PLEASE REMEMBER OUR FALLEN HEROES

BREAKING THE LOW COUNTRY BOIL JINX!

Three times before, my family has planned and had "low country boils". Each of them, from what I heard, was a great success and delicious. Once I even got to sample some leftover shrimp, but I had never been to one.

Each time one was planned I got sick on that day and had to send Judy on without me.

I've written before about "one less set of feet" being under the table and about what it would be like after one of us had passed on. It's not a happy thought, but there are things that remind you, once in a while, about that inevitability - things like when someone gets sick and has to pass on a family gathering.

My wife has four sisters and a brother (he lives in Atlanta and is not always able to come) and we are always together on holidays - it's tradition! Judy and I will be married 30 years this coming June 12th, and family gatherings have been a given on holidays from the beginning. Actually, it started long before I came along, but for me it's been 30 years of pure enjoyment and something I anticipate like Christmas itself!

We get together more often than on holidays too. Sometimes we just can't wait and someone schedules an evening out, or a weekend or vacation retreat together. It just makes life more enjoyable when you can share it with family. Friends are okay, but family is just special!

The times I've missed, and I've missed more than anyone, was an event I sulked over for days afterward. So, you can imagine how thankful and how wonderful it felt when I realized I was not going to miss this Memorial Day's "low country boil"!

The family loves being together, even though the boys and girls always segregate themselves, each finding their own corner. It has to be that way, especially for us guys, if we intend to communicate with each other. You see, we can hardly hear each other over the voices and laughter of the women folk! If you want a sample, just scroll down my sidebar until you see "Dragons Cackling"...click if you dare. This is not an unusual clip...it's typical...believe me!

So, I broke the jinx, finally, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I even drank more than one beer and had two cigars! First cigars in almost a year!

There are specific and timed steps to a "low country boil", as you know if you've ever had the pleasure, so there was a lot of yelling, "Is it boiling yet?!" Then there is the long awaited, "Start the timer!" Each question is followed by multiple people shouting an echo and more laughter!

It seems after each of the 7 steps (see large numbered photo) there is a 15-minute length of time before proceeding to the next step. So, after a couple of drinks, the yelling gets louder, and the comments get funnier! I could see exactly what I'd missed by being puny on the previous occasions.

Once I almost rolled in the yard when Gary, who's basically retired, told us about a day he had relaxed with one too many Miller Lites and went to the dog lot (he trains Labs) to pick up the day's dog business! He didn't think it too strange he didn't find any droppings until he got back to the house and looked down at the mess on his shoes! You had to be there to hear Gary tell it!

Let me tell you...the food was super great, but the company was beyond compare, as it always is. I was very glad all our shoes were still under the table once again.

MEMORIAL DAY CELEBRATIONS

Here's hoping your Memorial Celebration was as good as ours. GOD BLESS'EM!

DON'T YOU DARE FORGET THEM!

It's been 43 years since I was in Vietnam on Memorial Day. We had hot dogs and hamburgers even then...you do the same. I salute all the vets out there and even those that weren't!

IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO REMEMBER A SOLIDER

Do you remember The War of 1898? Me either, but I do remember The Spanish-American War, some battles of which were fought in the Philippines where Pvt. Johnson served. This was the war for the generation of Patrick Hayes Johnson, born in August of 1877. Patrick died almost 31 years after that war ended. He was killed in a tragic accident in 1929 at a railroad crossing.

Cecil Johnson, my uncle through my marriage to Corey’s mother, is a surviving son of Patrick. For all of Cecil’s adult life, he has pursued some honor for his father and this year he finally got the long delayed recognition from the U. S. Government for which his father fought. The government even sent Tennessee Congressman Lincoln Davis, who was instrumental in securing the honor, and an Honor Guard to highlight the laying of a plaque at Pvt. Johnson’s grave in the Harriman Cemetery (Harriman, Tennessee).

It was not an easy path to obtaining the government’s recognition, mostly because of a house fire that destroyed all of the soldier’s military papers. However, through the wonder of the “information age” a grandson found the records online and with the aide of Congressman Davis, the honor came about recently.

Two of the photos used here were scanned from the Roane County News, one showing Cecil walking away carrying the flag and shell casings, used in the 21-gun salute, presented to him after the ceremony, and another fuzzy shot of the grave marker.

I see Cecil and his wife Joyce once or twice a year, but always at my granddaughter Lily’s birthday party. I’ve included this year’s shot from the party, and also a shot of him, Corey, and me when we all wore younger men’s clothes.

Cecil was also a veteran of the Korean War, and suffered many ordeals while in country. Cecil’s brother, Willis, also followed in their father’s footsteps by serving in World War II.

Of course, I never knew Cecil’s father, but I know he would have been proud of his son. Cecil is a quiet man, with much internal strength. He never fails to offer me his hand, a smile, and often a hug when we meet. I’ve always been proud of him too, and looked up to his silent strength. He and Joyce will always be family to me.

This newspaper article came to my attention just in time for me to post it in honor of Patrick Johnson, and for all who served and died to make this country free.

Have a wonderful and reflective Memorial Day!

NOT A DAY GOES BY…

As much as it pains me, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t remember.

On this Memorial Weekend, I remember those that I lost and those that we’ve all lost.

Thank God you were born American.

Thank God for those that made/make it possible.

Oh yeah, thanks for celebrating my birthday too!