Thanksgiving from: Pacific Paratrooper

Pacific Paratrooper

Rakkasans of today.
187th RCT


US troops in Afghanistan give thanks.

Thanksgiving during WWII…

They’re celebrating Thanksgiving on this very day,

My thoughts are at home, though I’m far away;

I can see everyone, eating dinner deluxe,

Whether it be chicken, turkey or even duck;

The fellows over here won’t whimper or moan,

They’ll look to the next one and hope to be home.


Truly and honestly, from way down deep,

They want you to be happy and enjoy your feast.

These holidays are remembered by one and all,

Those happy days we can always recall.

The ones in the future, will be happier, I know

When we all come back from defeating the foe.

_______Poem by an Anonymous WWII Veteran


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the end

So I lost a few followers last week, not surprised. I’ll likely lose more this week. For some reason political correctness and cancel culture have become the norm, preying on the graces of people who know better.

I am troubled though, by the profound evidence of election tampering, whichever ‘side’ you voted for. Freedom is important to me. I have voted in every election since I was eligible to vote. Every one. Never missed. I will admit there were a few when America was so prosperous I did not give enough consideration to who claimed to do what and actually meant it.

It saddens me to think that votes do not actually matter in this country. We have always stood for the sacredness of choosing our leadership and strongly encouraged each other to participate in the election process. It never occurred to me to wonder who friends voted for. Our friendship was not based on political inclinations. Now, I have found, it does. A few months ago, having a conversation of current issues my “friend”, disagreeing with my thoughts called me evil and a problem.

When I recovered, I replied, “I guess this conversation is not going anywhere,” and the person got in my face to pursue expressing her rage. I excused myself from the conversation, shaking, more from fear than rage.

When did we become so politicized? When did abject hatred replace agreeing to disagree? When did a person’s hate for a politician translate to hate (or at a minimum dismissive disdain) for the politician’s supporters thereby justifying verbal or physical attacks?

This is just wrong.

In addition, a blogger I follow has been advised by WordPress that he has until December 2, 2020 before his blog will be ‘deplatformed’. He was informed that his values and views are out of alignment with that of the domain. His posts are factual, informative, well-researched, honest, thoughtful, inclusive, enlightening, and conservative. Hence the deplatforming.

So I will not be writing for a while. Yes, I am discouraged. Saddened. I will, in time, resolve to press on. And I am driving to visit family in Texas for Thanksgiving, after which I will be moving from my beloved home state of North Carolina.

It just isn’t home anymore.

I wish any remnant of readers I possibly still have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah or whatever you may celebrate, and a joyous 2021. In the end hope and faith are all we really have.

God bless and keep each of you.


So one of the favorite parks of rescue dogs Lily and Lulu is a few miles up the road, and was named after the man who dedicated it to the city over a hundred years ago. It is a favorite because there is a paved pathway through the park, lightly shaded with thousands of long leaf pines. There is a fenced dog park, a couple of ball fields, playgrounds, a waterpark and picnic shelters. It has been refreshing to see all these offerings enjoyed again, after the severe lockdown.

plaque that is now nameless

We visited this park recently. There is an ornate wrought iron archway at the entrance proclaiming the name of the park, up to now, the gentleman who donated the land.

Not any more.

It is now called Long Leaf Park. I suppose this is ok, but why did they change it? My supposition is because the man who dedicated it was a son of the confederacy and, regardless of who he fought for or against, it was apparently a reminder of that particular time in America’s history which is in process of being erased.

I have parts of my own personal life I am not particularly proud of. I won’t erect monuments to them, but they are going to be a part of my memory my entire life. Thankfully I have learned from these things and moved on. Onward and upward as my mother would say.

So why can this country not understand that monuments, statues and national parks are also reminders of, not who we are, but our growing pains? People we have grown from, not who we are or will become?

As a people we are not born finished products. We learn. We grow. We change, develop and (we hope) become better. The statues and monuments are not to celebrate what happened but to remind us of where we were but aren’t anymore. We can’t forget our history. The descendants of those who suffered from it should be grateful their forebears survived and became stronger. Anything less is mere bitterness. Where justice resulted we as a nation need to be humbled for what we overcame.

It’s said those who forget the past are doomed to relive it (attributed to Edmund Burke, among others). I for one prefer to move forward from some things that happened in America’s history as well as my own personal history. I look toward a day when justice is greater than injustice. But we won’t find it by being angry instead of proud that we have come through difficult times, nor by erasing reminders of our past.


So the weather has been teasing us again here on the NC coast that the humid days are coming to an end. We get a couple of days of cold mornings, dry, warm afternoons, then a day like today with muggy air and blustery winds. Hurricane Zeta decided to throw some our way but that’s long since past. So no idea where this is coming from. Hurricane Eta is visiting Honduras.

humidity-loving tree frog stuck to garage door

Rescue dogs Lily and Lulu love the cooler weather. Lily’s hot spot of 3 months ago has morphed into a larger area. It does not appear to bother her until I have to wash her but she looks moth-eaten. She doesn’t care, and I don’t care, either but people have stopped asking about it. Well, hoping with cold weather it will soon be history.

Occasionally I walk on my own after Lily and Lulu have their walks. It always interests me when I see others walk their dogs. Most seem to understand that if you are walking with a dog it is their walk, not yours. They stop to inspect every third blade of grass or, if they are strong and young, strain against the leash lengthening your arm in the process. On the rare occasion when Lily was younger and she spotted a rabbit she would suddenly cross in front of me without warning and I’d cartwheel into the bush. But more and more I am seeing dogs on a short even if retractable leash being dragged behind their person who apparently is on a walk for exercise not for dog exploration. I feel badly for the dog.

I almost never see initials or names etched in newly-poured concrete sidewalks or driveways anymore. Obviously this was from many years ago. I never knew Kathy or Bob. I don’t know if they lived where this was engraved, or if they did, that they are even still there. But it is carved (until the driveway/ sidewalk is replaced) in time immemorial as a testimony that once this couple wished to let anyone who passed by know that they were important to each other.

Once I saw “Jesus Loves me” carved on a tree trunk. It gave me pause. It is a truth that applies to every one of us. Whether we love Him, obey Him, seek Him or even believe in Him, He loves us.

fennel seeds

I tried to remember though if I have ever seen a carved “I love Jesus” and I couldn’t. But then He tells us when we love Him we show it because in true love you want to do things that make the person you love happy. So you serve Him. Not because He expects to be served but because this is who He was when He came to save us. And He is still interceding for us. But it is our choice. So saying and doing are not the same thing. He is life. Forever.