Today, May 27, 2013, we celebrate Memorial Day. I am moved to ponder who really celebrates, and what are we celebrating. Are we celebrating a day off our workweek? Are we heading to the beach or mountains or lakes to enjoy time with our families? Are we firing up the grills for hot dogs, hamburgers, steaks, roasted corn on the cob, or other concoctions we’ve come up with through the years? Is this a day, or a few hours, to spend with our loved ones? If so, perhaps we should all take a moment to remember why we can do these things. As has been stated before by men and women much smarter than me, there is a cost to the freedoms we enjoy. Sure it cost money to maintain a strong military, but few of us remember monetary amounts. The most memorable cost is the lives of our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends.

According to Wikipedia, Memorial Day is a federal holiday which occurs every year on the final Monday of May.Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces.Formerly known as Decoration Day, it originated after the Civil War to commemorate the Union and Confederate soldiers who died in the Civil War. By the 20th century, Memorial Day had been extended to honor all Americans who have died while in the military service.

We as a nation celebrate Memorial Day. But do we as individuals remember the men and women who gave their lives? Do we know anything about them?

The next time you’re out shopping at a grocery store or department store, take a moment to look at the elderly men and women who are slumped over their carts, pushing them slowly through aisles. Ask yourself, “I wonder if they were in a war? I wonder how many friends or relatives they lost? I wonder if they remember them on this day?

We can celebrate the dead, and we should. However, we cannot say “Thank You” to the dead, except as we speak to them in our thoughts. And perhaps that is the essence of the purpose of Memorial Day. We can display the flags and put flowers on graves, and we should.

But today is also a day of remembrance of the sacrifices made so we can have our cookouts and visits to beaches and family gatherings.

Take a moment to remember those who gave their all, for they deserve our thanks.

Also take a moment to hug those who are still with us, and tell them thanks for their service. And if you have it in you, ask those who are still living to share stories of those they knew who aren’t with us any more. Listen, ask questions, and learn. You might be surprised at what you hear, and someday you can pass those stories on to your sons and daughters.

As you see the flags waving or wade into lapping waves or enjoy the hot dog or hamburger, take a moment to remember. And somewhere in your thoughts and words, say “Thank You.”

Until next time, Ready or Not.

A friend of mine, Tommie Lyn, (You should go to her website, buy her books, and read them. A very talented writer and Lady.) posted the following on her Facebook page:

“Posterity! You will never know how much it cost the present Generation to preserve your Freedom! I hope you will make good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven, that I ever took half the Pains to preserve it.” ― John Adams

Reading this seems appropriate in light of recent headlines. The rioting in Sweden by Muslims that turned out to be a well coordinated attack. The death of a soldier in England. There are others, I’m sure, but I will not mention them. You, however, should pay attention to what is happening around you … and that means everywhere. Have we so soon forgotten 9/11?

I remember when my world consisted of the village I grew up in, my playmates in the village, and the school and church I attended. It was a big deal to drive 20 miles to get groceries. Then I grew up … or thought I had. I know I was old enough to serve my country. I didn’t want to go to Viet Nam, but I would have. I joined the Navy and made three cruises in the Mediterranean, along the way sailing the coasts of Israel, Egypt, and Libya. Even then there were rocket attacks and fighting, though the U.S. news agencies concentrated on Viet Nam.

I served with men and women who chose to take the oath instead of heading for Canada and other countries. I raised my hand and said the words. As I recall the early years I smile when I remember the men and women who touched my life, and, I hope, whose lives I touched. Lane Howell from Texas. Ken White from New Jersey. Ray Miotke from Montana. Four guys from different parts of the country who became friends and shared common goals and interests. There were many others, including some of the girls I went to school with who became nurses and served in Viet Nam. (I hope to tell their stories in a future column.) Somewhere during the final 6 months of my enlistment, I decided to stay in for 6 more years. Some stayed in, others didn’t. But we all served.

The second time I took the oath, I listened to the words as I repeated them.

I, Richard Larry Ready, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.

I repeated the oath twice more after that. I made a career in the Navy. Others I knew didn’t, but they served. When I looked at the flag, I realized it was the symbol of freedom, and no other country on Earth has the freedoms we have. I saluted the flag with pride. I still do.

I have had many discussions with others about the oath. Please note we swore to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I did not swear to support and defend those who would tear our country down. I swore to obey orders … as long as they were according to regulations. All regulations support defense of our Constitution … not individuals.

We, as Americans, need to take an in-depth look at the people we send to represent us. Are they in fact representing us? If so, why are our rights eroding? Why are the rights of illegals more important? Why is it when we speak out against an individual or a group we put ourselves in danger of being arrested for a hate crime? Why can individuals or groups speak out against us and it not be a hate crime? Are there two sets of rules? Has political correctness become the norm? Would our Founding Fathers have been silent?

We need to wake up and speak out. Are we facing an evil that is trying to destroy us? Remember the words of Edmund Burke:

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”

We, you and me, must let our voices be heard. We must be united in keeping America safe from all enemies, both foreign and domestic. We live in a republic, and our rights are guaranteed. Or are they?

Whatever we let slip away might never be returned to us. Look at the quote from John Adams again.

Wake up, America.

What is your opinion?

Until next time, Ready or Not.

According to Wikipedia, the modern holiday of Mother’s Day was first celebrated in 1908 when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia. She then began a campaign to make “Mother’s Day” a recognized holiday in the United States. Today, May 12, 2013, we celebrate our mothers.

My mother passed away in 2000. I was in McLean, VA on a business trip when I got the call around 4 a.m., Monday, November 20.  I had seen my mother on the Friday before I flew out on Sunday morning. My sister, Gayle, called me and told me Mom had passed away. She had died in the Emergency Room of a hospital. She had not been feeling well during the day and my sister took her to the ER in the late afternoon. My mother had been an RN for many years, and like many who work in the medical profession, she never wanted to be a patient. As I was told, Mom was hooked up to machines monitoring her vital signs. Then she had a heart attack and passed away. In the ER. With plenty of medical professionals around. Nothing could have prevented it. Mom was gone. She was 74, and had died one week before her 75th birthday.

I remember getting on a plane at Dulles around 8 a.m. to fly back to Pensacola. I remember arriving, getting in my car, and driving to my sister’s house. I remember hugging my sister. I remember driving to Huntington,WV to bury Mom. I remember seeing Mom in her coffin. I remember asking the funeral home staff to close the coffin because I didn’t want to remember her like that. I remember a lady at the funeral coming up to me and saying she had played in the high school band with my mother. I never knew my mother played a musical instrument. Turns out she played the clarinet. In the midst of the sadness I wondered what other things did I not know about my mother’s life, and now would never know. I remember driving back. And life went on. The sun kept coming up. Bills kept coming in. And the years passed.

Each year I think of my Mom, and not only on Mother’s Day. There are thousands of questions I would like to ask her. I thought I would always have the time to do so. I always tried to call her on Mother’s Day if I could not be with her. I tried to get her a card, a gift, some flowers, or take her out to eat.

Now I wonder why I had to wait for a special day called Mother’s Day to show her I loved her.

For those of you who still have your mothers, look at her hands, touch her hands, hold her hands, and think of how much those hands have done for you. Look at the wrinkles on her face, and know you are the reason for some of them. Touch her face with love, and kiss the lined cheeks that touched your own cheeks with love. Look into her eyes and see the love a mother has for her child, and let her see the love a child has for his or her mother. Put your arms around her and let her feel the love you have for her. Hold her close, like you never want to let her go. These actions are more powerful than spoken words.

Before she had you, she had a life. What was she like? What did she do for fun? What were her favorite things? Ask your questions now. Someday you might want to tell your own children about her.

The time will come when you will not be able to hug her and tell her you love her. All you will have are the memories, and you cannot hug or kiss memories. Don’t wait for one day out of the year to show your mother you love her.

Still, I have to say the words, though she’s been gone for almost 13 years. I love you, Mom, and I miss you, but most of all, thank you for being my mother.

Once again I express my opinions about a variety of subjects. This post concerns 1) the Boston bombing (subtext: religion) and 2) political correctness (which deserves its own post an possibly more than one).

The Boston bombing comes to our living rooms in full color thanks to most TV stations. As a society we are attracted to gruesome sights, like car accidents,train wrecks, and explosions. We are appalled at the carnage yet somewhere inside we say, “Thank God that wasn’t me or mine.” But in that carnage are the family members of others. Sometimes we know them, most times we don’t. For those who explore further, the most underlying and unanswered question of all is “Why?”

The news media informs us the two young men responsible are practicing Muslims. Those who believe this is a religion of peace need refuse to accept what is, and has been, happening around the world. If you want to make up your own mind, which you should, then become informed. Read the Koran. If you are not a believer you are an infidel.If you are an infidel, then what happens to you is the will of Allah,including your death and the death of your loved ones. Wake up, people! Freedom of religion is guaranteed by our Constitution, but world domination by one religion is unacceptable … and dangerous. Speak up! I blame the bombers, not the bombs, just like I blame the shooters, not he guns. And don’t give me that,  “We’ll control who has guns and what type they have and then everyone will be safer.” Criminals and dictators don’t abide by the rules.

When did we lose touch with reality and allow political correctness to rule our speech and actions. We are so afraid our words might offend somebody or a group of somebodies we keep our mouths closed. We smile outside while on the inside we seethe. We don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings. They might cry. Worse, they might sue us. So let’s give a trophy to everyone for participating in life. For those of us who work for a living, let’s give some of what we’ve earned to those who don’t. I believe in helping my fellow man, but to whom, when, and how much should be my choice, not the choice of my government representatives. (And Government Representatives is a subject for another post.) It’s time to speak up without fear of hurting somebody’s feelings. As a country, we used to do that. Our Founding Fathers saw fit to ensure we could. Subsequent generations fought wars to keep our freedoms. Many of us older Americans realize and cherish the gifts we have been given. However, I see a new generation that is lost and floundering and trying to discover how to survive. Or worse, depending on others to take care of them.

Are there dark days ahead? Think about what’s happening around you. Open your eyes and ears. See the events unfolding. Hear the diatribes against America. See the disintegration of our society. Speak and act. We can change it.

Until next time, Ready or Not.

I spent my formative years growing up in an Alabama Power Company village. Village No. 2 at the Gorgas steam plant to be exact. To be fair, there are those who would suggest I didn’t “form” very well. However, I will point out I am still here and voicing my opinions. I would like to say, concerning me and my growing up years, my dad did NOT say, “It takes a village to raise an idiot.” I think that was started by Bonita Lollar, Flossie and Donna Burks, Deborah Estes, and my sister Gayle. Of course, it might have been perpetuated by Laura Jane Morrow, Rickey Henson, Susan Jackson, Brenda Cook, and Hollace and Jan Hyche. The only things I knew about them were 1) they were girls,and 2) don’t turn your back on them. For those who want to know the truth, don’t believe a word they say about me. Just believe what I say. Apparently, I am the only one who remembers those years with clarity.

Moving on. In hindsight I value my time in the village and my time at Martin High School. The boys in my village included Lynn and Brother Charlie Long, Bubba Lollar, and DeWayne and David Estes. Through the years, others came and went, both boys and girls. The one constant in the village was the mother and father on every family that lived there became parents to all of us. We were watched over and protected. At the time I thought they were nosy and sometimes mean. Though it’s years too late, I want to thank all of them.

Like all kids we tested our boundaries. Yet living in a village where we had numerous sets of parents we learned certain behaviors were unacceptable and carried consequences. As I look back with the memories of how it really was, not to be confused with those who make up their own versions, I realize how fortunate we were. Courtesy and respect were mandatory. If we acted contrary to acceptable social norms we would be brought to task by any parent in the village. Then we would answer for it again when we got home. I’m pretty sure that is considered “double jeopardy” and is illegal, yet such was life in the village. We were raised by the Greatest Generation, and by today’s standards some of the lessons we learned might be considered harsh. Yet we survived, and we thrived. We incorporated our own values and principles into the ones we were taught. We became our own individuals. Yet we started with a strong foundation. Though many of our parents are gone now we surely owe them a debt for what they truly gave to us. (If one or both of your parents are alive, give them a hug and say “Thank you.”)

As I look around today I find many of our young people to be angry, or disenfranchised, or self-absorbed, and I wonder how and when did the change take place. I offer my opinion that many of today’s young people are missing the foundation we had. Where is the guidance and direction? Where is the personal responsibility for one’s actions and decisions? When did many in our society come to the belief they are owed something by the rest of us?

As my dad, the World War II Marine, said when I graduated from high school, “I love you and want the best for you, but you will have to earn what you get. Never expect others to provide for you and your family. That’s your job. You are responsible for your decisions and your actions. Understand this, son, I don’t owe you a damn thing, and neither does anyone else.”

Of course times have changed. Our economy is such it takes both parents working to make ends meet. We are humans and, though we are all products of our environment, we adapt to the times we live in. Still, the foundation must be there. That will never change.

‘Til next time, Ready or Not.

Have been thinking of writing a blog for about a year. I have many friends and acquaintances who are quite opinionated, and I hope to share mine and theirs with you. Also, I write short stories, fiction stories, and plays. I will provide links to them. I will be introducing you to a few authors who e-publish and that you might find interesting. I look forward to a continuing dialog. Until next time, Ready or Not!

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