The whole book which is here offered to the public has been written under the impression of a kind of religious dread produced in the author’s mind by the contemplation of so irresistible a revolution, which has advanced for centuries in spite of such amazing obstacles, and which is still proceeding in the midst of the ruins it has made. It is not necessary that God himself should speak in order to disclose to us the unquestionable signs of His will; we can discern them in the habitual course of nature, and in the invariable tendency of events: I know, without a special revelation, that the planets move in the orbits traced by the Creator’s finger. If the men of our time were led by attentive observation and by sincere reflection to acknowledge that the gradual and progressive development of social equality is at once the past and future of their history, this solitary truth would confer the sacred character of a Divine decree upon the change. To attempt to check democracy would be in that case to resist the will of God; and the nations would then be constrained to make the best of the social lot awarded to them by Providence.
I was going to write about Pvt. Rodger W. Young, and the new video of his ballad I had found:
I went to the Army’s Medal of Honor listing to get the text of his citation, and my eyes fell across the next name on the list… ZEAMER, JAY JR.
I had been meaning to do something on Capt Zeamer and 2d Lt Sarnoski ever since I saw an episode of Dogfights on the History Channel that covered his last mission in Old 666. I can’t say much beyond what actually happened, so I’ll just put the texts of all three citations here.
ZEAMER, JAY JR. (Air Mission)
Rank and organization: Major, U.S. Army Air Corps. Place and date: Over Buka area, Solomon Islands, 16 June 1943. Entered service at: Machias, Maine. Birth: Carlisle, Pa. G.O. No.: 1, 4 January 1944. Citation: On 16 June 1943, Maj. Zeamer (then Capt.) volunteered as pilot of a bomber on an important photographic mapping mission covering the formidably defended area in the vicinity of Buka, Solomon Islands. While photographing the Buka airdrome. his crew observed about 20 enemy fighters on the field, many of them taking off. Despite the certainty of a dangerous attack by this strong force, Maj. Zeamer proceeded with his mapping run, even after the enemy attack began. In the ensuing engagement, Maj. Zeamer sustained gunshot wounds in both arms and legs, 1 leg being broken. Despite his injuries, he maneuvered the damaged plane so skillfully that his gunners were able to fight off the enemy during a running fight which lasted 40 minutes. The crew destroyed at least 5 hostile planes, of which Maj. Zeamer himself shot down 1. Although weak from loss of blood, he refused medical aid until the enemy had broken combat. He then turned over the controls, but continued to exercise command despite lapses into unconsciousness, and directed the flight to a base 580 miles away. In this voluntary action, Maj. Zeamer, with superb skill, resolution, and courage, accomplished a mission of great value.
*SARNOSKI, JOSEPH R. (Air Mission)
Rank and organization: Second Lieutenant, U.S. Army Air Corps, 43rd Bomber Group, Place and date: Over Buka Area, Solomon Islands, 16 June 1943. Entered service at: Simpson, Pa. Born. 30 January 1915, Simpson, Pa. G.O. No.: 85, 17 December 1943. Citation: For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty. On 16 June 1943, 2d Lt. Sarnoski volunteered as bombardier of a crew on an important photographic mapping mission covering the heavily defended Buka area, Solomon Islands. When the mission was nearly completed, about 20 enemy fighters intercepted. At the nose guns, 2d Lt. Sarnoski fought off the first attackers, making it possible for the pilot to finish the plotted course. When a coordinated frontal attack by the enemy extensively damaged his bomber, and seriously injured 5 of the crew, 2d Lt. Sarnoski, though wounded, continued firing and shot down 2 enemy planes. A 20-millimeter shell which burst in the nose of the bomber knocked him into the catwalk under the cockpit. With indomitable fighting spirit, he crawled back to his post and kept on firing until he collapsed on his guns. 2d Lt. Sarnoski by resolute defense of his aircraft at the price of his life, made possible the completion of a vitally important mission.
*YOUNG, RODGER W.
Rank and organization: Private, U.S. Army, 148th Infantry, 37th Infantry Division. Place and date: On New Georgia, Solomon Islands, 31 July 1943. Entered service at: Clyde, Ohio. Birth: Tiffin, Ohio. G.O. No.: 3, 6 January 1944. Citation: On 31 July 1943, the infantry company of which Pvt. Young was a member, was ordered to make a limited withdrawal from the battle line in order to adjust the battalion’s position for the night. At this time, Pvt. Young’s platoon was engaged with the enemy in a dense jungle where observation was very limited. The platoon suddenly was pinned down by intense fire from a Japanese machinegun concealed on higher ground only 75 yards away. The initial burst wounded Pvt. Young. As the platoon started to obey the order to withdraw, Pvt. Young called out that he could see the enemy emplacement, whereupon he started creeping toward it. Another burst from the machinegun wounded him the second time. Despite the wounds, he continued his heroic advance, attracting enemy fire and answering with rifle fire. When he was close enough to his objective, he began throwing handgrenades, and while doing so was hit again and killed. Pvt. Young’s bold action in closing with this Japanese pillbox and thus diverting its fire, permitted his platoon to disengage itself, without loss, and was responsible for several enemy casualties.
Two different branches, the same theatre, but right next to each other on the rolls.
Shines the name, shines the name, of Rodger Young…
Charlie Wilson was a low-down dirty politician. He was a drunkard, a womanizer, and he played with the nose candy. But compared to the rest of the Congresscritters, he was a saint. With Charlie Wilson, you knew what you were getting– no B.S., no smoke screen, no talking out both sides of the mouth.
Here’s a toast to Charlie Wilson, the only man to be inspired by Dan Rather.
Many churches in the American South still hold traditional sunrise services in cemeteries as a sign of recognition that Jesus no longer lay in the tomb on Easter morning. The service starts early in the morning and is timed so that the attendants can see the sun rise when the service is going. — Wikipeda, “Sunrise Service”
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Now upon the first day of the week, very early in the morning, they came unto the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared, and certain others with them. And they found the stone rolled away from the sepulchre. And they entered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments: And as they were afraid, and bowed down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen: remember how he spake unto you when he was yet in Galilee, Saying, The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again. And they remembered his words, And returned from the sepulchre, and told all these things unto the eleven, and to all the rest.
There are bad weeks, and there are bad weeks. For a certain carpenter from Nazareth, the events leading up to Good Friday (April 3, 33 AD) could be considered the latter. Having entered Jerusalem to great fanfare the Sunday before (Palm Sunday), Jesus ended the week crucified by the desires of the corrupt officials He had preached against.
One of the Good Friday passages that ties in with Easter morning is John 19. In the fifth verse, Jesus is brought before Pilate and the court, and Pilate presents Jesus with the introduction “Behold the man!” The Latin for this is “ecce homo,” which is the title Ciseri used for this painting:
One of the messages of Easter morning is that each of us must personally “behold this man.” We can do as Pilate did, and judge without preconception, or we can do what the members of the crowd did, and allow our personal biases and actions to determine our position. Either way, we must choose.
But the most powerful message of Easter morning is the message of hope. Hope in the form of communion with God, since the veil has now been torn down, and hope of life beyond, since He who was dead is now alive– for evermore. For those who now seek the Master, remember that “He is not here, but is risen.” Amen.
I was born two dozen years ago today at 12:03 in the morning. I owe not being an April Fool’s baby to my papa… turns out he “took a wrong turn” on the way to the hospital, and delayed the C-section by 10 minutes or so. Seeing as this man never took a wrong turn in all the years I knew him– including the 10 years as a bus repairman and 5 years as a deliveryman– I happen to think it was intentional.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna go celebrate with some gunsmoke.
Four years ago, I lost my dad, and musing over the anniversary the past few days got me thinking on why I’m so different from the rest of my generation.
I think the best explanation is that I was raised by an older family… my dad was born in 1937, his dad was born in 1916, his mom in 1919. Mom was born in ’43, her mom in 1903, and her dad in 1891.
Most kids can’t remember the salient facts about World War II… my grandfather was exempt from the draft because he was too old. He raised his four younger brothers and sisters after their parents died, then raised five kids plus two orphans in the community– in a 3 bedroom 0 bath house.
My paternal grandfather lost his father before he was a year old, and was raised by a stepfather that believed that “spare the rod, spoil the child” worked in reverse– “use the rod, improve the child.” He narrowly missed fighting in WW2 (was on leave after basic when Hiroshima and Nagasaki were nuked), and went on to raise a family of nine kids.
I was raised by people who tamed this section of the country (my paternal grandmother was the child of an Indian mother and a trader father), worked the land, and raised families. They didn’t complain, they saw sweat as a positive thing, and they hated sloth. They did things themselves– building roads, building houses, making their food, repairing things that broke– and helped others in need.
So, when I see people my age so mentally weak… it triggers something in me. The other day after the ObamaCare vote, a guy my age called in to C-Span and said that his parents were happy that they could now carry him on their insurance because “they’re good parents… they don’t want me to die!” I’ve never physically seen red… until I heard that. I’m younger than this spoiled crotch-fruit, unemployed, and I provide my own insurance, my own vehicle and my own tuition.
Just think, people– an entire generation like this. I’ve heard stories of the “me” generation, but I’m finally starting to believe them…
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” – George Santayana
“How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been: how gloriously different are the saints.” – C. S. Lewis
Breda comments on the fact that recent events seem to be almost miraculous, but also fated to happen. Simply put, when a person is ignorant of history, their path is set. No matter how many turns they take, no matter how their pace changes… their endpoint is marked, and the only variable is how long it takes to get there.
To those of us who know their history, the path is clear… to quote Gator in the comments of Breda’s post: “now go back and re-read the first couple of paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence. It’ll make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.”
We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness—-That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient Causes; and accordingly all Experience hath shewn, that Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the Forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security. Such has been the patient Sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the Necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government.
With a few changes, the list of grievances could’ve been written yesterday. One line stands out, due to the fact that it rings so true now. “In every stage of these Oppressions we have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble Terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated Injury. A Prince, whose Character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the Ruler of a free People.”
I think that the Founders knew that they were effecting history, and even the very patterns of future events. Hopefully, we work under a rising, and not a setting sun.
No Brown celebration post. Meant to do one last night, but I laughed myself to sleep. A Republican Congressman from Massachusetts? HA! This seat hasn’t been held by a Republican since 1953, as Rustmeister points out. (For those of you curious, it was Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr.)
The past few years, I’ve found myself wondering if I’d entered a parallel universe. This just makes it worse. I’m halfway tempted to start asking people who the first man on the moon was. (Just to check, it was Leslie LeCroix, right?) Like Sebastian, I’m halfway expecting to wake up from a weird dream.
