Inside the top lid you will see the manufacturer's mark
On the bottom the store that gave it out and most of the label that lane put on the bottom. I have also painted in the information on when my mother got the box and signed the carvings. I did little to the boxes bottom except add new pads. Small box turned into a family keepsake.
If you are thinking of doing something similar here are a few things to consider.
Perhaps this story will give you some ideas for an old battered keepsake hiding in your attic or storeroom. Pam and I have done a number of these projects turning damaged old quilts into stuffed toys for nieces and nephews as well as framed mementos. While we are not big on keeping clutter we like turning something with history into something a family member can keep an display replete with all the memories that go with it. If you have an old deteriorating treasure go and make it something new with those special memories attached.
More to come
Bruce and Pam
Lane is a name most people today would recognize for it's furniture but there was a time they were best known for a specific piece of furniture - cedar chests. Cedar Chests were a part of everyday life and many if not most families had one. The reason, they repelled bugs specifically moths. So most would use them for storage of sweaters and other woolens that would become food for moths in the summer months. Many women also used them as a hope chest. A hope chest was where she would start gathering special things for the day when she had a family and home of her own. My mother came from a farm family in a very rural area of South Texas often referred to as the Rio Grande Valley. My grandparents did not get electricity until the 1950s and indoor plumbing about 1958. Oddly enough the only cedar chest my mother ever owned was this small one. Oddly enough my wife Pam is also from a farm family in South Texas though not as far south. Her mother (Alva) did have a cedar chest as did her aunts. While Alva's was redone and is in Pam's sisters house we have one of her aunts that we had redone by a very talented restorer in San Antonio. Even after 70 years the inside of that chest still has the cedar aroma.
The Lane company would make small cedar chests and give them to graduating senior (girls). I believe the practice stopped in the mid 1970s though Pam did get one when she graduated in 1970. The practice was most common in rural areas with the local furniture store distributing the boxes. Pam's was destroyed or lost in one of our moves. My mother's that she got in 1940 however survived. My sister brought it to me out of storage recently. Though it was not in the best of shape I manged to put it back together. I converted the box from hinges to slip in top. The old cedar had simply become to dry to hold the hinges. After some sanding being careful to retain the lane stamp and the furniture store tag I decided to carve the box. Sanding the box proved interesting as once the finish was removed the box still had a strong Cedar smell. It is amazing how many of our memories are triggered by smell however, that is another story.
Now the decision to carve the box was a risky decision as the wood was dry and brittle and I had to limit my designs due to the wood condition. I decided to put some of my mothers favorite things on the box. On one end we have a shell. My mother loved to collect shells. She and my father went to the beach in Corpus Christi often, he would use his metal detector and she would look for shells.
She also enjoyed feeding the seagulls. If you have never been to the beach in Corpus the seagulls are quite entertaining and will mob you if they think you have food.
For the top I chose a carved rose. My mothers name was Rose and she always enjoyed them as well.
The front has two angels and a heart. My mother was committed to her church and enjoyed it most when her children were together and attended with her and my father.
For the back I went with on of her favorite bible verses (which seemed appropriate) and her name and year of birth and year of death.
Inside the top lid you will see the manufacturer's mark
On the bottom the store that gave it out and most of the label that lane put on the bottom. I have also painted in the information on when my mother got the box and signed the carvings. I did little to the boxes bottom except add new pads. Small box turned into a family keepsake.
If you are thinking of doing something similar here are a few things to consider.
- Is the item worth more to you than a collector.
- Is the item sound enough to survive the process.
- Does the item contain is it finished in a toxic finish (Many old items can be finished with paints that are toxic or contain lead).
- Do you have a clear plan and have you tried the designs on scrap to insure they will turn out as you wish.
Perhaps this story will give you some ideas for an old battered keepsake hiding in your attic or storeroom. Pam and I have done a number of these projects turning damaged old quilts into stuffed toys for nieces and nephews as well as framed mementos. While we are not big on keeping clutter we like turning something with history into something a family member can keep an display replete with all the memories that go with it. If you have an old deteriorating treasure go and make it something new with those special memories attached.
More to come
Bruce and Pam
Friday, July 15, 2011
It Has Been Hot!
Sorry for the lack of post but we have been hiding from the heat. So there is not a lot to post at the moment. We are used to getting about 10 or twelve 100 plus days in a summer. Usually in late July and August. However it is usually broken up by more normal (for the area mid 90s). Now I know five or six degrees doesn't seem like a lot but coupled with this summers very high humidity (really I don't live on the coast for a reason and that is humidity) it has been unbearable. We are how poised to take second place as the hottest summer on record since 1980 and that was the hotest ever recorded in this area. It has not been cooling off that much after dark either as it is usually still in the mid 90s by midnight. Lows have been in the mid eighties.
Look for a slew of new posts on my woodcarving blog in the next few days as I have been hold up in the craft room carving.
Hope it is cooler where you are.
Bruce and Pam
Look for a slew of new posts on my woodcarving blog in the next few days as I have been hold up in the craft room carving.
Hope it is cooler where you are.
Bruce and Pam
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Father's Day 2011 - Credit Where Credit Is Due
Peter H. Curran Sr.
July 1921 - Jan 2004
(Now those Hawaiian Shirts I favor make sense)
Kenneth Royal Wheeler
Sept 1913 - Nov 1962
(Also pictured are Pam and Pam's Mother Alva)
One of the unintended or perhaps unrealized effects of age is that holidays become less a cause for celebration and more an occasion for remembrance. Perhaps, for Pam and I none more bittersweet than Mother's and Father's Day as both sets of our parents have passed on, leaving us to carry on in a manner we hope they would be proud of.
With Father's day rapidly approaching my thoughts have turned to my father and Pam's to hers. We lost my father in 2004. I was lucky enough to have him around for a big part of my adult life. Pam did not share my luck as she lost her father when she was 11. He died of cancer in 1962.
With that brief introduction the title probably is self apparent but none the less this post is giving credit to our fathers and the role they played in both our childhood and the role those lessons played in our adult lives.
I never had a chance to meet or get to know Pam's father but I feel I know him well from my now almost 36 year relationship with my wife and her family. I understand the values that were important to him because I see it in her daily. A value set with a very close congruence to my fathers.
These days I find myself channeling my father more and more, or perhaps I just have come to realize it more as my vision is less clouded with where I am going and how to get there and more focused on how to enjoy what that journey has afforded us, and some consideration of how all of our journeys end and what that means for those around us.
With the luxury of hindsight and the perspective of age I am constantly amazed by my parents (not to mention Pam's) and what they were able to accomplish. Not in the monetary sense but in the bigger picture of family. I find myself looking to my father's impact on my thinking and world view to understand this phase of my life. I now understand the changes he weathered as he transitioned from father to grandfather, from the world of work to the uncertainty of retirement.
My father was in my younger years a bit of a puzzle to me. Raised by his mother with no real interaction with his father (a far more complex story that I would attempt to tell here) how did he learn to be a father. I have obliquely inferred I learned from him, so let me be clear I realize as a parent I was my father with the edges softened by my mother's impact. Just as Pam was her mother with shadings of her father. I get we are formed in large part by our parents. Perhaps that is why I am so dismayed as I look at many family's today (Again a topic far to complex to insert in this discussion).
My father was an interesting individual and that was not just my opinion. My father could hold his own in any discussion and could walk up to a complete stranger and in a matter of minutes they would be laughing and carrying on as if they had know each other for years. I never saw my father be intimidated by anyone yet he himself was not intimidating. He was more inclined to teach with humor that with volume. Here was a man who shunned the corporate world for the life of an educator. Who as an educator obviously had an effect on his students. It was rare for us to go anywhere in Corpus and not see at least one of his old students most in their fifties who still vividly remembered him. I have tried to come up with a list of my old teachers and you know I can only remember a very few. There is obviously more to say on the subject than I have the ability to articulate. To that end here is my attempt:
Things I Learned From My Father
(Without Realizing He Was Teaching Them To Me)
There is only one way to do anything, The Right Way!
Family is the most important thing.
There is never a reason to be cruel (to a person or any living thing).
If you are going to do something commit to it or don't do it at all.
Your name is all you have, never compromise it.
Faith is not a crutch you lean on, it is the foundation you build on.
Don't be afraid to take ownership of your actions.
Don't do anything you have to apologize for but if an apology is needed make it sincere.
Never tell a lie then you don't have to try to remember them. (More correctly "The truth is best in any situation")
Action is louder than words. Having done it accept responsibility for the outcome.
You can never go wrong when you do the right thing. (Perhaps we need to teach our politicians this one).
Everyone and everything has value or God wouldn't have put them here. (This one is so hard)
It's Family, God, Country, then Self and the order never changes. ( I know, realize to my father Family and God were the same thing as he accepted God as the head of his family).
A top ten list it is not. There are no zingers here, just the absolute truth as my Father saw it. ( besides there are more than ten) Is the list definitive, by no means. I could make it much longer but I think I have made my point and so I will follow perhaps one of his most important lessons:
Say what you have to say then shut up ( Won't say I have mastered this one).
Happy Fathers Day
Bruce and Pam
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day 2011 - Service Remembered
The minister of our church has a tradition of asking the families of service men who died in battle to stand to be recognized by the congregation. He then asks all the veterans to stand with them. It is a moving moment and amazing how many there are. Though most are as old or older than me. It got Pam and I to thinking about the family members who have served.
My Grandfather
Charles Howard Curran Ph.D. - WWI - Canadian Expeditionary Force - Second Lieutenant - Battlefield Commission from Sergeant.
He served in the Canadian Expeditionary Force during World War I and was wounded by machine gun fire in 1917. He would be an important asset to the United States Military during WWII as one of the foremost experts on Insects in the Pacific (and consequently disease born by these insects). He served as consulting entomologist to the U.S. Civil Defense Voluntary Service from the beginning of the war to the end.
I always thought he looked a bit like Errol Flynn in this photo.
My Grandmother
Beatrice Wylie Curran - WWI and WWII - U.S. Army - Nurse - Captain
A nurse during WWI and WWII she was with the first group of nurses on the Philippines and Okinawa. I believe she was a captain at the time this picture was taken.
The only picture I have of her in the field. My understanding from her friends was she disliked her picture being taken and had destroyed most of the pictures that she had from the war. My father somehow had this one.
She would never say much about her time in the South Pacific. However, we were able to piece together from some of her friends who served with her that she was the one who took the soldiers with the worst wounds and the least hope and many survived due to her strong will and stubbornness. In her later years she moved to Uvalde where we lived and it was my job to take her to the VA when needed. She and the other vets there always had a lot to talk about and it seemed she always found someone with which she shared a common knowledge of people and events.
My Father
Peter H. Curran Sr. - U.S. Army Engineers - Corporal - Heavy Equipment Operator
Served in the US Army in an engineer battalion. Was stationed at Harlingen Texas. His group was training for the invasion of Japan. To say my brother and sister and I exist due to Harry Truman's historic decision to drop the bomb on Hiroshima is probably an understatement. Engineer battalions in the South Pacific took very heavy casualties. Additionally he would meet my mother while stationed there.
I should note that my mother worked on base for the army as a secretary. Dad was a corporal.
My Aunt
Gay Curran - Women's Canadian Air Force - WWII - Rank unkown
Gay served in the Canadian equivalent of the WACS which as I understand it functioned as part of the RAF. I have few pictures of Gay and very limited information about her service. My father and consequently his family saw my aunt very infrequently. He had decided to stay in Texas and she lived in Canada.
My Uncle
Howard Curran - Post Korean War 1950s and 60s - Lieutenant - Retired
Uncle Howard was my father's half brother. He served as a Navy fighter pilot in the late fifties and early sixties.
This is the only picture that I have of my Uncle Joe, he shared his father's tendency to avoid cameras. One the interesting notes about my Uncle Joe is that he loved music and wrote a number of songs during his life. Several were recorded with modest success during the late forties and fifties. He spent most of his life in construction.
Then there was me
Bruce E Curran Ed.D. - United States Navy - Petty Officer Third Class - Sonar Technician - early 1970s - USS Brooke
Yes I really was that thin. This picture was taken just before I made Petty Officer. I served as a Sonar Technician. The story of my enlistment and how I ended up in Sonar is a long one and best left to another day.
USS Brooke - DEG-1 (Later changed to FFG-1) This picture will give you some idea of how big this ship wasn't. The sonar crews living quarters were two decks down foward of the gun you see on deck. Our stations were just behind the command deck (The windows behind the rocket launchers). This picture is from the time just before the ship was decomissioned and sold to Pakistan in the mid 1980s. It was returned and scrapped in 1994.
I have no photos but, from my family I had several cousins that I know of who served as well.
Sammy Genovese - Vietnam - U.S. Marines - Rank Unkown
William (Willie) Genovese - USN - 1980s - Rank Unkown
Don Evans - U.S. Army (I think) 1960s - Rank Unkown
Pam's Father
Kenneth Royal Wheeler - Pre WWII - U.S. Navy - USS San Franciso - Seaman First Class
USS San Francisco (CA-38), 1934-1959
The San Francisco as it would have looked when Kenneth served aboard. Discharged in 1940 he served aboard ship when it patroled the Atlantic on "Neutrality Patrols" after the outbreak of the war in Europe in 1939.
Pam's Brother
Kenneth Alonzo Wheeler - U. S. Air force - 1960s - Rank Unkown
Pam's Brother
Joe Roy Wheeler - U.S. Army - Vietnam - Combat Medic 1960's - Rank Unknow
Pam's Brother in Law
James Bennett - US Army - Vietnam - Retired - Colonel
Pam's Uncle
Earl Stephenson - U.S. Air Force- Retired
Pam's Cousin
Larry Dean Wheeler - U.S. Army - Vietnam 1960s
Pam's Cousin
James Wheeler - U.S. Navy - 1960's
Pam's Cousin
David Van Strien - U.S. Air Force
Pam's Niece
Hillary Wheeler (Jones) - U.S. Army - Trauma Nurse - Mid 1990s
I am sure that I missed someone in this list. I found may pictures but will have to look for more before Veterans Day and hopefully update and flesh out this list further. While there are many stories to tell I wish I had paid more attention to them when I was younger. With so many gone the opportunity to understand their service and what drove and motivated them to serve is also gone. To those that are still here I will make a point to rectify that as soon as possible.
There is a lot that can be said about service and the cost of freedom but I want to close with the words from a recent and a particularly relevant song.
I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice
at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had led
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
In June of 1944
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
I'm in the fields of Vietnam,
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin'
I did not die in vain
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary we're so tired
But we can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
'Til the last shot's fired
Say a prayer for peace
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
But we can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
'Til the last shot's fired
Here is a link to the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zs9RB7aPKe4&feature=player_detailpage
Here is to hoping that we live to see the last shot fired.
Memorial Day is set asside to remember. Remember the lives, the service, the sacrifice and in some cases the loss of so many. Something we too often take for granted and too seldom acknowlege. My family was lucky all of our service members came home. Many not the same but they did come home. Far too many families were not that lucky. Only recently did we begin to understand the true cost of service and the permanent changes that those who serve in battle undergo.
Memorial Day 2011
God Bless
Bruce and Pam.
My Grandfather
Charles Howard Curran Ph.D. - WWI - Canadian Expeditionary Force - Second Lieutenant - Battlefield Commission from Sergeant.
He served in the Canadian Expeditionary Force during World War I and was wounded by machine gun fire in 1917. He would be an important asset to the United States Military during WWII as one of the foremost experts on Insects in the Pacific (and consequently disease born by these insects). He served as consulting entomologist to the U.S. Civil Defense Voluntary Service from the beginning of the war to the end.
Professional portrait for his first book
The cane in the picture is due to his injuries. This was taken in Belfast Northern Ireland in 1919 shortly after the armistice
My Grandmother
Beatrice Wylie Curran - WWI and WWII - U.S. Army - Nurse - Captain
A nurse during WWI and WWII she was with the first group of nurses on the Philippines and Okinawa. I believe she was a captain at the time this picture was taken.
The only picture I have of her in the field. My understanding from her friends was she disliked her picture being taken and had destroyed most of the pictures that she had from the war. My father somehow had this one.
She would never say much about her time in the South Pacific. However, we were able to piece together from some of her friends who served with her that she was the one who took the soldiers with the worst wounds and the least hope and many survived due to her strong will and stubbornness. In her later years she moved to Uvalde where we lived and it was my job to take her to the VA when needed. She and the other vets there always had a lot to talk about and it seemed she always found someone with which she shared a common knowledge of people and events.
Peter H. Curran Sr. - U.S. Army Engineers - Corporal - Heavy Equipment Operator
Served in the US Army in an engineer battalion. Was stationed at Harlingen Texas. His group was training for the invasion of Japan. To say my brother and sister and I exist due to Harry Truman's historic decision to drop the bomb on Hiroshima is probably an understatement. Engineer battalions in the South Pacific took very heavy casualties. Additionally he would meet my mother while stationed there.
On Guard Duty
I should note that my mother worked on base for the army as a secretary. Dad was a corporal.
My Aunt
Gay Curran - Women's Canadian Air Force - WWII - Rank unkown
Gay served in the Canadian equivalent of the WACS which as I understand it functioned as part of the RAF. I have few pictures of Gay and very limited information about her service. My father and consequently his family saw my aunt very infrequently. He had decided to stay in Texas and she lived in Canada.
My Uncle
Howard Curran - Post Korean War 1950s and 60s - Lieutenant - Retired
Uncle Howard was my father's half brother. He served as a Navy fighter pilot in the late fifties and early sixties.
My father pinning on Howard's Wings. Corpus Christi Naval Base 1957 He was an Ensign when this picture was taken.
My Uncle
Joe Genovese - U. S. Army - Infantry - Private - late 1930s.
This is the only picture that I have of my Uncle Joe, he shared his father's tendency to avoid cameras. One the interesting notes about my Uncle Joe is that he loved music and wrote a number of songs during his life. Several were recorded with modest success during the late forties and fifties. He spent most of his life in construction.
Then there was me
Bruce E Curran Ed.D. - United States Navy - Petty Officer Third Class - Sonar Technician - early 1970s - USS Brooke
Yes I really was that thin. This picture was taken just before I made Petty Officer. I served as a Sonar Technician. The story of my enlistment and how I ended up in Sonar is a long one and best left to another day.
I have no photos but, from my family I had several cousins that I know of who served as well.
Sammy Genovese - Vietnam - U.S. Marines - Rank Unkown
William (Willie) Genovese - USN - 1980s - Rank Unkown
Don Evans - U.S. Army (I think) 1960s - Rank Unkown
Pam's Father
Kenneth Royal Wheeler - Pre WWII - U.S. Navy - USS San Franciso - Seaman First Class
Pam's Mother Alva and her father 1930s
USS San Francisco (CA-38), 1934-1959
The San Francisco as it would have looked when Kenneth served aboard. Discharged in 1940 he served aboard ship when it patroled the Atlantic on "Neutrality Patrols" after the outbreak of the war in Europe in 1939.
Pam's Brother
Kenneth Alonzo Wheeler - U. S. Air force - 1960s - Rank Unkown
Pam's Brother
Joe Roy Wheeler - U.S. Army - Vietnam - Combat Medic 1960's - Rank Unknow
Pam's Brother in Law
James Bennett - US Army - Vietnam - Retired - Colonel
Pam's Uncle
Earl Stephenson - U.S. Air Force- Retired
Pam's Cousin
Larry Dean Wheeler - U.S. Army - Vietnam 1960s
Pam's Cousin
James Wheeler - U.S. Navy - 1960's
Pam's Cousin
David Van Strien - U.S. Air Force
Pam's Niece
Hillary Wheeler (Jones) - U.S. Army - Trauma Nurse - Mid 1990s
I am sure that I missed someone in this list. I found may pictures but will have to look for more before Veterans Day and hopefully update and flesh out this list further. While there are many stories to tell I wish I had paid more attention to them when I was younger. With so many gone the opportunity to understand their service and what drove and motivated them to serve is also gone. To those that are still here I will make a point to rectify that as soon as possible.
There is a lot that can be said about service and the cost of freedom but I want to close with the words from a recent and a particularly relevant song.
Til the Last Shot is Fired
Trace Adkins
I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice
at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had led
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
In June of 1944
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
I'm in the fields of Vietnam,
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin'
I did not die in vain
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary we're so tired
But we can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
'Til the last shot's fired
Say a prayer for peace
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
But we can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
'Til the last shot's fired
Here is a link to the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zs9RB7aPKe4&feature=player_detailpage
Here is to hoping that we live to see the last shot fired.
Memorial Day is set asside to remember. Remember the lives, the service, the sacrifice and in some cases the loss of so many. Something we too often take for granted and too seldom acknowlege. My family was lucky all of our service members came home. Many not the same but they did come home. Far too many families were not that lucky. Only recently did we begin to understand the true cost of service and the permanent changes that those who serve in battle undergo.
Memorial Day 2011
God Bless
Bruce and Pam.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Precious Memories
Rose Curran and Her Parents Angela and Samuel Genovese
(Wedding Day Santa Rosa Texas)
Precious Memories
(J.B.F. Wright 1925 Hymn Traditional)
Precious memories, unseen angels
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger ever near me
And the sacred past unfold
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger ever near me
And the sacred past unfold
Precious father, loving mother
Fly across the lonely years
And old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appear
Fly across the lonely years
And old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appear
In the stillness of the midnight
Echoes from the past I hear
Old time singing, gladness bringing
From that lovely land somewhere
Echoes from the past I hear
Old time singing, gladness bringing
From that lovely land somewhere
As I travel on life's pathway
Know not what the years may hold
As I ponder, hope grows fonder
Precious memories flood my soul
Know not what the years may hold
As I ponder, hope grows fonder
Precious memories flood my soul
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
It Has Been a Wild Spring
I do not ever remember a Spring that has been this windy and boy have we had the weather swings. After a very dry April May was ushered in with rain and a chilly couple of days in the high 40s low 50s. It rained for about 24 hours straight and we had no less that 4 separate incidences of hail during this period. Sunday night was a sleepless one between the thunder and the hail. Not to mention the cats that were clinging to us as they don't like all the noise and commotion of the thunder and the hail.
If you click on the pictures below they will enlarge and the hail will be very apparent.
If you click on the pictures below they will enlarge and the hail will be very apparent.
The veiw from our front door at 1AM Monday Morning
Some samples
The view from our back porch
Our back patio cover has taken a beating this spring but I am unwilling to do anything to it until this storm season is over. For some reason I seem to be the only one who sees a pattern the news keeps talking about the last bad outbreak in the seventies and the one before that in the 30's. It seems we have been moving in 40 year cycles or am I the only one that noticed that. I can remember growing up my Mother talking about the severe weather in the Rio Grande Valley prior to WWII. I remember the 70's myself. Seems we are in for the next round.
I have been working with a friend on her house and with several neighbors on our common fences. I will post pictures soon. Needless to say I am now aware how out of shape I had become.
More Later
Bruce
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