Back In My Day: Civilized War – Trying Times

Per Thomas Paine, “These are the times that try men’s souls.”

I did not steal the use of that line from SD. This story had already been written and I am not changing it because it is applicable. Over the coming weeks you will read about what many continue to question and presuppose that happens in DC and Wall Street. I am just one person who lived through some of it. Magnify it exponentially with many differing perspectives over many years.

I will be leaving the name of our team’s new employer out of the story. The name is not relevant to it and I prefer to not expose any of its past employees to unwanted contact. I will use the generic name of the company whose products Wile E. Coyote used, Acme, to identify the bank going forward.

This is story is a little longer than I plan going forward as there was no stopping point that made sense. So please bear with me, there is a payoff.

Acme Small Business Begins – Uh, oh…

It was two years after 9/11 and our team was being assembled in our new offices in the same building that housed us with TVB. Everything was going according to plan and our sales force was beginning to gain traction with customers. My SCO, NSM and I were traveling to various SBA and USDA program offices around the country as time permitted, building relationships and securing SBA preferred lender status (PLP), which was earned through doing things right over years. I had been called to Nashville to meet with our bank Chairman/CEO and state banking officials to inform them of our operation and plans. The meeting went very well and we were cleared to continue nationally with our program with no restrictions. Full steam ahead was the plan. Except there was this little problem that cropped up…

https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2001-feb-27-fi-30755-story.html

W was the POTUS and he had a nasty habit of hiring incompetent cronies to important cabinet and agency positions. Which is what happened with the above by hiring Hector Barreto to head the SBA. Wanting to make inroads into Cali politics and solidify his hispanic base, W hired an empty suit who had been his co-campaign chair in the state as well as him being vice chair of the Hispanic U. S. Chamber of Commerce. He had zero government experience, much less SBA experience. Unlike today, it was a time when the annual federal budget appropriation passage still meant something to elected officials.

SBA became a target for exclusion from adequate budget appropriation. Many RINO political forces parading as conservatives (sound familiar?) within the GOP Senate were pushing everything toward the globalism. The Dems in the Senate were not helpful at all, just wanting to throw a monkey wrench into it all. Our industry was growing as the safety of government guaranteed financing had become more attractive to lenders with the quiet fear and unknown of a country at war. Small businesses that needed capital were directed toward the programs we promoted, so overall credit quality was good.

The rising demand meant the annual federal budget appropriation for guarantees was drying up quickly. More lenders than ever sought the credit protection of the guaranty. Despite the respective banking industry involved in the programs applying pressure toward elected officials, nobody in the Senate would respond. Requests and complaints to the SBA fell on deaf ears and Barreto pretended to know what he was doing with the media, when he clearly did not. In early 2004 he announced plans to decrease the maximum loan sizes by 50% to slow the volume and make the remaining appropriation last longer. He also announced major changes to loan credit policy parameters that were backbreakers. One involved excluding refinancing of existing debt on more favorable terms, another was reducing loan to value ratios on collateral of loans, and a third was the elimination piggyback loans. I will not bore you with explanations and implications of each. Just know that each were considered important to the industry and customers as things stood. All of Barreto’s changes were meant to throttle the loan volume in a draconian way, like running into a brick wall. He was not competent enough to know the repercussions. He was simply doing what somebody else up the food chain wanted him to do.

This next part may sound ridiculous to the reader with what we all have seen today. Two decades ago, over 50% of our nation’s employed population worked for small businesses. So, you would think the politicians would understand they should pay attention and take care of their needs, especially following the uncertainty of 9/11. All they needed to do was increase the appropriation to satisfy the needs of the industry and customers for the balance of the fiscal year. The amount was, are you ready for it, was…

$25 million.

Yup. That’s it. Consider all the wasteful spending in federal government. I cannot begin to describe how stupid it all was. They were $25 M from helping thousands of small businesses succeed which would continue to increase the tax base for decades.

The SBA 7(a) program collects fees from borrowers and lenders to cover the projected costs of the program including servicing underperforming and defaulted loans. That $25 M was the projected shortfall of average guaranty funds paid out to recover versus fee collection from borrowers and lenders for that period of time remaining in the fiscal year based on historical performance. It would provide for $2-2.5 B in loans nationwide BIMD in a period where the related 7(a) loan program did $7-8 B per fiscal year. That would carry the industry through without Barreto taking any action. Yet, no elected official in either political party in the Senate would take the lead and sponsor it. None. Some did not know, some did not care, and others wanted our industry to die. There will be more on that last point as we progress in the next story.

It could not have come at a worse time for us. We were in our first full year of operation. Our partial previous year produced a breakeven beginning. That was an excellent performance and testament to our team. However, we now needed to turn a budgeted profit for the calendar fiscal year while our elected officials and the SBA had undercut our industry as well as all of the small businesses that needed capital through their programs.

The director of our industry’s trade association contacted the larger and more accomplished lenders, including me, to hold a conference call to form a plan of attack to remedy the issue. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all of us were becoming desperate. The association employed its own full time lobbyists who had proven ineffective. Each person on the call offered suggestions and informed the director what they could do, which included contacting their elected officials. When it became my turn, I made my suggestions. The director asked if I personally knew, or knew anybody else who could contact GOP Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist of our state. He said they felt they had the support of key leaders in the HR, but the Senate was unresponsive. There were only two of us on the call from Tennessee, a prominent industry investment broker in Memphis who purchased and pooled some of the guaranteed loans the industry closed as well as me. I knew three of our four owners were major GOP backers. So I offered to talk with them and see if we could get a message to Sen. Frist.

A couple days after contacting them I received a call from my Chairman/CEO who provided the phone number of the chief Senate floor aide of Sen. Frist. He told me he was expecting my call. Impressed and thankful, I made the call to a super nice, sharp and helpful guy who took time to listen and ask intelligent questions. This guy…

https://policyondemand.pwc.com/Biographies/Biography/8

We discussed a plan of attack. After the call I contacted our trade association’s director to inform, who then took care of all travel arrangements and the appointments. For the first time in a while we were hopeful.

Which led to Goober Gump going to Washington DC – again.

Days and Nights in Babylon

After having a prior visit to DC being for the purposes of worshipping and spreading the Gospel, this time I felt like Daniel walking into the Lion’s Den. I shrugged it off, somebody needed to do it, might as well be me. Rock Star, daughter (affectionately named “Best Kid”) and co-workers were proud of me for responding to the challenges, so I had already won.

The trip and agenda had been carefully arranged by the director. Upon arrival and check-in at the Hyatt, I had dinner with the two lobbyists; one each for the Senate and House (HR) as well as a couple of other lenders who were meeting with key HR officials. We discussed the lobbyists’ past attempts and what they had learned. The Senate lobbyist was a bit of a beta snob who commented on liking my tailored suit and asked why I wore a buttoned down collared shirt with it. My hillbilly instincts almost got the better of me, but I brushed it off. He was going to walk me to the offices for the meetings the next day, so I remained cordial.

The next morning after breakfast we met and walked to the Russell Senate Office Building. As we entered this nearly century old landmark of our federal government, the history of who had walked through its corridors and negotiated the nation’s business was not lost on me. However, it was time to focus on the task. Our first scheduled meeting was with Senator Olympia Snowe, Maine’s other faux moderate Senator with Senator Susan Collins.

https://www.womenshistory.org/olympia-j-snowe

Senator Snowe was Chair of the Committee on Small Business and Entrepreneurship (SBE), which would be our ticket to a larger appropriation as an industry. She was the key. If she agreed, we would be gold eventually after all of the horse trading was finished, which was Senator Frist’s job using Rohit. She was relaxed, cordial, and had a confident air about her. She fit the part of a stately Senator. She also fit the part of a self made woman of note. Her story is inspiring for what she overcame early in her life to rise to that position.

The meeting included the lobbyist, one of the Senator’s aides to take notes, and me. I felt no nerves, just resolve to tell our industry’s story in more of a ground report style and answer any questions she had. I knew I was in the Lord’s care and had asked him to speak the words that needed said through me.

After greetings and small talk, the lobbyist made some brief technical remarks about legislative and agency needs involving the budget. He then demonstrated some respect and asked me to take over. I referenced Senator’s Frist’s interest and his staff’s involvement with our issues. She immediately responded that we were in very good hands, that she thought the world of the Senator as well as Rohit with whom we were working. She stated that they had worked together well on many projects and bills, that their interests were generally aligned. In fact, if she had been a schoolgirl, one might have detected a crush on our Senator. I told her that Tennessee residents were proud and honored to have him in the role he handled for our country.

Sen. Snowe proceeded to ask questions that indicated some homework was done on the subject. I was able to provide the answers as well as insight from the lender and borrower side of the critical nature of consistency in the program’s policies as well as application. I gave her a bit of appropriation funding issues history over the years of my involvement and could tell she was becoming concerned. Being a Senator from a less populated state where the vast majority of businesses were small and would be qualified under SBA and USDA loan programs, she understood completely. I then explained some of our nation’s more prominent international businesses were assisted by SBA financing in their early days; such as FedEx, Apple, Nike and Intel. I finished with more truth, that none of us could predict the next small businesses that would grow to become industry leaders that would employ thousands of Americans while lifting the nation’s tax revenues, but that it would certainly happen as it always had when conditions were consistent and fair. As an underdog at one time in her own life, I think it resonated.

At this point she leaned in. That is always THE indicator that you are in sync with each other in negotiations. You may agree or disagree with each other’s position, but you know you have the other’s focus with this body language signal. I was not expecting what she asked next. She asked me what I believed were the three most important things that we needed help in getting done besides the increased appropriation amount. I prioritized them in order, which were the previously mentioned credit parameters within the Standard Operating Procedures with piggybacks as the last one in priority. It was the one that none of us in the industry expected to get done. I knew if there was one that needed to be cut for the opponents to have their pound of flesh and reduce funding needs, it should be the one we viewed as the least likely to be approved. She and her aide took notes as I spoke while asking for clarifications when needed.

I did not tell her that my personal goal was to bat three for four counting the increased appropriation. Getting the appropriation plus our most important SOP credit parameter relating to permitting refinancing would even be a win for the industry.

I sensed that it was time to go as she had no further questions; that the case was made and she was a very busy with much on her plate. I stated my personal appreciation of her time and consideration, that it was an honor to meet her and be given time to tell our story. She stood with a smile and we shook hands.

It was about a thirty minute conversation. I felt confident as we exited back into the hallway. Something inside told me I had not made a fool of myself or let the industry down, that she sincerely cared and could follow what I proposed. I had the peace from the Lord that surpasses all understanding. Even the lobbyist had become a fan boy as we headed toward the next meeting. His prissy attitude the night before had turned joyful.

Before we leave my time with Sen. Snowe, a few observations should be stated. One, the Russell Building is filled with history, however, Trump Tower it wasn’t. It sort of looked like a cluttered firetrap to me in various places and offices. It needed a good HGTV type facelift. Common areas and the rotunda are nice enough., but less than I expected. I have no idea if the interior offices have been renovated since that point. The exterior was a dozen years later. Another thing is the power of the desk in her office. The desk was old with beautiful wood that totally dominated her office. It represented the past years of the Senators who preceded her. The guest chairs were comfortable and sat low, much lower than the Senator at her desk. I suspect that it was arranged that way with purpose to exude the power of the position.

The last observation, which will mean more later, Sen. Snowe was not in the Heritage Foundation’s pocket.

Next Stop – Senator John Kerry’s Office

The Ranking Member of the Senate SBE was Sen. Kerry. That placed him at that time as the SBE’s head of the Democrat minority. I learned that of course, Sen. Kerry would not be meeting with us, that he was out of the country. Well, at least he was consistent. There have been politicians through the years I could not stomach and Lurch was near the top. He would have blown off a meeting even if he had been in town. He never showed up for SBE meetings as its Ranking Member.

Instead, we would be meeting with his chief committee aide, Kevin Wheeler. Before you wonder who that guy was, understand Kevin is a real woman, not a tranny wannabe woman. Information about her included in this press release about an award she received.

https://www.zynsys.com/sbir/articles/08poy.htm

She has made a career of working in roles associated with the Democrat Senate and HR SBE’s as well as within SBA. In summary, she’s a Democrat operative and influencer. She is listed as Deputy Democratic Staff Director for the HR’s SBE.

I already knew Kevin from past conferences of our trade association. As a result the meeting was informal, short and friendly. She was very knowledgable of the industry, SBA, the politics and the issues at hand. I simply told her the 7(a) program needed fixed before politics and Baretto of SBA killed the goose that laid the golden egg for small businesses. She agreed as she had been a proponent for years. She said she would deal with Kerry about it when he returned. Which is what she always called him – Kerry – with folks she knew. No matter, I knew Kevin would champion our industry’s interests at all times.

At this point the lobbyist was nearly wetting his pants. He was rethinking his opinion of hillbillies.

A Little Help For Our HR Friends

Even though the HR was clued in and likely to approve what our industry wanted, they still would have to reconcile the related omnibus bill in conference with the Senate. So our association’s director thought it would be good for me to have a discussion with the Chair of the SBE in the House, NY Democrat Representative Nydia Velasquez.

https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/nydia-m-velazquez

We finished the day with her. She was a strong backer of SBA programs for many years and still is as the current Ranking Member. I had spoken with her previously at conferences as well. We discussed why I was there and conversations we were having with their Senate counterparts on the primary credit parameter issues and appropriation. She was well aware and reassured me they were on it. I stated our appreciation and wished her well. By nature she is a serious as well as intelligent lady. We may not agree on many other issues, however, we had common ground on this one.

At this point the lobbyist was just shaking his head. Our time together was done. We shook hands and I wished him well. After that week, I bet he understood the power of wearing button down shirt collars with his suits. 😀

One More Quick Visit

I spent the evening in the hotel, calling home and checking through emails. The next morning after breakfast I checked in with Rohit to let him know how the previous day went. He told me he would have a plan in place, inform Sen. Frist, and call me as needed. Rohit is a pro’s pro, a doer. He was not just juggling our needs, he had dozens of other fires to put out every day. I had great respect for him.

I contacted our association director to let him know that I was heading back to Tennessee. I brought him up to speed on everything and he was very appreciative. I told him that when Rohit had news for us he would call, so he should keep his his cell with him at all times. It was Friday and time to take a taxi to Reagan to hop on a jet and get back to the hills and the real world. Coming home, baby…

Yup.

Conclusion

During this Goober Gump adventure I had no discussions with anybody who was like minded with me in personal belief system as well as political matters. We shared a common bond on the need for capital for small businesses and support of the SBA loan programs, which was the purpose of our time together. I doubt any of us would choose to be friends socially, although I sincerely liked Sen. Snowe. We were all different. Some were swamp critters, some were helping swamp critters, others were fighting off swamp critters. They would have little use for a hillbilly outsider if it were not for the business at hand. I was not there to make friends or enemies, I was there to get an important job done.

It was not necessary to be friends; it was necessary to be friendly. It was not necessary for them to know everything I knew about the programs; it was necessary that they could trust the information I provided them. It was not necessary to be an ideologue; it was necessary to be pragmatic to achieve the primary goals. It was not necessary to put on airs and play the dog; it was necessary to be down to earth and truthful. It was not necessary to use precise or overly technical language; it was necessary to be easily understood. It was not necessary to bow down to authority; it was necessary to establish a bond of equals.

We all have equal value and a purpose, no matter the position or power.

Respect others to be respected. Love others to be loved. Help others to be helped. Be kind to others to receive kindness. That they all allocated me their time and truly listened to what I had to say was enough. In contrast we are in a period of history today when precious few actually listen to understand first before demanding to be understood. The multitude are screaming nonsense, activated by evil people to destroy rather than build.

We need civility and critical thinking restored. One does not have to compromise one’s values to be civil with others. It’s hard to gain an understanding and perspective of another’s position on things with so much anger. Proverbs 15:1 – “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (NASB)

I hope some of you picked up on a few things that might be useful going forward. Thank you for taking your time. The story continues…

Back In My Day: Civilized War – Think Hebrew

If you have found value in any of my BIMD stories to date, please understand that this one begins a series of events that “trumps” them all in terms of worldly and eternal importance. In my opinion, it is the critical piece that many are not understanding. Everything from this point forward in BIMD will hinge around the following worldview.

Greek Versus Hebrew Thought

One of the challenges in western society is how to relate to what we see worldwide from other people who think and act differently than we do. Instead of adapting to the differences, westerners tend to demand that others understand them first. They assert rather than reason together.

In general, much of America thinks Greek. Legalized and institutionalized, it has led to denominations in the Christian faith and form over substance in every corner. We want order and a line of authority for decision making. Those not in authority are to listen and do according to instructions.

Our entire system of government has changed from its design and laws that involved serving the people to an unauthorized system of the people serving officials in government and their corporate cronies. Political party leaders work together to divvy up the spoils without regard to the betterment of the whole. They make sure the military along with certain aspects of law enforcement and judiciary have the tools and are strong enough to serve their goals first instead of the needs of the people. That is Greek.

A good summary to help with understanding Greek versus Hebrew thought is below. Realize that I am not referring to the actions and words of the nation of Israel today, which is openly secular. Please take time to read, it does not take much time, especially if you do not have knowledge of the subject. Hopefully, it will impact your understanding and views of the world as it did mine some 40 years ago, of which I confess, need refreshed from time to time.

Hebrew Thinking Vs. Greek Thinking

Back in my day in Arkansas when I was taking the Bethel Bible Series, we had an expression that was repeated throughout; think Hebrew. It was a reminder to keep in context what we read as having been originated and framed by the Hebrews from God’s instructions. In other words, we needed to suspend our normal Greek type thinking patterns and beliefs to understand The Word in the manner it was written and intended. Yahweh, the God of Israel, thought Hebrew.

The linked article provides insight into the mind of Christ as well as the Hebrews in those times. What is learned can be applied across the spectrum of the nations of the world if we want to understand the bigger war that rages around us and has been underway for thousands of years.

Or we can trust governments, politicians, deep staters and the media to tell us how we should think and see things.

That would be a hard pass from this guy.

1997-1998

The Year of Jubilee described in Lev. 25:9 for the Hebrew nation occurred in the year following seven cycles of seven years. It is a sabbatical year. Per Chapter 25 it involved a year of release from indebtedness and all types of bondage. All prisoners and captives were set free, all slaves were released, all debts were forgiven, and all property was returned to its original owners.

Boom – party time in ancient Israel!

My figurative first personal year of Jubilee came seven years early. Seven is mentioned more times in scripture than any other number. It is one of four “perfect” numbers. Three represents divine perfection, seven is spiritual perfection, ten relates to ordinal perfection and twelve is for governmental perfection. There is one reasonably short explanation linked below which will help the purposes of my story.

https://www.christianity.com/wiki/bible/what-is-the-biblical-significance-of-the-number-7.html

That period, 1997-1998, saw the end of the turmoil of my lawsuit and FIB engagement years involving the equipment company. My small business banking career zoomed such that my employer could no longer support the ever increasing loan volume of customers. The period saw our family’s spiritual lives grow beyond measure. My cup literally ran over in all aspects. I realized that the Lord had honored my decision to completely humble myself and follow it up with actions from a sincere and contrite heart. He knew that I knew that I did not deserve it and would accept the opposite as just and merciful given my past.

I was not instantly a man without error and sin. I still struggle at times. It took time and understanding to gain higher ground, to take off the old coat and put on the new. Rock Star and our daughter were instrumental in the process. However, the fulfillment of my promise was recognized by Him seven (yes – seven again) years later from the day of my choosing to rededicate.

As a side note, “seven” in my life became humorous at times. Despite what some may believe, I never sought the number out or framed anything with it. Stuff just happens with Goober Gump. For decades on non-work days when I could sleep in, my natural body rhythm would even wake me up at 7:14 AM no matter how late I went to bed. I would wake up totally refreshed, ready to take on the day. For the past two days as I have worked on the revisions of this story I have woken up at … 7:14 AM. 😂

It’s just confirmation I am doing what I should be doing. The Lord has a wonderful sense of humor if we are paying attention.

One of my favorite historical figures is Joshua. Just a great man of faith and dedication who served his people and God. Deut. 34:9 says “Now, Joshua the son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, for Moses had laid his hands on him.” Joshua’s selection as leader of the nation followed Moses’ divine appointment and decades of leadership. Moses undoubtedly laid hands on Joshua as God directed him and the torch was passed. Joshua then led the Hebrews into The Promised Land upon the death of Moses on Mount Ne’bo as God ordained.

I realized the significance of my own symbolic walls of Jericho falling as the real ones did for Joshua as they went about seizing the land God promised. I lost all reason to fear anything at all other than Him. I knew what I knew. At his choosing God determines the time, the place, the method, and the people that are to be involved in accomplishing His will. When we are obedient, we wait until He says, “Go.” It was time for me to grow, step up to the plate and do as Joshua did as well as the prophet Isaiah in Chapter 6, who said, “Here I am Lord, send me.”

How Joshua and Isaiah responded made it easier for me to understand how to fulfill my promise of faithfulness to the Lord in the world in which He placed me. It did not involv leading or spiritually advising a nation. I was to do what He desired of me where I was planted.

Neyland Stadium, Knoxville, TN – June 1997

Some of you may remember a men’s Christian organization started by former University of Colorado football head coach, Bill McCartney, and some of his Christian associates. It is called Promise Keepers, which is still operating today.

Promie Keepers 2.0

Seeing a need in the community and congregation, our pastor and youth minister began organizing a group of members to attend an upcoming gathering of men the organization planned to hold in Neyland Stadium. In summary, the purpose of the org was to help men understand and live as the Bible teaches. Nothing more, nothing less. It scared the heck out of feminists and orgs like NOW. They knew that if men ever learned to be men after God’s own heart, feminism would never take root as women would be freed to fulfill their equally important mission as God directed in His Word.

About a dozen of us in our congregation committed to go to the gathering that was held over a weekend starting on Friday evening. When the day arrived, the weather began to be as uncooperative as the dozen NOW picketers at the stadium. When the primary program of speakers began on Saturday, it had turned cool and wet with light rain the entire day into the evening. Nobody left and the numbers kept increasing. There were about 40,000 of us there.

As Coach, Franklin Graham, Tony Evans, Adrian Rogers and others delivered the prayers and powerful messages laid on their hearts the men broke down and praised God. The music was off the charts inspiring. The fellowship with everybody was so fulfilling. We all had common purposes and interests. At one point the program leader asked all pastors to stand. After they did, he asked all others sitting nearby to lay hands on them as we all prayed to strengthen their ministries and resolve in this fight over the souls of mankind. As the Lord would have it, a half dozen or so of us white guys along with several black guys laid hands on a local black pastor, giving him hugs and exchanging names and phone numbers with each other afterwards should any ever need assistance in their work for the Lord. This was done throughout the stadium. As things go with Goober, I met a young man sitting nearby who knew my first cousin who lived five hours away in Virginia, who was also a PK supporter. Many of us responded to the local needs from phone calls of attendees when called later to a local food pantry and a homeless shelter.

At that moment I was reminded once again that people are people and skin color has nothing to do with how we could and should live, respect, love and honor one another. We just need to stop listening and doing what those who would divide want us to do. From that moment on the Lord has placed people of all skin colors, ethnic backgrounds and situations in my path that pounded the point home in my head and heart. Many were not Christian. They were of many other religions, agnostic and atheist. My role was not to ‘convert the pagans’ as some would approach it. My job was to just plant seeds of faith, pray for them, support them and live out my faith by treating everybody equally.

As Saturday’s program was beginning to close I looked up toward the south end zone of the stadium directly across from the stage and toward the iconic “VOLS” lettering atop it that fans know. With the Smoky Mountain rain and a fog closing in I noticed a young man standing alone with arms raised in a “V” for victory in front of the lettering as we sang Victory in Jesus. I lost it as did many of the guys around me who saw him. Just a spontaneous act by an unknown believer which I will always cherish. I told my family and friends afterwards that I knew what Neyland Stadium was for and it had nothing to do with football. Those who were there understood what I meant.

It is time to note that the people who served the participants meals and other assistance in this and other PK events around the nation over its now 25 year existence have been primarily women. Women who want men to learn to be Godly as The Word states. Women who support men being men, who care for their men with selfless love. Rock Star could not go to do likewise that weekend as our daughter was young, but she heard all of it over the radio. As I returned in the evenings she met me at the door with the biggest smile on earth. We both knew what we knew. Nothing could ever separate us from Him or each other in this world as long as we had breath. I gave thanks for PK and immediately began to dig into the publications and listen to the CD’s I had purchased.

It did not end there. There was a national calling by Coach and PK to head to DC a few months later in October. They felt it was time to hit the Mall with a million men praying. It would be a day of national repentance, where we could all stand on a national stage for Christ. When the date approached, eight of us loaded into the church van and headed to our nation’s capital the day before. We checked into our motel rooms in Maryland while our youth minister coordinated with other pastors and leaders for the place to meet in the morning to take the train into DC.

When morning came, I turned on the TV to watch the local news. Lo and behold a leader of NOW was being interviewed. She was asked about the PK event that day and all of the men descending upon the area from all over the country. I still remember her comments when asked what it all meant and what they expected. At one point she said, “This is scary!” At that moment I knew we were over target. She then said they had plans to protest at the event.

Upon our arrival at the Mall via buses from the train terminal, we began looking for said protesters who were being allowed to be near the rear of the stage area behind a blockade. The big protest was nine people with a few signs of which four were men. We walked right by them as we moved back into the crowd to find an open spot. There were a couple of PK’s who had stopped to witness to them and invite them to attend, but they refused to engage in conversation. A small number of more protesters could have come to join them later after the program began, but we would never have known as there were none to be found after the event when the news reporters’ cameras were turned off. Of course they were featured on the news as a massive protest, just another example of a corrupted media from 25 years ago. The problem they had was the entire event was filmed by PK as well as being televised by C-SPAN. We also have the receipts through photos many of us took. The original C-SPAN production is linked below – all 6+ hours.

https://www.c-span.org/video/?92262-1/promise-keepers-rally

In my opinion it is a worthy investment of time to watch because it shows who much of America really is as well as a lot about the supporters of MAGA today. You may find it interesting to see females in the crowd, who were welcome at this event and all other conferences as well.

The official NPS reports and local media tried to play down the numbers. The NPS rangers working crowd control on site that we talked with were more honest. Over a million people and it was really obvious as you surveyed the crowd. The news reports said 3-400 K or so. The Mall could not contain the number of men that extended into the side streets as well as into overflow areas past the Washington Memorial where huge jumbotrons had been placed to broadcast it. We found ourselves in the middle of it all. Speaker after speaker brought their messages. Music and prayers were lifted along with requests for the Lord to heal our land and forgive us. Meanwhile Rock Star and daughter were able to see it on TV back in TN. They understood the significance. We were all in together as a family.

Conclusion

It would be seven (yup) more years later before my next figurative Year of Jubilee would begin from the ashes of an industry in turmoil following 9/11. We will get to that down the road. I just want to leave this truth with you. If as a Christian you are skating through life without real challenges and difficulties placed in your path; be concerned. Those who give themselves over to the Lord and His work know about what I am stating. At times Satan and his minions will incite and stir trouble against the followers of Christ. However, if you never experience said trouble, Satan is probably not all that worried about you. You might want to take your efforts up a notch. That’s why Paul delighted in all the trouble he faced as He witnessed and served the Lord.

This PK Stand in the Gap assembly was followed by 9/11 four years later. We know the truth of that horrific day is known to the One that matters most even if our government never reveals what actually happened. The Lord was there that day as well, even in the pain and suffering. It is just a great truth that He gives us all free will that may be used for good or evil. No real follower of Christ could ever participate in or condone the evil that happened that day. So you know from whom the evil came, similar to those who persecuted Jesus. Just know that God will sort it out.

As momentum grew for redemption and reconciliation grew stronger in our nation leading up to it, the forces of darkness were unleashed on our land. National blood and treasure was spent in far away lands for many nefarious purposes that were deceptively presented to American citizens as patriotic by our leaders. As those years were slowly absorbed and we moved on, the next “disaster” of a potential total economic collapse was initiated on and by Wall Street and government leaders. As that was gradually dealt with and average Americans began to gain ground, the plandemic was implemented to once again sell America out while evilly injuring and killing us for power and profit. Just in the past 25 years or so we should be detecting a repeating pattern.

What happened at Stand in the Gap was about reconciliation of people of all types and breaking the chains that separate us. It was uniting, not dividing. It was not about preventing attacks on our nation. It was about supporting each other as the inevitable attacks come. The more that people can reconcile with the Lord and one another, the less likely it will be that the evil acts are effective. Stand in the Gap scared the pants off the cabal and their cronies just as MAGA does today. You know who the enemies of God and this nation are by their reaction to the principles of the Christian faith and MAGA.

Stand in the Gap was about helping to restore our American family, a struggle that continues today. It was about preserving a nation uniquely dedicated to God and His purposes at its founding. President Trump works hard to build back the true American patriotic spirit and MAGA. To go forward, we also now need to look back and remember as the nation of Israel was frequently reminded so long ago. We need to return to our faith roots as a nation.

II Chronicles 7:14 (yup) states, “…and My people who are called by My name humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (NASB). My advice is to finish reading that passage through verse 22.

Think Hebrew. Chayah. From Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew Lexicon it means: to live, have life, remain alive, sustain life, live prosperously, live for ever, be quickened, be alive, be restored to life or health.

We need Revival to help us focus our eyes on Jesus. It is the matching bookend to MAGA.

II Chronicles 7:14-22. Look it up and think it through.

Back In My Day: Goober Gump’s Misadventures – A Box of Assorted Chocolates

Before we move on to Goober Gump’s more recent adventures of the past 25 years or so, it is time to revisit some lessons learned through the years, some politics, some faith journey observations, and “wonder what happened to…” answers from the period. Instead of meandering prose, I will go point by point. Goober’s own version of “Momma said…”.

Lessons Learned

Most of us want to live in freedom and peace. We disdain conflict and oppression as natural instincts. Our opposition knows that and uses it to their advantage until there is major pushback.

Never trust the government’s word for anything.

I am responsible for me. Pointing fingers at others solves nothing.

The first step to personal freedom is to accept you are going to physically die at some point. Accept it, then you will be more prepared for when it happens.

Many of us take human interaction too casually. Many of us simply do not realize or even care how our actions and words impact others around us. That is a choice we also make – to care about the well being of others or not.

All of us deal with something in our lives that had or is having a negative impact. Nobody is exempt from trouble.

Honest intentions matter even if we mess up the delivery of what we intended.

It is what it is. To pretend it is not, will not change what it is.

Truth is truth and does not need any of us to agree with it to be true. I learned I liked being on the side of truth no matter the cost.

Avoid interaction with people who frame all of their arguments. They are not interested in discussion or considering other thoughts, just persuading you to accept theirs.

Law enforcement and the judiciary may be mercenaries as well as controlled opposition at times.

Politicians create situations while passing and using laws to achieve personal and sometimes, nefarious ends. Law enforcement and judiciary play their parts in making it happen. At times the alphabets are used by powerful people who will move you out of their way, ruin you and kill you if necessary to achieve their goals. J6 was all you needed to see if you did not know it before. Stay out of their crosshairs if at all possible, but never back away from the truth if you believe in eternal life.

If you can retain your integrity and values while being involved in politics, law enforcement and the judiciary – America needs you desperately.

Powerful people and politicians create conflict to make even more money and gain even more power that compels average folks to go to war, figuratively and literally, to defend their families, communities and nation. Those same powerful people then take credit for the positives, if any, that come from the warfare while enriching themselves regardless of the outcome. Their names go into the history books, not yours. Choose your involvement wisely.

Sacrificing principles and truth for the sake of reconciliation or to build consensus is not a good idea.

Music can help heal the mind and soul. It may also be used to lead you astray and cause depression and even death. Choose your music wisely.

Those who have accomplished much in their careers and lives have common characteristics. They identify what they want to accomplish and what drives them to succeed. They then put in the work and do it their way. In virtually all of their cases in this BIMD series, they paid it forward in some way(s) that have provided great benefits to others. I have learned that most do it because they truly care and want to leave the world a better place.

Money can corrupt our lives if we allow it. Money is a tool, not an end goal.

Don’t overthink things.

Embrace change.

Some people delight in the destruction of others regardless of having reason to or not.

You can recover from personal disasters and be restored in a manner far beyond your greatest expectations. Never. Give. Up.

Politics

Some people are willing to sell their souls to be elected (appointed) master over others.

Many elected officials have honest intentions to serve their constituents’ best interests when first elected. I have learned this view frequently changes to one of being served and dictating what they want to have happen during the rest of their careers.

Most politicians become corrupted by special interests, so they enter office compromised in some way. They build alliances along the way to being elected and add to them afterwards. They richly profit from this activity.

The Uniparty in America is real and has run government for many years. They have a system that confuses the general public, yet is well known to them in playing their parts.

If you do not play politics well and are not willing to dance with the devil, stay out.

This country and parts of the world are ruled by The Big Club. There are a number of smaller clubs that contribute members, support and assets as needed to accomplish the desires of Big Club members. Many of the American Big Club members laugh at the mention of being Democrat or Republican. They are neither. They run in the same circles and are friends and business associates.

Election cheating has been a thing in America for over 200 years. The process utilized has evolved, but the intent is still the intent – appoint who serves The Big Club the best using whatever method is necessary.

Faith Journey

I learned the greatest of these is love, however, it is faith in Jesus that sustains me.

It is on me to investigate and consider all information and data to determine truth or lies. I choose to do that through the instructions of Jesus. That is my world view. Others may choose to take different routes. That choice is theirs to make. You own your choice.

You gotta serve somebody, just like Bob Dylan sang. If you don’t choose who, the choice will be made for you.

God’s natural creation is beautiful.

I chose one day who me and my house would serve just like Joshua. Joshua 24:15.

Life is in the blood. COVID is a current reminder. The Cross is the permanent reminder. No greater love has ever been expressed than at Calvary.

As a citizen you either believe America was dedicated to God in its founding documents or you do not. It should be obvious why that is important. Nations have risen and fallen throughout history based on that belief and choice.

There was no known Jewish presence among the framers and signers of the Declaration of Independence and Constitution. There was a total population of around 2500 Jews in America’s population of 2 million people during those days. Only about 100 served in our military during the fight for independence. As a result the God that is referenced in those documents is attributed to the Christian view of same. Just an observation to ponder and one I will be bringing back when the Civilized War series returns.

My life and those of my loved ones, friends and co-workers changed noticeably for the better when I made the choice to totally give all of me to Jesus and follow Him. More to come on that subject in the near future.

You can KNOW that He is God and that He loves you, forgives you and will never forsake you. It is entirely up to you. He will not force Himself into your life, you have free will. However, he will respond if you do.

Wonder What Happened To…

My ex? Married to her third husband, the local banker dude her parents targeted before me many years ago. Wish they had succeeded. Her parents have passed away.

Many of my friends in Arkansas who were not tied to the area by family associations moved away. The SAC AF base was closed and with it went a thousand related area jobs and dozens of businesses who could no longer survive. Many farming families in the region sold out to corporate farming operations. The community has declined significantly in population and become a blip on the radar screen of life. Fortunately for the locals, the Bush’s Beans canning operation remains.

The banking officers and staff I worked with in East TN back in those days have also moved on via relocation, leaving the industry and retirements. It was a tumultuous time in the industry with mergers and acquisitions all of the time. Gone are the older, experienced bankers who had seen the goods and the bads; the ups and downs of the economy who could help guide their customer bases through the dangers. They were replaced with lower paid younger, inexperienced versions who were trained to be order takers with all decisioning made via computers from input of people located hundreds to thousands of miles away. Cookie cutter banking became a thing. Decentralized main street banking gave way to globalist controlled. It extended to government controls and regulation through various acts of Congress and the White House that have led to the bubbles and bursting of same that wrecked havoc on average Americans. Community banks did not die out as the feds and globalists wanted. It was difficult for many due to the compliance needed to satisfy the regulators, so some sold out to larger institutions. However, many flourished and grew stronger as customers became highly dissatisfied with globalist versions. Many other customers found refuge in using credit unions, which exploded in number nationwide. Where there is a will, there is a way.

Equipment Company

The shisters fell victim to the weight of their lies and criminal activity over time. It was totally shuttered back in the debt market and economic collapse of 2008. They began closing locations a couple of years after we settled the lawsuits in the late 1990s. The bank that held their debt finally woke up to the fact they had been conned and began to systematically squeeze them by making them comply with their loan agreements with no waivers. During our lawsuits they believed the lies to some extent until the truth became apparent. Like most bankers they needed to reserve enough potential loss on their own financial statements, so they stalled until it could not be stalled any longer as the regulators could see the company was a fraud. After which they deemed themselves insecure per the loan agreements and called their loans due immediately. The company chose reorganizational bankruptcy that allowed them to liquidate over time and cease existence. Good riddance.

Shocker – FIB, DODGE, IRS, EPA, etc. did nothing to the company and its owners and operators despite all of the criminal activity. I presume their attorney/Chairman called in favors or bluffed his way through it. The only difficulty they faced while still operating came from the Chairman of the state’s Underground Storage Tank governance; a long time local friend and business during those days. He made sure they were audited and tested regularly for the period they remained in business, which made me smile.

The company’s attorney/Chairman lost his golden goose that laid the golden egg and it was not long thereafter, his law firm went with it. Our referral to the Board of Professional Responsibility dinged his record and word spread within the legal community that alerted many to the snake he really was. The firm lost clients and could not attract new ones. Other attorneys in the firm left until there was only he and his son. They closed it down soon after as he could no longer milk the equipment company for any income. He is in his 80s and still resides in the area, albeit in poor health.

The patriarch owner of the equipment company passed away soon after the termination of the lawsuits to very little fanfare. He was a miserable human being. His wife is still alive and in her early 90s. Her GM son, now in his early 60s, is still around doing nothing along with his older brother. When their mom dies they will probably sell the family farm and live off of the proceeds.

My attorneys from the lawsuit are nearing retirement, yet remain active in the firm. Good guys.

The FIB agents retired and moved away from the area. The assistant US attorney retired and remains in the area.

Arkansas Mafia

The Arkansas mafia deserves a special section. Several from the cast of characters bit the dust and aged out. A few went to prison like Jim Guy Tucker who was governor after Slick. He was convicted in Whitewater and had to leave office. Mike Huckabee followed him as Governor. Note: it took nearly 20 years for Ken Starr to take down some of the Whitewater participants from the time the mess began as I was leaving my Little Rock bank employer. A summary version that would satisfy Democrat viewpoint is provided in the link below.

https://encyclopediaofarkansas.net/entries/whitewater-scandal-4061/

Tucker was another of the Harvard educated crowd of politicians and globalist business people in that state. This was a common denominator along with other liberal college and graduate school grads as we have seen play out over the years. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Northwestern, Georgetown, Vanderbilt, etc. are all listed on resumes. A handful also came through West Point and Annapolis. The Harvard educated politicos included Tucker and Wilbur Mills (of Fanne Foxe stripper fame) as well as Sen. Cotton today. As the older heads left the scene, their younger lieutenants stepped onto the stage. Slowly over time many were fired by voters as Mike Huckabee, a wealthy businessman/attorney named Sheffield Nelson and others remade the GOP. The same Sheffield Nelson who was a Dem during the Clinton rise to power who switched to the GOP and became a mortal enemy of the Arkansas Mafia and its wealthy kingmakers; patriarch, Witt Stephens, and brother, Jack, that I featured in a previous BIMD. Not only did he pizz off Witt and Jack, he switched to support the GOP when the Stephens had just switched horses to the Dems and Clinton. It’s highly doubtful Sheffield was ever invited into membership at Augusta National by Jack as he had cut himself out of membership in The Big Club. I doubt he lost any sleep over it.

For a more fair link on Sheffield Nelson see below.

Sheffield Nelson: An Accomplished Life

To add more “color” to Whitewater and Nelson’s anti-Clinton and supporters position, this Newsweek article from those days provides it.

https://www.newsweek.com/source-whitewater-190308

It took a lot of principled men and women to turn Arkansas around politically. When they did America began to be served well. Which led to this lady bursting onto the scene as a future leader with whom many Americans can identify.

https://www.breitbart.com/politics/2023/02/02/gov-sarah-huckabee-sanders-deliver-republican-response-bidens-state-union-address/

By being loyal to President Trump and never backing down from the fake news media, she earned her place in American history. The citizens of Arkansas voted her into the governor’s mansion by a 2:1 margin in her first run for public office. The move away from liberal politics and politicians has been completed in that state and the remaining Establishment types are next on the removal agenda. Once the general public recognized the indoctrination and brainwashing of students by liberal colleges and graduate schools, their presence on a political candidate’s resume in the state became disqualifying. Other than Cotton, the vast majority were educated in the state.

Sort of a strange and ironic observation is that three Arkansas governors were born in the same small town of Hope, AR; one of which who became POTUS. Even Clintonites Mack McLarty and Vince Foster were from the town. The town has a population of less than 9K today and is located in a rural nowhere in the southwestern corner of the state. With their elections, you could not pick two families and supporters that are more polar opposite in their morals, ethics and politics. Which is similar to the rest of America. The good news in that state is the white hats replaced the black hats.

Conclusion

We will resume the steady march toward DC and Wall Street with the next BIMD. Of course Goober will need to make a left turn to Cali along the way. He wouldn’t be Goober if the journey went without incident. Oh well…

Back In My Day: Civilized War – 40 Is Just a Number, Right?

As we left the last segment, I had accepted a position as Chief Administrative Officer of a family owned regional equipment related company with expansion plans. There were numerous strains on our family. Rock Star and I had made difficult decisions and were proceeding with our plan.

Off To a Big Start

Upon starting as part of my job description I was to arrange a new, more company advantageous banking arrangement that provided financing for new facilities and equipment inventory in new locations. After getting that successfully done, the new bank’s commitment letter was given to the ownership to execute to start the loan documentation The company and bank attorneys were authorized to negotiate the final language and terms. This was done over the course of that first month of my employment and the financing package was executed by ownership.

As part of that financing, the company agreed to provide CPA audited, unqualified opinion financial statements for the bank to review each year to determine the company’s financial situation. In the past when their financing needs had been much less, the lending bank had only required reviewed financial statements. The testing requirements for CPA reviewed financial statements are far less stringent than with the former. Since there was much more funding involved the new lender wanted assurances that what the company represented was accurate. They had no problem with continuing to use the company’s existing CPA who had formerly worked for the international firm of KPMG. In addition the bank required a third party appraisal of the company’s equipment and parts inventory to be completed annually. Again, the ownership agreed.

Thankfully for me, the owners had only themselves to blame for what happened next.

Disaster

About three months into my employment I had already observed numerous activities and situations that were very concerning. First, it appeared the CEO was on drugs, as in Percocets in a bottle he left out out on his desk, yet, did not exhibit or talk about any illnesses or disabilities. The presence of which probably explained some of his wild mood swings. The primary owner, the patriarch of the family, was elderly and never visited the offices, but apparently also was a druggie per a few employees who made deliveries of personal items to his home. His wife owned a business adjacent to the company headquarters and appeared to handle the executive decisions with her husband after consulting with the company attorney. Even that came into doubt later.

Over the ensuing months I made documentation changes and reworked the flow within the office. I noted equipment would periodically not be found on the lots, yet listed as being in inventory on the computer. I noted disturbing events and suspected they were committing insurance fraud with the assistance of a couple of off duty local law enforcement officers they employed as weekend security at the main location. Items would allegedly be stolen at night and a homeless vagrant arrested and charged with the theft. The equipment would never be recovered by the investigating police. The company would then make a claim on their insurance. The insurance company suspected fraud, but had no proof and could not deny the claim because the police would pick up a reported thief and charge him.

Each weekend one of the off-duty local police officers working security of the equipment lots at the primary warehousing area would be on duty when the thefts happened. The same officers who somehow helped apprehend each homeless vagrant right after they had supposedly stolen equipment. Then one day I had a conversation with a long time contractor friend who disclosed he had bought used equipment from the owners out on their farm outside of town. He paid cash for the equipment at about 25% of value. That led me to more quiet investigations as we tried to account for the inventory on the books in advance of the CPA audit after year end. The CEO would just smile and say, “It has been a mess for a long time.”

It became obvious they were selling the company’s equipment for cash. The homeless guy who would be arrested could care less, he would have a roof over his head and food to get out of the heat or cold for awhile. As long as a charge was pending or a conviction occurred, the company was in the clear for financial reporting purposes.

The owners never removed the old fully depreciated equipment from the books because some of it was actively rented. It would be included in their appraised assets, if the items still existed, on the equipment appraisal. Of course no income from the sale of this or the “stolen” equipment ever hit the income statement or tax return. The same would be true of some of the fully depreciated equipment that was rented if paid by the customer in cash. That cash went into their pockets. So the bank believed they had a larger value of equipment as collateral than actually existed and the IRS never received the taxes that would have been due from the sale and rental of said fully depreciated and “stolen” equipment had it been left on the books. State and local sales taxes also should have been collected on legitimate sales that were also fraudulently avoided.

The long term CPA knew about it all and more as it had been going on as a practice for decades. He had a problem as well, the completion of the audit with the new financial reporting requirements would blow the whole thing wide open.

But wait , there’s MOAR!

Reverse Oil Wells

If you have a business that sells and services equipment, you are required by law to dispose of waste fluids in accordance with local, state and EPA requirements. There are costs and fees associated with the disposal. But there are no costs associated if it disappears. The company would pay to dispose of a nominal amount to reduce suspicion. Much of the rest would disappear into a septic tank in the ground at one specific branch location. Oil, antifreeze, waste fuel, etc, poured into the drains leading to the septic system in the ground. Until the state underground storage bank (UST) board found out about it in a routine soil test near the company’s old fuel tanks. In which case a review was ordered. A fine was charged that was minuscule compared to the normal costs and fees of disposing of it all legally on a daily basis. Which they appealed and it was reduced. Since the company had been paying the state assessed fees for clean up of underground storage tanks (UST) per state and federal law, they became eligible for state removal and cleanup as the septic tank was located adjacent to the fuel tanks. A little help from friendly politicians at the state level and the project received sufficient funding of the clean up of the site of the fuel tanks as well as the septic tank from the state’s UST fund.

The City authorities then ordered the company to connect to city sewer to seemingly end the nasty activity.

Except they continued disposing illegally at that location and others by pouring it into the storm sewer system or taking it out to their farm to do God knows what with it.

And yet..

I had started with the company in the summer and it was now nearing spring in mid March of the following year. Much was known about some of their past sins of operation and I had devised and implemented plans to fix the more glaring. This included buying a small environmental remediation company that had equipment that could be used to legitimize the company’s waste operations, whose products could also be sold to other customers. The profits of which would pay for the acquisition in a few years and the company would go from EPA villain to good citizen.

In reality the owners did not want me to know some of what I knew that was so damaging. One of my key hires I had placed in charge of the equipment and parts inventory requirement of the audit as well as the appraisal. He and the CPA had been working closely together, going to lots and tracking equipment and parts inventory. The CPA had warned me a month before that we would not like what we would find. It did not matter, the bank required it for the loan funds the owners were using for their expansion and they had signed the documents. It would be whatever it was and we would deal with it when we knew.

But that warning told me what I needed to know, the CPA was in on it. He had been their CPA for 18 years and the company was perhaps his largest client. This was confirmed when my guy reported his audit findings. We were both shocked. Well over a $1 million of equipment inventory and $200 K of parts inventory was missing. No documentation of what happened to it was found and it was not physically located on any of the company’s sites or rented to customers.

Two days later I was terminated along with my two handpicked employees. I had just turned 40 years old.

Picking Up The Pieces

After the sting wore off for being so dumb as to being blinded by the compensation package and taking a job without doing better due diligence, I called a long term friend who was in ownership and the CEO of a small business lending operation associated with a small bank holding company in a nearby city. He had asked me to work with him for many years and had even visited with me at the equipment company at which time I referred him to a business customer of mine from my previous banking position. I told him the sad story and asked him if his employment offer was still on the table. He asked when I could start, that he would have an offer letter to me the next day.

The position would be in business development and there would be commission attached with a modest salary. However, it would allow me to work from home and provided important medical and dental insurance with a 401-k. I could work my long term existing professionals referral network for customer financing requests on my own time. They expected no production out of me that first year and a reasonable amount annually thereafter.

Rock Star told me it did not matter to her if I worked on a garbage truck as long as we could get by. She said she would call a mortgage company owner she knew and work part time with him to make ends meet until I had my new line of work established. She would be home in time to pick up our daughter from school. We decided we could afford to go on a scheduled week of vacation to the beach before starting our jobs since we had already paid for the lodging. We needed time to reflect on our new situation and just breathe.

My next call was to my long term attorney to discuss what had happened and for him to review my employment contract with the equipment company. We needed to talk when I got back.

We enjoyed the vacation and discussed what we needed to do. Upon our return I went to my new employer’s offices to meet with HR and visit with all of the senior officers. I already knew what the job entailed, so I picked up my office supplies and headed home.

Early Success

Within the first few months I was able to originate and go on to close a large loan transaction with some former business customers that made my new employers very happy along with Rock Star when I handed her the commission. We could breathe a bit easier as I continued to build a book of business. It was not long until executive management asked me to attend a popular training series they used that was based off the best selling book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People that was written by Stephen Covey. I kissed the family goodbye and headed to conference center a couple of hours away for a few days of training.

Many of you may be familiar with this book and the training, or have at least heard of it. I decided that if the Lord wanted me to learn something, he would make it obvious as I needed to retool and rebuild my career in a way that honored Him. Which is exactly what happened. It was eye opening for even a middle aged business warrior. I left there thankful and began a daily process of building the seven habits into my life. It also inspired me to get back to more serious Bible study.

Everything seemed to be heading in the right direction. I enjoyed my new found freedom of working from home. Until a knock on my door one afternoon 363 days from my termination from the equipment company. The deputy sheriff at the door handed me papers. I had been sued by the equipment company in civil court for theft and embezzlement of company assets. Yup, the same people who stole from themselves and committed all sorts of criminal acts for cash, drugs and such; were accusing me of being the bad guy. I wasn’t even surprised they waited until the last days before the statute of limitations applied. Fortunately, I had addressed many of the potential repercussions with my attorney upon our return from the vacation. I had clearly learned that bunch was capable of anything.

Yet, this feeling of being their scapegoat overcame me.

Conclusion

Next time we will pick up it up from here as I continued the process of rebuilding my career, only to be knocked sideways by the legal community, law enforcement, FIB, DODGE and the judiciary. I learned first hand about thirty years ago what many are just now learning about those “industries”. Being innocent does not mean anything if they want to cause you pain.

My 40th year on the planet had started a chain of events. There’s something about that number.

What appeared to be a personal disaster to the world around me and the business community in which I had spent many years, in reality, had led me to the narrow gate that changed everything. Praise be to God!

Back In My Day: Civilized War – The NWO Cabal’s Weapon of FEAR; Plus Goober Gump Sighting

It is very hard to be concise on such a complex subject. So, please forgive the length of this story as it cannot be done well in two parts and BIMD will be on hold for a month or so through the holidays as I work on a family project.

As many of you know, there is a war of Biblical proportions underway, to quote the substance of Q, over America’s soul. Everything I have posted in BIMD’s past leads to this storyline and truth. There are many parallels of events and people that interconnect within my own sphere. Now multiply that by millions or more of others unrelated to mine. Examine your own and I am sure you will see them as well.

All have been arranged and managed by one Creator. Yet, even with the benefit of having truth and history to explore some still say there is no God. That position has far more faith involved than any believer in God will ever have.

This war is about the enemy using anything as a wedge to create disunity in a United States of America to achieve its destruction. Seeking truth has nothing to do with their efforts. In the words of Pontius Pilate, which represents the ancient Rome from whom they all descend figuratively and literally in some cases, “What is truth?”

So we will continue to explore “why” it is the way it is. If there was nothing to fear from America’s existence there would be very little conflict. Civilized war would not be underway. There would be no need to lie, manipulate, murder, steal and deny God’s imprint on this nation.

So let’s drill down.

On The Ground

As an example of the subtleties of engaging in the Civilized War, there are issues being decided without the general public being aware problems exist. To illustrate, in November in TN we passed a constitutional amendment that specifically outlaws any form of slavery despite an anti-slavery amendment in the federal constitution and all of the legal rulings and precedents on the state and federal level prohibiting it for over a century. The ballot measure stated that the language does not prohibit an inmate from working when the inmate has been duly convicted of a crime. Why was that amendment passage necessary? I promise you that question was on the lips of over 90% of the voters in this state. Yet it passed by a 4-1 margin anyway, partially because of the trust that has been built in our overall conservative state legislature and governor. Another reason is it simply reaffirmed constitutionally supported state law against slavery. However, those appeared to be overdone and unnecessary, like killing a fly with a sledgehammer. What was the real reason?

The answer is simple, but has far reaching implications. Slavery has many forms. Slavery by race is just one form and it left this nation a century and a half ago. The leftists in authority positions have obviously been setting the stage for claims of its existence with their refusal to prosecute crimes all over the country; which includes the crimes of illegal aliens, ANTIFA, BLM, etc. – who are their supporters and mercenaries. They have been setting up the lawfare type legal view that those prisoners convicted of crimes and sentenced to prisons are being enslaved if they are required to work while incarcerated. So it is a pretext for their immediate release. We also know that hard work by inmates serves as method to reduce internal prison conflicts and as a deterrent toward committing future crimes upon release. Now before you think I am talking out my azz on those later points, I am stating the observations of a retired Christian friend who has 25+ years of warden experience in two states and is supported by statistics in both states.

The passage of this amendment in TN removes that angle of attack constitutionally and in any other states that have the proper language in their Constitutions. The TN GOP has been paying attention. The action closed the door on using fear (and lies) to free the NWO cabal’s criminal lackeys, which is what they sought to introduce by associating the word “slavery” with those imprisoned for crimes.

We need to understand that the NWO cabal seeks to build their narratives and lies into the lexicon of the general public. Creating fear works to that end. Listen to the language that you, loved ones, co-workers, etc. use on daily basis. Are you hearing the words of the media, culture warriors and politicians in those discussions? Are you tired of their continuous lectures on what and how you should think and behave yet? Have your grown weary hearing about all of the “oppressed” groups of people, some of whom they claim deserve reparations?

As disheartening as it has been for patriots to observe and live through, the real enemy outs themselves throughout the process if we pay attention. The good news is that more people are waking up every day. As an example, per recent reports in even the fake news media only 13% of the population have chosen to be jabbed with the most recent COVID booster. Quite a change from the 70+% who got the first jabs. That being the case despite all the money spent by the government and Big Pharm promoting it. All of us who call things for what they are started calling them “the jab”, “the clot shot”, and so on. The words entered the every day lexicon of Americans and began reducing the fear related to not going along with the scam.

The battle with COVID and the jabs has been part of the spiritual, civilized war. They are connected. Trust government of man, or, trust the kingdom of God. Pick one. One is the blue pill, one is the red pill. Only one has truth to tell if you prefer The Matrix image.

Moral Decay and Collusion with the Enemy

The continuing Civilized War in America is over control of life; in particular, your right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It involves every aspect of life in America all at once. A full out assault on truth and good all of the time, every hour of every day. They entice people to willingly enter into lives of sin and moral decay. They intentionally undermine the economic system, strip people of property and legal rights as well as the ability to earn incomes sufficient to live the American Dream. They develop a new normal where crime is acceptable while tolerance of the immoral and unthinkable are virtues to be prized. Both political parties knew and have participated in it for decades. The proof is they did nothing to change it despite having the authority and tools to do so.

The Uniparty only does show pony justice when it comes to themselves. Present the image of administering penalties for crimes. However, they know their subterfuge will be over if PDT goes back in as #47. So just enough states keep lax voter ID laws, illegally loaded voter registration rolls, hackable electronic voting, and use illegal ballot harvesting to keep them in power. The fake news intentionally lies as directed. The swamp will trot out the hoaxes and scams du jour to see if they can strengthen their hold over the sheeple that they need for the diehard Democrat socialists and communists to stay in power as they have always done. All while the Establishment GOP sends forth the Pences, Haleys and Pompeos of the world as potential POTUS candidates they know can never earn the nomination, but hope can siphon off votes and interest in the general election to help their Uniparty Dem buds. They sit quietly on their hands with silent voices hoping none of it reduces their dividend checks from a monetary and economic system that is as fake as they are. They want the GOP base to be fractured because it will reduce PDT’s and MAGA’s chances. So they play their parts to make sure it stays that way.

Caving to Fear

Fear has enabled so many genocides in societies in this world over thousands of years. Will it enable genocide in ours? Excluding the Scamdemic genocide, if the genocide that has already occurred in America with unborn children is any indication, then we have our answer. That one issue has been an American litmus test for totalitarianism versus liberty and freedom. It should divide us. There is no unification possible when one group of people argue for and pursue laws that the mother should have the right to choose to murder her unborn child, not consult with the other sexual partner in the act that created the child, and then take the action with the assistance of medical professionals in a nation dedicated to God. It is scripturally impossible to justify as well as within many legal entanglements.

As proponents, they have needed to deny America was ever dedicated to God and build this belief into the national lexicon and psyche. Does that help explain the lies and false narratives about our nation’s founding? They have to twist the meaning and use the corrupted government and judicial system to support their efforts. The same system created for We the People that they have corrupted with our unwitting assistance by not paying attention and challenging their claims at every turn.

To accomplish their goals the NWO cabal made the case with the support of the corrupted Supreme Court that life does not begin at conception and states’ rights did not apply in conflict with the Constitution and rule of law – that are based on God’s principles and commands throughout as discussed in my previous installment.

The Supreme Court ruling in Roe v. Wade was a fraud and nothing was done to change it or to the justices ruling in its favor without having authority to do so. The Constitution is clear. If an issue is not addressed specifically in it, the issue is left to the individual states to determine. The Court’s fraudulent ruling led to a large percentage of approximately 60 million unborn children being brutally murdered a half century later. That’s genocide.

Yet, fear as a people kept us from taking steps through states’ rights to stopping a lot of the abortion genocide for half a century. Legal roadblocks were erected that caused fear of reprisals. For many it meant not wanting to offend others by opposing the legality of the issue openly; or to not risk the prospect of going to jail for protesting. Or politicians’ fear of losing federal tax dollars in state governments. For others it meant fear of losing relationships, jobs and being ostracized. For churches it meant congregational and denominational splits. Many felt hopeless as the Supreme Court was viewed as the final decision maker. They feared nothing could be done to change it.

They were wrong. Focus efforts here. How did this issue, this genocidal atrocity get reversed in states that have a conscience? Consider spending time thinking about how it was changed when the media and politicians repeatedly told the country for decades it was “settled law.”

To illustrate below is a trailer from the movie Lifemark that was released in 2022. I urge you to watch this movie that was inspired by a true story.

The abortion issue has been similar to not standing up against the removal of school prayer and deemphasizing patriotism in public schools. Accepting the old freedom “from” religion lie that was applied in opposition to the actual statement and intent in the Constitution keeps it alive. The recent Marriage Defense Act is yet another obvious destructive action taken by the NWO cabal that was Uniparty supported. Another open announcement on where they stand in relation to God and Satan that tramples on states’ rights as prescribed in the Constitution.

The NWO cabal clears the way for a drug culture through open borders that allow the cartels to operate with impunity, neocon wars of the moment to make money, sexual perversion and permissiveness, etc. All of which have undermined the foundations of society. In reality they are just other forms of slow, less obvious, and less detectable genocides that our current government leaders permit and even encourage. That once again, trample on states’ rights and the Constitution. Since when can undeclared wars be conducted without impunity? Since fear gained control.

Where do your elected officials in your states stand on these death provoking issues? Have you as an individual citizen asked them in writing?

Has it been worth it to fear? Why would it not divide a nation? It should in a nation that has a large segment of its people who believe life is good and a gift from God. We should be at extreme odds with those who push death and destruction.

When it comes to abortion, you either believe life begins at conception or not. There is no Switzerland on the issue. You either believe the life in the womb of a woman is a fetus, or, in the God-given reality that the life is a male or female human being. You are choosing love (and life) or fear (and death) with your choice. This is where Greta should focus her outrage…

Everything else is idle talk, just noise to deflect from truth and rationalize’s one’s decision. If you have made this choice of death and regret it, there is good news! The Lord provides a path for forgiveness and restoration. I pray you make that next choice to build or restore your relationship with the giver of all life.

Now take each cultural issue pushed by the NWO cabal to divide us and decide – life or death, love or fear. Then identify the proponents and opponents of each with authority to do something about it or strongly influence others. Those are your personal targets for prayer, communication and influence.

Personal Example

Please be clear about one thing. When the life of the mother is on the line and she is lying there bleeding out, save her life in accordance with her wishes. But do not kill the baby intentionally under a false pretext that it will save the mother’s life. There is a difference. Allow me the opportunity to give a personal example.

My wife’s first child from her previous marriage is alive and living a normal life today as a result of not making the choice to save one or the other as presented by her physician, who was also a Christian. However, well before the events of the actual day her child was born, my wife was given a choice to terminate the pregnancy due to many serious medical complications. It would have given many women an opportunity to opt out, however, despite her terrible marital situation she chose to have her baby if at all possible due to her Christian beliefs.

One day at 7.5 months into the pregnancy she began hemorrhaging badly and was rushed to the hospital. She and her father (the now ex-husband was not there) made the choice for the physician to try to save both despite the physician telling them to make a choice. You see that was the critical point. The physician predetermined that one was likely to die due to hemorrhaging, so she wanted to know which one she should focus her efforts on saving. It was a reasonable diagnosis given the situation and loss of blood. The choice of my wife and her father was to save both. There was no either or option to consider in their minds. They were at peace with none, one, or both dying in accordance with God’s will that life is sacred. Had my wife already been in a coma her father knew her choice long before the event. He would choose life and God’s will. Fear of death was not a material consideration. Of course death was not a desired outcome, however, being held in the hands of the Savior produces assurance that the outcome will go according to His plan.

At that point my wife slipped into a coma from the loss of blood. My future FIL sat in the waiting room and prayed to the Lord he loved, trusting in His will. The physician laid it all on the line to save both. She was amazed both lived and perhaps had her own faith and understanding strengthened. My rock star wife was cut wide open to get her child out quickly and the placenta removed. Then blood vessels, tissue and muscles were repaired while being given blood and her baby’s lungs suctioned. She lay in a coma for two days before waking up with her father holding her hand. He never left her side. Her daughter made great progress quickly and has lived a healthy life for 49+ years. My wife was told that she would never have any more children, that the risk would be too high. At age 24, she thought she was done with child bearing. She sensed she would not want any more by her ex-husband anyway. She never regretted making the decision for life and trusting God.

Fast forward 12 years later. The fraud of her first marriage had ended. She met Goober Gump at a graduate banking school over 400 miles from her home who had also ended the fraud of his first marriage. Two very different people in two very different situations who never had any previous connections at all. She had embarked on a quest to boost her career to help her financial situation as a single mom with the support of her wonderful, grandfatherly bank President who was more of a friend than a boss. It was a school that Goober had been on the waiting list to get in, who was notified he could attend two days before it started due to a cancellation. He felt fortunate to be admitted as he was restarting a planned business banking career that had been derailed by his ex’s uncompromising, selfish desires. Little did either know at the time that God had plans for good for both.

Each arrived at school and met the next day in classes that would last for a week. Each knew almost immediately that something had clicked. The week went by quickly before they headed their separate ways back to their homes, jobs and lives. However, they continued to talk over the phone frequently getting to know more about each other. A few weeks later Goober paid a visit to her over a weekend and it was all over. They knew immediately. A year later they married.

Through the years every time the following songs came on the radio they would bring smiles to their faces as they thought about the time they first met in Memphis.

https://youtu.be/D1OVMyJbJwE

https://youtu.be/PgRafRp-P-o

Rock star’s and this guy’s earlier separate, quiet prayers in solitude 500 miles away from each other for peace and a loving loyal partner for life at some point had led to this. I had no reservations marrying the woman of my dreams knowing that she could not have children. I was happy to help raise my step daughter and enjoy our lives together.

One day we both came home from work and as we were preparing dinner, she asked me to sit and talk with her for a minute. Unbeknownst to me she had been to see her long time OB/GYN who had delivered her daughter, who was no longer doing obstetrics. My wife inquired of her about the prospects of having another child. Her physician referred her to the top practice in the area that specialized in high risk pregnancies.

She had taken a morning off from work and gone without my knowledge. She saw one of three OB/GYN’s in the practice and he examined her. He told her he thought she had healed well enough through the years to have another child if done as a Caesarian with the cut in her abdomen made in the same manner as her first. That led to rock star telling me that evening that nothing would make her happier than to have my child. My first reaction was that I did not want to risk losing her if there was any chance that something could go wrong. She assured me that she and the physician were good with it and did not foresee anything that would prevent it all from going well. We committed it all to the Lord. If it was to happen, He would make it happen.

My wife’s pregnancy and delivery of our 6 lb. 2 oz baby girl back in our day went perfect. Wifey said that during the pregnancy she had never felt so good in all of her life. I cannot count the number of late night runs to Shoney’s for the breakfast bar we made. 😂 To hear our daughter’s cry as I stroked my wife’s head in the delivery room was a God moment I will never forget. Miracle.

To cut to the chase and as a result some 36 years later, many of you have been involved and made a positive impact in the life of our oldest grandson. You are a part of our story.

But it would never have happened if fear had ruled any of us at any point from the delivery of her first child on throughout life. None of it would have turned out the same had that same man with PTSD who had endured 15 months of living Hell in a Nazi prison camp in WW II had not stepped into the gap for his daughter. Fear could have kept us in failed marriages or with a strong reluctance to take a chance on love again. After what she had lived through with the first pregnancy, nobody would have ever questioned her fear of ever trying that again.

Fear. For the Christian there is no other way than the courageous freedom that exists under God’s dominion. Victory comes from conquering fear with love.

The Rest of the Story

Being Goober Gump means stuff just happens at times. Just dunno. During the course of going to doc appointments when wifey was pregnant with our daughter, she saw all three of the practice physicians. Her favorite, of course, was the good looking one. All women are the same. 😀 My favorite was the stout guy with the big sense of humor. Then there was the older one; highly intelligent, competent and experienced, who had a dour military attitude. He was unrivaled as a skilled surgeon per the area’s medical community. His attitude was probably because he was a retired surgeon of the Air Force.

You probably can guess where this observation is headed. That former military surgeon and chief of staff of the base hospital was assigned to the same SAC Air Force base near the same small town I lived in Arkansas in the same time period I lived there. We probably saw each other in stores and restaurants without having a clue who each other was. He retired from military service a few years before I left and accepted a position in a practice in Knoxville, earning his OB/GYN credentials in the process. He and the other two formed the new practice a couple of years before my wife had her appointment. As it turned out the AF surgeon who had replaced him at the base, was a personal friend of mine as his father was my district manager and mentor in my employment. During a medical appointment we figured out our common connections and his dour attitude turned to one of joy as we shared with each other. As God sometimes arranges things, he was the one on call at our hospital of choice, St. Mary’s, the evening wifey’s water broke. He worked hard and well to make sure it all went as it should and we will be forever grateful. He even allowed me to film a tasteful video of the delivery with a curtain protecting the actual bloody view. A video that included a paramedic in training who watched the procedure from the foot of the operating table, who completely passed out during the surgical part. 🤣 He came by wifey’s room later and apologized. He said they were going to make him watch another Caesarian without passing out before they would let him pass his course.

And Goober, once again, learned just how much God loved him and his loved ones. Humbled to my knees again.

A few years later we were talking with Pat and RB Summitt at church about how wifey’s pregnancy went as an older mother as Pat had just found out she was pregnant with Tyler. She wanted some insights from another mother at a similar older age. Her high risk OB/GYN’s office was located down the hall from wifey’s at the same hospital. Her physician was a bank customer of mine. Her pregnancy went just like rock star’s even if her marriage did not later on.

That older hospital was one of four in Knoxville at that time. As things go again, it was the same hospital that my Mamaw chose to use over 65 years before with her pregnancies and health issues through the years. The circle of life had been completed with 4 generations of my family. The hospital was later sold and closed at that location in recent years. Only for the land and facilities to be recently purchased and renovated beautifully to house…

Lincoln Memorial University’s new College of Dental Medicine.

https://youtu.be/FsSuolvBvwM

Yeah, there’s that Goober thing again. Hi, Pete, thank you from all of us hillbillies. Teach them well, Otto. My best regards to both of you. We the People will be the winners from your efforts.

Choose This Day…

Have you noticed that life goes on and many good things happen when you are not paralyzed by fear? It does not mean you stop doing things to prevent evil. It just means to live life within God’s dominion and trust in His provision.

We can stop the genocides in whatever form they exist. Simply choose love over fear. Choose God and His ways and will. When you spot evil and destruction in play; call it out, go to work against it and do not fear. Let Him guide your path. Even if persecuted you will have peace, just like Paul as he wrote to the early churches from prison.

Joshua was born a slave in Egypt. He was in the group that Moses led that left during the Exodus. He saw the mighty power of God with the Red Sea parting. He became a personal assistant to Moses. It was Moses who gave Hosea son of Nun his name. Joshua means “the Lord is salvation” or “Yahweh saves” in Hebrew. The name was a reminder to all that their future victories would be accomplished by God, who would be fighting the battles for them.

Joshua was one of the twelve spies sent into Canaan and one of the two along with Caleb who told Moses they could take them. Because of the fear of the other ten spies infecting the people, God was angered and sentenced all of them to wander 40 years in the wilderness. It should be no surprise that of the 12 spies, only Joshua and Caleb survived during those 40 years. They still had to go through it even though they were faithful. This is a recurring theme for the faithful. Even Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane for release from what was to come, yet wanted The Father’s will to be done. He still had to go through it.

Upon Moses’ death, it was Joshua who was chosen to lead the people. It was Joshua who led the battles and conquests that took control of The Promised Land. A deeper study of Joshua reveals much depth. He even sent spies into Jericho who were assisted by Rahab the prostitute in its conquest. At every juncture Joshua trusted God and did as he was instructed. He is viewed as a foreshadowing of the coming Messiah, Jesus Christ, whose lineage extends through that same Rahab.

Obviously, 40 years before Joshua’s time came to lead, God knew it was not yet time for him to do what he was to do on behalf of the kingdom. Obviously as well, it was time 40 years later as we look back on what transpired. God’s timing is perfect.

Rahab and her family were the only people or animals left alive in Jericho due to her faithfulness and service to God and Israel. This young gentile woman was accepted, honored and married into the royal family of Judah, and is in the lineage from which our Jesus came. Fear of the evil people around her did not stop her from doing what she willingly felt she needed to do by sheltering the spies at great risk to herself and family. In return she was saved with her family and became an integral part of the kingdom of God with special praise of her acts in His Holy Word as an example to all of us who follow.

Despite terribly difficult circumstances that would strain any person’s faith, fear was not in Joshua’s vocabulary as he trusted God and His provision for the people. Fear did not prevent Rahab from helping either. Which leads to…

Joshua 24:15.

If it is disagreeable in your sight to serve the Lord, choose for yourselves today whom you will serve: whether the gods which your fathers served which were beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

We still have to go through it and remain faithful.

This is the path to regaining our freedom and fulfilling the promise of America that was acknowledged by God at our nation’s dedication. Collectively choose love over fear and trust God as we go about doing what is right in His sight. It took 50 years for Roe v. Wade to be overturned. It took 40 years in the wilderness for the faithful people of Israel to enter into the Promised Land. Those and other events tell us it may take time and will take the will of God for great things to happen in America. Our task is to be as Joshua and Rahab – trust God, be faithful and respond when He calls our number.

Next Up

I will return to personal stories that blend into examples of the Civilized War that continues to rage. It will be time to bring other Goober Gump adventures into periods you may remember and weave in the primary points of our nation’s calling. It even leads to Wall Street and to the halls of Congress.

However, I will be taking a break through the holidays as Rock Star wants me to begin the work of writing our story, as I have with both sets of parents, as a gift of love to our descendants. Whatever Rock Star wants, Rock Star gets! Have a Blessed and Merry Christmas!

Lefty’s View of WWII, by Wild Bill

OK, straight up apologies, Dear Q-Treepers & Friends, for this likely stream of consciousness post very loosely inspired from our dear Daughn’s nostalgic posts. This is going to veer about in personal family history domains so is meant as a bit of a slice of Americana…

Detroit’s skyline as viewed from the Ambassador Bridge

Grandpa S. came to stay with us at some point for an extended stay while I still lived in my parents’ home. I think it was after my grandma had died but before I went away to college. Grandpa had been sick and so lived with us for a season as he regained his health & his strength. There were times he’d watch Price is Right with my brothers & I & encourage us to make guesses on the various games, which we all thoroughly enjoyed.

Grandpa was a bit of a gruff man having grown up in the Motor City & having a Northwoods lumberjack for a father. He was a self-made man of limited education, never having finished high school. An avid outdoorsman and good with his hands he knew how to work hard and he was respected and even loved by many people from practically all walks of life. He had deep practical wisdom & was even flexible in his lifestyle deciding to take up new hobbies as a widower, like candle AND candy making. He had a zest for life & perpetual twinkle in his eye!

Ty Cobb in 1913 in Detroit, the era when he let Grandpa & other kids into the ballpark by the back fence to watch the games for free!

Well one day while he was staying with us the phone rang unexpectedly. Being the oldest kid it fell to me to answer the call, as my parents weren’t home at the time. Some gravelly male voice on the other end of the phone was looking for a “Lefty” & I was concerned. The only “lefty” I could imagine would be some fictional gangster or ne’er-do-well. Anyway with tremulous voice I mentioned to Grandpa that someone was looking for “Lefty”. He snatched the phone from my hand & bellowed out in his own testosterone truncated tongue “Lefty here!” I was beyond flabbergasted, My Grandpa Was Lefty!!!

Obviously this was a pretty basic nickname for a man who was left-handed, especially growing up in an era when being left-handed was a “sinister” condition. Both he, my dad’s dad, AND my mom’s mom, were left-handed & suffered the indignities that went along with being different & the punishments typically meted out for errant usage of the “wrong” hand in those bygone days. Both of these grandparents had less than beautiful handwriting but were surely more ambidextrous than most. My youngest brother is also blessed with this left-handedness & it definitely contributed to some of his sporting successes, especially his ability to be a switch-hitter on his high-school baseball team! I think he was also more competent with both feet as a soccer player than were most teammates too.

Grandpa had been a pretty poor student during his formal education. In fact, after his death, when my parents were going through his things they discovered a lone report card saved from nearly 8 decades before. Apparently this “all S” card was the best he ever did. That was based on a grading system of U=Unsatisfactory, S=Satisfactory, & E=Excellent, I believe. Basically grandpa got the equivalent of an all-C, straight average report card & that was the treasure of the ages. How easily did the high marks of so many in our family line become blasé. We didn’t really understand what it was to suffer ridicule for poor marks, well most of us didn’t…

My dad is going over my post with me & said that on Grandpa’s report card there were 12 things to be graded on per marking. In the 1st card marking he got 4 S’s & the rest U’s. 2nd marking was 8 or 9 S’s the rest U’s. The final card marking he got all 12 S’s. My grandpa wrote on that report card “Best report card I ever had” & saved it all those years. Neither my dad nor his sister knew about that card before grandpa’s death.

Not Grandpa’s report card, but one from the era when he first attended school

Grandpa did throw things away, including stock certificates for companies that went belly up during the Depression, per my dad. He provided for his family during his lifetime & had less than $1,000 to his name when he died…& a new car that he called “my second to last car”. My brother got that late ’80’s Tempo after Grandpa’s passing.

Now according to my dad his dad had one of his grade school teachers as a regular customer at his gas station & garage in the heart of Detroit. Some three decades after she taught him she would berate him with “see I knew you’d never amount to anything” when she came to fill up or get some car service from him or his employees. Imagine being dogged like that as a self-made business man, yet Grandpa didn’t stint on the service in spite of the disrespect.

In fact dad is quite sure that Grandpa accepted Scrip during the war years, and my other grandpa, being a teacher, was paid in scrip too. It is quite likely that Grandpa S’s cruel elementary teacher paid in scrip AND much of that payment never was converted to Actual Money (I don’t know all the social reasons for that) so Grandpa took care of that teacher’s material needs even as she maligned his interpersonal & self-esteem ones. He truly was the bigger man.

Not my Grandpa’s gas station, but his brand in his era

When looking for possible images of Grandpa’s old Sunoco gas station at Junction & Toledo in Detroit I ran across this nostalgic discussion of old Detroit area gas stations.

https://www.atdetroit.net/forum/messages/6790/93948.html?1226175627

During the Second World War, at some point rationing was on. This meant that even in the Motor City it was hard to get what one needed to maintain functional transportation for the masses. Dad said that Grandpa had an old vulcanizing machine, that could be used to patch tires, and that his dad practically single-handedly kept Detroit on wheels! If he could have brought that machine with him to Northern Michigan when he retired it should have ended up in a museum, how significant was it’s contribution to keeping Detroit moving!

1945 Ration Book from the region, this example from Illinois

Speaking of Northern Michigan let’s segue a bit. My Grandpa’s dad had grown into manhood in the Northern Michigan lumbering industry, though he himself was a mid-Michigan farm boy. He left home, possibly even before his teen years to work in lumbering. He drove the horse-drawn wagons, worked as a lumberjack, and later was some type of foreman.

The company he worked for was owned by a Mr. Lowrey and at one point Lowrey’s son made his way into the woods to get his lumbering chops with the working guys. Apparently the lumberjacks were a pretty rough group of customers & Great-Grandpa took the boss’s son under his wing, showed him the ropes, AND protected him from the brutish thugs. This was noticed by the boss so later on when operations were moved South into Detroit Great-Grandpa was invited to come along and manage the lumber yard. That’s what he did for the rest of his working life. AND that is how that side of my family came to Detroit, right about 1900!

Logging in Michigan, 1890’s, when my Great Grandpa was still working in the Northern Michigan woods

Apparently Great Grandpa S. was a pretty tough customer too. He was tall, over 6 feet, with a fairly slender build. Even so, he was incredibly strong. One time Grandpa, as a young man, or even teen, had occasion to do some work at his dad’s lumber yard. There were train cars to be loaded or unloaded of 50 pound bags of cement, I believe. Grandpa would carry a bag in each hand & fling them in a smooth motion up to stack even over his head. Dad said that his father had very strong hands & even used to play handball at the Y in Detroit. Anyway G observed GG breaking up a fight amongst some unrulies in the lumber yard. When they wouldn’t stop the fight Great Grandpa stepped in & with One Blow Each felled each man. My grandpa was in shock that his dad could or would do that, this was someone not to mess around with!

Ironically my dad & his friends also experienced Grandpa’s physical & character strength for themselves. There was a time in their teen years that dad & his buddies took out the family car joy riding, over 50 miles of driving without ever leaving the Detroit city limits. Apparently Dad didn’t think to put more gas in the car so the next day as Grandpa was headed into work at His gas station, he ran out of gas. Grandpa somehow got a hold of Dad’s buddy & lifted him one handed off the floor & stuck him to the wall. What happened to Dad during that timeframe has always been rather murkily glossed over. I know my dad inherited this skill set for I once witnessed him lift up one of my brother’s cocky little friends up off the floor & stick him to the wall, though he used 2 hands in this surprising intervention on the now more subdued teen!

So we’ve had Michigan’s North Woods in our blood for a number of generations. Now fortunately my Grandpa S. married my grandma, the daughter of a railroad engineer–both of her parents were children of immigrants from the British Isles. Grandma’s dad had a fairly cushy job that he’d worked into on the Michigan Central Railroad. One of the perks of working for the railroad was getting the family to ride the rails, for free, I believe. Grandma’s family used to regularly travel Up North and enjoy Summer vacations in Michigan’s beautiful North Country, far from their native Detroit.

Historic Arbutus Beach, on Otsego Lake, MI in the era when my grandma’s family vacationed there

Eventually Grandma’s parents settled on a small community in Gaylord and bought a Cottage, being the first such building in the newly platted resort community of Arbutus Beach, along the beautiful sandy shore of Otsego Lake. Nearly all of Grandma’s siblings and many cousins ultimately obtained cottages in that community. My grandparents married in the late 1920’s and somehow acquired one of the existing Cottages in Arbutus Beach, as its second owners. My dad & his sister, along with their mother, spent virtually Every Summer of their childhood in that Northern Michigan paradise. Surrounded by family & friends they’d leave Detroit the day after school let out & only head home the day before school started in the Fall. Grandpa would join them for both journeys, I think because there was only one car. Grandma & the kids either caught the train to/from town or perhaps bummed rides from relatives with transportation.

How my great grandparents moved their cottage to Arbutus Beach, details here: https://specialconnections.wordpress.com/2017/06/29/josiahs-story-about-the-4th-of-july/

Now that same Cottage ended up becoming my grandparents’ retirement home, somewhat unexpectedly. Up until the Race Riot era of the late ’60’s both sets of my grandparents expected to live in their Detroit homes for the remainder of their natural lives. However during that season of social upheaval block-busting real estate agents put the pressure on & ultimately both sets of grandparents winterized Summer cottages to become their then retirement homes.

The simpler times of my dad’s youth saw Otsego Lake rarely shackled, as it is now, by excessive docks or boats

The Gaylord Cottage would figure largely in my own life too. When my new husband & I decided to come to Michigan–we had met & married in Oklahoma, though I was a child of the Motor City–we ended up living temporarily in The Cottage that was now in my parents’ possession after Grandpa’s death about a half decade previously. Michael & I lived in The Cottage as newly weds AND as new parents. Our first child, Nathaniel was born while we lived in The Cottage (his height is marked on the 4 generation height-recording doorjambs between the dining & living rooms at just One Day Old!) & was gifted the nickname “The Jack-Pine Savage” because of this northern naissance. In fact I believe our son is the Only family member in 6 generations of our extended family associated with this Northern Michigan community who was born in Gaylord, though several have died there. Though our twins were born while we still lived in that community–we had bought our own house in town by that time–they were in fact born downstate because of the high-risk nature of that pregnancy & their anticipated medical needs…

If you’d like to see a Newspaper article from back when Michael & I and the Boys lived in Gaylord in the 1990’s check it out here, on pages 1, 4, & 5:

http://207.74.70.101:8080/docushare/dsweb/Get/Document-6631/1996-11-07%20Thu%20Building%20Familes.pdf

Anyway, at one point when Michael & I were moving into The Cottage we boxed up some things to make room for some of our belongings. One day we were going through some old kids books and discovered some doodlings & writings by my dad. Apparently Dad had fancied himself some type of cowboy AND given himself the moniker Wild Bill! I absolutely Loved It!!!

Whenever watching that perennial classic A Christmas Story, I can imagine my dad as a lad in the 1940’s into the ’50’s with his admiration for all things cowboy & his gun prowess. I’m pretty sure that he was Up North when practicing targeting some strategic mushrooms on top of a log. However, unlike Steve’s important Saturday reminders, he forgot to notice what was Behind his target. So successfully hitting mushrooms with his BB gun sometimes meant tagging one of his playmates inadvertently as the projectiles maintained their forward trajectory. Simpler times…

Boy with gun in the 1950’s, not my dad but similar to his era

It’s impossible to anticipate what type of gems one might unearth in an old family home! Years ago there was a major garage cleaning undertaken by 3 generations of the family. At one point an old scorched ironing board cover, complete with it’s “scorchless” packaging was unearthed. After much conversation it was returned to the archeological dig to be unearthed years, or perhaps generations from now, so the joy & consternation at our family ways can continue!

Saving that old ironing board cover reminded Dad about his mom’s dad, the railroad engineer. Apparently Great-Grandpa T. used to collect stamps. He would meticulously organize them into small piles and tie them together with small pieces of string & place them strategically in old cigar boxes. Well he kept some container labeled “String Too Short To Save” for this stamp-corralling work, apparently because that was about all such short lengths of string were good for! If you knew how much my packratedness AND that of some other family members has tormented those who are more comfortable with much less physical (& other) baggage, you would recognized that “String Too Short To Save” isn’t always a badge of honor here!

Several books had similar titles, so this metaphor goes well beyond just our family perspective & experience–yikes!

So back to Lefty AND World War II. Dad & his sister have some direct memories of the war years, though they were still Very Young when it ended. Apparently they kept a pail of pure sand in the attic in case the house were ever bombed or hit with incendiary devices. They employed blackout curtains. Grandpa was sometimes involved in some type of neighborhood patrol, well Dad says that actually the next-door neighbor Mr. Bush was the Warden, who’d knock on your door if any light showed through the blackout curtains. They sounded an air raid siren for a drill in getting into blackout conditions & the Warden would patrol the neighborhood looking for any errant lights during that drill. Ration Books were in play & plenty of food was hard to get. Street Signs were removed to prevent the enemy, should he land on our shores, from easily navigating these foreign roads. And of course rationing meant deprivations in many arenas.

One place of deprivation was in the use of gasoline. Even Grandpa, who owned his own gas station business, could not get extra gasoline. That meant that when hunting season rolled around he wouldn’t be able to head Up North to the Hunting Shack to do the traditional annual deer hunting pilgrimage, or wouldn’t he? Actually he had some cousins who were farmers and apparently the government wasn’t rationing their access to gas in Any Way. So some of these cousins arranged to leave cans of gas strategically along the side of the road, hidden in the ditch, so Grandpa could gas up sufficiently to make it to his war-time limited hunting camp!

teaser historic post card from Luzerne, MI our guys rarely see this many deer in the region nowadays

By the way, how The Shack came into the family is a bit of an interesting tale too. Grandpa, his cousin, uncle, & some friends used to hunt the state or federal lands adjacent to a farmer’s land Up North. They’d done this for some years in a remote area in Oscoda County near the Very Small Town of Luzerne. Many times these hunters had begged the farmer to sell them a small amount of land so they could put up more permanent hunting camps than their tent-based camps of yesteryear. One time they invited the farmer to join them for a meal in the large dining tent. Their camp stove gave off a spark that ignited that tent AND it completely burned before they could un-stake all the ropes & drop the canvas to the ground. The farmer decided it was no way to live so relented & sold them One Acre, which was subdivided into 2 plots & 2 hunting shacks were built there, both still standing.

The shack across the street used to have a custom-made wood burned sign (recently stolen) claiming “Piscopalian Valley”, which is what our original hunters used to call the area since the piss would go in the pail before the hunting shacks AND outhouses were put in. In fact Grandpa’s uncle Will was known as “the Mayor of Piscopalian Valley” since he would make the rounds of the many nearby hunting camps AND the “blue horse trail” camp (the blue horse trail marks an equestrian path that traverses the fingers of Michigan’s Mitten–no NOT that Mitt!–from Lake Michigan to Lake Huron and makes navigating “our” hunting zone much more interesting) & pick up all the news of the hunt & the community–what a rich history abounded there & many tales live on!

Blue Horse Trail near Luzerne passes through the family hunting grounds

Speaking of news AND WWII the way Lefty learned about the end of the war was pretty amazing. Now I don’t ever recall hearing my grandpa tell this story, but Wild Bill has good recall of it. Apparently as The War was waning Grandpa went on an extended hunting or fishing adventure in the wilds of Canada, dad said that it was a fishing trip. He was walking along a portage trail in the woods & came across a carving on a tree trunk declaring the date & time of the end of the war in Europe AND he ran across this within two hours of someone carving it, literally out in the middle of nowhere! What an amazing world!

If only that WWII was the war to end all wars & love reigned supreme

Boy were our forbears hearty & blessed people. We are blessed to carry their blood in our veins & some of their quirkiness in our behaviors & of course some of their personality & physical traits in our beings, as they continue to live on, in a manner of speaking, in & through us.

From C.S. Lewis in his Chronicles of Narnia, as recounted here: https://silo.pub/pocket-companion-to-narnia-a-guide-to-the-magical-world-of-cs-lewis.html. HONOR — To seek honor in obedience and to behave honorably may be said to be one deﬁnition of a true Narnian. In PC [Prince Caspian]15, Caspian is ashamed that he comes of such a dishonorable (Telmarine) lineage. Aslan replies, “You come of the Lord Adam and Lady Eve. And that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar and shame enough to bow the heads and shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content.”

Veteran’s Day Addendum

Honoring our warriors, especially on Veteran’s Day!

We all owe so much to the many who have made tremendous sacrifices to fight for & ensure ongoing degrees of freedom for their fellow man. The complexity of the tapestry of lives, lifestyles, & social & family dynamics can never fully be done justice. So many different ways our warriors & their families & friends have laid down their lives for the family of man. Thank you!

I come from a family without direct modern experience in military service & warfare. However I know of numerous serviceman in the extended family who answered the call. This listing is to honor their service & sacrifice & that of so many others who have stood in the gap on freedom’s and our nation’s behalf.

Orringh Stoddard, Captain Massachusetts Line, Revolutionary War
Husband Michael’s Hagerman ancestor, United Empire Loyalist
Friedrich Bluemle, Mom’s birth great grandfather, compulsory German military service before immigrating to America mid 1800’s
Michael’s relations, both sides service Civil War, fractured family & fractured nation
William E. Curren, US Army Signal Corp, late 1800’s
Clarence E. Curren, Virginia Ship Building Co., WWI Navy
Patrick L., Husband’s father’s uncle, WWII Nave Sea Bee, construction battalion
Verner R. Shoup, Hubby’s grandfather & son of CO governor Oliver H. Shoup, WWI Army
David O. M., Mom’s birth grandfather, WWI Army
Robert D. M., Mom’s birth father, WWII Marine, action in Tarawa & beyond
Avis B. B., Mom’s birth mother, WAC WWII, service in Alaska & beyond
Thurman T., Grandma’s brother, WWII, machinist, Manhattan Project
Hugh T., Grandma’s brother-in-law, WWII Army medical doctor
Maynard K., Mom’s brother, Korea-era Naval service, injured medical discharge
Zachary S., my nephew, Marine in modern service

My ancestor Orringh Stoddard’s letter February 3, 1780 preserved in George Washington’s papers, https://www.loc.gov/resource/mgw4.064_0179_0180/

May the Lord continue to equip us all with the tools we need to keep fighting the good fight!

Vignette of my Uncle Hugh’s military service, from his obituary “Dr. Thompson was a US veteran, serving with the US Medical Corps for three and a half years. He was captain of the 32nd Field Hospital in Italy. After VE Day, he was sent to the Philippines and Japan.” He moved his wife & kids into their Northern Michigan cottage while he was overseas during WWII, being concerned for their safety had they remained in their Detroit home during his extended absence. Service & Sacrifice!

http://otsego.advantage-preservation.com/viewer/?k=hugh%20thompson&i=f&d=01011903-12312013&m=between&ord=k1&fn=herald_times_usa_michigan_gaylord_19911024_english_23&df=1&dt=10&cid=2955 has further details on Dr. Hugh Thompson’s career & photos.

Back In My Day: Arkansas Field of Dreams – Grooming

I was a pig being led to a slaughter by a trail of crumbs from the table of the butchers. I had not yet become a hog in Razorback country, which is when the slaughter would occur.

This is figuratively where we left the last Arkansas Field of Dreams BIMD. With this one we will drill down a bit more with some fun parallels and teasers near the end.

Being led to the slaughter seems like a bold statement to make by a person still on this planet four decades later, right? I am still here and later in life rebounded beyond my greatest hopes and dreams because of the love of Jesus Christ. If you choose to read on, as the story is unpacked over the next few parts you will know why I make that statement. You will also see why I know God has a sense of humor. The parallels and crossing of paths just become ridiculous. There are no coincidences.

I struggled with understanding who I was in the grand scheme of things even after accepting Jesus as my Savior at age 12. I fell from grace a lot then and still do. I am a sinner made a saint by the sacrifice of Christ, period. I have nothing to offer worthy of His sacrifice other that my best efforts to share the good news that is Jesus. When I fully accepted that great truth as a middle aged man, everything changed. I mean everything. He owns my heart and life even if I still want to do my own thing at times. I want everybody to experience that great joy and contentment in the soul.

As a child and young man I saw my family become a severely dysfunctional mess as Freemasonry, Eastern Star, horoscope, astrology, seances with the dead, adultery, alcoholism, heated arguments, physical and emotional abuse, and much more were played out before my eyes, body and mind. All of it while struggling to make sense of friends being wounded and dying in a foreign war that had no purpose for protecting America after having experienced as a kid the assassinations of our POTUS and his AG brother. Add threats of atomic bombs falling while we hid under desks at school combined with illegal drug use entering the average American community. There was even a high school football teammate who was brutally sodomized by an adult pervert (Jerry Sandusky comes to mind), a high school aged female friend of our family literally torn in two in a motorcycle accident and racial riots/violence in a nearby city. Even my best friend in junior high school’s father died of a massive heart attack in front of him. When I look back on it, maybe it wasn’t all that great of time to be alive. Pass the bong.

In high school I fell into the trap of under aged drinking, staying out late, chasing girls and other teenage mischief. Church had left our thought process as a family. I desperately wanted out of there, so college was my ticket. The only immediate family member I still had a modicum of respect for, my deeply flawed father, said to leave and get as far away as I could. So I did. As I posted, I accepted that scholarship offer and headed to Arkansas with no knowledge of how the school even knew I existed. I took it as a my sign that it was time to escape.

The Reality

From the moment I arrived on campus, I was free and also alone. But the truth was I always felt alone even with family and my friends. This set me up to be influenced by others easily. When you have no direction, no wisdom to guide you, no mentor; it is easy to be led astray, to go and do what you never dreamed possible you would go and do.

Which made me a target in college after being a target in high school.

Once I arrived and enrolled at college I found the school picked out student athletes with good academics in smaller communities around the south and mid-west as part of an attempt to increase the school’s academic and athletics successes as well as attract talent that they could manipulate to work in the state after graduation. Simply put, they wanted to upgrade the workforce and enhance the reputation and standing of the state to make money and gain power for themselves. They offered scholarships just like I received to entice. As an example a guy from a nearby town in Ohio to where I grew up received a similar scholarship offer for track as I had for baseball. We had never heard of each other before our arrival. He had the good grades, ACT score and some success in his long distance running speciality. He was from a poor working class family like me. He received that offer out of the blue as I had, never having set foot in Arkansas his entire life. He would be over 500 miles from home as well. After meeting each other at school, we commuted back and forth to Ohio through our sophomore years after I was able to buy an old Chevy beater with earnings from a summer job after my freshman year. He transferred to a college back home after that, it was just too much of a culture shock for him. I stupidly soldiered onward.

Opportunities for a social life on campus for out of state students consisted of fraternities and sororities with precious little else in that rural area in a dry county. Go Greek or sit in your dorm or apartment and watch TV on weekends while everybody else partied or went home. It was against my nature to go Greek, but I did to have something to do for a couple of years. So I stayed on campus during the ensuing summers. I found part time jobs to make enough money to live and continued the party time year round, Animal House style.

Remember “streaking”? There was this time the Dean came by, oh… never mind. One of the few events I did not participate in.

It was like a moth to the flame for guys and gals like me. Very little money, out of our element, opportunity to have fun and meet people, and so on. I “floundered” for a time, only to eventually grow up and get it together for the last few semesters.

Those that followed their academic path to successful conclusion of graduating would then be recruited based on their collegiate performance into business and government roles in the state. It was the 70’s, post Vietnam and not the best of times to find gainful employment. So, having direct access to jobs was a big deal. Just follow the path laid before you.

I think you can spot by now that “grooming” was a thing.

My more productive collegiate activities led to meeting alumni, employers and future job opportunities. It led to meeting a society elite sorority gal from a wealthy Democrat benefactor family from the area that I married immediately after graduation. Which led me to the state capital of Little Rock after the professor gave his reference to my future employer and the bank psychologist blessed my hiring.

All of that led me to work for a wealthy attorney banker whose physician father had moved from Chitcago with his family to the state like other well known figures who moved there during those days including Hildabeast. In fact, the Dem operatives were generally either from Chitcago or connected to powerful people there as well as being from St. Louis. There was also an element of New York City/Wall Street influences to go with the Teddy Kennedy family and their sphere of influence linked into it all. All in a backwoods state that fought Mississippi for the bottom for the worst economic opportunities and quality of life in the nation year after year.

That same professor who provided the reference left the university a few years later to be a banker in the local bank that the attorney banker also owned. He had even mentioned to me during my interview and hiring process that he would love to work for the man in one of his banks. You got your wish, Bo. Funny dat.

After settling in at the bank and in Little Rock I witnessed the parade of business leaders and politicians to the bank’s executive dining room that was operated by the former executive assistant of the attorney banker. I had reason to be there as they were “grooming” me into business development in Little Rock to later be the lobbyist, cleaner and arranger for state affairs while the previously discussed Paul Berry handled national affairs and the big dogs. My initial charge was to call on and occasionally bring customers and targeted prospects to the dining room to discuss banking business over lunch. It would impress many as frequently they would see the Senators, Governor, House Reps, AGs, other state officials, etc. having business lunch meetings there as well. It became routine to me, part of the expectations of the role. Did I tell you I barely made enough to pay our bills? Prestige and a title without pay – the banking way during those days.

Prior to that point and during the management training program process, I had worked in a good number of departments in the bank over a seven month period. One of the other trainees hired with me did likewise, they just never let us work together. The third trainee was let go one week after hiring as he simply could not handle it. So the other trainee that I liked a lot, Mike, and I would compare notes from time to time over lunch or after work at dinner as we tried to better understand what we saw. For example, for a month I was assigned to work in the dreaded Collections Department. If they projected you might be assigned a role to make loans one day, they wanted you to see first hand what it was like to collect past due accounts. That is unless it was a political operative or elected official. I was told specifically which ones to ignore and to not contact them if on the past due spreadsheet and contact reporting cards. OK… Being the curious type, even after I was moved to other departments and received my officer role, I made it a point to check out the report periodically to see what happened with those loans that were always past due. The state legislators who were past due were kept on the books as perpetual “evergreen” loans where interest only was paid and the note renewed dozens of times. The other more prominent officials’ loans went POOF. They would disappear at various points and since computers were just being introduced into banking, it seemed easy to “lose” accounts and transactions. They never showed up on the charge-off report. It was “magic”…

At the time I was assigned my initial business development role, Mike was assigned a Correspondent Banking officer role. His department related to being bankers for other banks. To keep it simple for this story, banks have a system of maintaining funds in other banks as required by the Federal Reserve, FDIC and state regulators. They can lend and borrow funds from each other to maintain regulatory compliance. In addition the referenced department frequently makes loans to principals in other banks or on their behalf, especially if the end borrowers are at their legal lending limits with the originating banks. The whole thing keeps the banking system theoretically liquid along with the use of many other financial instruments and transactions. It is deceptively designed to give the appearance of everything being above board with no conflicts of interest.

Which is complete bullshiz of course. In my personal opinion, my employer was just a money laundering operation with elements of legitimate banking to provide cover.

About three months into his role Mike called me one day. He was anxious sounding and speaking in a hushed tone. lt turned out that while I was observing the magic in Collections, he was watching it in even bigger amounts in his department. Loans made to customer banks and bank principals that would go poof that could be traced to political purposes initially. No record of their existence, no record of payoff, no flow through the coffers. I told him that if it was me, I would keep my mouth shut and follow it all from a distance, to not have my name on any of it since I did not know for sure what was going on. He agreed and had already decided to go that route, he was giving me a heads up. We had received some FIB training in the bank during our trainee period. For self preservation it would not be a good thing to rock the boat as FIB was clearly in bed with the bank’s execs and politicians. They obviously already knew or had reason to know. Even as a 23 year old, I figured out that all of it had to be known by regulators, auditors, law enforcement, etc. It was a system. Think about those implications.

Now, think again about that Barry Seal, Bill Clinton and Mena video I posted recently in a previous part.

Extend those thoughts to what you know about Epstein, Haiti, selling uranium rights to Putin, Al-Qaeda flourishing, cartels, etc.

I will not dox Mike as he is one of the good guys who works in the industry as a Senior Loan Officer for a bank out of the northeast although he still lives in Arkansas. He got the heck out of there in time just as I did.

Banks in those days had a daily cash balancing regulatory requirement in a position our bank called the pivot. Turned out one of the guys who I liked a lot and who had originally interviewed me for the trainee role, Steve, was the senior officer in charge of the pivot and daily balancing in the Operations Department. This would be the spot where the funds flow would need to be reconciled daily. So what happened there? More magic?

Sort of like this, I guess.

He was an average guy from a small, rural Arkansas town in his first big job in the city. There is no doubt in my mind he would do what he was told. However, in one of our many discussions he mentioned he did not plan to stay in Little Rock. He had other things he wanted to pursue near where he grew up. I lost track of him as he was not employed there when I checked on him a few years later when I had occasion to visit Little Rock for other business. Whitewater did not explode onto the national scene until a number of years later, but it all began the year after I left the employment of that bank. That bank was right smack dab in the epicenter of it all doing what I stated above and much, much more. Methinks Steve realized it was time to get the hell out of Dodge as well as he was not implicated in the scheme.

For what it is worth, that bank was purchased by the largest bank in the state who then sold out to Boatman’s Bank, who then sold out to NationsBank, who then merged with B of A and formed the humongous Bank of America – all in a space of about 10 years. So anything nefarious that happened during the 70s and 80s died with the merger fury.

The Names

The politicians who dined there with the bank’s owner, other bank execs and state business leaders included Sen. John McClellan, Sen. Dale Bumpers, Governor David Pryor, AGs Jim Guy Tucker (later convicted) and Bill Clinton (should have been executed), Lt. Gov. Joe Purcell, House Reps Ray Thornton, John Paul Hammerschmidt and Bill Alexander (weasel). JPH was the only GOPer in the bunch serving the more conservative northwest AR. He was more of a moderate back then. He did not visit as often and was not involved in the Dem political meetings, appearances being what they needed to be.

Our attorney banker Chairman was a very close friend of Sen. McClellan. As an ensign in the Navy in WW II he was burned very badly in a Japanese air attack on his mine sweeping ship. He was sent to Bethesda Naval Hospital in DC to recover and met Sen. McClellan while there. They remained close friends all of their lives.

I was dining there one day with a prospect when many of the above referenced were having a luncheon meeting to discuss the handoff of Sen. McClellan’s senate seat to Gov. Pryor. Sen. McClellan was older and having serious health issues. He knew he needed to retire before his term expired. Gov. Pryor was the heir apparent and all of them were discussing their plans and the future pecking order openly. However, Sen McClellan passed away within a few days after that meeting. An interim, Kaneaster Hodges, a key state Dem politico was appointed to serve his remaining term until the election the next year, when Gov. Pryor would run for the seat and continue the politics of the group. Which happened as planned as they wanted everything to be orderly and for Clinton to be prepared for the governor role, which he won as did Pryor with the vacated Senate seat in late 1978.

I remember talking with other bank officers about the young guy at the table with all of older politicians and they explained who he was (Clinton). They stated he would be ascending in the state and nationally. Groomed, programmed and implemented as planned.

It would be just a few years later that I would work with other patriots in eastern AR and on the Board of a PAC in Little Rock to unseat Clinton as Governor. It was a most pleasurable experience as I knew much about that guy. I just could not see a womanizing coke head with a weirdo attorney wife being the governor of the state. In those days the term of office for a governor was only two years. We helped elect conservative GOPer Frank White, a Little Rock savings and loan exec. He was the first GOP candidate to win the office since Winthrop Rockefeller. Clinton made the mistakes of raising taxes, car tag fees and also supported another wave of Cuban boat lift refugees being housed at Ft. Chaffee in that first term without consideration of how the state’s citizens viewed it. He had already supported the first batch going there a couple of years before, which did not sit well with many Arkansans. The Dems were caught a bit unaware, somewhat like PDT and the 2016 election. They had not done enough to fix the vote.

The same group of us worked behind the scenes to set up the foundation for the removal of Teddy Kennedy’s boy, Bill Alexander as the House Rep in our district. Weasel as I nicknamed him. This was finally accomplished years after I left the state in 1992. My in-laws (and bosses) did not appear pleased that I supported their mortal enemies for most of my time as their SIL. There is a system, economically and culturally, that they were deeply rooted in that is abhorrent to me as a boy who grew up in a lower middle class working man/woman environment.

Our efforts and the votes of enraged Arkansans cost Clinton the Governor’s office for two years. He spent the next two years on an apology tour, kissing women and babies to be elected back into office in 1982. The Dems cleaned up his image and made sure they greased all the wheels and hands that needed it to win it. Had the people of Arkansas not given in, decades of grifting and selling out of America may have been avoided. I have a clear conscience, I did my part to try to upset the applecart. It helped lead to my divorce, which was also well worth it.

Conclusion

This is nearing a good stopping point for this part. However, we are not leaving Little Rock and the bank just yet. In the next part we need to introduce the sources of the money that fueled the referenced individuals and many more including well known corporate behemoths, in their climb to national power. That will take a little time to explain and will introduce more people to connect dots in play today.

I still wonder how I survived it all. There were threats that never materialized into actions. Thankfully. Which is why I carry even today. Not going down without an answer.

I believe I was considered a still insignificant minion at that time even though they clearly had plans for me as I will reveal next time. They did not invest into my grooming for nothing. When as a married couple we left Little Rock to move back to my ex-wife’s family and area of residence, I believe I became an out of sight, out of mind non-factor. They knew my ex’s family were in their big club. They probably figured I would be of use to them as a big fish in a smaller pond with my connections at some point, that they could control me. That assumption would be very wrong. As things go sometimes it turned out I used them to gain valuable personal connections, work experiences and life lessons for the future. I honestly did not know it would work out that way while in the middle of it. I was not smart or devious enough to be that good at conning the cons. Playing dumb only works for so long. But looking back now I clearly see the hand of God bailing me out and smoothing the troubled waters that threatened to drown me as I slowly made my way back home as the prodigal. It is in those dark times that I sought Him and He chose to save me from myself.

As a result, I am now…

Love your messages, Zach. We are kindred spirits.

And then there is Zach Williams. Grammy and Dove awards. Collaborating with Dolly with a song, video and soon appearing in her annual Christmas movie. Singing the songs that move my heart in that beloved southern country rock and blues voice and music of his. For what it’s worth, Zach grew up in, well , wouldn’t you know it? He is from northeast Arkansas and the city where I went to college. He went to church at Central Baptist with his fine parents. He fell away from the faith of his youth and pursued the rock and roll lifestyle internationally. The link below is an excellent story about him. He is my favorite musical artist and I truly understand his story. Been there, done that, just in a different time and way. But when you know what you know – FREEDOM!

Zach Williams

Zach would not know me from Adam, we have never personally met although I would love that opportunity. However, he was taught the Bible for some of his younger years at Central Baptist with his family by a friend of mine from college. Back in my day, his future Bible teacher and I would party hardy together with several other guys from the university’s football team who had joined our frat. We enjoyed whipping each other on the racket ball courts as well. My college friend got the call in the 7th round on draft day. He wasn’t there to take their call and somebody took the message and left it in on his dorm room’s door. He went on to play in the NFL in Chitcago and we lost touch as one is prone to do after college. After his career ended with a brutal knee injury in 1983, he faced a crisis of what to do with his life. It was disheartening to be a starter at linebacker for the Bears and then, boom, no longer able to play while watching his former teammates win the Super Bowl two years later. Turns out that Jesus came into his heart a decade after our time together in college when his playing days had ended. He found solace in the Lord’s arms and was reborn a changed man. About the same time I was going through a crisis of faith and divorce hundreds of miles away from each other.

He soon received a calling on his heart from the Lord to teach His Word. He enrolled and graduated from Mid-America Baptist Theological Seminary in Memphis in 1987, a couple years after I moved away from the area. He moved back to Jonesboro where he was well known and loved to begin his Bible teaching ministry at Central Baptist. He later became an owner in a sporting goods store there. In addition to Zach, this is where he would also meet the son of good friends who lived across the street from us in East TN named Bobby. We have been close for many years and formerly vacationed together as families when Bobby and our daughter were younger. Bobby went to a different, nearby Baptist college in Arkansas to play collegiate soccer on the national stage. Which is where he would meet his future bride and move back to our community where he is now an elementary school PE teacher and coach. They then had a daughter who is currently on the basketball Lady Vols’ radar as a potential point guard in about 4 years if she continues to develop well. Small world – again.

While in school there, Bobby went shopping for soccer gear and stopped by the sporting goods store and as luck would have it, began a conversation with my college buddy. He brought my name up to him as I had mentioned my friend’s name with other guys I was friends with back in those days since Bobby was headed to college in that area. So Bobby already knew about the football exploits of the man with whom he was talking. My college friend was happy to learn that Jesus had His way with me as well. I do wish he would have left some of our past exploits out of his story telling that ensued. Now 40 year old Bobby still zings me over it when we play a round of golf together. Of course he knew that would happen when he told Bobby our stories. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Imagine, some people think that trash talking just started in recent years. 😂

I will tie Zach’s former Bible teacher/my college friend into the story more next time. Until then, be blessed.

Back In My Day: Baseball and Arkansas? Why?

At one time earlier in my life, the state of Arkansas became my “field of dreams” for some reason that I still cannot determine. This series will explore the next dozen years of my life after high school graduation. This part will provide background and set the stage for what follows.

Background

I left my family’s saga of Coal Country in the early 1950’s with travel north on the Hillbilly Highway. One of their stops was in Portsmouth, Ohio, where the DOD was building atomic research and development facilities. I was born there. The same year in which I was born, the construction phase of the project was winding down. My father began interviewing for a new job and landed one as a surveyor/engineer for a large construction contractor for Armco Steel in southwest Ohio. It was there where I grew up. A steel mill brat in the middle of the cornfields between the two large metropolitan areas of Cincinnati and Dayton. However, for the next 18 years our family piled in the station wagon and headed south back to Coal Country for a weekend every 2-3 weeks.

We lived in that steel mill town until I hit 8th grade, when we moved to a smaller community nearby where I finished high school. Our family had no money to send me to a major state or a private university. My choices were to earn a scholarship, borrow money beyond what I could earn from a summer job, or commute to a branch of a nearby college. I had many small college offers to play football. However, they did not offer athletic scholarships and we could not afford the cost. Then one day in March before I graduated, a scholarship offer came in the mail to play baseball for a state university in Arkansas. A state and place none of my family knew anything about at all. We had not had any contact with them prior to receipt of the letter. The offer was combined with academics and all I had to do was maintain a 3.0 or better GPA to keep it until graduating. We learned that the cost of living in Arkansas was low, so my summer jobs could provide the spending money I needed each year.

None of us bothered to ask why or how I got the offer. It was a dream come true for my father, who had played semi-pro ball in the coal mining camp leagues. He had raised me a Cincinnati Reds fan and we enjoyed following the team together. What I would give now for this, just like we used to do in the backyard.

Baseball was my second best sport. We had a terrible team and a gym teacher who barely knew the game as coach. I had some talent, but how would anybody even know? I was not interested in a potential Naval Academy appointment. Vietnam was ending and I had learned too much from older friends about military life during those days. Will defend my country and people to my last breath. Go fight foreign wars for the Military Industrial Complex and Communists to profit – not happening even as an 18 year old.

Yup.

As a family we never really discussed how or why I received a baseball offer from a place that had not even contacted me before the offer. I responded to the offer letter with my interest and they sent the enrollment application. I filled it out and they sent the acceptance with the instructions and checklist of items that I needed to bring. The scholarship offer was real. A few months later I was off to Arkansas with my family. No car, stay in a dorm, walk everywhere and with just enough money to live.

I was notified to show up to meet my head coach and teammates. Most of us were assigned to the same wing of the dorm for those who did not live off campus. We started fall practice later that week as classes began. My first observations of the coach were that he was very old and slow. In fact, he fell asleep standing in the third base coaches box during one game, which was really funny except he could have been hurt or killed by a line drive down the foul line. He had a great reputation, but clearly had one foot out the door toward retiring. The assistant coach seemed to know the game though.

I had chosen a Business major for a BS degree. After I arrived on campus I learned that the school had a strong regional reputation in that field of study. When I saw the professor line up I knew why. A prominent law professor who had survived the Bataan death march in the Philippines in WW II, the state Board of Accountancy’s President, a prominent internationally acclaimed Greek economics professor, a statistics and finance professor who was well connected with the state’s banking industry, and so on. I learned that in that region of the delta, the deep south’s financial and business community filled many of their employment openings with grads from that business school.

I bought in. I had no idea about any of that beforehand. It just worked out that way.

For what it is worth, my collegiate baseball career lasted exactly one season as a bench warmer. There was a strong junior performer already at my position. I got in two games, had one hit, and clearly was not going to become a professional at some point in my life. As things go, a devastating tornado hit the town and part of the campus one week after the spring semester and the season ended. I had already returned home for the summer. Lives were lost and damages were extensive. The baseball field was a casualty. They informed us that the next season would be limited and any home games played at the local high school. Options were presented to honor the scholarship and remain a student without being a player, to transfer, or to play the limited season. I said goodbye to playing baseball and chose to remain a student.

The next three years were spent taking a full load of classes, having fun occasionally, working part time jobs 20-30 hours per week, and getting serious with a couple of ladies before settling on one who also settled on me. Life was busy. Being a poor boy from a hard working construction/steel mill family background in the Midwest with Coal Country roots, I had no idea what being married into an Old South plantation farming family would be like. But people are people, right? I would learn and adapt.

Time To Find A Job

As I was preparing to graduate I interviewed for jobs through the school’s placement office and settled on a management trainee position I wanted to pursue with the state’s third largest banking institution. The owners of which also owned a local bank in that college town and were friends with my business statistics and finance professor. A good reference from him and off I went to Little Rock to interview with all of the big dogs in the bank along with a number of other recent grads from around the state. If I made the cut for one of the three positions I would be called back for a final interview with the bank’s contracted psychologist.

That meant nothing to me then. I just assumed it was a normal part of the process. It’s a huge red flag to me now.

My interviews with the top brass went well. I have always been able to see people as getting in their britches/pants/slacks the same way I do. I was respectful and answered all of their questions, went to lunch with them. Since the owner and interview team knew the school well and some of my professors, it was easy to connect.

A few days later they contacted the placement office and requested I come for the final interview with the psychologist. I drove the three hours to his office and a couple of the bank’s officers were there who had interviewed me previously. They explained that the psychologist was used by many major corporations as well as by the Dallas Cowboys for coach and player interviews. Wow. I felt special and a bit scared at that point. I was getting married in one month and needed to nail down this job so we could finish our preparations. My eggs had been placed in that one basket as I had moved on from other options. However, I wondered why they were going to this extent for an entry level college grad management trainee position for which they would take a year preparing me before being placed in the position best suited for my abilities?

There were three final candidates for the three positions that had to interview with the psychologist. So I played the game when it was my turn. My sincerity rang true to him. I would be a stable addition as I was marrying and moving to our future in the state capital in a line of work I was suited for and enjoyed. I would be a company soldier and commit to the process. Etc. etc.

They offered jobs to all three of us the next day. They told me to report minus my mustache and to get a banker’s hair cut. Check. They took me to the cheap suit store downtown where all the bankers went and I spent a couple hundred dollars on work attire. Initially I would make just enough to pay our anticipated bills while my future, already wealthy wife would interview for work in her chosen fashion industry. We were set. So I rented an apartment in town and moved furniture and possessions there over the next couple of weeks. Time to get married.

The Year Was 1976.

A young power couple by the names of Bill and Hillary Clinton had married the year before and were practicing law in Little Rock. When I arrived in town to start on my job, Slick had already been announced as the future state AG. Other than in NW Arkansas, only Dems won political races in the state during those days. I will not spend time on Slick’s legendary libido and coke snorting or Cankles’ grating personality, ego and rants. Those are well documented by others. What I will spend time on is how the good ole boys club worked with the related politicians and business leaders back then because I personally saw two years of it inside the walls of my employer and another three years of it later on the board of a PAC with a different employer.

I learned the psychologist’s primary role was to determine future competency expectations as well as loyalty to the mission. It was clear once I had worked there for several months that we would learn things that needed to remain quiet and confidential even if they were potentially unethical or even illegal. To a limited degree we would learn who many of the major players were on the state and national stage along with how they played the game at times. That also needed to stay quiet for obvious reasons. They would only reveal a small amount as you gained experience and they developed trust in you. The rest you figured out from observation and discussing with other employees.

On a lighter note, I knew I had earned a mini-position of trust when they sent me to War Memorial Stadium to pick up the bank’s tickets for Arkansas Razorback football games that fall. Half of their home game schedule was played in Little Rock in those days and I would be the guy that picked them up and delivered to the VIPs. My benefit for doing so was receipt of two free tickets for my wife and I to go and to yes, wear hog hats and call the pigs. When in Rome, do as the Romans…

Pig, sooie?

Conclusion

The next parts will focus on the people of note and personal observations over the next nine years of my life before permanently leaving that region for good, thankfully. Some of you who have lived as long or longer than I may remember some or all of the names.

I posted the video below on a recent daily. For those who did not see it, an hour well spent in my opinion. You will understand better what Mena was all about as well as the degree of cover up that existed in government and its agencies even back then. The world stage and level of evil has far surpassed what is even presented here.

Until next time…

Back In My Day: Coal Country Heroes – In Coal Country, Some Make It To Just Give It Away

It is an interesting concept. Make as much as you can honestly so you have more to give to others. You know, kind of like what Nancy Pelosi, Barry Soetoro and The Big Guy do.

Well, we know better with that bunch and those like them. However, some people actually do it differently. It’s as if they take the words of Jesus seriously. This story is about such a family who did just that. Yet, they flew under the radar for many years in the media and public view, but not in the hearts and minds of the people they helped.

Before I go into that story, I need to move my paternal side of the family story along.

The Hillbilly Highway

The year was 1951. My parents had met in 1949 in the coal camp town of St. Charles, VA and married in 1950. My father worked for the Stonega Coal Company in St. Charles. which was headquartered in nearby Big Stone Gap of neighboring Wise County, VA. He was a surveyor and engineer for the company. He went to work one day and learned with my Papaw and the rest of the employees that the company was being sold over time to a larger company in Pennsylvania and that operations would be shut down in St. Charles over the coming year.

It was time to hit the Hillbilly Highway to find work in the Midwest factory towns where the jobs were, as so many in the region did after the war.

Could not resist…

Papaw

My Mamaw and Papaw, Dad’s parents, decided that it was time to call it a day and move back to southeastern KY or northeastern TN, to areas that held family and friends where it was home. They determined that if there was no work, there was no reason to be in St. Charles. Papaw was limited in what he could do physically as he had become infected with the dreaded Black Lung Disease about the same time as Dad had left to join the Navy for WW II in 1942.

Papaw was an amazingly strong man to have survived that long. He was diagnosed with Black Lung in his early 50s. For nearly a year he was unable to work, but slowly learned to cope with it and build some stamina back over the months when most men passed away from it. In fact, his physician told the family he probably had six months to live when he made the diagnosis. Mamaw worked in food service at a grocery in town to help them survive. Gradually Papaw regained enough strength to return to the mines in an Inspector role, which is what he did for the next 7-8 years before the Stonega mine closure announcement.

He did it without drawing a lot of attention to himself as he was a quiet man. He was revered by his co-workers and was the only man that my mentally ill mother openly respected all of his life. He had a quieter bit of this guy in him as a WW I army veteran himself. He came by it honestly, his mother was a York, a first cousin of this guy’s mom…

You might be surprised (or not) to know that what he ate and what he did after the diagnosis is similar nutritionally to what many of us have been doing with our nutrition and supplements along with exercise and rest to shield and restore us from bouts with COVID. Eggs with bacon or sausage for breakfast. Lots of vegetables with portions of beef, pork and chicken for lunch and dinner. Plenty of water, coffee and a glass of milk. A glass of beer a few days a month if they could afford it.

As he regained a bit of stamina after the diagnosis he would rise everyday at about 5 AM. He would go on a minimum 2 mile walk even in moderate winter weather. The Knoxville News Sentinel newspaper would be in the local market or paper box by the time he finished the walk and he would pick one up daily to start his reading.

Proper nutrition, sleep, exercise, stress relief, no interest in more toys, rent, just enough money, Bible reading daily, meditate and pray, follow current events, grow a garden and can, enjoy the outdoors, enjoy and help others, and love each other was the recipe for his and Mamaw’s peace and healing. Even with the problems of my parents and our dysfunctional family unit, I was able to see Papaw and Mamaw doing it well with very little. I made a mental note as a youth. It meant more because I did not see it at home. To say I was a Papaw and Mamaw boy would be an understatement.

Mamaw – A Woman After God’s Own Heart

With all due and proper respect for the Word’s statement about David being a man after God’s own heart in I Samuel 13:14, which obviously was true, so such a woman also existed on this planet many years later. Just like David, she realized her righteousness did not come from her actions, but from her love for and submission to God. She simply accepted all of His Word as true and applied it. At a time when others may have given up or ignored God, like David she chose to praise Him. Many of David’s psalms were full of his heartaches and even questioning of God, but he never stopped serving and worshiping Him. As I read Mamaw’s poems written over decades and remember my experiences with her, I see the same thing.

Mamaw was the star child of her poor family. Her father was a coal miner like so many in those years around Middlesboro, KY. She maxed out as an adult at 4′ 9″ and around 85-90 lbs., which made her pairing with my 6′, 200 lbs. Papaw a bit odd looking. She loved going to school and dreamed of one day being a teacher there. That dream was realized when the small town helped by paying for her to go to college to be a teacher in the area, which she did faithfully for many years in the coal camp towns. She loved nature, cooking, cleaning, sewing, writing poems, reading, helping others and smoking 3 Salem cigarettes per day. Yep, that’s right. They were smoked before or after meals. She did not enjoy eating or being around my mother.

She said more than a few dresses to wear each year were too many. She made them all with her sewing machine from patterns. She then gave away one or more that she had from the last batch. She had limited jewelry, accessories and makeup. In a similar manner she had one heavy coat, one light coat, a couple of scarfs, winter gloves, a few pairs of shoes. Her lingerie and stockings fit in one dresser drawer. All of it was planned and she wanted no clothing as a birthday or Christmas gift. Stationary, pens and/or a book would do just fine. She was never a girlie girl as the work required strong calloused hands with a mountain living fitness.

She quilted. I have the quilt she made that kept both or her children warm as babies.

She was thrifty because that was all she had ever known or desired. She wanted to make sure her family had plenty to eat, clean clothes and a roof over their head even if it meant she would do without other things. If the world overlooked her or considered her insignificant, it did not matter to her as she would devote herself to the needs of others until she drew her last breath. If a neighbor or friend needed anything and they had it to give it would be done. She had a resolve to simply not go down, not give up.

When you were in her presence and had her attention, you knew you were deeply loved. She would ask thoughtful and penetrating questions. If she did not give you her attention over an extended period of time, it meant you did not hold favor with her. She rarely said an angry word. The only person she clearly could not enjoy being around was my mother. She would just leave the room and avoid confrontation in front of the family. However, there was this one time when we were gone and they were there alone together. Boundaries were established that mother never crossed again.

When Papaw could no longer work, Mamaw continued to work to help them survive at a food service job or later as a cloth cutter in a shirt manufacturing facility in town until she was about 72 years old. When The Black Lung Benefits Disease Act was finally passed in 1972, having enough money to live on was not as much of a factor and she no longer worked outside their home.

The last 15 years or so of their lives together were spent living in a walk up rental apartment in an old, national historic site mansion (more like a large frame Victorian style house) in LaFollette, TN. They were very content there. The owner was a widow of a downtown hotel owner/operator. The home was built by one of the two brothers that originally founded the town. A large vegetable garden was located on the property. Mamaw and Papaw would tend the garden every year with the owner. In return she would give them whatever they desired to eat and can to help them get through the colder months. It was a much appreciated lifeline and the three became close friends through the years. As a result they could save money to buy coal to heat their apartment with the fireplace. Yes, they used coal to stay warm. Which is how fireplaces were built back in the day in the region, to handle coal and wood. It was amazing they survived for all those years doing that, even without a CO and smoke detector! 😉

Also on the property were many beautiful gardens, a gazebo and a stream. It was there that Mamaw could enjoy nature, be at peace and have a place to contemplate her next poem or work on a quilt in the cool of the evenings or by the fire. She would enjoy having a cup of coffee and a conversation with her owner friend during those times.

She never declined mentally until the day she died. Her body gave out because she had no appetite. The rest of us would dive into her great country cooking when we visited, while she might have a small plate of pinto beans and a slice of cornbread with milk. She would allow her body to become dehydrated in the last few years, which basically led to her death at age 78 as her organs shut down and she could not be revived. She had left us and gone to be with her blessed Lord and Savior. I am sure he welcomed her with open arms with a heavenly choir singing. Our loss was Heaven’s gain.

Papaw spent his last few years living alternately with both my parents and my aunt until he passed away in his sleep of old age in my parent’s home.

Meanwhile

While they were living out their lives on the eastern side of our region’s coal country; on the western side of the northeastern TN mountains in Scott County there was a a young saw mill and timber businessman working for his father. Wanting to do more with his life, he left to learn the coal business and be a salesman at the recently formed Garland Coal Company. He stayed with the company and eventually became its President. Years later he left and began buying other distressed coal companies and their mines while buying interests in the timber business. Over time he combined coal mining operations in Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia with timber operations into one company called Elk River Resources. He accumulated a vast fortune over those years. As he entered his early 70s he sold the company for $300 million, which would be the equivalent of at least a couple billion dollars today. The value of the transaction was enhanced greatly by an invention from his design that the company used in its coke making processes.

It was the original emission free coke oven. The answer to the growing environmental and health issues associated with using coke produced from coal in industrial furnaces.

Did I just write, “emission free”? Yes, I believe I did. Of course that is a relative statement, so let’s just go with proven safe emission levels. Below is a link from about 2010 to a comprehensive explanation of the more recent usage, status and evolution of the process for those so inclined to dive into the weeds.

https://cdn.intechopen.com/pdfs/38333/InTech-Environmental_control_and_emission_reduction_for_coking_plants.pdf

B. Ray Thompson, Sr.

That’s the name of the Scott County, TN native that made the fortune while helping develop an environmentally friendly product and process that made the use of coke safer. Having made many millions prior to selling his company for hundreds of millions, he needed something to do for the last decade of his life. What follows is a testament to a father and son who had big hearts for their fellow mankind.

Going back to when it all began; after the birth of his second son, his first wife passed away. Not long thereafter he moved with his two sons from Scott County to Knoxville in 1941 with 2 dollars in his pocket. He married his second wife some time later, who also passed away of cancer in 1953. He continued in his sales role and then began the previously described process of buying coal companies and timber rights in the early 1960s with his sons, which became Elk River Resources as described above.

His dream was always to give back to the people and children of the areas of his youth. Elk River was known for doing just that by helping in many ways. As he neared his death, in 1987, the Thompson Charitable Foundation (TCF) was formed and later, the Elgin Foundation was formed by son, B. Ray Thompson, Jr., and family. The later was named for the community in which Senior was born and raised. The Elgin Foundation is devoted to helping children throughout the region while the TCF is for overall donation purposes. In addition, Senior was well known for giving a $5 million donation for a seed contribution to the construction cost of a large new basketball and entertainment arena on campus known as Thompson-Boling Arena, which is in use by the University of Tennessee to this day. He resisted having the facility named after him until a group of influential boosters led by Pilot Oil’s Big Jim Haslam agreed with B. Ray to add the President of UT’s name for whom all had great respect, Ed Boling, on the sign with him.

B. Ray Sr. had been deeply hurt by the loss of his second wife to cancer. After he sold his company, he used part of his funds to provide the seed capital to do something about that evil disease. A local hospital, Ft. Sanders, now part of the Covenant Health System chain, worked with him to establish a dedicated cancer diagnostics and treatment facility on their main hospital campus near the university now known as Thompson Cancer Survival Center. It has become an important addition to the region as the premiere oncology center regionally as described in the link below.

https://www.thompsoncancer.com/locations/

My wife and daughter use it annually for breast exams and our daughter also interned as a volunteer there as she was pursuing a nursing degree.

Upon his passing away at 81 years of age, the TCF had been established and left in the care of family members, with his son as President.

B. Ray Thompson, Jr.

Oh my, what a man. If you do not care for Christianity, giving back and paying it forward – you might want to sit out the rest of this story.

Junior went by the name of Ray while his father was always B. Ray. I am calling him Junior to differentiate from his father. He went to school in Knoxville with his younger brother after the move from Scott County with their father. Senior had purchased a home along Maryville Pike there. He went to the University of Tennessee. I know that not because of open media type sources and reports. I know because my father knew him. They were both in their first year at UT after the end of WW II. Dad was 6 years older than Junior with 4 years in the Naval Air Force and had already completed 2 years of college at Lincoln Memorial before the war. He had grown up in coal country on the eastern side, Junior had his western Scott County roots where his grandparents still lived. They both knew the coal business of their parents. Junior planned to get a business degree, Dad was going for civil engineering. I have Dad’s student enrollment book information from 1946-47 with them and other notables in it that he would talk about through the years.

My father was done with school in two years and took an entry level job locally with ALCOA (Aluminum Company of America) in the Parts Department. Junior continued until graduation a couple of years after that. About the time Junior graduated, Dad returned to the mines to be a surveyor/engineer where Papaw was employed in his native Campbell County, TN. He then started his International School the Mines education. Junior stayed in Knoxville and went to work with Elk River with his father, where he became an integral part of company operations. Their paths did not cross after that although a good friend of Dad’s that he remained close to for many years was a Knoxville attorney who did legal work for Elk River at times.

So, when Junior’s father sold the company in the 70s to Sun Corporation some 25 years later, he was a major beneficiary. Senior handed the family investments to Junior. He was also over the foundation development plans while Senior stayed close to the major business and university leaders who were his friends.

It was during his working years with Elk River that Junior, his wife and children started going to the evangelical 200+ year old Cedar Springs Presbyterian Church. Oh yeah, who else do we recall has been a long standing member of that church? That would be former mayor, governor and current owner in Pilot Oil, Bill Haslam and his wife and family. In reality, Junior was involved with so many churches and Christian ministries that he was claimed by all.

Junior was married to his wife, Juanne, for 63 years until his death at age 88 in 2017. She died a few months later at the age of 85. They were totally devoted to each other. They had 4 daughters and a son along with a bunch of grandchildren. He left a legacy that will probably never be fully known except in Heaven. The number of kids who have been helped through the Elgin Foundation he started in honor of his father and their roots in rural eastern Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia has been estimated by charity leadership at over 90,000. Free dental services have been provided to over 35,000 children in the region alone. The Foundation continued on after his passing five years ago and is run by his three daughters doing what it has always done. During the later half of Junior’s life he was personally involved in many of the individual charities and with the recipients on a daily basis. The best part is the general public never really noticed because he wanted no publicity, just like his father. Just went about helping others daily from the blessings already provided to themselves. He also did his part to support UT athletics with an $11 million donation to build the indoor practice field used by the football team as well as $2.5 million for a renovation of the arena. TCF still gives away millions each year.

The simplicity of his obituary speaks to his humble spirit:

https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/knoxnews/name/b-thompson-obituary?id=16724212

The most recent record of Thompson Charitable Foundation donations:

https://thompsoncharitable.org/grants/year/2021/

Elgin Foundation

http://elginfoundation.org

Conclusion

In case you were wondering, their first names were Buster. Now you see why Senior went by B. Ray and Junior went by Ray. There would have been a lot of jokes to endure during those days. Right, Buster?! How do you like your new shoes, Buster? Listen here, Buster! 🤣

Or, you can call me Ray…

Still love this one after all these years.

In all families there are difficult circumstances. In addition to the loss of Senior’s two wives, Senior’s other son, Jesse Jackson Thompson, Junior’s one year younger brother, was estranged from his family. He left in the 1960’s and never came back. He passed away over 20 years ago and is buried in Charlotte, NC with no record of any other family members being involved. A business associate of Junior once told me there were mental problems and that he had refused all efforts by Senior and Junior to assist and be a part of the family.

At the end of his life my father expressed a few regrets. One was that he had ever left east TN. Yep, I get that one. Another was that he should have stayed with ALCOA through their rapid growth as he would have eventually been able to do what he wanted with his career there. Yep, a lot of our friends and neighbors had good careers there. The other was questioning what would have happened had he come back to work with Elk River instead of staying in the Midwest to finish his career. Thompson’s Elk River Resources flourished while the Armco steel mill where he worked for 36 years went downhill and sold out.

Forks in the road type stuff. I could have been tactful and nice. Nah. I told him he messed up, but it was OK because I was his son as a result. He laughed and agreed with me. Those are the type decisions we all face at various times in our lives. Water under the bridge.

The Thompson moral of the story is clear. Persevere through tough times. Do the right things and take advantage of opportunities. Make money the right way and then give it away along with your time to those who could use a helping hand. It’s a Christian principle that you will never out give God. The world is a better place because of Coal Country Heroes like the B. Rays and their families. The lesson…

Be blessed and do something like Mamaw, the B. Ray’s, or Andrea wherever you are and whatever your situation.

Next up we will arrive at our Coal Country destination before beginning the next series.

Women And Womanhood Are Under Attack. Where Are The Feminists?

Cover image reference.

It started with this Gospel passage proclaimed on the morning of June 27, the Thirteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time:

MARK 5:21-43

21And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him; and he was beside the sea. 22Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Ja’irus by name; and seeing him, he fell at his feet, 23and besought him, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24And he went with him. And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him. 25And there was a woman who had had a flow of blood for twelve years, 26and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. 27She had heard the reports about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. 28For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I shall be made well.” 29And immediately the hemorrhage ceased; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 30And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone forth from him, immediately turned about in the crowd, and said, “Who touched my garments?” 31And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, `Who touched me?'” 32And he looked around to see who had done it. 33But the woman, knowing what had been done to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. 34And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” 35While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” 36But ignoring what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” 37And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. 38When they came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, he saw a tumult, and people weeping and wailing loudly. 39And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a tumult and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Tal’itha cu’mi”; which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” 42And immediately the girl got up and walked (she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. 43And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

In some Lectionaries, the bolded passage is optional to read, and just the account of Jarius’s daughter is the point of the day. One Mass I cantored that weekend, indeed the presider chose not to read that segment. Essentially, the woman with the issue of blood, a character in the Gospels who appears in all three of the Synoptic Gospels, which is unique in and of itself, her story was considered to be so important that she could essentially be canceled on a given week.

(Another priest I heard talk that weekend did read the passage, but was dismissive of the incident in the midst of a father’s pain in potentially losing a child. Seriously, a twelve year period is no joke. The anemia alone is debilitating.)

In both cases, the presiders – light in the loafers, if you will, although celibate, I am quite sure – mentioned that Bishop so and so – a name famous in Catholic circles, and also quite light in the loafers – said that such and such should be mentioned in the homily, and what it all meant. No mention of the woman, though.

Blah, blah, blah.

Now, this is not to dismiss Jarius and his daughter by any means, but the two stories being one in essence have the same resonance: faith, pure faith, that Jesus could work a miracle for them.

And the story of the woman who suffered at the hands of the system was either ignored or dismissed in favor of the man’s story where the crisis was not chronic, but immediate.

There was another incident that escapes my head, and then there was this:

https://youtu.be/Iz-ELg_RrFw

There are simply no words as to how insulting this is to women. Real women, especially those who would have loved to have been mothers, but it didn’t happen for whatever reason, not to mention mothers who lactated for years. Dude, you just don’t have the equipment. It ain’t happening.

And then some genius decided to make a pregnant man emoji.

Guys, that’s called a beer belly. Trust me. They run in part of my gene pool and are a precursor to diabetes among other ailments.

https://twitter.com/youngbiafra/status/1416062358951190532

Yes, it is. And where are the feminists?

Black women are demanding OUR right to vote! We’re marching to the Senate to send a strong message. ✊🏾 #OurPowerOurMessage pic.twitter.com/YyGT4uayto
— Rep. Joyce Beatty (@RepBeatty) July 15, 2021

There’s a few constitutional amendments these women need to read. Black women have been able to vote for over a hundred years.

And in all of this, where are the feminists? Where are the self described defenders of women’s rights?

Oh, that’s right. They are hell bent on women killing their children if their conception isn’t prevented in the first place.

What is really sick about this is in looking back at the women’s rights movements, women today have no idea how good they’ve got it, and the right to vote is the least of the issues. The suffrage/suffragette push started, actually, as an outgrowth of something far larger.

In England, and her sphere of off-shoots (that includes the U.S.), after the Cromwell years, women had no rights, and in a way that was the message of Jane Austen’s body of work: to demonstrate how unfair the social standards and rules of heredity were, and how women were just treated as chattel. In Sense and Sensibility, the Dashwood women were thrown out of their home and forced to live by the charity of a relative. In Pride and Prejudice, the Bennett sisters were all tarnished by one sister running off with a man who seduced her at the age of fifteen. In Emma, her friend Harriet is the by-blow of God only knows who, and cannot aspire to a marriage of the caliber that Emma can. Life was not fair for women even among landed gentry, and their only hope to escape eventual poverty was marriage, and then the husband held all the cards, including her money – her dowry – which was a complete departure from the original purpose of a woman’s fortune which was supposed to be a safety net for her and any children she had. (See Mary Kate’s fortune in The Quiet Man for reference. In the west, a dowry was a pagan custom that survived in Christianity, so it couldn’t have been all bad.)

In researching the suffrage/suffragette movements, it seems it started in England with fathers wanting to be sure that their daughters’ money was not controlled completely by their husbands. (This is a BIG point made in the Romance sub-genre of Regency. Marriage settlements are always about how much a father provides to his daughter’s new husband.)

Yes, it was all about the money, and in the United States, it was somewhat about women being able to sign contracts, and having bank accounts without a husband. Widows were grandfathered in to an extent, but women owning property was not the norm. No, that was a man’s world. Women were to be the helpmates.

Forget the sexual aspect of it all and the voting rights. Women had nothing unless they were married or widowed.

That’s how it started.

And, according to the notoriously not quite reliable Wiki, this happened in England.

At a political meeting in Manchester in 1905, Christabel Pankhurst and millworker, Annie Kenney, disrupted speeches by prominent Liberals Winston Churchill and Sir Edward Grey, asking where Churchill and Grey stood with regards to women’s political rights. At a time when political meetings were only attended by men and speakers were expected to be given the courtesy of expounding their views without interruption, the audience were outraged, and when the women unfurled a “Votes for Women” banner they were both arrested for a technical assault on a policeman. When Pankhurst and Kenney appeared in court they both refused to pay the fine imposed, preferring to go to prison in order to gain publicity for their cause.^[25]

In July 1908 the WSPU hosted a large demonstration in Heaton Park, near Manchester with speakers on 13 separate platforms including Emmeline, Christabel and Adela Pankhurst. According to the Manchester Guardian:

Friends of the women suffrage movement are entitled to reckon the great demonstration at Heaton Park yesterday, arranged by the Women’s Social and Political Union, as somewhat of a triumph. With fine weather as an ally the women suffragists were able to bring together an immense body of people. These people were not all sympathisers with the object, and much service to the cause must have been rendered by merely collecting so many people and talking over the subject with them. The organisation, too, was creditable to the promoters…The police were few and inconspicuous. The speakers went by special [tram]car to the Bury Old Road entrance, and were escorted by a few police to several platforms. Here the escorts waited till the speaking was over, and then accompanied their respective charges back to the special car. There was little need, apparently, for the escort. Even the opponents of the suffrage claim who made themselves heard were perfectly friendly towards the speakers, and the only crowding about them as they left was that of curiosity on the part of those who wished to have a good look at the missioners in the cause.^[26]

Stung by the stereotypical image of the strong minded woman in masculine clothes created by newspaper cartoonists, the suffragettes resolved to present a fashionable, feminine image when appearing in public. In 1908 the co-editor of the WSPU’s Votes for Women newspaper, Emmeline Pethick-Lawrence,^[27] designed the suffragettes’ colour scheme of purple for loyalty and dignity, white for purity, and green for hope.^[28] Fashionable London shops Selfridges and Liberty sold tricolour-striped ribbon for hats, rosettes, badges and belts, as well as coloured garments, underwear, handbags, shoes, slippers and toilet soap.^[5] As membership of the WSPU grew it became fashionable for women to identify with the cause by wearing the colours, often discreetly in a small piece of jewellery or by carrying a heart-shaped vesta case^[29][5] and in December 1908 the London jewellers, Mappin & Webb, issued a catalogue of suffragette jewellery in time for the Christmas season.^[30] Sylvia Pankhurst said at the time: “Many suffragists spend more money on clothes than they can comfortably afford, rather than run the risk of being considered outré, and doing harm to the cause”.^[5] In 1909 the WSPU presented specially commissioned pieces of jewellery to leading suffragettes, Emmeline Pankhurst and Louise Eates.^[30]

The suffragettes also used other methods to publicise and raise money for the cause and from 1909, the “Pank-a-Squith” board game was sold by the WSPU. The name was derived from Pankhurst and the surname of Prime Minister H. H. Asquith, who was largely hated by the movement. The board game was set out in a spiral, and players were required to lead their suffragette figure from their home to parliament, past the obstacles faced from Prime Minister H. H. Asquith and the Liberal government.^[31] Also in 1909, suffragettes Daisy Solomon and Elspeth McClelland tried an innovative method of potentially obtaining a meeting with Asquith by sending themselves by Royal Mail courier post; however, Downing Street did not accept the parcel.^[32]Emily Davison

1912 was a turning point for the suffragettes, as they turned to using more militant tactics and began a window-smashing campaign. Some members of the WSPU, including Emmeline Pethick-Lawrence and her husband Frederick, disagreed with this strategy but Christabel Pankhurst ignored their objections. In response to this, the Government ordered the arrest of the WSPU leaders and, although Christabel Pankhurst escaped to France, the Pethick-Lawrences were arrested, tried and sentenced to nine months’ imprisonment. On their release, the Pethick-Lawrences began to speak out publicly against the window-smashing campaign, arguing that it would lose support for the cause, and eventually they were expelled from the WSPU. Having lost control of Votes for Women the WSPU began to publish their own newspaper under the title The Suffragette.^[33]

The campaign was then escalated, with the suffragettes chaining themselves to railings, setting fire to post box contents, smashing windows and eventually detonating bombs, as part of a wider bombing campaign.^[34] Some radical techniques used by the suffragettes were learned from Russian exiles from tsarism who had escaped to England.^[35] In 1914, at least seven churches were bombed or set on fire across the United Kingdom, including Westminster Abbey, where an explosion aimed at destroying the 700-year-old Coronation Chair, only caused minor damage.^[36] Places that wealthy people, typically men, frequented were also burnt and destroyed whilst left unattended so that there was little risk to life, including cricket pavilions, horse-racing pavilions, churches, castles and the second homes of the wealthy. They also burnt the slogan “Votes for Women” into the grass of golf couses.^[37] Pinfold Manor in Surrey, which was being built for the Chancellor of the Exchequer, David Lloyd George, was targeted with two bombs on 19 February 1913, only one of which exploded, causing significant damage; in her memoirs, Sylvia Pankhurst said that Emily Davison had carried out the attack.^[37] There were 250 arson or destruction attacks in a six-month period in 1913 ^[37] and in April the newspapers reported “What might have been the most serious outrage yet perpetrated by the Suffragettes”:

Policemen discovered inside the railings of the Bank of England a bomb timed to explode at midnight. It contained 3oz of powerful explosive, some metal, and a number of hairpins – the last named constituent, no doubt to make known the source of the intended sensation. The bomb was similar to that used in the attempt to blow up Oxted Railway Station. It contained a watch with attachment for explosion, but was clumsily fitted. If it had exploded when the streets were crowded a number of people would probably have been injured.^[38]

There are reports in the Parliamentary Papers which include lists of the ‘incendiary devices’, explosions, artwork destruction (including an axe attack upon a painting of The Duke of Wellington in the National Gallery), arson attacks, window-breaking, postbox burning and telegraph cable cutting, that took place during the most militant years, from 1910 to 1914.^[39] Both suffragettes and police spoke of a “Reign of Terror”; newspaper headlines referred to “Suffragette Terrorism”.^[40]

One suffragette, Emily Davison, died under the King‘s horse, Anmer, at The Derby on 4 June 1913. It is debated whether she was trying to pull down the horse, attach a suffragette scarf or banner to it, or commit suicide to become a martyr to the cause. However, recent analysis of the film of the event suggests that she was merely trying to attach a scarf to the horse, and the suicide theory seems unlikely as she was carrying a return train ticket from Epsom and had holiday plans with her sister in the near future.^[41]

Sound familiar?

Things were never that violent in the United States, but still, eventually, the woman’s rights and suffrage movements were co-opted for something far more insidious: the breakdown of the family and traditional marriage forged through Christianity.

Sound familiar? (See planks of the Communist Manifesto. Number 3 and to an extent number 10)

Now, men with psychiatric issues are trying to tell us biological women that, really, we’re all born eunuchs, and, well, we can pick and choose what we want to be later in life despite what set of chromosomes we are born with, and, oh, isn’t it wonderful that we guys are so in touch with our inner females that we are going to do your most important job on this planet for you? Guess what ladies! We’re going to birth and raise the next generation without ovaries and with borrowed eggs and wombs!

Sure.

Where are the feminists?

Where are the self described defenders of women?

Where are the loud mouthed squeaky wheels when we REALLY need them?

‘Cause this men pretending to be women is about the most egregious attack on women in the most natural sense since before even Jane Austen. It’s not rights which are under attack, but the entire idea of a unique sex.

And don’t you guys forget it.

Women and womanhood are under attack.

Where are our self-styled defenders?

‘Cause, you know, we girls raised to be ladies, mothers and the like are being pushed aside by the men who aren’t really sure that they are men and the ones who don’t quite appreciate the whole different sex thing.

(Sorry. Had to get that off my, uh, chest.)