Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

May 1, 2008

 Today’s Announcement

Happy brithday wishes goes out to Christopher Shively, please send your cards and well wishes to:  merribuck@aol.com, or meribuck@aol.com sorry I forgot the right spelling.

My son in law, Earl Schneider, Sr is not improving.  The pneumonia has moved into the other lung and he is is under sedation due to the necessary pain medication that is being administered plus he remains on oxygen.  My daughter spent the night with him but the dr sent her home this morning so she is resting as I sleep but must be back on the job at 5p.m.  I will, hopefully, update you as situations change.  Thank you in advance for your continued prayers.    'We serve an awesome God who is still in the business of healing' Norma: hoopla214@yahoo.com

Call for submissions:  Storytime Tapestry is in need of more stories, please keep them coming in.

Help support the continued running of Storytime Tapestry join me on mylot and get paid while we talk to each other and others all over the world:  http://www.mylot.com/?ref=winterose  if the link doesn’t work just cut and paste

From my son Steven Roach:

I was thinking you should advertise the link regularly in your newsletter if the link doesn’t work just cut and paste

 
http://greenhorse.com/join_now.ghc?r=177952857
 
tell them it would help support the newsletter and they can earn money from it. They need to sign up and install it but they don't need to do anything else. They just do what they normally would anyways on the net and they earn money while it’s on. In other words they just keep it running while they are online. It’s small doesn't take up much system resources and they can earn more if they advertise their own link and get people under them as well. Let them know some people make 5-10$ a day on it and its been open since 2002. 

Don’t forget to order your copy of Angels Watching Over Me, the story of an ordinary woman facing less than ordinary challenges.  Angels Watching Over Me is a story of family love, sacrifices, poverty and an undying faith that makes heroes out of all of us. Here is the link in case you have forgotten it: http://www.lulu.com/content/964306

Important notice: Storytime Tapestry is a free e-zine, however donations are always needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   You can make your donations to paypal at: winterose@videotron.ca, or if you would prefer to use the mail system contact the publisher at the same email address: winterose@videotron.ca

 ~**~**~

   My Mother's Memory Lane
Bill Walker
missourisage@yahoo.com

Memory Lane, I  think every one has a memory lane. Some have a
beautiful memory lane, for others it may not be so beautiful, and  I
guess some have a mixed bag. I was thinking of my mother and her
memory lane. This might be on the order of the book. "Tale of Two
Cities." In this story I must take you back in time to the late
1800s. This story will take you back to her mother, and a sister of her
mother. The difference in their lives. Maybe you will understand why
people grew up with  their thinking on many matters. Maybe this
story is many memory lanes.

Back about 1880 or thereabouts, these two, and two brothers found
themselves in a very bad place in life. The mother and father both
died, leaving the four on a rock farm in Arkansas. The oldest boy
named Chester, did his best at holding the kids together, but knew that
he was between a rock and a hard place. One morning he got up, told
the others to stay put, he was going to try to find help. He took out on
the road, never to this day  what happened to him is known. But in a
couple days or so, some Aunts. and Uncles showed up. They figured out to
take the three kids in, giving them a place to live of sorts. Each
got a place, and was split up, never to be together again. That is
the growing up part.. Now I was taught the use of the words Aunt and
Uncle. So Aunt Lena, went to a good home, she got to go to school,
and did even make it to  college. She was the lucky one of the three.
Uncle Frank and my Grandmother was not so lucky. The homes, if that
is what those can be called, were more  the type for a white slave.
Forget the school of any kind. My Grandmother,  never got any
schooling. Her writing was so bad, it was impossible to read.
Mother could figure out what her writing was about, I was totally lost
on it. Looked like a bunch of a 3 year old kid scribble stuff, and
maybe not that good even.

Now some how all three of them ended up around Thayer, Missouri, which
is just across the state line from Mammoth Springs, Arkansas. I
must tell you a Grandmother story here, I remember her telling this
story. One day, the family she was stuck with loaded up in the wagon,
and went to town, leaving her in the shack, with Mr.King Snake. Now
she told this, most every one in those hills, had a King Snake in the
house, to keep the mice and rat numbers down. This day Mr. King Snake
was near the fire place to keep warm. She had no use for Mr.King
Snake, and all at once she could take it no longer. Mr. King Snake got
real warm, in other words, it found itself in the fire place. When
the tribe did get back to the shack, she had no clue when snake parted
company.

Uncle Frank I don't know much about, but from what little I did
learn, he had it tough also. Best I know, he was  kind of handy
man. He did yard work, and other jobs that made him a living. Also
somewhere he learned how to be a fair cook, he would at times land a
job on work gangs, railroads and such as a cook. He always seemed to
have a little money when I knew of him. Not much, but a few
dollars. He never married.

Now some how all three of them ended up around Thayer, Missouri, which
is just across the state line from Mammoth Springs, Arkansas. I
must tell you a Grandmother story here, I remember her telling this
story. One day, the family she was stuck with loaded up in the wagon,
and went to town, leaving her in the shack, with Mr.King Snake. Now
she told this, most every one in those hills, had a King Snake in the
house, to keep the mice and rat numbers down. This day Mr. King Snake
was near the fire place to keep warm. She had no use for Mr.King
Snake, and all at once she could take it no longer. Mr. King Snake got
real warm, in other words, it found itself in the fire place. When
the tribe did get back to the shack, she had no clue when snake parted
company.

Uncle Frank I don't know much about, but from what little I did
learn, he had it tough also. Best I know, he was  kind of handy
man. He did yard work, and other jobs that made him a living. Also
somewhere he learned how to be a fair cook, he would at times land a
job on work gangs, railroads and such as a cook. He always seemed to
have a little money when I knew of him. Not much, but a few
dollars. He never married.

Aunt Lena, she found a farmer to get hitched to, and a daughter came
along. Goldie, Goldie lived up to her name. She went to college, and
grabbed a sheep skin. I can still hear her telling about growing up,
and becoming a real smart girl, Pa was a good Republican, and she was in
the same mold. Goldie grabbed a railroader for a husband. He was a
farmer to start with, but farming was a tough act on a rock farm, and
the railroaders went on a strike, and the railroads hired scabs to take
the jobs. He took a job, and when the strike was over he stayed on.
He found out he wasn't too well liked at times.

When Grandmother was about 17, a fellow took a look at her, and figured
she was maybe wife stuff. He was in his 50s, had a rock farm, was a
right good buyer and seller of cattle, and many other things. She
took the offer, after all what did she have going for her?
From this came 7 kids over a time span of about 15 years. He died in
1914, leaving her, and kids ranging from almost 16, to 2 years of
age. Uncle Homer was the oldest, and he tried to do the farming, but
his dad  had made a loan for a couple hundred dollars. and he couldn't
make enough money to pay off crooked banker. Farm and every thing was
sold to the Bennett's. Mother hated the Bennett's to her last I do
believe. I remember traveling the roads that way, pass a farm with
the name Bennett on the mail box. and the words was, "those are some of
the people that stole our farm."

The tribe moved to Thayer from the village of Myrtle,  the farm was
about 3 or so miles out. Homer kept the prize Belgian horses, Prince
and Bailey. He did plowing for people with those two,, and he worked
with a wagon hauling freight, made a little money. The other kids as
they grew to the age, and got through 8th grade, went to work at the old
hotel, and cafe. Grandmother did house work, and washing the laundry
for the cafe and hotel on a scrub board. Then some one got a new
machine that did some of the washing, and she lost that job. Another
Grandmother story. One day she took on a house cleaning job, worked
all day, the lady of the house paid her with a dime. Grandmother
looked at the dime, and as bad as she needed a dime, she dropped
it on the floor, and told the old sister, "if that was all a days work
was worth, keep the dime."

About 1922 Grandmother figured the pickings might be better in the big
city of Springfield. She packed them all on the train, leaving my mother
a girl of then about 15 at the hotel, mother, I think was the only one
with a job waiting tables. She and another poor girl shared a room at
the hotel. Best I remember Homer had moved to Springfield and found
work. Prince and Bailey was long gone. Mother said she cried
herself to sleep, seeing them go on the selling block.

Now this hotel was a lay over for railroaders. This room had a door
going into another room, but there was a chest of drawers blocking the
door, the door opened into the girls room. One night they woke to
find two railroaders with ideas. Mother said she screamed, and both made
a retreat through the door. The case was open and shut, that is the
chest could not be pulled back in place. Strange things do happen in
this life. One of the rotten suckers later became shirt tail
relation. Mr. White had a daughter who married my dad's brother. I
guess that rates as shirt tail, I sure don't claim to know of that bunch
of crooks. How does the saying go? You can pick friends, relation
some times you are just stuck with.

 Uncle Frank, the next morning, came up with the train fare, and got
mother on the road to Springfield. Good Ole Uncle Frank. She has
no trouble finding a job there, the Colonel Hotel, the prime hotel of
its day, she went to work there. After some time she went to a place
called Traps. It was a bit closer to the place the tribe lived.
Uncle Homer was working there also, as the dish washer, and other
tasks. There was a fellow working there by the name of O.J. he was
the cook. Working on his road to become a Chef. Uncle Homer, I
think made some match making. Any ways on Feb, 4, 1929 the two walked
to the court house, and became man and wife. Lived together till Dec 22,
1968 and dad went home to Heaven. I came along Sept 7, 1930.

Uncle Homer was hit by a drunken taxi driver on the corner of Grant, and
College St. Died a few days later from the injuries. The date was
Feb 22, 1931. I have poor Uncle Homer's pocket watch, his prize
watch, no amount of money will buy it. I can still hear dad saying.
"Bill your Uncle Homer was a Prince of a fellow."

When I go down that way, Springfield to Thayer, and then the 15 or so
miles to Myrtle, I am home, I travel Mother's Memory Lane.

Dad planted flowers that bloom every year on both Uncle Frank's and
Uncle Homer's graves. Uncle Frank is out there in the sticks at a place
called Davis Cemetery, all by himself. I know the crooks and turns. I
stop, and say "Hi Uncle Frank." Uncle Homer is with Grandmother and
Grandfather George C.Sonner at Myrtle.

Grandmothers maiden name was Goode, when she said it, it came out
Goude. In Uncle Franks last minutes, he looked to one side, said." Oh
Chet, at last I found you."

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

 Dear Friends...

I am leaving in the morning for Morton, Illinois, for the Wall That Heals, May 1 - 4th. If you're in the area, drop by...... I'd love to see you.

"Listen attentively, and remember that true tales are meant to be transmitted --- to keep them to oneself is to betray them."

--- Anonymous

So, complete with battle pictures, graphics and music, I present this poetic trilogy:

"We Were Soldiers," ... and on my website, "Eye of the Tiger," ... "Combat,"

http://namtour.com/WeWereSoldiers.html

We Were Soldiers

by Gary Jacobson © 2003
We were soldiers enlisted to glory’s gang
Carried on silken wings to the dreaded Ia Drang.
This prized generation of youthful princes
Modern cavalrymen dropped in on war by steel horses
Mid stirring, whirring helicopters rhythmical cadences
Staccato beats pounding whomp-whomp-whomp
Still echoe in old cavalrymen’s ears like warhorse's hooves
clomp-clomp-clomp.

We were soldiers, ghosts on steel horses coursing
Blasting out of ethereal mists hammering
Devastating fearsome air with bristling beats pulsing
Riding carnivorous birds of prey high in the sky
Predacious like raptorial eagles we fly
Hearts palpitating, throbbing, drumming
Swooping from recesses of the sky to earth plummeting
In one fell rush the very foundations of hell assaulting.

We were soldiers, inviolable hope of all creation
Future hope incarnate of our nation
America’s boys truly the cream of the crop
Told of bullies who made very valor stop
Roaming relentlessly war’s hating backdrop...
Brutalized...
Traumatized...
Deadened nerves by war cauterized.

We were soldiers invincible, bearing royal ancestry
Come carrying gifts to set a noble people free
With every nerve, fiber, sinew of bountiful being
Even with body counts ever higher careening
Into the maw of Hell we just went ... where we were sent
Baring predatory talons of eagle’s claw
To evil minions who at bastions of freedom gnaw.

We were soldiers who in good faith believed
Lessons taught by goodly fathers received
Courageous spirits beyond glories conceived
Stalwart in duty these true-blue, real men
Princes sent in disciplined dignity to Vietnam
Truly the apple of our nation’s eye
Burned into our hearts duty's resolute sigh...
Ours but to do or die.

We were soldiers led by battle tested warriors
Guided by spirits of valiant conquerors
Smiling in the face of war’s terrible oppressors
Believing God Himself inspired our leaders
Divinity stood behind every tactical decision
To weed out the cankers by righteous precision
Guided by the Almighty to make surgical incision.

We were soldiers from the land of milk and honey
Called by God to defend freedom’s democracy
With all glory to His name, to restore repressed liberty
To dispatch foul evils with boyish faith’s bright certainty
Fighting hand-to-hand this great calling to magnify
To the death in elephant grasses of Albany eye-high.

We were soldiers invited by an impoverished nation
To restore their rights of self determination.
Boys fresh as a new born whelp
Come because God, country, Vietnam wanted our help
Bearing unexcelled bravery
In war’s foofaraws boys aged too quickly
Men matured by the dying suddenly.

To the Ia Drang came men of the 1st Air Cavalry
Wearing black and yellow patches distinctively
With the black horse head silhouette
Destruction flying thick as dripping sweat
Dodging as in play, war’s blazing bullet ballet
Jumped into a hot LZ
Explosively!

We were soldiers of a great nation
Boys led by veterans who earned honors adulation
From the South Pacific to battlefields European
To Korea’s frozen Chosin
Now outnumbered 6-1 by fighting mad NVA
Life a fleeting thing tenuously at bay
Growing extinct in the jungle that day.

We were soldiers sent to the Ia Drang
Faith impregnable from which very freedom sprang
Rude death a constant familiar of serpent’s fang
Boys fought for their lives as heavenly chorus sang
Earning hard their monthly $99.37 bill of fare
Flying into the heart of the enemies lair
Beaucoup fighting more than bargained for there.

We were soldiers driven hard by enemy all around
Combatant blood brothers who the enemy surround
So I surmise, this profound thought to propound
"Dinky dau" war stinks!
Indeed in battle the very word love...shrinks
Death’s common denominator, just us and the dinks
Dueling with enmity as knowing heaven winks.

We were soldiers, just surviving to get back to “the world”
Who a "Xin Loi" attitude to enemies unfurled
Momentary peace only found by killing
Valiant foes who would end your life willing.
Yet transcendent love is ever abiding
Ties that eternally bind arise on the battlefields
Before this greater bond, all hatred yields.

We were war weary soldiers who truly loved one another
Loved our fellows as a brother
Watched the backs of each other
Killed for each other
Lived for each other
Died for each other
Wept for each other!

Soldiers focus only on the man on the left hand
Just surviving with the man on the right hand
There’s no one else doing battle with brutal northern barbarian
War tested Peoples Army of Vietnam...PAVN
Than Soldiers gone to hell and back for ideals American.
Ia Drang memories forever burn indelibly in our soul
Too many brave men there heard final liberty bells toll.
Three hundred five Ia Drang soldiers answered the call
Now finding eternal peace resting on a hallowed wall.

We who were soldiers, salute you, my brothers all!

I would appreciate your vote for "Vietnam Picture
Tour!" as a "Top Military Site,"
at "Veterans Topsites." Just Click this link:
http://www.worldwidetopsites.com/php/in.php?id=knights
Whether you vote once, every day, or now and then...
Thank You!

Gary
Gary Jacobson
"Vietnam Picture Tour,"

jacobs@atcnet.net

http://namtour.com/namtour.html
A walk in "the park" grunts called Vietnam, with the
1st Air Cavalry on combat patrol. Experience chilling
reality to leave the sweet and sour taste of "the Nam"
pungent on your tongue, the smell of "the Nam" acrid
in your nostrils, and textures of "the Nam" imbedded
in you as though you were walking beside me in combat.

My poignant poems directory, pictures and artwork to
show the essence and feeling of war on young "boys
next door,"
http://namtour.com/nampoemsNpix.html

"Realm Of Poetry,"
http://dreamerzz.tripod.com/SiteMap.html
Poems of love and romance, spirituality and
meditation, Golden Oldies, comedy, Quests of the regal
knight Richard Lionheart to the crusades and seeking
the Holy Grail, dueling dragons, frolicking fairies,
and comedy....and also links to my site of that foul
ogre called war...

~**~**~

  Mailbox

The Battle between Faith and Fear by Janet Perez Eckles: Got awareness.  Fear of the unknown is a difficult task to overcome but with your specification help is on the way. Georgewaters Ojeigbe, Lagos, Nigeria gojiegbe@jhplc.com

Carol,
    You are such a good friend.  Thanks for always sharing
the kind remarks others send in about me.  You are in my
prayers.  God bless you always.  Joe

Here is our Storytime Tapestry Angels: Also, I would like to thank those of you who chose to be a silent angel and gave an anonymous donation to keep Storytime Tapestry up and running.

Clara Westerfer, Mark Crider, Rosanne Catalano, Paula Booher, Kay Seefeldt, Mariane Holbrook, Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker, Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, Ginger Morgenstern, Ellie Braun-Haley, Surinder Jandu, Bob Shaw, Carol Meeks, Charlotte Hilliard, Marilyn Sink, Victor Buhagiar, Clarice Hinson, Conrad