9/11

Emmy/Easton,

Long lag between posts, life got busy. I wanted to note my feelings on the anniversary of 9/11, getting to that right now. First, you should know some background. Though you probably know much of the story of what happened that day, I wanted to give you some personal details as I was very close to part of the action that day. On 9/10/2001, I flew into Dulles International Airport, which is about 26 miles from Washington DC. I worked for a company located in Vienna, VA and we meetings I needed to attend that week. I was staying at the Vienna Marriott hotel for the entire week. On 9/11, the salesman (Eric) I was partners with called from Chicago and told me to turn on the TV. I had just taken a shower and was about to make my way to the office.

The conversation started with him telling me that the news reports were saying a small airplane had hit the WTC (North Tower). When I saw the footage, it was difficult to tell what kind of plane hit. I knew it couldn't have been a small prop but thought perhaps a lear jet or the like might have hit it. While we were talking, the second plane hit the WTC South Tower. At this point, we concluded that something very bad was going down and Eric and I ended the call as I wanted to call your mother. I got hold of your Mom, who was in her car headed to work. She was learning much of the same info on the radio. At some point., someone on TV said that the Pentagon had been hit. I told your Mom and she became very quiet. I sensed a dread in her tone, very hard to describe.

It did not come to me right away that the Pentagon was about 7-8 miles from my hotel. Your Mom and I talked for awhile and then I decided I needed to go to work. I gave my love to her and got ready to leave the room. I realized at that point that the Pentagon was very close and went to my balcony. I could see the smoke rising from the general area of where I believed the Pentagon was located. Since no other target was hit in DC that day, I assumed that's what I was looking at. The crushing thought in it all was that just minutes before the crash, 100+ human beings were alive. And then extinguished. Unacceptable.

I went into work and everyone was glued to TVs in the office. At least one of the local employees had a spouse that worked at the Pentagon. She turned out to be OK. Then the towers came down, first the South, then the North. A dead quiet in the office. Horror. Then news of the heroes of Flight 93, who stopped a fourth target from getting hit. Heroes. Management ended up telling us to go home. I couldn't get hold of your Mom again until the next day. Communications was jammed for hours. I also could not get back to Chicago on my original flight, as air travel was grounded for at least a week. Your Mom and I were supposed to attend a relative's marriage ceremony on Saturday. I ended up driving from DC to Chicago on Thursday and got into Chicago on Friday. Very long drive. Lots of quiet time. Lots of contemplation. I listened to the radio and it didn't matter what channel you turned to (Sports, Talk, Music), the conversation was on this tragedy.

I finally arrived home and your Mom and I made the wedding. Funny how life did go on, although very slowly and in a melancholy atmosphere for some time afterwards. I'll be straight up honest about how I feel about the whole thing. I'm still pissed. I won't ever forget it. We needed to go find the animals who did this and make them pay dearly. One problem we had and are still having is that we're fighting not just people, but a radical ideology. So we've had some success and setbacks. In some ways, I think we haven't been savage enough with our enemies. Breaking their will can go aways to ending all of this because as you will note, Radical Islamofascist Islam wants nothing more to see us dead. It is an uncivil death cult.

Not all Islam is this radical and you need to pay attention to words and actions to note the difference. As a Christian, you need to love everyone and show them through your actions and love that there is a better way. But that does not mean you need to check your intelligence at the door. Nor does it mean you have to agree to a suicide pact of letting them kill you. Life is a gift from God. You have an obligation to fight for every last breath.

Love, Dad

Memorial Day 2010

Kids,

A couple days late on this, as we all spent the weekend at the vacation home with Grandma and Grandpa. A great time as always. It was also a great time to thank those who sacrificed their lives so that we can enjoy the freedoms that Americans so often take for granted. Knowing the history of your Grandpa's time in Vietnam, after coming over to the States as an immigrant from Canada, receiving the Purple Heart for his wounds, is important to your history. Indeed, if your Grandpa did not make it out of that jungle back in 1970, the path of history for all of us would have been much different.

In fact, you would not have a Grandpa, Aunt Laura or Uncle Mike. There are deeper questions as well. How would Grandma have responded to being a single Mom. Would I have achieved the success I've enjoyed these many years? Where would I be now? What would have happened? Would I have met your mother? Many of these question explain my belief in fate, that there is a reason that things happen as they do. Exactly why, we will not know until later, but there is a reason.

Then you have your Papa, who was a Green Beret stationed in Europe in the 60s. Uncle Mike, who was in the Army during the 90s, spending part of this time on the DMZ in South Korea. And now, cousin DJ, who will be joining the ROTC at Arizona State. All of these soldiers were and are the reason that our great country has survived over the years. And you must always remember that great men and women died to keep you free. There is no greater calling.

Here's one of the quotes I've found over the years that says it all. It's been attributed to both Orwell and Churchill, but has not been 100% verified. That said, it makes the point crystal clear:

"We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm."

God Bless the USA and all branches of the armed forces!

Thumbs Down

When you were little, my little Emm Bemm, it made me smile to watch you dance to this. It was your favorite, at least your favorite rocknrolla song.

Bodysnatchers:

How I Met Your Mother - Part I

Easton and Emmy,

Above is a picture of your Mother from Mother's Day, 2010. When you look at this picture, a few things should be immediately striking:

1. You've got a hot Mama (Easton would say in "You're a hot mama, and a babe and a sweetheart and I love you up to the moon!")
2. You're blessed with her genes

Your Mom is not only those things, but to me, she's also the most important thing in this world. You might be asking yourself, how did you and Mom meet? Well, that is a tale to tell indeed. In the Fall of 1992, I was still going to college, trying to finish off my engineering degrees (it would take me until the Spring of 94 to accomplish the feat). I was friends with what can only be described as an eclectic group of misfits, from fellow students in school to various people I met while out and about. One of these friends was working at one of the local establishments around the East Side of Milwaukee, his main job to keep order within said establishment. As will often happen in these situations, I became familiar with my friends' colleagues, one of whom was named John. Now John had a girlfriend, but he always seemed to hang around this one particular small girl, a very pretty woman who happened to be your Mother.

I always wanted to ask your Mom out, but I was terribly shy and could not bring myself to do it. In addition, John and Mom hung out A LOT, or so it seemed, and I thought that maybe something was going on between them. Throw into the mix that another one of my friends also liked her and I pretty much assumed I didn't have a chance. Turns out that John had nothing going on with her and my other friend crashed and burned in his attempt to woo her. That brings us to a September Day in Milwaukee, where a festival called Indian Summer was taking place. The Violent Femmes were playing and of course, most of my friends wanted to see them. We ran into John and Mom. For some reason, she asked me out. I remember being shocked. She gave me her number and I called her shortly thereafter for our first date.

We decided to go to a restaurant/bar called McGillycuddy's on Water Street. Most of the evening consisted of me talking to her. Mom might have said eight words to me all night. I believe I found out that she was majoring in pre-law and that was about it. We went to sit on the rocks by Bradford beach where I continued to talk; She said very little. I explained to her that I would need to get back soon to begin studying for the next semester (which didn't start for a week). She drove me home, I kissed her goodnight and went up to read. She thought I was blowing her off and lying about having to study before classes began. Truth is, I really did want to get ahead that semester. Another truth, I really liked her even more. I can't explain why 100 exactly, I was just really attracted to her and I could tell that there was something really special about her. It just felt right. She was really shy, like me, and I liked that, though later I told her in a future date that if she did not start talking soon, I would leave. She never stopped talking after that and I was grateful, as we learned much together the next few years.

Neither of us had very much money, but it didn't matter. We spent the next few years scraping by to finish school. We saw each other at our best and worst. You can really gage how much someone cares about you by seeing if they stick with you in the worst of times, when you're at your lowest. Your Mom always stuck by me, always believed in me. And I believed in her.

I will always believe in her, until the day I die.

Disclaimer to the Rest of the World

One thing I forgot to note, the opinions expressed in this blog are solely mine and they're meant for my kids alone. I'll leave the comments as is for now, as I don't expect to have much in the way of followers, but if you're offended by strong opinions, you might want to go elsewhere. If I receive any snarky comments, I reserve the right to shut them down altogether. That said, if I'm engaged in civil and respectful manner, I may respond to queries.

Someday, Easton and Emmy may think I'm full of it and that's fine. I want them to think independently and make their own judgments as they see the landscape before them. Of course, I will attempt to guide them in direction I believe is the correct path. This is a parent's job and this, once again, is my attempt to provide them with my historical perspective.

Every Story has a Beginning

Emm Bemm and E,

I want to provide a written account of the past and present history of our family while you are young, so that you can have this information in the future. It's kinda of a cool thing to be able to know what your parents did before you could remember being around. Someday, you'll be able to look at this information and see the human side of your parents, warts and all.

The reason for the blog is two-fold. First, there are lots of things I would like to explain to you now that I cannot for a number of reasons. I'd also like to give you a history of how your Mom and I became who we are, explain how I met your Mom, and the tribulations and exciting times we had together before you both came along. Think of these words as an open diary, or better yet, think of it as a stream of consciousness. The beatniks of the 50s and 60s (slightly more useful human beings than the completely useless hippies of the late 60s) often performed poetry in a "free association" style which I will, from time to time, mimic here. Sometimes I'll share words of wisdom and opinions. Other times, I'll be more carefree and post some funny stuff or items of trivial importance . So I'll be all over the place. You can pretend you're Kal-El putting the crystals in place in the Fortress of Solitude, receiving the words of Jor-El.

The second reason for the blog is a quite serious one. As you might remember, your Mom and I lost James Paul when he was stillborn 19 weeks into Mom's pregnancy in 2010. It was a very difficult time for us, as I'm sure you now understand. Even though the family came together even closer after going through this ordeal, the wound inflicted will be one we will take to our graves. It's due to the nature of the loss and there's not much one can do to make it better, other than live as best as one can, day in and day out. I expect that as time goes by, the hurt will recede, but the truth of the matter is that it will never go away. This blog is a way to help cope with our loss, since you both are still here with us. We pray that you both live long and happy lives.

Another question I struggled with was whether I would make the blog public. I cherish our family's privacy, but I also felt that making blog public was the best way to insure the thoughts shared in this diary will be saved forever. Worst case, someone or some program somewhere will save this information in infinite perpetuity.

And so we begin. Let me first offer some initial words of wisdom:

1. Try to have a good, solid laughing fit as often as you can (nothing feels quite like it).
2. Never be afraid to laugh at yourself. Some of the best humor is self-deprecating.
3. Don't take yourself so seriously that you drive yourself nuts trying to live you life. There are times to be serious and there are times where levity is more appropriate.
   

Love you both,
Dad