I Pledge Allegiance

The first two photos were taken at the funeral of World War II veteran Jake Yarbrough, November 4, 2015, Stafford, KS

We often take for granted

the very things

that most deserve our gratitude.

--Cynthia Ozick 

It was at Byers Grade School that I learned the words to the Pledge of Allegiance. Every morning, we'd turn our eyes to the northwest corner of the room, put our little hands over our hearts and repeat this oath:

(I'm second from the left)

I pledge allegiance to the flag
Of the United States of America  
And to the republic for which it stands
One nation
Under God
Indivisible
With liberty and justice For all.

The memorizing came, I suppose, from repeating it every day. At first, you have to concentrate hard. You have to think about each and every word to make sure you get it right. There weren't many students in that combination first and second grade classroom. If you messed up, Mrs. Bond might hear you in the dozen or so voices.

Through the years, it could be like many things we say by rote. We may not truly think about the meaning. But there's just something about saying those words in unison with 53,000-plus people that makes me feel the words to the depth of my bones.

 

The Ceremony of Allegiance is as much a part of K-State football games as the coin toss. It gives me the chills - every single time.

So on this Veteran's Day, let's think about our allegiance and where it lies. It's not in the political skirmishes. It's not in the political posturing. It should have the same importance and pride that came when we finally remembered the whole pledge as we stood in our first grade classrooms with our hands placed firmly over our hearts:

One nation
Under God
Indivisible.

On this Veterans' Day, I thank the veterans and the active duty service personnel who protect my right to say the Pledge of Allegiance. It's up to all of us to not just utter the words, but live them.

Flyover prior to the October 17, 2015 K-State game

May we remember what freedom really means.

Simple Stories of American Living

I thought it was time for a rerun of this blog post from 2011. A wrap-up of our 2015 wheat harvest, which we finished on Wednesday afternoon (YAY!) is coming next week. Happy 4th to all!

One of the treasures I found at my Grandma and Grandpa Neelly's house was a little book called We Love America: Simple Stories of American Living.

This isn't a book I remember my Grandma reading to us, but I loved the illustrations so I brought it home anyway.
On the inside cover, it says:

Janis Neelly from Your Sunday School Teacher

It's Grandma Neelly's handwriting, so it was really to my mom from her mom masquerading as her Sunday School teacher. (We moms are always wearing multiple hats, aren't we?)

This book has joined my other patriotic decorations from Flag Day to the 4th of July (and probably beyond, since there's not another holiday coming up right away).

Instead of it just sitting there and looking pretty, I picked it up the other day. And it truly does reflect simpler times, a time when it was cool to be patriotic.
The book "visits" different children and tells about their homes - everything from the "big city" to an "Indian pueblo."

It tells about life on the farm (you can click on the photos and they'll come up bigger so you can read the text):
And life on a ranch:

Things on the farm and the ranch are a little different these days. Hayrack rides are something we do at fall celebrations, not to bring the hay in. Around here, the cattle are rounded up with 4-wheelers, not horses.

Leisure time is spent differently also:
Kids today are much more likely to listen to their ipods instead of a radio or "watch" their music on MTV or CMT or youtube. Having a taffy pull or making candy from scratch is something a few of us may do at Christmas time, but it's not on most people's radar for "family fun."

And while the illustrations and the words make me nostalgic and cause me to reflect on days gone by, I love the ability to type the book's copyright "MCMXLI" into a search engine on the internet and discover it was 1941. (Yes, I could have searched the inner recesses of my mind for the Roman numeral knowledge I had in elementary school, but this was easier - and faster.)

As we celebrate the 4th of July today, it wouldn't hurt to take this sentiment to heart:

Happy 4th of July everyone!

In a Soldier's Own Words

The Army summed up Oric Neelly's service during World War II in fewer than 100 words:

Radio Operator, High Speed. Served for 36 months in European Theatre of Operations: Africa, Italy, France and Germany, as Radio Operator with 1st Armored Signal Battalion. Received orders from Tank Commander and transmitted them to other tanks in the platoon. For 18 months, worked in Radio Control section of the 7th Army receiving and transmitting itinerary communications in Morse Code. Receives and sends Morse Code at the rate of 20 words per minute. Was also operator in Army and Navy Teletype Communications, which was set up to insure the safe reception and transmission of confidential and secret messages. 

Oric Neelly was my great-uncle, the youngest brother of my Grandpa Shelby Neelly. He was born February 12, 1919, and died June 5, 2014.

Several years ago, Oric's daughter, Brenda, asked her Dad to record some of his memories of World War II. He decided he'd rather write them in his own hand. She transcribed them and compiled them into a hardcover book, "Memoirs of World War II" by Oric C. Neelly.

When Oric died this past June, my brother, Kent, and I sang at the funeral. One of the songs we chose was "America, the Beautiful," in honor of Oric's service to our nation. On this Veteran's Day, I'm sharing just a snippet of his story from the book, which I was privileged to receive from Brenda.

The words of Oric C. Neelly are below:

We boarded ship at Norfolk, Virginia, on or about the 20th of October, 1942. We were at sea for about 18 days. We were dodging submarines or maybe just waiting for D-Day. D-Day being the day the invasion was to start. ...

(I'll insert here: This is not the D-Day we think of. As best I can tell, this would have been part of Operation Torch, the British-American invasion of French North Africa during the North African Campaign of World War II, which started on November 8, 1942).

Back to Oric: There were, I suppose, around six or seven thousand people on board. We were packed in pretty good, bunks stacked on top of one another. ...

The invasion took place on the 8th of November, 1942. The ship pulled in closer to shore and started unloading tank lighters, tanks, half-tracks and all the other equipment. Of course, the battleships and everything else were firing into shore. We were out on deck watching. ...

The ship was listing from side to side ... Being from dry Kansas, I didn't know how to swim. I thought this may be a problem. Anyway, I took off all my clothes and shoes, being just in my shorts and dog tags. I kept my billfold, which was a good thing because after I got into the water, it was a pretty good paddle. I went down a wood and rope ladder that was hanging down the side of the ship away from the fire, but the fire was on both sides of the ship. I got as far away from it as I could and pushed off into the water. My life jacket slipped up my back and stopped at the back of my head, but it kept me above water. Then I started dog-paddling away from the ship. ...

The waves in the ocean were high, not breaking over, but almost. ... I just paddled away from the ship. I never noticed the cold much, but I think it was. I was in the water for about 45 minutes, just getting away from the fire and the ship. There was a Frenchman in a small fishing boat that came along and picked me up and took me in to shore. That was at Fedala, eight miles north of Casablanca.

There were only a few on that little boat. I don't know what made that Frenchman pick me up. There were at least two or three thousand guys in the water at the time. ... The Frenchman took us to the dock and let us off. I regret to this day I didn't get that guy's name, but I didn't. When we got off the little boat, I didn't have any clothes on or shoes. My fair, eyebrows and mustache were all white, burned from the fire, so I must have looked pretty bad. ...

Now that I am ashore, I don't know where to go or what to do without any clothes or shoes. Someone told me to go to First-Aid and told me where it was. My sea legs were so bad I could hardly walk, but I took off. When I came to it, it was just a small house on the side of the road. I went in and there were guys laying everywhere, moaning and groaning really loud and blood everywhere. I looked in the next room. Two guys were throwing dead people out the window. ... I said to myself, "I am not hurt this bad, I am getting out of here." ...

After that, I wandered into a camp of GI's. I told them I was off that ship that was burning out at sea. It burned all night. They took me in and gave me some chow and a blanket. One of the guys was gone, so they gave me his cot to sleep on. I was fixed for the night and safe on shore, which was a good feeling. ...

Now this was just the start of the war. I was over there 2 1/2 years. I can't remember some of it too well, so that's why I'll just tell you the highlights now and again.

I want to insert some sayings and words of wisdom that I have picked up going through life, hoping you will find them interesting or amusing, whatever:

***

The book recounts other memories of Oric's service in the Army. For me, it is more powerful than a history book because I knew the author. 

An honor guard from Fort Riley played "Taps" at Oric's funeral in June.

And, Oric's words, written in his own hand, seem particularly appropriate on this Veteran's Day. 

This just a small portion of the book, but on this Veteran's Day, I thank my Uncle Oric and all the other brave men and women who have served our country. 

Thanks also to Brenda for making sure one veteran's story was told and preserved. It is quite a gift! (More thoughts from Oric's service are here: Who Has Seen the Wind?)

A Penny for Your Thoughts

A Penny for your thoughts. Really, Penny was in my thoughts last Friday as Randy and I went to the Stafford Rodeo.

I've never been a horse person. I didn't go through the preteen fascination that seems to afflict a bevy of girls, including my sister, Lisa, who had a horse named Penny. I left the fancy fringed shirt and cowboy boots to Lisa and her 4-H project. I was much more inclined to have both feet planted firmly on the ground. Give me a foods project or even a sewing project - both decidedly indoor activities - and I was much happier. I even liked working on 4-H books. (I know I am an anomaly, but I've always liked the art of telling a story.)

Lisa on Penny and me on the ground - where I belong!

But even though a rodeo is not something I want to do every weekend, I have to hand it to them. They sure know how to honor the American flag. That's not to say that my patriotic pride isn't similarly stirred at the Bill Snyder Family Stadium on K-State game day.

But there's still something moving about watching as the American flag is honored before a small-town rodeo.

This year, they included a reading of Johnny Cash's poem, "The Ragged Old Flag" while our own local cowgirl Jayme Ramsey carried a threadbare flag on horseback through the rodeo arena.

And then a brand new flag was similarly ushered past the assembled crowd that stood, hands over hearts and hats in hand, as "The Star-Spangled Banner" played. What a way to begin an evening of small-town entertainment!

The night at the rodeo had me remembering visits to my Grandma and Grandpa Leonard's house near Sublette when we were growing up. We often timed our summer visits to coincide with the Haskell County Fair in August, and a rodeo was always part of the fair's attractions.

When our kids were little, we took them to the rodeo, too. Neither of them went through the horse phase either. But that didn't mean they didn't enjoy the rodeo parade. They just saddled up their bikes instead of horses.

Brent and his friend, Erica, at a long-ago rodeo parade

A pink and white cowboy hat complete with feather trim came home from a rodeo once upon a time with a little girl who just may have talked her Daddy into an impulse buy. I couldn't find a photo of Jill in the pink cowboy hat. But the memory is still as vibrant as that hot pink hat.

Jill at the same parade

Small towns mean rodeo, parades and patriotism. There's nothing wrong with that.

If you'd like to hear Johnny Cash's "The Ragged Flag" click on the YouTube link. Enjoy!

A Day That Will Live in Infamy

Photo by Brent Fritzemeier

It was a typical Sunday. Early church bells had just begun to ring. Some servicemen were still sleeping. Others were on their way to breakfast.

But the ordinary turned to extraordinary in just moments. On that Sunday morning, the first two waves of aircraft - about 180 planes - roared off the decks of Japanese carriers north of Oahu at 7:49 AM.

At 7:55, the quiet morning at Pearl Harbor was ripped apart when the first Japanese bombs dropped. Some Japanese aircraft swooped down on the harbor and Battleship Row. Others headed for nearby airfields, where American planes were lined up, wing-tip to wing-tip. Within minutes, the aircraft were reduced to useless heaps of torn and melting metal and the harbor was choked by black smoke and fire as mighty ships slipped toward the ocean floor.

A few minutes into the attack, a message was sent to the U.S. capitol: Air raid, Pearl Harbor - This is no drill! Pearl Harbor was pounded with bombs, torpedoes and bullets from 7:55 until 9:45 AM. As the Japanese planes roared away, they left 2,403 American officers and fighting men dead and another 1,178 wounded. Civilians were also caught in the crossfire of the surprise attack.

For most Kansans, it was just another typical Sunday. Many had gone to church and were relaxing with their families and friends after a big Sunday dinner on this day of rest. Many had been listening to the Sunday afternoon broadcast of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra when the first newsflash interrupted the programming.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt had hoped to keep America out of World War II. All that changed on December 6, 1941.

Photo by Brent Fritzemeier,
the Washington Monument from the World War II Memorial

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the attacks on Pearl Harbor. A few years ago, I interviewed about 20 servicemen and women who had served our country during World War II. The stories were a series of articles for the Wesley Towers Tapestry. All of them were residents of the Hutchinson retirement facility.

The interviews were some of the most moving stories I'd ever heard. They talked humbly and quietly about their service at Guadalcanal, the Island of Tarawa, the Aleutian Islands, Italy, at the Battle of the Bulge, the Battle of Leyte Gulf, the Battle of Okinawa and on ships in the Pacific. Two of the men actually saw the flag raised on Iwo Jima. Some served on bases on the homefront. One woman shared her experiences as the wife of a Prisoner of War. They represented all branches of the armed forces. Whether they served on American soil or overseas, they did their part to fight for America's freedom.

Each Sunday, our church bulletin lists men and women from our community who are serving our country. These were the kids I watched on the football field. I served some of them cupcakes at classroom Valentine's parties. They, too, were doing ordinary, every day things in a small town in South Central Kansas. Yet today, they are doing extraordinary things to serve our country. It is their efforts - and the sacrifices made by their families left at home - who help us to continue as the land of the free.

Our little community is no different than others across the nation. On this 70th anniversary of "a day that will live in infamy," let us never forget. It's more than a page from a history book.

... Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.

Enjoy this duet rendition of My Country Tis Of Thee sung by Josh Groban and Heather Headley.