A Great Salvation for America

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.

~~ Helen Keller ~~

During the terrible winter of 1777-78, while the Continental army lay encamped at Valley Forge, Isaac Potts was passing through the woods near General Washington’s headquarters. Making his way amid the groves and snow covered, wooded paths he suddenly heard the sound of a nearby voice. Startled, Potts cautiously drew closer while the words became clearer. Eventually, he could hear the voice speaking in great earnest.

Soon he could see the man. There, in a dark natural bower of ancient oaks, he saw the commander-in-chief of the American army. It was General George Washington on his knees, in the snow, in prayer.

The best solution?

A young Italian boy grew up on his family’s farm in a small village 25 miles south of Pisa. There they sold farm machinery and made wine.

In 1971, at just 12 years old the boy, born with congenital glaucoma and already suffering limited vision, lost his sight completely following an accident during a soccer game. Hit in the eye while playing goalkeeper he suffered a brain hemorrhage. Doctors resorted to leeches in a last-ditch effort to save his sight, but were unsuccessful and the boy remained blind.

Early in his youth he grew to have a consuming passion for music. His mother said music was the only thing that brought him comfort. He started piano lessons at age 6. Later he learned the flute, saxophone, trumpet, trombone, guitar, and drums. The first record he owned contained the songs of an international opera star, who inspired him to pursue the career of a tenor. By age 7, he was able to recognize the famous voices of the time and tried to emulate the great singers. Music and singing consumed his childhood.

His first concert was performed in a small village not far from where he was born. He won his first singing competition at age 11 with “O sole mio.” He finished secondary school in 1980, and then studied law. To earn money, he performed evenings in piano bars, where he met his first wife Enrica in 1987. He completed law school and spent a year practicing law. Today he is an international superstar. Famous for his amazing God-given talent, his beautiful voice touches millions of lives. He is the father of three children, with homes in Tuscany, Italy and North Miami Beach, Florida. He has sold more than 80-million albums worldwide.

Can We All Get Along?

I have a friend here in Las Vegas. An intelligent, interesting guy, who I love to converse with outside the subject of politics. I have several friends, just like him.

He’s a rabid left winger, suffering from, in my point of view, a serious case of Trump Derangement Syndrome. Our views on politics couldn’t be more opposite, and his frequent Facebook posts are acutely insulting to myself and other like-minded individuals. I’m sure we all have similar experiences, and I make no claim to be innocent of passing along a few occasional insults myself. We are all human.

Yet, I still try to separate politics from my personal relationships. Like others, with differing points of view, I still consider him a friend, and a good man in many ways. I value our friendship.

Me the Patriot and the Realities of War

Patriotism is as much a virtue as justice, and is as necessary for the support of societies as natural affection is for the support of families.

Benjamin Rush, Letter to His Fellow Contrymen: On Patriotism,
October 20, 1773

As a writer I tend to spread my thoughts around. From notes to myself, emails to others, to Facebook posts and my own personal history (to be shared with my family) and to this blog to be shared with the world (at least anyone with the time and interest to read it).

What follows is a compilation of all those things I think about when I think of patriotism and my love for country and the awful necessity of war.

A little of it may have already been shared here, but things of such weighty measure are often worth repeating.

Roosevelt and the New Deal

Teddy Roosevelt, our 26th president once said:

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.

It’s one of my favorite quotes and I’ve referred to it in this blog before.

Teddy’s distant cousin and our 32nd president Franklin Roosevelt was many things to many people. Some, who lived in Roosevelt’s time, and especially those who thought themselves benefactors of his policies, loved and adored him. For many, he was the only president they ever knew. He’d been elected to an unprecedented four terms and served for 12 years before his death. Today is the anniversary of his birth.

Favorite Quotes Friday – 11-30-2018

Our national politics has become unlike anything we’ve seen in our lifetimes. It seems the gap between opposing viewpoints may be at its widest. It’s the one thing we all can agree on.

With the coming of social media — and specifically Facebook — people who were once friends are no longer. How silly, how short-sided. How pathetic!

Thomas Jefferson had it right.

I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.

~~ Thomas Jefferson ~~

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Thoughts on Veterans Day, 2016

A few years ago while working on the campus of the Veteran’s Hospital at American Lake near Tacoma, WA one of the regular staff there, despite my urgings to call me by my first name, refused. It was always “Mr. Gleason.”

When I brought it up at a staff meeting one afternoon, she explained she did it out of a deep-rooted respect for me and my service as a veteran. Her sincere remarks touched me in such a way that it brought tears to my eyes and another in the room later said they could tell I was deeply moved by what had been said. I understood her point of view, but I couldn’t help to think, what’s so special about what I did?

You see, I’ve never looked at my service in the Air Force as a sacrifice, nor was it, by any means, a selfless act. It was among the best years of my life and a tremendous opportunity.

It was a privilege to wear the uniform. I came away from those days and experiences so much more the benefactor. It was not a sacrifice to have served. To the contrary, the sacrifice would have been in not serving.

I was well-paid for those few years with a college education, job and mortgage assistance and even health care. More importantly, I was blessed beyond measure to have been born in this country. It’s the least I could do for it.

If I am a prideful person it’s for two reasons: I’m proud to have served in the military and I am a proud American.

I’m grateful in knowing that I served my country in a righteous cause. As a result I have a profound sense of patriotism and a love for country that touches me to the core. I rarely hear our National Anthem without choking with emotion. My thoughts turn to our flag and all that it represents, and especially to those who gave their lives to preserve freedom around the world providing us, and those less fortunate, with the freedom to choose.

So on this Veterans Day, while I salute all those who took the pledge and wore the uniform I remember those, from a personal perspective, who never returned to their homes and family.

The F-4 pilot who frequented our fire station for the “good food,” lost somewhere in the north. The F-105 pilot whose ejection seat malfuntioned killing him and another Air Force firefighter on my crew. And then there was a high school classmate, Robert Bolt Dickerson III, who joined the Marines and died in the Quang Nam Province of South Vietnam at the age of 18. There were a few others I knew and served with who paid the ultimate price but whose names I don’t now recall. Of course there are tens of thousands more from that era and from various wars and conflicts before and after. It is them I think of today. Any other “sacrifice” pales in comparison.

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War is not the answer?

While driving across the I-90 floating bridge into Seattle a few days ago I couldn’t help but notice a sticker on the rear window of a Prius. You’ve probably seen one yourself. “War is not the answer” it read.

Sorry, I beg to differ!

We live in times when barely a week goes by without reading, seeing or at least hearing of yet another terrorist attack somewhere in the world. The most recent was Thursday’s vicious assault by an Islamist terrorist group on innocent, unarmed university students in Kenya, Africa. The massacre took the lives of 148 students.

Our government and our naïve citizenry, just like the one in the Prius, need to wake up! What’s it going to take? Must we bear a similar attack, or even worse, here in the United States to wake these types up to the stark reality? This is war, like it or not! A war centered on the fanatical religious beliefs of the insane. These are tyrants whose desire is to advance the cause of Islam, no matter the cost or the method.

The length of time, as well as the price we’ll have to pay to defend ourselves against this enemy, will be long and costly. It already has been. It’s a struggle that could be without end and with no victors. Certainly nothing can be accomplished in ridding the world — if even possible — of these sick madmen without our united resolve.

We must be fierce, relentless and bold. We must take actions meant not for the faint-of-heart. And finally, we must take this war to the enemy. Our only defense against these sick, degenerate maniacs is offensive. We simply have to take the battle to them and engage them without restraint. It’s either them or us.

I choose us!

Many good people promote peace by opposing war.  They advocate laws or treaties to abolish war, to require disarmament, or to reduce armed forces. Those methods may reduce the likelihood or the costs of war.  But opposition to war cannot ensure peace, because peace is more than the absence of war. ~~ Dallin H. Oaks

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A Letter to Friends and Citizens

A broadside of Washington’s Farewell Address, from the Rare Book and Special Collections Division of the Library of Congress

It came to be known as George Washington’s Farewell Address.  But it was never given as a speech. Distributed instead as a letter to the people of the United States it’s considered one of the most important documents in American history.

In his letter to “Friends and Citizens,” Washington devoted most of it to offer advice as a “parting friend” on what he believed were the greatest threats to the survival of a fledging nation. Among his subjects were foreign relations and free trade, credit and government borrowing as well as political factions and the party system. The letter is a masterpiece and, although written 218 years ago, his advice is worthy of our attention as it still governs much of our public affairs today. Just as Ronald Reagan did more recently George Washington looked ahead to the country’s future with great optimism.

Not Enough Words

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness …” ~~ Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Three of my sons and I were together a couple of times this past week. It’s been a long time. The oldest lives in São Paulo Brazil, while another is in Los Angeles, and my youngest in Provo, Utah. All are leading busy lives. Going to school, working jobs, building empires.

During my last visit with just my son Matt, before he returned to São Paulo on Saturday, we talked about how people believe we live in the worse of times. Blame it on the media we agreed. With modern technology, news stories, photos and videos from any part of the world comes to us in an instant and on devices we carry in our pockets.

It’s not like it was when I was growing up. In those days, there was but a single daily newscast from the television networks, then just ABC, CBS or NBC. Local broadcast news was just as sparse and none of them more than half-an-hour. Radio was a bit more in-depth, but there were no pictures! That was it for broadcasting, no smartphones, no alerts, no nothing! Add the daily newspapers, where it was believed the most informed would get their fill of current events. The Washington Post, The Evening Star were thick dailies and hugely powerful companies. That was then, this is now.

What we knew about the world was limited and not very timely.  The world seemed a much larger place and we were insulated from its harsh realities, while now we have become desensitized to the same. No one could have imagined what lay ahead. Certainly our grandparents lived in simpler times, but in reality we aren’t living in the worse of them. However, with the dissemination of what goes on around, us so readily available and graphic, we often think otherwise.