19. September 2005 · Comments Off on Memo: To the Media, Re Katrina · Categories: General, Home Front, Media Matters Not, Rant

To: Major Media—TV Division
From: Sgt Mom
Re: Katrina Koverage

I honestly wonder why I even bother with NPR any more, the odor of sour sanctimony emanating from such as Diane Rehm and Daniel Schorr is enough to make me gag, most days, but I can avoid the one, and yell through my radio at the other that he is a senile old idiot stuck in his Watergate glory days. Oh, yeah, now I remember: the alternatives are worse. Morning Edition and All Things Considered and the rest of the news programs do make an attempt to cover the news in depth, to examine the genuinely quirky and offbeat, to have sound-bites that are actually longer than 20 seconds, and on occasion to use words that contain three syllables. Also they gave a miss to covering the saga of the runaway bride, the missing student in Aruba, the trial of whatsisfern who murdered his pregnant wife, and other such sensational fare— for which I am profoundly grateful. (They found one, didn’t find the other, and convicted the third, just in case there is anyone else who cares.) Besides, it’s not good to live in an echo chamber, as far as news is concerned: I figure since I listen to NPR, I can give a miss to DU and the Kos Kiddies. (And I still think that would be a great name for a garage band.)

It actually wasn’t a guest interviewee on one of the news programs that set off this week’s Sgt. Mom rant, it was a guest on “Whadda Ya Know”, a sort of comic quiz and variety program, which is Prairie Home Companion’s poorer cousin. This week, the show was broadcast from Cleveland Ohio, and the first interviewed guest was one Connie Schultz, a Pulitzer-Prize winning columnist from the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I’d never heard of her, but then I’d never heard of James Lileks, either, before I took up blogging. She came off rather charming at first, with a good radio presence, and nice voice… but then she started talking about news coverage of Katrina, gloated over the horrible plight of those told to take refuge in the New Orleans Superdome and the Convention Center, noted even that the Fox news reporters came unglued over the horrible conditions there, and dumped responsibility for it all onto FEMA. She wound up with a note of pious self-satisfaction by noting that the news media had got their soul back, with the Katrina coverage. Never a mention of course, of the drowned school busses, the evacuation plan that was never followed, or the stunning contrast between the actions of local authorities in New Orleans, and those in Mississippi and Alabama. Of course not— it’s all Bush’s fault.

I hope that beautiful thought gives her some satisfaction— she apparently specializes in writing about the downtrodden and disenfranchised— but, no, I don’t think the news media has got their soul back. Maybe some of the print journalists have, with stories that go back and look at some of the existing issues and events that weren’t rushed in front of the cameras (like this, or this, or this *)but the majority of TV “journalists” have their souls right where they always were… that is, whoring after the bloody, the immediate dramatic image, the simplistic, the sheer drama of a large number of people descending straight into the lord of the flies mode, right in front of the camera. “Look at what Bush made us do!!!!!”, but never a word about the logistical challenges of getting effective help into a large area, when the infrastructure is wrecked, never a word about the absolutely stunning failure of the local and state government to even begin to live up to their commitments to local citizens, never even a bit of healthy skepticism about some of the more audacious claims of riot, rape and murder… Well, really, as commanding officers doing condolence letters were supposed to have written about personnel who managed to get themselves killed in unusually stupid ways, “They behaved in the manner which we had come to expect of them”.

There is a story, about a gossip who regretted spreading a story, and went to the local rabbi, who told her a parable about opening a feather pillow into the wind… and then trying to collect all the scattered feathers. Our TV news-people scatter the feathers, unthinkingly into the wind, and then try to justify their inability to collect them… and wonder why no one respects them any more. Perhaps Ms. Schultz will figure that out, but don’t ask me to hold my breath while she does.

Sincerely,
Sgt Mom

(* Sorry, can’t work out a link for this one that circumvents their registry. It’s the story that Instapundit linked late last week about Louisiana FEMA personnel being under investigation for misusing funds)

16. September 2005 · Comments Off on The Ongoing Quest for Gainful Employment #5 · Categories: General, Home Front, Working In A Salt Mine...

The goal, that shimmering Holy Grail of regular, well-paid and gainful employment still tantalizes, and is, alas, as elusive as ever, although I have to say at least I have been smarter than Barbara Ehrenreich, and have not been so foolish as to actually pay anyone to coach or workshop me into it. I have been temping, for much of last month, courtesy of a major national temp agency. That would be the legitimate sort of agency, which screens, tests, and guarantees a degree of proficiency in the employees they supply on short notice to employers who don’t want to bother with doing all that themselves.

I enjoyed the last assignment enormously (all but the commute to the job site which was brutal!), practiced some useful skills, and made myself indispensable for three weeks— just long enough to not get bored. One of the other agencies had a follow-on assignment that was supposed to start today, working at the front desk of the corporate HQ for one of our local business magnates for a month or six weeks, but they wanted to have a quick meeting with me first, or so said the agency rep; “They love your resume,” they said, “They just want to meet you first.” Well, I’m OK with that— make sure I am not a bag lady, or have two heads, or whatever— very important to make that good first impression, when a client walks in the door. I arranged to meet them on Monday, expecting to begin training with the person I’ll be replacing on Friday.

You know the old joke about how to tell if you are working class, middle-class or rich? If your name is on your shirt, you’re working class. If it’s on your desk, middle-class. When you’re rich, your name is on the building. This guys name was on the building. I was impressed, so I hid the VEV in the very darkest spot in the visitor section of the parking garage.
Unfortunately, what I thought was just a pre-employment meeting turned out to be a regular job-type-interview, which kind of takes away the advantage of working with a temp agency, you’d think… that, and the fact they hired someone else and took until Thursday morning to inform the agency. And that meant three days that I didn’t use to pursue other openings… and jobs I may have missed out on. Agencies usually make it very, very clear when you are interviewing for a prospective position, and when you are assigned to show up and start to work for three weeks, four weeks or whatever. Annoyed, am I? Yes, slightly.

I am interviewing at two more agencies early next week, and being processed by a third one to work at another huge corporate establishment, so we’ll see what comes up first. Being on the books of five different agencies ought to guarantee a lock on anything interesting available in the administrative assistant/executive secretary line, one would think. Maybe I should loan Barbara Ehrenreich my resume.

I’m tired of being around the house, and running out of projects to do; I’ve already painted the kitchen cabinets and put in new shelf-paper. Blondie says I should clear out the garage, but a third of the stuff in there is hers, for her prospective student apartment. It’s still too hot to work in the garden, and nothing on tap to date from Joe’s editor friend is anything I am qualified to write about. So I sit at the computer and send my resume whirling out into cyberspace, hoping that somewhere out there is something worth putting on my whole interview drag for. In the long run, we are all temping— just some of them are longer assignments than others.

16. September 2005 · Comments Off on KATRINA WAS DEVASTATING, BUT THE GULF COAST WILL RISE AGAIN · Categories: Ain't That America?, Good God, Home Front

Earlier this week, I returned from doing what I could to help in the wake of hurricane Katrina, finding disaster at home, but we’re on the road to normal again, as are the victims of this destructive storm. The President spoke last night of the courage of those who survived Katrina, and I got a chance to witness that up close and personal. Here’s what we did and how and when….

After the first roadblock, losing the transmission in my van, I got underway again, in my wife’s Dodge Durango. I have no idea why she wanted to buy a 4wd, but I’m glad she did. However, it doesn’t hold nearly as much as my Lumina! BTW, the van is now in the shop, the transmission is out, and a new used one should be installed by Monday. I opted for the used one instead of a rebuilt not only due to cost, but as the van has 155,000 miles on it, I probably will replace it sometime next year. We just pray that a used transmission will hold up better than the one that just gave up the ghost! You see, the original one failed at 100,000, and this one only lasted 55,000 miles. OK, it was some 3 years ago that it was put in. It probably would have lasted for a good long time without such a heavy load, but I had it loaded to the gills, so it was hauling about the max weight, which I believe is why it failed…..

I have already blogged here about leaving home and stopping for the night at our son’s home in Alabama. That post has the links to the earlier posts about the trip. Visit those links, and that brings you up to date with the whole history of this adventure.

Leaving Birmingham, I took I-20/I-59 west and south, entering Mississippi a couple of hours later. I had picked up an additional radio that I had purchased from a fellow ham in Atlanta the day before, and the materials I needed to construct an antenna for it in Birmingham. I already had VHF radios, and the new one is a “low bands” rig, for frequencies from 1.8 MHZ to 50 MHz. I had earlier sold my low band radio, and regretted it the day I did! I like the new one a lot better, though, it’s a lot more advanced technology. For the fellow hams, it’s an Alinco DX-70-TH. Enough of the technical stuff.

Damage seemed to start like a switch being turned on as I entered Mississippi. We have a niece who lives in Laurel, and they took a couple of trees on – and in – the house they had just moved into. Thank God they had spent the night in a shelter, as one tree went through the roof over their bedroom, and another wound up with a huge limb in their baby’s crib. I talked to her on her cell phone as I was going through Laurel, she was out buying furniture, they have an apartment now while their house is being repaired…glad they’re OK. I dropped off the interstate at Hattiesburg, some 60 miles or so from Gulfport, and that’s where I got my assignment, to Gulfport. From Hattiesburg, which had significant damage with trees and power lines down everywhere, I took US 49 south. The road was mostly clear by this time, and I had a lot of company on the trip south. All kinds of vehicles, especially 18-wheelers with loads of relief supplies.

About 25 miles out of Gulfport, I managed to make contact with the Harrison County EOC (Emergency Operations Center – the hq for coordination of all relief efforts) and got directions to my operating location. We had taken over an elementary school in Gulfport, and it was the comm center coordinating with the Red Cross locations throughout the Mississippi coast region. Other radio operators were already there, and some seemed really glad for the relief.

They sent me over to Biloxi, to the largest RC distribution center, to get orientated, and I was in for a big surprise there. Special recognition is due the Alabama Baptist Convention for their massive Disaster Relief Team. They had several 18-wheelers with such things as a kitchen for cooking the food that was distributed daily to residents, and they were coordinating delivery of food by Salvation Army vans throughout Biloxi and Ocean Springs. Located at a very large Baptist church on Popps Ferry Road, they were together with the Red Cross, giving out everything from soap to soup, clothing, ice, water, just everything. And not only for the residents, the ABC was also providing everything for relief workers, from showers to food to ice and water. They even had a laundry trailer, where they were doing laundry for us. Incredible! I had never seen such a large effort by any one organization, and my hat is off to those great Baptists from Alabama. Especially to one guy, Rick, a ham op who gave me the tour and orientation. I don’t think he stopped the whole time he was there, every time I went over to Biloxi he was there, doing one thing or another. Wish I had gotten his last name, and I’m gonna try to get it from the ABC, he was just such a super guy, tears in his eyes as he brought me up to speed. Like everyone I met there, Rick really cared about what he was doing there….

Back in Gulfport, it was 24/7 on several radios. One was the separate freq for the Red Cross, another for VHF, a repeater that covered the area well, and the other a low-bands radio used for more distant comm. I finally got some sleep late the first night, moving stuff out of the back so I could lie on my air mattress bed. I was so tired I was gone by the time my head hit the pillow. Some of the guys slept in the building, but there was no power except generator power, and no A/C, so it was about 90 degrees inside. Others did like me, sleeping in their vehicles with the engine idling, running the AC. Worked fine, and didn’t use much gas.

I woke up about daylight, some 5 AM or so, and went inside to work radios for the day. A couple of hours into the shift, one of the Biloxi guys was calling for a technician to help put another repeater on the air. Since they knew I was a radio tech, the finger pointed to me, and I was off for the 10-mile trip to Biloxi via I-10. You couldn’t get there by Beach Boulevard or by Pass Road, two of the main roads. And Popps Ferry road was impassible just west of Biloxi, a bridge had washed completely out. It is unbelievable just how powerful was the storm surge, about 30 feet in the MS area, and so wide spread. Can you imagine how much force it takes to completely destroy a bridge weighing tons? The bridge across Lake Ponchartrain in LA, from Hammond to New Orleans, is just gone! It was only recently that they constructed a second bridge alongside the old one, making it a 4-lane road. For many years it was a 2-lane, 24 miles over water, and a lot of people, including the folks that Jen worked for, had to commute daily across the lake. I will say this: I wouldn’t have wanted to be there to watch those bridges being destroyed.

From Biloxi, the US-90 bridge to Ocean Springs to the east, is totally gone. Good Lord, the power of that water seems to have been many times more than just wind alone. Well, that’s backed up by the National Hurricane Center, who warns every time that the storm surge will get ya if you don’t get out of the way. (We saw the same results in 1989, hurricane Hugo, in SC. The small town we were sent to had been mostly flattened by storm surge. Shrimp boats were 1/2 mile inland!) Back to Katrina, it is, or was, really difficult to get through many of the streets in Biloxi, and I just went with the flow, deviating where I had to. At the Biloxi center, Rick gave me a map, showing how to get to the repeater site. It was only a few blocks away in one of the Cable Company’s buildings. We needed the second repeater to take some of the strain off the 13/73 machine, which was nearly constantly in transmit mode. They were afraid that it would quit, and we’d be left without a repeater to cover the area.

For the most part, we had to tune the duplexer, a device that keeps the transmitter signal isolated from the receiver, enabling one single antenna to be used for transmit and receive. Now, tuning those “cans” isn’t fun even with proper test equipment, which was very noticeably absent at first, but it was nearly impossible with nothing but my portable, handheld radio, to work with. Finally, one of the local techs showed up with the right equipment, and we got a 28/88 machine on the air, taking up slack from the other one. The numbers I put there are for the hams. They are part of the frequencies of the TX and RX, and that’s what we use to identify a repeater. For instance, 13/73 means that the repeater receives on 146.13 MHz (Input) , and transmits on 146.73 MHz (Output). Now you all know one more “ham” secret…..

While at the cable building, since they had power, I plugged in my cell phone charger to an outlet, as I had misplaced my vehicle charger and it was getting low. I also took advantage of enough room, to build my tree-mounted antenna for the HF, making what is called a “folded dipole” for 80, 40, and 20 meters. That’s a simple, old-fashionedlong wire antenna that can be configured in a number of ways, making multi-freq ops easier. Now we were ready for boondocks ops if needed.

By the third day, Sep 7, someone noticed that he had some amount of cell signal. Sure enough, there was a fairly good signal on my phone, but it was impossible to get a channel. I guess, as the day went on, cell techs got more channels up and running, and by evening I was able to talk to Jen. That was really a pleasant surprise, as these days we don’t usually have TDY’s like this, and we miss each other! It was really nice for each of us to know the other was fine. Jen’s a big worrier (ducking!) and (LOOK OUT!) she was glad to know I wasn’t lying in a ditch bleeding to death. (That’s an inside joke. It’s what we used to tell the kids when they were teenage drivers and they didn’t let us know where they were when they were driving around)

Having cell phone signal back was great, and at first we thought it would ease the traffic load, but what we were doing didn’t lend itself to phone contact. When one of the shelters, or distribution centers, needed something routed to them, they called us, and we had to find the resource and direct it to them. There was lots of that, calls for more ice, calls for more MRE’s, and such. I went over a couple of times to Biloxi to pick up things like that and take them to the Gulfport area. Ice and water were really important to everyone. It was 90 degrees in the daytime, not much better at night until just before dawn, and really easy to get dehydrated. People working in debris removal or traffic control had it rough. I kept my cooler full of ice, sitting on the right front seat, water inside, and when I came to an intersection where traffic was being directed by a NG troop or a police officer, I got into the habit of passing him a bottle of water as I passed. Sometimes some of those guys had several empty bottles at their posts, so others were doing the same thing. Around Thursday of last week – I lost track of the days – power came back on at our base location. Then it went off. Then back on. OK, by that evening, we had AC working, and it began to be cooler in the building.

Destruction in the Gulfport – Biloxi area was pretty bad, but the speed with which recovery is going is really impressive. Power companies from all over the country are working to get power back on, and other people, such as law enforcement folks are there from nearly everywhere. I met a group of state troopers from Indiana at Hattiesburg, even before I got to Gulfport. They were on their way down. There were groups of Florida state troopers there. Sonar guy asked me in a comment if there were Naval Reservists there. In fact, there were. On Thursday, on a trip to the Biloxi center, I met up with a whole group of Naval reservists, unloading trucks and passing out supplies. They were really working hard, doing the grunt work. Someone else asked me about NG and ANG troops. They were all over. Many of the NG troops were directing traffic in both cities, and that was really needed, as both power being out and many of the traffic lights just completely missing. It was impressive to see that many troops working so diligently, helping others when they could have been home in comfort and doing their civilian jobs.

Getting gas was no problem, as my Durango had been given a placard designating it an official vehicle. A Chevron station across from the school where we were had been designated for official vehicles only, and their gas was only $2.39, while folks here in GA were paying more than a dollar more per gallon. We had to go in at night to fill up, and I tried to keep my tank full, just in case.

On Friday, the EOC sent me to check on a few other towns, small towns west of Gulfport, such as Picayune. I left, traveling on I-10, going west along to Bay St. Louis and Waveland. You may have seen pictures on Fox News of the destruction there, but it was near total. I did take a lot of pictures, which I will try to post on my web site, Patriot Flyer.

Along I-10, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but there were cars just blown off the road lying upside down in the ditch, and even up in some of the trees. Trees, of course, were down everywhere, and animals of all kinds were lying, washed up and drowned, in the median and alongside the road. There were cats, dogs, even hogs and possums, raccoons, it was amazing. Something else brought to my attention, was, “Where are the birds?” There were no birds, no bugs, and I saw only one mosquito the whole time. I’m sure they’re breeding by now, and birds, probably totally blown away, will return. One other thing on that subject: We had a garbage dump at the Biloxi center, and nowhere to be found were the usual varmints, like possums, coons, squirrels, and other scavengers. There were none around! Also along I-10, there used to be these huge billboards, and every single one of them is gone. Every billboard, the frame is blown inward from the gulf, or completely knocked down. Got some good pictures of that.

At Stennis airport, I stopped in at Hancock County EOC, where I found the greatest concentration of NG and ANG troops. I took time to eat lunch there, an MRE, and sat and talked with a guy from I believe, Ohio. The Guard had also set up a medical facility, as the Hancock Med Center had been largely destroyed. They had one of those packaged MASH units, very impressive. I took the time to talk with a Lt. Col, doctor, outside the tent, and didn’t get his name or where he was from.

Stennis Airport is one of those ventures, a “boondoggle,” that was constructed, and named after the late Mississippi senator, John Stennis, in the early 70’s. It was supposed to be a reliever airport for New Orleans, something which never happened. Being some 35 miles away, it was just too far. In 1979, when we lived in NO, I took Jenny and flew over to Stennis, which was at the time just an 8,000 foot runway with nothing else around. I was trying to teach her to land the plane, in case something happened to me, so she could get us down safely. Lost cause. We flew over there in a Cessna 150, old, worn out, with wind whistling through holes in the thing, and she was just too nervous to learn. I think today she could keep it in the air until somebody could get up there to help her get down, but Stennis didn’t work out!

Stennis today has a few hangars, but they’ve all been damaged, and I saw a few planes lying in heaps. I forgot to mention the military airlift into Gulfport. While I was there, it was constant, with a C-17 or a C-130 Herky Bird landing every few minutes. I even saw a few KC-135’s, also one of my past aircraft, on approach. I mean, it was just a constant stream of military aircraft. Reserve and AD both, and that itself was impressive.

While I was at Stennis, I checked my cell phone, and was surprised that there was a good signal. With the return of cell phone service along the coast, the need for ham operators decreased pretty quickly, and time came that I decided to go back home, as my funds were dwindling pretty rapidly and there was no more to draw on, and no ATM’s working anyway. Over the weekend I began the long drive home, some 900 miles. Leaving Picayune, I drove back to Birmingham, intending to drive all the way home, but Jen called and insisted that I stop at L’Joe’s for the night. That was a good call, as I was pretty tired by the time I got there. The next morning, I finished the trip, and was home by Monday night.

It was not like my experience with other storms. Frederick, in 1979, did nearly as much damage to Mississippi and Alabama, but this monster was much bigger, and the damage will take a lot more to recover from. It will happen, though, and will probably take more than five years to replace all the large structures, like bridges, that were destroyed. Imagine the incredible force it takes to destroy something as heavy and strong as a concrete and steel highway bridge! I’m grateful for the experience of meeting the heroes of this storm, the people who live there, and the folks from everywhere who are doing so much for them. The Red Cross is really doing a fantastic job of helping, and their volunteers are great. Give to the Red Cross if you can, as it is really going to the right place, I can testify to that. Pray for those folks who have to start their lives over again, they need your prayers and I know they appreciate everything that is being done for them.

And, thanks for reading this enormous post! God bless!

14. September 2005 · Comments Off on Wandering the ‘sphere…. · Categories: Domestic, General, Home Front

Citizen Smash posted a letter that should make us all proud, and should have any Navy folks busting their buttons.

From the CNO, it says in part:

At NAS New Orleans I came across a bunch of Seabees working feverishly on the wooden platform for what was going to be a temporary dining facility. It was a contract job, but the contractor was having problems rounding up the necessary manpower and resources. The Seabees didn’t ask permission, didn’t wait for orders. They simply rolled up their sleeves and went to work.

“Hey, they needed help,” one said. “And we know how to do this stuff.”

We do, indeed, know how to do this stuff, and we are doing it exceptionally well. Standing amongst them, I was never more proud to call myself an American Sailor.

It’s well worth your time to follow the link and read the whole thing.

And Baldilocks shares something I’ve not read in very many other places, yet.

“In the name of the Iraqi people, I say to you, Mr. President, and to the glorious American people, thank you, thank you.

“Thank you because you have liberated us from the worst kind of dictatorship. Our people suffered too much from this worst kind of dictatorship. The signal is mass graves with hundred thousand of Iraqi innocent children and women, young and old men. Thank you.”

–President Jalal Talabani of Iraq during his first visit to the White House on Tuesday, September 13, 2005.

If you scroll further down on Baldilocks’ site, you’ll find an entry detailing how Wal-Mart has set up “registries” for the evacuees. Like a bridal registry, the Katrina survivors can register for what they need, and their friends can help them re-stock their lives.

I think Wal-Mart, along with Lowes/Home Depot, is doing a fantastic job of helping out with the recovery efforts. (and yes, I realize it’s in their best economic interest to do so)

14. September 2005 · Comments Off on Hurricane Ophelia: Cherry Point Update · Categories: Domestic, General, Home Front

Just spoke to Cpl. Blondie, at 5 PM CST: she says the rain has been coming down slantways, first from one direction, then the other. The winds are at about 80 MPH, and the eye of the hurricane is expected to pass over Cherry Point at about 10 PM EST, tonight. It’s not too bad now; everyone has been sent to their quarters and told to stay under cover tonight. She is going to stay with a friend of hers in the married housing area.

She was on the list to deploy to the Gulf Coast for Katrina recovery, but tells me that the Marines who were sent there earlier, have already come back— their job is done!

14. September 2005 · Comments Off on Welcome Home · Categories: Ain't That America?, Good God, Home Front

I’m back. In one piece, got home night before last, still too tired to write a decent post. I can say though, that we should each hug our loved ones more tightly than ever. And if you have a house to live in – you’re blessed. Later on this week I’ll try to write more comprehensively about what life is like from Biloxi to Waveland, MS, these days. (They stationed me at Gulfport for most of the time.) Folks, we have thousands of NG, ANG, and reserve troops to be extremely proud of. (Not to mention our great AD folks!) From an NG private that ate an MRE sitting next to me, to the doctor, Lt. Col, that I talked to outside the med tent at Stennis Airport. Much more later.

Now, I’m not complaining, at all. But, have you heard the cliche that everything goes wrong while you’re away? This is laughable. We have already talked about the dead van: sitting under the carport without a working transmission. Here’s the rest. I’m really thankful that I took enough cash for gas while I was gone. ATM’s didn’t work there, and anyway, when I got home my bank account was overdrawn. My bad, I screwed up a deposit before I left… Then, as I was walking into the house, Jen told me that the washing machine had quit. No kidding. Only had it 2 months – used. Of course. To top it off, my paycheck, which has never had a hickup, was not in the bank this morning. No, there’s more. Sewer workers putting in a new line across my back yard accidentally cut my phone line yesterday! I would ask, “what next,” but I’m scared to! Like I said though, I wouldn’t dare complain, not after the folks I’ve met this past week or so. No sir, I’m really blessed!

10. September 2005 · Comments Off on Crescent City Requiem #6 · Categories: Domestic, General, Home Front

Courtyard in the Little Theater, Nrw Orleans

Another antique postcard from my collection, a vision from the past, of what people wanted to see in old New Orleans.

(Last night I was talking to Mom about FEMA, and disaster relief… since she had Dad had been on the recieving end of a national disaster when the Valley Center fire took their house nearly two years ago, they have had some experience of coming away from the disaster zone in just the clothes they stood up in. Mom said it did take FEMA and the Red Cross about a week to get everything really effeciently set up, and processing all the people who had lost homes to the fire. And she and Dad had sufficient resources, and good friends close by (and some who were from farther away, some who only knew them through this blog!) who were quite marvellous with help, they were not entirely dependent whatever official help was offered. But, there were some local community charity drives that got up to speed in the first few days, who made direct cash grants to people who had lost houses— not very much, really, a hundred dollars or so here, fifty there. Mom said it was enormously touching, because it came right away, without strings, or having to fill out complicated claims. Those little cash grants beat out the first of the insurance claim payments by weeks, and let them feel that, yes, they could bounce back from the loss of the house and practically everything in it.
The new house is nearly finished, by the way— just another inspection or two, and they will be offically moving in from the RV.)

07. September 2005 · Comments Off on Memo: Katrina, Deep Water, and Invincible Ignorance · Categories: Ain't That America?, Domestic, General, Home Front

To: Various
From: Sgt Mom
Re: Aftermath
The decent thing— which I would really prefer to do— would be to wait to criticize various responses to the hurricane disaster until the dust has settled, the water drained, and every hurricane evacuee neatly tucked up in freshly-washed sheets in a pleasant and semi-private temporary refuge, while the recovery and rebuilding proceeds apace – but what the hell, I have been practically deafened by the chorus of bickering, blaming and second-guessing. I may as well join in and chew a number of good juicy hunks off those who have managed to annoy me the most.
1. To our foreign (mostly European) friends— please understand that this was an enormous disaster. The area most damaged is about the size of entire independent nations, and we have never had a major city so thoroughly trashed: Chicago lost about a third in the great fire, and Galveston was on the far fringes in the hurricane of 1900. Really, only the San Francisco earthquake and fire comes anywhere close. So, the first few federal resources to make the scene were pretty overwhelmed, and spread about as thin as a pat of butter on an acre of toast. And keep in mind that anyone going into the devastated area has to come a fair distance. You can drive on the interstate at a good clip for three days straight, and still only cross two or three states.
2. To the panjandrums of the major media (but I am looking straight at NPR’s croaker-in-chief, Robert Schorr)— please repeat this mantra to yourself: local, state, federal. Again: Local, State, Federal. (I can’t hear you!!! ) That is the order in which civic authority has responsibility for responding to a disaster. Write it on a body part with a Sharpie, if you have trouble remembering.
3. This goes to Sen. Nancy Pelosi, also.
4. Also keep in mind, oh media geniuses, that the Mississippi/Alabama coast was body-slammed directly by the hurricane, and the smaller coastal cities look from the air as if they were nuked. Try and wrap your searching intellects around this: with a similar racial and socio-economic makeup, they managed to not go all lord-of-the-flies on national television. Their communities held, their municipal and state authorities apparently did their jobs, and their police forces refrained from looting retail establishments. From the reports I have seen or heard they are clearing away rubble, banding together against looters and loss, and generally behaving like responsible citizens. Please amuse me by coming up with a rationale for this that does not mention FEMA, the Bush administration or institutional racism – or condescension to the blue-collar working classes.
5. Governor Blanco: you are not being paid to cry on television. You are also not being paid to be vapid, indecisive, and flutter around like a Barbara Cartland heroine, waiting for the big strong, studly hero to rescue you. This is the sort of woman I have always fought down a desire to slap silly. I’d do it in your case, but fear I would have to get at the end of a long line. Thanks for being the sort of woman that male chauvinists always insisted that a women in so-called authority would be. God, please butch up before you embarrass us any further.
6. To the “Reverend” Jesse Jackson; please make yourself useful. Sit down with Mayor Nagin and review New Orleans’ disaster preparedness plan with him. Please pay special attention to the bits about stocking emergency shelters with food, and water, evacuating the sick and elderly, and the use of publicly owned transport to do so. Also, pay special attention to the bit about how long it will take the federal authorities to arrive in force.
7. To “Hizzonor” Mayor Nagin; I’d be laughing at your impromptu performance of the old Coasters’ hit “Along Came Jones”, if your crisis-management skills hadn’t worked out on so many embarrassingly inept— and probably fatal levels. I haven’t seen such appalling news footage since – well, the last humanitarian disaster in a less-than-third-world country. Obviously, you are doing the “Sweet Sue” (Oh, hep me, hep me! He’s tying me up again!) whilst General Honore plays the part of the stalwart rescuer . (See note 4, above.) Frankly, I hope most of your constituents relocate permanently in cities where a simple desire to have a stable job, an adequate housing situation, a police force that can be distinguished from the local gang-bangers, and crisis managers who can actually manage a crisis may actually be indulged. You might be able to win re-election to mayoral office after this. But I cannot imagine where, or by what turn of machine politics.
8. So many idiots, so little bandwidth.
Sincerely
Sgt Mom
PS As always, those are not “scare” quote marks— they are “viciously skeptical” quote marks.

06. September 2005 · Comments Off on This makes my eyes water…. · Categories: A Href, Domestic, General, Home Front

..in a good way. 🙂

Baldilocks pointed me to a Guardian online article.

excerpt:

Asian Countries Offer U.S. Hurricane Aid
Tuesday September 6, 2005 2:31 PM
AP Photo XLEE102
By ROHAN SULLIVAN
Associated Press Writer

BANGKOK, Thailand (AP) – Some of the world’s poorest nations – Bangladesh, Afghanistan and tsunami-hit Thailand – have offered the United States aid and expertise to deal with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

While some of these aid pledges were small compared with the millions of dollars and heavy machinery promised by Europe, they come from nations with far less to give and are symbolic recognition of the role U.S. aid has played in their development.

Bangladesh, one of the world’s poorest countries, where millions of people live on a monsoon- and flood-prone delta, pledged $1 million to Katrina’s victims and offered to send specialist rescuers to inundated areas, the Foreign Ministry said.

The list of countries mentioned in the article: Bangladesh, Thailand, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Honduras, Mexico, Peru, Cuba, Venezuela, & Singapore.

05. September 2005 · Comments Off on ON THE ROAD AGAIN! · Categories: Ain't That America?, Good God, Home Front

After a long, hot day, exhausted, tired of driving, I’m grateful for the nice hot shower and a cot to sleep on, where it’s air conditioned. This may well be the last I see of these wonderful comforts that so many of us, including myself, take for granted, for a few days.

This will probably be my last attempt at blogging for a couple of weeks or so, as after tonight I will be in the area where so much is needed and my efforts just seem so small. I just pray that whatever I may be able to do in the coming days, that it will make some people’s lives more bearable.

To recap, Lovely, wonderful Nurse Jenny’s precious sister, Janis the Great, who is married to Good Ole Mikey (Who grew up across the street from me with his brother and my best friend for life, Johnny), lent us their second car so I could take Sweet Nurse Jenny’s SUV and recover this trip. So far, so good!

I finished transferring things over from my poor, KO’d van last night (Sunday) about 10 PM, then hit the sheets, ever so mindful that I at least had sheets. God, please let me never again forget to be thankful! I don’t think my head had hit the pillow before I was out like a light. The alarm was set for 5 AM, but I think I drop-kicked the clock out the door, and got up about 7. I was on the road by 9, and made a stop in Atlanta to pick up one more radio – I think that gives me a total of about 6 – and then on to Birmingham. First-born – and only – son – lives here, and is senior pastor for Calvary Temple Assembly of God in the Hoover suburb. I’m staying with them tonight, and enjoying every minute with our two teenage grandsons…..

NEWS FLASH! LOVELY DAUGHTER IN COLORADO HAS ANNOUNCED HER UPCOMING WEDDING! TO A JOE! That means that now we will have three Joes in this family….) Now, where was I?….hee hee hee…..

Number One Son had steaks on the grill when I arrived, much appreciated, for sure. After supper, I finished setting up the radios for maximum benefit, and off to the shower. Tomorrow morning, it will be off to the war zone, and I will let everyone know how it goes, when I get back to BHam.

In the mean time, your prayers will be highly prized, and for those of you who helped make this trip possible, my gratitude knows no bounds. I just hope that the radio messages I pass will ease the heartaches of all with whom I meet. Those of you, my friends, who pray, ask only that I will do my best to help, and that many other ham radio operators will jump into the fray.

    FOR THE HAMS

: My call sign is W 1 F K Y, /mobile W5. Look for me on 75 meters; 3965, 3835, and wherever the GCHEN (GULF COAST HURRICANE EMERGENCY NET) happens to be meeting. On 40 meters, 7265, I’m told, is the primary frequency. I don’t know about 20 or above. I will probably be operating physically somewhere between Fairhope, AL, and Slidell, LA. Prime contact will be MEMA, AEMA, LEMA, and FEMA.

Again, many, many thanks to those of you who helped, and God bless each of you!

05. September 2005 · Comments Off on Gas Companies Beware · Categories: Ain't That America?, Good God, Home Front

I was just reading through my daily emails and one of the inspirational newsletters I get was doing a compare and contrast to the hoodlums of The San Fransisco Earthquake/Fire of 1906 and of Katrina from last week. The common denominator being that the folks that lost their minds came from poor areas. That was interesting in and of itself but then the cleric who writes these newsletters started in on the gas companies and took them to task for raising gas prices. This is the first time I can remember him going after any group of folks like this.

From “Watch the Hoodlums,” A Mountain Wings Original.

Perhaps the real disaster was neither Katrina nor the earthquake.
It was the conditions that created such neighborhoods in the
first place while all around them was excessive wealth.

Perhaps that is the real disaster, and perhaps the real hoodlums
don’t live in poor neighborhoods. The real hoodlums don’t use
ghetto guns. They don’t shoot at helicopters; they own them.

There is nothing wrong with being rich. But there is something
wrong with getting richer and exploiting others to make yourself
wealthier beyond what you will ever need or spend.

Tell me if you don’t feel robbed when you fill up your car.

Tell me if you don’t feel robbed when you get your heating bill
this winter and it is double the high bills of last year.

Tell me if you don’t feel robbed when you can’t afford the gas
to get to work or to take your child to baseball practice.

If you can’t afford the gas to get to work, guess which
neighborhood you are headed to?

While you were watching people wade down the street with a few
purloined items, did you notice that YOUR wallet was much lighter?

A real good pickpocket takes your money, and you don’t realize
he’s got it.

It’s called the art of distraction.

So sit back in your easy chair and watch the hoodlums.

I saw O’Reilly foaming at the mouth about this the other night but I’m not sure anyone’s really paying attention to him anymore, but when a man who normally spends his days writing inspirational bits to brighten your day turns his guns on you, I’m thinkin’ that perhaps the Oil Companies need to start paying attention.

04. September 2005 · Comments Off on Crescent City Requiem #4 · Categories: Domestic, General, Home Front

Old St. Louis Cemetary, 1920ies

From my collection of antique postcards…

(This is where the careers of some local politicans in the “Big Easy” may very well wind up… however hard they are trying to shift it off onto practically anyone else.)

04. September 2005 · Comments Off on Kids of Katrina Part II · Categories: Ain't That America?, Home Front

Okay, “Kids of Katrina” over at A Small Victory has moved and has spilled over into other things for the kids. Michele’s also got good links for other ways to get supplies down that way, all of them kid-centric.


04. September 2005 · Comments Off on Katrina Around the Blogosphere · Categories: A Href, General, Home Front

Ran across this interesting blog post today, whilst surfing and trying to catch up with Katrina blogs after a week on the road.

The blogger, whom I assume is named Eric, since the blog name is “Eric’s Grumbles before the grave,” says that the aftermath of Katrina is showing us the natural result of 70 years of government dependence.

A sampling of his thoughts:

We have empowered our government to make us into dependent children over the past 70 years, give or take a day or two, and it shows. Tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of people were as effectively isolated from their state and national government by this disaster as if they lived on the American frontier 150 years ago. No matter how dramatically and quickly the various government entities had responded, many of these people would have been isolated from food, water, law enforcement and health care for days. Let’s talk about some of the current problems and criticisms and then we’ll tackle why those criticisms are simply ignoring the blindingly obvious truth of the correct direction to go, both in disaster relief specifically and governance much more generally.

Baldilocks (always a fave read) is adding a Katrina support agency link to each of her posts, regardless of its topic (except for the post announcing Rehnquist’s passing). Baldi also linked to another site that is calling for RVers to donate the use of their vehicles that would otherwise sit idle all winter, and for RV sites to donate unused hookups. Living in a trailer is better than living in a sports stadium, I think.

Please consider donating, for long-term use, your idle RV or travel trailer. We are opening our park to our good neighbors from Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama who have lost so much in Hurricane Katrina. We have RV hookups available for their use, but we don’t have RVs. Your donation can make all the difference in the world to people who are looking for a place to call home for a few weeks or months as they sort through the aftermath. It’s absolutely crucial that we all work together to help out our friends and family. Please email (info@buckbrazos.com) or call (254-898-2825) if you’re able and willing to help out. We can help make arrangements for getting your RV or fifth-wheel to our place. Buck loves to drive.

This is the weekend that bloggers are holding a donation drive for Katrina, as well. I learned about it from Baldilocks, but it’s being hosted/coordinated/tracked at TTLB. And it was from following a link on that site, that I ran across Eric’s post that started this entry of mine. If you have donated, or do donate, please log your contributions there, especially if you donated as a result of someone’s blog entry. This started as a one-day deal, similar to what was done back in Jan for the Tsunami survivors, and the response was so huge that they extended it through the holiday weekend.

Their stats as of this posting:

$714,139 in contributions so far
1,659 blogs participating
221 charities recommended

If you’ve not given yet, please give what you can, when you can. If all you can afford are prayers, then offer those. They help too. And remember, while there’s a tremendously generous outpouring right now, the need will still be here months from now. So if you can afford ongoing donations, that’s a good idea, as well.

On a more personal note, I was supposed to have lunch with Joe Comer today, but my work schedule changed, so he obligingly flexed his schedule as well, and we were going to meet at a Cracker Barrel last night, since we would both be in Atlanta. I was very disappointed to hear that he had only gotten as far as Macon, but I know we’ll get together another time – I’m thinking we’re only about 200 miles away from each other, and *everyone* comes to Atlanta at some point.

03. September 2005 · Comments Off on when a plan doesn’t come together · Categories: General, Home Front, My Head Hurts

Well, the best laid plans…..I left today enroute to help with rescue and communications in the gulf coast. Sorry folks, I only made it 100 miles. As I approached Macon, GA, the transmission on my van gave up the ghost. I was loaded to the gills with stuff for the folks out there and my own survival items, so now I may have to find another way to get things out there. As for me going, that’s out. Last time I replaced a transmission it ran $1700, and I have already spent all I had on things to take out there. The van is gonna sit under my carport for a month or so while I try to find a way to get a new (or used) transmission.

You never know…..I’m just glad it didn’t wait until I was in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, to let go. It cost me almost $400 to get it transported back home by rollback truck, so that’s it for now. What devastates me is not being able to do the job I know so well how to do. I don’t care about the truck, I just wish I could have done my job.

More later…..Right now, I’m going to go crawl into a deep hole. I can’t help those people who have nothing, and that’s the absolute worst for me….

Pray for the people who lost it all, friends!

01. September 2005 · Comments Off on You Deserve a Break, Today · Categories: Ain't That America?, General, Home Front

From all Katrina, all the time…

It’s official… I have spotted the first holiday catalogue of the season. It was in my mailbox this afternoon.
September 1… and three months and 25 days of shopping left until Christmas, courtesy of this fine establishment.
(Of course, I can’t afford any of the stuff I want until I land the well-paid executive assistant job… but I can dream can’t I?)

01. September 2005 · Comments Off on Soldier’s Angels and Katrina Relief · Categories: Home Front

From Blackfive:

Because many of the Soldiers from the Louisana Army National Guard will be returning home in the next few weeks, Soldiers’ Angels is mobilizing some efforts to help. It’ll take a bit to get ramped up so please stay tuned.

All I can say is that I can’t imagine what those troops are going through right now – after a year in a combat zone to come home to this disaster – it will be tough on them.

Here’s the link-

Operation Katrina Relief Fund

Hurricane Katrina has devastated New Orleans and South Louisiana. The homes and lives of an untold number of our friends and families have been decimated. Included in the ranks of victims are the family members of our soldier’s serving in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Many of these soldiers will be returning home in the next few weeks to find that their families have been displaced and their homes and businesses destroyed.

Soldier’s Angels has established a relief fund to help our soldiers and their families cope with and recover from this devastation. Your donation will help these families obtain essential personal items, temporary shelter and any other needs that can be met. Soldier’s Angels will also work to provide information to the soldiers concerning their families whereabouts and needs. Now is the time to help protect those who have given up so much to protect us.

If you can help, please do so.

* Call us at 626 398 3131
* Email us at soldiersangels@gmail.com

For monetary donations, please mail a check or money order made out to Soldier’s Angels to:

Soldier’s Angels Foundation
Operation Katrina Relief
1792 East Washington Blvd.
Pasadena, California 91104

01. September 2005 · Comments Off on HERKYBIRDMAN TO THE RESCUE! · Categories: Home Front, Media Matters Not

Come Sunday, after lunch with our friend APROUDVETERAN, I will be leaving home and comfort for the devastated Gulf Coast. Every prayer you, my friends, can utter will be appreciated, as I do my best to provide communications from the area.

I have been a ham radio operator since I was 12, and besides flying, it is one of my favorite hobbies. (My call sign is W1FKY) I am now getting my radio equipment ready, and loading survival supplies, food, and water, into my van for the trip. This is not my first time. It started in 1961, with Hurricane Carla, while I was at Lackland AFB, TX. I rode out that storm at the base MARS station, passing messages, and ever after I was hooked. I did the same in 1962 at Keesler AFB, and in 1979, while living in New Orleans, went to Mississippi and Alabama to provide communications for Sheriff’s offices and emergency operations centers.

In 1989, when Hurricane Hugo hit the Carolinas, I took Nurse Jenny with me and we spent nearly a month camped out in a washed-out fire station, not only operating radios, but giving Emergency Medical Services in the small town of McClellanville, SC. That was one for the record books!

I expect to spend 2 weeks in the area, and will blog as much as possible, but I may not be able to get an internet connection until I get back out of the area. OK, guys, here we go!

31. August 2005 · Comments Off on What’s The Military Doing for Katrina? · Categories: Home Front

Greyhawk has the answer.

18. August 2005 · Comments Off on Suck it up, Cindy! · Categories: Ain't That America?, General, General Nonsense, Home Front

Enough, already! If I never again hear the name of Cindy Sheehan, that will be too soon. I have no problems with anyone who is opposed to the war, in fact no one in their right mind would be in favor of war. War is messy, people get killed and hurt, and countries get laid waste. But, there are times when even the most hated thing becomes necessary, and this, I fear, is one of those times.

Ms. Sheehan has the right, as does anyone, to protest. But, we have heard her, and it’s time to move on. She has allowed herself to get wrapped up with some not-so-nice organizations, and that is a shame. At first, folks would have said, “OK, she’s in grief over the death of her son.” And, who wouldn’t be? But as things progressed, and we found out that the President had already met with her once, I began to question why he should grant her another meeting. He’s a busy man. Even on vacation, he has to work, his responsibilities don’t end, and she should have had enough sense to realize that her demands were not going to be met, especially by anyone like GW.

As I was writing this, FNC announced that she was leaving because her mother has had a stroke. I’m sorry about her mother, and I feel for Ms. Sheehan, who should have been with her family instead of tilting at windmills while her mom got sick. We can now just hope the other nutcases will leave Crawford and go home, let the President get some rest, and give the rest of us some peace. No doubt, the media will go hunting around for the next thing to talk about hour after hour, boring the crap out of us all.

So, what’s next?

10. July 2005 · Comments Off on The Ongoing Quest for Meaningful Employment: Pt 1 · Categories: Domestic, General, Home Front, Military

This last Friday, at the workforce commission office, I asked the veteran’s counselor for an honest answer: “What does veteran status, really, really get you, as a potential employee?”
To which he replied,
“You get a preference with the state or the federal government. Other than that, all it means, is you get to see a counselor ahead of all those people out there.”

Which kind of confirmed the impression I already had, from my last three or four adventures in job-hunting— that all those glossy, uplifting TV spots we used to air on AFRTS about employers looking on us veterans with special favor— are pretty much a crock. Unless the business is owned by a veteran, or there are enough other veterans already employed to tilt corporate perceptions favorably, you are pretty much judged on the strength— or lack of it— on your resume. I only ever walked into one job, and was hired on the spot because of status as a veteran— and that job was a once-a-week gig, walking around the neighborhood next to mine, putting a local give-away newspaper on the front stoop of every house. Good exercise, but paid f**k-all. It was one of the four simultaneous part-time jobs that I held down just after retiring: the other three included up-scale retail sales, fill-in shifts at local public radio, and entering catalog data for company that sold classical music CDs. I also had some voice-over jobs; one day I walked into my bank with five paychecks, and the teller looked at me and said, “Lady, is there a place in this town where you don’t work?”

The catalogue job was the mainstay; fairly well paying, and the bennies included the pick of freebie CD releases brought around regularly by the distributors, but it didn’t last long enough to be included on my resume. The owners relocated, out of state and took only the office manager with them— all the rest of us readjusted our priorities in about fifteen minutes flat. The office manager lamented that the only reason we all seemed to show up was to use the fax machine to send out resumes, and our breaks and lunch hours to do interviews.

It took three weeks for me to find something else, but I wound up hating that job, the owner of the company, the working conditions, the owner of the company, my cubicle, the working conditions, the irregularity of bonuses, the owner of the company, the way I left every evening at five PM with a stress headache… oh, and I hated the owner of the company. Very little in life so far has given me the equal of the pleasure of giving my notice to him. I should have done so before and often…he was most marvelously civil to me for the last week. A year later I had to contact them again, regarding an IRA they had set up for employees… I discovered that in the space of a year I had been replaced three times over. (I had lasted two and a half years, the last year of it plotting my escape, like a prisoner in Colditz.)

That escape brought me to the job that has— like the catalogue job— just quit me. It is now just about history, although my salary is generously paid (and with luck, the checks will not bounce!) to the end of August. The office doors closed in the middle of June, and I went to working from home on getting the last bits of work done for clients. There are only two of them left with uncompleted work. I am waiting for them to do their part— when they finally come across with it, it will just be a bit of computer time, an-email to the printer, and a quick meeting at the management office which is very kindly letting me use their conference room for this purpose. My focus in the last two or three weeks has turned to my next bit of gainful employment which I pray will be… remunerative, interesting, and a twenty-minute commute away. (Thirty minutes, tops) Congenial surroundings, sensible bosses and co-workers who are not barking-at-the-moon nuts would be nice. Internet access would also be nice, but not essential.

This has been a very discouraging week. I had three very pleasant interviews late in June: one of which was for a job I would have liked very much; it was for a nice, up-and-coming enterprise newly come to San Antonio, which offered a good salary and benefits… alas, as it turns out, the company is transferring in one of their current employees for that position. This happens a lot, in San Antonio; it’s almost axiomatic that any really nice, plum jobs probably won’t go out locally. Having a story about the company, their new facility and their ambitious plans for the local market published on Friday in the local paper did not make me feel much better about it all. Thanks for the salt and the assurance to keep the resume on file. I had a file of old resumes in my desk at the old job. We never had call to look at them again, and they went into the big rolling canvas trash bin three weeks ago.

The second interview was… well, I liked the look of the place, and I would have enjoyed the work— I think!— but I didn’t feel good about how far out in the country it was. Given any sort of choice, I would have turned it down, regretfully, but they beat me to that. There are parties you don’t mind dumping, but you really feel offended at being dumped by…They sent me a letter thanking me for my trouble, but they were hiring someone else. They would, however, keep my resume on file. The third interview was a temp service, they think they can place me someplace; they’ll call me when they can set up an interview.

The only call I got last week, aside from strictly personal, was some asshole wanting to sell me a TV satellite service, and no, I am not in a very good mood, even if my salary is paid until the end of August, and I have spent three hours— like I have for the last couple of Sundays— answering various newspaper and on-line want-ads and filling out an assortment of on-line applications.

04. July 2005 · Comments Off on 4th of July: Helping Our Heroes · Categories: General, Home Front, Military

Daily Brief reader Emily Cochran writes “We have just launched a fundraising campaign to pull in $40,000 to meet recent requests for emergency cash grants from families of the wounded troops at Walter Reed …. we’re a non profit 501c3, have minimal overhead (it’s all donated), no paid staff, all of our money reaches our heroes….”

More here.

01. July 2005 · Comments Off on LET THE GAMES BEGIN! · Categories: Ain't That America?, General, Home Front

Well, well, now that Justice Sandra Day O’Connor has announced her retirement, it seems the race is on. The news(?) media are salivating all over themselves and rolling around in orgasmic happiness. Democrats in the Senate are gearing up, I hear, for the fight of the century, no matter who President Bush selects to fill her seat on the Supreme Court. Republican Senators, on the other hand, are getting set to push to the wall to get the President’s pick confirmed.

As for me, all I ask is that Sgt Mom pass the popcorn, I’m just gonna sit back and watch these dreary old men (and women) make total asses out of themselves, if they can be bigger idiots than they are now. As I said in the beginning, let the games begin!

25. June 2005 · Comments Off on IF NOT GITMO, THEN WHERE? · Categories: General, GWOT, Home Front, Stupidity, War

The raging debate over the use of Guantanamo prison to hold detainees such as those who are there now, whom the government calls enemy combatatants, lacks perspective. There is no sense of judgement on the side of those who oppose Gitmo, as to what we should do with the detainees. According to our military authorities, the 550 or so prisoners there are dangerous, and would kill Americans if released. At least one case of this has been confirmed, with one raghead found on the battlefield who had been released, and there are probably more instances that we ordinary citizens just don’t know about. So, what do we do?

All I hear, coming from the left and from various other America-haters, is that we should close the prison. No one that I’ve heard from, has suggested what we should do with the detainees, and that is the question that must be answered before the controversy moves even one inch from its present position. Unless we put these folks on some uncharted south sea island, with no means of escape, perhaps the best idea is to leave them right where they are. Torture? I don’t think so. The evidence indicates that, from the food they eat, to the deference shown their so-called “holy book,” the qu’ran, they seem to be treated far more humanely and even with more respect, than they deserve. These guys are prisoners for Pete’s sake! And here we are, putting on display just how good they have it, better than the soldiers guarding them. And reports are, that all of them have gained weight! ARRRGGGHH!

Let’s let the President end the debate, leave them at Gitmo, with a few changes: (1) a little less appealing food in the prison diet. I think PBJ sandwiches a couple of days a week for the evening meal, might be appropriate — replacing the fish almondine. (2) Hard labor. Get them out of their cells, put them in a deep rock pit, and give them hammers with the order to make little ones out of big ones. A six-day work schedule of 12-hour days, somewhat like I had to work in Southeast Asia a few years ago, might be the ticket. (3) No TV or radio. Get rid of the luxuries, let them be a bit less informed, and with them tired out from the work schedule, they might not be so interested in starting trouble. (4) Let them have some hope of going home. At the age of eighty-five, provided they have not caused any trouble for the past 20 years, they could be released. Any detainee released, who gets back into trouble fighting against the US, would face automatic execution, no appeals, just fry ’em.

Maybe, with less pampering and more prison-like environments, these idiot camel jockeys might feel a little less inclined to make jihad against us, and they may quake in their boots instead of grinning when the name of America is mentioned. Just a few ideas, maybe somebody has a few more?

18. June 2005 · Comments Off on OLD MEMORIES SMELL LIKE SMOKE, PART TWO · Categories: Ain't That America?, General Nonsense, Home Front, Local, Memoir, Working In A Salt Mine...

Being on the fire department in the small village of York, Maine, was really an experience, and for those who lived there, somewhat of a status symbol. If your origins were from somewhere other than York, it was nearly impossible, thus a statement of acceptance if you succeeded. I was really happy to have been accepted as a “probie,” the one-year probationary period.

It wasn’t all societal, it was serious business. I actually got involved because of a fire that included a fatality. Nurse Jenny, in those days, wasn’t a nurse, but a dispatcher on the York Public Safety Communications Center, and I was the Motorola Tech Rep for the area, involved with supplying the communications equipment and assuring that it all worked. The VFD probationary period was a time of a lot of learning. Fire technology, hydraulics, water pressure, fire ground operations, so many classes, and all that just to volunteer to fight fires.

Parenthetically, I would volunteer to fight fires on a number of departments after York, the last one being while back on Air Force AD, in Monument, Colorado. What I learned in York would make me a good firefighter, and some of it would save my life in some touchy situations.

The “white coat incident” mentioned in part one was really embarrassing, and it was a touchstone of ribbing for a long time afterwards. Well, you gotta have something!

One important aspect of fighting fires is speed. Getting there fast, getting set up fast, getting water on the fire as fast as you safely can. One day, about three months into my probie period, there was a small fire near my house, a situation in which I responded in my car, and got my coat and helmet off the truck. Engine. What am I thinking! Truck is ladder, engine is pumper, for the uninitiated! OK, got my gear on, and grabbing the nozzle, in I went. The fire was out quickly, and I quickly found out my big mistake. Someone told me to get that white coat off, unless I was really a chief in disguise. OOPS! Without thinking, I had grabbed a white coat, which is an officer’s garb. Now, they’re really serious about that. It was the deputy chief’s coat, and my putting it on was the source of so much ribbing and teasing for a long time. You can be assured, from that time on, I paid attention to the color of coats in the locker!

Fighting fires is fun, or at least it is something that gets in your blood. This -Vidalia, GA – is the only place that we’ve lived since York in the 70’s, that I haven’t served on a fire department. Just can’t do it, since getting injured on my job as a paramedic in 1995. I hate to have to stand still when I hear a siren, but we get old, and sometimes we have to ease up on the throttle!

But, as Elroy commented on the last post, those were great days, and the fire department folks in York were some of the finest people I’ve ever served with! York Volunteer Fire Department, I salute you every one!

15. June 2005 · Comments Off on Old Memories smell Like Smoke, Some of the Time, Part One · Categories: Ain't That America?, Home Front, Memoir, Working In A Salt Mine...

I’m watching the new series on Discovery, “Firehouse.” Set in Boston, it’s examining, tonight, at least, the house containing Engine 37 and truck (ladder) 26 and their life during one shift, which is 24 hours. Ohh, this brings back some memories, some very bittersweet memories! Anyone who hasn’t been a firefighter can’t have even a clue of what it’s like. The life of a firefighter is like no other on earth, and once bitten, it’s a bug that can’t be shed….I was a firefighter, about three lifetimes ago, it seems, but yes, there was a time,,,,

York, Maine, and the year was 1972. This was the year I began my break in active service, having come home from Thailand and going to the AF Reserve at Pease AFB, NH. Funny, I was assigned to maintain the very same tankers (KC-135’s) that I had worked on only four years before, on active duty! Seems both of us got off A/D at about the same time!. So, here I was, with an impossible dream and a more impossible schedule set up to get me there.

The first dream was to get myself through college, and for that purpose, I was enrolled in New Hampshire College, at Portsmouth (NH) High School, classes at night, and for the next six years I would hit the books hard. Maybe, if my pals Elroy Moulton or George Lariviere, check on here, they might verify that, as Elroy and I were going through much of the same courses together, and for part of the time, I worked with George. Something great clicked between myself and George and Elroy, a friendship that has endured a lot of years, and a closeness of our wives and children as well. Both families have proven to be folks that we love, and that still prevails after all these years…wonderful!

The next dream, to work in the civilian electronics field, was to come true as well, some of that thanks to George, as he was working for a company that was able to supply part of the hope, a small company called General Sound and Visual, Inc. I have to say, the company was really pleasant to work for, all the people great folks, and I have fond memories of that experience.

The fire department….Hmmm, the fire department. One of my neighbors when I moved to York was a fire fighter, and he got me interested. So, I started hanging out with firemen, got to know a few, and one day put in my application to join the York Volunteer Fire Department. You gotta understand; this was a great status symbol in York. Belonging to the fire department was a sign that you had arrived, that you had been accepted into the society of the small village of some 3,000 goode people. Now, being from the south, even though I had spent some 4 years in New England already, made it somewhat of a challenge to become one of the “chosen”. I could have cared less about the “society” aspects, one of my hangouts was a coffee shop across from the firehouse, and I just filled with adrenalin when those trucks hauled tail outta there! I just had to be a firefighter!

Next Time: The White Coat Bites Me!

05. June 2005 · Comments Off on Graduation controversy at Petaluma High · Categories: Home Front, Military

There’s a story here of a graduating high school senior and recent Marine boot camp grad who is not being allowed to wear his Marine uniform to graduation. Well, he can wear it, but he has to wear his cap and gown over it.

I read the story at The Education Wonks, where I also left a comment. Here’s an excerpt:

… I’d have to agree with the Marines, who said that the young man should conform to the wishes of the school.

One thing that Mr. Kiernan (either the son or father, take your pick) will come to understand about the military is that they appreciate the importance of tradition, including the traditions of other institutions. Tradition for high school graduation is no different in this respect. The principal even adopted the right tone: cap and gown is the “uniform of the day.”

My concern is that this story has the potential to become one of those that travels around the internet as a tale of the anti-military attitude of public school officials. I hope not. Sounds to me like the prinicpal has done nothing that I would consider anti-military, and it appears that the Marines agree. It’s certainly nothing like the story of the Georgia principal I wrote about last week who wouldn’t let a Marine visit a Middle School classroom.

In the end, it sounds like a gracious compromise has been reached:

A possible solution to the whole dilemma, “to pacify a lot of flames that have been brought up with veterans groups,” would be for the high school to announce Kiernan’s military status when they read his name, the Marine Sgt. said.

I’d be curious what others think, but really, do you want to argue with a Marine Sgt?