When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you
laugh.  You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a,couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.  Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but
then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently,comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. 

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her.  I was happy because you were happy.  Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement.I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too.  Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.  Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

 
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose.  I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams.  Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

 
Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets.  You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter.

 

It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her."  They shrugged and gave you a pained look.  They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers."  You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy!  Please don't let them take my dog!"  And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, aboutlove and responsibility, and about respect for all life.  You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you.  You had a deadline to meet and now I have one,too.

 
After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"

 
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.

 
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you -- that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.  When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

 
I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room.  A blissfully quiet room.  She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief.  The prisoner of love had run out of days.  As is my nature, I was more concerned about her.  The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek.  I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.  She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein.  As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.  With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her.  It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of.  I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

 

 

I thought ths song was appropriate.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Here is the recipe for that Turkey breast!  Soooo worth a try!!

 

Cook Time

50 min

Level

Easy

Yield

10 to 12 servings

 

Ingredients

• 4 whole leeks, white part only, roots trimmed and cut into rings
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• Leaves from 2 fresh thyme sprigs
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 4 cups crumbled cornbread, store-bought
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 2 Boneless Turkey breasts

Directions

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F

Fill a large bowl with water and add the leeks, swish around with your hands to get the sand out from in between the layers. In a large saute pan over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon each of butter and olive oil. Add the leeks, sprinkle with the thyme, salt and pepper and cook for about 10 minutes, turning every now and then, until the leeks are softened but not colored. Remove the leeks from heat to cool.

In a large bowl combine the leeks, cornbread, and chicken stock and season with salt and pepper.

Use a sharp, thin knife to cut down the length of the turkey cutting the breast parallel to the board, almost in half just stopping short of the outside edge. Open out the 2 halves as if you were opening a book. Now you've got a large piece of meat that will cook evenly and is thin enough to roll. Place 2 cups of the stuffing inside each of the breasts and then fold the turkey back over.

Place the remaining stuffing in a small baking dish and cook alongside the turkey.

Tie in 4 places with kitchen twine and season with salt and pepper.

Heat the remaining tablespoon of butter and olive oil in a roasting pan over medium-high heat. Put the turkey in the roasting pan and sear all over. Transfer the pan to the oven and roast for about 25 minutes (internal temperature should reach 160 degrees F on an instant-read thermometer). Take the turkey out of the oven and let it rest for 5 to 10 minutes, then cut crosswise into slices.

We seared the breast in a frying pan and the transfered it to a small roasting pan.  Also, we only used one breast but made the full recipe of stuffing because....... We LOVE stuffing!!!  We added some Golden raisons to the stuffing.  Play around with it!!  Sage??  Bay Leaf??  Rosemary???

*******************************************************************************************

  Music tonight??  Eh!!  My previous life!!  LOL!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Still big, fluffy clouds floating by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Couldn't find a good Thanksgiving song but this one is pretty darned good!  Tim McGraw!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Wonderful song tonight!!  One of my favorites!!  Sawyer Brown!!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alabama: Heck Yes, We Have Electricity!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Alaska: 11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Arizona: But It's A DRY Heat
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Arkansas: Literacy Ain't Everything
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 California: By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic  Than Your Honda
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Colorado: If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Connecticut: Like Massachusetts, Only The Kennedys  Don't Own It --Yet
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Delaware: We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our  Water
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Florida: Ask Us About Our Grandkids
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Georgia: We Put The "Fun" In Fundamentalist  Extremism
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Hawaii: Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru (Death To
 Mainland Scum, But  Leave Your Money)
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Idaho: More Than Just Potatoes ... Well Okay,
 We're Not, But The  Potatoes Sure Are Real Good
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Illinois: Please Don't Pronounce the "S"
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Indiana: 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Iowa: We Do Amazing Things With Corn
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Kansas: First Of The Rectangle States
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Kentucky: Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Louisiana: We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos, But
 That's Our Tourism  Campaign
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Maine: We're Really Cold, But We Have Cheap
 Lobster
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Maryland: If You Can Dream It, We Can Tax It
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Massachusetts: Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's
 (For Most Tax  Brackets)
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Michigan: First Line Of Defense From The Canadians
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Minnesota: 10,000 Lakes ... And 10,000,000,000,000  Mosquitoes
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Mississippi: Come And Feel Better About Your Own  State
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Missouri: Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At  Work
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Montana: Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber,
 Right-wing Crazies, and  Very Little Else
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Nebraska: Ask About Our State Motto Contest
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Nevada: Hookers and Poker!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 New Hampshire: Go Away And Leave Us Alone
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 New Jersey: You Want A ##$%##! Motto? I Got Yer
 ##$%##! Motto Right  Here!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 New Mexico: Lizards Make Excellent Pets
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 New York: You Have The Right To Remain Silent, You
 Have The Right To An  Attorney ...
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 North Carolina: Tobacco Is A Vegetable
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 North Dakota: We Really Are One Of The 50 States!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Ohio: At Least We're Not Michigan
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Oklahoma: Like The Play, Only No Singing
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Oregon: Spotted Owl ... It's What's For Dinner
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Pennsylvania: Cook With Coal
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Rhode Island: We're Not REALLY An Island
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 South Carolina: Remember The Civil War? We Didn't
 Actually Surrender
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 South Dakota: Closer Than North Dakota
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Tennessee: The Educashun State
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Texas: Si' Hablo Ing'les (Yes, I Speak English)
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Utah: Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Vermont: Yep
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Virginia: Who Says Government Stiffs And Slackjaw
 Yokels Don't Mix?
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Washington: Help! We're Overrun By Nerds And  Slackers!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Washington, D.C.: Wanna Be Mayor?
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 West Virginia: One Big Happy Family ... Really!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Wisconsin: Come Cut The Cheese
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Wyoming: Where Men Are Men ... and the sheep are  scared

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Montgomery Gentry  tonight!  (The official R U Serious spaces song!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have a Great weekend all!!! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Short fire update.... Good news for a change!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Residents return to fire zone: 'We have no home'

Residents find that little survived in the path of the fire in neighborhoods in Yorba Linda and Anaheim Hills.

ANAHEIM HILLS Claudia Ybarra knelt on the sooty ground outside her apartment, surrounded by a few plastic bags of clothes, some grimy file folders and a vacuum cleaner. That's what she owns now.

Next door, a neighbor crunched through the charcoal rubble and broken glass of his apartment, shaking his head. Another neighbor walked past and called out, "Well, good luck. I lost everything." The pastor from a nearby church approached and offered her pizza.

In the hillside neighborhoods of Yorba Linda and Anaheim Hills, apartment dwellers and mansion owners came home Sunday to find themselves in the same place. Their homes were gone, and their belongings had been reduced to the few odd items that firefighters had pulled from the smoke and wreckage.

A sooty wedding picture. An autographed baseball. A vacuum cleaner.

""I'm going to miss just sitting on the couch and watching TV," Ybarra, 34, said as she loaded her car with the bags and boxes that firefighters had salvaged from her apartment. "Now you're like…"

She paused. "We have no home. You take things for granted."

Miles away, on a ridge-top neighborhood in Yorba Linda, firefighters were still spraying foam on a smoking garage down the street when Hanna Haroutounian arrived at her house. She put her hand over her eyes and sobbed as she walked up the front walk, stepping over broken roof tiles and under a piece of gutter that had peeled away from the roof.

Her family had lived in the big home on Big Horn Mountain Way for nine years. They had remodeled last year. Now her footsteps crunched as she made her way over blackened timbers into the front entry that had collapsed with part of the roof.

"This is our house," she said, "our sanctuary."

The neighborhood of spacious homes and tidy lawns had been smothered with smoke and lit with fire on Saturday night. At least 16 homes burned there when a wildfire front ripped up a nearby hillside.

On Sunday, residents returned to find firefighters still hosing down hot spots and smoke still curling above some destroyed homes. Those who were fortunate offered beds and support to those who were not.

"It's hard to stay composed when you see a whole family come home and just break down," said Tyler Toomey, 19, who had spent the night keeping watch over his family's home as embers streamed from burning houses nearby.

Down the street, Vas Arora drew his family to him as he stood in the brick archway of his home. It was almost all that was left.

The blackened wreckage behind the door: That was his family's pictures and videos, his wife's wedding dress – "Things that you save for the rest of your life."

"I don't know what to call it when it feels like you can't breathe," said Arova, 67, a retired engineer originally from India. "But that's what it feels like."

"I came to this country with zero dollars in my pocket," he added. "We built this. We'll build over again."

At the Cascade Apartments in Anaheim Hills, Rian Thomas, 27, returned to the second-floor apartment that she and her new husband had moved into a few months ago. It had ceased to exist, and she was thinking about her husband's pocket watch lying somewhere in the rubble.

She had given it to him as a gift, and he had worn it in their wedding. It was engraved with the words from a favorite song: "We will carry on."

"It's gone," she said as she watched a firefighter pick through the wreckage of her apartment. "There's nothing we can do. We've just got to move on. I'm in disbelief.

"I mean, that was my room, right there. He's walking in my room."

A few buildings down, a 33-year-old man named Jason, who said he was uncomfortable giving out his last name, made his way through an apartment littered with singed baseball cards – the remnants of his collection. Wires and soggy scraps of insulation hung from the ceiling.

He found a prized autographed baseball and took it outside. He found his collection of autographed baseball bats – all of them carbonized black.

"It's heartbreaking," he said. "I got nothing left. My wallet, it burned. I got nowhere to go, you know?"

He shook his head. "We got nothing. Absolutely nothing, man. Nada."

"Why?? They saved my damned house!"

Picking Through What's Left 

No Comment... 

Putting Out a Spot Fire 

Resting On A Lawn 

All Alone 

No Parking Zone 

Helping Out 

Setting A Backfire 

Trying To Save The House On The Right 

Same House 

Gone... 

Perfect Drop! 

Confused And Scared Rabbit 

Helicopter Water Drop 

All By Himself 

Nothing Left 

DC-10 Dropping Fire Retardent 

 

Don't Live Here!

Steve Lopez, L A Times Columist

It's 90 degrees in November, the full glory and perennial curse of Southern California on fierce display. Devil winds, hill-hopping infernos, smoked mansions, torched trailers, barren freeways, and brilliant sunsets lingering in low-hanging canopies of burnt dreams.

Are we all crazy? Don't live here, says the wind, the trembling earth, the parched land whose natural inclination is to explode in flame every year about now.

But we do.

Don't build near the kindling, say the voices of common sense.

But we do, for all the wrong reasons and all the known glories. Our winter snowfall is flakes of ash and flame retardant falling on bougainvillea, so it could be worse.

At least the last big quake was a fake -- a Thursday run-through to test our preparedness. Followed immediately, of course, by a genuine, rip-roaring disaster, the kind of astonishing immolation that allows folks across the nation to feel smug despite their black ice and frozen rain.

I could have gone in any direction to find fire victims Sunday. With flames roaring through Montecito, Sylmar, Corona, Anaheim Hills, Yorba Linda, Diamond Bar and elsewhere, thousands of people had fled. Millionaires on the move, trailer park residents out the door in pajamas.

"It has been a harrowing last 2 days," said an e-mail from a Montecito woman named Katherine, sent to loved ones informing them the family had lost six of its seven homes in the Tea fire.

"The fire was so intense that there was no time for anyone to save belongings. My father and stepmother did not even have time to get their wallet -- let alone rescue the pets! It is literally starting over with nothing but the clothes on their backs."

My friend Mark Morocco, an ER doctor, forwarded me a message from one of his colleagues at Olive View Medical Center, which lost all power Saturday night and was partially evacuated.

"I saw . . . nurses rush into the ER with newborns carried in a kangaroo-like pouch for transport out. . . . It took a team of 8 to carry [one] patient on a stretcher down flights of stairs through 4 floors . . . with just our flashlights for visualization. She made it to Huntington hospital safely."

Across Southern California, tens of thousands made it out safely, helicopters buzzed, hundreds of firefighters risked their lives to protect what was left behind, the Red Cross mobilized like the civilian army that it is, gyms full of cots and blankets appearing out of nowhere.

Saturday night I drove to Sylmar, with firestorms at 11 o'clock and 3 o'clock, rolling over the hills like blazing comets. At the Sylmar High evacuation center, I found residents of the Oakridge trailer park, where more than 500 of the 600 homes were lost.

I saw a woman picking through clothes piled on the bleachers of the Sylmar High gymnasium. She was holding them up for size and then folding them neatly into a cardboard box.

Lee Chandler had her work credentials on a string around her neck. She's a Providence Hospital RN and was with her pal and roommate, Ray Bloss, a retired Army medic who now works as a physician's assistant out of West Hills hospital.

Did they live at Oakridge? I asked.

Bloss nodded.

And?

He shook his head. Across the gym was a blackboard with several dozen addresses on it, the only known trailers that survived the fire. The one Bloss and Chandler rented was not on the list. When I asked what they were able to save, Bloss pointed to his shoes.

"That's about it," he said

They had been high school sweethearts 30 years ago in Pennsylvania. But after a misunderstanding over a date that Bloss didn't show up for, they split, moved to different states, got into medicine unbeknownst to each other, married and had children.

Four years ago, divorced and wondering what ever happened to Chandler, Bloss looked her up on Classmates.com and discovered that she too had been lured west by weather and opportunity. He was living in San Diego by then, having vowed never to shovel snow again in his life. Chandler was living in Los Angeles, where she was in the midst of a divorce.

The timing wasn't perfect for a romance, but a close friendship blossomed. Bloss moved to Los Angeles and they hooked up with other friends and rented a house in Granada Hills. But the neighborhood was a little dicey, so in July, they jumped when a friend moved out of state and offered to rent them her trailer in Sylmar's Oakridge Mobile Home Park.

"It was wonderful," Bloss said. The homes were owned by good, friendly people who were longtime residents. They kept their places up and the streets were lined with mature trees.

"You could hear the coyotes at night, and there were hiking trails you could go into for nice strolls. It felt very safe and very peaceful," said Chandler, whose 12-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son swam in the community pool and made new friends.

Bloss was happier than he'd been in years, and loved being so close to mountain, sea and desert, and to so many cultural attractions.

Chandler and Bloss were thinking of buying the trailer together. The roommate arrangement worked for both of them, they said, and Bloss loved being around Chandler's children, who he said made him feel young again. Sure, there was always the threat of fire, but the owner wanted just $150,000 -- California living on the cheap.

Then came Friday night. Bloss woke to the smell of smoke and looked outside. Seeing an orange glow over the hill, he hurried to Chandler's bedroom to roust her and then her son (the daughter was with friends). Chandler grabbed up some photos and a few items of clothing. Bloss got their computers and they sped away just ahead of the flames.

Saturday afternoon in the Sylmar High gym, when Bloss saw that their address was not on the blackboard, he wept.

"Maybe there's a mistake," Chandler said, telling me she couldn't begin to think about where she might live until she sees for herself that the trailer is gone.

When I checked in with her Sunday night, there was cause for hope. She'd driven out to the site earlier in the day. A policeman wouldn't let her in, but he said a home matching the description of hers was still standing.

When or whether they'll ever get back into the park remains uncertain. For the time being, they're staying with friends. It could have been worse, Bloss said, if they owned the home.

Bloss said something in Korean that he'd picked up during his Army days.

"It basically means, 'That's the way things go.' In the Army, there are many times when things go badly and you just say, 'Stuff happens.' You suck it up and you drive on."

Stuff happens, indeed.

The Earth shakes. The fires rage. The population expands.

And the sunsets are brilliant, especially this time of year.

****************************************************************************************

Take care my friends and please don't forget the people here who have lost everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Air Drop! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Water Pressure!!  Had To Let This One Burn....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By then, their groceries are bagged but still sitting on the conveyor thing and and mine are being bagged and added to theirs!!  Today they had to shut down checkout aisle while we went through EVERY item to determine whose was whose!!  "Mine, yours, yours, mine, mine, etc!!!".   But you know??  If I moved to Vietnam, I would have the same problems too..... Except for the oven mitts!!!  Bless their hearts!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I thoroughly enjoyed the Country Music Awards last night.  I thought that Carrie Underwood and Brad Paisley did a really good job as MC's.  I was a little disappointed with some of the choices.  Especially Rascal Flatts receiving only one award!!  Dagnabbit!!  However, I plan on 'trying' to play some of the winners on my space this week. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three wars and a lot of history for this Marine

A retired Marine pilot will share his experiences with Marines at Camp Pendleton on Wednesday.

MISSION VIEJO - Ask C. E. "Snuffy" Brown about his days as a Marine pilot and he'll deliver a story with a punch of humor and wit.

It's part of his shtick as he prepares to deliver a speech to 800 Marines with the 1st Marine Division at Camp Pendleton's annual Marine Corps 233rd Birthday Ball on Wednesday.

After serving 24 years, Brown retired from the Marine Corps as a Major.

"You might say it was thrilling," said Brown. "It was a great life when they weren't shooting at you," he said with a smile.

He piloted planes during WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. In aviation, he says, it breaks down to a simple theorem: Takeoffs are optional, landings are mandatory. And sometimes "you land without your airplane."

At 85, it's the politics and jokes that he recounts as he combs through memories from his Mission Viejo home, scratching at his arms, which he explains is a condition that was caused by Agent Orange, the defoliant used by the military in the jungles of Vietnam.

THE WARS

Brown classifies WWII as the second rebellion. He was stationed at bases in the U.S. and was sent to Luzon, Philippines. He piloted Dive Bombers on missions he called milk runs.

"You went to the target, bombed, and came home. It was another day on the farm," he said. The attitude was much different than fighting in Korea and Vietnam. "We were teenagers. We were indestructible; no one could kill us."

"Everyone was patriotic in WWII. Everyone wanted revenge on the Japanese." He can recall the message was everywhere – propagated by Hollywood. He remembers Clark Gable and Jimmy Stewart going to war.

The Korean War was different – he calls it a police action. Brown, stationed at Buson and Kangnung, piloted a F7F-3N Tigercat armed with rockets, napalm, and canons. He flew 100 night missions – flying 20 feet above the ground aiming for enemy trucks on the three main roads out of China. It was such a small plane that he could reach out and touch the guns with his hands.

In Korea he remembers "death was all around and you had more responsibility because you were up the ladder more."

The Vietnam War he calls Johnson's folly. "All of us were disgusted by the politics; however, in the military you can't say anything against the commander-in-chief."

In Vietnam, he was stationed at Danang for a year, shuttling generals across the Pacific Rim.

THE LOSSES

When it's time to talk about the tough stuff he leans forward from his recliner and sets his chin against the back of his cane.

"You try to remember the funny things and forget the ones when someone doesn't come home," he said.

He doesn't share much. The numbers say it: When he graduated from flight school in 1944 there were 1,000 cadets in his graduating class. By 1954, he was 1 of 4 surviving members.

"It wasn't my time," he said.

RETIREMENT

Brown retired in 1965 after receiving a request. He remembers it vividly. He was sitting at Danang writing orders when the mail clerk had dropped a letter on his desk. His sons had written him a letter asking if they could graduate with their friends at Foothill High School in Tustin. "I said, 'You bet.'" They had been to a total of eleven schools.

When he finally retired, he became a flight school instructor for Douglas Aircraft. He taught airline pilots how to fly the DC-8, DC-9, DC-10 and C-17 which are still flying today.

Brown was married for more than 56 years. He remembers his wife, Elaine, as the hero of the family – raising their two sons.

"She was the supply sergeant, the paymaster sergeant, the sergeant major, the executive officer, and the commanding office of the Brown household," he said. She died four years ago.

In their home he proudly displays two model airplanes he flew in the war and he has pinned his medals onto a formal jacket. He is most proud of the Distinguished Flying Cross medal.

Now, Brown is part of Casta del Sol Marine Club, a volunteer organization, in a Mission Viejo retirement community that holds fundraisers and provides other supportive services to the city's adopted Marines.

He lives by the motto: "Once a Marine, always a Marine."

WOW!!!!  What a guy!!

About Carroll "Snuffy" Brown

Age: 85

Residence: Mission Viejo

Birthplace: Dallas – Fort Worth, Texas

Family: Wife, Elaine, deceased; sons Brian and Scott; 5 grandchildren; and 3 great grandchildren

PS  Has anyone heard about 'Black Thursday' during WWII??  We sent 110 B-17 bombers into Germany for a daylight bombing run without escort (Our fighters could not carry enough fuel to get back).  Of the 110 B-17's, 65 were destroyed and over 600 airmen died.  The Germans had 1,100 fighters in the air.  Soon after, the P-17 Mustang went into service with a far greater range and that soon ended.  (Sorry... Watching History Channel!!)  Yeah, yeah, I know.....  I've been watching the History Channel Veterans Day marathon all day!!

I had a really good song to play today but it's protected, so I'll leave this one up.  It's a good one too.

I hope you all had a good day and if you had the day off, You're welcome!!  LOL!