Attending Seal's Memorial in Virginia Beach: An Honor

August 25, 2011 was the date of the Seal's Memorial  held in Virginia Beach. I wanted to attend, even though I had other responsibilities at home in Durham, North

Carolina. My meeting didn't end that night at the hospital until after 8pm, so I hurried home to northern Durham, and mounted my already prepared motorcycle for the first leg of the journey.

Riding at night is something I don't like to do. Vision is not always the best, and if you go fast enough (I'm not exactly certain how fast that is) you  can "over-ride" your light, and not have adequate distance to stop before a collision. Anyway, as usual with these "missions," this was an important one for me, and I was determined to make it there to pay my respect to these brave soldiers. 

As I made it to Interstate 85, and gunned it up to about 70mph, I took a good look around--it was dark (and fortunately  not a stormy night)! I worried about that, but compensated with some EXTRA vigilance. The one advantage was that there weren't many cars on the road at that time, so I didn't have to watch out for the careless driver. I always follow the rule that "they don't see me" and I think that's a good rule. But at night, it's not the drivers I worry about. It's the animals!

I only saw a couple of deer on the side of the road on my way up--I spent the night

in Emporia, Va.--and they seemed to stay there because of the noise my bike made. Found a Sleep Inn, and hit the sack about 11pm.

I knew the next morning was going to be an early one, as the "briefing" for the mission to the Memorial was going to be at 7am, so I got up at 5, and prepaired to leave at 5:30. The ride should take about 1 and 1/2 hours according to my GPS, and if I pushed it a bit, I might even get there a bit early.

On the road that morning it was still dark, but I was riding east, and I could see the dawn beginning to develop as I rode along US 58. There are numerous police along this road, so I had to be careful. Heading into the populated area of Va. Beach, heightened my awareness because of all the drivers on their way to work: in a hurry, talking on the phone, listening to the radio, and dreaming of their day's work ahead. Again, "they just don't see me."

They had changed the place of the staging the night before to a Big K parking lot on 1st Colonial Drive, and when I approached that location, I was pleased to see  a mass of motorcycles. I pulled in and listened as the mission was described.

There is always an emphasis on safety with these missions because no one wants any accidents and riding with a line of 100+ motorcycles through an urban environment has its hazards. I later found out that the final location for the Memorial was kept "secret" until just prior to the event. I'm not certain why, except the possible risk of a demonstration-- by the Kansas wackos or someone else that does not understand  the sacrifices of our military and the sensitivities of family members caught in such tragedies.

Once the briefing was completed, we mounted up and left for the convention center in Virginia Beach.  Pulling onto the main drag in front of this massive building, the 1000 sailors from the aircraft carrier Theodore Roosevelt presented a magnificent spectacle: standing at attention about three feet apart along the curb with their smart navy blue dress uniforms. We parked our bikes, and dismounted, forming a like line on the opposite side of the street with each of us holding a 3x5 American flag. 

As I stood there, pondering the enormity of this event, I couldn't but help to think about the many aspects of this experience. Studying the uniforms of the sailors, I became aware of the many decorations (red stripes, green stripes--not certain what they are actually called-- different hats, different stripes on different locations on their uniforms and insignias on their sleeves). I have never been in the military, but it was clear that each person in the military knew the rank of everyone they ran into simply by what they were wearing. Everyone had their "place" in this system, and that, I believe, gives it a special sense of social order; something needed when you are in combat. 

It civilian life we "try" to do the same thing, don't we? We do it by the clothes we wear, or the jewelery we wear, or the car we drive, or where we live, or the big one is what we DO! But when you finally come down to it, it doesn't get to the most important part of each one of us, and that's what we ARE--What is our moral compass, our sensitivities, our emotions, our personality. That's all that is important in the end isn't it.

I was honored to go there and stand for these heroes. I was fortunate enough to

receive a copy of the program for the service. It is sad to read. Each one of these heroes was very highly trained, young, highly decorated, and from my perspective represented the best and the brightest that our military has to offer. They left many children without a father, and  wives without a husband, and they were young enough, that they left parents without a son. What a sad, sad loss. I was glad I took the time (glad I had the time) to go there and pay my respects in any way I could. I hope we all take the time to do that in our own way.

I have thought about these deaths now in some detail, and obviously, I don't know all the facts, but from my perspective, this catastrophe could be avoided by following one simple rule: "don't put all your eggs in one basket."

Now I'll admit that I don't know how urgent the need was for reinforcements, and what was available to accomplish this goal, but next time it might be wise to send them in in smaller helicopters, one at a time, to see what the situation is. My guess is that that's being considered.

My readers don't have the program for the Memorial as I do, and you can't read about these individuals that were taken in this accident. I can only tell you that they don't make 'em any better. God bless them and their families and all our thanks, gratitude and respect to them and their families for their  ultimate sacrifice for all of us.

Stuff

I retired this past January. Recently,  I realized that I needed to retire, not because I as tired of my job, or, fortunately, not because of illness, but because I needed time to manage all the STUFF --I haven't even mentioned my wife-- I have accumulated over my

68 years of living.

All of us accumulate stuff as we go down the road. Books are a big one. I think we have enough books in our house to make the foundation sink a couple of inches each year. I have imagined our second floor collapsing and crushing the contents of our first floor--might solve a few problems wouldn't it? It's hard to get rid of books. You just might need that one in the future even though you have not looked or thought about it for 10 years. It's just too difficult to throw them away.

There is something sacred about books, and anyone who has a modicum of respect for academics will understand that designation. Even if you are desperate for extra space you can never burn a book as that conjures up images of the Nazis, and no one with the tiniest bit of understanding of history would welcome that label. So you might try to sell them, and lug them to the library for donation, or place them in your garage--bad idea--or loan them to other people. "Would you like to borrow my copy of Wood Carving for the Amateur?" Thank God for ebooks.

But remember, books are just one type of stuff. There are many others. There's furniture (a difficult one to get rid of because styles change), and tools, and souvenirs, and ridiculous pictures you took on trips, and 50 pairs of shoes (wife's problem), and your old underwear (lets stop there).

Because we moved to the "country" about 6 years ago, I had to buy a truck. You can't live in the country and not own a truck. I had never owned a truck, and I discovered that when you drive one, you feel like you are accomplishing something. What, I don't know, but you just get that feeling, and it's good. Besides that satisfying feeling I got, I realized that a truck is part of the passage of life: you grow up, get married, move into a bigger house, possibly move again, and accumulate stuff. At that stage, it's time for a truck so you can move your stuff around. Forget moving it around in your house, you can now move your stuff around the country. That's living.


Over the past few years, as I have accepted my aging, and become aware of my accumulated stuff. I have begun to imagine that the pattern of life may be the gradual accumulation of stuff. At some point, as one gets old enough, one just doesn't have the strength to even get rid of all your stuff, and you just have to wait until you die; then someone else has to get rid of your stuff. It's going to be easier for them though, because they don't have all those "attachments" that you have. Oh, they will have some attachments maybe to your old high  school yearbook--if they can recognize you in any of the pictures--but as they climb over
your mountain of stuff, those "attachments" will rapidly evaporate. Anyway, the longest that "attachment" will last is one more generation anyway, then they will certainly get rid of your stuff. They might even burn some of it.

One rule to help me get rid of stuff has been if I haven't used something for at least 5 years, I should seriously consider getting rid of it. Oh, maybe that will be 10 years as it's a little easier on one's psyche.

There was someone who didn't have to consider any of these issues, and that was the Pharaohs of Egypt. When they died and were buried,  all there stuff was buried with them (I think sometimes including wives and pets). Some might think that was a mark of privilege, but I don't think so. I think the problem with that "privilege" is that they still didn't get rid of their STUFF!

Thoughts on South Shore High School's 50 Year Reunion

A little over two weeks ago, I attended a 50 year high school reunion. I flew up to Chicago with my wife for the week end, and attended a Friday night dinner for the January class (about 120 graduates in 1961), and a Saturday night dinner in the city
which included the June class (about 350 graduates in 1961). I have pondered this experience for two weeks now, and have wondered what I might record as pertinent observations about this unique experience.

Well, I have been spurred on by an email I received today. It was a well written article by someone who hated high school. Thick glasses, braces on her teeth, and a poor social life made her feel marginalized from the joys of others, and she debated whether or not to go to her 50th, but finally chose to attend.

Fortunately for her, her recent experience was the antithesis of her torture some 50 years ago. She received complements about her current appearance and even her social participation in that long forgotten experience of adolescent formation. I would like to add some different comments from another perspective about this deep-reaching experience.

I, and, I believe  many of my friends, had a glorious experience in high school. Looking back, I can only say, we were fortunate, and had each been given many gifts (the kind we may get throughout life if we are "lucky") that propelled us into the arena of enjoyment and fulfillment. For this I am profoundly grateful.  Sports, academics, social life, and spiritual development were blossoms that yielded an abundance of fruit that nourished me into my future.

I must admit, that all of this was dependent upon the people I was with and good fortune. South Shore was an idyllic environment, full of resourceful people with vivid imaginations and dogged determination to push ahead into the always uncertain future. There was no drug problem, no excessive violence, and no weapons, and we didn't know White Castles might give us atherosclerosis--I still miss them in North Carolina.  There was, at that time,  a spirit of astounding personal growth that pointed many of us towards a future of what we believed was unlimited opportunity. This was not to come as a given, but our work ethic was developed by this environment, and we knew that it would only materialize if we continued down a road of continued diligence.

Returning to the reunion, these impressions were reinforced by the "successful" and well rounded (not referring to our bodies) classmates I had the time to speak with. Lawyers, dentists, doctors, teachers, business men and women, all the vocations of life seemed to be represented. What a contribution to others we have had the opportunity to give; contributions that have sprouted from the spiritual and nurturing environment of South Shore High School.

When I look back, and now, into the future, I am most thankful for the gifts all of

us had at that long ago time some 50 years past. I am thankful that those of us who attended are still here to be able to "look back" and appreciate our favored past and each other. I would hope this experience will inspire us to continue to give to others. As times may get more difficult for each of as we go down this road to the "next reunion" it will be prudent to remember South Shore and count the gifts we received from this distinctive school and its special people. Thank you South Shore, and thank you all.

Balancing Our Priorities: A Difficult, but Important Decision

I did not even know about it before I read the editorial in today's Wall Street Journal, but I agree we
 http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424053111903999904576466411161774824.html?mod=WSJ_Opinion_LEADTop 
are making a mistake if we don't continue to support the development of the James Webb Space Telescope.

I have been interested in astronomy since Halley's comet came here around 1986. I knew I wanted to see it--it only comes by once every 76 years, and there is something magical about that-- and it wasn't going to be "spectacular" so I had to learn something about astronomy to "find" it. So I started reading, and reading, and
the more I read, the "interestinger" it became. I actually flew down to the Kennedy Space Center to watch the launch of the Hubble, and when Congress canceled the Super Collider project in 1993, I was disappointed. Now, we have canceled the Space Shuttle, and there is a question of canceling this incredible project, the James Webb Space Telescope, that will have the capability of vastly increasing our knowledge of the Beginning of time.

Apparently, this telescope will open research into questions of the period of "first light": that time when first stars and galaxies firmed in our universe. It will give us the information necessary to pry into questions of the origins of black holes, dark matter, and the basic ideas of matter in our universe-- the fundamental questions we are here to probe.

I understand that we have many expenses now: Medicare, Social Security, defense, Medicaid, and numerous other Great Society programs that are draining our resources,

but mankind also has other priorities that seem, to me, to exist in a separate "universe" of priorities.

When I was in high school, Paul Levin's slogan as he ran for Student Council President (and he won) was "aim high." That was a good slogan then, and it fits this situation now. Mankind exists for some reason, and if anything matters, it is our continued journey into the question of WHY. Exploration of space is, I believe, one of our higher callings in this regard. It gives us as a people, a fundamental raison d'etre that makes perfect sense. When we abandon this quest, we denigrate ourselves as a people.

I hate to say it, but there will always be famine, and poverty, and war, and sickness. We can continue to drain our treasury for continued, sometimes appropriate efforts to stifle these Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, but there must be some awareness of other priorities. Science, in the long run may have a significant influence on mitigating these "horsemen" if we continue down this road of discovery.

How many youngsters were inspired to enter engineering, or science because of the Shuttle programs, or photos from the Hubble Space Telescope? Where will all those inquiring minds end up? Will they be the people to discover new agricultural techniques to feed the starving, or irrigate the barren drought ridden lands of Africa, or maybe ever discover a cure for cancer? We must continue to develop programs in science and discovery that encourage those minds to devote their intellectual energies to our struggles with the questions and the problems of the human race. Telescopes and projects like the James Webb Space Telescope will open these doors to youngsters, and we must not close them now.

Mankind has many priorities, but I believe we must not sacrifice those priorities that keep our minds, and the dreams of our youngest citizens open to the unlimited possibilities of creative human energies. Space exploration is just one of those areas that accomplishes this goal. Literally, we must continue to "aim high."