A lot of my blogs concern the area where I grew up. I often compare my home town to the mythical Mayberry. In many ways there is a parallel. A lovely small town with an excellent education system and plenty of things for kids to do. Growing up there I was aware of how beautiful others thought the area was. I saw the "summer people" flock out there. And these " summer people " came in great numbers. " Termites " my Dad would call them because they seem to come out of the woodwork ! They were wealthy folks,some famous and some not.
There was a big difference in at least one area though, affordable housing. Even back then the cost of land and a house was steadily climbing at a ridiculous rate. I heard tales of how much so and so paid for his land and how much he sold it for. Back then there was very little concern about that. The general attitude was, you are on your own.
One other area a bit lacking was the job market. Farming and fishing,the main occupations,were fading out. Neither could compete in a viable fashion against the big boys of the industry. The days of one man,or even a small group of men,working the bay for a living were coming to an end. The local farmers could not compete in a larger market. I was living in the end of an era.
My father had a plan for me. No different than any other father he wanted the best for me. He wanted me to succeed. His mantra was always the same. After high school you are either going to college or joining the military ! Period , end of discussion. You are not just hanging around here,staying in my house and eating my food. Sounds cruel doesn't it ? It wasn't intended that way. That was Dads way of offering motivation ! It is similar to way he taught you to swim, throw you overboard ! Literally, he threw you overboard. He then offered encouragement and advice from the boat on the best way to stay afloat.
College really wasn't an option. My grades would have gotten me into a college I'm sure of that. Not Harvard or Yale but I'm sure there is one out there that would have accepted me or at the very least my money.Problem there was,no money. I could have gotten a job but none that would have paid enough for me to live on my own. Rent was too high even back then. So off to the Navy I went.
And that is how I wound up in the Navy. It would make a better story if I told you about swelling pride and patriotism but that wasn't the case. True, we were embroiled in Vietnam at the time, and I was willing to go fight if my country asked me. The key word there being "asked." The idea made me a little nervous, another reason for the Navy choice. Hard for anyone to sneak up on you in the night when you are on a ship ! Simple logic.
I have spent many hours thinking about what if. What if I had stayed home ? I've even been accused of wanting to go back and live there. I'll admit there is some truth in that. I left Mayberry. Truth is, Mayberry never really existed. In my memories it certainly does. Now this town and indeed the entire area is a playground for the rich. I expect the locals from places like Aspen and Marthas' Vineyard feel the same way.
Things that could have been. Others exist only in memory. I do take consolation in the fact that I grew up in such a wonderful place. I was indeed fortunate to have lived there in that era and to have known those folks.
Because in the end it is the people that make the place special. Generations lived there and a closeness was developed. A huge family. Then the " summer people " stayed longer and longer. Soon the gene pool became polluted ! All things change. It was a damn good run,however.
There was a big difference in at least one area though, affordable housing. Even back then the cost of land and a house was steadily climbing at a ridiculous rate. I heard tales of how much so and so paid for his land and how much he sold it for. Back then there was very little concern about that. The general attitude was, you are on your own.
One other area a bit lacking was the job market. Farming and fishing,the main occupations,were fading out. Neither could compete in a viable fashion against the big boys of the industry. The days of one man,or even a small group of men,working the bay for a living were coming to an end. The local farmers could not compete in a larger market. I was living in the end of an era.
My father had a plan for me. No different than any other father he wanted the best for me. He wanted me to succeed. His mantra was always the same. After high school you are either going to college or joining the military ! Period , end of discussion. You are not just hanging around here,staying in my house and eating my food. Sounds cruel doesn't it ? It wasn't intended that way. That was Dads way of offering motivation ! It is similar to way he taught you to swim, throw you overboard ! Literally, he threw you overboard. He then offered encouragement and advice from the boat on the best way to stay afloat.
College really wasn't an option. My grades would have gotten me into a college I'm sure of that. Not Harvard or Yale but I'm sure there is one out there that would have accepted me or at the very least my money.Problem there was,no money. I could have gotten a job but none that would have paid enough for me to live on my own. Rent was too high even back then. So off to the Navy I went.
And that is how I wound up in the Navy. It would make a better story if I told you about swelling pride and patriotism but that wasn't the case. True, we were embroiled in Vietnam at the time, and I was willing to go fight if my country asked me. The key word there being "asked." The idea made me a little nervous, another reason for the Navy choice. Hard for anyone to sneak up on you in the night when you are on a ship ! Simple logic.
I have spent many hours thinking about what if. What if I had stayed home ? I've even been accused of wanting to go back and live there. I'll admit there is some truth in that. I left Mayberry. Truth is, Mayberry never really existed. In my memories it certainly does. Now this town and indeed the entire area is a playground for the rich. I expect the locals from places like Aspen and Marthas' Vineyard feel the same way.
Things that could have been. Others exist only in memory. I do take consolation in the fact that I grew up in such a wonderful place. I was indeed fortunate to have lived there in that era and to have known those folks.
Because in the end it is the people that make the place special. Generations lived there and a closeness was developed. A huge family. Then the " summer people " stayed longer and longer. Soon the gene pool became polluted ! All things change. It was a damn good run,however.
As usual you have a gift for writing. I will have to send two comments to get in all I have to say.
ReplyDeleteI agree with much of what you say. It is a little much for the Taliban to complain. So many things in the world that are over the top now. I think you are right about activities in war. These guys might just have gotten a little unhinged under the circumstances they find themselves. No one has explained the background situation that got them to this point.
I think you are on to something about them trying to retain their sanity. Certainly seems like a improper thing to do but they are in a theater of the absurd; a war zone. We were once young, and macho, too. And we all have probably done a few dishonorable things to fit in, as well.
I understand your feelings. The other day on a quiz show the answer to a question was "April is the cruelest month" ... a line from a poem. For me, indeed, it is. I was a witness to Oklahoma City in 1995. I can never hear those words without recalling what I witnessed. McVeigh killed seven from our office among the 168 who died.
Your feelings are your own; honestly arrived at with your experiences and knowledge. My feelings after OKC might have been a bit stronger. Like these Marines that day was theater of the absurd. At the time I had the delusion that it was gas explosion. I had actually triggered an evacuation a year earlier because of such. Things are different in such situations; sights, sounds and perceptions are different from the armchair view. My feeling at the time was VENGEANCE, REVENGE and JUSTICE. I wanted McVeigh DEAD, DEAD, DEAD ....168 times. Sometimes I still do.
In my imagination I wanted for him to pick up every fractured part of that building if it took forever; and then with the pile above his head; drop it on him; kill him 168 times. My country was attacked. I assured the confused governor of Oklahoma one day that it was an American flag that day all day above the building and Americans not just Oklahomans who died; and Americans who came to the rescue. I was an eye witness; it is my testimony.
April is indeed the cruelest month. My country was attacked. My friends killed. A man hiding behind his political agenda killed them. He killed men, women and children. And he sowed what he reaped ..... but was justice done ???? Justice can never be done from my viewpoint. My feelings over the years have evolved. There is still part of me would have vengeance with my peculiar punishment. One execution will not balance the scales. But that is just a feeling. When humans are put in a position of requiring the need of justice strange things seem to happen. Feelings seem to be at the heart of a lot of what we call justice. Its what we individually feel we want for ourselves for balance; it's for a judge somewhere to decide how to balance.
I've had time to reflect on justice. A chance encounter with a man whose daughter I met the day before the bombing gave me something to think about. His daughter died that next day and he was preaching forgiveness. He had gone to meet McVeigh's family !!! He had an unusual response for those of us directly affected by that day. I can't remember all of what he had to say but it did turn me around about my feelings. I know now that my justice isn't necessarily Justice. And the justice that may legally be appropriate to the situation, may not either. Its a deeper subject than the conclusions my feelings might lead me to at the time of the situation. I have come to believe that maybe a more appropriate sentence would have been life in prison (something McVeigh didn't want more than his execution). Its probably a minority opinion amongst those of us involved.
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(continued from previous commentary)
ReplyDeleteAmbivalently, I wouldn't shed a tear if he is now in Hell with the debris of that building still falling on him repeatedly. But seeking after justice has been a learning experience. You may not be politically correct; you're from Bonac; we have a history of that. And your "Christianity" is between you and God; I would not be your judge;especially with my record . You, certainly, do not disappoint or offend by having aired your opinion.
These kids we sent to war have their learning experience yet. Understandable if not correct is the right way to put it. What they haven't learned it that it makes no sense to continue beyond the grave in this manner. I might still want to piss on McVeigh's grave but judgment has already be rendered and action taken ; either by a somebody here or hereafter. The living left behind are stuck with the decision and the best thing, I think, is to move on to the next battle. Unfortunately, this guys may need understanding that will never be forthcoming as they get enmeshed in the politics and fog of battle. God be with them.
Just catching up on my blog reading and love this one! Mayberry indeed-many places in the USA were like Mayberry back in the 1950s - and few of them exist anymore. It was a more innocent time and fun for us kids (probably not so much of you were a smart woman or black person etc) and we loved it! I don't want to go bac there, but I do love it when small glimpses of those days are caught - at a fundraising dinner, or a Lost Tribe meeting, or a class reunion. There are vestiges of a small town left and we hold on to them tightly!
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