A Severe Blow to the Pride, Integrity, and Guts of Texas (and some Federal) Police

I have taken some time away from blogging, maybe I even gave up blogging.  But the recent and terrible murders in Uvalde, and the disgraceful police response to that shooting, have forced me to break my silence and to once again pound the keyboard.  The following blog is very serious in nature and you may not want to read it if you are sensitive, or if you are still reeling from the horror that took place in Uvalde.  And, if you are a police officer, be warned...this blog is not very favorable for the police of Texas.

 A Severe Blow to the Pride, Integrity, and Guts of the Texas (and some Federal) Police

One very high-ranking Texas police officer (whose agency played a part in this fiasco, by the way) said that the conduct of the police officers and agents on the scene in Uvalde at the Robb Elementary Massacre set Texas law enforcement back two decades.  I, for one, disagree with that statement.  Two decades ago (when I was a police officer) the shooter would have been engaged and shot dead within the first few minutes.  SWAT was a fairly new concept for Texas police departments in the 1980's, but many departments had SWAT teams or contributed members to county-wide or regional inter-agency SWAT teams.  BUT...in the end, if the SWAT team could not arrive in time to save hostages, it was up to officers (regular street "grunts" like me) to HANDLE THE SITUATION.

I wrote, in 2018, a rather "scathing" blog concerning a cowardly school resource officer, Deputy Scot Peterson, of the Broward County Sheriff's Office.  Deputy Peterson had ONE JOB, that was to keep the Parkland campus safe.  A person can't be at all places at all times, so Deputy (is it FORMER) Peterson can't bear the blame for the shooter entering the school building.  But what earned Peterson (I can't stand to keep calling him a deputy, or peace officer, for that matter) his undying fame in the annals of law enforcement, and in the minds of the people of this entire nation, was his decision to make a "tactical withdrawal" to the safety of his police cruiser while the shooter was killing school students just a few feet away from said cruiser.  

Peterson claims he was following training.  Yes, he was, and I am certain of that.  His department policy and his training in his police academy taught him to do a "tactical withdrawal" if he was outgunned and his safety was at stake, and to wait for the arrival of the SWAT team and back up officers.  BUT...and I say again...BUT...ALL OFFICERS IN EVERY POLICE ACADEMY IN THE UNITED STATES are also trained for the possibility that the "actor" (or offender) may begin killing people, or continue killing people, and there is NOT TIME to wait for the SWAT team.  In this situation, the officer must act to save people...by confronting and eliminating the shooter (or whatever weapon the actor is using) in the best way the officer can.  Of course the officer does not want to get shot...neither do the helpless victims!  Of course the officer does no one any good IF the officer gets shot or otherwise taken out of commission by the actor; however, the officer MUST DO SOMETHING to take out the actor!  Peterson's "something" was to continue cowering by his patrol car.  

To be fair to Peterson, two other officers from his department arrived quickly, and like Peterson, they also remained in "tactical defensive positions" while waiting for the SWAT team.  UNLIKE Peterson, however, those two officers had no idea where the shooter was, and did in fact need to stay in place for a moment until they received useful information from the first officer at the scene....Peterson.  But Peterson had no useful information for those deputies, and they stayed by their cruisers until more officers and equipment arrived and the SWAT officers then took out the shooter.  Peterson will forever be remembered as the most cowardly officer in law enforcement history....

Or at least that is what I thought.  I believed that every police officer in the United States of America would examine Deputy Peterson's actions, the lives lost because of his cowardice and failure to place the lives of the public (and especially the lives of those helpless school students who thought the school resource police would rescue them) above his own safety.  This terribly, horrific event (yes, the one truly to blame is the shooter, but once the shooter had set this event into action, the police should have stopped it quickly) would, I thought, cause every officer who respected his or her badge and his or her oath to the people to examine this cowardly officer's actions, and either to 1) resolve that this cowardly act would never happen again, or 2) the officers who could not uphold their oaths in times of personal danger would do the right thing and get jobs that did not hold the lives of people in the balance.

Flashing forward to May, 2022, surely the events of Parkland had galvanized law enforcement everywhere, but especially in Texas, to always place the safety of helpless victims over their own if at all possible.  Not to become more targets for the shooter, but to act in a tactical manner to end the situation and save lives because the situation is crumbling and SWAT is still not on the scene.  The first reports of the Robb Elementary Massacre told how police officers had fired shots at the shooter.  Later reports back off from that narrative, stating that officers had "drawn down" on the shooter but did not have a clear shot.  And of course, no one knew yet that officers had congregated in the school hallway for nearly an hour, doing LESS THAN NOTHING, while the shooter was still killing little kids.  Killing someone's children, killing someone's spouses (one the spouse of a local police officer).  

Only much later did we learn that the Uvalde Independent School District (UISD) Police Chief did nothing to coordinate a response.  In fact, he completely abdicated his position and responsibility.  As one state police officer said later, the Police Chief became a "rifleman in the trenches."  The Police Chief never organized a response, and did not even set up a field command where he could actually transfer scene command to someone willing to takeover, and competent to act.  Many people are very angry with Police Chief Arredondo, and well they should be.  His failure, his complete incompetence at the job he was paid to do and SWORN to do, directly resulted in more children being shot than would have been the case if the Chief had acted quickly and professionally, and even with just a "civilian's" level of common sense.  There was a shooter in the building who was still shooting; Obviously, the police ACT! But Chief Arredondo did not.  And he did not request that other ranking officers in other departments take over command of the scene since he was obviously incompetent to command.

But, Chief Arredondo was only the first level of incompetence.  Yes, people should be upset with him (to the point of terminating his employment), but there are also many others who failed to act when it was obvious that Chief Arredondo was crippled by incompetence, and maybe fear as well.  Sergeants, lieutenants, captains, commanders, special-agents-in-charge, and others arrived on the scene.  These were seasoned, professional supervisors and commanders who knew how to respond to this worse-case scenario situation.  After arriving on the scene, these leaders must have soon realized that Chief Arredondo was in over his head and had no idea what to do.  Perhaps he had never been in a real crisis, even though he had decades of police experience behind him.  In any case, one of these agency leaders who arrived on the scene should have assumed command and had Chief Arredondo escorted to some other location.  The point is that now, with many levels of command on scene, with SWAT officers on scene, with additional arms on scene, and with the largest assembly of police officers on a single crime scene in many years, it was time to act.  It was time for someone to step up!  But no one did.

As time went on, with the people of Uvalde watching, knowing that many children and others must have been injured or killed, not one single officer took it upon himself to make a move.  No group of officers decided among themselves to finally take action since no one would assume command, since no one would organize a SWAT team for an assault.  It was time to act!  But no one did.  Meanwhile, inside the classrooms shots still occasionally rang out.  Children were calling 9-1-1 on their cell phones, pleading for the officers to come rescue them.  Not one single officer stepped up!

A really sad note is that some citizens, noting that police were not taking action, themselves attempted to rescue their children.  Suddenly the police sprang into action.  They prevented as many parents and neighbors as possible from rescuing children, although a few were able to get some children out.  And, to be fair to police, some officers had rescued children who were not in the rooms controlled by the shooter.

In one of the most incredible, and saddest, and tragic police actions in the history of the United States, a SWAT team from the Border Patrol finally breached the door and shot the actor, a full seventy-seven minutes after the shooter entered the school building.  The shooter died.  Shot by a Border Patrol tactical agent, and possibly by others, including local police who entered with the Border Patrol.

Did cowardice have a role in the Uvalde police response?  Video snippets certainly show officers fleeing from gunfire rather than taking tactical positions so that they could "counter-attack" the shooter.  I believe that there were some officers on the scene, who like Deputy Peterson, stayed in "tactical defense" positions rather than face gunfire while trying to rescue those children.  It hurts me as a former police officer to call other officers cowards, but it is there for all to see.

But there is something in addition to cowardice, and that is failure to act!  In some ways, failing to act is even worse than cowardice.  We may not like cowards but we understand they are trying to save their own "necks!"  They have no business being police officers.  But the ones who were brave enough to act, who had the ability to take action, who had the numbers and the weaponry on their side, and STILL failed to act...that is almost harder for me to stomach in a cop than cowardice.  At least a true coward will run and hide, thus getting out of the way while more fit officers take action.  But where were the fit officers in Uvalde that day?  All the sources I have read number the police at between 370 and 400 officers.  Back in 1993, there were around 700 officers/agents involved in the final attack on Mount Carmel near Waco, and that was after the government had over a month to assemble its forces.

But unlike the bunkered army of nearly one hundred fanatics at Mount Carmel, there was only the one shooter at Uvalde.  Whether there were thirty or three hundred officers at the end, early on there were more than enough officers to confront one gunman.  Within minutes there were multiple officers.  Within half an hour officers from departments and agencies forty or fifty miles away had responded. Why was no action taken until some Border Patrol tactical agents arrived, noted the total police response breakdown, and took it upon themselves to take out the shooter?  These Border Patrol agents were working a case nearly seventy miles away from Uvalde when they received word of the shooter there.

Really it is impossible for anyone who was not there to break it down.  It is impossible for anyone who was not there to know which officers were cowards, and which officers failed to act simply because no one TOLD them to do something.  Well, actually the people of Uvalde were pleading with the officers to do something, but I am talking about officers not taking action because they were not "ordered" to take action.  Cowardice, incompetence, or simply waiting for orders...it does not matter.  The point is that every police officer there, of whatever rank, of whatever agency (except for a few brave officers who acted when "the brass" would not do anything) should do the right thing and GET OUT OF LAW ENFORCEMENT before your cowardice or incompetence or "sheepleness" gets someone else killed.  There are many jobs in the private sector you can do that do not hold the lives of men, women, or children in the balance.  Those officers should be ashamed of themselves that they disgraced their badge, their oath of office in a way that seems most cowardly and disgusting to "civilians."  You are not fit to be officers.  Please, do us all a favor and get out of public service now. 

Did I just say that nearly 400 officers need to leave law enforcement?  Yes, I did.  I will say it again.  Those officers (with the exception of the officers who took action) must do the right thing and resign.  Get out of law enforcement...you are a disgrace.  Yes, as the state police official said, your actions have sullied and stained Texas law enforcement in a way that will never be forgotten.  It will take decades for the people of Uvalde to trust the police again.  I believe this terrible tragedy has raised the issue of mistrust of the police to a state-wide, maybe even a national, level.  Will the police in my town or your city leave you at the mercy of a killer because the officers are incompetent, or worse, cowards?  May God help us that we never have to find out!

PS: 

You may wonder that I, a former police officer, am speaking so terribly of so many police officers.  You may be saying, hey...did YOU ever act to save someone instead of waiting for SWAT or waiting for "sufficient" backup?  Yes.  On two occasions, in particular.

First, after a shooting in a parking lot, the offender ran into an apartment, leaving a man dead outside.  Myself and another officer arrived in time to see the man look out a window at us, then disappear from view. He was in an apartment just after killing a man.  We had no idea if the apartment belonged to the shooter, the victim, or someone else.  More important, we had no idea if the person inside the apartment had hostages.  Other officers were on the way but the SWAT team, called in by pager (in those days) would not assemble and arrive for about fifteen minutes.  Believing that it was necessary to enter the apartment and arrest the shooter to protect anyone who might be in the apartment, we broke down the door, located the shooter, and took him into custody.  He decided to throw away his pistol rather than get shot.  

On another occasion a man had burst into a lady's house, confronted the lady and another man at gunpoint, and told the man to leave.  He told the lady to remain in the house with him.  As the man ran away, he heard a shot, which he thought was fired at him by the offender.  When I and another officer arrived, this man told us that the shooter was still in the house and was either holding the woman hostage or had possibly shot her.  The safe thing to do was to wait for SWAT, again, about a fifteen minute delay.  We knew a woman was in grave danger, possibly even wounded.  We took enough time to formulate a sort of a plan, then entered the house through the front and back doors simultaneously.  We found the lady crouched at the top of the stairs.  As we made our way up the stairs, I was able to see a man's boot behind the bed.  There was no cover and little concealment.  My sergeant and I rushed into the room prepared to fire and to be fired at, but it turned out that the offender had shot himself after killing the young woman who owned the house.  We were too late, but not because we had hesitated or failed to act.  The offender had shot the woman as soon as the other man ran out of the house.  That was the shot he heard.

Ultimately a police officer may be called on to risk his or her life to save the life of another.  That is what the police are supposed to do.  That is why society has largely abandoned wearing personal sidearms, instead choosing to let state-sanctioned authorities bear the responsibility of keeping the peace and protecting society in the process.  It may be that a police officer will one day be called on to risk his or her life, and even to lose his or her life, in the protection of others.  That is an officer's duty.  If you cannot accept that, please turn in your badge now!

Pre-Vacation Vacation, or, The Great Wrangler Fire of ‘20

 It is now the end of August, 2020.  I had intended to blog each day of my rather extended vacation, but that did not happen.  I ended up in Internet Nowhere for several days and did not blog then. But actually, my regularly scheduled three-day weekend prior to the beginning of my official vacation was much more exciting than anything that happened for the next fifteen days.

I drove from my headquarters, the Lazy H Ranch House,  in West Texas to my mother’s residence outside of Gatesville, so as to surprise her on her birthday.  Arriving on mid-morning Saturday, August 1st, I walked into her house and totally surprised her.  She looked at me like she was seeing a ghost, then chided me for surprising her, then hugged me because I had driven over three hundred miles to see her on her birthday.  Even when one is older and his mother is elderly, those motherly hugs are so great!

My mother is very elderly now, and I treasure these visits more and more as the days and weeks pass.  We talked about the family, the recent passing of her brother, our grandchildren, and all the memories of times gone by.  We had a simple lunch and talked a little longer, then she nodded off to sleep.  I told myself it was because she was tired, not because of the possibility that I could be boring company.   Then I sneaked into the kitchen and quietly washed the few dishes we had used during lunch, and mused to myself that this probably the first time I had done the dishes for my mom in over four DECADES!  Time has certainly flown by.  I recalled that the last time I had done dishes for her, it was under orders from Dad, who has been gone now for nearly thirty years.

After a fairly brief nap, Mom awoke and pretty much started the conversation exactly where we had been when she drifted away.  We talked a couple more hours, during which time Mom discovered that all the dishes were clean.  She playfully chided me for doing her work, but I enjoyed doing it for her.  I then decided to crank up my old Jeep Wrangler that I keep parked in her carport.  I had not driven this vehicle in over three months, and I was not sure if it would start at all.  But I was pleased when the engine turned over once slowly, then roared to life!  Jeep Wranglers are so dependable, and mine, a 1998 model, has well over two hundred thousand miles logged, mostly on the road, but a couple of hundred or more just circling through the Fiefdom, my little piece of heaven off the Levita Road.  Only “natives” of the area will know where that is.

So I climbed into the Jeep and headed for “town.”  I needed a tank of gas and a cool drink before I drove out to the Fiefdom for a little very mild four wheeling.  I stopped for fuel at a local convenience store but before buying fuel, I decided to buy a large bottle of water, then air up a low tire.  For this reason I parked on the side of the building close to the air pump and went inside.  

I was in the store about three or four minutes.  As I walked out, opening a two liter bottle of water, I rounded the corner of the building and saw smoke coming from some unseen vehicle on the other side of a really tall pickup.  I thought to myself, well, someone’s car is on fire.  Too bad for them.  But as I walked passed the huge Ford pickup, I saw that the smoke was coming from MY JEEP!  Not just smoke, but flames were billowing from UNDER my Jeep, JUST BELOW THE GAS TANK!  My first thought was I NEED A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!  My second thought was, I don’t have a fire extinguisher but I DO have two liters of water!

I ran immediately to the Jeep and began flinging the water as hard as I could onto the flames pouring out from the bottom of my beloved Wrangler!  It was then that I had my THIRD thought: If flames are pouring out from the fuel tank, I may be in 1) a slightly dangerous situation, and 2) my Jeep was doomed. At this point people were watching me as if I were the show, and I noticed that no one was using his or her cell phone to summon aid.  In fact a couple of folks seemed to be getting somewhat of a laugh at my predicament!  

As my panic faded to resignation to the loss of a longtime family member, I recalled that I was wearing a cell phone myself.  So I urgently dialed 9-1-1....that is, I TRIED to urgently dial 9-1-1.  My cell phone has a badly fractured screen which I have never bothered to replace because, well, the phone continued to work.  That is until this very critical moment that I really needed to get the fire department...fast!   

I futilely tapped the screen several times but the stupid phone would not unlock!  Unreal!, I thought.  Just as I was about to fling the phone, the screen came alive, and I dialed 9-1-1.  The nice lady on the other end said, “What is your emergency?”  She sounded so bored, and my Jeep was doomed!  But in my best faked calm voice, I told her....MY JEEP IS BURNING DOWN AT THE CEFCO ON THE HILLTOP!  This lady, apparently a native, knew exactly where this was.  She did not even ask the street address but calmly assured me that the fire department was on the way.

With flames still pouring from the fuel tank, I realized that if the Jeep exploded, several cars parked nearby would be damaged, as well as the store itself.  I bravely climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key.  Incredibly the Jeep started, and I drove it to the kaliche parking behind the store where the semi rigs park.  There was a big empty spot here, and when the Jeep finally blew, it would be the only casualty, other than me, if I were not  able to bail before the impending explosion.

It was at this point that I had my sixth or seventh thought (I had lost by now) that the burning “fuel” sure smelled like, well, burning weeds.  I was still pondering this when a gentleman driving a large pickup parked fairly close to the Jeep.  He was not in turnout gear but he was holding a radio and I knew he was the first firefighter on the scene.  As he ran over, he was broadcasting over the radio to other firefighters, and I could hear the faint sound of a distant siren.  Just then a second firefighter ran around the corner.  She was not in turnout gear, either, and told me she had been pumping gas into her own car when the fire alarm sounded on her radio.  

Did I mention that as yet the Jeep had not exploded?  In fact, the flames were actually receding!  This was a strange way for fire to act, I thought.

Just as a small brushfire unit rolled onto the parking lot, the first firefighter got a long crowbar out of his pickup bed and began poking at the flames that were still burning directly under the fuel tank.  When he did this, something fully engulfed in flames fell out of the back end of the Jeep.  At this point the men on the fire truck had run a hose under the Jeep and handed it to the firefighter with the crowbar.  He turned on the water works and blasted the bottom of the fuel tank.  Within seconds the fire was out and the Jeep was saved.

Not only was the Jeep “saved” but there seemed to be no fire damage whatever, not even blistered paint.  Now I am not a fireman, but even I realized that something weird had happened.  Then I noticed that the firefighters and a local police officer were examining a pile of still smoldering, weird-looking material.  I walked over and saw that the material was a huge (or at least huge BEFORE the fire) mass of very packed, and apparently woven, weeds and grass.  Like I mentioned, I am not a firefighter, but I realized that this burning mass of weedy substance was probably the source of the blaze.

The firefighters at the scene confirmed that the firmly packed, tightly woven weeds were indeed the source of the blaze.  They asked me how many hours I had been four-wheeling that day, and I told them “Zero!”  I had driven directly from Mom’s house to the store.  They all shook their heads and packed up the hose.  I thanked them profusely for saving my Jeep.  

Before leaving, several of the firemen and the lone police officer examined the Jeep from top to bottom.  There was absolutely NO fire damage anywhere!  They couldn’t believe it, but all of them shook my hand and told me how great my 1998 Jeep Wrangler looked, even though it had over two hundred thousand miles and had lately survived a fire. 

I ran a couple of errands and bought some dinner for Mom and I, and that was the end of the adventure. Well, not exactly...

Remember one of the reasons I had driven to the store in the first place?  I needed air in one of my tires.  I had aired up the tire after the fire was put out.  This tire was the tire that was exposed to the most of the fire.  I was headed back to Mom’s, enjoying the cool of the evening with all windows out of the Jeep, reveling in my good fortune that the Jeep had been saved from the fire, when BAMN!!!  The Jeep heeled hard to the right.  I let the vehicle slow on its own and pulled off the road.  The tire I had just aired up had exploded, blowing out the entire sidewall.

Well, I was still in a good mood, so even the prospect of changing a blowout did not dampen my spirits.  That is until I found that all of the lugs on that particular tire were on so tight that not even my great efforts and all the banging on the lug nuts did not even budge the last two.  What a situation!  I was about nine miles from Mom’s, the food was not getting any hotter, and I could not put the spare tire on, because I could not get the ruined tire off the rim.  Another phone call on my battered phone and my brother arrived with a bigger lug wrench, a pipe, and some WD-40.  Even then, it took (his) superhuman effort to loosen that last nut.  But minutes later the spare was on and I was on my way back to Mom’s.  What a night.  And it was only 7 PM.

I spent the remainder of the evening with Mom, again talking about family and the good times.  Finally both of us were tired and retired for the evening.  Sunday morning I took Mom to the little church where she once worshipped regularly, but now is able only to go occasionally when she feels up to leaving the house.  Afterwards Mom and I were supposed to join my sister-in-law for dinner, but Mom was tired from the effort of attending church services once again.  I had lunch with my sister-in-law and her family, then returned to Mom’s for a couple more hours of visiting.  Then finally a hug, and I was out the door and gone, with Coryell County fading fast in the rear view mirror.  

All of this and I was not really even on vacation yet.  Spoiler alert:  My actual vacation was so mundane and peaceful that it may not actually rate a blog, even though I was off work for over twenty days.  Oh yes, as for the fire that nearly burned down my beloved Jeep, I found similar weedy material in the carport at my Mom’s house.  From this material, I pieced together the following theory: An animal, possibly a raccoon, an opossum, or even a rat, had built a huge nest, possibly housing more than one “family,” between the skid plate and the fuel tank.  This nest, made of densely packed, tightly woven weeds and grass, had heated up to the ignition point while I was driving the ten miles or so from Mom’s to the store on the “Hilltop.”  It was already burning when I parked at the store, and was fully aflame when I walked out the store with my two liter bottle of water.  Interestingly, I have rarely ever bought a two liter bottle of water.  I am not sure why I bought it that day, but it turned out I needed it.

That was quite a weekend.  Here is a BIG SHOUT-OUT to the men and women of the Gatesville Volunteer Fire Department and the officer from the Gatesville Police Department.  Thank you all for saving my Wrangler, and thank all of you folks for reading my blog.

May God Bless America!

   

Long Time No Blog

I have not blogged in some time, and for a couple of reasons.  One reason is that I and my lovely bride have spent many hours with our children in the evening while their parents are working (Child B and B1 -son-in-law - have their own business that operates in the afternoon and late evenings).  We are so blessed to have these two lovely grandchildren and especially blessed to care for them, and I would rather sacrifice my time at blogging to enjoy the presence of these two little angels.  

The second reason I have not been attentive to blogging is that I have been so upset with the way things have gone in this nation since the "pandemic" broke out that I felt I might post something more emotional than factual, or at least more emotional than it needed to be, so I just left off the blogging for awhile.  I had nothing positive to add for quite awhile, and there was more than enough negative to go around, so I just held my peace.

I should be honest and amend this last statement: I did not post my negative or reactionary comments in facebook; I found another forum more suited to that and monitored by fewer people.  Not that I cared who monitored, but that I did not want to upset any of my friends on facebook.

I and my lovely bride are on vacation, and I once again intend to chronicle our adventures, but not in this post.  There is something more somber that I felt moved to write about.  One of my dear friends lost her husband so unexpectedly just a few days ago.  I have no idea what that feels like, how the heart breaks in that situation, and I don't want to find out anytime soon.  We have all lost relatives if we are over a few days old, but when a life-long partner, a beloved heart, is lost, that has to be one of the worst pains the one left behind must ever have to bear.  So many others from my old home town have lost their loved ones recently, and even my own family have been touched with this pain, twice just days apart. 

So it was that before I could truly begin blogging about more mundane things, I have to let this feeling out of my heart.  There are some that are hurting right now, that if I could, I would gladly take the place of the lost one, so that these could be reunited and not have to feel this pain just now, but that is not possible.  All I know for sure is that the Good Shepherd is both compassionate enough to embrace those who are called home, and to put His loving arms of comfort around those who are left behind, to warm their wounded hearts through the coldness of the loss and loneliness they feel now, and will feel for some time to come.  The Good Shepherd also has provided for loved ones to be reunited in Heaven, and that is one Hope on which we who are His children can surely rely.  

Speaking of that Hope that the Good Shepherd has assured is ours, I have to remind myself that this world is not really my home...as one person wrote...I am just a passin' through.  Yes, I am worried about the direction the United States, that is many people in the United States, have taken, and such direction even encouraged and furthered by our supposed "leaders."  Quite honestly, I have even wondered how much longer these United States will remain so.  But once again, THIS world IS NOT my home.  Jesus and His deciples lived in the times of one of the worst tyrannies ever seen, yet the Church survived and thrived, and saw to the collapse of that particular evil empire.  Remember the Hope I just mentioned?  That Hope, that I am a Child of God, therefore a citizen of Heaven, far overcomes any fear I may have about the future of this nation in which we live.  God may straighten us out and leave us intact as a nation, or He may take some other course.  Either way, those who are truly citizens of Heaven have nothing to truly fear.  Because either way, God is in control.

This post may sound a little "religious" to some, but be that the case nor not, I urge each of you who have citizenship where it truly counts to do your part on this earth to spread the Good, but also trust in the Good Shepherd, no matter what may come to pass here.  If you are hurting, let the Good Shepherd embrace you, and lay your burdens, your worries, and your cares on Him.

Before I close, I would like to hold up the law officers of Texas who have lost their lives in the line of duty since January 1, 2020:

JANUARY

Officer Nicholas Reyna, Lubbock PD - accidentally struck by passing motorist

Officer Alan McCollum, Corpus Christi PD - vehicular assault

FEBRUARY

Deputy Richard Whitten, Liberty County Sheriff's Office -gunfire

MARCH

Senior Deputy Scott Kporzilius, Travis County Sheriff's Office - traffic accident

Corrections Officer IV Amanda De Leon - traffic accident

Sheriff Kirk A. Coker, Sheriff of Hutchinson County - heart attack while on duty

APRIL

Corrections Officer IV Kevin Wilcher - Covid 19

Officer Justin Putnam, San Marcos PD - gunfire

Corrections Officer V Jonathan Goodman - Covid 19

TDCJ Chaplain Akbar Shabazz - Covid 19

Corrections Officer Coy Cuffman - Covid 19

Deputy John Rhoden, Bell County Sheriff's Office - accidentally struck by motorist

Corrections Officer V James Coleman - Covid 19

Deputy (Detention) Timothy De La Fuente - Covid 19

MAY

Officer Jason Knox, Houston PD - helicopter crash

Deputy Sergeant Raymond Scholwinski, Harris County Sheriff's Office - Covid 19

Corrections Officer V Jessie Bolton - Covid 19

Corrections Officer V Maria Mendez - Covid 19

Chief Marvin Trejo, Dumas PD - Covid 19

Deputy Constable Caleb Rule, Fort Bend County - accidental shooting

JUNE

Corrections Officer V Thomas Ogungbire - Covid 19

Deputy Sergeant Dale Multer, Travis County Constable's Office - Covid 19

JULY

Texas Parole Officer IV Joseph Lange - Covid 19

Corrections Officer Kenneth Harbin - Covid 19

Lieutenant Bobby Almeger, Corpus Christi Airport PD - Covid 19

US Border Patrol Agent Enriquez Rositas - Covid 19

Officer Ismael Chavez, McAllen PD - gunfire

Officer Edelmiro Garza, McAllen PD - gunfire

US Department of Home Security Agent Roel De La Fuente - Covid 19

Director N. Kyle Coleman, Bexar County Fire Marshal's Office - Covid 19

Corrections Officer V Jerry Esparza - Covid 19

Corrections Officer IV Jackson Pongay - Covid 19

Investigator Mark Brown, Harris County Constable's Office - Covid 19

US Border Patrol Agent Austin Aguilar - Covid 19

Corrections Officer IV Ruben Martinez - Covid 19

Corrections Officer V Eric Johnson - Covid 19

May the Good Shepherd comfort those left behind by the loss of these men and women who served the Texas public, doing jobs that many people would not want to do, but without which this society could not function.  

As for me, yes...long time, no blog...but it is time to start again.  Tomorrow, the Vacation Chronicles begin!

A "No Knock" Drug Raid Leaves A Three-Year-Old Girl In The Hospital

I am normally supportive of police officers and police departments as much as I can be in a given situation, having served for several years as a Texas peace officer.  Some say I am a little TOO supportive of the police, and perhaps I can be from time to time.  But a recent event in Midland has caused a lot of controversy, and has brought a lot of criticism, for the Midland Police Department.  Unfortunately I find myself being in a position of not supporting the police on this one.

Late in the evening on January 22, 2020, the Midland Police Department, led by the SWAT Unit, conducted an unannounced (sometimes called a No Knock) drug raid on a particular residence.  In fact, this was the SECOND drug raid on this residence.  As a prelude to knocking down the front door, the police threw a "flash bang" grenade through one of the windows of the residence.  As the officers then knocked open the front door, a sixteen-year-old boy ran toward the officers with something in his hand, and at least one officer fired his weapon, striking the young man in the arm.  The young man took shelter and began telling the police that his three-year-old sister was in a bedroom.  Police say that at about this time the little girl ran out of the bedroom and was bleeding very badly.  A quick exam showed that she had been shot in the back.  No adults were present in the home at this time, and - at the time of this writing - the police have not flat out stated whether or not the sixteen-year-old had a gun or knife in his hand, or had anything at all in his hand.

Luckily no one was killed in this "no knock" drug raid.  The young man was treated for his wound and placed in the local juvenile detention center, for what charge, we do not know at this time.  The little girl was in critical condition and was airlifted to a children's hospital in Lubbock for advanced medical treatment.  At the time of this writing she is still in the hospital.  She may even have permanent injuries, that is still unknown at this time.  A big question remains: Will she have permanent emotional scars from this incident?  Only time will tell.

These two children are two of the latest victims of the never-ending "war on drugs."  I think the "war on drugs" was "declared" in the late 1960's.  This "war" has never come close to being "won," nor do I think it will be won, by government agencies, but only by a change in people's habits, although this is a blog for another story.  I digress...

My first observation on the January 22nd drug raid is that this was the SECOND drug raid on the residence.  The owner (the children's father) was the suspect in that incident, yet he was not in jail or prison at the time of this raid.  In fact, he was not even AT HOME when the raid occurred.  He had apparently left his oldest child in charge of the youngest.  This is speculation, because so far no information has been made known as to where the mother was at the time the raid occurred.

My second observation is that the police seemed to have done little to no surveillance prior to this raid, or they would have known that the prime suspect was not in the house.  I hate to go to the next logical thought, but there is the possibility that the police DID conduct surveillance prior to the raid, KNEW the father was gone, KNEW the children were in the home alone, and thus KNEW that there was no reason for a "no knock" drug raid, because there was no one home who would attempt to destroy the evidence when police knocked on the door and IDENTIFIED themselves before breaking into the house.  Either way, this ill-advised drug raid very nearly cost two innocent children their lives.  Even though I am a former officer, I can say this loud and clear: NO AMOUNT OF DOPE, and NO DRUG DEALER, IS WORTH THE LIFE OF A SINGLE INNOCENT PERSON - LET ALONE TWO CHILDREN!!!!!

Here I will back off just a bit to say that I was not there, so I cannot put myself into the shoes of the officer or officers who shot at the teenager - maybe he WAS armed.  An officer has the right to defend himself or herself, even in a no knock drug raid.  But here I will get back on my soap box again.

My third observation: Any person has a right to defend his or her home against break-in. Think about this.  You are sitting in your home.  It is dark outside.  Maybe the neighbor's dog has suddenly started barking.  Suddenly something shatters a window.  You suddenly think about your family, about protecting them at all costs.  You grab a knife, a gun, whatever you have at hand, and you run to face the danger.  Suddenly the front door splinters and masked men in military gear come through the door, maybe yelling something, maybe not.  You act. You fire your weapon, something hits you, you are bleeding, and you go down.  It is only then that you hear someone yelling "POLICE - STAY DOWN!  KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!

Now think about this.  An adult in this situation would be afraid, would be worried about the other family members.  Try to think about how this sixteen-year-old felt.  He must have been terrified.  Then he hears his little sister crying, sees her covered with blood.  Would you be calm and cooperative in this situation?  Perhaps the juvenile was not, I don't know.  But after coming close to being killed, after seeing his sister seriously injured, can you blame a person for not being calm and cooperative.

Like I said, I try to support the police when I can, but I am a little weak on police support in this incident.  And I know that this scenario plays itself out across the nation many times every day.  But the drug war goes on, as witnessed by the turmoil and death that even now is still going on in Mexico, with no end in sight.  Certainly "no knock" raids have made no significant impact on the continuing "War On Drugs."

There is no end in sight for "no knock" drug raids, either, it appears.  This is what really concerns me.  Every person has the right to defend his or her family, home, and property.  This means EVERY PERSON, including criminals.  Even a "dope dealer" has the right to these things, because the masked man breaking down the door might NOT be a police officer.  I know that if a person broke down my door and entered my residence, he would very likely NOT walk out under his own power.  I would do everything I could to defend my family and my home.  Under the stress of that moment, would I even be able to hear the person yelling "POLICE"?  How many shots would I have fired by that point.  It would not matter if I were not the "suspect," or if the police had gone to the "wrong" address.  When someone breaks into another's home, the occupant has to act quickly if he or she intends to save his or her loved ones.

"No knock" raids, or searches, are special situations that can only be approved by a judge.  True, ALL search warrants must be approved by a judge, but search warrants in which an officer requests a no knock entry require special approval, based on extenuating circumstances which must be articulated so that the no knock entry is justified.  A judge is not required to grant a no knock entry.  To do so, the judge must be satisfied that there is significant risk to officers or significant chance of losing valuable evidence.

Back to the Midland raid.  First of all, there has been no information made public as yet that showed the need for a no knock entry.  Second, there has been no information provided by the police as to whether or not officers knew one or both parents were not in the house.  Conversely, it is possible that the police did know the two children were alone, but that information has not been made public, nor will it be, at least before the inevitable lawsuits are filed.  But if the police had availed themselves to good intelligence, that is, to proper surveillance, and if they knew the two children were in the house alone, there was really no reason to enter the house without announcing themselves.  The two children would more than likely NOT have destroyed evidence, which they quite likely knew nothing about.

In the wake of this tragedy, the near death of two children, and the severe wounding of one of those children, it is my hope that the Midland Police Department, and any departments that are aware of this incident, will change the way they handle drug raids, including surveillance just prior to the raid.  I certainly hope that police agencies will re-evaluate the need for no knock drug raids, and will use this tool in a way that courts intended, and that is for only the most dangerous of raids, where loss of life, or loss of extremely valuable evidence, could warrant the forfeiture of one of our most basic rights, that is the right to be secure in our homes and free from unreasonable search or seizure.

May God continue to care for this little girl and grant her a full recovery.

I still support the police, but only when they act reasonably and responsibly.   May the Good Shepherd keep all officers safe as they perform their duties - that is to PROTECT and to serve the public.

The aircraft carrier USS Doris Miller - And Doris Miller, The Hero

Yesterday, on the day of this year's remembrance of Martin Luther King, Jr., the United States Navy announced that one of the aircraft carriers soon to be built will be named in honor of Doris Miller, a Navy cook who rescued several injured sailors on the USS West Virginia during the 1941 surprise attack on Pearl Harbor.  After helping some crew members escape Miller also rescued the ship's captain.  During the these rescues, bombs were falling, and Japanese planes were constantly strafing ships and firing torpedoes.  Sailor Miller was now a bona fide hero, but he was not finished.  He ran back on board his ship and manned an anti-aircraft gun, which he fired continuously and alone for several minutes, until he ran out of ammunition.  He and the other remaining crew were ordered to abandon ship.  A few minutes later the USS West Virginia went down.

I learned about Doris Miller in the late 1970's when I went to work for the Waco Police Department.  The YMCA gymnasium where police recruits received physical training was named in honor of Doris Miller.  I had never heard of Doris Miller until then, and the first thing I learned about Doris Miller was that he was not a lady.  In fact, Doris Miller was a local boy from Waco, a local football hero of great size and ability.  And, I learned, Doris Miller answered the call for patriots to defend the nation, and the world, during the early days of World War II.  The third thing I learned about Doris Miller was that he was a Black man.  He had been treated the way most Black people were treated in those days - as segregated, second-class citizens.  But, like thousands of other Black men, he answered that patriotic call to duty anyway, to fight for the freedom that he himself did no fully enjoy.

In the Navy, most Black men were given the least preferred assignments, and Miller was no exception.  He was assigned as a mess attendant on the USS West Virginia, but he also received training as an ammunition handler for a fifty-caliber machine nest, as his "battle station" assignment.  The USS West Virginia cruised off toward an exotic location he had most likely never heard of - Pearl Harbor, in the Hawaiian Islands.  This was supposed to be a peaceful assignment in a tropical paradise.  Unknown to most Americans, however, events in Japan were already set in motion, and the peaceful tropical paradise was just an illusion, to be shattered on the morning of 7 December, 1941.

Doris Miller, or "Dorie" as he was known to his companions by this time, survived that fateful day at Pearl Harbor.  After the Pear Harbor attack, Miller was assigned to the USS Indianapolis.  In 1943, Dorie was transferred to the USS Lipscombe Bay, a small type of aircraft carrier known as an escort carrier.  Miller would spend the rest of his days on the Lipscombe Bay.  But Doris Miller's days were numbered.  His ship was attacked on 24 November, 1943.  A Japanese submarine fired a single torpedo, striking the stern of the Lipcombe  Bay, subsequently igniting the bombs on the carrier. Doris Miller and 644 other sailors lost their lives that day.  His body, along with many others, was not recovered.

I commend the Navy for honoring Doris Miller in this way.  Actually another ship, a frigate, was named for Miller and was commissioned in 1973, but I believe it is fitting to name a new aircraft carrier after this larger than life, but largely unsung hero of the War in the Pacific.

Thank you, Dorie, for your service to this country, and for the lives that you saved.  Congratulations to your family and to your memory for the honor that was bestowed on you yesterday.  You are truly an American hero.

Happy 70th Anniversary to the Midland Memorial Hospital Ladies' Auxiliary

Today the Midland Memorial Hospital Auxiliary, the "Pink Ladies" (and "Blue Men"), celebrated the 70th anniversary of their founding.  The organization was formed in 1950 by a group of local doctors' wives (yes, in the fifties the vast majority of doctors were men) who wanted to give back to the community.  In those days, Midland's new hospital had just opened, and  was still not well equipped.  The ladies of the newly-formed auxiliary began the tradition of holding various fundraising events through the year, then purchasing equipment that the hospital needed, but for which no operating funds were available. 

By the 1980's the Ladies' Auxiliary had opened a gift shop that offered gifts and sundries to help make patients and visitors more comfortable while at Midland Memorial, the only hospital in Midland County.  The proceeds from the gift shop, along with other fundraisers, allowed the Ladies' Auxiliary to provide quite substantial gifts to Midland Memorial Hospital.  For instance, in the mid-90's, the Ladies' Auxiliary purchased and donated two fully-equipped mobile intensive care ambulances to MMH.  The latest gift to Midland Memorial, worth over $250,000, includes incubators and other equipment for the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit scheduled to open later this year.

Kim Modisett, the current Auxiliary Director, noted that, since 1950, the the Ladies' Auxiliary has donated over $11,000,000 worth of medical equipment or facility improvements.  That figure is astounding, but becomes astronomical when the dollar equivalent of volunteer hours worked (approximately $12,000,000) is added to the equation.  Yes, over the years the Ladies' Auxiliary has donated the equivalent of $23,000,000 to Midland Memorial Hospital. 

Congratulations to Kim Modisett and all the ladies (and men) who presently serve, or have served in the past, in the Auxiliary!  Thank you so much for all you have given back to Midland Memorial Hospital and the people of Midland County, Texas!

EOW: Officer Nicholas Reyna, Lubbock Police - Lieutenant Eric Hill, Lubbock Fire Department - January 11, 2020

In what was a double tragedy, the City of Lubbock lost a police officer and a firefighter in one single, terrible second.

Police Officer Nicholas Reyna of the Lubbock Police Department and Lieutenant Eric Hill of the Lubbock Fire Department were both struck and killed by a vehicle while they were engaged in investigating a traffic accident.  While both men were working the first accident scene, a second vehicle crashed nearby.  Officer Reyna and Lieutenant Hill went to the aid of the driver of the second vehicle. 

While these and other officers and firefighters worked the second accident, and with emergency vehicles parked all around, a THIRD vehicle approached the scene.  The driver of that vehicle lost control of his vehicle, which then struck Officer Reyna, Lieutenant Hill, and a second firefighter.  Officer Reyna and Lieutenant Hill both lost their lives at the scene.  The second firefighter survived and is in critical condition at this time.

May the Good Shepherd comfort the families of both of these men, and speed the recovery of the surviving fireman, and may He comfort the police officers and firefighters who lost their brothers in the line of duty. 

On This Day in History, Jacob Rubenstein Died

On this day in 1967, a man named Jacob Rubenstein died in a Dallas hospital.  Only weeks earlier doctors discovered that Rubestein, aka Jack Ruby, the infamous killer of Lee Harvey Oswald, had terminal lung, liver, and brain cancer.

Jack Ruby was a Chicago native, born of Jewish parents.  He was a troubled child who was raised by troubled, abusive parents.  He spent his teenage years gambling on horse races and skipping out of high school.  As a young man he became involved with a local garbage collectors' union that eventually fell under the umbrella of the Teamsters' Union.  Apparently he attracted the attention of a "mob" boss because he was set up as manager of several night clubs and drinking establishments in Dallas, even though he had never lived in Dallas nor did he have any "legitimate" connections in the Dallas area.

Dallas police and the Dallas County sheriff soon became familiar with Jack Ruby, some because they handled him for minor liquor violations, and some because, to curry favor with the police, Ruby provided them with free liquor and dining, AND prostitutes.  The police also believed Ruby had ties to the Mafia due to his sudden appearance in Dallas and his quick rise to manager of so many "mob controlled" drinking establishments.  Still, Ruby was considered only a minor crime figure, and a police buff.  His familiarity (and bribery) of so many police officers opened many doors for Ruby to high police officials, and more importantly, gave Ruby a virtually unlimited pass to the restricted areas of the Dallas Police Department.  Thus Jack Ruby was able to be "the man on the spot" when Lee Harvey Oswald was led out of his cell and through the basement of the Dallas police station.  An armored car was waiting for President Kennedy's killer, but Oswald never made it out of the halls of the police building.  Jack Ruby fired a single shot from his snub-nose revolver, but it was a deadly hit, damaging Oswalds, spleen, stomach, kidney, aorta, and vena cava.  Oswald died only an hour later, in the very same hospital that the President had succumbed to Oswald's bullet.*

One interesting fact I never new about Jack Ruby was that he was actually convicted of murdering Oswald.  I had always thought Ruby died of cancer before his trial.  In fact, Ruby had been in prison since 1964.  But in 1967 the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals reversed Ruby's conviction because (among other things) Ruby's oral confession to Oswald's murder was illegally obtained and should not have been admitted in the original trial.  That seems absurd to me, since a Pulitzer prize winning photograph had captured forever the very moment that Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald.  So even with a void confession, the evidence against Ruby was overwhelming.  Ah, but Justice moves in mysterious ways...

So Jack Ruby died on this day in 1967, an innocent man, at least in the eyes of the law, his conviction having been thrown out by the highest criminal court in Texas.  Cancer killed Jack Ruby.  I had always believed that the Mafia had picked Jack Ruby to kill Oswald, since Ruby himself was dying, and thus had nothing to lose, so to speak.  But apparently no one knew Ruby had cancer, perhaps not even Jack Ruby himself.  Or, did he?

*I am not entering the conspiracy debate in this post for purposes of brevity, but I will say that I am a member of the conspiracy theorists who do not believe the "lone gunman theory," a theory which is belied by the multiple directions the President's head flies during the shooting.

This is my first post of the new year.  First of all I would like to wish everyone a happy New Year, not just the first day, but the entire year.  I have not posted for the last month or so of 2019, and I would like to "close out" the 2019 blog year before I move on.

First, I would like to honor several fallen police officers in Texas, all who lost their lives in the line of duty during October and December of 2019:

Deputy Matthew Jones, Falls County Sheriff's Office - EOW 10-11-19  
Deputy Jones was struck by a vehicle while he and the Police Chief of Riesel, TX PD were assisting a stranded motorist during rainy weather.  An approaching vehicle hydroplaned, striking both officers.  The Police Chief was seriously injured but survived the accident.

Sergeant Christopher Brewster, Houston Police - EOW 12-07-19
Sergeant Brewster and other officers responded to a domestic disturbance.  Upon arrival at the residence, police learned that the caller and her abuser had left the home together on foot.  Sergeant Brewster spotted the couple and pulled to the curb.  As he got out of his car the suspect opened fire, hitting the officer several times.  The sergeant was transported to a nearby hospital but passed away a short time later.

Sergeant Kaila Sullivan, Nassau Bay Police (Houston area) - EOW 12-10-19
Sergeant Sullivan and another officer were attempting to arrest a wanted felon during a traffic stop.  The suspect resisted arrest and assaulted both officers.  During the struggle the suspect broke loose from both officers and got into his car.  Instead of simply driving away, he intentionally struck the sergeant with his vehicle, running over her.  He arrested two days later.  Sergeant Sullivan died of her injuries shortly after this incident.

Officer Humberto Meza, Burnet Police Department - EOW 12-20-19
Officer Meza and his canine partner had participated with several other officers in canine training.  During the training Officer Meza began feeling badly and eventually left the event.  The next morning he became unresponsive and his wife called for assistance.  Officer Meza was not revived and passed away due to a heart attack.

Detective Clifton Martinez, San Antonio ISD Police - EOW 12-21-19
Detective Martinez was working off duty a local restaurant on the evening of this incident.  A fight broke out between several restaurant patrons.  The detective got all the parties outside the restaurant, but was attacked by two or more suspects.  He was knocked to the ground.  One or more of the suspects got into a nearby vehicle and ran over the officer while he still lay in the parking lot.

Deputy Bryan Pfluger, San Jacinto Sheriff's Office - EOW 12-21-19
Deputy Pfluger was driving behind another sheriff deputy's vehicle as both were responding to a burglary.  The unit in front of Deputy Pfluger slowed suddenly to make a right turn.  Deputy Pfluger swerved to avoid hitting the other unit, but clipped the vehicle, causing his own patrol unit to flip over.  Deputy Pfluger was ejected from the vehicle, and died from the injuries he sustained due to being ejected.

Deputy Chris Dickerson, Panola County Sheriff's Office - EOW 12-31-19
Deputy Dickerson made a traffic stop at around 2:00 AM near Gary City.  The driver of the other car stepped out of his car and immediately began firing a semi-automatic rifle, striking the deputy six times.  Nearby residents heard the gunfire and investigated.  They found the deputy in the road by his car.  The suspect had already driven away and was subsequently arrested in Shreveport.

May the Good Shepherd continue to comfort the loved ones and friends of these officers, as well as their colleagues.  Several of these officers leave behind young wives and small children.  After all the funerals are done and the honors made, those who are left behind must face life without their police officers, their spouses, their fathers or mothers, their sons or daughters.  May the Good Shepherd continue to help them all.

For me, 2019 proved to be a year of blessings.  My lovely bride and I moved into our new home in September.  Speaking of my lovely bride, she received a professorship at a local university early in the year.  As the year went on, she completed research in connection with her dissertation, wrote the dissertation, got it approved, and, in November, successfully defended it.  On December 14th, she received her hard-earned PhD in Nursing.  I am so proud of her and all she has accomplished over the years.  And we both love our new house.


2020

The new year rolled in pretty quietly in my house.  My lovely bride and I watched several of the college football "bowl games" that were played throughout New Year's Eve, so by 11:00 PM we were both toast (NOT TOASTED) from having watched the grand kids all day and watching all those ball games.  I would not have traded the day for anything.  But my lovely bride and I did not imbibe heavily at all due to caring for the rugrats.  The kids went home and Honey and Poppee hit the sack pretty quickly.  The fireworks did not bother me in the least as I faded off into the land of Nod.

By 8:00 New Year's morning, I had broken several resolutions, one of which was that I would get up early to do some of the other things that I had resolved to do during the new year.  I also missed my meditation period, another resolution I made.  In fact it was after noon when I actually opened my eyes for the day.  I had risen earlier in the morning, pre-dawn, but that was just a for a pit stop, then I was back in the sack.  My lovely bride and I picked up the kids not long after that.  We treasure the time we get to spend with our little grand babies, so it was a treat to get them for another day.  We had a quick lunch, went shopping, then back home.  I played with the kids until I was tired, then I took a break: It was time for the Baylor - Georgia game, the Sugar Bowl.  At least I thought it was going to be a game.  It turned out to be a beat-up on Baylor game.  After the game was over, we got the granddaughter to bed.  The little boy had gone to bed much earlier.  The kids love it when they get to have a "sleep over."  I have to admit, I love it too!

On Jan. 2, I once again broke the above mentioned resolutions, although the children did not let us sleep until noon.  By 9:00 AM both kids were up and "play day" was in full swing.  A little later Honey made breakfast for everyone.  After breakfast...you guessed it...more play day!  I chased the kids around all afternoon, although I noticed that Honey had disappeared.  Turns out she sneaked off for a nap while the children kept me occupied.  The kids stayed with us until after 6:00 PM.  I was tired when Mom and Dad came to get them, but I was sure sorry to see them go.  They were happy to see Mommy and Daddy, and really excited to learn that they were going to visit their little cousins.  So Honey and Poppee got kisses and hugs (from both sets of kids) and they were gone.  And the house was so quiet.  It is always a little sad to see everyone leave, but always so good when they return for another visit, or even a sleep over.

As for as New Year's resolutions, I did actually make a few, and have already broken some of them, but there is one resolution I have not broken.  I would like to share this resolution with you, and encourage you to give it a try...that is, join me in doing this for the next thirty days.  I believe that after the thirty days are up, you will still continue with it, as will I.

The resolution that I am talking about is this: I resolved to write down each morning ten things I am grateful for.  Yes, I know the grammar is not correct, but this is the way most of us talk around here.  Ten things I am grateful for.  This can be anything I happen to think about, even simple things, like having awakened one more day, or having slept in a warm, soft bed overnight.  This simple technique is actually powerful, because, almost unconsciously, you will slowly but surely develop an attitude of gratitude.  With a grateful attitude, the little things and the big things that may have been annoying before, now are less stressful, more manageable, easier to deal with.

The second part of this technique is to write down five things, at the end of the day, that were a blessing to you.  Again, these can be simple things like someone smiled at me, I found a dime on the ground, the grandchildren came to visit, etc.  This is best done around bedtime, because for most of us, this time allows us to slow down and really examine our day, and the blessings we received, the good things that happened, during the day.  Again, this exercise is to help us notice our blessing, appreciate them, and, in doing so, develop that attitude of gratitude

I would like to challenge anyone who reads this to do this exercise, only committing to doing so for thirty days.  You will more than likely really develop the attitude of gratitude, and you will not want to stop this exercise when you reach the thirty day point.  I suspect that most people who try this will end up using this technique for years, or at least consciously realizing and appreciating how blessed they truly are.  I have only done this two days and I am already becoming more aware and appreciative of the blessings in my life.  So please, give it a try.  You have nothing to lose but a small notebook that you need to keep your writing in.  Good luck, and Happy New Year's to everyone.

A Police Officer Convicted Of Murder

In one of the most unusual events in police history, a police officer entered an apartment she believed to be her own, saw a man in "her" apartment, saw the man get up and move in her direction, and fired her weapon, killing this man.  The only problem for this police officer was that she was not in her apartment, the man was not armed, and she did not use less-than-lethal alternatives, nor did she simply back away, set up a perimeter, and call for assistance on her radio or her cell phone.

Amber Guyger, former Dallas Police Officer, made many mistakes on the night she shot Botham Jean, mistakes that a reasonable person in her position most likely would not have made.  More specifically, she made mistakes that a reasonable police officer would not have made, or should not have made.  She went to the wrong apartment.  Yes, the door to the apartment was either unlocked or standing slightly open.  Yes, an open door to one's home is a good indication of burglary.  But, Amber Guyger opened the door and walked into what she thought was her apartment.  She immediately saw a man seated at the dining table, eating ice cream.  Does a burglar sit and eat in a house he has broken into?  Oddly enough, YES, they sometimes do.  BUT...finding a man eating ice cream could also be an opportunity for an officer to pause, take a good look around, and maybe discover that he or she was in the wrong apartment.

As an officer, if I found an open door, I immediately called for back-up.  No, not because I was afraid, but because if the burglar tried to escape, two or more officers were more likely to make the arrest successfully than would be one officer.  Even if I were at my own house and suspected a burglar to be inside, my police training would kick in, and I would follow standard procedure.  Why Amber Guyger did not, we may never know.  Did Botham Jean actually make a threatening move toward Officer Guyger?  We may never know.  But he was unarmed.  That fact alone made this situation a "don't shoot" situation.  Did he get irate that a police officer was suddenly in his home?  More likely, did he become frightened and desperately ask why the officer was in his apartment? 

If Officer Guyger was shouting something like, "what are you doing in my house?!" it would be natural for Botham Jean, or any man, to be both confused and angry.  Perhaps Mr. Jean was shouting for Guyger to get out of HIS house!  And rightfully so.  Amber Guyger said that Mr. Jean moved toward her in a threatening manner, placing her in fear for her life.  At least one crime scene specialist felt that Mr. Jean was found in a "cowering position."

After the shooting, Amber Guyger, in the recording of her 9-1-1 call, stated several times that she would probably lose her job.  Instead of being concerned with aiding Mr. Jean, Amber was worried about her future.  She also delayed physically aiding Mr. Jean for several minutes while on the phone.  Whether Jean would have survived with prompt first aid is questionable since he was shot twice in the chest, but an officer is trained to go from defensive mode to rendering aid immediately, in order to save a person's life, whether or not the person is a criminal offender, and even if that person had just moments before tried to shoot the officer.  That is what a cop is expected to do.

Regardless of what Amber Guyger did or did not do that night, she was responsible for a man's death, in what was clearly unjustifiable shooting, and she was rightly charged with murder.  It was no surprise that she was found guilty.  The real surprise to me is that she was sentenced to only ten years for that murder.  To many people, this sentence (as at least one person said) was "a slap in the face" to the victim and his family.  Others, many of then black, were happy that a white cop was held accountable for shooting an unarmed black man.  While I personally doubt that this incident was racially motivated, others think race played a big part in Officer Guyger's decision to use deadly force rather than less-than-lethal force, or even retreat to a safer area and call for help.  That is a debate that will go on for some time and may never be resolved.

There is one factor that has been overlooked by the media, or at least mostly ignored, and that is whether or not fatigue played a part in Ms. Guyger's mistaken belief that she was in her apartment, and in her decision not to call for help, in violation of standard police practice.  Would she have resorted to less-than-lethal measures if she had been thinking more clearly?  Would this terrible tragedy have happened at all if Ms. Guyger has not worked so many consecutive 12-hour shifts?  If the City of Dallas either required or encouraged Ms. Guyger to work so many hours, does the city government share some responsibility in this tragedy?  I suspect lawyers for the Jean family will pursue this angle in future litigation with the City of Dallas.

Amber Guyger made poor decisions and killed an innocent man.  Regardless of all the speculation, all of the "what ifs," Ms. Guyger committed murder and must pay the price, in this case, ten years in prison.  She received a much more lenient sentence than that which she meted out to Botham Jean.  But what a touching, inspirational moment it was when Botham's brother, Brandt, hugged Ms. Guyger and told her that he forgave her.  No one wants to go to prison, especially not a former police officer, but at least Ms. Guyger's heart can be somewhat lighter, her burden somewhat easier to bear, knowing that Botham Jean's family is able to forgive her.  And, light sentence or not, Ms. Guyger will no doubt relive this scene over and over, throughout her sentence, and probably for the remainder of her life.

May God bless this family that lost their son and brother, and may God also bless and protect Amber Guyger as she faces what may be a cop's worst nightmare, confinement in prison with hundreds of others who hate policemen.

End of Watch: Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal, Harris County Sheriff's Office, October 27, 2019

On Friday, September 27, Harris County Sheriff's Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal was shot and killed during a traffic stop that afternoon.  Deputy Dhaliwal was a ten-year veteran with Harris County and was the first Sihk to be hired by the Sheriff's Office.  He leaves behind his wife and three children, as well as his fellow officers with Harris County.

Deputy Dhaliwal had stopped a traffic violator, later found to be a wanted parole violator.  According to officials, there was nothing in the initial contact which indicated the shooter was being uncooperative.  As the deputy returned to his patrol car, the shooter left his own car, ran up behind the officer, and fired into the back of Deputy Dhaliwal's head.  The shooter drove away, but was later apprehended by a lone deputy who confronted the shooter face-to-face.  As usual in this situation, the shooter "meekly surrendered," not wanting to be hurt himself.

As a former police officer, I am aware of a couple of "danger points" in a police officer's career.  These danger points are well-documented.  Obviously the first year is one of the most dangerous for the new officer.  Another danger peak is around the fifth year, when an officer, particularly an officer who has experienced several dangerous events while on duty, may become over confident and cut corners on officer safety.  Finally, there is a documented tendency for officers with ten years or more experience to at times relax somewhat during potentially dangerous situations.

One thing that is difficult for many to understand is that a traffic stop is one of the most dangerous tasks a police officer performs.  A police officer never really knows who he or she is stopping, what that person may have just done, what others in the car may be wanted for, or whether the driver or someone else in the car is waiting for an opportunity to kill the officer, for whatever reason.  Just as in Deputy Dhaliwal's encounter, the "mere traffic law violator" turned out to be a wanted felon.  But for reasons known only to Deputy Dhaliwal, he turned his back on the shooter and began walking toward his patrol car.  This a mistake many an officer has made (myself included) but occasionally an officer pays for this mistake with his life.

This does not relieve the animal who did the shooting from his responsibility for murdering the officer.  Who knows why a criminal chooses to kill an officer to temporarily escape apprehension, when the criminal knows that he will be arrested only hours, or even minutes, after he murders the officer.  But this scenario plays itself out over and over across the United States each year.  A criminal murders an officer because the criminal does not want to go to jail, but then surrenders only a short time later without hurting anyone.  I will never understand this reasoning.

I am honored to lift up Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal and thank him for his service.  I pray the the Good Shepherd holds this family in His arms, and also comforts the many officers who have lost a brother in blue.

May God bless that Thin Blue Line up yonder, one officer stronger now.

At Home In The Townhouse

Today is September 18, 2019, a Tuesday.  I am sitting on my double-lounger in my new living room.  My lovely bride and I have considered ourselves (potential) nomads for many years, and we did move a few times, to be sure.  But during the past couple of years or so, things have happened that have cemented us to this area, at least for the foreseeable future.  With the birth of our first grandchild, then my lovely bride’s new career, then the birth of a second grandchild, it became obvious that we were HERE.  I began searching for a home closer to my wife’s work location and closer to the grandchildren as well.

During the middle of August we found a townhome that we fell in love with immediately.  I was surprised that I would find a townhome appealing in any way, but this one just felt like home as soon as we walked in.  My lovely bride felt the same.  We made an offer on this home, and finally closed on September 4^th.   After closing the deal, we started moving in, just a few boxes at a time.  Then my lovely bride declared that it was time to “move in.” 

We spent our first “official” night in the townhouse on September 12^th, having moved everything except the large furniture.  We were buying new appliances for the home so that helped lighten the load.  But for the first few days we really roughed it, having no washer or dryer in the house, or even a refrigerator.  But all the roughing was smoothed by being so close to the grandchildren.  They could now visit us almost every day, instead of the nearly hour round trip from the dojo in Odessa to our old house in Midland, then the same trip when it was time to take the babies home.  Another advantage, for an oldster like myself, there is basically no yardwork.  The front is maintained by the homeowner’s association contractor.  The patio is maintained by me and my rocking chair.

Then came the day it was time to move the BIG STUFF…the double lounger and the sleeper sofa.  This was a lot of backbreaking, heavy work.  Fortunately, I missed all that.  I was safely at work.  Child A, Child B, and Child B’s husband did the heavy stuff.  When I arrived home, my beloved lounger was in place, and I didn’t have to do anything except sit down, lay back, and offer my gratitude to those who did the real work.

Not to worry.  I was not spared totally from the pain.  I had moved several truckloads of boxes over the past few days, both loading and unloading.  And I helped with the painting (yes, the house had to be painted – the new paint throughout the house was all the wrong colors, according to my lovely bride).  My wife has a great eye for detail, and a great imagination, thus she was able to visualize what the townhouse would look like with various new colors, wallpaper, back splash (?), tile, rugs, etc.  Now, just these few days later the townhouse would not be recognizable to the previous owner.  And we are not roughing it quite as much.  We now have a washer and dryer, and the Internet!  We are  really living!  The fridge is still a few days away, and a new dining table will arrive after that.  We are almost back in civilization!

My lovely bride and I have been truly blessed.  We have beautiful children, beautiful grandchildren, and now this beautiful townhouse.  In the process, Child A gained a “new home” as well, that is, his parents no longer live in his home.  I am sure he is pretty excited about that.  But he has promised to dine with us at least one evening per week.  As much as he likes his mother’s cooking, I suspect we will see him more often. 

God is good.

Midland/Odessa Mass Shooting

Another mass shooting.  Another mass shooting in TEXAS.  Another mass shooting in WEST TEXAS.  Just a few weeks ago in El Paso.  Not to mention all the other ones that taken place across the nation in the past few months.

Just a couple of days after the El Paso mass shooting, I was talking with a co-worker who told me that she was now afraid to go ANYWHERE.  Then she said, almost prophetically, "it could even happen here (Midland, TX)."  This lady went on to say that she was worried about her grandchildren every time they left the house, afraid to go to the mall, to any public event, and even to church.  I know that many other people feel the same way.  If I go out in public, will I walk into the gun sight of some angry sniper?  Can the police protect me?  Will this be the last time I see my loved ones?  Do many people ask these questions every time they leave the house?

So this past Saturday I was at home playing with the grandchildren, enjoying the company of my lovely bride and my son.  I had just talked with my mom.  I told her how great a day we were having.  We talked awhile then said our good-byes and ended the conversation.  Minutes later, around 3:40 PM, I received a call from one of my employees who told me that the hospital was under general lock down and the disaster plan had been activated.  All hospital personnel who were not actually on duty were summoned for an emergency involving multiple casualties.  Even as I hurriedly dressed for work, the news app on my phone alerted me that a mass shooting was in progress and the active shooter had not yet been located by police.  In fact, the police at this point believed there could be two or more shooters.  I raced out the door to my vehicle.  As I drove into town I wondered if the shooter might be somewhere between me and the hospital.  And I also thought, it is finally happening here!  Another mass shooting, here in my own town!

Although I cannot publish here what went on at the hospital, those of us who were called in during the emergency remained for several hours. Finally, a news alert over my telephone stated that a shooter was dead, several people were injured, including three officers, and that at least five people were dead.  Soon the news service stated that twenty or more people were injured or dead.  Shortly after that announcement, all employees who had responded to the emergency were released to go on their way.  I, and my fellow workers, had no idea if any of our friends or relatives were numbered among the injured or dead. And the thought with me must have been with the others: It happened here...it happened in my town.

I drove slowly toward home, under the speed limit, deep in thought, and probably annoying someone behind me.  Another mass shooting.  Another mass shooting in Texas.  Another mass shooting in West Texas.  The sister cities, Midland and Odessa, were still praying for the people of El Paso, had only recently sent aid to the citizens there.  Now the same thing had happened here.  People were hurting.  People were dead.  And there was that nagging fear in my heart that, it happened here finally, but was it really over?  Did the police really catch the one and only shooter?  At one point it had been believed, at least by the public, that there could be more than one shooter.  Later, the Police Chief of Odessa put a rather practical spin on it when he said that, while it was possible there was more than one shooter, no one else was shot after THE suspect was killed by police.

Now, over twenty-four hours after this tragedy, the identity of the shooter was revealed by the police.  I refuse to place his name here, but will only refer to him as the shooter, although the Odessa Police Chief phrased it better when he called the shooter an animal.  As with the last couple of mass shooters, this shooter/animal, whatever his beliefs/problems were, chose to inflict pain on others rather than either seeking help for himself, or failing that, putting himself out of his own misery without inflicting death, pain, and terror on others.

Yesterday, shortly after this attack occurred, I saw posted on Facebook these words:

You have looked in no person's eyes today who was not a child of God.

I know that is true, but I have to wonder how a child of God becomes so misguided as to carry out the carnage brought to bear on the people of the Permian Basin yesterday.  The police have not revealed the shooter's suspected motive yet, and I don't really care what his motive was.  Will knowing his, the shooter's, motive somehow make this crime easier for the survivors, the bereaved loved ones, those whose relatives are in the hospital, to accept?  Will it bring "closure?"  No to both of those.  I am sure the motive will be pretty much the same as the other shooters' motives.  The shooter was angry about something, he had been mistreated as a child, he felt the government was oppressing him, or fill in the repetitive blank.  The fact is that another mass shooting/mass murder was committed.  I cannot fathom in my mind what it is that allows a person to feel he has the right to kill others because of his own misfortune, or even just because he is a barbaric brute.  And we never know when another shooter will repeat this act in another city.  It even happen in Midland or Odessa again.



PS: 

The quick action of the police, and calls of citizens along the shooter's route, helped keep the casualties from being even higher.


May the Good Shepherd comfort all those who are hurting because of this tragedy, may He walk along with those who lost loved ones, and may He carry those who are too weak to walk on their own in the coming days.. 

A "Haunted Hotel" and A Day At Sea World

It is now about 8:30 PM and I am tired, so is my lovely bride.  But we had a great day.  Let me back up to last night.

On Tuesday night our intention was to camp at Inks Lake.  That did not work out, and is another story, but the long/short is we drove from Enchanted Rock to our would-be camp at Inks Lake, and on to "Old San Antone."  Our new destination was the Holiday Inn Express - River Walk.  The drive from Inks Lake through Kingland and on to San Antonio was such a scenic drive.  Trees and brush, the Hill Country, the occasional grand lady of a house just barely visible from the road, those beautiful ladies built in another time, so solidly that they still here, many still occupied.  And of course, many deer standing beside the road, adding a little risk to the drive.

We reached the Holiday Inn Express just after 5:30 PM.  Having climbed Enchanted Rock just hours before reaching San Antonio (that too, is another story) we were TIRED!  That is exactly how my lovely bride said it...TIRED!  We had plans for finding a nice Mexican eatery on the River Walk, listening to strolling mariachis, sipping on some cooling, Jimmy Buffet-style refreshing drinks, and engaging in small talk.  Nope...nope...nope...we were TIRED!  Umm, hello, Dominoes?  Yes, please deliver to Holiday Inn Express - River Walk.  So we had pizza and cinnamon sticks for our first dinner in San Antone in several years.  We finished dinner, turned on the TV....and passed out.  I MEAN O-U-T.  Yes, we both had a good night's sleep, one of those nights that you do not see or hear ANYTHING until a certain, stupid grackle starts cackling outside the second-floor window sometime around 9:00.  But it was a refreshing morning after a good night's sleep.

But that was the problem - I got a GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP.  Now, why would anyone complain about getting a good night's sleep?  I will TELL you why.  My lovely bride had specifically selected this particular hotel because the building once served as the Bexar County jail.   This was from back before the turn of the 19th century to the mid- 1920s.  And like ANY good jail-turned hotel SHOULD BE, the Holiday Inn Express is HAUNTED!

Here is one link to the hotel's haunted history: https://ghostcitytours.com/san-antonio/haunted-places/haunted-hotels/holiday-inn-express/

So, I awoke this morning refreshed.  Nothing interrupted my blissful slumber, nor my lovely bride's.  I was really disappointed at not at least seeing a wisp of blue vapor float across the room.  But as I thought about it, maybe the ghosts DID try to wake me up!  I slept so well last night that Freddy Krueger  scraping his really long fingernails across my face could not have awakened me!  But, apparently Freddy did not visit because I did not have any long scratches across my face.  My lovely bride reported nothing out of the ordinary, for her part.

Having NOT been kept awake by ghosts all night, my lovely bride and I went to the Mercado to try to find a couple of items.  I found a nice hat to wear at Sea World, and my lovely bride found some things, too, including a dress for Baby Baby (our granddaughter) and some Mexican vanilla.  Then we went to a Mexican bakery and bought several excellent pastries.  I did not mind eating this rather unhealthy fare, because I knew we would walk it off at Sea World.

We arrived at Sea World around noon.  I had cleverly purchased "advance tickets" so that instead of standing in a long ticket line, we could just saunter right up to the gate, show our tickets, and slip on inside.  So, we were able to skip Zone A (the ticket booth), Zone B (I have no idea what that was), and waltz right up to Zone C, which was the entrance/metal detector line.  So we walk though the line, and toward the Beluga Whale show, when a young security officer says, "Sir, do you have a knife in your pocket?"  Well, as a matter of fact I DID have a pocket knife.  My lovely bride bought me a Swiss Army pocket knife at my last birthday.  I produced the knife and the young man (MUCH YOUNGER than my own son!!) said, "Oh, you can just take it back to your vehicle...or, we can confiscate it."  I have to complement myself here because I did not create scene at all.  I just nodded and turned away, with my lovely bride telling me she would be waiting when I got back.

I walked out the entrance, and realized that it was a good thing we had only parked a mile or so from the entrance, me not being willing to pay for "close in" parking, to which I could have "upgraded" when I purchased the tickets online.  As I contemplated the two-mile stroll to which I was committed (THEY were NOT GETTING MY KNIFE) and headed into the oblivion that was the Sea World NOT-close in parking, I heard a familiar voice.  My lovely bride wanted to Waltz Across Texas with me, out to the pickup.  I was glad though, as we talked about little things all the way, and all the way back.  By the way, here is free advice:  Park RIGHT UNDER A NUMBERED SIGN.  That way you can easily locate your vehicle, merely by walking back to the numbered sign.  Of course, you must REMEMBER the correct number, but that is where my lovely bride excels.

Once the dangerous weapon was secured, my lovely bride and I sauntered back the three-and-a-half miles to the starting gates, and once again, proceeded to Zone C.  This time there were no re-entry problems, and we were referred to the actual ticket takers.  Really, they SCAN the tickets these days.  I had cleverly stored our ticket on my "smart phone."  So the young lady (again, MUCH YOUNGER than my daughter!) scanned my phone.  Then she scanned it again.  Then she scanned it yet AGAIN!  Being very perceptive, I realized there was some problem.  Yes, the young lady said, my phone screen was TOO DARK to scan.  So apparently my smart phone is too dum to lighten the screen during ticket scannings.  So, we were sent to the "Resolution Desk."  Bear in mind, I had loaded the ticket into my phone so that there would be no delay in entering the park.

At the Resolution Desk, the young lady (same parenthetical comment as above) scanned my phone.  She then said, "These tickets will not scan."  Umm, nope, they will not.  So the young lady prints out the tickets, and my lovely bride and I saunter gaily back to the starting line.  The first young lady smiles and takes our newly printed tickets.  THEY WILL NOT SCAN!!  Back to the Resolution Desk.

I will say that the junior high-aged girl at the Resolution Desk immediately recognized the problem this second time around.  She said said sweetly, "Oh, these are ADVANCE TICKETS but you just purchased them last night."  I said that this was indeed the case.  She said, "But you can't use advance tickets until twenty-four hours AFTER you buy them."  Through the growing red fog building up in my head, I heard the young lady say, "But for only an extra five dollars each, you can use these passes today."  Her voice was soooo sweet.  Before I could respond, I heard my lovely bride say, "Yes, that is perfect."  She shelled out the ten dollars (plus eighty-two cents tax), and we FINALLY passed through those pearly...er, I mean silver, gates.  We were IN Sea World!!

The first thing we did was purchase two large Sea World drink cups, which allowed the holder to get 99-cent refills.  These cups turned out to be worth their weight in gold as the humidity began smothering us.  Be that as it may, we were so happy to be at Sea World, and I was happy that I still had my Swiss Army knife.  We went to the Beluga/Dolphin show, which was quite spectacular.  It is so amazing what they can teach the animals to do, and what the animals can teach the audience to do.  By the end of the show, perfectly normal, sane adults were waving their arms, throwing their hands over their shoulders, and doing many other things as well.  I am sure that, along with the fish the whales are given as treats, the whales are also thrilled by the things they can train a thousand strange humans to do in just thirty minutes!

After leaving Beluga Stadium, my lovely bride and I went to a nearby restaurant and had our noon meal.  We had barbecue ribs, a couple of "sides," and some watermelon.  It was really more food than we wanted, but good anyway.  After lunch, we made our way to Rio Loco, the giant water-tube ride.  My lovely bride was a little hesitant but soon we were seated in the giant tube with four other people, and were headed down Rio Loco.  It was a fun ride, but not dangerous in the least.  The best thing was that we all got completely drenched by a waterfall as we floated down the river.  It was great to be so cool once again.

After riding the Rio Loco, I talked my lovely bride into riding the Great White Shark roller coaster.  She thought hard about it, as she listened to screaming riders race past.  Finally she agreed to the ride.  Actually, she became rather excited about it.  Then I noticed there was not a waiting line.  Cool!  So we walked through the several empty stalls and found that only the people climbing on the roller coaster just now were ahead of us.  The ride lasted less than two minutes, and it was our turn.  My lovely bride and I strapped ourselves in.  The attendant checked our seats to be sure we were locked in, then it was time to go.  This ride is actually a roller coaster that has no body, only rows of seats suspended from the coaster track.  So we were strapped in and the ride began moving forward.

The roller coaster climbed slowly to the top of the first tower, then "clank" and we were rolling downhill.  Slow at first, but moving fifty miles per hour or so within the next few seconds.  I cannot begin to describe the twists and turns, except to say that the spine-crushing, bone-jarring maneuvers must be similar to the sensations felt by jet fighter pilots as the after-burner kicks in while the plane is twisting, turning, and diving.  After one last loop and twist, the Great White Shark comes to a screeching stop in just seconds, almost assuring that a visit to the chiropractor is in order ASAP.  I asked my lovely bride if she was alright, and to my surprise, she yelled, "Let's go AGAIN!"  I admit I was surprised.  It would not have been anymore surprising if the Devil was getting snow at that moment!  But, back we went!  And there was no waiting.

That second ride on the Great White Shark proved to be the last ride of the day.  We gathered ourselves and walked over the the Penguin exhibit.  This of course is inside a highly air conditioned building that is equipped with a moving sidewalk.  That's right.  A conveyor.  We stood and watched as the penguins drifted slowly by.  My lovely bride and I drank in the cool air, and revived ourselves.  We then went to the puffin exhibit and sat on the bench there for another twenty minutes or so.  At that point we were cooled off, and we figured we could walk back across Sea World, and then walk the four miles back to our pickup.  Along the way, though, my lovely bride found a shade and asked me to come pick her up when I got to the pickup.  I helped her sit down on a rock bench, then I started on the final two mile leg of the walk to our vehicle.  Soon I had my lovely bride in the truck and we were headed back to the (SUPPOSEDLY) haunted hotel.

It turns out I may have griped about the lack of ghosts too soon.  When we returned to our room and opened the door, the air conditioner was off.  We had left it on automatic earlier in the day.  So I adjusted the thermostat to 65 but nothing happened.  I waited a few minutes, then lowered the control to 59!  The machine still would not work.  So I have to believe that the ghosts, upset both because they could not wake me up last night AND because I had doubted their presence, "fixed" the air conditioning.  To back up this theory, the maintenance man arrived quickly but soon found that there was nothing "wrong" with the air conditioner.  He just shrugged his shoulders and said he would report the problem to the front desk.  A few minutes later we were offered, and accepted, another room.  One door down.  The air conditioning in the new room is working like a charm.  As I finish this, I will go to the front desk to collect an electric blanket.  And once again, I believe the ghosts will not bother me tonight.  IT IS TOO COLD IN HERE.

Tomorrow, we venture to Aquatica.  And to those looking for a haunted hotel, I can't recommend this one, unless the ghost of the air conditioner in Room 207 should choose to jam up the thermostat.