What Would Jimmy Do?

Before I get off the subject of Harpers Ferry for a while, I have to mention St. Peters Catholic Church. When we have visitors and go to Harpers Ferry, we alway go to the church. Not only is it the most impressive structure in Harpers Ferry, it has been in continuous use since 1889. We’ve been to Mass there numerous times.

The church was built in Neo-Gothic style out of native stone. It was built in the early 1830s by land donated by Robert Harper. The building was restored and enlarged in 1889.

St. Peters was the only church in Harpers Ferry to survive the Civil War intact. The priest at the time, Father Costello, stayed at the church and wisely flew the British flag from the steeple when the armies shelled the town. Both sides, not wanting an international incident with England, aimed their shelling away from St. Peters.

At one time the church was used as a hospital and Father Costello helped care for the wounded. Like many places in Harpers Ferry, there have been reports of ghosts in and around the church. But the most fascinating story to me is that of a priest. The story has been repeated, pretty much the same, by many visitors. The steps going up to Jefferson Rock go right by St. Peters. Many visitors, on their way to Jefferson Rock, report seeing an old priest coming from the rectory wearing a black friars hat. The visitors say that they speak to the priest, but he never returns any of their greetings. They all agree that the priest turns and walks right through the doorless wall into the church. No one seems to know who he is or why he returns to St. Peters, but he is seen too frequently to doubt his visits.
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They say a word to the wise is sufficient…. today is not only Friday the 13th, and not only is there a full moon, but it’s a micro-moon full moon. That means that the moon is at its apogee (the highest point in its orbit) so it will appear smaller and will be dimmer. So if it seems a little more spooky out tonight….
I don’t know if any of this means anything or not — just sayin……
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Today is one of those days that we all remember. Just about everyone can tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing 18 years ago this morning. In anyone’s lifetime there are only a few events that are indelibly etched in their minds. For a lot of people, this will be one of them. Some of these events are really happy occasions — others, like today, are horrible.

Hopefully, there won’t be any more days like 9/11… the phrase “never forget” has become almost part of saying “9/11.” I’m pretty sure none of us that lived through it, will “never forget.”

But I think in some ways, “9/12” is more important than “9/11.” I remember that on 9/12 there were no Whites, Blacks, Mormons, Baptists, Catholics, rich, poor, Democrats or Republicans. On 9/12 there were only Americans. I remember after such a horrible 9/11, that in a completely different way, 9/12 turned out to be a pretty special day.

We will never forget 9/11, but let’s not forget 9/12…. wouldn’t it be great to have a lot more of those days?
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A number of years ago I attended a Satellite Communications course to learn about a new satellite system being built for our company. The course was several weeks long and during that time, we developed a class “logo.” All the items in the logo had a specific meaning for the 7 or 8 members of the class. One prominent figure was Mickey Mouse. Maybe sometime I’ll do an entry here explaining the rationale behind all the symbols — but for now let’s concentrate on Mickey.

One of the members of the class was Mike, who just happened to be a very good friend and was best man at our wedding. After the class had ended, Mike was assigned to Tokyo. While he was there, he decided to have coffee cups made with the logo we had come up with during the class on the front and our names on the back.

When Claire heard about this, she said she wanted a cup too. We tried to explain that the cups were being made only for members of the class — since she didn’t attend, she wasn’t eligible to get a cup. Well, that argument didn’t get very far, so Mike decided to have her a “special” cup made. At the time, Claire had long blond hair… so Mike’s plan was to have the logo on Claire’s cup have a picture of Mickey Mouse with long blond hair. We thought this would be pretty funny.

But it turns our that the shop in Tokyo that was making the cups refused to alter the logo by adding blond hair to Mickey Mouse.
I’m sure there were things then, and still are today, that are sacred in Japan — but who knew Mickey Mouse would be one of them. Despite many discussions, Mike gave up — the shop owners simply would not put blond hair on Mickey Mouse. So Mike told me that he couldn’t get Claire a cup and he just left it up to me to figure out how to tell Claire she wasn’t getting a cup.

But — when Mike went to pick up the cups, the shop had indeed made a cup for Claire. They had modified the logo, but not like we wanted…. they refused to put blond hair on Mickey — they just removed him entirely and replaced him with someone that looked more like Goldilocks.

You can check out the pictures — the top cup is mine with the original logo, the bottom picture shows Claire’s cup… the cups are now almost 50 years old. I wonder if that cup shop is still in business and if they would be more receptive giving Mickey a wig today?
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I saw a sign recently that said, “Feel Free to Pick My Weeds.” It occurred to me that I’ve never used the term, “pick weeds.” I alway say, “pull weeds.” I use the term “pick” with flowers — I pick flowers, I don’t pull them. Well, of course that got me to wondering….. does it really matter whether you use pick or pull? Probably not, but I figured…. maybe some extensive research? You bet.

I first headed to the dictionary and both pick and pull have pretty extensive (and varied) definitions.
Pick
(1) to choose (something deliberately or carefully, former as if from a group or number; select
(2) to provoke (an argument, fight, etc.) deliberately
(3) a person, thing, etc., that is chosen first or preferred
Pull
(1) an act of taking hold of something and exerting force to draw it toward one
(2) move in a specified direction with effort
(3) cancel or withdraw (an entertainment or advertisement)

So based on just the definition(s) of the words, my use of the terms seems more correct.
When you pick flowers, you are only taking (choosing) part of the plant (the pretty part) and the remainder of the plant is left to continue to grow.
When you pull weeds, the intent is to remove the whole plant, including its roots, so it won’t grow. Obviously in your yard, you can pick or pull weeds if that’s what you want, but in my yard, weeds get pulled — and we pick flowers. End of discussion…..
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Harpers Ferry has come up in conversation a few times lately, and before the subject gets out of my mind, I thought I’d discuss a couple of my favorite Harper Ferry stories.
All the little towns around here survived the Civil War and maybe because of that bloody time, almost every town has its share of ghost stories. There’s even a TV series, “The Ghosts of Shepherdstown.” If you’re into ghosts, it’s worth watching.

But anyhow, back to Harpers Ferry…
On the night of October 16th, 1859, John Brown and twenty-one brave men attempted to strike a blow against slavery. Their objective was to capture the guns stored in the armory in Harpers Ferry. John Brown believed that the slaves in the area would join them and together they would retreat to the nearby mountains. Using the mountains as a fortress, they would train slaves to use the guns and make raids deeper into the South, to free more slaves. The raiders ultimate goal was to make it unprofitable  for slavery to exist. They hoped to create a separate state in the Shenandoah Valley for the newly freed Blacks. They intended to hold out until the government recognized the rights of all men.

As it turned out, a freed Black, Hayward Shepherd, was the first man killed in the raid. Shepherd’s death deterred other blacks that would have joined and the raid was doomed. By noon on the 17th, Brown and his raiders were pinned down in the fire engine house, along with their hostages. The standoff continued throughout the day. Five of the raiders had managed to escape earlier, ten raiders were killed in the firefight at the fire engine house and six were captured. All those captured were brought to trial in Charles Town, charged with treason against the Commonwealth of Virginia, and inciting slaves to rebel. All were found guilty and sentenced to hang.

It was during John Brown’s trial that he succeeded in making the world aware of the whole moral issue of slavery. After the trial of John Brown, almost no one could remain neutral on the slavery issue and eighteen months later, the nation was plunged into civil war.
Ok, that’s all background — here’s the interesting story…..

John Brown was willing to die for the cause he loved — maybe so much so that his ghost may live on.
A few years ago, it was noticed that a man strongly resembling John Brown was walking the streets of Harper Ferry, and because of his appearance, visitors to the park asked him to pose for pictures with them. When multiple pictures were developed, by different people, the family members were clear, but there was no sign of the John Brown look-alike.
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Some of you long-time readers may remember that nine years ago I mentioned the arrival of the what was then the newest member of our family. If you don’t remember, you can go back and read the article from 2010.

I noted that Emily weighed 7 pounds (exactly) and was 21 inches long — and — if you divide 7 into 21 you get 3 which just happens to be the date she was born and my favorite number. If you’re into numerology, or not, to continue this saga, we now have 3 granddaughters… and it’s still my favorite number.

But play with numbers all you like, she’s no ordinary nine year old and she’ll alway be NUMBER ONE in my book. Happy Birthday Emily!!!
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Last night was a very special night at our house. As some of you know, we observe OTBN every month. Last night we celebrated OTBN CL (for those of you who are not Romans or Super Bowl fans, that’s 150 times we’ve observed our special night.)

Most of you know the story, but in case one of the spammers actually reads this blog, here’s a summation: The idea came from the “Tastings” column of the Wall Street Journal. The gist of the article is that everyone has a special bottle of wine they’re saving for a special occasion, but never get around to opening it. The article declared the last Saturday night in February Open That Bottle Night (OTBN) and suggested that everyone should just open that special bottle.

We celebrated our first OTBN the last Saturday night of February, 2007, and thought it was such a great idea, we’ve celebrated it the last Saturday night of EVERY month since that Saturday night in February of 2007.

OTBN is basically just about us — we have something to eat, light candles that are older than most readers of this blog, and talk and listen to each other. And last night was the 150th time we’ve carried out that ritual. It’s never gotten old, and we still look forward to it. Over the years, the subjects we’ve discussed have ranged from serious to funny — sometimes both at the same time. Sometimes OTBN lasts for hours… sometimes it’s fairly short. But it’s our time together… make that our special time together. I think I’ve said it before, but if you look forward to spending time with someone and you can share a good bottle of wine on top of it, it just doesn’t get much better.

Here’s to OTBN CL — and the next CL….
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Well, here it is September already…. On September 1, 1939, Germany invaded Poland — thus the beginning of World War II. During the years of that war, the world learned a lot. Most everyone agreed that the world should take steps to prevent history from repeating itself, and that World War II should truly be the war to end all wars.

Actually, we’ve done pretty well… we certainly haven’t ended all wars, but there have been multiple times that World War III has been prevented. Reading the news lately, a few people draw comparisons to situations and actions that are remarkably similar to those that existed in 1939.

One concern that I have is that most of the people that lived and experienced the events of the late 1930s and early 1940s are now gone, and the “newer” generations appear to possibly be headed down the same road again.

I still have faith that cooler heads will prevail and we won’t repeat the mistakes we made in the past again. Maybe there should be a “World Office” whose responsibilities are to document — like a cookbook with directions — of all major events, and what was done right and what was done wrong. That book should be mandatory reading for all world leaders every year.

Anyhow, for today, let’s all remember September 1, 1939 and keep our fingers crossed that it never happens again.
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When Kelly was in high school, she played on the Paul VI softball team. Let me preface this story by saying they had a very good team.

I attended all the games I could and one afternoon the game was moving along smoothly and I’d guess it may have been maybe the 3rd or 4th inning and Paul VI had taken the field. There were probably one or two outs, when suddenly, the right fielder came running in screaming, “Time out! Time out!” Well that startled everyone and the coach ran out to see what the problem was… maybe she had been stung by a bee or bitten by a snake or something like that. When she reached the infield, she said, “I forgot my glove.”

I have absolutely no idea why I thought of that, but it was funny at the time. Still is.
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