tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6234033133224421442024-03-19T01:47:44.575-07:00Gabe's Fascinating StoriesThis blog is a collection of Gabe Gabrielsen's greatest stories. Each story Gabe shares conveys a powerful message. Most of Gabe's stories are fact, some however are legends and a few - well they are - pure fiction. Gabe shares these stories to improve your professional effectiveness and enhance your personal commitment. By all means share them with your family, friends and business colleagues. Sincerely Gabe GabrielsenUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-88412491044676898462017-05-09T08:39:00.000-07:002017-05-09T08:39:13.987-07:00Why Was Alexander the Great - So Great. Here's Why!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP49OkVzsS4-Ian763iW3kXITAfv3nygfmb5raHkTTzC9PSCLFogD-beaL0PXUOp3vNziQbEh9Zt8HJGyfEP2yNUZ0awWKhg20CzzDcGL1o6HdB9au166R3-X9Roxq9CnT417X8LBUsxQ/s1600/alexander+the+great.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP49OkVzsS4-Ian763iW3kXITAfv3nygfmb5raHkTTzC9PSCLFogD-beaL0PXUOp3vNziQbEh9Zt8HJGyfEP2yNUZ0awWKhg20CzzDcGL1o6HdB9au166R3-X9Roxq9CnT417X8LBUsxQ/s1600/alexander+the+great.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Alexander III was born in 365BC. He ascended to the throne of Macedonia when his father died; Alexander was only 20. As a young boy he was tutored by Aristotle and by the age of 30 he had conquered most of the known world from Greece to India.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On his death bed, Alexander the Great ... was said to have summoned his army generals and told them his three ultimate wishes before his death:<br /><br />1. Only the best doctors should be allowed to to carry my coffin to the grave site.<br /><br />2. All the wealth I have accumulated (money, gold, precious stones) in my life should be scattered along the procession route on the way to the cemetery.<br /><br />3. My hands should be let loose and hang outside my coffin for all to see !!<br /><br />One of his generals was surprised by these unusual requests and asked Alexander to explain. <br /><br />Here is what Alexander the Great supposedly told his generals:<br /><br />1. "I only want the best doctors to carry my coffin to demonstrate that in the face of death, even with all their knowledge and skills they do not possess the power to heal all”<br /><br />2. "I want the road to be covered with my personal fortune so that everybody will see that all the material wealth one acquires on earth will always remain on earth - you can't take it with you to the afterlife.”<br /><br />3. I want my hands to swing in the wind, so that people will understand we all come to this world empty handed and we all leave this world empty handed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I want people to understand the most precious treasure of all is: TIME.<br /><br />TIME is so precious because it is LIMITED. We can always produce more wealth, but we cannot produce more time.<br /><br />When we give someone our time, we actually giving them a portion of our life - for our time is our life!<br /><br />The best present we can ever give our families and friends is our TIME.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-65975426075841685892017-05-02T08:09:00.000-07:002018-06-06T08:32:45.816-07:00Why the Heck do They Sell Those Dumb Poppies Every Year?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Most of us expect to see some old veteran or some “nice lady of the auxiliary” standing in front of a grocery store - a street corner or in front of the courthouse later this month. They will be out there trying to sell us a Poppy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Every year the VFW’s and American Legion’s ask us to buy and wear a Red Poppy, yet few people actually know why? With Memorial Day fast approaching (Monday, May 29th) I thought I would share amazing trivia about the Poppies. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The reason we are asked to wear Poppies is to remember fallen soldiers. Sadly many people who buy Poppies don’t know this. Second, few if any who buy Poppies know how to properly wear them. A Poppy should always be worn on the ‘right side’ of one’s chest – as near to the heart as possible. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The red of the Poppy is meant to represent the blood each veteran shed when they gave their life. Sometimes black is seen on a Poppy. The black represents the mourning the loved ones endured when their soldiers did not return home. Finally, the green leaf on the poppy represents the grass and crops now growing, and the prosperity that came, after the war - even though the fields where battles were fought were destroyed. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If there is one thing to remember from reading this article it’s this - Remember the green leaf on the Poppy should always be positioned at the 11 o'clock position. This position represents the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month - the actual time that World War One officially ended.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The idea of wearing a Poppy was inspired by a simple poem - a poem written by Colonel John McCrae, a Canadian surgeon with Canada's First Brigade Artillery during World War I. Colonel McCrae wrote his poem shortly after visiting an old battle field which had been transformed into a cemetery. Hit with sadness he needed to express his grief after seeing "row upon row" of graves - for all the soldiers who had died on Flanders' field - a major battlefield - located in western Belgium and northern France. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The poem he wrote created an image of what he saw - bright red flowers growing among the rows and rows of white crosses on the field. His poem about Flanders Field made the Poppy a rallying cry for all who fought in the First World War. Below Coloneil McCrae's actual poem:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>In Flanders fields the poppies blow<br /> between the crosses, row on row, <br /> that mark our place; and in the sky<br /> The larks, still bravely singing, fly.<br /> Scarce heard amid the guns below.<br /> <br /> We are the dead. Short days ago<br /> We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,<br /> Loved, and were loved, and now we lie<br /> In Flanders fields.<br /> <br /> Take up our quarrel with the foe:<br /> To you from failing hands we throw<br /> The torch; be yours to hold it high.<br /> If ye break faith with us who die<br /> We shall not sleep, though poppies grow<br /> In Flanders fields.</b></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Colonel McCrae’s poem was first printed in December 1915, in a British magazine and it had a huge impact in Europe - especially on two women - Anna E. Guerin of France and Moina Michael a Georgia native now living in Western Europe. Both ladies worked tirelessly to initiate the sale of poppies. Their goal was to raise money to help orphans, widows and others impacted by the war. <b>In 1920, </b>with the help of the American Legion, Mrs. Guerin, was able to establish the first annual Poppy sale in the U.S.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Poppy, already a well known flower in all the allied countries - Britain, France, Canada, Australia and New Zealand – was known as the "Flower of Remembrance." <b>In 1922</b> the VFW adopted the Poppy as the official memorial flower at its national convention in Seattle, Wash. However in 1923, there was a shortage of Poppies so the VFW decided to rely on unemployed and disabled veterans to produce the artificial Poppies needed. Today, the VFW and American Legion Auxiliary sell roughly 14 million Poppies.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>All the proceeds generated from the sales</b> their Poppies go to help veterans, their widows, widowers and orphans all over the world. Amazingly, the Poppy itself still survives and grows each year in Flanders’s Field as a perpetual tribute to those who gave their lives for freedom so many years ago.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So this year during the Memorial Day weekend, if you see an old veteran or a beautiful woman standing outside somewhere selling Poppies try to make a point to buy one. There is no set fee required - a nickel, dime or quarter would be fine, but if you can – try to throw in an extra buck or two and please, please, please wear your Poppy correctly.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecOUGLXQ2b92ZJ_N75lQ39y30LT4sIT0YclRVx28zE5MqAds2luFIY81VxlA1oL4l9Pp_QDTSJ7TiCvBb_BebZqG7E27bSaz8NzG1lQ_9qZAQjsWGvhMLmuUl-zZEZlb5x7tj88tABXY/s1600/Poppies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="93" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecOUGLXQ2b92ZJ_N75lQ39y30LT4sIT0YclRVx28zE5MqAds2luFIY81VxlA1oL4l9Pp_QDTSJ7TiCvBb_BebZqG7E27bSaz8NzG1lQ_9qZAQjsWGvhMLmuUl-zZEZlb5x7tj88tABXY/s320/Poppies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Note:</u></b> Seldom, if ever, do I ever ask any post of mine be shared; but this is one post I respectfully ask you to share so people know about the significance of the Poppy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gabe </span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-73303472470210432012017-04-14T13:30:00.000-07:002017-04-14T11:28:54.067-07:00The Socratic Test of Three - Something All Public Officials Should Think About<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Socrates was a respected citizen, statesman and philosopher of ancient Greece. Many say he laid the seeds for modern western civilization. He was revered by his neighbors and fellow Greek citizens for both his wisdom and high moral character. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One day an acquaintance of his ran over to approach him and asked "Socrates, have you heard the latest news about Marcus?" Socrates raised his hand slowly and said "Wait! Before you tell me what you have to say about Marcus, let's see if it passes - <b>The Test of Three.</b>" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"The Test of Three?" inquired the man. “Yes” said Socrates. "The Test of Three." <br /> <br /> "The first test" Socrates explained "is <b>the test of Truth</b>. Are you absolutely sure that what you are about to share with me about Marcus is the truth?" "Well no I don't know," replied the man, "I just heard it a few minutes ago."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"So," said Socrates "you want to share with me something about Marcus that you yourself have not confirmed as being true". The man replied "Yes". <br /> <br /> "Well let's apply the second test" Socrates said, "<b>the test of Goodness</b>". Is what you are about to share with me about Marcus good?" "No, on the contrary Socrates ..." the man began; but Socrates cut him off and said "So You want to tell me something bad about Marcus even though you are not certain it is true?" The man shrugged his shoulders as though he were a little embarrassed.<br /><br />Socrates smiled and said "Don't be disappointed you may still pass the third test - <b>the test of Usefulness</b>. Will what you share with me about Marcus be of any use or value to me?" "No, not really said the man." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Well then," commented Socrates, "If what you want to share with me about Marcus is neither True, nor Good and has no Use or Value for me - why in the world do you want to tell me this?" </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The man, then hung his head, obviously ashamed and just stood silent. Finally he turned around and just walked away. </span><br /> <br /><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>As elected officials, civic leader, or business owners would not all of our places of work - especially our seats of local government - be a much better off if we all just remembered and employed the Socratic Test of Three?</b></i></span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-71567138724058204862017-04-04T08:19:00.000-07:002017-04-10T16:04:53.999-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Airman First Class (A1C) Clerow "Flip" Wilson US Air Force (Served 1950-1954)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes its true Flip Wilson was in the Air Force and he lied about his age to enlist. He was stationed on the Island nation of Guam and assigned to the Strategic Air Command.<br /><br />View his Service Profile <br /><br />on <a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2FTogetherWeServed.com%2F&h=ATOHGD_L97L91kpfMQbzcSnMA2imtsUha0T6sNVRmqtVmKXcLfrzU05R_AsKCuNwSVp_0Bzh6sebY0DxOShHeQF2IlRIN5C0-c7ATYUPSSf9jDjcAhFQweZiTrWxDQh3nRExKZ4&enc=AZOEz3oEpeF1fSt34aciUSdOHKbsr-EjAOM8HSFIr7ctv6GbhrvWT_eG4s8Vp0tw_j3kFG-dgIX1u-ImW4vWKwhF8eMIPD_K6OUIiPd2zhWAscI5BtfvQ7DoBH_l0T67F5LRo_cQcwnaZFvWmM45AzNSEIVR2zM6n-qG7fPDK7r9JF44AAgsjkC_t3veSAtEz9I&s=1">TogetherWeServed.com</a> at <a href="http://airforce.togetherweserved.com/profile/171488">http://airforce.togetherweserved.com/profile/171488</a><br /><br />Short Bio: Clerow dropped out of school in the 8th grade because he was embarrassed by the poor clothing he had to wear to school each day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At 16, he lied about his age and joined the U.S. Air Force. It was while serving in the Air Force that he got the nickname "Flip." While he was stationed on the Island of Guam, he entertained his buddies at night with jokes and humor. One of they guys in his unit remarked, "He has 'flippeth' his lid" and the name stuck - ever since. <br /><br />After Flip was discharged from the USAF he began to try his comedic talent in small night clubs and bars. Finally he built up the courage to try out for the Chitlin Circuit in hot spots like the Apollo Club in Harlem, New York. Flip would often sleep in pay toilet stalls because he did not have enough money for a motel or hotel. He made ends meet by working as a bellhop and paid for the birth of his oldest son by working as a truck driver during the day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Flip was quoted as saying "But I was happy because I knew where I was going with my life." </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-68309830435376139962017-03-12T10:16:00.000-07:002018-11-12T11:56:07.264-08:00Mayor Avoids Tragedy With Help of Township Officer<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">A local city Mayor narrowly escaped injuries this past weekend as the result of a
quick-thinking township officer who was on the scene. We were informed that the Mayor was
attempting to mount a horse - a small golden palomino - even though he had
never ridden a horse before. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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Bystanders at the scene confirmed that as the mayor was positioning himself in
the saddle, the small palomino unexpectedly bolted and took off in a full gallop. Startled
by the horse's unexpected actions the Mayor lost control of the reins and began
to slide out of the saddle. To stop his sliding, the mayor attempted to grab
the horse’s mane but no matter how hard he pulled the Mayor could not stop his downward decent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">Frantic that he would fall under
the horse’s galloping hoofs, the Mayor threw his arms around the horse’s neck
and held on tight but even then he continued to slide out of the saddle. The horse
meanwhile was totally oblivious to the mayor’s plight and continued to gallop at
full speed. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
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Realizing it was just a matter of time before he would fall off the horse and land under the horses legs, the Mayor decided to leap from the horse
and throw himself to safety. Unfortunately, his foot got entangled in one
of the stirrups making it impossible to jump from the horse.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">Just moments before falling completely off the horse, a local
township officer from a nearby community who was entering Wal-Mart at that time
saw the Mayor’s plight and quickly ran over to his aid. She unplugged the cord
and assisted the Mayor in getting down from the horse. She then checked him for
any injuries. Though the Mayor was considerably shaken up by this horseback
riding ordeal, he appeared unhurt - so the township officer left and entered
Wal-Mart to continue on with her shopping.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-51139307191136586362017-02-27T08:49:00.000-08:002017-02-27T08:49:02.341-08:00What Goes Around ... Comes Around <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He almost didn't see the old lady who was standing on the side of the road; but even in the dim evening light he could see she needed help standing there in the rain. He pulled his old car next to her shining new Mercedes and got out. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Even with the smile on his face as he approached her she began to look worried. No one had stopped to help her for the last hour or so. What was this man going to do? He didn't look safe; he looked poorly dressed and very rough.<br /> <br /> He could see that she was frightened and cold. He waved his hand and said, "Don't worry, I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson."<br /> <br /> Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady on a raining night it was no easy task to fix so Bryan crawled under her car. Looking for a level spot to place the jack, he skinned his knuckles a few times. However in no time he was able to change the tire. But he had gotten dirty and his hand was bleeding.<br /> <br /> As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was just passing through after visiting her sister who was in the hospital and she couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just smiled as he put the jack back in the trunk and closed it. <br /><br />The lady asked how much do I owe you young man. She would have gladly paid any amount he wanted for what he did as she imagined all the awful things that could have happened had this nice young man not stopped. Bryan never thought twice - "Not a thing Ma'am - I was just glad I was here to help someone in need". God knows there were plenty of times when people had given me a hand in the past and I just wanted to pay them back. <br /><br />However he told her that if she really wanted to pay him, the next time she saw someone who was in need of help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and then he added, "Just think of me!" He stood next to her car until she drove off. It had been a cold and another depressing day for Bryan, but he felt good as he headed for home.<br /> <br /> About six miles down the road the old lady saw a small cafe. She went inside to grab a bite to eat as it was still a long ride home for her. It was a dingy looking restaurant however the waitress came right over with a dry clean towel and said "Here, you might want to use this to wipe that wet hair". The waitress had a sweet smile.<br /><br />The lady noticed the waitress was pregnant and when she returned with a menu the lady asked "How far are in your pregnancy". "8 ½ months the waitress replied". The lady thought if must be hard for her to be working at 8 ½ month pregnant, but the waitress never let the strain or aches of her pregnancy affect her positive attitude. The old lady wondered how someone so young and carrying a child could be so giving and friendly to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.<br /> <br /> After the lady finished her meal, she handed the the waitress a one hundred dollar bill and said will be kind and take care of my tab for me. The waitress smiled and said sure. The waitress quickly went to get cash register paid her bill and then walked back to bring the lady her change. However when the waitress returned to the booth the old lady was gone; she had slipped out the side door. The waitress then noticed something written on a napkin next to the lady's plate. Tears swelled in the waitress’ eyes when she read the note the lady left - it said: "You don't owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, so let me help you out. Under the napkin the old lady left four more $100 bills.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /> There were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another night at midnight the diner closer. When the waitress got home she undressed and climbed into bed; however she couldn’t stop thinking about that nice old lady and the hand-written note and money left. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">She thought how could the lady have known how much her and her husband had really needed that money? He had been laid off since the mill closed and with the baby due next month, it was going to be hard for them.<br /><br /> She looked over at her husband who was sound asleep. She knew how worried he was the past few weeks not being able to find steady employment. As he laid there sleeping she leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. She then whispered soft and low, "Don’t worry honey - every thing's going to be all right. I really do love you, Bryan Anderson."</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-45080407948291061932017-02-19T07:24:00.000-08:002017-02-19T07:24:03.474-08:00How to Acquire Knowledge?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-51769115370568723562017-02-16T06:39:00.002-08:002017-02-16T07:11:47.545-08:00The Gift Of Flying<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Once upon a time there
was a little boy who wished he could fly like a bird. It was difficult for him to understand why he
could not fly. He saw birds at the zoo much bigger than he was and they could all
fly. "<i>Why O’ why can’t I fly he asked himself"</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Across town was another little boy; this boy had contracted polio when he was an infant and could not walk. His wish was
that some day he would be able walk and run like all the other boys and girls. <br />
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One day the little who wanted to fly like a bird became upset with his parents decided
to run away from home. After walking
several hours he came upon a city park where he saw the little boy who could
not walk playing in the sandbox.<br />
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He walked over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly
like a bird. "<i>No</i>," said the
little boy “<i>however I have always wondered what it would be like to walk and
run like other boys and girls.</i>" "<i>That is very sad</i>," said the
little boy who wanted to fly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Would you like to
be friends so we can play together in the sandbox? "Sure," said the other little boy
come on in the sandbox.<br />
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The two boys played for almost an hour making sand castle after sand castle. Then the
little boy's father walked over pushing a wheelchair. He was there to pick up his son and take him
to the car. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to meet his
new friend’s father and whispered something into his ear. "<i>I
guess that would be OK,</i>" said the boy’s father.<br />
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The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new
friend in the sand box and said, "<i>You are a good friend to me; I wish that
there was something I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys
and girls. But I can't; however there is something I would like to do for you –
if you will let me.</i>"<br />
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He then turned around, squatted down and told his new friend to climb on his
back. When the little boy was secure on his back the other boy began to run
across the grassy field. Faster and
faster he ran. The faster he ran the
more the wind just brushed across the faces of the two little boys.<br />
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Suddenly the little
boy's father with the wheelchair began to cry … he started to cry
uncontrollably. For as he watched his
beautiful son riding on the back of his new friend he saw his young son flap
his arms up and down in the wind and begin shouting at the top of his lungs…"<i>LOOK DADDY-
I'M FLYING – I REALLY AM FLYING DADDY</i>!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-85132143889440551302017-02-02T20:36:00.000-08:002017-05-24T19:06:49.028-07:00All The Mayor Wanted Was a Quickie <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A Mayor from Texas went to attend the Annual
Mayor’s Conference which was held in Wisconsin. While in Dairy State the Mayor he entered a small restaurant that served beer. The hostess seated him at a
table and handed him a menu and said your waitress will be with you shortly. Sure enough in a few minutes an attractive waitresses walked over and asked, "What would you like, sir?"<span class="apple-converted-space"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;">The Mayor put down the menu - looked at
the waitress. He starred at her beautiful complexion, her amazing facial features and her stunning figure. Then he smiled and said "I think I would like to have a quickie”?</span><br />
<span style="background: white;"><br />Not amused the waitress turned around and walked away in disgust. After she regained her composure
she returned to his table a few minutes later and asked again, "Sir, what
would you like?" The Mayor flashed her another broad smile and answered, "a quickie" is what I really want.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;">This time the waitress' anger took over; she reached out and slapped the Mayor across the face as hard as she could. The result was a resounding
"SMACK!" and then she stormed away.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">An elderly gentleman who was sitting at the next table, sipping
on a glass beer overhead everything that transpired. He leaned over to the young man and said "your not from these pars are you?". "No I am not, I am from Texas and I am up here on official business." "I thought so said the gentle; well up here in Wisconsin we pronounce it 'quiche', ". </span></span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-37476025888419262192017-01-26T09:32:00.000-08:002017-01-26T09:32:00.153-08:00Remembering President Harry Truman<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sadly, President Harry Truman does not often receive the credit many people think he rightfully deserves. Below are </span><u style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">some interesting facts about Harry Truman our 33rd President</u><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> many people may not be aware of.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">President Truman was a different kind of President for three primary reasons: </span><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> - and foremost, he was not elected to his first term of office; he inherited the position of President after the death of President Franklin Roosevelt. </span><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Second</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> - While serving as President of the United States, he chose to pay all of his travel and living expenses such as the food his family ate out of his Presidential salary.</span><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Third</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> - he placed a sign on his desk in the Oval Office which read - ‘</span><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The Buck Stops Here</i></span></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">’</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ironically, President Truman probably made as many, if not more, important decisions regarding our nation as any as the other 32 Presidents who preceded him. Most notably on August 6th, 1945 he, and he alone, ordered the dropping of the 5 ton Atomic Bomb on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">However, his true measure of greatness actually does not begin until after he left the White House in 1952.</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> After President - Elect Eisenhower was inaugurated into office as the new President of the United States, Harry and his wife Bess drove themselves back home to Independence Missouri in their personal automobile. There was no such thing as a Secret Service escort which followed them. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When they left Washington the only source of income they had was a small U.S. Army pension Harry earned and the only asset he and his wife Bess had to their name was a small house in Independence Missouri which Bess inherited from her parents. Other than the six years Harry and Bess spent in the White House, this was the only house the two of them ever knew during their entire married life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Almost immediately upon returning to Missouri large corporations from across the county began to contact Harry Truman. They all wanted to offer his positions with huge salaries to come work for them. However Mr. Truman declined every offer he received saying <i>"You don't want me, Gentlemen you want the office of the President, and that unfortunately doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the American people and I am sorry but that office is not for sale.</i>"</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Several Congressmen soon noticed the former President was paying for all the stationary and the stamps he was using to respond to letters her received from US citizens and people around the world who wrote him. Not only that, President Truman personally licked every stamp he placed on an envelope. Congress voted to grant President Truman the very first 'Retired Presidential Allowance. The following year, Congress voted to give him a retroactive Presidential pension of $25,000 per year.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In May 1971, Congress was preparing a bill to award President Truman the Medal of Honor on his 87th birthday; however President Truman wrote a letter to Congress in which he stated he would refuse to accept any such medal. He said <i>"I don't consider what I have done anything which should be the reason for any award, Congressional or otherwise – all I did was my job."</i></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The one Truman quote I will personally never forget was the one he gave during an interview with the New York Times. When asked why he had gotten into politics in the first place he said "<i>My choices in life were simple, either become a piano player in a Missouri whore house or enter politics. And to tell the truth, the way I saw it there was hardly any difference – so I choose politics."</i></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many Presidents and numerous political figures that followed President Truman found new levels of success by cashing in on their time in Public Office. Many used creative ways to accumulate untold wealth as a result of their time serving in public office. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It might be wise for us to take a moment now and then to remember President Harry Truman. </span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-84659457522785326452017-01-15T18:22:00.000-08:002017-01-15T18:22:21.765-08:00Who The Heck Is Betty Crocker? <span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_PbdYugZzaaOwBqV7mIRJlfW0CSxBFCBWhg68nCpmm_uitGQGwPbHgNK5RlG77qtoxAG2matGIlsudcOmau02F-uVi7i6qQV-OADABlUI7afR87nzCT6g4_SDorKcx5gsFAScBj8F5Y/s1600/betty+crocker+2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_PbdYugZzaaOwBqV7mIRJlfW0CSxBFCBWhg68nCpmm_uitGQGwPbHgNK5RlG77qtoxAG2matGIlsudcOmau02F-uVi7i6qQV-OADABlUI7afR87nzCT6g4_SDorKcx5gsFAScBj8F5Y/s1600/betty+crocker+2017.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Betty Crocker is a household
name that is pretty much known around the world today. For over a century, Betty has created
delicious recipes and proven baking methods that help even the most novice
cooks and newlyweds can follow to easily bake scrumptious desserts and a
variety of other baked goods. Betty’s kitchen
advice is trusted and followed by many.
But perhaps there is something you may not be aware of regarding Ms. Betty
Crocker.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In 1880, the forerunner of the
General Mills Company entered its newly milled flour in the International
Miller’s Competition; surprisingly it won the ‘Gold Medal’. The small company was
so proud to have won the gold medal; it changed the name of its flour to “Gold
Medal Flour.” Even though the original company
changed hands several times, the name Gold Medal Flour has always remained the flagship
flour; in fact it’s the largest selling flour in the U.S. today.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Back in 1921, one of the predecessors
to today’s General Mills decided to run a special promotion regarding its Gold
Medal Flour brand. The company asked housewives in America to submit any questions
they had about Gold Medal Flour and it assured them everyone who submitted a
question would receive a handwritten response from the company. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Unbelievably, the company was soon
overwhelmed with letters coming in from all across America from mothers and
homemakers. The company wanted to ensure
continuity in responding to all the women who sent in questions so the company came
up with the name Betty Crocker – because it just sounded like a good name to
reply. Every response to the questions submitted
regarding Gold Medal Flour were answered by numerous women who all signed their replies - Betty Crocker.<br />
<br />
Although Betty Crocker, was and always has been a fictionalized character, she became
so popular with housewives and bakers around the world demanded to
know what she actually looked like. So
back in 1936, after General Mills bought the company it commissioned a well
known artist to create a likeness of what he thought Betty Crocker would look
like if she were real - thus the first Betty Crocker image as we know today was created.<br />
<br />
Over the years General Mills has continued to update Betty’s looks - several times in fact. Each update provided Betty
with a contemporary hair style and a modern, fashionable wardrobe. The last makeover
Betty received was in 1996. Betty however was initially
portrayed as a matronly looking mother; today though she looks much younger,
resourceful and confident. In
addition, Betty has always been committed to her family, her community and most
of all she loves to bake.<br />
<br />
What most people do not realize is that there is always a "Betty
Crocker" on duty 24/7 at the General Mills Company headquarters in Golden
Valley, Minnesota. Betty is always there to
answer any phone call and reply to any questions that arises regarding Gold Medal
Flour.<br />
<br />
What’s even more amazing is that according to <u>AdWeek - one of the giant publications in the advertising industry</u>, has concluded that Betty Crocker
reigned as “The Most Famous Fictional Female in the U.S." for almost a
century. She was recently bumped to second
place by a younger upstart fictional character many of you might know. According to <u>AdWeek</u>, the four most famous fictional females ever
created by corporations in the U.S. are:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> 1)
Flo – The insurance spokeswoman from Progressive Insurance </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> 2)
Betty Crocker – The wise baker/kitchen consultant </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> 3)
Mrs. {Joy} Butterworth – The syrup icon from Pinnacle Foods,</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> and</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> 4) Catalina – A beautiful, fun
loving Chicken of the Sea mermaid <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-69726365602133782542017-01-01T09:03:00.001-08:002018-01-01T08:23:26.856-08:00What is Your Perspective as a Local Government Official?<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; tab-stops: 9.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes
it takes only the perspective of a child to remind us of what’s really important. The
quality of our lives is based solely on our individual perspectives.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyFCplOjN86DW5uH6pwhFLxTiBdCcl_jE4kvdqvLScjnIu1cJH15p9TQKH3mXz-lPkeiSu0mjRsbCu6F5VaKcM7KbcHTURLtg-REqb-e7o8262lw0WhywyPLbaGhnD5KWra1cR-MuHVU/s1600/Poor+farm+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyFCplOjN86DW5uH6pwhFLxTiBdCcl_jE4kvdqvLScjnIu1cJH15p9TQKH3mXz-lPkeiSu0mjRsbCu6F5VaKcM7KbcHTURLtg-REqb-e7o8262lw0WhywyPLbaGhnD5KWra1cR-MuHVU/s1600/Poor+farm+family.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One day a
very wealthy businessman, who was the father of an eight year old boy, decided to take his son for
a trip out into the country. He thought by visiting a rural area he could help teach his son some basic facts about life and more importantly help him appreciate all the things he had living a "The Big City". </span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The father wanted to show his son how life would be if they were poor. So through a friend - the father arranged
to spend a few days out in the boondocks - on a small farm owned by a family that everyone in the local area considered to be very
poor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The father took off a Thursday afternoon and all day Friday from work. He and his son got in the car and drove for about four and a half hours to the middle of no where to reach the farm were they had planned to stay at. Upon arriving they were warmly greeted by the farmer and his family and so they spent the entire weekend with them. After three days and three nights on the far the father and his son got back in their car for the return trip home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As they drove the father turned to his son and asked "Well Son how did you like our farm visit". “It was great, Dad,”
the son replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I now see how poor people live?” the son said. The father couldn’t help but crack a broad smile - his plan worked. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“So tell
me Son, what did you learn from this trip we took?” asked the father. Without hesitation the little boy said,
“I saw that we have one dog and but that family had four. I know we have a pool behind our house that
reaches to the middle of our yard and they have a creek that has no end. </span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom buys
fancy us all those fancy imported lanterns that she hangs in the garden but this family has stars to look up at each night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; tab-stops: 9.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our
patio deck is almost as wide as our house but when that family sits on their small back porch they have the whole horizon to look
at everyday. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We have a very small piece of land to live on in our neighborhood and they have fields that go
beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but everyone in that family is always serving each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom buys all
our food in the grocery stores, but they grow and raise most of what they eat themselves. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You built that big
fence around all our property to protect us; but this family has good friends and neighbors who watch out and protect them.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The
father was numb and speechless as he tried to catch his breath. Just then his son added, “Dad I really do want to thank you for showing
me just how poor we really are.”</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-36493274138730642792016-09-25T11:51:00.000-07:002016-09-26T15:17:59.248-07:00The Barbary Coast - An Important Lesson for all Public Officials<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This is an interesting story that will tie together three things: Thomas Jefferson - Muslims and the United States Marine Corps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My hope is you will find this is a fascinating story full of pertinent information but also answer the question: Why the U.S. Marine Corp Hymn contains the verse, "To the Shores of Tripoli" in it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, let’s begin. Most people are totally unaware that President Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States of America authorized the formation of the United States Marines (sea going soldiers). He did so when American ships were attacked by pirates of the Barbary Coast. The Marines had one job – repulse all invaders on American Ships.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Who were the Barbary Pirates? The Barbary pirates were the terror of the Mediterranean Sea - as well as a large section of the North Atlantic. They were Muslims who represented the Islamic nations of Tripoli, Tunis, Morocco, and Algiers - collectively referred to as the Barbary Coast<br /><br />That’s right - over two hundred years ago the United States was fighting with Islam and it was Thomas Jefferson who led the charge against them and here’s why. When Muslims pirates attacked foreign ships they always took the crews and passengers and held them hostage for exorbitant ransoms. The captured sailors and passengers were subjected to barbaric treatment and forced to write heart-breaking letters home, begging their governments and families to pay whatever their Mohammedan captors demanded. If ransoms did not arrive fast enough the heads of the hostages were cut off. <br /><br />Now before the Revolutionary War, all U.S. merchant ships (those belonging to the American Colonies) sailed under the protection of Great Britain. When the Colonies declared their independence from Britain and entered into the Revolutionary War, all ships of the United States were then protected by France. However, once the Colonists won their Independence from Great Britain the United States of America had to protect its own ships – thus the United States Navy was born. <br /><br />Thomas Jefferson was elected President of the United States in 1801; however 17 years before Jefferson was the Ambassador to France when Algerian pirates captured several American ships. The ‘Dye’ of Algiers at that time demanded the U.S. pay a ransom for their safe returns. Jefferson saw payments to Muslim nations as extortion and was opposed to Congress making any such payments. Many other American leaders, including George Washington shared similar feelings. They too warned Congress against caving in and paying Muslims ransoms. They thought paying tribute would only further embolden these fundamentalist Muslims.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Never the less, Congress to appease the Muslims pirates and avoid entering into another war, agreed to pay the ransoms the Barbary States demanded. Congress felt it would best if they followed in the footsteps of most European nations and just pay the ransoms.<br /><br />Well in 1786 Jefferson and John Adams personally met with Tripoli's Ambassador to Great Britain and asked him what right his nation had to attack American vessels and enslave American citizens and why Muslims held such hostility towards America, a nation with which they had never had a previous contact with.<br /><br />The Ambassador from Tripoli told the two future Presidents that Islam "was founded on the Laws of their Prophet Mohamend and that it was written in the Quran that all nations who do not acknowledge Islamic authority were sinners and that it is every Muslims right and duty to make war upon non-Islam’s. Furthermore Muslims who should be slain in battle with Islam’s enemies would all go to Paradise."<br /><br />So over the years Congress voted to pay Muslims millions of dollars for the safe passage of American ships and/or the return of American hostages. The payments Congress made were estimated to be 20 percent of the United States government annual revenue in 1800. Jefferson was disgusted by this policy. He wanted Congress to form a coalition with allied nations who together would force the Islamic states into peace. However a disinterested Congress “voted NO” to his suggestion and decided to continue to pay ransoms.<br /><br />Shortly after Jefferson was sworn in as the third President of the United States in 1801, the Pasha of Tripoli sent President Jefferson a letter. The letter demanded the U.S. make an immediate payment of $225,000 plus $25,000 a year for every year thereafter. Jefferson replied to the Pasha’s letter by saying he would not comply with his demand. The Pasha in turn responded by cutting down the American flagpole at the consulate in Tripoli and then declared war on the United States. Tunis, Morocco, and Algiers immediately did the same.<br /><br />Until this time, Jefferson was opposed to America raising any naval force other than one to defend the coast of the USA; but having watched his nation be cowed by Islamic thuggery for 17 long years he had had enough. He decided it was finally time to meet this evil force with force and thus he created the United States Marines.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />Once the Marines were in firmly established Jefferson sent a fleet of U.S. frigates loaded with United States Marines into the Mediterranean and north Atlantic. He authorized these American ships to seize all vessels and goods of the Pasha of Tripoli and to "cause to be done all other acts of precaution or hostility as any state of war would justify". The orders of the Marines were to confront Muslim pirates in battle and follow them back to their villages and kill every man, woman and child they found.<br /><br />It didn't take long for Muslim nations to leave U.S. Merchant vessels alone. Algiers and Tunis were accustomed to seeing America’s cowardice and acquiescence but now they saw the newly created United States of America had both the will and the might to strike back and they quickly abandoned their allegiance to Tripoli and their other Barbary Coast neighbors. They left all U.S. shipping traffic in the Mediterranean alone. <br /><br />The war with the Muslims in Tripoli lasted four years. During this war the exceptional bravery of the U.S. Marine Corps in dealing with Muslim pirates was noted by every nation around the world which led to the line "to the shores of Tripoli" being included in the Marine Corps Hymn. Both the English and French started running up US Flags on their merchant ships’ masts whenever they entered the Mediterranean Sea. They knew that by flying an American flag it would insure safe travels for their crews and ships.<br /><br />Because of all those fierce battles the Marines had with the Muslims during this period - Marines became known as "leathernecks". Why? After engaging in a few battles with the Muslims, Marines had heavy leather collars sewn on to their uniforms. These heavy leather collars were designed to prevent their heads from easily being cut off by Muslims pirates with their scimitars when Marines boarded their pirate ships.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now Jefferson had always been a very religious man and was well aware that America was a nation of religious tolerance. In fact Jefferson, himself, co-authored the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom. However to him, and most of the civilized countries in the world, fundamentalist Islam was like no other religion. Islam was a religion based solely on its self-proclaimed supremacy over all other religions. The Quran - the Muslim holy book not only condoned … but mandated - violence against non-believers of Islam and that was totally unacceptable to Jefferson.<br /><br />Thomas Jefferson’s greatest fear upon leaving the office of President was that someday radical Islamist would return. He believed Muslims would pose more threats on the United States and its citizens as time went on. <br /><br /> Ironically we now know that Muslims who have immigrated to the United States over the past two decades have petitioned their units of local government, their local school boards and their State Governments to have women-only classes in public schools – which has been approved in many US school districts. We now know Muslims have petitioned to have women only swimming times in city and universities pools - which we also know has been approved in many American communities. <br /><br />Muslim have successfully petitioned their local court systems that Christians, Jews, and Hindus cannot serve on juries where Muslim defendants are being judged - which even though this is hard to believe it has actually been agreed to in many American communities and several states. We know that Piggy banks, facial tissue dispensers, wall clocks and computer screen savers with Porky Pig images on them are now banned from many workplaces because they are deemed offensive to Islamist sensibilities – and this too has been approved in several American communities and a host of federal and state government offices.<br /><br /> In the private sector ice cream desserts that were sold at many Burger Kings are now banned because the picture on the BK wrapper looked to similar to an Arabic script for the word Allah – and BK agreed to remove these ice cream treats from many of its locations. Finally many school boards have agreed to remove pork meals, pork sandwiches and pork sausage from their school lunch menus at elementary, middle and high schools. <br /><br />Jefferson believed it was wrong not to fighting back radical Muslims and not to insist that all newly arrived Islamists' adapt to American culture. He feared the United States would be cutting its own throat with a politically correct knife if we caved in to radical Muslim demands. He was unyielding - that not fighting Islam zealots would only help further the Islamists' agenda in America in the future.<br /><br />As we all well know there are many of America's leaders today – in Washington, in State Capital and at Local government levels, who don’t share President Jefferson’s opinions. Sadly, the vast majority of our government and political leaders today still prefer to be appease and be politically correct rather than confront any Muslim threat!<br /><br /><span style="color: red;"><b>If you have any doubts about the above information then just Google "Thomas Jefferson vs. the Muslim World." (Check out all this for yourself.)</b></span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-84500129552896464242016-08-22T06:11:00.000-07:002016-08-22T06:24:55.902-07:00The Day Mrs. Thompson Quick Teaching<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Mrs. Thompson stood in front of
her fifth grade class on the first day of school and told a lie, a big lie
- the biggest lie she had ever told as she welcomed the students. She said that she would treat all the
students the same. But she knew there was one student she would not treat
the same - his name was Teddy Stoddard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">The school district had hired Ms. Thompson the year before and she couldn't
help but notice Teddy’s behavior throughout the last year. He was a known
problem child with a lousy academic record. He didn’t play well with other
children; his clothes were always a mess; everyday he looked like he needed a
bath, and he had a bad attitude regarding everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Throughout the beginning weeks of the
semester, Mrs. Thompson delighted in marking Teddy’s papers with a broad red
pen and placing big<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><b>bold 'X's</b><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>on all his wrong answers. She smiled
every time she </span><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">put
a large 'F'<span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></span></span><span style="font-size: 18pt;">at the top of his papers as she wanted the
other students in class to be able to see his grade when she handed them out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unfortunately school policy required every teacher to review the academic records
of their students during the first week of December. Mrs. Thompson held
Teddy's file off until last. When she finally sat down to review his
file, she was taken aback. Teddy’s first grade teacher had written,
"Teddy is a bright child who does neat work and has excellent classroom
manners. He is a joy to have in my class - I will miss him next year."<br />
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His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an above average student who is
well liked by his classmates. He has been having trouble lately at home because
of his mother’s illness and life at home is really a struggle for Teddy." </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">His third grade teacher wrote, "His
mother's recent death has been very hard on Teddy. He tries hard to do
his best, but his father doesn't show much interest in him and I believe his
home life is going to be negatively impacted by these events."</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is a withdrawn child who doesn’t show much interest in school.
He has very few friends, often comes to class unprepared and is
frequently disruptive in class. He generally
wears dirty clothes and looks like a mess."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mrs. Thompson now felt ashamed of her behavior. She felt even worse a few weeks
later when her students all brought in their Christmas presents for her.
All were wrapped in brightly colored holiday papers and tied with fancy ribbons
except for one. Teddy's was gift was clumsily wrapped in brown paper from a
grocery bag and it had no ribbon. Mrs. Thompson decided to open Teddy’s
present first. Many of the children laughed when they saw a small rhinestone
bracelet with several stones missing and an old bottle of perfume which was barely
one 1/4 full; but Mrs. Thompson quickly stifled their laughter by commenting on
how beautiful the bracelet was as she put in on. She then dabbed some of
the perfume on each of her wrist, inhaled deeply and said it smells wonderful
Teddy – Thank You so much for this lovely gift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Before he left class that afternoon, Teddy slowly walked up to Mrs. Thompson's
desk, leaned in and said, "<i>I just want you to know you smell just like
my Mom use to.</i>" Then he quickly ran out of the classroom.
When all the other students left, Mrs. Thompson put her head down at the
desk and cried.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><u>This was the
day she vowed to quit teaching</u>. Never again she said would she teach her
students reading, writing or arithmetic, instead she would start teaching
children how to live.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The following Monday morning she began to pay special attention to Teddy in
class. As she worked with him, his mind came alive. The more she
encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the school year,
Teddy was one of the brightest students in her class. Despite "her lie to
treat all students the same," it was obvious Teddy was Mrs. Thompson
pet. The following year, Teddy transferred to the middle school and Mrs.
Thompson never saw Teddy again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Towards the end of the next school year,
Mrs. Thompson found a note under her door one night. It was a note from
Teddy. The note said “Dear Mrs. Thompson
you were the best teacher I ever had in my whole life – signed Teddy”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Seven years passed before she received
another note. This time Teddy wrote he had just finished high school -
third in his class - and that he would be going off to college - and that, by
the way Mrs. Thompson, you are still the best teacher I ever had in my whole
life. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Four more years went by when a third note from
Teddy arrived. It stated “I have just graduated
from college and am now going to medical school in this fall - and by the way
Mrs. Thompson, you are still the best teacher I ever had”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Several years passed before another letter arrived. In this typed letter,
Teddy stated he met a woman, a beautiful young lady, and he was going to get married
in June. He explained that his father had died a few years earlier and
was wondering if she, Mrs. Thompson, would agree to sit in the place of honor
reserved for the groom's parents at the head table on the night of his wedding.
This letter was signed Theodore J. Stoddard M.D.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Of course Mrs. Thomson agreed. When arrived at the plush wedding ceremony wearing
a beautiful dress on her wrist was an old rhinestone bracelet which had several
rhinestones missing. As she walked in
the room she carried a scent of a perfume that a young boy once said reminded
him of his mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Dr. Stoddard saw her and immediately came
forward and gave her a big hug. As he inhaled the fragrance of her
perfume, he whispered in her ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for making me
feel so important and thank you for making a difference in my life." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">With tear filled eyes Mrs. Thompson
whispered back "No Teddy you have it wrong. I need to thank you. I
want to thank you for what you taught me. Teddy you taught me I could make a
difference in other people’s lives."</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-54783776502210314012015-08-18T07:00:00.000-07:002018-01-17T11:49:55.066-08:00THE LAST CAB RIDE ... A Powerful Life Lesson Shared by a Cab Driver <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="mso-cellspacing: 0in; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 98%px;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few
minutes, I honked again.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Since this was my last fare for this shift I thought about just driving away, but
instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked hard.</span></span></div>
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<i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">"Just a minute</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">," answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something
being dragged across the floor; after a long pause, the door opened. A
small woman who must have been in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and
an old fashioned pillbox hat with a veil, like somebody out of a
1940's movie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">By her side was a small suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived
in it. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no
clocks on the walls, no knickknacks on the shelves or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled
with photos and glassware.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">"<em>Would you carry my bag out to the car young man?"</em> she asked. I took the
suitcase to the cab, then returned to help the woman walk to the cab. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward
the curb; all the while she kept thanking me for my kindness. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"It's
nothing,"</i> I told her. "<i>I just try to treat my passengers the way I would
want my mother to be treated." </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"Oh,
you're such a good boy,"</i> she said. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">When we got in the cab, she gave me the address she wanted and asked if I
could drive through downtown before we got there? "<i>Ma’am, it's not the shortest way,"</i> I
answered. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"Oh, I don't mind,"
she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice center."</i> I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes
were glistening. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"I don't have any family left,"</i> she continued in a soft voice. <i>"The
doctor says I don't have very long with all this cancer."</i> (I quietly reached over and shut off the
meter.)</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"What route would you like me to take?"</i> I asked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><em>"Any one you want,"</em> she
replied. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">For the next two hours, we just drove through the city. She pointed
out a building where she once worked as an elevator operator. Then we drove through a neighborhood where
she said she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">She had me pull up and stop in front of an old furniture warehouse that she said had once been a
ballroom where she had gone dancing as a young girl when she was in high school. As we drove, she would often ask me to drive slow in front
of a particular building or around a corner; sometimes she would ask me to just park and then she would stare
into the darkness and say nothing.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">At the first hint of sunlight she suddenly said, "<i>I'm tired; can we go to the Hospice Center now?"</i> We drove in silence to the
address she had given me. When we arrived it was a low building, kind of like a small
convalescent home with a long driveway that passed under a portico. As soon as I pulled in, two orderlies came running out. They were solicitous and very intent; they watched her every move. They obviously
were expecting her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I hopped out and opened the trunk and took her small suitcase to the
door. The orderlies had already seated her in a wheelchair. "<i>How much do I owe you young man?"</i> she asked reaching into her purse. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"Nothing,"</i> I answered. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"That’s not fair; you have to make a
living,"</i> she said. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"There are plenty
if other passengers,"</i> I responded.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Almost without thinking, I bent forward and gave her a hug and kissed her on the
cheek. She held onto me tightly. <i>"Young man, you gave an old woman a lot of joy
tonight,"</i> she said. </span></span><br />
<span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span><br />
<span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"<i>Thank you,"</i> I said as I squeezed her hand and walked back
to my cab.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />
Behind me, I heard a center door shut; it sounded like the closing of a life. For the rest of that day, I could hardly
talk. I thought what if that woman had gotten an angry cabbie or a driver who was
impatient and wanted to end his shift quickly?
What if a driver would had refused to take that late night run, or had honked only once,
then driven off?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Looking back on last night, I don't think that I have ever done anything
more important in my entire life. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Many of us think our lives revolve around great moments; but the truly </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">great moments in our lives often catch us when we least expect them – they
are often hidden in what others consider to be small things.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Remember; people may not always remember what you did for them or what you said to them but I no one ever forgets how you made them feel. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I am not going to ask you to share this story. All I want you to do is think about <u>The Last Cab Ride</u> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">and remember try to always remember that </span><b><span lang="DE" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">even though life is not always the party we had always hoped for while we are living it, we might
as well dance every chance we get.</span></span></b></div>
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<!--[endif]--></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-10420818707449570422015-04-07T09:30:00.000-07:002015-04-17T08:03:55.621-07:00The Beauty of a White Rose<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was killing time walking through a Big Bazaar type store, when I overheard a cashier tell a young boy who couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 years old, “<i>Son, I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll.</i>” <br />
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The little boy looked at the cashier and asked, “A<i>re you sure?</i>''</div>
</span><span style="font-size: large;">The cashier politely took time to count the boy's money again and replied, ''<i>You know that you don't have enough money to buy the doll, dear</i>.'' </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The little boy stood silent while still holding the doll in his arms. I walked over and asked him who he wished to buy the doll for. “<i>My sister. It is the doll she loved and wanted so much. I wanted to give it to her for her birthday on Friday</i>.”<br /><br />He went on to say; “<i>I have to have the doll today so I can give the doll to my Mommy tonight so that she can give it to my sister when she goes to live with her tonight. </i> <i>My sister has gone to live with God and Daddy says that Mommy will be going to live with God soon too so I thought Mommy could take the doll with her to give it to my sister on Friday</i>.''<br /><br />My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, "<i>I asked my Daddy to tell Mommy to wait until I come back with the doll.</i>” Then the little boy reached in his pocket and pulled out a picture of him laughing with a little girl and said, “<i>I want Mommy to take my picture with her so my sister won't forget me. I don’t want Mommy to leave me, but Daddy says that she has to go to be with my sister." </i>Then he squeezed the doll against his chest as tears fell from his eyes.<br /><br />I slowly put my hand in my pocket and grabbed a few bills I had and said, <i>"Son, suppose we count your money one more time just in case you do have enough money for the doll?'' </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"<em>Okay he said. I sure hope I do have enough." </em>As we counted his money, I discreetly added several of my dollar bills to his pile. When we were done counting, low and behold there was enough for the doll and even some money to spare.<br /><br />The boy looked up and quietly said, "<i>Thank you God for giving me enough money!</i>" Then he looked at me and added, "<i>Last night before I went to sleep I asked God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll for my sister.”</i> <i>I also wanted to ask him for some money to buy a white rose for my Mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for that because I thought I would be asking too much. But look what God did. He gave me enough to buy the doll and also enough to buy a white rose for Mommy because she loves white roses."</i><br /><br />I finished my shopping with a totally different state of mind from when I started. I couldn't get that little kid out of my mind. As I was checking out, I suddenly remembered a newspaper article from a few days earlier which mentioned a drunken driver hit a car occupied by a young woman and her little girl. The girl died at the scene but the mother was taken to the hospital and was in a critical condition. The family, I recall, was asked to make a decision whether to pull the plug on the life support machine because the woman would not be able to recover from her coma. I wondered if that was the family of the little boy who wanted to buy his sister a doll.<br /><br />The next day on my way to work I bought a paper. A story featured on the front page was about a young woman who passed late last night because her family had instructed her doctors to pull the plug. I don’t know why but during my lunch break - I went to a nearby florist and bought a dozen white roses and drove to the funeral home that was listed in the paper. The room was full and up front was a casket for family and friends to make their last visit before the burial would occur. <br /><br />I walked towards the casket and as I neared it I saw a young lady holding a beautiful a white rose in her hand. Next to the rose was a photo of a little boy and a girl laughing and over her chest was placed a doll – a doll I had seen the night before. I immediately turned around and left the funeral home as my eyes filled with tears. On that day I learned the simple beauty of a while rose and a little toy doll. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-72659439888787511692015-04-02T07:45:00.000-07:002018-11-12T16:45:07.412-08:00Who Was That Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A nurse on the intensive care ward took the tired and anxious looking serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Heavily sedated because of the pain he was experiencing, he dimly saw a young man in uniform standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The young man wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp hand and squeezed a message of love and encouragement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The nurse brought a chair so the young military man could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young man sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the young man take a break and go for a walk; however he refused.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the uniformed man was oblivious to her and all the other night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words to the dying man who said nothing, all he did was hold on tightly to his son's hand all through the night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Along towards dawn, the old man died. The young man released the now lifeless man's hand he had been holding all night and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, the young man patiently waited.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Finally, she turned to the young man and started to offer words of sympathy, but the man in uniform interrupted her and asked "Who was that man?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The nurse was startled, "Why he was your father," she answered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"No Ma' am', he wasn't my father, "I never saw this man before in my life. My dad is doing fine I just saw him yesterday."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Then why didn't you say something when I took you into his room?" asked the nurse. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The young man replied "I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew that man needed his son at his side and his son wasn't here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I realized he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son and knowing how much he needed someone to be at his side, I just stayed." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey; his son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him. What was this gentleman's name? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The nurse, with tears in her eyes, answered, "Son, that was Mr. Grey." </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-63471437343761357302015-02-11T10:31:00.000-08:002015-02-11T17:20:48.521-08:00The First Presidential Limousine - You Won't Believe It!<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-ZA"><b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>It's been a while since I have posted on this blog. December was hectic and January just took off. I am sorry. Hopefully you will find this story fascinating and share it with your family and friends. Gabe </i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just hours after Pearl Harbor was attacked on December 7, 1941, the Secret Service found itself with a major dilemma - an unusual problem. President Franklin D. Roosevelt asked to speak to an emergency session of Congress on Tuesday morning, December 9. He chose to wait until Tuesday to address Congress as he wanted as many of the elected state representatives present and wanted to give them time to get back to Washington when he made his address to the nation. This joint session on December the 9th is where he gave his powerful “<i>This is a Day That Will Live on in Infamy</i>” speech. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Though the actual trip from the White House to Capitol Hill was short, Secret Service agents at the time were concerned about his personal safety. Standard vehicles had always been used to transport the President wherever he travelled; however now with the possibility of war pending, they thought a more secure and safer mode of transportation should be used.<br /><br />Federal Laws in place at the time prohibited government agencies and departments from purchasing vehicles that cost more than $750. The only recourse the Secret Service had was to get emergency authority and funding from Congress to purchase a safer vehicle; however </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">with all the mayhem erupting in Washington, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">nobody had time for that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />As luck would have it, one of the older (<i>or should we say long-term</i>) agents working for the Secret Service, remembered the US Treasury Department had seized a bulletproof car from a mobster a few years ago that might work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The mobster they seized the vehicle from was none other than Al Capone - the famous Chicago crime boss. Capone, you may recall, was sent to prison in 1931 for tax evasion. He failed to file and pay taxes on $150,000 of income he earned from his illegal operations. The car the Treasury Department seized from Al Capone was now sitting in a Washington D.C. warehouse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Capone’s seized car was a 1928 Cadillac Town Sedan which had a V-8 engine. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrW2xhVXTAyrRX_virpo5ExGqOiehyphenhyphenJ-UOOSf1w6-v4DFRxx8wPJdn2Y6jJAXPAsMXMUFYZ458UDoPpcm4kb_LBfH7NN3F9-AywEKYe56Lkr6kbIjt5rnUb0aTq2K93C13CdhSN8uvbNE/s1600/back+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrW2xhVXTAyrRX_virpo5ExGqOiehyphenhyphenJ-UOOSf1w6-v4DFRxx8wPJdn2Y6jJAXPAsMXMUFYZ458UDoPpcm4kb_LBfH7NN3F9-AywEKYe56Lkr6kbIjt5rnUb0aTq2K93C13CdhSN8uvbNE/s1600/back+view.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Interestingly, Capone had his car painted black and green to look identical to the Chicago police vehicles of that era. Capone also had the 1928 Cadillac Town Sedan modified with 3,000 pounds of armor plating and one-inch thick bulletproof glass. Furthermore, he had a police siren and flashing lights installed behind the front grille of the vehicle which he used often to speed his way through Chicago’s congested traffic quickly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Throughout Sunday night, all day Monday, and all of Monday night mechanics and Secret Service agents labored to clean the car and make sure it was in perfect running condition. On Tuesday morning, December 9, they had Capone’s car ready to transport President Franklin Roosevelt to Capitol Hill. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje55sD5DQq1Ww2ApXNiZmGOs0TKt7VlHDx2evK1fxJ6nklYPd6aIX85pNG-rlokiv1Ojvy2hKHROHYz5Rn5z6EemdY1kkzcds06n-Ndw6AmoIQhMbU3WH4QC2DYwyVwKdtiiRdKhlwGGE/s1600/back+seat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje55sD5DQq1Ww2ApXNiZmGOs0TKt7VlHDx2evK1fxJ6nklYPd6aIX85pNG-rlokiv1Ojvy2hKHROHYz5Rn5z6EemdY1kkzcds06n-Ndw6AmoIQhMbU3WH4QC2DYwyVwKdtiiRdKhlwGGE/s1600/back+seat.jpg" height="198" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The point we should all remember from this fascinating little story is: <b><i>The very first "Official" White House Limousine ever used to transport a US President was a bulletproof Cadillac, formerly owned by the notorious Chicago gangster, Al Capone. </i></b></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-87545144788834635962014-12-05T19:59:00.000-08:002014-12-05T19:59:15.605-08:00Want to get in the Christmas Spirit?? Watch this wonderful short clip -- its amazing <br />
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<a href="http://www.littlethings.com/air-force-surprise/" target="_blank"> A Great Air Force Surprise</a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-42443817727446101672014-11-11T15:21:00.003-08:002014-11-15T06:44:25.807-08:00One of The Worse Stories We Have To Tell<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many of us, especially those close to my age, can easily remember that terrible disease polio. Several of us saw family members, relatives, neighbors and colleagues afflicted by this terrible illness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rotary International, an Organization which I am active in and proud to be a member, has been trying to eradicate this disease from the planet for years. Please take a moment and review the poster below. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hopefully you will see that there may be a light at the end of this long tunnel and the tragic story may have a happy ending. I know today is Veteran's Day and we should all focus on thanking the Vets we know who served. But maybe tomorrow or the next day, if you see a Rotarian in your community, you might just want to say thanks as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Gabe Gabrielsen</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-59739193345873927302014-11-08T10:58:00.000-08:002014-11-09T09:52:49.173-08:00Seven Mentors Who Changed My Life<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Warning:</b> Read this story with care. The thoughts I share are not intended for everyone. They are meant for public officials, organizational leaders and career-focused professionals who truly want to make a difference.</span></i><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would not have accomplished much in my life had I not followed the advice of seven great mentors. Their insights allowed me to understand my role and overcome the obstacles I confronted. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What they shared allowed me to gain success beyond my wildest dreams. The only regret I have is that I never had the opportunity to personally meet these mentors and thank them for the impact they made on my life. <br /><br />My first mentor was <b><i>Nicolaus Copernicus. </i></b>Copernicus, a Polish monk born in the late 1400’s, stood on the shore to watch a sunset. As the sun set, he realized the earth could not be the center of the universe and he openly challenged the common belief that the earth was the center of the universe. He was ridiculed by his colleagues and chastised by the Church; however, Copernicus remained firm in his convictions. He <strong>challenged</strong> <b>the status quo</b> and in doing so, he re-shaped the concept of how we view the universe today. <br /><br />My second mentor was <b><i>Frederick Taylor</i></b>. Taylor, a mechanical engineer, always looked for ways to improve organizational efficiencies. Taylor was approached by a coal company that wanted to increase their output of coal. For several days, Taylor sat and observed coal miners; he studied how they dug out the coal and loaded it on the rail cars. Much to the coal mine’s surprise, Taylor recommended every miner be issued smaller shovels with long handles. The coal mine's management laughed - they insisted larger shovels resulted in more coal. Taylor countered saying 25 lb. shovel scoops tire workers out quickly and by mid-morning most were exhausted; however, 15 lb. shovel scoops would not fatigue the miners and they would be able to easily lift 15 lb. shovels full all day - at a brisk pace. His point was <b>give employees the proper tools</b> and they can accomplish more.<br /><br />Next was my mentor <b><i>Dale Carnegie</i></b>. Carnegie, a simple Missouri farm boy, noticed successful leaders share two things in common. First, they know a lot of people and second they feel at ease speaking in public. Carnegie believed “<b>career success</b>” could be <b>accelerated</b> if people would just reach out and <b><u>meet new people</u></b> and <u><b>speak clearly in public</b></u>.<br /><br />The fourth mentor who accelerated my career was <b><i>Evelyn Wood</i></b>. Evelyn, a high school English teacher, had the wisdom to foresee that more and more of what Americans learned came from books - what they read. She noticed successful people read quickly and retain most of what they read. Her contribution to my career growth was that she created the Evelyn Wood’s Speed Reading Dynamics Course. Her simple course taught people (including myself) how to <b><u>increase reading speed</u></b> and <b><u>improve retention</u></b> of what was read.<br /><br />Though not impressed at first, I came to revere <b><i>Arthur Murray</i></b> as one of my most influential mentors. Arthur, a draftsman by trade, noticed that successful people had great social skills; none were "wall flowers". He believed careers were limited when people lack social graces – especially dancing skills – yes dancing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Murray was so passionate about the correlation between good dancing and career success he created a worldwide franchise of dance schools - places where everyday business men and women could learn to dance. People who attended Arthur Murray’s dance schools were able to <b><u>broadcast</u></b> their <b><u>social talent</u></b> at civic functions. His students included Eleanor Roosevelt, John D. Rockefeller, the Duke of Windsor, prize fighter Jack Dempsey and of course yours truly Gabe Gabrielsen. <br /><br />My sixth mentor was <b><i>Elmer Wheeler</i></b>. Wheeler, an advertising and marketing professional, believed knowledge and experience meant very little if no one bought into your ideas. Elmer coined a phrase "Sell the sizzle – not the steak." He suggested people never wave raw meat in front of a person; show the completed meal - salad, potatoes, dessert and wine. <br /><br />When a small tire manufacturer in Ohio wanted to go after a share of the global tire market, Mr. Wheeler advised him not to sell tires in their ads. He believed the only way consumers would leave Goodyear and Goodrich and buy his tires was if he would <b><u>sell the benefits</u></b> of this new tire. Benefits like "peace of mind", "dependability", and most important, "family safety". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That small tire manufacturer took Elmer’s advice and today people around the world know that, “Wherever wheels are turning – no matter what the load – the name that’s known is Firestone … when the rubber meets the road, drive a Firestone."<br /><br />Finally, the mentor with the greatest impact on my career was <b><i>Dr. David Schwartz</i></b>. Schwartz, a professor at Georgia State University, sadly realized not all his students would accomplish amazing things. In fact, the vast majority, after graduating, just blended in even though they had stellar academic records and a prestigious degree. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Schwartz concluded only the students who believed they could accomplish big things were the ones who did. Schwartz convinced me to believe in the <strong><u>magic of thinking big.</u></strong> Schwartz never saw the problem as too many chiefs; he saw the problem as too many Indians.<br /><br />Well, there you have Gabe’s seven mentors and the powerful insights they shared:<br /><br />1) <b>Challenge the status quo</b>.<br /><br />2) <b>Give your employees the right tools</b> so they can succeed and accomplish more.<br /><br />3) <b>Win friends and influence people</b>.<br /><br />4) <b>Learn to read fast and retain what you read</b>.<br /><br />5) <b>Exhibit social graces</b> and <b>learn to be a great dancer.</b><br /><br />6) <b>Sell the sizzle</b> – not the steak; never dangle unfinished products in front of someone.<br /><br />7) <b>Think big</b> – and remember, “If you think it can’t be done” … you are right. “If you think it can be done”… you are right.<br /><br />My hope is that some of you can adopt a few of these sage principals.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-4194054761661962702014-10-07T09:35:00.002-07:002018-01-17T12:07:05.845-08:00Should I Take Him Back To The Pound?<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I took a new job because I thought it would be good for my career and the pay raise was great, but something was missing. Sure the people I worked with and met on the street were always friendly but when I got home, I always felt some what alone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One Thursday night I saw a commercial about dogs in the animal shelter and thought maybe a dog would be a good companion for me. So on Saturday morning I went down to the shelter. It was clean and the staff was friendly. After a lengthy discussion about my lifestyle and work schedule, the staff led me to a black Lab called Reggie. They thought Reggie and I would be a good fit and suggested I take him home. They said give him two weeks. If things don’t work out, you can bring Reggie back. <br /><br />I agreed and so I took Reggie home. They gave me all his things: a dog pad, his water and food dish, a large box of tennis balls and a sealed envelope with a letter from his previous owner enclosed. <br /><br />I have to admit Reggie and I struggled; we really didn’t hit it off. The problem was he wouldn’t go anywhere without having two tennis balls in his mouth and he would only sometimes follow the commands I gave him - like sit, stay, come and heel. The worst part though was that he never listened when I called his name. I would have to say it four or five times to get him to look in my direction, but then he would go on doing whatever he was doing<br /><br />After two weeks, I decided I was going to take Reggie back to the shelter. I just knew having him wasn’t going to work out. As I gathered up his things, his pad, the food dishes and all those damn tennis balls, I found that sealed letter the shelter had given me from his previous owner. I sat down on the sofa and opened the envelope. I said, “Okay Reggie, let’s see if your previous owner has any advice to make things work better for us before I take you back to the shelter.” I opened the letter and here is what I read:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /><br />“Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this letter. I made it clear to the people at the animal shelter that it should only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. If you are reading this, it means you are Reggie’s new owner. I have to tell you Reggie knew something was different when we left for the car ride to the shelter. When I packed up his pad and toys and set them by the back door this morning, he knew something was wrong. And something is wrong . . . which is why I have to try and make it right with this letter.<br /><br />Let me tell you about Reggie - my wonderful Lab - in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.<br /><br />First, Reggie really does love tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth at any time, and he tries to get a third in there. He hasn’t done it yet; and it doesn’t matter where you throw them, he’ll always run after them, so be very careful – don’t throw them near any roads. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost him dearly when he ran out in front of a car.<br /><br />Next, "Commands". Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I’ll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones – “sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.” He knows hand signals as well. When you put your hand straight up, it means go “back”. If you want him to “roll over”, put your hand out and turn it right or left. If you want a “paw” or “high-five”, put your hand up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He does “down” when you say down but only if he feels like lying down – I bet you could work with him on that to get it perfect. He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business. I’ve always trained Reggie with small treats. Nothing gets his attention like little pieces of a hot dog.<br /><br />The feeding schedule I had him on was twice a day -- once about seven in the morning and again at six in the evening. I gave him regular store-bought food. The shelter should have the brand.<br /><br />He’s up to date on his shots. Please call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with your information; they’ll make sure to send you reminders for when he’s due for future checkups. Be fore warned: Reggie really hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car – I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he always knows.<br /><br />Finally, give him some time. I’ve never been married, so it’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so try to include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people.<br /><br />This transition for him may be hard - having to go to live with someone new, so please give him time to adjust. And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you . . .<br /><br />His name’s not Reggie.<br /><br />I don’t know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter this morning I told the staff his name was Reggie. He’s a smart dog and he’ll get used to it and will respond to it. I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. For me to do that seemed so final. Handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting that I’d never see him again. And if I end up coming back, getting him back, and tearing up this letter, it means everything went fine. But if someone else - like you - is reading it, well . . . well it means that his new owner should know his real name. It’ll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you’ll even notice a change in his demeanor if he’s been giving you any problems with the name Reggie.<br /><br />His real name is Tank. Because that is what I drive.<br /><br />Again, if you’re reading this and you’re from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. See, my parents both passed away and I have no siblings - no one I could have left Tank with . . . and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Afghanistan, that they have someone make one phone call to the shelter . . . in the “event” . . . to let the shelter staff know that Tank could be put up for adoption.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Luckily, my squad leader is a dog guy and he said if anything happened to me, he would personally make the call to the shelter. And if you’re reading this letter, then he made good on his word; he called the shelter and told them I would not be coming back for Tank.<br /><br />Well, this letter is getting too downright depressing, even though I’m just writing it for my dog. I couldn’t imagine if I was writing this letter for a wife or kids, but Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as I have been in the Army.<br /><br />I hope and pray that you will make Tank part of your family; I am sure he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me. That unconditional love I got from Tank is what I am taking with me. His love is an inspiration for me to do something important, to protect innocent people from those who would do terrible things to America . . . and to keep those terrible people from ever coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in order to do that, then I am glad to have done so. <br /><br />All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. I don’t think I’ll say another good-bye to Tank though. I cried too much earlier today the first time I had to say goodbye. Maybe I’ll just peek in on him to see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth. <br /><br />Good luck with Tank. Please give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss good night – every night – just from me.<br /><br />Thank you.<br /><br />Paul Mallory<br /> <br />************</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />When I finished reading the letter, I looked over at Reggie who was lying on his pad and said, “<b><i>Tank Come Here</i></b>.” Tank quickly filled his mouth with "three tennis balls" and ran over to me. He jumped up on the sofa and put his head on my lap. I decided right then = <i>I am not taking Tank back to shelter</i>.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-36865124731321682692014-09-30T09:01:00.000-07:002018-11-12T12:41:56.194-08:00A Truly Fascinating Story For All Business Travelers Who Fly In To or Out Of Chicago's O'Hare Airport<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Many years ago, Al Capone, the notorious Chicago gangster, was involved in everything from booze to prostitution to murder. Capone had a personal lawyer nicknamed "<i>Easy Eddie</i>" and Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering was the primary reason Big Al was kept out of jail for so many years.<br /><br />Capone paid Eddie well and Eddie sure did live the high life. He and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion that filled an entire Chicago city block. Though involved deeply with the mob, Eddie had one soft spot - that was his son whom he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son "Little Eddie" had the finest clothes, toys, cars and a great good education. Despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie tried his best to teach Little Eddie right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to grow up to be a good man.<br /><br />As the years went bye, Eddie decided to rectify the wrongs he had done and went to the authorities to tell the truth about Al Capone so he could clean up his tarnished name and offer his son some semblance of integrity. Eddie knew the cost for testifying against the mob would be great ... and he was right. Within less then a year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago side street. But in his eyes, Eddie gave his son a great gift. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u>Now here is an unrelated --- but necessary parallel to the above story ---- please read I promise you won't be disappointed</u>. </span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Navy Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare, a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific. One day Butch's squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, Butch looked at his fuel gauge and realized the ground crew did not top off his fuel tank. Butch knew he would not have enough fuel to complete the assigned mission and notified his flight leader who ordered Butch to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, Butch dropped out of formation and headed back towards the fleet.<br /><br />On returning to the fleet, Butch noticed a squadron of Japanese aircraft off in the distance heading toward the fleet. Since all the fleet’s fighters were out on their missions, the fleet was now virtually defenseless. Though Butch tried to raise his squadron leader on the radio to bring the planes back in time to save the fleet he couldn't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was only one thing for Butch do … and that was he had to try and stop the Japanese planes from attacking the fleet by himself. Without hesitation or regard for his personal safety, Butch dove into the formation of enemy aircraft with his wing-mounted 50 caliber's guns ablaze. He attacked one surprised Japanese aircraft after another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired shot down as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent.<br /><br />Even though his ammo was gone, Butch continued his assault on the Japanese planes by diving at them, trying to clip a wing or hit their vertical tails in hopes of damaging them and rendering them unfit to fly. Totally exasperated, all the remaining Japanese aircraft headed home without even conducting their mission. Tragically Butch ran out of fuel and he and his plane perished in the ocean.<br /><br />When news of Butch’s heroic efforts reached his home town the towns people unanimously vowed never to allow the memory of this WWII hero to fade from their memory. So they decided to name their city airport in honor of him. That's right the City of Chicago decided to pay tribute to its most courageous native son of WWII.<br /><br />So for all you travelers who happen to fly in or out of Chicago's "O'Hare Airport" here is my personal recommendation: The next time you find yourself waiting for a flight at O'Hare Airport, give some serious thought to visiting Butch’s memorial - i</span><span style="font-size: large;">t's located between Terminals 1 and 2.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> Take a moment and good look at both his statue and his Medal of Honor. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><b><i>NOW YOU MAY BE ASKING --- GABE WHAT THE HELL DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE IN COMMON? </i></b><br /><br />Butch the Medal of Honor winner is Edward O'Hare Jr. - the son of "Easy Eddie".</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-15317714197103395262014-09-12T19:30:00.000-07:002017-02-19T07:01:37.978-08:00IS IT OKAY TO LIE? <span class="text">Two elderly men were admitted to a long-term care facility and just by chance were assigned to share a room. One had been involved in a car accident and suffered extensive internal injuries and was not expected live; the other had advanced heart disease and had undergone triple bypass surgery and had a 30% chance of recovery. </span><br />
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<span class="text">The accident victim lost his sight and was restricted to his bed. The heart patient however was required to get out of bed at at 10: 45 each day and walk around the room. So on that first day just before lunch the heart patient painfully placed his feet on the floor. </span><br />
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<span class="text">As soon the blind patient heard his roommate out of his bed he asked, "<i>Would you do me a favor and go to the window and look outside? Please tell me all the wonderful things you see.</i>" The heart patient slowly walked toward the window, pulled back the blinds and related the sights he saw. He'd describe the birds and animals playing across the street in the city park then to the delight of his roommate he described all the people walking down the street.<br /><br />On the second day, the heart patient, while looking out the window noticed the strange actions of a young man who was sitting on the rim of beautiful water fountain not far from an attractive young lady eating her lunch on a park bench.<br /><br />The next day the heart patient could see the young man on the fountain sat a little closer and it was obvious the woman noticed. Soon they were engaging in conversations. On the fourth day the heart patient saw the couple sharing their lunches and holding hands; he thought perhaps a relationship was about to start. </span><br />
<span class="text"><br />During that night, the heart patient unexpectedly died from complications and his personal possessions were quickly removed from the room. Early the next morning a new patient, a young man with a broken arm, was moved in.<br /><br />As lunch time neared the blind man asked his new roommate if he would go to the window and describe what was taking place outside - he particularly wanted to know about the type of birds in the park and what the young couple having lunch by the fountain were doing. The new roommate hopped out of bed and briskly walked over to the window.<br /><br />He pulled back the blinds, starred for several seconds then began to laugh uncontrollably. "<em>Why are you laughing?"</em> asked the blind patient<em>.</em> "<i>Because you asked me to tell you what was going on outside our window. Our window faces the side of another building and there is nothing we can see but a solid brick wall. There is nothing of interest out there.</i>"</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-623403313322442144.post-60850205728158900232014-09-01T07:51:00.001-07:002017-03-13T17:44:41.311-07:00The Best or Worst Government Job? You tell me.<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Most Americans know there is monument in Washington DC located in Arlington National Cemetery. It was erected solely to pay homage to unknown American soldiers who lost their lives in military battles. Most of us refer to this monument as the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier or Soldiers; however, its official name, as designated by Congress, is <b>The Tomb of the Unknowns</b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">To help us better appreciate this monument and the men and women who guard it - everyday- I am sharing and interesting story you might find of value.<br /><br />During 2003, as Hurricane Isabelle approached the east coast and threatened to devastate Washington, members of the US Senate and US House scurried to evacuate the DC area and for the first time in history the Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staffs made a decision to allow the military sentinels assigned to The Tomb of the Unknowns to suspend their duties and evacuate the area as well.<br /><br />Without hesitation every one of the guards respectfully declined to abandon their posts – they all volunteered to stay and continue to man their posts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For two days the guards on duty were subjected to hurricane force winds and were pelted relentlessly with rain as they walked their posts ... however, every guard continued to walk his post. Their refusal to suspend their guard duties means The Tomb has been continuously guarded 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, since it was inaugurated in 1930. <br /><br />Now if you enjoyed this short story, you might find this trivia regarding </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>The Tomb of the Unknowns</b></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> of </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">interest as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Individuals selected for Tomb Guard Duty must serve a two - year assignment. Before accepting their post, each sentinel swears an oath they will not drink any alcohol on or off duty while serving their assignment. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Military personnel who apply to be a Tomb Guard must be between 5' 10' and 6' 2' tall and have a waist size that does not exceed 30 inches.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Newly assigned guards are required to study and memorize the 175 notable people laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. Among the notables interned at Arlington are:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">--- President William Taft</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">--- President John F Kennedy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">--- Audie L. Murphy, Medal of Honor winner and the </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">most decorated soldier of WWII</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">--- Joe Lewis, former heavy weight boxing champ - Sgt US Army</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">--- Abner Doubleday, Civil War General and founder</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> of American Baseball</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">--- Lee Marvin, American actor PFC USMC WWII - Purple Heart recipient. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Each guard is issued a specially designed pair of shoes that has extra thick soles. The thick soles on their shoes prevent their feet from being affected by the heat or cold. In addition, their shoes have metal heel plates that extend all the way to the top of the shoe to ensure a loud, distinctive click when the guards come to a halt</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Every guard is required to wear gloves while on duty. Guards wet their gloves before reporting for duty to prevent their hands from losing their grip on the rifle they carry.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Within the Tomb lies one “Unknown” from World War I who was awarded the Medal of Honor.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Three Greek figures adorn the Tomb; one figure represents Peace, another Victory, and the last Valor.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Inscribed on the tomb are these words:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><b style="font-size: x-large;">HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER KNOWN BUT TO GOD.</b><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Tomb Guards carry M-14 rifles, all with hand-made rifle stocks. The stocks on these weapons were made by Tomb Guards. Each guard is required to clean his rifle daily and keep it ready for use at all times </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Guards take exactly 21 steps to cross The Tomb – the 21 steps symbolize a twenty-one gun salute. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>{The custom of a 21 gun salute stems from a naval tradition. When a warship encountered a friendly vessel it would fire all its cannons harmlessly out to sea, until all canon ammunition was spent. This act showed the ship was disarmed and signified the lack of any hostile intent. As military customs evolved - 21 shots became the norm.}</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;">After walking across the Tomb, guards execute an “about-face” then pause 21 seconds before they begin their return walk back across The Tomb.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Guards always carry their rifles on the shoulder facing away from The Tomb. After they walk across The Tomb and execute an “about-face” – the guards ceremoniously move their rifles to the outside shoulder.<br /><br />Since 1948, Tomb Guards have been assigned to a special platoon within the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment known as <b><i>The Old Guard.</i></b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">During the winter months Tomb guards change shifts every 60 minutes – during the sweltering summer months Tomb guards change their shifts every 30 minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">After Arlington National cemetery closes to the public (7 p.m. to 8 a.m. April through September and 5 p.m. to 8 a.m. October through March); the sentinels continue to walk their posts. That's right - T</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">he Tomb is guarded twenty-four hours a day - 365 days a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />When a guard successfully completes his initial two-year assignment, he or she is awarded a “special lapel pin” – a small distinct wreath – which they can wear on their military uniform for life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This small unique “wreath” signifies to all that they served as "<u>A Guard of the Tomb".</u></span></div>
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