Peace On Earth...May Christmas Hasten That Day

The first months of World War I had seen an initial German attack through Belgium into France, which had been repulsed outside Paris by French and British troops at the Battle of the Marne in early September 1914. The Germans fell back to the Aisne Valley and in the subsequent Battle of the Aisne, the Allied forces were unable to push through the German line, and the fighting quickly degenerated into a static stalemate with neither side willing to give ground. To the north, on the right of the German army, there had been no defined front line and both sides quickly began to try to use this gap to outflank one another. In the ensuing "race to the sea", the two sides repeatedly clashed, each trying to push forward and threaten the end of the other's line. By November, there was a continuous front line running from the North Sea to the Swiss frontier. The action was swift and both sides were determined.

But, in December something unexpected happened: An unofficial truce involving about 100,000 British and German troops along the length of that front. The reason?  Christmas.  It began on Christmas Eve when German troops began decorating the area around their trenches in the region of Ypres, Belgium. The Germans began by placing candles on their trenches and on Christmas trees, then continued the celebration by singing Christmas carols. The British responded by singing carols of their own. The two sides continued by shouting Christmas greetings to each other. Soon thereafter, there were excursions across the 'No Man's Land, where small gifts were exchanged, such as food, tobacco and alcohol, and souvenirs such as buttons and hats. The artillery in the region fell silent that night. The truce also allowed a breathing spell where recently-fallen soldiers could be brought back behind their lines by burial parties. Joint services were held. In many sectors, the truce lasted through Christmas night, but it continued until New Year's Day in others.

Ironically, just days before Christmas a group of 101 British women suffragists wrote a letter to the women of Germany and Austria. Under the heading "On Earth Peace, Goodwill towards Men, the letter said, "The Christmas message sounds like mockery to a world at war. Is it not our mission to preserve life?

The next Christmas, the two sides again observed an unofficial cease fire at the front but it was not as successful, thanks to strongly-worded orders from the high commands of both sides prohibiting such fraternization.

My prayer is that one day we will have peace on earth...may Christmas hasten that day. 

God bless you all and may each of you have a blessed Christmas!

"It Could Happen Again"

Peace On Earth, Good Will To Men

On Christmas Day in 1864, one of America's best known poets, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, wrote a poem he titled, "Christmas Bells." That poem would later be set to music and become known as, "I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day." Why would Longfellow write about 'Peace on earth, good will toward men' while the American Civil War is in progress? There certainly wasn't peace during that time. As a matter of fact, when Longfellow wrote his poem it would be months later before Lee would surrender to Grant. But, did you know that some of the verses in the poem were omitted for the song to shorten it, and that it is in those verses that Longfellow speaks about the war?

While the song is about the war, it is more about hardships Longfellow had to endure in the days and years leading up to the poem. Three years earlier, on July 9, 1861, his wife of 21 years, Frances, or Fanny, Appleton, wrote in her journal, "We are all sighing for the good sea breeze instead of this stifling land, one filled with dust. Poor Allegra is very droopy with heat, and Edie has to get her hair in a net to free her neck from the weight."

The next day, after trimming some of seven year old Edith's beautiful curls, Fanny decided to preserve the clippings in sealing wax. Melting a bar of sealing wax with a candle, a few drops fell unnoticed upon her dress. The longed for sea breeze gusted through the window, igniting the light material of Fanny's dress and immediately wrapping her in flames. In her attempt to protect Edith and Allegra, she ran to Henry's study in the next room, where he frantically attempted to extinguish the flames with a nearby, but undersized, throw rug. Failing to stop the fire with the rug, he tried to smother the flames by throwing his arms around Frances, severely burning his face, arms, and hands. Fanny Longfellow died the next morning.

The first Christmas after Fanny's death, Longfellow wrote, "How inexpressibly sad are all holidays." A year after the incident, he wrote, "I can make no record of these days. Better leave them wrapped in silence. Perhaps someday God will give me peace." Longfellow's journal entry for December 25, 1862 reads: "A merry Christmas' say the children, but that is no more for me."

To add to his sorrow, almost a year later, Longfellow's son, Charles, was severly wounded in a civil war skirmish with a bullet passing under his shoulder blades and taking off one of the spinal processes.

There was no entry in Longfellow's journal during Christmas of 1863.

And then, on Christmas Day 1864, he wrote "Christmas Bells." 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old familiar carols play

And wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men

And thought how, as the day had come

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men

Till, ringing, singing on its way

The world revolved from night to day

A voice, a chime

A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, good will to men

Then from each black accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good will to men

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearth-stones of a continent

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, good will to men

And in despair I bowed my head

There is no peace on earth, I said

For hate is strong

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead; nor doth he sleep

The Wrong shall fail

The Right prevail

With peace on earth, good will to men

What an incredible story! I admit there have been times in my life when I wanted to skip Christmas. I understand why Longfellow did not write in his journal during the Christmas of 1863. Even though it is about the birth of Jesus, Christmas can also be a sad time for people suffering like Longfellow did. His story is evidence that God hears us when we cry, and that He can wipe away our tears.
 
Most of the words in Christmas Bells fits the world we live in today. In the third verse, Longfellow writes 'the world revolved from night to day.' It was his way of saying he had finally found the peace he had been longing for. Where are we in 2010, night or day?  I think we all know the answer to that.  Just as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow found peace, so can I...and so can you. Longfellow assured us we can when he wrote, "God is not dead; nor doth he sleep. The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail with peace on earth, good will to men." Merry Christmas everyone!

"O give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good; for His mercy endureth for ever."

God Bless The Weary Pilgrim

God bless the weary pilgrim whose journey never ends. May he rest eternally in the arms of God. - The Notorious Meddler Nov. 25, 2010.

As weary pilgrim, now at rest

Hugs with delight his silent nest

His wasted limbs now lie full soft

That mirey steps have trodden oft

Blesses himself to think upon

His dangers past, and travails done

The burnIng sun no more shall heat

Nor stormy rains on him shall beat

The briars and thorns no more shall scratch

Nor hungry wolves at him shall catch
He erring paths no more shall tread

Nor wild fruits eat instead of bread

For waters cold he doth not long

For thirst no more shall parch his tongue

No rugged stones his feet shall gall

Nor stumps nor rocks cause him to fall

All cares and fears he bids farewell

And means in safety now to dwell

A pilgrim I, on earth perplexed

With Sins, with cares and sorrows vext

By age and pains brought to decay

And my clay house mold'ring away

Oh, how I long to be at rest

And soar on high among the blest

This body shall in silence sleep

Mine eyes no more shall ever weep

No fainting fits shall me assail

Nor grinding pains my body frail

With cares and fears ne'er cumb'red be

Nor losses know, nor sorrows see

What though my flesh shall there consume

It is the bed Christ did perfume

And when a few years shall be gone

This mortal shall be clothed upon

A corrupt carcass down it lies

A glorious bodyu it shall rise

In weakness and dishonour sown

In power 'tis raised by Christ alone

Then soul and body shall unite

And of their Maker have the sight

Such lasting joys shall there behold

As ear ne'er heard nor tongue e'er told

Lord make me ready for that day

Then come, dear Bridegroom, come away

Anne Bradstreet - Aug. 31, 1669

 

 

 

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

The Notorious Meddler

Ronnie's Apple Cake

"Thanksgiving is more than eating, Chuck. You heard what Linus was saying out there. Those early Pilgrims were thankful for what had happened to them, and we should be thankful, too. We should just be thankful for being together. I think that's what they mean by Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown." (Marcie, from A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving) 

Why do we celebrate Thanksgiving Day?

My kids think of it as a long weekend away from school. A lot of people look at it as the start of the Christmas shopping season. For me, it is a special time to reflect on the many things I am thankful for. One special thing I am thankful for this year is Ronnie's Apple Cake and all that it allows me to remember. You see, Ronnie's Apple Cake is more than just a dessert...it is a door that leads to a time in my life that holds many wonderful memories. Memories of my family, when we were all there...together as one. It was a special time in my life.

Ronnie's Apple Cake was not always known as Ronnie's Apple Cake. Originally, it was just known as the delicious apple cake that mom baked. I am not sure how many pieces of that cake I ate from the time I was a youngster until I reached the age of 21, but it was a lot. We all loved it, but Ronnie, my brother, man he loved it more than any of us, and he let it be known that it was his favorite dessert. That was fine by me. I didn't mind who asked her to bake it, as long as she did. Only later did it matter which child asked her to bake it the most. You see, that apple cake was the very last thing Ronnie would ever eat of my mom's cooking and baking as he sat down at the kitchen table on the afternoon of May 6, 1981. At 5:30 a.m. the following morning, we found him dead of a car accident just five-tenths of a mile from home. No long after Ronnie's death, mom announced that she could no longer bare to bake another apple cake again and that was the end of it. We understood. Never again would anyone ask her to bake that apple cake and that was the end of it.

"Isn't it peculiar, Charlie Brown, how some traditions just slowly fade away" (Lucy, from A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.)

President Dwight David Eisenhower once said, "There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were." Things have never really gotten back to the way they were for us following Ronnie's death in 1981, but one day recently - 29 years, 5 months and 3 days later to be exact - one very nice memory came back. It was Sunday, and after Church my son, J.D., and I drove to mom's house for lunch. I wasn't expecting to see mom's apple cake sitting there on the food bar, but there it was. Naturally, as soon as I saw it a ton of memories came flooding back as I recalled that time in my life when things were the way they used to be. I never expected things to remain the same after Ronnie's death, but who would expect that after such a tragedy? I am not really sure as to when exactly it happened, but somehow, over the years, I managed to put that part of my life in its special place in my mind, as I struggled to go on with my life.

Standing there, staring down at the apple cake I said, "Wow, you baked that apple cake!" Mom had forgotten about it, because she said she had found the recipe but did not know why she had not baked it. I reminded her it was Ronnie's favorite dessert and that after his death, she had said she could no longer bake it. She just said "Yeah," and that was it. It was nice to sit there and enjoy something I once thought to be the best thing I had ever tasted. 29 years, 5 months and 3 days. That is how long it had been since I had eaten that cake. The best part was that I was able to remember something my brother had loved so much during his short life. That day, I renamed mom's apple cake, Ronnie's Apple Cake.

As I write this, Thanksgiving Day is almost here. As Governor William Bradford of the Pilgrim Colony once said, it is a time to render Thanksgiving to the Almighty God for all His blessings. This year, as we always do, my family will gather together to enjoy one another in food and fellowship, and I look forward to it. I have witnessed many Thanksgiving Day's in my life and I have many blessings to be thankful for, including Ronnie's Apple Cake and all that it now means to me.

For those of you who are curious as to why my brother loved that apple cake so much, here is the recipe. I hope you will enjoy it as much as he did.

Ronnie's Apple Cake

Ingredients:
3 cups diced apples

1 1/2 cups of oil

2 cups sugar

3 eggs well beaten

3 cups self-rising flour

1 tp cinnamon

1 tp vanilla

1 cup raisins or nuts (mix well)
optional -1 cup powdered sugar
and 1/2 cup of milk for a glaze

Instructions:

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes to one hour

Another Hill (And Sometimes A Mountain)

I have spent almost the entire day listening to this song and it has blessed me tremendously.  The words speak volumes to me and I just wanted to share it with you. I hope it touches you as much as it has touched me today.  Thanks.  nm

I've been scorned by a neighbor whom I treasured

I've been deceived by a friend I held dear

So many times I've just wanted to give up

Then I remember my Lord is right here

chorus

Another hill and sometimes a mountain

Another road with rocks to hurt my feet

But when He walks along beside me

I can make it, there'll be no retreat

Well I questioned the loss of a loved one

I wondered why it had happened to me

But through prayer I found the answer

It was all so plain to see

chorus

I’m so glad that I learned to trust Him

His promise to me He will keep

I have no fear of tomorrow

For the Shepherd takes good care of His sheep

chorus

The singer is Donald J. Shockey.

O Brave Warrior

Today is Veteran's Day, an opportunity for Americans to thank the 24.9 million military veterans who have served our country as a member of the armed forces. So, on this day, I pause to pay tribute to you, O brave warrior.

General Douglas MacArthur once said, "The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war." Many members of my own family, past and present, have served this great nation of ours, from the American Revolution to Desert Storm. Some had to travel far from home leaving their families behind. Some suffered the shedding of their own blood, while at least two never made it back home. Another died at home protecting his family and community. All were grateful to serve their country because they believed in the one thing that none of us should ever take for granted - freedom. I am thankful to you, O brave warrior, because you were willing to do whatever it takes so that I can enjoy the freedoms I have in America today.

Singer Ysabella Brave said, "You don't get very far in life without having to be brave an awful lot. Because we all have our frightening moments and difficult trials and we don't have much of a choice but to get through 'em, and it takes a lot of bravery to do that. The most important thing about bravery is this - It's not about not being scared - it's about being scared and doing it anyway - that's bravery.

You don't have to look far to see that America truly is the home of the brave. I pray that she will always remain the land of the free, so that those who sacrificed in whatever way will not have done so in vain. I am proud of you, O brave warrior, past and present. Long may the flag of freedom fly in your honor. Happy Veteran's Day!

It Has Always Been...

It has always been the soldier not the reporter who has given us Freedom of the press

It has always been the soldier not the poet who has given us Freedom of speech

It is the soldier not the campus organizer who has given us the Freedom to demonstrate

It is the soldier who salutes the flag who serves under the flag whose coffin is draped by the flag who allows the protesters to burn the flag!

It is the soldier... It has always been the soldier!

--Unknown

HAPPY VETERANS DAY!
 
 
 
 

Creature Feature

Between 1970 and 1973, also known as my pre-teen into early teen years, I couldn't wait for 10:30 p.m. on Saturday night. That is when Creature Feature aired on channel 4, WSMV, in Nashville. At exactly 10:30, an announcer would come on and say,

"Each of us carries upon his shoulders this bony sarcophagus, the grinning face of death. Within it resides the human brain, encompassing within its pulsating grey mass the totality of the cosmic consciousness. What a delicate instrument; capable of thoughts of inexpressible beauty, but often enslaved in mindless terrors by monstrous horrors that the mind cannot fathom, and indeed, horrors that may not exist except within the bony confines of the human brain box. This is Creature Feature... exploring the realms of the unknown. And now, from deep within the catacombs beneath our studios, here is your master of terrormonies, Sir Cecil Creape."

Sir Cecil (pronounced ses-cil) Creape was creepy. As the announcer was introducing the show, Sir Cecil would descend from a stone staircase to the sounds of water dripping ever so slowly. When he finally reached the floor of his dungeon, in an unmistakable droll, Sir Cecil would say, "Did someone call?" Then he would look into the camera and say, "Oh, there you are!" 

The dungeon, that was supposedly deep beneath the studios of Channel 4, had rock walls and a large bookshelf, on which rested a few books, a skull, and a framed picture of Floyd Kephart, political analyst in Nashville during the seventies. For some reason the protrayer of Sir Cecil (Whom I will reveal in a minute) thought it was funny to have a picture of Floyd on the mantle, and would refer to Floyd from time to time with such jokes as "Suffering Kepharts," or "That is almost as frightening as Floyd Kephart!"

Sir Cecil was an odd looking character; a short, round little fellow, bald on top with just a bit of hair on the sides. He wore a dark blue cape with a huge purple collar and a chain mail tunic. He had a hump back and walked in a slow, lurching style. He had a large scar across his forehead and wore a monocle in one eye. He wore a set of deformed teeth and always carried a strange looking lamp in one hand

Sir Cecil Creape was actually Russ McCown, a film editor for WSMV. He had a long history of camera work and film editing - In fact, he was the person who shot the very first color commercial in Nashville in 1956. Russ got the name of Sir Cecil from Cecil B. DeMille, the lgreat actor/director of such movies as "The Ten Commandments." He later described his character as a cross between the Hunchback of Notre Dame and Oliver Hardy.

Something else I discovered later on is that one of the main writers of the show was Pat Sajack, star of Wheel of Fortune. Sajack was an announcer and part-time weatherman at WSMV during my childhood.

Wait, I hear the steady drip, drip, drip, drip of water.

"Did someone call?"
 
(Below are a two Creature Feature segments.  I hope they creep you out just like they did me when I was a child.)
 

 
 

Psalm 63

My soul thirsteth for thee

My flesh longeth for thee

In a dry and thirsty land where no water stands

I will seek thee

To see thy power

To see thy glory

To know your love is the lovingkind

I will praise thee

And I will bless thee while I live

I will lift up my hands in thy name

I will lift up my hands in thy name

In a dry and thirsty land where no water stands

I will see thee

The Road To Burkesville

For those of you who do not know, for the past several weeks, road crews have been busy rebuilding that portion of Highway 1590 here at the radio station in preparation for the by-pass that is being built around town. That part of the road has been closed while the work is being done, and one of the detour routes is the Old Burkesville Road. The Old Burkesville Road was built nearly 200 years ago, so it was not built with today's traffic in mind, and it was definitely not built to handle the amount of traffic that has had to travel the road the past few weeks.

The Old Burkesville Road is one of the oldest roads in the county. Just prior to the year 1800, the third family to settle in here was the Wood family. They had moved from Virginia to North Carolina after the American Revolution, and now they were headed to a new area in Kentucky that had just opened for settlements east of the Green River. The Wood family chose to settle at Stockton's Valley, where they quickly established themselves as leaders in the community. They helped organize the first Church in the valley, Clear Fork Baptist Church. William Wood was the town surveyor and its sheriff. The Church minutes of 1813 state that William's brother, Samuel, was appointed overseer of the Burkesville Road from Robert Davis’ to the county line. That area of the community was known as Wood's Gap back then. A portion of the road that Samuel Wood helped build later became known as Wood Street. It still bears that name today.

When more automobiles began using the road, and when trucks hauling goods and services got bigger, the need arose to build a bigger road, and so around 1931, nearly 100 years later, the Burkesville Road, as we know it today, was built.

What's In A Name?

There is an old proverb that says 'good men must die, but death cannot kill their names.'

When we chose the name Marina for my daughter, I was a little skeptical at first because of all the marina's where I live, but she IS Marina and I could not imagine her name being anything else. Most people are named after their ancestors. My great-great-grandfather was George Washington Boles.  His cousin was Abraham Lincoln Boles. My great-grandfather was Ulysses S. Frost.  His nickname was Grant.

When I was born, my dad wanted to name me Roy Rogers Speck. "I think NOT," said my mom.  I am glad, too. Sorry Roy, but a lifetime of always being serenaded with "Happy trails to you until we meet again," would have been a little too much. Western TV shows were popular back then, so it could have been worse. He could have wanted to name me Zorro or Festus.

I used to tease my son, Elijah, by telling him that we almost named him Michael Jackson Speck. Although he would never admit it, for a few moments he actually believed me.

For the past several months, I have been keeping up with Rand Paul of Bowling Green. He is a Republican candidate for the U.S. Senate in Kentucky and he has become very popular.  Fox and CNN are always talking about him and I have been thinking that, IF he wins the election, I might drop the Y from my first name, totally ditch my last name and start using my middle name. So, it would be RAND RAY.

I said I MIGHT. I didn't say that I would.



HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!!