LEARNING TO DRIVE

How did you learn to drive? Or, would you rather forget that moment of your life?

Driving is not an at-birth ability. It is a specialized type of knowledge we acquire, usually with guidance of a parent, sibling or stranger. If you have a choice, take the stranger. We need to acquire such an ability to get along in this modern world. Often, we base our very continued existence on how well we learn to perform the simple task, too.

I remember when my Dad first drove a car. It was in 1924. He had bought a brand new Ford touring car - black, naturally, because that was the only color Mr. Ford made them in, and as a new car owner he was expected to drive the machine. A major part of the sales talk, then was a promise for the dealer to to teach you to drive.

The affable sales per person drove the new car to the gas pump and as a free gift to go with the purchase. He then urged Dad into the driver's seat and explained the procedure one-two-three. Dad was a quick learner and he started off into the highway with amazing ease ...just a bit of gear grinding, but that, he was assured, that would stop in time. He drive to the East end of town, circled the block and started back to the garage. Along the way, his instructor had him stop and park several times which were pretty much the same thing, because there were only a few other cars on the road .With those subtle tasks taken care of, they went by the garage where Dad “dropped the salesman off”. Dad then drove across town to our apartment, where we were waiting, he knew, to take our first family-style drive. My sister, Margaret, was an infant in mother's arms and did not have any comment. We were all experienced riders, of course, because my Uncle Andrew had a massive Saxon touring car in which we had ridden many times.

We two boys, I remember, were were pleased and proud of our Dad, at the wheel as we looked for people we knew to whom we could call to make sure they saw us riding. Dad did very well, too and I have often thought of his haphazard training. He drove until he was ninety - something; went down renew his license once; did so, and turned the piece of plastic in a the very next window. He realized he was, as he put it,”too to be out there on the highway with all those crazy people!”

A.L.M. April 29, 2003 [c641wds] .

 
CLAYHILL#3 -THE PAYNTER!

Melvin Clayhill, especially as he grew older, became a last minute talker. He came by our house one evening at about seven to talk some building we had a mind to do, and at l0:30 he had been standing at the back door saying good-bye for an hour or more. He had a story to tell."jus' one more, 'n I gotta go".

I had learned to stay with him when he was in the mood, because he had a supply of stories which was untapped.

" I wuz on my way home, a'walkin' , you might know. I wuz all alone there in the dark night. Ne'r you mind, why I was so late, now – that' no bizness of yur'n,'' 'He mused for just a moment.'“Oh., she were a pretty gal, I tell you! Now, Brother Timothy had gone home afore dark, you see and I wuz runnin' late."

"“Well, I won't zackly runni'n'', but I was moving along real fast, because it was too quite out there! It was one of them strange nights when the crickets don't sound out; when they's no birds chatterin' in the tree tops and when the moon wuz hid by scudding clouds washed o're ie like huge, fat hands chocking the life out'n it."

"“Suddenly, I realized there was a noise; one I had not heard, as if something something smooth and hairy was a-slitherin' through the low brush n' small trees along the side of the road itself road. I moved to the exact center of the dirt road, walking uneasily on the middle ridge of the narrow road; sorta of equal-distance from both shadowy sides and ,when the moon splashed clear for a few second, I saw what I feared .. what I had heared."

There was two round eyes with narrow dark slits a-lookin' square-front at me! A paynter"

Now, you being a flat-lander, may not know that word. It's Clayhill for"panther” by which I knew Melvin meant he was accompanied by some type of a wildcat - anything feline will do wildcat, bobcat, - all could be paynters – many of which were roaming and always hungry,in the Blue Ridge Mountains just east us. We all avoided them. Not just Melvin, respected them, you might put it and I readily understood Melvin's fear on finding that one of them was monitoring his ever move as he was hurried along that murky, tree-shrouded road.

“I'm' bein' tracked by a real, live paynter! I told myself and when I moved faster, sure enough, it moved along faster in the brush I could hear it, now, to clear nd closer, it seemed. I wished the moon would stay hid ;'cause I din't want to see the critter - just a few feet away in the brush.”

“They was no end to it! That pacin' and listenin'! l went on 'n on 'n pretty soon, I knew I was a'gittin' close to our house. I dreaded that moment when I knowed I had to turn right acrost the path of that paynter to get into our lane. I thought, that's when that ole paynter will pounce! Right then,as I turn he'll pounce ''n break my neck! I wisht I had a big stick, but I din' dare stop to find one! Let's face it. Ain't often I been scairt, but that was one time I was scairt right down to the soft stuffin' in my bones!"

"Well, sir. I guess I paniced when it came time to turn, but the house was just a few yard away now and I had to run the rest of the way. I must have been a'callin ' fer 'Help! Paynter' Suddenly, just ahead of me, I seen my Daddy come a bustin 'out'n the door just ahead of me which his rifle in hand and as I whizzed by him into the house he let fire with c-a-a-rack that shook that side of the world!"

“I missed 'im!”admitted my father when he came in. ”Big 'un, too! As fine a paynter as ever I seen put a paw on this place, I tell you! He seemed puzzled that he could have failed to hit something so large.”

"“Hit were many a year a'fore he told me they won't nothin' out there. Well, as fur as he could make out, but he fired at what might have been there. He was a good, loving, protective Father, our Daddy Brutus Clayhill, - real good. Taught me a lesson, he did - that night. Come home early, afore dark like brother Timothy did."

"“I had to agree. Ain't no gal that pretty!"

A.L.M. April 28, 2003 [c1097ds]

 
VIKINGS IN EIRE

I find it difficult to think of any two national warrior images in world history such as the traditional, rugged, sharp-tempered, native Irishman meeting with the unwanted presence of an adventurous, hardy and heavy- handed Viking from Norway's rocky shores.Those two, together, would make for an explosion with dire consequences for anyone who chanced to be close by.

They met when the Vikings appeared on the Irish coastline in 745 AD. We are told they arrived in their ocean-going long boats which were, far and away, technically advanced far ahead of any water craft the Irish had ever seen. Their fast vessels were of shallow draft, too, which allowed them to enter freely into rivers and estuaries with ease which previous invader had never done.

The Vikings were, at that time interested primarily in looting for things they could transport home as spoils of war.. They quickly discovered that the best sources of such wealth were the prosperous monastaries which were widespread. Rathlin, Inishmurruy and Inisbofin and other unpronounceable monastery sites were ravaged again and again. The were stripped of provisions, precious art works, cattle and captives. The raids by the Vikings were erratic in nature areas seeking provisions on which to exist and prosper. Raids may be made six moths or a year apart, giving the monastic establishment time to recover and lay in new supplies. That was from 745 AD and it does not appear that any Viking group stayed "over winter" they set up such a location in 842 AD at Dublin.

Then in the 9th century the Vikings set up more permanent settlements at some of their larger base camps, at Cork in 846 AD and at Waterford in 850AD. The Irish responded by building high rock towers as defense centers and for a time seemed to be making progress. By 902AD the Viking had been driven from their strongest foothold in Dublin .The defeated Vikings took refuge in Wales There was a general lull in the raids for some sixty or more years and Ireland made some notable recovery.

A great fleet gathered off Waterford 914 AD, however, and that fleet started a second Viking invasion of Ireland that lasted from 914 until 969 when Limerick was freed and Irish rule resorted, first to the isles of the Shannon.

It may be worth a second look at the inner workings of the Viking incursions. Part of the reason they failed to take Ireland, even as a superior force, was the fact that they were a divided group despite their unified appearance. The leadership was sometimes Norwegian and at others Danish and they were often fighting each other. Then, too, historians and tellers of tales - not the best among the world's mathematics experts, perhaps, have magnified the exploits of both sides, perhaps. Someone has counted up the number of recorded Viking raids on Ireland over the entire period of the Viking attacks. The grand total is an unimpressive sum of forty-three raids during the entire Viking period.

More than one thing, it appears, was not what it was thought to have been. It may be proper for us to examine with care the true and actual nature of those who attack us during our own time of Terror, as well. Is our enemy as unified, in a religious and ethnic sense, as we think them to be? Or, are there factions within? Do they vie with each other to their mutual disadvantage? And - are our own stats accurate?

A.L.M. April 27. 2003 [c962wds]

 
POST WAR MOMENT

During the days of WWII , transitions were taking place faster than a person could keep up with them. Those of us coming out of military service found it to be a changed world in so may ways.

I came home for one month of leave before, it appeared, our outfit was to reform and head for Japan to help finish up that part of the War. The Bomb changed all that, of course, and we went on a round-robin of Air Bases, our squadron fragmented, bits and pieces of it floating around with no re-assignment. The idea became simply "“to get out " and I spent my time at Sioux Falls, S. D. and then at Deming, New Mexico until in November they found my discharge papers at Edwards Field, Md.

I bring that up now, because we have G.I.s in that same process of "coming home" from what has proved to be a shorter war but a very real one just the same for those who were in it. I was in it for better than four years, half of that overseas. Changes took place while I was away,such as the coming of TV.

To me, television, even in those early days, seemed to be the symbol of a bright future for many of us. I don't remember seeing at TV at Sioux Falls, at Edwards Air Base, or at Deming New Mexico, but one of my several brothers-in-law had TV set in his farm-house living room at Friendly, Maryland. Oddly enough, I remember seeing only two shows – Paul Whiteman and Milton Bearle. Both did radio shows with pictures. It was a DuMont network station, and it was either the only on the air in the D.C. Area, or more than likely, the only one we could “get”.

The armed forces people now returning from Iraq and other areas will not meet with the large changes we did, of course, but it is still important that the civilian population - which is us – “meet them and greet them''. I am not talking about any grand public receptions or fancy “Welcome Home” festivities, at all, of course, but about small insignificant everyday things so commonplace we tend to forget them. Worst of all, we don't what to give the idea were never away.
That which strikes you as being "norma", may or may not, seem so to him or her.

In theory, they will be coming back to their former place of place of employment, if it's still there. In theory, they will pick up on family relationship where they left off, yet unaware, perhaps, of subtle changes. Some may go 'back to school” without realizing that they are not in the mood to go “back” to anything. The true promise is in their future - not years ago, that that is where we play an important role. Without being emotional or dramatic about what they have done for the nation and for each of us.

Just say "Thank you" the best, most natural way you know how. Say it sincerely and from the heart and they will understand and feel at home once more. Remember, as you do so, that very few of us at home, if any, really know all the individual person felt when he or she was away. You can never really know.

A.L.M. April 26, 2003 [c836wds]

 
MAVERICK THE MAN

For some reason it proved difficult for me to associate the term "maverick" with a person - one man. It had always symbolized a stray, abandoned, scruffy and unmarked critter on the open ranges of the American western states.

It was a part of the verbal aura which surrounded the verbal patina which encrusted our special view of the Old West and kept it secure from change for us as devotees of the western films of long ago.

We had our own images of the way things should be ...saloons, cowpokes, gamblers, madams, boarding houses, and a maverick was an unbranded calf.

The man, Samuel A. Maverick was, I understand, a lawyer. He missed being at the Alamo with other Texas freedom fighters, because he had been elected by those who were there to be their representative to a forthcoming conference which would write the Texas freedom concept out as a legal document. He had come from South Carolina to Texas in l835 . At age twenty four, he was a rancher, and young man who was yet to take part in the Southern Cause when he accepted the job of being Assistant Treasurer of the Confederacy.

Even with all that, he would not have been remembered by most us except for one thing he did not do ...something he refused to do... which set him apart his fellow Texas ranchers. For some undisclosed reason which has never been made clear to me, Samuel A. Maverick would not brand his cattle. Yet, since they roamed the range with the polyglot herds bearing many symbols of ownership, and his unmarked animal caused confusion and trouble for other owners. So Maverick became the term describing any unbranded critter.

I have yet to come across a creditable reason why Maverick would have been so touchy about hot-iron-branding cattle. He was , certainly , not squeamish about such a thing, and it was far too early for the Animal Rights people to be on his neck. We'll, most likely, never know. It may well be that he was simply more of a lawyer than he was a cattleman.

He, was, we might say, a maverick.

A.L.M. April 25, 2003 [c568wds]

 
SST'S OUT!

It seems to be set.

Both the British and French are adamant about closing their trans-Atlantic SST service. That pretty much puts the damper on my own dream about taking a quick trip on one of them some week-end. Truthfully, my projected flight was quickly curbed the day years ago when I first saw the price of passage from here to there or from there to here.

I have a strong feeling that price may be among the many reasons for discontinuing the the zip trip schedule. It seems that the thousand dollar-and-up price has not been a major cause of anyone staying home. We may well have lost a few citizens, however, because a favorite plan was to fly from here to London or Paris on an SST flight, and then, for contrasts in time and comfort, to take the Queen Elizabeth back from there to here. I see not accounting covering the actual number of people who anted up a wad of wampum for the air fare needed and who, then, had to stay in Europe long enough to save up enough currency to pay their sea fee to come home. I find no dependable tally totally the travelers who never made it back.

A word from your travel agent: Travel people suggest you go to Europe by sea it and return by SST. Why? It's faster coming this way. Then too, if you go broke, it's better to be broke at home than in a critical credit card country.

They're big, those SST's, and common talk has it they are planning to put them in museums for people to gawk at. The SST was not meant to be a still-life specimen at all. It looks best in flight with a combination dragon fly/preying mantis stance especially when it is about to land. It has been an efficient plane in many way and has suffered only one disaster which strikes me as being a remarkable record. It was so far ahead of its time; ahead of the actual need for such a plane and they are old in technical ways which were not known when they were on the drawing boards.

a.l.m. APRIL 23, 2003 [c533wds] .

 
WHATEVER BECAME OF....

Some years ago, about twenty - now that I bother to tally them up - I remember reading some glowing accounts of a new product which was being introduced to the always-eager world of air conditioning consumers.

It could have been called Polar Aire, I suppose, because it was a basic concept swiped from Mother Nature who outfitted the polar bear with hair that is actually like a slender tube leading from the black skin surface to the clean air. The result: a cooler polar bear. Wafted about by body action of the bear and by the wind and turmoil of an active lifestyle, each hair acted as a channel moving hot air to cooler areas.

The inventor had duplicated the structure of the polar bear hair and mounted a four-by-four foot collection of such air-hairs in a pad in the roof of the house where they would cause hot air from the attic to be released into the air above the house. A small fan in the edge of the hairy array, urged it to do so faster.

It was touted in the "New Products" section of some of the many trade publications of the industry for a few weeks, then, apparently shunted side and forgotten. I bring it up now and then and people are really surprised. They have very little trouble accepting the fact that the structure of polar bear hair is rather unusual and might well been used in air-conditioning, but they cannot bring themselves to believe that such a white bear has black skin.

By this time I expected to see our rooftops bristling with bear hair, by someone must have decided it was not good for Santa's reindeer to graze upon such artificial stuff. It is amazing how we can adapt ideas from Nature. Nettles and burrs became paper clips and Velcro cloth; even air conditioning apparatus – early Indian inhabitants of the Luray, Virginia area are said to have inserted sections of hollow cane through the mountain walls to channel the cool air from the many underground caverns of the area... 57-degree, year round temperatures - into their hillside caves, shelters and and hogans.

A.L.M. April 22, 2003 [c579wds]

 
FLIGHT

Many of us have been reading a great deal concerning the first flights made by Orville and Wilbur Wright from the sands of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina in 1903.

Such anniversary dates, it seems, cause writers and editors to dredge up everything that has been written concerning such subjects and re-publish them in a special flow. It is easy to become sated on a set subject.

Before the subject of the Wright Brothers is set aside in favor of another date of importance, may I recommend you read an article in Smithsonian Magazine. It is in April 2003 edition, page 50, written by James Tobin titled "To Fly" It is, in my estimation, the best of the current spate of praise and acclaim.

For me, this article seemed to to be a worthwhile addition to the the remembering the exploits of the Wright Brothers. So few writers, delving in the sometimes rather musty backgrounds of these two bachelors of Dayton, Ohio fail to show us why and how could, or would, be driven to undertake such a puzzle as flight. He emphasis their “meticulous attention to detail" which was the hallmark for everything they did. They were undertaking something which was being investigated by some of the leading minds of their time, many with sufficient financial backing to assure stability to the project, and the author returns again and again to their innate sense of exactness.

One example, when then Wrights realized the slightest crash of their craft often caused delay and expense because joints of the wing structure pulled apart an had to be repaired or replaced -absorb time and money. They were concerned, too, about the overall weight of the craft and other sought to devise a new kind of connective. In place of wooden dowels which weighed less than metal screws, clamps or nails, they substituted short lengths of cord or rope, used as dowels, pressed from each end in a touch of strong glue. It was steps such as that creative and innovative idea which enabled the Wrights to enter the competitive field with a glider model which weighted only 112 pounds; light enough for three men to lift it and place it in any desire position. Little attentions to small details, such as this, and their special realization of natural ways of wing design – gull-inspired - combined and caused them to have to hold the craft down at times to keep it from flying away alone and unguided by itself in Kitty Hawk's brisk breezes. “Suddenly" the writer observes," they were no longer holding it up but holding it down".

Excepts from James Tobin book do more to set the Wright Brothers apart from being two bike mechanics who chanced upon the means of true and sustained flight. He deals forthrightly with their problems and we witness "“the meticulous attention to detail" which puts them well ahead of others.

A.L.M. April 21, 2003 [c792wds]

 
GUNDALOWS

The technical term for the long, flat-bottomed boats used so successfully on the Shenandoah River in early Virginia history seems to have been pronounced with the accent on the second syllable as gun-DAL-los Regardless, of the way it was said, there is a basic likeness to the European term gondola.

The inland waterman who ranged the scrawny length of the Shenandoah River from it's sources in the upper reaches of the Appalachian Mountain range down to Harper's Ferry, in what is now the edge of West Virginia,built and used these home-made river craft

These versions of the crafty built along the Shenandoah River were often exceptionally large and were designed for that one ,maiden and only trip down river. They ranged in length from sixty to ninety feet, ten or more feet wide. The boat itself was so crafted that all materials used could be sold downstream as building materials or other uses. Many of them were built at Port Republic, the uppermost end" of the rover where it divides into North and South forks. Some were also built at New Market which was at the highest navigable spot on the North Fork.

A loosely planked raft of logs served as a base for the flat-bottomed boats, they were4 bound together with such planking and vines and sapling strips. They were built “bottom up” or “top down” on dry ground beside the river, and when the time came for the turning overof the basi, pre-fabed bottom portion it was a festive occasion for all with music making, dancing, parties and other celebrations. Once on the water the shallow craft was loaded quickly with with wood and other products from the forests, all manner of farm produce, saplings for barrel encirclements, edible mes s f for both man and beast and – most important of all and pig iron ingots from the many foundries scattered all along the Blue Ridge, Massanutten and Appalachian ranges as well as from he within the Shenandoah Valley itself.

Haste was important once the vessel was launched because much depended on riding the level of water moving in the stream. A much prized ability must have been that of anticipation of rain upstream and the river-lore knowledge of how it would affect flow down to the market place.

The entire crew - when everything had been sold in the Harper's Ferry market area, the crew would walk back to Port Republic or New Market where they would build yet another such disposable ship of commerce.


A.L.M. April 20, 2002 [c687wds]

 
QUANDARY

Whom do we believe?

“Yes,” the Iraqi people “love us.”

“No,” the Iraqi people “hate us”.

I get both versions daily often with nightly repeats and numerous echoes from other media people.

No one seems to pay too much attention to the origination of such views. We are to assume, it seems, that the items are being reported by someone physically present with and standing among the common Iraqi populace, reporting their feeling directly to us. Or, could it be mere drivel composed by someone at a stateside “news desk”?

I find myself wavering at times . Are American's “hated” or “loved”?

Perhaps it could be seen as some of both.

Why?” indeed, and “How?” When did all of come about?

I feel our coverage of the war news has been enhanced by the new policy of “embedding” personalities with specific outfits where they will stay instead of popping in and out during lulls action. The reporters become part of the outfit; they bond with with their fellow members and, as a result, we are witnessing some of the best coverage we have ever seen or heard. They witness the immediate reaction of the people. Personalities who have become stale in their regular routines on TV, are being given a new opportunity to develop into into worthy journalists. I listen for their view concerning the happiness of the common people, and trust them far more readily than I do the far-off readers of the Arabic newspapers.

If I hear conflicting reports of the degrees of “hate” and “love” being expressed by the people of Iraq, I am urged to find out who said so. We have defeatists right among us, people who are politically motivated to seek personal advancement at the expense of our national well-being; persons who pander to a segment of malcontents here at home who never see anything other than gloom and despair whatever happens.

The situation in Iraq is far more complex than most people here can imagine it to be. The religious differences, alone, are very marked and they, in turn, dictate political affiliations which are not exactly fine-tuned to any ideas of compatibility or peace. The populace is apprehensive concerning its local leadership and fear any foreign power follows because they know themselves to be weak and, hence, vulnerable.

Back off a bit. Give it some time. It's far too early to decide if they like or dislike us. Your confident attitude can reassure them toward a positive stance.

A.L.M. April 19, 2003 [c712wds]

 
ON TOP OF THE WORLD!

There is no feeling created by Disney engineers that quite equals the joyous exhilaration youngsters feel when they find they can actually walk on stilts!

Suddenly, you are eight feet tall!

The cumbersome hulk of the Earth no longer tugs at you. You are a bird in flight, or a wisp of free air sweeping over vast spaces!

Stilts are said to have been “developed” rather than ”invented” may centuries ago as a practical means of helping French shepherds to move about more readily on swampy, marsh land areas. It was found that a good pair of stilts, skillfully used, also vastly improved his lookout status, giving him a far broader range of sight.

My only pair of stilts I ever had and the only ones I ever needed, were hand made by my Grandfather John Loeffert at the Box Factory he owned and operated in South Norfolk, Virginia (now called Chesapeake).They were sturdy and had three levels built-in. There were metal rods at one, two and three foot levels, set between two uprights into which the “feet” where clamped by inserting a sliding hook into the slot and putting a bit of weight on The level could be changed easily changed by inverting the stilt; pounding on the step to loosen the grip it had on the internal rod and replacing it in the desired, new level.

My brother Al and I learned to walk easily, as I remember it, at the lower level, a least. Then we advanced the two foot level and that became our standard, operational level. We started low, for safety reasons, and I can can still hear our parents cautioning us not to walk at the three-foot level”: “You'll break your urned fool necks!”

We ran races, including relay carrying various hard-to-hold objects such as a tray with cups of water on it, we became adept at exchanging stilts with someone else without dismounting, playing hop-scotch and other games.

To rise above the world of land-bound creatures; to feel the head-in-the-clouds sensation, every kid should have the opportunity to do some serious stilting.

I wonder if they will ever come back and be as popular as they were years ago. If Hula Hoops and Yo-Yo's can make it, certainly there is hope for stilts.

A L.M April 19, 2003 [c646wds]

 
FLOOR FIXIN' (Clayhill #2)

We bought an older house that year.1951, I think it must have been.

We realized it need "some fixin' up" and among our initial project was the repair of the floor in a single-storied, add-on appended to the north side of the two-storied frame house. It had been added, we were told, by the sons of the original owner as their father grew old and was bed-bound. It became downstairs bedroom for him in his final days. It was sized so he could lie abed and reach light switches on either side of the room with a cane. It was next to a bathroom, too. Very sensible, we thought.

Subsequent owners of the house did not use the room, but we coveted it as a den, office or library area... to be lined with books, surrounding a desk and typewriter.

When we did a "walk through “ of the house the center of the floor was occupied by a pile of discarded clothing items. It was a collection of once colorful feminine apparel since the previous occupants had been a mother and her two post-teen aged daughters.The mound was part of the cleaning out of a good many years of living. It was only when we removed the memorial pile that we discovered the floor was rotted through by a roof leak which had been patched too late,

We hired the Clayhill brothers, Melvin and Timothy, to repair the floor. They came by to look at what was needed and they were back next morning at seven to begin work. I had seen, and heard, the Clayhill brothers work before and knew what to expect. Their rather unusual M.O. was closely allied with conversation. As soon as the hammers started pounding, or saws whirring., both Melvin and Timothy, started talking to each other. Of necessity, they had to talk louder than most people do and the result was a running conversation punctuated by hammer blows and other construction noises. To this day, I remember what they talked about. That's how I know it was early in 1951 because their main topic of discussion was about a hot news topic.

Melvin started it, I'm sure – with the first hammer blow:. “That feller Truman knows what he's doin'! He done right to fire that fancy-pants General MacArthur!” Timothy disagreed. “Don't know that's true at all! What's he done that ain't right? Name me one thing...just one....!” The hammer continued, and there was a splintering of wood as they ripped up part of the old, rotted floor.

Melvin: “He messed up there in them islands you remember, don't you? Had to go back!” Timothy warmed up to the opening subject and started quote Biblical passages, which was his usual tactic. I left because I had other things to do, but outside I could still hear the carpenter clamor and comment. I don' t think they ever stopped talking, because the next time I was in the house they were still at it... working away, but they had veered away President Harry Truman having sacked General Douglas MacArthur.

Precisely at noon, they announced they were quitting for the day, because they had promised a nearby farmer they would finish up some work they were doing for him. The very next morning at seven, there they were back again. I stayed around to hear the opening salvo with Brother Timothy in charge. They were off, mouths running, with the first hammer and they were reworking a favorite subject: “sin and suffering in the world and why God allows it to happen”. I had to leave. I don't know, but I can imagine what their opposite views might have been.

The Clayhill boys were an odd team. They drove separate pick-up trucks They worked only together. If one became ill; the other one would not work alone.

A.L.M. April 18. 2003 [c1014wds]

 
SQUID STATS

Certainly, many interesting things have been in the news this month of April 2003. Among them , I think, was the story about a group of New Zealand fishermen, catching a rather impressive squid.

It was a young female of a certain type which grows ever larger than the so-called “Giant Squid”. They usually stay below 2000 meters, and are know to be an extremely active killer at depths of 6,561 feet, This dainty female weighed in at 300 pounds. It was sixteen feet long and it had razor sharp hooks in its tentacles. Its eyes measured about the size of your favorite dinner plate. Squid authorities say that, if this female had been allowed to grow into an adult stage, the result would be far larger than any squids seen. Their existence does not come as a surprise, because their hooks and beaks have been found in the stomachs of sperm whales for many years. Judging from the many cases in which such residue has been found, it is speculated that there must be a considerable population of such super-giant squid in the Antarctic waters.

This squid has different food requirements too, when compared to the hungry Giant which, normally, chooses small prey. The colossal model going under the official name of Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni ,and most likely, referred to as a “"hamilton"” or a “messo-ham” squid by men and women who talk about such things, also has a favorite food, faring well eating six-foot-long Patagonian toothfish. The eater's large cutlery equipped appendages - arms and tentacles - slashing hooks on tentacles and arms, probably help make the toothfish, tastier and much more tender on the way down.

It is unusual for this particular type of squid to be caught, but several have been washed up in the surf, often in sections, after suffering accidental death. They have been in common “use” among writers of fiction and fable writers in various languages for many years, usually depicted as a fury-driven creatures capable of trapping and sinking large ships. We still have much to learn about marine life in the lower depths of the sea. As we develop abilities need to do so, we can expect a surprise now and then when something unusual turns up. A fully grown “hamiltoni” squid may well be the next. You tend to it, when it does. I'll just sit back here and watch, thank you.

A.L.M. April 16, 2003 [c628wds]

 
PRATT

When I was in grade school; and high school it was not at all uncommon for boys , and some girls, to drop out of school for various reasons. In the mid-twenties, I suppose, it must have been that school officials tightened up a bit on truants and drop outs.

I can remember feeling sorry for those who had to drop out so they could go to work and help their family exist.
Some were just indolent and didn't want to be in school from the start, and, in most cases, we were better off without such trouble makers an misfits.

Some looked and who was born in North Middleborough, Mass. in 1808 viewed it in that manner, and quit school at age fifteen in his eagerness to get started on a business career which he confidently would make him wealthy and admired.

He moved his meager belongings to Boston, first, and then, to Baltimore, where he studied “merchandising”. He did in so by investing in a wheelbarrow which he filled with salable items and worked the streets selling them. Some must have thought him to be a peddler and little more, but he prospered and went on to bigger and better things. During the Civil War he found selling horseshoes to the military to be as worthy occupational sideline and thereafter the “peddler” became a “banker” He dropped out of the peddler scene entirely and became a true businessman with many interests.

Soon we was named to be President of the Wilmington and Baltimore Railway, President of Baltimore Clearing House, and of the Maryland Bankers Association and he gained control of the Maryland Steamboat Company in 1872 and he was also a Director of the Susquehanna Channel for over twenty five years. He invested heavily in fire insurance companies.

Enoch Pratt was a rich man. He had earned the fortune he dreamed about as a high school drop out, but something was amiss – and this, I think echo from his decision to leave school as a youth. He was every bit of the successful businessman he dreamed about becoming, but he realized the people thought of him as a stand-offish loner who's only thought was profit!

In spite of leaving school, he was still a student of living, and he looked about to see what was wrong with his life and why he was so misjudged. He saw an example of what he wanted to be in a contemporary of his - George Peabody. Enoch Pratt re-arranged his life – quite “school“, we might think, and, once more, went totally against logic and became one of the three greatest philanthropists he City of Baltimore has known -...George Peabody, Johns Hopkins and Enoch Pratt.

Enoch Pratt used his wealth to build the Baltimore Free Library, an institution which has prospered and now has twenty-five branches serving millions. He stipulated that the library must “always be free to all” . He opposed slavery. He build a free school and library in his home town of Middleborough, Mass. and donated funds to increase the capacity of the hospital to over one hundred patients.

My reading concerning Enoch Pratt has been rather limited, I agree, but I find it of special interest that, at no point, have I chanced upon a hint of his social life. How he conducted himself? If he married and had children? I wonder how he got along with others, and I hope you will join with me in searching out additional details of his life. We should study this go-getter of a man and his accomplishments.

There is a modern day parallel in progress ,too. We listen rather intently most evenings to a half dozen or so personalities bringing us the day's news. One of them was a high school drop-out.

Now, you can wonder which one it might have been.

A.L.M. April 16, 2003 [c1005wds]

 
SPLEEN
-
Your spleen is shaped like a small, curled up fist, tucked under the left side of your diaphragm. It seems to be one of the least discussed organs of the body and most of us don't even know its purpose and we remain unaware of what it does to control our general well-being.

Your spleen is the guardian of your life.

No doubt you have known people who, for one reason or another,r such as severe car crash, have ruptured their spleen and had it removed. Many seem to get along well enough without it, at least for a time, when we read they have died of what is usually seen as something totally unrelated to the lack of a spleen. Even after a splenectormy,life goes on... it appears.

In truth, however, after the loss of the spleen, a person very often has problems with overwhelming bacterial infections of the blood. Old folks may call it "poisoning of the blood”... but, strictly speaking,it is known as “sepsis”.

These facts, alone, should demonstrate to us the functions of this vital organ.

The spleen receives blood from an artery from the aorta. I became very much aware of this a year or so ago when my abdominal aorta was suddenly found to be distended and about ready to ...well - “explode” is the exact word, although “pop” might do just as well. The discovery came about accidentally, too, because the x-rays were taken seeking evidence of polyps in the lower intestinal tract.

The blood from the aorta belong the heart is, then, passed through an intricate meshwork of tiny blood vessels, before it is passed along to the liver. Those tiny blood vessels are surrounded by nests of B lymphocytes, mostly of a type which has a “memory” of what has passed by them before. In the blood itself T-cells monitor the flow for any non-self invaders... anything that does not belong there. When they find any thing that is suspicious, it is sent to a memory-B cell for evaluation in relation to what has passed that way before. Once a B lymphocyte has matched a foreign body with those it has on file, it begins to produce antibodies directed precisely against that invading enemy.

A person without a spleen, or with a damaged spleen, does not have have such protection.

In addition, the blood vessels of the spleen are lined with “macrophages” which swallow and digest “debris” found in the blood. That’s what becomes, in case you’ve wondered, of worn- out, discard red blood cells and platelets. This needs to be pointed out because, is disease such as “mono” - mononucleosis - the macrophages of the spleen become overactive and start to trap and destroy a larger number of white blood cells. In such a case, the spleen may become swollen and subject to rupture.


I, for one, think it is important that we all start looking for both medical and common sense guidelines concerning the proper care and management of the spleen. It is far too important to be relegated to a second-place or also-ran position.

A.L.M. April 14, 2003 [c523wds]

 

PRAISE.

Can you take it?

Praise. How do you react when someone compliments you for some little act they appreciated?

It may puzzle you to find that many people, cannot handle praise very well. And yet, it has long ago been realized that people get a pretty accurate estimate of who and what we really are from the manner in which we respond to a compliment.

Today, more than ever before, when communications place us in actual contact with so many more people than ever before, it is nice to be appreciated. How do you react when someone says you are doing a fine job at whatever it is you do?

Oh, yes. It does happen.

Every time you do anything for someone else and they say "Thank you!", they are praising your conduct. We are complemented a dozen times a day and let such praise drift by without reaction. You can always acknowledged having heard the praise, by simply "I'm glad I could help out." Or - " Others do it for me!' or. You say something tending to discount the important of it all. There's no reason for you to look away, drag the toe of your shoe in the dust and turn red. Learn to express sincere praise for others when they do their work well, or extend a special kindness to you or to others you know to be needy and worthy.

Praise pales promptly, too, as a rule. "If you don't use it you lose it!" is a fine, old truism which applies to almost any value in living. It's true of praise - coming and going. If it concerns you that you are not getting the praise you think you deserve, you have special - but not exceptionally rare - problem.

Ovid, who thought about such things as this back in the early AD times ,when trying to determine the character a newcomer asked: "And, how does he receive praise?"

People judge our basic personality though such simple tests They do so without thinking about it. hey don't conduct a survey to determine how it could be to their advantage do so. Praise stems from keep within our true being.

And, it quickly becomes a two-way street, as well. And example: Many years ago a former resident of Soviet Russia wrote what I considered to be a fine one. He had revisited his home area during one of those “de-freezing” lulls Stalin tried. He wrote vividly of his reactions on going home. The book was published here under the title:"House Without a Roof” and a great many potential readers did not realize it was a book about Soviet culture. It dealt with Soviet plans to build many structures ...sturdy walls but never completed to the point at which they could support a “roof” on any of them. I liked the book the very much and I wrote to the author in care of the publisher of the book. A few weeks later I had generous "Thank you" letter from the famed writer - Maurice Hindus -in response to my “Thank You.” I treasure that letter in which he enlarged upon much that had been left unsaid in the book.

Praise that which you find to be honest, sincere and good. It is rewarding in so many ways.


A. L. M. April 15. 2003 [c563wds]

 
BROTHERS

They lived not too far from where I do now.

The house they were born in has long since given way to one of those combination Fuel Centers for Men and Motors. Fast food for slow people, gas for both cars and persons, rest rooms between - all under one roof.

Melvin, the oldest of the two Clayhill brothers, was small-boned, skinny as a kid, and he always seemed to have an inquiring sort of nervous anticipation in his attitude as if he sensed that something important was going to take place at any moment. Timothy, his younger brother, was a chubby kid from the day he was born. He was always taller than Melvin, and from eighteen on he always semed to have a belly on him that was just about ready to fall over his belt but never did. He was friendlier than Melvin, folks said and more like their mother - a Lester girl from down Tuckahoe way in Eastern Virginia.Their dad, Brutus , was Valley stock. His was the only "Brutus" I have ever knew.

Brutus Clayhill had been a carpenter, and good one, and for that reason his boys were automically to be capenters as well. That was the way careers where chosen in those days. Whatever the father did, his sons were were predestined to do the same thing - only better. Melvin and Tim were doubly dubbed because their Granddaddy was said to have been a carpenter of sorts, himself. Some of the work Brutus Clayhill did is still around and people who know such things tell me it shows an extremely competent hand was at work. His sons, however, not exactly carpenters by choice, skipped a generation to be like their granddaddy in that repect.

My own grandfather would have called them "wood butchers”, but that would have been grossly unfair because they did what could be called “rough work”, but they did it well. If anyone needed a new hog pen, a horse stall, feed racks, or an additon to the barn - something useful; and practical - they called the Clayhill brothers.

You always got both of them. They grew apart as they became adults.They each helped build the other a house at least a mile apart; they each married girls from other areas, and lived oddly different lives apart from each other. Yet, they always worked as a team. They worked with each other, or not at all. They came to be commonly understood by farmers in the area, even some folks in nearby towns, who made use of their services.

I realize I have never said a word to you before about the Clayhill Brothers, but not too long ago, someone suggested that they had both been gone long enough now, for me to pass along some of the interesting things those two did,or told about. You will be reading more about the Clayhills - Melvin and Timothy, in the weeks and months, and , I hope, years ahead.

A. L. M. April 14, 2003 [c499wds]

 
SINCERITY

If those nation's which objected so strongly to our war with Iraq now wish to become a central power in the restoration of that land, what might we think of their sincereity?

Just a few weeks ago, they were strongly berating our intentions and seemed to feel the people of Irag did not want or need, any help in ridding themselves of an oppressive dictatorship. They predicted all kinds of difficulties and cried : "Hold Off!.. Wait! ....Not Now!....Never". They depicted our actions as being those of a demented, unthinking brute intent on killing as many innocents as as possible.

What stance should we assume? What position might we choose, or what could, or should be our attitude in regard to this burst of "Me, too-ism". It seems that it comes ,too, not as a suggestion but rather as a request, mainly from France, Russia and Germany, and that does not put the entire thing in a good light at all. It is somewhat ironic because they seem to be intent on giving the impression they are speaking on behalf of the United Nations rather on their own, nationalistic preferences.

We had best ask for, and even demand if it need be that way, an honest accounting from the three powers concerning heir endangered financial holdings in the vanquished Saddam Hussien's Iraq. Both France and Russia were heavily involved in complex deals with Saddam and their priamary concern at the present moment is to see to it that any nedw government set up in Iraq will "honor" the deals they made with Saddam's minnions. They want to be sure they can collect that which the toppled ruler owed them. That was, many people think, the primary reason they stayed out of the war, using UN unity as an excuse, They wanted to prevent, as they still do, any sudden drain on their national money bags.

Only such an accounting could level the playing field a bit to show where everyone stood as reconsruction of Iraq began. This knowledge should be available to all. We owe, at least, a word f appreciation to those who did support us in the war effort even though were unable to contribute funds , supplies or troops to the war effort. Their support was more important than we willl ever know, I dare say. History will show we were not "alone" as so many want to make it seem, in knowing it was the right action to take.

Our ultimate answer to them should be "yes" All nations should work together to restore Iraq, just as all nations should be sending aid to famine stricken men, women and children in Efthiopia. It is time for the UN to awaken to the opportunity it faces rather than to become embroiled in petty nationalist tactics. The United Nations has brought about many positve changes in many areas. It has a strong set of reasons why it should continue. We helped helped to start it; we helped to maintain it, and we will help to sustain it in difficult times.

A.L.M. April 12, 2003 [c434wds]

 
RE-DO

Have you noticed the sudden burst of colorful femanine dress in free Iraq?

None of TV's many "re-makes" have been so impressive. The colorful apparel, the wide,generous smiles, white teeth agleam, and a strange, lanky body posturing are all there in place of the drab, draped, veiled and bundled blobs we saw previously.

The transformation from sad Saddam circumstances and appearance to the present, is a somewhat surprising result of the recent changes, may of them still in process. One gets the idea the wearers of the bright scarves and bodily wear have had them stashed away for safekeeping but ready for just such a moment. Anyone with some bolt stocks of colorfull cloth could be facing a bright financial future. Demand, almost certainly, exceeds supply.

It has come about ,I think, quite naturally and I have a feeling it tells us something about Iraqi womenfolk which we might not have appreciated over recent years. My Grandmother, and yours, as well, would have parroted the maxim: : "Still waters run deep,thed that applies, in a sense, because the docile, obedient, subservient, cowering women of the old Iraq - now departed - is gone and we see a new, excited and exciting promise in vital, spirited, demanding women who are free to be truly active, alert and positive citizens in a land of new promise and challenge.

Since women in Iraq and other areas, have been denied educational equality with men in a formal sense, they have, it appears, retained a basic love of learning and have manage to pass such eagerness along to their children. It would be a sad mistake to ignore or belittle the potential of women in leadership affairs of the new state which is being formed. It is not being built on the wreakage of the old, but, rather on the wishes and dreams of people who feel sure there is a better way of life than living under a greed-structured dictatorship which has been their lot for so many years.

Look carefully at TV reports and you will see women among the men folk in the streets, where they were totally absent a few months ago. Most of us are so used to seeing men and women mingle in public. Some view may even wonder what make it all seem different; even fail to see the new presence.

Look for even more colorful displays among apparal choices in the new, liberated Iraq women and look, as well for the appearance of women among those chosen to manage the affairs of the new nation - not the foremost heads, of course, but lesser tasks which must be done well if the honored males inthehighes place are tobe judges as successful in their jobs.

Iraq's strength and assurance of an enduring future depends of much on a realization that both men and women are co-partners in making it all happen. For the first time in generations women of Iraq are now showing their true colors as nation builders.

A.L.M. Aprlll, 11, 2003 [c431wds]

 
POINTS OF CONCERN

A majority of the people I talk with these days seem to feel that the war with Iraq has progressed very well, including some who have opposed the war in the recent past.

Success breeds confidence, it seems. The rapid advances on Baghdad by United States and British units has won a great many people over according to the quick newspaper polls I have read.

Some disurbing factors exist, however, which deserve attention as the days and weeks roll along.

Let's start with those folks we just mentioned....many of whom opposed the war and were quite critical in the past month and who were won over, you might say, by the fast progress of the troops. These were, in some cases, the very ones who were harping on a long seige theme and voicing fears another bogged-down Viet-Nam. We're less than a month into the actual confict and almost in controlof the ememy's capital city and leading industrial areas.This critics who now speak of "our" troops and "we" as they recount their viewing of the war scene. Any group so easily influenced bears watching. I remember quite well how enthused a Germany youth I knew became when Hitler's blitz tactics moved his armies through the Low Countries and into France. I doubt if most have listened to the cautious voice of our President saying:" the fighting is not ended."

Another point of concern: How can the Senate engage in "pork barreling" by adding scores of highly questionable, expensive items to the military supplmental funds - pet, vote-assurance items which have nothing whatever to do with the war effort? It would seem wise for the noble solons to forego this peacetime plaything for the duration - plus. Members vote without even reading the bulky bill.

One more, and I'll stop.

We must deal wisely with any plans for the future government of Iraq and waiting in the wings exected to be called on stage as stars. These are those nations which refused to go to war beside the U.S. and Britain to bring about this time of renewal. France, Russia, Germany and others who were not concerned about any excesses of Saddam Hussein as long as they were making money selling him munitions, technical items, and supplies of all kinds, are suddenly most interested in helping to rehabilitate the country. Their reasons for doing so are far from feeling sorrow for the Iraqi people.They are intent on seeing to it that the new governmnent accepts resoinsibiliy to pay debts Saddam's government made with them. If the UN is to survive, it must have a part in the restoration of normal living conditions to the people of Iraq, but to " bail out" opposing nations from their unwise, poor and probably illegal busines deals with Saddam is wrong.

Thinking the war is over when it continues to waste lives is unwise. We all have work which needs to be done.


A.L.M. April 10, 2003 [c590wds]

 
OLD DOMINION

How did Virginia come to be called "The Old Dominion?"

It came about because of our loyalty to our king. The designation has been attributed to remarks made by Charles II, but we must to back to the reign of James I who ruled over four dominions - Scotland, England, Ireland and France.

Virginia, at that time, had no official heraldic seal, since it was a colony. Nor, did the king recognize Virginia on his royal Coat of Arms. He did, on several occasions, refer to the colony of Virginia as being his "Fifth Dominion".

His reference became more official when, years later, a Coat of Arms was designed for Virginia. That seal ,in the later part of the 17th Century, had a Latin inscription along it's base which translates: "And Virginia makes the fifth." When England and Scotland were united in 1707 the motto was changed to call Virginia "the Fourth Dominion" rather than the fifth.

Then , to add to the complications, along came Oliver Cromwell - about 1645 to 1660 - when such talk about kings and royal domains were put on the back burner. They were set aside but not forgotten.

Many of the leading citizens of Virginia remained quietly loyal to the King, whom they called "The Prince Over the Waters".Charles II had been exiled to the continent during the Cromwellian era and he became well aware of the loyalty of Virginians.

When Cromwell's power came to an an end, a former Governor of Virginia, Sir William Berkeley was quick to send a Special Mission to France to proclaim Charles as King, even before he might be crowned as such in London. The young King Charles II was so pleased that he blessed his "Old Dominon" which had stood so firmly by him in his years of loss and crisis.

Shenadoah Valley of Virginia were hunted down, hounded and accused of aiding the British during the Revolutionry War. Such groups were found in each of the colonies . In Southwest Virginia even such pioneering stalwarts such as William Ingles were suspected of being Tories ready to hand over the lead mines near Fort Chiswell to the British. Lord Faifax lived at his estate near Winchester and George Washington issued special orders that Fairfax must remain unharmed. Fairfax's lawyer, Gabriel Jones, one of the first attorneys in both Augusta and Frederick Counties since 1745, remained a professed Tory all through the war years. Many of those who loyalty to the King simpy lived out their troubled lives during the years of conflict or went back to England or Nova Scotia. Eastern Virginia , having been longer under royal rule, must have had many Tories, but, they, having dealt with such problems before, were more adept a presenting a neural front.

We tend to think that eveyone was a dedicated rebel. The ideá of kingship was not dead. Many citizens ,for instance, thought that President George Washigton should have been titled "George, the First

Our form of "democracy" did not spring forth in full-bloom. Many individuals,and entire families, have had "to work at it" to become Americans.

A.L. M. April 9, 2003 [c593wds]

 
SOURS' SILVER MINE

Now, the way I hear'd it was that there was this feller name Sours. He were a Scotsman, they say 'n when he come to Luray, he lived up along the hill where the town now gets its water. Well, Scotty dug a tunnel into the spur of one of them low-lying mountain edges and discovered a pure vein of silver.

Folk suspected something was happening, when Scotty started selling off some silverware. He claimed he had found it in a wooden chest in a cave but he couldn't remember exacty where. They were not too well made, the knives, spoons, forks and plate, but people were convinced old Scotty had made them himself of silver he had mined. Well, sir, the Civil War come along, and Sours, a'feerd the armies would come across his mine entrance, blasted out a pillar and avalanced his mine opening to look like a rock slide. It was a natural-enough rock slide, a small slee not as big as those you see today further South along the Blue Ridge. Then, the story goes, he up and died or got hisself kilt in the war and no one has ever found that Sours Silver Mine site. Some keep a'lookin' for it and more than one rock slide has been worked over in the Luray area with hopes that Scotty had stashed away a few un-used bars of silver

There had been other mining done in the area. About two miles north of Luray at the old Yager place they mined for iron ore many years before and wagoned it to Massanutten for to be fired. Then , at the Harshberger Farm above Luray, they opened saltpeter mines during war time when it was needed as base to make gunpowder. It may well have been that in a small mine of this nature that Solurzs could have found his silver. The tunnels were dug under the mountain sides and, even today, you can still see the mark of spades having cut intxothe stubborn soil.There were numerous small saltpeter mines in the area.

Exacty where our's silver came from no one ever knew, but lots of people still think it is somewhere down there waiting to be re-dug. There's been a lot of talk.

I remember adding to the tale myself. I've always wondered what kind of a person this Scotty might have been. He must have been a sentimentl person, from what I have heard, and I think he would have been sensible enough to have marked that slee of rock he blasted over the mine entrance in some way so that he could find it after the War had ended.

This is a "factual" story - one I have come across several times - and I have a strong feeling the story teller's "twist" has yet to be played out. I know of only two places where you patches of wild shamrock-like plants. One is around limestone foundation slabs of an old cabin that used be there on the hill above town. The other is above and below a small rock slee less than a mile up the moutainside. Sours was said to be a Scot but I have found, from personal experience in both Scotland and Ireland, that both the Scots and the Irish play bagpies. A Scotch-Irishman would like Shamrocks.

What better way would here have been to mark a site for rediscovery after the war?

A.L.M. April 8, 2003 [c633wds]

 
POINT OF VIEW

I found it difficult to believe that zoo workers consider the panda and the elephant to be the two most dangerous beasts which which they have to work.

If that be an accurate estimate, then it appears the two designated culprits have the world's best Public Relations teams working on their behalf.

I have heard, of course, that the elephant does have mood swings and that a usually docile, obedient pachyderm can be a weighty problem if aroused. No one needs demonstration of the consequence which might be caused by angering an elephant And, for the very first time, I realized that I have yet to see a photograph of man, woman or child, calmly petting a panda - a newly born panda cub, maybe, but not a full-sized specimen. So, until I find out differently, I'm going to avoid both elephants and pandas.

We seem to know so very little concerning the dangers which we might have to face at any moment, don't we? Aside from the beasts ,for a moment - what about other hazards with which we may contend? September 11th marks the date of such and event for which we were totally unprepared. Since that time, we have had numerous chances to learn many lessons which may help us to avoid any such tragic events in our future. How well have we learned our lessons? Or, have we learned our lessons at all? Do we see big ears and small ears? Which is which? Are you sure about that?

Are we seriously studying the potential minatory aspects of our trusting lifestyle, and failing to consider that the gentle panda bear may not be the gentle animal it appears to be to be, but rather a vicious demanding black hole in our universe working for our undoing? He nibbles bamboo shoots so meditatively and he or she has dreamy, far-away, look in the eye, but looks are deceptive. Are we too trusting of other nations; other peoples? As a nation,do we depend far too much on outward appearances? If I believed that the the panda was harmless, akin to a large Teddy Bear, and that the elephant was subdued as the Flintstone's lovable “Dino” and all but domesticated; if we had a place to keep him, then I can be easily fooled by a human pretending to be something other than what he or she really is!

I, for one, had best learn to keep my guard up a bit more.

I don't know so many things and any one of them could be my undoing. That's true, so often, for each of us.

A.L.M. April 6, 2003 [c448wds]

 
TOWN CLOCKS

"Big Ben" in London is, I suppose, the best example of what a town clock ought to be: big...high..loud , visible from all four sides and well known and respected as the place to get the correct time - day or night.

A good Town Clock is the center of community life. It signals the start of each new day, sets the time for events throughout the day and closes it for some while opening it for other with different hours of work. It's vibrant summons is one of unity, drawing people closer together. Notice how often people refer to it as “our Town Clock “.

If you live in an older community you probably have a version of a “Town Clock”: somewhere in sight. They are, however coming to be quite scarce. They are really no longer needed in the ways they once were. Older ones are not being replaced.

In our time we all wear wrist watches and we have the “time” available from other sources as well: posted in shop windows,,sign along the highways, one the street as well – banks. In particular like to show he correct time as if saying “Time is Money”. We see the time shown on our TV screens, and down in the lower right-hand corner of every computer monitor. Time is all around us! We no longer sit patiently and wait for the Town Clock to sound the hour so we can get along with our business on schedule. Whatever we might do, wherever we may go, time is at hand, every minute of every day and night.

Unfortunately, all clocks are different in subtle ways. They are not always on time, to so to speak. Some are early - running too rapidly; others are slow -not running fast enough. Many clocks of the larger types responded well to penny weights added to their pendulums or to their being removed. It is good that we cannot see all four faces of tower clocks at the same time, because they disagree at times.

When I was a kid, we lived in a railroad town so we had two time systems - "Real" or Standard time and Railroad or N&W time. The jewelry stores downtown had two clocks in their front display windows - one set to show regular time and the other to tell RR time. As I recall, there was about twenty-six minutes difference between the time the sun rose over the Atlantic Ocean at Norfolk,Va the eastern terminus of the railroad line and the time it came up at Radford some three hundred miles away in Southwest Virginia. We paid little attention to RR time and use Standard in everything except in referring to train arrival and departure times and railroad business but it was cumbersome and on its way out even then in the 1920's.

I think we ordinarily blame Daylight Savings Time on Benjamin Franklin. The idea that he did so seems to be a valid one in that it agrees with Poor Richard's idea about economy. For Ben to tinker with Time, in his gadget-ty way would, probably be an accurate accusation. Franklin would have been interested in arranging the hours so the earl, sunlit morning hours might be productive and darkening hours of evening might lead to sleep.

DST came in handy during World Wars I and II and worked well enough with most people to be made a part of our summertime routine. I say "most of us". Some areas still on using "Regular","Real"”,"The Lord's" or "Sun" time, year-round. The main hold-outs are the State of Arizona, and the northeastern counties of the State of Indiana and there are other pockets of resistance, as well. There are some business firms and summer resorts which adamantly adhere to..."real" time which results in six months of confusion each summer.

A.L.M. April 5,2003 [ c655wds]

 

CAN IT EVER BE AGAIN?

It's been a long, long time since Washington D.C. has treated us to a real, old-fashoned filibuster.

Some hints about doing so surfaced recently in the hearings concerning an appointment to the Supreme Court, but nothing came of the threat. That 's a shame, in one way, because young people today need some close-up instructions on what and how the filibuster really was and how it worked. Cloture rules have made it impossible for a Senator to hold the floor indefinitely as they were, in the past, allowed to do.

The word itself comes from from a Dutch term meaning “piracy” and, in one sense, that's pretty much what it was because one Senator stole time from another. Any member could do so, simply by standing up to speak and refusing to yield to anyone else. There was no time limit stating how long a Senator might speak.

It ,at one time, applied to the House as well as to the Senate, b but the House became too big and clumsy for it to b e effective, whereas the Senate stayed pretty much the he same with two added member when a new state joined the union . Rules were set up in the House of Representatives setting up time limits for speakers to favor or oppose a proffered bit of legislation.

In time, Senators became became quite adept at using this right in order to obstruct progress on a bill they did not like. The became quite adept at the practice,too. The records read like some sort of a World's Book of Long Talk Records, with the reigning champion for many years being Senator Wayne Morris (R) of Oregon talked for twenty-two hours and twenty-six minutes at one time without a stop and he had to best others such as Senator Robert M. LaFollette, who held the record for about eighteen hours or so. Then , along came Senator Strom Thurmond, from South Carlina who spoke for twenty-four hours-four hours and eighteen minutes.

Louisiana's Senator Huey Long was a colorful favorite among filibuster entertainers, too, and could hold the floor for hours reading Shakespeare,detailing Cajun recipes and in his own swampy style,and expounding on the affairs of the world at large. One sideline incident which, while not closely associated with the filibuster themselves, has to do with with Clara Booth Luce, who it seems was up for nomination as an Ambassador to some country which was objected to by Sen Wayne Morse, the filibuster champ. She had to withdrew her name from possible nomination when it was reported that she had commented that her disagreement with Senator Morris “went way back to the time when he was kicked in the head by a horse”

The filibuster used to get good media attention, too. Photographers, in particular, the antics of the long-range speakers,of course, and al of that was concurrent with a craze centered around “Dance Marathons, too, where couples stood upright in dance stance as long as they could do so. “Mr Deeds Goes to Washington”,with Jimmy Stewart, was a successful movie on the filibustering subject along with others dealing with Flag Pole sitters and other such remarkable endurance accomplishments of the era.

There is one factor which has never been made plain to me. There are no mentions of bathrooms.

A.L.M. April 5, 2003 [c563wds]

 

AVALANCHE!

One of the most feared dangers of living in mountainous areas is that of the avalanche.

Mankind can develop some devious way to make life fearful for others, but Mother Nature has the power to do so far beyond any of man's inventions. Think about it: very few people ever survive an avalanche.

I remember being fascinated by reading about one such avalanche in the Andes Mountains in Peru. Looking back and re-reading some items I wrote about it at that time – January 10, 1962. It happened at a place called Ranrahucra, Peru and is estimated to have killed about 3,500 people.

Observers witnessed the entire sequence, too, They were too far away ,of course to make any change in its course or intent.

The highest mountain in the area is called Hukscaran . It reaches 22,204 feet into thin air and is the home of ancient glaciers. A large corner of one such glacier came loose and fell dragging rock and rubble after it. The glacier struck the opposite side of the Valley after covering a distance of nine or ten miles. It slammed into the lifts. The shock wave which resulted from the fall made a noise heard seven minutes later at a point twelve miles away.

` The roiling mass of rock and ice ricocheted off the opposite side and rolled down the populated Valley. It moved at estimated speeds of around sixty to one hundred miles and hour and thinned down to a depth of about 60 feet. When it finally came to rest eleven miles down the Valley to a village called Yungay. Even after flowing ceased swelling blocks of melting ice caused deep pits of mud spitting air and water which made rescue work impossible

It all happed in a time span of just twelve minutes . When we first read about it in 1962 the total loss of live was estimated to be about 3500. Further study of the sliding mass that measured as much as 3,000 wide and one mile long has increased that figure which today stands are 18,000 fatalities.

It was called the “Debris Avalanche” and it proved to be but a prelude to an even more more severe one on the 3lst day of May in l970!

What humans can endure!

A.L.M. April 4, 2003 [c392wds

 
DIRT

I keep seeing pictures of the harsh desert sands in far-off Iraq and other nations of that part of our world.

I get contrasting information about the actual conditions of the soil itself. Is it potentially rich, as some claim it to be, or even modestly so? Can it be revived with regular rainfall? Can it be be reclaimed and made useful for ag-biz to some degree commensurate with the climate of the area?

It always seems comes up, too, that if one digs a hole in the Mid-east you get oil – not water.

C'mon now! This is not exactly a topic to be treated in a comic manner.

In the Sudan years ago someone drilled for oil far inland and many were disappointed when the when the wells produced water. But, wise heads among them prevailed and they used that water to start an oasis, then a village, then a town, and now a city. Can the same sort of thing be done in Iraq ? If so, why hasn't it been tried? More to the point of our being responsible for re-building the war-torn nation. It would be good to have Nature on our side.

I doubt if the Saddam Hussein regime has take any time from the building of more of than a score of Presidential Palaces to make detailed studies of the soil potentials throughout the entire country. That would be the initial step required for all those persons seriously considering means of helping the Iraqi people, and the sub cultures therein such as the Kurds to the north. A unified Iraq can work for their own well-being . They can provide a portion of the food and fiber supplies they need.

It should be the prime focus of all that needs to be done in Iraq now to eliminate all of the minatory complications which face anyone undertaking such a task. A great deal of planning and study such undertakings is now in order to meet the fast approaching deadline when needs become pressing. Iraq should not be re-constructed to be a nation dependent on benefactors forever. It can be a self-saving nation of hard-working people if given half a chance .

A.L.M. April 3, 2003 [c376wds]

 
DURNED GINNY HENS!

I was home from school one week-end and it so happened that I was working in the barn on a Saturday morning with one of the older farm hands.

We heard a sudden screaming, cackling and clucking, crowing commotion from the chicken house area. We heard it, as did everyone within several hundred yards or so..

“We're a-gitten company!” my co-worker announced. “Them damned Ginny hens is a cacklin' like crazy! Strangers is a-gittin' too close!”

I stepped to the barn door and, sure enough, a car I did not recognize pulled up in front of the house. I did not know either of them.

“Ha!” laughed Bill when I picked up my pitch fork up to rejoin him at our task,: “Strangers, I'll bet, too. Right?”

I had to agree I did not recognize either of the two newcomers and Bill, looking pleased and content, relied.”Them ginny hens! You can't fool them ginny hens! Smart as he come! Regular feathered burglar alarms, that's what they are!”And. he said it all with authority and a tone of admiration and pleasure in his rough voice.

Most people would around there would have agreed with him about the guinea hens, too. They were hangovers from previous years. We had about twenty of them as a rule. They were easily distinguished from chickens because they were all bald headed, no feathers on their heads and they were uniformly gray in color with white spots all over.. They had come, I understand from Guinea in North Africa (numida meleagris) probably as a part of food supplies on slave ships. They ranged peacefully with chickens. Most of ours roosted at night in the chicken houses. Six of them in one house and the rest in a larger house where they took over one corner and perched apart in their own little guinea world.

It may seem odd to people today but we respected the presence of guinea fowl among the chickens in those days. They were, as Bill had said, “watchdogs.” It was generally agreed that when you heard guinea hens putting up a loud clattering there were strangers in the area. If during the daylight house, that gave women in the back of the house, a moment of to tidy up the premises or personal appearance, pat their hair into place, possibly remove her apron to greet the newcomers at the back door. Relatives and regular visitors did not get more than peep or two from the vigilant birds.. Only strangers, newcomer, wanderers, sales persons and, most important of all, chicken thieves

I don't pretend to know how they seem to have been gifted with a special ability which enabled hem to detect strange sounds. A different car, the voice of a stranger, the noise of any unusual movements in the area.... seemed to alert the sensitive inner mechanism which resulted in a din of loud cackling, clattering and even scream-like warnings.

Guinea fowl were nice to have on a place and very little effort take care of them. The eggs were edible, though sometimes scoffed at by oldsters. You seldom found any guinea hen eggs in the nests with the chicken eggs, because they took care to perpetuate their species by laying their eggs in secret spots all over the farm where they could hatch out and a brood and be sure to continue residence at the same farm. Yes, they could be eaten along with chickens, but they were much more valued as a living alarm system and numerous stories are told and re-told about how a certain guinea hen can be said to have saved the homestead from ruin at least once or twice, kept thieves at bay - and we did have chicken and turkey rustlers in those days. Turning a sudden light was all it took to send a shadowy human figure running across the fields.

If you had guinea hens on guard, and still lost chickens, you could be pretty sure it was an inside job.

A.L.M. APRIL 1, 2003 [c678 wds]

 
OUR NATION'S FUTURE

We are constantly being offered a wide variety of opinion in these early years of the 2lst Century. Just as we commonly do with the start of each New Year, we, on a somewhat larger scale, are doing the same thing – comparing the New Century to those which have gone before until it is old enough to acquire an identity of its own.

All is not peaceful and given to quietness, of course. Earth is seldom, if ever, the placid place some persons like to pretend it has been. Seldom, if ever, has there ever been a time of total absence of war among men. I see no reason why we need think our 2lst Century is going to be any different in that regard. The competitive nature of Man is an intrinsic part of his being and most often expressed in a need for superiority over other even if it takes some violent forms.

So it should not be a surprise to find we are in these early years of the New Century at war in several ways... a terrorist entanglement with unknown, unseen enemies as well as a war to rid Iraq of a dictator who has ruthlessly scorned all attempt to control his avarice
.
This particular Iraq war is taking place in an the area where our civilization first began to take on real meaning and much of it is historically connected to our religious sensibilities as well, in some strange ways. Some of these deep-seated animosities are apparent in surface factors; the deep hatred and distrust men hold for each other are apparent in the Mid-east, the Orient and in Ireland and other areas. From what we see and hear, we have become deeply concerned, but there are deeper troubles which we are, eventually, going to have to face up to intelligently and without social, religious and political rancor.

Carl Sagan, in his introduction to Stephen Harkins’ latest book made reference to a future about the place of..”God... or about the lack of God”.in our existence. Our racial, social,and political conventions and accomplishments are not enough; the use of religious, economic, social and political factors for gain in economic ,social and political sections of our lives, is, I think, wrong. And yet it is at the root of so many of the problems we have mentioned or to which we have alluded. Religion is ,too often, used as an excuse or alibi to justify actions which had little or nothing to do with religious concept of those concerned.

I have an insistent and growing feeling that we have, as a nation, surrounded ourselves with walls of religious barriers and even with our church church, if you can call the strange amalgam of ideas which range from sane and workable to weird and wild, by that term. In recent weeks, I have noted an indication of a disturbing complication in our religious and racial problems. A leading liberal newspaper in this country, last month allowed a columnist writing for their internationally respected pages a short item which seemed ,to me, to be a trial balloon to see what readers might think if someone suggested that Colin Powell had best be removed from his office as Secretary of State. The reason suggested was that, since we are now at war with Iraq, Powell’s diplomatic efforts were all ,obviously, wrong and that he should be removed from office. It is but one tiny mental step from that premise to say that Foreign Affairs advice to the President was also flawed and that Condollezza Rice should also be sacked. This form of party politics from the party which has at least two aspirants running as their candidate for President. The act seems be a rather a pitiful ploy designed to undercut blacks both specifically and generally. One thing America does not need right now is racial discrimination used politically by any party!

Our understanding of what the average Muslim believes is dismal. We insist they do not understand us. Both are correct, but nether of us is seriously attempting to overcome such an obvious lack of communication.

As we take stock of our present state just three years into the new century, it would appear that our most basic problem is going to be in the religious area.. The Arabic world has already declared a ”jehad” against all Christians, but how effective such world-wide war can be is questioned even by those who urge it.

Am I alone in thinking this way? I don’t think so, and the silence concerning the subject is scary.

A.L.M. March 31, 2003 [c775wds]

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