What's Important

There is going to be one HECK of a football game tomorrow night.  Bama vs. LSU.  #1 vs. #2.  Probably the National Championship game.  Nick Saban vs. Les Miles.  It should be a classic.

I love football.  I love the game.  I love the competition, the athleticism, and the violent conflict that is emblematic of the human experience.  I love the fans and the game day environment.  I love the rivalries and the sportsmanship that transcends the sometimes trashy stuff that exists outside the stadium.   

Back in 1995, I was in 3-7 CAV at Ft. Stewart.  I still remember that the Squadron Chaplain was an Auburn grad (but I don't remember his name).  [If you know me, you know that I respect no one as much as the Army Chaplain.  No one is more dedicated to his mission, in more difficult situations, than the Army Chaplain.  I have sought the Chaplain's council many times in my career and have always benefited from it.]  Auburn beat Alabama that year.  The Chaplain ran into me shortly after that and asked what I thought of the game.  I said something along the lines of I didn't approve of the outcome.  He said "It's a good thing that football doesn't determine our self worth".

That's my whole point.  None of us play, or have played, football for either team.  Few of you reading this  graduated from either school.  Football is a game that we all enjoy watching, but at the end of the day, nothing real has changed, regardless of who wins or loses.  Our lives go on, unchanged, regardless of the outcome.

No matter who wins or loses, I still have a wonderful wife who loves me despite my many faults.  I still have two children who amaze me every day.  The outcome of the game will not change any of that.  If Alabama loses tomorrow and the rest of the season, or if they win out all the way to the National Championship, my baby boy and little girl will still think I hang the moon.  Either way, I'm a winner as long as I hold up my responsibilities as a good daddy.

I will be rooting my heart out for the Tide.  I will have an extra spring in my step Monday if Bama wins and I will have an extra wide smile for my VT friend who calls me an SEC prim a dona.   But win or lose, the important things remain constant.  That's what matters to me.

My Brave Little Girl

Monday, we went pumpkin picking.  We didn't go to a farm.  The farms around here have hayrides and stuff and it costs around $15 a head to go through the door.  $60 for the family is a bit pricey, so we found a place down by Burke Lake, about 20 min from here, that had pumpkins for sale and some extra activities to boot.

It was really just a house with a big backyard that they had fenced in with some chicken wire.  There was a trellis and a hand written sign that said admission $5.  We actually had to work a bit to find someone who would take our money.  We probably could have walked in at no charge.... but there's no honor in doing that.

They had a bunch of random playground stuff and homemade attractions.  They had a little pen with some goats, sheep, and rabbits, some swing-sets, a rope swing hanging from a tree, a bounce house, and a kid size zip line.

When we first got there, Jeni pointed out the zip line to Janelle.  Janelle demurred and I waved Jeni off because I didn't think it age appropriate for Janelle.  The kids went on and played on all the other stuff for nearly an hour.  The bounce house was a huge hit.  Janelle went in and out at least five times.  Joseph would get in and hold onto the side and hop up and down.  Although I thought the whole place was a liability attorney's nightmare (no outside supervision and no "spec" safety equipment) personal responsibility was evident and everyone was real nice.  People with big kids wouldn't let them go in the bounce house when Joseph was in there and, in return, I got him out in short order so their kids could go in.  Personal freedom at its best!

After a while, I noticed Janelle was down at the zip line, watching intently as other kids went down it.  Let me describe it.  It was a cable tied between two trees about 50' apart.  At the start point, there was a platform about 2' high and a ramp up to the tree about 5' off the ground.  At the top of the ramp, a kid would need to be about 4' tall to reach the handle, so about 10' off the ground.  At the bottom, the cable was about 6' above the ground, so only about a 4' drop, but it would have been a pretty good way for a little one to fall on the hard ground.

I walked up to Janelle and asked her what she was doing.  She replied matter-of-factly but with just a bit of reluctance, "I'm going to do that".  I asked if she was sure. She said, "I'm waiting for my turn".  A little boy went and then his sister.  The little boy ran back and said "I'm next".  I said nothing, and when the little girl was done, Janelle jumped up on the platform ahead of the boy.  I had planned to help her go off the platform, so it wouldn't be so big and fast, but she ran up the ramp.  I helped her up to the handle, she grabbed a firm hold, and off she went.  Of course, I followed her down, just in case.  I helped her down at the end and she was done.  She went back to the bounce house.

I'm really proud of her because I really think she was afraid to go down the zipline but she decided that she was going to do it, and by gum, she did it.  She didn't let overbearing the little boy get in her way.  She made up her mind that it was her turn, jumped up there, and went all the way.  HOOAH!

The Boys of Fall

As I was walking home from the Metro tonight, I decided to change my routine and take the Northern route. The distance is the same and I usually go south because it has fewer intersections to cross, but it was a very nice evening and I decided to take the north route for some reason. The north route takes me past Oakton High School, which is right around the corner from us, and tonight is Friday – Football Night – and the Cougars were at home. As I walked by, I saw the early arriving crowd – the cheerleaders and the band – out in the parking lot, and the kids all painted up and theme dressed for the game. As I walked along the road, the traffic was backed up trying to turn into the parking lot. The whole scene reminded me of this video. This is what it is all about – the boys of fall. Those teen-age giants of the gridiron who are living their dreams and making the memories that will last their entire lives.

If you know me, you know I played high school football for the mighty Sardis Lions. I was a 6’1”, 185 lb. Offensive Tackle and part time Defensive Noseguard. I was an average player that survived on want-to and heart, because lord knows I didn’t have any talent. I was really too small to be a lineman but too slow to be a receiver or a back, so they made me a lineman by default. Every sentiment Kenny Chesney expresses in the video is exactly correct. The sense of immortality on Fridays, the nervousness before the games, the emotion, the brotherhood, everything…… he nails it. The guys in the stands may have enjoyed the games and they may have fond memories of Friday football, but it isn’t anywhere near the same. You can’t understand it unless you played the game; unless you were a “boy of fall”.

Cheering in the stands is no substitute for hurting and bleeding on the field with your brothers in pads, and it’s not just game day. It’s also the summer workouts, the spring training, and the daily practices. I still bear a scar that Tracey Norton gave me one day when his facemask got up under my shoulder pads and peeled up a big piece of skin. I remember being an aspiring junior working hard for playing time and being so sore everyday that I wondered if I would ever go to sleep at night without hurting. I remember sucking sweat out of the collar of my practice jersey for hydration during an especially hard practice. I remember standing in the field house parking lot after practice my senior year just trying to soak it up because I knew in a few weeks it would all be over and I'd never have it again.

A miniscule number of high school football players will ever play in college and an even more miniscule number of them will make the pros, but for the rest of us, the value of the experience is priceless. The lessons and values I learned playing high school football have served me well in the last 20 years and I will take the memories of my high school football days to my grave. The friends I made on the gridiron can always count on me when the going gets tough and they need a real friend.

Proselytizing at the Metro

If you know me, you know one of my favorite topics is the trials and oddities I encounter on the DC Metro.  I don't see too much proselytizing around the Metro station, at least in Vienna, but I do from time to time and it can be interesting.  There are the occasional Mormon missionaries that stand politely outside the station in their black slacks and their white shirts and their hard plastic name tags that say, "I'm a Mormon Missionary".  They don't really say that, of course, but they do say something close, like "Brother John Smith, Church of Latter Day Saints" and everyone knows who they are.  They never speak to me.  I guess its because I have the hardened look of a guy who lived amongst them for 2 1/2 years in Southeastern Idaho and resisted the pull of Mormonism.  Don't get me wrong, I like Mormons.  They are good people and make good neighbors.  Heck, I'll even hold my nose (because of his politics, not his religion) and vote for Mitt Romney if he gets the nomination, but the LDS Church isn't for me.

The odd ones aren't so obvious.  They blend in the crowd and jump out on unsuspecting, friendly looking people.  A few weeks ago I had driven to the station that day, and that evening I was walking to the garage to get in my truck.  This rather young black lady, with an interesting island kind of accent, said "excuse me".  I though she might need directions, or help with a bus or something, so I stopped.  She asked me if I believed in God.  I said yes.  She then started telling me how God, or at least the one with the real Heavenly power, is a woman.  She said that God begot Jesus (we know this from John 3:16) and God couldn't have begot Jesus without a woman (she had a point) and Jesus' mother is our "Mother God".  (I'm not being heretical here.  I'm just reporting the story)  She even knew what her name is because it is in the Bible.  At this point, I'm looking for the mother ship to drop out of the sky to pick this young lady up.  She goes on to explain that Jesus will return some day and all the believers will be born again.  You all may think that the Bible says we should all be born again of water and spirit (John 3:4-6) but, according to this young lady, Jesus will return with his bride and all believers will literally be born again by the wife of Jesus to repopulate the earth.  To quote Jerry Clower, If I'm lying, dying.  As a buddy of mine used to say, I'm not talented enough to make this stuff up.  I finally said something along the lines of nice talking to you, have a nice day, I have to get home.

Just today, a young man in a suit and tie approached me as I was headed into the station and asked if I had heard about the passover.  I said yes and he asked if I wanted to learn more.  I said that I had to get to the train.  He walked with me.  He was telling me how there is a passover in the Bible and it will save us.  Now, he's talking about 100 miles a minute and gesturing with his hands because he only has about 30 yards before we hit the fare gate and he has to pay to go further.  He tells me that this passover is hard to understand because it is written in parables, but it won't only save us from our sins but it will also save us from natural disasters on earth.  Now, for most of us, salvation from our sins is the greatest hope we have and my Bible teaches me in Matt 10:28 "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.", but apparently the little earthquake last month had a lasting effect on this guy. He kept trying to emphasize that his passover would save us from natural disasters... and don't you want that, don't you want to be safe from natural disasters? When we got to the fare gate he asked me if I would at least take his name and number. I agreed, because there is a trashcan at the bottom of the escalator, and if it makes him feel better...........

I guess that's the penalty I pay for commuting in my uniform. Every bum, beggar, and weirdo knows that a man in uniform will at least be polite enough not to physically assault them if they approach them. Anyway, they make good stories and maybe you'll get a laugh....

Uniform Hokey Pokey

At the most recent Army birthday ball, the Sergeant Major of the Army (SMA) announced that the Army would do away with the beret (that black wool rag that has less than zero utility as a hat) and return to the old fashioned patrol cap (the one that is a real cap, with a bill that keeps the sun and rain off your face) for the Army Combat Uniform (ACU - the funny looking camouflage uniform most soldiers wear every day).  He got a standing ovation.  Then a few days later, the 37th Chief of Staff of the Army (CSA) made it policy that, starting on October 1st, every soldier in the Pentagon would start wearing the Army Service Uniform (ASU - the new blue version of "dress greens") as the daily duty uniform.  First, every soldier in the Pentagon said, "crap, we still wear the beret with that uniform".  Then a gold rush of sorts started as everyone went out to get multiple pairs of pants and shirts, a second pair of shoes and all the accessories they'd never bought because you only wear that uniform once in a blue moon.  The clothing sales stores at the Pentagon, Ft. Meyer, and Ft. Belvoir have been totally picked over and all the popular sizes have been gone for weeks.  Add to that the fact that AAFES is short on many items system wide and the situation is starting to get a little desperate, now that October 1st is just around the corner.

As you probably know, almost as soon as the 37th took the job as CSA, he left to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  Well, today the 38th CSA signed out a memo that said we will still wear the ASU to work - but only on Fridays.  First, there was a collective sigh of relief.  Then, there was a collective realization that we'd all just spent all that cash to buy the new stuff that we won't be needing now and the pants are all hemmed and the shirts are all laundered and pressed, so they can't be returned.  Oh well, I guess I'll need all that stuff eventually and I'd rather it hang in the closet than wear it. 

The Iron Dog

This is the legendary Iron Dog at Richmond's Hollywood Cemetery.  The dog stands in eternal vigilance over a little girl who died in 1856.  The legend has it that the dog was a fixture in front of a Richmond drug store and the little girl loved to go there and see the dog climb on it... she just loved it to pieces... you know little girls can be.  Sadly, she passed at a very young age.  A few years later, with the Civil War looming, her daddy was afraid the dog would be taken away and melted down for the metal, and he couldn't bear to see the thing his daughter loved so much just go away, so he bought it from the drug store and moved it to the cemetery.  Now the iron dog she so enjoyed in life guards her eternal resting place.

More adventures with Granny and Granddaddy

Jeni had the great idea that today would be a good day to go to Great Falls State Park for a picnic.  I was a bit skeptical with the cool, rainy weather lately but it turned out to be a great day.  Great Falls is a state park along the Potomac River, on the Virginia side, at the "Great Falls".  I reset the trip meter after we filled up the van at our local gas station ($57 - ouch!) and it was on 13.7 when we left the park.  As an interesting aside, there was also some kind of international picnic going on.  I don't know if it was some kind of State Department deal, or what but of the groups we could positively identify, there were Brits, Germans, Russians (or Russian speakers, anyway), Moroccans, and from what I could see of their flag, either Hungarians or Tajikistanis.  I found this great world flag reference while trying to figure that one out. 

It was maybe 1/4 mile from the car to the overlook area.  Joseph pulled me last 100 yards or so, saying "waterfall, waterfall, waterfall."

The Great Falls.  I guess great is in the eyes of the beholder.  Its ok, but it's certainly no Shoshone Falls.

We had to pull Joseph away from the overlook.  He kept running back to look at the water.

Janelle also enjoyed it.

And plenty of rocks, leaves, and trees to occupy little hands and minds.

This is interesting (at least to me).  This pole marks the high water mark, since the '30s when they started measuring.  Now, this is in the picnic area, back behind where the pictures of the falls were made, so it is way above the water.

And, eventually we got to eat.  Jeni made custom sandwiches for everybody.  Ham and cheese on wheat for her and Granny, grilled cheese for the kids, and fried bologna for me and Granddaddy.

As an interesting aside, Great Falls Park fronts on Georgetown Pike.  There are houses like this all along there.  Go down to the bottom of the Zillow page and there is a map you can move around and see the estimated value of the homes along there.

Ballet School

Janelle finally got to go to Ballet Class today at one of the Fairfax County Rec Centers.  She's been watching Angelina Ballerina at least once a day.  It has completely surpassed Barney Goes to the Firehouse as her most frequent request.  She has probably watched the video here (this is only one little clip of 40+ minutes) at least a dozen times in a row now.  NetFlix is worth the money for us.  Grandma Greenleaf bought her a little ballet outfit last month and she's been talking about "ballet school" almost every day since then.

So the day finally arrived.  Class was actually only four little girls and one instructor in an activity room at Cub Run Rec Center, but you don't expect much for the price we paid.  She tried to show them how to stretch and some basic little ballet moves.  Again, you don't expect three year olds to be Prima Ballerinas.  Two little girls were really doing what the teacher was telling them, doing the stretches, pointing their toes, all that stuff, and two little girls just kinda did what they wanted to do.  I'll let you guess which group Janelle fell into.  I guess its something relatively inexpensive to do, and if she gains a little coordination and grace, or if she even starts following instructions a little better, that's a win.

Here's a few pictures of the first day in class.  Admittedly, they aren't too good because Jeni was several feet away from most of them with her little pocket camera and I also cropped them down, so nobody else is identifiable. 

9-11-11

On 9-11-01, about 3000 people died.  That was a real tragedy.  3000 lives snuffed out without warning.  Every one of those people had a mother and a father, and many had spouses and children who will forever miss them.

Since then, over 4000 men and women have died to keep it from happening again.  The people who died on 9-11-01 were victims of cruel fate.  They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Some were true heroes: the firefighters and police, the folks on Flight 93, and others like Rick Rescorla went above and beyond and gave their lives for others, but they were placed in that position by fate and some a-hole terrorists. 

I do not mean to minimize the loss of the 9-11 victims at all, but those who have died since then have known very well what they were doing and the risks they were accepting.  By now, we are 10 years in and the majority of the Army and the USMC joined after 9-11-01.  Every one of them knew where they might be sent and what they might be called on to do, including dying, and they all signed up.  Their reasons are many: some may have wanted revenge for a loved one, some may have wanted adventure, or just to be a part of it, but I believe that the majority just believed that they are Americans and they bear a responsibility to the people of our great country to defend our way of life and our freedom.

I have spent a great deal of time at Walter Reed, and I have witnessed their sacrifice.  I've seen soldiers with no legs, wheeling themselves around in wheelchairs and waiving off any offers of a push, because they want to do it on their own.  I've seen lovely young wives sitting with their husbands who are missing multiple limbs or are disfigured in other ways and are not the same men they married - but they are there with them.  I've also been part of burying some and I've known some personally.  I know wives, who when you ask, "how long is your husband home", reply, "until he goes again", because he has gone 8 times (and he could have already retired, if he wanted to).

We should always take time to mourn and remember the victims but we should, likewise, take time to remeber and honor the heroes who have gone since to say "Never Again".

"And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." -- Matthew 10:28

Where were you...

... when the world stopped turning that September day.

Ten years ago, on September 11, 2001, I woke up in the guest house at Ft. Sam Houston, TX.  If you know me, you may know that I spent a good portion of 2001 in Brooke Army Medical Center (BAMC), receiving first class medical care.  I had been discharged to the guest house a couple of days before because I no longer needed to be in the hospital, but the doc wanted me to come back one more time before she let me go.  I had seen Dr. McNeil on the 10th and was just going to drive home on the 11th.

Jeni was in the shower and I turned on CNN (or FOX, I don't remember) and they were showing the first tower and talking about how a plane had hit it.  I saw the second plane hit, and told Jeni "there is some Tom Clancy stuff going on in New York.  Planes have flown into both World Trade Center towers".  We both knew, of course, that this was no accident and wondered if we'd even be allowed to leave Ft. Sam.

The Army hadn't reacted just yet, and as we drove off post you couldn't tell that anything was amiss.  We drove the 400 miles, or so, back to Lawton scrolling through the AM dial the whole way trying to catch the news.  We heard about the Pentagon and Flight 93 on the radio while we were on the road.

When we got home, I assumed that Ft. Sill would be on some kind of high alert, so I called the Battalion (over and over) because I was a Battery Commander and couldn't ignore the obvious (even though I was technically on convalescent leave).  When I finally got through, the Command Sergeant Major answered and I asked him what was going on, and told him I was in town if I was needed.  He told me they had it handled and I should just stay home and recover.

Ten years later, I'm now serving in the Pentagon.  I actually work in an area that was destroyed on 9/11 and I work with people who were in the Pentagon that day.  I did not realize the lingering impact of that day until we had the earthquake and some of those folks were clearly shaken.  Truthfully, never being through an earthquake, I also wondered if there had been a terrorist event that caused all that shaking (I was in the library, off from the main building, so it could have been possible)

Today I ride the DC Metro every day, which is in my opinion, the biggest terrorist target in the country, and I work in the Pentagon, a 9/11 target that remains the single biggest symbol of America's military power.  Yet I feel no fear.  I travel in and around Washington DC everyday and I have no worries for me or my children.  I think that means we're winning.  Terror only wins when we fear it.

Go have a picnic this weekend, watch some ballgames, cook out, visit some friends, but have no fear.  That's how we win.

This is the flag that was draped on the Pentagon after 9/11. I saw it in the Smithsonian Museum of American History.  They said that it would be retired and never displayed again, but I hear they have a new exhibit this week with 9/11 artifacts, so it might be on display again.

How we got to Pocatello

You may wonder how in the world a guy from Alabama ended up in little old Pocatello, ID, where there is no real Army installations for miles.  Well, it started like this:  EJ Karlberg, the HHB, 214th FAB commander when I was the Assistant S3, was my assignments officer.  EJ was a good guy, and we weren't what I would call friends, but we did know each other.  I was in his battery and we did share a hotel room one night in Killeen, TX (not like that) and a rental car back to Ft. Sill.  I was in my second command at Ft. Sill, and about 4 years on station.  He called me one day and asked if I'd been on his webpage lately.  I said yes, why (thinking he was about to say, where do you want to go?).  He asked if I was familiar with the Harvard Strategist Program.  [that's a program where you go get a master's degree in Public Administration from the JFK School of Government at Harvard and then serve a utilization tour with the G3 and are crowned a strategist]  I said yes and he asked if I wanted to apply.  I said "don't you have to have a history or polysci degree to do that?"  He said something like crap, what's your major, I have to nominate somebody and I was just looking at GPA and you're one of the only guys I have that qualifies.  Chemical Engineering.  I think I can get you a waver.  I'm also looking at teaching at West Point.  You can only apply for this if you want it.... you want to do it?  OK, sign me up.

Well, time ticks by.  At that time, before constant deployments, you had your choice of the three R's after command, recruiting, ROTC, or AC/RC.  The job choices went up on the internet and there was some good stuff but I was waiting on a decision on the Harvard thing.  Time keeps going by and I'm still waiting and jobs keep disappearing.  Eventually, we're down to recruiting in Connecticut, recruiting in West Bronx, NY, and AC/RC in Pocatello, ID.  Jeni and I talked and did our research.  Pokey was definitely the lesser of the evils.  It was close to Yellowstone, good skiing, and Jeni's parents (we'd always been relatively close to mine and far from her's).

Then I got a phone call that told me that four people were selected for Harvard with two alternates and I was an alternate, so if Miss America can't fulfill the duties of the crown.......... and we're looking real hard at Pokey, but not a peep from EJ.

Fast forward a month or so and EJ and company come to Ft. Sill for a branch briefing.  One of the lines in his talk went something like this, "If you've been on Ft. Sill for 54 months and you think you're hiding, call us because we will find you."  Crap, that's me.  I went up to EJ after the talk and asked him if he was talking to me.  He said "no, I know you got caught in the Harvard thing and so I've put you in the next cycle."  I said thanks, but if you have to move me send me to Pocatello.  He got visibility excited and said you want to go to Pocatello?  I said "no, I didn't say that. I said if you have to move me don't send me to West Bronx, NY".   After he tried to sell me on the Bronx by telling me how many recruiting awards I could win, I said, "I don't need recruiting awards, If you have to move me, send me to Pocatello."  He told me that if I wanted Pocatello, he could cut the request for orders ASAP, just let him know.

I talked to Jeni over the weekend and we decided that we should take Pokey while we had the chance instead of betting on chance in the next cycle.  Sure enough, EJ called me the next Monday, and I told him to send me to Pokey.

Its a good story about how I got there, but I wouldn't trade that assignment for anything.  If I had to redo my career and only keep one assignment no doubt I would keep Pokey and trade in the rest.

This is the view from my front porch, October 31, 2003.

Caribou National Forest, 20 minutes from the house, where we walked the dogs...off leash.  Nobody cares what you do there, as long as you mind your own business and let them do their thing, too.

Plenty of snow, but that was part of the deal, and it makes for good "war stories" when friends from the south talk about their "big snow".

Where did you bring me?

When we were still newlyweds, I got orders to go to Ft. Sill, OK, for the officer's advanced course (OAC).  This is circa 1999.  I had also asked for Ft. Sill as my follow-on assignment.  At that time, the worst thing you could get out of OAC, especially after a "plum" assignment like Ft. Stewart, was a year unaccompanied in Korea.  That's why I asked for Sill.  I figured it was my best chance to stay in the states with Jeni and we'd just come from a rapid deployment post and Ft. Sill was anything but rapid deployment.

Before we went, I prepped her up good.  I told her what a dried-up, hot, cold, windy, God forbidden piece of ground that Ft. Sill and Lawton was.  When we got there, she saw that there was some trickles of water, and some green stuff growing along the creek banks.  Given my low reviews, she thought is was might near close to heaven in comparison.  Then a couple of week after we got there, the infamous May 3rd tornado outbreak happened.
http://www.koco.com/may3/index.html

We were renting on the west side of Lawton at the time.  A few weeks later, we had some wind event that could have been a small tornado, or a straight line downdraft, we will never know, but the cable went out and just before it went out the TV weatherman said, "if your cable goes out, go to some local FM radio and we'll be there for you".  Well, the cable went out and we started tornado preparations way too late.  We dug up some C batteries to get the radio going, found a flashlight, and prepared to occupy the tiny hallway bathroom.  Jeni ran around to get the wedding album, some other invaluable things, and the dogs.  I got a gun.  (you have to be prepared for the aftermath, right)  So we've got Jeni and I, Belle (the Lab mix) and Bob (the Beagle), our wedding album, my .45, and goodness only knows what other priceless family artifacts stacked in there and we turned the radio on to get the latest and heard nothing but country music... and by now it was over.

Now Jeni wants to know "where did you bring me?"  I had to buy her a NOAA radio that would alarm anytime there was a warning and she would never go to bed if there was a tornado warning active.  She did not want to get caught in her night clothes if a tornado hit.

{as an aside, straight line downdrafts happen when wall clouds start to break up.  I was in OKC the night before I reported to OBC in 1995 and woke up to a heck of a wind.  I turned the TV on and saw the weatherman talking about straight line winds and saying there was no need to worry, because it shouldn't be more than 65 mph.  I thought "that's nice, but in Alabama, we worry about 65 mph!"  As another aside, they imploded the remnants of the Murrah building, that Timothy McVeigh bombed, in OKC the next day}

It all turned out OK.  Ft. Sill was a great post for us.  We actually made some great friends and I still have some great mentors from that time.  We bought and sold this house on the east side of town:
http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&ll=34.63364,-98.34933&spn=0.002781,0.00618&z=18&vpsrc=6&layer=c&cbll=34.633533,-98.349319&panoid=a7CCvu5G_OsCI2uFKF6-6A&cbp=12,265.15,,0,1.17

That house is the reason we will never buy again until I retire.  Jeni couldn't take the stress of the selling process.  If you're in the DC area, ask me what we bought and sold it for, it will make you sick.

Wherever the Army sends us.

So the title of our Blog is "the Ford's - wherever the Army sent us."  That's my attempt to copy some friends who are the XXXs in YYtown.  Our problem is that our town changes every two to four years.  Let me give you a quick rundown.

Jeni graduated highschool in Seaside, CA (see, she was an Army brat and dad was at Ft. Ord at the time), and went to basic training at Ft. Dix, NJ.  From there, she went to AIT at Ft. Huachuca, AZ.  Then off to Russian linguist training at the Defense Language Institute at Monterrey, CA.  Her first duty post was Ft. Hood, TX.  She was there when the wall fell and had the realization that Russian linguists were no longer in high demand and decided to go "green to gold".  She went back home to the University of Washington (see how that works, dad was at Ft. Lewis, therefore "home" is Washington) and got a commission through ROTC in the Ordnance Corps.  Upon graduation, she went to OBC at Aberdeen Proving Grounds, MD, with a side trip to Huntsville, AL, for missile maintenance, and then off to Ft. Stewart, GA.

I started my adventure at Jacksonville State University.  The ROTC cadre offered me a scholarship and I accepted with two conditions:  I could change my major to Chemical Engineering and I could transfer to the University of Alabama.  Both conditions being satisfied, I ventured off to Tuscaloosa.  Upon graduation in 1995, I headed to OBC at Ft. Sill, OK and then Airborne school at the Benning School for Boys.  From there I went to his permanent duty station at Ft. Stewart, GA.

There the stories come together.  Due to some friends and friends of friends, and some fate, we met and got married at the little chapel in Mentone, AL.  Because we were a year apart in our career timeline (Jeni was senior) and that would cause us to be apart quite often, we decided one should resign.  Jeni, being the future mom, gave up her career for our family but she continued for a few more years in and out of the National Guard.

Since that time, the Army has sent us to some great places we would have never seen any other way.  From Ft. Stewart, we went to Ft. Sill (again for me), then to Pocatello, ID, Aberdeen, MD (again for Jeni), and the Pentagon (Vienna, VA).

Some of the places at least one of us has been able to go:  Dallas, TX, Austin, TX, Carlsbad Caverns, Boise, ID, Pikes Peak, Arches National Park, Salt Lake City, UT, Craters of the Moon National Monument,  Yellowstone National Park, Jackson Hole, WY, Las Vegas, NV and Hoover Dam, Richmond, VA, Yorktown, VA, Lancaster, PA, Philadelphia, PA, Washington, DC, Gettysburg, and many, many more.  Since we've been married, at least one of us has been to something like 37 states and we've literally driven the highways from coast to coast together - From Savannah, GA to Seattle Washington to Dover, DE.  For the NASCAR folks out there, at least one of us has been to at least one race at Charlotte, Pikes Peak, Texas Motor Speedway, and Dover International Speedway.


The Army has its challenges, but it has its blessing, too.  We've met some of the most wonderful people in the world and we have friends that span all the places we've been and then some, because they're moving too.