Mark's Thanksgiving

Mark’s Thanksgiving

Winter came early.  The snow in mid-November was totally unexpected.  Not only was it unexpected, but it was overwhelming.  When three feet of snow falls in a 24-hour period, everything comes to an abrupt standstill.  Everything stops.  Except the cows need to be fed and milked.  Eggs need to be collected and the chickens need fed.  The ice in the water troughs needs broken.  The pigs still need to be slopped.  It all has to be done with heavy boots, gloves, and winter coats.  You don’t wear heavy winter gloves when you milk cows.

            Fifteen year-old Mark would not have to go to school this day.  It wasn’t that school was cancelled.  It’s just that there was no way that he could trudge through three feet of snow to get there especially given the fact that it was going to take twice as long to take care of his regular household and farm chores.  Then, since he would be staying home anyway, Pa would take advantage of Mark’s presence to take care of some other chores on the farm that needed attention.  There were never enough hours in a day to do everything that needed attention.  Much of that work was done on Saturday, but that amounted to Band-Aid work.  You simply did the best you could under the circumstances and pray that things would hold together until the next Saturday.  Pa didn’t allow work on Sunday.  The cows still needed milked on Sunday and all the farm animals had to be fed; otherwise, Sunday was the Sabbath.  It was the Lord’s Day and it was a day of rest from farm labors.  Sunday was the day the family dressed up in their best clothing and went to church down the road.  It was a day to sit in the parlor after dinner and read the Bible together.  It was a day to take a loaf of hot bread to the neighbors across the way.  It was a day when the family would feast on Ma’s fresh berry pie.  Mark often wondered why Ma had to continue working around the house if it was a day of rest from farm labors.  That didn’t stop him from eating Ma’s fresh berry pies and scraping the bottom of the pie pan for any leftover remnants of a pie.

            Saturday in the winter was a gift to the farm.  During the summer work could be done six days a week and it would be possible to keep up with the work.  Daylight hours were shorter in the winter and Mark had to be in school six hours a day.  Added to those six hours of school was another two hours of walking to and from school.  Eight hours away from the farm during the winter was a burden.  Mark had considered dropping out of school when he turned 16 so he could help around the farm, but Pa wouldn’t hear of it.  Pa had made it to the tenth grade before he dropped out to help Gramps on the farm, but that was then and now was now.  Mark needed an education so he could manage the farm better than what Pa had done.  Pa wouldn’t bend.

            If working extra hard on Saturday to make up for lost time during the week wasn’t enough, Mark still had homework to do every night.  That meant he would get home from school around four-thirty in the evening, just before it got dark and have just barely enough time to start his evening farm chores before supper time.  There’d be another couple of hours of chores to do and then he could start on his homework.  Often it would be midnight or later before he could turn out the lights and get some sleep.  Sleep was something that Mark cherished since he awoke each morning at four to do his morning chores before heading off to school.

            Supper time on the farm was good.  It seemed like it was really the only time other than Sunday when Mark could sit for a spell and relax.  Since they lived on the farm there was always plenty of beef, pork, and chicken to eat.  Pa always butchered a pig and put it in the smoke house until it was cured.  Mark loved the hickory smoked ham and pork chops.  Ma and his two younger sisters tended to the garden in the summer and as a result they had lots of vegetables and fruits to eat through the winter.  Potatoes were stored in a dugout bin outside.  Corn and green beans were canned in blue Mason jars.  There were always turnips, beets, and carrots to add to the dinner table.  There were lots of greens in the summer, but salad makin’s were pretty scarce in the winter.  Onions seemed to be able to keep year round.  The half dozen apple trees they had provided more than enough apples for the family through the year.  The volunteer crab apple tree out by the road produced the best apples for apple butter. 

            Supper time was also time for family members to talk about their day and things that were going on in the world.  Pa had saved up money over the years to buy a Philco Tombstone Radio and with a little fine tuning the family would spend a little time listening to music or radio shows and news of current events.  They had even relished the time they could listen to their President, Franklin Roosevelt once in a while.  It was over the radio that they had learned of the Hindenburg disaster and union strikes at General Motors and the Chrysler Corporation.  There had been violent conflicts between police and union workers that resulted in several people being killed.  Machine guns had even been used.  It was over the radio that the family learned of a gas explosion at a Texas school that killed 295 children and teachers.  They learned about the lost woman pilot, Amelia Earhart from the radio.  Of course, not everything was gloom and doom over the radio.  The Shadow with Orson Wells was weekly entertainment for the family – when there was time.

            The radio was also where Mark and Ma and Pa heard Franklin Roosevelt’s Quarantine Speech.  Roosevelt had called for an international quarantine of “aggressor states”, which everyone knew to be Germany, Japan, and Italy.  In spite of the isolationist view held by the country, everyone subconsciously knew that the non-interventionist approach probably would not keep the United State out of war.  The Panay Incident, where Japanese bombers sank an American gunboat would only be an opening scene to what would follow in four years.

Life was good on the farm.  With coal in the basement to burn through the winter and food in the family storehouse to set on the table. Unlike some of his friends in the town, Mark and his family would always have enough to get them comfortably through the winter.

            What they didn’t have enough of was time.  And money.

            Mr. Gifford, Mark’s history teacher was also the school’s basketball coach.  Mr. Gifford had been leaning on Mark to sign up for basketball.  Mark was tall for his age, strong from baling hay on the farm, and he was fast on his feet and had good eye-hand coordination.  Mr. Gifford was certain that if Mark was on the team that the school would do well in sectional and regional competition.  In a couple of years Mark could take the team to state competition.

            Mark wanted desperately to play basketball but knew that even one more hour away from the farm every day would mean that either work would not get done or he would have to stay up later each night on his homework.  As it was, Mark had a hard time staying awake in school after his lunch hour.  High school basketball just was not going to happen.

            Pa had just finished saying grace over breakfast when a knock came on the door.  It was unusual for anybody to be knocking on the door early in the morning.  The only folks who did that were neighbors looking for a couple of extra eggs or a cup of sugar.  There had been a time when some poor folks’ car had broken down in front of their home and needed help, but that was the only time a stranger had been to the door.  Twelve year-old Peggy Sue jumped up and ran to the door before Pa could even scoot his chair back from the table.

            While Peggy Sue ran off to the door, Mark brought up the subject of basketball.  He knew of an old car that was for sale.  It was at least ten years old and still ran.  He was certain that if he had a car to drive to school that he could do an extra hour’s worth of work in the morning before heading off to school and would still be able to be home on time after school to get his chores done.  Pa didn’t outright dismiss the notion, but for some reason he didn’t necessarily cotton to it either.  Mark was about to learn why.

            Peggy Sue opened the door and motioned for the well-dressed man to quickly come in out of the blowing snow.  He asked for Pa.

            After Mark heard the door close behind the visitor he saw Pa walking into the kitchen, all worn and tired with a worried look on his face.  Trembling, he held a piece of paper in his hands.  The crops that they had sold and the beef they had taken to market had not been enough to meet the mortgage on the farm.  If the mortgage wasn’t paid in full in ten days the bank would foreclose on the farm.

            Peggy Sue and Millie didn’t know what the word “foreclose” meant, but they could tell by the tears that were flowing down Ma’s cheeks that it wasn’t good.  They excused themselves from the table.  Mark knew what it meant to foreclose on the farm and he sat with head bowed and in shock.

            Food remained uncovered on the table while Mark sat and listened to his parents talk about what they could do to pay off the mortgage or at least make a couple of payments so they could keep the farm.  What farm equipment they had was literally held together with baling wire and even bubble gum.  Selling off the equipment wouldn’t make a dent in the payment they would have to make in order to convince the bank to hold off on foreclosure.  Perhaps by selling off a few more head of cattle and a couple of pigs they could make a sizeable payment, but Pa doubted that it would be enough to stop the bank.  By selling off some of the remaining cattle they could sell some of the excess hay that they would no longer need.  It would help, but would never be near enough to solve the problem.

            Mark’s offer to find a job was met with Pa’s shake of his head.  There were no jobs to be found anyway.  Besides, any money he could earn by working evenings and weekends would never arrive in time to meet the demands of the bank.  Quitting school and working in the coal mine was simply out of the question.  Mark could barely get the words out of his mouth that he could drop out of school and join the army as everyone knew war was on the horizon.  Pa’s glance with his steely eyes sent a message that made Mark want to crawl under the table.

            Everything they thought of or talked about would pay out too late and come up too short.  Ma said she and the girls could make and sell quilts and with Christmas around the corner there would be a market for them.  Pa liked the idea.  He told Ma to go ahead make her quilts.  Pa knew that she could never make enough quilts in the next ten days to make a payment to the bank, but it would give her something to do to make her feel like she was helping to resolve their financial crisis.  Besides, who knew?  Maybe between the sale of some cattle and hay and a quilt or two they might come up with enough money to satisfy the bank.

            Pa knew better.

            The reality was that the banker was a shrewd business man.  Who was Pa trying to kid?  The way the economy was at that time he could take the money and give it to the bank and the bank would foreclose on the farm anyway.  In the end they would be better off selling what they could and keep the money so they could rent a place until they had money to move on or buy a new place.

            Pa had made up his mind.  He gathered his coat and hat and kissed Ma on the cheek before he headed out the door to the market.  Cattle would be sold.  Since there was too much snow on the ground for the girls to get to school they could help Ma start the quilting.  Mark was left to tend to the remaining chores of the day.  He knew the routine.  He would need to add machinery maintenance and repair to the list of things to do.  Equipment would have to be sold if they had a prayer of a chance of paying off the mortgage.  Mark followed Pa out the door just a few minutes later and made his way to the barn.

            The most valuable piece of equipment they owned was the tractor.  It had come with the farm when Pa had bought the farm the year Mark was born.  It was newer then.  Over the years Mark had learned how to tune the tractor so it would run long enough to get the plowing and harvesting done, though sometimes he would have to do some work on it while it was in the field.  He decided that if he took extra care in making repairs that he could fix the tractor so that it would start on its first or second try.  He could straighten out a few dents and work out rust and then put on a fresh coat of paint to give it a little more sales appeal.  The seat had an old leather covered cushion that had holes in it.  As he looked around the barn he spied an old cowhide hanging over a rafter.  Thinking that Ma could use the old cowhide to cover the tractor’s cushion, he climbed up and dropped it to the floor of the barn.  A cloud of dirt and pieces of straw mushroomed into the air as it hit the ground.

Mark stepped up on the tractor and pulled the cushion down.  When he did he noticed a key that had been under the seat.  He thought it odd that a key would be there since he had never used a key before to start the tractor.  With key in hand, he climbed up into the seat and began looking at the dials and gauges on the tractor.  There as plain as day was an ignition keyhole.  He started to insert the key into the ignition, but it wouldn’t fit.  Satisfied that the key was worthless as far as the tractor was concerned he started to drop it on the ground but remembered that one of the animals might try to eat it and make it sick.  He put the key in a pocket and carried the cushion and cowhide into the house and explained to Ma what his idea was.  She thought it was a marvelous idea.

Hours seemed to melt away as he worked on the tractor.  He had found some copper wire in the barn that he used to replace some of the electrical wiring on the tractor and did some fine tuning here and there.  After he pounded out the dents in the tractor he decided he had done all that he could do without getting some paint to help it look like new.  That would take a trip into town.  That was not going to happen today.

By now his hands were greasy and knuckles were bloodied from prying nuts and bolts loose on the tractor.  As much as he knew there was other equipment to work on he looked for something that he could do while standing up.  Straightening up the barn would do just fine.  Besides, perhaps a cleaned barn would make the property more valuable in a sale.  If nothing else it might lift Pa’s spirits.

By mid-afternoon the barn was starting to look organized.  It wasn’t that it had not been organized before as Pa held to the axiom that there’s a place for everything and everything needs to be in its place.  But there had been cans and old pieces of rope and broken boards that were just lying around.  Loose boards needed hammered back into place and hand tools could always use a good sharpening and hung just a little more neatly.

The longer Mark worked in the barn the warmer he became.  He had first loosened his coat and later took off his hat.  The cold wind may have been swirling around outside, but sweat was dripping from his brow while he was inside the barn.  He had long since taken off his coat and hung it on a nail on a ten-by-ten support.  He now rolled up his shirt sleeves as he began his final job in the barn.

Mark had gathered all the trash into a back corner of the barn.  Later he would burn what could be burned and pile everything else in the community dump.  That back corner seemed like a good place to sweep all the remaining loose dirt and rubbish.  After sweeping for ten or fifteen minutes Mark saw a leaf rake and thought to himself that the rake would probably do a better job of moving debris around than an old broom.  He would come back later with the broom and go over the dirt to give it a fresh clean look.

As he raked the odd collection of dried leaves, straw, chicken feathers, and bits of paper and broken glass, his rake snagged onto something that had been hidden just below the surface of the dirt.  He pushed the rake back and drew it toward him one more time.  Again, one of the tines of the rake snagged onto something that prevented Mark from drawing the rake any further.  Frustrated, he pushed his rake away from him and drew the rake back quickly and forcibly.  Though the rake flew over the spot where it had previously been hung up, he noticed that tines on the rake jumped as he pulled over the spot.  Determined to remove whatever it was that was causing the rake to hang up in that one spot, he tossed the rake aside and kneeled down next to the bump in the ground.  He began rubbing dirt away from the bump and found what looked to be a rounded piece of rock about the size of a twenty-five cent piece.  Rather than continuing to rub the dirt away, he pulled his pocket knife from his pocket and began digging around the rock.  When he stuck his knife blade in the ground where he thought the blade would be under the rock, the knife came to a sudden stop.  He began stabbing around the rock only to find that he could only dig his knife in the dirt an inch or so.  Dead set upon removing whatever it was that buried beneath the surface of the ground, he moved to get a shovel and began digging around the rock.

As he continued to dig he found that what he had been running his rake over was not a rock at all, but a small wooden box that measured about six inches wide and deep and about a foot long.  The corners of the box were covered with pieces of round brass.  Its edges were covered with leather. 

Try as he could, he was unable to lift the box out of the ground.  Using the shovel as a lever he was able to lift the box out of its bed and flipped it over onto its top.  He turned the box upright.  On the center of what was opposite of hinges was a small keyhole.  Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out the key that he had earlier thought of dropping onto the ground.

The keyhole was caked with dirt and there was no way that Mark could tell if the key would fit, so he picked away with the dirt as best he could.  Then he brought a bucket of water over to the box and began gently bathing the keyhole.  Within a few minutes the water was running clear as it fell from the keyhole.  Again, he attempted to slide the key into the hole.  This time the key fit perfectly.  When he turned the key clockwise in the box he heard a distinctive click.  His heart raced as he opened the box.  He had read of buried treasure before and had dreamed of finding lost pirate’s gold on a tropical island in the middle of the Caribbean, but never dreamed of finding a treasure chest in his own barn.

The top of the box was filled with papers.  They appeared to be some type of legal or bank papers.  The first paper he saw had the name of the previous owner of the farm, Mr. Gruenberg.  Mark knew very little of Mr. Gruenberg except he believed that he or his father had come to America from Germany before the American Civil War.

Below the thin layer of papers was a German Bible.  Mark instinctively knew that he had found items that were at least intrinsically valuable.  He placed the papers back inside the box on top of the Bible and looked around the barn for something to spread on the ground.  He didn’t want to get items in the box dirty and he certainly did not want to show disrespect for the Bible.  He looked again to the rafter where he had previously found a cowhide and spied another one.  He scrambled to the rafter and carried the cowhide back down with him instead of dropping it to the ground.

After spreading the cowhide on the ground next to the box he began lifting the papers and the Bible out of the box and gently placed them on the hide.  Beneath the Bible were yet more papers.  With the exception of one paper, he had no idea what the papers were about.  Perhaps with closer inspection he or Pa would be able to tell what the papers were about.  But, there was one paper that he understood immediately because on it in big bold letters were the words, “In Payment for Duty in the Union Army”.  He held in his hands the original deed to the farm where he was now living.  Mr.Gruenberg was about 90 years old when he had died ten years ago.  Mr. Gruenberg had served in the Union Army during the American Civil War!

Mark gingerly lifted a cloth from the box that had been under the deed to the farm.  Civil War medals had been carefully lined up on the cloth.  He carefully removed the cloth with the medals still on top of the cloth.  When he removed the cloth and the medals he could not believe his eyes.  There on the bottom of the box was an inch thick layer of gold coins dating back to the Civil War.  The 1905 five-dollar gold piece looked as new as the day it was minted as did the 1912 Indian head gold piece.  But, those were the newer gold coins.  Others dated back to the Civil War and even before.  All he could do is stare at the box in disbelief.  Perhaps Mr. Gruenberg had buried some of these coins before or during the Civil War.  It was common knowledge that land owners and bankers of the South had buried their valuables during the war before Union troops came through.  Many of those treasures remained hidden to this day.  Perhaps Gruenberg did the same before he went off to war, and then added to it after the war as his own personal bank, protecting himself against poverty in depression times.  Whatever the reason, Gruenberg had left a treasure to be found at some future date.  Surely he could not have simply forgotten it when he sold the farm to Pa.  But, it didn’t matter now as Gruenberg had died years ago and Mark was certain that there were no heirs.

As he sat on the ground in the barn he heard the door open.  He looked up to see Pa walking in and to hear him calling Mark’s name.  Mark jumped up and ran to Pa, but before he could say anything Pa began telling him that he had sold all the cattle and a couple of pigs and that the bank would accept that as partial payment.  If Pa could come up with at least one full payment on the farm, the bank would not foreclose on the farm.  However, if the family missed one payment in the future, even by one day, the bank would foreclose.

Pa looked around the barn and saw that Mark had been working hard all day long, but could not understand why he looked so animated after a full day’s work in the barn.  What was really unusual was for Mark to grab his father’s hand and pull him over to the side of the barn where he had found his Caribbean buried treasure.  Pa’s eyes went wide with wonder.  His eyes dashed back and forth between the gold coins in the box, the German Bible, medals from the Union Army and the Grand Army of the Republic, and bank papers.

The following week, the day before Thanksgiving, Mark approached Mr. Gifford and told him that he would be able to stay after school and practice basketball.  However, he would still have to be home in time to do his chores and sit with the family for supper.  Perhaps now Mark would get to listen to The Shadow a little more often and the family would be able to listen to President Roosevelt’s Fireside Chats.

_____

The occurrences described over the radio were actual events that took place in 1937.

 © 2016 Gregory B. Talley

An Election Reflection

Though Donald Trump was ahead in the electoral college when I turned out the lights and went to bed, I fully expected to wake up to the news that Hillary Clinton had won the presidency.  I could not believe my eyes and ears when I turned on the TV in the morning and learned that Trump had won.  Let me make myself clear before I go any further with my comments.  The two major parties could not have selected poorer choices to be their candidates than they did in the persons on Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.  If their names had been computer code in some computer language (C++ or something of that nature) the message would have read FATAL ERROR the first time a person had tried to run the program.  How we as a nation picked these two particular candidates is beyond me.  When I awoke Wednesday morning I was relieved that we as a nation had not elected Hillary Clinton and at the same time dismayed that we had selected Donald Trump.

With that little bit out of the way, I have had time to reflect on the election and why it turned out the way it did given the candidates that we were given.

A few weeks ago I mentioned that over a short period of time I had traveled from Maine to the Gulf Coast and on to Texas and New Mexico and back through the midsection of the country to New York.  During that trip I saw exactly one yard sign supporting Hillary Clinton.  In contrast, there were hundreds of yard signs and billboards supporting Donald Trump.  I concluded that if the election was to be determined by the signs along my route through America that Donald Trump would win the election.  I think many of those reading my comments dismissed my observation as wishful thinking.  However, I suggest that you take a good luck at the way counties across the country voted in this election.  The election map is a sea of red.  Yes, there is blue, but primarily on the west coast, New York and New Jersey and a few other spots here and there, primarily in large cities and university counties.

Those yard signs are a reflection of that map showing how counties voted in this election.  In a way, this election was a rural revolt against large cities and university towns that have traditionally leaned to the left.  Conservative rural communities rose up and said that they were not going to take it anymore.  They were tired of being marginalized.

I also made an observation about conversations I’ve overheard in diners and standing in checkout lines in stores.  I mentioned the empty warehouses, vacated farms, and boarded up businesses.  Those observations were poo-pooed by a few Facebook friends, yet those conversations and the boarded up businesses had significant meaning.  A lot of pollsters have been asking themselves how they could have been so wrong in their predictions of this election.  The fact is that they didn’t pay attention to what many Americans were saying in the diners and checkout lines; they didn’t look at the empty warehouses, boarded up business windows, and vacated farms.

Hillary Clinton could have won this election had she listened to the talk in the diners and thought about those empty warehouses, boarded up business windows, and vacant farms.

She made a few other missteps as well.

She spent more time on trying to break the glass ceiling than building the house.  Frankly, that offended a multitude of men AND women.  She appealed to everyone except one very large voting group: middle-aged, middle class, get-up-in-the-morning-and-work-harder-and-longer-for-less, average Joe, white American male.  She didn’t even try.

I know that many people would point to FOX News and suggest that this organization is responsible for putting Trump in the White House.  Indeed, FOX News has a plurality of viewers now, but certainly not a majority.  Clearly, FOX News leans to the right, but it is only one among the many that comprise the media block consisting of CNN, MSNBC, ABC, CBS, and NBC,and all the left-leaning print news organizations.  If you wanted to see how “impartial” these good folks are you should have watched Robin Roberts on GMA on Wednesday morning (11/9/2016).  Her contempt for Trump was clear.  The point is that FOX News was virtually the only conservative view over cable against a wall of liberalism.  Any advantage Trump had because of FOX News was easily overcome by the other networks.  People were tired of the left-slanted editorializing of news.

Though Comey chose not to pursue Clinton on her private email server and the mishandling of classified emails, the public chose another path.  Had it been the first time she had made a mistake the public would have forgiven her.  But, it has been error after error after error.  There comes a time in people’s minds that too many errors are not oversights and mistakes, but intentional acts.

Hillary Clinton thought she could ride Obama’s coattails.  In spite of the more than 50% favorable rating of the President, that poll has the same flaws that the election polls and predictions have.  Whatever that flaw is, it is real.  Much of the American public see Obama’s presidency as flawed and failed.  Clinton’s decision to make her presidency a continuation of Obama’s presidency did her no favors.  Regardless, there are enough issues riding on Obama’s coattails that virtually shook off potential voters for Clinton.  Taken individually, none by itself would be enough to sway the election to Trump.  But, taken together?  Well, there’s a problem. 

At the top of the list is Obamacare.  Instead of making medical care affordable it has blown health care costs into the stratosphere.  Those who used to have care can no longer afford it and doctors who were walking on financial tightropes anyway left the practice of medicine.  Insurance companies are opting out of the program.  So much for the promise that if you like your doctor you can keep your doctor and that if you like your insurance you can keep your insurance. 

Then there is this little Second Amendment issue.  Mr. Obama never wasted a shooting to harp on taking away the people’s right to bear arms.  Unless you are a shooter, you didn’t see the scarcity of ammunition in the big box stores and the sporting goods stores.  For over a year it was nearly impossible to find popular firearms’ caliber ammunition.  It wasn’t because it was being bought up by the public, but the government was buying all of it before it hit the shelves.  He and Ms. Clinton never fully understood that the people want to preserve their liberties against big government as much as they want to protect their homes against traditional invaders and put wild game on the table.  They see fear of our own government as pure hogwash. 

Closely related to that is his complete neglect of law enforcement and the building of minorities into a froth over police shootings – both ways.  While he expressed outrage over wrongful killing of innocent (and not-so-innocent) citizens by police, he could not bring himself to express sorrow over the murder of police officers.  This irked police and law and order folks alike.  The message that was sent was loud and clear: Black Lives Matter and Blue Lives don’t.  Clinton has never been shy about her position on gun control, and her disdain for law enforcement is well documented. 

Much of America sees her relationship with Wall Street as being just a little too cozy.  Then there are those who see her sale of American uranium to Russia as treason.

Let’s move to another elephant (perhaps a Republican elephant) in the room.  It is called Benghazi.  It is hard to say which came first, the lies or the mishandling.  Chronologically, the mishandling came first, but the lies overshadowed the mishandling.  Americans are a forgiving people.  Had she come clean at first, Americans would have been upset with her but would also have said that she made a decision and rode with it.  But then, “what difference does it make?”

Religious freedom has been a huge issue for the evangelicals concerning Obama and Clinton.  When Obama’s commission came back and reported that religious freedom was code for all kinds of –isms and phobias, the moderate to conservative religions of the country unitedly balked in the form of a letter to the President.  Rarely do such diverse religions agree on a specific topic.  The threat of free speech and the free exercise of religion and religious practice were on the line for churches and synagogues.  Religious leaders were fearful that the government was going to step inside the sacred walls of the church and prohibit the teaching of doctrinal principles and practices.  There was legitimate concern as they already had seen the mayor of Houston, Texas, making that attempt.

Linked closely to religious freedom, a fear-mongering effort on the part of the Obama Administration and supported by Ms. Clinton, took root.  They, along with expert liberals, seriously misread the hearts of the American people.  This fear brought with it a whole new vocabulary that had millions of people scrambling to dictionaries and online definitions to discover what they were being accused of.  That vocabulary consisted of terms like xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, and Islamaphobia.  Tagged with these unfamiliar terms were bigotry, sexism and racism.  Those were terms that the average working class American understood – and resented.

Closely related to the –isms and phobias that Obama so valiantly fought against was the embrace of political correctness.  To be sure, political correctness began long before Obama assumed the Presidency.  I point to the academic world, which decided that referring to human, him, he, and his were sexist and exclusionary of half of the world.  (I’m sure that feminists couldn’t agree more.)  We all know that this country along with the majority of men in the rest of the world has treated women differently.  We have slowly come out of the dark ages in assuming that women are less intelligent than men.  Along with that though has been the placement of women on a pedestal and in need of protection.  Indeed, there are those who abuse women, scorn women, hate women, are fearful of women, misuse women, belittle women, and all manner of terrible mean things to, of, and about women.  This is not the case with the vast majority of men, and men are tired of being painted with the same broad brush.  Men are also tired of being portrayed as bungling idiots who could not fight their way out of a well-lit paper bag.

Then there is the whole gender identity thing.  Most Americans can tolerate those who have their gender identity crisis or confusion or selection of whatever it is called, but do not want it shoved down their throats.  They question and have legitimate concerns.  Most Americans are asking when the majority can rule.

Most Americans born in the 20s through the 60s were familiar with the phrase sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.  They are tired of the new bullying definitions, safe spaces, rioting when things don’t go the way rioters think they should go – even in the face of overwhelming evidence that their cause was wrong.  To add insult to injury, middle class American patriots are tired of the way the offended are coddled by the government.  They are tired of the federal government sticking its unwelcomed nose into local issues. 

Americans want the government to take care of America on the world stage and to stick up for America and represent America instead of apologizing to the world for America and then micromanaging American lives.  Obama in his rush to fundamentally change America into global citizens forgot that we are American citizens.  First.  We have not always been right as a nation but we have always responded to the pleas of the underdogs in the world and bailed our friends out when they faced conflict and destruction in spite of their disgust with us after we have rushed to their aid.  We have rushed aid where natural disasters have stricken.  We have sent our best and brightest against war, plague, famine, and storm.  Do we always get it right?  No!  Are we already a generous people?  Well, I think history will speak for itself.

Are there times when the federal government needs to be involved in the lives of Americans?  Yes, especially when there are significant inequities that state and local governments will not resolve on its own or when state and local resources cannot address.

Border security with its attendant influx of illegal immigrants and the threat of terrorism and the opening of the doors to refugees has been a major issue.  Americans by and large are good with, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free….”   Americans are not so benevolent with those who come in through a different path than what their ancestors or they themselves took.  If our nation is to follow the rule of law then the rule of law should be followed.  Crossing the border illegally into the United States means nothing if it isn’t enforced with immediate action.  By definition illegal crossing the border makes a person a criminal.  Now, not every person who crosses the border illegally engages in other criminal activity other than to work “off the books”.  But, those who engage in criminal activity need to be screened out and the best place to screen is at the border.

Americans are rightfully concerned about terrorism.  Most Americans understand that Central and South Americans are not the only ones slipping across the Rio Grande.  Illegals also come in through our ports and across our northern border with Canada.  As a sovereign nation we have an absolute right to protect ourselves against our enemies.  We have a right to know that when we fly from New York to Seattle that we won’t end up on the one-hundredth floor of an office building.  Those who adopt the progressive view have not considered the feelings of middle class America when it comes to border security.  And something as simple as referring to the Islamic State as ISIL instead of ISIS has rubbed Americans wrong.  Even worse has been the administration’s refusal to label Islamic Terrorism for what it is.  Americans understand that most Muslims are not terrorists and that Muslims should be no more offended by the term Islamic Terrorism than Christians would be offended by Christian Terrorism.  Bin Laden no more represented Islam than what Timothy McVeigh represented America or Christianity.

Meanwhile, refugees from the Middle East come into the United States and are already overwhelming services where they are settling.  Communities across the country are now saying, “No More!” to the influx of refugees.  At the same time, the vast majority of Americans want to be compassionate to those in need but fear both the small percentage that slip through the processing cracks and the refusal of immigrants to assimilate into the American Culture that has developed over the past two centuries.

Christians and Jews alike feel like Israel has been abandoned, contrary to Biblical belief systems.  This is totally unacceptable to them. 

Our entire Mideast policy is reflected in the scaling back of our military.  America has had a rich tradition of military strength and we have paid dearly during those occasions when our military was not as strong as it should be.  We learned that lesson during the American Revolution and the Barbary Coast Wars.  Americans learned that lesson and see threats to our nation from nations not deserving of our trust.  Likewise, the abandonment of our veterans is seen as totally disrespectful.  The unresolved issues of veteran health care and the mismanagement and cover-ups in the Veteran’s Administration remain sore and festering problems for the current administration.

There is more.  There are the energy policies that have put tens of thousands of people out of work.  There is the Cliven Bundy Effect and the incidents at the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge where a rancher was shot and killed by federal law enforcement agents.  Both clashes had their origin with the Obama Administration.  Whether the ranchers or the federal government was out of line is immaterial.  What mattered in this last election was what many saw as government overreach into areas where the Administration either had no business or had reversed itself from previous agreements.  Candidate Clinton was riding on these coattails.

There are little things that are important to Americans such as Clinton’s associates dropping “under God” from the Pledge of Allegiance. 

There are the big things that are also important to Americans such as Clinton’s assertion that it was time for America to have a woman president and that she was that woman.  The fact that women were behind Clinton simply because she was a woman turned off thousands and thousands of voters.  The message that it was time for a woman to be President and that she was that woman was the wrong platform for our time; not because women are incompetent (they are not), but because she spouted off that it’s a woman’s turn.  It doesn’t work that way and it never will work that way.  A woman will be elected to the Presidency of the United States because of her ability to be President, not because it’s her turn.

Of course the matter of her honesty, integrity, demeanor, and character were issues.  Those who knew how she was behind the scenes saw what kind of person she really was.  Her Jekyll and Hyde personality did not serve her well.

Finally, she did herself no favors by insulting a quarter of the American public by referring to them as deplorables.  While time passed to allow for a little healing, many Republicans and undecided voters felt that she was talking about them.  You just cannot do that.

Of course it would be easy to now explain why Trump did not win the majority popular vote, but that isn’t what counts.  I’ll leave that to some pundit who wants to take that on.  As for me and my Election Reflection, I don’t claim to be an expert.  I’m just an observer explaining what I saw.  Very simply stated, what I saw was the neglect and marginalizing of the middle-aged, middle class, hard-working, average American male (with a whole lot of women) and a series of missteps.  These missteps taken individually would not have caused her the election.  But taken together, too many people had been adversely affected by too many failures and assaults on their way of life.

You may see it differently.  You are welcome to share your differences of opinion on your own blog or Facebook timeline.  I’m not looking for a fight.  It isn’t that I don’t respect your opinion; it’s just that some people don’t know how to counter an opinion without attacking the person and others can’t do it without using profanity.  I’m not interested in a debate on my timeline or blog.  I’m sure that many who read my reflections will find fault.  Whatever.  You don’t have to tell me that I’m wrong or that I misinterpreted events.  These are the things that played through the minds of a lot of people as they stood in the ballot booth deciding which lever to pull or which ballot to mark.

I anxiously wait to see President Trump in action and pray for his success.  I will stand behind him and support him in his presidency.  If he is out of line I will be more than happy to find fault.  In the meantime, God Bless The United States of America.

Erie Canalway Towpath: Rome to Herkimer

Once again I ventured off on a bicycle ride on the Erie Canalway Towpath.  I had planned on riding on the trail on the Saturday before Halloween, but bad weather was predicted so I cancelled the trip.  Turned out that the weather prognosticators were wrong.  I started looking at weather forecasts for potential clear days with temperatures in the mid-50s and above.  Tuesday, November 8, 2016, looked like my last best chance of getting in a ride.  I think there is a pretty good chance that it will be the last long ride of the season, though I am not going to totally dismiss the chance for another pleasant day for a ride.

My real preparation for the ride didn’t begin until Monday, the day before the ride.  I had surveyed the selected route on maps and Google Earth previously, but as far as spending a lot of time getting equipment ready and my leg muscles prepared, I had not done much.  I think I have ridden a bicycle five times since my 120 mile-ride on the towpath during the previous two months.  Therefore, Monday consisted of printing out maps of the trail and frantically making annotations for the map of what to look for at specific turns on the trail.  That ended up being an important part of the preparation for the ride as like before, there were places on the trail where there were no markers pointing the way.  In fact, near the end of the ride I had to search for a hidden trail marker.

I began the ride at 10:40 a.m. just north of the Mohawk River on South James Street in Rome, New York.  If you are interested you can check it out on Google Maps and do an earth view to see the area.  I ended the trip at about 3:30 p.m. at the Historic Herkimer Church just east-southeast of Herkimer, New York, on New York Highway 5-S.  The total length of the ride was just over 32. Miles.

I am guessing that the temperature got up to 60 or 61 degrees – just enough to make it a pleasant ride.  By the time I finished it was in the low 50s to the mid – 40s.  It got a little cool, but I had additional clothing to put on in the event that it got too cold.

I was not the only person riding or hiking on the trail.  There were two couples at different points on the trail that I met coming from the opposite direction and maybe two or three other lone riders.  There were at least a dozen hikers and a cross country team from Utica College that were on the trail as well.  There were times when the trail was situated between the Mohawk River and the Old Erie Canal.  In fact there was one section on the trail that was between the original Erie Canal and the second generation of the canal.  I’m certain that there have been at least four generations of the Erie Canal.

A goodly portion of the trail was paved with asphalt.  There were places where tree roots had grown under the asphalt and pushed the pavement up into bone-jarring bumps.  There was about three miles of trail that was very soft because of recent rains.  It wasn’t exactly mud, but it was soft enough that it slowed forward progress considerably.  I think between the soft trail and the lack of good directional signage I lost between 30 and 45 minutes in travel time.

I only had one bad experience on the ride, which occurred outside of Utica, New York.  This part of the trail was on Highway 5 on a nice wide shoulder.  Even though most of the shoulders on the highways for this route are nice and wide, as it was here, I choose to ride as far away from the traveled portion of the highway as I can.  Some idiot (that’s all I can think to call him) came across the white shoulder line and onto the shoulder as close to me as he could without sideswiping me.  I literally could have reached out with my left hand and hit his car.  I was more disappointed that shaken up.

My GoPro failed me once again; however, I had a small camera with which I took a few pictures and a few video clips.  I am attaching them here and invite you to take a look.  They certainly are not professional, but they aren’t bad for a little point-and-shoot camera.  (It looks like the videos are not going to attach to the blog.  The message I get is that the two or three minutes of video is too big.  Darn.)

And by the way, I mention in the last video clip that Susan was going to pick me up in about an hour from when I was doing the clip.  Well, she arrived right after I finished the video clip.

Many, many thanks to Susan who supported my effort and spent the day cheering me on!

Evan McMullin Passes the Character Test

Evan McMullin passes the Character Test - I think.

If you do not know who Evan McMullin is you probably are not alone.  Nonetheless, he is on the ballot in a few states and is eligible for write-in in others.  He is a "Never Trump" Republican running as an Independent. That gives him a "do pass" in at least the first round.  He is married with children and appears to never have strayed.  Since fidelity in marriage has become an issue in this election, this gives McMullin a "do pass" in Round Two.

In the interest of full disclosure I must explain that McMullin is an active Mormon.  Not only that, but he grew up doing all the things that are expected of young Mormon men.  Many of you will say that this fact alone colors my judgment.  Perhaps.  Before you jump on that bandwagon, consider also that he supports his mother's marriage to a woman.  As an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints he sustains the leaders of the Church on their position on traditional marriage between a man and a woman and he loves his mother and supports her in her decision.

We don't know much about McMullin.  You can research him on the Internet for yourself.  You will find that he is quite moderate in some of his positions while he is also a patriotic conservative in other areas.  (This is not to say that Democrats are not patriotic.). You can find his stand on several issues as you search for Evan McMullin Platform.

His running mate is 35 Nathan Johnson, a longtime friend of Evan's.

I spent a few hours searching for dirt on McMullin.  It's hard to find.  There are a few reasons for this.  First of all, he is relatively young  (he's 40 years old) so he has not approached many of the less-honorable detours that many people older than he is has faced.  Half of his work career was with the CIA and is classified.  Unless there is a Wikileaks exposé on him, we're not likely to learn much about weaknesses and temptations he may have faced and succumbed to during that time of his life.  Finally, his public footprint is virtually nonexistent.  He's been on Facebook for three years.  I found very little objectionable there.  There is a Facebook post on his political page that appears to be posted by him that I found objectionable representing what a Trump presidency would look like.  It was poorly done.  So far finding much about his personal life is a challenge.  Of course you could ask what he is hiding.

I should also mention that he has been a congressional staffer.  If you are of a mind to say that anyone who has been employed by the CIA, has worked with Congress, and is a Mormon absolutely cannot pass the Character Test, then you need not look any further into McMullin as a viable candidate.  However, I choose to believe that there is little if any dirt on McMullin to be found.  He passes the Character Test for now.

Just because he passes this test it does not mean that he passes the Competence Test.  I'm sure like any candidate, as people dig deeper they will find inconsistencies in his stance on issues.  My intent is to dig deeper into his competence.

A Bad Day for Policing

A Bad Day for Policing

Gregory B. Talley 

Just in case you haven’t noticed this isn’t a good time to be a police officer.

I read an article recently written by a current police officer who said that he was recruited into police work by watching a police television show called “Cops”.  I remember the show.  It portrayed police officers from around the country doing great things for the right reasons.  Anybody who had an inclination to make positive contributions to the community would naturally be “recruited” into police work by watching that show.  Of course, there have been other police recruiting television series.  There was “Dragnet” and “Adam-12” to name a couple.  One of the shows that I thought fairly represented police work was “Hill Street Blues”.  So many other police drama shows portrayed police work as a job that had successful conclusions in 30 or 60 minutes, displayed poor police work and bad case law.  I believed Hill Street Blues was a much more accurate portrayal of police work.

I attribute much of what is happening in law enforcement today to the entertainment industry.  I hate to say it, but as much as I liked Clint Eastwood in “Dirty Harry”, Inspector Callahan was the worst possible role model for policing at the time.  He was a rogue cop doing what every other cop on the planet felt like doing but exercised restraint and resisted the temptation to follow in Dirty Harry’s footsteps.  I once heard a judge say that the worst moment of the film was when Harry threw his badge into the water.  The problem with Harry was that not only did he get away with what he was doing he was applauded for doing it.

Of course, it wasn’t (and isn’t) just Dirty Harry.  Television and the silver screen abound in police doing the wrong thing for supposedly the right reason for which they are rewarded.  The reality is that these television shows and movies serve as training videos for future and current police.  And, why shouldn’t they?  They are popular and they feed the public’s insatiable desire for justice.  Or, is it vengeance?  Whatever.

I think there are some other factors involved in what is going on in law enforcement today and it isn’t all about police.

There has already been a serious shift policing in the last 40 or 50 years.  It used to be that policing was a job that you went into if you couldn’t find any other work.  Several decades ago we had an Irish immigrant population that could not find employment anywhere and thus turned to policing in some of our major cities.  Returning war veterans unable to find sustaining work turned to policing, which incidentally resonated with veterans.  They wore uniforms and there were rules to follow, and an objective to be met though it wasn’t always clear what the object was.  At the time, curbside justice was tolerated if not encouraged.  Ironically, curbside justice may have been more beneficial to society than the criminal justice system if it wasn’t carried to extremes.  Without a doubt, some curbside justice went entirely overboard and should be labeled as criminal behavior.  However, the act of pouring out some kid’s beer and tossing his marijuana stash to the wind and embarrassing him (or her) in front of friends diverted more youth from the system than any juvenile judge or probation officer could possibly imagine.

These days, police have a minimum of a high school education and many have at least some college.  Many police departments actively recruit police officers with at least a two- or four-year college degree.  There are many pros and cons to the argument of hiring college educated police officers, none of which I wish to discuss here.  Likewise, many military veterans continue to turn to law enforcement for careers and many police departments readily accept veterans’ applications, and rightfully so.  They come into policing with discipline and willingness to follow orders.  Just as there are pros and cons to hiring college educated police recruits, there are also pros and cons to hiring veterans, again, none of which I wish to discuss here.  There are other things at play that contribute to the current bad day to be a police officer.

The easiest target is the entertainment industry.  It is by no means the only contributing factor and may not even be the biggest contributing factor, but it is a factor for consideration.  Not only does the entertainment industry provide training videos for law enforcement, but they also provide training videos for the public.  They portray an image of how the public in its estimation reacts to police intervention.

Closely related to the entertainment industry is the news media.  The public demands short sound bites of news and therefore the news industry delivers.  Unfortunately by providing instant and short coverage of events the entire story is generally omitted and facts are not fully covered.  Substituted in its place is commentary often slanted in the direction of those who have no restrictions on what they can and cannot say to preserve evidence for a trial in court.  Thus, police are subject to trial by media.  Many in the media are educated by liberal professors at liberal universities and carry with them a bias against authority and the establishment.  The bottom line is that police will never get a fair trial by the media.  While the media welcomes feel-good stories about the police, they are short lived and pale in comparison to criticism.

Yet, there is another issue at play.  It is subtle in nature but very real.  While we have had a shift in police attitudes and approaches we have also had a shift in public perceptions and attitudes.  Much of that shift has evolved over a very long period of time and comes from growing resentment built up over generations.  Paired with that is a growing generation that believes entitlement is something you are awarded for merely living instead of earning.

Every person who has ever donned a uniform and a badge has been accused of picking on teenagers.  Who hasn’t as a police officer dealt with a teenager who immediately retorted when stopped for a traffic violation that he or she was picking on youth simply because of their age?  Who has not been accused of stopping a minority because of minority status?  Many police officers have been accused of stopping minorities or youth in the middle of the night because of their status while under the condition of nighttime the officer had absolutely no idea who he or she was stopping.  What police officer has not gone ahead and issued a traffic citation or made an arrest when a person has talked his way into it when the person otherwise could have talked his way out of it by simply showing courtesy and respect?

There have been a number of recent high profile police shooting cases where the person involved was mentally or emotionally disturbed.  Unfortunately, these individuals are as capable of killing police as those who are in their right frame of mind.  Contrary to popular opinion, they do not walk around with signs hanging around their necks advertising their mental capacity.  Some people think that by yelling at the police who are dealing with a mental patient that they can prevent a shooting.  The fact is that yelling at the police that they are dealing with a mental patient serves more of a distraction than a help.  It takes a split second for an officer to turn attention away from the subject to end up being the one carried away to the morgue.  This, of course, assumes that police can even hear people yelling at them that they are dealing with a mental patient.  Just as we develop tunnel vision in certain situations, we also develop “tunnel hearing” in high stress situations or those situations where our attention is focused.

As a faction of the public becomes more and more brazen in its actions toward the police, police work is becoming more and more dangerous.  Our training teaches us survival skills.  Hesitation can be deadly for police while lack of hesitation can be deadly for a member of the public.  One would hope that there would be a balance there somewhere, but the desire for self-preservation is pretty strong.  The adage that a decision made in a split second by a police officer will be evaluated for years is never truer than it is today.  So true is it that I wonder why anyone in a right frame of mind would consider a career in policing today.

Some politicians are clamoring for more and more training for police.  Police generally like training, so that has the potential to be a win-win, but given the type of training politicians want to impose upon police it is doubtful that it will help.  Others want police to have other non-deadly force options for bringing combatants under control.  Some want more civilian control over policing, probably in the form of police civilian review boards.  There is a cry for tighter hiring practices.  Others want police departments to have the ability to share information with each other about police officers who have been disciplined so they won’t be hired by another department.  It seems everyone has a fix but is unaware of the complexities of such things as personnel law, expense, time, and the futility of their solutions.

Admittedly, there are problem police officers.  There are probably police departments out of control.  However, to paint all police departments with the same broad brush is a disservice to the officers who faithfully serve and the communities that they serve.

Sir Robert Peel (1788-1855), the Father of Modern Policing (1829) espoused nine principles for policing.  All nine deserve to be reviewed, but Peelian Principle Seven deserves some careful consideration as a cornerstone for the other eight principles.  “Police, at all times, should maintain a relationship with the public that gives reality to the historic tradition that the police are the public and the public are the police; the police being only members of the public who are paid to give full-time attention to duties which are incumbent on every citizen in the interests of community welfare and existence.”  It is highly doubtful that the public is aware of this principle that is as true today as it was nearly 200 years ago.  Meanwhile, the police have either forgotten this principle or have been boxed into a self-defense corner where it is nearly impossible to practice this principle.

Instead of police reformation it might be more appropriate to have police restoration.  That, however, will require the education of the public and assumption of civilian responsibility, something that seems to be in short supply in some sectors of the country.

2016 Erie Canal Towpath Bicycle Ride

I had often dreamed of doing an extended bicycle ride.  As years passed I considered what it would be like to ride west to east across Kansas or Nebraska.  Why those two states?  Because they are mostly flat and with a predominately west wind, it would seem easier to make the ride.  The only problem with Kansas and Nebraska is that they are both quite hot in the summer.

When we moved to New York, my sights fell on the Erie Canal Towpath.

The original canal crossed New York from Albany on the Hudson River to Buffalo at Lake Erie.  It ran 363 miles.  Construction began in 1817 and has 36 locks.  It has an elevation differential of 565 feet.  Commerce before the canal was done primarily by pack animal. Creation of the canal reduced shipping charges by 95 cents on the dollar.  All work on the canal was human and animal powered.  The original canal was 40 feet wide and 4 feet deep.  Animals pulled a “slip scraper” to help move earth.  Surveyors and engineers had little or experience in civil engineering yet managed to be precise in their work.  Most of the laborers were from Scotland and Ireland.

This is me on the first day of the ride.  The picture was taken in Pittsford, New York, at about 11:30 a.m. on Wednesday, September 7, 2016.  Please note the helmet.

I saw only two canal boats.  While there were other boats on the canal, this one was a tour boat.  These folks were friendly and waved and greeted me as they traveled down the canal.

My first real break on the first day was in Palmyra, New York.  This was close to the halfway point in the journey.  Susan met me here and treated me to lunch.  I was sweating already and the temperature was already in the 90s. Notice the book in front of me.  It is a map of the route.  It was accurate sometimes.  Two of the most important items I took on my ride was a GPS that had an odometer and a mileage chart that I created before the trip.  These two items helped me know where I was most of the time.  Villages along the path did not have welcome signs on the trail.  There was only one time when the book map was a total failure and that was because of a path closure and detour with no directions as to where to go.  I lost very valuable time because of that.  It cost me about eight miles that I had to make up the following day.

This was one of the many locks along the trail.  This particular lock had a dry dock.  The lock could be filled with water then drained completely dry thus allowing for painting and repairs.

As mentioned in the previous picture, this particular lock had a dry dock.  This particular boat was getting a fresh paint job while I was there.  Unfortunately I was downwind of the spray painting that was taking place.  I took a brief break anyway.

Andy and Bonnie Underwood and their dog met me at Port Byron and treated me to refreshments and company while I was stopped here.  Their visit was most welcome.

Since I was dedicating the ride to law enforcement it was only fitting that I get my picture taken with a law enforcement vehicle.  This particular one was driven by Deputy Westover.  He was at the park at Port Byron with a half dozen trustees from the jail who were doing cleanup work at the park.  Westover respectfully declined to be in the picture.

I specifically chose to ride 120 miles on this ride.  On average, 120 police officers die in the line of duty each year. This year's ride was for those who have already been killed in the line of duty and those that I am sure will be killed before the end of the year.  My only fear is that I didn't ride far enough.  My hope is that I rode too far.

There have been at least three generations of the Erie Canal from what I could tell.  Obviously, this one isn’t in use any more.  It serves as an example of how Mother Nature reclaims her land when it is abandoned.  It was not at all unusual to see sections of the canal that had fallen trees, weeds, cattails, and other water vegetation growing.  Surprisingly, there were very few ducks and geese along the canal.  However, I saw a blue heron and a bald eagle on the ride.

This is part of an old canal lock just west of Weedsport, New York.  There’s some pretty fancy artwork there.  There were some parts of the abandoned canal that were completely covered by vegetation and barely noticeable unless you happened to be paying attention.  This one just happened to be in a clearing alongside a highway.  There are old abandoned locks visible along the New York Thruway (I-90).  This one was on NY-5.

Mother Nature won here, except it is now part of a park in Jordan, New York.  It was right after I left this area that I was caught in a torrential downpour.  There was heavy rain for about 20 minutes.  The only shelter I could find was under an elm tree, which provided absolutely no shelter at all.  Everything was soaked, including a $300 camera that was in a waterproof bag that wasn’t so waterproof.  No.  The camera isn’t working.  To give you an idea as to how much of a storm it was, I had to stop three times to cross over trees that had come down on the towpath.

While I stopped for a break I noticed this flag in the distance.  It was a nice reminder of those who built this great nation and specifically of those Americans who labored on the canal.  I took this picture with the camera that was later ruined.  The flag was in Jordan and was several hundred yards away from me.

This is Nine Mile Aqueduct just a few miles from the west side of Syracuse.  This picture was taken on the second day of my ride and a couple of hours after the rain storm.  Notice the puddle on the trail on the left side of the picture of the aqueduct.

The trail consists primarily of paved sections, highway, and crushed limestone that is quite smooth in most places.  The only problems with the crushed limestone is that  when it is wet the bicycle tires pick up the pieces of limestone and coat your legs and bicycle.  It feels a bit like being stung by bees – mile after mile.  In some areas the limestone can be a couple of inches thick, which makes it a little difficult to traverse.  Think what it is like to walk barefoot on dry beach sand and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

The ride was in early September. There were a few early signs of Fall; however, temperatures were in the 90s.

Half of the trail between Syracuse and Rome falls within the Erie Canal State Park.

This is one of the original bridges on the canal.  This part of the canal is no longer navigable, but the bridge is usable.  Notice how low the bridge is to the water.  Passengers on canal boats would have to leave the top deck in the open air and go below in order to go under these bridges.

During its peak year, there were 33,000 passages on the canal.  While several of the barges carried consumer goods, many also carried immigrants and vacationers.  Some canal boat captains provided entertainment on their boats (generally a band).  Sleeping accommodations were provided on the boats by hanging curtains down the middle of the inside of the boat and having women sleeping on one side of the curtain and men on the other side.  Beds folded out of the walls on the inside of the boat and cots were used in the middle of the floor.

The towpath is alongside the canal, which is on the left in this picture.  Here the towpath bridge and aqueduct cross over a small river that is on the right side of the picture.  There are several stream, creek, and river crossings on the canal, but many have been put out of service essentially draining the old canal.

There are occasional benches along the way.  There were about a half dozen parks or highway roadside parks along the path.  Much of the path along the canal is surrounded by trees, which is not the case on highway portions of the trail.  When there are covered picnic tables you tend to take advantage of them.  And when there is a shade tree over a picnic table, you take advantage of that also.

During the hay day of the canal, trees did not line its banks.  Remember that mules and horses had to tow the boats, so there could not be obstructions between the towpath and the boats on the canal.  Occasionally boats would meet each other while traveling in opposite directions.  A right of way pattern was established that allowed a team of mules or horses to cross on the lower and closer side of the canal while the other team crossed higher.

Dirt that had been in the path of the canal was dug up and thrown to the side to create the towpath.  There are portions of the canal where dirt was brought up from both sides of the towpath to create the towpath.  It is in these areas that the canal is actually higher than the surrounding earth.

My ride ended in Rome, New York at Fort Stanwix.  This is me about ten minutes after I arrived.  Though the trail crossed some fairly busy streets in Rome, most of the trail was on side streets with very little traffic.

Most of the people that I met on the trail were recreational day users out for their daily run or ride.  But, there were exceptions.  I met a couple on a tandem bicycle traveling from New Hampshire to Buffalo.  They were stopping along the way visiting the various museums along the way and staying in motels and bed and breakfasts.  I also met a man who was backpacking to Ohio.  “Handlebar” was a 70 year-old retired tech firm founder and wore a kilt.  In both cases we stopped and chatted with each other and exchanged trail information and used the chance to visit as an excuse to rest a bit.

The two pictures here are of me at the beginning of my ride and at the end of the ride.  You can see that I am no worse for wear.  Though I lost seven pounds over the three day ride I am certain that most of the weight loss was water.  That is in spite of the fact that I was constantly drinking water during the ride.

Would I do it again?  I suppose so.  In fact, I am hoping to do a 35 mile stretch later in October between Rome and Herkimer, New York.  I'm hoping I can talk a few friends into coming along with me.  Would I do the same stretch again?  Probably not except for the stretch between Syracuse and Rome.  Too much of the trail was on the highway between Lyons and Port Byron, New York.

Why I Cannot Support Donald Trump at Present

I previously wrote why I cannot vote for Hillary Clinton for President.  When I did so, I mentioned two key attributes that are important to me.  They are character and competence.  Those two attributes trump (please forgive the use of the word “trump” in this sentence) the next important motivation for voting for a candidate.  That motivation deals with alignment of a candidate’s platform with what I would like to see a president do while in office.

Let me begin with character.  I’ll end there, too.

When speaking of Hillary Clinton I described her demeanor behind the scenes and how different it is when she is in front of a camera or a crowd.  I do not have the benefit of first-hand, personal observation of Mr. Trump.  What I’ve seen on public display, however, provides me with enough information to draw some conclusions.

First of all, his public use of profanity is not even close to that of Clinton’s private language.  That does not excuse his language.  His public use of profanity tells me that he is insensitive to others.  It is not the kind of language I would expect from a national leader let alone someone who is going to be on the world stage and a leader of the free world.  While I want a president who is a straight shooter, I believe it is important that presidential language should reflect the values of the represented society.  Though it seems profanity is the norm these days, I don’t think our republic wants a president who depends upon shock value to get what s/he wants.  In fact, I think the leaders of most other countries will find it offensive.  Well, maybe the president of the Philippines might not find it offensive.

I believe he is a narcissistic personality.  While he says that he wants to make America great again, that is exactly the problem.  HE wants to make America great again.  Whether or not you believe that America is no longer great is not the issue (personally I believe we’ve lost our greatness but I don’t see anybody else stepping up to the plate).  It is all about him and what he will do as President.  Don’t get me wrong, every presidential candidate stumps on what he or she will do as President, but his campaign is too much about him.

His marital infidelity speaks volumes.  First there was the affair with Marla Maples while married to his first wife.  Then, to quote Mr. Trump in his book The Art of the Comeback: “If I told the real stories of my experiences with women, often seemingly very happily married and important women, this book would be a guaranteed best-seller” (http://www.nationalreview.com/ corner/430381/donald-trump-ben-sasse-twitter-question-marital-infidelity).

On the plus side, Trump appears to be very social and ambitious, attributes that should make for a good president.  He also appears to be purpose driven.  However, I believe he is a bit roguish – no, a lot roguish.  He downplays past mistakes with a shrug of the shoulders.  His past business dealings may have been completely legal, e.g., bankruptcy (at least four), but I wonder about his multiple use of bankruptcy laws.  Just because something is legal doesn’t make it right.  Perhaps a single bankruptcy can be excused, but multiple claims wave a red flag in the face of character in  my humble opinion.

Along with being roguish, I think he is a thrill-seeker.  There is nothing wrong with being a thrill-seeker.  There is social science research that points to this particular common attribute among police officers and criminals.  I note that one of those two groups keeps its thrill-seeking within the bounds of the law in the vast majority of occasions.  In Mr. Trump’s case, I believe his thrill-seeking is reckless and with little regard for the consequences to others.

One characteristic I would like to see in a President is the ability to make quick decisions based on available data.  His public behavior suggests to me that he really doesn’t think things through before he shoots off at the mouth.  He doesn’t seem too concerned about details.  As much as he doesn’t seem too concerned about details I question his concern for others.  I think this falls in line with his narcissistic personality.  As President he will be the boss and will give the orders, but good bosses listen to their subordinates and rely on their expertise.  I think that Trump is so self-centered that he will not take the advice of subordinates.  I see that as a major character flaw.

I have no problem with people who want to make their living in real estate; however, when that real estate involves casinos I have a problem.  Just because gambling seems to be America’s favorite pastime doesn’t mean that it is right to make money off the backs of others.  If you choose to gamble, that’s your business, but I’ve seen too many losers at the tables that translated into losers with the mortgage, bills, and feeding and clothing families.  And any addiction to gambling is too many addictions.  To build and front a casino where this happens is simply morally wrong in my humble opinion.  You are entitled to your own opinion on gambling.  If you have an opposing view on this issue you are welcome to share it on your own blog or Facebook timeline.

I find him to be duplicitous.  He appears to say what he wants to say at the time he says it in order to gain the favor of the people he is speaking to, which on its face appears to be contrary to what he has told others.  I use the word appears above with caution.  Not having seen his complete stance on issues I may not understand how things he has said in one setting dovetails with something different he has said elsewhere.

I want to add a favorable comment here about a couple of specific issues that I believe many people have wrong about Trump.  Contrary to popular opinion, I do not believe Trump to be racist.  I also believe that in his professional business dealings that he treats women as fairly as he does men.  I’m fairly certain that what he says about women does not accurately reflect his behavior in a business or professional setting.  If elected as President of the United States I fully expect him to have multiple women serving in cabinet and deputy cabinet level positions and that he will relate to them the way he will relate to men at those and lower levels of government.

The title of my remarks here is Why I Cannot Support Donald Trump at Present.  I want to emphasize the last two words in that title: at Present.  The jury is still out on Mr. Trump for me.  Right now I cannot support him simply based upon his character.  He’s loud and boisterous and very self-centered.  He appears to be erratic.  He shows little concern for others, but unlike his primary opponent, at least he is publicly showing it. 

At the risk of sounding like Donald Rumsfeld, there are things we know about both Trump and Clinton and we know that there are things that we don’t know about the two of them.  But with Clinton, we don’t know what we don’t know.  As Rumsfeld said, there are unknown unknowns.  I think his remarks about knowns and unknowns are referred to as the Johari Window or something like that.  I find that to be a dangerous political minefield.