THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION IN 100 WORDS – HAPPY BIRTHDAY U.S.A.!

The Revolution was about money. Like all wars. Mostly about taxes, especially on tea, which was huge until we discovered coffee. And who should pay what to whom.

We believed we should keep all the money. King George felt otherwise. We offered to split the difference.

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George said “Hell NO!” Then we fought a war.

France, pissed at England, came with warships and troops. They helped us beat the British, then went home. In a later skirmish — “The War of 1812″ — the British returned to burn down Washington DC. We survived.

Next, we become a real country. The rest is history.

DECLARING INDEPENDENCE – A TIMELINE

Today is America’s Independence Day. It celebrates the announcement of the Declaration of Independence, our formal statement to King George and Great Britain that we no longer were willing to retain our status as colonies.

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There’s more than a little confusion about which event happened when regarding the Declaration of Independence, so here’s an historical timeline, Not everyone agrees on this precise timeline, but it’s close enough for a general consensus.

JULY 2, 1776: John Adams, a leader for independence, gets the delegates to the first Continental Congress to unanimously ratify the Declaration of Independence. Thomas Jefferson had written the draft document as there was general agreement that Jefferson was the best writer of the group.

JULY 4, 1776: The Declaration of Independence is signed. Thus July 4th became the U.S.’s official independence day, although John Adams argued it should be July 2nd, the day the document was ratified (rather than the 4th on which it was signed). But Adams argued about everything.

JULY 4, 1776 through August 2, 1776: Following its signing on July 4th, the Continental Congress announced the Declaration of Independence. It is distributed and read across the colonies. The process of reading the Declaration — getting the official word out — was not instant. It took about a month.

By August, a more attractive document displaying all the delegates’ signatures had been produced. In any case, whether or not the colonists had read or heard the document read, everyone knew what was happening. The “official word” took a month to get, but men on horseback going from town to town to tell their friends and family were faster and more thorough.

And of course people talked in pubs. Just like they do today, but without Twitter.

JANUARY 1777: The first printed versions of the Declaration of Independence for general distribution appeared. By then, the colonies are fully engaged in war.


Jefferson’s original draft, with changes by John Adams and Benjamin Franklin, as well as Jefferson’s notes of the changes made by Congress, can be viewed at the Library of Congress.

You can see the most famous version of the Declaration, the hand-written signed document, at the National Archives in Washington DC. This is the version which for which the signing was completed on August 2, 1776.

KEEP THE BARDS

From some mysterious source on the Dark Web … or maybe Facebook (is there a difference?) … comes this cartoon. Which says it all about history. Our history, your history, and everyone else’s history.

It IS good to be the King.

good to be the king cartoon

NOTE: You might not need to kill a lot of people — only those few you can’t bribe or bully into writing the story your way.

Keep the bards. They’re all suck ups anyhow.

DON’T BOGART THAT JOINT, MY FRIEND …

Speaking of being in the zone, “Have you considered marijuana?” floated past me on the conversational breeze.

It was my cardiologist speaking. Was I in the Twilight Zone? No, just him suggesting pot might be the perfect drug. For me. It would deal with a variety of issues. He wasn’t suggesting “medical marijuana” because though theoretically we have it, actually we don’t. Yet. Maybe someday.

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“Uh, yes,” I said. “The downside, other than the price tag, is coughing. Coughing hurts.”

“Take in more air when you inhale,” he said. “You’ll cough less.”

Right.

I grew up in a world where getting busted for having a couple of joints in your pocket could land you in jail for a very long time. A world in which marijuana was the gateway drug to a life of dissipation and degradation. Which would end with you face down in a gutter in some part of town where even the cops won’t go.

Now I live in a world where ones doctors recommend smoking pot.

My mother was born in 1910 and passed in 1982. Growing up, horse-drawn carts were far more common than automobiles. She was a child during World War I, a married woman and a mother in World War II. She survived — somehow — the Great Depression and marched with friends and family in a spontaneous parade of celebration when the New Deal passed. Even though the Depression didn’t really end until the war came and brought employment to everyone who wasn’t fighting.

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By the time she passed, there was cable television and home computers, two cars (at least) in every driveway. One day (I was a kid) I shouted “Oh look, a horse and cart!”

She looked bemused. “When I was your age,” she said, “We used to shout “Look, a motor car!”

And today, my doctor suggested I smoke pot. What a world, eh?


In Whose Zone?

AMERICAN SOIL IN A FOREIGN LAND – RICH PASCHALL

Last year on V.E. Day, Armistice Day for the end of World War II in Europe, I visited the American cemetery at St. Avold. It is the final home of many of America’s Greatest Generation. Upon my return home, I offered the article below. Following VE Day this past Friday, I would like to present it again.

 How a field in France became the resting place for thousands of Americans

In September of 1944 the Third US Army resumed its push across eastern France to drive opposing forces out of France and back across the border.  The Seventh US Army, after landing in southern France and joined by First French Army, drove northward.  The US Air Force provided key tactical support.  On September 21st the Third and Seventh armies joined forces providing a solid line through France to the Swiss border.  On Monday, November 27th St. Avold, France was liberated by the US 80th Infantry Division. This becomes important to our story today.

By December the eastern front was being pushed toward Germany.  On December 19th, the Third Army moved northward to counter attack at the Battle of the Bulge. The many months of fighting throughout this region brought thousands of US casualties. A temporary US military cemetery was set up at St. Avold on March 16, 1945.  The struggles to hold territory and move forward were paid for in the lives of much of the Third and Seventh Armies.  By the end of the war, the rolling fields of the Lorraine region of France at St. Avold held the remains of over 16 thousand US soldiers.

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St. Avold cemetery, France

The burial grounds of the US soldiers at St. Avold as well as four other places across France were given to the United States in perpetuity as military cemeteries. Today the Lorraine American Cemetery and Memorial is the largest World War II cemetery in Europe.  It is bigger than the more honored and remembered memorial at Normandy. Ten thousand four hundred eighty-seven of American’s finest generation lie across this 113.5 acres of land.

There are Medal of Honor winners, ace pilots, 30 sets of brothers, 151 unknown soldiers.  In addition, 444 names are inscribed on a wall to honor those who lie in unknown graves across this region of Europe.  Their bodies were lost and never returned home or to one of the hallowed grounds in France or England or Belgium or the Netherlands or Italy or Luxembourg.

When you include those in the Philippines and North Africa (Tunisia), 93,236 American soldiers found their final resting place in World War II on foreign soil that became American soil over time. The ground we visited in France was handed over without charge or taxation by a grateful nation that did not forget the sacrifice of American soldiers who fought a bitter war to win freedom for others and keep the aggression away from our shores.

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On Armistice Day in France, or what we call VE Day (Victory in Europe Day), May 8th, we walked the hallowed grounds of St. Avold and paid our respects to the greatest American generation. The rows of crosses and Stars of David fill the landscape and remind the few who remain that freedom came at a high price in 1944 and 1945. Americans were willing to stand beside people of another land to win freedom, and now many lie there in eternal rest.

I signed the guest book at one in the afternoon. I noticed I was the only American who had signed in. There were signatures of a Romanian, a German who added “in honor and respect” in German, and two French. One wrote “we will never forget the sacrifice of their lives.” I asked myself if the sacrifice will indeed be remembered or forgotten in time? Will this become, over the years, just another historical curiosity? A footnote? Ancient history forgotten by many if not most people?

Taps at St. Avold cemetary, France

Taps at St. Avold cemetery, France

It is easy to understand why there are no Americans to kneel and pray in the tall chapel, no relatives to decorate the graves or loved ones to shed tears. Many at St. Avold were too young to have children when they answered the call from Uncle Sam. They were barely more than children themselves.

Many had no remaining families. If they had siblings after the war, most have passed by now. Anyone who remains alive to honor them are likely at home, in America. Sad that the national holiday in France saw the honored dead receiving about as much attention as our honored dead will receive here at home on this coming Memorial Day. What are your holiday plans?

Read about the origins of Memorial day on the Sunday night blog here.

BEWARE OF DERANGED BOOKWORMS TOO

Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm)

Write the blurb for the book jacket of the book you’d write, if only you had the time and inclination. Photographers, artists, poets: show us BOOKS.

I can do this. I have books. I wrote a book … and it has its own blurb! Wow! I can DO this, oh world! Just hold on, let me run and get the camera and I’ll take a few pictures. I’ll be right back. Don’t leave. I won’t be gone long …

(Time: 11:10 AM EST … tick tick tick …)

Okay, I’m back and it’s just 11:21 AM. I took pictures. A few more than I intended and gave the desperate canines another round of biscuits. I’d like to know which of you rotten little terriers peed on the kitchen floor! Too cold for your little paws? You know, that could affect your biscuit distribution if I ever catch you!

Now, please wait another few minutes while I take a look at the pictures and see which ones I want to use. Stay put. I’m just going to peek into Photoshop briefly … tick tick tick …

I’m nearly ready. Not quite, but pictures take time. It’s already 12:15 PM. I never seem to leave enough time to process photos. I get hung up, frozen while trying to decide what to do with which pictures. It’s getting late and I’m not finished yet. Drat.

You can tell a lot about people from the contents of their bookcases. I’m always shocked to go into a home and discover there are no bookcases. I realize there are people who don’t read, but I still get upset. How can you not love books?

You can look at the pictures here and know a lot about both of us. We share many books … mysteries and histories … but branch off into specializations too. I’m into antiques, sci fi and fantasy. Garry is a film buff, a devotee of classic film — and baseball.

Between us, we never lack for something to talk about. Or, at least, I don’t!


 

Other entries you might enjoy:

  1. Daily Prompt: BYOB(ookworm) | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  2. My Worms Live In The Garden | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  3. Daily Feline Prompt: Bookfeline | The Cat Chronicles
  4. Star Crossed Love — A Beautiful Sadness
  5. BEWARE OF DERANGED BOOKWORMS

REMEMBERING THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING

A couple of days ago, we were at the post office and I noticed the flag was flying at half-staff. I conferred with Garry. Finally, we realized it was the second anniversary of the bombings at the Boston Marathon. Patriot’s Day, 2013.

"1st Boston Marathon blast seen from 2nd floor and a half block away" by Aaron Tang - http://www.flickr.com/photos/hahatango/8652829335/sizes/o/in/set-72157633252445135/. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1st_Boston_Marathon_blast_seen_from_2nd_floor_and_a_half_block_away.jpg#/media/File:1st_Boston_Marathon_blast_seen_from_2nd_floor_and_a_half_block_away

“1st Boston Marathon blast seen from 2nd floor and a half block away” by Aaron Tang – http://www.flickr.com/photos/hahatango/8652829335/sizes/o/in/set-72157633252445135/. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The Boston Marathon bombings and subsequent related shootings were a series of attacks and incidents which began on April 15, 2013, when two pressure cooker bombs exploded during the Boston Marathon at 2:49 pm, killing 3 people and injuring an estimated 264 others. The bombs exploded about 12 seconds and 210 yards (190 m) apart, near the finish line on Boylston Street. (Wikipedia)

That was the day that a lot of the joy went out all public events. The traditions continue, but there are shadows. There will always be shadows, fear, worry connected with any public gathering in Boston and in every city in this country. In the world.

Nothing is safe, nothing is sacred. The bombs were intended to inflict maximum injury, maiming, and death.

If there was a political point, I missed it.

The bomber, the remaining brother of the two perpetrators, has been convicted in a Federal Court. All that remains is deciding the punishment — death or life without parole. Neither seems quite enough.