It Is Good To Be Home

Thank you George Walker Bush for your service to our country. From day one the barbarians were at your gate attacking you as illegitimate and saying the Supreme Court made you President not the people. You always did what you thought was right for America and foreign policy-wise you were perfect. Drilling Saddam and the Taliban and sending Osama into a cave. Fuck the world was your attitude, you thought about America first regardless of whatever the world might think and liberals here too for that matter. On the domestic financial front 52 straight months of growth then the housing bubble burst and the MBS market became worthless sending some banks into default and out of business. Not your fault but with an election looming and a messiah running you shouldered the blame or at least had it dropped on you by the liberal media. Don't worry Dubya we know that Dodd and Frank and Acorn and all the everyone is equal crowd is to blame for this. It would not be fair to leave out Katrina again not your fault clearly. Hey stupid, lazy assholes when a hurricane that was projected to be that big and destructive is coming and the city you live is below sea level GET THE FUCK OUT! Honestly if all of that city's inhabitants who did not evacuate were lost who would have missed them? The bailouts W were and are a huge mistake life would have sucked for awhile but you tried for a quick fix so you did not go out with as bad an economy as Hoover. Soon that bubble will burst and we will have to pay for it and you gave 44 the option of piling on the debt which he will do happily and whole-hearted to grow the government.

George there are not many politicians that I tolerate let alone like but there is your never wavering ability to ignore they naysayers and stay positive that I do admire. I always root for the underdog and when all the liberal media outlets are not only against you but tell lies about you and openly disdain you. They gave air time for those who would bash everything you did and push their own anti-America agendas. Anchors and whole shows were used just to bash you not only as a president but as a man, husband and father. Through all of this you keep your head held high and carried on doing the right thing for America. You are the definition of grace and classiness as your homecoming speech showed. You also used words that have meaning as when you said you governed with character and conscience, and optimism and strength 44 will govern by opinion polls. You stated it was an honor to be Commander in Chief, a liberal would never say something like that. Mr Bush I can assure you the honor was ours. Your Presidency reminds me of Teddy Roosevelt strong foreign policy and liberal domestic agenda. Keep America strong in the world Teddy's "Big Stick." So today, you lucky bastard, you get to wake up in the great state (republic) of Texas and when you look in the mirror understand that we are out here and we thank you for loving America like we do. Thank you for your service and enjoy your retirement all our best to Laura and the girls.

When Its More Than A Game

I may over emphasize the importance of football upon the American landscape at times, I know. To me there is nothing better than watching college football on Saturday afternoon and nights. Lets face it at least in college the kids are still playing the game for pride and fun and not for a paycheck. Anything can happen in a college game because the people playing are just kids and not men they will do stupid things and make stupid mistakes and enthusiasm can carry momentum a lot longer into a game. In short, for the most part, the game is still a game and is still fun. But not this game, this game is different, this game marks the end of football careers which is always a sad day, but it also marks the end of childhood when the gun sounds these seniors become men plain and simple. I am speaking of course about the Army/Navy Game. When the gun sounds at the end of the game these kids leave a lot behind and finish up their studies and begin standing watch over the safety of the nation. We are literally privileged to watch these kids end their childhoods, and in these times, get ready for war.

So Army and Navy both have new uniforms for today's game Army in fatigue pants and helmets and navy in throwback jerseys and I like both. There is one problem though, The Navy jerseys are blank where this name should be and the Army says "DUTY.HONOR. COUNTRY." I get why in the team concept and no one is bigger than the team and that the name on the front is way more important than the one on the back. But I think America needs to know and see their names. Too many of our armed forces fight in anonymity, I say let America at least know who these guys are and not because they can play football but because the are going to be defending our liberty to watch the SEC title game later and the Giants tomorrow and on Monday when we will argue who really should be in the BCS title game. These kids will give this gift to us at least let us know who they are. What other game shows shots of soldiers and marines all over the world watching a game in the dead of night cheering "GO Navy. Beat Army" or vice-versa? Just one that I know of, The Super Bowl. Football means a lot to Americans and when you are so far from home I guess it means a whole lot more. These kids they are not going to the NFL this is their last gridiron day of glory. This is not the SEC or Big 12 where the victors later today will be hailed as conquering heroes. These kids play their hearts out for the love, sure they are not as big or as Strong, or as fast as what we will see later but there are way more important overtones to this game. Great football it is not, great kids with and even greater purpose to their lives; absolutely.

When you watch the Army/Navy game understand that these kids could have gone to any Ivy league school and cruised through four years and become investment bankers and asshole lawyers. These kids have a higher sense of worth of self than just money. These kids are really something special, I guess all those that serve are really something special. So as this 108th meeting between these team draws to a close I hope you will take time to reflect on the men and women who keep us safe. It does not matter whether you fly and N* flag and cheer Go Navy. Beat Army. With Honor, Courage and Commitment. Or you believe in Duty. Honor. Country, and cheer go Army. Beat Navy. I salute you all and you are in my prayers and of course; THANK YOU from an appreciative nation.

A Birthday Wish of Thanks

We all know in the upcoming administration (if you believe the polls) America will not be the number one priority. But let us here who truly care about America take a minute to say thanks to our fine men and women in the Marines. Today is the 25th anniversary of the Beirut Marine barracks bombing. 241 marines and Naval Corpsmen died. That does not matter to way too many Americans but it means something to me and to you to if you are reading this blog. 233 years old and still standing guard over America thank you to each and everyone of you who have served and are serving from a grateful nation.


The Marines' Hymn:

From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli,
We fight our country's battles in the air, on land and sea.
First to fight for right and freedom, and to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine.

Our Flag's unfurled to every breeze from dawn to setting sun.
We have fought in every clime and place, where we could take a gun.
In the snow of far off northern lands and in sunny tropic scenes,
You will find us always on the job, the United States Marines.

Here's health to you and to our Corps, which we are proud to serve.
In many a strife we've fought for life and never lost our nerve.
If the Army and the Navy ever look on heaven's scenes,
they will find the streets are guarded by United States Marines.


The Marines' Prayer:

Almighty Father, whose command is over all and whose love never fails, make me aware of Thy presence and obedient to Thy will. Keep me true to my best self, guarding me against dishonesty in purpose in deed and helping me to live so that I can face my fellow Marines, my loved ones and Thee without shame or fear. Protect my family. Give me the will to do the work of a Marine and to accept my share of responsibilities with vigor and enthusiasm. Grant me the courage to be proficient in my daily performance. Keep me loyal and faithful to my superiors and to the duties my country and the Marine Corps have entrusted to me. Make me considerate of those committed to my leadership. Help me to wear my uniform with dignity, and let it remind me daily of the traditions which I must uphold. If I am inclined to doubt; steady my faith; if I am tempted, make me strong to resist; if I should miss the mark, give me courage to try again. Guide me with the light of truth and grant me wisdom by which I may understand the answer to my prayer. Amen.

September 11...The Real America

Not mine. There will be no politics here today.
Thank you Sergeant David K. Cooper may you rest in peace. May God bless you and your family.

Sergeant David K. Cooper was mortally wounded by small arms fire while on dismounted patrol in Qadasiyah, Iraq. He died of these wounds in Baghdad on 27 August, 2008.

On Sunday, 7 September, Sergeant Cooper was laid to rest in Jellico, Tennessee, following funeral services in nearby Williamsburg, Kentucky.
The Patriot Guard attended the services and provided escort from the funeral home to the cemetery at the family’s request.

I am not a regular member of the Patriot Guard. I am a resident of Williamsburg, however, and asked permission from the Ride Captain to stand with the Guard and to ride escort, both of which were granted. We arrived at the funeral home shortly after noon and established a flag line (riders holding 3 x 5 American flags on staves) on the perimeter of the funeral home parking lot, facing the area reserved for the threatened protest by the Westboro Church cultists. I wasn’t at the airport when Sergeant Cooper’s casket arrived on Thursday, but I am told that four of these horrible people did show up there.

There was little traffic in downtown Williamsburg on a Sunday afternoon; the churchgoers had already headed home by the time we deployed, and most folks were about getting their Sunday dinners. We stood vigil until the funeral party had arrived and the service got under way, shortly after 2:00 p.m. It was very hot and muggy, very uncomfortable.
Keep that in mind; it will become apparent why I tell you this.

Once the service finished and we had paid our respects to Sergeant Cooper and his family, we formed another flag line around the rear of the funeral home and the hearse. This is done in case there are any protesters who want to disrupt the ceremony or hurl curses at the family of the deceased. It is the Patriot Guards’ desire to interpose themselves between the family and those who have no respect for the dead, that instead of seeing hatred and vitriol, they will see respectful flag-bearers. We were fortunate that no incidents occurred during the service. With this complete, we stowed flags and mounted up to escort Sergeant Cooper to the cemetery in Jellico, some fifteen miles away, right about 3:30 p.m.

We couldn’t see Main Street from where we staged the bikes or from either of the flag lines. As we turned on to Main I felt a surge of anger.

Williamsburg, like a lot of small towns, holds a Fall Festival—here it is called “Old Fashioned Trade Days.” They close off Main Street, put up a lot of canopied booths and display their quilts and pickles, raffle off a shotgun or two, and fill up on carnival food. Trade Days began on
4 September and ran through Sunday. When we turned on to Main, there were the canopies, there were the people. I thought to myself, “Aw dammit! Can’t these people show some respect?!”

And then I saw that they weren’t looking at quilts or buying Polish sausages. They lined the streets four and five deep, almost all of them holding American flags or signs expressing their gratitude to Sergeant Cooper or their condolences for his family. There was no festival atmosphere in the crowd, no jaunty waving of flags, no rah-rah momentary patriotism.

This was a community bidding farewell to one of their own sons.

We rode on through downtown and crossed the tracks and climbed the hill that runs parallel to the University of the Cumberlands campus. The crowd had grown thinner as we got close to the tracks, but only because there aren’t many good places to stand right there. As we approached campus the numbers picked back up again, students and townies standing together to honor a fallen soldier. There were no student protesters.
We rode between packed sidewalks up to the traffic light by the high school, turned left and proceeded to link up to Kentucky Highway 92.
The crowd thinned out at this point; only the occasional house owner stood in his yard or on his porch as we passed. We turned on to Highway 92, then on to US Highway 25W, the old main road from Williamsburg to Jellico.

Another huge crowd of mourners greeted us as we reached this corner, packed into the parking lot of the Dollar General Store and the Save-a-Lot grocery and the car dealership. A Fire Department ladder truck (from the nearby town of Corbin, I think) was parked there, ladder extended and flying a flag the size of a pickup truck. We rode between packed crowds for the better part of a mile before getting out of Williamsburg.

But at each little community between Williamsburg and Jellico there was another solemn crowd. Each volunteer fire department we passed had their engine run out, their flag at half mast, and their volunteers turned out and rendering honors as we passed. Every little crossroads had a knot of mourners standing vigil. In some places it was a single individual or single family, solemnly holding a flag and standing to honor Sergeant Cooper.

As we crossed into Tennessee we ran into packed sidewalks again, thousands of people lined up to pay their respects as the hearse passed.
We escorted the graveside party through town and up to the high and lonesome cemetery where, with a guard of honor from the Whitley County Junior ROTC program, a funeral detail of Army Regulars, and full military ceremony, Sergeant David K. Cooper was returned to the native soil from which he had sprung 25 years earlier.

I was honored to be allowed to pay my respects and stand vigil over this young man. I was touched by the quiet dignity with which his family endured the services and laid their son and brother to rest. But my heart was both broken and mended by the public display of respect and shared grief that attended Sergeant Cooper’s funeral. I wept the entire fifteen miles to Jellico.

It was hot Sunday. It was muggy in the way that only the American Southeast can produce. The service itself ran long at the funeral home.
These people who lined the streets and the highway stood in that heat for a couple of hours, all for the brief moment in which they could pay their respect to the family as the funeral procession passed by.

And there were thousands of them. Williamsburg is a town of perhaps 1,500 people. Jellico is about the same size. Yet there were literally thousands of people turned out to honor this young man.

And they were sincere. David K. Cooper was not a Medal of Honor winner, nor a distinguished general with decades in uniform, nor a veteran who had returned to his home town and spent years in public service. He wasn’t a celebrity. He was just one of us.

Just. One. Of. Us.

And so we honored his passing. Even if we had never met him in life, we wept the tears as if we were laying our own blood and our own bone to rest. We stood in solemn review as he passed by. We felt the grief in a young life ended, but that grief was tempered with the fierce pride in a young life not wasted.

To those who think America has lost its way, you should have been there; you would have seen the soul of a people reaching out to hold those who grieve.

To those who think America has lost its heart, you should have been there; you would have seen the beating heart of the nation pulsing deep and true.

I thought about trying to make some political points here, to cast a few aspersions, to wag a few fingers at people and groups that I happen to oppose in the body politic. But as I typed the final two sentences it struck me that should I do so, I would be no better than they.

Rest in Peace, Sergeant Cooper.