A Salute to Veterans Far & Wide, but Especially to the 11th Marines, Headquarters Battery

A Salute to Veterans Far & Wide, but Especially to the 11th Marines, Headquarters Battery, 1st Marine Division

Some years ago, we invested in a digital contraption which would convert 35 millimeter slides to digital images. In 1967, upon my arrival in beautiful southeast Asia, one of my first purchases at the Da Nang PX was a Cannon 35MM camera, to preserve what I hoped would be a once in once a life-time experience. So as we fast forward some 50-plus years, the result was revisiting places and people frozen in time during some very turbulent years….a nation divided, polarized and not so different from today, albeit as a result of different issues.

As I took that trip down memory lane, I saw images of people I hadn't thought about in years and I posted a couple of photos on my Facebook page from so long ago. The response was unexpected with some even requesting a story about my Vietnam experiences. So for the boys who served in the 11th Marines, Headquarters Battery, from February of 1967 thru March of 1968, this one's for you.

Just an average kid from Oklahoma, 22 years old, married and working as a communication's sales representative for Southwestern Bell in OKC. The military recruiting services were right across the street, in the American General Building, from our offices at 707 North Robinson. The recruiting services had been assigned to me for handling within Buck Weaver's long distance promotion sales group.

As the draft inched closer and closer, I started discussing options with my then clients. Since there was little hope that anyone in our family had the financial means or connections to buy my way into the National Guard, or any other escape route of the privileged, I started making a plan. I settled on the Marines for three foolish reasons and perhaps one good one; too many John Wayne movies, who I would discover later wasn't nearly as cavalier in a combat zone as he was on the screen, and wouldn't make a wart on Bob Hope's backside, they had a two year enlistment program and a ninety day delay before being inducted, and I kept telling myself, "maybe this will be over by then." ….I also just had some stupid mental block about being drafted.

Every Marine has a load of boot camp stories, but we'll save those for a bar-side chat at Mooney's sometime in the distant future. Let's fast forward past to where I had a complimentary "Cruise ship" experience in February of '67, along with 5,000 of my closest friends, as we crossed the Pacific on our way to Viet Nam, with intermediate stops in Hawaii and Guam. But no shore passes for us as we were held captive aboard the USS Gordon. And don't even waste your time asking if I'd like to go on a cruise anytime soon other than right here on Grand Lake.

When we arrived a few thousand meters off the coast of Vietnam, they loaded us in landing craft, just like the ones portrayed in Saving Private Ryan, to hit the beach. It seemed strange; carrying our sea bags, unarmed and met on shore by trucks taking us to our assigned units, which in some cases were many miles away…but mine was only a few miles west of Da Nang…. Hello 11th Marines, Headquarters Battery, First Marine Division, where I would spend a year of my young life.

My MOS, that be military occupational status for you non-vets, was in artillery. Fortunately, my math was better than most, so I was trained as a fire direction control center chart operator and surveyor, but the Marines were able to add field observer to that with little or no problem. I would spend approximately 75% of my time in country as an observer, not to be confused with forward observers which served with the infantry, from Observation Post Condor and Eagle to help with data required to fire on the VC positions when they were attacking the airbase at Da Nang. And accurate surveys were a big deal in an artillery outfit. Simply put, if the location of the gun positions are not precisely determined, the chances of a successful mission are at risk and the possibilities of friendly casualties becomes a real possibility. Wherever the artillery pieces were to be dispatched, the surveyors were there ahead of time to determine that precise location. So, when someone asked, "Grandpa, what did you do in Vietnam?" There's your answer.

Our survey section was made up of some great guys, from all over these United States, with a mean age much higher than most other sections. Most Marines were probably in the 18-20 age bracket, but several in our crew were in their mid-twenties, probably due to the draft and other factors. The Vietnam War was one of the few times on record the Marines had to utilize the draft. That in itself made us somewhat different than most units…at 22, I was one of the younger ones.

As I went through those images, I can't help but smile and remember more about the good times than the bad and the friends who made it bearable. OP Condor was a part of a Seabee Perimeter around a rock quarry that just happened to overlook Happy Valley. We utilized that location as an observation post and I lived there for every bit of six months. Memories include Sunday afternoon horseshoe contests with the Seabees, chewing the fat with my Seabee buddy R.I. Johnson, who hailed from none-other than Yale, Oklahoma and Don Lively from Grapevine, Texas, when it was nothing but a small, rural Texas town. 

New Year's Eve celebrations featuring vodka, which had been smuggled in all the way from the states in a hollowed out loaf of bread, obviously technology has changed a bit, Tang for an orange drink mixer with a terrible taste and using tracer rounds from a 60 caliber machine gun for fireworks, which the Seabee high command didn't appreciate much.

As my time of rotation started to approach in February of '68, intelligence reports started to surface about a VC and North Vietnamese offensive which might occur during the Tet New Year holiday. For most guys, I think the greatest fear was that of being wasted after completing almost a 13-month tour and I was no different. As the bullets associated with the Tet Offensive started to fly, I was definitely a short-timer, there were a few scary moments, but before long, I was headed to the Da Nang Airbase to catch a Continental flight back to the states. A civilian flight from a combat zone still seems strange to this day, but I did appreciate those good-looking round eyed stewardesses.

One of my cherished Vietnam memories occurred as that Continental flight hurtled down the runway and was quickly approaching air speed. As we lifted from that runway so far away, the captain keyed his mic for the following announcement: "Gentlemen, you have just departed from the Republic of South Vietnam!" The place went bonkers.

I've always said I'd just as soon be lucky as good and I certainly was. When I returned home, I was never disrespected because of my service in any way, shape or form. A few close calls, a little shrapnel in the backside, but not from the enemy, a scorpion sting and some life lessons, which have served me well, taught by the United States Marine Corps. 

I’ve read where less than 2% of our country’s population has served in any branch of the service…perhaps that’s the reason so many elected politicians give little thought to writing checks that are left to our military personnel to make good. In my opinion, there are a lot more fake leaders than fake journalist.

But on Veteran’s Day, which originally was intended to represent the end of the first great war at the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month, I’ll be remembering a group of guys that represented diversity in virtually every possible way, but who were trained to pull together in order to get the job done. So, here’s to you R.I. Johnson, Don Lively, Brownie, Oz, Harry and James K. Saucier from Mississippi, who we dubbed the Pope due to his bald head, I just wish we could all raise our glasses, one more time, to some perilous days gone by and salute vets past, present and future.

See Ya’ Around the Pond!!

 

Aviation's Role in Taking the DCFS to a Higher Altitude

Chapter 3

Historic Jet Trainer Steals the Show in 2010

From Grand Times on Grand Lake with Rusty Fleming

 Editor’s Note: When a streaking Korean era flight stole the show in Duck Creek some 15  years back, everyone wanted to know who that masked pilot was. It was Monkey Island’s Dr. John Swartz and he has been back many times in recent years. When the Air National Guard jets were grounded due to budget constraints, he and his son Corey definitely made their absence less devastating. Here’s the history we published on his very unusual hobby following that initial fly-by just like in the Tom Cruise movie.

 When organizers of the Duck Creek Fireworks Show added a flyover of F-16’s assigned to the Oklahoma Air National Guard, with a big assist from General Ronnie Turner, it was a huge addition, which many of the thousands gathered in Duck Creek looked forward to with every bit as much anticipation as the big show itself. When vintage World War II aircraft were added, with the distinct sound of those roaring engines and streamers of smoke, it got even better. But when a Lockheed T-33 jet trainer, piloted by Monkey Island resident and Joplin Cardiologist John Swartz, joined Grand Lake’s biggest party, the speed and close proximity of the in air maneuvers left the crowd spell bound and asking, “Who was that pilot from yester-year?”

The next day Joe Harwood’s phone was ringing, his e-mail was chiming and some even dropped by his office to inquire about this fabulous new addition to the show. But Harwood knew little more than what vintage plane organizer Paul Mackey had shared with him and released the following statement via e-mail and on the Arrowhead web site.“I have been barraged by questions about the stunning passes of the single silver jet at our air show.  It stole the show and our hearts.  The story is indeed a good one. 

John & Corey Swartz

The jet was a T-33 Air force jet trainer.  It belongs to Dr. Swartz, who resides on Monkey Island.  He attended the Air Force Academy.  He had the choice of going to medical school or fighter pilot school.  He chose medical school, but always wanted to fly the T-33 jet.  He has been working for the past few years to get his license.  The T-33 he was flying is the exact jet he would have trained in.  So, he has finally been able to realize both of his dreams.  Being a Dr. and a jet fighter pilot.  SALUTE!  And now....you know the rest of the STORY!  We sure enjoyed his passes over Duck Creek!”

Mackey had revealed some of the story to Harwood, but the rest of the story is every bit as unique as the appearance of this historic jet itself. Swartz, a Pennsylvania kid grew up with a dream shared by many youngsters during the early years of the United States space program; to become a pilot and eventually make his way to the astronaut program and be part of the space adventure reserved for American heroes like John Glenn, Buzz Aldrin and more. He was well on his way to chasing that dream, when life got complicated.

Swartz was preparing to graduate from the Air force Academy in 1977, but was faced with a dilemma few could imagine. His other passion in life was the study of medicine and he was about to complete his pre-med studies, with honors. He had already been accepted into medical school, but had also qualified to become an Air force fighter pilot. Those dreams of sorties, duals in the sky and the excitement of space adventure danced through his young mind. He was looking at a serious fork in the road following graduation.

He was also about to launch his married life with Carmel, his wife, mother of their three children and companion. Rumor has it Carmel perceived the future of a medical doctor to be a bit more secure than that of a pilot in harm’s way on an annual basis.

Each year as we look back at the success the show has enjoyed, there are always serious contributors who receive little credit. It's hard to overlook A&M Pyrotechnics, who will be shooting off the show for the 21st consecutive year for sure, but what about people like the South Grand Lake Regional Airport and Brent Howard, who sponsor fly-ins and an on the ground airshow with the Tulsa War Birds?  And who can overlook the GRDA and chief of the Lake Patrol Brian Edwards, who are not only a major donor to the show, but also handle on the water traffic control and emergency services. A lot of team players in this major event, but none more important than the donors who support the event year-after-year and made it possible to reach the highest foal ever of $160,000. Grand Lake history has always facinated me and this event has plenty.

See Ya' Around the Pond

The Money Man, the Music Man & a Standing Order from Captain Bill Bailey, USMC

 

Grand Times on Grand Lake with Rusty Fleming as we track the history of the Duck Creek Fireworks Show 

Over the past few weeks, we’ve wandered down the historic trail to the 2025 Duck Creek Fireworks Show scheduled for Friday night, July 4th. Our time machine has taken us back to the forties when a few feisty members of the Cherokee Yacht Club set off fireworks on the club’s lakeside lawn to celebrate our nation’s grandest of national holidays. We’ve also reviewed how a tragic fire and subsequent bankruptcy of that very club, while disastrous at the time, lead this Grand Lake tradition to the spectacular show of patriotism it has become today.

The original "Money-Man," Skip Teel 

 As Joe Harwood says annually at the Sparkplug Dinner, which this year hosted a full house at the Cherokee Yacht Club,  to raise funds for the show, “It’s not about the money, but it’s about the money.”

 He adds, “Without a doubt this is the largest publicly funded show in the entire country!”

 In the early years, Captain Bill Bailey, who practiced law in nearby Vinita, Oklahoma, would canvass area businesses to contribute to the show to celebrate our country’s freedom with the hope that $5000 could be raised for the event. In recent years, over $150,000.00 has been raised for the celebration from both private and corporate donations. The most significant event transitioning this Grand Lake spectacle from that meager beginning to what we enjoy today occurred in the early eighties.

 It had become obvious that unless someone stepped up to the plate, the show would not go on. Bill Bailey had decided young Joe Harwood was up to the task and made a house call on the usually stoic Mr. Harwood, but Joe wasn’t sure he wanted to take the project on. But the old South Pacific Marine Corps vet had prevailed and Harwood was off and running.

 Harwood fondly recalls, That was one great old man and he did live long enough to thank me for what we have turned the show into. If he would have been less humble and a little more self-serving, it would have gotten there a lot sooner. Bill just needed someone to tell the story he couldn’t.”

 But there’s a lot more to this story of how the show was jettisoned from its simple beginning to what it has become today and that more can be equated to money. Shortly after Harwood took command of the show, he made his first donor pitch to long-time Grand Laker Skip Teel. Skip’s first recollection of Grand Lake was that of weekend visits to his uncle’s place in Drowning Creek in the late forties, prior to his dad building a place in 1951.

 Skip calls Tulsa home and is a U.S. Airforce vet, who has been extremely active in the Tulsa community for years, is a board member of several Tulsa based community organizations, a graduate of T.U., active alum and supports the prevention of child abuse among other things.

 Skip recalls, “Joe approached me about helping preserve and elevate a show I had been enjoying since I was a child and continued to look forward to as a young adult and later on in life. I was the first $1000 donor to the show and I did that for multiple reasons, but mainly because I wanted to preserve and continue that celebration of our freedom for future generations. I wanted them to have the same experience which had meant so much to me.”

 Even though some health issues have limited his time at his safe haven, as he calls Grand Lake, he leaves little doubt about where he would like to be come Friday night when he says, “I’ll be on my boat in front of Arrowhead, between the gas dock and courtesy slips, like so many times before, if my health permits,  and it never gets old.”

 For an event like this extravaganza over Duck Creek celebrating our country’s independence, there is no static; either it’s getting better or it’s in decline. The addition of the flyover by the Oklahoma Air National Guard, the participation of the vintage warbirds, an occasional World War II B-17 bomber and even a cardiologist, Dr. John Swartz and his son Corey, flying Korean era T-5 trainer jets over Duck Creek has made the show better each and every year and there’s more on the way.

We don’t want to steal any thunder, but a special ending is in store and worthy of paying close attention to, but we can tell you about the new and improved plans for the music incorporated in to the show…enter the Music Man, Dunn Faires, who professes his love for music, but retired from Northeastern State University as the Associate Dean of the College of Business & Technology.

The plans for improving the show’s music, strangely enough, got its start during a road trip to the Cobalt Boat Factory in Neodesha, Kansas. Faires had taken along a friend, who was a vet. According to Faires, he introduced his friend to Joe Harwood during the bus trip and the conversation quickly turned from Cobalt Boats to the fireworks and its associated music. Faires pointed out that not all of the branches of the military were represented in the music used.

Faires recalls, “I offered to send a sound file to Joe containing an arrangement which included all five. I also pointed out that some of the largest and most successful shows in the country, like New York and Washington DC, used more patriotic and march themes.”

Joe liked what he heard and an ongoing dialogue was established to develop a custom sound track specifically dedicated to the Duck Creek Show. Over 700 numbers were reviewed and a final plan was developed.

Faires did this sizable volunteer undertaking because he’s been hanging around Grand Lake for nearly 20 years and loves the show. And his seat for the event isn’t bad either as he has owned a Spinnaker Point condo with a northerly exposure for the past many years. And as he points out, “That way I control those in attendance by invitation.”

There you have it….A Money Man, a Music Man and a Standing Order from a Real Patriot and Member in Good Standing of Our Country’s Greatest Generation! Now let’s celebrate the birth of our nation 249 years ago come Friday night, July 4^th.

See Ya’ Around the Pond!

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A Look Back at the Duck Creek Fireworks Show

 

Chapter One…W.W. Bill Bailey

 From Grand Times on Grand Lake with Rusty Fleming 

Note: Our blog will feature the colorful history of the Duck Creek Fireworks Show as we approach theFourth

Nobody celebrated the Fourth
like "King Cracker" and
yours truly

 The Duck Creek Fireworks Show is the absolute King of Traditions when it comes to the annual Grand Lake celebration of our country’s independence. At the conclusion of World War II, some of the best recognized names in this part of the state had recognized the potential of Grand Lake and purchased lakefront property. Names Like McMahon, Siegfried, Bendel, Welch and LaFortune to name a few.

They didn’t just show up and find a grand and glorious fireworks show in Duck Creek every Fourth of July. What started as a one family fireworks show to celebrate our country’s freedom quickly expanded into a multiple family event. Then the Cherokee Yacht Club was constructed in Duck Creek and many of these same families gravitated to and continued with their family fireworks celebration.

 One of the earliest accounts of the meager beginning to what has become one of the largest fireworks displays in the nation comes courtesy of former Cherokee Yacht Club owner Terry Frost. According to Frost, his friend Orville Cole was the Commodore of the yacht club in 1948 and shared his memories with Frost of those early days. Cole described the 1948 celebration as a few families shooting off fireworks in front of the club and recalls a water skier making a couple of passes up Duck Creek; on the first pass he had sparklers and on the second pass he was celebrating by shooting off a Roman Candle.

 Soon the club itself was spearheading the annual tradition and had assumed the lead role. But a catastrophic fire in the early eighties, followed by bankruptcy after the club’s reconstruction, put the tradition’s future in jeopardy. Since the late forties, the show had been a summertime staple on Grand Lake. It was literally on the pirate ship’s plank, awaiting execution or for Captain Morgan to appear and save the day.

 Can’t say that I recall how many years Joe Harwood has been the driving force behind raising funds for the Duck Creek Fireworks Show, perhaps he’s the real Captain Morgan, but I can damn sure remember the first show I took in. The year was 1976 and I was on Everett Williams’ pontoon boat captained by his son-in-law, Rue Morgan. Morgan was never the shy type, and he had positioned himself right in front of the old Cherokee Yacht Club’s docks…. I think there may have been ten or twelve slips at most.

 When the show started, the site was spectacular and so up close and personal that debris from the exploding shells were finding their way onto the deck of the old boat. The presentation above Duck Creek was far beyond anything this Oklahoma City boy had ever seen at Spring Lake or Wedgewood Amusement Parks. And the grand finale of the show was so close, I could almost touch it……The outline of the American flag in sparklers of red, white and blue….and there was some guy, who seemed to be in charge, shouting out orders to his crew on how to get it done.

 I learned later, the guy I had seen was W.W. Bill Bailey and it seems he knew a thing or two about being in charge. Bill was an officer in the United States Marine Corps, World War II vintage, and a bona fide member of Tom Brokaw’s proclaimed “Greatest Generation.” He had survived six first wave landings in the South Pacific as a captain commanding an infantry unit, fondly called grunts by Marines, former and present. He was shot up, decorated and following the war, returned to Vinita, Oklahoma and started his successful law practice.

 Bill was one of the ring leaders at The Cherokee Yacht Club, who incidentally instigated a fireworks show to commemorate the celebration of our independence come each Fourth of July. He was “The Duck Creek Fireworks Show.” He lit the fuses; he canvassed area businesses and Lakers for funds to purchase the ordinance and probably even cleaned up the mess on the club’s lawn the next morning, after recovering from a very special celebration the previous night. For Bill Bailey, it was just plain more than a fun time at the lake…. I suspect it was about the men he lost and his personal realization of what the price of freedom was all about.

 When The Cherokee Yacht Club burned down in, I think ’82, rebuilt and eventually ended up in bankruptcy, Captain Bailey wasn’t concerned about where he would get his fried chicken on Thursday nights while the club remained closed. Bailey was most concerned about preserving a Grand Lake tradition he had personally helped build.

 Having been a full-time resident of Grand Lake since 1981, I always knew Joe Harwood had stepped forward to salvage the show. Like you perhaps, at the time, I might have been grateful the show was going to go on, but deep down probably thought it was at least partially about putting butts in those yacht club seats come the Fourth of July.

 On special and significant occasions, Harwood has reached back into those memory cells from circa 1982 and shared just how persuasive councilor Bailey could be. It had become obvious that unless someone stepped up to the plate, the show would not go on. Bill Bailey had decided young Joe was up to the task and made a house call on the usually stoic Mr. Harwood, but Joe wasn’t sure he wanted to take the project on.

 He recalls thinking, “This is like free kittens at the grocery store” and asking Bailey, “Why would I want to do that?”

 Joe recalls how Bailey explained to him just how important an emblem of our Independence the Duck Creek celebration had become. He recounted his memories of those six first wave landings and shared with Joe the number of casualties his unit had suffered. He shared with him how he had spent six years away from home, fighting for his country, and he’d be damned if the show to celebrate what he had fought for wasn’t going to continue.

 Harwood recounts the event like it was yesterday when he says, “That conversation took place right here on the Arrowhead deck. And by the time Bill was done, I was ready to do anything he asked with respect to the show. And as they say the rest is history and we’ve gone from $5,000 and $10,000 shows to what we have today.

Harwood adds, “Bill remained very involved in the show and I recall asking him for advice on more than one occasion. One year, the forecast looked terrible and there was a threat of rain. I called Bill and asked him what I should do if it rains, to which he replied, ‘Hell boy, it isn’t going to rain…it’s the Fourth of July.’ And you know what? It didn’t.”

 In an e-mail exchange with Harwood a few years ago, he was a little more revealing about that conversation and recruiting visit from the Marine Captain Bill Bailey from so long ago and wrote, “In his very measured dressing down of my pompous, spoiled ass, he let me know he had left half of his original platoon in the south pacific. He never raised his voice or touched me. But it was the worst ass kicking I’ve ever received! I never forgot it and it did put a fire in me that has not gone out.”

 He went on to write, “That was one great old man, and he did live long enough to thank me for what we have turned the show into. If he had been less humble and a little more self-serving, it would have gotten there a lot sooner. Bill just needed someone to tell the story he couldn’t.”

 In the end, it has become obvious Bill Bailey’s Fireworks Show is about a lot more than putting butts in yacht club seats. There is a lot of raw emotion for a lot of different personal reasons and none bigger than the celebration of our country’s independence.

 If you don’t want a house call from Captain W.W. Bill Bailey ghost, I suggest dusting off that checkbook and doing your part to preserve Bill’s party. The sound of freedom, baby…. Let’s all chip in and celebrate the freedom we enjoy in the greatest country on earth.

 Next week: Chapter II – When the Sound of Freedom entered the creek it was a game changer!

 See Ya’Around the Pond!

 

 

Rusty Fleming

 

Mother's Day, Simple, Yet Complex for Yours Truly

The modern holiday of Mother's Day was first celebrated in 1908, when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother at St Andrew's Methodist Church in Grafton, West Virginia. St Andrew's Methodist Church now holds the International Mother's Day Shrine. Her campaign to make Mother's Day a recognized holiday in the United States began in 1905, the year her mother, Ann Reeves Jarvis, died.

Ann Jarvis had been a peace activist who cared for wounded soldiers on both sides of the American Civil War, and created Mother's Day Work Clubs to address public hralth issues. Anna Jarvis wanted to honor her mother by continuing the work she started and to set aside a day to honor all mothers because she believed a mother is "the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world".

As Paul Harvey would have proclaimed, “Now for the rest of the story!” I always knew I was an adopted child, along with my two siblings, but never thought much about having the privilege of two Mothers and boy do I owe them big time. My adopted Mother was a mother for the ages and raised me and nurtured me to the max, while serving as my defense attorney in matters of importance with my dad. But, without the sacrifices of my birth mother, there would have been no life to celebrate or life-long Grand Style party.

My adopted Mother passed away in 1999, but by 1996 she had been converted to a Grand Laker and resided on Chigger Street in Langley, Oklahoma. We shared a lot of great conversations in those last three years and no doubt when she was promoted to the here-after she knew I loved her to the moon and back. She never stopped encouraging me to seek out my birth mother.

It was never held back from those Fleming kids that all three were adopted. In my adolescent years it wasn’t something I wanted to be known. It kind of fell right up there with those homemade shirts my Mom would make. She sewed labels in those shirts so none of my teammates at Northwest Classen High School would discover I was wearing homemade clothing as we dressed and undressed in the locker room. In retrospect, I should have been wearing those garments like a badge and asking those very teammates if their mothers could do the same.

 For several years before her death, my mom offered to share my adoption records so if I wanted to I could seek out my birth parents. In those days, my attitude was fairly jaded as I thought to myself, “The Hell with em’. They didn’t want me so why should I care about them?”

 But as the years passed by, I have to admit my curiosity started to grow. My older sister had tracked down her birth family and discovered she had a family history and siblings she had never known existed. She was all over my backside to get with the program.

As my curiosity grew, I convinced myself I needed to explore my background to discover any hereditary health issues. After conducting brief online research, I delegated the project to my sister's daughter, who has a keen interest in genealogy. She identified my birth mother, complete with address and phone number, in less than a couple of days….and that was in her spare time away from her teaching job…….but what was I going to do with the information.

After much prodding from my family, the tough guy finally wrote a letter of introduction. It was primarily asking for confirmation that she was the mother of a child born at Deaconess Hospital on March 21, 1944 in Oklahoma City. I also told her I was interested in the family health history, wasn’t looking for a mother, because I already had one, and that if she wanted no contact I fully understood and would respect her wishes. When a week passed by after mailing that fateful letter, I concluded she had no interest in hearing from a child out of the distant past or wasn’t the mother. But I was dead wrong.

I heard from her on an Easter Sunday evening and all of a sudden the tough guy wasn’t so tough. She apologized for taking so long to respond to my letter by saying, “I had some business to attend to, I have four other living children, who have never known of your existence, and I had to tell them first.” She then added, “My birthday is March the 18^th and not a year goes by that I didn’t think about you on yours because it’s so close to mine.”

The rest is history as they say. We went to McAlester for that first meeting not really knowing what to expect, but a more genuine person I’ve never met. My siblings were receptive and made me wonder how I might have felt in similar circumstances. And our relationship continued to grow year after year.

As we prepared to leave after that first visit, we embraced and she said, “It’s like a ton of weight has been lifted off my shoulders. All these years, people would ask how many children I had and I always knew there was one more than the number I answered with.”

The mystery had finally been unraveled. She passed away at 93, but had enjoyed a happy life in McAlester, Oklahoma. I was just really grateful for the prodding and divine intervention which finally enabled me to make the connection. If I was honest, I would admit it was always all about me. What kind of dark secrets would be revealed, and did I really want to know them….The secrets were revealed and they turned out to be really good ones.

It's kind of like the old cliché about if they return it was meant to be…if not, it never was. My birth mother turned me loose for a better life….my parents certainly provided that and much, much more. I returned full circle from where I started, to find out the world, indeed, is a special place and just as I always thought, I am special, but so are many others. A salute to all you Mothers out there and have a Grand Day as it was earned in oh so many ways.

See Ya Around the Pond

A Christmas Celebration for one & All

35th Anniversary Christmas Boat Parade Set 
for Saturday night, December 14th

The boats will once again be spectacular

The thirty-fifth Annual CYC Christmas Light Boat Parade is set for Saturday night with current information indicating some 35 boats will be participating. Boat captains and their crews have been working for weeks to decorate their boats. Things will get underway at 3:00PM with participating boats on display for viewing by the public with a poolside and dock party taking center stage. The festivities will include a bonfire, free hot chocolate and cider, 2$ hot dogs will be available, and everyone is invited to the party.

The decorated boats will be on display from 3 pm -5:30 PM with the various crews providing entertainment of sorts with Santa’s arrival scheduled for approximately 5:30 PM. The boats are scheduled to leave shortly after that with a fireworks show being the exclamation mark as the last boat leaves the marina. Following the parade a Captain’s Party is scheduled for 7 PM with the awards ceremony to follow at 7:30. More information is available on the Cherokee or Arrowhead web sites or Facebook pages. Sunday brunch, scheduled from 10 AM – 2 PM on Sunday, will also be offered with reservations required. Enjoy the party!

What makes this Grand Lake tradition so successful is the participating Captains and wouldn’t be possible without the generosity of its sponsors. Those stepping forward to sponsor this year’s event includes Prosperity Bank, Morrison Construction, Arrowhead Boat Sales & Marina, GRDA, Notable Outdoor Living, Safe Harbor/Harbors View, Cedar Port Marina, Cherokee Yacht Club, Hammerhead Marina, Grand Lake Cabins, and the Grand Lake Association

The very first Christmas Boat Parade was organized 35 years ago and has become a staple of the Christmas season on Grand Lake. That very first event, which had serious doubters when announced by the Cherokee Yacht Club, was a resounding success in 1989. The atmosphere at the pre-party could be compared to the electricity usually reserved for a championship sporting event.

I was on hand for that first event and can testify to the evening being a game-changing promotion which contributed significantly to expanding Grand Lake’s season. The atmosphere that night was extraordinary, and the excitement could have been carved up and served as dessert. There couldn’t have been a Santa suit within 250 miles that hadn’t been rented by a Grand Laker for the evening. Those of us taking part that evening were witnessing a change in the Grand Lake business as usual approach to the off-season, which would benefit our economy for years to come. But that was thirty-five years ago and thanks to Joe Harwood pumping life into the event year-after-year, it’s an established tradition that just keeps getting bigger and better.

Over the years there have been peaks and valleys with the numbers of participating boats and crews being as high as 30 and as low as seven, but the 34^th anniversary event last year may have been the best one ever, but this year’s event may exceed all expectations.

And as Joe Harwood said, “I would like to thank the participants, sponsors, and crowd for making  this event possible.  Without your participation and sponsorship, this wonderful event would not be possible.  Thanks You!

See Ya’ Around the Pond!!

A Grand Thanksgiving to One and All!

As the Thanksgiving holiday approaches, I’m reminded of all those blessings our family has reason to give thanks for. I’m also reminded of days gone by and how drastically things have changed in my short life time. This particular holiday is no exception.

 As a youngster growing up in Oklahoma City area, I can remember many Thanksgivings which were similar from year-to-year. The women and girls were occupied preparing a feast by any standard, while the men and boys spent the morning Quail hunting some 20 miles south of the city. There were aunts, uncles, cousins and every other form of family one can imagine. It was a traditional and family affair. But those were much simpler times and a lot has changed since those days.

 To me, Thanksgiving 1963 represented the beginning of a change in our entire society. It started with the shocking news of President John Kennedy’s assignation in Dallas. I don’t suppose anyone old enough to remember can’t recall where they were when they heard the news. I was returning from Central State College, located in Edmond and now known as the University of Central Oklahoma, where I had attended classes that morning.

 WKY Radio interrupted their programming at approximately 12:30 p.m. to announce the president had been shot and to join the ongoing national coverage. Not knowing what else to do, I headed for the same place I had always gone before when I perceived something was wrong. I headed for 1219 North Portland where my parents had resided for as long as I could remember. Together, we huddled closely to their old Philco TV set as the news from Dallas got steadily worse. Our worst fears confirmed…President Kennedy was dead.

 As I look back on that dark day, I realize it probably represented the death of my innocence. I had never dreamed such an event could take place in this country. This kind of thing was something Huntley & Brinkley would chronicle during their evening telecast from some far away place in another part of the world, not in the United States of America. But this was just the tip of the iceberg. The assassinations of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., along with the whole Vietnam experience would change our society forever. Shocking events were becoming less shocking and there was a division in our nation not witnessed since the civil war. Yet there was more to come.

 In recent years, we magnified our lists of tragic experiences with the Columbine mass shootings, the bombing of the Murrah Building in my home town and the horrific events of 9/11and unexplained shootings no longer even make the front pagee. Not to mention the many combat related events around the world we’ve engaged in as the self appointed sheriff for all of man kind..

 Coors was the drug of choice in my Oklahoma City high school and violence was defined by students squaring off at nearby Reed Park to settle their differences. There was some talk of brass knuckles, pipes instead of pipe bombs, and other weapons of mass destruction, but none did I ever personally used or have used on me. No guns, crack, marijuana and the list goes on, and indeed, the times have changed.

 Yet, we’ve solved so many problems during this same period of time. Great depressions can now be avoided and the means utilized can be seen debated in the form of bumper stickers. Many forms of Cancer can now be cured and I’m living proof of that. We have the technology to put men on the moon and space travel is no longer a big deal. Computers which used to fill a room can now be balanced in your lap; and your wife can track you down wherever you are via a cell phone or worse yet a smart phone….Thank God for caller ID.

 Yet our politicians and leaders resemble kids fighting over toys in a sand box. The rural areas of our country, just like this one, are growing by leaps and bounds due to the exodus from the metro areas fueled by its crime rate and more. More energy is expended in covering one’s backside than in addressing a specific problem. Perhaps it’s a sign of the times but I hope not.

 But regardless of all the issues we can find to complain about, we still reside in the greatest nation on earth. This same huge pot, which brought together so many different nationalities to form our nation, still has a lot of work to do. There are problems to be addressed and solutions to be found.

 This Thanksgiving might we all give thanks to the courage and sacrifices made by those who came before us to insure our way of life. Let’s just hope that future generations will have reason to give a similar salute to the current caretakers of the greatest nation ever formed. As we gather round that table to give thanks, enjoy our family and friends and enjoy the feast, let’s all pray for the custodians of our nation regardless of their political or religious persuasion.

 See Ya’ Around the Pond!!