This is part 4 of my "Gregory's Two Americas" column's being featured on NWW News page. I wish I could tell you about some of the responses that I have received, very moving and I sometimes wonder if I am ready for the unexpected responsibilities of this kind of reporting. Anyway, here is my last column just released on NWW, News page today:
Going back to my early years and reaching deep into my memory bank of my “Two Americas” takes me back to when I was about 4 or 5 years old. As I reported earlier, at that age my father was a Captain in the Army Air Corps as a logistics officer. His dream was to be a pilot but due to his being color blind, he was disqualified. Probably a good thing as pilots did not have a great life span in those days. But my dad, as many other dad’s and mom’s who wore the uniforms of their country, did so not because they were concerned about their life span. They did so out of duty, love of country, a devotion to serving a country that gave hope to so many as they were entering from all over the world since this great land became America, land of the free. My America is one worth giving one’s life for, not wasted, but when called on as a result of a real threat, as in both World War I and II, along with each police action our government believed would prevent a war of far more consequence than if ignored. I should not leave out the very real war we are currently in, against what this administration refuses to call, but I will, “Terrorists”! To better understand the full impact of what I am suggesting, I recommend that if you have not seen it, check it out and watch a great move called “The Patriot” with Mel Gibson. It will leave you with a feeling of just what price our forefathers paid for this great country that would be called “America” and finally, the “United States of America”.
This was the beginning of the America I refer to as “My America” and my America is the one I believe is the better of the Two Americas my columns are all about. I happen to believe that when one steps out of my America, into the darkness of the “Other America” it is easily seen why I believe in the America that I think most Americans believe in. This is an America worth fighting for, dying for, and most importantly, living for. There are those who have doubts, and wonder is it worth it. To those who are contemplating the value of this country, just reflect on what you know about what she stands for, the wonder of our amazing Constitution, and the incredible men who wrote it, along with the Bill of Rights. How these documents stood the test of time, and now, in these current uncertain days, there are those who would dismantle the “Constitution” and “Bill of Rights” and in the words of our own current President, “Transform” America, and to redistribute the wealth and power. Is there really that many who voted for this man called “Barack Hussein OBama”, who really voted for the changes that he is demanding, no “Dictating” to take place?
If you only watch the “Main Stream Media” you would think that Obama’s America, and believe me, there is no doubt in this old soldier’s mind that his America is nothing like my America, is going to be great. I really don’t think it is like the America that many who voted for him is. The complicit villains in this tragic sequence of events are our congress, both House and Senate. Those I used to believe in, those I trusted to protect “We the People” from Presidents who were elected out of popularity rather than substance or a sense of duty to honor and respect the office he or she is elected too. The sad truth is we have cowards who are without a spine afraid to respect their own oaths that they took on being elected to serve as our representatives, and ensure that what is happening right now does not happen. These are intelligent men and women who understand and know what is taking place, with apathetic indifference. We must never allow this to happen again, if it is not too late and this current president has not already taken us down a road that dead ends into bankrupting what should be the most prosperous country in the world.
I apologize; I got off course and that 4 or 5 year old boy (me) and his 6 or 7 year old sister back at the beginning wondering if their story will be told. Two kids, brother and sister, who nearly set the apartment, on the second floor, that they lived in, on fire, playing a game in the closet of their bedroom. The relevance of their story has to do with my “Two Americas” as we saw it through the eyes of children, lucky enough to be born to a wonderful mother and father. We were playing in the closet, playing with matches, setting the “tie-belt” of my sister’s white “mink” stole. The idea was to set the end of the belt on fire, easy to do with a fur belt, and clap it out with our hands. Well, on the very first try we failed, the fire started and my hero sister ran out of the closet, shutting the door, leaving me still inside. Judy ran into the next room, which was kind of a sitting room off my mom and dad’s bedroom, where a baby grand piano was, with my father playing at it, the best he knew how, as my sister approached and stood there saying smoke, daddy, smoke. My father not understanding ask my sister to take him to the “Smoke” and she did, and when they opened the closet door, the oxygen ignited the fire even more, and I came walking out of the closet, saying “moke daddy, moke” and I am sure he understood as he slammed the door closed and called the fire department. I won’t go into the details of our punishment, it would be just to embarrassing and humiliating, which just telling this story is in its self.
So, how does this relate to my America? Well, the Austrian family that owned the apartment loved us (because we were Americans) so much for liberating them (sound familiar, does Iraq, and Afghanistan ring any bells?) and moved us downstairs, thanking God that none of us were injured. That was my America, the America that helped liberate most if not all of Europe from a “Marxist, Fascist Dictator called “Hitler” and I am now, at 65 years old, watching my America, gradually being “Transformed” (President Obama’s words, not mine) into something close to what that wonderful women who not only owned the apartment, but took care of us (in her words) very dangerous children, was so happy to be liberated from.
Many years later, I would take my wife, my sister and her husband, back and visit with Frau Feurkel, who not only remembered my mom and Dad, but very much remembered Judy and me. Recalling how I drove without a map and an address that had long since changed, in Vienna, the largest city Austria, guided through this five year old’s memory of where I enjoyed my youth so very much, as I parked right in front of the apartment building. It was only after wondering the streets and finding a local police station, giving them the old address, as they were just about to throw out the old maps, found the new one and directed us to the building we were hunting. I had parked right in front of the gate to the apartment building. Frau Feurkel, who only worked there now one day a week, was doing what I always remembered her doing, working in the garden. As I walked up to ask her about Frau Feurkel (not recognizing her) I told her we used to live her, and she kept replying no, you no live here. Then, looking at us closer, said, Captain Gregory, your father Captain Gregory. When I said yes, she said, you Milton, then looking at my sister said, you Judy, and we all hugged and cried together. She looked at us for a moment, and then said you very dangerous! I said, you mean “mischievous” to which she replied, yes mischievous, but very dangerous, then hugged us again. I’ll tell you this then come to a close as I am drifting back to days that were magic. Frau Feurkel told us to wait for a moment and went off somewhere. When she returned, she held out a bag of “goose buries” for me to take. I immediately tasted them and went back to somewhere in the late 40’s, and the time that we reunited was in the mid 70’s, on a vacation to a place and a people who knew very well about my America.
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