Taps

Every veteran knows “'Taps.” It’s the haunting tune we’ve heard from our
bunks at lights out. Traditionally played at funerals, it’s a tune that gives us a
lump in our throats.

But, do you know the story behind the song?

Reportedly, it originated in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army
Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in
Virginia . The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of
land.

During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay
severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate
soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for
medical attention Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain
reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment.

When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a
Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The Captain lit a lantern and
suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he
saw the face of the soldier.

It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the
war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy had enlisted in the
Confederate Army.

The morning after finding his son dead on the battlefield, the heartbroken
father asked permission to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy
status. His request was only partially granted.

The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a
funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down as the
soldier was a Confederate.

But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one
musician.

The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical
notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's
uniform.

This wish was granted. The haunting melody, we now know as 'Taps' used at
military funerals was born.

The words are:

Day is done.
Gone the sun.
From the lakes
From the hills.
From the sky.
All is well.
Safely rest.
God is nigh.

Fading light.
Dims the sight.
And a star.
Gems the sky.
Gleaming bright.
From afar.
Drawing nigh.
Falls the night.

Thanks and praise.
For our days.
Neath the sun
Neath the stars.
Neath the sky.
As we go.
This we know.
God is nigh

We have all felt the chills while listening to “Taps” but few the words of the
song until now. Remember next time you hear this tune or find yourself in
trouble: God is nigh.

What a job!

One of the most recent heroes we're helping is a young Army medic with about a dozen pieces of shrapnel in his brain and much of both hands gone. Specialist Kevin H. was driving a humvee in a convoy behind a tank when a rocket fired by an Islamic terrorist intended for the tank blasted through Kevin's vehicle.

Kevin is the kind of guy any father would be proud to have as a son. The last year has been filled with pain and struggle and suffering for Kevin, but he never complains and is positive and upbeat.
His dream is to have his own home near Fort Hood, Texas and to become a teacher. (He was thinking law enforcement as a career but he no longer has a trigger finger.)

We are helping Kevin reach both of those goals. Thanks to his five years of military service, he has plenty of education credit, so that part is already largely taken care of. Right now, we're focused on finding him a home. We're a small charity without the funds to just outright buy a house for Kevin and his almost-fiance, but we're seeking help from other charities. And, hey, if you feel an overpowering urge to make a contribution earmarked for him, don't let reading this blog get in your way!

While our goal is to attract the resrouces necessary to give him a home outright, plan "B" is to find a foreclosure in Copperas Cove, Texas, put up the cash for the down payment, get a loan from a local lender. The median price of a home there is $102,200. We're looking for one we can pick up for around $50,000 to $60,000.

Even with his mangled hands, Kevin could do a lot of the work needed to fix up a place with lots of deferred maintenance. Plus, we think that working with Mary Smith, the president of the local Chamber of Commerce, we ought to be able to find some good Texas volunteers to pitch in. Hopefully, with, say, $20,000 invested in rehab, Kevin can make that $50,000 house worth $110,000 to $120,000. By adding that $50,000 to $60,000 in value to the house, he should be able to borrow $100,000 which would give him a mortgage payment of about $600 a month.

As he will probably get about 90% disability payment from Uncle Sam, this should be very affordable. That $50,000+ equity would give him enough working capital to buy another foreclosure and fix it up and flip it or rent it. Plus pay OurFinest.Org back the down payment so we can use it to help another wounded warrior.

So, that's our worst case plan to get Kevin started on a new life. It's not as good as giving him a house outright, but we think it's a workable plan. Any thoughts?

The very best thing about running OurFinest.Org is the chance to meet heroes like Kevin and their families. Kevin is blessed with a Super Mom, a woman with all the protective drive of a mother bear for her cubs. I sent her an email this morning thanking her for all the help in going after resources that might be available for Kevin and complimented her on her energetic support and got the following response:

"Ahh Mark – that was so very sweet of you to say – yes, indeed, I have a great deal of love and support for our son Kevin, as I do for each of our sons. It’s only natural, don’t you think? Indeed, I am extremely motivated and very supportive of him, and of course only want to make all his dreams become a reality….. I have attempted to maintain clear and accurate contact information since Kevin’s injury on September 30 of ’07 – it’s hard to believe it has been over a year. I am longing for that precious day for him to be totally out of D.C. and on with his life in hopefully Texas – and the Ft. Hood/Copperas Cove area. I want so very much for all his dreams to become a reality. I forwarded Kevin your last email so he too knows how very hard you are working on everything Mark – thank you from the bottom of our hearts!!! "

So do I have a great job or what? While a paycheck does not come with the job -- OurFinest is an all volunteer organization -- the appreciation of people like Kevin and his Mom is worth more than gold.

While I served four years in the U.S. Navy, my military career was undistinguished: just a swabby on an aircraft carrier. I'm no hero but I am so grateful that I get to hang with heroes.

Warrior care!

Christmas on patrol

This morning, I was reflecting on what our wounded warriors need and want. My experience is that most of all they want to know that their sacrifice means something, that their pain and suffering and loss of the life they would have lived if whole and healthy is appreciated. These heroes and their families have a great many needs.

But perhaps most of all, they need to hear from you this Christmas. In the midst of these reflections, I received the following poem from Corporal Jacob Schick, USMC RET.

The Sentry's Christmas

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,

I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,

My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,

Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,

Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,

Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.

In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,

So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,

But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the

sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,

And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,

A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,

Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,

Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,

"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,

You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,

Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light

Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,

I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."

"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,

That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"

Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram

always remembers."

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',

And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,

But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,

The red, white, and blue... an American flag.

I can live through the cold and the being alone,

Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,

I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

I can carry the weight of killing another,

Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,

To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,

Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."

"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,

"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a

feast?

It seems all too little for all that you've done,

For being away from your wife and your son."

Then in his eye welled a tear that held no regret,

"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,

To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,

To know you remember we fought and we bled.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,

That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
* * *
Take a moment to pray for those who serve.

A Foundation of Trust

The cornerstone of what we here attempt to build is community. The foundation of any genuine community is trust. We seek to build something that will last for centuries. The pyramids built by the ancient Egyptians remain standing today, because their builders gave them an enduring foundation.

We want to do the same. We are not any better, nor a whole lot worse, than the average person. We are just as prone to error as anyone. So, our only hope of creating an enduring foundation of trust is to operate entirely in the open, completely subject to observation, analysis, criticism.

We intend to build trust by deserving it. This is not to say that we won't make mistakes. All we can guarantee is that we will persevere in trying to get it right. Though we may err, at least we will do our best to be open to correction.

It has been said that the truth in any proposition varies in inverse proportion to its argumentative defense. So, we're going to try to avoid defensiveness. Anything we say or do is open to your -- or anyone else's -- criticism.

While we are totally devoted to warrior care, our ultimate mission transcends even this lofty purpose. As much as we love our wounded warriors, what we would really like to do is to dramatically change the future so as to remove the inevitability of the wars which tear apart the bodies of our best and bravest.

The only force capable of this, in our view, is universal education. Our ultimate goal is to launch the greatest school in all of human history. We envision not just a new and better university, but a new paradigm for education, a superuniversity, a great Temple of Truth served by scholars whose lives are dedicated to the quest for knowledge, wisdom, truth. The purpose of this school is to teach people how to live better lives.

But it is not just learned, reasoned, civil discourse that we seek to advance. We want to create a school that welcomes everyone who wants to learn, that accepts each student as he is and develops a comprehensively individualized curriculum just for that person. As each individual is unique, so will each program of instruction be unique.

In order to dissipate the dark clouds of ignorance which threaten to engulf our planet, we must create the greatest school that ever existed. The bad news is that we are completely incompetent to achieve such an enterprise. The good news is that virtually everything needed to create such a school is already at hand. What we cannot do when few in numbers, we can do together, working together as an army of non-violent but assertive intellectual warriors.

What we need to do is to raise the banner and sound the call to arms. Let every honest student and every true scholar step forward. If you love the truth and are willing to follow it wherever it leads, in this you have the only required credentials. You are part, if you wish, of one of the noblest enterprises ever attempted.

If we are successful, we shall change the world. If we fail, we fail knowing that our cause is just and good. We also know that ultimate victory for our cause -- be in eons in the future -- is certain, for the final victory for truth is inevitable. The world of which we dare to dream -- the vision of a peaceful paradise crowned by truth, beauty, and goodness which has inspired dreamers of all ages -- will not appear in our time.

But if we fail to struggle to move humanity towards that goal, it will be that much farther in the future and its attainment will be the achievement of others, not ours. We have faith in the goodness of God and in the ultimate triumph of his plan for humanity. Like other visionaries, we know that we will not reach the promised land. But we see it, and to know that through our efforts it shall be obtained is enough.

I wish it were possible to talk about these things without grandiosity, but I just don't know how. I have to give up my fear of being thought mad. Besides, history suggests that being thought insane is a necessary if insufficient criterion for greatness. Regardless of others' opinion, I know what I know and I shall do what I can do.

On January 1, 2009, we plan to officially launch this community. By now, a smart person like you will have figured out that you will receive an enthusiastic welcome if you want to help.