Saturday, January 21, 2006
HOT TIMES I have always been an admirer of volunteer firemen. There has always been a special a about them. They were brave men, just as workers in various fields of employment have proved to be - such as the miners of West Virginia's coal fields and other areas where we dig our riches from the Earth. They are more “caring”, one might put it without slighting anyone else. They started earlier, they had close family ties, they were concerned about household treasures of all kinds – both tangible and unseen – and what they did convinced them they actually touched people; rally made difference. Perhaps part of my feeling stems from the fact that the first fire company I remember was something a bit less than what a good fire department might have been. We looked at it in a sort of “Keystone Kops” way and did the best we could with what we had at hand. The Fire House was an old garage corner of the Court House and the Fire Chief and his wife had rooms above so they were close to our only vehicle - a used unit from a nearby city's used fire trucks lot. When a fire call came in one of them grabbed the telephone to determine the exact location of the blaze. The Chief would mount the high seat of the red truck; kick the motor to life and week a small latch on the dashboard which triggered his own, personal siren which screamed a high-pitched as if attempt to outdo the one roaring from Court House roof. Our town was odd one that it was strung out for five miles along a big river on shelve it left behind as it carved into stone cliffs on the other side. The town was divided into “East End”, “Central”and “West End” and that second siren was of important for those who lived in the central part of town. We could ell pretty much where a fire was by listening. If the siren continued steadily it meant the Chief and had turned up the steep hill in front of the Court House and hate was staying in the midtown section. I remember one ho day,however,when it didn't work so well. We boy knew for fact , that the fire had to be in East End. He would pass in a moment or so. Suddenly, the siren scream sickened and died away – completely. That could only mean he had stopped in mid-town “Central” which rapidly became a tragic thing. We looked for smoke but saw none as we ran toward the imagined fire. When arrived, there was the Fire engine and the Fire Chief was standing beside it under the shady canopy of the Sinclair Service Station. He was carefully topping-off the tank, so he could get along on to that fire in East End. Took good care of that truck, Chief did. Good thing he noticed the gas dial said: “Low”,or he may not have made it to the fire in East End. A.L.M. January 21, 2006 [c511wds]
Friday, January 20, 2006
WHEN LEADERS PUSH The somewhat confusing words of Mayor Negan recently which set forth his idea of what a restored city of New Orleans might be were disturbing. Many others have plans which are quite different from his overly opportunistic, fix-it plans. Had anyone else used the tired term “chocolate city” they would have been media vilified no-end and to purposely repeat it called for intense mental mismanagement. Such cute terms so often have within them divergent ideas which are not at all in keeping with many of the people one may cause doubt and lack of confidence in any such plans. The texture of such announcements must be acceptable to a majority support. Certainly any ideas which seem to have a set purposes of making things better for any one group – racial, political, religiously, social, economy or any such division is bad. Leaders in our time cannot truly lead in our multi-faceted society by favoring one group over another. We must believe in and unification concepts rather than divisions and special advantages for any section of our society. The mayor's declared intention sounded as if it might be an invitation for any and all blacks to make New Orleans their home so they could re-build it to their liking. He also ad-libbed a reference to God and punishment for which he later apologized but he did not with include his invitation. Even it really “unintentional” it was, no doubt effective for intensely religious segments of blacks in various sections of the country. Such a plan would, no doubt, be favored vocally by such stalwarts as the reverend Sharpton-Jackson-et al - standing, at the ready, for such a project. The Old New Orleans must have been a real patchwork quilt concerning ownership. I dare say much of the shoddy repair and maintenance work which never seemed to get finished in the city stemmed from elsewhere-ownership and lack of interest or concern. Judging by the financial plight of the city today, it will be many years before it can get on its own and completely out from under from under federal, state and other assistance programs. Ownership will probably be corporate in nature rather than parceled out to small holders. Certainly “leaders” will be needed to - again-and-again - point out the best of perplexing pathways to prosperity for all. A.L.M . January 20, 2006 [c410wds]
Thursday, January 19, 2006
ON ROMANY TRAIL Do you remember when gypsies roamed our back roads each Spring and Fall? You would not have to go back too many years o be able to recall those creaking, overloaded wagons trekking along the side of our roads. Those strange, puzzling and interesting people lost a lot of their charm over us when they were forced by economic pressures of the times -"Depression Years" - they have been called, to change their horse drawn and hand-powered carts and wagons for motorized just short junkyard permanence. I recall anticipating their arrival each Spring and Fall. They followed the greening grasses northward in the Spring they drifted south like colorful leaves fallen to enjoy warmer climes in eastern Carolinas. They never seemed to hurry at any time and accepted whatever type of weather that came our way. They seem ready to accept and make the most of whatever weather came our way. With the worst kind of weather many deer and and a few hares disappeared. We spoke of such game as being "ours" and our parents and others openly accused the gypsy intruders as common thieves. Anything that happened to missed, misplaced, bartered off, or sold during the summer months ,automatically, deemed to have been stolen by "those gypsy people. I remember hose times and wonder who was right and who might have been right and who could have been wrong. It was their. They were stand-offish, stubborn, light fingered, too. I still remember how happy some of those gypsy folks could seem to be. And happiness is something that's hard to fake. You are one or the other - happy or unhappy. A.L.M. January 19, 2006 [c288wds]
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
OMITTED Live and learn. I chanced to read one of those “Today in History listings just this morning and I was surprised to find that on this date in 1943, Americans were forbidden to have any sliced bread in the house. Those of us under “duration plus six months”contract with any of the military services missed a great many things happening “back home”. It was many years after the war before I actually saw and held a ration book in my hands. We were, now that I look back at it all, we members of the armed forces were the ones who were being ‘deprived” - not the people at home. The U.S.O. Was created to provide some of those little things we were missing which made life at home so much easier. Other groups worked with the same thing in mind; to provide “needed” items for G.I’.s living away from home minus the important little things so important to fulsome living. I assume the prohibition on sliced bread was considered to be an economic measure. If such a ban on sliced bread was set up to save money doubt if it could have been worthwhile. Or,it could have been that someone saw the term as a symbol of wastefulness. “Best thing since sliced bread!” is still used to say something is new and good to have. At the time, I did wish for white bread, I remember. We lived on brown bread ,baked and moved about like a stack of bricks. No paper wrappers. The rough texture of the bread itself had a bran husk barrier which opposed the cutting process of any average knife blade. It was best eaten in chunks torn from the main loaf by finger power. Some good-toothed individuals could bite into it like sunlight consuming an iceberg. I have asked around today and, thus far, I have not found one person who remembers the day when sliced bread was banned. Many think I'm silly to even ask. Most seem to think bread has always been sold sliced. Few realize that bread used to be marketed by the chunk or a family-styled twin-chunk or double loaf. I wonder what measures we have on the books right now as “security measures” which may strike people in the future as being on the silly side? A.L.M. January 19, 2006 [c411wds]
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
NEXT? We seem to have jumped ahead of ourselves a bit. Maybe you have noticed it, too. Regardless of whose picture appears on the screen, someone within sight of the screen will, say "...another one running President!" It doesn't seem to matter who the individual might be, or what they do for a living. Everyone is eligible. Last night a former contender stood forth and did a "speech" concerning comments concerning every possible negative quality he could think of about the life, work and supposed achievements of our President George. Al read the lists of accusations well enough - precise and without a shadow of double about any one of them. He went through all of it acting as if it just happened to be his turn to say disparaging things about our Head of State. He stressed the figure of "two thousand five hundred American youths dead". Most people in the room thought Al Gore was "running for president again." Hillary Rodham Clinton kept her name in the list by making a statement about George Bush running the nation as if it were a "plantation" leaving it wide open for people what that comparison may entail. Some killjoy said this morning she was quoting a line from a Republican used in the Ford campaign against Democrats. The mayor of New Orleans made a MLK speech in which he invited all blacks to come down to recreate what he called " the nation's largest and only Chocolate City." He, too, is running for President. Be careful about what you say in public. Mention something you think should be changed and you will be spotted right away - "running for President." Trent Lott is running for a seat in the Senate but that be a cover of some sort. Here in Virginia our own governor has been showing increased interest in New Hampshire and Vermont. There's no wonder about that. He is running for a stint in the Oval Office. A.L.M. January 17, 2006 [c398wds]
Monday, January 16, 2006
LETTER CARES Among the many things I plan to get finished this afternoon is the writing of a long, loose, chatty letter to a friend of mine in England. He will, I know, share my letter with his family, just as I do with his letters coming this way. How can I write about some of the strange things which have been taking place on this side of the Atlantic briny? I am not too proud of some of them. The 'hearings” in Washington, D.C. for instance: I know the people have seen films clips of the political events on TV and I'm sure they have seen a few pictures in their fine daily newspaper and, perhaps, even here on the Internet. I know they must wonder, at times, exactly what the world is going on with such extended and mindless meanderings. I think most of us gave upon watching TV version. It has been a case of “nothing in = nothing out” with many TV cameras in recent weeks. One mighty think that nationally known Senators - called “statesmen” after they are dead - would refrain from vilifying a presidential nominee for a specific office with such low-down, cheap, tawdry tactics. The nominees are usually well-qualified for placement in the office being recommend. If we continue this shameful system of investigation of the entire life of nominees we will, some day soon, find our selves without candidates.. Who wants to be so treated ? I have an idea that many people think all of our senators are of this low style. Far from it. I have no quarrel;with those from my state of Virginia, and other states as well, states as well. I should think that the good people of the New England area might be led to do something to curb on in their very midst who constantly seeks to condemn every nominee by narrow party methods. All of New England gets the blame for such gross conduct and the real, trouble makers go Scot-free. It is a condition which is now best solved at the ballot box. On the whole, however, I feel good about the state of union. I can speak forth strongly on our behalf even if I cannot see any good coming to us through disquieting actions as those urged upon us by Ted Kennedy and the likes thereof. A.L.M. January 16, 2006 [c405wds]
Sunday, January 15, 2006
THE BROTHERS BEE There were two boys in the Bee family in Charleston, South Carolina. The oldest had been named Hamilton when he was born July 22, 1822. Then in 1824 his brother Hamilton Elliott, was born as a February person - February 8th. The Bee brothers as they were known, were very much alike in some ways yet each had a distinct personality all is own - strong, stern, and capable. It would be unusual if you know anything much of either of them. The younger one, Bernard, had a claim to fame because he said something about a co-worker of his and most bios simply say: "brother of Barnard". Barnard graduated from West Point in 1845 and went off to the Mexican War with the 10th Infantry. In 1861 he resigned his commission to join the Confederate 1st South Carolina as a Lt. Col. in artillery. In June of the same year he became a Brig. Gen. and commanded 3rd Army of the Shenandoah st First Man n as. He was a one of the dead of that battle July 22, 1861, ending his short career. Hamilton Bee's military career was longer. He drew on his Mexican War experiences in the Federal army to become a Brig.Gen. in the Confederate forces. He was stationed at Brownsville, Texas where his duties were largely administrative. He did command a cavalry brigade in Red River Campaign and other actions. When the Civil War ended Hamilton Bee did what so many defeated Confederate officers seemed to think was the smart thing to do; he moved to Mexico to live. That did not last very long. He came back to Texas and a busy life in local politics -even then called "public service." That was Barnard Bee's brother - Ham. It was Barnard Bee who, overlooking the battle a First Manassas, gave a friend and fellow soldier a new an abiding name by saying" "And there stood Jackson like a stone wall!" A.L.M . January 15, 2006 [c341wds]
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