The Empty Chair

The Fallen Soldier Table, Waterfront Center, June 17, 2016, photo by J. Berta

Greetings All:

Friday night was our local Army Birthday Ball.  It was a class act and a good time was had by all.  Dawn and I get dressed up a couple of times a year and this is one of them.  I must brag on her amazing dress (renttherunway.com, ladies) and how wonderful she looked.  I have published over 200 blog posts and change and I think this is the first time I am including a photo of both of us.  I thought this post and picture was a strong enough reason to have "an exception to policy."

Dawn and I at the Army Ball, June 17th, photo by J. Berta.

I was incredibly proud of how the entire community came together for this event.  The Rock Island Arsenal is our local military base and is home to the headquarters to First U.S. Army and Army Sustainment Command, as well as other military organizations.  It also has a factory that is a key component of our local economy.  So yes, there is a clear economic incentive for folks in the local area to support this event.  Yet what I saw Friay night and have witnessed my whole life is that this community is overwhelming supportive of our military.  It transcends getting dressed up and attending a formal event.

And I do love these things.  Considering how infrequently opportunities present themselves to get dressed up, it is a treat to do so.  I had to laugh when I put on my "Evening Mess" jacket and found the bottle openers that Dawn and I received last year for the 2015 ball were in one of the pockets.  It shows how often I wear that uniform.  

A bit of history is in order.  Formal military events have been around for a long time.  The U.S. Army has been doing such events for many years, as have our other sister services.  These are not everyday events.  They celebrate the tradition of the Army and the ceremonies that honor the history of the U.S. Army.  They are impressive to watch.  Just speaking for myself, they also cause me to swallow hard when concluded, especially when "Taps" is blown.

The Army and some state flags, including Iowa, on the stage for the ball, photo by J. Berta.

 

I first became acquainted with the concept of formal military events in 2003 at Fort Dix.  It was doing this time that I attended a "Dining In."  This event is the first cousin of a military ball.  While not a birthday event, it is still a celebration of our Army and a formal affair.  Then again, when you mix Soldiers with alcohol, things can get a bit out of hand.

The evening started well and we made sure the formal aspects of the evening were completed with the somber reverence required.  After that, well, let's just say, decorum was slightly compromised. 

What started with dinner rolls sailing across the room, ended with the MPs closing down the club.  Yes, that did happen.  Now, in all fairness, where we were holding the event was in the same building as the Fort Dix Community Club, that had a bar.  The patrons there were more than holding their own and that, in conjunction with our "antics," lead the local heat to say, "Party's over." 

But it wasn't, off we went into town to Kelly's, a bar that, while lacking an elaborate wine list, had two overwhelming positive qualities:  It was close and it was still open.  I was not driving that evening and all I can say with certain is the next morning arrived all too early.

Fast-forward to Friday night.  This event was far from that revelry.  We left shortly after the formalities had concluded, pausing for a few final photos with friends.  We'd had a great time and more than enough fun for us.  We were in bed by 11:00.

These events are fun, and they should be.  I think everyone should get dressed up at least a couple of times a year.  Whether it is an event like this, another formal affair, a wedding, whatever. Go enjoy yourself.  Like is too short not to have fun.  

After all, you never know when it will all end.  Suddenly, and without warning.

Which leads me back to the opening photo, the empty chair.  This table is set aside to honor those who are no longer with us. Those who have fallen on the field of battle.  Those for whom there will be no receiving line, no "prom" photo, no drink at the bar.  For them, there is only eternal sleep.  It is why these events are so different from other formal events. 

Friday night, the formal portion of the event was concluded by The First Army First Sergeant reciting from memory the "Fallen Soldier" speech.  He needed no script, as he was reading from his soul.  Here is a transcript I found of this most moving speech (pubic domain/fair use claimed):

"PERHAPS, AS YOU ENTERED THE HALL TONIGHT, YOU NOTICED A SMALL TABLE; SET FOR ONE, WITH A HELMET, AND BOOTS, IN A PLACE OF HONOR NEAR OUR HEAD TABLE.

*          THIS TABLE AND SETTING IS A REMINDER THAT ALL OF OUR COMRADES COULD NOT BE HERE WITH US TONIGHT.

*          THE TABLECLOTH IS BLACK, SYMBOLIZING THE DARKNESS AND MOURNING WE FELT AS OUR BROTHERS FELL IN BATTLE.

*          THE SINGLE ROSE LYING ON THE TABLE REMINDS US OF THE FAMILIES AND LOVED ONES WHO KEPT THE FAITH UNTIL THE VERY END.

*          A SLICE OF LEMON IS ON THE BREAD PLATE TO REMIND US OF THEIR BITTER FATE.

*          THERE IS SALT UPON THE BREAD PLATE, SYMBOLIC OF THE FAMILIES' TEARS AS THEY LEARNED OF THEIR LOVED ONES DEATH.

*          THE GLASS IS INVERTED; THEY CANNOT TOAST WITH US THIS NIGHT.

*          THE CHAIR IS EMPTY; THEY ARE NOT HERE.

*          REMEMBER, ALL OF YOU WHO SERVED WITH THEM AND CALLED THEM COMRADE; WHO DEPENDED UPON THEIR MIGHT AND AID, AND RELIED UPON THEM, FOR SURELY THEY HAVE NOT FORSAKEN YOU.  IT IS OUR HOPE THIS NIGHT, THAT WITH PRIDE AND HONOR, THEY WILL HEAR US AS WE TOAST THEIR ULTIMATE SACRIFICE TO THEIR COUNTRY'S CALL TO ARMS."

Moving words indeed. 

We've been a nation at war, come this fall, 15 years.  That surpasses every other conflict in our nation's history.  I have to wonder how many brave daughters and sons attended similar events as Dawn and I did Friday who acknowledged with reverence the fallen table, the empty chair...and are now represented by it.

To all those who have served and fallen, thank you.  You are not forgotten.  Your chair may be empty, yet we carry your memory in our hearts.  May God give us the strength to never set down this most sacred burden to carry forth for all our days.  


Be well my friends,
Jeno

The comments in this blog post and on all posts published by me on this blog, Cedo Pontis, are mine alone.  They are not meant to convey an official endorsement from any governmental agency, including the U.S. Army.


 

Requiem for a King

Muhammad Ali, 1967, public domain/no known copy write, full cite below.

 Greetings All:

 On Friday, June 3, 2016, Muhammad Ali passed away.  He was 74 years old.  He was an Olympic and professional boxer, three times the Heavyweight Champion of the world.  His professional record was 56 wins and only 6 losses, inclusive of 37 knock out wins.  His time was a particular spectacular (and brutal) time in boxing.  He seized claim to the title, "The Greatest," and he was.

In 1974, Ali battled George Foreman in Zaire (now The Democratic Republic of the Congo) for the heavyweight championship of the world.  Proclaimed, "The Rumble in the Jungle," this fight is hailed as one of the greatest moments in sports, period.  The movie, When We Were Kings tells this tale. 

 

The promotional poster for the 1974 Foreman/Ali fight in Zaire, fair use claimed, citation below.

At the end of the fight, Ali, bruised, exhausted, wounded, stood victorious.  An eighth round knock out of Foreman elevated Ali from just "The Greatest" to "The King."  The king of the ring and the king (in many ways) of the world.

The below YouTube video perhaps best sums up just profoundly significant Ali was from a cultural standpoint, transcending boxing.  Oh, and the narrator is a nice touch as well.  (Nope, not going to describe it, y'all got to watch it for yourselves.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJQCn5vZk54
Now, The King is gone, passed onto the other side.  There have been tributes pouring in globally, with news broadcasts taking a break (thankfully) from the presidential race to honor Ali.  He was many things and for the last few decades of his life, beloved.

That was not always the case.  He refused to submit to the draft, taking a public (and hugely unpopular) stance against the Vietnam War.  He was actually convicted of draft evasion and it was not until the United States Supreme Court ruled Ali was, in fact, a conscientious objector that his conviction was set aside.  I have the citation to the ruling below in the sources.

I was too young to remember the controversy.  For some, Ali was a traitor, a trouble-maker.  For others, Ali was a hero, willing to sacrifice money, fame, status, and popularity for his principles.  His quote of, "I ain't got no quarrel with them Vietcong.  They never call me nigger," summed up his stance.  

One does not have to agree with what Ali did to respect the principle behind his actions.  I like to think that had I been his age, I would have gone to fight in Vietnam.  Then again, that is complete speculation on my part.  After all, I had just been born and was fully engaged in defecating in my diaper during the worst of the fighting.  Conversely, I might have been active in the student protests of the war.  Here's the thing, you, me, NO ONE can know what we would have done at a particular time in the past.  Wish, hope, muse, rationalize and ponder all you want, you will never know.  

We do know about Ali.  He took a stance that was incredibly unpopular at the time.  He lost millions of dollars being banned from a sport where age is as ruthless an opponent as the other guy in the ring.  One can only wonder just how great he would have been had he accepted the draft, put in the minimal time and then returned to the ring much sooner than he did.

I heard a reporter yesterday say how his 92-year-old father, a crew member on a bomber in WWII, described Ali's stance on the draft this way:  "He's brave."  Here is someone whose chance of surviving the war was incredibly low.  Yet he described Ali's position as brave.  Here is someone I could easily qualify as an expert witness on courage stating Ali was brave.  That works for me. 

Winston Churchill, a man known for many quotes, here's one that is appropriate for today:  "Courage is the first of human qualities which guarantees all others."

I will argue that it was from Ali's courage sprang the other wonderful qualities of this man who made such a positive, global contribution later in his life.

As he left the ring for good, he carried with him the scars of his epic battles, with the most somber belonging to his brain.  Parkinson's Disease, almost certainly brought about by the decades of multiple, merciless blows to the skull, had come to him.  It would take his life.  His spirit, however, was always out of reach from its jab or hook.

He did not hide from the public his struggles.  His walk was slowed, his speech slurred, slowed, whisper loud, yet he stood tall.  My favorite memory of him indeed standing tall was at the opening ceremonies of the 1996 Summer Olympic Games in Atlanta.  There, he was the last torch bearer, handed the flame by Olympic Champ Janet Evans.
 

Ali and Evans at the 1996 Olympics, photo credit, M. Probst, sharing authorized, citation below.

I recall watching that ceremony.  I recall the look of awe and joy on the face of Evans (who I had a bit of a crush on back during the '88 Olympics, I should admit) as she passed him the flame.  With trembling hands, he lit the cauldron.  With that, the flame gave birth to the Olympic games and the re-birth of the Olympic spirit, enduring...just like Muhammad Ali.

There would be other honors befitting Ali.  The below image is of his ceremony receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President George W. Bush in 2005.  Decades after he was a legal adversary of the U.S. Government, he was now honored by its leader.  Here's the link to the award presentation.  Although Ali could not speak, I am in awe of his quiet dignity.  With quivering hands, he takes time to button his jacket.  It's 4 minutes, well worth the time to watch (IMO):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1GV8i0sCNo  
 

President Bush awarding the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Mr. Ali, public domain, citation below.

And honored rightfully so.  Ali's humanitarian efforts are renowned.  They are too numerous to list and I have a link in the credits below to them.  If I were to sum them up in one word, it was love.  He loved people.  He chose to use his fame, his story, to bring people together.  He took off the crown of a king and walked among the people.  In turn, they carried him on their shoulders, beloved for him.  He had become, "a king among peers."
 
As someone whose within the "area code" of a half-century of life, I am glad (relieved actually) that things I held important in the past are not so much that way anymore.  When I look back on Muhammad Ali's life, I see someone who achieved great things and fought all comers.  He relished the fight, needed it, I suppose.  Then in later years, he traded the jab for the handshake, the punch for a hug, the rage for love.  In doing so, I see a man who traded fame for humility and glory for service.  As he said:

"Service to others is the rent you pay for your room on Earth."

Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/m/muhammad_ali.html

Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/m/muhammad_ali.htm

A requiem is a Mass performed for the dead.  As Ali was Muslim, obviously, a Mass is not appropriate (while I'd argue prayers certainly are) yet a requiem can also be a form of acknowledgment, be it music or prose.  I hope this blog post captures the spirit of honoring Muhammad Ali, a man, father, husband, fighter, humanitarian and yes, citizen.  

Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/m/muhammad_ali.html"

R.I.P. to the Champ, to "The Greatest." and to a king whose throne was vacant.  Vacant because rather than sit, he chose to go forth and serve.  This, to me, is the purest form of nobility, truly worthy of a requiem...of love.

Be well my friends,
Jeno 

Sources:

Opening photo, World Journal Tribune photo by Ira Rosenberg, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muhammad_Ali#/media/File:Muhammad_Ali_NYWTS.jpg

http://espn.go.com/sports/boxing/topics/_/page/muhammad-ali 

http://www.amazon.com/When-Were-Kings-Muhammad-Ali/dp/B00007ELEK 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rumble_in_the_Jungle 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rumble_in_the_Jungle#/media/File:The_Rumble_in_the_Jungle_poster.jpg 

https://www.law.cornell.edu/supremecourt/text/403/698

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muhammad_Ali   

http://www.searchquotes.com/search/Quarrel/

http://www.ocregister.com/articles/evans-718270-ali-olympic.html 

http://olympics.nbcsports.com/2015/10/02/muhammad-ali-janet-evans-1996-olympics-torch-relay-atlanta/ 

http://www.ocregister.com/articles/evans-718270-ali-olympic.html
  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muhammad_Ali#/media/File:Muhammad_Ali_and_President_Bush.jpg


https://www.looktothestars.org/celebrity/muhammad-ali

http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/m/muhammad_ali.html 

 

Far From The Grill

My grill, photo by J. Berta.

Greetings All:

Soon, the Memorial Day weekend will be upon us.  For some, it has already begun.  For most, it is a three-day weekend.  There is the running of the famed Indianapolis 500 race.  I've heard it is one of the premiere sporting and spectator events in the world.  Perhaps someday I may get to experience it.  

The weather has finally, mercifully, gotten better.  Two weeks ago I was in Wisconsin and embraced a cold I thought I would not feel until a football game in November.  Now, it's north of 80 and sunny.  Keep it coming, Momma Nature, keep it coming.

For me, one image comes to mind first and foremost:  The grill.  It is now warm enough to not only grill, but to also enjoy lingering around it.  Judging by what I've been smelling recently around my neighborhood, I am not alone.

This weekend causes me to have mixed emotions.  On the one hand, I am troubled that the meaning of the day (Memorial Day) is at least diluted, if not all but washed away with the collective euphoria of summer's start.  In all fairness, this holiday t-bones at 50 mph the end of school/graduations/marriages/bachelor/bachelorette parties/and of course, grilling.  My point is it is hard to be completely somber when all this fun is around us.

Thus lies the conflict.

The conflict being:  How can we experience, less enjoy all this "fun" when the reason for this awesome holiday weekend is because so many others have weekends of any kind any more.  So many fallen, so many wars.

I do not have a specific sources section for this post, just this one article from The New York Times on the history of Memorial Day:  http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/30/opinion/30blight.html?smid=fb-nytopinion&smtyp=cur

I haven't written any of my "bar stool" poetry for a while.  I suppose I have not been motivated or perhaps (more likely) I've been lazy.  In any event, I had this thought about the grill and Memorial Day in my head and I was able to get it out on paper.  Here it is.  

Far From The Grill

Far from the grill are they.

They cannot smell the food upon it, sizzling to perfection.

No cold beverage may they hold, or taste, or toast.

They cannot hear the children laugh, the music play.

They cannot see the flags flying, slow-dancing with the breeze.

They cannot sink their feet in spring-green grass,

Or warm sand on a volleyball court.

No, none of these things can they do.

For they are no longer of this place, of our world,

Once it was theirs too, yet no more.

No more since the musket cracked, the cannon boomed, the rocket screamed.

No more since the sickness came and would not pass.

No more since the demons stole their minds away.

They cannot share our food, our fun.

They cannot embrace this summer begun.

Instead, they rest.

Rest together, row on row,

Rest in coffins, buried below.

Free forever from their foe.

They died for us, for our way of life.

To spare us from their battlefield strife.

Why?

So that we may live in peace,

We have that peace, you and I.

We have our families and our lives.

We have comfort and we have joy.

We have these things and so much more!

So let us honor those who fell,

At battles famous and those unknown.

Who died so that we could have this day…

And all our days.

So take a moment this weekend to recall,

Those resting far from us,

Far from the grill indeed.

 
Be well my friends,
Jeno

Ash & Ruin

From the News Chronicle, May 2, 1945, as posted to Facebook page of "Grandchildren of Holocaust Survivors," fair use and or public domain claimed.  Full citation in the sources.  

Greetings All:

On April 30, 1945, a man who had spent 56 years and ten days on Earth ceased to breath, to live, by his own hand.  That man was Adolf Hitler.  His name is synonymous with World War II and the horrors associated with it.  When I saw the photo above on Facebook, it brought a smile to my face.  I fully recognize and accept that it is not consistent with my Catholic/Christian upbringing to take glee in this anniversary, yet I do.  

Well, perhaps glee is not the most accurate or most precise term.  I do recall feeling the smug smile forming on my face when I saw the photo.  It was a visual reminder that the man who proclaimed, "A thousand year Reich!" made it only twelve.  Hitler had promised German domination over all of Europe and deep into Russia.  At the time the bullet smashed thru his skull, his precious "empire" had dwindled to a few city blocks.  All that had been his domain had been reduced to ruin.  He lost.  We won.  Thank God.

History is full of dates that recall some event or occurrence.  This is a big one.  The death of this man symbolized the end of Nazism.  The Third Reich officially ended nine days later.  While the war waged on the Pacific and many more would have to die, the death of Hitler meant the end of the war in Europe.  When it was all over, millions were dead.  Stalin, I believe, is credited with the line, "When one dies, it is a tragedy.  When it's a million, it's a statistic."  Although I fervently disagree with such an assessment, the point is not lost on me.  As some point, the capacity to appreciate, to understand the sheer numbers of souls perished in that war challenges basic comprehension.

Hitler's death was significant in that even the most committed "true believers" knew the war was over.  In the movie Downfall, the last days of "der Furerer" were played out by some brilliant acting from Bruno Ganz as Hitler.  The culminating scene is when Hitler learns that he's toast.  Here's the link to it on YouTube, fair use and/or sharing authorized:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7PmzdINGZk

I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone came up with the idea do do a parody of this scene.  By writing over the subtitles, one can create an alternative universe.  I have a link in the credits to one I remember from about seven years ago when the University of Northern Iowa upset Kansas in the second round of the NCAA Tournament.  One might take issue with such an action and I can understand why.  To equate Hitler's bracket being busted with his other horrific and genocidal crimes is not "the highest and best use" of free speech.  Yet damn if it's not funny...

Back to the subject at hand, Hitler's demise.  I am listening to a great book by Ian Kershaw, The End.  It gives a comprehensive critique on how Nazi Germany was able to continue (more or less) an effective resistance to the massive weight of the Allied war effort after June, 1944.  I was intrigued by this book as I always wondered why there was not an effort by the Nazis to sooner sue for peace, at least with the Anglo-Americans.  

Kershaw offers a compelling argument why the Nazis fought on in the face of certain defeat:  Hitler made them.  After the failed assassination attempt of July 20, 1944, the Nazi vice was ratcheted even tighter on the military and civilian population.  Outward displays of unquestioned loyalty to the state and the war were demanded and the more fanatical, the better. 

At the top of the food chain in Nazi Germany were the henchmen of Hitler.  They all knew that their purpose and power were tied to both him and the war waging on.  They recognized their complicity in the Reich's war crimes and acquittal was impossible.  Defeat would mean death, likely by suicide.  Besides, already on the Eastern Front, the Soviet Red Army was already offering "coming attractions" of what retribution would be visited upon Germany and its people.  So, they fought on.

Finally, it was over.  Before the sun sank on Berlin on April 30, 1945, Hitler and his then-wife Eva Braun, were dead, their bodies burning in the courtyard of the bunker complex.  All around, Soviet artillery and tanks were smashing Berlin to bits.  Smoke and fire and ash and ruin were the orders of the day.  The smell of death and the sight of ash that had been done by the Nazis was now being done to them.  

It took the world a couple of days to learn this news.  I suspect that sales of spirits and beer spiked at bars and pubs across the free world.  Who knows, perhaps some Germans poured the last of their remaining rationed Schnapps and toasted that at least he was gone. 

The Stars and Stripes newspaper reporting Hitler's death on May 2, 1945, from Wikipedia, fair use/public domain claimed, full citation below in the sources.

Last night was our local Yom HaShoah observance.  This is an annual remembrance for those who perished in the Holocaust.  The committee who puts on this event does it with dignity and historical accuracy.  It was particularly painful to listen to an eye-witness account of Treblinka.  Painful, yet important.  

One of the committee members made the insightful point that those who would re-write history will argue that the Holocaust was not "as terrible" as it truly was.  This is why remembrace events are so important.  "Never again!" requires knowledge of the past to be on guard of the origins of behavioral evil in the present.  Sadly, there are signs, both far and near, that such thought and actions are still with us.

The program from last night's observance, photo by J. Berta.

 
 As I sat in the audience, I looked out the windows to my right.  It had been raining all day and as the evening went on, I saw water running down a part of the building.  Water is often connected with life, with renewal, with cleaning.  Tears are, I suppose, a first cousin of water, liquid and symbolic.  How many gallons of tears were cried due to Hitler and his lackeys' actions?  Much I suppose, yet not enough to quench the fire of ruin or wash away the evidence of the ash.

Yet that is a good thing.  There needs to be a record, there needs to be evidence preserved of the evil perpretrated upon the world.  While it is understandable to celebrate Hitler's death, it is more important to reflect on the record of his life and all that occurred in his 56 years and ten days.  

Ash and ruin indeed.

To all those who opposed evil, however they could, for as long as they could, if only in their thoughts, this blog post is dedicated.  To remember is to honor.

Be well my friends,
Jeno

Sources:

https://www.facebook.com/3GsWorldwide/photos/a.287489004607234.70825.117499674939502/549330451756420/?type=3&theater

http://history1900s.about.com/od/1940s/a/Hitler-Suicide.htm

http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/downfall-2005

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QEeLqUnLrA 

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2011/sep/16/ian-kershaw-the-end-review

http://www.amazon.com/The-End-Defiance-Destruction-1944-1945/dp/0143122134

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_of_Adolf_Hitler

http://www.hebcal.com/holidays/yom-hashoah 

https://hecqc.org/

http://www.holocaustresearchproject.org/ar/treblinka.html