Something To Think About

In the Bible, in the sixth chapter of Genesis, we read, "And GOD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And it repented the LORD that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart."

I read those verses the other day and it started me thinking about the things I think about and as I began to study the issue for a story, I ran across an article that was written several years ago by Charles Greer, who at the time was primarily a consultant and industry trainer for salespeople and technicians in the air conditioning and plumbing industries. His article about what we think was too good to pass up, so I am going to re-post parts of it here. Mr. Greer writes some good stuff so it it well worth the read.

Several years ago, the National Science Foundation said we think a thousand thoughts per hour, or about 12,000 thoughts per day. A deep thinker will think 50,000 thoughts per day. 

Imagine that, fifty percent of the time, we are positive in our thinking. For many, that still means twenty-five thousand negative thoughts are being programmed every day, along with the consequent negative realities that are created by them. Watch your thoughts—they are blueprints for actions. A great deal of what we see depends on what we're looking for. Ugly thoughts make ugly faces. It is important that we review our thoughts each day. Many of us are not aware of how much we actually think or how negative our attitudes might be. We must not let our thoughts take charge of us.

Positive thinking is the only way to produce positive results.

Every thought you think, everything you believe contains enough creative power to bring about the condition or experience or circumstance you're thinking about. The things you habitually think about, the thoughts you habitually think, the things you habitually say to yourself will mold and shape every aspect of your life.

What are you thinking about?

Negative self-talk is as bad a habit as you can have and most people are afflicted with it. Habits are first cobwebs, then they become chains. Chains of habits are too weak to be felt until they are too strong to be broken. Bad habits are like comfortable beds, asy to get into, but hard to get out of. Bad men excuse their faults while good men abandon them.

The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts. The city of happiness is in the state of mind. Happiness comes when we stop complaining about our troubles and begin to be thankful for the troubles we don't have. Some people find happiness in making the most of what they haven't got. Some people bring happiness wherever they go, others whenever they do. Every day, do something every day to make others happy, even if it means just leaving them alone.

The most important things in life are not things. Joy is not in things; it is in us. We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about. The need is not for more money, less disease, etc., but to change one's way of thinking.

You are only poor when you want more than you have. Poverty is a state of mind, and it's caused by a neighbor's new car. It is better to be short of cash than to be short of character. A poor man can be happy, but a happy man isn't poor. The happiest people are those who discover that what they should be doing and what they are doing are the same things.

An open mind is fine but be careful what you shovel into it. Be bold in what you stand for, be careful what you fall for. Unless we find beauty and happiness in our own backyards, we will never find them in the mountains.

To read the entire article by Charles Greer click here.

A Tribute To Elizabeth Taylor

Actress Elizabeth Taylor died Tuesday at age 79. She is well known here in Kentucky for her 1956 movie, Raintree County, which was filmed in different parts of the state.

Expected to be the next Gone With the Wind, the 3-hour Civil War drama, Raintree County, turned out to be a disappointment at the box office. But to Kentuckians, that did not matter. Elizabeth Taylor, a 24-year-old actress, dressed in her almost-scandalous form-fitting capri pants, had been here.

Raintree County premiered in Louisville in October 1957. At the time of the filming, Ms. Taylor was divorcing husband No. 2, Michael Wilding, for husband No. 3, Mike Todd, and Danville telephone operators reportedly said they heard plenty of phone calls between the three of them. While Ms. Taylor was on location in Danville, Todd sent her 200 long-stemmed roses and a $30,000 black pearl ring, Ms. Taylor's biographer, C. David Heymann, wrote in his 1995 book Liz.

MGM Studios and more than 100 actors moved into Danville to shoot the movie, which, cost $6 million dollars. It was the most expensive American film ever made at that time.

Raintree County was based on a novel by Ross Lockridge Jr. It earned four Academy Award nominations. The making of the movie was a big deal in Kentucky. Nearly half of the filming took place in Danville. A home near Somerset was used in the movie. Today, it is known as Raintree Inn. 15,000 pounds of props, 3,500 costumes, 216 tons of equipment, 135 crew members, and 119 speaking roles for a cast that included Eva Marie Saint, Nigel Patrick, Rod Taylor, Agnes Moorehead, and Lee Marvin. More than 300 locals, including a few from this area, served as extras.

Danville resident, Eleanor McDonald, recalled, “Stretch pants had just been invented and we’d never seen them before. They looked like you’d just melt and pour yourself into them. Elizabeth Taylor was wearing them and I thought my husband would fall off the back porch when he saw her. Oh, she was pretty.”

March Madness

People have gone plumb mad.

How can a person sit in front of the TV day and night between Thursday to Sunday and watch nothing but basketball is beyond me?

Wait, I am talking about own brother, and even my.....MOTHER!

It's March Madness!

And, there is a rumbling going on right now within the boundaries of the Wildcat Nation. 

Yes, the Kentucky Wildcats have their own nation. It stretches way beyond the outer limits of the universe...way beyond a galaxy far, far away.

Hello, I am the Notorious Meddler and I am a recovering Wildcats fanatic. It's true. All I needed on game day was a radio or a TV, and a pizza place that delivered, and it was GO BIG BLUE!

...and then, Duke defeated Kentucky in 1992.

But, lets not talk about that...

I would rather go back to when it all began -- the 1979 Magic Versus Bird NCAA Final Between Michigan State and Indiana State. It was the nation's top two players going up against one another. Life was good,and it was only the beginning.

I was h-double o-k, hooked, bay-bee!

Then came that fateful night on March 28, 1992. (Refer to the comment I made just five lines ago.)

That night, my poor TV must have been a nervous wreck. I did, after all, threaten to do it harm on more than one occasion by picking it up and throwing it out into the front yard. Poor, poor TV!

Normal U.K. fans will not understand what I am saying when I admit that I was too fanatical about the Wildcats, but I was, and after the greatest college basketball game EVER was over, so was my desire to be so fanatical about the Cats, or for any team or sport for that matter, Well, except the mighy, mighty Bulldogs of CCHS! Oh, don't get me wrong, I love Kentucky Basketball and am glad when we win, but nowadays I am not so into it that it controls me. I tried to watch the Kentucky-West Virginia game Saturday but I fell asleep with two minutes left to play.

According to one dictionary, being a fanatic means wildly excessive or irrational devotion, dedication, or enthusiasm. That's a Kentucky Wildcats fan!

My grandmother is the reason I was a Wildcats fanatic. She was one, too. She would sit in her rocking chair, dressed from head to toe in U.K. blue and white, holding a basketball that had been signed by then-coach, Tubby Smith. She was a die hard fan and always cheered enthusiastically for her beloved Wildcats.

There are over 4.3 million people living in Kentucky and most of them are fanatical about the University of Kentucky men's basketball team.

Once, after the Wildcats had played a poor game, legendary coach, Adolph Rupp, bumped into an elderly lady at the airport. "Sorry ma'am, no offense." She replied, "D--- little defense either."

It's March Madness.

People have gone plumb mad!

The Kneeling Camel

The camel, at the close of day

Kneels down upon the sandy plain

To have his burden lifted off

And rest to gain

My soul, thou too shouldst to thy knees

When the daylight draweth to a close

And let thy Master lift thy load

And grant repose

Else how canst thou tomorrow meet

With all tomorrow's work to do

If thou thy burden all the night

Dost carry through

The camel kneels at break of day

To have his guide replace his load

Then rises up again to take

The desert road

Sou thou shouldst kneel at morning's dawn

That God may give thee daily care

Assured that He no load too great

Will make thee bear

Anna Temple

Over The Hill To The Poor-House

Over the hill to the poor-house I'm trudgin' my weary way---

I, a woman of seventy, and only a trifle gray---

I, who am smart an' chipper, for all the years I've told,

As many another woman that's only half as old.

Over the hill to the poor-house---I can't quite make it clear!

Over the hill to the poor-house---it seems so horrid queer!

Many a step I've taken, a-toilin' to and fro,

But this is a sort of journey I never thought to go.

What is the use of heapin' on me a pauper's shame?

Am I lazy or crazy? am I blind or lame?

True, I am not so supple, nor yet so awful stout;

But charity ain't no favor, if one can live without.

I am ready and willin' an' anxious any day

To work for a decent livin' and pay my honest way;

For I can earn my victuals, an' more too, I'll be bound,

If anybody is willin' to only have me 'round.

Once I was young an' hand'some---I was, upon my soul---

Once my cheeks was roses, my eyes was black as coal;

And I can't remember, in them days, of hearin' people say,

For any kind of a reason, that I was in their way!

'Tain't no use of boastin' or talkin' over-free,

But many a house an' home was open then to me;

Many a han'some offer I had from likely men,

And nobody ever hinted that I was a burden then.

And when to John I was married, sure he was good and smart,

But he and all the neighbors would own I done my part;

For life was all before me, an' I was young an' strong,

And I worked my best an' smartest in tryin' to get along.

And so we worked together; and life was hard, but gay,

With now and then a baby to cheer us on our way.

Till we had half a dozen, an' all growed clean an' neat,

An' went to school like others, an' had enough to eat.

An' so we worked for the child'rn, and raised 'em every one---

Worked for 'em summer and winter, just as we ought to've done;

Only perhaps we humored 'em, which some good folks condemn,

But every couple's own child'rn's a heap the dearest to them!

Strange how much we think of OUR blessed little ones!---

I'd have died for my daughters, and I'd have died for my sons.

And God He made that rule of love; but when we're old and gray

I've noticed it sometimes, somehow, fails to work the other way.

Stranger another thing: when our boys an' girls was grown,

And when, exceptin' Charley, they'd left us there alone,

When John he nearer an' nearer came, an' dearer seemed to be,

The Lord of Hosts, He came one day an' took him away from me!

Still I was bound to struggle, an' never cringe or fall---

Still I worked for Charley, for Charley was now my all;

And Charley was pretty good to me, with scarce a word or frown,

Till at last he went a-courtin', and brought a wife from town.

She was somewhat dressy, an' hadn't a pleasant smile---

She was quite conceity, and carried a heap o' style;

But if ever I tried to be friends, I did with her, I know;

But she was hard and haughty, an' we couldn't make it go.

She had an edication, and that was good for her,

But when she twitted me on mine, 'twas carryin' things too far,

An' I told her once, 'fore company, (an' it almost made her sick)

That I never swallowed a grammer, nor 'et a 'rithmetic.

So 'twas only a few days before the thing was done---

They was a family of themselves, and I another one.

And a very little cottage one family will do,

But I never have seen a mansion that was big enough for two.

An' I never could speak to suit her, never could please her eye,

An' it made me independent, an' then I didn't try.

But I was terribly humbled, an' felt it like a blow,

When Charley turned agin me, an' told me I could go!

I went to live with Susan, but Susan's house was small,

And she was always a-hintin' how snug it was for us all;

And what with her husband's sisters, and what with child'rn three,

'Twas easy to discover there wasn't room for me.

An' then I went with Thomas, the oldest son I've got:

For Thomas's buildings'd cover the half of an acre lot,

But all the child'rn was on me---I couldn't stand their sauce---

And Thomas said I needn't think I was comin' there to boss.

An' then I wrote to Rebecca, my girl who lives out West,

And to Isaac, not far from her---some twenty miles at best;

And one of 'em said 'twas too warm there for anyone so old,

And t'other had an opinion the climate was too cold.

So they have shirked and slighted me, an' shifted me about---

So they have well nigh soured me, an' wore my old heart out;

But still I've borne up pretty well, an' wasn't much put down,

Till Charley went to the poor-master, an' put me on the town!

Over the hill to the poor-house---my child'rn dear, good-bye!

Many a night I've watched you when only God was nigh;

And God'll judge between us; but I will al'ays pray

That you shall never suffer the half that I do to-day!

Will Carleton, 1897

Dan Gunderson and Chris Julin of Minnesota Public Radio wrote: "The American dream is freedom and financial security. But it's possible to lose everything. One day you have a job, a family, a house. Then there's an accident, an illness, a poor choice. One misfortune piles on another. One hundred years ago, if you lost your health, or your mind, you might have faced the poor-house. It was a terrifying possibility - the slide from working, healthy person to the poor-house."

Growing up, I used to hear things like, "Careful what you do, otherwise you'll end up in the poor-house," or "Looks like I'm headed to the poor-house." As amusing as that might be, a poor-house reference is really no laughing matter. Most of us say we live there already. But, a century ago the poor-house was very much a reality.

According to the Adair County News.

August 8, 1900 - An old man whose name was Sloane, and who had been in the poor-house for several years, died last Sunday morning.

February 26, 1902 - The widow Burton and her little boy escaped from the poor-house Saturday and Sunday afternoon made their (court) appearance in Columbia. The little boy was sick and had walked himself down, looking more dead than alive.

October 12, 1904 - The Adair County Court did a righteous act last week when it elected Mrs. Leach poor-house keeper. She has heretofore filled the position, giving entire satisfaction.

September 29, 1909 - Mr. John Will Moore, who was a son of Dock Moore, died at the poor farm last Saturday. He met with a stroke of paralysis about three weeks ago, and being alone in the world, having no home, he was sent to the poor house by order of the Court.

By the late 1800s, there were thousands of poor-houses across the country and thousands of people died in poor-houses. Even though poor-houses began to disappear after the adoption of the Social Security program in the 1930s, some people wonder how far we've come from a time when poor people were simply thrown away.

Dixie's Little Darling

In 1902, 13-year-old Laura Talbott of Louisville, Kentucky became the idol of all true ex-confederate soldiers, when she refused to sing, "Marching Through Georgia," at the request of her teacher.

You see, "Marching Through Georgia," which was written by Henry Clay Work at the end of the Civil War in 1865, refers to U.S. Major General William Tecumseh Sherman's March to the Sea, which had occured late in the previous year.

Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song

Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along

Sing it as we used to sing it, 50,000 strong

While we were marching through Georgia

Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the jubilee!

Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!

So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea

While we were marching through Georgia

Sherman's March to the Sea, also known as the Savannah Campaign, began with Sherman's troops leaving the captured city of Atlanta, Georgia, on November 15, 1864 and ended with the capture of the port of Savannah five weeks later. It inflicted significant damage, particularly to industry and infrastructure, and also to civilian property. Military historian David Eicher wrote that Sherman "defied military principles by operating deep within enemy territory and without lines of supply or communication. He destroyed much of the South's potential and psychology to wage war."

Naturally, the song, "Marching Through Georgia," became widely popular with Union Army veterans after the war. But 13-year-old Laura Talbott apparently felt differently about the song, just as she apparently felt differently about the outcome of the war that had ended many years before she was even born. As word spread throughout the South that Laura had refused to sing the song, she became known as 'Dixie's Little Darling.' But, it wasn't just that Laura Talbott refused to sing "Marching Through Georgia" that made her the idol of all true ex-Confederate soldiers. There was a little more to it than that.

It was on a late July day in 1902. Miss Talbott had been invited to attend a Confederate reunion at Owensboro, Kentucky, where she was to be given a medal by some old Confederate soldiers in Georgia, who had heard about her refusal to sing the song in class. When the young teenager stepped up to the podium to accept her medal, she said the reason she refused to sing the song was because 'it was General Sherman's only claim to greatness.'

With that, the 4,000 ex-Confederates at the reunion went wild.



*From the Adair County News, 1902.

The Dream

On an old farm, known as the Jonathan Jones place, one mile from Gradyville in Adair County lived Mack Coomer and wife, both of whom who had reached the age of 60. Mr. Coomer, who was a good citizen, upright in his dealings, and just and courteous to his neighbors, was also a wicked man and had never given much time or attention to spiritual matters.

All that changed one night after Mr. Coomer and his wife had retired for the night. After deep sleep had been disturbed by a dream, Mr. Coomer awoke his wife to tell her that he has been warned in a dream that lightning would strike the house and kill him. He urged that they leave immediately, which they did, spending the remainder of the night with a neighbor.

The next morning when they returned home, they discovered that lightning had indeed struck their home,  even the very bedstead in which they had abandoned the night before.

This story originally appeared in the April 27, 1904 edition of the Adair County News. The story noted that Mr. Coomer 'has turned a leaf, so it is stated, and now holds family prayer every night.'

Long Live The Goat Man

(This photo was made in the 1950's as the Goat Man passed through my town)

Charles McCartney was born on July 6, 1901. In 1915, at age 14, he ran away from his family's Iowa farm. He eventually wound up in New York, and was soon married to a Spanish knife-thrower. When she got pregnant they tried to make it as farmers, but bad weather and the Great Depression wiped them out. About the same time, he experienced a religious awakening. A man on a mission, he hitched up his team of goats to a wagon and took to the open road with his wife and son. His wife made goatskin clothes for him and his son to wear as a gimmick during their travels, but she quickly grew tired of the road and returned to Iowa, taking their son with her.

Charles McCartney looked like a goat. He smelled like one, too because he rarely took a bath. You take a fellow who looks like a goat, travels around with goats, eats with goats, lies down among goats and smells like a goat and it won't be long before people will be calling him the Goat Man. And that is exactly how he got his name. Someone would spot the Goat Man and his goats coming down the highway, his wagon piled high. Word would get around and pretty soon parents would be driving their children out to meet him.

For decades he traveled the back roads of the Southeast. Sometimes there were as many as 30 goats. One team would pull a large wagon while baby goats and nannies rode. Great big billies walked behind to push the wagon up hills and to act as brakes. "People are goats, they just don't know it," he would often say. The old iron-wheeled wagon was piled high with garbage, lanterns, bedding, clothes, an old pot belly stove, and plenty of scrap metal that McCartney gathered and sold. McCartney would wander five or 10 miles along country roads each day, then pull over into a field in the late afternoon. He'd light a bonfire, which was never complete until he hurled an old tire on top. Curious townspeople would see the black smoke and wander to his campsite. There he would preach the Gospel, drink goats milk and sell picture postcards of himself.

Eventually settling in Jeffersonville, Georgia, he established the Free Thinking Christian Mission. From the mission he journeyed out with his goat-pulled wagon to preach his message of impending and eternal damnation for sinners. His path through the countryside was easily traceable from the distinctive wooden signs he tacked on trees by the roadside, signs bearing such harsh messages as "Prepare to Meet Thy God" with the fires of hell painted underneath.

Occasionally, McCartney was attacked and mugged during his trips around the country. During one such attack in 1969, three young men assaulted him while he slept in his cart. He suffered three broken ribs, and two of his favorite goats were killed. Following this incident McCartney retired to his Jeffersonville mission. In 1978 his home burned down, after which he purchased and lived in a bus.

In 1985, during one of his final journeys away from Georgia, McCartney set out on foot to California, hoping to meet the actress Morgan Fairchild, whom he wanted to marry. En route to California, he was again mugged and hospitalized for his injuries. Following his return to Georgia, he left the road for good in 1987. He spent his final years as a local celebrity at a nursing home in Macon, where he died at the age of ninety-seven on November 15, 1998.

The Goat Man came through this area quite regularly from 1936 through the late 1950's, and maybe until the early 60's. It is for sure he passed through at least twice between 1936 and 1939 with about 20 goats each time (Kentucky Stories/Byron Crawford).

During the mid 1950s, the Goat Man would come down U.S. 127 and through my town on his way back South. School classes at Clear Fork, which was located along his route, would be let out so students could go see the Goat Man, who would let the students pet the goats. My uncle was one of thos students. He well remembers the goats, the wagon and the pots and pans, and the junk on it, and the old bearded man known as the Goat Man.

Do you recall seeing the Goat Man? If so, I would love to hear your story. Send an e-mail in the space provided on my page.
 

Since writing this story, I have received hundreds of e-mails from folks in Tennessee, Georgia, South Carolina and Florida who remember seeing the Goat Man pass through their town. Thank you for your great response. There are too many e-mails to post here, but I wanted to include a few of the memories that have been shared with me. Also, be sure to read the comments section below.

When I was young, the Goat Man used to come through very often on the road we lived on. My grandfather and father knew him by his first name and he would stop to rest and talk. The last time I saw him was around 1963 when I was 12. He was a very interesting man who loved God. The pictures of him are just as I remember him. Thanks for keeping his memory alive. G.L., Rome, GA.

When I was a kid about 7 or 8, the Goat Man would stop in a small field about a mile from where I lived. Of course, our neighborhood mothers would make sure to tell us to stay away from him, but we would jump on our bikes and ride down to the campsite. We would play with the goats and listen to all the stories he would tell. He had a way of telling stories that would keep your attention and make you yearn for more. Soon, dad would drive down to the camp and tell us all to get home. When we finally got home from our visit with the Goat Man, mother would not let us in the house with our clothes on. She made us strip down in the yard and take bath number one under the garden hose. Then, we would have to go in the house and scrub again. Thanks, K.C., GA.

My father was transferred from North Carolina to Macon, Georgia in 1954. As a child of 12 when we moved here I was amazed at the sights of the big city. But the most memorable and unique sight I saw as we approached Macon was a very strange-looking man with a beard and a herd of goats pulling a loaded down wagon. Lo and behold, we later found out that we had encountered the infamous and notorious Goat Man! From time to time, after that first arrival in Macon, we would see the Goat Man here and there along the highways and byways of the area, and each time we were as thrilled as if we had seen the most famous movie star in the world. We loved to tell our cousins back in NC about this famous ‘creature’ and his goats, and although we never conversed with him, we felt as if we knew him well, and deemed him as a friend. T.R., Macon Georgia

I met the Goatman a few times. The time I remember best was when I was around 13 years old, and we killed 3 or 4 rabbitts for him, and he gave us a hand full of post cards. He was camped at Mt Pleaseant GA. - G.R.

Returning today from a funeral in Dublin, GA, I happened to see the old school bus that the Goat Man lived in back in the 1980's and 1990's. It was overgrown with small trees and vines and barely visible from US Hwy 80. When I got home, my brother-in-law had sent me a copy of a webpage you had written. At the end, it asked for Goat Man stories. I first remember seeing the Goat Man in 1963 or 1964 on the east side of Macon, GA. He was camped in a grove of pine trees in a triangular grassy area across from the Ocmulgee National Monument entrance. My mother drove us out to see him after coming back home from work and spotting him setting up camp. His wagon was filled with so much junk that I thought it would tip over. And, there were goats everywhere. He had them tied out, staked up, on top of the wagon, and on runs so they could get to all of the grass. Chess McCartney was so dirty you could barely see his hands, and he smelled like a thousand campfires and 200 goats. I could not believe that someone was actually hiding under that dirt and behind that beard. In later years, I remember occasionally driving past the old school bus he lived in and seeing him outside every once in a while with a few of his goats. J.R., Macon, GA

I live a few miles north of Macon, Georgia which is about 8 or 10 miles north of his bus (home sight). It was not unusual to see Chess walking around Macon at any given time of the day or night. He would hitchike up to Macon and then back down Hwy 80 to his home. Sometimes he would walk and pick up bottles and cans to sell. As a child, I remember him coming thru my home, which is about 150 miles from his home. My daddy would drive us out to his campsite in late afternoon to see him. I also remember getting behind his wagon along the highway and it would cause a back-up of traffic both ways as people slowed down to see him and his herd. H.F., Cairo, GA.

I met him back in the early 50's along the road in front of my Grand Father's Country Store. He and his goats spent the night in field owned by my grandfather. I remember him quite well.. He told some amazing stories to then a young kid from Savannah Georgia..

As a young child I remember the Goat Man coming thru our town (Sunnyside, Georgia) several times. When someone told us he was around we would all get in Daddy's car and go to see him. It was a wonderful experience for us kids and adults too. One year when he came thru my neighbor, who was always drunk, stole two of his goats and cooked them and sold them as cow meat. He and his friends went to jail for it. I believe this may be the incident that happened in 1969 where he was beatened and his goats were killed. same. S.B., Jackson, GA.

Helen writes...Oh, what memories your goat man bio brought back. I grew up in Chattanooga, TN. I can remember seeing the goat man several times during the 50's and 60's. One particular memory is quite vivid. He and his goats were traveling through East Ridge, TN on Highway 41. This would take him through the tunnel under Missionary Ridge. I wondered if he and the goats were going to enter the tunnel or go over the ridge. My parents also commented that they had seen him. He was well known, even though my family was not aware of his ministry.

The Calling

My grandparents grew up poor. Both came from large families and together they raised a large family. They were both Christians and they taught their children and their grandchildren to walk with the Lord as they did. They were together for fifty wonderful years. When he died she said she no longer wanted to live. One week after his passing, she went into the hospital, her body beaten down with emphysema that had plagued her for years. Two days later, she called her children to her bedside and, unable to speak because it took too much of her breath to even try, she took her finger and she wrote his name in the air. It was her way of telling them that she wanted to go to Heaven to be with her husband. She died two days later. It was a storybook ending to a fifty year marriage to the love of her life.

I think back on my childhood and I am able to recall the countless number of times I went to my grandparents home. My grandmothers bible was most always lying on the kitchen table, and most of the time she would be sitting there reading it. She would read aloud if there was someone to listen. Sitting at her kitchen table, I heard the stories of David and Goliath and about the den of lions and about Noah and the flood.

My grandparents lived the sort of Christian life we should all desire to live. Because of how they lived, most, if not all, in my family are Christians today. It is a great tribute to their faithfulness to God.

When we walk with the Lord in the light of his word, what a glory he sheds on our way! While we do his good will, he abides with us still, and with all who will trust and obey.

 

 

 

*In memory of Cecil and Dimple Speck.

Tuscon Shootings Affects Former Classmate

The shooting tragedy that happened Saturday in Tuscon, Arizona has shaken the entire country, including a former classmate of mine who lives in Tuscon.

As federal prosecutors brought charges Sunday against Jared Loughner, the gunman accused of attempting to assassinate U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, D-Arizona, and killing six people at a political event there, Mary K. Thompson was posting on Facebook her thoughts on the incident. "So very sad. Right on the corner of Oracle and Ina in a Safeway grocery store no less. I can't believe this has happened in our area of town. I never thought anything like this would happen there," said Thompson, who lived in the same community as I do during the 1970's. She graduated from high school with me. She moved with her husband to Tuscon in 1979 and, except for the seven years they lived in Kansas organizing a Church, have lived there ever since.

Investigators said they carried out a search warrant at Loughner's home and seized an envelope from a safe with messages such as "I planned ahead," "My assassination" and the name "Giffords" next to what appears to be the man's signature. He allegedly purchased the Glock pistol used in the attack in November at Sportsman's Warehouse in Tucson. Pima County Sheriff Clarence Dupnik said Sunday that Loughner acted alone.

Court documents also show that he had contact with Giffords in the past. Other evidence included a letter addressed to him on Giffords' congressional stationery in which she thanked him for attending a "Congress on your Corner" event at a mall in Tucson in 2007. Saturday's event was Giffords' first "Congress on your Corner" event with constituents of the new year.

Authorities released emergency calls in which a person witnessing the mass shooting outside a grocery store in Tucson describes a frantic scene. "I can't believe this was less than 10 minutes from home. I've been to that Safeway many times, and [my husband] and I were in a nearby restaurant not even a month ago," Thompson said. Loughner fired at Giffords' district director and shot indiscriminately at staffers and others standing in line to talk to the congresswoman, said Mark Kimble, a communications staffer for Giffords. "He was not more than three or four feet from the congresswoman and the district director," Kimble said, describing the scene as "just complete chaos, people screaming, crying."

"Someone in the crowd actually tackled the shooter and got the gun away from him. Otherwise there may have been more," Thompson wrote. The sheriff said three people helped subdue Loughner, described by a former classmate as a pot-smoking loner. Federal law enforcement officials were poring over versions of a MySpace page that included a mysterious "Goodbye friends" message published hours before the shooting and exhorted his friends to "Please don't be mad at me." In one of several YouTube videos, which featured text against a dark background, Loughner described inventing a new U.S. currency and complained about the illiteracy rate among people living in Giffords' congressional district in Arizona. "I know who's listening: Government Officials, and the People," Loughner wrote. "Nearly all the people, who don't know this accurate information of a new currency, aren't aware of mind control and brainwash methods. If I have my civil rights, then this message wouldn't have happen (sic)."

Loughner is accused of killing six people, including U.S. District Judge John M. Roll, an aide to Giffords, 30-year-old Gabe Zimmerman, and four others, including nine-year-old Christina Taylor Green, who was born on Sept. 11, 2001. She had been featured in a book called "Faces of Hope" that chronicled one baby from each state born on the day terrorists killed nearly 3,000 people in the U.S. Fourteen others were wounded in Saturday's shooting rampage, including Giffords. FBI Director Robert Mueller said the shooter's motive for the 10 a.m. attack was not known. Federal prosecutors charged Loughner with one count of attempted assassination of a member of Congress, two counts of killing an employee of the federal government and two counts of attempting to kill a federal employee. He also could face state charges in the killings.

In Loughner's middle-class neighborhood — about a five-minute drive from the scene — sheriff's deputies had much of the street blocked off. The neighborhood sits just off a bustling Tucson street and is lined with desert landscaping and palm trees. Neighbors said Loughner lived with his parents and kept to himself. He was often seen walking his dog, almost always wearing a hooded sweat shirt and listening to his iPod. "This idiot went to Thornydale Elementary and Tortolita Middle School. This whole thing is so crazy. [her son] will be at Tortolita next year -- so hard to believe there are these kinds of people right here," Thompson said.

Law enforcement officials said members of Congress reported 42 cases of threats or violence in the first three months of 2010, nearly three times the 15 cases reported during the same period a year earlier. Nearly all dealt with the health care bill, and Giffords was among the targets. She faced frequent backlash from the right over her support of the health care reform last year, and had her office vandalized the day the House approved the landmark measure.
Mary K. Cooper Thompson summed up what the entire nation is feeling when she said, "I honestly am shaken by this whole tragedy."

The Wesboro Church at Topeka, Kansas that is known for protesting at funerals has announced it will protest at the funerals of those killed in the Tuscon shooting. Mary K and her husband are helping organize a human shield to keep the protesters from being seen at the funerals.

Most of the content for this story was first reported on msnbc.com and involved several writers contributing from the Associated Press.

1/11/11

Today is 1/11/11.

A lot of people see 11:11 on their clocks. What is the significance of that?

I have no clue but September 11 is the 254th day of the year, but 2 + 4 + 5 = 11.

The date of the attack on the World Trade Center, 9/11, also means 9 + 1 +1 = 11.

September 11, there were 111 days left to the end of the year.

The first plane to hit the Towers was Flight 11.

The first tower collapsed within 11 seconds.

Flight #11 had 11 crew members — 2 pilots and 9 attendants.

The number of floors at the World Trade Center was 110 twice (110:110) or 11:11.

The State of New York is the 11th state added to the union.

Weird stuff.