A Blessed Easter...

On this most holy day, the feast of the Risen Christ, we wish all our friends the blessings of joy, hope, peace, and good health.

Peanuts & Cracker Jacks...

Step aside, George Steinbrenner. A few days ago we found out that Ebabe's Gifts had been successful in its bid to sponsor a local softball team. The "Ebabes" team is a great group of first grade girls. Tonight we went to see them play, and they won 9-3. It was great fun.

At the end of the game, Stacy, their coach (and daughter of Bob's barber) called them into a huddle and gave a countdown. They burst forth in unison with a loud "Ebabes!" Maybe next time I can get a video of them.

Congratulations, Madam Principal ! ! !

According to a reliable source:

Don Splinter, Executive Director of the Georgia Association of Middle School Principals, Melton Callahan, Executive Director of the Georgia Association of Secondary School Principals, and Jimmy Stokes, Past President of the Georgia Association of Educational Leaders, along with a host of friends, family, and coworkers surprised Dr. Sheila Kahrs at the monthly faculty meeting to announce her selection as the Georgia Middle School Principal of the Year for 2009. Dr. Kahrs will represent the State of Georgia in the selection process for National Middle School Principal of the Year. In October, she will join the other POY from around the country in Washington for a three day conference and celebration hosted by the National Association of Secondary School Principals and Met Life.

Sheila, you make us proud. Congratulations on much-deserved recognition...

Small World...

Yesterday, while looking for some material related to my high school, Mont Pleasant H.S., in Schenectady, New York, I found this picture on the Internet. The young lady in the picture, Gwen Pugh, was in my class. I sent it to my friend Roland Racko, another member of the class of '58. He was even more amazed. It turns out that Roland took the picture! He had established a small business taking prom and wedding pictures. The young man in the picture is Jim Staley, who was a member of the class ahead of ours. Jim had posted this picture in one of his Picasa.com albums.

Reflections on 2 Men (Part 2)

I arrived in Norman, Oklahoma, in the summer of 1965, excited about getting started on my engineering degree and making the navy my career. Two years later, I had resigned my commission and was going back to school full-time to pursue my engineering degree without the navy's involvement. As I pointed out in my last post, my commanding officer was the reason for my decision to leave the navy. I think I made it obvious how I felt about the man.

Captain Lowe had not helped the navy's position on campus. He was a politically astute man, but seemed to focus his "schmoozing" on people outside of the academic community. He also had at times disregarded university policy to the navy's detriment. On one occasion in 1967, he conducted surveillance on a Midshipman suspected of a drug offense, using Naval Investigative Service personnel and equipment, without advising university officials. The administration of OU found out about this and was outraged. There was a collective sigh of relief when it was announced that a replacement had been named as the new Professor of Naval Science.

The new NROTC commanding officer was to be Captain William Loren McGonagle, USN. The new Captain had superb credentials -- a veteran of service during both World War II and Korea, his most telling accomplishment was that he had earned the Congressional Medal of Honor. The word of this spread throughout the campus community and the NROTC rapidly regained its stature on campus.

I spent a lot of time in the naval armory while I was going to school. I got to know Captain McGonagle professionally and socially. We talked about a possible future for me back in the navy, but that was not to work out. I do know that this wonderful and inspiring comrade renewed my faith in the ability of our armed services to attract and promote truly exceptional individuals.

Captain McGonagle made it very clear that he didn't believe it was an accident that his former command, the USS Liberty, was attacked by the Israeli armed forces. He had a carefully-prepared slide presentation that he was always ready to deliver to any service organization that invited him. It was an arresting presentation, with detailed photographs of the aftermath of the attack on the Liberty. He was an imposing figure, standing well over six feet tall and with an athlete's physique. In his dress whites, with the Medal of Honor in evidence, he made a wonderful spokesman for the service and the NROTC.

I stayed in touch with Captain McGonagle for a few years, and then stayed aware of his activities with the USS Liberty alumni organization. I heard with real sadness of his death in 1999.

Permit me to quote part of Captain McGonagle's obituary by Jon Thurber in the Los Angeles Times:

"When Navy Capt. William L. McGonagle received his Medal of Honor, it was not bestowed on him by the president, as is customary, or even presented at the White House. McGonagle, who died last week at 73, was given his award in the relative seclusion of a shipyard near Washington by the Navy secretary. For all of McGonagle's heroism, he was still part of an incident that the U.S. and Israeli governments would rather forget. He was the captain of the Liberty. A lightly armed World War II-era freighter converted to a technical resource ship, the Liberty was on duty in the eastern Mediterranean on June 8, 1967, Day 4 of what would soon be known as the Six-Day War between Israel and its Arab neighbors, when it was attacked by Israeli planes and torpedo boats. Although staffed by U.S. Navy personnel, the Liberty was actually an intelligence-gathering ship, a listening post for the National Security Agency, the U.S. intelligence branch responsible for communications intercepts and code-breaking. Below decks, 100 crew members were using sensitive radio equipment to monitor traffic in the region. As the afternoon of June 8 approached, off-duty members of the Liberty crew spent their time on deck sunbathing and waving to Israeli planes as they passed overhead. Crew members recalled that some of the pilots even waved back. But just before 2 p.m., two Israeli Mirage fighters came back, and this time the pilots opened fire on the Liberty, spraying the vessel with rockets, machine gun fire and napalm. Israeli gunboats soon arrived and took over the attack, launching torpedoes, one of which ripped a 40-foot hole in the hull. Of the 294-man crew, 34 were killed and 171 wounded. McGonagle was on the bridge when the attack started. He was severely burned when one of the planes dropped napalm on the bridge, and his legs were so badly torn by shrapnel that a makeshift tourniquet could not staunch the flow. "If I left . . . with those wounds, I'd never have been able to get back to the bridge," he told a reporter later. The Liberty sent SOS signals to the 6th Fleet. The carrier Saratoga finally responded, acknowledging receipt of the call for help. Twelve fighter planes were dispatched to the Liberty's rescue, but those planes were quickly recalled on orders from Washington. Then suddenly the attack was over. The Israeli gunboats offered help to the ship they had just tried to sink. The American response was, at a minimum, rude. Through it all, McGonagle continued to oversee the firefighting and flood control efforts on the stricken ship. He said that his crew inspired him to stay. "I would lay down on the deck, and put my leg on the captain's chair to stem the loss of blood," he said. He stayed at his post through the night, often stretching flat on the deck and navigating by the North Star. It took 17 hours for U.S. help to arrive. By midafternoon of the day of the attack, Israeli officials had informed Washington of the incident. In the ensuing furor, Israeli officials expanded their explanation, saying that the fighter pilots thought the Liberty was an Egyptian freighter. President Johnson accepted the explanation and an apology, but several high-ranking members of his administration and the military were not satisfied with the Israeli story. "My position is that the Israeli military is highly professional and to suggest that they couldn't identify the ship is . . . ridiculous," Adm. Thomas Moorer, who was chief of naval operations at the time McGonagle received his Medal of Honor, told the Washington Post. Other than a brief public statement after the incident, McGonagle refused to discuss the matter. He was, in the words of one of his crew members, "a good Navy captain." But in 1997, on the 30th anniversary of the attack, McGonagle spoke up. In a speech at a reunion of Liberty crew members and their families at Arlington National Cemetery, he called for a full accounting from Israel and the United States. "I think it's about time that the state of Israel and the United States government provide the crew members of the Liberty and the rest of the American people the facts of what happened, and why . . . the Liberty was attacked," McGonagle said, his voice cracking with emotion. "For many years I have wanted to believe that the attack on the Liberty was pure error," the captain said. But, he said, "it appears to me that it . . . was not a pure case of mistaken identity. It was, on the other hand, gross incompetence and aggravated dereliction of duty on the part of many officers and men of the state of Israel." There was no official response to his remarks. Another member of the crew, James Ennes, now a retired Navy lieutenant commander, found a separate explanation for the attack. In his 1980 book, "Assault on the Liberty," Ennes concluded that the Israeli attack was an attempt to prevent the Americans from learning of a planned Israeli invasion of the Golan Heights. The invasion came a day after the attack on the Liberty amid indications that Israel had earlier postponed the action. Ennes said the ship's mission was not to spy on the Israelis, but rather to intercept communications confirming Soviet pilots were flying Egypt's air force fleet of Soviet-built Tu-95 bombers. A U.S. Naval Court of Inquiry determined that the Liberty was "in international waters, properly marked as to her identity and nationality, and in calm, clear weather when she suffered an unprovoked attack." McGonagle, a Kansas native who received a degree from USC and served in the Navy during World War II and the Korean War, recovered from his severe wounds before receiving his Medal of Honor. "

R.I.P., my Captain.

Reflections on 2 Men (Part 1)

In 1965 the Navy sent me to teach at the NROTC unit at the University of Oklahoma. I arrived there at the end of August. One of my first surprises was to be advised that the commanding officer, a naval aviator, Captain Marcus L. Lowe, Jr., did not permit his officers to take any college classes while at this duty station (Among the staff, it was generally believed that the reason for the Captain's policy was that he had done poorly in a class after his arrival at Oklahoma and did not want to be outshone by his subordinates.). This came as a great disappointment, since I had stated in my request for this duty that I intended to begin taking the courses needed for an engineering degree. I wanted to become what was known as an Engineering Duty Officer (EDO), a special class of officers who only serve in engineering assignments.

Within a week of my arrival, the captain returned from his summer duty assignment in Corpus Christi, Texas. I approached him shortly thereafter to see if he could make an exception in my case and permit me to take courses at the university. I explained that as a bachelor I could pursue classes at night school, that they wouldn't interfere with my teaching assignments, and that he would never be aware of any adverse effect on my performance.

His response was totally unexpected and, in my opinion, unprofessional -- "Mr. Mead, if you've got so God damned much time on your hands, then I'll strangle you with collateral duties." And he proceeded to do so. I was soon notified that I would be the Coach of the Midshipman Rifle and Pistol Team, the Drum and Bugle Corps, the Drill Team, publisher of a Midshipman newsletter, in charge of the Trident Society (a Midshipmen social group aimed at professional development), the coordinator of a yearbook for the unit, and sponsor of the annual Navy Ball. Captain Lowe was clearly both stubborn and a man of his word. The effect on me was simple. I decided to resign my commission and leave the navy as soon as my obligated service was over.

More than a year had passed when one of the strangest incidents of my naval career occurred. I was approached by Captain Lowe and asked if we had a speaker planned yet for the March 1967 meeting of the Trident Society. I informed him that we did not yet have a speaker committed and he then informed me that he would be the featured speaker, and further, that his topic would be "Marcus L. Lowe, Jr., the Story of a Naval Career." We held the March meeting with average attendance, about 60% of the battalion. The Captain spoke proudly of his career from flight school through World War II duty in a PBY squadron, through various staff and flying assignments, to his arrival at OU several years before. I thought it was a fairly successful event.

The next morning Captain Lowe called me and the rest of his staff, with the exception of the Executive Officer, into his office. He closed the door. We were standing in a row in front of his desk wondering what the nature of the meeting might be. He looked away from us, looking out toward the campus (He sometimes had a problem looking people in the eye.) and spoke, "I guess you all know why you're here." We didn't have a clue. He continued, "Last night was one of the greatest displays of disloyalty I have ever witnessed since I joined the Navy!" We still didn't have a clue. He explained that he had expected every midshipman in the battalion to be present for his speech and was mortified that there was not 100% attendance.

We were at a loss. Lieutenant Colonel Tullis J. Woodham, Jr.,, USMC, the Marine Officer Instructor, spoke up, "Captain, clearly you didn't expect my Marine candidates. They're not even members of the Trident Society." (The Marines had their own chapter of the Semper Fi organization.)

The Captain blew up, "Tullis, I don't want to hear it! They're disloyal! They should have been there!" We all tried to reason with him (still staring out the window, not facing us) to no avail. We explained that at no time had he indicated to anyone that this was a so-called "Command Performance," that some Midshipmen had exams to study for, that membership in the Trident Society was voluntary, etc., etc. It all fell on deaf ears. And then he made his pronouncement: "Every Midshipman who was not in attendance last night is required to write a 5,000 word essay on loyalty to be submitted by April 20th. And I (Captain Lowe) will review them all."

We were stunned and had no idea what the result would be. He dismissed us. We naturally got together to discuss how we would proceed. Some of the staff said they wouldn't even pass on the request because it was so absurd. I chose to go a different way.

I informed my classes the next day of the assignment. I stated it absolutely without attribution, not stating that it had come from the Captain, but the Midshipmen already knew about it. I said that I expected inputs by the due date. There was much grumbling. I did not even pretend to sympathize.

The due date arrived and the result was much as I expected -- some essays were brilliant, some were terrible, and about half of the people who had not been in attendance had ignored the assignment. I still remember the essay of one Midshipman, Buddy Munkres, who wrote that no one had the right to question his family's nor his loyalty, and traced his family's history of defending this country for more than a century. I had expected some non-respondents and that's exactly what I needed to take the next step.

I wrote an official Navy letter addressed to the Bureau of Naval Personnel (BUPERS, in Navy lingo) recommending that those Midshipmen who had not submitted an essay be dishonorably discharged from the Navy for failing to follow a lawful order. I really didn't want them disenrolled, nor did I believe that the order was lawful, but I wanted the bureau to become aware of the shenanigans of the Captain.

The Executive Officer called me into his office as soon as I submitted the letter (It had to go up the chain of command for endorsements enroute to its ultimate addressee.). "We can't submit this," he said.  I asked, "Why not, Commander. These people don't deserve to be commissioned if they can't follow a simple order." I held my ground. The letter went on up the chain, with endorsements "Not recommending approval."

A few weeks later, the Bureau of Naval Personnel initiated an investigation into the administration of our NROTC unit.  A team from BUPERS convened in Norman to determine first hand what had gone on.  More than one staff member had resigned their commission, citing as part of their reason the fact that Captain Lowe had prevented them from taking courses at the university.  One of these officers was a naval aviator with over 10 years of service, and this was at a time when aviators were needed in Viet Nam.  And the great loyalty essay fiasco also was looked into.  There were no disenrollments, nor should there have been.  But the Navy changed its policy with regard to officers assigned to NROTC duty.  After that time, if a Professor of Naval Science wanted to prevent a member of his staff from taking classes, he had to justify the reason in writing.  And not long after that, the NROTC Unit at Oklahoma got a new commanding officer. I'll discuss that in Part 2 of this series...

The Power of the Internet (for Good)...

One of my perennial haunts on the Internet is the H.A.M.B. I am what is known as a HAMB'r. For those of you who are uninitiated, it stands for "Hokey Ass Message Board." And it's part of the larger world of The Jalopy Journal (http://www.jalopyjournal.com/). A little history is in order...

In the words of Ryan Cochrane, the founder:
"It’s December of 1994 and I’m at home for Christmas break. I had taken up HTML and decided to build a hot rod website. I obsessed over the site for weeks, but by January I was ready to “launch.” While sitting in my dorm room at the University of Oklahoma, I hit the “publish button” in my HTML editor and started what would become one of the biggest obsessions and passions of my life.

Amazingly, it’s now 15 years later and The Jalopy Journal is the world’s most read hot rod publication - online or off. In 2008 alone, we hosted over 170 million pageviews. Maybe even more amazing is that I love writing, building and creating this site even more than I did when I first began. Very few people are as lucky as I am - to be able to do what they truly aspire to do in life."

What Ryan created was a Web location now populated by over 68,000 HAMB'rs, all exchanging ideas, opinions, designs, advertising, insults, and whatever else these pages can transport, all relating to custom cars and hot rods. I feel certain that even Ryan has been surprised at the directions it has taken.

Consider for example the Friday night art shows, where automobile artists post their latest creative works. Or perhaps you might look at the social groups that have grown up around locations, or interests, or marques. I'm a member of the HAMB Plymouth Club, the MOPAR Builders Group, the North Alabama and Tennessee HAMB Members, and the Hemi Connection.

There are message threads on every concievable notion having to do with cars. Recently, I was able to take some pictures of details in the construction of my 1932 Plymouth roadster and send them to a builder in Michigan whose car was much more deteriorated than mine. I loaned a couple of parts to a gent in Oregon to make duplicates for his 1932 DeSoto. The power of this medium for connecting people has always impressed me, but the power to do good has revealed itself more among HAMBers than any other Web community with which I have gotten involved.

I saw a great example a few weeks ago. An active duty member of the U.S. Army had recently gotten transferred from Arizona to Kentucky. With all the disruption and expense of moving his family to his new duty station, he couldn't afford to move the car he had been working on for several months. He left it in Arizona and was paying to store it. One of the HAMB members knew of the situation and started an online campaign to move the car. Veterans and non veterans joined the fray. In a matter of a few hours, a PayPal account had been set up, money had been raised to defray expenses, and a retired truck driver from Oklahoma was on his way to Arizona with his own truck and trailer to move the car.

More recently, a sadder event demonstrated the generous heart of this collective body of car folks. A young man named Andy Dunn had joined the HAMB a few years ago. Andy had a rare form of bone cancer and was not expected to live. A few of the guys on the H.A.M.B. were inspired to support him and his family. Plans to get Andy to the H.A.M.B. Drags (all expenses paid) were thwarted by more health complications. Undaunted, the fellows just put that money toward a hot rod for Andy. Their generosity inspired the community and the next thing they knew, people from all over the country were donating parts and services. The resulting Model A Ford was Andy's pride and joy.

Andy was known to thousands as HAMBANDY, and updates on the state of his health and his car were followed by a vast army of interested members. There were literally hundreds of message threads on the HAMB with thousands of messages following Andy Dunn's progress.

Andy Dunn and his Model A

This story would be incredible enough if it ended there. It didn’t. At one point, Andy was in Washington state getting medical help for a few weeks. Sensing an opportunity to uplift Andy, a few HAMB'rs in the area gathered their hot rods and customs and headed to the hospital to give Andy an impromptu car show. The rain and cold couldn’t stop them… They were determined to have a good time and to support their pal. From all accounts, the little car show in the hospital parking lot was the best event of the year.

Andy at his personal car show

Sadly, on St. Patrick's Day, a member named MOVINGVIOLATION posted the following message:
"On behalf of the Dunn family and with a heavy heart, I must tell you that HAMBANDY has left us today. This past weekend Andy asked to leave the hospital and go home. And with his family at his side he peacefully passed for a better life. Andy fought chordoma for 3 years and was adopted by the HAMB members and quickly became HAMBANDY. In those 3 years he became friends with many people here, some cruised him while in hospital in the States... others he visited at their shops. He was taken to car shows and toured places with HAMB'rs that most of us would only wish to see. Andy as said in an earlier post became a legend. And you reached out to him with cards, letters, gifts, parts and money for the once in a lifetime build of HAMBANDY's model A. This brought people from around the world together to become friends and help Andy... A project that Andy's family will be forever thankful for. It renewed faith in mankind for many of us. You could always count on Andy to tell you something about Hot Rods that you didn't know and this past week while watching American Graffitti he said to his dad that he would have loved to live back in the day that the movie portrayed. He also was quick to tell you real hot rods don't have valve covers or to crack you a quick grin or smile. Andy was the real meaning of Hot Rodding in our town and I feel on this site. Andy's fight with chordoma never got him down, he never complained about being sick and always put on a brave face when "the boys" were around. He gave you a true appreciation of life and what it really means. On behalf of the Dunns I would like to thank you all for being a friend to Andy. He would spend hours here lurking to see who was doing what and to dream your dreams of Hot Rodding. This friendship was priceless to Andy and his family. "

It was after the loss of HAMBANDY that the most magnanimous spirit of the group blossomed. A murmur was heard -- How about some kind of memorial for Andy Dunn? It grew into a groundswell of creativity and an outpouring of love. There are now going to be memorial brass plaques in Andy Dunn's memory to grace the dashboards of thousands of hot rods, T-shirts with original art by some of the HAMB's most creative graphic artists, graphic stickers in Andy's memory.

And what might be happening to the money from all those sales? First, a sum will be used to purchase an appropriate gravestone for this courageous young man. He lived in Newfoundland and his family is overwhelmed with grief and funeral expenses. They have gratefully accepted the assistance of HAMB'rs in honoring Andy. Even more inspiring, they have asked that all other funds raised by this effort be donated to the hospital that cared for Andy. You can learn more about this amazing tribute at this thread about the Official HAMBAndy Memorial Fund.