My father was one of the last
instructors of celestial navigation
for the US Air Force during the tail
end of the Korean War. He enlisted
during his senior year at Chapel
Hill to avoid the draft. He is what
used to be called a "war buff."
My mother's family had the brass
hardcore deep in old Virginia,
including my great uncle General
(3 stars) Withers Burress. He
commanded the 237th Negro Infantry
in WW1. During my childhood's summer
visits to Salem, Virginia, very old,
often crippled black soldiers would
show up unannounced to pay their
respects & I vividly remember
sitting at the kitchen table with
" the General's beloved niggers."
My main memory of "Uncle Pinky"
is the smell of Jack Daniels. The visit
to West Point was to see my dad's
friend who was on a teaching gig.
They were definately Pinko War Buffs.
The Tomahawks are hitting Kabul.
My Cheyenne friend Little Magpie
says when you smoke you need to ask
for something.When the towers
went down I was worried about
my friends in the city; now I'm
just worried. I want to visit all
of you for a climb up the vine.
Say when.


- frank 10-08-2001 6:34 am


When.
- jim 10-08-2001 5:35 pm [1 comment]





add a comment to this page:

Your post will be captioned "posted by anonymous,"
or you may enter a guest username below:


Line breaks work. HTML tags will be stripped.