IN HONOR OF THE MISSING PILOT

On Memorial Day, we still see a few WWII veterans at ceremonies commemorating those who served. My husband and I were were both children of that era, and our lives were forever changed. We remember rationing, air raid drills, and uncles who went to war, some of whom did not return. Several years ago, my husband published his memoir, A Preacher Called Sinn, and devoted several chapters to that historic period. One of his most vivid memories centers around the Bruning Air Force base that sprang up near his family farm in Nebraska. As a result, It changed the local economy, and brought the war close to home. Especially on the day when he found a young man who had parachuted to his death. In honor of the missing pilot who lost his life , I’m sharing chapter 6 from my husband’s memoir:

THE MISSING PILOT

Less than a week after the Bruning Air Base was finished, the Army Air Corps moved in and began their maneuvers. Our chimney was a turning point for B-19 liberators on their sorties. The roar of airplane engines hammered the once quiet skies, swooping down to frighten the chickens and spook the cattle. When Grandpa and I went into town so he could play cards, the men talked incessantly about the war effort. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but it seemed to me that the evils of Mussolini and Hitler had actually made things better for the folks in Thayer County. The stores around the courthouse square, once struggling for survival, were crowded with customers. New shops and restaurants opened up, and they added an extra shift at the bakery.

One warm afternoon in September, I looked up North across the pasture and saw my cousins on two small ponies galloping toward our house. Having finished my chores, I ran out to greet Herb and Irvin. They were short robust boys whose pink cheeks glowed with innocence and good health

. “What shall we do today?” I asked, hoping each of them would offer me a turn to ride, as they usually did

. “We’re collecting milkweed pods,” Irvin announced. “You want to help?” The boys jumped to the ground, tied up the ponies, and produced a burlap onion bag. I looked at the dirty bag, feeling a rush of disappointment.

“What do we care about some old weeds?”

Irvin shot me a look. “Not weeds. Pods. It’s for the war. They use the silk inside the pods to make flotation devices. We might save a pilot’s life if we do this.”

Reluctantly, I trailed after them. The wind across the prairie scratched our eyes, and the prickly pods stung my fingers. I collected more pods than the two of them together. As we searched the brush and weeds alongside the road, I remembered the time when all we could hear on a Sunday afternoon was the mooing of cows and the honking of geese. Now, aircraft droned overhead, and the roads were clogged with convoy trucks.

An approaching jeep rumbled along the road in a cloud of dust and jerked to a stop. “What you boys up to?” asked one of the men.

“Collecting pods,” I replied.

The soldier in the driver’s seat tapped me on the shoulder. “We need your help. It’s urgent.”

I felt a stir of inner excitement. ‘Sure, what do you want us to do?”

“We’re looking for some wounded men.”

“They’re missing?” My pulse quickened. Had the war come right here to Thayer County? There had been worry we might be invaded when the government built the air base.

The soldier nodded. “Yes, one of our B-19’s lost an engine and the men bailed out. They could be hurt. You three boys spread out and see if you can find them, and have your folks call the base if you do.”

I took charge. “You go thataway,” I told Irvin, pointing to the tree row at the edge of their farm. “And you, Herb, go down toward the river. I’ll head for the pasture behind Grandpa’s house.”

Search planes thundered overhead, casting huge terrifying shadows across the land. At first, I ran so fast my lungs were on fire. But soon, I slowed down to catch my breath as I approached a field where stalks of wheat stood brown and ripe in the blazing sun. I imaged myself actively engaged in a military operation, feeling important and yet afraid of what I might find.

I saw it then: a flash of white blowing in the wind, the parachute billowing out like a tablecloth. My heart sped up as I saw the familiar drab green fatigues on the twisted body of a man lying on his side next to the fencepost.

My hands trembled. The guy must be in terrible pain. I had witnessed gory farm accidents and seen cows in agony during childbirth, and hated that gut wrenching feeling of helplessness in the face of suffering.

My knees went weak as I sank to the ground. The airman’s cap had come undone; his coppery hair gleamed like a new penny against the crusted earth. Upon the ghostly pallor of his face, his lips were dark as blueberries. His half opened eyes looked toward heaven. When I gasped his long thin fingers, they felt clammy as a Blue River Catfish.

They told us later he had broken his neck when he hit the fencepost.

That evening, there was leftover fried chicken for Sunday supper, but no one was hungry. I picked at my food as we sat around the big oak kitchen table. I wondered if the pilot had brothers and sisters, and thought of how terrible his parents would feel when they heard about their son’s fatal accident. I knew that someday I might have to go in the service, and hoped I would have the courage to face death in a place far from home

As if reading my thoughts, Mom touched my hand. “Don’t you worry, Son,” she said. “We’re going to win this war real soon, and after that, we’ll all live in peace. There won’t be any more wars in your lifetime.”

A PREACHER CALLED SINN is available on AMAZON @ http://bit.ly/1HOFqpG

May 28, 2021May 27, 2021

NAKED’S NOT NOVEL ANYMORE

Here in Indiana, Hoosiers are gearing up for another weekend of partying during the Indianapolis Motor Speedway 500 mile race. Fifty years ago, it was the one place where getting drunk and naked in public wouldn’t get you arrested. The excitement began on Carb Day, the Friday before the big event. Even if you didn’t care for the races, many of your friends and co-workers came back with pictures of drunken parties where men and women stripped and streaked with wild abandon. However, things have really toned down since Covid-19 changed everything. Last year, they scheduled a race without any fans at all. This year, they’ve canceled Carb Day, and only half as many tickets to the big race will be sold. But it doesn’t really matter, because naked’s not novel anymore.

Netflix and other streaming services have watered down the novelty of seeing naked strangers. Almost every other movie or TV series has at least one scene where someone isn’t wearing any clothes. Not only that, sex education is provided in the form of video demonstrations of the act. Consequently, there’s so much sex and nudity on television that it’s not even titillating. Remember when ankles were considered so erotic that porches were built so that a man would not see a lady’s ankles while ascending the stairs? Nowadays, who would get aroused at the sight of a woman’s ankles?

Anyone who grew up in Indiana has probably attended at least one Indianapolis 500 race. For most of us, it was about as exciting as watching paint dry. The only thing to relieve the boredom of seeing cars drive around the track was a hefty supply of alcohol in the cooler under your seat. Nevertheless, diehard race fans thrive on the possibility of carnage when a driver hits the wall at a speed of 257 miles per hour.

As a result, there’s still a lot of hype surrounding the race. The city throbs with excitement, and you see women in ball gowns entering hotels at all hours of the day and night. There will always be sponsors who host festive galas. It’s probably the highlight of the social season in Indianapolis. Still, you wonder what will happen to attendance now that naked’s not novel anymore.

May 26, 2021May 26, 2021

Bright squishy cicadas have a message

It’s hard to believe, but I had never seen a cicada until last night. Some of you may not have heard of them, so I’ll explain. They’re insects that only come out of the ground in the eastern United States of America every 17 years. They make noises that some find offensive, but to me they’re more like a chorus of chirping birds in a nest. Seems their only purpose in life is to mate, lay eggs and die about 6 weeks later. The eggs hibernate for 17 years, and emerge at a predictable time of the year when the earth is warm enough . It’s very mysterious, but to me, these bright squishy cicadas have a message.

They say some people eat the cicadas. I suppose if you were starving, it would make sense. Apparently, they’re a good source of protein. But fried cicadas? Baked cicadas? Cicada Stew? No thanks.

Back to my first spotting last night. About ten of them were crawling on my deck while I watered the flowers. They didn’t like getting sprayed . Some of them simply squiggled around or fell on their backs when the water hit. Although they’re much bigger than bumble bees, they aren’t at all aggressive. In fact, they strike me as wimps. They didn’t come after this giant who stood over them, rudely intruding on their day in the sun.

Soft, squishy cicadas have a message. Life goes on, even after covid-19 — Soft squishy cicadas have a message. Life goes on, in spite of plagues and wars.

What are cicadas trying to tell we human beings? To me, they’re saying that life comes and goes, and that we haven’t nearly as much control as we’d like to believe. They have a message: Just do whatever you were destined for on this earth, but don’t expect the good times to last forever. . Wars may be fought. Nations may rise and fall. Glaciers will melt. But the cicadas will come out every 17 years, no matter what.

And the beat goes on.

May 24, 2021May 24, 2021

FINALLY, AFTER SIXTY SUNDAYS

Before the pandemic hit, my husband took me out every Sunday for brunch. It didn’t seem like anything that spectacular—just a way to make the day a bit more special, and relieve me of having to cook a meal. And then the covid-19 pandemic gripped the nation. At first, we weren’t too worried here in the Heartland. Only one or two new cases a day. And then it began to skyrocket. Hundreds of cases, numerous deaths in what we had considered our safe little city. The Sunday brunches we had taken for granted came to a grinding halt. And now, finally, after sixty Sundays of frying bacon & eggs, fixing toast, peeling oranges, making hot chocolate– my days of fixing Sunday brunch at home had ended. Hallelujah!

And yet, as I was preparing to get dressed, I was surprised to feel a bit of social anxiety. What should I wear? There were clothes hanging in my closet from two summers ago, that I hadn’t worn since. During that last, lost summer, I wore nothing but old jeans and shorts and t shirts. After all, I was wearing a mask. No one would recognize me at the supermarket. . There was no point in wearing makeup, or caring about my appearance at all. Now, I was going out in public, barefaced. . It gave me a bit a stage fright.

Surprisingly, my old pants and tops still fit. I’ve gained a pound or two, but not enough to bump me up a size. That was a big relief. But was my summer apparel outdated? Were people still wearing culottes? I finally decided on an outfit that hadn’t been worn since the summer of 2019. Consequently, looking at myself in the mirror surprised me. I looked okay. When we were ready to leave, my husband and I eyed one another with approval. It had been a very long time since we had been that “dressed up.”

Finally, after sixty Sundays, we were able to eat at a restaurant without wearing a mak — Finally, after sixty Sundays, we seniors could go to a restaurant without wearing a mask.

The restaurant was nearly full, and few customer’s wore masks. The wait staff was still masked, and I felt sorry for them, knowing how hot and sweaty they feel after an hour or so. Otherwise, things seemed pretty normal. There were no surprising new fashions to make me feel out of date. People were dressed much the same as they had sixty Sundays ago. Men in shirts and shorts, women in slacks and sundresses. Little kids so excited that they could barely finish their meals. As we walked out the door, a wave of contentment washed over me. Finally, after sixty Sundays, things were getting back to normal.

May 21, 2021May 22, 2021

UTILITY MONOPOLIES SQUELCH COMPLAINTS

Most of us never give a thought to our electricity. It’s either on, or off. Power outages leave us at the mercy of providers like Duke Energy. If we’re dissatisfied with some aspect of our service or the fees we pay, there is absolutely nothing we can do. We may complain, shout, threaten. But to them, we’re a tinkling cymbal or sounding brass. They know they have us in a chokehold. We have to have electricity, and they’re the only game in town. Utility monopolies squelch complaints.

ELECTRIC MONOPOLIES SQUELCH COMPLAINTS. They'd rather wait for a tree or pole to cause a power outage than try to prevent it. — Electric utilities squelch complaints about potentially dangerous situations. Rather than asking someone to trim a tree, they’d rather wait for an actual power outage.

We live on the edge of town, surrounded by ancient trees that are often uprooted or drop massive limbs after a storm. In an odd arrangement decided decades ago, the electric company placed poles in every other yard, rather than on each customer’s own property. In this particular case, a neighbor’s tree dropped a huge limb as it lurched forward, hovering over the pole and power lines leading to our house.

We’ve experienced power outages before, and they are not fun if you don’t own a generator, have a gas stove, or other source of energy. The house is dark and cold. You can’t make coffee or heat up a can of soup. If it goes on too long, you try and find a motel where you can spend the night.

Consequently, I called the electric company to alert them to a possible power outage if the neighbor’s leaning tree and pole continue their downward trajectory. In addition, several lines are entangled in the wayward tree limbs, causing the lines to sag under their weight. I asked if someone could come out and evaluate the situation. They rudely replied, “we don’t trim trees and we can’t ask a homeowner to trim his tree.” This translated to a refusal to spend a few minutes checking on a potentially dangerous situation. Yes, I argued and complained, but they didn’t budge. It appeared they would rather wait for the tree or pole to fall , rather than doing anything to prevent a power outage.

In desperation, I resorted to an analogy. I said, “What if I called the police and reported that some deranged person had an unauthorized gun. Should they check it out or fall back on some legal reason not to? Would you agree with their decision to ignore the situation until the gun was actually used to commit a crime?.” The Duke Energy representative had no response. I think the question had her flummoxed.

Electric Utilities squelch complaints in some states. But other states are trying to change taat. — Electric utilities squelch complaints in Indiana. But some states are eliminating electric company monopolies.

When I called the city engineer and contacted the mayor’s officer, I hit a brick wall. After I repeated the above analogy, I heard the same mantra:: ‘the electric company is a private entity, over which the city has no control.” Therefore, what I’m hearing is that no one controls the electric utility company service in our city. They can do what they please, and get away with it.

As a result, we must live in suspense, watching and waiting to see if the tree and utility pole’s forward movement continues, which would destroy our fence and cut off our power. It may not happen. But if it does, it will be a costly accident that could have been prevented. Utility monopolies squelch citizens complaints and should be abolished.

May 19, 2021May 19, 2021

WARNING! WALK OUTSIDE MAY BE UNHEALTHY

Walking is considered the number one way to lose weight, postpone aging, and provide a host of other benefits. But some days, it could be hazardous to your health . As an example, I decided to walk in the park on a Saturday afternoon. The tennis courts were full. A baseball game was taking place. There were few places left where you could sit on a blanket and enjoy some peace and quiet. The roads were lined with parked cars and a constant stream of traffic. Every shelter was filled with people using the barbecue pits. Consequently, the air was hazy with smoke. I found a parking place and set out to walk. All of a sudden, I felt dizzy and a bit shaky. My throat burned, and my eyes itched. Therefore, I turned around and walked back to my car. I hadn’t even done a mile. Warning! A walk outside may be unhealthy.

Back home that day, I felt a bit disgusted with myself. Why had I given up on my walk? Was I becoming a wimp? I picked up my new iPhone, and looked at the weather app. Scrolling down, I noticed something that had never really interested me before: Air Quality Index. That day, it was a high 154. Consequently, this meant that walking outside was bad for almost everyone, but especially sensitive people. At my age, I guess I fit into that category. As a result, walking in the park had not been a good idea. However, I could have walked in the mall if I wanted the exercise. . But who wants to walk inside on a sunny day?

WARNING! WALK OUTSIDE MAY BE UNHEALTHY. i When the air quality index is too high it can cause many respiratory problems. — Warning! Walk outside may be unhealthy if the air is polluted.

Much to my relief, I checked the air quality index today, and it was back down to a good 30. However it’s raining. Maybe it will clear up this afternoon. It’s depressing to realize that many of my walks during the past few years have actually been bad for my health. From now on, I won’t walk in the park until after I’ve checked the air quality.

Air pollution is caused by solid and liquid particles and certain gases suspended in the air. These can come from car and truck exhaust, factories, dust, pollen, mold spores, volcanoes and wildfires.

Poor air quality may cause the following health symptoms in sensitive people:

. Headache

. Fatigue

. Shortness of breath

. Sinus congestion

. Coughing

. Sneezing

. Dizziness

.Nausea

Be sure to check the air quality index before walking in the park. You’re not a wimp if you decide to stay inside that day.

May 17, 2021May 17, 2021

5 HOME REMEDIES FOR SPRING ARTHRITIS

How do you like this damp, cool spring weather? It’s better than a searing hot day in July, that’s for sure. Trouble is, it’s hard on those of us with arthritis. Did you know that 50% of folks over 65 have it? My husband’s physical therapist said this weather has been really rough on arthritis patients. We know it won’t last forever, but we’d like to lessen the pain without resorting to extra painkillers. Over the years, and after numerous therapy sessions, I have come to rely on these 5 home remedies for spring arthritis. All are available online,

Massaging Wrap

You can go online and find a wrap for almost every part of your body—knees, back, shoulders, whatever. The one I like was originally designed for knees but it works great on my shoulders, too. It has 3 buttons: massage, heater, timer. If it gets too hot, you can turn off the heat, and continue with a massage. If you use it a lot, you have to recharge the battery pretty often, but it’s not a big problem.

2. Cold packs

I like the ones that come with a wrap, and a strap, because you can tie them around your arm, leg, or waist while you read or watch TV. I don’t use cold packs very often, but some people alternate between heat and cold therapy. They use the heat to warm up a joint before exercise, and cold therapy to reduce the swelling afterwards.

3. Hot rolling massager

This is a little bit more complicated than the wrap . It’s a fairly heavy device, and the one I use isn’t battery operated. It’s plugged into an electric outlet. Which means that if I turn the wrong way, it’s apt to become unplugged. However, it gives a really deep massage, along with a gentle heat—actually much less heat than the massaging wrap. The first time I used it on my back, I was amazed how many sore spots I wasn’t even aware of. It’s really versatile. Can be used on shoulders, neck, back or knees. Just about anywhere you feel joint pain. It’s timed for 20 minutes, which is about as much as you can take because it gives you a pretty hard massage. But I guarantee you will sleep better that ni

Tens Unit. (Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation) is used for nerve related pain conditions. The machine works by sending pulses across the surface of the skin and along the nerve strands. The pulses help prevent the pain signals from reaching the brain. This is actually my favorite pain relief device because it’s so portable. I can pack it in an overnight bag if I’m going for an out of town visit. There nothing like a long road or plane trip to cause an arthritis flare up. Not to worry. 20 minutes of Tens takes care of the pain. They’re relatively inexpensive and the tabs are easily replaced.

5 Home Remedies for Spring Arthritis include heat, cold packs, tens and Bio-Freeze.
Bio-Freeze or Vicks VapoRub. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I just rub some of the menthol product, Bio Freeze, into my skin, and I’m back to sleep in minutes. Surprisingly, old fashioned Vicks VapoRub also provides menthol , with some added camphor. You’re not supposed to use Vicks all the time like you do Bio-Freeze, because the camphor can build up in your system. But it’s a good substitute if you’ve run out of Bio-Freeze.

Soon, we’ll be sweating away in the sunlight, watching the INDY 500 or having a picnic in the park on Memorial Day. Hopefully, the aches and pains will ease. But if they don’t, you can always fall back on these 5 home remedies for Arthritis.