"Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ."
Dietrich Bonhoffer
Norm's Daily Ramblins
"THOSE WERE THE DAYS, MY FRIEND..." AND SO ARE THESE!
GROWING UP IN WISCONSIN -- EVERY SINGLE “ONE” WAS
“THE GREATEST FOURTH OF JULY!”
Each year at this time, my memory bank opens up a special pigeon-hole and out flows the joys of celebrating the birthday anniversary of our country as noisy and as dependable as Fibber McGee's closet.
I remember so clearly standing on our pier at Beaver Lake in 1948, lighting and throwing cherry bombs into the water. Some of you will remember cherry bombs, no longer legal anywhere in the U.S., had a waterproof plastic wick that allowed it to sink a couple of feet before igniting like a depth charge with a deep Baaaarooop! -- and a giant bubble full of smoke would break the lake's surface.
The sound of firecrackers could be heard all day long around the lake and we did our part making noise with four brothers and two sisters trying all kinds of creative things as we awaited nightfall and the beauty of chemical color that the mortars and skyrockets would provide.
During the war we had difficulty getting punk to light the firecrackers so we used a six-inch piece of frayed cotton clothesline and kept it glowing by blowing on it. Another year, I was probably 12 or 13, we thought we’d be cool and justify the presence of a cigarette in our fingers, explaining that we were using it to light firecrackers. When we were told that you have to drag on the cigarette to keep it lit, our parents torpedoed our cool plan of blatant mischievousness.
Speaking of torpedoes – do you remember them? They were white and about the size of a malted-milk ball or a mothball. My brothers cherished the four and five inch “cannon crackers” (Yes, there used to be firecrackers that large.) But my favorite sound maker was the “torpedo.” When you threw one against a hard surface – like a brick wall or a cement sidewalk – it would explode with gusto. Torpedoes were awesomely loud until they began to downsize them for safety reasons. We used to waste them by trying to throw them to the pavement from the window of a moving car. We finally figured out that the horizontal speed of the car negated the vertical speed of our throw so it just plopped on the pavement. With the speed my brother was driving his 1938 souped up and channeled Mercury convertible, I wouldn’t have heard the explosion anyway -- even if the physics of the project were correct.
The ban on public use of fireworks in Wisconsin in the 1950's was a sad day for my brothers and me. Why should the "pros" be allowed to have all the fun? By not banning fireworks, South Carolina produced the well-known "South of the Border" fireworks mega supermarket on I-95 that still sells millions of dollars of colorful explosive displays. And what about the huge operations on I-24 east of Chattanooga and the superstores in South Carolina on I-85? It’s just a short trip for clandestine Atlantans to acquire their celebration hardware and software in a short drive. And that doesn't even take in the state of Texas, Florida and others who are allowed to sell and use these wonderful noisemakers. I just learned that fireworks are now legal in Georgia as long as. whatever it is, does not fly higher than 20 feet -- so small firecrackers, pinwheels, and fountains can now be legally used in 2005 for the first time. Residents can now do what I've seen them do for the past 45 years in Atlanta.
In Georgia, many will continue to celebrate illegally with bottle rockets, small mortars, repeating aerial reports, and legally with Black Cat Salutes, fountains, flares, and pinwheels at Fourth of July, New Years Eve, and often Christmas week.
"My three sons" used to be the entertainment center of Gainesbourgh West, right off the north loop of I-285. It seemed like the neighbors were always ready and waiting for the Plunkett boy’s semi-annual, creative interpretations of light, sound and smell. The response from the neighbors in applause and cheering was often as loud as the presentation.
If you’re a boomer or older, chances are you look back on your “Fourth of Julys” with special fondness because of family picnics and the anticipation of what usually happened during the day’s celebration. Oh, for sure, kids and families still enjoy the celebration today as they establish their own memories, but it's from a whole different perspective.
The “Fourth” was always the highlight of summer for me. I'm sure many of us thought about the freedom we enjoy and were grateful for this unique country many times during the year -- especially with the lasting events of WW2 clearly etched in our minds and hearts and the immense loss of men and women in the military. But I’m also sure in actuality, since the majority of us had not been touched by a personal loss, that we were more grateful for the one chance a year we had to specifically celebrate the founding of our country – a unique nation founded on faith in God and biblical principles.
Last year, Mary and I listened to David McCullough’s John Adams audio book as we drove across the country. It’s was a wonderful, enlightening experience. Not only were we reminded about what was involved in the formation and establishment of America, but more specifically the role John and Abigail Adams and other leaders played in that real-life drama. The importance of God for each of them is so evident in history and in their writings. It was this faith in their Creator God and his son, Jesus Christ that impacted all of life for those who formed our nation. Everything they did revolved around a deep faith and commitment to their Creator God. You might say that God was not prominent in their lives, but preeminent – meaning not just "First," but "First" in every area of their life. We are probably going to do the same thing with McCullough's new book on George Washington. I highly recommend it.
I’ve been an “old guy” for sometime now so I won't be messing around with explosives. But I did just get back from Florida and have some fountains, sparklers, pin wheels and some half-inch Lady Fingers you can light and hold with your fingers while it goes off – which was a sign of great personal male virility when I was a pre-teen.. (Make sure that you’re holding the Lady Finger with your thumb and forefinger AND only at the extreme bottom tip of the Lady Finger!)
Dad's favorites were fireworks at night. As soon as it was dark and there was an audience of family and friends, he would ignite two Roman Candles in each hand moving them in a circular motion. For years I thought Dad’s conductor movements were the reason the colored, flaming balls escaped the three-foot tube spreading an impressive arc of color out over the water.
Dad seemed to always have trouble with pinwheels. They would be nailed to the Cottonwood trees next to the beach at Beaver Lake, but for some reason the pinwheel would get hung up before burning out and stop after a rapid blazing start. If not that, I remember when not all three of the powder tubes would fire up so the pinwheel would just sit there with one colorful jet taking it nowhere.
Dad’s "piece of resistance" was the six-inch mortars he paid $5.00 apiece for! And $5 in the late 1940’s was a whole lotta money. These mini-bombs required a two or three-foot launching tube that had half of it sunk into beach sand. He would light the 16-inch fuse, and all of us would excitedly watch the fuse burn up to the rim of the tube and then disappear. Suddenly, with sparks flying, the mortar would roar out of the tube with a loud FA-THWAP!
Out and up, the flying bomb would travel over the lake resulting in an explosion and shower of color that would generate "ahhhhhhhhs!" and applause from the small lakeside audience. Dad usually had ten to fifteen mortars (sky rockets) and they were carefully and reverently ignited one at a time. It was much too long a pause between explosions for a ten-year old boy, but Dad wanted us to appreciate the excitement and beauty of each gunpowder sky painting. Like Jean Shepherd's Dad, my father was in his glory. During the 1940’s, Dad conducted a mean fireworks show every Fourth whether it was our church picnic out at Utica Lake in Dousman or a family gathering at Beaver Lake.
Now the grandsons have assumed the “heavy responsibility” of maintaining the continuity of “meaningful” family traditions in this constantly changing world.
Jon is traveling to Wisconsin to be part of a Fourth of July pyrotechnic show. Grandpa Plunkett would be so proud of the show they put on up in Waupaca. If you’re interested in seeing a video of their show in 2003, we have provided a Flash presentation for fireworks aficionados. Click the link below.
Chris is back in his beloved Uinta Wilderness and Flaming Gorge Resevoir where he's working once again as a hydrologist. "Dad, I have to do a quality check on the Green River and do it in a canoe. Tough job, eh?" I'm sure he will celebrate the Fourth of July creatively and not endanger the forest.
Norm Jr., who's now 47, Mary and I will hold the fort on East Nancy Creek in Atlanta and maybe hold a couple of Lady Fingers and light a pinwheel.
The links I've provided below are really sensational, especially the Nova and Zambelli sites. On the Zambelli site you can design your own fireworks show with sound on their DESKTOP page.
"Those were the days, my friend!” We never ever thought they'd end! But they certainly did and will for you too.
And you young parents, "These ARE the days, my friend!" And you know they'll end -- so enjoy! Sure hope when this Fourth of July is over, it will be one that added to the memory bank of all those you love.
IN HONOR OF MOM ON HER 100TH BIRTHDAY, WE ARE RUNNING KATE SMITH, HER'S AND MEREDITH'S FAVORITE SINGER. Be sure to click the audio link above before you read further. This audiocassette tape arrived on an afternoon that my wife Nancy had to go to her oncologist for a ProCrit shot and check-up. On those days I would wait in the car. While waiting that hot summer day in August 2001, I put the Carnagie Hall tape in the player. I had not heard Kate Smity's voice for 40 yearsexcept the televised Philadelphia Flyer hockey games a few years ago. When the tape stared I was stunned... so many memories raced through my mind and I cried through the whole concert. I hope that you are old enough for this Ramblin' audio to, if not bring a tear at least make you stop a moment and remember how incredible the gift of life is no matter what we have to face. Now here's Kate's
minibio.
"KATE SMITH." The mention of her name still evokes a warm feeling of nostalgia in the hearts of millions who are old enough recall Kate and her thrilling renditions of popular ballads -- and her powerful, outgoing personality and infectious laughter. Her autographed publicity photo shown here is a prized part of my radio memorabilia collection.
An untiring patriot, Kate Smith was honored by every President from Roosevelt, who called her an "American treasure", to Reagan, who gave her the highest civilian award in the nation, the Medal of Freedom. During the Second World War, she was personally credited with selling six hundred million dollars in Defense Bonds. Do you have any idea of what $ 600,000,000 was in the early 1940's?
Kate was called the "First Lady of Song" or "America's Southern Songbird" by her peers. Voted one of the three most beloved and important women of her time, Kate Smith was the very embodiment of the American spirit and an inspiration to millions everywhere. Her popularity and her music transcended a half century, all the way from vaudeville to soft rock. She introduced over six hundred popular songs. Yes, you read correctly -- 600 popular songs! More than twenty of her records were million sellers -- back in a culture when selling a million records really meant something.
As a true pioneer in both radio and television, her importance as a public personality is unsurpassed in the annals of broadcasting history. She is undeniably an American original! Can you believe that Kate Smith was more powerful as leader, entertainer, and spokesperson for all America than any one since including Ophra Winfrey, Sen. Hillary Clinton, or Condalisa Rice. Hard to believe, but it's very true.
Kate had been making records since 1926 but was discovered in 1930 by Columbia Records vice president Ted Collins, who became her partner and manager who developed her public career which included her radio programs. Kate was an immediate success on radio and she soon broke the record for the number of continous performances at the legendary Palace Theatre.
She soon had the most popular radio variety program, The Kate Smith Hour, which aired weekly from 1937-45. At the same time she had the No. 1 daytime radio show, the midday Kate Smith Speaks, a news and commentary program. Everyone listened to this show which she did with her agent, sidekick, and beloved friend, Ted Collins. She talked about issues before talk radio, gave the editorialized news, entertained and interviewed guests. In 1950 Kate entered television with a Monday-Friday afternoon variety show, The Kate Smith Hour (1950-54). It proved so popular that NBC gave her a prime-time show on Wednesday evenings, The Kate Smith Evening Hour. Her last TV series was CBS’s The Kate Smith Show, a weekly half-hour musical series in 1960.
Kate's biggest hits were River, Stay ’Way From My Door (1931), The Woodpecker Song (1940), The White Cliffs of Dover (1941), I Don’t Want to Walk Without You (1942), There Goes That Song Again (1944), Seems Like Old Times (1946), and Now Is the Hour (1947).
Her theme song was "When the Moon Comes Over the Mountain," whose lyrics she helped write. Irving Berlin regarded the song she made most famous, "God Bless America," as his most important composition. In 1938 Kate predicted that the song would still be sung long after all of us are gone—and it surely will.
In the fifties and sixties, she began making LP albums, with such best sellers as Kate Smith at Carnegie Hall (1963), How Great Thou Art (1965), and America’s Favorites: Kate Smith/Arthur Fiedler/Boston Pops (1967). You can hear the entire Kate Smith at Carnagie Hall on Norm's Radio. My prize collection of "mint" LP albums includes all of Kate Smith's albums from the 1950's and 1960's as well as many of her 78's and some of the sheet music that used to be on every piano. I also have a full collection of Guy Lombardo, Wayne King, and Fred Waring LP's. I'd be honored to send you a CD of some of them. All you need to do is send me your address and I'll get one off to you.
Kate was a regular part of the home I grew up in -- we had her receipe books, 78rpm records, sheet music, books, listened to her radio programs, and watched her television shows. Her photo was in all the magazines and on billboards endorsing various products as Michael Jordon or Tiger Woods are today.
Kate Smith has a passion for wood inboard boats. I knew that as a boy as I knew that Guy Lombardo was a champion speedboat driver and owner. Kate owned a 1929 Chris Craft and loved it. As I remember she had it on a lake in upstate New York and was photographed with it often. Restoration Hardware had one of the photos some five years ago AND I DIDN'T BUY IT? I found a great photograph on the Internet that was made possible by Kate's official web site and association. I have a link to it below.
Kate Smith had a voice you never forgot once you heard it. Be sure to click the audio above and listen to 30 minutes of her 1968 concert in Carnagie Hall. It will introduce the youngun's to a jewel they missed. And to those who know....? a wonderful moment of memory and maybe a tear or two.
Enjoy the links we have provided below for your web surfing pleasure:
A time of early struggle. Yes, it's the LaPalina Cigar Show
The "Shady Lady" on Lake Placid, NY -her pride and joy. Click to enlarge.
Kate having fun on a tobaggan and in the driver's seat as usual.
Norm's Daily Ramblins
I Didn't Know He Had a Cousin - just as luny and funny.
Harvey Nowland, my old time friend from Milwaukee and seminary classmate,
has submitted many hilarious letters to Norm's Ramblins -- much to our enjoyment.
Here's another one. Harvey's website is linked for you below.
Letter dated June 20, 2006
Dear mR. norman@normsradio.com
Probaly you donnot know me very goodbut my cousin is all the time writng to you and I thought I would writee to you to becauwe I am a writer whitch I don’t supppos I have to tell you as how I’m writing to you write now. Now I donnot like to say so but my cuosiin wrtes you some pretty hardf stuff an I can tell you that he is that way if evenits his own kinfolks what hes writingto. But you canseeso I donnot heva totel you thatg I amd notthatsort of person what my cuision is and I have my gift of being a writerperson what is to make other poeopl feel good about there ownselfs.
I suupppoose if I hadalived in them old days they woul have to have called me one of them troopadoors but I don’t like to brag all that much. Anyways what I was getting at wa to send you the here list of my musicing, because as you could imagine sometimes the muse comes as they say upon me. Being as how im’m a honest writer person I’f have to be the first oneperson that would have to admit that nopt allof them muisicings are my actual own.
Some I heard someplace else and some I read someplace else and some other I don't remember but infact most of them anint mine but that don’t count nohow as they is all pretty interesting and I think some people will learn a lot about them things of life from this here list what I’ms sending you and like some of them other writer persons say ainit life grand. So her is the list and I think you are goning to say just like I said when I firset seen this here list I said dang but ain them good. So with or without no futher talk, here that list is.
yOUr new friend Warren T (call me T-bone) Wiggins
================================
Letter received June 16, 2006 from Warren "T-Bone" Wiggin's cousin, old friend and former contributor to Norm's Ramblins -- Lester Joe Reed.
Dear mr norman@normsradio.com,
I seen were as you go a letttttr from my cuosin Warren T WIggins. WHat he ain't told you was he was sendinn thjat lettrr to you from jail. He's down there to SOUth georga at that ther what yoiu call penal place and he ain't about to git hisself out. You might be thinkin hees some kind frined but I can tel you he's ben my cuoSin a hole lot longer that what he's been your frend and you better count your fingers when he shakes yuor hand.
So faras being one a them troopadoors, he don't know what that is an probably thinks he's a gorgia staate tropper or som thing of the kind. SUre, you can call him T-Bone, thats what all the prisoners over there to Reedsvil in tATnal cuonty calls him and you can call that wardeen over ther and check to see about that. If yuo want to put them liues what ol T-boNE tells you in that that ther Norms thing a yores, well then thats yiour own hurt then. Besides I''d just say you was dum as dirt for prinnnting his stuff there at yor weebsite
dONnot blame me as for none a this.
Lester Joe Reed
Idle Reflections of an Ideally Idyllic Idol Adulator
· I planted some birdseed. A bird came up. Now I don’t know what to feed it.
· I had amnesia once – or was it twice.
· I went to San Francisco. I found someone’s heart. Now what?
· They told me I was gullible and I believed them.
· Two can live as cheaply as one – for about half as long.
· Experience is the thing you have left when every thing else is gone.
· What if there were no hypothetical questions?
· The shampoo promised me extra body – I gained three pounds.
· One nice thing about egotists: They don’t talk about other people.
· A flashlight is a case for holding dead batteries.
· My weight is perfect for my height – which varies.
· I used to be indecisive. Now I’m not sure.
· The cost of living hasn’t affected its popularity.
· How can there be self-help “groups”?
· Is there another word for synonym?
· Where do forest rangers go to “get away from it all”?
· The speed of time is one-second per second.
· Is it possible to be completely partial?
· What’s another word for thesaurus?
· Is Marx’s tomb in a communist plot?
· If swimming is so good for your figure, how do you explain whales?
· It’s not an optical illusion. It just looks like one.
· Is it my imagination, or do buffalo wings taste like chicken?
· Show me a man with both feet firmly on the ground, and I’ll show you a man
---- who can’t get his pants off.
· Teach a child to be polite and courteous in the home and, when he grows up,
-----he’ll never be able to merge his car onto a freeway.
I'm absolutely convinced that nothing -- nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable -- ABSOLUTELY NOTHING -- can get between us and God's love!
Why? Because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us in his loving, cross proven, blood based, forgiveness. (I elaborated on that last sentence to make it clear for me. NP)
Romans 8:38-39 The Message Bible, Nav Press. Colorado Springs, CO.
Think there “oughta be a law?” Well perhaps there already is!
There are some intriguing, bizarre, and anachronistic laws already “in the books” - passed by state, city, and national governments. We've listed some of them below just so you could see some of the strange -and strangely specific- regulations that supposedly still stand in various communities.
As an example, the site lists that in Georgia…
-It is illegal to use profanity in front of a dead body, which lies in a funeral home or in a coroner’s office.
-Donkeys may not be kept in bathtubs.
-No one may carry an ice cream cone in his or her back pocket if it’s a Sunday. (I suppose, the day not the dessert.)
And, of course…
-Members of the state assembly cannot be ticketed for speeding while the state assembly is in session.
Some of the more “colorful” statutes and blue laws for various towns in Georgia are as follows…
In Acworth, all citizens must own a rake.
In Atlanta, it’s against the law to tie a giraffe to a telephone pole or street lamp.
In Marietta, citizens may spit from a truck, but never from a car or bus!
At Nickajack Elementary School in Cobb County, all peanut products are banned, including peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
In Columbus, citizens are forbidden from carrying a chicken by its feet down Broadway on Sunday or cutting off a chicken's head on Sunday.
In Gainesville, that chicken must be eaten with the hands.
And in Quitman, (Sunday or no Sunday) it’s illegal for a chicken to… “cross the road,” of course!
Finally, in the no-nonsense “police state” of Dublin Georgia, rocks may not be thrown at birds, it is illegal to play catch in any city street, cars may not be driven through playgrounds, and a person must obtain a permit to spread rat poison.
To see where your state/nation/locality/etc. stands in the quirky-law department, try visiting the website by clicking on the link below. –CP 6/9/03
DON'T WORRY MOM AND DAD. EVERYTHING IS FINE -- REALLY!
We posted this “parent’s-worst-nightmare” letter from a boy-scout named “Johnny” over a year ago. Unfortunately we don’t know who wrote the original piece, but our congratulations to them just the same. Jared Ponchot brought it to our attention. I think it’s hilarious, and I'm quite sure you will think so too! Summer camps are not far away but maybe you'll forget all this by then.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Our scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw the flood on TV and are worried. We are OK. Only one of our tents and 2 sleeping bags got washed away. Luckily, none of us got drowned because we were all up on the mountain looking for Chad when it happened. Oh yeah, please call Chad's mother and tell her he’s OK. He can't write because of the cast.
I got to ride in one of the search and rescue jeeps. It was sure neat. We never would have found him in the dark if it hadn't been for the lightning. Scoutmaster Walt got mad at Chad for going on a hike alone without telling anyone. Chad said he did tell him, but it was during the fire so he probably didn't hear him. Did you know that if you put gas on a fire, the gas can blows up? The wet wood still didn't burn, but one of the tents did. Also, some of our clothes. John is going to look weird until his hair grows back.
We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Walt gets the car fixed. It wasn't his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked OK when we left. Scoutmaster Walt said that a car that old you have to expect something to break down; that's probably why he can't get insurance. We all think it's a neat car. He doesn't care if we get it dirty, and if it's hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the fenders! It gets pretty hot with 10 people in a car. He used to let us take turns riding in the trailer until the highway patrolman stopped and talked to us. Scoutmaster Walt is a neat guy. Don't worry, he’s a good driver. In fact, he is teaching Terry how to drive on the mountain roads where there isn't any traffic. All we ever see up there are logging trucks.
This morning us guys were diving off the rocks and swimming out in the lake. Scoutmaster Walt wouldn't let me go with them cause I still can't swim, and Chad was afraid he would sink because of his cast, so he let us take the canoe across the lake. It was great. You can still see some of the trees under the water from the flood. Scoutmaster Walt isn't crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn't even get mad about us having no life jackets.
He’s gotta spend a lot of time working on the car so we’re trying not to cause him any trouble. Guess what? We’ve all passed our first aid merit badges. When Dave dove in the lake and cut his arm, we got to see how a tourniquet works.
Wade and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Walt said it probably was just food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they got sick that way with the food they ate in prison. I'm so glad he got out and became our scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out how to get things done better while he was doing his time. I have to go now. We’re going to town to mail our letters and buy bullets. Don't worry about anything. We are so fine!
Love, Johnny
P.S. How long has it been since I had a tetanus shot?
We have to run this article again just to remind those who have already read it to be aware of the heroes we are losing at an exponentially increasing rate. And those who have not seen the article before.... I want you to take the time to link into an incredible story of a Veteran's Hospital physician in San Antonio, Texas, Capt. Steven Ellison, who is keenly aware of the many men and women of WW2 who are leaving us at an ever increasing and exponential rate.
Some say the men and women who grew up during the depression and served in WW2 are anywhere from 75 to 90 years of age and leaving this time and space dimension at the rate of nearly 1,500 a day... that's over 10,000 a week
We need to realize what is happening. I remember when there were still Civil War Veterans and Spanish American War Veterans. All the WW1's are gone and this generation is the next. I want to thank my niece, Christine Shaw, who lives in Flagstaff, AZ for sending this simple, sincere, and moving website.
Click the first link below to read and listen to a moving story and photographs that this Doctor has put together. Then click the second link that will allow you to listen to some excellent radio excerpts from WW2.
Below is an excellent story by Ronnie Thomas, a reporter for the Decatur Daily, Decatur Alabama. It's about "one of those special people" we are losing. The story was written for last fall's Veteran's Day.
Wallace Willingham was 65 years old before he began to say much about his experiences in World War II. And then it was only at the prodding of his children. As youngsters, they tore apart their father's book about the Army's 87th Infantry Division, hoping to learn at least something of what their dad endured, after he balked at their questions.
"Were you ever shot at?" they would ask.
"Sometimes," he'd say.
So that his grandchildren and great-grandchildren also would know what he did in the war, he gathered a cache of old material, including maps, newspaper clippings, letters and photographs from storage to show them. The framed documents now occupy a place of honor on a den wall of his Betty Street Southwest home. As American soldiers battle insurgents in Iraq, the retired minister prays for them, and he honors them. He bonds with them, too, and he believes they are as much of a "greatest generation" as he was.
And he realizes that some toss "hero" about loosely. "A hero is one who does what needs to be done, when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences," he said. "Our men and women in Iraq are heroes."
The Army drafted Willingham, now 78, out of Jacksonville High School in 1944 as an 11th-grader. He said he could have gotten a deferment because of farming, but he was ready to go.
"Anyway, who could have imagined a Depression-era Alabama farm boy getting a ride on the Queen Mary?" he said.
The luxury ship that the Allies transformed to a troop carrier docked in Scotland. In January 1945, Willingham crossed the English Channel to Le Havre, France. His unit pushed into Belgium, where fierce fighting continued in the aftermath of the major German offensive at Bastogne, known as the Battle of the Bulge.
While holding a position on a hillside in Saint-Hubert, west of Bastogne, Willingham watched famed Gen. George S. Patton Jr. riding in a jeep, reviewing the troops. Later, as Willingham's unit prepared to join the attack on the Siegfried Line — Adolph Hitler's fortification along the French and German border — Patton came for a speech to the commanders of several divisions of his 3rd Army, to "tell them what we were going to be facing." Willingham said Patton noted, "We're going to Berlin and raise the American flag, but there will be some dog tags brought back."
Willingham recounted a somewhat humorous incident that occurred near the Mosel River when he and fellow scout John Sherrer of Queens, N.Y., and four others went on patrol to nab a German soldier to interrogate about troop movements.
"It was dark, and we came upon an older fellow dressed in a uniform," he said. "We returned to camp with a local firefighter. A newspaper account ran the headline, '87th captures fire department.' But our officers told us not to fret, that he was as good as an SS trooper in giving us what we needed. We took him back, thanked him and released him."
On another patrol, Willingham and another soldier walked down a road when an 88 mm shell dropped between them. "We would have been gone for sure, but luckily, it was a dud," he said. "All I could think of at the moment was that mother had me on a prayer list at church. And I pressed the little Gideon Bible that I carried in my jacket pocket closer."
Nicknamed "Tuffy" by the men in his platoon, the scrappy Willingham crossed the Rhine River near Rheims, Germany, on March 25, 1945, his 19th birthday.
"As we fought to hold our ground, and it became more desperate for the Germans the tougher the war became," he said, "we faced five counterattacks, at times the enemy coming at us with fixed bayonets that involved some hand-to-hand combat."
Willingham's outfit drove south of Berlin and pushed to the Czechoslovakian border, where they met Russian soldiers. The war in Europe ended in May 1945, and after a 30-day leave, Willingham prepared to be a part of the force that would invade Japan. But atomic bombs dropped on two Japanese cities in early August forced surrender the next month.
Only after he felt that his mission was complete did Willingham seek help for frostbite, which he suffered in one of his legs fighting during the bitter winter. He spent the last months of 1945 in a hospital at Camp Atterberry, Ind., near Indianapolis, where the Army discharged him.
Among his medals is the Bronze Star, which he received "for meritorious achievement in ground combat against an armed enemy."
Returning home, Willingham sought to continue service to others and became a Church of God of Prophecy minister in 1949. A year later, while preaching at a revival in Decatur, he met his future wife, the former Bennie Lumpkin. They have been married 53 years. Mr. Willingham, and all the other men and women like him..... THANKS from a grateful American living free in 2006.
Close friend, Harvey Warner, sent this unbelievable, moving experience that is appropriate to show on Memorial Day. Thank you GSS Distributing and T. Cleege whomever and wherever you are. Be sure to turn you speakers on for "Homeward Bound" from "The Road Home" sung by the choirs of Bringham Young University.
These are not the photos you are shown by the "drive-by" media that is so intent on discrediting the President and his administration, they just don't want to show photos like this.
If you don't have to catch your breath a time or two or shed a tear.... you apparently are not able to feel much.
We're always honored by visitors. We do our best to provide new information on this "Ramblin" page ... and leave some of the stuff we think is extra good a little longer than the others. Please visit again.
We'd enjoy hearing from you. Drop us a note. We'd enjoy knowing you're visitin.' To do so, click the "Drop Us A Note" link right below.
We extend to you an old Southern salutation you don't hear much any more down here.... "Ya'll come back now, ya'hear?"
Norman Plunkett
God is good -- ALWAYS!
And especially as He floods you with all the grace you need no matter what the situation. As you trust Him, God's grace is always just enough and always on time.
