Where I Run: the Death of William Rihl

(photo credit here)

About 3 miles from my home, some 147 years ago last week, shots were fired in anger. Grown men were making war on one another. Two men were shot, one of whom was killed with a bullet in his brain, William Rihl.

Now, one man’s death didn’t amount to much amidst the carnage that characterized the American Civil War. But William’s life certainly mattered to him, and to his siblings, and to his mother and father, who had raised him, as would any parent, with hopes and dreams and plans for a happy life.

Rihl's death is memorialized with a monument as shown in the photo above.  You should click on the link to see some additional photos of the site and read the description of this small unit action.

Whenever I run by the monument, I try to remember William Rihl and the waste of how his life was cut short, ultimately, by politicians from both sides who found it easier to start a war than negotiate a peace....

 

The Arrogance of Power

Go ahead and read this. Read it carefully. It was a speech on 20 March 2003 by a prescient person (revealed at the bottom).

I have added bolding to some of the passages that resonated with me:

I believe in this beautiful country. I have studied its roots and gloried in the wisdom of its magnificent Constitution. I have marveled at the wisdom of its founders and framers. Generation after generation of Americans has understood the lofty ideals that underlie our great Republic. I have been inspired by the story of their sacrifice and their strength.

But, today I weep for my country. I have watched the events of recent months with a heavy, heavy heart. No more is the image of America one of strong, yet benevolent peacekeeper. The image of America has changed. Around the globe, our friends mistrust us, our word is disputed, our intentions are questioned.

Instead of reasoning with those with whom we disagree, we demand obedience or threaten recrimination. Instead of isolating Saddam Hussein, we seem to have isolated ourselves. We proclaim a new doctrine of preemption which is understood by few and feared by many. We say that the United States has the right to turn its firepower on any corner of the globe which might be suspect in the war on terrorism. We assert that right without the sanction of any international body. As a result, the world has become a much more dangerous place.

We flaunt our superpower status with arrogance. We treat UN Security Council members like ingrates who offend our princely dignity by lifting their heads from the carpet. Valuable alliances are split. After war has ended, the United States will have to rebuild much more than the country of Iraq. We will have to rebuild America's image around the globe.

The case this Administration tries to make to justify its fixation with war is tainted by charges of falsified documents and circumstantial evidence. We cannot convince the world of the necessity of this war for one simple reason. This is a war of choice.

There is no credible information to connect Saddam Hussein to 9/11. The twin towers fell because a world-wide terrorist group, Al Qaeda, with cells in over 60 nations, struck at our wealth and our influence by turning our own planes into missiles, one of which would likely have slammed into the dome of this beautiful Capitol except for the brave sacrifice of the passengers on board.

The brutality seen on September 11th and in other terrorist attacks we have witnessed around the globe are the violent and desperate efforts by extremists to stop the daily encroachment of western values upon their cultures. That is what we fight. It is a force not confined to borders. It is a shadowy entity with many faces, many names, and many addresses.

But, this Administration has directed all of the anger, fear, and grief which emerged from the ashes of the twin towers and the twisted metal of the Pentagon towards a tangible villain, one we can see and hate and attack. And villain he is. But, he is the wrong villain. And this is the wrong war. If we attack Saddam Hussein, we will probably drive him from power. But, the zeal of our friends to assist our global war on terrorism may have already taken flight.

The general unease surrounding this war is not just due to "orange alert." There is a pervasive sense of rush and risk and too many questions unanswered. How long will we be in Iraq? What will be the cost? What is the ultimate mission? How great is the danger at home? A pall has fallen over the Senate Chamber. We avoid our solemn duty to debate the one topic on the minds of all Americans, even while scores of thousands of our sons and daughters faithfully do their duty in Iraq.

What is happening to this country? When did we become a nation which ignores and berates our friends? When did we decide to risk undermining international order by adopting a radical and doctrinaire approach to using our awesome military might? How can we abandon diplomatic efforts when the turmoil in the world cries out for diplomacy?

Why can this President not seem to see that America's true power lies not in its will to intimidate, but in its ability to inspire?

War appears inevitable. But, I continue to hope that the cloud will lift. Perhaps Saddam will yet turn tail and run. Perhaps reason will somehow still prevail. I along with millions of Americans will pray for the safety of our troops, for the innocent civilians in Iraq, and for the security of our homeland. May God continue to bless the United States of America in the troubled days ahead, and may we somehow recapture the vision which for the present eludes us.

Sen. Robert C. Byrd (D - WV), on March 20, 2003, who just passed away on Monday.

  

My Oldest and Favorite Garment

(Photo by Gary)

Of all the clothing I own--and I am not a clothes horse--this threadbare T-shirt is both my oldest and my favorite article of clothing.

The T-shirt dates from 1980 and I still wear it regularly for running in the summer. Long ago I cut off the short sleeves for hot weather use. I know, I know, it's cotton--AKA the Death Fabric--but technical shirts were not the rage 30 years ago.

I only wear it now for road runs of up to an hour or so, and go with a technical top for anything longer, or if I'm going into the woods.

It'll be a sad day indeed when this shirt bites the dust.  I got it when I had to go to Anchorage (Fort Richardson) and Fairbanks (Fort Wainwright) to work early in my career. I was able to take the bride along, and stay for several days after the work part of the trip was done. We were there over the summer solstice in late June when it never really got dark.

The scale of everything in AK was grand, and beautiful. And the critters! Moose, caribou, Dall sheep, grizzly bears, salmon....I've been back several more times for work, but am eagerly awaiting the time when we can take a purely pleasure vacation.

And I'd better look for a replacement T-shirt.

More From the Writer's Almanac

From the 24 June 2010 Writer's Almanac. I get a free email from these folks daily, and it seldom fails to please. This day's entry had 3 gems worth passing on:

It's the 71st birthday of poet Stephen Dunn, born in Forest Hills, New York (1939). He is the first male in his family to live to his 60s. He wrote: 'Because in my family the heart goes first / and hardly anybody makes it out of his fifties, / I think I'll stay up late with a few bandits / of my choice and resist good advice.'

And this one, about Ambrose Bierce:

It's the birthday of the writer and satirist Ambrose Bierce, born near Horse Cave Creek, Ohio (1842), In his Devil's Dictionary (1906), he wrote: 'WEATHER, n. The climate of the hour. A permanent topic of conversation among persons whom it does not interest, but who have inherited the tendency to chatter about it from naked arboreal ancestors whom it keenly concerned.'

And finally, an excerpt from a poem called "Figs," (Erika Jong, (c) Penguin Group, 2009) just because I happen to like figs:

I believe it was
not an apple but a fig
Lucifer gave Eve,
knowing she would find
a fellow feeling
in this female fruit


One bite into
a ripe fig
is worth worlds
and worlds and worlds
beyond the green
of Eden.

Tales From the Perimeter: When Did God Become a Sports Fan?

Perimeter meaning the 6 mile patrol road inside the fence of the military installation on which I work, where some half a dozen of us comprise a pool of running “talent” and strive to show up for a noontime run a couple times a week if we can escape our desks. We share a lot and these guys are one of the core pillars of my sanity.

This is a great link. The money quote for me was this:

Athletes who publicly thank God for victory are often calling more attention to themselves than their faith, says William J. Baker, author of "Playing with God." They are selling their goodness, and their brand of faith, to a captive audience, says Baker, who describes himself as a Christian. "I don't think it's the right place and it's not the right gesture," says Baker, a former high school quarterback. "It's an athlete using a moment to sell a product, like soap."

When we discussed this during our perimeter run the other day, somebody asked:

Do you think that Jack "Thanked God" after his round of 75 at the Rich Valley golf course last weekend?
 

 

The Korean War...and Ultrarunning

(photo credit National Park Service, here)

60 years ago today the Korean War began with the invasion of the south by the North Koreans. It lasted some 3 years and killed an estimated 4 million human beings, half of them civilians.

Several years ago I was in Washington, DC for a training class in the summer. I stayed at a hotel near the Capital, and after work one evening I needed to get a 15 miler or so in. I ran around Haines Point, across the river to the Mount Vernon Trail, and came back across at the Lincoln Memorial. I wanted to see the relatively new Korean War Veterans Memorial before heading back to the hotel.

Well, this being Washington, DC in the summer, the hazy, hot and humid weather brewed up a thunderstorm. I could see the storm gathering, and other than being concerned about lightning, I was not worried about the rain per se because it was warm, I was covered with sweat anyway, and getting wet was not an issue. I ran up to the Memorial, slowed to a respectful walk, and was immediately struck by the haunting, gaunt, individualized faces of the 19 life-size statues. At this time you could walk among the statues (they are fenced off now). All or nearly all the soldiers were wearing ponchos...and just then the skies opened up in a deluge.

I was the only live person there and I have to say it was one of the most eerie experiences of my life, standing right among all these poncho-clad figures in the pouring rain, just like it must have been in Korea all those years ago.

(photo credit About.com, here) 

From About.com:

The Korean War Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC was dedicated in 1995 to 1.5 million American men and women who served in the Korean War. The expansive memorial includes a group of 19 statues that depict soldiers on patrol facing an American flag. A granite wall has a mural of the faces of 2,400 unnamed soldiers with a reading that states “Freedom is not free.” A Pool of Remembrance honors all soldiers who were killed, wounded or missing in action.

3 of 9 Down

(Tizzy...photo by Gary)

We are keeping our son's cat. This "temporary" arrangement has persisted about a year now.

The cat is called Tizzy (I refuse to ever say that a pet is named whatever, because I maintain that we can never know what they call themselves). My son found her along an interstate highway on-ramp in a cold rain, as a tiny kitten, and she would have surely died had he not rescued her.

Life # 1 used up.

Son's family enjoyed a happy home until one day Tizzy managed to get out and got hit along the busy street out front. She was able to make it home, and fortunately the only damage was a broken front leg, which necessitated a cast. Within a couple weeks the cast was off, with no apparent lasting effects.

But there went Life # 2.

In the meanwhile, our son and daughter-in-law conceived another child, and daughter-in-law could no longer take her allergy meds while pregnant. So we were asked--and agreed--to take Tizzy temporarily until after the baby was born and normal allergy treatments could resume. Well, you certainly can see where this is going....son, the cat person, gets outvoted and young Tizzy cannot come home.

So it looks like we've got a cat. I should say another cat--we already have 3 of our own.  Plus Tizzy, plus our daughter's cat: 5 in total.  That's borderline nuts, I'm afraid.

Which brings us to last week. Tizzy, now an indoor-outdoor cat, failed to come home one night (our cats always sleep in at night). And she remained gone the next night, and the next.... We canvassed the neighborhood, scouted backyards and roadsides, all to no avail. Young Tizzy was toast, or so we thought, until on the 4th day she showed up, rather bedraggled, but uninjured. We figure she may have gotten trapped in someone's outbuilding or shed, until the door was opened again several days later. Who knows?

But cross off Life # 3.

She is a sweet cat, a calico as you can see from the photo. Here's hoping that lives 4 thru 9 will remain unused for a long time.

Tales From The Perimeter: Spelling, Grammar, and Punctuation

Perimeter meaning the 6 mile patrol road inside the fence of the military installation on which I work, where some half a dozen of us comprise a pool of running “talent” and strive to show up for a noontime run a couple times a week if we can escape our desks. We share a lot and these guys are one of the core pillars of my sanity.  See also here for a previous post.

Yesterday we had 5 of our 6 potential members show up to run (the missing one injured his hamstring recently in a military Physical Fitness run--somehow that seems ironic--speed does kill). Somehow we got on the topic of people becoming less literate, and being ignorant of the rules of spelling, punctuation, and grammar that we all grew up with.

I, who admittedly am anal-retentive, would have made a GREAT editor, and one of my pet peeves is when I read a poorly written email or document. I happened to bring this up during the run and met with violent consensus. I should note that the youngest of our group is in his early 40s; the eldest is 60, so perhaps we are reflecting the view of the "older generation."

The next day, I was moved to compose the following tongue-in-cheek email in response to whether anyone was running.

From: Gary
Sent: xxxxx
To: xxxxx
Cc: xxxxx
Subject: RE: Run today

Sending you a email to tell you Im a no-show, didnt bring my stufff, waiving off the run. See you Thrsuday.

Instead of runnning, for lunch today I will eat 2 cheeseburger's, maybe an hamburger, and a orange. Its what Im hungrey for. Then when I get home I will pet my kat because I like it's soft fur. Their really nice anmimals.

Regrads/Gray
(facetiously messing with speeling, grammer, and punctuashun following yetserday's perimieter conversatoin)