HELD CAPTIVE BY UNITED AIRLINES IN CHICAGO

Judy, Katie Bug (our granddaughter), and I went to New York this past week with Terri, Steve, and Juliana (their granddaughter).

Our flight to New York began on Flight 5881 at 10:29 AM (Eastern) Sunday (6/8/08) out of Knoxville, Tennessee to Chicago and was on time and smooth as glass to O’Hare. United Airlines boarded Flight 646 for New York at 1:15 PM (Central). The pilot announced a 30 minute hold at the terminal, which went by fairly quickly. We then got the go ahead and taxied into position behind about 25 to 30 other aircraft full of eager passengers.

The pilot soon came on and announced he was shutting down the right engine to conserve fuel, because the storm that had recently passed through Chicago was now between us and New York. Newark (New Jersey) had notified Chicago that it was not accepting aircraft for one hour.

The pilot told us that he was requesting a flight plan around the storm, so we sat and waited…hoping he was successful.

He then came back and said that he could not accept a “fly around” because there was not enough fuel on board, and that he would have to go to the terminal to fill up.

At the terminal, the pilot promised it only took about 45 minutes to take on the fuel (including the time it took for the tanker to arrive).

The tanker arrived and we finally backed out of the gate. I was watching one of the ground support guys as he flagged us safely backward. He looked down at his watch and then looked up and crossed the flashlights stopping the plane and then went forward to put the plane back at the gate.

Suddenly the engines stopped again and the pilot announced that the “flight crew” was now “illegal” and would have to be replaced – shift change!

While we waited for this, they announced that we could leave the plane and go back into the terminal until the new crew arrived. There was also a warning that the plane would leave (with or without us) when the crew arrived, so we needed to stay close to the terminal gate.

We quickly made it off the plane to find something quick for lunch, a meal that was now at least 3 hours overdue! We feed the young ones and ourselves and headed promptly back to the gate and onto the plane. We were greeted by a new team of attendants, all fresh and ready to tackle a grumpy bunch of short-tempered travelers.

We sat on the plane with a promise from the pilot that he would not back out of the terminal until he had his flight plan and a take off time verified by Newark.

We did back out eventually, but after we did, we keep getting notices of 30 and 45 minutes holds while on the tarmac.

Long story short, we spent in excess of 5 hours in delays in Chicago. When we arrived at Newark, it had taken us a total of 12 hours to fly from Knoxville to New York. Google says it is 751 miles from my house to 226 W. 52^nd Street in New York City (Hotel Novotel Times Square), about 12 hours and 9 minutes!

I heard this made the national news this week, so you may have heard something about irate travelers in Chicago.

One side note, there were three passengers with small dogs on the plane, which was my first encounter with pets within the aircraft cabin. I felt sorry for them stuck there under the seats, but soon their owners pulled them out and onto their laps. I once dozed off and woke suddenly when something bumped me. When I looked up I was face-to-face with a big rat…I mean a Chihuahua!

On the way back to use one of the lavatories, I noticed the other two dogs standing on “pee pads” back in the galley! As I stepped across I pointed down at one of the dogs and said, “Better hurry, or I’ll use that thing!”

[I need to thank Jeff (FHB) for helping to keep me sane through this ordeal. He and I talked or sent text messages frequently. He was dealing with his own layover problems in Atlanta about the same time I was parked at O’Hare! Thanks brother!]

Sometime around midnight, after riding the bumpy New Jersey Turnpike we made the hotel, which was within eye shot of Times Square, which seems much larger on TV!

After showers around, we fell into bed with a cellphone set to awaken us at 5:30! We hit the ground running bright and early Monday morning and did not slow down until late Wednesday night.

More on that later.

OUT OF POCKET

It probably isn’t necessary to post this, since no one seems to be blogging these days, but I will be gone for a few days.

See ya!

ZZ TOP PLAYS THE TENNESSEE THEATER

“We’ve been here before,” Billy Gibbons said, “…the same three guys, playin’ the same three cords!”

ZZ Top has played Knoxville, Tennessee several times in the past, but back then it was to larger crowds at the coliseum. Tuesday night they played to a packed house of around 1600 at the grand Tennessee Theater. Ron, Gary, and I were three of the best entertained ol’ rockers there!

Prior to the concert, which started at 8 PM, we dined at the Downtown Grill and Brewery, which is a tradition with most concert goers. Ron always goes for the White Mule and I go for the Downtown Alt pale ale! Gary tries them, but loves his Miller Lite more.

Ron went for the big burger and fries, Gary and, for the first time, I tried the “Burro,” a gigantic burrito with beans and rice that repeated on me all night long! I didn’t mind though, it just served to remind me of the delicious meal I had!

After a little walk around Market Square, and another beer at the Preservation Pub we made it to the Tennessee Theater and ordered another round before taking our seats in the balcony.

The seats offered me the advantage of being able to steady my pocket Nikon on the railing, and use my zoom. I think they turned out pretty well for a little camera that easily hides in any pocket! Note the one with the shadow of Billy Gibbons on the wall. Ron pointed this out to me and I just had to get it. It you notice, there is a larger shadow that appears to be a cowboy wearing a hit! I don’t think this was intentional, just a coincidence of the lighting setup.

“Blackberry Smoke,” a very good “southern rock” band kicked things off with about 45 minutes to an hour of hard hitting rock, sounding very much like early Lynyrd Skynyrd. I really enjoyed them and will be downloading some of their songs soon!

Billy recalled one of his first trips to Knoxville, explaining that he experienced an earthquake here worst than any he had in California. “I had a room up in the Hyatt House (called the Marriott today), but I slept in the bus that night! Then the next morning I learned that a garbage truck had backed into the building!”

“What do ya wa’na hear?” he asked, as the crowd began shouting out their favorites. “It don’t matter ‘cause yer go’na hear’em all tonight!” And we did!

There were two songs where the primary mics were over driven, but the rest of the song lyrics were easily discernable. The music, well, it was ZZ Top and it rocked us for about two hours.

The best part was that I was home in bed by 11:30, a little buzzy from the pale ales and the amplifiers! Life is grand.

Make these larger by clicking on them, and check out more photos on my Flickr page.

"RAISING THE CURTAIN" - PRINCESS THEATER

Some of you may remember my post “The Princess Theater” back in July of 2007. I said then that there was an effort underway to restore the theater. Well, I’m happy to report that is happening now and being pushed forward by two neighborhood friends Gary Baker and Bennie Lowery. You’ll remember Bennie, or Jaybee, from “It Was the Summer of ‘62”. Gary and Bennie (of Dallas, TX) have stayed in contact all these years and are business partners. They are now involved in “Share the Vision” a group dedicated in bring about the restoration of the Princess Theater and revitalize downtown Harriman, Tennessee.

“Share the Vision,” is a program determined to restore Harriman’s Princess Theater, and is sponsored by the Roane Alliance and spear headed by Gary Baker and Muse Watson of Harriman, Tennessee. An awareness kick off was held Friday evening (5/30) in the O’Brien Theater on the main campus of Roane State Community College. Muse Watson and Bill Landry hosted the event, that featured Marshal Andy, Luke Brandon, the Pick’N’Grin Bluegrass Band featuring Larry Mathis and Bud Brewster and other area talent.

Bennie sent me an email last night telling me about the awareness party held Saturday evening at Doctor Terry Bingham’s home. Bennie was in town to help Gary with the “Raise the Curtain” program. He wrote:

“It started at Roane State Friday night and ended at Dr. Bingham's house last night. Gary (Baker) and Terry (Bingham) threw a great party to kick it off with Clint Black as entertainment. So if you hear rumors it was true he (Black) was in Harriman. In attendance were the likes of Bill Landry, Muse Watson, Archie Bell, Coach Pearl, Dr. Goff and a whole host of City, County and State officials.

It was done Right and now the awareness is in the right places. I hope money can follow the will to get a viable venue for talent in Roane County.”

The Princess Theater first opened in 1926, but the 900 seat Princess was damaged by fire six years later. In 1939, the theater was completely destroyed by a blaze, but was rebuilt in within 10 months with an “Art Deco” design with 854 seats, courtesy of Paramount Studios.

During World War II, while the secret city Oak Ridge was under construction a few miles away, there were three showings a day, each one sold out.

The theater screened its last movie in 1999, when Cecil Johnson, long time operator and lessee of the building, retired. It officially closed in 2001.

Local officials are now joining hands with Hollywood bad guy Muse Watson to restore and revitalize the theater. Their plans include a $1.9 million renovation with a vision of creating a new public access TV station for Harriman, run by Roane State Community College.

Other hopes are that the Tennessee Technology Center will teach theater lighting and stage design, while Roane County public schools may use the building for programs, plays and events.

“It would be an ideal location for weddings, concerts, dance recitals and screenings of classical movies,” Baker has stated. “It's hoped a vibrant Princess Theater will lure restaurants, specialty shops and other new businesses downtown.”

CAN YOU SAY CATAWBA?

An American Indian tribe that lived in the South Carolina area, known as the Catawba (keto’be), gave this tree the name Catalpa (pronounced ketal'pe). It is said that the Indians smoked the bean pods for a hallucinogenic effect, so the tree became known as the "Indian Cigar Tree", the Indian bean, and smoking bean, some folks even refer to it as the “fish bait tree!”

Here in my neck of the woods this beautiful flowering tree is called the “CATAWBA!” We say “Ka Ta Ba” like it ought to be!

Paul “Squeaky” Goddard, his grandpa, and I used to go fishing at the Kingston Steam Plant using the Catalpa/Catawba worms that hatch from eggs left by the catalpa sphinx moth. The moth larva devours the leaves of the tree (the Catalpa is preferred) and often completely strips it of leaves which readily grow back. The tough skinned caterpillar is hard to push a hook through, and you have to push it through at least twice to get it to stay on the hook long enough to catch a crappie! If you leave too much hanging down, the fish will steal the worm bit by bit until your hook is bare!

Squeaky even kept some frozen in his freezer, by placing them in cornmeal or sawdust, packing them in a glass jar, and freezing them immediately. He often used them throughout the winter months.

In the original 35mm slide of Mr. Goddard, you could read the name of the reel clearly on the side. This scanned copy is a touch blurry, but you might be able to guess the manufacturer* anyway. Always thought I should have sent that slide to them!

The tree’s lovely flower can be seen in late May and early June. After that, the flowers are replaced by a long bean pod (cigar shaped pod in a cluster). This tree is in Harriman, Tennessee on Hwy. 29, in front of Bowers Elementary School and across from South Harriman Baptist Church.

The wood of the Catawba was widely used in the South for fence posts.

*Johnson Century Model 100B

THE KNIGHTS AND DRAGONS CELEBRATE MEMORIAL DAY

We still believe in segregation, as seen in these two photos: The Dragons on one end of the porch and The Knights on the other end.

On the Dragon end there is loud, almost irritating (almost because we’re accustom to it) cackling. Most would call this “hen cackling”, but we Knights call it “Dragon Cackling!” You can get just a taste of it in the attached YouTube posted video clip by the same name!

From left to right are Neena, Charlotte, Judy, Terri, and Linda trying to out talk and laugh each other. Since the dialect is in East Tennessean, I’ll try to interpret for you.

Neena is recalling a man named “Shorty” from their old neighborhood, so called because his legs were short. Judy says, “All three of’em was short!” Neena says, “He finally married a woman named Petunia.” To which Linda corrects, “Zinnia!”

None of it meant anything to us either, but to them the people in the stories and their own comments and inflections are just too funny! I have to admit that it makes us happy to see them this way. They are very close and love each other very much, although from the cuts and sarcastic remarks an outsider could never tell!

Us Knights just rolled our eyes, take another drag off our cigars, and chase it with another shot of tequila! Tequila makes everything seem and sound so much better!

The fun continues down the highway home, as you can see from this photo of Steve taking our photo as we are coming to a stop at a country intersection! He is shooting over the top of his convertible Mustang, while I’m standing up through the sunroof!

It’s always a good time when the Knights and Dragons play!

MY SATURDAY DATE

Katie Bug drove me to Wild Wings Saturday for a little birthday celebration for the old man!

I have to admit, I was a little nervous as I got into her Granny’s car with her at the wheel, but by the time we hit Hwy. 61 and headed northeast toward Knoxville, I was already at ease.

Katie is an “excellent driver, definitely an excellent driver”, to quote the Rainman!

I noticed, however, that she was breaking and slowing down too much when coming to curves. In East Tennessee, you have to learn to drive curvy roads or spend too much time going anywhere. I decided to hold my lesson for the return trip.

At Wild Wings we ordered a luscious 25-piece platter, with 5 varieties, and chowed down. She loves her wings and ate until she was about to pop. She even kept her cellphone off!

The evening before Katie had given me a great lesson on texting with my new cellphone. If you remember, my old one was ruined by falling into the creek!

I have watched her stand around flying through the keys and could not understand how anyone could type words that fast on a tiny little keypad. I did not know you could set you phone to word recognition and it practically knows what you are typing before you complete a full word.

Look at her standing there, all pretty and everything, kind’a like me, programming my phone while sending a text message to some “horny” little boy on hers! I don’t worry about all those boys that text her…she’s a “player” and has them all eating out of her hand, and choosing not to settle for a single steady! She likes them all, but luckily she gets so tired and bored of them quickly and moves on. If you ask her what happened to one of them she answers, “He got on my nerves!”

Anyway, back to the driving and wing story!

We talked a lot about boys, life, and other things on her mind, and then left.

I had two Yuengling drafts and it was good to have her as my DD!

On the way back home we took Hwy. 95 to Hwy. 327 and on to Hwy. 61. The first two are very curvy state roads that have always been a favorite drive of mine. Back when I had my Mustangs I drove these roads never touching my breaks, using the four of five speed transmissions to gear down going into the curves, and then accelerating down the straights. So much fun, especially when I could feel a slight drift in the rear and then the torque straightening it out and pushing me on down the road!

“Left the throttle right here, let it roll into the curve low and slow, now ‘gap it’ (a term we used in the ‘60s when engine timing depended on a point gap) here and come out of the curve fast and high!”

After two curves she got the essence of what I was trying to explain and from then on she was actually having fun and looking forward to the next curve. With a little practice, she will be as good as the ol’ man!

It made me miss not having a straight shift. I would still love to go through the gears on some back road, and feel the power under me! Ah, those were the days!

Thanks Katie Bug for the “most excellent” birthday!

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!

ON THE TRAIL AGAIN

Ron and I hiked the east end of the North Boundary Trail (approx. 3.2 mile round trip), a Greenway in the Oak Ridge, Tennessee area, near where K-25 Plant sits. The gravel road runs about 7 miles from the west end of the City of Oak Ridge, just below the old war era guard station, to just below the old Wheat Community.

This area was settled in the 1700s, and in 1846 was first called the Bald Hill Community. However, it was changed to Wheat in 1880, after the community’s first postmaster Frank Wheat. Early residents included family names such as Henry, Inman, and Welcher.

In about 1840, a Gallaher purchased the area and it was later called the Gallaher-Stone Plantation.

These families buried their families and their slaves (unmarked) in family plots all over the area that became the Reservation known as Oak Ridge. The homes and farms in this area ceased exist in 1942 when the U. S. Government began their “secret” project to build the first atomic bomb that eventually ended World War II.

Today, all these graveyards are numbered and documented using GPS positioning, and open to only the families that once lived in the area. However, if you walk this particular Greenway, you can visit at least 3 of them.

Today we visited 62 (Slivey family) and 63 (Rather family) sites.

Along the trek we discovered a new wildflower with lovely “violet like” blooms called Moth Mullein - the flowers grow from and around a single stalk. If you look closely, you can see why it’s call “moth”…the bloom has the appearance of a moth.

We also stopped and listened to the mating chatter of the 17 YEAR CICADAS that are out in force this year!

This is a very peaceful walk…and sometimes, when the weather and lighting is just right, it can be down right spooky!

Naturally, Ron and I ended up at the Smoky Mountain Brewery for burgers and pale ale later!

MY “LAUGH & TIMES” FLASHED BEFORE MY EYES

“There’s the neatest little waterfall over here Mushy (not his real name),” Judy said.

“Look at those “Bluets” down on the side of that rock,” Ron added.

Earlier, Judy had been miffed at me for not coming across to the big rock she and Neena were exploring. I have a camera and anything I can’t see from there I blow up with the zoom, so I saw no need to jump the gap.

However, after their insistence, I hopped over onto the first of a series of boulders that formed the right side of the waterfall we had been admiring along the Middle Prong Trail near Cades Cove in the Smokies. Between two smaller rocks, was a tiny little waterfall with a lot of velocity that caused the stream of water leaking through to explode in a spray on a rock about 2 feet below.

I carefully made the “Bluet” shot and then made my way over to the mossy dark spot that can be seen the photo of Neena and Judy, just to Neena’s left. I noted and was careful of an area was a small depression, where water stood and feed the surrounding moss. I took the little fall shot and looped the strap on my camera around my right wrest for the trip back across to the boulder where Neena, Judy, and Ron stood watching.

Under her breath Judy said to the others, “I’d have to laugh if he fell in,” which elicited giggles from her sister!

As I crossed my left foot behind my planted right foot, my right foot shot forward about 3 inches causing me to arch backward and away from the top of the rock.

Now at this moment, I began trying to remember what the area directly below me looked like, and all I could picture in my mind was sharp rocks. I mentally prepared myself for the coming pain of smashing 8 feet below me into jagged rocks sticking up out of the rushing cold water below the fall.

As I hit the water, across the top part of my back first, I felt no immediate pain. I then noticed that I was being swept down stream through the natural flume created by the surrounding rocks. I started to panic at being swept far down stream and dashed against boulders along the way, but as I planted my feet on the bottom, and stopped my tumbling, I realized that I could steady myself and support myself against the large boulder on which my now screaming family stood.

As quickly has the second fear subsided, I began to think about hypothermia! I frantically began to look for a way up and out of the freezing water. There was no way I could get up to my left, nor could Ron reach my hand from above.

Finally, I moved to my right, almost stumbled over a larger rock hidden under the water, and made it to a small eddy where dead branches had collected. Luckily, there was a small tree about 2 inches in diameter that was still rooted to the bank that projected out over the debris. Using this aid, I made it up out of the water, but still could not make the huge step up to the top.

About that time Mike Hagney (send an email Mike if this isn’t correct) (Mike is at left with the great Van Morrison t-shirt) from Florida just happened by with his family. He and Ron grabbed an arm and I was finally firmly planted on higher ground. I stood there draining and suddenly remembering my camera!

“No, it’s okay,” Ron told me as he handed it to me. It was actually still on and had suffered no harm as I apparently flung it off my wrist and onto the top of the rock from which I fell!

I did lose my cap and sunglasses, and everything in my pockets: my cellphone, wallet, keys, and camera case were drenched.

I removed my hiking boots, drained them, and rung out my socks, but the walk back was a little sloshy!

At the car, where the butterflies constantly buzzed by after feeding on a nearby “horse muffin”, I removed my wet shirt and zipped off the legs of my hiking pants. Ron gave me a dry pair of socks and a large towel to sit on.

We made a pit-stop at the Townsend Visitor’s Center, where I decided I would go “commando” the rest of the way! “I was out there, Jerry!” (For you Seinfeld fans!)

I finally relaxed and talked over the event with my companions at Uno’s in Maryville, where we had Uno’s Amber Ale and a very good pizza!

It was not until after I looked closely at the attached photos that I realized just how seriously I could have been hurt or killed! There are rocks peeping up above the water just to the left of and directly under where I fell! However, I was only very sore in my left arm and leg, and moved very slowly that night and this morning. There were no bruises (found two since this was written), scraps, or contusions like I expected.

Each night, especially before such outing, I pray that the good Lord will watch over us. Some may say it’s just luck, but to me it was an answered prayer.

So, thank you Lord, and you too Ron and Mike! I also appreciate the concern shown by Neena and Judy.