A single 9/11 tribute

On September 11, 2001, a 27-year-old woman called her stepmother from a hijacked plane and said words her family would never forget:

"It's going to be harder for you. I want you to be okay."

Just two days before making that heartbreaking phone call, Honor Elizabeth Wainio was enjoying the trip of a lifetime in Paris. She had traveled across Europe to attend a close friend's wedding in Florence, Italy, before spending time wandering through the beautiful streets of France. She enjoyed lunch near the Champs-Elysées and lit a candle inside a quiet church to honor her grandmother.

When she arrived back home in New Jersey, she was vibrant and full of life. Everyone called her Lizz. At twenty-seven, she worked as a district manager for Discovery Channel stores, and she was already looking forward to making homemade spaghetti and getting ready for an upcoming business trip to San Francisco.

Lizz boarded the cross-country flight that morning for work, traveling to California to visit several retail locations under her management. The morning sky was clear when Lizz boarded United Airlines Flight 93 at Newark International Airport. But around 9:28 AM, terrorists took control of the plane, pushing the terrified passengers toward the back of the cabin.

Unlike the passengers on the earlier hijacked flights, the people on Flight 93 were able to make phone calls and learn the devastating truth about what was happening across the country.

They learned that the Twin Towers in New York City and the Pentagon had already been struck.

They realized this was not a hostage situation with demands, but that the plane itself had been turned into a weapon.

During those tense moments, a fellow passenger passed an air phone to Lizz so she could speak to someone she loved. Lizz called her stepmother, Esther Heymann. Despite the danger, Lizz’s voice was remarkably calm and steady. She chose to focus on easing the grief of her loved ones rather than her own fear. During their conversation, Lizz also mentioned her grandmother, who had lived near the peaceful countryside in Pennsylvania, saying,

"I'm going to be with my grandmother."

Around 9:57 AM, the passengers decided to take action to stop the hijackers from reaching their intended target in Washington, D.C.  Todd Beamer prayed before saying his famous final words, "Let's Roll," as passengers banded together to storm the cockpit.

Right before the attempt to retake the plane began, Lizz spoke to her stepmother one last time.

"They're getting ready to break into the cockpit. I have to go. I love you. Goodbye."

Minutes later, Flight 93 crashed into an open field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The hijackers never reached their intended target because of the extraordinary bravery shown by the people on board.

Lizz is remembered not just for how her life ended, but for the profound love and selflessness she displayed in her final moments. True heroes are not only defined by their grand actions, but by the quiet ways they protect the hearts of those they love.  Lizz gave her family a forever gift of peace, teaching us all that even in our hardest moments, love has the power to carry us through.

In the face of unthinkable tragedy, Lizz chose connection over fear. Her gentle, loving spirit remains a beautiful reminder that no matter how vast the darkness may seem, the warmth of a simple "I love you" will always echo much louder.

From the authors of 'We Are Human Angels'

Why waste time here on this 6th of June

When you can go to The American Catholic for an update on the 82nd Anniversary of that Day of Days on June 6th, 1944.  Here, here, here and here are, as usual, some good reads.  

Like last year, I've seen no major MSM mention of it.  I'm sure a couple outlets have if you Google them and D-Day stories directly. But even Googling "D-Day" yielded nothing from any MSM outlets I saw, except the BBB if you count that. 

As I've said, WW2 had fallen to the wayside by the time I was entering high school and college in the 1980s.  Vietnam had become the pop culture starting point around which endless movies, shows, and class lessons were based.  WW2 got mention on the 10s.  That is, every 10th Anniversary year.  I recall in the early 90s (50th), there was significant coverage.  But only around the various key anniversary dates.

It would be Tom Brokaw's The Greatest Generation and Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan in the late 90s that threw WW2 back into the spotlight.  Up until that point, WW2  had been given about 70s movie style treatments at best.  The movie The Big Red One was about as gritty and explicit as you got for mainstream releases.  Then came the 80s and 90s and an upswing in graphic effects and depictions of violence.  Just in time for movies like Platoon and Full Metal Jacket.  But not for WW2.

Not until Saving Private Ryan.  For about two generations, WW2 was old John Wayne movies or adventure romps like The Guns of Navarone or even Kelly's Heroes.  It  therefore wasn't seen as being really bad, like Vietnam (as a college classmate once said). 

Well, SPR put the kibosh on that attitude.  Suddenly those old, stoic vets who were grandpa or great grandpa were cast in a new light.  It didn't hurt that, just as Band of Brothers was released, so came the  9/11 attacks.  Suddenly, patriotism was cool again, and the entire WW2 generation was examined in a new, and respectful light.

But that was then.  By the time of Covid, BLM, and 2020, it was time to rethink that generation oce again.  From the A-bombs to the strategic bombings in general to the segregation and internment camps to our Nazi friendly Jim Crow society (thank you Ken Burns), it shouldn't have come as a shock when the tweet featuring the famous beach landing on D-Day was labeled with the caption "Celebrating the anniversary of an army of white supremacists fighting an army of white supremacists'. I know due to backlash it was taken down, but the point remains. 

Now Trump, with his usual ham-fisted way, is bringing back patriotism in almost cartoonish ways.  Now it seems forced.  Though it has allowed some to push back against the Left's Taliban inspired iconoclasm juggernaut.  But in it all, like many such things can happen, the core of what we're supposed to remember seems to be forgotten.  Hence, even among some conservative sites, I've seen little about this. Many that are waving the flags do so as a sort of 'take that liberals', as opposed to focusing on the topic at hand, which doesn't really help.  But some are still remembering because of what should be remembered, which isn't a bad thing in itself. Because goodness knows, for all its flaws that every generation will have, there was a lot there on those beaches worth remember, if not emulating. 

Veterans Day

The reading of this in the film My Boy Jack always brings home Veterans Day and the risks and costs behind it: 

It's been said that the problem with 'Nothing to kill for' is that it is inevitably followed by 'Nothing to die for', which is a backhanded way of saying 'Nothing in this universe more important than me'.  As foundational as this is for our post-war secularized liberal society, it's antithetical to not just core Christian values, but the values shared by most of humanity throughout most of time.  

Yet when we see things like Veterans Day or Memorial Day or even the daily sacrifice or risk people take to help or save others, I notice that our kneejerk reaction is seldom 'what an idiot.'  No, we usually, almost instinctively, cheer them on or remember those who have served or sacrificed with reverence.  From the top of our pop culture down.

So it's almost as if, despite the uber-narrative that I must love me first, think of me first, prioritize me first, and heaven forbid think there is anything out there worth dying for - we really don't believe it.  Just what it says about a society whose formal instructions aren't even believed by those instructing us, I don't know.  I just know when days like this come along, it never seems to mesh with the usual tripe we hear from our best and brightest about how the greatest love of all is the love I should have for myself, everything else being a distant second. 

On this day of remembrance

It's often easy to pull the cameras back and look at the big picture. And there is nothing wrong with that.  But doing so can, at times, blur the fact that for so many thousands, it wasn't some massive geopolitical event that would kill so many and speed up the decline of the West.  It was really the victims, in the last moments of their lives, in their own lives and those of their families, as is the case with how we go through this vale of tears.  I thought of that when I saw this posted: 

Joseph Stalin, that wily mass murdering dictator, was known for his callous wit.  One paraphrase attributed to him is that a single death is a tragedy, but a million deaths is a statistic.  I know the crushing weigh of what we saw that day, and the deep in the gut feeling that America would not come out of it the way we did Pearl Harbor, tended to obscure the details and the individuals.  

We might have looked with horror at those jumping out of windows, or debated whether anyone said Let's Roll! or not.  I still remember as I was driving home to get to the church I was pastoring at the time and the gut crunch that came with hearing the news that the first tower had collapsed.  But on the whole, there was so much, so many dead, it was almost impossible to get our hearts and minds around it on a personal level.  Not like a mass shooting that claims twelve, or even a plane crash that claims two hundred.  

But this post and picture is a reminder.  As it is any time we think on the tragedies of human history.  It's all too easy to read 'fifteen thousand were killed' or 'only four hundred died', but that's a single tragedy in a single life and family merely repeated thousands of times.  Almost three thousand may have died on 9/11, and no doubt the families of the victims share a bond similar to other who experience such horrors of history.  But in the end, it was the individuals that day, and their individual families, that were impacted first, and worst.  As happens every day in the world that such terrible tragedies occur, whether to a single person or to a million.  

FWIW, for the mathematically impaired, she would now be 26 years old.  

RIP My Father in Law

I received word that my Father-in-Law Mike passed away.  He has struggled with ill health for quite a while, and was diagnosed with Leukemia a couple years ago.  But the downturn was sudden.  We got news a few weeks ago that he was beginning to have problems.  At the time our focus was on my own mom, who just had her fourth stroke. On top of that, our dog was diagnosed with cancer the same week.  But then out of the blue came the news of his spiraling health problems.  By last week, it was beginning to look grim.  On Friday afternoon, we found out that he was being moved to Hospice.  And today, at around 3:30, he passed away. 

As men of God goes, he's one we always joke and say if he doesn't make it in, I don't stand a chance.  As a former pastor, I can say he was everything you wanted in your parishioners.  A fascinating fellow, a chemist by trade who also spent much of his life in the world of higher education and academia, he was serious about his faith, dedicated to his denomination, very well read and able to converse about a variety of topics.  He was what we used to call a good witness where the Faith was concerned. He will be missed.  

Owing to circumstances, Covid, post-Covid, health issues and family issues, for some time we weren't able to get down to Florida, where they lived and where I met my darling wife.  At least we had a video call on his 80th birthday last year where he saw my daughter-in-law and little granddaughter.  You grab what you can in these situations.  I could write more, but things are a bit busy now.  

Prayers for him, prayers for my wife and her family, and for the whole Griffey gang would all be appreciated. 

In praise of Pope Francis

There will be time in the future to unpack the issues I had.  But on the day of his funeral, I think it appropriate to look at the positive contributions he made to his time in this most famous of world offices.  I wouldn't say this is all the positive I could think of, but they were the main ones I noticed and never stopped thinking on.  

Focus on evangelism.  We won't quibble over just what message he was wanting to spread, but at least the focus was there.  Catholics are not known for their evangelistic zeal.  While like most things, Pope Francis sent mixed messages, seeming to come down like a hammer on proselyting to the point where you wondered if just mentioning the Faith was wrong, at least he kept the idea out there.  It wasn't as clear as Pope John Paul II's emphasis on evangelism, though that doesn't seem to have yielded the fruits many were hoping for either.  But in Catholicism, mentioning the E-Word in any capacity I'll take as a win. 

Focus on our consumer, throw away age.  He was right in this. Most of our society is throwaway, being a godless, secular age that makes the Tin Man seem heart filled by comparison.  Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about as they wise man said.  You're born if you're lucky, you live, life sucks and you die.  This isn't something corporations, institutions and much of our leadership today seem to dislike.  In fact, seeing everything as expendable and throw away - including people when they and their situations don't benefit the agenda at large - has come to define our time.  The same goes for truth, principles, and values.   I think it's tough for us, especially younger folks, to imagine there was a time when this wasn't true for most of humanity.  No matter how many corporations there were, or vast institutions, or elites in leadership rolls, there was an understanding of intrinsic worth of things that they had to pander to, if not believe in.  Not today.  And it shows.  

A fighter. One reason liberals win is because they fight.  They earn it.  They fight on the beaches, on the landing grounds, in the fields and streets, in the hills, and as long as it's not bad weather, they will fight again and again.  Conservatives score one victory and then go back to watching the game. Pope Francis, by his grit and determination to keep going to fight the fight, embodied a grit and determination that our modern age isn't always associated with.  But he did it to fight for what he cared about, which is a very liberal thing to do. Would that conservatives demonstrate a portion of his dogged determination to see the job through and the agenda achieved.  

Exposed his progressive Catholic supporters.  Perhaps unintentionally, he gave his 'we're not leftists' Catholic supporters a big reveal.  While he was often confusing, inconsistent and sometimes troubling in how he framed things, when it came to calling out the horrifying movement of transgender activism and its terrible impact on young people, he didn't hold back. Nor did he minimize what he said with an 'ah shucks, it's still not a big deal, no judging here.'  That was one thing he blasted with both barrels in ways that would make Jerry Falwell proud.  What an opportunity for his 'not leftwing Catholic' supporters to stand up to that element of the modern Left, knowing they had the pope at their backs!  Yet did they?  Was that when they said 'Hey, in keeping with our dear Pope Francis, we too much condemn this horrible movement!'?  Nope, not that I saw.  Most simply ignored it altogether.  Or they pulled the old 'well it's complicated but I love the transgender community, not like those transphobic bigots who only say they disagree because there are people who want to torture gay people', or some such.  Nope.  As far as the individuals I saw, not one used this to take a bold stand against transgenderism.  Which, to me, was more than telling. 

Again, I'm not saying there were only four things he did that were worth something, three that he planned to do.  But already the criticisms have been flying, and that's fine.  I have a hard time believing he is the one to illicit a dogged insistence on traditional behavior in any situation.  Nonetheless, I'll leave others to go there.  I'm just one who appreciates the olden days approach of waiting to critique him until a little down the road. 

Fun reference.  Here is a very early post I did when Pope Francis became pope.  Most I knew at the time were happy to see him become pope. There was very little in the way of problems.  It was his supporters who made it a case of total obedience to the pope or else, setting back a thousand years the Catholic insistence that Catholics don't just mindlessly and blindly bow before the papacy.  

RIP Bob Uecker

He was America's favorite underachiever.  An athlete who embodied the joys of being lost in the team, but with a grin.  A professional baseball player who made a lasting impact by perpetually mocking his own career legacy and himself.  A man who taught the world the value of laughing louder at yourself than anyone else. 

When I was in high school, he was a legend, more than you'd think from those crazy, hazy days of the 1980s.  I don't know how many millions of times, when we would shift around in an auditorium or on the gym bleachers or move around in a classroom, you'd invariably hear someone say 'I must be in the Front Row!'  Even as young and foolish teens, we saw the value in a man who had that sense of self deprecation, but not in a passive aggressive way of avoiding confrontation.  

Truth be told, he was better than he suggested.  Sometimes the better ones are able to be silly with their own reputations because they know the truth.  He was with St. Louis when the won the World Series,  and would also play with the Braves and Phillies.  

Adopting the moniker 'Mr. Baseball', his career as an announcer for the Brewers, and as a comedian (the "Comic Bard of Baseball") surpassed anything he did on the diamond.  But it was his lampooning of himself - and by extension, most professional athletes or celebrities with an inflated opinion of themselves - that I remember the best. And that endeared him to a generation of young Americans sometimes given the choice by our modern society of greatness or nothingness.  

May he receive from God a portion of the blessings, and a little of the laughter, that he gave to so many of us. 

"When I came up to bat with three men on and two outs in the ninth, I looked in the other team's dugout and they were already in street clothes."

"How do you catch a knuckleball?  You wait until it stops rolling, then go pick it up."

"Sporting goods companies pay me not to endorse their products."

"I spent three of the best years of my life in 10th grade."

"I didn't get a lot of awards as a player.  But they did have a Bob Uecker Day Off for me once in Philly."

Bob Uecker, RIP.   

A Christmas Eve thought

Those are Christmas packages that were mailed to soldiers on the front lines in 1944.  They are the ones whose recipients were either MIA or KIA.  Now they sit in NYC, waiting for Return stickers, to be sent back to the grieving senders.  

I don't know who's to blame for the state of our society today.  Perhaps even the soldiers then played a part.  I don't know.  But it seems we could do better than we've been doing for the sake of those Christmases missed.

From the spectacular miniseries Band of Brothers.  The point:  The laundry not picked up largely belonged to men Sgt. Malarkey knows were killed in Normandy.  I think Christmas works best when we ditch our 'Nothing to kill or die for' mentality and go back to a 'Greater love hath no man than this' way of thinking.   It certainly makes more sense. 

Only sixteen left

That is the number of survivors of the attack on Pearl Harbor who are left alive.  Sad to think, but thus is the passage of time.  There comes a time 

The last survivor of the USS Arizona passed away earlier this year.  In this story, we have a focus on a survivor from one of the many ships that saw action that day, but are often overshadowed by the more referenced targets on that most famous of all naval anchorages - Battleship Row.  

It was the the USS Curtiss, the first purpose built seaplane tender in the US Navy (that is, not another type ship converted to a seaplane tender).  A seaplane tender, as can be guessed, was used to support the use of seaplanes that played an important role in the war.  Like many things, most probably don't know of it unless WW2, or Pearl Harbor, are your subjects of preference. 

Nonetheless, like anything in history, there were more stories from that one event than people.  Now is the time to get their tales, since there are so few left to tell them. 

All things must pass - remains of the USS Arizona

A couple old reflections for this Veteran's Day

Let's fight to keep what they served to protect

One here, remembering my family members who have gone before from an All Souls Day post, that includes some veterans on the list.  

And here, where I unpacked more my favorite veteran - my late dad, as well as others.  

Also here is a less pleasant one, a post dealing with Catholic BLM activist Gloria Purvis.  In it she claimed a celebrated war hero from WWII was never honored - I'll let you guess why she implies he was never honored.  Yet as readers of the comments section will note, and something I later verified myself, in a war that saw war heroes lifted up and celebrated for any reason possible, he was actually quite honored and celebrated in the day.  Far more than many heroes of the time. 

Whether partisan driven laziness or willful ignorance or whatever on Purvis's part, I don't know.  I'll take a charitable assumption and guess she just wasn't driven to find out the facts ahead of time (which was discoverable on none other than Wikipedia). And those who reposted her post back then with tears and sorrows for our racist nation assumed that she had done the required research.  

But given Veteran's Day as a day to remember those who served, and given that we saw such a repudiation of those like Purvis and their style of leftwing activism that seeks to tear down and besmirch what those veterans served for, it seems a fitting thing to link to on this day of remembrance. 

And just in case we need a reminder for those striving for goodness and virtue against the Left's alternatives:  

L to R: Not a Hero, Hero

RIP Pete Rose

Never run home when you can dive - a Rose trademark

Every now and then someone whose name was practically etched into your cultural brain comes along, and Rose was one of them.  When I was a kid, and the Big Red Machine was smashing records, every third kid in my school wanted to be Pete Rose. 

I recall my mom and dad driving to Cincinnati to watch them during those crazy, wild days when the Reds were a juggernaut in the sports world.  I even went down a couple times with my dad and the family.  Once my dad and his best friend from the railroad, along with his friend's son, took me all the way down, through torrential rain squalls, to see them play.  It was a little beyond me, since I was never a huge sports fan.  History was my interest even then.  

Yet I knew there was something especial about everything happening. I knew there was something memorable about using my dad's binoculars to see fairly up close (very good binoculars) these players who were household names - Ken Griffey Sr., Johnny Bench, Dave Concepcion, Joe Morgan, George Foster, Cesar Geronimo and - standing high above them all - Pete Rose.  I can still remember in third grade, we had to give a presentation to the class about someone we admired.  I can't even remember mine.  But I remember Cindy C., standing in her Reds jersey and proudly announcing that her hero was none other than Pete Rose.

The all time Hit Champ in baseball history (the most hits of any pro ball player ever), his reputation became marred by the scandal involving his betting on the game. In those days, there was still a residue of the old 'if you do the crime, you do the time.'   And he did it.  Even many fans in the Cincinnati area had to concede that he violated major rules and laws, and that's what happens.  It was sad, it didn't take away from his accomplishments, but he was going to pay a steep price for his violations.

The problem, of course, was continuing to punish him into the modern era, where players may or may not be punished for assault, or cheating, or getting tattoos.  Perhaps someone who sent an off color email twenty years ago will be canned, but another accused by multiple women of assaulting them might go up in the league.  And now, that sports betting is legal and college kids are becoming millionaires as amateur athletes, is this the age that can still hold ol'Pete to the fire?  

Nonetheless, before that conversation could be brought back up, time did what time does, and Pete Rose has died.  Opinions were strong with him, but his fan base and his legacy were strong.  For me, he occupies a place in my memories and my childhood.  So massive his fame that I can't recall the world without him.  But I will have to now.  And pray that he finds some peace that he lost in this life, as well as peace for his loved ones and millions of fans who are left behind. 

The Big Red Machine

Time to remember

 Time to reflect comes later:

My granddaughter was born almost as far away from 9/11 as I was Pearl Harbor.  I thought that was noteworthy.  For now, remember those who fell victim to the attacks and all the suffering that came after. 

RIP James Earl Jones

As must happen to everyone, the great James Earl Jones has passed away.   To my generation, he will forever be the voice of Darth Vader.  To be brutally honest, that honor wasn't bestowed on him for me and many of my peers until closer to The Empire Strikes Back.  Until then, our younger eyes only saw 'David Prowse - whoever he was - as Darth Vader' on the snippets of credits that we saw.  Even a year later, Star Wars was still generating around the block lines.  The theaters we went to rushed us out the doors to make way for the next batch.  And before VCRs, there wasn't much of a chance to read the credits.  Or desire for that matter. 

So it came as a shock, sometime near the end of the 70s, getting ready for the new SW sequel, that we discovered Darth Vader wasn't entirely Prowse at all, but also someone named James Earl Jones.  Perhaps once or twice I glanced the name, purely by accident, but my young mind likely didn't process it.  But by Empire, I was heading into middle school.  A little smarter and more aware.  

When he did Conan the Barbarian, for many I know that was our first glance at him.  And what a glance. I know today his hairpiece gets quite a ribbing by folks.  But back then, I don't believe I had ever seen him before.  We had nothing to go by.  I was sure it wasn't his real hair, but for all I knew, it wasn't far off.  Not that I saw the movie - too young - but I saw plenty of articles and photos.  

It would be over the subsequent years, as I grew up, that I was introduced to Mr. Jones's impressive body of work.  And his impressive presence.  George Lucas stupidly apologized for saying Jones was chosen for Vader's voice because Lucas was looking for a darker, more sinister voice.  Because darker, black, you know.  It's today.  

But sane people in a sane age get what he meant.  With a voice that would make George Sanders green with envy, he couldn't help but play parts of authority and commanding respect.  Wise, sage like, solid, dependable - these became the stock of characteristics he always seemed to convey.  Even in comedy, you could count on him to the solid as a rock person in a room full of crazy.   Just look at him.  

I know little about his private life, and to be honest, I'm happy with that.  All too often disappointment can follow when you pry into the lives of those you know on screen.  As it is, the gist I had was that he commanded the same respect off screen that his characters did on screen.   Which isn't bad.   

He remains a major part of my cultural awareness.  He was that solid character that perhaps Peck or Gable filled for generations before.  You knew when you saw him that he would bring at least a full letter grade improvement to any film or project.  Despite it all, he will still be Vader with that voice that sent chills down my elementary school spine all those years ago.  RIP Mr. Jones.  And thanks for the lifetime of memories. 

UPDATE:  I wasn't aware of this, but apparently in the original theatrical releases, his name wasn't in the credits.  That came later.  And it was at his initial request.  In a later interview, he explained that he believed he wasn't really 'acting', but was more part of the special effects.  He compared it to the controversy over Mercedes McCambridge and her role in the Exorcist as the dubbed over voice for Linda Blair.  It wasn't until later that, due to a growing awareness of his role in voicing Vader, that he acquiesced and Lucas then added his name, and retroactively added it to future releasees of the original.  Hence why I wouldn't have known in those early years, Star Wars mania though it was.  Fun stuff sometimes, the internet. 

Eighty years ago

An elderly French couple prays over the body of an American GI killed in front of their home

The press is paying particular attention to this anniversary since it is likely the last of the 'milestone' anniversaries that will have many, if any, actual D-Day veterans present to remember.  So one last time, for old times' sake. 

D-Day is basically the WW2 remembrance day.  In a vast global struggle that saw people die by the tens of millions, and entire regions decimated, all over the world, D-Day sort of encapsulates the whole conflict for those youngsters who even have heard of it.  

Which is a good thing.  At least it is remembered.  And so far, remembered well.  This too shall pass, however.  As all things do.  But it's right to pause and reflect. To recall a different time and a different generation. By no means a perfect generation.  But one that possessed qualities worth celebrating.  

As if from another world, FDR summed up the national mentality of time and the event rather well: 

My fellow Americans: Last night, when I spoke with you about the fall of Rome, I knew at that moment that troops of the United States and our allies were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. It has come to pass with success thus far.

And so, in this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer:

Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our Nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity.

Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith.

They will need Thy blessings. Their road will be long and hard. For the enemy is strong. He may hurl back our forces. Success may not come with rushing speed, but we shall return again and again; and we know that by Thy grace, and by the righteousness of our cause, our sons will triumph.

They will be sore tried, by night and by day, without rest-until the victory is won. The darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Men's souls will be shaken with the violences of war.

For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate. They fight to let justice arise, and tolerance and good will among all Thy people. They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home.

Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom.

And for us at home -- fathers, mothers, children, wives, sisters, and brothers of brave men overseas -- whose thoughts and prayers are ever with them--help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice.

Many people have urged that I call the Nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.

Give us strength, too -- strength in our daily tasks, to redouble the contributions we make in the physical and the material support of our armed forces.

And let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto our sons wheresoever they may be.

And, O Lord, give us Faith. Give us Faith in Thee; Faith in our sons; Faith in each other; Faith in our united crusade. Let not the keenness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.

With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogancies. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister Nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.

Thy will be done, Almighty God.

 Amen."

If you follow the news media

You likely forgot that today is the anniversary of the horrible Covenant Christian school shooting in Nashville at the hands of a transgender activist.  That last part of the sentence being why you likely missed it, and why it was swept under the rug as soon as possible.  I had to Google "Covenant" to see it pop up among multiple other stories.  Only when I Googled "Covenant School Shooting" did I find a long list, and then almost all focused on gun control.  

I know that during the great Liars for Jesus kerfuffle many went way off the rails about lying.  In a way of legalism that would shame a pharisee, they boasted that it's better to let a thousand children be murdered than so much as tell a white lie in a desperate bid to save them.  Personally I liked what an Orthodox priest said who I was talking to about that time.  He said it's not lying as much as honesty. Truth. Sure, we shouldn't lie if at all possible - and never for our own gain. But it's because Truth matters most.

We live in an age of endless lies upon lies upon mendacity upon more lies and subterfuge and lies galore.  We are told C-A-T spells DOG, squares are round, teaching math is racist, and O'Brien was holding up five fingers.  And there is no end to the cheating lies that continually pour our way in order to sustain the endless falsehoods.  

That's never good. We often salve our wounds by insisting everyone in history is was bad as this.  Everyone has always lied and been selfish and what have you.  I've always thought you have to be pretty lousy if your go-to excuse after decades of trying to save the world is 'it's always been this bad.'  

But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the polluted, as for murderers, fornicators, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their lot shall be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.    Revelation 21.8

When we see the evils riding pig-a-back on the endless streams of lies, falsehoods and deviousness that is dumped on us on a daily basis, it isn't difficult to figure why all liars were included in such a list. 

A chapter closes

Lou Conter's ship, the USS Arizona, in happier days

And an era ends.  As they always do.  Lou Conter, the last survivor of the USS Arizona, has passed.  God bless him.  

As usual, there is a fine write up over at The American Catholic, where I first saw the solemn news.  

It was WW2 that introduced me to history.  And Pearl Harbor became a point of interest for me like few other events in history.  

I don't know, I guess I'm someone who likes the biggest and best.  The definers and the milestones.  Consider what I like: Citizen Kane and Star Wars for movies, The Lord of the Rings among my favorite novels, The Beatles and Frank Sinatra and Mozart for my musical tastes.  I'm not saying that's all I like, but clearly I gravitate toward those who transcend being merely good at their craft. 

The same for history.  Part of what fascinated me about the Jesus story as an agnostic was the Crucifixion.  I remember watching an old show introduced by David L Wolper titled Appointment with Destiny: The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ.  That struck me at how the world changed forever because of what wasn't worth paying attention to in the halls of Roman power that year. 

Likewise Hastings, the Titanic, and Pearl Harbor also figure high in my interest level.  Perhaps due to proximity to my lifetime, Pearl Harbor especially struck me as a thick dividing line between the before and the after.  The world, at war though it was, on December 6th, compared to the world ever since beginning on December 8th.  

Because of that, I've read many, many, many books and articles over the years.  I've watched interviews and documentaries galore.  And within the broader attack, the ill-fated USS Arizona more than anything captured my imagination.  I don't know why.  

Years ago I missed the chance to meet an Arizona survivor.  My family went to the Dublin Irish Festival for the first time.  It was summer of 2001.  In the 'Genealogy' tent, there was an old codger walking about with a cane.  He had one of those veteran caps on.  But standing behind him I couldn't see what it said.  I pushed my way through the crowd to get in front of him to see.  And then I saw it: WW2.  US Navy.  USS Arizona.  

My jaw dropped and I froze.  I wasn't sure what to say.  How does one say anything in that situation?  I could kick myself in later years, but at the time I remained silent.  I wonder if it was Mr. Conter.  

Whether him or likely not, we mourn his passing and the virtues and best values that his era brought to the world.  A world in desperate need of the best they had to offer.  Hopefully his was a life of peace, and he will now indulge in that peace and joy of a better life than this one.  

The USS Arizona meets its end; how Lou Conter spent his morning on that sunny Sunday

Prayers for Gary Sinise and his family

May his memories be made of times like this

Gary Sinise has announced that his son, Mac, died of cancer this January.  It was after a fire year battle.  He was diagnosed with cancer in the same year Gary's wife was diagnosed.  In one of those 'why this guy God, he's one of the good guys!', you're reminded that it rains on the just and the unjust. 

Gary Sinise is one of those rare 'good guys of Hollywood.'  He's our generation's Bob Hope.  Though I fear that Hope had far more love and appreciation for his devotion to our military than Sinise has.  Keeping himself as far from partisan politics as he can, he nonetheless has devoted himself to our veterans and  to doing everything he can to support them and aid them in their troubles. 

He's best known, of course, for his role in Forrest Gump as the longsuffering Lieutenant Dan.  One of the most memorable performances of the 1990s, and possibly of all time.  He took that role and his identification with the character and turned it into his devotion to our armed forces in the years after the 9/11 attacks.  He hasn't looked back since.

I know.  People experience such tragedies all the time.  Why single this one out?  I guess, again, because he's one of the good guys.  Like the late Roddy McDowall, he's known to be someone who has no enemies in an industry awash with enemies.  And people from all sides of the ever more contentious aisles appear to respect him, as well they should.

So it's always tough when people who have devoted themselves selfishly for the cause of good appear to get hit and hit and hit again with tragedies.  It's times like this that you're inclined to say "Not fair God, why not drop these horrors on someone who has it coming, and I can compose a list pretty quickly.'  Until, again, you realize that's now how it works.  

For just like making the stupid mistake of calling hellfire down on the rich without realizing to some in the world I am rich, the same goes for the good guys and the bad guys.  Whatever I think of others who I feel deserve such trauma in their lives more than Sinise, there are others far better than me who could say the same about me.  But then, that's what makes them far better than me. 

In the end, on this side of heaven, we think of Corrie ten Boom's illustration of this life as a needlepoint  work of art knitted by God.  We see the business end on the rear of the picture - loose ends, dangling threads, knotted confusion.  God sees the beautiful picture on the other side. 

Whether that helps Mr. Sinise, I couldn't say.  He speaks of his son's strong Catholic Faith. Apparently Gary is also Catholic, having entered the Church in 2010.  I pray that faith of theirs will see them through the coming months and years as they deal with one of the worst things a person can experience, and the worst thing a parent can experience.  

When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears, and delivers them out of all their troubles. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous; but the LORD delivers him out of them all.  Psalm 34.17-19

For all the veterans

Veterans Day and Memorial Day can often run together.  Most of the time, as I've watched today, the emphasis seems to be on those who gave that last measure of devotion.  Or, if not, then on those who served in combat or during war.  Even if it's not stated that way. 

But properly, Veterans Day is for all veterans, war or peace, who served our country.  Even those today, serving in a hot mess dumpster fire military defending a dying nation.  We still 'honor' them, a word that seldom means much today, but we're told we should do in this particular case.  But then, the news recently said on Suicide Prevention Day that we should honor suicide victims.  Which I thought was wrong thinking to the extreme. 

But I agree that we should honor veterans.  Including those who had the good fortune to serve in peace time.  Therefore I post this picture:

It's of my dad, his dad and his two older brothers some time in the 1950s (his younger two brothers - also veterans - are not there).

To the left is his oldest brother, who flew in a B-17 during WW2.  Hollywood handsome and very proud of his service, he obtained a pilot's license after the war and maintained a passion for flying throughout his life.  He was also the most decorated brother, being the first US airman to shoot down a German bomber by himself (a Ju-88).  In those days any special accomplishment made you a celebrity in the name of ginning up support for the war effort.  Of all family members, he was most willing to discuss his wartime exploits.  In later years, those discussions did take on a more introspective tone. 

Next is my granddad.  He was not the best father.  Today he would be unforgivable in keeping with our enlightened developments as a society.  Struggling with drink and being what we call abusive, there was no love lost between him and my dad.  But he was a war veteran as well, serving in the merchant marine in the First World War.  Since I think I only met with him a couple times, and then as a toddler or younger, I can't say anything else about his service.  After all, Dad seldom mentioned anything about him other than his hunting for food and prowess at gardening (one of the few things Dad gave him credit for). 

On the far right is my dad's next oldest brother - and the one he was closest to.  One of those famous types who are gentle as a lamb - unless you push him too far.  One Christmas Eve, while driving in downtown Chicago, he was cut off by a city bus.  Enraged, he managed to swing in front of it, then stop the car, shut the engine off, and throw the keys on the floor.  The downtown traffic was backed up to Minnesota within minutes.  In WW2, he served with Patton as a medic, and was part of the Battle of the Bulge.  He was awarded a late commendation shortly before he passed from cancer.  That's when he asked my dad what the Ardennes was, and my dad explained that it was the Bulge.  His response was typical for him - all he could remember was it being very cold and people shooting at him. 

Finally there is my dad.  His younger brother and he went into the 1950s without much thought of serving.  His youngest brother was fourteen years his junior, and too young.  Eventually he would join and serve in combat during the Vietnam War.  

But my dad's younger brother didn't seem interested in living up to their brothers, and that suited Dad just fine.  Dad was, at that time, the 'rough one' of the brothers, and more concerned about getting in trouble with his friends (one such friend went to prison for murdering a man during a robbery - but  he was the one who encouraged Dad to date my mom, so there you go).  That side of him eased up once he became a father. 

One day Dad learned his younger brother had joined the army, simply because he didn't want to be left out.  The Korean War was going on, and he decided to keep the family tradition of combat veterans alive. That prompted Dad to join, since he didn't want to be the one in the family not to serve.  The two of them did basic together at Fort Knox (Agony and Misery), with Dad eventually spending most of his time at Fort Hood.  They didn't have a chance to serve in combat, because by the time they exited basic training, the Korean War armistice was signed.  

Serving in the armored engineers, Dad learned all you can know about building things and taking automobiles apart.  Hence that farmhouse he rebuilt from the ground up that I've written about.  He had a chance to go to school and learn how to work on helicopters (a new thing back then). But that would involve flying in helicopters, something he wasn't keen on doing.  Plus, he was older than most of his peers in the army, and was itching to get back to civilian life and continue his lifelong career in the railroad.  

So there you have it.  Veterans all, including those who were fortunate enough to dodge combat.  Mom's oldest brother and father were also combat veterans. Her dad served in the army in WWI at the end of that conflict, serving in the Argonne Forest.  Her bother served in the  South Pacific in the Army Air Corps.  It was his unit that was responsible for shooting down Admiral Yamamoto.  Her other brother couldn't serve owing to health problems (he lost a lung when he was little).  There were also other relatives, great uncles and all, who served in and out of war time.  But whether combat or peace time, this is a day to honor them all, and so I do.  

RIP Mike Flynn

Mike Flynn, known to me through his website The TOF Spot, has died.  I can't say how sad that makes me.  Mr. Flynn was quite brilliant, and one of those people who seemed to approach every topic he wrote about with a zeal I seldom manage for a last minute clutch football game. 

I was first introduced to Mr. Flynn through Mark Shea from back in the 'Catholic and Enjoying It' days.  Mark was quite a fan, and it isn't difficult to see why.  Though writing fiction of the science sort was his passion, he was also a keen observer of the world, of media stats and fallacies. and human nature in general.

Ed Feser has a fine write up, and says what I would say but better.  I agree that the thing about Mr. Flynn was his ability to remain, well, a gentleman.  Even in the world of online discourse.  More than once I saw people invoke the usual internet variations of 'your mamma wears army boots' when arguing over something Mr. Flynn wrote.  Yet never did I see him do anything but calmly demonstrate that he was the one with the facts on his side. 

Over the years he spoke to various topics, from climate change to politics to history.  Always he seemed interested in upending the dominant narratives presented by our modern betters, and getting us to see past the slick veneers meant to cover the obvious.  Over the years he blogged less and less, but I still visited at least once a week to make sure I didn't miss anything.  One of the few old blogs that I continued to follow.  

So may God welcome him into the reward we hope for.  To use the old cliche, our loss is heaven's gain.  God's blessings on his family and friends, and all of use who will be a little less blessed in this world for his passing. 

Remember?

 I'd like to forget. 

We didn't realize that as went the towers, so would go the country

9/11 was what Imperial Japan had hoped Pearl Harbor would be, but wasn't.  Within weeks we were beginning to turn on one another.  I had OSU Football tickets for September 15 that year.  Of course I did.  The game was postponed and moved to October, OSU's bye week that year.  My wife and I went to that game in October, warry of any airplanes that might be overhead.  On the way, we heard on the radio news (I always listen to the game news when I go to a game) a story about some pushback against the late Rush Limbaugh.  Apparently he said something about the Democrats going after Bush and it had everyone upset.  That was in October.  A little over a month after the attacks.  The threads were already beginning to fray.

On the day of the attacks I recall the late Peter Jennings slamming George Bush for his absence and apparent inaction.  A criticism that picked up speed in the weeks following.  I also remember race peddler Al Sharpton being interviewed and accusing us of racism for assuming that the attackers were Muslim.  Even though by then much of the information was being driven by what we knew.  Clearly this was going to be what Japan wanted Pearl Harbor to be, not what Pearl Harbor became.

A big problem was that our president was an empty suite.  A man over his head.  When he arrived at Ground Zero and gave a rousing pep rally speech, that ended his positive contributions to the cause.  His 'Our civilization is under attack, quick!  Go shopping!' call muddled the response and confused a nation.  He was clearly not prepared for an opposition party that was immediately more concerned about making sure he didn't benefit politically from the attacks than actually fighting the ones who attacked us.  Recall that, until the attacks, our nation was still wracked with protests, charges of an illegal election, and calls to have his presidency scrubbed since he was not a valid president.  It wouldn't take long for his opponents to recover that priority.  Not to mention his 'It's the Religion of Peace!' moment, which played into the post-9/11 theme that the attacks were horrible, so what did we do to make them hate us?  After all, we had met the enemy, and it was us. 

Within months, it was easy to see things begin to fall apart.  From the AP musing on whether it's appropriate to call the attackers terrorists (a problem we apparently resolved on January 6th, 2021), to reports that the Flight 93 passengers maybe weren't so heroic, or nobody said 'Let's Roll!', it was easy to see the writing on the wall.  American liberalism was clearly more concerned with continuing the post-Cold War deconstruction of our nation than fighting to preserve it. 

Of course the fabled 'New Atheists' made bank on the attacks, being able to be interviewed by journalists with a straight face as they insisted the problems of the world were always because of religion.  Seeing our general appraisal of religion, especially among younger Americans, after the attacks compared to before was like night and day.  

When professor and scholar Ward Churchill made his hateful '3000 Eichmanns' statement about the 9/11 victims, he eventually lost his job.  Which was fine by me.  But I was stunned by the debate in the media.  It was reported as '9/11 victims as Eichmanns who got what they had coming - a polite discussion tonight on the evening news.'  Again, no 'we vow to remember the 7th of December' there.  

Now I don't pretend that this all began with 9/11.  I recall Max Lucado, that smooth Christian writer who rose to prominence with books that presented the Gospel message in very vanilla terms.  When everyone was rushing about saying 'Don't let this change us!  That will let the attackers win!', he had a different take.  He wrote an editorial that said he hopes it does change us.  Our nation's only hope is if it does.  He pointed out that , if we were honest, we shouldn't want things going in the direction they were going on September 10th, 2001.  In hindsight, and with an honest appraisal of all those years ago, he was clearly correct.  By 2023, a growing number of Americans are committed to nothing other than continuing the vision and the goal of those hijackers on that bright Tuesday morning. 

Sorry to be a David downer.  I know this is a time when everyone remembers, and rightly pays tribute to those who lost their lives and those who gave the last full measure of devotion. Nonetheless, this seldom comes up anymore.  It's as good a time as any to state the obvious.  Unless things turn radically and quickly, the epitaph for that day will not be 'a day of infamy'.  It will be 'and that's all she wrote'.