An Old Warrior

I attended the burial of my Uncle yesterday. My Uncle and I were not close as he lived in the Virgin Islands and did not seem to time his trips to my home state of Connecticut based on my schedule. But he was one of those great Uncles - young, handsome and an absolute rapscallion. Married a very pretty women, tended bar and, overall, led a life that a 13 year old thinks is very cool, until he grows up...

He was also a Vietnam War vet and many of his troubles have been blamed on his war experiences: both combat and non-combat, if you get my drift. He joined the US Army in 1968, qualifying Jump School with the 101st Airborne. He was a recipient of the Army Commendation Medal w/"V" Device, the Vietnam Service Medal w/4 Bronze Service Stars, a Parachutist Badge, and a Combat Infantry Badge.

He died young (age 60). As he was divorced, childless and without a will, the family decided to have him buried in a military cemetery in Connecticut.

Now let me say that I hate funerals. Really hate them. This is because of my own awkwardness regarding the situation: what do you say to someone who has lost a loved one? "I am sorry"? "He/she is in a better place"? Nothing seems adequate. Yesterday was different.

The day was beautiful and the cemetery was solemn and dignified with rows of white marble headstones neatly in formation. The two marines assigned to the burial were great treating the family with respect. My father asked me to read my Uncle's commendation letter to start things off and you could tell that this was unknown to most of the two dozen or so attendees. When I read that my Uncle's actions were a credit to "him, his unit and to the tradition of the United States Army", the emotion was palatable.

The folding of the flag was next with an accompanying 9 gun salute. The tri-folded flag was presented to my father as the family scion with a sharp salute and my father then turned and presented the flag to my Uncle's ex-wife. In the background, trumpeter unseen to any of the attendees, "Taps" was played. I can not convey the sense of higher purpose prevalent in this ceremony. It was beautiful and moving with a nobility not often found today.

My Uncle spent many years bucking the system and fighting the man. Later in life, he seemed to reconcile with friends and family in a meaningful way. I know he did not look fondly back on the Vietnam War (no surprise) and also did not think highly of the Army, but I think just maybe he looked down on the cemetery yesterday and came full circle on his military service also.

God Bless You, Uncle Peter.

Religion of Peace

James Cameron of Titanic fame is coming out with a documentary that says the bones of Jesus and his family have been discovered.

Does this remind anyone else of Geraldo and the vault of Al Capone? One thing for sure, Christians will not be rioting in the streets calling for fatwas against Cameron.

Now it is possible, but does not make sense to me. After his very public ministry, Jesus did what? Retire? Marry and have a child? In obscurity? All these family members buried at various times and it never came up? Okay, I am willing to believe that Jesus did not matter to the Romans, but the Jews failed to mention it to the early converts? He was buried in Jerusalem for goodness sakes.

But I will TiVo it, so Cameron scores one I guess...

UPDATE: Or maybe not. Maybe there is a reason this has not sparked serious interest before.

Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus

By Francis P. Church, first published in The New York Sun in 1897.

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor—

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus

-Virginia O’Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

***

More background on the most published editorial in any English language newspaper here. The original image is here.

Merry Christmas.