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Posted on 09/27/2005 10:28:13 PM PDT by snippy_about_it
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 are acknowledged, affirmed and commemorated.
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| Our Mission: The FReeper Foxhole is dedicated to Veterans of our Nation's military forces and to others who are affected in their relationships with Veterans. In the FReeper Foxhole, Veterans or their family members should feel free to address their specific circumstances or whatever issues concern them in an atmosphere of peace, understanding, brotherhood and support. The FReeper Foxhole hopes to share with it's readers an open forum where we can learn about and discuss military history, military news and other topics of concern or interest to our readers be they Veteran's, Current Duty or anyone interested in what we have to offer. If the Foxhole makes someone appreciate, even a little, what others have sacrificed for us, then it has accomplished one of it's missions. We hope the Foxhole in some small way helps us to remember and honor those who came before us.
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 Aug 15, 2005 The Athens Event. Note: This wonderful journal shared with us from Lee Heggy will be covered over a three day period. Please read and enjoy as Lee travels to Athens Missouri for one of his many re-enacting engagements. Thank you so much Lee for being part of our Foxhole family and sharing your tales with us.
There is re-enacting and then there is something different. The public part of what goes on at these events is usually quite straight-forward. It is meant to be fun and educational, as well as profitable for the local historical societies and the various vendors and crafters. The public watches a recreation of an actual event that may last an hour or two. They have a few hotdogs buy a rag rug or something from a crafter then get in their air-conditioned automobiles and go home. The participants in the event are there for as long as three or four days and they stay in character living in the 19th century. In that respect this little deal wasn't out of the ordinary, but I get ahead of myself... Carl, the red-haired, mutton-chopped banjo player of our group picked me up on Friday morning and we set off for Athens, Missouri. We coursed north of the Missouri River taking state highways through little towns and enjoying the glorious country all around. The day was cool and clear. Whenever we saw something of interest or that had the possibility of being interesting, we would stop and take a look. America has become a gigantic yard sale in the rural places that were once more densely populated. I've noticed over the last few years that many of the old farmsteads are now uninhabited or that the folks who live on the land have abandoned the old farmhouse in favor of a doublewide. With the cost of repair to an old structure, I can certainly understand the issue of having the modern comfort of an economical substitute over the old drafty and leaky house from 1910 or older. Still though it's kind of sad to see the old places falling down to ruin sitting next to a shiny new metal barn building and prefab home of no distinct character. I grew up in a stone house that had been built by hand to last a hundred years, and it almost did. I have great empathy for these old places where people lived, loved, struggled and died for generations. We drove for about six hours and finally made it to Keokuk Iowa. There we provisioned ourselves with dried fruit, granola and other sundry items. We also looked for a place to have a drink and found this tiny little bar on a side street. The air conditioner above the door was dripping water on the threshold and the neon Coors light was flickering in the small dark window. "Perfect!" exclaimed Carl as he hopped out of his truck. After being baptized at the door, we entered. Until my eyes adjusted, all I could see was an expanse of dark shiny bar surface and the glimmer of a jukebox off to the left. We pulled out a couple of ancient bar stools and sat down waiting for the bar tendress to notice us. She was busy talking about her dyspepsia or something to an elderly gent in overhauls, sporting a John Deere cap that looked as though it had been dipped in 30-weight oil. She straightened up, turned to us and inquired as to what we wished - all the time flashing a grin that revealed her distrust of dentistry and her fondness for liberally applied fire engine red lipstick. I told her, "Well Paula, we'd like to have a drink or two." (I knew her name since it was emblazoned across her more than ample bosom in script letters fashioned from those sparkly things that are applied with that stapling device that was popular several decades ago with the fashion challenged.) "Beer or something stronger?" I asked her if they had any scotch. She looked a bit puzzled and then took a flashlight and checked the stocks below the bar. "Is this th stuff?' she asked holding up a dusty bottle of Dewars. "Yep" I replied. She seemed relieved by that. Then she took a magic marker and marked the level on the bottle, sat it down in front of me and went to find a shot glass. I had a bottle of water with me so I didn't worry her with finding a second glass. With a deft flip of her wrist, she slid the glass down the bar stopping right in front of me. Running my finger on the rim I discovered a small chip so I turned it away from my lips. Giving her a questioning look she winked and said, "Hep yourself honey." Then she tended to Carl who just asked for a beer since he was driving. He also asked if there was a good place to get a bite to eat nearby. She said that there was burger places out on the highway and a Chinese place down on the main drag. Then she gestured towards the end of the bar. On a platter was a huge hunk of what could only have been government cheese surrounded with a pile of saltines. I've known Carl to eat almost anything, and he probably would have taken the dare, but on closer inspection he would have had to arm-wrestle the hulk wearing camos cutting chunks off and eating from his knife. It was a rather large knife at that. We hadn't even noticed him till now and his glances at us made me nervous. He could keep the cheese, thank you. I had a couple of shots and asked how much and she said, " Well, we don't sell much of that stuff you been having...I reckon three dollahs for that and a dollah-fifty fo the beer will do." With that we left a generous tip, and avoiding eye contact with the regulars, made our exit to the strains of Hank Snow singing "Daddy, Whats a Train?" On the way out I noticed they still had their Christmas decorations up and the tiny lights were on but most of them were burnt out. Once outside in the daylight I looked to see what the name of the joint was we had just been in. Inexpertly painted on the bricks above the leaking air conditioner was 'THE TEE PEE LOUNGE--OCCUPANCY 45'. My kind of bar.... Next. Kahoka Missouri and on to Athens... and 1861      |
Harumph! xoxoxo
!!!
Nice A-20. I like the drop tank!
Hi miss Feather
Welcome to the "Grand Canyon of Texas" !
An A-20 Havoc
A P2V-5 Neptune
And that ain't a drop tank it's a J34 jet engine :-)
Regards
alfa6 ;.}
Ah, a dogone Swabbie plane.
Thanks Sam. It was one important thing to bring to the Foxhole, current yet historic and fun reading. Wait til you read the rest.
Actually, I believe the zoomies had one squadron of P2Vs during the little escapade in Vietnam. Only they were called SP-2H by then and were used in conjunction with a program called Igloo White.
All of that is off the top of my head will try to get confirmation later as I am off for another 12 hours of frivolity and fun. at least it is the last nite for the next two weeks plus :-)
Regards
alfa6 ;>}
Can I be captured and detained by them?
Right after I get interrogated.
*Snivel lip quiver, teary eye look*
Can we at least get captured and detained at the same time?
All together now...AAAAHHHHHH
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