The Story of Savannah - unloved - Andersonville Blues

Apparently, the line in the Waterboy is correct..."You see son, you lack the social skills...that's why no one loves you, 'cept your momma."
Apparently that is the same vibe I am getting when it comes to my little Pekinese Dog named Savannah, or as I like to call him, "Saint" Savannah.  Seems that although Savannah may lack some social skills, he is loved by me - his daddy.  And I think it ends there.

Bath day is rough

First, let's be straight, Savannah is the coolest dog ever.  Like the picture above clearly shows.  When ya gotta go - ya gotta go - and he does.  Quite frequently in places where he shouldn't go.  But look, is this not the perfect place to baptize the lawn of a brand new house?  And now - the poor little guy can't find his bone so he is sitting at the edge of the bed - AND IT'S ONLY MIDNIGHT - and barking.  He will not stop barking until someone gets up and gets him his bone.  

Blessing Day

That means in the corporate world he would be a Lion of business because when he wants something he is going to get it and won't quit till he does.  So how is that bad?

We did have him blessed by the way.  The picture of him with the blue scarf is his blessing day picture.  (Some people say the blessing didn't take).

Andersonville - 1864

So where did this bundle of joy come from?  We were living at Fort Benning, GA and decided to take a trip over to Andersonville for a parade they were having.  (ADHD Moment coming)  Andersonville is the site of the notorious Civil War prison camp the Rebels of the South built.  They built the prison camp on a wide open field, 26+ acres, no shade, meant for around 5,000 Northern Prisoners it held up to 32,000 at one time in August of 1864.  In just 14 months 14,000 Men of the Grand Army of the Republic died.  Wonder where their water came from?  A stream ran through the lower end of the camp - problem was that also served as the latrine.  32,000 men?  A running stream?  And to top it off, UPSTREAM from the water was where the rebels corralled their horses.  So guess where the horse dung is going?  Right...prisoners used to say that if you wanted to live through Andersonville you should never go near that stream.  http://www.nps.gov/ande/index.htm.  Ditto for me on that one.  There's a huge cemetery there now and the National POW Museum also.  (Back to Reality - Squirrel is gone)

After the neutering

So after the parade we're walking around and darned if there is a lady with some puppies in cages in the park where they were also selling food.  I see these two little guys in a cage on the ground and go over to check them out.  One really little one sees me and gets on his hind legs and licks my hand like he just found his new master (he did).  But we already have a pup named Noel who really is a Saint.  So what to do?  Nothing - I had to be realistic.  But the obvious forlorn in my eyes must have gotten to the blessed lady because she put the call in and believe it or not found him - we didn't know the people - just some random calling.  So where was the boy?  Americus, GA.  Whole different city but we call, get directions and that next Saturday after Breakfast at Sloppy's downtown Diner where they have the best fried potatoes ever - we go to the address given and of all places it's a gas station.  But there in the back is my boy.  He remembered me of course.  (I have that way with all the animal world).

Gender issues at the RV Park in Maryland

The tongue is always present

 We pay  the money and the lady says, "by the way, he's a pedigree Pekinese."  Shazzam!!!  My boy has papers!  I had no idea but knew there was greatness in him.  We get him in the car and he's the happiest thing ever.
He does have gender issues since we named him Savannah.  I couldn't think of anything to name him except maybe Charlemagne, Napoleon or maybe Prince William owing to his pedigreed background.  We end up naming HIM Savannah because we had just paid a visit to Savannah, Georgia and had a good time - did NOT eat at Paula Deen's although I did get a picture of the place.

In the "Zone"  

The Pekingese has a colorful past full of superstition and folklore. Legend has it that the little dog was born to a lion and a marmoset. The Chinese believed that the breed was an earthly manifestation of mythical Foo Dog that drove away evil spirits. The Foo dogs that were around during that time resembled miniature lions, which was a religious symbol of Buddhism. The breeding of these “lion dogs” was a principal concern, and the resulting dogs were treated as royalty and continually pampered. They even had their own servants. The Emperor’s dogs were sacrificed and buried with him to join him in the afterlife. The Pekingese were so treasured by the royalty that punishment for stealing one was death.  In 1860, the breed finally made its way out of the palace, although even today it retains its need to be pampered.  This feisty little dog is independent and courageous – sometimes getting in over its head. It is opinionated and stubborn. The Pekingese will readily get into power struggles with its owner. It has even been known to stop eating as a way to show authority over its owner. It can also be difficult to housebreak. The Pekingese is devoted towards its family although it may not outwardly display affection. It does not like to be disturbed while sleeping.  The Pekingese is wary of strangers and tends to bark, making it a great watchdog.  That's my boy...

9/11

Kosovo Firefighters at a 9/11 Memorial

Ever wonder if you'd ever remember where you were when 9/11 took place?  It's one of those old adages that started back in the 1800s after Lincoln was assassinated.  For years people would talk about where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news.  To many the next one was Pearl Harbor, then Kennedy's assassination - then of course 9/11.  I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing because it just so happened that I was in the middle of a Muslim Country - Kosovo - when we got the news about the planes and the World Trade Centers.  Everybody's got a story about that day.  Mine's just another - with a twist.  

The world generally felt sorry for us.  I mean 'Really.' Fly planes into buildings?  Make a statement by hitting the financial, military structures, then mess up when a brave bunch of Americans decided that whatever the intent of the hijackers of flight 93 was, they weren't going to let them go through with it so they took over the plane and the Muslim terrorists flew it into a field in my home state of PA?   So the (probable) plan to fly into the Capital building or the White House didn't pan out.  "Let's Roll" Todd Beamer.  Google his name...

The Mayor at that time - Guiliani - said something significant today.  When asked what could the Firemen do to get the people out of the building, the Chief said, "I can save everyone below the fire."

The Mayor then knew the truth with nothing more need being said - he was going to have to watch people jump to their deaths above the fire because there was no way to save them.  No one could get up the stairs and helicopters couldn't get close because of the heat...And I'm supposed to be tolerant? 

We got alot of attention from our Allies in Kosovo and from the civilian authorities.  We also got a little uptight too.  Rumors spread all over that we would be heading to Afghanistan directly from Kosovo since we were close and the trouble brewing there had to be handled.  We had our own mission (2nd Brigade) though since trouble was still brewing in Kosovo and the Former Republic of Yugoslavia so the 3rd Brigade of the 101st went instead - with alot of Army Rangers.    One of the impressive things that happened was as the 3rd Brigade was flying North from Fort Campbell the airline pilots of the planes purposely flew over New York City and the site where the Trade Centers used to be just so the Soldiers could see what they were going over there for.  The site was still smoking...

Senior Imam in Kosovo. 
Meeting in Pristina

Some of the pictures I posted here were taken after the attack.  We had a huge service attended by many Allies.  The picture with the flowers and Red Cross are the Camp Bondsteel Kosovar Firefighters at a Memorial they conducted in honor of the New York City Ladder Teams.  The video is of the British BlackWatch Piper Team as they did a parade around Camp Bondsteel and the Kosovo Firemen put an American flag draped casket on top of the fire truck that the Pipers led around the post. 

The other picture is of me with the Senior Imam of Kosovo.  We had a regularly scheduled meeting with the Allied Clergy (my boss over there was from Sweden).  We met in the Imam's Office building next to the Mosque.  There were Greeks, Poles, Germans, etc. present, as well as a number of Imams from around the country.  There was tea and alot of talking when the Imam all of a sudden stopped the meeting and told me to come and sit by him.  I guess he wanted everyone to hear what he was going to say - and that was simply, "I am sorry for what happened to your Country."  "Those people do not represent Islam."   I accepted the apology of course.  And we drank some more tea.  Burning question remains though:  Where are all these moderate Imams today?

They did feed us - but no way I was gonna eat that guy..

Postscript:  The 2nd Brigade, 101st Airborne remained in Kosovo to protect the Muslims from the Yugoslavs - people forget that...

Slimed by the 3rd Infantry Tankers - Baghdad Hillbillies - Wal-Mart tarp - the Shamal

Sometimes life is on the edge - other times it just sucks...I had that same "it sucks" experience in early 2003 when I found out that the 101st Airborne Division was deploying to Kuwait in anticipation of an invasion of Iraq.  To the left are my 'peeps' who were with me in Kuwait and in the vehicle all the way to Mosul.   The guy on the left is a senior warrant officer who flew Chinooks and the other guy flew Blackhawks.  Me - I'm in the middle.  They are armed, I am not.  To the left of my Chinook buddy is the tarp I brought with me that I bought at Wal-Mart.  I intended to use it as a floor for any tent I may have found myself in since I was in the Middle East in 1990-1993.
We ended up using it as a cover for the back of the vehicle to hopefully keep the dust off our equipment, water and MREs (it didn't work).  No good against IEDs either and particularly no good against those darn Hammer Division 3rd Infantry guys and their tanks rolling past us in the race to Baghdad.  It was their fault I'm still adverse to anything to do with dust and sand altogether.  We put the Wal-Mart tarp on the vehicle a few minutes after someone took the first picture and you can see it to the right.  To the left you can see one of those 3rd Infantry Tank guys sliming us which was pretty much an hourly occurance.

Anyway, it was during this wonderful time that that four day 'shamal' windstorm, hell from Mars hit.  I was in the 101st Division Plans Cell in the Assault Command Post (ACP) with General David Petraeus and the best Division Chaplain in all the world Chaplain Ken Brown.  He sent me ahead with the ACP to ensure we had coverage up front.  My best friend of all MAJ Tim Quillen was with me all the way and the plans cell had helicoptered up from the Division Main Command post (which was so large it supposedly could be viewed from space), and they barely made it because the 'shamal' was starting.  Miserable?  Uhhh - YES!  Ever been in a place where the large tent you are in is shaking violently - sand is pouring in from every corner of the thing?
The computers are so dusty that we're using PAINT BRUSHES!!! to keep them clean?  No, you haven't.  And we're in the middle of quite literally NOWHERE!  A place where you crawl into your tent and there is mud on the floor but it hasn't rained?  Just for the fun of it, I took a picture (left) of the inside of our tent in Kuwait (this is before the 'shamal' in Iraq), when I woke up one night and while lifting my head a few inches I bump into something - and that something turns out to be a tent pole that had fallen over and was inches from bashing me in the head!  Anyway - it sucked - but I've already talked about this in another blog.

But here we are in the Iraqi version of a 'shamal,'  a REALLY bad sandstorm - like Lawrence of Arabia kind of bad sandstorm.  It rains for two whole minutes and there is so much dust in the air that when the rains cuts through it it turns to mud and that mud hits the ground for a grand 2-3 minutes - perfect timing to mess up just about everything.  Tents rattle for three days.  Mud is all over.  The sky is blood red.  Helicopters can't fly and my friend Tim Quillin and the other planners have to land somewhere else and bus in because of the bad winds.  No day for almost four days.  We are all NOT in a happy mood.  But we make it through.  BG Freakley lets the newspaper guys sleep in his tent since they had nowhere to go.  And the one writer found out he won a Pulitizer Prize while he was in that tent.
Anyway - I got to my HUMVEE that night and was just about through with it all.  I couldn't show it but I was beat.  We hadn't slept for about three days or so just to get here and we are downing the Instant Taster's Choice coffee right out of the packet just to stay awake.  Then in pops Tim Quillin - wondering if he could get an MRE because he was hungry - really?  He's one of those brilliant always moving minds that can put things where they belong.  We sat and talked for awhile and he left - I got into my mud hut and went to sleep - I to this day don't know how - and someone remarked after we returned that we were lucky to get out of their alive -I don't know how we did.
One of my enduring memories those days was praying with BG Freakley before he went out on a recon.  And seeing GEN William Wallace, Commander of V Corps, sitting on the ground with MG Petraeus going over maps of all things and strategizing how we were going to take Baghdad - or (I think) how to deal with those towns we by-passed along the way in our march to the Capital of the Persian Empire (Karbala, An Najaf, etc.).
The next day - the sun was out - the wind had stopped - we peeled off the chemical suits we had on for days and generally did some cleaning up.  There's a lesson here friends.  It's written on faces.

"Fudo Kircher" and Caddyshack

Remember the movie "Caddyshack?"  Particularly the scene where Bill Murray is talking to the younger caddy about caddying for the Dalai Lama?  I ran into the same thing...
Murray and the Dalai Lama

Here's Murray lines:  "So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga... gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the 18th and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice."

I got something going for me too.  The picture at left represents Achala Natha, who is perhaps better known as Bodhisattva Fudo Myo-o, the "Immovable Wisdom King," who is a symbolic representation of the will and determination to stand fast through the struggles of life.  Apparently one of the students of the Chaplain Basic Officer Leaders Course, who happened to be a Buddhist, thought this best represented me?  This is what he told the class, "Bodhisattva Fudo Myo-o is depicted as surrounded by flames which represent the passions of life as he sits firmly on a solid rock which represents his firm resolve to not be moved from his spiritual path.  In particular, he is seen as a figure of the harder variety of compassion, much in the same way a father will stand fast as his children are reprimanded without coddling them or stopping them from receiving the reprimand, knowing it will improve their character.  He is a very strong and paternal figure, whose stern face reflects discipline and dedication to keep his charges away from evil paths.  He is shown carrying a sword and rope, which symbolize his vow to cut away the delusions of all sentient beings and to bind up evil desires so they cannot manifest.  

   "LTC Kircher, throughout CH-BOLC, you have shown this "harder" compassion and the vow to be immovable in our training.  At the same time you have been a very paternal figure, shepherding us through the rigors of training with a certain compassionate firmness.  Based on this, I was inspired to respectfully depict you as "Fudo Kircher."  With all due respect I wish to present this to you as a gesture of appreciation from myself and my classmates.  Thank you Sir."

"So I got that goin' for me, which is nice."

Bob Hope - Christmas Eve 1990

It's not often that you get the chance to meet someone 'really' famous.  One who's been around for a long time and is so hugely well known that to not know his name would mean you've never heard of radio or television.  That one guy for me was Bob Hope.  It was Christmas Eve 1990.   Operation Desert Shield.  I was in Saudi Arabia at King Khalid International Airport (KKIA), as Chaplain for a PATRIOT Missile Battalion (3-43ADA) out of Fort Bliss, TX. Someone knew something because we never thought we'd deploy in a million years. But as soon as Saddam crossed over into Kuwait we had guys on the ground in Riyadh within a week. I remember vividly waiting at Biggs Army Airfield at Fort Bliss, Texas for our flight to the Middle East. The wait was because some guy from Raytheon had to get there with a large pile of 'A' drive computer disks (he had about 40 it looked like to me), which he had to load onto the Patriot Missile Computers. Why?
The Patriot had always worked well before. We later learned that it was to make the Patriot Missile capable of shooting down another missile or rocket - in this case - someone knew that Saddam had SCUD rockets positioned to hamper our advance into Iraq. A Patriot missile had never shot another missile down before. All experimental. When he finally arrived about 0100, 50 of us loaded onto a C5 Starlifter Air Farce (yes - 'Farce' is spelled correctly) plane for the backwards ride to Dhahran, Saudi Arabia - then the vehicle march to Riyadh in the middle of the night. The C5 is a two story aircraft with 75 seats upstairs and you ride backwards. Didn't know if we were coming or going and my vehicle was actually in that same plane downstairs. Food was in small boxes the cheapskate Air Farce guys gave us while they had hot meals topside. Worried? Not us. Not until January when the Air Farce guys were all cheering that they had won the war from the air and the Army and Marines weren't needed. That cheering stopped two days later when the first round of five SCUDs came screaming over our heads toward their refueler aircraft while we're running for bunkers and our PATRIOTs are picking off the SCUDs one by one. Looking back now, I don't think we had an idea of how much danger we were in.

Back from my ADHD shuffle...Bob Hope.  What a guy.  I got to meet him up close and personal because he and his staff used my chapel tent to change and get ready for the show.   There were about 2,000 Soldiers and Airmen around the compound that day as we were waiting for Hope to arrive.  I got a wild hair and decided to go on the stage and tell a few jokes.  I also started to sing the Air Force Song about "going off into the wild blue yonder," but couldn't get anyone to chime in since I mangled the thing and sang about PATRIOT missiles shooting down those very same aircraft...oh well.  As I was in the process of getting booed here comes Bob Hope and his entourage driving around the corner.  

I got off the stage and went to my chapel tent and in he walks with his wife, daughter Dorthy (who he seemed to yell at alot),  Arin Tippen (a newcomer at the time), and holy cow!  Johnny Bench!!!   Man, was it ever autograph time.  Tippen sang some pretty good songs about "you lefties don't like the country then leave it," kind of stuff which made us pretty happy, then Bench got up there and did some bantoring with the crowd.  At about 8:00 P.M., Bob came out of the tent with his golf club of course and sat on the steps leading up to the stage.  He hung around there awhile and I was videoing the whole thing when after about 20 minutes Bench came down and got him to come on stage for his act.  He had the usual G.I. jokes which were pretty good.  He was swinging around his golf club and talking about the girls he couldn't bring with him because the Saudis didn't like the way they were dressed (we did).  

When he was done his wife came up on stage and in the 85 degree nighttime desert calm she sings 'White Christmas.'   The pictures of Bob Hope and Johnny Bench are from the net.  The one on the left of Mrs. Hope was one I took from the side of the stage.
Life's an adventure huh?

Myrtle Beach Adventures - The Plantation Pancake house

Not sure where to begin on this one.  There's cousins Chrissy, Kevin, and her friend Helen.  Helen does all the quilt work while Chrissy sits on the balcony or lounges by the pool eating coconut bon-bons and reading romance novels from the 1930s.  Kevin eats enough spaghetti for 12 grown men after his 4 hour dialysis visit where they must have used the Jolly Green Giants blood and a shot of Bob Hope because he turns into the hungriest comedian on earth - then wonders why Chrissy can't pick him up on time.  Meanwhile, Aunt Jean and Uncle Jim have us over for dinner on Tuesday evening and Jean makes enough baked spaghetti - about 10 pounds of ziti type pasta to feed a platoon of Infantrymen - and some regular spaghetti with sauce and meatballs which Kevin dives in to like Bugs Bunny who just lost his favorite carrot down the rabbit hole with Elmer Fudd close behind with the 12 gauge.  Where does the conversation go?  Family?  Catching up?  Who died this month?  NO!  The poor waitress at the Plantation Pancake House on Highway 17...More to follow...

But first - Dana!!!!   Awesome on 24.  She is the best mole ever...you have got to watch this hour below...

FOX on Demand - 24

Back to reality - I'm not one to complain about waitresses...apparently Chrissy and Kevin are.  If those two don't get their pancakes and eggs on time then baby you better run for the hills...We decide to do a pancake breakfast at the seemingly ubiquitous pancake houses that line Highway 17 in Myrtle Beach.  I can see why that is because most of the vacationers stay up all night drinking so when 10 a.m. rolls around they get the munchers and the cure is pancakes.  Sandra and I sit down...on time - Chrissy and Kevin are late...a young waitress in distress comes around and takes our orders.  I get the pancakes and scrambled eggs cause I like to mix the eggs and dietetic syrup together - those are my pancakes on the right...Everyone else gets something similar except of course Kevin.  The waitress takes our orders and starts to walk away when it suddenly hits the ever present of wit Kevin that the waitress took all of our orders except his.  I guess the shine on his head threw her off cause she just passed right over him big time.  He has to be different of course and orders a waffle with blueberry syrup and whipped cream - like he's some kind of  aristocrat or something.  A few minutes pass and the waitress comes and says our food is coming.  Okay - we're not at McDonalds - this isn't fast food.
A few minutes later my buttermilks come out with hot scrambled eggs and dietetic syrup and I'm doing just fine - that's MY waiter on the left.  Time starts to pass though and there are no pancakes for the cousins...Sandy gets a plate of pancakes and over medium eggs which she defaults to rather than wait for the scrambled she ordered.  Kevins blueberry coated waffle comes out but with no whipped cream...there is an immediate crisis.  How in the world can he manage that waffle with blueberry syrup without the whipped cream he ordered?  Chrissy suddenly reverts to the state house inmate thought pattern and gives the waitress the evil eye because dammit she ordered eggs with her pancakes and only got pancakes - or something like that - whatever - she didn't get what she ordered...Kevin is on the other side of the table picking at his waffle because he is STILL!!!! waiting for his whipped cream while Sandra eats away at her medium eggs and pancakes...all of a sudden a new waitress comes out and says she is now in charge of our table because apparently the younger waitress couldn't handle the stress of four people from Pennsylvania and the girl I fell in love with from El Paso...

There is hope though - Kevin lets her know about his disdain with not receiving his 'Kool Whip'? AND MAN SHE RUNS BACK TO THAT KITCHEN AND POPS BACK OUT WITH A CAN OF THE STUFF THAT SHE COVERS WHAT'S LEFT OF THE WAFFLE KEVIN HAS YET TO FINISH.
In the end - being the kind of guy I am - I leave a $5.00 tip for the poor girl and I think Kevin and Chrissy left 12 cents on the tab...
so much for Myrtle Beach...

"Tea" (bag) Anyone? Massachusetts finds its Patriot Soul

Why are Conservatives so much better looking than lefties?  (Palin?  Brown?  Kennedy?  Reagan?)   I forgot to add a couple more good looking Conservatives to my blog...

It is with great joy that we find the Bay State of Massachusetts coming to it's senses and voting for real change, not theatrical change.  Is there any irony that Scott Brown won Barney Frank's district?  Is there any irony to be found in the fact that the BOSTON tea party took place in that very harbor and the lefties are making fun of the founders of our Country who sponsored that very tea party -     

doesn't that make our Country's Founders the party of the 'tea bag?' 

The Boston Tea Party was a direct action by colonists in Boston, a town in the British colony of Massachusetts, against the British government. On December 16, 1773, after officials in Boston refused to return three shiploads of taxed tea to Britain, a group of colonists boarded the ships and destroyed the tea by throwing it into Boston Harbor. The incident remains an iconic event of American history, and reference is often made to it in other political protests. 

So let's put this into present day context.  The brilliant Americans in Massachusetts, following the actions of their forefathers who ran away from these foreign, socialist countries where healthcare will get you killed, took direct action on 19 January 2010 against a leftist government and the most useless congress in U.S. history to throw their anti-American agenda into Boston Harbor.  That took guts.

I have experience with socialist, government run health care.  My good friend Father Joe Fluery, who had a small cottage overlooking the Adriatic Sea, came home one evening and the lights were off.  He had a very large glass door (not the falling apart kind of shattering glass), and tripped over a bolt that was on the porch of the apartment and fell into the glass door.  He got a gash in his leg that just about took it off.  He was rushed to a government run, socialist Italian hospital - the country has the kind of healthcare Reid and Pelosi want you to have but not for themselves - where they proceeded to sew up the wound.  Now before you say, "what a great thing they did, sewing him up for no cost, that is a government that 'cares,'" let me tell you that they sewed him up with NO ANESTHESIA.  That's right!  No pain killers!  He almost died on that table from shock because ANESTHESIA was (too costly)!  Not one person in the United States this very day would ever have that happen to them.  What happened later?  He was stuck in a room where he was given almost nothing to eat (too costly), given almost no pain medicine (too costly).  One night while he lay awake some thugs from Naples came in to beat up his roommate who apparently was a drug dealer and Father Joe had to beat them off with the cane they gave him.  Security for the government run hospital was (too costly). 
What benefit would government run healthcare provide?  NONE!  And Massachusetts figured that out.  They finally got their Patriot Soul back from our Founding Fathers. 

The boys on the porch in the picture for this blog were farm boys who if you look at the picture didn't have a whole lot going for them and not alot to wear.  Their skin color didn't matter, they're work ethic did.  They decided to not commit crimes, not do drugs, and work for their health insurance.  And every single American has that right. 
Way to go Massachusetts!  Way to go Senator Scott Brown - now on to the Presidency...

One on the Porch dies of a Broken heart

Not a good day...My brother Joseph William Kircher, the kid on the right in the picture for this blog, died in his sleep Sunday night, 4 January 2010. 

I'll get back to this later...

Joseph was the name of my great-grandfather on the Kircher side, the German immigrant who came from Fulda/Geisa to America in 1852 as a 12 year old and later fought in the American Civil War.  William was my Grandpa Swartz' name, everybody called him Bill - the guy who had the grocery store in Mill City.  Ancestor Joseph Kircher's gravestone is at left with the GAR (Grand Army of the Republic) flag holder.  My brother, the most recent Joseph Kircher, will be buried between him and Susan Kern in the Newton-Ransom Cemetery, thanks to my brother Steve.

It's different when a brother dies, especially when he is younger, but not by much.  We fought like crazy when we were young.  Punching each other in the arm, playing in the fields.  All that 'brother' stuff.  He always picked on me and when we were real young there are pictures of him grabbing at my ears and just generally taunting me as a brother would do.  You can see him taunting me unjustly to the right.

But in the end, he gave up.  He was a guy who needed to work, and he did not do well with idle time and when he was not around people.  Sandy and I saw him in September last year when we visited and he seemed in good spirits although he was in pain because of his legs.  He did so well when we were together up there although it was obvious he was suffering - not only physically but also in his heart.  He was as he always was - cracking jokes about my RV and how it reminded him of the Beverly Hillbillies - I became 'Jed Clampett,' and Sandy was Ellie May.  He was always like that, a sense of humor although pretty dry.  He could play the guitar like Eddie Van Halen but never put it to use.  He loved Christmas and was famous for vast spreads of decorations and food around the house and was almost yearly in the running to win WNEP TV Channel 16's contest for the most elaborate Christmas lights outside the house.  In fact, they did show his house on TV one night a few years ago.

He was the mechanic.  Dad always put him at the Gas Station - Kircher's Korner in Clarks Summit - and me at the farm.  He wanted to work on the farm and I wanted to be at the gas station.  Go figure the people skills of dad Leon on that one.  So I ran away - but that's another story.  He was also a welder of immense skills.  He was so good that he could spot weld together the tin from soda cans.  I am not up to speed on all that but I hear that is a skill very few welders have.  His former boss said as much at the viewing. 

We Kircher kids are not good at saying much about the things we feel.  I didn't go to Church this Sunday because I didn't want anyone to have to feel sorry for me.  Go figure.  Joe was much the same.  He held everything in.  Brother Steve went over an untold number of times to try and get him to go to the doctor but Joe refused.  Steve had to stop by daily just to be sure he was still alive - what kind of duty is that?  But Joe was his brother, and Steve is the hero.  But in the end, we all admired him.  We all loved him although we never said it.  At right is mom Alice with me and Joe probably early 1957 when we lived in Clarks Summit.  I was smiling...Joe was wondering what was going on with the bright lights.

At the funeral cousin Kevin Swartz said Joe just went downhill when he didn't have a job.  He said when Joe heard of a family that didn't have enough money to pay their electricity that he went over and paid it for them.  He said Joe died of a broken heart.  I spent years in college and seminary and have all the requisite degrees...but it was Kevin who had it figured out...'died of a broken heart...'  We will miss him terribly.