SLANDEROUS NEWS

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The media today has had to prove themselves accountable for each story they put out there.  The fact that news is no longer really edited until after the fact, leaves their stories full of holes and often untruths.  The term “fake news” goes back a long way.  Even in the days of the supposedly beacons of news reporting, like Walter Cronkite, Huntley & Brinkley and Edward R. Murrow, there were those who tended to bend the truth to sensationalize a story.

I took some journalism classes in college which taught the necessity of the five “W’s,” the who, what, where, when and why questions which had to be answered to get at the truth.  Somehow, those basic facts are no longer enough for the public.  They relish hearing the motivation behind – the possible reasons – the unreal – the gossip and the second hand accounts before making judgments.  Now with instant news raging across our internet, there is little time to fact check and often the untruths become truth in lieu of meeting a deadline,

In 1897, Walter Winchell was born in New York.  He made a living reporting embarrassing stories about work associates in Vaudeville, writing bits and pieces about men in organized crime and even became involved in the McCarthy hearings which opened a witch hunt of almost everyone in the entertainment business.

He began his career in Vaudeville when he left the sixth grade.  There sure didn’t seem to be a great emphasis on education in those days.  While performing in a group called the Newsboys Sextet, which also included actor George Jessel. He began his career as a gossip columnist by writing notes about his fellow performers and posting them on the bulletin board.  He was hired in 1929 by the New York Daily Mirror, to write a daily gossip column.  Apparently folks were into fake news, big time in the nineteen twenties too.

In the thirties, Winchell had a lot of connections in the underworld of the prohibition.  Fearing that he might be rubbed out for knowing too much, so he fled to California.  He returned only a few weeks later with a new zeal for all things American – The FBI – organized crime – the Lindbergh Kidnapping case – things people wanted to read or hear about.  During this time, he was responsible for turning Louis Lepke Buchalter of Murder, Inc. over to J. Edgar Hoover.

Winchell did a weekly radio and television broadcast in the 1950s.  Because of his Jewish heritage and the atrocities towards Jews in Germany during WWII, he connected with McCarthy to fight against Communism in America.  He soon lost favor with the American public and his popularity declined.

His own personal life included a marriage that lasted only a short time – a son who later committed suicide, a daughter who died of pneumonia and another daughter who was declared mentally unstable.  She was the only one at his grave site on the day of his funeral.  Winchell died in February, 1972 in Los Angeles, California.

“Winchell was a good newspaperman but a vain man, convinced he could change the course of world events — slightly deluded, but never mind. He also fancied himself a ladies’ man.”Lauren Bacall.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WALTER WINCHELL!

 

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SPRING FEVER FUNNIES

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THE FLIGHT OF THE RED BARON

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Most of us have heard of the Red Baron of World War I through the antics of Charles Schulz cartoon character, Snoopy.  The persistent beagle dons his leather pilot’s helmet, goggles and white silk scarf, ascends to the top of his doghouse and begins to take battle with the Red Baron.  What you may not know is that the designer of the Fokker Triplane, used in World War I by flying ace,  Manfred von Richtofen was Anthony Fokker, who was born on this day in 1890.

Anthony was born in what is now known as Indonesia, the son of a Dutch coffee plantation owner.  When he was only four the family moved back to the Netherlands so their children could have a Dutch upbringing.  The boy was not studious and didn’t finish high school, but he had a mechanical mind and loved experimenting with steam engines, model trains and airplanes.

When he turned twenty, the Wright Brothers were gaining public attention with their flying machines.  In France during that year, Fokker was witness to Wilbur Wright’s flying exhibition and became impassioned with flying.  He was sent by his father to Germany to receive training as an automobile mechanic, but his interest was in flying, so he transferred to the Erste deutsche Automobil-Fachschule in Mainz.  That same year Fokker built his first aircraft which was destroyed by his business partner who flew it into a tree. He gained his flying certificate  in his second “Spin” aircraft, which shortly thereafter was also destroyed by the same business partner.  That ended the partnership.

When World War I broke out, the German government took command of Fokker’s factory, but the aviator remained in charge as director and designer of most of the aircraft that came out of it.  After the war’s end, the terms of the Treaty of Versailles  forbade Germany to build any aircraft or aircraft engines.  In 1919 Fokker returned to the Netherlands and started a new aircraft company.  His nickname became “the flying Dutchman.”

In or about 1926 or 1927, Fokker moved to the United States, where he established the North American branch of his company, the Atlantic Aircraft Corporation. He eventually sold his American aircraft plants to General Motors, where they became the company’s General Aviation division.

Fokker died at age 49 in New York in 1939 from pneumococcal meningitis, after a three-week-long illness.

And to think, without his design of the Fokker Tri-plane, Snoopy would simply sitting idly on the roof of his dog house.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANTHONY FOKKER!

 

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SPRING FEVER FUNNIES

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JULIE’S FRIDAY FUNNY

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FATHER FIGURE?

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Born on April 5, 1900, in my home town of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Spencer Tracy would become a star in the movies.  He was the quintessential father figure in my eyes.  His kind and compassionate approach to each character he portrayed, showed in his performance. He starred in film classics like Father of the Bride, Inherit the Wind, Judgment at Nuremberg and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. Tracy received nine Academy Award nominations, winning for Captains Courageous and Boys Town.

He was raised as a Catholic, which would eventually have a bearing on some of the characters he played in his career.  He was a hyperactive child with very little use for school.  At nine years of age, he was placed in the care of Dominican nuns in hopes of changing his behavior. He later noted that attending Catholic schools took some of the badness out of him and helped to improve his grades.  He met Pat O’Brian, another actor, at Marquette academy and the two of them formed a long lasting friendship – both being interested in pursuing careers in acting.  They both enlisted in the Navy at age 18.

After attending college and the American Academy of Dramatic arts in New York.  He did some shows on Broadway, where he was finally discovered.  Talent scouts were scouring Broadway for the new talking movies.  One of those scouts was director, John Ford.  The rest is history.   Movie roles began to come in.  He drew on his past to play Father Flanigan in Boy’s Town.

Tracy met actress Louise Treadwell while they were both members of the Wood Players in White Plains, New York. The couple were engaged in May 1923, and married on September 10 of that year between the matinee and evening performances of his show.  Their first son, John was born in June of 1924.  The boy was deaf and Tracy felt it was a result of his own past sins that his son was suffering with this disability.  We can beat ourselves up so much with the law, however many folks do.

The marriage produced two children and became troubled almost from the start.  The couple separated, but didn’t legally divorce, which led Spencer on the trail of a series of affairs with many famous women.   In 1941 he became involved with movie star, Katherine Hepburn.  That relationship lasted until his death in 1967.  Years of overindulgence, smoking, drinking and eating led to his eventual heart attack only 17 days after filming his final movie, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

Spencer Tracy was known for his very natural style of acting.  Many of the younger actors learned much from him.  He earned several awards in his career, but what struck me most about Tracy, was his ability to capture his character and actually become the person.  He made it all seem so real.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SPENCER TRACY

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INSPIRED

ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL T. & KATHY BOECHER©

Churning, swirling, pulsated by the turbulence of energy,

The long, leaf lavished limbs of mature trees, undulate under the  rhythm of God’s breath,

Up and down, here and there, tossing, stirring,

His inspiration comes in the wind,

His Words have been breathed into the hands of men,

He speaks to us through them,

He never grows tired, never spent of energy, never sleeps,

Breathe life into me, Lord, God,

That my remaining days may be a testimony to you.

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ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL T. & KATHY BOECHER©

Churning, swirling, pulsated by the turbulence of energy,

The long, leaf lavished limbs of mature trees, undulate under the  rhythm of God’s breath,

Up and down, here and there, tossing, stirring,

His inspiration comes in the wind,

His Words have been breathed into the hearts of men,

He speaks to us through them,

He never grows tired,

Never spent of energy,

Never sleeps,

Breathe life into me, Lord, God,

That my remaining days may be a testimony to you.

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SPRING FUNNIES

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A SAD LITTLE BOY

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On this day in 1853, the fourth and last child of Abraham and Mary Lincoln was born. He was named Thomas.  It was a difficult labor for Mary.  Many hours of pain and the attendance of two doctors resulted.  Little Tad was born with a cleft palate – easily cured today, but not so in 1853.  His disability led to speech problems.  His teeth came in crookedly, making it difficult for him to chew his food.   He was a “wiggly” child and his father nicknamed him Tad because he wiggled like a tadpole as an infant.

As he grew into a child, it was apparent that he experienced some dyslexia and attention deficit disorder.  In other words he was a busy kid with some huge obstacles to overcome.  Upon his father’s election to the presidency, he and his brother Will moved into the White House with their parents.  Since they were the first presidential family with young children, the two boys were allowed complete freedom to play and scamper about the building with complete abandon.  These adventures probably were some of the most memorable events in young Tad’s life.

A year later, Will died of Typhoid Fever at the age of 11 and at that point, Tad’s sad life began.  His mother’s grief over her dead son, carried over to Tad.  The playmates that had joined both boys in their past adventures were not permitted to come to the White House any longer, because they were too much of a reminder for Mary.  Her later depression and encounters with death would come to haunt Tad’s life as well.

Alone, without other children to play with, Tad felt deserted.  His father stepped in and took over as Tad’s best friend during this time.  Still the boy had no associations with other children.  He did not attend school and his education was being totally neglected.  Because Abraham was dealing with his own grief over the loss of his other son, he became even more indulgent with Tad, allowing him free rein in his office.

On April 14, 1865, Tad went to Grover’s Theatre to see the play Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp while his parents attended the performance of Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theatre.  Abraham became the victim of assassination that night and word of it spread to the Grover’s Theater where Tad heard the announcement to the audience.  He began running and screaming, “They killed Papa! They killed Papa!” He was escorted back to the White House while his mother pleaded to have him brought to his father’s deathbed. About the death of his father, Tad said:

“Pa is dead. I can hardly believe that I shall never see him again. I must learn to take care of myself now. Yes, Pa is dead, and I am only Tad Lincoln now, little Tad, like other little boys. I am not a president’s son now. I won’t have many presents anymore. Well, I will try and be a good boy, and will hope to go someday to Pa and brother Willie, in Heaven.”

Tad was twelve years old when his father died.  It was a time of turmoil in the land and many boys had lost their fathers in the war.  It was time for him to grow up. His mother, concerned for his education, hired tutors to work with Tad during the next few years.  They spent time in Europe surrounded by tutors and speech specialists.  During this time he tried to console his grieving mother.  A closer relationship grew between them.

In 1871 Tad became homesick and returned to America.  On the voyage home he caught a cold which worsened as the days went on.  His lungs were so congested, he had to be propped up so he could breathe.  He died at the age of 18.  His body was transported to Springfield and buried in the Lincoln Tomb at Oak Ridge Cemetery, alongside his father and two of his brothers. Robert accompanied the casket on the train, but Mary was too distraught to make the trip.  Tad’s early proclamation was now realized.  He would now go to heaven with Pa and brother Willie.

 

 

 

 

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THIS IS YOUR TIME

29790322_10214928789348724_3948291728055675518_nAt the beginning of February of this year, we undertook the task of creating theatre with young people.  The auditions produced sweet faces, high energy and excitement.  You could feel it in the air. These delightful little Thespians pushed forward, learning lines and blocking along with developing characters and learning music and choreography.  Quite an undertaking for children K-5.  Yet many of these children have never experienced the excitement of being on stage – or the response of an audience – the magic that occurs when the lights come up on opening night and all their efforts are brought to fruition.

Tomorrow they will have that opportunity.  Adrenaline will pump through their little veins.  Butterflies will fill their tummies and their hearts will flutter.  Some refer to it as the smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the crowd. In actuality, they’re getting first hand experience with some amazing life lessons.  They will see the benefit of working hard towards a common goal.  They will learn how team work can accomplish so much more than just one person trying to do it all.  They’ve learned to cooperate, work hard, make a commitment and follow through.  They’ve also gained self-confidence and learned skills that will help them communicate through life.

I have a special place my heart for little ones.  I know the joy I found being a theatre kid.  Some of my fondest memories occurred on stage in front of a crowd.  My insecurities melted when I could take on another persona for a little while.  We want our children to succeed.  They need to be encouraged to step outside of the box and take chances that will cause them to grow.  Yet they still need to know that we stand behind them and with them.

So tomorrow, as the lights come up and the first notes are sung, something wonderful will happen – a kind of magic energy that explodes when they experience an audience.  May this be the start of something amazing for them.  BREAK A LEG!

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ONCE LOST, NOW FOUND

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ART & POETRY FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

A town was once alive and bustling with activity,

Abandoned, but still built on solid ground,

We trudge through time with hearts held in captivity,

Our walk in life may keep us earthly bound,

But when Christ came He gave us the proclivity,

He shows us how to turn our lives around,

We are not able through our own activity,

To reach the gates where glory does abound,

Through Him alone and His sweet sensitivity,

We now are free, our sins have been unbound.

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SPRING FUNNIES

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A LEGEND IN HIS OWN TIME

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When I was a  child, I found great solace in the literature of the past.  Books like RIP VAN WINKLE and THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW held great fascination for my imaginative young mind.  The beauty of reading a well written story is that the reader can draw his own conclusions.  He can create the necessary imagery connected with the events and become part of the actual tale.

Washington Irving was born on this day in 1783.  His parent were Scottish English immigrants, living now in Manhattan, New York.  Irving was the last of 11 children and was named for then president George Washington.  He actually met  President when he was only nine years old – a memory that stayed with him for his entire life.

He was not an ardent student, but preferred to skip school and partake in various adventures and drama.  When he was 14 his family sent him to live with his friend James Kirke Paulding in Tarrytown, New York. It was there that Irving became familiar with the nearby town of Sleepy Hollow, with its quaint Dutch customs and local ghost stories.  Is it any wonder that a teenaged mind could expound on those local tales to spin his own remarkable work? The travels during his teen aged years, consisted of visits through the Catskill Mountains, which was the setting for RIP VAN WINKLE.

From 1804-1806 he toured Europe.  Irving was not a good student and barely passed the bar in 1806. He began actively socializing with a group of literate young men he dubbed “The Lads of Kilkenny.”  Preferring to follow his creative impulses rather than a career in law, Irving teamed with friend James Kirke Paulding and oldest brother William to publish Salamagundi, a periodical of humorous essays. In a similar vein, he penned the History of New-York from the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty, by Diedrich Knickerbocker (1809), a satirical work that earned the writer widespread notoriety.

In 1815 he returned to Europe to help his brother with a family business. He became Minister to Spain, appointed by President Tyler.  Thinking the position would allow him free time to write, was not the case.  Spain was in a state of political turmoil.  His thoughts on this period of time –

”  I  am wearied and at times heartsick of the wretched politics of this country. . . . The last ten or twelve years of my life, passed among sordid speculators in the United States, and political adventurers in Spain, has shewn me so much of the dark side of human nature, that I begin to have painful doubts of my fellow man; and look back with regret to the confiding period of my literary career, when, poor as a rat, but rich in dreams, I beheld the world through the medium of my imagination and was apt to believe men as good as I wished them to be.”

Considered perhaps the first true American writer, Irving sought to nurture his successors and pushed for stronger laws to protect writers from copyright infringement. The terminology of his works seeped into American popular culture, with monikers such as “knickerbocker” and “Gotham” becoming affiliated with New York City.  Thankfully, his creative inspiration led to many great reads and his contributions to  the literary world are priceless.

Think I’ll spend this snowy spring day, curled up with a good book.

Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above them. Washington Irving

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SPRING FUNNIES

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Not liking spring so far.

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MANY FACETED MEN

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Yesterday was Easter, so I didn’t have time to research famous birthdays – however, we should not forget the man who brought many faces to the silver screen through his characterization.  Lon Chaney was born on April 1, 1883.  I imagine he took a lot of guff being born on April fool’s day, but he became the man of a thousand faces throughout his career.  Maybe hiding behind all those masks helped him to forget his birthday.

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Today, another man’s life is celebrated.  Giovanni Casanova was born on this day in 1725.  His name has become synonymous with womanizing and scandalous affairs.  Casanova was born of Venetian actors – which by most standards would be a set up for a loose lifestyle.  My vision of this fellow is that of a playboy – an early Hugh Hefner, if you will.  His fancy pants and powdered wig were most likely very appealing to the ladies.

He began life sadly, as his father died when he was only eight and his mother – the itinerant performer, spent her time touring Europe.  Poor Casanova was left in the care of his grandmother and eventually sent to boarding school.  This lack of parental intervention undoubtedly played a role in his persona – causing him to look for love in all the wrong places. He even once stated, “So, they got rid of me.”

In spite of the appalling living condition, the boy had a quick wit, an inquisitive mind and an appetite for knowledge.  After attending the University at Padua, he earned a law degree and returned to Venice to practice clerical law.  During his time in college, he began to gamble and quickly fell into deep debt.  His charm and good looks allowed him to connect with some of the richest in society. However indebtedness caused him to be imprisoned for the first time.

At the age of 21 he set out to be a professional gambler, but lack of funds deterred him. Instead he spent time playing the violin and hanging out with the low life musicians of the time.  He never relished the occupation, but enjoyed the many pranks he and his associates played on unsuspecting victims.

Good fortune seemed to follow him as he saved the life of a Venetian nobleman and was immediately taken under his wing.  By this time, Casanova was growing more and more handsome and getting into more and more trouble.  At the age of thirty he was somewhat like the prodigal son, leading a life of self satisfaction and narcissism.  He was also at a very low point.  He was imprisoned again.  This time for affront to religion and common decency.  As he sat in his disgusting cell, all he could think of was how to escape.

Thirty years later in 1787, Casanova wrote Story of My Flight, which was very popular and was reprinted in many languages. Casanova’s judgment of the exploit is characteristic:

“Thus did God provide me with what I needed for an escape which was to be a wonder if not a miracle. I admit that I am proud of it; but my pride does not come from my having succeeded, for luck had a good deal to do with that; it comes from my having concluded that the thing could be done and having had the courage to undertake it.”

Born of actors, he had a passion for the theater and for an improvised, theatrical life. He frequently succumbed to the quest for pleasure and sex, couldn’t hold a job and often got  into trouble when prudent action would have served him better. His true occupation was living largely on his quick wits, steely nerves, luck, social charm, and the money given to him in gratitude and by trickery.  His life led him to intrigue, spying, undercover work and anything that would lead to another scandalous encounter.  His memoirs showed the way life was often lived at that time.

Stories like Casanova’s make great fodder for adventure, romance, frivolous living and the lush life, but with over indulgence also comes grief.  Who is to determine the course of a man’s life?  I wonder if he ever found out.

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THERE IS NO DOUBT

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When Jesus rose from the dead on Easter morning, His body was restored and glorified.  Yet some scars of His suffering remained.  I’ve often wondered about that, but as is always the case, there was a reason for the remnants of His suffering .  Every whip lash was closed.  Each hole pierced into His precious head was healed.  The bruising no longer appeared, but the disfigurement from the spikes that cut deeply into His flesh – the wounded side from the sword of the Roman soldier, were still visible.

We all face times in our lives when doubt creeps in and we question our beliefs.  Usually this happens when we’re at a low point in our lives.  When we’re young and trying to decide our course for life or when we’re old and facing the inevitability of death – when debts mount up and we wonder where our help lies – we go through a period of questioning.

Thomas, the disciple of Jesus, was like us.  He had questions throughout the time of Jesus’ ministry.  For example at the Last Supper, he asked Jesus, “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way.”   It had to be so confusing for the followers of Jesus.  They’d marveled at His teachings – they were stirred to action – they believed He had come to save the world.  Yet, when everything fell apart – when the soldiers entered Gethsemane with their swords drawn – when everyone scattered – when Jesus was arrested and put on trial – when the nails pierced His body and when He finally died – there had to be a total confusion to those He left behind.

When Jesus appeared to the disciples after his resurrection, Thomas wasn’t there.  He lacked the faith to believe it was true.  He needed proof. Those scars were the proof – not only for Thomas, but for all humanity to know that Jesus actually did suffer, die, lay dead in the grave and was restored to perfection on Easter morning.  The scars validated the work He had accomplished for all humanity.  He suffered and died so we wouldn’t have to.

We don’t know much about Thomas other than that he was a fisherman and a Galilean.  He also went on to build churches in the middle east.  His mission extended as far as China.  Along with most of Christ’s original twelve, he suffered the death of a martyr. The power of that proof undoubtedly helped him to do amazing things for God’s kingdom.

We are so much like Thomas.  We want to have proof.  We wonder and question and can easily be tempted not to believe what we cannot see.  Yet that is exactly what faith means.  When Thomas placed his hand in the Savior’s wounds, he knew, without a doubt, that this truly was God in the flesh.  He said, “My Lord and my God!

Because we haven’t seen Jesus, it’s natural for us to doubt at times, but Jesus also talked about us in the Bible when He said, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”  We have the evidence of Jesus’ existence in the written Word of God. 

Dear, Lord, Jesus, there are times when I doubt – when fears assail me, when things aren’t going well in my life, when all seems hopeless.  Keep me grounded in your word, because there I will find the truth – The Bible is your voice, your truth and your proof.  Thank you for loving me enough to give your life for me.  Amen!

 

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SPRING FUNNIES

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HE IS RISEN INDEED !

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Originally posted on 3-25-16

 

His bruised and smitten body lay quiet in the grave,

He gave His precious blood for me and all the world to save,

There are no words to thank Him, to give love in return,

God’s promise now fulfilled, within my heart does burn,

The words are ever etched within this heart of mine,

My sins have been forgiven, by God’s own Son divine,

I wait this Easter morning, with confidence and hope,

To see Him resurrected gives me a way to cope.

Sweet Jesus lying there, Your love will never fail,

I put my faith in You.  No other can prevail,

Your grave is empty now, no more does death take hold,

The quiet sleep is ended, the morning light is gold,

I see your perfect body, in royal majesty,

I am redeemed by your own life, I’ve gained the victory,

That glorious Easter morning, when new life you did send,

For we who love you most, will never fear our end,

The scars in hands and feet, the wound upon your side,

Are proof to those who love you, that your Spirit never died,

You’ve risen from the grave, our debt for sin is paid,

We now we can sing our praises for the smitten body raised.

 

 

 

 

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TOO YOUNG TO DIE

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There are so many harsh memories of the American Civil War.  Even today, remnants of the pitting of brother against brother seems impossible to imagine.  Yet even in times of war, deference to family can take a back seat to the belief in a cause.  Our nation was divided in thinking and the cause of division was slavery.  Today we face similar splits in society.  We often have a congress and senate that can’t seem to agree on anything.  We have subversive agents within our own country who seek to destroy the very founding of our nation.  When men must take up arms to defend the country, it’s one thing, but when we become so divided in our thinking that we are no longer unified, its quite another.

John Herbert Kelly, a Confederate General, was born on this day in 1840 in Carrollton, Alabama.  He became an orphan at the age of seven and was raised by his grandmother.  By the time he was 17, he received an appointment to West Point, with the help of an influential uncle.  Before graduating, Alabama had seceded from the Union and John went to Montgomery to join the Confederate Army.

John had no qualms about fighting in this battle.  He was more than committed.  He entered the army with the rank of second lieutenant. He was assigned to Fort Morgan where he stayed until 1861.  In 1862o Kelly was appointed Major of the 9th Arkansas Infantry Battalion which he led into  battle at Shiloh.

Later in 1862 he fought at the Battle of Murfreesboro where he was wounded.  He was in charge of a large brigade of men at Chickamauga.  He lost 300 men at Chickamauga within one hour. While leading his troops Kelly had a horse shot out from under him. Because of his bravery, he was recommended for promotion.  General Cleburne stated, “I know no better officer of his grade in the service.” At the age of 23, John Kelly was promoted to a Brigadier General.  Kelly’s brigade was one of the key factors at the Battle of Pickett’s Mill which led to a Confederate victory.

Only one year after his appointment, while leading a charge for a skirmish in Franklin, Tennessee, Kelly was shot by a sharpshooter.  He was immediately removed from the field of battle, still alive, and taken to confederate doctors at Harrison House.  He died the next day, when Union soldiers moved in.  He was buried in the uniform he proudly wore in that incident.  He was one of the youngest generals in the Confederate Army.
We often wonder why, when a young person dies.  It doesn’t seem right that a life should be cut short, just when it’s beginning.  John Kelly was a hero for his cause.  He believed in what he was fighting for, as most soldiers do.  His courage showed on the battlefield and in spite of his short life, it was filled completely.

“Some are bound to die young, By dying young a person stays young in people’s memory. If he burns brightly before he dies, his brightness shines for all time.”    

Unknown

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DO NOT BE AFRAID!

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ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

When it seems that all is gone and the days stretch on too long,

There is hope and consolation in God’s perfect preservation,

He provides for every need, even when there’s naught to feed,

Miracles are now required, He will give with love inspired,

His perfection does abound in creation all around,

Lift your hands to Him in prayer, He will answer you with care,

Maybe not as you expected, but in ways that He’s directed,

He will soothe your troubled mind, give you peace in all you find,

He will lift you to His breast, calming fears through every test,

He will breathe new life in you, when the present one is through.

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