People involved in religion recognize sacred rituals, defined as something exclusively devoted to a deity or to some religious ceremony or use; holy; consecrated.
All religious movements incorporate sacred ritual into their worship life. In Judaism the study of the Torah is probably the most sacred of religious practices and The Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca, is the most sacred ritual in the life of a Muslim. For Roman Catholics Mass is at the top of the list rightly so because the adherents believe they are receiving the body and blood of Jesus in the partaking of the bread and wine. Protestants also elevate Communion or The Lord’s Supper as a sacred ritual. Protestants disagree on where Jesus is during the sacrament but still recognize The Savior as central to what they are doing.
No adherents of these religions would desecrate the most sacred rituals of their faith. These rituals are above messing with which would diminish the power of the sacred activity. The sacred rituals are elevated above the ordinary religious political struggles. During the rituals all the disparate parts of the faith community come together as one in the presence of The Holy during the sacred ritual. These spiritual moments are sacrosanct and free of the usual human conflict. Some things are just too important to diminish by human selfishness. Action taken against the most sacred is simply unforgivable.
There are a few sacred rituals practiced by nations as well. In the United States we practice one sacred ritual that encompasses all Americans. The sacred ritual I am thinking of here is the way we honor our military members who have made the ultimate sacrifice. When we experience a moment during a sporting event where a military member is introduced, and the gathered crowd stands and gives a heartfelt ovation we are engaged in our nations sacred ritual. In that moment we are not giving honor to that individual warrior so much as we are showing our appreciation for all those who have put on the uniform of this country. In that moment we are not honoring that individual because they are standing before us so much as we are giving thanks that they did not return home in a flag draped metal box. This is a sacred ritual practiced by the country of The United States. This moment is above partisan divides and makes us all one in that spiritual exercise.
The dignified transfer at Dover AFB of the thirteen military members killed in Afghanistan last week is a most visible example of our sacred ritual as a country. This moment is above our usual human conflicts. This most sacred of American practices is elevated beyond everything else we are experiencing. This is a time of oneness as a nation while we honor the ultimate sacrifice rendered by our American youth. This sacred ritual cannot be diminished by petty individual and partisan blaspheming.
A parent might be forgiven for crying out in their grief over the death of their child when they blame a leader for the death of their daughter or son. In grief a parent may forget the painful truth for a moment that their loved one volunteered to go into harm’s way with the real possibility that they might pay the ultimate price. Also, forgotten in grief is the sad fact that mistakes and misjudgments by leaders often result in the death of the soldiers, sailors, and marines under fire. We can forgive a parent who diminishes the sacredness of the sacred ritual in the pain of their grief.
There is no forgiving politicians, pundits and other public figures who take a sacred ritual and desecrate it with egotistical self-interest. There is no forgiveness for those who publish false information about the process of honoring the dead by the country’s leadership. There is no forgiveness for those who do not honor the sacrifice by becoming one with each other to mourn the loss of America’s best resource, our young men, and women. There is no forgiveness for those who divert our attention from the sacred ritual honoring the human sacrifice willingly made by America’s men and women in uniform. There is no forgiveness for ones who would diminish the sacrifice with personal grievances instead of gratitude for lives given.
There is no sacrifice greater than giving your life for others and that sacrifice deserves a united country giving honor during our country’s most sacred ritual. Nothing less.
During the1850s an outbreak of malaria brought Dr. J.D. Starke and a group of slaves to the north side of an open pine wooded lake that provided clear air and clean water to avoid further malaria contamination. Over time as the village grew it took the name Starke Lake. The lake in the middle of Ocoee is still called Starke Lake. After the American Civil War Confederate soldiers and their families began settling in the area. Captain Bluford Sims received a land grant for a 74-acre parcel to the west of Starke Lake in what is now the downtown portion of Ocoee on October 5, 1883.Three years later in 1886 the town was named Ocoee.
The church pictured here was built in 1891 and the Withers-Maguire House built in Queen Anne style architecture was constructed in the late 1880s. Both buildings are located on Bluford Ave. within the original land grant acreage. We tried to visit the house but learned we had to make a reservation in advance to get inside.
Thirty-four years later the town had grown to a population of 815 residents. The 1920 census says 255 residents were black and 560 were white residents (Other sources claim approximately 500 residents were black). The daughter of a prominent white Ocoee official shared with a researcher nearly 50 years later that “90 percent of all law enforcement officers, judges, public servants and lawyers in Winter Garden (nearby town) and Ocoee were Klan members.” The town was ripe for a horrific racial incident.
The day the racial tension came to a head and Ocoee became infamous was November 2, 1920.
On Election Day 1920, after months of voter registration drives by various black organizations a prosperous African American farmer named Moses Norman tried to vote in Ocoee. Election Day came three weeks after the KKK warned the African American community that “not a single Negro would be permitted to vote.” He was turned away. He tried again and was turned away again by the election officials.
Sometime later a white mob surrounded the home of Julius “July” Perry, a prominent black businessman who had helped broker land deals and arrange work for people, where Norman was thought to have taken refuge. Julius fought off the whites trying to break into his house killing two and wounding another before the white mob got reinforcements from Orlando and Orange County.
The mob proceeded to kill every Black person they could find. Most estimates agree that 30-35 Black people were killed on that Election Day. African American-owned buildings and residences were burned to the ground in northern Ocoee. The mob killed Perry and hung his body from a lamppost in Orlando as a message to the Black community. The KKK was right about who would not vote on November 2, 1920, in Ocoee, Florida.
The massacre has been described as the “single bloodiest day in modern American political history”. After that terrible day the Black population was nearly eliminated. I wonder how many members of that historic church on Bluford Ave. participated in that bloody day?
From the 1930s into the 1970s, not a single Black person lived in the city. Few would even go near it as the eerie silence permeated the entire region. For more than 40 years, Ocoee remained an all-white sundown town (community in which negroes could not stay after dark). Finally in 2018, ninety-eight years later, the city commission issued a proclamation formally acknowledging the massacre and declaring that Ocoee is no longer a sundown town.
June 21, 2019, a historical marker honoring July Perry and others killed in the massacre was placed in Heritage Square outside the Orange County Regional History Center.
Standing along the shore of Starke Lake I pondered how much hate is required to kill a neighbor. I cannot get there even in my most angry moment. I also tried to imagine the fear every black person in Ocoee felt that day. I cannot get there either. I tried to imagine how people who committed those atrocious acts could live with themselves. No way can I get that deep into hate. I wonder how it is that black citizens keep trying to gain an equal footing with the white folk in their communities. I don’t know if I would have that kind of persistence against such huge odds. I wonder when the white population will finally join hands with non-white brothers and sisters to make this nation the one we claim it can be.
The two of us felt an eerie silence in Ocoee that must have been similar to the one black visitors had experienced during the forty years between 1940 and 1970. The community’s attempt to address its past is commendable. Recognizing the community’s violent racist past is a necessary first step in reaching a resolution to racial hatred. This recognition is more than most communities with violent racist pasts have accomplished. I sense there is still plenty of work to be done before this town can live and breath again. The property of black residents was sold after the massacre with no records being kept of the transactions. There are no records of the deaths, except the two white men, from that day. These crimes against humanity still need to be addressed in a positive way for healing to finally come to Ocoee. The peace pole located in the veterans memorial near the Withers-Maguire House may be more wishful thinking then actuality in the town. I hope the citizens of Ocoee continue the healing process until the community is free of its horrific past.
Listening to the outrage at the images of Kabul Airport has me thinking. Some of the outrage is simply political gamesmanship. Much of that noise comes from those who helped put us in Afghanistan, made it more difficut to bring Afgan refugees into our country, or until last month, were clamoring for the withdrawal of our troops.
Other voices are those concerned, rightly so, for the humanitarian disaster that has begun to smother the country and destroy lives.
Some voices are frightened for the Americans and Afghan allies who may be trapped in country with little hope for escape. This too is a valid concern and breaks my heart.
Other voices are those who had loved ones killed or maimed during the twenty-year war. Their voices are the most painful and mirror the Vietnam War survivor voices.
I am not about to defend the State Department and Department of Defense egress from this troublesome country. I have my own questions about the withdrawal. When the State Department was telling Americans to get out, I was thinking we need to be moving much faster. Currently, I condemn the need to do the paperwork in Afghanistan when it could be done more securely at the other end of the flight in a safe country. Today (August 22), there could be a continuous line of aircraft landing empty and taking off filled with evacuees around the clock. If someone sneaks through, they can be sent back on one of the empty planes. But the military and State Department are bureaucracies. Bureaucracies by their very nature are slow and ponderous institutions. On the ground the situation is fluid and often rapidly fluid. The disparity in speed is a continual struggle for the folks on the ground. So, no, I am not defending the process. My hope, instead, is to shed a little light on how an ugly situation like this one happens.
Military planning is always a delicate process. As hard as the military leaders try to account for every contingency, they can’t. Examples: The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the bridge too far at Arnhem and the Battle of the Bulge, any Pacific Island invasion during WWII. Then there was the debacle at The Bay of Pigs in Cuba and the deaths of Navy Seals in Grenada. Of course, the evacuation of Saigon to which Kabul is being compared, is an obvious planning debacle. It is not possible to account for every contingency in a military operation. It is almost humorous listening to pundits assault the spokespersons from the departments of State and Defense as if the pundits would have planned better. Come on folks, everyone can be a great Monday morning quarterback.
Let me share with you three egress plans involving myself during my twenty-two years in uniform to help us all understand the difficulty of removing a huge gaggle of personnel from a given place.
We were finishing an exercise at Pope Air Force Base in Fayetteville, North Carolina when my Chaplain Assistant and I arrived at the departure point void of aircraft. This was not good. We wandered around and stumbled upon eight or nine firefighters who also had been abandoned. Someone had lost count of how many personnel were supposed to be evacuated from the field. Fortunately for us we tracked down a C-130 not involved in the exercise that flew us to Little Rock, Arkansas. Once at Little Rock my assistant and I tracked down a C-141 headed for Norton AFB, San Bernardino, California and home. We got left in an egress and we were not in a foreign country. We were left and there was no armed angry enemy pushing against us. The plan was good, but something went wrong.
Then there was the time I had my second ride on a C-130. I was deployed to Guantanamo, Cuba on a humanitarian mission involving Haitian refugees. From the moment my assistant and I arrived in Guantanamo we were drawing down. Daily Coast Guard Cutters packed, like the photos of planes leaving Kabul, departed for Port-O-Prince. Our contingent of military personnel continued to diminish. My assistant and I helped tear down razor wire enclosures and take down tents as the various ‘camps’ became deserted. One day the two of us found our way over to the terminal in search of a flight off the island. We were lucky to catch a ride on a Coast Guard C-130. We had time to return to our shelter, pack, get orders together and return for the flight to Coast Guard Air Station-Miami at Opa-locka, Florida. I’m still not certain where that is. After waiting around anxiously for most of a day I (my assistant was a sailor who found his own way home) hitched a ride to the civilian airport in time for the last flight to Denver. In Denver I rented a car for the trip to Cheyenne and home. There was a plan, but something was missing in the egress part of the process. We were left to figure out how to get home on our own and we were not being threatened by a terrorist enemy.
Then there was the deployment to Kuwait. I believe the original plan was for my assistant (Holli) and I to be in Ali-Al-Salem for a duration of four months. Six months later we returned to Minot AFB, North Dakota and home. This deployment was somewhat different than the others as we were not deployed as one unit. Holli and I were the only folks at Ali-Al-Salem from Minot. The rest of the personnel were in similar situations. As our time to return to The States approached Holli and I began receiving messages foretelling of delays in our departure in much the same manner as many others assigned to Kuwait. Any number of obstacles arose delaying our return to The States. Lack of personnel available for deployment, illnesses, diverted assignments, and multiple taskings where just a few of the delays. We were left behind and this was not a deployment of a huge force and thousands of civilians. There were plans in place but something went wrong.
Is the situation in Kabul a scary mess? Definitely! Is it something that could have been avoided? Maybe! The situation did not look this way before the Taliban began to reclaim Afghanistan. On the other side the plan was a good one, but something went wrong.
My hope moving forward is that we ramp up the pace of evacuations. We can use helicopters and any available fixed wing aircraft to get people out now and ask questions later. My hope moving forward is that we do not make the mistake of providing minimum cover to get everyone out of the country. My hope is that we send an entire wing of fighter planes and squadrons of Marine and Army choppers for close ground support while deploying cruise missiles from the Navy to cover the last of our troops departure. Taliban forces pressing the airport hopefully will receive incoming fire so intense they cannot survive. At the same time all American aircraft in Taliban hands needs to be put out of action. I hope that is how we leave with all our people intact.
That’s my plan. But things can go wrong no matter how good a plan we have.
My siblings and I share a running joke about our father. This was the man who hid in closets and whistled down the laundry chute when we were alone in the basement to scare us. He is the guy who went into entertainment mode after dinner with stories and practical jokes. Dad was the one sitting at the table with a pig nose on or squeezing a bulb attached to another bulb under our plate that would bounce. He was the one who would lift the table with his knees and move it surreptitiously startling us unsuspecting children. This is the man our mother remembered as dignified. The running joke with my siblings crops up in conversation when looking at old photos. “Oh yeah, Dad was so dignified.”
Well, in our house we strive to maintain the same dignity my Dad practiced while I was growing up. The latest example of our dignified gatherings took place around a dessert of S’mores. The marshmallows were heated in the oven instead of over a fire and they were hot. When the graham crackers surrounded the chocolate and marshmallow it almost instantly became chocolate syrup. I noticed the chocolate all over the youngest grandchild and snapped some photos.
This is a good time to mention that the middle grandchild was off engaged in a dignified activity of an unknown nature.
We all began talking about the chocolate mess when the ten-year-old wiped some of his chocolate on my arm.
Now, I was busy eating my s’more which required two hands, so I continued eating. The ten-year-old wiped more chocolate on my person. That is about when the giggling started.
The more he giggled the more chocolate appeared on me and the more he giggled. His giggle was contagious, and I think all the adults were at least grinning.
I remained dignified while finishing off my dessert. I was however, taking stock of loose chocolate within easy reach. I took the last bite of my s’more and licked my fingers before pouncing as quick as a cat on the giggling grandson. The resistance was futile and short lived as Joshua’s face quickly looked like he had just visited Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. (Alexa: Play Theme from Willie Wonka ‘Pure Imagination’)
The giggling did not stop. After my victory, the two of us visited the bathroom where we each took a sink to wash the chocolate off our bodies. As the bathroom was rapidly looking like a room in Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Josh exclaimed between giggles, “I knew it was coming back on me”. But, of course! Putting our shirts directly into the washing machine is probably the most dignified thing we accomplished that evening.
If the grail is a state of mind we might have grabbed hold of it for a few minutes during the ‘Great S’mores Caper’.
There might have to be rules the next time we have S’mores for dessert to maintain the dignity of our household.
A few republican leaders at the state level have begun to break lock step with the party due to the increase in COVID cases and deaths in their state. It is only a crack in the lemming advance, but it is noteworthy.
Kay Ivey, Alabama’s governor, retorted in reply to the question “What is it going to take to get people to get shots in arms?” retorted, “I don’t know — you tell me. Folks are supposed to have common sense. But it’s time to start blaming the unvaccinated folks, not the regular folks. It’s the unvaccinated folks that are letting us down.”
Doug Ducey of Arizona still will not require masks in public but has said, “Today, thanks to the miracle of modern science, we have something we didn’t have last year: a vaccine.” He also said, “Please get the vaccine. We have made it clear from the very beginning that we will never mandate the vaccine, and we’ve taken action to prevent vaccine passports or mandates.”
Florida’s Ron DeSantis who inexplicably has signed a law prohibiting local municipalities from passing mandatory mask restrictions, admitted this week “Vaccines are saving lives. They are reducing mortality.”
The following quotes have been copied from a New York Daily News article by Tim Balk:
“It never occurred to me after three highly effective vaccines were developed in under a year that we’d have difficulty getting Americans to take the shots, but that’s obviously where we are,” said McConnell, a 79-year-old polio survivor.
Other top Republicans have supported the vaccines; for example, Sen. John Cornyn (R-Texas) said that vaccine skepticism is built on conspiracy theories. Sen. Mitt Romney (R-Utah) has called the politicization of the shots “moronic.” In December, Sen. John Barasso (R-Wyo.) wrote an op-ed in The Casper Star-Tribune titled: “Take the coronavirus vaccine for you, your family and friends.”
In New York, the chairman of the State Republican Party, Nick Langworthy, got vaccinated, as did his family. A party spokesperson, Jessica Proud, said in an email that Langworthy believes that the vaccine is “a life-saving miracle.”
“He strongly urges everyone to get it, but ultimately it’s a personal responsibility and that anyone with concerns should speak with their doctor or health care provider,” Proud wrote. “That has been his consistent message from day one.”
A significant moment arrived on Sunday, when the powerful Rep. Steve Scalise (R-La.) relinquished his reluctance to vaccination, receiving a Pfizer shot. “With the delta variant becoming a lot more aggressive and seeing another spike, it was a good time to do it,” Scalise told The Advocate/The Times-Picayune. “When you talk to people who run hospitals, in New Orleans or other states, 90% of people in hospital with delta variant have not been vaccinated. That’s another signal the vaccine works.”
Sean Hannity, a potent conservative voice who has downplayed the virus, said on his Fox News program on Monday that “enough people have died.” “It absolutely makes sense for many Americans to get vaccinated,” he told his viewers. “I believe in science. I believe in the science of vaccination.” “These shots need to get in everybody’s arm as rapidly as possible,” he said, “or we’re going to be back in a situation in the fall that we don’t yearn for that we went through last year.”
Tim Blake’s article lifts up these GOP members who have shifted their rhetoric in support of science and truth. They are about to learn how difficult it will be to convince ‘the party of lies’ that vaccines save lives, maybe even their own. These leaders are also about to learn just how difficult it is to break the lock step demanded by the demented leader of their party.
I hope these few GOP leaders can convince a few more leaders to break out and embrace the truth that vaccines can reduce the death toll.
Maybe truth can regain some influence in the party that has forsaken truth and facts in order to build a new fascist party out of the ashes of the once honorable republican party.
The Screaming Gator Zipline has been calling me for several weeks and I finally caved.
Stepping out on this adventure caused a major internal struggle for me before I climbed into the car. This pandemic has had an intense impact on my emotional wellbeing as I mentioned last time. The ‘forced’ immobility during the pandemic became the normal for me somewhere along the journey. I realized how strong the ‘stay at home anchor’ had a hold on me the closer the time to leave for Gatorland approached. Fortunately, I had already paid the reservation fee for the event which helped me overcome the inertia. But until I started the car and backed out of the garage the outcome was still in doubt. Leading up to the departure I was concerned about COVID-19 of course. We are making progress against the virus (This blog was written before the ‘Delta’ surge.) but still too many folks are not taking the risk seriously. (Upon arrival I learned that Gatorland had no mask requirement.)
Due to our national stupidity over gun safety it seems no one is safe anywhere from someone shooting up a crowd of people which frightens me as well. I didn’t want to be one of the shot up people. Then there were concerns about my physical ability. My planter fasciitis seemed to be returning. That could make walking difficult. Suddenly, my shin felt like the old shin splints were back. That could be painful. And, I had to climb five flights of stairs on this adventure. What if I could not make it up those steps? I did not want to be a problem person at the zipline. The mind is an amazing and contrary organ. I won the mental battle and turned the car key, shifted into reverse and headed for Gatorland.
Before I knew it I had crossed into Orange County and arrived at the ‘Old Florida’ attraction, Gatorland. Florida is an interesting state with its tourist industry divided, I am guessing unofficially, as ‘New Florida’ and ‘Old Florida’ also known, in some quarters, as ‘Fake Florida’ and ‘Real Florida’. James D. Wright tells us in his book ‘A Florida State of Mind’, “Old Florida could be tacky but at least it was real. New Florida has proven a far bigger draw, but everything is fake: fake bears at the Country Bear Jamboree, fake fish at the 20,000 Leagues under the Sea Submarine Voyage (a Disney attraction that was closed in 1994), fake cowboys at Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede (closed in 2008), fake knights at Medieval Times, even a fake Crucifixion at the Holy Land Experience.”
Florida is dotted with many attractions that have been around since railroads first brought visitors to the state in the nineteenth century. These attractions are considered ‘Old Florida’. In the nineteen seventies some guy named Walt Disney opened a theme park straddling Orange and Osceola Counties which ushered in a flood of attractions collectively known as ‘New Florida’.
Gatorland was established in 1949 by Owen Godwin making it the same age as yours truly and is a terrific example of ‘Old Florida’ tourism.
Management even tries to keep a ‘Cracker’ kind of atmosphere from the television ads to the signage around the park. I love the humor.
The sign to the right reads: Historical Marker. On this exact spot in the afternoon of April 27, 1968 a marital argument was won by the husband. The sign on the left reads: Murder Site. On this exact spot in the afternoon of April 27, 1968 a husband paid dearly for his short lived victory. The smaller sign reads: Disclaimer. If you don’t ‘get’ these signs then you’ve obviously never been married.
The staff continues to project the ‘Cracker’ image through their interactions with the guests. One of the ‘handlers’ for my group experiencing the zipline was a Marine (there is no such thing as a former Marine) who exclaimed, “We don’t have to be smart. We work at Gatorland.” (The staff members are intelligent and exceptionally good at what they do.) Another aside was, “We try not to kill anyone because that would be bad for business.” I apologize for not remembering this guy’s name because we developed a fun relationship during our time together and I wish his name was in my memory banks. We had a connection as veterans, of course, but there was more. He was stationed at Twenty-Nine Palms, California. I expressed my condolences to him because I spent a year there one week on a training exercise. He enjoyed the assignment but the call to return home to central Florida brought him back to the Winter Haven area to put down roots. At the end of the zipline after I zipped through the racecourse portion with no opposition, he ‘caught’ me and stated, “It’s too bad you lost.” Of course, I whined, “I thought I won.” He mused that I would have to figure out which one of me was correct.
James was the other handler. Pausing for photos at the beginning of the adventure I was the only one on my own. So, wanting to be on good terms with the guys hooking us up I asked him to be my friend.
He likes his job and was a good friend alternating with The Marine hooking me up or ‘catching’ me. He has family in Miami, and we discussed how the city is sinking into the ocean. I suggested he buy some land in Central Florida so he will have beach front property in a decade or two. Well, it may not be beach front, but Central Florida will be much closer to the ocean if we do not do something now to change the direction we are going with the climate.
Before we donned our helmet and harness a young couple next to me inquired if I had ever done this before. Turns out the three of us were rookies. So, of course we got acquainted, and oh my life is funny. They were from Gettysburg, PA. My Jane and I lived in Adams County about seventeen miles east of Gettysburg in East Berlin for nine years. And the girl was attending classes at Millersville University where my brother and my spouse attended. We talked about the apple festival in the fall near Biglerville and Arendtsville which made me hungry for a slice of apple pie with a scoop of ice cream.
The rest of our group was a family including a tiny daughter (six or seven or eight years old) who was having a good time even in her uncertainty. On her first zip she screamed in joy the entire way to the other tower.
Its hard to believe looking at the photos that I was traveling over twenty miles and hour on the zip line. We learned much from our ‘handlers’ during the adventure. Some of what we learned might have been true. It was hard to tell because the guys slipped in and out of fact and fiction seamlessly. I had a great time listening to their babble.
I remember a conversation where we discovered, “There are three girl gators to every one male gator and the males still fight over the girls.” One of our handlers exclaimed, “I wouldn’t do that. I’d pick a girl and go somewhere.” Or something like that. The repartee was unscripted which was very refreshing.
The walk across the swinging bridge was, how do I say, exciting? Half way across I realized I hadn’t taken my eyes off the bridge planks. So, I looked up to see where I was. I quickly returned to watching where my feet were planting. I was attached to a safety line but I didn’t want to be the legendary old guy who ended up hanging from his safety strap half way across the swinging bridge. Here is a photo from ground level of the swinging bridge.
The Screaming Gator Zip Line experience was the best from beginning to end and I hope you give the place a try when you are in the Orlando area.
Remember, I said this was an ‘Old Florida’ attraction. Well, I believe the zip line is Gatorland’s nod to ‘New Florida’. However, even with this ‘New Florida’ addition to the park it maintains the ‘Old Florida’ feel and blends into the natural environment. I loved the adventure.
The rest of Gatorland is also worth the trip. The main concourse is covered keeping the sun from melting the guests while they explore the gators, snakes and birds housed on the property.
The eating area is a screen enclosed pavilion which would be beneficial if the Florida bugs were present. I did not run into any of Florida’s insects on this expedition.
The cooling park at one end of the concourse was filled with ‘young un’s’ splashing in the water enjoying the wet play on a ninety degree day.
I stopped by the Breeding Pond partly because it was in the 1984 movie Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and partly hoping to see some action.
During my brief stop at the Breeding Pond it looked exactly like the Lurking Pond. Darn! I also held out some hope of finding the ‘Fisher King’ near the water. He did not show, however. Maybe he became a gator snack.
I enjoyed the pretend swamp town around the Leucistic Alligators
and Albino Alligators
which was adjacent to the real swamp at the Headwaters of the Everglades. I remained alert walking through the actual swamp for the appearance of actual swamp creatures. But there was only one close encounter.
Just kidding.
If you are looking for a job I imagine there are openings for the gator feeders on a frequent basis. Now, those staff members may not be intelligent. (Alexa: Play, ‘Amos Moses’ by Jerry Reed)
Gatorland is not just an attraction. The company rescues gators that would otherwise become belts, wallets, or a serving of gator bites. Wait a minute. Come to think of it gator bites are on the menu and the gift shop sells wallets and belts. Hmm! I bought a bottle of Swamp Juice during my stop in the gift shop. Might have to drink it with an order of gator bites. Could not pass up that humor.
And yes, writing on the wall as you leave the park exclaims, ‘See ya later alligator’. You have to love this place.
We can gouge and dig all the minerals we can find out of the earth with no regard for the devastation we are causing. Nature eventually will win.
We can dump plastic, Styrofoam, and other non-degradable trash into the earth’s waters with little regard for the damage we are doing to the ecosystem. Nature eventually will win.
We can spew tons of carbon into the atmosphere with no regard for how much we denigrate the quality of our air. Nature eventually will win.
We can clear cut millions of acres of forest with no regard to the destruction we are inflicting. Nature eventually will win.
We can dump toxic fertilizers into the rivers and streams with no regard for the consequences. Nature eventually will win.
“A code red for humanity…global heating is affecting every region on Earth, with many of the changes becoming irreversible.” UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres responding to a report from the United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). Nature is winning.
We can continue our destructive assault on the environment until the planet can no longer support humans and the last one dies. Nature will win!
“The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web he does to himself.” Chief Seattle (Si’ahl)
Following a year of staying at home it has become difficult for me to leave the friendly confines of our house and actually ‘Hit it’. I have ideas for adventures but when the time comes to put those ideas into motion, I get cold feet. Also, I have many important responsibilities around the house. My schedule is as follows: Monday-vacuuming, Tuesday-laundry, Wednesday has apparently become ‘doctor’ day, Thursday is Helen’s hair day with a stop at Dairy Queen, Friday-groceries, Saturday-bathroom cleaning, and Sunday-grandchildren day. Of course, there is the daily morning bicycle ride, followed by morning pool time before late morning pool time and finally afternoon pool time filling up the daylight hours. As the Grinch exclaims in the movie ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ ‘I’m booked.’
It is extremely hard to go on a quest when you cannot leave home base. Today, I bit the bullet and ventured out for a short road trip in search of the holy grail. The expectations for this beginning were not high. The most important aspect of the day was simply to ‘go’. I met the goal.
My destination was not far from our house at The Warbird Flights and Museum housed in an ancient hanger adjacent to the Kissimmee Gateway Airport runway.
The hanger is stuffed with vintage aircraft and parts of others. The staff’s focus is more on the flying part of the venture rather than the museum. Walking into the show room/gift shop the guy behind the counter queried, ‘Are you here to fly or for the museum?’ It turns out this guy races vintage aircraft when he is not selling tickets at the museum.
Walking through the gift shop with my ticket I stepped carefully through the door into the hanger. The moment I opened the door I knew this was the right time to be at the museum. Two T-6 Texans finishing their checklist while two 550 HP Pratt and Whitney engines roared and spurted sending a deep rumble through my chest were vibrating just outside the door.
Standing so close to the two vintage planes’ roaring engines was spectacular. As the pilots pushed the throttle forward to taxi out to the runway the prop wash sent me chasing my hat before I could catch a photo of the two planes moving down the taxiway.
I waited around to see them launch and was not disappointed. The two craft appeared above the trees heading away from me before turning back to continue their upward movement making that great rumbling sound that happens when two 550 hp engines strain for altitude. Wow! (I checked into the cost of taking a flight. We decided we didn’t need to dent the wallet that much.)
It was time to turn my attention to the very full hanger behind me. The star of the crowd was without a doubt a pristine TP40N Warhawk eating a Transformer.
This was a magnificent craft. Later, during my sojourn I learned that the beautiful plane was resurrected from an old, shot up, Warhawk.
The original plane was shot down and the pilot survived the hard landing to burn the plane preventing the enemy from salvaging the craft. I also found out why the shiny Warhawk was in such great shape. Only two parts (the guy talking to me did not know which two) from the original were in the pristine craft in front of me. If I got the story right this is the craft the ticket taker drives during those vintage aircraft races.
The second craft that caught my eye was one familiar to me from my navy days in Vietnam.
The pilots who flew the Bird Dog were crazy people. Often, they were flying low enough to receive small arms fire from enemy troops. Sometimes I believe they tried to be crazier than each other for the notoriety of having bullet holes in their plane when they landed. Good memories of a turbulent time.
At times we have seen a B-17 fly over our lake but there were no big planes to be seen on this day. There was some B-17 nose art hanging on the wall, however.
I asked my favorite mother-in-law if this was a picture of her. She just smiled. Many times she has told us about waitressing during the war years. The story always includes comments about her being on lots of plane rides with the pilots stationed at the air field in Grove City. So, maybe?
Wandering through the museum displays I stumbled upon a section entitled ‘The Second Attack on Pearl Harbor’.
Well, this was new to me and it is important in our ‘golden’ years to keep learning, so I paused at this section. The short version of the story is that the Japanese recognized they missed some important targets during the first attack on Pearl Harbor. They planned ‘Operation K’ intended to be repeated bombing runs on crucial targets. The attacks would be made by Kawanishi H8K ‘Emily” flying boats.
The first attempt, in March 1942, launched from Wotje in the Marshall Islands. The planes had to refuel from a submarine near French Frigate Shoal (largest atoll in the Northwest Hawaiian Islands). One of the planes did drop bombs on Oahu on the side of an extinct volcano named Tantalus Peak. Some minor damage was done to nearby Roosevelt High School. The US Navy figured out the refueling spot and patrolled the area more seriously preventing refueling and the continuation of the raids on Pearl Harbor.
Finally, there was a beautiful looking Rolls Royce engine sitting on a stand in the hanger.
The guy I was asking questions of was uncertain about the engine’s origins. He thought it came out of a P-51Mustang. The Mustang was the fighter that gave the Allies the advantage over the Luftwaffe in WWII and has a most distinctive profile. We have seen a P-51 fly over our lake so maybe that Mustang left an engine behind.
If I put that engine in my Ford Escape I bet those street racer dudes would stay away from me. (Alexa: Play “409” by the Beach Boys) Alexa pronounces the title ‘four hundred nine’. Sometimes she isn’t as smart as she thinks she is.
The morning was fast approaching lunch, so I decided to head for home and something to eat.
I did not find the grail on this adventure, unless vibrating in the rumble of two T-6 Texans engines is a grail moment. But I did get out of the house.
While watching a round table discussion on our local Orlando television station about the new school year My Jane and I were struck by four things. The panel included two superintendents of county schools, the vice president of a teacher’s union, a doctor, and a counselor. The four things that stood out to us revolved negatively around the state’s governor, Ron DeSantis. When asked about mask mandates the panel members said their hands were tied by the governor’s ‘no mask mandate’ legislation. When asked about other programs and plans to make school safer for students and staff the panel members shared their frustration with the slow rollout of funding from the State Department of Education. Asked about the possibility of virtual education again this year the response was that the governor had stopped the funding for that program. Finally, in response to the governors claim that masks are harmful to children the doctor pulled no punches in stating the fallacy of this disinformation. The consensus of the panel members was that they could not do what was necessary to protect students and staff due to actions by the state’s governor.
Florida school systems are hamstrung by Florida’s governor, Ron DeSantis, who during a worldwide health crisis signed an ordinance stating that it is illegal to require the wearing of face masks in Florida, a state with the highest rate of infection from COVID-19. When the Miami-Dade school board moved to require masks in school to protect students and staff the governor threatened to withhold funding to the school. (By the way that money came from Miami-Dade taxpayers.) This governor claims he is making these moves in support of individual rights. His theory is that the government has no right to pass laws telling individuals what to do for their safety. (He doesn’t seem to recognize that by signing a law abolishing mask mandates he is telling people they cannot protect themselves.)
Let’s not dwell on how his actions put people at risk of serious illness and possible death. The rate of COVID-19 hospitalizations and deaths in the state speak loudly to this truth. As of this date, August 4, 2021, Florida’s COVID-19 hospitalizations are up 13% from the previous peak last month. 11,515 patients are hospitalized with COVID-19. Of those 21% are in the ICU and 13% are on ventilators. In the past week 1/3 of all US COVID-19 cases reported were in Texas and Florida. Florida residents are being placed at risk by a governor who will not take precautions to protect the people.
Instead, I want to focus on the idiocy of the claim that the government can’t tell people what to do. The primary purpose of government is to protect the lives of the citizens living within that country or state. A government that cannot tell people what must be done to keep people safe has no purpose. It has ever been so. During the Revolutionary War General George Washington was losing more troops to Smallpox than he was losing to the British forces. After some initial hesitancy Washington issued the order to have all troops inoculated on Feb. 5, 1777, in a letter to John Hancock, who was president of the Second Continental Congress. In another letter, Washington ordered all recruits arriving in Philadelphia be inoculated.
Government’s job is to protect the people. General Washington determined that protecting his troops required a vaccination (known then as variolation). The General did his job as the commander-in-chief of the military.
The State of Florida, of which DeSantis is governor, attempts to keep the citizenry safe by requiring all school students to be vaccinated as a public health measure. The vaccines required by Florida, the state DeSantis is governor of, before children may enroll and attend childcare and school are Diphtheria-tetanus-acellular pertussis (DTaP), Inactivated polio vaccine (IPV), Measles-mumps-rubella (MMR), Varicella (chickenpox), Haemophilus influenzae type b (Hib), Pneumococcal conjugate (PCV13), Hepatitis B (Hep B).
Does DeSantis intend to eliminate the government requirement for these seven vaccines so parents can retain the right to make their own decisions? Does he plan to enable resurgence in measles, mumps and rubella which killed thousands so poorly informed parents can choose not to vaccinate their children? Is his plan to facilitate the renewed threat of polio which killed thousands so parents with misinformation can choose not to have the vaccine administered?
Of course the government can mandate health measures to keep the population safe and must mandate measures to keep us safe. In our world full of misinformation, it is more important for the government to make decisions that protect the populace than in decades past. We need sound government mandates in a world where people believe a vaccine will make them magnetic, or a virus is only a hoax. Too much misinformation is getting into people’s heads for the government to abdicate its responsibility to protect people who do not understand the dangers stalking them.
The governor’s obtuse assault on mask wearing as a hazard to children is the depth of insanity. Medical personnel wear masks for much of their working experience and have shown no negative symptoms as a result. Since the pandemic began, retail, delivery, first responders, and service personnel have been wearing masks with no negative results. Masks have been used for decades to reduce the chance of infection without resulting in negative health issues. How is it possible that a governor responsible for the safety of the population would declare that no government entity within the state can mandate mask wearing to protect the population? There is no intelligent or reasonable reason to not make mask wearing mandatory so we can beat this virus and get back to normal.
DeSantis is failing the people by ignoring his responsibility to protect them from a deadly virus which is swiftly mutating and becoming ever more potent and easily transmissible. He is putting our children and grandchildren at risk because he ignores science, common sense, and concern for others’ safety. Many are going to suffer because of this governor’s ignorance.
When the government loses or abdicates its responsibility to protect the citizens, we will lose all our rights. Most importantly, we will lose our right to live safely within our borders.
The round table discussion about schools reopening highlights the dangers of a governor who refuses to accept scientific data that can stop a medical crisis. With the loss of virtual learning my three precious grandchildren are being forced to attend ‘in person’ school with no mandated protections. My grandchildren’s right to choose has been taken away by the governor and they are too young to be vaccinated. Their one hope is to be placed in an environment where everyone takes the virus seriously, puts on a mask and keeps their distance. We are placing our most precious resources at great risk because the governor is more concerned about individual freedom of choice over a society’s freedom to live.
Psychologists and counselors will tell you we must talk to those we disagree with if we want to make progress in our world. As a pastoral counselor this was often my recommendation when dealing with folks who were at odds. And there was a time when two intelligent people with differing views could talk through their differences in America. Not anymore. With the rise of the Tea Party movement and the ascension of Donald Trump dialogue is no longer possible.
It is not possible to discuss the need for COVID vaccines with a person who says, “Everyone is lying” about COVID-19, including the media, Democrats and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention… (TV host Chuck Woolery)
It is not possible to talk about American elections with someone who looks for evidence of bamboo in paper ballots. (Arizona Republicans)
It is not possible to debate freedom of speech with someone who believes the January 6 insurrection was a normal tourist day in the Nation’s Capital. (GOP Rep. Andrew Clyde of Georgia) (It was not.)
It is not possible to have an intelligent conversation about anything with someone who believes Jewish space lasers cause the fires in California. (GOP Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene)
It is not possible to discuss national healthcare with someone who tweets, ‘The easiest way to make the Delta variant go away is to turn off CNN. And vote Republican. (GOP Rep. Lauren Boebert)
It is not possible to talk about climate with someone holding a glass of water with an ice cube in it who says, ‘The glass will not overflow when the ice cube melts.’ as proof that melting ice will not cause the ocean level to rise. (Posted on Facebook)
It is not possible to hold a reasonable conversation about vaccinations with someone who believes vaccines are a government attempt to insert a tracking microchip in his/her body. (Posted on Facebook)
It is not possible to share intelligently about vaccinations with someone who believes a worldwide pandemic is the work of the deep state to take down Donald Trump. (Posted on Facebook)
It is not possible to talk about immigration reform with someone who believes democratic elites are drinking children’s blood in a Washington D.C. pizza shop. (Q-anon postings)
It is not possible to discuss diversity with a white supremacist. (Stephen Miller who supports the ‘great replacement’ theory for one.)
Its not possible to talk civilly about health issues with someone who believes drinking bleach is good for you. (Donald Trump)
It is not possible to talk productively about gun safety with someone who believes more guns means safer neighborhoods. (NRA Leadership) It is not possible to talk gun safety with someone who after receiving the gift of an AR-15 exclaims, “Maybe I’ll find somebody in Washington, D.C.”
It is not possible to talk about anything intelligently with cranks, crackpots, loonies, or FOX news personalities.
The time for talk is long past. Instead, sane people must enact laws that protect the rights of everyone to live in America with food, shelter, medical care, and freedom from the threat of violence before the cranks, crackpots, loonies, and FOX news personalities are in positions of leadership again. People who believe conspiracy theories espoused by the ‘My Pillow Guy’ cannot discuss rationally how to fix our crumbling infrastructure or get vaccines into people’s arms or reverse climate change. The motto for these folks is, ‘Don’t confuse me with facts.’ Discussion is improbable with these folks.
If discussion is improbable, and I believe it is, sane people must begin the dissolution of the Union. We simply cannot continue as one nation with 50% of the population living in the real world while 50% of the population lives in a fantasy. If we cannot pass the necessary legislation to protect all the citizens, then let us divide up peaceably. You know like, who wants to go with California, who wants to go with Texas and who wants to go with New York. It will take several decades until the final country borders are drawn put let us do it now before the loonies take control and force us into an authoritarian nightmare. We can separate amicably when the loonies understand they can have their own country free of the sane people. Let’s do it now while we have the chance. Let’s do it now before the cranks are in power and all of us are being oppressed under an authoritarian fascist government.