The First Four Minutes - Deputy Peterson And The Douglas High School Murders

In the hours after the February 14th Douglas High School murders in Florida, officers reviewed video footage from various sources in and around the school building.  One of the video sources was footage from Broward County Sheriff's Deputy Scot Peterson's vehicle camera, and another was the officer's body camera.  This footage, now released to the public, involves the first four minutes or so of the incident and shows that Deputy Peterson took a "defensive position" by his patrol car, just outside the west side of the high school, and within just a few hundred feet of the active shooter inside the building.  We also know that Deputy Person was assigned to Douglas High School as the "resource officer."  For reasons unknown, the officer who was specifically assigned to protect the students and faculty of Douglas did not enter the building until after the shooting was over.  This has, of course (and perhaps with good reason!), outraged all concerned, as well as the nation in general.  In fact, the video prompted Sheriff Scott Israel to indefinitely suspend the deputy (read "fire") pending official personnel action.

It is very easy for one to sit in the comfort of home or office and immediately criticize and even condemn this officer for his lack of action.  I tend to agree with the Sheriff, that the deputy should have taken more action than merely confirming by radio that "help was on the way."  But I also have to stop for a moment, lean back into my chair, and remind myself that I, like the Sheriff, was NOT THERE, and I did not know what Deputy Peterson knew, believed, heard, or saw.  And I would like to point out that I am not defending his actions, just pointing out that I did not have all the knowledge he had at the time he made his decision.  Yet I agree with Sheriff Israel that Deputy Peterson should have done SOMETHING!

Deputy Peterson SHOULD have done something, I say on one hand, yet having been trained as a police officer, I have to point out some things that others might overlook.  First of all, training.  If Deputy Peterson received similar training to that which I received, one of the first things he was taught was to WAIT FOR BACKUP!  Most police patrols today are one-person patrols.  Thus, when an officer is dispatched to any situation that is volatile, involves two or more angry people, involves weapons, or has indications that the suspect is in the area, that officer is advised to wait for backup.  In many jurisdictions, officers can actually be disciplined for handling a situation in which a need for two or more officers is indicated.  One such situation would be an active shooter somewhere inside a large building.  If Deputy Peterson was trained to, and required to, wait for backup, than I cannot fault him for waiting for backup...at first.

Here is another thing that Deputy Peterson, if he was a competent officer, had to take into consideration: The shooter obviously had a semi-automatic weapon, as was clear by the rapid shots the officer could hear.  The deputy quite possibly had no heavier weapon at his disposal than his assigned handgun and his taser.  Should he risk confronting this well-armed shooter with obviously inferior force, or should he hold a perimeter position and wait for more and better-armed officers to arrive?  In other words, would the deputy have stood a chance against the shooter, or would he have just added one more body to the count, to put it bluntly.  Once dead, the officer could not prevent the shooter from arming himself with the officer's pistol as well.  By the way, regular body armor will not protect against rifle ammunition, such as rounds fired by an AR - 15 rifle.

One other reason that Deputy Peterson might have chosen to wait for assisting officers would be that the deputy knew the layout of the building and would have been able to brief arriving officers without the need to wait for someone to produce blueprints of the high school.  This would be a good reason to delay entry...for a couple of minutes.

Finally, a reason to delay a "knee-jerk" entry to the building was so that Deputy Peterson could attempt to firmly locate the shooter, at least to within a room or two.  Knowing approximately where the shooter was would allow the deputy to make entry at another point, maybe at a surprise location, so that the officer was not simply shot dead as he walked into the building, thus helping no one, and again, providing the shooter with yet another weapon.

The difficulty for me, and for Sheriff Israel I am sure, is that Deputy Peterson continued to hold his position when he knew that kids were getting shot, he knew approximately where the shooter was, and he knew that assisting officers were still some distance away (this last bit of information is controversial, because municipal police from Coral Springs arrived to find three other Broward County deputies also holding "defensive positions" outside the building), and he knew he was the only person in a position to intervene at the moment.  These "exigent" circumstances, as per police jargon, when taken together indicated that Deputy Peterson should not follow the "wait for backup" policy any longer, but that he should do whatever it took to locate the shooter and take him out of action!

I would like to point out here that a police officer is just like any other person, meaning that the police officer does not WANT to die a single day before "his time;" however, a police officer has taken an oath to protect and serve the citizens of his jurisdiction, even in the face of danger and risk of death.  Citizens have placed their faith in the officer, which is why the officer has the honor of wearing his shield.  But with the honor comes the reality of the responsibilities that go with the shield (or the star).  There are times that an officer is called on to deliberately take an action that places him directly in harm's way.  In my opinion (and, I point out that I am operating from the comfort of my lounger, with none of this officer's first hand knowledge, so I am trying to be fair) Deputy Peterson's duty was to deviate from policy, formulate some kind of emergency plan, and then execute that plan without backup officers! And do it NOW!  Deputy Peterson did not take action.  Unfortunately for him, many people will assume that the deputy could have saved lives if he had at least TRIED to engage the shooter.  And I believe that is how history will judge him.

There is another aspect of being a police officer or soldier that most people outside of those two professions will never face.  The fact is that a police officer, or a soldier, never knows how he or she will react in situation of extreme personal danger.  For police officers and soldiers, training (or the lack of) makes all the difference when that time finally comes.  Will the officer respond in kind with his training, or will he give in to the natural inclination to escape from the danger?  I cannot speak for Deputy Peterson.  I do not know whether he was following his training to the letter, that is, not moving until he had his backup with him, or whether he believed he should stay at his position in case the shooter came out of the building at or near that point.  The worst-case scenario is that the deputy simply could not bring himself to leave his position of relative safety even though he could hear the gunshots just yards away from his patrol car.  I hope this is not what happened.

Sheriff Israel said that what he saw on Deputy Peterson's video, as well as the statements from witnesses that he read, "made me sick to my stomach."  The Sheriff felt that Deputy Peterson should have taken action, even if it was technically in violation of police training.  There were lives to be saved, and God (or Fate, whatever you want to call it) had put Deputy Peterson in that exact spot at that exact moment.  Whether or not the deputy could have saved lives, we will never know.  But the Sheriff's suspension of Deputy Peterson indicates the Sheriff's belief that the deputy should have taken the risk, looked into the face of Death, and given his best effort to protect those people, young students and their teachers, who believed that Deputy Peterson would come to their aid.

The first four minutes of this terrible mass murder, those minutes recorded on the deputy's video, and in the statements of witnesses, whether or not the deputy could have saved lives if he had taken action, have shaped Deputy Peterson's legacy, right or wrong.  Would it surprise you to know that Deputy Peterson is a highly decorated police officer, cited for his excellence in action by the local school district, and even voted Sheriff's Deputy of the Year at one point?  But his decorated law enforcement career has now been redefined by those first four minutes after he arrived at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School on that terrible February afternoon.

May God protect all police officers everywhere, and may He give all officers the courage to carry out their duties even in times of danger to themselves, and especially in times of danger to the citizens they swore to protect.

And, may God bless America

Vacation Day 7: Life Almost Non-Existent

Although today was Thirsty Thursday at a couple of local restaurants, and was National Margarita Day across most of the known world, at my residence it was very difficult to discern whether or not life was in existence at all.  My lovely bride and I ran a couple of errands early in the day, but for the most part we were simply extensions of the living room furniture.  The weather was fairly bad during the morning, with the some roads and bridges being covered with a very thin layer of ice.  The ice was not so thin that it did not contribute to so many accidents that police begged for people to stay home.  So we opted out of the trip to Odessa to get Baby Baby, much as we would liked to have had her.

My lovely bride and I spent the remainder of the day occupying the living room furniture and watching either the Olympics or "In the Heat of the Night," depending on whether or not "curling" was on the sports line-up.  I am a big fan of Carroll O'Connor's version of Chief Bill Gillespie, the police chief in Sparta, Mississippi, as well as of that show in general.  While all this was "happening," the day just somehow slipped away.

Child A arrived home from work later in the evening, and I am sure he was almost unable to detect life in our home for the first few minutes.  If my lovely bride had not been engaged in her Mine Craft game, Child A would probably not have noticed us at all.  Incidentally, Child A loves to startle my lovely bride by making "zombie noises" at the most inopportune time.  When this occurs, the apparent "lump" in the lounger suddenly screams, jumps a couple of feet off the floor, then yells death threats at Child A's retreating backside.  Meanwhile, the supposed lump in the other lounger is suddenly revealed as alive, as he laughs his head off at his lovely bride, who then issues death threats in her loving spouse's direction.  But after a few minutes, calm descends on the living room, Child A slips silently away to his room, and life becomes, once again, almost non-existent.

I would like to say a big thank you to everyone that has stayed with me for the past few days as I have chronicled what, for many people, must seem like the most boring vacation on the planet.  I must say, however, that it has been one of the most stress-eliminating vacations I have ever had.  Sadly, tomorrow my lovely bride must return to work, and our vacation is officially over.

Goodnight, and may God bless you all.

Vacation Day 6: Breakfast With Baby Baby, or It Sure Is Quiet Around Here

Vacation Day Six found us back in Midland, and Baby Baby had spent the night of Vacation Day 5 with us.  So morning came early on Vacation Day 6 as we all had to get ready so that my lovely bride would be on time for her appointment.  By the way, do any of you find that no matter HOW EARLY you arise, you still pretty much arrive at your appointment at about the same time as you would have if you had gotten up with only a few minutes to spare, rushed like the house was on fire, raced to the appointment, and arrive right at the bell?

We all bundled up at hit the road at about 0930.  There was ice on the ground but the roads were not too bad at all.  There was no reason we could not be at the appointment on time.  And that's when the little light came on and a quiet little beep sounded somewhere around the gas gage.  Yikes, the truck was pretty much running on fumes!  According to the highly computerized instrument panel, we had nineteen miles to go before empty.  Well, it so happened that our destination was also about nineteen miles as well.  Fortunately I knew that there was a gas station just ahead, and though the price per gallon was not exactly bargain-rate, I was a beggar, not a chooser, just at that moment.  I loaded about five gallons, then we were off to the races again.  We got to the appointment right on the nose.  Honey hurried off to her meeting and I had Baby Baby all to myself.

We went over to IHOP because Baby Baby wanted "Happy Cakes," her name for pancakes, cupcakes, and especially BIRTHDAY cakes.  She knows everyone says "Happy Birthday" when these special cakes are served at parties, so she now calls almost every baked goody a happy cake.  By the way, it was about 29 degrees outside, after a balmy 70 degree day yesterday.  Baby Baby buried her head in my shoulder and said, "Cold, Poppee!!"  I had to agree with her.  But we bundled up and dashed into the IHOP.  About three episodes of Peppa Pig later, the happy cakes arrived.  We had just about eaten our fill of happy cakes when the phone rang.  My lovely bride was ready for us to come get her.  So I washed all the excess honey off Baby Baby, and we bundled up again.  Baby Baby once again told me it was cold, and I told her yes it was!

We picked up my lovely bride, who was excited with the results of her meeting.  One of the things she likes to do when she is really happy about something is to get a large root beer from Sonic.  It so happened there was a Sonic up the road.  As I was ordering that particular drink, my lovely bride was on the phone with Child B (Baby Baby's mother).  It turned out that a food run was in order, but not Sonic food.  Child B wanted something from Rosa's, and Child B's hubby wanted something from Fazzoli's.  Luckily both were nearby.  A few minutes later we were at Child B's home.

Baby Baby was so happy to see Mommy (Child B) again, and so were we.  We had been out of town for several days and had not had our Child B fix in that time.  As soon as I had hugged Child B, however, Baby Baby was yelling at me to "come play, Poppee!"  Well, of course I could not resist that invitation.  I spent the next hour or so "eating popsicles" and "licking ice cream cones" that Baby Baby had in her room.  I would have said in her toy box, but Baby Baby does not keep many of her toys in the toy box.  Then it was story time.  She especially liked Baby Llama Red Pajamas.  She managed to pay rapt attention for the few minutes it took to read that story.  Then she was back to licking popsicles while coloring her "pictures" while playing on her electronic learning machine while bouncing her red ball while lining her Paw Patrol cars into a perfect row.  Yes, she is definitely a multitask-er.

Unfortunately, Poppee ran out of energy.  While Baby Baby was employed at her several tasks, I managed to drag my carcass back to the living room.  Once there, I pulled myself up to a sitting position on the couch.  Later I heard Child B remark that "Daddy appears to be sleeping."  Of course I was not sleeping, just checking the status of the inside of my eyelids.  Baby Baby came into the living room to check on me, or maybe to watch Peppa Pig.  She tried to get Honey to go play with her in her room, but it was time for us to get going.  My lovely bride and I said our good byes and forcibly removed ourselves from Baby Baby.

The ride home was a little quieter without Baby Baby's chatter, or her constant requests for us to help her get her toys, which she regularly drops from her car seat, and then cannot reach them.  Back at our house, it was sure quiet as well.  Baby baby's car, her riding giraffe, her crayons, her "pictures" (coloring books), and many of her toys, were still scattered across the living room floor.  I know that a child should spend at least SOME time with her parents, but we miss Baby Baby when she is gone.  And, when she is gone, it sure is quiet around here.

As the Oak Ridge Boys once sang, "thank God for kids!"  I thank God for my children, and for my new son.  He and Child B have given us the best present that no amount of money in the world could buy.  And soon there will be another little addition to Child B's family.  Perhaps SOMEDAY Child A will provide us with another grandchild, someday.  No PRESSURE, Child A...no pressure!

May God bless all of you.

Vacation Day 5: Back To West Texas

In my chronicles of this little vacation trip, I failed to mention one little detail.  As we were leaving town on Day 1 and heading for Central Texas, my lovely bride received a telephone call that had some impact on our journey.  It turned out she would be needed at home on Wednesday, for reasons that cannot be disclosed at the moment.  So on Tuesday morning, we said our goodbyes to my sister and her tribe, and we hit the road westbound.  Well, actually NORTHwestbound.

The trip back was fairly quick and uneventful, other than being under the watchful eye of many a hawk or falcon as we drove on our way.  There were no close calls, no near meetings with policemen, and only one real "slow down," this being just east of Westbrook.  If you frequent the west end of I-20 you will be familiar with Westbrook.  If, however, you are not familiar with Westbrook, you have not missed that much.  Anyway, just east of Westbrook we were diverted off the main highway onto the westbound frontage road.  The only clue we had about WHY we were diverted were some of those folding orange warning signs that had been placed by TXDOT employees to tell us of an "Incident Ahead."  We never learned what the incident was nor did we see any signs of traffic accidents or hazardous spills.  After the leisurely drive through Westbrook we were able (after several miles!) to get back onto the main westbound lanes on the Interstate.

As soon as we arrived at our home, we unloaded our truck of our luggage and accumulated travel snacks, and reloaded the vehicle with Baby Baby's car seat and her various other paraphernalia.  While I navigated us back onto I-20 for the trip to Odessa, my lovely bride called ahead and told...I mean asked...Child B if we could come and get Baby Baby.  While we were still within about five miles of our home, and headed west in I-20, a large pickup in the left lane suddenly swerved into our lane.  I knew that no one was to our right, since only the shoulder was to our right, so I swerved away.  The driver of the pickup saw us then and swerved back into her lane.  I remarked (rather loudly) to my wife how ironic it was that we had driven well over seven hundred miles across Texas and back on our vacation, only to nearly be killed in our home territory.  But I could not get too upset because I have done a few of those near miss "almost" lane changes myself.

The remainder of the trip to Child B's house passed without incident.  We collected Baby Baby and all the necessary paraphernalia, went through a round of hugs with Child B, then returned to Midland.  We bought a few groceries on the way.  Baby Baby kept us both entertained and busy, but she is such a joy to have around.  She is growing so fast and will soon be three years old.  Our little Baby Baby is not really a baby anymore.  It is a bittersweet thing to watch her grow, and to WANT her to grow as she should, all the while knowing that as she blossoms into a little girl, she will not be a "baby" much longer.  Nonetheless it was a great night, with all three of us being exhausted by the end of the evening.

This vacation has been one of literally (okay, FIGURATIVELY) doing nothing!  I know there will be more times on future vacations where we actually do something "fun," but I find myself more and more enjoying the times that we really do nothing more than just enjoy ourselves as we enjoy our loved ones and friends.  My lovely bride is constantly reminding me that we need to get our passports so that we can go to Hawaii.  Oh wait, that is part of the United States - you just have to fly halfway around the planet to get there.  The passport would actually be needed to drive across into Mexico or Canada.  Go figure?  But I agree that we should get passports soon. 

I would like to visit the Caribbean some time, and I would like to follow an ever growing urge, a need - almost, to visit the Mul of Kintyre, as immortalized by Paul McCartney.  The only problem (besides the money) in visiting either Hawaii, the Carribean, or Scotland, is the minor issue of having to ride an airplane for so many hours.  No, I do not like small, enclosed spaces, including airplane "cabins."  I am afraid that if I made such a flight, and then tried to blog about it, the only thing I could blog about with any reliability would be the bar tab for the "over the counter" (over the bar, really) tranquilizers that I would have to consume "pre-boarding."

Thank you all for reading about my rather mundane vacation.  I appreciate the spike in reader numbers for these stories, which I can assure you, are very true.  If I were making up this stuff, I would certainly have included some far more interesting "true" events.

May God bless you all...

Vacation Day 4 or Synchronicity And The Men's Urinal

Today, a  Monday, was a bittersweet day for us as it meant that our visit with our family in Angleton was drawing rapidly to a close.  Just before 0800 we said goodbye to our aunt and uncle who were off on a medical appointment.  We would meet again later for lunch and to say our final goodbyes before heading back to my sister's home in Central Texas.  After they left, my little group headed once again for Surfside Beach.

We hit the beach just after 1000 hrs., after we had driven around the Island of Velasco looking at some of the beach homes that are on the market (not that we could afford one! LOL).  The sea was wild and the beach was fairly empty.  I suppose a mid-February day, with a water temperature of around 58 degrees, was not a day that would attract a crowd, but it was just what the doctor ordered for us.

With my young nephew leading the way, we strolled down the beach looking for beautiful seashells and for anything else the Sea Spirit might have to offer us on this cool morning.  Actually the day was quite pleasing, with an out-of-the-water temp of over seventy degrees.  There were the usual assortment of seagulls and other shore-side birds, and of course, the occasional and graceful flight of pelican squadrons that patrol the beaches from time to time.  Out in the rolling waves, no life was to be seen, other than the occasional diving gull.  I was hoping to get a glimpse of a passing dolphin, but that was not to be today.  Neither did the splashing surf offer me even one spectacular shell.  The sea is always a mysterious lady, very unpredictable.  I found one little part of a sand dollar, which my nephew happily added to his collection of seashells, and what appeared to be small grindstone, about three inches in diameter.  Not finding a collectible shell was a little disappointing, but only for a little while.

All too soon it was time to leave the beach and meet our extended family for lunch.  Here is where synchronicity played a card into our day.  My lovely bride (being the social director of the family) had arranged lunch at a particular restaurant in Lake Jackson.  Just as we dusted off and loaded into the truck, my lovely bride received a message that her brother, and also our cousin, were waiting for us at the restaurant.  So we drove to the appointed restaurant. Just as we had parked in front of the agreed upon destination, my brother-in-law informed us that we would be eating at a different location, a restaurant known as "The Local."  Fortunately The Local was only a couple of blocks away, so we made our way to that location.

We met the rest of our party, who were waiting inside, and ordered our food.  The Local, by the way, has some superb "burgers" on the menu, as well as more healthy items, but...well...being on vacation, I also vacated the healthy food selections and ordered a really delicious and hefty burger which was called the Gold Rush burger.  It was an excellent choice, a really thick burger fortified with bacon and slathered with a spicy barbecue sauce - a great vacationer's burger!  And that is when I heard someone call my name...

I looked around and there was a beautiful lady with whom I had attended high school back in the...nope, that is classified!  Anyway, what are the odds that a person I had not seen in several years would be in this very restaurant at this very time, which was just ahead of the "official" lunch hour.  But there she was!  We gave each other big hugs.  And I thought, if we had gone to the original destination I would have missed this pleasant and so unexpected meeting.  Now this lady is a little older than me, but...as far as "aging" is concerned...I was dismayed (just a little) to see that I had out-aged HER!  Ah...such is life.  But it was so good to see her again.  She is married to another school-mate of mine, a one-time "heck raiser."  I would loved to have seen him as well; unfortunately, he was not with her.  So of course I hugged her again for him.  As we went our separate ways, I thought about how amazing it was finding her there, about the long odds of seeing her in a particular place when there were so many choices that either one of us could have made, so many alternative restaurants, so many alternate times.  Synchronicity!

With lunch over, our crew headed back to my uncle's home, which is our usual "base of operations" when we visit the Houston area.  We cleaned up and packed our things, and some of us (not me, this time) enjoyed more slices of pie from last night.  But try as we might, we could not forestall the inevitable.  Our time with our beloved aunt and uncle, my brother-in-law and his wife, our niece Miss Emily, and our cousin and  his new bride, all to soon came to an end.  These are bittersweet times, when no matter how many hugs and kisses are doled out, it just never seems to be enough.  But at last we pulled ourselves away and hit the road.

The trip back to Central Texas was, once again, non-eventful.  We stopped for a short dinner on the road, then we drove the last leg of the trip.  The sky had looked "rainy" most of the trip but the heavens withheld the precipitation until just as we got the truck unpacked.  The remainder of the evening was spent with my sister and her family.  All in all it was a great day...oops...I forgot one tiny little detail...

I did something today that I have never done in my life:  I took a picture of a urinal in the "men's room."  Not just any men's room, I might add, but in the men's room of The Local, the same restaurant where I had the great fortune of bumping into my beautiful schoolmate.  Here is the pic I captured.

As you can see, as a person (hopefully a male) uses this particular urinal, this pretty lady is watching.  But at least she is looking the user in the eyes, and not looking...well...in some less desirable direction.  I believe the magazine cover is from the 1950's, but this is the first time I have ever been in a urinal with a picture of a classy lady looking me in the eye.  Sure, you can use the facilities at the Flying J and see the latest electronic or automotive gadget, but after using the men's room at The Local, I doubt if I will ever pee...er, I mean, SEE men's rooms in the same way again!

So the fourth day of our vacation now draws to a close.  I have to say this has been one of our best vacations of all time, just because it has been so quiet and relaxing.  Tomorrow we will say goodbye to Central Texas, our next destination being...well, you will just have to read tomorrow's post to find that out.

God bless you all, and may God bless America!

Vacation Day 3: Simply Sunday

If the events of Day 2 and those of Day 3 (which I am about to relate) are indicators, my lovely bride and I are indeed on tap for a calm, quiet, and stress-free vacation.  That is okay with me, especially when I remember back to the ghost of vacation past, in which we faced the possibility of the car floating away with the high tide.

The day started at a decent hour this morning, decent being defined as no one awakened anyone else prior to 0900.  My lovely bride and I, my sister and her son, and our beloved aunt and uncle, caravanned to a local breakfast eatery prior to services at First Baptist.  We met my brother-in-law and his family at the church, and settled in for a very inspirational service.  I have to confess that I did not sit quietly through services; instead, my recently acquired niece and I shared a few laughs, causing my lovely bride to chastise me for "being out of control."  But really Miss Emily and I did not bother anyone.  And we paid attention for the "good parts" of the service.

After services, our family group, now ten in number, dined at a local Mexican-food restaurant.  The staff were most cordial and happy to have us.  We shared a great lunch, and I have to say, all of us, again with the exception of myself and Miss Emily, were well-behaved and did not draw undue attention to our large gathering.  My lovely bride DID mention, however, that I was "out of control" and needed to settle down.  This situation proved to be the only real excitement of the day.

Later on, I took my nephew to the beach at Surfside.  He went up and down the beach happily gathering seashells.  I just took in the air, the salt, the sea. Then I felt my sea-faring personality come to the surface, and for a little while, I was a true beach dweller, sharing the shore with the gulls and the surf.  I know I would feel at home at the beach just as much as I do on my little piece of Central Texas.  I cannot explain my deep attachment with the sea, but maybe you share this same feeling whenever you visit the seashore.  Scientists say that all life began in the sea.  Maybe they are right.  If so, that could explain why many a landlubber like myself feels such a kinship with the ocean even if we only touch the sand and the surf once or twice a year.  The good thing is that the seashore welcomes everyone and feels a kinship with anyone who shares the spirit of the sea.  At least this is what I have come to believe.

My nephew and I pulled ourselves away from the shore a couple of hours later.  During that time my lovely bride had "messaged me" that we needed to take the truck through a car wash before returning to my uncle's place.  Apparently many others believed their cars needed washing as well, because we had to abandon our original plan, to use the Buc-ee's car wash.  There were at least thirty cars ahead of us; therefore, I opted to find another, less popular car wash, but one which would remove just as much salt from the paint.

My nephew and I were soon back at our uncle's house, and dinner was on the table.  Later, as I contemplated the events of the day, I concluded that "event" is a relative word, in the sense that an event does not have to be "significant" or "traumatic" to be an event.  Today, for instance, was full of good and fun events which were not significant in any way, but which made memories for me and my loved ones.  Just simple days and simple times.  I hope for many, many more simple but happy times like this quiet and easy time spent with my loved ones.  I wish the same for all of you.

May God bless you all, and may God bless America

Vacation Day Number 2 or All Roads Lead To La-La Land

Preface

Day 2 was not posted until Day 3 because your beloved author apparently passed into Dreamland while watching a "western" starring Gary Cooper.  I know...I know...this is almost sacrilegious, but apparently your beloved author (and lover of "westerns") was in more dire need of sleep than he realized.  So your beloved author neither saw the end of "Hanging Tree" nor typed a single word of the following post at the end of Day 2.


DAY 2

We were up at the crack of dawn...but that was just because ONE OF US left the alarm set for 0630!  But the alarm was quickly quashed.  I did not see further daylight until well after 0900 this time!  That was more like it, no hurry and no pressure.  So a little before ten we finally hit the road...after a little drama between my lovely bride and I, just a small misunderstanding about who was going to drive, and why.  The situation was settled by my sister, who bravely took the steering wheel.  And we were off to the Third Coast!

Just about that time a phone rang.  I was in the back seat (also called by some "the dog house" due to the previously mentioned situation) and I heard my sister say, "Hmmm, why am I calling MYSELF?"  The phone rang again a minute later.  This time I heard my sister say,"Oh, that's my husband's phone!"  We had driven only five miles or so by then, so it was not too much of a delay to turn around, so we drove back so that my sister and her hubby could exchange phones.  But the good news was that we were in no hurry, so there was no pressure.

We stopped at Cameron, after switching from Highway 77 to Highway 36.  The stop was for fuel, which was not really necessary, and for the "facilities" which WERE necessary for some in the vehicle.  We supplied ourselves with the necessities of a three-and-a-half hour road trip that could stretch out to four.  The supplies consisted of nutritious choices including powdered donuts, a cheese Danish, and of course, mini chewable SweeTarts (registered trademark).  With the purchase of these and other equally healthy choices, we again took to the road.

After leaving Cameron we drove to Milano.  After turning left on Hwy. 190 then right on Hwy. 36 again, we headed east toward what is, for me, one of the highlights of this stretch of the road trip. Just about five or so miles southeast of Milano stands a house, a most beautiful lady, made of limestone and built who knows when, but I am sure well before 1900.  For several years I watched helplessly as time and the elements took down this lady one piece at a time.  Then, probably around 2009 or 2010, someone purchased the house and began a renovation project that eventually restored this beautiful mansion to a grand appearance, if not its original glory.  Every time I pass this house, I am thankful for the new owner's gift to Texas.

The trip to Angleton was overall non-eventful, other than the suspense entailed every time someone in the truck announced "facilities" were needed but we were several miles from the next (legal) stopping place.  After about two scheduled stops (and at least two unscheduled stops) we arrived at our loved ones' residence.  We had a glad reunion, then we settled in for an afternoon of visiting, and also a few westerns on television, with one Chuck Norris oldie thrown in for variety.  The good thing about seeing good friends or your loved ones after a long absence is that it almost seems like the good times and conversation starts right where they ended on the previous visit.

My lovely bride and my uncle in Angleton are both great cooks, and when both are in the kitchen, the menu is guaranteed to satisfy.  I had made much progress over the winter toward my summer figure (or was that figment of the imagination?) but I probably set myself back at least two waist sizes on the dinner of the evening, and the pie fest that followed.  But if I have to let out the belt, it was all worth it! And it may well be that the larger than usual meal I consumed was in part to blame for my failure to launch this blog at the appropriate time. All I know is that I had a full meal, settled in for the "Hanging Tree," and that was the end of the night for me.  Thus ended Day 2.

Thanks for reading, and may God bless you all!