The Captain

Photo courtesy http://titanicmemories.blogspot.com.

Wow!  She's such a beauty and she's all mine.
What a chance to sail for the White Star Line.
Flaunting four funnels placed all in a row;
Four city blocks long with tugboats in tow.
Dropping the anchor twenty horses hauled.
I check my log for our first port of call.
We stop in Cherbourg, Southampton and Cork.
Now we're steaming on cue towards New York.
What a lovely evening; the stars are out.
It's the perfect night for a walkabout.
That crisp, fresh air makes me ready for bed.
But how about a cup of tea instead?
WAIT!  What was that awful, terrible crash?
The stewards tell me her side has a gash!
What should I do here?  What words should I say?
Should I take action or should I just pray?
They told me her compartments were airtight.
Yet it seems as if we're sinking tonight.
They told me there were no icebergs to check
Yet I see pieces of ice on the deck.
Can I save my stately ship from demise?
Should I tell the truth or a bunch of lies?
Water's filling our hold due to the blast.
Where are the rowboats?  Let's fill them up fast!
Let all womena and children get off first.
Another boiler is about to burst.
My S.O.S. is getting me nowhere;
That fool's completely ignoring our flares.
I should have retired when I had the chance.
Now I hear the brass band play the last dance.
There aren't enough lifeboats for everyone.
Will my ship last 'til the rise of the sun?
We've only a short time left on this boat.
With so much water, we won't stay afloat.
I pray my passengers' lives you will spare.
Losing my crew would be too much to bear.
Please forgtive me for this awful mistake!
Make it a nightmare from which I'll awake!

Linda Jonasson, August 1, 2006.

Painting courtesy http://4.bp.blogspot.com.

Oklahoma Land Rush

Unlike Rome, the city of Guthrie was built in a day. To be strictly accurate in the matter, it might be said that it was built in an afternoon. At twelve o'clock on Monday, April 22d, the resident population of Guthrie was nothing; before sundown it was at least ten thousand. In that time streets had been laid out, town lots staked off, and steps taken toward the formation of a municipal government. At twilight the camp-fires of ten thousand people gleamed on the grassy slopes of the Cimarron Valley, where, the night before, the coyote, the gray wolf, and the deer had roamed undisturbed.
(William Willard Howard, Harper's Weekly 33, May 18, 1889.)

Thousands of covered wagons made their way west to the promised land in the weeks leading up to the Oklahoma Land Rush.  Formerly called "Indian Territory", the Indians had named it Oklahoma, meaning "beautiful land".  However, the American government had forced the Indians out and was making almost 2 million acres of cheap land available to whites from the east.  Fifty-thousand of these migrants set up tent cities right on the edge of the Oklahoma border preparing for the land rush.

April 22, 1889 dawned sunny and clear.  The land hungry "boomers" lined the border on foot, on horseback and in buggies.  A solodier gave a bugle call at high noon and the race began.  Riders spread out in all directions like a fan.  One man ran along the railroad tracks for six miles in 60 minutes, claimed his piece of land, and then collapsed.  Ohters arrived at their destination, like a fertile piece of land along a creek, only to find that a "sooner" had already claimed the land illegally days before. 

The first train arrived in Oklahoma territory at 12:25, its eight passenger cars packed like sardines.  The prospective land owners were disappointed to see the slope of land to the east already dotted with white tents and sprinkled with men. 

Like Guthrie, other towns sprung up that day including Norman, Kingfisher and Oklahoma City.  By 1907, Oklahoma would achieve statehood.  The land rush was a unique part of America's history:  for future land claims the government would adopt a lottery system.

Painting courtesy http://events.oucpm.org.

The Girl in the Picture

"Television brought the brutality of war into the comfort of the living room. Vietnam was lost in the living rooms of America--not on the battlefields of Vietnam." (Marshall McLuhan, 1975)


I heard Kim Phuc speak at Redeemer College tonight.  She is the girl in the famous picture from the Vietnam War, showing her running out of her village, the clothes burned right off of her back, screaming in pain from the napalm burning her skin from the American bombs that were dropped.  Running beside her are her brothers and cousins, her aunt bringing up the rear with a baby in her arms, also burned badly from the napalm bombs.  The photographer who snapped the photo on that tragic day, Mr. Nut, would win the Pulitzer Prize for his work.  Kim Phuc would survive and attempt to go on to live a "normal" life, but she would forever be known as "the girl in the picture".

It was June 8, 1972 in a small village in South Vietnam.  An American military officer had been given the word that all civilians had been evacuated from the village and he gave the order to strike.  Four napalm bombs dropped on to the innocent victims that day.  One by one they came running through the black smoke to escape the inferno.  Most of them were children and most of them had clothes on their back, except for Kim Phuc and her baby cousin.  Sadly, the baby would die shortly after of his wounds. 

The photographer dropped his camera, scooped up Kim and rushed her to the local hospital where they attempted to treat her, but gave up after three days and were about to send her to the morgue.  However, someone intervened and believing that she could still be helped, sent her to the hospital in Saigon.  It was there that they performed surgery and saved Kim's life.  Over the course of 14 months, Kim underwent 13 surgeries.  Day after day, they would immerse her in a bath, and day after day she would cringe from the pain.  Slowly, the dead skin came off and new skin grew in its place.  Kim's Mom refused to let her give up, always encouraging her to do her exercises and take part in her therapy.  With her left arm badly burned, it was curled up originally, but Kim was able to regain use of her arm muscles. 

In 1982, Kim travelled to East Germany to have her final surgery, enabling her to move her neck again.  Although she would still endure pain, Kim had come a lot way physically.  However, spiritually she still had a long way to go.  Like a cup of black coffee, she was filled with bitterness towards the person who had done this to her, asking herself "why me?" 

In the meantime, she got the opportunity to live in Cuba and study medicine at the University of Havana.  It was there that she discovered the Bible, hiding a New Testament in her room and reading it at every opportunity.  She read it voraciously, soaking up Scripture verses like Luke 6:27-28:  "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, ²⁸ bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you."  She accepted Jesus Christ as her Saviour and for the first time, she had room in her heart for forgiveness.  Slowly, she started to forgive the man who had ordered the bombs dropped on her village that day. 

It was also in Cuba that she met her future husband.  They married on September 11, 1992.  As Cuba was Communist, they were only allowed to honeymoon in other Communist countries so they applied to travel to Moscow.  Kim got a kick out of the fact that they only approved her husband to go on the honeymoon, but with some persuasion, she was allowed to accompany him.  On the way home from Moscow, they had a scheduled stop in Gander, Newfoundland to refuel.  The newlywed couple left the plane and never got back on, seeking asylum in Canada. 

Kim Phuc and her new husband settled in Toronto.  Kim had a baby boy named Thomas.  Three years later, she was invited to the Vietnam War Memorial ceremony in Washington D.C.  There she spoke about her war experience and how through her faith in God, she had been able to forgive her American oppressors. 

Many in the crowd were moved by her message, including a veteran who was there on that fateful day:  the man who ordered the napalm bomb attack on her village.  He requested that he speak to her after the ceremony and the meeting was arranged.  Kim looked into his eyes and told him that she forgave him.  In that moment, the veteran felt like "the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders".  A recovering alcoholic who had struggled through more than one failed marriage, these were the words that he needed to hear.  Kim and the veteran became dear friends:  they had come full circle. 

N.B.  Kim Phuc wrote her life story called The Girl in the Picture in 2000.

Warsaw Ghetto Uprising

THE COUNTERATTACK ("KONTRATAK")

Peacefully they walked to the train,
Sick and tired of the daily battle,
Doggedly gaze into the brutal eyes did
The cattle.
The handsome officers gloated
That they are bothered by nothing,
That with a dull step the hordes are marching,
And only for diversion
The whips cracked,
Slashing their faces!
The throng in silence sank to the ground,
Before it dissolved in sobs in cattle cars,
Their blood and tears,
Trickling into the sandy ground,
And the Herrenvolk
Carelessly tossed
little boxes
on the corpses--
"Warum sind Juno rund."
Then, on that day,
When on the Stimmung lulled city
They pounced like hyenas in dawn's early mist,
Then the cattle awakened
And
Bared its teeth . . .
On Miťa Street the first shot was heard,
A gendarme staggered at the gate,
He stared surprised--stood still for a moment,
Patted his shattered arm--
Didn't believe it.
Something is not right,
Everything went so smooth and straight,
As a favor, because of special influence,
He was turned back from the Eastern Front
(Had a few satisfying days),
Rested in Warsaw,
Driving this cattle in an Aktion,
And cleaning up this pigsty,
But here,
On Mi~la street, BLOOD
The gendarme pulled back from the gate
And swore: I'm really bleeding,
But here Braunings were barking
On Niska,
On Dzika,
On Pawia.
On the crooked stairway,
Where an old mother
Was dragged by the hair,
Lies SS-man Handtke,
Strangely puffed up,
As if he couldn't digest death,
As if he choked on the revolt.
He belched, spitting up blood
Into the little box –“Juno sind rund,
Rund, rund.
Golden epaulets crush the dust,
Everything spins around,
The sky-blue uniform lies
On the spittle-covered stairs
Of the Jewish Pawia Street
And doesn't know
That at Schultz and Toebbens
Bullets whirl in a joyous song,
REVOLT OF THE MEAT,
REVOLT OF THE MEAT,
REVOLT OF THE MEAT!
Meat spits grenades out the windows.
Meat belches out scarlet flames
And clings to the edges of life!
Hey! What joy to shoot in the eye!
THIS IS THE FRONT, MY LORDS!
THE FRONT - GENTLEMEN SHIRKERS
HIER
TRINK MAN MEHR BIER,
HEIR
HIER HAT MAN MEHR KEIN MUT,
BLUT
BLUT
BLUT!
Peal off the fair, smooth, leather gloves,
Put your whips aside and helmets on.
Tomorrow issue a press release:
"Penetrated the lines of Toebbens' block.
Revolt of the meat,
REVOLT OF THE MEAT,
SONG OF THE MEAT!

Hear, O German God,
How the Jews, in the "wild" houses pray,
Clenching in the fist a stick, a stone.
We beg you, O God, for a bloody battle,
We implore you for a violent death,
Let our eyes not see, before we expire,
The stretch of the train tracks,
But let the precise aim of our hand, O Lord,
Stain their livid uniforms with blood,
Let us see, before the mute groan
Shreds our throats,
Our simple human fear in their
Haughty hands, in their whip-wielding paws.
From Niska, Mi-la, and Muranowska Streets,
Like scarlet flowers of blood,
Sprout the flames of our gunbarrels.
This is our Spring! Our Counterattack!
The intoxication of our battle!
These are our partisan forests:
The alleys of Dzika and Ostrowska Streets.
"Block" numbers quiver on breasts,
Medals of the Jewish war.
The cry of six letters flashes in red,
Like a battering ram bellows the word: REVOLT
.................................................
.................................................
And on the street, the bloodied.
Trampled packet:
JUNO SIND RUND.

Written by Wladyslaw Szlengel
Translated by Frieda A. Aazon

Photo of Nazis rounding up Jews in Warsaw Ghetto courtesy http://fcit.usf.edu/holocaust.

The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising started in early 1943, but the bulk of the fighting took place between April 19 and May 16, 1943.  Jews had been rounded up by the Nazis in Poland's large cities and placed in ghettoes of which Warsaw's was the largest at 300,000 to 400,000.  Thousands had already died of disease due to malnutrition and starvation. 

Photo of Jews being deported in cattle cars out of Warsaw courtesy www.ushmm.org.

At first, when the Nazis started to deport the Jews, they did not formally protest, thinking they were going to labour camps.  However, once they discovered that the deportation trains were taking them to extermination camps like Treblinka (250,000 to 300,000 perished) they fought back.  The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising was the largest single revolt by Jews during the Holocaust.

Photo of Warsaw Ghetto Uprising 1943 courtesy http://collections.yadvashem.org.

The Polish poet Wladyslaw Szlengel wrote "Kontratak" in response to the Jewish armed resistance against the Nazis.  During the Spring of 1943, when the uprising was at its height, Szlengel's poem became the ghetto's "anthem".  Sadly, he died during the uprising.  His poem was found later hidden between the leaves of a table in the ghetto.

Photo of Warsaw Ghetto Uprising 1943 courtesy http://upload.wikimedia.org.

Tom Longboat

Thomas Charles Longboat, an Onondaga Indian, was born on the Six Nations Reserve outside Brantford on June 4, 1887.  In 1905 he started participating in foot races.  That year he won the Victoria Day race in Caledonia, Ontario.  In 1906, he won the Around the Bay Road Race in Hamilton.  He peaked in 1907, winning the Boston Marathon in a time of 2:24:24, almost five minutes faster than any previous winner.  In 1909, he won another race to become Professional Champion of the World.  He also won the Ward Marathon.

Tom married his sweetheart.  Then he went overseas to serve as a dispatch runner in France during World War I.  Sadly, he was declared dead and his wife remarried.  Tom returned to Canada in peacetime and later remarried as well, having four children with his new wife. 

He had an encore performance when he ran in the Dominion Day race of 1918, winning first prize.  He spent several years working in Toronto and then retired to Six Nations where he died from pneumonia on January 9, 1949.  He was inducted into the Canadian Sports Hall of Fame.

Photo of Tom Longboat with Ward Marathon Trophy courtesy www.brbmg.com.

The San Francisco Earthquake

Arnold Genthe's famous photo looking towards fire on Sacramento Street courtesy http://en.wikipedia,org.

On the morning of April 18, 1906, San Francisco residents felt the earth shake for a matter of seconds,  but it felt like an eternity.  Shaking was felt as far north as Oregon, as far south as Los Angeles and as far east as central Nevada as the Richter Scale peaked at 8.25.  When the earth stood still,  490 city blocks had been destroyed, 30 fires had been set and 80% of the city had been obliterated.  The Salinas river outlet was permanently diverted six miles to the south.  Up to 300,000 San Franciscans were rendered homeless out of a total 410,000 residents aand the death toll would reach 3000.

Photo of titled houses courtesy http://en.wikipedia.org.

Makeshift tents were set up for the displaced persons; these refugee camps would remain in operation a full two years after the quake.  The United States Army was called in to build temporary housing camps, helping immensely.  However, members of the 22nd Infantry Regiment took the chance to loot during the massive fire.  Although many stayed, many also fled the flattened city in droves, causing trade and industry to leave as well.  Once the biggest city on the West Coast, San Francisco would lose this title to Los Angeles.  

Photo of San Francisco exodus courtesy http://0.tqn.com.

Seek the Truth

It is difficult to be in the world but not of the world as our pastor says.  Yes, we live here on Earth with an earthly body with all of its imperfections.  We all sin.  And we sometimes suffer the consequences of those sins.  We have the comforting thought, however, that if we believe in Jesus, He will wash away our sins.  Jesus says that we love because He first loved us.  We should forgive sinners because God forgives us. 

I agree that we should love others even if they have wronged us.  In fact, Jesus says that we should pray for our enemies.  However, there is a big difference between loving the sinner and loving the sin.  Our world today wants to pretend that if we reject the sin we are rejecting the sinner.  That is so wrong!  If that were the case, we would never love anyone because everyone sins. 

We live in a time where so many people believe "You're okay I'm okay" -- as if other people's actions or choices don't affect anyone else.  It might work that way if we each lived in a bubble.  However, we're part of a much larger society.  The golden rule still applies:  Love thy neighbour as thyself.  But the rule doesn't say:  Love thy neighbour's sin. 

As we live our daily lives, we should distinguish between right and wrong.  We should always seek the truth.  We shouldn't be buying into what is politically correct.  Notice the churches today that are thriving are not the politically correct ones (they are dying a slow death) but the churches whose pastors preach the Gospel -- the truth.  "You will know the truth and the truth shall set you free." (John 8:32)

Photo courtesy http://outreachmedia.org.