Wright Writes

Last Update: 05/16/2011

Introduction Christmas Plate Christmas 2009 American History Terrorist in Tadmor This is who I am

Thank you for being a friend Remember Frank Robinson Valentines Day 2010 Lucky the Horse Currys Store

Texas Independence Day 2010 Southern Hospitality Nanotechnology Health Care Downtown Houston and the Rice Hotel

Spider Webs Duty Honor Country Muehlebach Beer Glen Rose 2010 Separation of Church and State White One

Sherron Benton Simmons Wright General Store Sylva North Carolina HPD Reunion 2010 Question and Answer

Front Porch 209 Main MyFace Sgt Esterhaus Times are Changin' Items for Sale CSS Hunley 17th President

Baby Jesus stolen from the Courthouse Lawn Camp Douglas POW Camp Another Trip to M.D. Anderson

Jerry Wright Family	Tour of Kennard, Texas	Vickers House
The Sawmill	Old Mount Olive	Kennard Auto Service

WRIGHT WRITES – MAY 19, 2011

I am not one who watches a lot of TV or who is consumed by information in the world of news. But even in a fifteen minute setting I am amazed at the direction our country is going as well as the philosophies and statements of the politicians. I am constantly astounded at the trivial nature of some of the comments coming out of two members of the Executive Branch of our nation’s government. Many times the quotes just don’t reflect the dignity of a true statesman.

This week I heard our president make a statement that was almost childish. The President was in El Paso, Texas last week and the subject was the matter of securing our borders. He was telling his constituents of all the progress that had been made concerning the illegal crossing of our border. Whether they believe that or not, I am not sure.

The first and most simple question would be, “How are we doing so far?” Of course, I believe that we know the answer to that question already. Then he continued by saying that he didn’t believe some people would ever be satisfied with the efforts he proposed. He said, I assume in a joking manner, “What do they want us to do next? Build a moat – fill it with alligators?” Well, for me, the answer to that question might be, “If that works any better than the fences, monitoring efforts and the increase of border guards, let’s do it!” Then to build the moat, we could snatch up every illegal that comes to the United States looking for a job, make him a citizen on the spot, pay him minimum wage, hand him a W-2 and a shovel and say, “Start digging.”

Is illegal immigration a political issue, a moral issue or what? I personally don’t understand why the border between the United States and Mexico can’t be controlled. It seems that the politicians for the last few decades (if the truth was known) don’t really want the borders to be closed. I have heard it said that some of the politicians are looking for more votes. Why on earth would they look for votes cast by Mexican citizens? Now I realize that I may be asking more questions than answering them. But sometimes one does have to ask, “Why?” It seems to me that most of the people I talk to would like to see our borders closed. Now, I am not saying dismantle the Statue of Liberty and no longer welcome the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” I am not saying that we should absolutely close our borders.

But after all, we do have laws in place which allow people to become citizens, acquire works visas and be in the United States legally.

Now here is an interesting story that offers another slant to this whole issue. One day I was talking to the owner of a company which has several employees. He told me that he paid undocumented laborers one dollar more per hour than the locals. The reason he gave was, “The Mexicans put in a full day’s work” while the local employees had trouble showing up on Mondays. That meant if he paid them at noon on Friday, he would not see them again until Tuesday morning. So, you see, evidently we need people who are willing to work for lower wages to come to this country and fill in for the locals who are too lazy or who would rather collect welfare or whatever. So, in closing, please, Mr. President, be truthful with us. Don’t give us silly little anecdotes or we may just hold you to it and start having alligators shipped in from South Louisiana.

Wright Writes Isaac Watts May 12, 2011

Just in the last two hours we have returned from a music festival in Glen Rose, Texas. The festival was held in a campground where we stayed in tents. Having been there since Thursday and doing nothing but visiting, eating and staying up all hours of the night playing music, we returned to a world that could have seriously changed. We do not see television - we live in a tent. We do not listen to the radio – who would want to with all the music being played at the festival?

It appears the price of gas hasn’t changed much but other than that we have heard no news. For all we know bin Laden’s body may have washed up off of the coast of Florida or they may have run out of ink to print more money at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.

While we were at the music festival we did a lot of Sacred Harp singing. The Sacred Harp style uses the shaped note system. This singing method uses four shapes representing the syllables fa, so, la and mi.

The singers sit in a hollow square formation and sing the four parts. It is very interesting music and is very powerful.

The lyrics of many of the songs were written down as poems by Isaac Watts and many other theologians.

Isaac Watts was born in 1674 and was a prolific and popular English hymn-writer and theologian. He is credited with some 750 hymns. Watts led the way in the movement to include original songs of Christian experience in worship; that is, new poetry. The older tradition limited itself to the poetry of the Bible, notably the Psalms.

Then in the eighteen and nineteen hundreds, tunesmiths began to compose tunes and apply the inspirational and doctrinal words of Watts and others.

During one of the singings this weekend one person told us a story of Isaac Watts. The event happened in the 1700s during the time of our war of independence from Great Britain. At the battle of Galloping Hill Bridge the Colonists had only one cannon. James Caldwell, a chaplain in the Continental Army learned that the artillery was running low on wadding. Caldwell brought up a load of hymn books published by English clergyman Isaac Watts. He then handed the books out to the artillerymen with instructions “Give ‘em Watts, boys!”

If you think you would like to know more about singing in the Sacred Harp tradition you can get in touch with me. My name is Jerry Wright and I am in the phonebook. The words of Isaac Watts are still ministering to God’s people.

JUDGE LAWRENCE

In 1984 I went to work for Sheriff Morris Minter as a deputy sheriff. Back then we only had about four or five deputies and we all had to do various duties in and around the Courthouse as well as provide law enforcement for Houston County.

One day Sheriff Minter asked me to go over to the District Court and be the Bailiff for the day. At that time I had already been in law enforcement for twelve years and being a Bailiff was something new for me. I walked into courtroom as the Third Judicial District was in session with the Honorable R.W. Lawrence presiding.

I recently learned that Judge Lawrence had passed away on April 15, 2011. He was a fine gentleman and a friend.

The 3^rd Judicial District covers Henderson, Anderson and Houston counties and indicated by the name, it was the third district court created in the State of Texas. From 1852 to 1857, “The Old Roman” John H. Reagan presided over the court. Judge Lawrence was the perfect man to sit on that bench and he often mentioned Reagan. Elected to the 3^rd Judicial District bench, Judge Lawrence took office in January of 1965, ran unopposed seven times and retired in 1995 after 31 years of service.

Felix Thompson was Judge Lawrence’s court reporter. In the early days Glen Welch was the District Clerk and later Linda Hunt was elected to that office. Some of the attorneys back then were J.B. Sallas, Joe Griffith, Bill Pemberton, Gus Merriwether, R.C. Von Doenhoff, John Bobbitt, Eugene M. McElyea, Nat Patton and a few more that slip my memory right now. Judge Lawrence, Felix and I heard many stories in that courtroom on the second floor.

Many times when we knew one of the attorneys was digging a hole from which he could not escape, the three of us would trade glances and try our best to act like nothing was going on. I was present when Judge Lawrence asked Eugene M. McElyea what the M. stood for. This was the subject of one of my previous columns.

When greeting a new jury panel he always reminded them that sitting on a jury was the second most important thing a citizen of the United States could do. He believed the most important duty was to be a member of the military during war time. He would also remind the panel, “They didn’t pick a jury just 90 miles off of the coast of Florida today.” On many occasions while presiding over an adoption, he would ask the name of the child. He would quote scripture and comment on the importance of a good name.

Judge Lawrence told me many personal stories. He was a Lieutenant on the USS Wilson DD 408 in WWII. During one enemy raid his ship was struck by a kamikaze plane. Once American forces shot down some Japanese planes and three surviving pilots were in the water. The ship pulled alongside the three men in the water. One by one they were offered life preservers to be pulled to safety. The first one refused the ring. The Captain of the ship ordered him shot. The second one also refused. The third pilot took the ring and was pulled on board. They immediately took him to sick bay, gave him clean clothes and a good Navy meal. For the remainder of the tour Judge Lawrence said, “The little fellow had run of the ship.”

Judge Lawrence once told me that one of his favorite verses in the Bible was found in the book of Micah, “And what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”

Judge Lawrence entered what is now the East Texas Baptist University at age 16. After the war he was married and entered Baylor University School of Law. I also knew Rev. Noble S. Lawrence, Judge R.W. Lawrence’s brother. While pastoring a church in Beaumont, Texas, Rev. Lawrence led a relative of mine to the Lord and presented him with a ring that he wore until the day he died.

Judge Lawrence wrote the following note to me after I returned from serving in the U.S. Navy during Operation Desert Storm. Dear Jerry, When I returned home at the end of World War II, my ship arrived in San Diego New Year’s Eve 1945. When we entered the ship channel there was a giant billboard visible to all incoming ships with the following greeting in boxcar letters: “WELCOME HOME. WELL DONE.” I have just returned from attending the fifth reunion of the wartime crew of the USS Wilson DD 408 in Tampa, Florida. It was a memorable occasion I shall long remember. I took great pride in telling my shipmates of your invaluable contribution to Operation Desert Storm. I say to you with all the sincerity at my command: “WELCOME HOME. WELL DONE.” With kind personal regards, I am Yours very truly, R.W. Lawrence District Judge.

Judge Lawrence, “Fair winds and following seas my dear friend.”

Margaret Wright wrote the article for this week. It was written to be included in a book of traditional tunes designed for the mountain dulcimer. Players all over the country will order this book and play this tune. She wanted them to know more about how she came to know the music and the person through whom it came.

Steve Hartz published a book in 2001 entitled By the Muddy Angelina. This book and accompanying CD gives a pictorial, historical and musical account of the area of East Texas near Nacogdoches, which happens to be the oldest town in Texas. From this book and CD, I first learned the Nacogdoches Waltz. At that time I proudly tabbed it for dulcimer and included it in Twelve Tune Songbook Number Four. I was proud because according to Stafford Harris, the fiddler from whom Steve had collected the song, this waltz was almost lost forever and I was helping to preserve it. Stafford figured that the song probably dated back to the late 1800’s which is when his grandfather more than likely learned it. He also said that he never heard anyone other than his grandfather, John Fryman, play the song. Shortly after I put that tab “out there” I had an opportunity to play it on the dulcimer for Stafford Harris himself. When I finished, he smiled and said, “That’s real nice. It’s not exactly like my Grandfather played it, though.” I was stunned and remained so for 9 years. I stopped playing the tune and felt embarrassed about the whole thing. Then in September of 2010, Ken Ryan invited us to play with him at a Cemetery Reunion at a little church out in the woods on the East side of Lufkin. Also playing there that day was Stafford Harris. After the “dinner on the grounds” I got up next to Mr. Harris and asked him if he would consider playing that Nacogdoches Waltz for me and helping me to get it right on my dulcimer. He gladly went for his fiddle as I dashed off to the car to get my dulcimer. He apologized that his bowing was not what it should be as he had suffered a small stroke a while back and he just had trouble with that right arm. Of course, it sounded wonderful to me. Anyway, we sat together, he played, I listened, and I jotted down tablature notes. I played a little. He corrected me. He played some more, I listened, I jotted down more notes. Then I had him check my playing of the entire piece. He said I had it right. I had him autograph my little piece of scratch paper; proof that I had been vindicated after all these years. It was a wonderful moment for me. Not just to have the song right, but to have spent precious moments with such a kind, gentle, fine, Christian gentleman. I will never forget it. I will also never forget that about 5 days later, Ken Ryan called to say that Stafford Harris had died. He suffered a heart attack while driving his car and had actually died behind the wheel as the car slowed and veered off the road. I thank God every day for His impeccable timing of events in my life, not the least of which was my last visit with Stafford Harris.

As I send out this book I am asking dulcimer players to help me continue to right the wrong. I ask them to look at the old version of the Nacogdoches Waltz (April 2002) and compare the two. Once they have the corrected version in hand, they should throw out the old one. The note differences are slight, but there is a definite rhythm difference seen in the first and second endings. The second endings always have that extra measure of three beats. It gives the tune that little “crooked” feeling, a term used to describe music which has extra beats or measures.

By the way, on that evening years ago when I found I had done the tune incorrectly, Stafford played it for me. When he finished I exclaimed, “Oh, it’s crooked.” He said, well, he wasn’t sure about that, but that was how his Grandfather played it. Ken Ryan later told me that Stafford recounted our conversation that night and he said to Ken, “She said my tune was crooked!” Ken then explained the term "crooked" and then Stafford realized that it was really okay.

Wright Writes April 21, 2011

The Union is Dissolved! Lately, I have been seeing a lot of newspaper articles and television news clips concerning the Civil War since April 12, 2011 was the 150th anniversary of the bombardment of Fort Sumter by the Confederacy.

I even heard Lonnie Hunt on KIVY asking Civil War related questions during their trivia time in the morning. I have been interested in the time period from 1861 to 1865 for several years. I have noticed that there has been extensive study on the war’s cause and related events, yet I would say most folks today know very little about that time period and the people who lived in it.

Fort Sumter is located in the harbor just outside Charleston, South Carolina. Actually cadets from The Citadel, a military college in Charleston, fired the first shots of the war on January 9, 1861. They were firing at the Union ship, the Star of the West. The steamer was attempting to resupply and reinforce the garrison commanded by U.S. Army Major Robert Anderson.

On December 26, 1860, six days after the state of South Carolina seceded from the Union; Major Anderson moved his troops from Fort Moultrie to the much stronger Fort Sumter. For years the industrialized North had been on a collision course with the South. For the most part the South was an agrarian society. Agriculture and farming were the main forms of Southern livelihood. Thomas Jefferson promoted an agrarian society for the United States.

Industries in the North made more money with less people compared to the South. The South needed manpower to work the fields and they found that manpower in the use of slaves. Virginia was the first English colony to acquire Africans in 1619. A ship arrived carrying goods for the colony which included 20 Africans. The practice had already been established by the Spanish colonies in the 1560s. Most slaves were black and were held by whites, although some Native Americans and free blacks also held slaves. There were even a few white slaves.

Slavery spread to the areas where there was rich soil which produced tobacco, cotton, sugar and coffee. The South looked on the fort as a symbol of triumph but to the North is was a symbol of resentment and determination. Rick Hatcher, historian of Fort Sumter National Monument, says, “In the eyes of the North, Charleston and Fort Sumter were where secession, rebellion and treason began.”

In many ways the war is still with us. Flags have become a hot issue. Just recently a group of local citizens in Palestine contacted the Mayor and City Council saying that the flag being flown was offensive to them. About 1,000 men from Anderson County joined the Confederacy and over a third of these men died in the war. Some say the South had the right to secede from the Union and form their own government. I couldn’t find anything that says we had the “right” to secede. Nowhere in the Constitution is there any mention of the union of the states being permanent. This was not an oversight by any means.

Indeed, when New York, Rhode Island, and Virginia ratified the Constitution, they specifically stated that they reserved the right to resume the governmental powers granted to the United States. Their claim to the right of secession was understood and agreed to by the other ratifiers, including George Washington, who presided over the Constitutional Convention and was also a delegate from Virginia. I guess if we would had won the War Between the States, either the north would have been under control of the south or the north and south would just become two separate countries. The people in the north and folks in the south had two separate ways of thinking and one wanted to control the other or not be controlled by the other. That is the way war starts. Today I was talking to a very liberal friend of mine who said this country is split in half in regard to the way people think.

Unlike the way it was in 1861, we have nowhere to separate ourselves. Liberals and conservatives live next door to each other all over this country. I am a Christian – she isn’t. In fact, some of her friends despise or even hate Christians. I don’t like women marrying women – she has female friends who are married. I am against abortion – she doesn’t have a problem with it. Gun control, global warming, the oil spill in the Gulf, President G.W. Bush, multiculturalism, tax and spend and victims of the system are just a few of the topics on which we stand totally opposite. Dissolve the Union? In a way, between my friend and I, the Union is already dissolved. So who is this so-called friend? Well, she is a musician and we know her because we play music. In certain segments of the music world that Margaret and I know most of the people are liberals. When I am around them I force myself to not read the stickers on their guitar cases or their bumpers. By the way, they drive Subaru’s and I drive a Dodge diesel.

They sing gospel music but only because they like the song and not because they believe the words like Margaret and I. So in 1861 the newspapers announced that the Union was dissolved. I don’t believe that we are any more united today.

The Republic of Texas

The General decided that his army needed a rest. After all, the General’s men had just concluded a 13 day battle during the previous month. The battle had cost the General from 400 to 600 of his battle hardened troops. He needed a place to lick his wounds before going into the next battle so he positioned his army on less than three square miles of ground that was completely surrounded by the San Jacinto River and the flooded Buffalo and Vince Bayou’s marshes. The General posted troops near the river and his last artillery in the center. He had a five foot high barricade constructed to protect his infantry. His cavalry was on his left flank. The General received about 500 additional troops commanded by another General. Preparations were being made for one final push the next day.

The opposing General decided on a surprise attack of his own with his 900 men. At about 4:30 p.m. on April 21, a scout reported that Vince’s Bridge had been burned. This action prevented the retreat for both armies. The opposing general led his men from a tree line and the order to advance was given. A fifer began playing “Will you come to the bower.” Two small cannons known as the “Twin Sisters” moved forward. Yes, it was the Battle of San Jacinto. The resting general was Santa Anna and the opposing army was made up of the Texans led by General Sam Houston. The Texans charged over open ground.

Most of General Santa Anna’s men were at rest during their afternoon siesta and their leader had failed to post sentries. The Texans moved quickly and silently that afternoon. Within a matter a yards away from the Mexican camp, the Texans charged and yells of “Remember the Alamo” and “Remember Goliad” could be heard. It was a complete surprise. The Texas casualties came in the first minutes of the battle. Santa Anna’s men were trained to fight in ranks and his army was soon confused, demoralized and routed. Many fled to the water and downed. I have heard that the Texas officers had to turn their swords backwards and beat their men in order to stop the killing.

The battle lasted approximately 18 minutes but the slaughter of Mexican soldiers continued for another hour. The Texas army killed about 700 Mexican soldiers and wounded 208. It is reported that 730 prisoners were taken. The Texas army lost 9 of their men and 30 were wounded. One of the wounded was General Sam Houston himself. On that day in 1836 Texas won her independence.

But it all started on March 2, 1836 when the Convention adopted the Texas Declaration of Independence at Washington-on-the-Brazos.

Free Water

Since you are reading this, I know you are aware of all the issues here at home and all over the world. I am not necessarily worried about it all since I realize that it is just the nature of our world. But from time to time I will hear or read a story that stirs me to the point where I need to discuss the issue with family and friends.

I was watching Fox News a few days ago when I noticed the report about a group of demonstrators. The messages on their signs were clear; they wanted the government to provide free water and electrical service for all. Well why don’t we just throw in sanitation while we are at it.

There are people in this country who want free health care, free schools, free lunches, free transportation and now free utilities.

You know, I am all for helping people but it is getting out of hand here in the land of the free. I am not going to go much further with this but I am getting a little weary of folks wanting food when actually they may need to order a Total Gym from Chuck Norris and get on the latest version of Weight Watchers. Or maybe they could just go to work.

I realize that I am probably “preaching to the choir” but at some point we may have to get our own selves organized and say, “Enough is enough.” Actually the Tea Party is working on issues like that but according to Senator Harry Reid, the Tea Party is dead. I don’t think so Harry.

Please don’t think that the articles I write are just sounding boards for my frustrations. I hope they are entertaining, informative, interesting and revealing. Speaking of revealing, I have really been studying the book of Nehemiah. This would be a good book for anyone to study and I think every politician should read it. The story is about the man, Nehemiah, organizing citizens to rebuild the wall around their city. Each man or family was responsible for a portion of the wall, usually the section nearest to their home. I am afraid that in many of our cities today, the walls would be unfinished in a number of sections since some of the inhabitants would be waiting for the government to come and build their part of the wall for them. Please Lord, send us a Nehemiah

Wright Writes April 7, 2011 The Koran

If by chance I ended up with a Koran and decided that I didn’t need it or want it, I’d put the dog-gone thing in the trash. Now here is where I differ from Pastor Terry Jones; I wouldn’t call CNN. To be honest, I don’t really know if Jones called CNN or just how the incident ended up in the news. But now that it has, folks like Lindsey Graham and Harry Reid want to punish Americans for burning the Koran. Reid and Graham must be nuts. I think that I’d be more upset if Jones had burned an old Sears and Roebuck catalogue. I realize that Jones was making some type of statement but that statement got some good people killed. Sometimes you just have to use good judgment.

If I happened to be in a situation where I was asked, “Does this dress make me look large?” I would know it was time to choose my words wisely. The actions of Jones have created an International incident. But back to Reid and Graham, they need to keep working on the matters at hand, like the national debt and the economy.

If we as a nation don’t get our heads screwed on straight we are really going to be heading for a hard fall. I don’t know how much our elected officials read the Bible but there are many stories in that book that tell how God gave his people a good spanking when they fell away from the truth and from His plan.

In regard to the folks over there in Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq, their murderous actions just prove to me that they are a highly volatile and unstable people. If I saw on Fox News that they were burning a Bible over there, I’d just mumble something about those idiots. I just can’t see myself leaving supper getting cold on the table to go looking for a candidate for decapitation. For Congress to make the burning of the Koran illegal, wouldn’t they have to make a Constitutional amendment? Oh Lord I pray that our Constitution remains intact. Lord please send us a Nehemiah.

Boudin

According to Wikipedia, boudin is mostly found in southern Louisiana. There are restaurants, cafes and road side stands devoted to the specialty of boudin. It is said that boudin is fast approaching the status of the stars of Cajun cuisine.

There is boudin blanc which is white sausage made of pork without the blood. It typically includes pork liver and heart meat. Cajun versions include the sausage which is made from pork and rice dressing and stuffed into pork casings. It is normally simmered or braised but can be slowly grilled. The boudin noir is dark and is made with pig blood. Crawfish boudin is very popular and is made of crawfish tails and rice. It is usually served with saltine crackers and hot sauce. That is the way I have it. A true Cajun will add a cold beer. Many restaurants serve boudin balls and of course there is also gator boudin.

We recently attended a music festival in Port Allen, Louisiana. On the way home we were travelling west on US 190. We noticed that the fuel gauge was telling us that we would soon need to look for a station that sold diesel. As we pulled into the entrance of the station, we felt a sick feeling in the pits of our stomach. The tank was pretty empty and it holds many gallons.

I spotted a junk shop next to the station and I left Margaret and Hollis fueling the truck while I looked at someone’s treasures. I met the owner and had a very nice visit with him. He was building a workbench in his shop. He had a pretty good looking bench coming along and yet I couldn’t see where he was getting his supplies. Cajuns have the ability to do that you know. Well he found out where I lived and where I was coming from. He asked me about “the family.” It was about time to leave and he wished me a safe trip.

I turned and walked away. I had gotten about twenty feet when he called out to me, “Before you leave Louisiana, get some boudin!”

Wright Writes March 31, 2011 Education

Last weekend I was having breakfast with a friend at a music festival. As the conversation progressed, we discussed the fact that he was thinking about changing jobs. Our friend is a school teacher in Texas. The conversation soon zeroed in on a subject that we have heard so many times. The teachers must teach to the test. You have all heard of “No Child Left Behind.” Well it seems that the consensus of many public school teachers is that the program would be more aptly called “No Child Pushed Ahead.” I know a lot of public and private school teachers.

I also know several parents who home school. Public school today is taking a turn that is alarming. I am saddened and confused about the stories I hear of the Teacher’s Unions. I am not impressed with the kind of attitude that I am hearing from those teachers. I say, “The heck with tenure.” If you are a sorry teacher, you really need go.

I also wonder why the U.S. Department of Education even exists. During the conversation my teacher friend blamed a lot of problems on the low socio-economic status of the children. I asked him about the meaning of that word. He replied that it meant “poor.” I came back with another question and he said that it was not simply that they were poor; it was actually “poor low life.” So for clarification it went from an economic issue to a lifestyle issue.

He went on to say that several years ago he would plan music programs for the evening PTO meetings. These programs often included up to 200 students. He stated that out of the two hundred, 198 would show up for the program. And, before the program started he would hear from the parents apologizing for their absence and reporting that one child was in the hospital and the other one’s grandfather had just passed away.

Last week he had prepared for a program that would include two hundred students. Only eight showed up. He blames it all on the parents. They come to the school and complain about their child not learning anything and then won’t be involved in their school activities or support their education at home in any way. Several years ago Margaret taught music at a public school in Houston. Every year she would take her dulcimer students to a children’s dulcimer festival in Tyler. They would leave from the school after the last class on Thursday and drive to Kennard where they would spend the night.

They would get up early the next morning and drive to Tyler. Then on Friday afternoon they would drive back to Houston arriving at the school around 7 o’clock at night. You guessed it. Every year there would be two or three children who were not met by their parents to be picked up. These were elementary school children.

After much waiting and calling we would eventually drive them home. I knew very well that their parents didn’t have a clue where they had been for two days and a night. Throwing more money in the direction of the school is not necessarily the answer for better education. Parental involvement would be a tremendous help. It is a case in which those of a lower socio-economic status really want someone else to raise their children. Our schools should push the smart kids to excel and just do the best they can for the remainder. As it is, it seems our education system is dumbing down, reaching for the lowest common denominator. I’ll end by saying that you English majors out there can tear this article apart – that’s alright – I am here to convey the message. In fact, I left school and joined the Navy. During my Navy career I earned my G.E.D. So much is wasted on the youth. I am now 63 and sometimes I think that I would like to go back and have another run at the twelfth grade.

February 24, 2011 Nehemiah

In the second act of The Devil’s Disciple by George Bernard Shaw, the character of Reverend Anthony Anderson was quoted as saying, “The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them; that’s the essence of inhumanity.”

The statement summarizes what Jesus taught in the parable of the Good Samaritan.

“And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, ‘Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’ He said unto him, ‘What is written in the law? How readest thou?’ And he answering said, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.’”

This story rebukes all those who fold their arms complacently, smile benignly, and say somewhat sarcastically, “Ask me if I care!”

I have been studying the book of Nehemiah and a commentary by Wiersbe. Nehemiah was the kind of person who cared. He cared about the traditions of the past and the needs of the present. He cared about the hopes for the future. He cared about his heritage, his ancestral city, and the glory of his God.

Nehemiah was a true patriot whose dreams for the future were motivated by the values of the past. He didn’t duplicate the past but built on it so that Israel would have a future. He used the past as a guide.

United States Ambassador to the United Nations Adlai Stevenson once said that patriotism was not “a short and frenzied outburst of emotion, but the tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime.” That certainly describes Nehemiah’s kind of patriotism.

Not only had Nehemiah prayed for this opportunity, but he had also planned for it and had his answer ready. During those four months of waiting, he had thought the matter through and knew exactly how he would approach the project. His reply to King Artaxerxes can be summarized in two requests. Nehemiah 2:5 says, “And I said unto the king, ‘If it please the king, and if thy servant have found favor in thy sight, that thou wouldest send me unto Judah, unto the city of my fathers' sepulchers, that I may build it.’”

King Artaxerxes gave Nehemiah what he asked, but it was the good hand of God that made the king so cooperative. When Jesus sent His disciples out to minister, He first gave them the authority they needed to do the job, and He promised to meet their every need. As we go forth to serve the Lord, we have behind us all authority in heaven and on earth, so we don’t have to be afraid. The important thing is that we go where He sends us and that we do the work He has called us to do.

We need to live for the glory of God. We should pray. We should learn about our past before we start waving our flag. We should love our neighbor as ourselves and then we should suggest to our government leaders that they read the book of Nehemiah.

Wright Writes January 27, 2011 Circle 4 Club

I have been telling a story for years about an incident that I witnessed as a child. I would guess that it happened around 1958 or 59. I lived in Loeb, Texas – right across the Pine Island Bayou from Beaumont. It was during the days of black and white TV. In those days many of my friends didn’t even own a set. Every afternoon, Monday through Friday, I watched a show for kids. It came on Channel 4 out of Port Arthur. The popular kid’s show was the “Circle 4 Club” with Cowboy John and his companion, Black Bart. Kids were invited to come on the show to form a gallery. Cowboy John would interview each child with intermittent showings of The Little Rascals, Popeye and The Three Stooges. Cowboy John would ask each boy and girl their name, how old they were and what they wanted to be when they grew up.

Here is the story as I remember it. I will have to leave out some of it in the interest of good judgment and the fact that political correctness sometimes stands in the way of plain and simple truth.

It was a special day for the Circle 4 Club; they had a special day about once a month. I was there on the couch ready for some cartoon action. Back in 1958 there was no Cartoon Network so cartoons could only be seen on Saturday mornings and on the Circle 4 Club. During the first few minutes of the show Cowboy John started his rounds through the gallery. He walked over to a little girl on the back row, stretched his microphone out to reach her and asked, “What is your name?” Well, she couldn’t answer. Every time she would look up, she would start to giggle. Now remember, at this time in television history, shows like the Circle 4 Club were live. A limited amount of time was allotted for each child so Cowboy John inquired, “What’s so funny?” “Leroy (deleted),” was the instant reply. Suddenly my TV screen went black. In about 20 seconds the Popeye cartoon came on. When Popeye was over the show returned to the gallery. Every child was sitting up, looking straight ahead. I could tell there had been some serious discussion in the studio while Popeye was showing. As if nothing happened, Cowboy John went to the next little boy and asked, “And what is your name?” All I remember was, “I’m Leroy.” I don’t remember much after that. Yes it was the most special of those special shows on the Circle 4 Club.

Every evening my dad watched the national news with Chet Huntley and David Brinkley. One was in New York and the other in Los Angeles. At the close every night, one would say, “Goodnight Chet,” the other, “Goodnight David.” But on this special evening, it was, “Goodnight Chet.” “Goodnight David and goodnight Leroy wherever you are.”

Now for years I have told that story but over the years I started to wonder if it really happened the way I thought. I especially wondered about the Huntley and Brinkley story. Then just a couple of days ago I was looking around the Internet and found a newspaper article written in a Port Arthur paper called “The News.” The article was written by Mike Tobias and dated, September 4, 2006. Here is a portion of that article.

“The show was live,” the duo recalled. “It was always running; everybody had their part and knew their job.“ In recalling the days of television in its infancy, the two also reminisced of unfortunate incidents where children were rowdy and restless, an unfortunate incident with a 14-foot guest anaconda that sent Cowboy John to the nearby St. Mary’s Hospital, and legendary run-in with a young audience member forever named “Leroy.”

“The funny thing about that,” Garner went on, “Is how many lawyers and doctors swear they were watching that day. But again, it was live and it did really happen.”

And the story didn’t end there. Apparently, according to the duo, the national network got a hold of the footage, and later that evening, when anchor David Brinkley said his daily ‘goodnight,’ to anchor Chet Huntley, he also added ‘Goodnight Leroy, wherever you are.”

“…You just had to ad lib your way out of it,” Garner finished.

The first thing I did was to call Margaret. She is very much aware that I can spin a tale but I wanted her to know that the story was true. I posted the incident on FaceBook and have had numerous replies saying they remember the occasion as well.

I rest my case. Next week I am going to write about the Screen Door Jesus.

SCREEN DOOR JESUS

I believe that it was in 1967 when I first heard of the screen door Jesus. I was visiting with a friend and her family one Sunday afternoon when someone mentioned what was happening in Port Neches. Well, it just wouldn’t do for us to sit there in the living room while miracles were occurring in Port Neches. So off we went, on an adventure to investigate the mysteries of the world, a world that was so exciting, full of wonder and adventure.

We were not sure of the exact location of our destination so when we drove into the city limits of Port Neches, we stopped and asked. We had to stop several times and each time we just knew we were getting closer and as we got closer the more excited we became.

We were on a street lined with small wooden, one story single family houses when we saw all the cars. They were parked on both sides of the street and in front of several houses. We were able to park about three houses down from the house that we thought we were looking for.

There was excitement and mystery in the air as we walked down the driveway to the back of the house. People were standing around everywhere. I don’t remember how many people were there but the back yard seemed full. It was even bigger than I had expected – this was truly an adventure.

I walked through the crowd searching for a position to view the back door. It was an unusual crowd. Many were just standing there in silence. There were adventure seekers like myself. Some were praying and some were in a highly excited state. I knew this was going to be big and well worth the drive down from neighboring Beaumont. Now bear in mind that my friend lived in Beaumont but I lived in Loeb. Loeb was a little sawmill town across the Pine Island Bayou over in Hardin County. Loeb was a whole different world itself, but that is another story.

I didn’t really know what to expect. I am somewhat like Thomas, one of the twelve. I have to see, touch and investigate before I get too excited about something. If the truth be known, I may have been there more to disprove rather than to be a witness to some type of divine event. Oh yes, I was a Christian and when I say that – I mean it. I was saved in Royal Ambassador Camp in an open air tabernacle in Newton, Texas at age twelve. But when I looked up, I stood in awe. A lot of questions flooded my mind. I thought, “I do see it but what is it?” I looked at my friend as if asking for some kind of confirmation.

What I was seeing was definitely the profile bust of a person. The colors were in shades of green, purple and various other colors. The image had long hair and what appeared to be facial hair in the form of a mustache and goatee. I could clearly see the right side of the face since the bust was looking to my right and his left. Let’s stop for a second. I couldn’t say that it was Jesus since I don’t really know what He looks like. But in regard to most artists’ conceptions that I have seen, the image on the back door to that house did look like Jesus.

Shortly thereafter I joined the Navy and lost track of the later events of the door. I only know what I saw on that Sunday afternoon. In fact, on that day in 1967 I had a camera with me. So I now have that photograph framed and hanging in my office. Anyone who looks at the picture can clearly see the profile of a man.

There are mysteries in this world and it is a privilege to be part of one. For me, there were many more to come.

DEVINE INTERVENTION

Just before we left the house on Friday we burned some household trash in our designated burn ring. The ring we use is a wheel from a very large tire that would be on something like a skidder. We spent all day in Kennard as Margaret’s three day mountain dulcimer workshop was on its final day. The workshop was held in our newest addition, the old sanctuary of the Mount Olive Church near Kennard. The building was the perfect place for Margaret’s class to be held.

Our son Hollis is the assistant to the Elementary coach at the Kennard School. He was the first to arrive at our house on Friday afternoon. What he found as he arrived at home was fire burning in the woods all around our house. Margaret was called and she in turn called the Kennard Ratcliff Volunteer Fire Department. I was walking across the vacant lot towards the old Mount Olive Church when the Fire Department grass truck drove by. Paul Morgan, driving, yelled at me and pointed. I didn’t understand what he said but I determined that I should follow. When the Fire Truck turned and went towards my house I became concerned.

I was still a distance away from our driveway when I noticed the smoke. Then I could see it, fire was everywhere in the woods. Paul and his wife went to work on the fire that was closest to them.

I located Margaret and asked her what happened but she didn’t know. I helped as much as I could to put out sections of the fire but I was certainly glad the Fire Department was there. I estimate that about an acre in total had already burned, with roads, creeks and a pond helping to contain the fire.

Then I walked up to our house and outbuildings. Everything was saved except for one old outhouse which back in 1982, when we first built our cabin, was a working structure. As I walked around I was somewhat in a state of shock and amazement. The fire had touched my house and every building on my property.

We later decided that when we burned the household trash and then left, one of the dogs dragged something out of the burn ring and out into the grass where it started a fire. Three to four feet around the burn ring had not been burned at all.

Some folks believe in luck. If I were to visit Las Vegas I may say that I hope Lady Luck is on my side but in this case I think differently. I don’t believe God set the fire – I think that blame goes to one of our dogs. So He didn’t set the fire but I sure think He stopped it. Sometimes I think of the Guardian Angels that follow me around and I just wonder what all they have to do to keep me going.

Lesson learned: make sure leaves and other fuels are away from your house and outbuildings. Then get some Guardian Angels to follow you around.

CHANGE IS IN THE AIR

President Obama calls for orderly and genuine transition to Democracy in Egypt. He says the world is witnessing history unfold as young people in Egypt have come out in large numbers to demand change.

James R. Clapper is a retired Lieutenant General in the U.S. Air Force and currently the Director of the National Intelligence. He was nominated by President Obama and confirmed on August 5, 2010. Clapper stated the following at a recent congressional hearing: “The term Muslim Brotherhood is an umbrella term for a variety of movements. In the case of Egypt a very heterogeneous group - largely secular, which has eschewed violence and has decried Al Queda as a perversion of Islam. They have pursued social ends, the betterment of political order in Egypt. There is no over arching agenda in particular in pursuit of violence.”

Yusuf al-Qaradawi, who is a major player in the Muslim Brotherhood, says, “I will shoot Allah’s enemies – the Jews.” The Daily Telegraph, a British newspaper wrote an article about al-Qaradawi and his book, The Lawful and Prohibited in Islam. Al-Qaradawi states in his book that wife beating is permissible after the failure of all other means of persuasion. In such circumstances, a husband may beat his wife "lightly with his hands, avoiding her face and other sensitive areas."

In a statement on Al-Jazeera on January 30, 2009, al Qaradawi said: “Throughout history, Allah has imposed upon the [Jews] people who would punish them for their corruption. The last punishment was carried out by [Adolf] Hitler. By means of all the things he did to them – even though they exaggerated this issue – he managed to put them in their place. This was divine punishment for them. Allah willing, the next time will be at the hand of the believers.”

In 1981 President Anwar Sadat of Egypt was killed by a group of attackers which included four enlisted men, an army major and a lieutenant. The attackers would eventually come to be identified as Islamist nationalists associated with the Muslim Brotherhood under the name of Islamic Jihad.

The following is from the Texas Insider Report: AUSTIN, Texas – “We have received many calls from the district quite concerned over the ongoing situation at Mansfield ISD. We have learned that as part of the five-year $1.3 Million grant, Arabic classes would be mandatory at Cross Timbers Intermediate School and Kenneth Davis Elementary School. The program would also be optional for students at T. A. Howard Middle School and Summit High School.” Change is in the air.

January 6, 2011 JOPPA GATE POLICE STATION 1977

I was talking to some friends on New Year’s Eve and I related this story about one of my trips to Israel. It was New Year’s Eve of 1977. Margaret and I along with some friends were walking through the streets in the old part of Jerusalem. We were in the part of the city that appears as I imagine it probably did in 77 B.C. It was about 11:00pm local time. We heard him first and then when we looked, we saw Santa Claus coming down the street ringing a bell and handing out candy. Now that is the one thing that I just would not have expected. As he approached us we asked if we could take a picture with him. Margaret and my friends gathered around Santa while I took the picture. Just as the flash on the camera lighted the darkness of the night I heard a scream. I looked down and saw that one of the ladies from our group was lying on the ground. She said, “He took my purse!” I immediately saw two Arab men running away. I handed my camera to someone. I guess I am like my black mouth cur, if something runs I am going to chase it. Remember, this was 1977 and I was much faster then. The chase was on but after just a short distance the two men split up. Just as they split up one of them dropped a very large knife. I chose one to follow, stayed with him, and after many turns I eventually caught him. Well, he didn’t want to be caught but that was fine with me. What he received next was what we in the Houston Police Department referred to as an “attitude adjustment.” I had a good hold on him but was disappointed when I realized that he did not have the purse. I guess the other one that I did not follow had it. I was about to bring him back to the scene of the crime when other people started to appear. Doors and windows were opening all around me. Now remember, those streets were only about 12 feet wide, the houses were joined together and there were no yards. You know what I am talking about, you have seen the pictures. In just a moment I went from being in control to having to decide how I was going to get out of this situation. I released him and then I slipped away through the crowd before anyone knew what was going on or what happened to me.

I made it back to Margaret and my friends. The lady was alright, the young Arab had only used the knife to cut the strap on her purse. Unfortunately her purse contained her passport. We were standing right in front of a convent where nuns lived. If you know Jerusalem, we were at the “Behold the Man Arches.” A nun allowed me call the police. I knew that I needed to get a report of the incident to show to the embassy the next day. Well two drunken Arab police officers came by and about all they could do was show us the way to a police station next to the Joppa Gate. We entered the very small, dusty, dimly lighted police station. As we sat on a bench in a very narrow passageway, we were all taking notice of the old metal door directly in front of us. Something or someone was on the other side of that door that didn’t want to be there. Finally an Israeli soldier arrived and took the report. At one point a truck pulled up outside and moments later about 12 Arab youths were ordered in under the direction of soldiers with automatic weapons. One of the officers looked at me and said, “OK, which one is it?” I was saddened to admit that they all looked the same to me.

So that is the time when Margaret and I spent New Year’s Eve in the Joppa Gate Police Station. To this day I wish that I had stopped the chase, picked up the knife and brought it home as a souvenir.

Wright Writes January 13, 2011 Shooting in Arizona

I am sure we are all aware of the tragedy that occurred in Tucson, Arizona on Saturday. The shooter is a 22 year old nut. I can’t say what should have been done or what laws should be created or changed, but in some cases it sure seems that some people should be identified by society and subjected to lawful mandates. These mandates might help prevent a few of the senseless attacks that happen across our nation. Let’s get real here; a lot of people knew that Loughner was a nut. We track sex offenders, how about tracking a few crazies we have running around our country. I read in the Courier that recently a man in this county pulled a pistol on a couple of our deputies. It was just a miracle that he didn’t kill one or more deputies. Well you can call it luck, a miracle, God’s infinite providence or whatever.

Our society seems to have problems with identifying people. Now how about if a person has mental problems? All kinds of names have been assigned to that group of people. Let’s admit that Loughner is a certified nut, who knew what he was doing and he went out of his way to do it. Now many lives are changed forever because of his actions.

Years I was working the night shift with the Houston Police Department. My wife was at home with our baby boy. On that particular night I arrested a man for burglary. While he was sitting in the back seat of the patrol car, he said in a calm clear voice, “I bet you have a little boy at home. I’ll tell what I am going to do. I know when you work. I will find out where you live. I am going to go to your house some night do things to that little boy so he will never be the same.” I didn’t say anything. I calmly removed my service revolver from the holster. I cocked it and turned and placed the end of that four inch blue steel barrel up next to his heart. His hands were cuffed behind his back. When cocked, a breeze could pull the trigger. My finger was on it and I am not sure what kept me from making that ever so slight squeeze. About that time I saw another officer walk by. Without moving the pistol I gently eased the hammer back. I called the officer, a friend of mine. I asked him to take the prisoner. He didn’t even asked why; we all knew each other that well.

I taught Margaret to shoot and shoot to kill; we just didn’t need to put up with that type of trash. Too bad Loughner didn’t give someone a good reason to kill him years ago. I don’t have the answers; I guess I just have the same questions as a lot of people in our country tonight.

December 30, 2010 CHRISTMAS SEASON

In the early 1900’s Margaret’s grandfather told his daughter, Margaret’s mother, that a vacation should be enjoyed three times, (a) planning the trip, (b) the trip itself and (c) remembering the trip. Well, I think of Christmas the same way. I enjoyed the time leading up to Christmas Day. I enjoyed the parties, the food, shopping for gifts and the Christmas programs. Then, of course, I enjoyed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I enjoyed Santa Claus and thinking about the time when our Savior became flesh and walked among us. I enjoyed watching the Christmas shows like the “Polar Express,” “Christmas Vacation,” “Scrooge” and the other wonderful Christmas movies. I have already written about one of my favorites, the Christmas Episode of the Andy Griffith Show. And finally, now I am enjoying it all again in my memory. I enjoy my presents all the way from nice handkerchiefs to tools for my woodworking shop. I enjoy watching the kids and the toys they received. I enjoy watching the kids along with Margaret, Hollis and Lloyd jumping on the trampoline that the kids got. I am enjoying telling friends that I really liked the pound cake that they gave me. In the middle of the night when I wake up I will even enjoy a few of the special Christmas candies and cookies that found their way into our house. I am having a problem with one area though, I can’t figure out how to successfully get rid of those pounds that I picked up between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

What a wonderful country we live in and what a wonderful season we celebrate. I am a Christian and I enjoy the celebration of Jesus Christ’s birth. At the same time I equally enjoy the secular events, wishes and stories of the Christmas season. It is truly a time of merriment and good cheer. For the most part, doesn’t it seem that people are friendlier with their happy greetings? The mood is festive as family and friends come together. We even purchase gifts for our pets, well at least some of us. One friend even gave us some fresh baked dog biscuits that she concocted herself.

I watched the History Channel and saw a story about World War I when the opposing armies stopped killing each other, exchanged smokes and even played soccer for the day. That just goes to prove to us that it is a very special day and season. So, my friend with other traditions, don’t even try to take our Christmas season away from us. Even though it is a day of peace, it is worth fighting for.

For us baby boomers, remember the Bob Hope Christmas Special as well as the ones with Andy Williams, Dean Martin, Perry Como and how about John Denver? I think I will start right now and enjoy thinking about next Christmas. Joy to the World!!

We celebrate Christmas

On December twenty-fifth.

Some say it’s not really the day

But the day is not important

Since the story is not a myth.

We have Santa Claus

And presents around the tree,

Ribbons and bows,

Friends and family.

Rudolph’s nose

And mistletoe

Everyone knows,

So the story goes,

That the North Pole is the place to be.

Or maybe it is home

With the lights and the sounds

Fruitcake

Fudge

And holiday clowns.

Then we always return

To that O Little Town

Where it all began

There in Bethlehem.

Christmas in the Mayberry Jail December 16, 2010

Margaret and I love the Andy Griffith Show and know of only one black and white Christmas episode. The “Christmas Story” was the eleventh episode of the first season. The episode was based on the Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It started out on Christmas Eve with a couple of prisoners in the Mayberry jail. Barney volunteered to stay but Andy decided to release the incarcerated men with a promise to return. So Andy, his family and friends would be celebrating Christmas at home.

Enter Ben Weaver dragging Sam Muggins into the Mayberry jail. Ben wanted Sam arrested for moonshining. We all thought that Mayberry was dry but somehow Weaver’s Department Store had acquired a type of permit to sell spirits.

Sam was just making a little merriment for use at home but the store owner looked at it as cutting in on his profits. Barney and Andy couldn’t believe Ben was serious. Old Ben was acting just like Scrooge insisting that Sam stay in jail over Christmas Eve. That meant that either Andy or Barney would have to spend that very important evening at the jail with Sam. Also, Sam would be away from his wife and children.

Then Andy came up with a plan. The Christmas party would be moved to the jail and even Sam could have his family with him. Old “Bah Humbug” Ben protested. Then Ben began to act peculiar. He attempted to steal a public bench. Andy considered arresting Ben but Miss Ellie pled his case to Andy. Ben was sent away. Then Ben parked in front of a fire hydrant and Barney brought him in. Again the violation was forgiven.

Then the viewer watches as old Ben stands on boxes in the alley peering into the jail and watching while everyone on the inside is having such a wonderful time. The viewers along with Andy begin to realize that Ben is lonely and wants to be locked up at the Mayberry jail. That was the only way Ben felt he could be a part of the warmth of the season being played out inside the jail. Andy went outside and found Ben.

Andy always seemed to come up with the best solution to every problem. Ben was arrested but allowed to go home and collect a few things. When Ben returned he opened his suitcase and acted as if he didn’t know how the presents got there. Ben had presents for everyone. A wonderful Christmas Eve was had by all at the Mayberry jail.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased.” Luke 2:13-14.

Baby Jesus stolen from the Courthouse Lawn. December 9, 2010

Oh my goodness! I read in the Courier that someone has stolen baby Jesus from the Nativity Scene on the Courthouse lawn. I thought the Grinch Who Stole Christmas was bad but this is even worse. Even though He was and is Deity, Jesus had a hard time while he was here on Earth. Jesus has had many people trying to either prevent his birth or to kill him after he was born.

An order from Caesar Augustus had forced Mary and Joseph to leave their homes in Nazareth and come to the home of Joseph's ancestors there in Bethlehem.

Herod the Great was the Roman client king of Judea at the time. Baby Jesus was born in a cave east of the Little Town of Bethlehem in the valley where Ruth and Naomi had gleaned the fields. I have been there two times and have a vivid memory of the site.

After Jesus was baptized by John, He went into the desert where he fasted for forty days and forty nights. During that time, Jesus was tempted by Satan himself.

Jesus was not appreciated in his home town of Nazareth. Jesus was constantly hounded by people who either wanted to be healed or be given something to eat. He was criticized for visiting in the home of a tax collector. He was betrayed by Judas Iscariot, one of his own apostles. Peter denied even knowing Him. Jewish leaders turned him over to Pilate to be executed. He was stripped, mocked, beaten and crowned with a crown of thorns. He was placed on the cross. He took on the sins of the world and was forsaken by God, his Father. He physically died on that cross. And now someone has gone and stole Baby Jesus from the Courthouse. Thank God that Jesus still lives today. Maybe the Holy Spirit will visit with the person who took the Baby Jesus from the Courthouse lawn.

Camp Douglas December 2, 2010

Camp Douglas has been described as the Andersonville of the North. After seeing a documentary on Camp Douglas I became interested in it. One of the players in this story is Secretary of War Edwin Stanton who I mentioned in one of my recent articles. Camp Douglas, named after Senator Stephen A. Douglas, became a Union Prisoner-of-War camp for captured Confederate soldiers in 1862. During its existence, there was calculated humiliation and torture of the POWs. The Camp Officer in Charge was told to consider all economy possible to run the day to day operations of the Camp. As punishment, during one period of time, all vegetables and fruits were denied the internees which resulted in scurvy. It is believed that over 6,000 Confederate soldiers died while at Camp Douglas. That is more than the number of American men who had died during all of the previous U.S. wars combined. Some referred to Camp Douglas (located in downtown Chicago) as “80 Acres of Hell.”

During one investigation by the Chicago Police Department it was learned that eight women and a child were found in the Camp. They were offered escort to the Union lines. They denied the offer. They were offered room and board in Chicago, again they denied the offer. They were offered jobs as nurses to the Confederate soldiers. They accepted and stayed until the last prisoner was released.

Upon entering the Camp, all Negros in Confederate uniforms were immediately executed. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton wanted harsh conditions placed on all prisoners and Colonel Charles V. DeLand gladly made sure Stanton’s wishes were carried out.

The University of Chicago, which been a Baptist Theological Seminary, was located next to the Camp. The students of the university would give aid to the camp prisoners by giving them clothing, bedding, food and medical supplies. During one of DeLand’s outrageous actions he took all of the coats away from the prisoners under his charge.

Another commander of Camp Douglas was Colonel Benjamin J. Sweet. Sweet received information that there was a plot in the City of Chicago to raid Camp Douglas and free the prisoners. Sweet ordered Martial Law for the City of Chicago and without a warrant, had 106 citizens of Chicago arrested, including Charles Walsh and Judge Buckner Stith Morris. Walsh was the leader of the “Sons of Liberty” and Morris was the Presiding Judge over the Circuit Court of Illinois.

During one Prisoner of War exchange all of the Confederate soldiers were released and the Union POWs were sent to Camp Douglas for processing. They found the conditions so deplorable they rioted and burned several of the buildings. The punishment was harsh and swift.

I have heard of Andersonville and its horrors all my life. I truly believe that the conditions were absolutely deplorable. But think about these things: (1) Andersonville guards were dying at about the same rate as the POWs as there was n o food or supplies available (2) Sherman could have freed the POWs at Camp Sumter, also known as Andersonville, but choose not to thinking it would be a continuous drain on the South (3) Camp Douglas had plenty of food and supplies and yet withheld them from prisoners.

At the end of the war, Colonel Sweet received the order to release all prisoners except those above the rank of colonel. Those who took the oath of allegiance were provided transportation home but those who did not were on their own. About 1,770 prisoners refused to take the oath.

Henry Wirz, Confederate Commander of Andersonville, was arrested after the war. Wirz rejected an offer of parole in exchange for his incrimination of Confederate President Jeff Davis. Secretary of War Stanton pushed for his trial. Wirz was sentenced to death by hanging. In a letter to President Andrew Johnson, Wirz asked for clemency, but the letter went unanswered. He was hung on November 10, 1865. Colonel Benjamin Sweet was promoted to Brevet Brigadier General. The Union destroyed the records of Camp Douglas. Edwin Stanton was appointed by President Grant to the Supreme Court. Four days after he was confirmed by the Senate he died.

Another Trip to M.D. Anderson

Margaret and I drove to Houston today so I could get my monthly injection at M.D. Anderson. There really isn’t much to it. I check in, they take the medication out of the cooler and give it time to warm, they take my vitals and the nurse asks me a few questions. They are always concerned as to whether or not the patient has any pain. Most of the time I know the nurse who administers the injection. They know I live in the country and that my family and I play music and because of that, there is always some non-medical conversation going on. There is one story that I often tell about one nurse who attends the same church as a friend of mine in Houston. Once I said to him, “April has seen more of my rear end that any woman alive.” He responded by saying, “Yes, she told me that too and she also said that she wasn’t all that impressed.” I have heard it said that laughter is the best medicine.

Well today we arrived a few minutes early. We decided to have a snack from the facility on the first floor of the Clark Clinic and as soon as we rounded the corner leading to the lobby we saw a familiar sight. Every year M.D. Anderson has a fund raiser in which children with cancer do artwork for Christmas cards and other items. In fact last year around Christmas I wrote about the Christmas plate that I purchased.

This year as I had my snack, Margaret purchased a few things. When she had completed her purchase and the items were placed in a bag we walked away heading for the elevator. As we stood in front of the elevator waiting for the door to open, I turned to Margaret and said, “Let me see what you purchased.” She handed me the bag, I slipped one of the packages of cards out. I looked and commented on the picture. It was a good choice. Then I turned it over to read the child’s name. It was Aidan age 11 who lives in Houston, Texas. Then something happened that I didn’t foresee. I started crying. Not aloud. That is something that I wouldn’t want to do at M.D. Anderson. My eyes were full of tears and I couldn’t speak. I could feel my lips quiver. The elevator door opened, we stepped in and Margaret pushed 7.

By the time we reached the seventh floor I had regained my composure.

Actually on most trips to M.D. Anderson I usually shed a few tears, but it is not about me, it always happens when I see someone else who may be hurting or having a difficult time getting around. Or sometimes it happens when I see the love and concern in the face of a loved one. Life is a little different sitting in a waiting room at M.D. Anderson.

Cancer touches almost every family and I have become very much aware of the pain it causes for patients as well as caregivers and friends. I likewise have lost my mother, father and brother to cancer.

Aidan from Houston, I hope and pray that you and countless others are having a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Christmas Plate

Sea Island off the coast of South Carolina and Georgia.

Margaret was raised on a “sea island” near Charleston, South Carolina. There are many sea islands off the coast of South Carolina and Georgia. Most of these islands are now fancy resorts. You may have heard of Jekyll Island, St. Simons Island, Kiawah, Isle of Palms and others. The area around St. Simons Island was immortalized by Eugenia Price with the St. Simon’s Trilogy including “Lighthouse.” The 19th-century poet Sidney Lanier wrote “The Marshes of Glynn"

In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain

Of the live-oak, the marsh, and the main.

The little green leaves would not let me alone in my sleep;

Up-breathed from the marshes, a message of range and of sweep,

Interwoven with waftures of wild sea-liberties, drifting,

Came through the lapped leaves sifting, sifting,

Came to the gates of sleep.

Margaret grew up on James Island. One historic event occurred on James Island when on April 12, 1861 at 4:30am, a mortar was fired from Fort Johnson. Thus began the bombardment of Fort Sumter and the beginning of the War between the North and the South.

Having been raised on a sea island, Margaret can speak Gullah. After 18th-century European-American settlement of Georgia and Florida, planters imported enslaved Africans as laborers. Many were used to work the cotton, rice and indigo plantations on the sea islands. The slaves developed the notable and distinct Gullah/Geechee Creole culture and language which has survived to contemporary times.

The following is from the Book of John, printed for Gullah speaking people.

15so dat ebrybody wa bleebe pon um gwine git true life wa ain gwine neba end. 16Cause God lob all de people een de wol sommuch dat e gii we e onliest Son. God sen we um so dat ebrybody wa bleebe pon um ain gwine dead. Dey gwine lib faebamo. 17God ain sen e Son eenta de wol fa condemn um. God sen e Son fa come sabe de people shru e Son.

To sum it up, the land is beautiful, full of history and culture.

Wright Writes November 11, 2010

If you were born in the 40’s, 50’s or 60’s surely you remember Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. There is a line in the movie where the Reverend Mother says to Maria, “I lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help.” To me that sounds like the Reverend Mother gets her help from the hills themselves. The verse actually reads New American Standard, “I will lift up my eyes to the mountains: from whence shall my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” That comes from Psalms 121:1-2. The help doesn’t come from the hills themselves but from the Lord who made them.

This is just one example of how statements, speeches and texts can be taken out of context. Politicians and the news media seem to make a practice of doing this. Sadly, preachers even do it from time to time. Study, read and make yourself aware of these partial truths so you will not be misled.

This is the first article. They go from oldest to newest.

INTRODUCTION

December 7, 2009

I suppose you have noticed that this is a new column in the Houston County Courier. My occasional Letters to the Editor initiated emails from “fans.” One person said she enjoyed my "writes" and right after that I received a communiqué from the Courier’s Editor. She had already named the column, so here we are.

There is a bit of irony in all this as I think back to the sixties when other interests seemed to come between me and Senior English. You see back then I didn’t make the grade so today my certificate of G.E.D. from the State of Texas is in a manila folder, properly, organized, tucked away in my file cabinet. Mrs. Vanderburg who taught at Silsbee High School is no longer with us but I hope that somehow, after all of these years, I am vindicated.

And finally another interesting twist which involves my son and daughter-in-law who live in Kennard. A week or so ago the Houston County Courier took down their old sign and put up a new one. April happened to see the old sign, stopped in and asked if she could have it. A phone call was made to Lloyd and now the black and white, somewhat tattered, sixteen foot long Courier sign is in April and Lloyd’s house. You would have to seen their house to understand, but theirs may be the only house in Houston County which could accommodate such a sign.

Now let me see, where did I put that G.E.D.?

THE CHRISTMAS PLATE FROM M.D. ANDERSON

I pay regular visits to the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. I have been going there at least once a month since 2005. A few weeks ago I made medical history when I became the first patient to receive a heart catheterization in M.D. Anderson’s brand new Cardiac Catheterization Unit. But before we went up the elevator we noticed that in the lobby of the main building the volunteers had recently set up their Christmas store.

Of course the chief items for sale there are the cards designed by the children of M.D. Anderson. However, as I entered the store an oversized blue plate caught my eye. Margaret and I spent some time perusing through the beautiful cards, men’s ties, aprons, book bags and more, but I kept going back to the blue plate. We finally agreed upon a box of cards which pictured a simple watercolor design of the three wise men.

Through the pens and brushes of a child the greatest story ever told was conveyed. But I kept thinking of the plate, so Margaret told me to go ahead and get it. The plate was dark royal blue with stars scattered about. Around the border were rows of brightly colored buildings. Now I have been to Bethlehem on two occasions and the plate reminds me of the pictures of the area which live in my mind’s eye. The greatest event in the history of mankind occurred on the slopes of that valley just under the little town of Bethlehem.

The plate is a beautiful work of art which I will cherish. The artwork was created by a 14 year old boy from Houston named Carlo. Merry Christmas and God bless Carlo and all the kids who use their talents to raise money which will help cancer patients all over the world.

http://www.mdanderson.org/

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2009

Merry Christmas. These two words express a traditional greeting which has been used by millions of people in the United States and all over the world for centuries. Christmas is a time of worship and celebration of the birth of Jesus as told in the Gospels. For most, the greeting brings a degree of happiness, hope, expectation and evokes many poignant memories. Family, friends, places, good food, a tree, lights, Santa Claus, gifts, children, faith and celebrations instantly come to mind. The greeting can bring a smile or a tear. My family and I cherish this season as we celebrate the birth of our Creator and Savior.

We also celebrate Santa Claus. Yes, I have heard it all – pagan time of year, pagan rituals, commercialism and the fact that Jesus wasn’t really born in December. While many thought that “Xmas” was taking Christ out of Christmas, the spelling does have ancient merit. For me personally, I would prefer to read ”Xmas” as opposed to hearing “Happy Holidays.” We rejoice in the words of Luke, “And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

And finally, in 1897 a letter to the editor of the New York Sun brought about this familiar response, “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.” Merry Christmas.

AMERICAN HISTORY

Andy Griffith once told Opie and his friends about a gun so loud, the shot could be heard all around the world. You see, Andy was using his wisdom to get the boys to learn more about history. If you know the episode, you will remember that Andy was also trying to get himself out of hot water with Miss Crump, Opie’s school teacher. Now even if you have never heard of Andy, Opie, Aunt Bea or Barney, you may still get the point of this article.

For a moment let’s think of American history. The following questions can apply to all ages. Can you say more than a sentence about George Washington? What about Jefferson and Franklin? Did you know that a peace officer who stops you for speeding has to obey the laws set forth in our Constitution? Juneteenth is celebrated here in Houston County. How much do you know about it? Did you know that there were seven Presidents before George Washington? They were Presidents under the Articles of Confederation; Washington was the first under the Constitution. Have you ever read the Emancipation Proclamation, another noteworthy episode on the Andy Griffith show? It may surprise you.

One good source of ancient history is the Bible. Learn to use and enjoy the resources found in our public library. The internet is wonderful, however be sure you are on trusted sites. I hope this article stimulates interest in our history. Maybe it could be a New Year’s resolution. It is a lot easier than losing weight. And the old cliché, “They didn’t teach us that in school” is not a valid excuse. As I understand it, schools these days are teaching to the test and it may not be on the test. Maybe you can start by purchasing all of the old black and white episodes of the Andy Griffith Show.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Andy_Griffith_Show

TERRORIST IN TADMOR

So what’s the deal with these folks who want to blow us up here in the United States? I have lived in Loeb (now Lumberton), Bellaire (Houston), and Kennard, Texas. So far I don’t believe that I have met anyone that would make someone from Nigeria so mad that they would be willing to fly to America, rent a car and drive to Kennard just to engage in a fist fight. So how could the young man be so mad that he would stuff his underwear full of explosives and blow himself and everyone else up before they even touched down on American soil. I wouldn’t think that the fellow would even know how to get to Haggervile or Tadmor. Right now I think that I only personally know one person from Nigeria and she is one of my nurses at M.D. Anderson. I am just wondering if they are watching “I Love Lucy” or “Sanford and Son” reruns and that’s what is really making them mad.

Then I watch Fox News and wonder what Janet Napolitano is all about? I think I could get some guys from Houston County together and resolve some of these “terrorist” problems. It seems sometimes our leaders may be concentrating their efforts in the wrong direction. I once visited a church in Houston and learned that some senior adult ladies on a tour bus had been stopped while trying to cross Galveston Bay on the ferry. They had to get off the bus while it was being checked and they were all interrogated. Now they may be mad at the minister of music at their church for playing the music too loud during the worship service but I don’t think they would go so far as to blow up Galveston or what is left of Crystal Beach.

And let me ask you this, have you ever heard of a problem concerning security with El Al, the national airline of Israel? I remember traveling on one of their flights in 1973. I was standing in line when a uniformed man approached me. He was carrying a short automatic weapon over his shoulder. He asked me to follow him. I was then instructed to go into a little room and remove everything but my underwear. After experiencing that, “failed technology” seems to be a mute point.

THIS IS WHO I AM

When you read this I hope that I am comfortably recovering after having a valve replacement performed on my heart. Dr. Ott at St Luke’s Texas Heart Institute in Houston is my surgeon. So, I would like to take this opportunity to tell you who I am. First of all, this weekly article in the Courier is just a way of bringing to you a bit of praise, something interesting, a little humor or a challenge.

So who am I: I am a third generation Texan and Southerner since our people came from England, Scotland and Ireland. I also have just a touch of American Indian blood in my veins. I have a sense of humor, am a bit of a rebel, and play music with my family. I am a Christian and belong to a Southern Baptist Church. I consider myself a conservative but more liberal than some liberals that I know. I have a G.E.D. and am retired from the Navy Reserves and Houston Police Department. I own many guns but don’t hunt. I have a Phlegmatic personality which makes me pretty much consistent, relaxed, rational, curious, and observant. I tried smoking cigarettes, cigars and pipes but didn’t like them. I never drank a beer and can’t stand the taste of wine. I never drank a cup of coffee. Two my favorite movies are “To Kill a Mockingbird” and “The Wind and the Lion.” I have cancer and my mother, father and brother died of cancer. I am a Caucasian male but since my mother died when I was about three, I was raised by a black lady. She was there when I joined the Navy at age 19 and she was there when I came home four years later. I was born in 1947 and lived my early years in Loeb, Texas. My wife and I built our own log house near Kennard. I started and continue to run a major music festival in Palestine, Texas. In March the festival will be in its ninth year. My wife and I have run a jam session and open mic at the old Wooden Nickel and currently at the Camp Street Café since 1997. I have never been without a job since age 16 when I started out as an apprentice butcher at the Calder Big Star in Beaumont, Texas. I watch Fox News. When I was 27 I married Margaret Gardner Wright from Charleston, South Carolina. My youngest son was the Mountain Dulcimer National Champion in 2000. My oldest son has been a full time volunteer at public school since 2000. He currently works with Coach Denman at the Kennard School. I am an ordained deacon, donated a couple of gallons of blood over the years and love trees but don’t hug them. I have been shot at and have shot back. I am on FaceBook and not a member of AARP. I have been to Israel twice and in the “Summer of Love” I was standing at the intersection of Haight and Ashbury. I ran for Justice of the Peace once and lost. I am a bad speller and talk with a Southeast Texas accent. I lost a dear friend to AIDS who was a repented homosexual. I taught myself Visual Basic. I am proud of my Navy medals with the most important, the Navy Commendation Metal. Well, that’s about who the person who writes this article is. I hope that I am up walking around when this article is printed in the Courier.

THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND

Thank you for being a friend. A true close friend is a very important person in our life. Be honest and name your close friends. Keep in mind that an acquaintance, a neighbor or a person in the work place may not be a close friend. If you move or change jobs, will that true friendship follow you.

Friends of our youth may not remain friends since our interests and goals are developing and changing. Career paths and life styles will diminish a relationship with a high school friend. However, I have noticed that friendships may be rekindled later on in life through class reunions and such.

A true friend is a person you can talk to about good things and bad. They probably have the same religious and political beliefs but that is not always the case. A friend is willing to go out of their way to help. That type of friendship has to be developed over time.

Thank you for being a friend – The following was written by Andrew Gold: “Traveled down the road and back again - your heart is true you're a pal and a confidant. I'm not ashamed to say - I hope it always will stay this way - My hat is off, won't you stand up and take a bow. And if you threw a party - Invited everyone you knew - You would see, the biggest gift would be for me - and the card attached would say, Thank you for being a friend.”

REMEMBER

Remember . . . Remember the Alamo! Remember the Maine! In this article the word “remember” is used as in to remember an event, person or situation. Are there readers who remember when the trees on Hwy 7 between Beria and Kennard were so thick and close to the road that you would drive through a tunnel because the limbs from either side would touch in the middle? Does anyone remember when the county jail in Houston County was on top of the courthouse? How about Westerman’s Store in Kennard? Do you remember Poll Tax? Do you remember hunting deer with dogs?

Some will remember when Channel 9 out of Lufkin was our only choice of TV viewing on the East side of Houston County. Some will remember Saturday mornings with Mighty Mouse, Fury, Sky King and Rin Tin Tin. I remember when at certain times during the day, I could hear bells playing hymns coming from a church in Kennard.

I dreamed of having a Schwinn Cruiser with the battery operated headlights and horn. Remember curb feelers, the big fluffy dice hanging from the rear view mirror, naugahyde, roll and pleat, and the wrist breaker that we would attach to the steering wheel. Mine had a yellow rose in it. Did you eat your Wheaties or did you really enjoy a bowl of Malt-O-Meal? Did you ever wear a boat neck shirt or think of yourself as a Beatnik? Do you remember being at Woodstock or know anyone that thinks they were? I loved my penny loafers and enjoyed peanuts in my Coke. Do you remember the term “span” in the game of marbles or play Jacks with the girls. “Red rover, red rover let Ronny come over” or “ashes, ashes we all fall down” were words we used in the games we played at recess. Do you remember picking up the phone and hearing two people have a conversation or hearing the phone ring and it rang two shorts, a long and a short?

Then we have memorials that help us remember events of which we were not a part. We have memorials in Washington D.C. and on courthouse squares. Even the historical markers on the side of our highways are important memorials. I am aware of a little known memorial in Houston which commemorates an important event of the time. The memorial is a small plaque on the ground next to the sidewalk on Beechnut in the Meyerland Plaza area. Gary Herod was a Texas Air National Guard pilot. When the plane failed, Herod could have ejected safely but chose to stay with the plane to avoid populated areas in then-rural sections of southwest Houston. Now there is a Gary L. Herod Elementary School in nearby Maplewood.

I guess that I am still thinking of entering the New Year and wondering what it will reveal. Parents, tell the family stories to your children so they can pass them down. Read a few history books. And by the way, the USS Maine was a battleship moored in the Havana Harbor on February 15, 1898. During the night there was an explosion and the Maine sank. Two hundred and sixty six sailors went to the bottom with her. That event opened the way for the Spanish American War.

FRANK ROBINSON

Guy and Pipp Gillette first introduced me to Frank Robinson. Right off I was so impressed with the man and his music. I felt that I was privileged to know someone only known by a few. I was learning about a man in the present that was so connected to the past. At the same time I was experiencing a void. You see I knew little about the Blues or the people that played it. Most of my knowledge is in Appalachian fiddle tunes also known as Old Time. The music world has many venues and with each, the names, places and styles change drastically.

Every New Year’s Eve Margaret and I host the entertainment, jam sessions and open mic at the Camp Street Café. I had the idea to invite Frank Robinson. I found where he lived and went by his house. He met me at the door. Even after explaining to him who I was and what I wanted he was still a bit hesitant to say yes. In the end I left it up to him if he wanted to come or not. Sure enough on New Year’s Eve I saw him coming through the door with his guitar. That evening I introduced him the best I could and asked him to do whatever he wanted for thirty or forty minutes. The café lights were lowered and Frank started. Frank was very comfortable with his guitar and as his fingers brushed across the strings it was apparent we were hearing the Blues. The words were there, a story was told. The subject of the song may be centered on a woman named Pearly Mae or something like that. It seemed everyone in the audience just sit there in awe as Frank sang his songs back to back.

Frank came to the Camp Street Café on several New Year’s events after that first year. Folks would ask me if that Blues man was coming back. Frank was always quiet at our events unless you asked him questions and then he would start talking. I am sorry that I didn’t document some of the information. I do know that he did some recording in Holland.

Actually I am not qualified to write about Frank Robinson or anything about the Blues but I do know that I have been privileged to hear Frank and allow him to open the window to our musical heritage – a part of Americana.

VALENTINE'S DAY 2010

This is a day to make rhythm and rhyme

So the obvious would be for the word valentine.

A word that conjures up love and more

An ancient thought of tradition and lore.

Most commonly it is between a girl and a boy

This includes planning and scheming along with great ploy.

But love - it’s between the young and old

Whose names may be known and stories have been told.

There was the story of Bonnie and Clyde

They had love for each other but from the law they would ride.

In the days of Octavian was the love of Antony and Cleopatra

It was the bite of the asp that sent her to the hereafter.

The words of Shakespeare brought Romeo and Juliet alive

But it was the poison and knife, they would not survive.

Frankie and Johnny were lovers, no one would ever deny

But Frankie shot Johnny for making love to Nellie Bly.

Samson slew the enemy with the jawbone of an ass

And Delila found the secret to Sampson’s strength alas.

And don’t forget Rhett and Scarlett, she was no lamb

Yet in the end Rhett said, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

For all you lovers – have a great Valentine’s Day.

LUCKY THE HORSE

Recently I was told of a lady in Galveston who found a toy horse in a dumpster. The horse was just a small part of the mountains of debris created by Hurricane Ike. The horse was about two and a half feet tall and had mechanical features that allowed the horse to move its head and mouth. Fake horse hair covered the toy animal. When removed from the dumpster the hair was soiled and matted and the battery operated mechanics were basically destroyed. The lady who rescued the toy had it professionally cleaned and its fuzzy coat restored and then named the horse Lucky. The story continues, but to keep it short enough for this article, Lucky was given to a man who had a daughter who had expressed interest in the toy horse. Then one day the lady who had first rescued Lucky once again found the toy horse in a dumpster. As before, Lucky was saved, restored and soon the little horse entered the life of yet another little girl. A man from up north was in Galveston for work and Lucky was sent to his daughter back home. I am happy to report that Lucky is now cared for, brushed daily and sometime has to wear clothes a little out of character for the pony but tasteful and fun for a 10 year old girl.

From time to time we may encounter a man or woman in the “dumpster.” Possibly a storm like Katrina has placed the person there. Many different circumstances may cause a person to wake up in a dumpster. Some could be from their own doing. Drugs and alcohol seem to play a major part in person’s life being thrown away. A life time having spent as a law enforcement officer, I have come in contact with many situations involving those problems as well as many others. But whatever the reason we have a duty to help that person out of the dumpster.

Deu 15:7 If there be among you a poor man of one of thy brethren within any of thy gates in thy land which the LORD thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine hand from thy poor brother:

Lucky was a victim of a storm and then at the mercy of his owner. Lucky had no say so in his trip to the dumpster. As with some men, Lucky ended up in the dumpster twice yet ultimately saved.

CURRY'S STORE IN KENNARD, TEXAS

Living in small town USA sometimes brings challenges. Places to obtain goods and services are usually a number of miles away. But if you are fortunate there will be a general store in town. In our case there is such a store. In regard to food, we normally only purchase emergency food items there, however, there is one exception. On certain days our favorite ice cream goes on sale.

The store also sells hardware, tools, car parts, tires and a line of equipment for home, garden and ranch needs. Sometimes I will go to the store and say to the owner, “I need a thing about this long with a bend right here that fits on this thing.” Now my weakness and desire is the line of equipment of a certain color. There are chain saws, blowers and limb saws. There are all kinds of mowers and tillers.

They can help you with plumbing needs, nails, roach poison, dog food. And when I go back to have the mower fixed I see the owner – not some kid that I have never seen before and only knows how to help me with paperwork that goes with the repair.

So in regard to some things, we have the big city beat. The local store is a good place to go because you see friends and catch up on news. The UPS man comes in the store to ask directions to someone’s house. And if you are a bit hungry you can asked the lady behind the register for a slice of cheese to go with your crackers and soft drink. To quote the late Bob Murphy of Nacogdoches, “For the guys that don’t have anything to do, that is where they go to do it.”

Sometimes we go to our general store when we have injuries. One day I cut my head and didn’t have anyone to take a look at it – so I went to our general store. You just don’t get treatment like that at the big stores in the city. Thanks Mike and Judy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogpKqOg7Jns

TEXAS INDEPENDENCE DAY 2010

I woke up this morning and realized that it was March 2^nd which is an important date in Texas history. It is Texas Independence Day. Texas is a most interesting and colorful state. Even the unique shape of the state makes it stand out and recognizable. The people who paved the way for Texas to become a republic were larger than life. Even the badge of the Texas Ranger is distinguished and distinctive.

Mexico claimed the land known as Texas but was not doing anything with it. Though Texas was Spanish territory at the time of the purchase, Thomas Jefferson and his government deemed the Red River
watershed, which drained directly into the Mississippi, to be part of the natural boundaries of the Louisiana Purchase. The people who lived on the land wanted to make it their home and had a vision to make Texas great. Because of that, the land drew people from all over. One theory purports that the American settlers wanted to attach their land claims to an American territory rather than a Spanish one
to gain more American-held land. “GTT” was written on doors and various places to represent their statement concerning the future for their lives. “Gone To Texas” became a statement known throughout the United States. The lure of Texas got the attention of men like Houston, Crockett, Fannin, Bowie, Austin and Travis. Many others were involved in the transition as Texas became a republic. Tradition tells us of Emily Morgan, “the sweetest rose of color.” She became the Yellow Rose of Texas. In the very beginning, when Moses Austin first crossed into Texas, his companion was a Negro slave. His name was Richmond. Lorenzo de Zavala was born in Yucatan. At the very moment Santa Anna was at the Alamo, Zavala was helping the Texans prepare for their independence. Delegates at Washington-on-the-Brazos elected him vice-president of Texas.

On April 19, 1836 the Texans crossed Buffalo Bayou to maintain possession of the road to the Lynchburg ferry. Then history was truly made on April 21 at 3:00pm. In the next twenty minutes a makeshift, ill armed, undisciplined bunch of farmers met a larger, well-led military force and completely overwhelmed it. Fleeing Mexican became mired in a nearby marsh and the pursuing Texans leaped in to finish them off. The soldiers in Santa Anna’s army were pleading, “Me no Alamo! Me no Goliad!”

Sometimes as I travel around the state I run across people that know nothing about our history. They may know a few names like Davy Crockett and Sam Houston but have no idea about happened at Goliad, San Felipe or Gonzales. But those are all part of how the great State of Texas came into existence. What a history! Even our flag stands out – oh speaking of flags, just remember – blood flows down. That means the white is on the top and the red at the bottom. Also look at the 5 point star and think of a man. Too many times I have seen the red flowing upward and the little man standing on his head. If you are going to fly the Texas flag, please be sure to fly it correctly and proudly.

SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY

Southern Hospitality; yes, it is real and yes, it still exists. Does it come naturally? It may for some. I would say that mine was passed down to me from my ancestors. I am 3^rd generation Texan and from there my roots even go back to several southern states. They came to America in the early 1700s. Through passing of time and space I believe family attributes are acquired. My folks were faith based people with strong senses of honor, staunchly protecting their name and reputation. There were strict dress codes that required ladies to wear gloves on visits to town. Men wore hats, but never inside.

House guests were always offered something to drink and/or eat. Meals were a special occasion and table manners were observed. Margaret and I visited with friends in upper state South Carolina. For breakfast our friend made some biscuits and I commented on how delicious they were. In a smooth voice that is common to that area she responded, “Yes, aren’t they good?” Now the “good” took a long time to say. It was “G U O O O D.” A beautiful accent.

More than once people have said to Margaret or me, “I have always heard of Southern Hospitality and now I know what it is.” This Southern way has been passed down through the genes of our ancestors and also strongly by example. Now I am aware that times change and traditions are modified. Even though we may not always adhere to our traditions, I still believe that ladies go first, then men and finally the children. No one should begin eating until the hostess starts hers.

It seems our world today is trying to destroy our family values. I believe as goes our family so goes our nation. Southern Hospitality is something to be proud of and an attempt should be made to keep it alive. So, “Come on in and sit down. Can I offer you anything?”

NONOTECHNOLOGY

This past weekend I was talking to a young man who was attending LSU in Baton Rouge. I asked him what he was studying. It only took him about four sentences to get so far over my head that I was completely out of the conversation. Then I asked a few basic questions and we worked from there.

He is studying nanotechnology. The students there are working in a world of miniature where everything is measured on the nanoscale. Nanotech is the study of controlling matter on molecular and atomic scale. To put in our terms, a nano is about one billionth of a yard stick. Now think about that. So the students are looking at structures of 100 nanometers or smaller. To put that scale in another context, the comparative size of a nanometer to a meter is the same as that of a marble to the size of the earth.

On December 29, 1959 Richard Feynman described a process by which the ability to manipulate individual atoms and molecules might be developed, using one set of precise tools to build and operate another proportionally smaller set, and so on down to the needed scale.

Future implications of nanotechnology have the potential to create many new materials and devices with a vast range of applications, such as in medicine, electronics and energy production.

So what is the purpose of this article? Just think of the size of our planet compared to the size of the universe. Now think of the size of material measured in nanometers. What if there is another size even smaller than a nanometer? Now consider the “big bang” theory, OK just wondering if you think it all came into existence by accident or maybe there is a “creator” involved? Just something to think about.

HEALTH CARE

Health care seems to be the big issue these days. I have to admit that I know nothing about the subject since the heart of the matter is insurance. I have paid into some type of insurance for as long as I remember. I have auto insurance, insurance for my house and property but it is all a great mystery to me. I have been offered the option to purchase additional policies for cancer, flood, burial and many others that I can’t even remember right now. Don’t get me wrong, I have the insurance because I want it but in another day and time I saw insurance in a different way. I compared it to gambling. I realized that I was betting that I would need to use the insurance and the companies were betting that I wouldn’t. I was betting that my house would flood. I no longer have flood insurance here in Kennard but I did feel I needed it when living in Bellaire only inches above sea level.

In regard to the flood insurance, time would prove that the provider had the winning hand. I paid the premiums and my house never flooded. On the other hand, in 2005 I had the winning hand when I found out I had cancer. Since then I have had a couple of major procedures, two major surgeries, monthly and quarterly tests and a monthly injection. The injections alone cost about $7,000 each and I have had over 50. I truly believe that I am being treated by some of the best doctors at the best facilities in the world. For those monthly premiums the doctors are keeping me alive.

I am also enjoying good health. But guess what? It isn’t as simple as that. The insurance company has to make a profit or why should they continue to do it? Also I am thinking that when I get the $7,000 shot I am spending some of my money from past premiums but also premiums of many other folks. It is all a very complicated business to me.

Now I have family and friends who have no insurance and I am not sure what would happen to them if they received the same news that I did in 2005. I have been hearing that health care is a right, but I’m not so sure about that. Governments can hand out rights just as fast as they cancel them. Our government is no exception. Ever since grade school, I believed that our rights were addressed in the Declaration of Independence. It begins like this. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.” Take the time to read it all. Then there is a document called the Bill of Rights. You may want to read it also.

QUESTION AND ANSWER

Just the other day I was paying bills and watching Fox News. The phone rang and it was a telemarketer. While trying to get off of the phone I think I heard the following on TV.

QUESTION: You are a friend of Chicken Little; do you believe the sky is falling?

ANSWER: Well uh, uh, first I want to point out that the men and women serving our country are doing an excellent job of keeping our country safe. Congress spends endless hours making sure that adequate funds are available to supply our military with the equipment needed to keep our borders safe.

Now let me just comment on a related subject right now. I know a lot has been mentioned concerning laws passed in Arizona. I suggest that this should be looked at very closely and the states should work closer with the federal government. Now I am not going to talk anymore about that because committees are meeting right now addressing this issue.

Also along those same lines, a person could attempt to cause an incident but we really don’t know what was in that person’s mind. Terror may or may not have been his intention and of course we really don’t know if the intended victims were actually terrorized or simply shocked that someone would have the state of mind to cause such an event. I really don’t want to comment on any relationship or effect that the tea parties and conservative talk shows may have had on these home-grown shockers. I think we should be very slow at making reckless comments concerning certain matters.

Now to clarify my answer to your question a little better, legal issues concerning public domain can become very convoluted and my stand on the oil spill in the Gulf is quite clear. Any other questions?

DOWNTOWN HOUSTON AND THE RICE HOTEL

Margaret and I had a music festival to take care of in Palestine this past weekend. Actually we started the festival nine years ago. There was no time to write an article. Then Sunday was a day of rest. Now here it is Monday and we are in Houston. I spent the day doing my regularly scheduled tests at M.D. Anderson. Tomorrow I will see the doctor and find out how I am doing.

Since we are spending the night, we found a nice hotel in downtown Houston. This afternoon we went for a walk on Main Street and from that walk I discovered two interesting topics I would like to share. We were walking south on Main and when we got to Main and Texas I suddenly realized where we were. We were standing on the spot where the capitol building of the nation of Texas once stood. It was built by the Allen brothers in 1839. Later the capitol was moved to Waterloo which is now Austin. Eventually a hotel was built on the same spot. It was the Rice Hotel. I reminded Margaret that I stayed in the Rice in 1967. After spending the night, the next morning I was on a train for San Diego, California. That started my career in the United States Navy. Now as my mind wandered back in time, I started to imagine what all had occurred at the corner of Main and Texas, I realized that I was standing in a very important place, a place that was once the center of the government of a new nation. Then I came back to 2010 when I saw a homeless guy walk by and a couple of guys with oxygen and acetylene bottles. They couldn’t care less!

The other thing we noticed was when Margaret spotted a saying inscribed on the front of the old State National Bank located at 412 Main. The building appeared to have been built in the same time period as the others in the area – many were built in the 1880’s. This is the saying, “Frugality is the Mother of the Virtues.” Now think about that. Someone was so dedicated to being frugal that they wanted that written on the front of their new building. Shouldn’t that apply today?

SPIDER WEBS

In the book of Deuteronomy it is written: “Yet the Lord hath not given you an heart to perceive, and eyes to see, and ears to hear, unto this day.” The Israelites of the exodus and wilderness wanderings saw the physical, but did not comprehend the spiritual dimension of YHWH’s actions. Margaret and I were recently reminded of this truth in a little different way.

We live in the woods just north of Kennard. As we were driving out of our driveway early one morning we both commented on the spider webs that we noticed on the ground. At first our eyes only saw a few but as we commented on the few we suddenly realized there were hundreds and then thousands. To our amazement we eventually realized that the woods were full of the airy little structures. They were on the ground and low growing bushes. They were approximately 6 to 8 inches in diameter with an arched design in the center.

We have never witnessed this wonderful part of nature before. I would imagine that the spiders and their webs have been there all along but we didn’t have eyes to see. But on this day the conditions were right as moisture formed on the webs and picked up the light from the morning sun.

How often do we pass by a neighbor with a need and miss an opportunity to help. Or it could be our own child crying out for our love and attention. Thank God for those special times and events that open our eyes so we can see clearly.

I hope that I can remember the lesson that I learned from the spiders for a long time to come.

MUEHLEBACH BEER

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Muehlebach_Brewing_Company

This is the way I remember it several years ago in the Third Judicial District courtroom in Houston County. The Honorable R.W. Lawrence was presiding judge. I was the bailiff. I don’t remember who was representing the State. Donald J. Gordon was the District Attorney but since this was a change of venue hearing for an inmate at Eastham, the Special Prison Prosecutor’s Unit out of Huntsville may have been representing the State. Representing the Defendant was my friend, Attorney Eugene M. McElyea.

The Defendant was claiming that he could not receive a fair trial here in Houston County. I testified for the State and my position was that he could in fact receive a fair trial. I have witnessed many civil and criminal trials and I know that for the most part jurors take their job very seriously. Mr. McElyea testified for the Defense stating that the inmate could in no way receive a fair trial in Houston County.

Mr. McElyea had completed his testimony and was about to step down when Judge Lawrence stopped him. McElyea remained in the witness chair. The judge was to his right with the twelve jurors to his left. Also in the courtroom were various witnesses, inmates, attorneys, Eastham guards, law enforcement officers and other parties awaiting their cases to be heard.

In a slow deliberate move Judge Lawrence looked to his left and down at the witness chair where Mr. McElyea was seated. In his uniquely calm and distinguished voice Judge Lawrence began the questioning. “Mr. McElyea I believe that you testified earlier before this court that your name is Eugene M. McElyea. Is that correct?” “That is correct,” McElyea replied. “Well, Mr. McElyea,” the judge continued, “this court would like to know what the M. stands for.”

At this moment Mr. McElyea seized the moment. Everything was in place. There were many people in the courtroom and he had the chair. Being a story teller the conditions were perfect for him to take center stage with full permission from the court to go forward with a good yarn.

“Well Judge,” he began, “my mother’s family name was Muehlebach and they were from St. Louis.” Judge Lawrence did not interrupt as he was going to see this hand played to the end. “The Muehlebachs had a brewery there in St. Louis.” Mr. McElyea took a little time to explain the better points of taste and quality of the beer. “But then one day, Your Honor, the family decided to have the beer tested,” McElyea explained. He continued, “After a reasonable period of time the results came back and the report concluded that the horse had sugar diabetes.”

Judge Lawrence then excused Mr. McElyea from the witness stand and the inmate’s trial continued in Third Judicial District Court in Houston County.

DUTY, HONOR, COUNTRY

I recently learned that George Washington really didn’t want to be President of the United Stated. He did eventually accept the position out of duty. As General Douglas MacArthur gave his farewell speech to the West Point Military Academy his reoccurring line was “Duty, Honor and Country.” When a fire fighter enters a burning building, whether paid or volunteer, it is because of the sense of duty. When an employee strives to arrive at work on time it is probably because of duty.

Recently a run-off election was held for the position of Justice of the Peace in Houston County. I was reminded of a time several years ago when I ran for that office. I learned a lot about the political system during the campaign. There were some aspects of that process that I enjoyed and some I didn’t. I was the first candidate to submit my name for the race and I truly did it out of duty. Yes, I wanted the job but I also thought that I would be able to serve Houston County. Duty – when Jonah ran from God, he was running from his duty. When the signers of the Declaration of Independence met, it was out of duty. Many have suffered greatly because of fulfilling their duty. And yet, because of their duty a great nation was born. They were honoring their duty to God and to the freedom seeking people of North America.

I think that many of us are somewhat disappointed in a few of our State and National leaders. I am wondering if some of them understand duty. We should be hearing about what they are doing for our country and not hearing about their social lives.

I am probably repeating an old adage by saying that for many of you I am probably “preaching to the choir.” I believe that most of us in this country understand the word duty. And thanks to all of you who serve. And by the way, I lost that race for JP but a fine man became the Justice of the Peace and served our county well.

GLEN ROSE 2010

From week to week and day to day we are bombarded with negative information. It may come from national or local news or just from the office. Actually everything is not negative but I’m not telling you anything that you don’t already know. The Wright family has just returned from one of those places where we feel safe and everyone is having a good time.

Since 1995 we have attended a music festival in Glen Rose, Texas; you may recognize Glen Rose as the place where you can find the dinosaur footprints in the Paluxy River. The first year we attended the festival Hollis was 16 and Lloyd was 13. The festival is held in a campground so everyone is either in a motor home, travel trailer or tent. Then of course a few stay in nearby motels.

The event is very family oriented so children can move around the campground and everyone is a grandparent. Most campers are in lawn chairs around their camp sites. Just walking down the streets between the rows of RVs and tents can take a very long time since there are so many friends to stop and visit with along the way. If you have an instrument in your hand a jam session may just break out at any place or any time.

Let’s not forget the food. You will see burgers being cooked over a charcoal fire or a cobbler baking in a Dutch oven. Then you really hit the jackpot when you come upon folks having an ice cream party.

Workshops are held during the day on various musical instruments and a class is given on Sacred Harp singing as well. Everyone is welcome to sit in on a concert by a favorite musician since the stage starts at 9:00am and runs all day. A good lawn chair is an essential part of equipment for every person at the festival.

So the festival is like living in a town where you know everyone and all have a common interest. There is fellowship, entertainment, food and maybe even time for a short nap. There is no crime but if you don’t watch out someone may open your cooler if it was outside on the ground like ours. We opened it only to find a quart of milk and some of our favorite ice cream that someone placed there.

We don’t have time to watch TV so for a couple of days we don’t know anything about Washington D.C., Arizona, the Gulf, Iran, Iraq or Greece. It’s always hard to leave.

SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE

I started thinking about “separation of church and state” so I decided to look into it. I found out a couple of years ago that the phrase started with a letter from the Danbury Baptists to Thomas Jefferson. In my reading in the last couple of days I found out so much more. One thing that I have noticed is that because of widespread coupling of “separation of church and state” with the First Amendment, many Americans now believe that the phrase is part of the First Amendment. Read the First Amendment for yourself. Samuel Adams warned: “I mean . . . . to let you know how deeply I am impressed with a sense of the importance of Amendments, that the good people may clearly see the distinction – for there is a distinction – between the federal powers vested in Congress and the sovereign authority belonging to the several states, which the Palladium [protector] of the private and personal rights of the citizens.” (Yes, I had to look up Palladium. It was a statue of Pallas whose preservation was believed to ensure the safety of Troy.)

My search then led me to Everson v. Board of Education, a 1947 landmark decision of the U.S. Supreme Court which applied the religion clauses in the country’s Bill of Rights to state as well as federal law. Many believe the 1947 case was a complete legal cancellation of that Amendment.

So finally I am getting to the Danbury Baptists correspondence with to Jefferson. The letter was dated October 7, 1801. The following is a portion of that letter: “Our sentiments are uniformly on the side of religious liberty: that Religion is at all times and places a matter between God and individuals, that no man ought to suffer in name, person, or effects on account of his religious opinions, [and] that the legitimate power of civil government extends no further than to punish the man who works ill to his neighbor. But sir, our constitution of government is not specific. Our ancient charter, together with the laws made coincident therewith, were adapted as the basis of our government at the time of our revolution. And such has been our laws and usages, and such still are, [so] that Religion is considered as the first object of Legislation, and therefore what religious privileges we enjoy (as a minor part of the State) we enjoy as favors granted, and not as inalienable rights. And these favors we receive at the expense of such degrading acknowledgments, as are inconsistent with the rights of freemen. It is not to be wondered at therefore, if those who seek after power and gain, under the pretense of government and Religion, should reproach their fellow men, [or] should reproach their Chief Magistrate, as an enemy of religion, law, and good order, because he will not, dares not, assume the prerogative of Jehovah and make laws to govern the Kingdom of Christ.” Jefferson in part replied: “Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between man and his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship, that the legislative powers of government reach actions only, and not opinions, I contemplate with sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people which declared that their legislature would "make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof," thus building a wall of separation between Church and State. Adhering to this expression of the supreme will of the nation in behalf of the rights of conscience, I shall see with sincere satisfaction the progress of those sentiments which tend to restore to man all his natural rights, convinced he has no natural right in opposition to his social duties.” Natural rights? Well that led me down another pig trail.

The Stoics held that no one was a slave by their nature; slavery was an external condition juxtaposed to the internal freedom of the soul. Seneca the Younger wrote: “It is a mistake to imagine that slavery pervades a man's whole being; the better part of him is exempt from it: the body indeed is subjected and in the power of a master, but the mind is independent, and indeed is so free and wild, that it cannot be restrained even by this prison of the body, wherein it is confined.” But what did ol’ Seneca the Younger know. He was later caught up in a plot to kill Nero. He was condemned to death so he sat in a warm tub of water and cut his wrist.

So now do I know any more about “separation of church and state” or am I still just as confused? I guess the bottom line is, why can’t we all just resolve our issues right here in Houston County without Washington D.C. getting involved? I hope this encourages you to do some research on your own. If you discover anything, please email me.

WHITE ONE

I realize that last week’s article on separation of church and state was a bit convoluted. I guess that is my nature to dig a little deeper and see the unseen. Then there is another side to me. I am a story teller and my stories are factual rather than fiction. Well at least they are, for the most part, factual. Also my phlegmatic temperament allows me to find humor in many situations. So last night at our Sacred Harp Singing in Kennard someone suggested that I just tell you one of my stories this week.

This story happened several years ago when one weekend we were expecting to have many dulcimer players visit at our house in Kennard over the weekend. At about 10:30 that morning Margaret informed me that our refrigerator had gone out. I grabbed the phone book and looked up Knox Furniture in Crockett. After a couple of rings the phone was answered by a very nice person and I asked to speak to someone about a refrigerator. After a few moments I was greeted by, “Can I help you?” I told me man who I was and then began to explain my dilemma. I first asked if I could charge the refrigerator. Since I had purchased several items over the years and my credit was good I was told charging the item would not be a problem. Then I asked the big question, “Do you deliver?” There was a pause on the other end of the phone line. The man then revealed to me, “Well, Mr. Wright we close at noon.” (Maybe I should have told you that it was on a Saturday.) I replied, “It is now 11:00am, can’t you get out and back in an hour?” “But don’t you need to drive into Crockett and take a look at our many selections?” the man asked. My reply was, “Ain’t you got a white one?” Our guests were only interrupted by the delivery of the new “white” refrigerator and the hauling off of the old one. We had a great weekend.

SHERRON BENTON

I was waiting in my office when suddenly the door opened and Margaret invited her in. I was waiting for someone to meet me at my office for an interview. The room was instantly filled with smiles and color. You see, when you are in the presence of Sherron Benton things are going to be joyous with all smiles. In regard to color, today was no exception. Her hair was fixed and she wore a brightly colored blouse that would compete with the view through a kaleidoscope. Sherron’s nails were done just right and then there were the large colorful ear rings. You could say, “Ms. Benton is a colorful person in Kennard.”

She started off by saying, “God had been a Bridge Over Troubled Water” to her. Number 3 is her favorite number. In one sense it stands for her three boys and on the other hand it stands for the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Then again, it could stand for “live, love and laugh.” I think you are starting to understand the person named Sherron Benton. Now she has lived in Kennard all of her life and yet she has travelled through 35 states. Her ex-husband was a truck driver and they logged many miles on the road. Speaking of directions, Ms. Benton says, “I AM G.P.S.” Although she is well travelled she says, “There is no place like home.”

“Here comes Bling, Bling.” That is what the ladies in the salon say when Sherron walks in. Thursday is her day to drive to Lufkin and get the “works.” You see Sherron is very serious about having her nails and hair done. In fact, this being 4:00pm on Thursday, she was getting a little restless to get over there – couldn’t miss a thing like that. But, she did tell me how happy and honored she felt to do this interview.

Believe you me, Ms. Benton has an opinion on many things and she has advice to offer, especially when it comes to the “younger generation” as she says. The advice is, “Education you must have. Don’t settle for a 70 average when there is a 90 degree temperature beating you in the head.” “My motto is if you don’t stand for the right thing, you will fall short to anything.” A quote from Sherron Benton.

Continuing the interview, Sherron told me that her mother drove a Kennard school bus for 25 years. Her mother also once worked for Mrs. Vickers in Kennard. Just today Margaret and I closed the deal on the Vickers house.

Ms. Benton says she was married for 28 years but is now a single mother. She told me about her three sons. I could tell she was very proud. Archie Jr. and Jamieson are both in the military; both did tours in Iraq and Korea and one in Afghanistan. The third son is a student at Kennard School and as a proud mother would, she mentioned that he was on the 10^th grade Honor Roll.

She says that life is about choices. Her advice is to make the best of those choices. She told me that she had been on both sides of the track but then she decided to live for God. Now her blessings have “blossomed.” She smiles enormously when she talks about her grand children, family and friends. She continues by giving God the glory for her church and her New Hope Missionary Baptist Church family who are always by her side.

Our hearts were blessed as Margaret and I listened to Sherron Benton’s joyous, engaging and uplifting story. And finally a quote from Sherron, “I am so Happy Being Me!”

SIMMONS WRIGHT GENERAL STORE

We were heading to North Carolina and while travelling along I-59 we spotted a sign that said "Simmons-Wright General Store." The words were printed on a brown sign. We knew that a brown sign usually designates something historic or something of importance. We took the exit and headed for a little Mississippi town named Kewanee.

After a short drive down a narrow road we spotted the store on the left. You couldn't miss it; it had "old" written all over it. So we pulled into a small dirt parking lot next to the large, red brick building. There were old faded signs on the outside and in the front were items for sale, most of which seemed to be from my father and grandfather's time.

The screen door entrance took me back to my youth when I used to stay with my grandfather who owned and operated a small general store near San Augustine. I knew that. I was about to enter another world, a 'world of the past. Just opening that screen door was a treat. It came with the same squeaky sound that I remember from those long ago places in my mind.

My eyes tried to take in everything at once as I stepped inside. Of course I first noticed that distinctive smell of an old building with its fragrance old wood and aged inventory. There were several old glass display cases. I could see the candy counter and a set of
scales next to the hooped cheese. You may know the kind, bright yellow with a red wax covering. There was stuff everywhere. I looked around and didn't see another soul in the store.

I walked to the right and then spotted a man sitting in a rocking chair reading a newspaper. He sat next to a large wood stove. "Are you the proprietor?" I asked. "I am," was, his reply. I introduced myself as Jerry Wright. That immediately drew his attention and he adjusted his glasses and put the paper down. We then begin comparing notes to see if we could come up with any common relatives.

Then Margaret and I started walking around the store where there were so many things to look at. We found a box of Bon Ami, a bottle of Schafer's ink, old milk bottles and classic 78 records. There was also an old anvil, .cast iron wash pot and tools of every type, and this list barely scratches the surface.

After a while the subject of music came up and we eventually brought in our instruments and played a few tunes. More family members showed up and other customers dropped in. The owner's daughter then asked if we would like to stay for lunch. You know you are in the Beep South when lunch consists of fresh tomato sandwiches.

They wanted us to stay longer but we had to get. on the road and continue our trip to North Carolina. We knew that we needed to leave but we really wanted to stay because we had almost instantly connected with these folks. Just before we left we discovered that the owner and I were both storytellers. He told two and I told two. We had to force ourselves to leave. Otherwise we would have been
there the rest of the' day telling stories and playing music.

http://thesimmons-wrightcompany.com/

SYLVA, NORTH CAROLINA

This United States is a wonderful country and the home of many great people. During our recent travels we met upstanding, fine and interesting people time and time again. Our trip was basically music oriented, but along with that we saw some beautiful country. You see, Margaret and I travel to western North Carolina every year in search of music. To be exact, we are looking for the old mountain fiddle tunes. Finding those tunes is like searching for the end of the Internet.

During our travels a doctor from Columbia, South Carolina offered us his cabin in the mountains for a week. It was in the town of Dillsboro, North Carolina about 12 miles from the Blue Ridge Parkway. On another occasion while passing through Mississippi we stopped at the Simmons – Wright General Store. While we were having a little jam session there, a perfect stranger approached us and gave us her phone number and said she wished we would call and visit with her on our way back to Texas. So we did and became instant friends with a very lovely lady. She had also invited other friends over and we had a wonderful time playing music and telling stories.

While in Sylva, North Carolina, we met a man who when he was born was delivered by Ruth Bell Graham’s father. That doctor happened to be Billy Graham’s father-in-law. We later found ourselves playing in an antique store in Sylva and Marion, the owner, took us out to lunch. There are two restaurants in Sylva that are decorated with Marion’s antiques. We also met a friend and classmate of Andy Griffith there in Marion’s shop. (Look for this story in a later Wright Writes)

I came back to Texas with a prized old anvil purchased from Marion. I don’t call myself a blacksmith but I do beat on a little hot steel from time to time.

We attended the Wayne C. Henderson Guitar Festival at Grayson Highlands State Park in southern Virginia. Wayne is a good friend of ours and comes to the Palestine Old Time Music and Dulcimer Festival held in Palestine each March. Many of the great guitar pickers in the country are at the festival. We also got to spend some time with the man who made Margaret’s guitar.

I could go on, but the point here is this: This is a great country with its beautiful sights, smells and sounds. Standing at 6,000 feet in the Smoky Mountains is breathtaking. There are wonderful, generous and interesting folks all over country. America needs all of us to work to keep it together. Our founding fathers were inspired by the Creator and they knew what they were doing. The evil one is always in the midst and it is up to us and our children and grandchildren to keep this country that we so dearly love. Think about these things on the 4^th of July.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sylva,_North_Carolina

RETIRED HOUSTON POLICE OFFICER'S REUNION IN CROCKETT 2010

Margaret and I attended a reunion of Retired Houston Police Officers a couple of Saturdays ago. It was held at the Civic Center in Crockett. For the most part, our heads were either bald or white. There were a lot of hearing aids. But we were all with one thing in common: we had once patrolled the streets of Houston, Texas. Many of us moved on to various other departments and assignments as years passed but I am fairly certain that most, if not all, did some time in patrol.

I joined the department in 1972 and there were many men at the reunion that were with the department in the ‘50s. Some of the men were legends to me and it was interesting to see them in the setting of the cool lights of the Civic Center. If only half of the stories that I heard when I was a rookie were true, it would be the makings of a great TV show for AMC. I have heard the stories of various riots in the City. In one of the riots Carl Hampton was shot and killed by our officers. Another man was wounded in the incident and many of you, although you never met him, would know his name if I printed it here.

I heard stories of catching hijackers and burglars and I heard stories of interesting investigations. The streets of Houston have as many stories as there are people. These men and the few veteran women who were present worked before the age of hand held radios, computers in the cars or even at the station. I myself received one of six of the first in car computers in 1982.

Chief Hermann Short pinned on my badge the evening of my graduation ceremony. I remember it well. Our class graduation was held in the old Music Hall in downtown Houston. We weren’t allowed to have bullets in our revolvers until after our badge was pinned on. As soon as the graduation was over, I drove directly to Substation #5 off of Hempstead Hwy and went to work. After I spent a month there, I spent a little time at the Northeast Substation and the Beechnut Substation. Next I went to Central and it was there that I found a home. I spent the next ten years working the 11:00pm to 7:00am shift. My area covered the Fourth Ward, Montrose area, River Oaks and what later became known as Greenway Plaza. That stretch of the Southwest Freeway was ours and in the southwest corner we shared boundaries with the City of West University Place.

I, like so many other officer experienced tragic events during my years of service. My partner and I were the first officers on the scene when Officer Noel was killed while working an extra job at a joint at 316 N. Nagle. Noel was from Huntington just south of Lufkin, and graduated from Zavalla High School. I stood by an officer at the morgue who was killed at Art Wren’s Silver Dollar in about the 600 block of Montrose. Officer Spruill, a Vietnam veteran, was gunned down by three men as they carried on a conversation. A reckless driver ran over my friend, Officer F.E. Wright, as he directed traffic on the Southwest Freeway in August 1975. When Officer Harris was killed in 1982 another officer was shot. A sergeant contacted me by radio to meet him and go with him to the home of Officer Larry Trepagnier. We were to pick up his wife and take her to Ben Taub Hospital. Officer Trepagnier was seriously wounded but survived.

I was on the scene in 1972 after Dr. John Hill was murdered in his driveway in River Oaks. This incident and surrounding story were later described in Thomas Thompson’s novel, Blood and Money.

I was privileged to work in the Homicide Division my last ten years on the Department. There were many sad events, funny tales and rewarding times. These are just a few of my stories. Just imagine if you knew all of the stories of all of the officers who were in the Civic Center in Crockett a couple of Saturdays ago. And you must remember these are not just stories but things that actually happened. They were all wonderful people serving in extraordinary circumstances.

http://www.police-writers.com/nelson_zoch.html

THE FRONT PORCH OF 209 MAIN

Margaret and I recently purchased the Vickers’ house located at 209 Main in Kennard, Texas. We both instantly had the compelling urge to sit on the front porch of the old house. We knew Mabel and Jack Vickers back in the eighties. Mr. Jack was a veteran of WWI.

As we sat there on the porch for the first time I tried to imagine what it was like in the earlier days. I think maybe the street was not even paved and much narrower. I think that Mr. and Mrs. Vickers could sit out there in the summer and feel the ever so slight cool breeze coming from below the huge oaks and pecans. The conversation was probably concerning the latest news about someone’s new job or some activity at the church. I am sure a familiar face would drive or even walk by from time to time redirecting the subject at hand to something concerning the passerby or his/her family. This particular day could have been Sunday and the Vickers sat there on the porch after a morning in church and after a fine meal. Of course the dishes would have already been washed and put away.

I think they may have been able to hear children playing and running wildly around a neighbor’s house a street over. Then a car would pass and they both would turn to see who it could have been. Didn’t recognize the car, it must have been someone just passing through.

A familiar line reads, “One time Atticus said you never really knew a man until you stood in his shoes and walked around in them; just standin' on the Radley porch was enough. The summer that had begun so long ago had ended, and another summer had taken its place, and a fall, and Boo Radley had come out.”

Yes, summers have come and gone and sitting on the front porch of 209 Main makes us think of Mr. Jack and Mrs. Mabel Vickers.

If you have information concerning Mr. and Mrs. Vickers or the house at 209 Main, we would appreciate hearing from you. Call (936) 655-2945 or email pickinwright@yahoo.com Come by and sit a spell with us sometimes.

After reading the last edition of Wright Writes concerning the porch on the Vickers House, I received an email from a friend. He reminded me that things have a different perspective looking from the front porch than from a car looking at the house as they quickly pass by. In fact, I don’t believe that many even realize they are passing through a small town since they are traveling so fast.

My friend told me that he has attended many estate sales through the years and has observed emotionless people selling all the things that took someone a lifetime to collect. Many of the items for sale once had great value attached to them by the previous owner. Precious stories from special places in the heart are now being sold for pennies.

My friend pointed out to me that as we drive through the country we see so many old abandoned houses and businesses which have long since been discarded.

In some long ago time that place was a part of someone’s fondest hopes and dreams. Silence has replaced the happy excitement of the past.

Just today Margaret and I purchased a dining room set from an estate sale. I hope the previous owners would be pleased to know that the table where they sat for so many years with family and friends is going to the Vickers House at 209 Main. The usefulness of that table will live on as many of our dear friends will have meals and wonderful fellowship around it.

A few days ago we were coming back from a four day mountain dulcimer workshop when we made a rest stop. The place where we stopped sold ice cream. So what should we do? Yes, we got in line for the taste treat. There was a young girl in front of Margaret, maybe the age of an eleventh grader. The young girl asked, “Do you think they charge more for a cup?” Margaret assured her that the cup would not cost more than the cone. Then it was time for the girl to order. Out of her hands she placed the quarters, nickels, dimes and pennies on the counter. She asked the lady behind the counter if it was enough. The lady behind the counter stated that it was. Margaret quickly did the math and it didn’t seem to add up.

The young girl got her cup of ice cream and walked away. Margaret addressed the lady behind the counter and acknowledged that she knew the money did not add up. Margaret offered to pay the difference. The lady behind the counter replied, “Thanks but that is alright. All of the other girls on the team got ice cream and I didn’t want her to not have any.”

The ice cream was sweet but the act of kindness was sweeter.

Is it more than just a piece of cloth? In regard to a flag, just how deep do the symbolic roots go? On January 1, 1776, the Continental Army was under the leadership of George Washington. On that New Year's Day the Continental Army was laying siege to Boston. The city had been taken over by the British Army. Washington ordered a flag hoisted above his base at Prospect Hill. It had 13 alternate red and white stripes and the British Union Jack in the upper left-hand corner.

On April 4, 1818 President Monroe signed an Act which provided for 13 stripes and one star for each state, to be added to the flag on the 4th of July following the admission of each new state.

Joe Rosenthal took a historic photograph on February 23, 1945 of five Marines and a Navy Corpsman raising a U.S. Flag over the Pacific Island of Iwo Jima. It is recorded that Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal wanted to go ashore and witness the final stage of the fight for Mount Suribachi. A boat carried Secretary Forrestal and General Howlin’ Mad Smith to the shore of the island just after the flag went up. Everyone was looking up. Secretary Forrestal turned to the General and addressed him by his first name. “Holland, the raising of that flag on Suribachi means a Marine Corps for the next five hundred years."

The USS Arizona is no longer in commission yet as a special tribute to the ship and her lost crew, the United States flag flies from the flagpole, which is attached to the severed mainmast of the sunken battleship.

The U.S. flag is a symbol of our country. It invokes pride and emotion. It calls us to duty, not duty to the flag but duty to our country.

I read about a lady, a hospital supervisor, who displayed a three-by-five foot American flag in the office she shares with other supervisors. She did this just before the Memorial Day weekend. When she came to work on Friday she was told she would have to take it down. She learned that one of the other supervisors found it offensive. The person who was complaining had been in the United States for 14 years, having come here from another country.

The United States flag is our flag. Let’s always cherish it, fly it proudly, give it honor and defend it. Yes, it is just a symbolic piece of cloth yet it so impressed Secretary Forrestal and General Howlin’ Mad Smith on that momentous day in 1945.

The Times They are A-Changing

“Gather ‘round people where ever you roam and admit that the waters around you have grown. And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone if your time to you is worth savin’. Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone for the times they are a changing.” Those are the words of Bob Dylan in 1964. I listened to those words over and over when I was a teenager. We were a generation who sought after change and felt we held the key to make the world a better place. But at the same time the Vietnam war was going on. Even though I was a part of the 60s generation and felt a part of the philosophies, I was an East Texan with parents and friends. I was also a Christian with strong faith and beliefs. No, I never dreamed of going to Kathmandu. “If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair... If you're going to San Francisco, You're gonna meet some gentle people there.” Yes, I have a picture of me with a flower in my hair while I was in San Francisco in 1967. Flower Power was coined by Allen Ginsberg who had connections to the communist party so the whole thing was not a good thing. I just liked the flowers, pretty girls, long hair, bell bottom pants and the happy attitude. I did not participate in or accept the ideas of the hippie movement. I didn’t do the drugs, participate in demonstrations or ever wanted to live in a communal community. The hippies embraced this idea of flower power and started painting flowers on everything. During the Vietnam War protest, the hippies passed out flowers to the policemen, press and by-standers. I remember the girl placing a flower in the barrel of a National Guard soldier’s rifle. Larry Schweikart and Michael Allen call it “The Age of Upheaval.” It was an age of generational strife; the baby boomers were coming of age. We were part of a generation of “free love”, “tune in, turn on, and drop out” and rebellion. Yuri Gagarin of the USSR became the first human being to orbit the Earth and John, Bobby and Martin were all assassinated. Congress passed the Civil Rights Act. The EEOC was formed. We became a nation of welfare dependency.

I liked the music of that period even though I never quite understood the meaning of “Mellow Yellow.” Then I would substitute other girls that I knew for “Saffron.” I was mad about her and she was mad about me. “Ma Belle Ami” translates into “My beautiful female friend.” I didn’t understand it back then but I didn’t care – I just liked the way it sounded. I did wonder who exactly was “Uncle Albert” and why did the Beatles sing about “Admiral Halsey?” Jimi Hendrix sang of flying on giant dragonflies and Jim Morrison of the Doors saw himself as the “lizard king.” Pink Floyd, Jefferson Airplane and Iron Butterfly unashamedly wrote music for drug trips. Oh yes, it was indeed the “dawning of the age of Aquarius.”

This article is a continuation from last week. Even though I was part of that generation, I recognized the fact that a lot of the changes were supported by extreme thinking members of my age group and older. Yet in the end, I remained true to my faith, joined the Navy and continued on with a life with a sense of family, freedom, decency. I am glad I lived as a teenager during the 60s and yes, I do remember it. And yes, I am familiar with the subject about which I am writing. During the “summer of love” I was 19 and standing on the corner of Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco with a flower in my hair.

So you see, “change” is not just a current word and campaign slogan. But in reality just how much change do we really need. Generally when one speaks of change, that means one group will gain and one will lose something. Jerry Rubin was one of the leaders of the New Left Yippie movement. He recognized that the essence of the movement was to repel and alienate mainstream American society, setting up radicals as antiestablishment heroes who would have natural appeals to teens and college student seeking to break away from their parents.

Our group is surely making change now. Unfortunately those weirdos who smoked pot all day are now at the age of influence and hold positions of importance. Back then they were followers of socialism, Marx and others. Socialism promotes the idea that man does not need God. They think man is god.

Yes, I made it through the “dawning of the age of Aquarius.” I am a retired Houston Police Officer. I retired from the United States Navy Reserves, I teach a Sunday School Class in a Baptist Church and I didn’t vote for our current President. But guess what? I still listen to the music.

Our son, Hollis, is a full time volunteer at the Kennard School. Earlier in the summer we promised him we would take him to a popular water park in New Braunfels. Our little entourage grew when we invited our friend Bobby and our son and daughter-in-law’s two children. Well we left the park after a long day of splashing, dunking, sliding and bobbing. Since we stayed to the bitter end, we ended up in a line of cars leaving the park. I was driving and the car in front of me stopped so the intersection in front of them would remain open. We were all talking about the rides we had enjoyed when unconsciously I noticed a motorcycle ride up and stop at the stop sign on the cross street. Suddenly the unthinkable happened. I saw the driver of the motorcycle lean forward throttled up. The motorcycle leaped forward and right in front of a car traveling in the opposite direction from us. It was one of those sickening moments. I made an audible sound. Just for a fraction of a second time seemed to stop as I wished the scenario unfolding in front of me was not happening. But it was happening and in that brief period of time I heard the crash as the car struck the motorcycle. The motorcycle was knocked airborne and spinning down the street with pieces flying from it. Likewise the rider went airborne tumbling head over heels through the air about 10 to 12 feet above the ground. I heard Margaret scream. Then it got even worse. I saw the rider hit an electric pole while still in the air. After hitting the pole he immediately fell about 10 feet to the ground. He remained motionless. Margaret was pleading with me to do something – after all, I was the 33 year veteran police officer and I was supposed to know how to handle every situation. The only problem was I couldn’t get my seatbelt off. While I was fumbling with the latch, Bobby jumped out and went to the man’s aid. Then I was out – I ran to where the man was lying face down. I asked Bobby if the man was alive and he was. I then began assisting with the traffic that was starting to back up. The police were there within minutes and then the ambulance. After hanging around for 45 minutes or so and giving a statement to the officer I went back to my vehicle and we continued with our plans to go out for some supper. The attitude in our vehicle was sober. Bobby told us that the rider was conscience when the paramedics picked him up and he was saying that he did not know what happened to him. We discussed how quickly a life can be snuffed out. Just one bad judgment decision and life on this earth is over. As the Sergeant on the TV show “Hill Street Blues” said at the end of each roll call, “And let’s be careful out there.”

Sgt Philip Freemason Esterhaus

Wright Writes September 2, 2010

A friend of mine enticed me to join a certain social networking website about a year ago. Sometimes I refer to it as MyFace. Now I spend a lot of time on my computer with numerous applications but I refuse to spend more than a few minutes on this networking website. Right off the bat, several friends wanted me to get involved with things referred to as Mafia Wars and Farm Ville. That had absolutely no appeal to me. Then I started to see things show up on my computer screen and I was asked to participate in “Best Friend Quiz” and “What country singer tells your story?” I thought that was so ridiculous that I wouldn’t even investigate the matter. From time to time a few of my network “friends” started writing things like where they were going to be or if they had washed their car that day. Then some “friends” took it upon themselves to share with the world their “quote for the day.” One feature that I really like is the ability to find old and lost friends. I was reunited with several high school and military friends because of the website. I basically use the site to alert friends of upcoming music events, since that is where my interest lies.

Having said all that, there is one aspect that I did not foresee. The website gives everyone a platform upon which to voice their opinions and beliefs on politics, justice, religion and other such matters. This is fine as long as all of your friends are in one accord. Margaret and I have music friends all over the country from many various backgrounds. I am a Christian, lean more towards Republican than Democrat and am more conservative than not. Many of my friends in the music world are directly opposite. Of course I already knew this fact but only recently realized their true feelings. In fact, they “hate” people like us and I know this because that is the word they use. I am beginning to think that I am more liberal than a lot of my liberal friends since I don’t hate them for what they believe. I call them friends since I enjoy their company and enjoy playing music with them. I learned a long time ago not to read any stickers on their guitar cases or on their bumpers. Even though my beliefs are strong, I refrain from using bumper stickers and placing too much information on the Internet. I am not saying that you should not participate in expressing your opinions on social websites but just remember, what you write can be read by many others.

The New Jail September 9, 2010

The Houston County Sheriff’s Office is just months away from moving into their new offices and jail. I have not been in it but just driving past on South Fourth, I recognize it to be an impressive facility. I started working for Chief Gene Mericle and the Crockett Police Department in 1982 and the facility being used by the Sheriff’s Department at that time was still referred to as the “new jail.” The jail had previously been located on the top floor of the Courthouse. Later on I went to work for Sheriff Morris Minter and shared an office with another deputy. One day the dispatcher told me I had a phone call on line one. I answered the phone. The person on the other end identified himself and inquired as to whether a certain person was in jail. I immediately responded that the person he was inquiring about was not in jail. There was a pause, and then the man asked, “How did you determine that so fast?” “Because I know everyone back there,” was my answer. This time the pause was even longer. “What agency do you think you are calling” I asked. (You see by now I was starting to see the problem.) From time to time someone from another law enforcement agency would call the Houston County Sheriff’s Office believing they were calling the Houston Police Department or the Harris County Sheriff’s Office. The City of Houston is the County Seat of Harris County. The man in this case was looking for someone who had been arrested by the Houston Police Department. I informed him that we were in Crockett, Texas which is the county seat of Houston County. I then told him to call the Harris County Jail and gave him the number. After clarifying all of that, I believe he was relieved to know that I was not prankster and that I actually did know everyone in our jail at that time.

Years later, after retiring from the Houston Police Department, I once again went to work for the Houston County Sheriff’s Office in the even newer county offices and jail. This time I worked for Sheriff Darrel Bobbitt. And now everything will eventually be moved into the latest and newest offices and jail. I have an idea that I won’t know everyone in jail any longer, however I may know some of the grandchildren of inmates that I knew in the old, old jail. I wish that Morris was still around to see all of this new development.

The Houston County Courthouse

Sheriff Darrel Bobbitt

Burning of the Qur'an September 16, 2010

I recently read an article on the Internet concerning the burning of the Qur’an. There were several comments made in regard to the article. Here is one of the articles. Now I inserted Bible and U.S. Flag. Think about it for awhile. I’ll say no more – you can draw your own conclusions.

“Anyone who is for burning the (Qur'an) (Bible) (U.S. Flag) is a bigot who has not a single atom of decency or respect in their body. Only the lowliest human beings derive joy or find suitable desecrating or destroying a (holy book) (Bible) (nation’s flag). Even if you don't believe it is holy (sacred), over a billion other human beings do, so humble yourselves.”

Speed, speed, speed! September 23, 2010

I recently read in the Courier that the National Motorists Association published a list which deemed Houston to be the worst speed trap in Texas regardless of population. The posted speed limit in Kennard is systematically reduced from 70 at the city limits to 45 in the center of town. Most of the traffic regardless of whether it is a car, pick-up or eighteen-wheeler goes through Kennard without ever getting below 60. The only thing that slows the traffic down is the curve in town around Thomas’ Corner (for sale.) We own Kennard Auto at the intersection of Main (Hwy 7) and Broadway and are very much aware of the traffic going through town. You should see it when a person wants to turn left and has to stop for a vehicle travelling in the opposite direction. The 60 mph speeder almost always passes on the right of the stopped car. Travelling east they run up into the parking lot of the Post Office and motoring west they run through the parking area of Kennard Auto. Main Street (Hwy 7) was at one time, a little dirt road with an occasional vehicle coming through. Because of that, the buildings are close to the highway. Sometimes I have to watch out for traffic while standing on my own property. But possibly even worse than that, I recently attended a music festival and was almost run over by a fat guy on a golf cart. I hope that someday Kennard could beat out Houston for that number one spot.

Stafford Harris The Nacogdoches Waltz September 30, 2010

We collect and play old fiddle tunes. Every year we go to Western North Carolina, a hot bed of old tunes. A few years ago Margaret discovered a tune just over in the next county. This old tune was named The Nacogdoches Waltz. Margaret got the tune from Steve Hartz who owns the old mercantile in downtown Nacogdoches. Steve told Margaret that he had gotten the tune from Stafford Harris, a Southern Baptist preacher and old time music fiddler. We learned that Stafford was the last person living who knew the tune having learned the tune years ago from his grandfather. No one knew the origin.

So we began playing the Nacogdoches Waltz and even taught it to others folks. Then one day we had the privilege of meeting Mr. Harris. After playing the tune for him his reply was, “Well that’s real nice but that ain’t the way my grandfather did it.” Then he played it. Margaret was devastated when she immediately realized that Steve Hartz had left out some measures from the tune. After that day we quit playing the tune since we didn’t really know how it went.

Recently a friend from Hudson who often plays bass with us invited us to join him at a cemetery homecoming at Rocky Mount Baptist Church. Stafford was there. Margaret sat down with the old preacher and they discussed the Nacogdoches Waltz. Eventually Stafford got out his fiddle and played the tune and Margaret joined him on her mountain dulcimer. Margaret was careful to get the tune right, including the extra measures. She wrote the corrections out on a slip of paper. Stafford approved of the way she played the tune and signed and dated the paper showing the corrected notes. That was September 5, 2010. Stafford went home to be with the Lord on September 15, 2010. Being Christians, we believe meeting Stafford that day at the Rocky Mount Baptist Church to be a Divine appointment.

Lady and the Dulcimer October 7, 2010

We are on the road heading to Mt. Airy, NC where we will attend a music festival. You Andy Griffith fans know this town from the Andy Griffith Show; it is the “real” Mayberry. This will be short but you will get the point. Yesterday we left Bennington, OK where we attended another music festival. Here is the story. A lady and her husband showed up at the three day event. They had attended the previous year and had saved all year to purchase a new hammer dulcimer. This lady has some serious medical problems and moves about in a wheel chair. They arrived at the festival and got set up. They decided to drive back into town for ice and things. Then it happened; they developed car trouble. They had to spend the money they had saved for the hammer dulcimer to have their car repaired. So when they returned they had ice but no money for the instrument she wanted so badly. She was visibly upset when they returned. Their story traveled around the campground and throughout the festival. John, a hammer dulcimer builder from the Dallas area, heard of their plight. That evening at the concert John presented the lady with a new hammer dulcimer. A lot can be said but I believe you can fill in the remainder of this story. The second greatest commandment is like unto the first, “love thy neighbor as thy self.” Have a great day!

Life is kinda funny that way October 21, 2010

Life is kinda funny that way. We are wonderfully created and extremely complex. We are very social and yet each and individual. Our interests are as varied as there are grains of sand on a beach. Just think of all of the interests that we have and enjoy here in the United States in the Year of our Lord 2010. Of course there are the obvious ones like sports. Sports in this country is so important that reporting it requires a large part of any radio or television news cast. Following the report of a major earthquake or other serious disaster somewhere on our globe a story can be heard about an injury to a basketball player in Los Angeles . But in addition to sports there are many other varied and interesting pastimes. I recently met a man who travels to different states just to experience their best rollercoaster rides. Some folks make or collect things. Quilting enthusiasts enjoy getting together to work on one quilt. Then there are musicians. Let me rephrase that. Then there are folks who play music. But you can’t stop there. Take the guitar, for example. Just think how many ways there are to play the guitar. You can play country lead, old time back up, jazz, Flamenco, classical, folk and there is even a style for church praise and worship musicians. My family and I enjoy old time music which mainly comes from the Appalachian Mountains . Based on fiddle tunes it is a unique style with its own distinctive sound. It is often confused with Bluegrass but there is a world of difference between the two. The fiddle is played differently, the bass has a different importance, and the guitar has different licks. The banjo is played differently and it even made differently. So as we travel about, we are always looking for folks that play old time music. But it always happens; friends or family call us into a jam session where several various styles are represented. To me it is a total train wreck. Suddenly what you would think would be a good thing turns into a difficult situation which is less than satisfying. Chords are different, tunings are different. In Bluegrass the lead is passed around to each player who wants it. In old time everyone plays all the time. Our country seems much divided right now. Immigration is an issue as well as gay marriage. Health care is in the news and then there seems to always be an issue with our military being sent somewhere. Politics and even churches have differences as wide as our two shores. It looks like we should all be able to sit down and play a tune together but life is kinda funny that way.

CSS Hunley October 28, 2010

We were recently in Charleston, South Carolina and while we were there we decided to visit the CSS Hunley. She was the first combat submarine to sink an enemy warship. I first learned of the Hunley while in Submarine School in New London, Connecticut. The CSS Hunley sank on its first training mission with the loss of a total of five crew members. All eight of the crew lost their lives on a second training mission. Horace L. Hunley, who was not in the Navy but was the builder of the small submersible, also lost his life during the second failed attempt. On February 17, 1864 the CSS Hunley attacked and sank the USS Housatonic which was on Union blockade duty. After the successful attack, a prearranged signal from a blue carbide gas signal lantern on the Hunley was sighted at 9:00pm by soldiers at Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island. The submarine that made history that night never returned. Years later the sunken submarine was discovered and on August 8, 2000 the sub broke the surface for the first time in over 136 years. The Hunley was then transported to the Warren Lasch Conservation Center at the former Charleston Navy Yard. She rests in a specially designed tank of fresh water while research and conservation techniques are developed. All eight crew members were found at their posts. There is an interesting story that centers on a gold coin belonging to Lieutenant George E. Dixon. The coin was found where he was stationed on that fatal night in 1864.

As a young sailor in 1969 I was assigned to the USS Hunley AS-31, a submarine tender, stationed at the Naval Weapons Station on the Cooper River near Charleston, South Carolina.

Margaret, Hollis and I climbed the steps of the tank where the CSS Hunley now rests. At the moment I saw her down in that clear, fresh water I almost gasped and my eyes became watery. It was an awesome sight.

17th President November 4, 2010

Andrew Johnson succeeded to the presidency after Abraham Lincoln’s assassination. Uneducated, politically shrewd, Johnson was fatally unable to adapt to new political realities. He had a disastrous term as the 17^th President of the United States.

When Andrew was six years old his mother gave him to J. Selby’s Taylor Shop as an apprentice. Though deprived of schooling and books, young Andrew had a zest for learning. Public-spirited citizens of Raleigh, NC heard of Andrew and would come to the tailor shop to read to him. Dr. William Hill was one of the readers. The book from which Hill read was called The American Speaker. The book contained speeches of famous statesmen. When Andrew was fifteen he fled the tailor shop and eventually ended up in Greeneville in East Tennessee.

Andrew worked hard at his trade, but he did not neglect his education, reading every book he could find, generally works on politics and oratory. He acquired knowledge of some of the famous legends of antiquity, stories he tended to use over and over again. In 1834 the Greeneville Board of Aldermen chose Johnson to join them. The tailor from Greeneville eventually became their Mayor. There was no doubt that Johnson revered the Democratic president, Tennessee’s Old Hero Andrew Jackson, but almost immediately after taking his seat he joined with fellow legislators to elect Hugh Lawson White to the U.S. Senate, although White was not the Democratic candidate. He would also support White against Martin Van Buren in 1836.

Johnson opposed the printing of a school bill, compensation for state solicitors, and even the payment of money to defray the expenses of the legislative session.

Johnson purchased slaves and had as many as eight or nine. Johnson never sold a slave and yet he thought them to be a people whose natural inclination was toward dependency.

Johnson’s thoughts turned toward a congressional career. His election to the U.S. House of Representatives was the next step for the aspiring politician who had served in both houses of the state legislature. He introduced resolutions to reduce the number of clerks employed by the government. When an explosion occurred on the USS Princeton, maiming or killing several passengers, including the Secretary of State and Secretary of the Navy, he voted against compensation for the victims. Johnson was super patriotic. At a time when the annexation of Texas was one of the most controversial questions facing the nation, he was certain that the Lone Star State must be acquired and join the Union – “our glorious sisterhood of States,” as he phrased it.

While a veteran congressman from Tennessee, Johnson continued to be aware of unnecessary federal spending. He opposed the government’s purchase of George Washington’s Farewell Address; he opposed the salary of the chief clerk of the Department of the Interior and fought against federal assistance for the search for the vanished Franklin expedition to the Arctic. Johnson continued his crusade for economy in the winter session of 1850-51. Johnson sought to make sure that all federal employees actually worked the required eight hours a day.

On October 17, 1853 Andrew Johnson was sworn in as Governor of the State of Tennessee. Then eventually he was elected the U.S. Senator from Tennessee.

In 1864 Johnson replaced Hannibal Hamlin as Lincoln's running mate. He was elected vice president of the United States and was inaugurated March 4, 1865. Johnson was a Democrat and Lincoln was a Republican.

Johnson succeeded to the presidency upon Lincoln's assassination and on the morning after President Lincoln died, Johnson was sworn in as President of the United States by the newly appointed Chief Justice Salmon P. Chase.

Johnson notified Congress that he had removed Edwin Stanton as Secretary of War and was replacing him in the interim with Adjutant-General Lorenzo Thomas. This move was in violation of the Tenure of Office Act. The Senate and House entered into debate over the act. Thomas attempted to move into the war office, for which Stanton had Thomas arrested. Three days after Stanton's removal, the House impeached Johnson for intentionally violating the Tenure of Office Act.

Johnson was sympathetic toward the South, especially when actions taken against the Southern states were clearly unconstitutional. He vetoed many bills. The South thought of him as a traitor and the North didn’t like him. Many today say that Johnson was the worst president as of today. I rather liked him, however. Perhaps we need a man like Johnson today. My information is taken from my visit to Johnson’s birth place, a personally guided tour by a ranger with the National Park Service and a book written by Han L. Trefousse.