Lyrics to Duke the Spook

Duke the Spook

The night is calm – the sky is clear,
A perfect set-up for a bombardier.
Motors roar with an angry spark
The big B-24’s on their marks;
From the ground with shrieks and wails,
A ghostly figure hits the ether trails,
A mascot, in a high hat and tails.
Meet the gallant swell – “Duke the Spook”,
Charming as all hell – “Duke the Spook”.
With flowery phrase on his lips
He’ll annihilate those Nips
when his killing smile greets the foe.
Death is done in style, don’t you know?
Class will win and they’ll give in;
You’ll shake the hand that shook Berlin
Oh, “Duke the Spook!”

Duke the Spook

I have been in touch with two wonderful gentlemen from Charleston, SC who are collaborating to write a book on the old WWII Charleston Army Air Base. That was my father's last stop. Of course this caught my interest and the last two months have been like Christmas.

Darrell Parker is the one who loves to do research went to the Charleston library archives and found the original newspaper clipping about my father's plane crash. The article had the home addresses of all the crew. Well 64 years later chances are very slim that I will find any remaining family members, but it's something I have to check out. I learned that there were many B-24 crashes out of and around Charleston. Sometimes there was nothing in the newspapers because the government did not want to alarm citizens. I also learned that there were many German POWs in Charleston and they were on road building and brush clearing work crews. They had no place to go--ocean or swamp. The history I'm learning is fascinating to me!

George Miller has sent me two manila envelopes full of photos, history of the base and memorabilia photos. The second arrived Friday--included were the insignia, Duke the Spook which was the men's logo for the 400th Bombardment Group. Now I have another piece of information about my father. At first when I saw Duke, I shuddered. Then I realized, this was a WAR. The men knew their chances as pilots of B-24's were not good. D Day had started but the skies were heavily covered in Europe. My father and his crew would have been on their way if not for the fatal crash. So these brave men aced it with a macabre sense of humor to us. Yet they looked at death and made it classy. Duke the Spook was a popular song sung by Bing Crosby and dedicated to the men of the 400th Bombardment Group. It was written my Jimmy Van Heusen. I have never heard it but I'll now be searching.

One of my favorite tunes that I sung as a kid and still think about is Bing's "Swingin' on a Star."
Providential that now I have another Bing tune in my life?

Now I look at Duke and appreciate him for his significance, for his bravery in the face of death--dancing to meet fate with a silk top hat! I am so indebted to these two men. Can't wait to get to Charleston to meet in person--but Darrell warned me to stay away in summer or I would hate them all. Last Saturday he called--it was 98 degrees and 93 percent humidity! Not my kind of weather.

Memorial Day 2008 (5-26-08)

Today is the end of this long weekend trip to northern MN where we stayed in Bemidji at the Royal Oaks RV Park. In what we heard is very abnormal for this area there are many camp/RV spots open. The $$ of gas has affected RVrs and others who are staying home. We made this trip to see a new area of the state, to us. This is where MN earned the name of land of 10,000 lakes as there are more lakes than I've ever seen one after another.

This is RV, resorts, cabins and camping and fishing area. Home of the Chippewa , Crow and Ojibwe Indian tribes. Besides casinos, these Indians have many industries--bottling water, raising and selling wild rice, moccasins, etc. And their own license plates--these plates which I first spotted at Wal Mart are not MN but each sovereign tribe has their own plate. Have never seen that anywhere else in the country.

By the way, Bemidji has the busiest WalMart we've seen anywhere in the country. The mainstay of the town besides the huge statues of Paul Bunyan and Babe the blue ox at the visitor center, is the Univ. of Bemidji. All brick buildings--many many dormitories. Not sure but think the primary academic is geology, natural sciences, and other similar outdoor scienes. Oh Bemidji is also home of curling---guess they need to amuse themselves during the long harsh winters here.
Saturday we went to the headwaters of the Mississippi River at Itasca State Park. I did not take off my shoes to walk across the rocks there as I thought I would. Call me a coward, but it was too cold with still the melting snow keeping the water icy--those who did the walk on the rocks barefooted were kids and 20 somethings. Another time when the water is not so high or cold! Lake Itasca has a fascinating visitors center full of history of the area and the tribes and the fur trapping and the French Indian wars of the 1700's. Many buildings of this park were built by the CCC in the 1930's making us wonder why we can't do such a thing today to put people to work--but then flash---back then those who didn't work didn't eat. Today the courts will say "ah no that's servitude or slavery" "Must not." Yet another lost American value becomes clear with reflection on history and seeing this visible monument to such efforts. In one exhibit two men now in their 80's wrote of being part of the CCC in 1936 where for the first time they got three meals a day, all they could eat, and a pair of boots-which came in one size. Large. One man said he will never forget those boots.

Itasca has a large drive around which is one way traffic so that we enjoyed all the sights from the truck seat. I saw hundreds of ladyslippers in bloom. This is the first time I've seen the MN state flower in bloom.

But primarily we cme north to attend the ceremony held today in Akeley,MN at the VFW Post where Kathy Swanson, AWON, and her mother received the last of her father's medals from WWII. Senator Norm Coleman presented these, the Akeley VFW, which seems to be the hot spot in this tiny town, went all out. The Legion came from Walker,MN slightly bigger but tiny. Coleman messed up the presentation by saying Kathy's father died August 17, 1949--then covered saying that was his own birthday! I don't think he ever said 1944. Kathy's father died the day she was born August 17, 1944. Cpl. Ed Newsome was a medic and wounded in the Pacific. He was to be sent back to the states but died in the hospital; his diary indicates bombs were dropping. His grave is memorialized in the Phillippines. Kathy never knew that her stepfather was not her biological father until she went to get her birth certificate at age 16. Then her mother told her Johnson name was not her name! That began her search and journey which finally led to today's ceremony. She found her father's family in Texas and has met those still alive. She has also seen her father memorialized in Texas in his hometown monument. She and her husband are very active in their VFW and have the display wall with service branch and brief life stories of each member. Bob Swanson created this using the WWII memorial model. They intend to sell out and become full time RVers. We will see them next in Tucson.

Weather turned cold today. Could have used some of the woolen sweaters from the Bemidji Woolen Mill which I did not buy when we visited it Friday!

On our way here we stopped at Camping World in Rogers MN where I got my tricycle at last!!I have pedaled it around this RV park but will prefer concrete at home. It has 3 speeds and handbrake as well as pedal brake--a nice big basket on the back where I can carry stuff. They had just gotten 2 in on the truck and assembled it. While we intended to stop on our way home, with only two I didn't want to take a chance on missing out--have had my eye out for one since I first saw it in CA in November at the Camping World in Rocklin.

We head home tomorrow. This has been a restful trip--maybe too much so. Yesterday I sat over three hours working the Wall Street Journal's crossword on the computer; no way to save it so I kept guessing away. My butt wnt to sleep!

Spring has arrived

Great weather here the last 2 days--70 degrees! Whee! And we can just watch all the grass grow--it seems by the hour. How quickly the flies appear--will the mosquitoes be far behind? Looks like two or three rosebushes did not make it through the winter. So will be replacing those.

This month, I bought the wildest pair of shoes I've bought in a long time. The are nearly 3 inch heels, look great with jeans; I'll wear them now and then but certainly not when I'll be on my feet for long periods of time. These are fun party shoes, which fit the saying--If you wear a great pair of shoes, no one will notice the size of your tush! Jerry is not as amused and says things like "stay away from wherever the working girls hang out." He's always considered himself a comedian about my shoes. Years back in CA he commented about another pair--"How far did you have to chase that pimp to take those shoes off him?" Maybe if we had not had such a long hard winter, I would not have been as tempted with these shoes, but had to have them and their Betty Boop peep toes!

I really embarrassed myself on April 5. Karaoke at the La Crosse, Legion. I chose "I Hope You Dance" and the sounds that came out of my mouth were not from this world. Wow, I've never sounded that bad. So I have been giving the voice a work out by singing more around the house. I talked to a friend who had the same awful experience at Karaoke that same night--so we think there was a Karaoke Demon o the loose. This Demon tried to get us both from ever stepping up to the mikes again, but we shall overcome. We'll try again--next time, I'll stop when the K DJ plays the song too slow or low for me. Anyway since I so embarrassed myownself, Jerry thinks he's off the hook for future song fests--not so.

American Deaths in IRAQ

Today's big media news is that 4,000 Americans have been killed in Iraq. Well let me preface my "so" "and what else" by reminding you of my patriotism. I know the cost of war. Along with over 180,000 other Americans I lost my father in World War II.

But 4,000 killed? Over five years? Come On People. How many are killed in automobile accidents annually in this country? How many junkies die of overdoses annually in this country? How many Americans were killed by terrorists in New York City on fatal 9-11?

I do not shrug off the death of anyone of our brave military serving in Iraq. But we need to put this into perspective. How many of them might have died here in this country on the road or in another kind of accident?

Their families are compensated. No, life can't be bought but neither can freedom be cheaply defended. The media would twist all this to have us believe the war is a failure, even though the surge is working. The media call it Bush's War. The liberal media hate our President and I believe they hate our way of life. They are about their own liberal agenda.

Did you know that until three years ago, the "death gratuity", a tax-free sum paid directly by the government, was $12,420 for military death? In addition, service members had a group life insurance policy for $250,000 with the government paying the premiums.

In 2005, Congress increased those amounts to $100,000 and $400,000 respectively, retroactive to 2001. So, if a service member dies in the line of duty today, his survivors get half a million dollars. Hmm. Do local/state governments insure their fire fighters or police officers for similar amounts?

Note that "dies in the line of duty" does not mean "is killed in combat". In the military context, it simply means that the member was on active duty or on authorized leave and did not cause his own death through willful misconduct. If a soldier dies in a snowmobiling accident on his day off, his family gets the full amount.

In 1962-68, the death gratuity was six months' base salary and the insurance policy was $10,000...it's gone up quite a bit. When my father's plane and crew disappeared in 1944 it was $10,000 period! So the government has generously increased this death benefit.

Our military are doing what they are paid to do---defend us.

What a difference a day makes

Yesterday, March 20, first official day of spring, the snow was nearly all melted. A week ago I saw the first robin on our back deck and yesterday we saw several robins in the front hunting for worms. No worms out yet, the evening temperatures still freeze and those crawlies stay snug far underground.

I walked the neighbor's dog with my jacket open and thought that at last this terrible winter would end and it would be spring. Easter is Sunday and I don't ever remember having Easter in the snow growing up in PA.

Yesterday I decided to get out some of my Easter bunny decorations and lighten up the living and dining room for Easter. The last few days we were out in the motor home, readying it for a short trip next weekend to Albert Lea for one of the Republican endorsing conventions to which I'm a delegate. It will be good dry run getting ready for our trip and reunion in Pella, IA end of April.

The weather forecasters predicted a snow but we hoped it would just pass us by or not stick and melt as quickly as it came down. Not so.

Woke up this morning to a blanket of white and still more tumbling white feathers from the sky. Phooey! By this time, I was sure the angels were done combing the dandruff from their hair! Enough with the white stuff!

So again today it's back to Jerry shoveling/snow blowing. Well it was his idea to move here to what has been the tundra winter; he's paid plenty penance. He says its all exercise, but I think if he were honest he'd admit he's seen enough white for awhile.

I suited and booted up to walk out into the white fluff to snap some photos to contrast how it all changed between yesterday and today. Spring tried to poke through but Jack Winter isn't done with us yet. What a difference between yesterday and today. My winter rose garden awaits spring.

Animal people

For the first time in our lives, after moving to MN we are without domestic animals, pets. Jerry is vehement that we not get any dogs or cats so that we can come and go when we want to. Besides we live in the city limits now, not like Newcastle, Ca where the animals had over 6 acres to roam free. Living in the "city" means a leash law and no loose animals.

Well every once in a while I peruse the want ads and think, maybe we should get some animal--a small poodle, a schnauzer, a Siamese cat--something that I could talk to. But as quickly as I mention it, Jerry puts his foot down again.

We have always had animals. Sometimes we had two or three head of dog; once along with the dogs, our circus included two Siamese cats and a cockatiel bird. I wanted such a bird after meeting one that a friend had which talked and was so adorable. George, the bird, was named for King George because we got him on Independence Day 1977. (Photo of George sitting on my arm 1977 above) He was a misnomer as after 4 years he went into a terrible molt. I didn't know what it was then, but he had hardly any feathers left and I thought he must surely be dying. What to do with a bird? Off to the bird doctor which took some searching and a referral of our veterinarian who did horses, goats, farm animals of all kinds, dogs and cats but not birds. As I recall, I packed George into a portable cage and drove about 40 minutes away, to somewhere in Carmichael.

The bird doctor took one look and said, "she is molting." Huh? She? turns out George had a "deferred hormonal system" which took 4 years to shake loose. And immediately following that she developed a deep psychological yearning to mate and was sexually frustrated. So She had pulled out all her feathers. This was according to the bird vet. I did not want to mate George. I learned that though George was amusing, sat on my shoulder and liked to fly around the house, the upkeep on a bird is tremendous. Seeds flew everywhere near the cage requiring daily vacuuming. Daily cage changes too due to other droppings. So the vet said, my other option was to administer thyroid medication to George and hope for the best.

This was a new challenge to animal husbandry for me--crush the thyroid pill in a teaspoon of water and pour down the bird's throat. Not at all as easy as it might sound. But somehow I persevered without wringing George's neck. By the way, the male cockatiel has the Bright orange/yellow spots on the cheeks. George had the great color so we never once thought he was a she. The vet explained that "it happens in the animal world, one sex is mistaken for another and so on." As we lived in CA this did not even surprise me--I worked around all kinds of people.

Well after several months George had restored herself and was back to looking colorful. But she developed a very strange habit of sitting on the bottom of her cage and swaying. Again, we watched this for several days; she was eating, but acting strange. I thought she was heavily constipated as she wasn't eating much and wasn't dirtying up the cage with droppings. Even odder, George refused to come out of her cage, screeching and pecking at me like she never did whenever I opened her door to let her out. Another phone call to the bird vet who said "she is likely trying to lay eggs but she will not be able to because she is sterile." Nobody told George who acted like this for about a week. One day we came home from work and there were two eggs in her cage. Only George wanted nothing to do with them. We removed the eggs and George went back to her normal self.

Only after her hormonal resurgence and her sex change she never did try talking again, no more "pretty bird." George shrieked so loud that we heard her a mile away outside out in the orchard. We had George for nearly 10 years. People told us that they didn't live but seven years max. No one told George.

We had two Siamese cats who ruled the house during the same time, Roscoe (male) and Mimi (female). We would come home and find Roscoe lying spread eagle across the top of the bird cage--one paw in the cage trolling. He never got to George. Roscoe trolled while George protested the intrusion by hiss, peck and nip at the troller.

George' demise came suddenly without warning. I felt responsible because at the time I was singing with a woman's chorus. I had the lead vocal parts and was working hard on the high ranges and soprano notes. George would screech with me. That Saturday I did not hear George singing along. He hit the higher notes easier than I did. One look into the cage revealed a peaceful George, on the floor. We buried George out in the back by the big oak trees and the swing, a park like area overlooking the hills. I've never since wanted another bird; one was all it took.

I remember my grandparents in PA had canaries. I always thought they were pretty. My grand pap had been a coal miner and raised canaries for the miners. My grandmother enjoyed the chirping. Grandpap was devoted to canaries because they advised miners of oxygen or bad air in the mines. My uncle told me that my grandfather, Teofil Kochanowski, was always crazy for animals and would go out of his way to get dogs, birds, whatever. I know he always had hunting dogs and Boston Terriers when I was growing up. He would cut their tails off--I always cried about that. I don't think Grandpap ever took a dog to the vet.

Uncle Carl told me that once when they were growing Grandpap brought a ground hog into the house and went to bed. I believe he came in late and had been out with some of the guys drinking "N Piwo" and possibly won this ground hog in a card game. The story goes that my grandmother arose bright and early the next morning, just like normal, came into her kitchen and saw a ground hog and likely broomed it out the door in no time. My grandma, Baba, was an excellent housekeeper and would not have wanted a wild animal in her house. When Granpap awoke and came downstairs, no trace of the animal. He asked where his ground hog was and Baba just looked at him, like "what the heck are you talking about, Pap?" She never admitted to anything and so Grandpap didn't confront her further. Uncle Carl said, that all he could say was, "no proof that Rose did anything." He knew he didn't have a ground hog anymore and never again brought one into the house that anyone knew. But now I know that I have likely inherited my love of animals from Granpap. Even worse, my son, Steve has compounded love of animals. Today in CA Steve loves his dog, Bandit. I know we were animal people but I'd never thought that it was an inherited trait.

My most famous best dog pal of all time was my Great Dane, ACE whom I'll write more about later. He was the dog of all dogs, in his heyday weighing about 170 pounds and still preferring to be a lap dog. He did commercials for the local Newcastle rib house starting a trend at folks sharing their animals love of Spencer's Ribs.

Our first Siamese cat, which found Jerry and became our famous Lady Godiva is another entertaining tale. When Jerry called and said, "Do we want a cat?" I said, "Sure but what about the dogs?" He replied, "Oh this cat will take care of herself." And she did claiming the house as her territory from the day she arrived. It turns out that she was in heat; this was likely the reason she had gotten out. Or someone had tossed her out. There is no earthly sound like a Siamese cat in heat! We lived in a two story home with high ceilings--she raced up and down the stairs, clawing the carpets, drapes and screaming. We took her to the vet, because I was sure she was sick. The car ride with her was absolute torture. The vet explained that she would soon pass through this but would be in perpetual heat unless she were fixed. We did not want to hear those screechy wails, so we had her fixed and peace was restored to Fair Oaks.

Lady Godiva became famous, featured in columns in the former Sacramento Union newspaper. She was a self taught toilet user. I accused Steve, our son, of neglecting to flush the toilet. I could not understand his behavior because he was about 9 at the time. "But Mom I do flush" This went on for several weeks until one day I was home alone, just me and Lady Godiva. I will never forget being at the counter between our kitchen and den and hearing a trickling noise in the bathroom off the den. I walked there and there sat Lady Godiva on the toilet. Indignant as only a Siamese can be! She looked at me as if to say, "Look I allow you your privacy, might you respect mine?" I could not wait for Jerry to get home to hear about this! We don't know how or why she figured it out. But she never did learn to flush! We never had to have those nasty cat boxes around!

Friends awaited the chance to witness this. She indignantly allowed people to observe her at toilet--all the while keeping her long Siamese tail up in the air over her head. She was quite the Siamese. When we moved her to Newcastle she transitioned to going out side too and became quite the huntress. Before that she had been a strictly an inside cat. It was a sad day when she layed down and gave it up after about 12 years. We buried her out in the backyard too.

We've enjoyed many animals as part of our family over the years and I will write more later. But for now after babysitting and walking Abby, my neighbor's old lab dog for a week while she went to FL, I am in complete agreement with Jerry. No more animals in the Morrison house.

For those who voted Democrat in 2006

America Asked for Change In 2006

A little over one year ago:
1) Consumer confidence stood at a 2 1/2 year high;
2) Regular gasoline sold for $2.19 a gallon;
3) The unemployment rate was 4.5%.

Since voting in a Democratic Congress in 2006 we have seen:

1) Consumer confidence plummet;
2) The cost of regular gasoline soar to over $3 a gallon;
3) Unemployment is up to 5% (a 10% increase);
4) American households have seen $2.3 trillion in equity value evaporate (stock and mutual fund losses);
5) Americans have seen their home equity drop by $1.2 trillion dollars;
6) 1% of American homes are in foreclosure.
7) The Democratic controlled Congress' approval rating has tanked to 11% by the American People, down from 31% two years ago before they took control and below the President's rating but the media do not report that do they?


America voted for change in 2006, and we got it! Of course, it’s always easier to blame the president, right