Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Another Veteran's Day

Freedom.  Service.  America.  Veteran's Day.  Many of Daddy's Navy photos from WW II in Pacific make me stop and think about serving our country and what that really means. The first photo of Daddy in a school or orphanage or who knows what in China, I believe shows a side of service to country to help citizens caught in crossfire of war. To care.

The second, unloading of a tank while the men peer over the back of the ship represents things to come and planning for the what ifs.  Those soldiers are perhaps filled with excitement, awe, fear, regret, pride....probably every emotion possible.

The third photo, of Chinese (I believe) soldiers, exhibits during that time of this war reaching across the oceans on a common cause.  Partnerships built to help people, cultures, belief systems to do what's right and just.  Stop evilness from pervading the world.

I do not bring politics to my page.  I bring pride of a country, pride of the past and immense love and pride and awe toward a man from a little community called Soak in Monroe County.  Daddy.  Glenn J. Maynard. A man who loved his country so much he stood up to help defend her.

"Politics" should consists of emotions and practices from things represented in the photos.  Not from some who have an entitlement feeling of power to control situations which benefit a few.  But instead from those who actually feel unworthy of the position God placed them in to serve many and would also humbly bleed to provide for those in "politics".

I know my sisters would agree Daddy was a great man.  A man I can almost guarantee did not want to leave small Corntassel to travel across America and a sea to a foreign country. But a man, through that trial, taught me you always have to at least try to do what's right.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015


After our brush with death of driving off of 441 and then meeting Falling Rock up close and personal I layed down in the back seat to rest.  Thirty minutes later Chris slams the brakes and yells "here's your bear Marna". I jumped straight up almost into the front seat.  There. Was. No. Bear.  Disappointed ran threw me.  Chris told his mom "I knew that would get her up".

Chris stopped in Pigeon Forge for a carmel apple.  I guess he felt bad about tricking me about the bear.  He bought me a little bitty tiny black bear to make up for the fact I didn't see hide nor hair of one.

Driving 441 in basically unsafe conditions

Crossing 441 in the darkening of night during a slight rain in the middle of the "smoke" of the Smoky's at the very top?  Not a very good idea.  Visionability gone in a split second with a flash of thoughts of driving off the mountain to your death, much like Uncas and Alice in "The Last of the Mohicans".

You can see NOTHING in a split minute and somehow, somehow, thank the Good Lord, come to rest in a pull off near Clingman's Dome. The car behind you never seen again.

Your husband taking the wheel isn't much better.  The curves of 441 are nothing like our Cherokee mountains and he should never think something across the road is a branch.  Ummm....hence the warning signs of "Falling Rock" everywhere you turn.  Maybe we should have let Nana drive last night.  Bless it.  She remained amazingly calm while gripping the hound outta the door handle.

The unfair part?  I drove the climb up from North Carolina during the mess of weather.  Chris driving down on the Tennessee side?  Clear as a bell.  Except for that fallen rock he ran over, which wasn't a branch, honey.