The man who taught me how to play the guitar was Dave Peters, a phenomenal mandolinist who lived and worked in Houston and, later, across the world. His fingers fairly flew over the strings of the tiny instrument, bringing to vibrancy everything from Doc Watson's bluegrass "Sheep in the Meadow," to the classical jazz of Django Reinhart.
He was the one who introduced me to bluegrass festivals -- Nacogdoches, Winfield, KS -- and he was the one who gave me a book of poetry by Sara Teasdale.
Dave had an impressive book collection and he had no reservations about sharing or even giving away his tomes. He lived in a big house with several other musicians in the hip part of town and one night he invited me to come and sit in on a jam session. I had absolutely no intention of trying to play in front of that bunch -- one of them was a string bass player for the symphony, another was a teenage phenom from the piney woods of East Texas who later went on to make a name for himself.
No, I just went to listen and to join in on the conversations. And to see my teacher's book collection. I'd heard tell it was varied and interesting, just the type I like to browse.
And so I left later that night with the collected works of Sara Teasdale, a gift from Dave who said he'd read it enough times he'd memorized all the poems worth knowing. Teasdale, who died in 1933, was an American poet famous in her day and whose work entitled Love Songs received the first Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1918.
There were many good pieces in the book and I held onto it for many years, long after I'd stopped taking guitar lessons, long after I'd lost touch with Dave, and long after I learned he'd died suddenly in his sleep.
I still remember one of the poems, because I loved the image of "a fire that once was singing gold."
Ironically, the poem I remember is titled, "Let It Be Forgotten."
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.
Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long-forgotten snow.
Dave Peters has been gone nearly 12 years now.
They buried him in Kentucky, home of the blue grass and the music he loved so much.
Wordly discourse on everything from the sad state of public education, politics and world peace to vegetarianism, breast vs. bottle, religious persecution, bad media, and all manner of life's vagaries.
June 7, 2011
The sins of the fathers
I've never thought that children should pay for the sins of the fathers, but it happens more often than I care to admit.
Recently, I read an article about the children of Nazi soldiers and how these now-grown descendants are working hard to get to the truth about their infamous ancestors. With family trees obscured by years of lies, these adults, now in their late 40s and early 50s and 60s, not only have to confront the atrocities of their relatives but they have to reconcile that horrible knowledge with what they know about themselves.
Some of these children never married, never had children of their own, because they were so afraid they had inherited some sort of "monster gene" that could be passed along. Many children of Nazis have lived their lives in shame and fear of being found out.
I can't imagine paying daily for the sins of my father, but I'm about to get a front-row seat to how this works out for my own children.
In this case, they are going to pay a heavy price for the sins of their mother. Me.
I offended a friend whose children have been friends with my children since everyone was a toddler. Not only was I offensive in the first place, I remained so in the aftermath. In other words, even as I write this, I am still offensive.
I am having such a hard time understanding the deeper nature of the reasons why my actions were offensive that I've all but given up.
My children's friends will not be allowed to come over to play, even though none of them are at fault or have anything in any way to do with the disagreement between their mothers. I even went so far as to point out that it would be okay for the adults to be at odds as long as we let our kids be kids and at least have their friendship on an even keel.
That suggestion didn't go over too well. Naive on my part, I see that now.
My son asked me again today when the boy he calls his best friend would be coming over and I had to remind him that he'll likely never see his buddy again -- at least not until they're both old enough to pick their own friends and drive themselves where they want to go.
He looked puzzled for a minute and said, "Why can't you just deal with your stuff and let us play? We have fun and that's what being a kid is all about."
I told him that sometimes no matter how you deal with things they don't work out and that I was sorry about him losing his friend. I told him that I guess it's my fault -- because apparently it is. "That's okay," he said solemnly. "It's your fault but I still love you."
More than anything else, I'm sorry for my children. I'm sorry for my friend's children.
They are all paying for the sins of the adults, and I think this is the most profound loss of all.
Recently, I read an article about the children of Nazi soldiers and how these now-grown descendants are working hard to get to the truth about their infamous ancestors. With family trees obscured by years of lies, these adults, now in their late 40s and early 50s and 60s, not only have to confront the atrocities of their relatives but they have to reconcile that horrible knowledge with what they know about themselves.
Some of these children never married, never had children of their own, because they were so afraid they had inherited some sort of "monster gene" that could be passed along. Many children of Nazis have lived their lives in shame and fear of being found out.
I can't imagine paying daily for the sins of my father, but I'm about to get a front-row seat to how this works out for my own children.
In this case, they are going to pay a heavy price for the sins of their mother. Me.
I offended a friend whose children have been friends with my children since everyone was a toddler. Not only was I offensive in the first place, I remained so in the aftermath. In other words, even as I write this, I am still offensive.
I am having such a hard time understanding the deeper nature of the reasons why my actions were offensive that I've all but given up.
My children's friends will not be allowed to come over to play, even though none of them are at fault or have anything in any way to do with the disagreement between their mothers. I even went so far as to point out that it would be okay for the adults to be at odds as long as we let our kids be kids and at least have their friendship on an even keel.
That suggestion didn't go over too well. Naive on my part, I see that now.
My son asked me again today when the boy he calls his best friend would be coming over and I had to remind him that he'll likely never see his buddy again -- at least not until they're both old enough to pick their own friends and drive themselves where they want to go.
He looked puzzled for a minute and said, "Why can't you just deal with your stuff and let us play? We have fun and that's what being a kid is all about."
I told him that sometimes no matter how you deal with things they don't work out and that I was sorry about him losing his friend. I told him that I guess it's my fault -- because apparently it is. "That's okay," he said solemnly. "It's your fault but I still love you."
More than anything else, I'm sorry for my children. I'm sorry for my friend's children.
They are all paying for the sins of the adults, and I think this is the most profound loss of all.
June 5, 2011
Where none was meant . . .
I've recently had the distinct misfortune of offending someone when no offense was meant. It's an interesting place to be, if not a little lonely, because it forces me to examine again why we do the things we do -- or not.
The details of the alleged offense are not important. What matters more to me is how a perceived slight is dealt with. What's the responsibility of the offended party? What's the responsibility of the one who has been deemed offensive?
I don't have those answers, but I did a little research into the subject today and found some thoughts by other people that shed a little light on a fairly murky topic.
If you've ever been offended -- or if you've ever offended -- this post is for you.
Slate.com published an article in 2008 titled "Why humans are so quick to take offense, and what that means for the presidential campaign," by Emily Yoffe.
Ms. Yoffe explores the fascinating biology and psychology behind our tendencies to get bent out of shape when something doesn't go our way. With all due respect to copyright laws, I quote from her piece:
A paradox of human life is that the evolutionary forces that have made us cooperative and empathetic are the same ones that have made us prickly and explosive. Jonathan Haidt, a psychology professor at the University of Virginia, is a leading theorist in the field of moral psychology. He says the paired emotions of gratitude and vengeance helped us become the ultrasocial, ultrasuccessful species that we are. Gratitude allows us to expand our social network and recruit new allies; vengeance makes sure our new friends don't take advantage of us.
Study the topic of "taking offense" and you realize people are like tuning forks, ready to vibrate with indignation. So why do humans seem equipped with a thrumming tabulator, incessantly calculating whether we are getting proper due and deference?
According to researchers, calibrating our responses to social interactions usually occurs below our conscious awareness. Yale psychologist John Bargh says getting on with life would be unmanageable if we didn't have a constantly running, under-the-surface sense of how to respond to situations. In his experiments, Bargh has shown that many of our social judgments and actions are automatic, and after the fact our brains make up a justification.
Humans have superb abilities to evaluate the defects of everyone else. The glitch, Haidt says, is that we're blind to our own flaws. He points out that Jesus used this very metaphor when he said, "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." Haidt says we think that our perception of events is the objective truth, while everyone else's version is deluded by their self-interest.
"Once we're angry, irritated, we become prosecutors, and our reasoning gets hijacked by our need to build our own case," he says. So he suggests we can stop the prosecution by making even a small gesture of conciliation. We don't have to acknowledge we are wholly in the wrong, but changing our tone, conceding we shouldn't have said something, or said it in such a way, can trigger the reciprocity impulse in our opponent.
Some researchers recommend that when it comes to feeling offended, we could benefit from becoming a little bit Buddhist. Stephanie Preston, head of the University of Michigan's Ecological Neuroscience Lab, says: "The more attached you are to your sense of self, the more you see forces trying to attack that self. If you have a more Buddhist view, and are less attached to self, you are less likely to see offense."
Now we move from the evolutionary/psychological/Buddhist perspectives into the worldview of Christianity. The Bible has a lot to say on the subjects of offense, forgiveness, pomposity, and self vs. someone else.
The following comes from a 2007 devotional by Christian author Randy Robinson titled "Taking Offense."
It's instructive . . .
Often we take offense -- even when it’s not ours to take. Offense will come our way. We don’t have to go looking for it. When we do, we find offense in places where there is little or no cause for it. This is not simply foolishness, it is dangerous. It can lead to an overblown sense of victimization. Those who constantly take offense begin to feel as if life is not fair or that the world is out to get them. This mindset is diametrically opposed to Jesus declaration that Christians should “rejoice and be glad” when persecuted by the world (Matthew 5:11-12).
Dennis Prager, a brilliant author, lecturer and radio host, calls victimhood “the greatest single cause of evil.” He points out that Nazism arose from a sense of German victimhood, communism from a belief that the working man is the victim and Islamism from the idea that Muslims are victims of an oppressive Jewish-American conspiracy.
“The preoccupation of much of America with telling whole groups that they are victims -- of racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia and classism, among other American sins -- can only increase cruelty and evil in America,” Prager asserts.
Christians should not give in to the temptation to play the social martyr. We should stand up for our beliefs and defend the assaults on our faith, but never look for reasons to take offense. To the contrary, we must proactively forgive those who offend us, whether that offense is real or merely perceived. Otherwise, we play the part of the angry, bitter, reactionary victim. In that state of mind, we cannot respond with patience and love. Instead, we respond in a manner that genuinely gives offense.
For anyone reading this who wonders whether they have unwittingly committed an offense, or who has already been the recipient of a sudden, unmerited, and colossal freakout, I have only this advice:
Keep calm, and carry on. You can only do the next thing -- whatever that next thing is -- and pray for a satisfactory resolution.
The details of the alleged offense are not important. What matters more to me is how a perceived slight is dealt with. What's the responsibility of the offended party? What's the responsibility of the one who has been deemed offensive?
I don't have those answers, but I did a little research into the subject today and found some thoughts by other people that shed a little light on a fairly murky topic.
If you've ever been offended -- or if you've ever offended -- this post is for you.
Slate.com published an article in 2008 titled "Why humans are so quick to take offense, and what that means for the presidential campaign," by Emily Yoffe.
Ms. Yoffe explores the fascinating biology and psychology behind our tendencies to get bent out of shape when something doesn't go our way. With all due respect to copyright laws, I quote from her piece:
A paradox of human life is that the evolutionary forces that have made us cooperative and empathetic are the same ones that have made us prickly and explosive. Jonathan Haidt, a psychology professor at the University of Virginia, is a leading theorist in the field of moral psychology. He says the paired emotions of gratitude and vengeance helped us become the ultrasocial, ultrasuccessful species that we are. Gratitude allows us to expand our social network and recruit new allies; vengeance makes sure our new friends don't take advantage of us.
Study the topic of "taking offense" and you realize people are like tuning forks, ready to vibrate with indignation. So why do humans seem equipped with a thrumming tabulator, incessantly calculating whether we are getting proper due and deference?
According to researchers, calibrating our responses to social interactions usually occurs below our conscious awareness. Yale psychologist John Bargh says getting on with life would be unmanageable if we didn't have a constantly running, under-the-surface sense of how to respond to situations. In his experiments, Bargh has shown that many of our social judgments and actions are automatic, and after the fact our brains make up a justification.
Humans have superb abilities to evaluate the defects of everyone else. The glitch, Haidt says, is that we're blind to our own flaws. He points out that Jesus used this very metaphor when he said, "You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." Haidt says we think that our perception of events is the objective truth, while everyone else's version is deluded by their self-interest.
"Once we're angry, irritated, we become prosecutors, and our reasoning gets hijacked by our need to build our own case," he says. So he suggests we can stop the prosecution by making even a small gesture of conciliation. We don't have to acknowledge we are wholly in the wrong, but changing our tone, conceding we shouldn't have said something, or said it in such a way, can trigger the reciprocity impulse in our opponent.
Some researchers recommend that when it comes to feeling offended, we could benefit from becoming a little bit Buddhist. Stephanie Preston, head of the University of Michigan's Ecological Neuroscience Lab, says: "The more attached you are to your sense of self, the more you see forces trying to attack that self. If you have a more Buddhist view, and are less attached to self, you are less likely to see offense."
Now we move from the evolutionary/psychological/Buddhist perspectives into the worldview of Christianity. The Bible has a lot to say on the subjects of offense, forgiveness, pomposity, and self vs. someone else.
The following comes from a 2007 devotional by Christian author Randy Robinson titled "Taking Offense."
It's instructive . . .
Often we take offense -- even when it’s not ours to take. Offense will come our way. We don’t have to go looking for it. When we do, we find offense in places where there is little or no cause for it. This is not simply foolishness, it is dangerous. It can lead to an overblown sense of victimization. Those who constantly take offense begin to feel as if life is not fair or that the world is out to get them. This mindset is diametrically opposed to Jesus declaration that Christians should “rejoice and be glad” when persecuted by the world (Matthew 5:11-12).
Dennis Prager, a brilliant author, lecturer and radio host, calls victimhood “the greatest single cause of evil.” He points out that Nazism arose from a sense of German victimhood, communism from a belief that the working man is the victim and Islamism from the idea that Muslims are victims of an oppressive Jewish-American conspiracy.
“The preoccupation of much of America with telling whole groups that they are victims -- of racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia and classism, among other American sins -- can only increase cruelty and evil in America,” Prager asserts.
Christians should not give in to the temptation to play the social martyr. We should stand up for our beliefs and defend the assaults on our faith, but never look for reasons to take offense. To the contrary, we must proactively forgive those who offend us, whether that offense is real or merely perceived. Otherwise, we play the part of the angry, bitter, reactionary victim. In that state of mind, we cannot respond with patience and love. Instead, we respond in a manner that genuinely gives offense.
For anyone reading this who wonders whether they have unwittingly committed an offense, or who has already been the recipient of a sudden, unmerited, and colossal freakout, I have only this advice:
Keep calm, and carry on. You can only do the next thing -- whatever that next thing is -- and pray for a satisfactory resolution.
May 29, 2011
Someone FINALLY said it!!! And in print, no less!!!
The June 2011 issue of Atlantic magazine is a must-read for anyone who cares about the education of American children. Written by Joel Klein, former chancellor of New York city schools and the prosecutor who made Bill Gates and Microsoft cry "uncle," the article explores the real reasons behind the failure of American public education.
Klein fought hard to change the status quo in NY public schools. He lost.
Calling today's public education "essentially a government monopoly," Klein notes that "whether a school does well or poorly, it will get the students it needs to stay in business, because most kids have no other choice."
So, what IS the "business" of public education? Klein explores this with a cynicism usually found in people like me, commoners who have bucked the system for so long that we're usually deemed reactionary, unbalanced, or downright hateful.
"Let's start with the politicians. From their point of view, the school system can be enormously helpful, providing patronage hires, school-placement opportunities for connected constituents, the means to get favored community and business programs adopted and funded, and politically advantageous ties to schools and parents in their communities," Klein writes.
Klein goes on to describe an instance in which he argued before the NY state assembly to end patronage hires. Politicians pretended to be shocked but afterward Klein was told he could count on one committee member's future support if only he (Klein) would make sure a school principal in the member's district wasn't fired. So much for pleading ignorance of patronage, eh?
In another instance, Klein writes about his reorganization of the school system in which he minimized the power of 32 local superintendents. A local official called Klein and asked how he'd get "constituent services" once the reorg was complete. Klein replied, "What's that?" and the official said, "How do I get a kid into a school when I need to?" When Klein tried to explain that admission to the school system could not be preferential, the official said, "Go f**k yourself," and hung up.
I know, I know, you're waiting for me to explain what all this has to do with public education. Folks, what I've just presented IS public education, at least in New York City.
Without completely violating copyright laws, I'm going to quote a few other "revelations" from Klein's article. These little nuggets speak volumes:
* The gains we have made in improving our schools are negligible -- even though we have doubled our spending (in inflation adjusted dollars) on K-12 public education.
*On America's latest exams, one third or fewer of 8th grade students were proficient in mat, science, or reading.
*ACT, the respected national organization that administers college-admissions tests, recently found that 76 percent of our high-school graduates 'were not adequately prepared academically for first-year college courses.'
*The World Economic Forum ranks the U.S. 48th in math and science education.
*Politicians do what the teachers' unions want, not what children need.
*Substandard teachers are nearly impossible to get rid of, at least in NY schools.
*Teachers who are "burned out" continue to bide their time so they can receive uber-generous benefits upon retirement. They inflict their apathy and indifference upon their students.
*Charter schools that have been successful are derided as insignificant exceptions. Instead of trying to figure out what they've done right, teachers' unions and other invested public school proponents dismiss these schools as aberrations.
Klein also quotes former United Federation of Teachers president Al Shanker, exposing some hard truths about the grownups in charge of children's most important institution aside from their families:
"When schoolchildren start paying union dues, that's when I'll start representing the interests of schoolchildren," Shanker is quoted as saying.
Towards the end of the article Klein draws upon Shanker's words again, this time from a 1993 speech to the prestigious Pew Forum: Shanker said, "We are at the point that the auto industry was at a few years ago. They could see they were losing market share every year and still not believe that it really had anything to do with the quality of the product. . . I think we will get -- and deserve -- the end of public education through some sort of privatization scheme if we don't behave differently."
Klein's prognosis for public education isn't pretty. "Time is running out," he writes. "Without political leadership willing to take risks and build support for 'radical reform,' and without a citizenry willing to insist on those reforms, our schools will continue to decline. . . (T)he global marketplace will be very unforgiving to a populace that doesn't have the skills it demands."
Klein fought hard to change the status quo in NY public schools. He lost.
Calling today's public education "essentially a government monopoly," Klein notes that "whether a school does well or poorly, it will get the students it needs to stay in business, because most kids have no other choice."
So, what IS the "business" of public education? Klein explores this with a cynicism usually found in people like me, commoners who have bucked the system for so long that we're usually deemed reactionary, unbalanced, or downright hateful.
"Let's start with the politicians. From their point of view, the school system can be enormously helpful, providing patronage hires, school-placement opportunities for connected constituents, the means to get favored community and business programs adopted and funded, and politically advantageous ties to schools and parents in their communities," Klein writes.
Klein goes on to describe an instance in which he argued before the NY state assembly to end patronage hires. Politicians pretended to be shocked but afterward Klein was told he could count on one committee member's future support if only he (Klein) would make sure a school principal in the member's district wasn't fired. So much for pleading ignorance of patronage, eh?
In another instance, Klein writes about his reorganization of the school system in which he minimized the power of 32 local superintendents. A local official called Klein and asked how he'd get "constituent services" once the reorg was complete. Klein replied, "What's that?" and the official said, "How do I get a kid into a school when I need to?" When Klein tried to explain that admission to the school system could not be preferential, the official said, "Go f**k yourself," and hung up.
I know, I know, you're waiting for me to explain what all this has to do with public education. Folks, what I've just presented IS public education, at least in New York City.
Without completely violating copyright laws, I'm going to quote a few other "revelations" from Klein's article. These little nuggets speak volumes:
* The gains we have made in improving our schools are negligible -- even though we have doubled our spending (in inflation adjusted dollars) on K-12 public education.
*On America's latest exams, one third or fewer of 8th grade students were proficient in mat, science, or reading.
*ACT, the respected national organization that administers college-admissions tests, recently found that 76 percent of our high-school graduates 'were not adequately prepared academically for first-year college courses.'
*The World Economic Forum ranks the U.S. 48th in math and science education.
*Politicians do what the teachers' unions want, not what children need.
*Substandard teachers are nearly impossible to get rid of, at least in NY schools.
*Teachers who are "burned out" continue to bide their time so they can receive uber-generous benefits upon retirement. They inflict their apathy and indifference upon their students.
*Charter schools that have been successful are derided as insignificant exceptions. Instead of trying to figure out what they've done right, teachers' unions and other invested public school proponents dismiss these schools as aberrations.
Klein also quotes former United Federation of Teachers president Al Shanker, exposing some hard truths about the grownups in charge of children's most important institution aside from their families:
"When schoolchildren start paying union dues, that's when I'll start representing the interests of schoolchildren," Shanker is quoted as saying.
Towards the end of the article Klein draws upon Shanker's words again, this time from a 1993 speech to the prestigious Pew Forum: Shanker said, "We are at the point that the auto industry was at a few years ago. They could see they were losing market share every year and still not believe that it really had anything to do with the quality of the product. . . I think we will get -- and deserve -- the end of public education through some sort of privatization scheme if we don't behave differently."
Klein's prognosis for public education isn't pretty. "Time is running out," he writes. "Without political leadership willing to take risks and build support for 'radical reform,' and without a citizenry willing to insist on those reforms, our schools will continue to decline. . . (T)he global marketplace will be very unforgiving to a populace that doesn't have the skills it demands."
The lesson of Flanders Fields
Tomorrow is Memorial Day and although it's a holiday traditionally fraught with barbecues and sports events, it's really a holiday to commemorate the soldiers lost in battle.
As year-round homeschoolers, I try to make sure we don't spend such holidays without making an effort to learn something from them or about them.
This year, before we embark on our picnic and play, we're going to learn about the history of Memorial Day and the poem In Flanders Fields written by WWI Canadian soldier John McCrae.
It's one of the few poems I cannot read without crying.
My daughters will have to read it aloud to me, and then they'll get to copy it in their own handwriting.
After that, we're going to talk about the life of the poet himself and the girls will write a short dictation about him.
There's a beautiful poppy picture to color, and a one-folder lapbook to make.
Somewhere in all of this, we've got little American flags to post in our front yard and I'll tell them once again about the brave men in their family who have served or are serving our country in peacetime and in the Iraq War, war in Afghanistan, Korean War, both world wars, the Civil War, the War of 1812, and the American Revolutionary War.
They are:
Dillon Blevins (American Revolutionary War)
Armstead Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins, Jr. (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Henry Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Benjamin Franklin Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Thomas Hamby (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Elijah T. Wells (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Leonard Hamby (WWI)
Howard I. Evans (for Canada, WWI)
Clifford Evans (WWII)
Lloyd Evans (WWII)
Howard Evans (WWII)
Dallas Evans (Korean War)
Randall C. Evans (Afghanistan)
Chris Hamby (Iraq and Kosovo)
Wells Hamby, Jr. (Navy during peacetime)
A grateful nation may pay its tribute tomorrow and then again on Veterans' Day in October, but a grateful family remembers these men all year long. We are proud of their courage and willingness to act on their highest sense of right, and for those who are still with us we pray they return safely home soon.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
As year-round homeschoolers, I try to make sure we don't spend such holidays without making an effort to learn something from them or about them.
This year, before we embark on our picnic and play, we're going to learn about the history of Memorial Day and the poem In Flanders Fields written by WWI Canadian soldier John McCrae.
It's one of the few poems I cannot read without crying.
My daughters will have to read it aloud to me, and then they'll get to copy it in their own handwriting.
After that, we're going to talk about the life of the poet himself and the girls will write a short dictation about him.
There's a beautiful poppy picture to color, and a one-folder lapbook to make.
Somewhere in all of this, we've got little American flags to post in our front yard and I'll tell them once again about the brave men in their family who have served or are serving our country in peacetime and in the Iraq War, war in Afghanistan, Korean War, both world wars, the Civil War, the War of 1812, and the American Revolutionary War.
They are:
Dillon Blevins (American Revolutionary War)
Armstead Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins (War of 1812)
Hugh A. Blevins, Jr. (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Blevins (Civil War -- Confederacy)
John Henry Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Benjamin Franklin Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
William Stephens (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Thomas Hamby (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Elijah T. Wells (Civil War -- Confederacy)
Leonard Hamby (WWI)
Howard I. Evans (for Canada, WWI)
Clifford Evans (WWII)
Lloyd Evans (WWII)
Howard Evans (WWII)
Dallas Evans (Korean War)
Randall C. Evans (Afghanistan)
Chris Hamby (Iraq and Kosovo)
Wells Hamby, Jr. (Navy during peacetime)
A grateful nation may pay its tribute tomorrow and then again on Veterans' Day in October, but a grateful family remembers these men all year long. We are proud of their courage and willingness to act on their highest sense of right, and for those who are still with us we pray they return safely home soon.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
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