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Category: United We Stand

A collection of stories about America, land of the free because of the brave.

Stricken Souls and Battered Flags

I didn’t want to go to work today. Sometimes I have an ominous feeling on the anniversary of September 11th, those are the days I keep my bug out bag within arm’s reach. Sometimes I’m despondent, dwelling on the lives lost starting with this fateful day through the War on Terrorism. And sometimes I’m just mad. Today I was dejected, thinking about how useless it all is. And the hurricane, on top of all that. And yes, it could have been a lot worse, but is that how we’re going to live our lives? It was going to be dreary and wet and cold. So I just wanted to loll in bed and read, and kinda forget the rest of the world existed for one day. In short, I wanted to be selfish. On this day. This day. THIS day. The day when selfishness was banished from society in one of the hardest cities on Earth. When strangers kissed on rooftops, thankful for their lives. When emergency personnel rushed into burning, tumbling buildings just to save one more life, knowing they probably couldn’t save their own. When the President of the United States of America kept reading to kindergarteners after receiving the worst news possible whispered in his ear. So yeah, I could get out of bed. I could do this. And so I drove to work, thinking about people in New York City and Washington 16 years…

I’m Angry, But I’m Not Oppressed

When Donald Trump announced he was running for President, people scoffed. His earliest supporters were shushed, intellectuals informing America that he was a pompous ass and not to debase themselves by publicly approving someone who was so clearly a joke.  As it became clearer he was no joke, and in the very least not one to be counted out, collective America was still stamped down. Don’t waste your vote to someone who doesn’t have a chance, we were told.  But when the polls opened for early voting and they were packed from daylight till dark, and the plastic coat hanger signs popped up in yards,  and the campaign tour wore on, it became obvious he did have a chance. And blue collar America had a voice. And they were screaming.  America turned out day after day to stand in line to cast their ballot for their best chance. Their only chance. And maybe their last chance.  And by God, he won. He actually won. And we couldn’t believe our luck. So we rejoiced. And again, we were silenced. We were told it was over, to stop celebrating, whatever. In four years, they’d show us. We think it’s gonna be so great, but it’s gonna be a train wreck.  And on Inauguration Day, Trump made yet another rousing speech, and it wasn’t a sugar coated backpedaling of all his promises…

November 9th 2016

This deplorable, gun-toting, educated, working white Southern republican female is having chicken-n-dumplins and sweet tea tonight with her middle-class, patriotic, white Southern Christian husband. There should be something for everyone there. If you’re mad about the outcome of the election, you’re probably not still reading this. But I will say this: those of us who grew up in church are accustomed to hearing the church isn’t a place you go. Church is withIN us. Same with the government. Government starts at home. Get educated. Get involved. Per Ghandi, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Or if you want to get out, by all means, don’t let me stand in your way…

America Makes a Comeback

This deplorable, gun-toting, educated, working white Southern republican female is having chicken-n-dumplins and sweet tea tonight with her middle-class, patriotic, white Southern Christian husband. There should be something for everyone there. If you’re mad about the outcome of the election, you’re probably not still reading this. But I will say this: those of us who grew up in church are accustomed to hearing the church isn’t a place you go. Church is withIN us. Same with the government. Government starts at home. Get educated. Get involved. Per Ghandi, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Or if you want to get out, by all means, don’t let me stand in your way. Oh, and…

America, America

Almost exactly eight years ago, I was leaning against a shed at Sand Creek Farms in Shelbyville at sunset during the Walking Horse Celebration when my momma called. She told me my grandmother was dying of pancreatic cancer. I remember where I was because it was some of the worst news I ever received & I was helpless to it.   Pearl Harbor attack. JFK assassination. Challenger explosion. September 11, 2001. These are events in America’s history that are so firmly ingrained & so important in our memories we know exactly what we were doing & where we were. We share these memories; we are not alone in our anger & grief. I wasn’t alive for Pearl Harbor or the assasination, so they are just images & bits of what I absorbed in history classes over the years. The photos are grainy & details are fuzzy in my mind, as they were just dates to memorize for the impending exam. I was five for the Challenger tragedy. I was in the floor playing & the tv was on. I remember sharp intakes of breath & cries of “What happened???” around me. I was wearing my magenta colored plastic charm necklace. September 11th was another scenerio entirely. I was grown, working, a voting American citizen. Details are crystal clear. It was a normal morning at the Co-op…until it wasn’t. A man came in on his regular errand & told us a…

Dividing Time

December 7th, 2015 A much different day than December 7th, 1941.  As I type this, I hear the distinct hum of an airplane flying over my house. That’s a bit unnerving. I’ll admit, growing up, Pearl Harbor Day was just another bit of history, another date I was supposed to remember & give observance to. Like Columbus Day, or Washington’s birthday. But, September 11th, 2001 changed the way I feel about it.  I was 22 years old & hadn’t seen much of life. I certainly hadn’t known fear of flying or traveling in general. I hadn’t been scared to drive home, afraid of what I might see, or what I could run into. I hadn’t ever wanted to stay at work, to simply be in the company of other familiar people before. I hadn’t ever wanted to watch the news to learn of something beyond my line of vision, to prepare myself for the evil that was no longer lurking, but actively seeking to destroy life as we knew it.  1941 was 38 years before I was born. So it’s sometimes hard to understand why we should hold this day in reverence. But then I think of September 11th & remember. And I think to all the people I know, that were alive on that day we were attacked, but how few memories they retain. My primary emotion when…

Reflecting on Pearl Harbor Day

December 7th, 2015 A much different day than December 7th, 1941. As I type this, I hear the distinct hum of an airplane flying over my house. That’s a bit unnerving. I’ll admit, growing up, Pearl Harbor Day was just another bit of history, another date I was supposed to remember & give observance to. Like Columbus Day, or Washington’s birthday. But, September 11th, 2001 changed the way I feel about it. I was 22 years old & hadn’t seen much of life. I certainly hadn’t known fear of flying or traveling in general. I hadn’t been scared to drive home, afraid of what I might see, or what I could run into. I hadn’t ever wanted to stay at work, to simply be in the company of other familiar people before. I hadn’t ever wanted to watch the news to learn of something beyond my line of vision, to prepare myself for the evil that was no longer lurking, but actively seeking to destroy life as we knew it. 1941 was 38 years before I was born. So it’s sometimes hard to understand why we should hold this day in reverence. But then I think of September 11th & remember. And I think to all the people I know, that were alive on that day we were attacked, but how few memories they retain. My primary emotion when thinking back on…

Tired of Tolerance

I’ve started this status four times. I know y’all get tired of hearing me expound on the same subjects but….how do I put this politically correctly? Oh, I know. I don’t care. That’s part of the reason the United States is in the shape we’re in, because everybody is so afraid of hurting someone’s feelings. While it would be great if we could be all “Make love, not war” but other countries don’t reciprocate. We used to be the nation that everyone feared, that everyone respected. We had all the power. But then we were infiltrated & fourteen years after the fact, people have forgotten. They will say they haven’t forgotten. But they have or they wouldn’t be tolerant. We are tolerant of a President who lies. We are tolerant of a President who turns terrorists loose after being held as prisoners. After our good soldiers risked life & limb to capture them from their holes in the earth where they dwelled. We are tolerant of a President who is Muslim. We are tolerant of a President who makes excuses for his lies & his actions. Now we have another one running that is all that & more. I wouldn’t let her scrub my floor. We have a person running who cannot guard his own microphone from some thug who had a different agenda. How does…

Fighting Fire

There’s a lot I could say about today. Heck, there’s a lot I can say about any given day. But I know what it was like to be scared to drive home on this day 13 years ago. I know how utterly terrifying it was to put your life in someone else’s hands & fly for the next year or two. I know what it feels like to worry about being a target, due to being in such close proximity to Oak Ridge. Yes, I profile. Yes, I’m prejudiced against Islamic people. (Actually, I’m not prejudiced. I despise almost everybody equally.) And it makes me angry that people disagree with our presence overseas, argue that we didn’t need a war. “Fight fire with fire” isn’t just an expression. You actually do fight fire with fire sometimes, especially in the case of brush fires. See, fire is reckless. It’s dangerous. It has nothing to lose, it takes everything in its path with it. So you start another fire, and control it to make it collide with the uncontrolled burn. They meet, and there’s nothing left for it to take. So it burns itself out. My metaphor here is the kamikaze pilots. They know nothing but fighting, death, & destruction. So that’s how you make them understand. You can’t reason with evil. Imagine getting up to go to…