It Felt Like A Shot In The Dark

On Christmas Day in 2008, my brother and I received word that our Uncle Kenneth had gone to be with the Lord. He had courageously fought cancer, but the prognosis wasn’t favorable.

A few months before, I had visited with him in Houston at the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. He was referred there by his physician in Odessa. My aunt Maxine and cousin, Becky, were present at the hospital at the time of my visit. My uncle and his family seemed pleased that I was there. Ours was a close relationship and I was pleased that I carved out time to make the visit.

Because our relationship with my dad’s brother and his family was forged in the kind of love that lasts a lifetime, my brother Larry and I wanted to be present to support our Aunt Maxine and two cousins and their families. Consequently, we stayed in Odessa a couple or three days rather than hurrying in and out.

It was also good to share time with Larry. At some point, he laughingly said to me something closely akin to: “Kay tells me that I am just like you. I now see what she’s talking about. You walk around in a fog part of the time. You focus on one thing and like a dog chewing on a bone you can’t let go of it. In the process, you are oblivious to a lot of other things.”

That felt like a shot in the dark that came out of nowhere. I wasn’t sure that it was the highest of compliments. Of course, I was oblivious to what he was talking about. I know what you’re thinking. By my acknowledging that, I have substantiated that I am guilty as charged. Larry and I are like two peas in a pod.

Yesterday, Larry and I connected by telephone. At the time the General was in the car with me and the call was on the speaker. About 30 seconds after beginning our conversation, Kay got in the car with Larry. They were going to church and of course, Larry wanted to get to church 45 minutes early because he was teaching the class.

Some reference was made to the fact that Larry and I are just alike. I should have said: “That is the highest of compliments.” I didn’t think that fast.

I did respond: “While that may be true, has it occurred to anyone that the General and Kay are just alike? Larry laughed out loud. I suspect that he has thought the same thing. Larry and I are obviously a couple of lucky guys. How’s that for covering my tracks?

We both married way outside our pay group and our wives provide a lot of structure and oversight. Our wives are loving, smart, independent, and self-confident. I suspect thy both employ the same techniques in garnering respect from their husbands.

Let me share a couple or three things that Treva has said to me to substantiate what I’m talking about because although I haven’t compared notes with my brother, I suspect it will be all too familiar:

• How about this for gentle redirection? “When you were growing up, I know your mother told you that ‘Be neat’ is a Biblical command. I don’t think it is one of the two-word verses in the Bible such as ‘Jesus wept,’ but you are going to pick up after yourself. I am not your mother.

• I’ve learned that when the General begins a sentence with: “If you were industrious, you would…, I need to pay very close attention. If I fail to follow the hint and become immediately industrious, there will be consequences that I’d probably prefer to avoid. I hate the sound of: “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times.”

• Another introductory sentence that merits close attention is: “I am going to ask that you not…”. To disregard that suggestion could be hazardous to your peace of mind. The most recent time I’ve heard the phrase: “I am going to ask that you not text on you phone if I can hear you pressing the keys.” Did I mention that the General hears everything?

There is no denying it, the General and Kay are very much alike. After all”

• They are consistently loving and a source of encouragement to their husbands.

• They are exceptional mothers and grandmothers and go out of their way to be supportive and loving to their extended family.

• They love their husband’s family of origin as though they were their own.

• This one is tongue-in-cheek: “They sometimes cook.” Anything for a laugh!

As a side note, for anyone to think I am just like my brother is to pay me the highest of compliments.

All the BEST!
Don

Brooks and Baxter Was Not The Name Of A Law Firm

I recently received a request from the chamber of commerce in Little Rock that the organization where I work schedule another conference in their town.  I doubt that we’ll plan on that anytime soon, but I have memories from 2019 of stories from Little Rock that have the makings of a bad dream.

On either side of the mezzanine and balcony at the historic Capitol Hotel [built in 1872] in downtown Little Rock, there are two stately rooms sharing the same name: “Brooks and Baxter”.  So what was that about? Initially, I didn’t know enough to ask the question. Later as I stood in front of the Old State House Museum in Little Rock (the previous Capitol building of Arkansas), the name Brooks and Baxter was shared with me by a colleague. I immediately wondered if the name was associated to a law firm?  

I don’t always get it right. “Wrong answer – no cigar” so to speak.  I noticed the cannon to my left perched on the large, manicured lawn. At the time, I didn’t know that the cannon was endearingly referred to as Lady Baxter.

That being said, the man providing the dialogue referenced the name of the rooms we had seen earlier at the Capitol Hotel and said: “Brooks and Baxter had a duel in the Old State House”.  It was a stupid question on my part, but I asked: “Did they both walk away?” Duh! Obviously not!  At least one of the guys was a better shot than the other.  Only one of the two guys walked away or so I’m told.

We looked at other places in downtown and as we made our way back in the direction from which we came, I stopped in front of the Old State House to take a picture. The colleague who had shared the information regarding the duel, said: “We can go inside if you like. It doesn’t cost anything.” Immediately, I had the thought: “I met this guy yesterday and already he has pegged me as being cheap”.  I guess you could say: “It is what it is?” 

In some respects, I’m a history buff. Even more importantly, there is nothing I like better than a good story. With that thought in mind, I walked inside the building. It only took a moment, but it became clear instantly that no one has the knack of sharing stories like one of the staff personnel in the Old State Museum. When she asked if she could help, I said I was curious: “Did a duel really take place in the Old State House?” Her response surprised me: “Oh, there’s been more than one”.  

From the look on my face, she could tell that I was shocked.  Georgia may be known for the sound of dueling banjos, but a duel at the Capitol building in Arkansas has to garner more notoriety than a shoot-out at the O.K. Corral in Arizona or anything associated to the sound of dueling banjos.

I guess, back in the day, if a gentleman took offense, one of the two parties could be dead wrong. The staff person at the Old State Museum said:“I can tell you about the most frequently talked about duel”.  Intuitively, I knew it had to be Brooks and Baxter.  I was wrong again – no cigar.  Reportedly, the duel didn’t include pistols.

Though I would never have guessed the forum for conflict resolution, the Speaker of the House Colonel John Wilson and Representative Major Joseph Anthony Arkansas chose to whittle out a resolution to their conflict by using knives.  The act of savagery took place on December 4, 1837.

Actually, it really wasn’t a duel. Representative Anthony was viciously attacked.

His response was an attempt to defend himself after being stabbed by the Speaker of the House over a disagreement concerning surplus tax on wolf pelts.  Representative Anthony was holding his own until someone tossed a chair between the two in an attempt to stop the brawl.  Representative Anthony tripped and fell over the chair.

Long story short, the Speaker of the House was expelled from office and subsequently tried for murder.  Disturbingly, no action was taken against Colonel Wilson for three days until a family member of Representative Anthony complained. Colonel Wilson had a host of friends and supporters who showed up and took his side in the issue. At his murder trial, the jury rendered a verdict of “guilty of excusable homicide.” 

The truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.

All My Best!

Don

We Are Now A Gold Star Family

Yesterday’s Memorial Day was a first for us. We are now a Gold Star Family. Although my brother’s plane went down 27 December 1972, he was listed as Missing In Action until his remains were identified in December 2023. [For a brief time during President Carter’s Administration, MIAs were routinely changed to “Killed in Action/Body Not Recovered.”]

At the time of that change, our family was adamantly opposed to Ronnie’s classification being altered. For years, the rhetoric of the miliary to our family was that it was our responsibility to maintain hope for our loved one. For the record, we didn’t need to be told to do that. It was second nature for us. I’m sure that is universally true for other MIA families as well.

When we pushed back on the decision for Ron’s classification to be changed, we were told in writing that the only way we could block the change was to provide proof that Ronnie was still alive.

It felt like “righteous indignation” from my perspective. Yet, there was nothing our family could do to alter the outcome. Ron’s status was changed from MIA. In so doing, I lost a lot of respect for the federal government. I was furious!

Interestingly, the following year, Congress changed the designation of those newly identified as Killed In Action/Body Not Recovered back to MIA. Obviously, ours was not the only family for whom the change felt like a brutal assault.

In December 2023, when there was conclusive evidence that Ronnie was Killed In Action, our family categorically became a Gold Star Family. We have lived with a sense of loss for 51 years. We have been a Gold Star Family for six months.

By definition, a “Gold Star Family” is one that has experienced a loss of a loved one-an immediate family member – who died as the result of active-duty military service. Those who die in service to their country leave behind parents, siblings, spouses, children and extended families. Those are recognized as Gold Star Families.

The designation goes back as far as WWI, but the gold star button was not designed until 1947. I recognize that tradition and military culture have a way of etching tradition into stone, but being a Gold Star Family Member doesn’t feel any differently than having a loved one who is MIA.

It is not my intent to ruffle feathers, but I think the definition of a Gold Star Family needs to be broadened. For 51 years our family lived with the painful awareness of Ronnie’s loss. It is a huge relief to know conclusively, that he is on the other side of eternity.

I believe that the families of MIAs should have the same recognition as a Gold Star Families. The loss is identical! I’m sure that many would disagree with me because of tradition and circumstance, but I maintain that my assessment is accurate.

So, if that change is not going to be made, the government should have to substantiate to the family that their loved one is still alive.

Yesterday, the General and I attended a Memorial Day Ceremony in the City of Lakeway. Karoni, Ronnie’s daughter, was on the program. She invited us to attend, and we wanted to show our support. The location of the ceremony was Emmaus Catholic Church. The architectural features of the church are magnificent.

The attendance was also impressive. So was the program. We left with a sense of gratitude for those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice to provide freedom and protection for our country.

All My Best!
Don

In Memory of Ronnie

Eight or nine years ago, I was invited to speak at a Memorial Day Ceremony in Nocona. Nocona is the small town where my brother and I were born. I was both honored and humbled by the invitation.

Truth be told, receiving the invitation created some anxiety on my part. I used to have a fear of public speaking. I’ve pretty much worked through that. However, I had never spoken at a Memorial Day Ceremony before and I had no idea even where to begin. I wanted to get it right.

Ronnie and I were born at Major Clinic Hospital in Nocona. That was longer ago than I care to remember. I know the name of the hospital only because it is written on my birth certificate.

My cousin who lives in Nocona sent me a note a three-or-four days before Memorial Day. She wanted to let me know that an announcement of the event was in the newspaper. Apparently, there wasn’t much news to report. The article was on the front page. The headline in bold letters said: “Twin Brother of MIA To Speak…” That raised my anxiety even more.

It’s true, my drawing card for the invitation was linked to my brother’s story. That made perfect sense. The invitation extended me, provided both a sense of privilege and humility. Yet, it was not just Ronnie’s story I was sharing. It was our story.

As twins, the fabric of our lives were so closely interwoven that we shared blended identities. With a tear or two in my eyes, I took seriously the responsibility to get it right.

The top of my Facebook page includes a picture of me and Ronnie along with our younger brother. The picture was taken about the time Ronnie and I started to elementary school. At least, that’s my best guess.

Most people probably thought were cute kids when we were little. During adolescence, my twin told me more than once that I was ugly. I always thought that was funny because he was a mirror image. He also playfully added that I was adopted.

It was all a part of the playful banter that went back and forth between us. We were close. We were also competitive. We looked identical, but in many respects, we were as different as night and day.

On 27 December 1972, the playful banter between us stopped. The A-6 Intruder aircraft in which Ronnie was flying left the military base in Nam Phong, Thailand for a night mission over North Vietnam. When the aircraft failed to return to the base at the anticipated hour, efforts were made to locate the downed plane but to no avail. At least that is what the report provided us by the military said. In recent years we learned that no reconnaissance efforts were employed. His status was changed to MIA.

As probably all of you are aware, our family was notified this past December that my brother’s remains had been identified. His crash site was excavated in the spring of 2023. I honestly had reached the place that I no longer allowed myself to hope that we’d ever have more information. Receiving the news was clearly an answer to prayers that had been prayed years ago.

So, after 51 years of not knowing if my brother was dead or alive, I finally had confidence that he was more alive than he’s ever been because he has been in the presence of Jesus all these years. It was as though a weight I’d been carrying for a very long time was finally lifted.

Yet, even amid a life-long struggle of uncertainty, at no time was I a stranger to God’s grace. For over five decades, I experienced and re-experienced every possible range of emotion. Through it all, I never experienced it in isolation.

The promises of God provided comfort and hope.

I was honored to speak at church yesterday in our pastor’s absence. The message had to do with the importance of trusting God. The narrative I’ve just shared is my introduction.

I asked my son-in-law Kevin if he would video the message. I wanted to post it in memory of my brother.

All My Best!
Don

I’m Mad Too Eddie!

It is not my intent to be a cranky old man, but it may be too late. My driver’s license expires tomorrow. Last week, the General looked at setting an appointment for me and found that appointments few and far between. Prior to COVID, you could walk into a DPS office and wait your turn in line. The way I see it, most Americans returned to business as usual a couple of years ago. Not so with the Texas DPS.

A friend recently said, “The best place to go to renew your driver’s license is New Braunfels.” She added that the DPS building is large, and the employees are friendly. I had the General check, and they don’t have an open appointment time until late June. Did I mention this is the middle of March? We checked another locality, and they are booked until sometime in August.

I recognize that it may be a while before I am able to drive. I will need to be free of the orthopedic boot before I get behind the wheel. Of course, in a perfect world I could shed the boot and wear house shoes in the car and drive just fine. I’m going to float that idea with my doctor next week.

I have not driven in the past 2 ½ months. That means the General, who hates to drive, is behind the wheel. I promise you, that is not a good experience for either of us! I need an “I’m Mad Too Eddie” bumper sticker.

Eddie Childs, was reportedly a cantankerous, colorful, hard-nosed business man. Reportedly, “Chiles was politically to the right of Attila the Hun and ironically inspired by the crazed anchorman prophet, Howard Beale. Every night Beale would scream at the cameras, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

Eddie Childs picked up the banter. He took to the radio waves with a similar proclamation: “I’m Eddie Childs and I’m mad! Then he would go off on a rant about his three favorite topics: big government, big government, and big government.”

Please hear me say, I’m Don Forrester and tomorrow I turn seventy-seven years of age. Driving two lane country road with the rag top down on my Miata relaxes me. Currently I’m wound up tighter than a eight day clock and the “appointment only stance” of the DPS makes me madder than Eddie Childs.

All My Best!
Don