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The FReeper Foxhole - A Journal by Foxhole FRiend & Re-enactor Lee Heggy (3 of 3) - Sep. 30th, 2005
Lee's excellent adventures | Lee Heggy 123

Posted on 09/29/2005 10:54:21 PM PDT by snippy_about_it


Keep our Troops forever in Your care

Give them victory over the enemy...

Grant them a safe and swift return...

Bless those who mourn the lost.

FReepers from the Foxhole join in prayer
for all those serving their country at this time.

...................................................................................... ...........................................

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We're ready for a kick

The 'Skedaddle'

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.

As we sat under the shade of a copse of oak trees smoking our pipes and making small talk the Missouri Home Guard made their appearance. Marching in a file of twos between the rail fences lining the road up from their encampment, the brave and bully boys of the State of Missouri tramped by us. Their ranks had swelled since yesterday to about three hundred. Many of them were locals who wished to participate in the place of their ancestors. True to the spirit of the original battle most were carrying a shotgun or squirrel rifle although many had nothing more than a pitchfork or axe. Some had a club or a long pole with a butcher knife lashed to it. In ragged pants and blackened feet 'Cuppy' waved his baseball bat at us as he marched by. The old State Flag of Missouri was at the head of the column. A variation on the Southern 'Stars and Bars' it also bore the legend 'Live Free or Die' across the middle white bar. It struck me as a curious motto for a slave state.

They marched past us on up the hill behind some trees to form up their deployment. I could hear snatches of Col. Angus giving his boys one last rousing speech of encouragement and their answering cheers. We went to our gun and the Guards took up a line on either side of us that stretched for about two hundred yards. Up the road behind us was another six pounder manned by the 3rd Arkansas Lgt Arty. We are known as the 2nd Kansas Lgt Arty but in this event we were simply Missouri Home Guard. At this battle there was also what is termed a 'Quaker Cannon'. This is usually a false cannon made from the trunk of a tree and painted to look like the real thing at a distance to intimidate the enemy.. However, at Athens the Quaker gun was actually bored out. banded with iron and loaded with powder along with pieces of chain and old horseshoes. At the breech a touch hole was drilled to fire it off. This 'gun' was to the front of us off to the right.

The attacking forces of the Missouri Militia were behind rail fences two hundred yards in front of us. After the announcer on the PA explained to the assembled crowd what this battle was all about and who was who we waited about five more minutes and then the Arkansas gun behind us roared to life signaling the start. We jumped to and proceeded to load our piece and fired off three rounds in quick sucession. We waited to fire again until the Home Guard was safely beyond the reach of our blasts. A six pounder shoots out a tounge of flame and debris for over twenty yards along with much smoke. A fellow can get severely burned if they are too close to the muzzle flash. Often we set the grass and weeds on fire in front of us. A black powder cannon is impressive even at the distance of the spectators but up close it always startles me with its sheer violence and the concussive effects of detonation.

As the line of Guards came even with the quaker gun their crew touched it off. In the real battle the thing exploded killing the crew and sending the nearby infantry into a panic. They dropped their hoes and pitchforks and turned and started to run. In this re-creation it almost did so again sending up a huge cloud of smoke and firey sparks. Meanwhile the Militias with their better equipment and training were firing volleys into the ranks of the Home Guard scattering and dropping more than a few. At the exhortations of Col. Angus the ragged line of Guards closed the Militia then fixed bayonets and prepared for a charge. As they rose up yelling and hooting the Home Guard lost their nerve, broke and ran. Many fell or were taken prisoner. I got off three shots with my horse pistol and saw one militia fall as a result then I then turned tail and ran to catch up with my mates. After another few minutes of scattered fire it was over and we walked back to the main grounds to mix with the crowd and impress the kids. The whole thing lasted but a half an hour, only ten minutes shy of the real battle.

Carl and the guys got their instruments tuned up and began a strolling concert in the crowd. There were probably about a thousand or so people that turned out to watch Missourians kill Missourians. Carl doesn't solicit donations but people were very generous with tips and purchases of CDs. We finally ended up in one of the old houses that was being used by some female re-enactors as their home. They were sleeping outside like us since the bats and mice made sleeping inside the house impossible. Knitting and crocheting around an old table they were the picture of domesticity. We begged of their pleasure and with a nod of assent from the older matron of the group we pulled up benches across the room and serenaded the ladies for an hour while people filtered in and out looking at the ancient old home. It was quite nice in the cool of the big front room and they had a good supply of lemonade. Several of the ladies were very easy on the eyes. Indeed, they turned out later to be excellent dancers as well.

'Old times there are not forgotten...

It was getting on towards five o'clock and the spectators were beginning to dwindle. We excused ourselves from the ladies and wandered back towards the main area. On the way Carl, Dave and I decided to go down by the river and take a look at the remains of the old mill. Ed went on to satisfy his growling stomach with the Home Guards.

Down a shaded lane and across a low bridge we came to another home. This was the residence of the owner of the now vanished mill. It was also the house that a cannon ball went through. The hole is preserved and the interior is completly restored. A lovely old place. A huge porch on the north side with a beautiful view of the river below. We went through the house and looked at the old furniture and exhibits. A path led down to the remains of the mill. Judging by the size of the foundation stones it must have been a very impressive structure. Each block was at least three feet long by two foot high and equally thick. We sat down on a tumbled block and took in the view of the river.

Directly below us were two fishing boats out in the middle of the river. The men on board them were laughing and having a high old time. Carl winked at Dave and I. "Watch this." he said. Then he began playing 'Dueling Banjos' from the film Deliverance. Dave joined in on the ansering stanzas. Upon hearing this tune ringing out from the trees above them the fishermen got to their oars and quickly moved downstream and away from the unseen hillbillies in the forest. We all got a good laugh at that.

Then we walked back to the shelter house and had a meal of fried catfish, bluegill and cornbread with roasted corn, fresh peas, carrots and new potatos. All was provided by the Park Service. The Amish bakers generously laid out blueberry and peach pies with dishes of butter. Along with coffee, iced tea and lemonade there was a supply of home-brewed beer and ale materializing from the Home Guards in big earthenware crocks that had been wrapped with burlap stuffed with ice. This was kept out of sight behind some trees. Delicious and refreshing after the days activities in the bush.

After this wonderful repast the tables were moved to the ends of the shelter house and the boys got ready for the dance. Col. Angus was designated to be the 'caller' since he always does such a great job of making these things fun and very entertaining. He also knows the moves of the various reels, promenades and waltzes. He gives a demonstration of these beforehand to the unininitiated so no one is embarrased by ignorance and all can have fun.

An hour later after 'freshening up' with a nice cool dip in the river we changed into our 'courting clothes' and refilled flasks with the Cluney, The Des Moines River is clear, all sandy bottom and only about three to four feet deep with big flat rocks in places to avoid getting dirty upon stepping out. It's a fairly wonderous feeling of freedom to strip to ones underdrawers and wade out into a big slow moving river. Upstream of us there was a large group of giggling women doing the same thing in their pantaloons and loose frock bathing outfits. The ladies were just arriving when Carl and the boys started tuning up.

They opened up with a couple of old ballads and then switched into a 'Grand March'. Ladies on one side, men on the other. The dance is arranged so that the men all get a turn escorting each woman down the line. Turning and bowing or courtseying to one another in unison. This old timey dancing is sort of like square dance but it's much more polite, formal and not nearly so frenzied as the modern counterpart. They played a waltz or two then some polkas. Much swirling of hoop skirts and girlish laughter accompanied. It gets my old heart thumping having a pretty girl in my arms dancing a reel, flushed and smiling at me with sparkling eyes, gloved hands holding on for dear life as the room spins.

My favorite partner was one of the girls that we played for at the old house that afternoon. Her name is Josetta and she's from St. Louis. In real life she makes a living as a seamstress for people needing authentic hand stitched dresses and such. A very pretty wisp of a girl with skin like cream. Oval shaped face with big brown eyes and a very well educated mind. A delightful companion..unfortunately I suspect I'm old enough to be her father.

They played and we danced on until after nine o'clock. Josetta grasped my hand and with a courtsey and a slight peck on the cheek was gone leaving the scent of vanilla wafting around my head.

Then there was one more 'event'.

'I says Mr. Bones...'

The rumor had spread that there was to be some 'special' entertainment. They were not to be disappointed.

Carl and his musical friends have been performing authentic 1850s minstrel style music for about five years now. The old songs in and of themselves are not too familiar anymore to anyone but, they formed the basis of what was known as 'Minstrelsy'. The shows that are associated with and predated vaudville. To play those old songs is one thing but to actually perform the sketches that went along with them is quite another. It takes a great sense of timing and melodramatic comedy to bring those old corny jokes to life and make folks laugh. They worked hard on putting the 'show' together and tonight would be their debute as 'The Missouri Melodions'.

After the dance they went and prepaired. Put on their outlandish costumes, wigs and props then corked their faces black and applied clown white around lips and sometimes eyes. I was going to photograph the performance so I didn't gear up.

The show was going to be down in the woods at the far end of the Home Guard encampment. Three large fires lit the performance area. Several hundred people gathered in the darkness for the event. The guys were all in readiness and awaiting their introduction. After they were announced they came out of a tent one at a time doing what was called 'the cake walk'. Called thus, the term is related to the old saying 'He takes the cake!' by reason of being the most outrageous of the quartet. Exaggerated movement and gestures are performed by each as they take their places on stumps and barrels.'Mr. Tambo' with the tamborine and drum sits to the left next to 'Mr. Banjar' who is next to 'Mr. Gitfiddle' followed finally by 'Mr. Bones'. If I take part I give a crazy sermon and benediction at the conclusion.

The crowd in the dark was laughing and enjoying the sight immensely. I can't relate the entire program but they avoided using the 'N' word and most often turned the jokes around so as to be making fun of white folk. The material followed the old scripts with Mr. Bones posing a 'conumdrum to the others such as, 'I says Mr. Tambo, why is the sun like a loave of bread?' Mr. Tambo looks puzzled and then Mr. Bones replies, 'Cause it rises in the yeast!' and so on... It was a ribald and comedic show that I'm sure surprized most of the audience. Looking around at the audience I saw several with their mouths agape.

'Who wuz that I saw you perambulatin around the deck on The Bayou Sarah with yesterday?'

'Why that wuz none other than my feancy Miss Arrowmintha Peachblossom for sho.'

'Well if she ever opened her mouth I reckon she could swallow all da machinery and de paddle too.'

I took a lot of pictures and recorded a couple of wave files to my camera. The audience loved the show and asked for three encores.

I understand that there are several other groups doing this as well back east and down south but it's not advertised and is strictly for the other re-enactors fun. Sentrys are posted around the camp to deny access to the uninvited or hostile.

Next another night under the stars...

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Night of shooting stars

Carl and the others decided to sleep with the Home Guards that night. I had no desire to spend another night on the hard ground. Up until a day ago I was still aching from the experience of Friday night.

Realizing my frailty Carl had thoughtfully put an inflatable mattress in the bed of the pickup for me to sleep upon should I desire to. I did.

After the show in the woods I made my way back up to the parking area and lowering the tailgate crawled onto the bed, spread my blanket and laid down. The sky was spectacular. It's been a long time since I've seen so many stars. The Milky Way was like a ribbon of light across the heavens. I didn't even see any aircraft. Then, as I lay there feeling as though I could fall right into the sky a meteor shot across the heavens. Blue-green and glorious. Then another and another. I remembered that the Persied Shower was due that weekend and as I watched, literally dozens of streaking meteors lit up the night. Some going from horizon to horizon, others were cris-crossing in their paths. I thought of my dear sister who had passed away unexpectedly on July 12th and as a especially bright golden colored shooting star filled my watering eyes I said to myself, 'That one is Donna.'

I fell asleep and had wonderful dreams until awoken by the sensation of something on my face. Carls truck must be a sexual attractant for grand-daddy longlegs cause there were dozens of them all over me and the truck. Fortunately there was a can of repllant in the cab and they soon went away.

Meanwhile Carl was having his hat eaten by a deer that was attracted by the salt in the sweatband. I drifted back off to sleep dancing with Josetta.

A Sunday in the park

Sunday morning broke cool and clear with a ground fog about half as thick as that of the previous morning. I pulled on my shoes and slid out of the truck pausing to spread my wool blanket so the dew on it would evaporate. I grabbed my water bottle and toothbrush, (wooden with hog bristles of course) and a little packet of salt mixed with tooth powder, then picked my way through the nearby brush to perform my morning ablutions.

I went to the civilian encampment and stoked up a fire and fixed myself a meal of fried salt pork, eggs and potatos on bread. As I was finishing this up and cleaning my utensils Carl and the rest came up the road. He showed me his tattered hat and cursed 'Bambi' for the damage done. He also said that a gang of feral pigs had held a night long meeting in the corn field. Making sleeping difficult with their snorts and squealing arguments. I told him about the meteor shower. How pleasant a night I'd had in the truck bed and thanked him for his thoughtfulness. I gave him a slice of bread and some of the fried pork along with an egg and then made some coffee in the double boiler. This did some good in lightening Carls mood.

I then walked around the grounds sipping my coffee while taking a few more pictures of the battlefield and the old buildings in the early morning light. Josetta and her friends were brushing out and braiding each others hair when I got to the old house. I wished them a 'good morning ladies' and they inquired if I would accompany them to the Sunday church service. Usually I don't attend those things but the opportunity of spending some time with Josetta as well as demonstrating a virtuous bit of character seemed the proper as well as advantagous thing to do. I asked them at what time the service was to be held and they informed me that it would be at ten o'clock. I told them I would be happy to attend with them and excused myself to return in suitable attire.

When I got back to the truck I put on what I thought would be a proper Sunday outfit. Not much different from the courting rig of last night but more somber with black trowsers, matching vest and long black frock coat. White high collared shirt and cravat. I put a blue bonnet flower in my lapel and went to meet the ladies. On the way my mates saw me and as they squatted or simply sat in the dirt around their smoky campfire. They asked me, 'Who died?'. I told them of my mission and then they started teasing me about how my attending church was nothing more than a hopeless gesture from an old sinner that the Devil wouldn't even want. Then I mentioned that I would be doing so with Josetta and her friends. They suddenly understood my reasoning. 'Thats one really beautiful gal.' said Dave and the others nodded in agreement. Then with a snort he added, 'I guess she likes hanging out with grandpa.' I took this in with good humor and replied that they were a bunch of envious old married men and I didn't blame them for preferring to sleep with each other on the ground out in the woods rather than with their wives. I then dusted myself off and departed for the women's house.

The service was held at the shelter house and conducted by a self-appointed 'Reverend James' of our enemy, The Holmes Brigade. They are from the Lexington-Kansas City area and while they were our 'enemy' at this event usually we are on the same side and are longtime friends.

Rev. James is a stout, somewhat portly man who has a fondness for public speaking. His style of preaching is that of softly spoken passages of scripture punctuated with thunderous pronouncements of damnation awaiting each member of the flock. I don't much care for it but I was committed now and steeled myself to endure.

I met the ladies walking towards the shelter house. They looked very attractive in their Summer dresses, flowered bonnets and sun parasols. Smiling sweetly Josetta took my arm and we proceeded. As we walked I told her how pretty they all looked, especially her. She patted my arm and whispered that I need not be so formal and to call her 'Josie'. We arrived and took our seats among the other two dozen or so attendees.

The service started with a hymn and a prayer then another hymn and finally the predictable fire and brimstone sermon. After throwing the required fear of God into us we were assured that God was merciful and would only torture us for a few thousand years at best. Then came The Lords Prayer and a chorus or two of 'Amazing Grace'. This was followed by a soldiers prayer and the service concluded with a benediction relating some sort of parabel about big possums in little trees and ugly ducklings turning into swans, etc.

We then departed for our camps to awaited the time for that days event. I spent a pleasant hour conversing with Josie about our respective occupations, our families, our pasts and what we wished for the future. We agreed to meet again before we left for home. Once again, a squeeze of my hand and a kiss on the cheek. I've been widowed now for two and a half years and involvment with women hasn't exactly been a priority but this little woman was getting to me. She might be not much more than half my age and we may never see each other again but if there is a possibility that my old heart could hold that of another again I'm game if she is. At least I know the ropes.

Life is good and 'church' didn't hurt me one bit!

High noon

After parting with Josie I went back to the truck and changed into my battle clothing. Todays crowd promised to be bigger than yesterdays. A long line of SUVs and pickups full of kids and parents was pouring into the lots around the battlefield.

I went to the camp and found the guys playing music for some kids and their parents. Sat down on a stump and listened, occassionally joining in on choruses taking a nip of the Cluney from Carls flask when no one was looking. I figured that having a drink or two after church wasn't nearly as much of a sin as shooting at someone on Sunday even if it is only play acting.

Carl or Dave had somehow got or stole a whole chicken and were roasting it on a spit over the fire. There was rice in the boiler and corn roasting on the coals. After an hour of roasting and basting the chicken was pronounced done and put on a big enameled platter for carving along with the rice and corn. They had also traded or bought a jug of home brew to drink. A tub of butter and several loaves of bread completed the meal. The chicken was done to a turn and very tender. We devoured everything in minutes then went over to where the Amish were making ice cream and had some for fifty cents a bowl. They were using real cream and fresh ground vanilla beans. It's just about the best stuff ever to give you a headache for a minute or two. Josie and her friends walked up. I bought them all bowls of ice cream as well. We sat down together around a picnic table and made 'oohs' and 'aahs' while we ate it up. Josie put her foot on mine, glanced at me and smiling lowered her eyes to the ice cream and continued eating.

The time for todays battle was to be at two o'clock so we had another hour to get prepped. Dave insisted we go to the gun and drill.

The last battle event

The senario for today was almost the same as yesterday except we were going to stretch it out by fifteen minutes and get captured. We practiced our drill and after thirty minutes of it Dave pronounced us ready. Today I was going to be #1 and Ed would be at my position of the day before. We rotate on the gun so that each of us knows the others job and can continue in the event of one of us getting 'killed'. It often happens at these event that prior to the battle slips are drawn from a hat and you are either 'killed', 'wounded' or 'missing in action'. At Athens it was pretty cut and dried so the drawing of slips was eliminated.

This time when the action started we managed to get off five rounds before we were overun and captured. Dave decided to get killed rather than captured so he died bravely yet foolishly trying to escape after surrendering. The rest of us were marched off with the others to the holding area for prisoners. Once there we were put through a mock interrogation and either took the loyalty oath and parolled or were bound over for prison. Thus ended the Battle of Athens.

We went and broke camp, changed into our normal clothes and packed our gear up. Then we went to the gun and with much effort got it aboard the trailer and stowed the implements. Dave and Ed still in their battle clothes bid us good-bye and left. Carl and I walked back to his truck and got in. I told Carl I needed to go see Josie before we left. He rolled his eyes and said 'OK'. I went to their house and we exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addys along with mailing addresses. She looked so different in blue jeans and a sweatshirt but the smile was still the same. I turned to go and looking back she held out her arms . This time I got a real kiss and a real hug. She was like holding a sparrow. I could feel her breathing and heartbeat. Her friends were all watching, pointing and smiling at us. She promised we'd see each other this Fall at Lexington or Fort Scott at Christmas. She's called me several times since then. I'm just a lucky old man I guess.

Carl had driven up to where I was and had seen the whole thing too. His only response was to pass me the flask and map. Then we hit the road.

The road back

We headed due southwest into the heart of the 'Little Dixie' country. This area which lies mostly north of the Missouri River from St. Louis to St. Joseph in the west was once the agricultural engine of Missouri. Large hemp, cotton and tobacco plantations with grand columned houses once lined the river along its entire length. The naturally pro-southern population was said to be more 'Dixie than Dixie'. Many of the little towns have names like Richmond and Savannah. This was the area we were going to travel back through. Our first stop was in Glasgow. A river town of senic beauty situated on the river. It was the scene of several battles and was occupied by both sides often during the war. It still enjoys a brisk economy and is also home to the oldest drug store/soda fountain west of the Mississippi. The downtown streets are cobbled with river pavers and lined with beautiful old buildings that say much about the history of the place. The quiet side streets are home to broad lawns and fine old antebellum houses set back among old oaks with carriage paths winding to them. A lovely old town with friendly folks who will proudly invite you in to see their wounderful homes. We stayed there long enough to have a banana split, a real fountain coke and get some gas. then we moved on east towards KC.

Through dusty little half forgotten towns and villages we drove. stopping only for the unusual and usually closed attraction along the way. We crossed the river briefly to find the place where the fierce bushwacker 'Bloody Bill Anderson' was killed. Its near the town of Orrick on the side of a hill leading to a draw down to the river. A small marker on the highway pointing to a stile over a fence said 'Cemetary'. We got out and made our way over the fence and up the hill following a rude path. Near the top in a meadow was a bronze marker that listed Bloody Bill along with others who were ambushed there and killed. He was buried in Richmond after having his head shoved onto a pike and placed outside the town. He was buried in the old Mormon cemetary since he was deemed unfit for Christian burial. It was unmarked for years but now has a marker and flowers left by unknown admirers appear on the headstone periodically.

We crossed back over the river and continued to Keteysville the home of Confederate General Sterling Price. Its now a shabby little town with not much to reccommend it other than the statue of the General in front of the crumbling Victorian courthouse.

Then we hit Lexington and I paid a visit to my oldest cousin. Her name is Virginia. Shes the daughter of my Aunt Minnie whom I dearly loved. Tiny little fiesty woman with more energy than I. She had us in to her 1880s era house and I related what we'd been doing and other family news since I'd last seen her in June at the family reunion down in Metz. She invited us to stay in her home anytime we were in town. Carl played her a couple of tunes and she rocked and laughed at the old songs. Old Zip Coon' is one of her favorites. We then left there and without anymore stops made it back to KC by seven o'clock. I unloaded and after making some plans to get together Carl left.

Now all I had to deal with was laundry and cleaning up after my two little whirling dervish dogs so happy to see me that they lost their bladders.

That concludes the Athens trip.

Hope ya'll enjoyed reading my scribbles!

Click here for a link to Part 1 and Here for Part 2, in case you missed any.

1 posted on 09/29/2005 10:54:26 PM PDT by snippy_about_it
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To: Allen H; Colonial Warrior; texianyankee; vox_PL; Bigturbowski; ruoflaw; Bombardier; Steelerfan; ...

To The FReeper Foxhole

It's Friday. Good Morning Everyone.

If you want to be added to our ping list, let us know.

2 posted on 09/29/2005 10:57:09 PM PDT by snippy_about_it (Fall in --> The FReeper Foxhole. America's History. America's Soul.)
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To: Lee Heggy123

I've been anxiously awaiting part 3. Of course that's because I got to read ahead. LOL.

I love the comment about your 2 "whirling dervish dogs". I have 1 whirling dervish dog. LOL.

And what is the news with Josetta? Any updates since you wrote this?

And another thing. You look mighty nice in your Sunday git up!

3 posted on 09/29/2005 11:00:08 PM PDT by snippy_about_it (Fall in --> The FReeper Foxhole. America's History. America's Soul.)
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To: snippy_about_it

Turning the calendar over to October, time to announce this year's Christmas mailing dates.

Everyone is encouraged to beat the last- minute rush and bring holiday mail and packages to the nearest US Post Office, Army/Air Force Post Office (APO), or Navy/Marine Corps Fleet Post Office (FPO) by the recommended dates listed below.

For military mail addressed TO APO and FPO addresses, the last available mailing dates to ensure delivery are:
Parcel Post - November 12
Space Available - November 26
Parcel Airlift - December 3
Priority Mail, First Class cards and letters - Mailing date is December 10, to all locations, except for locations starting with ZIP 093. For all locations starting with ZIP 093 the mailing date is December 5.
Express Mail - December 19 to locations where Express Mail service is available. Check with your local post office to determine which APO/FPO addresses can receive Express Mail. Note: This service is not available to ships.

For military mail FROM APO and FPO addresses, the mailing dates are:
Space Available - November 18
Parcel Airlift - December 2
Priority Mail, First Class cards and letters - December 9
Express Mail - December 21 from APO/FPO addresses where Express Mail can be accepted. Check with your local military post office to determine if they can accept Express Mail. Note: This service is not available from ships.

4 posted on 09/30/2005 12:07:47 AM PDT by StayAt HomeMother
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To: snippy_about_it

Some " what are they doing now" News.

Shane Osborn Runs For Nebraska State Treasurer (EP-3E Pilot of Chinese F-8 Midair fame)

5 posted on 09/30/2005 2:08:02 AM PDT by quietolong
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To: snippy_about_it

Good morning, Snippy and everyone at the Freeper Foxhole.

6 posted on 09/30/2005 3:03:00 AM PDT by E.G.C.
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To: snippy_about_it; bentfeather; Samwise; Peanut Gallery; Wneighbor
Good morning ladies. Flag-o-Gram.

"Pfc. Ronnie Borden of 528th Engineering Battalion, Louisiana National Guard, removes a tattered American flag from debris caused by Hurricane Rita in Cameron, La., on Wednesday."

7 posted on 09/30/2005 3:35:20 AM PDT by Professional Engineer (See my book, "Percussive Maintenance For Dummies")
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To: Professional Engineer; snippy_about_it; SAMWolf; Wneighbor; alfa6; All

Good morning everyone!

8 posted on 09/30/2005 3:42:04 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
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To: snippy_about_it

Good morning Snippy, Sam and every one.

9 posted on 09/30/2005 3:47:25 AM PDT by GailA (Glory be to GOD and his only son Jesus.)
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To: bentfeather

TGIF! Only two working days until Monday!

Hi miss Feather.

10 posted on 09/30/2005 4:15:49 AM PDT by Professional Engineer (See my book, "Percussive Maintenance For Dummies")
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To: Professional Engineer

Morning PE! What's Bittygirl's latest caper??

11 posted on 09/30/2005 4:22:33 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather

She not only can unlock doors, she's learned to open them.

12 posted on 09/30/2005 4:24:02 AM PDT by Professional Engineer (See my book, "Percussive Maintenance For Dummies")
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To: bentfeather

She not only can unlock doors, she's learned to open them.

13 posted on 09/30/2005 4:24:02 AM PDT by Professional Engineer (See my book, "Percussive Maintenance For Dummies")
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To: Professional Engineer

Oh my gosh!! LOL Always keep your keys with you!

14 posted on 09/30/2005 4:25:14 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
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To: All

Thought of the Day

Spanish nun, mystic and reformer St. Theresa said,
"Whenever conscience commands anything, there is
only one thing to fear, and that is fear."

Today is Friday, Sept. 30, the 273rd day of 2005 with 92 to follow. The moon is waning.
The morning stars are Mars and Saturn.
The evening stars are Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus, Neptune,
Venus and Pluto.

15 posted on 09/30/2005 4:29:06 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
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To: bentfeather

The morning stars are Mars and Saturn.
The evening stars are Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus, Neptune,
Venus and Pluto.

Ah, you must be listening to Holst. ;-)

16 posted on 09/30/2005 5:11:11 AM PDT by Professional Engineer (See my book, "Percussive Maintenance For Dummies")
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To: snippy_about_it; SAMWolf; All

September 30, 2005

A Great Mystery

Luke 16:19-31

We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord. —2 Corinthians 5:8

Bible In One Year: Esther 1-3

cover Many people love mysteries. It's exciting to put ourselves in the shoes of a detective and try to figure out "whodunit" as we turn the pages of a mystery novel. But there's a cliffhanger that we'll never resolve—until we experience it ourselves.

Those of us who have watched in sadness as someone close to us has died may wonder about their new existence. Our hearts ache to know what they are doing or where they are. If they had trusted Jesus Christ as Savior, we know they are in heaven. But, for now, a veil separates us from our loved ones and we cannot see behind it.

We do have a few clues about this mystery, though. We know that our departed loved ones are enjoying God's presence (2 Corinthians 5:8). We also know that they are recognizable and conscious of their surroundings—just like the rich man and the beggar Jesus spoke of in Luke 16:22-23. And we know that they haven't yet received the perfect body that will be theirs when Christ returns (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17).

Beyond that, we are left with this truth: God, in His matchless love and power, is planning a glorious reunion. Then, our eternal rejoicing will begin. The last page of this great mystery has a happy ending. —Dave Branon

The Lord has promised to prepare
A place in heaven above—
A home where we will always be
With Him and those we love. —Sper

God's people never say goodbye for the last time.

How Can I Live With My Loss?

17 posted on 09/30/2005 5:12:00 AM PDT by The Mayor ( Pray as if everything depends on God; work as if everything depends on you.)
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To: snippy_about_it

050925-N-0413R-043 Indian Ocean (Sept. 25, 2005) – The Indian aircraft carrier CVH Viraat (R 22) underway in the Indian Ocean as part of exercise Malabar 2005. The exercise is designed to increase interoperability between the two navies while enhancing the cooperative security relationship between India and the United States. The at-sea exercise includes maritime interdiction, surface events, sub-surface, air events and personnel exchanges. U.S. Navy photo by Photographer’s Mate 3rd Class Shannon E. Renfroe (RELEASED)

050927-N-3312P-001 Norfolk, Va. (Sept. 27, 2005) - The Los Angeles-class fast attack submarine USS Scranton (SSN 756) returns to Naval Station Norfolk after a regularly scheduled deployment. Scranton deployed in support of the Kearsarge Expeditionary Strike Group (ESG), participating in two joint/multi-national exercises. U.S. Navy photo by Chief Journalist Mark O. Piggott (RELEASED)

050925-N-2838C-004 Mediterranean Sea (Sept. 25, 2005) - Four F-14D Tomcats prepare to enter the "break" prior to landing aboard the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN 71) during flight operations in the Mediterranean Sea. Roosevelt and embarked Carrier Air Wing Eight (CVW-8) are currently underway on a regularly scheduled deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism. U.S. Navy photo by Photographer's Mate 3rd Class Michael D. Cole (RELEASED)

18 posted on 09/30/2005 5:24:27 AM PDT by Excuse_My_Bellicosity ( "Sic semper tyrannis." (Your dinosaur is ill.))
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To: snippy_about_it

Josie and I have been in contact every other day or so since we met at Athens. She was hoping to be able to join me at Fort Scott over Labor Day weekend but her work load was simply too great. We have plans to be together at Christmas and portray a domestic couple living at Fort Scott for the Candlelight Ghost Tour that is conducted every year. Its one of my favorite events. After darkness falls groups of people are led by guides with candle lanterns around the various places in the fort and vignettes are acted out by the volunteers. These little scenes are recreations of actual events. We take the names of the real people and do it all in 1st person. Special attention is given to making no eye contact with the visitors. We are ghosts. There is also a big dance and Christmas banquet. Its like someting out of a Charles Dickens novel. Josie is very excited about it. She also told me that she just turned 30 and the difference in our ages just means I've been 'road tested'. I may go to St. Louis to visit her around Thanksgiving. She is making me some new shirts and a coat.

19 posted on 09/30/2005 7:01:53 AM PDT by Leg Olam ("There is no Hell. There is only France." F. Zappa)
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To: Lee Heggy; snippy_about_it

The best "scribbles" I've read in quite a while.

Again, thanks for sharing them with us and thanks Snippy for all the work you did putting this series together.

20 posted on 09/30/2005 7:19:52 AM PDT by SAMWolf (Red ship crashes into blue ship - sailors marooned .... Film at 11.)
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