Obama's new "Shock" for America

Waking up this morning I find myself more bewildered than ever as I turn on FOX News, as I always have done, as part of my daily ritual that hasten changed since I first watched it so very many years ago. The morning show “Fox and Friends” were discussing the breaking news and I heard something about the President would be coming on TV (big surprise) to report to us that information relative to the “Underpants Bomber” will bring to America a “Serious Shock”! You mean the fact that with dozens of red flags, now one that includes it was known that the threat was on the plane and the pilots were not notified, is not enough of a serious shock? You mean there is more, something more serious, what could it possibly be? We will all know what that “Serious Shock” to Americans will be, before I complete this column as it takes me a great deal of time just to write a few lines.

My wife is sleeping soundly as her routine is staying up all night working so that she can sleep in, something I recall her doing when I was dating her back in the 60’s, when I was courting her in Harrogate England. As I sit in my recliner, watching FOX News, waiting for this disturbing news to be released on the investigation results (redacted of course, and should be), I look towards the first floor master bedroom, thinking about the wonderful woman asleep, unaware of news yet to be released, but we are told that it will “Shock” us. Why all the drama, what can possibly be told to us that we don’t really already know? What new details will make what happened more significant than what we already know? While I wait, I am also happy knowing that my beautiful wife is sleeping through this build up to what will probably not add anything more to the serious nature of this event of pure evil intent.

Forty five years married to a wife, mother, and grandmother, who, more than any other person I know, is filled with love for so many, and touches so many hearts, so I let her sleep. She is unaware and in the bliss of not knowing, not hearing how screwed up our government is, how inept they are in protecting us, and keep us safe, when so much information was made available to so many of the agencies of our government. Somehow I feel that once again this President is going to use this act of negligence to improve his own self indulgence and show how tough he is by finding someone to toss under the buss. He will then demonstrate how strong he is by, with his nose in the air, which is his usual stance when addressing us “We The People”, promising to get to the bottom of this, and take whatever actions are needed to ensure this “never” happens again. How many times have we heard that phrase, from far too many of our elected officials? But to hear them from this President is obscene, he has never kept a promise, so why should we have any reason to trust that he will keep this one. His only interest holding his attention right now is to make sure that there is a Bill on his desk to sign, the “Health Care Bill” and it makes no difference to him whether it is a good or bad Bill, as long as he can include his signing this mess before he gives the “State of the Union” address on the 22^nd of this month. What amazes me is that he will actually be proud that “his” agenda of having this Bill signed, proud to have thumbed his nose, along with Congress and Senate, at “We The People” who do not want any part of this travesty. So sleep my wonderful wife and mother of our sons. Sleep through this while I take it in and pray that the Shock is nothing more than what I predict it will be. As he blames Bush, and his policies that led to this mess left for him “The One” to clean up, and toss a few well intended lower echelon expendables aside, destroying their careers, families, and their personal patriotic efforts. The people who should be eliminated from any position that requires real leadership will be hailed as heroes who will help him do what should have been done when he took office. Don’t ya think that any scrutiny of the policies handed to him should have been reviewed and changed and/or improved when he took office, not after several major screw ups take place? But then who would he blame when things went wrong?

Three hours have gone by since it was announced that the President would release the redacted documents that are alleged to be the results of their investigation on this matter. Funny, I seem to recall months, maybe years investigating what went wrong when events happened on “President Bush’s” watch” Not this President, he has all the answers in just a few days. Right now I am thinking I wish I was in bed with my wife, sleeping through what is going to be a joke. The President will release some details telling us what we have heard from FOX News from just hours after the “Terrorist Attack” took place. Maybe if I was asleep, I would find this whole thing was just a bad dream and when I woke up someone, anyone else was President, the economy was stable and thriving. But no, I am awake, unfortunately I am really awake and things are what they are.

Whatever the shocking news is, when it is all said and done, the fact remains that this President is and should be held accountable for his failure to understand the nature of an enemy that has plagued us for years. His contempt for our Intelligence community gives little incentive for excellence. His disdain for the military, and lack of respect for their commitment to uphold their oath, regardless whether the President does or not. America is learning what many of us already knew and that is we have a President with zero experience in governing and zero experience in leadership. He proclaimed “Present” most of his short Senate stint, and his experience as an organizer while holding the title of “Community Organizer” only showed his loyal following how to hold contempt for those of authority and our then government. Now that he is “The Government” the one thing that remains the same, President Obama continues to run from taking responsibility.

As I continue to sit here while my wife sleeps in bliss, little by little information is being leaked to the press, information that only reinforces what I alluded to above. We are learning that someone in one or more of the intelligence agencies were aware the young “terrorist” was aboard that flight and were intending to question him when he got off the plane when he got off. OFF? What about before he gets on? What is wrong with this picture? I am now anxious to see and hear how they present this, if what is being reported is true. Shock is not the word that comes to my mind. More like it would be; this is more like how I expect an Obama Presidency to respond to this!” Well, if the reports are accurate and the time is correct, we will all know in about twenty minutes. Sleep in peace my sweet wife, dream of days gone by. Don’t wake up until I know just how shocking this will be to the American People. If it is really as bad as they say, I’ll just go back to bed and join my wife in dreamland where we can just live a short time in “Our America”. I really don’t like the other very much, and like it less and less each day that goes by.

Now we have heard from President Obama and I guess the great shock leaked out was that he was going to take some responsibility by saying “The Buck Stops Here!” I wonder where I heard that before, how original. The one thing I thought stood out and did not hear anyone discussing his remarks indicate that everything he said he was going to have done by the various agencies were being done by President Bush. The interesting thing to me is that when Bush was doing them, the Democrats, including this President, were critical of his doing so, and attempted to block him in every effort. So, what’s changed? Maybe it is that there have been at least two terrorist assaults on Americans since President Obama has been in office, and I mean one on American soil and one in the air over American soil. Why there is no call for an investigation like there was on Bush every time he sneezed baffles me, or should I just say, “Oh Well, that was then and this is now”? Or should I just concede that one took place in my America, and one took place in the other? I think I’ll just go back to my warm bed and try to dream of days gone by, and my America.

First Born, (During Seven Day War)

June 22nd, 1967, my first son was born. He was conceived in the suburbs of Athens Greece, and then nurtured by his mother, my wife, Val for nearly nine months. As the day that Milton III would enter the world approached, something was taking place that would change the world; it was called the “Seven Day War” between Israel and Egypt, and then supported by several Arab countries intent on eliminating this small Jewish State from the map. Due to the war medical facilities in Greece were limited as Americans stationed in Libya were being evacuated to Athens causing limited availability for hospitalization for those like Val, who was about to give birth.

I was stationed at Elefsis, Greece, where I worked, along with a small number of American soldiers, at the Greek Air Force Facility there. The nature of my assignment was and I imagine, still classified, but there were no medical facilities either there, or at the American Air Force Base, South of Athens, that could or would facilitate dependants who required medical treatment or giving birth. So, I had to arrange for Val to catch a hop on a Med-Evac aircraft from the American Air Force Base in Greece, to an American Air Force Base, located in Turkey, where she then would be provided transportation to an American Army Hospital, located in Ankara, Turkey, where my son would eventually be born and take his first breath. I was stuck in Greece, wondering what was happening to my young wife, now in another foreign land, while I was going crazy with anticipation.

I had recently been selected as SASCOM’s soldier of the quarter, and had a three day pass unused, which I thought I would try and take advantage of, then figure out a way to get over to Ankara, to be with my wife when my son entered the world. I did have a small problem, it was called money. My Commanding Officer, Major Pascarillo, came to my rescue and not only gave me the three day pass, but extended it to an administrative leave, and arranged for me to catch a Med-Evac flight over to Turkey, then transportation to the hospital in Ankara. Wow, I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I was and it did not take long for me to grab my tooth brush, my set of “Orders” allowing me the trip, at Government expense, and make it to the Air Force Base, to catch my flight. This was on, if my failing memory is correct, around the 19th of June, 1967, three days before the big day would come. When I arrived, I went straight to the Ankara Army hospital, where I found that Val was not there, but a block away, at very nice apartment complex, where pregnant dependents were kept while waiting for the moment that labor would start.

I was not allowed to stay at the apartment complex as it was for those waiting for labor to start only, no males allowed, except for specific visiting hours. I went to the hospital to find if there was a place I could camp out at as I only had about ten dollars on me, and I did not want to spend any of it not knowing what expense would be required. The medical staff was very kind and understanding, and one of the medics escorted me to the top floor (I think it was the 9th floor) where beds were prepared for expecting husbands and fathers of the lucky ladies who were accommodated at what was nearly a luxury apartment complex, where they were provided meals and staff to care for their needs, and when the time came, get them to the hospital. It felt strange for me to be in the hospital, when Val was the one about to have the baby. Such is life, but I would not complain, I had a bed, and was allowed to eat at the hospital cafeteria. I did have a limited time to be there so I was praying for a timely birth.

The doctor advised Val and I to take long walks each day until she started labor, as the walking and exercise might ensure a delivery within the four day period we had for a window of opportunity for me to witness my son’s birth. So, there we were, Val and I walking the roads of Ankara Turkey, with military vehicles, both armored and trucks, and troops at every street corner. With the war going on in the Middle East, Turkey was on high alert and state of readiness. Val and I were unsure about what might happen but we did know that we had a child coming and would enter the world during a period of time that would be historical. I doubt that Val ever looked more beautiful than she did when she was pregnant with Milt III. She was young, beautiful and with child. What more could a young soldier like me want? I guess, only to be sure that my son was born before time for my stay ran out. Well, after a couple of days, passed, Val thought she would not be able to walk any more, as she thought she might have nearing her labor, and we wanted to be careful.

I spent most of the day and evening on the 21st with Val at the Apartment and somehow we thought it would be soon, and the time would be at hand. I checked in early at the hospital, went to the 9th floor, climbed into my bed and fell into a deep sleep, with a prayer that our child would be born before I had to head back to Athens. My prayer was answered, somewhere early in the morning, a medic was shaking my shoulder and asking me if I was Sgt Gregory, and even before he got the words out, I was dressed and he took me to the delivery room where Val was waiting. Milt III was delivered while I was in the room, taking photographs (Polaroid Land Camera) and there he was, Milton F Gregory III, coming in at seven plus pounds. I was so excited I shook harder than I ever imagined a grown man could. There we were, a proud father, and a worn out, still beautiful, but very proud mother, holding our first, very be beautiful son. The timing was perfect, but close, so close that we had only a day at the hospital and we had to make the trip back, but not before paying seven dollars and fifty cents, leaving me with two dollars and fifty cents and about forty five drachma, the Greek currency, but amounted to a couple of bucks if I recall right. The trip to the Air Force Base in Turkey was a long one and Val was a bit weak from giving birth, and we had a young baby with a huge appetite. We were soon on the Med Evac air craft, on our way back to Athens, wondering how we would get home from the Air Force Base once landed.

We got off the Med Evac air craft and found our way to the main street, where we got a cab, and gave him all the money we had, both U.S., and Greek, telling him to take us towards our house until the money ran out. That turned out to be about two and a half miles, so we walked, Val, our new son, and I, with on small bag that Val took with her to Turkey, and walked making it home just in time to our collapsing on the bed, tired, dirty from dusty roads, but very happy parents of a child who would grow up to make us as proud as any parents could be. Milt III would serve fifteen plus years in the same Army Intelligence field that I and two of my brothers did, then go on to serve in Saudi, Kuwait, and Bahrain, as a civilian contactor, in a job that we can only think about, never discuss. It was not easy, and although it only cost seven dollars and fifty cents at the hospital, he was worth every penny to us, and a whole lot more. This has been the story of our first son, Milton III, who come to us one and a half months before I would deploy to Vietnam from Athens after volunteering five time, being turned down, but with my son came my wish to serve my country with my fellow soldiers in combat.

If you wonder how this relates to “Gregory’s Two Americas” it is the America that I love, that provided a military who cared enough about me to ensure I got to be with my wife when my first son was born, during a period that would be historical and they really could have used me at the Unit, but chose to allow me to be with my wife, Val, in our historical time when a child would be born, that would give back in so many ways. Milt III is a child of my America, God bless everyone on this Christmas Eve as I document what was one of the most important few days of my life. I thank God every day for blessing us with this child, who is home from Bahrain to share Christmas and New Years with his family before returning to continue his service at whatever he is doing, Val and I know he is doing it for “Both of Gregory’s Two Americas".

From My "Gregory's Two Americas" (NWW)

Christmas has always been a major part of Val’s and my life, as demonstrated in my column # 25. As you know from previous columns, from Harrogate England, we had the wonderful experience and opportunity to spend a couple of years in Greece, even through the overthrow of King Constantine, life again was an adventure, already told! Vietnam followed, then a short stay at Ft. Gordon, in Augusta, Georgia, soon followed by our tour in Asmara Ethiopia. One adventure after another, life was always exciting for Val and I, soon joined by our first son, Born in Turkey, June of 1967, and another son born in Asmara Ethiopia, December of 1970.

Wayne would be our last child, but the two sons we were blessed with would both be examples that were straight out of “My America”, which was the one that I praise and brag about as the other America was filled with a darkness that would only bring stress and concern about the future of the only America that I loved, thought about, and spent my time in the military intelligent field defending. To watch the changes taking place brings tears to my eyes each time I think about how good it was, and really still is, only harder to examine now a days.Yesterday I was watching the Glenn Beck show on FOX News and heard something that sent chills up my spine. Now I know that Glenn Beck is an opinion orientated show, but his comments on what I am about to say were supported by what he (Glenn Beck) called “Three very reliable sources” and appeared to be truly deeply concerned about it himself. He was convincing and believable.

What he indicated, and I will paraphrase, was that the President of the United States has attempted and may have succeeded in using intimidation, of a magnitude never even imagined in the past, to cause a member of congress to vote for the current far left extremist Health Care Bill, or our President and Commander in Chief will close down a SAC “Strategic Air Command” Air Force Base. Now if this true, and the indication is that it is true, although denied by that member of Congress who the alleged intimation was used against. My father was on the SAC IG Team, (Inspector General Team that inspected the SAC bases which based the aircraft, with their crews, were on 24 hour alert, ready to be in the air in a very short (classified information relative to this so I will be intentionally vague about this subject) period of time.) The inspections were, I can’t answer for the current requirements as my father passed away two years ago at the age of 89, unannounced and was a career ender for any SAC base Commander who failed the inspection, which further could cause immediate relief of his command. I remember that when my brothers and sisters were mostly in our teens, but actually any age, but since there were six of us, only some of us were in our teens at any one time, were not allowed to call any of our friends who might be on any SAC base to ensure that the unannounced inspection was not compromised.

I also recall that my father actually failed a commander that he once worked for in past years, and were close friends with that commander. Oh, my father was a very proud and professional, dedicated, patriot, who never allowed his personal opinion or feelings interfere with job on the IG team, and my dad was a true professional I can assure you.The source came from three reliable sources, one being a “Senate Staff Aid” and the others were just indicated as “very reliable”. The Senator who is alleged to have been intimidated is Nebraska’s “Ben Nelson” who has denied the allegation, reported by the Weekly Standard’s Michael Goldfarb. The Base and basic info follows:SAC Bases: Offutt Air Force BaseLocation: Omaha, NebraskaHome of: SAC Headquarters, 55th Strategic Recon Wing, 385th Bomb WingStatus: Headquarters of U.S. Strategic CommandLinks: Offutt AFB, U.S. Strategic Command Command CenterGo to: http://www.strategic-air-command.com/bases/Offutt_AFB.htm for more information about Offutt Air Force Base.Go to: http://mediamatters.org/blog/200912160014 for more information on this incredible story now breaking.If there is the slightest truth to this incident, not only is “My America” in danger, but “Gregory’s Two Americas” are both in serious jeopardy and every American should be more outraged than I could ever indicate on paper.

The seriousness of this issue is of such a magnitude that if found to be true I cannot think of anything more dangerous to this nation’s National Security and should be an absolute cause for a call for impeachment, if not sufficient cause for criminal charges and “Treason” would not be out of question as to the charge to be made. I am at a loss as to what is happening to our country, have we lost all our values that “Power, and hunger for money” trump this nation’s National Security, along with its prestige as “The” country to emulate by most of the free world. This is a story that should be investigated by every News Media, along with all Federal Agencies involved with the protection of this country.With Christmas just around the corner, it breaks my heart to write my column, reporting such powerful negative news on the world stage. I admit, I am a long lived conservative and this news is of such concern to me I felt it would be negligent on anyone’s part, to include mine, not to report and verify the substance of any information to give credence or discredit this breaking story of corruption at the highest level.

No matter what your political views are, we must never put our personal views or agendas in front of any information that would be fatal to the security interests of this nation. As I consider the ramifications of what is being reported, I can only think of how much has taken place in such a short time, over the past eleven months, and the impact of these matters on America’s standing in the world as a Nation once thought of as the peace keepers of the world. Where did we go wrong, what has happened that so much has changed relative to our moral and ethical direction? Have we all given up and capitulated to the evil of those who only consider power and money as their “God”, caring little what happens to the citizens of our country, and the integrity of the greatest document ever conceived by man. It’s called “The Constitution of the United States of America”.As my heart grows heavier with each word I write in this column, I must bring it to a close. As I end today’s column, I pray that what I highlighted, the intimidation of any elected official, by anyone, but especially the White House Administration, which would include the President of the United States, proves to be just a story without merit.

Please join me in this prayer, regardless of which party or political leanings, that this incredible allegation be proven, unquestionably proven to be without merit or substance. What the alternative is far exceeds the allegations to have value or truth, no matter how slight. When I started my column “Gregory’s Two Americas” I never dreamed that one day, in only twenty six writings, my heart would be cracked with a subject bringing a fear for not only the economic security of this great country, but the actual basis for fear of witnessing the end of “My America”, and also the “Other America”, the one I am not filled with joy thinking about. The importance of this story outweighs anything going on at the Capital, only days away from what we should be celebrating, the birth of our savior, and the celebration of the Christ Child’s entrance into the world his father created, part of that world is without question, “Gregory’s Two Americas”. Amen.

Gregory's Two Americas (14)

I Open with my son's home office in a far of land I cannot reveal. But he is my son and he continues the fight although his father, (me), must accept I am finished in the world of the Special Intelligence Field, and can only look back and look on. Stay safe my son, stay safe. Today I start by remembering my leaving Vietnam, to return to my wife and son who is now a little over a year old, and I know he will not know me. It will be interesting, I thought as I boarded the plane, another charger, out of Vietnam, that I will be returning home to not only my wife, but my son. My son will now have learned some words, and I tried to imagine how he will receive me, how I will receive him, I thought about Val and will I be the same man she married in Harrogate England already several years behind us. At least as I leave Vietnam, I will be going back home to my America. But, leaving will mean leaving good men that I have learned to love and depend on behind and may never see or hear from again. Going home, going to rejoin my family and start to think about my new assignment, going home means leaving behind fellow soldiers who will continue the good fight, one only most soldiers understand or agree with. Looking into the eyes of those South Vietnamese people, who begged America to defend them against a Communist North Vietnam, let you know the cost of pulling out will be the end of a free South Vietnam. And that is exactly what happened!

The plane ride home would allow me time to reflect on the year I just spent, along with so many fellows American soldiers, defending a doomed nation. I did not know then, nor would I for a few years ahead, that the eyes of the South Vietnamese citizens foretold of a pending defeat and their freedom would be lost forever to the brutal dictatorship of the North. It is sad to say, but I soon forgot about the strife of those wonderful people, the Vietnamese, and even our brave young soldiers as my thinking turned to my wife and son, waiting for me to return home. Although my mind left behind my fellow soldiers on my return trip home, it would only be temporary and my heart would fill with the pain of their continued fruitless effort, at a very high cost of life and many more wounded for a nation our government would abandon. But, for a short while I would settle down and let my mind wander as my thoughts turned home to think about Val and Milt III. This is where my mind would remain for the rest of the trip. It was easier to think about my family and what was waiting for me when I got home than to continue to dwell on the horrors of war. The trip would leave me conflicted for the rest of my life, never again would I feel good about turning my thoughts from my fellow soldiers left behind as I was returning home with all of my limbs, with some shrapnel that would take years to eventually work its way out of my body, and other wounds received, but they all would eventually heal, my mind never would.

The plane I was on landed first in Ankara Alaska, where I could not miss an opportunity to call Val and let her know I was almost home, and I hoped that my nervous excitement did not show too much, after all , I was a soldier, and I wanted my inner strength to be dominant. That gave in to her voice, which clearly was filled with nervous excitement, and we just did what all lovers do, and my thoughts really did turn to her with my imagination going wild as what it would be like to be with her again, in every way. Then, I was on the plane again, and I knew that I would soon be landing at Travis where a beautiful young wife, and a son I had not seen in over a year, would be waiting for me, along with my mom and dad. Oh, to be young again, and filled with all those wonderful feelings young lovers have. The nice thing about our love is that no matter how old we are the beauty of our youth remains. This is and will continue to be my America, the American family, sharing the spotlight with serving as an American Soldier. Even after I retired, I would always reminisce about the twenty plus years I served in the United States Army Security Agency (USASA), which was later renamed to the "Intelligence and Security Command" (INSCOM). I would always be a soldier, and would never be able to detach myself from those now serving to protect this great nation. My America will always include all military forces; it would not be my America with them.

As I stepped off the plane, felt my right foot first touch the soil of my country, the feeling I had would only be exceeded by the feeling of my wife’s body pressed against mine, as she held my son, who stared at a stranger. It would take awhile for Milt III to understand that this stranger hugging his mother, and kissing her is his father, but at that moment, my mind was on just holding my family, which were my wife and son. My mom and dad, being a military family, understood and remained in the back ground until it was time for us to disconnect and walk over to them, where I let them know they were an important part of my life as I hugged them and told them how much I loved them. Another part of my America, family, being a part of a family that shared a mutual respect for what made up the core of who I was, and continue to be. I’ll not reveal the secrets of two lovers who had been a part so long and rejoined after a very long year of separation. It must have been difficult for all of them, not knowing if their son, husband, brother, would return from a war only those who were there would ever understand it. However, being home was all that mattered at that moment in my life.

My next assignment would be Fort Gordon, Augusta Georgia, where I would teach young soldiers, night field training, in a communications field. This was a temporary stop while I waited for Val to get her citizenship and then and only then, would I receive my special clearance needed for my next intelligence assignment that would take me to Ethiopia, in East Africa. Val would once again be joining me on a venture to a foreign country that was in turmoil and soon would be where my second son, now joined with his Grandma and Grandpa in heaven, would be born. That would be a night never forgotten and part of another insight to my America. As for now, I reflect on what is happening in congress, this night as I write this column, a vote for a health bill that will destroy my America’s economy, and I wonder how any Americans would allow this to happen, how our elected officials would, no, are, casting their votes (on a Liberal House) to pass this bill. How can they vote to leave our children with a debt that they will never be able to repay? My America is about to be disrupted by power hungry congressional liberals, and may be the first step to thrust our nation into 3rd world status, and I pray that somehow if fails take place, not today, not ever.

I hope that you are able to see through my life experience, the America that remains to be my focus. So many wonderful people are continuing the good fight to prevent our elected politicians from taking our country to a place none of us want to be. When I saw so many “Tea Partiers” go back to Washington, from as far away as Hawaii, to let our politicians know that “We the People” do not now, nor ever want “Government Healthcare”! But, they (the Liberal Politicians) ignored those thousands of incredible American’s who came to let America hear their voice, more important, let Washington DC hear their voice, as it is there that our fate will be determined. So far, most Americans have been fortunate enough to have enjoyed the fruits of an America that has grown more than any other country in the world, until greed and power hungry forces, both in the economic world and the political world destroyed our financial institutions. Now, a fight for our America’s future is going on, and it is the greedy, for “We the People”! I am on the side, of “We the People”, and will continue to be on that side as that is where my America exists. I believe in Americans and I believe that “We the People” will be heard, we will not be tossed aside by the radical liberals who disregard, what “We the People” want, and just continue to spend our hard earned money, “taken” from us in the form in taxes, while marching on with an agenda that none of us want.

I cannot believe what I hear on the floor of our congress, the falsehoods told by liberals who know the truth, but continue to indulge their attempt to steal the America I know and love from us, and the futile fight by the conservatives to hang on. What has happened to us that we all are not rising up to yell out from the top of every mountain how we feel about what is going in what should be a place we trust to pass bills that protect the nation, not destroy it. I know that there are more than just the “Tea Party groups” that love this country enough to give so much of their time, money and selves, to let congress know that we do not want Government Healthcare, we want our Republic back! Little by little they are chipping away at our freedoms and constitutional rights, in order to steal away or America by stealth measures, and most Americans will never know what has happened until it is too late. Soon the vote will be in, the Minority Leader of the House; Republican John Boehner is making his closing statement. We will all know in just moments, as the House will soon cast their votes. They have enough Liberals to win this round, but our fight must not end here, regardless what happens tonight.

And with the passing by the House of HR 3962, the Democratic, very Liberal, Government Health Care Bill, I can only wonder what lay ahead for our great country. It passed at exactly 11:14 PM (2314 hours). It passed with one “Republican” siding with the Democrat Liberals to make it 220 – 2015, with 38 Liberals voting against this arbitration of something vile and evil. Our democracy is in danger, our constitution at risk, and so many fail to grasp the very real threat to the stability of our future economic health. My America is trying, we just cannot let up, there is far too much at stake! I go to sleep tonight with a heart filled with hope, but despair has a strangle hold on my conscious thoughts about this day in history. It is a day to put on your calendar, to recall in the future the day our country died, or at least fell asleep. I am unable to continue my thoughts for today, as tears bluer my vision, the pain of watching this vote come to pass, I close by saying, and praying, that this is not the end, but only the beginning of the revolution, the revolution that returns America, my America back to her senses. As “Saturday Night Live” comes alive, I collapse into what will be in short order, a deep comma! While in my comma, I will think only of My America, and all those who support her. I leave you as I return to beckon my memories of the 1st Air Mobil Calvary Division and my devotion to my band of brothers. I loved them then, and I love them now.

Gregory's Two Americas

This article is from my column posted in the (No We Wont-NWW site) It is my 12 posting and deals with how Viet Nam relates to my "Two Americas".

My arrival at the airfield located in the southern portion of South Vietnam (Cam Ranh Bay) was one of mixed emotions. My first thought was one of euphoria, an excitement that only a young, highly motivated Buck Sergeant (Sgt E-5) would have as I was about to follow the long line of Gregory’s who have proceeded me in defending our country and it’s Allies. My euphoria and excitement was short lived as I observed the sight of those black “Body Bags” being placed in refrigeration unites and loaded onto aircraft on their journey home. As the group I was in just got of the charter Boeing 707, we simultaneously stopped, came to attention and gave those brave soldiers a salute, and I shed the first of what would be many. Most of us would shed tears shed for someone we would come to know, then hear their last breath, and watch the life disappear from their eyes as they passed from this world into one that he or she believed in. The haunting desire for me to join my comrades in arms in a fight that most would never understand, many would never believe in, and all would learn to hate for taking so many of our best, would change to one of concentrating on fighting and learning to respect my enemy.

Yes, I said respect my enemy! After all, those young men and women from North Vietnam were more like those I have met all over the world, needing and wanting the same things as we, in America, do. Their love of their country must have been every bit as deep as mine; they fought just as hard, just as deep, and with just as much conviction as any of us. They were so young and so afraid, and so much like us, they wanted to return home to those they had left to join in a fight that no one understood, and no one wanted, with the exception of a our governments, who felt that each were on the right side of the war. I could understand their side, wanting to reunite their country (North and South); after all, did we not fight a similar war. The difference was one was to free a race of people from slavery, so we have been taught, while the other was to enslave those who would fall under the rule of communist North Vietnam! War has always been a mystery to me, and probably most people who are not engaged in deciding either to start a war, or end one. I will not question my government for any war I have witnessed in my life time, I will only believe in how I feel about the war I requested, volunteered to be a part of, as that is how I was brought up. I do not apologize for my desire to be a part of a war that I believed was to stop the spread of communism. It is something I was raised and taught to see as a threat to the very freedoms I have enjoyed all my life, with the exception of my year in Vietnam, a war to this day I believe was fought by those who’s boots were on the ground, for the right reasons. (Most soldiers I fought alongside of felt as I did, and still do, none of us will ever understand how any American would give support to our enemy, an enemy who killed and tortured our fellow soldiers, but many did just that) My America supported those who served their country in combat, the other America, well; they aided and abetted our nation’s enemy!

I could tell you many stories of war, how many times my life was saved, how many times someone else died in my place, but I’ll just relate one, as it best describes my America, and how it behaves. It was Feb, 3rd, 1968, and TET had just exploded across the nation of South Vietnam. I was at Camp Evans, and we had just received orders to prepare to head North (we were going to Hanoi and end this crazy war) but then something happened. In any case I heard they needed someone to go to a place called PK-17, and ARVN compound, and as usual, I jumped at the chance to do what I could to help my unit. At the time I had no Idea that TET had kicked off.

Bottom line I was taken to PK-17, just outside of Hue, by helicopter and set up radio communications to the Brigade (remember, I was with the 3rd Brigade, 1st Airmobile Cavalry Division, at the time) and ran through an intense hail of gun fire, mortar fire, and whatever else that the retreating North Vietnam Army could toss at this small compound, to guide the convoy in and direct them to the bunker I chose for the command post. It was during this time that a young black soldier grabbed me, and yelled not to go out as mortars were hitting all around. This soldier took the full blast of a mortar that hit just outside the entryway, protecting me from being seriously injured. I believe that I would have been killed had it not been for this brave fellow soldier who wrapped his arms around me and was mortally wounded. His blood mixed with my own, and I knew that this bleeding soldier was from My America! I will not go into the details that followed as I try to erase most of those days from my mind. I’ll never forget those who I served with, maybe never recall many of their names, but will always remember all of their faces. While this young black soldier was saving my life, other Americans, definitely not from my America, was sending blood, food, and sweaters (to keep our enemy warm) to the North Vietnam soldiers. I know, I saw the addresses on boxes, labels addressed from Berkley California and other Liberal colleges, who did not want us to hurt the soldiers who were killing us, and yes torturing us, and that I will never release from my memory banks, to recall those events would destroy what little sanity I have left.

We would fly over 800 helicopters to Kason, and go into the A Shau Valley, and so on. But what I think are my best memories during my year there in Vietnam, is my R&R trip to Hawaii, where I spent 4 nights and 5 days with my beautiful wife, and you can be sure that I will never reveal my nights or days there with Val. I will say only that on the 5th day, I never saw so many men, along with their wives and girlfriends, shed so many tears, to include Val and I, as I did that day. When I first headed to Vietnam it was with the excitement of joining my fellow soldiers in battle, this time, there was no excitement, only the new understanding of the reality of war, and the nature of killing or be killed, along with the thought of how many more will I see die before I went home, if I did. I will have to leave Vietnam now as my memories are becoming more and more alive and what those memories are bringing to me I do not want to relive. I’ll just say, Vietnam is just one more place I learned that there are two Americas, the one I love, and the one that I’ll never understand, and I don’t think I even want too. It took many years for all the shrapnel to finally work its way out of my body, in tiny chunks of metal that formed a pimple, and then worked its way out. My wife was my doctor at home, assisting to remove the fragments with a pair of tweezers, never asking, never wanting me to reach back into my brain and relive the year that I finally grew up and became a man. It was that year that I learned more about myself than at any other time to date. I also learned a lot more than I want to admit, about the other America, one I really did not know nor understand at the time, but became all too clear as time and knowledge enlightened me.

I recall all the movies made about communism in the United States over the years. “Reds” is the one that I recall the most and raised my first questions about how could any American even think about being a communist, and gave me even more reason to follow my father’s footsteps and enlist into the Army, choosing Intelligence as my field to spend over 20 years in. The more I learned about communism and Marxism and extremist views, the more confused I became as to how any man or woman would chose to believe in those ideologies. The farther away the Vietnam war drifted into my memory, the more confident that America would never turn to those extreme views, I was so wrong, but it did prove to me that there really are two Americas. I am so glad that I am a part of mine. Mfgjr

Gregory's Two America (4)

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.

The Importance Of Moms!

The Importance of moms! Growing up there are a lot of things I recall about my mother, some good, some not so good, but all educational wile filled with love. I remember for some reason more about my early years, age nine to be precise, then just about any other time of my life. As I grow older, and my mind is not as sharp, if it ever was, as it used to be, the story of this old veteran, that is embedded in my mind revolves around the life of a nine year old boy who lived in Fort Worth Texas. Oh, those were years that will never leave my mind for some reason, probably will get there when they close the coffin lid on me as my life comes to a close.

What struck me most during those young years was how much my mother influenced my life, more than any other age I am certain. As a catholic, I was schooled at St. Alice Catholic School. I know it is an old cliche but I really did walk to school, and it really was about three miles from where we lived. We only had one car, and my dad drove that to work, he was then a young Air Force Captain who was gone more than he was there, so guess who did most of the child care those days. At that time, there was only my older sister, Judy, and my younger brother Michael, and myself, a bit of a loaner, even with Judy and Mike to try and destroy any sense of self that I would love to have had. Too overcome my being entrapped playing only with my family, I developed my first real friendship that I would have, Dan Capers, another nine year old who only wanted adventure.

Well There are far to many stories I could tell about Dan and I, but this is not really a story about us, it is about my mother, and mothers like her during the 50's. While Dan and I thought the world revolved around us, it did not take long to learn that actually it was our mothers who made our world what it would become, and no one else. Caring for three fairly wild, but decent children was not an easy thing for a mother who's husband spent most of his career, all 33 years plus, being the good officer who's mistress was the Air Force, his whole life was the military as he started out early in life in the Army.

My Dad ran away from home at 16 and lied about his age and enlisted into the Army, becoming one of the youngest First Sergeants in Army at the time. His motto was "If the army wanted you to have a wife, they would have issued you one". Well, then he met Mom, Ruth Della Beggs, who at an equally young age when they met, (she would never tell any of us how old she was when she married my father, but from pictures we saw, she was in there late teens).

Again, I am off subject, It's OK, I'm getting old and on a lot of medications, so I have an excuse. The point I really am trying desperately trying to get to is how my mother sacrificed her early years having babies, and raising them. She never complained about not having a life outside raising us young "military brats" as we were more known as by the general public, yet somehow, I feel that we were the lucky ones, as being in a military family, the one thing we kids learned very fast, was discipline.

You would think that it would be our dad that was the disciplinarian, but it was not, it was "Mom"! Yep, when it came to ensuring that we grew up saying yes sir and no sir, and yes mam and no mam, it was our mom who dictated the rules of life, and the backbone of our family. Oh, Dad was not someone you wanted to have angry at you, but when he was home, he wanted to spend all his time giving us good memories, like camping and hiking, just being with us was enough for him. As structured as he was once he put on that uniform and marched proudly out to the 1955 Plymouth station wagon as he went off to Carswell Air Force Base to be the good soldier that he was, and remained to be all 33 plus years of service. His whole endeavor at home was to prepare his sons and if he could his daughters, yes, we would later have another sister named Gina, for military service.

At it was, only the four sons would enlist, three of us in the Army Security Agency (a branch of Intelligence) and one would stray and join the Navy. Only the U.S. Marines would not be represented by one of the Gregory family, who knows, if we had just one more brother, he would probably have been a Marine, who knows.

Again, I digress! I am trying desperately to tell you about the strengths of a marries single mother, who without complaint, that I can recall, did her "duty" as a mother, and give us more than she will ever know, especially since she is now sharing a burial spot at Arlington National Cemetery. My Mom passed away in 1995, and my Father passed away in 2007, My younger brother Mike (all three of my brothers were younger than I, which is important as I go on) passed away, not long after 9/11, to be exact, 4:25 PM, Arizona time, October 25th, 2001. He was still involved with the intelligence community, actively as a civilian, contracted to them in the equipment test field, and that is about all I will say about that.

If you want to learn about this wonderful human being, Google him by typing in his name "LTC Michael James Gregory," read what is said about him, at the Arlington National Cemetery site. It was I, although our whole family was present, that had to make the decision to take him off life support, a task only made a little more digestible by the fact we had discussed this on more than one occasion (My brother and I), and we both agreed, should the time come, "Pull the Plug"! (Obama would just love us for that!) It now only angers me more as the realness of that task became even more real for me when the doctor came in and said, "Mr Gregory, you really should make a decision, there is no brain activity and five days have passed now. My who family turned to me and all said, you make it, we can't do it. Well, it was only the strength that my mother gave me during her life that gave me that ability to do what I thought would be the most difficult thing I would ever have to do. How wrong I would be, I found that out when my son, Wayne Michael Gregory, a School teacher who was gifted in so many ways, blessed by God, and loved by all who knew him. Again, it was my mother's strength, even though she had long been buried at Arlington National Cemetery, that would allow me to give courage to be with his wife, Stacey, while he passed. I never wanted my children, or their spouses, see me shed tears, or cry like a baby, as together we held hands over his heart as he left this world and passed into one where God would provide him the peace, as a gifted child growing up, would never really know, as he was always in conflict with his own emotions trying to determine where he fit in, in this world. Before he passed, I sent his mother (my wonderful and loving wife) and his older brother, who returned from Iraq or somewhere over there, to be with him, home, as I knew what was coming and what I did not want them to have as their last memories of this very special and wonderful Christian and human being. I was glad I did as it is something that continues to haunt me every day. It was my mother's strength, even in her death that gave me strength to be with my son at his passing. It was the strength of my wife, my loving, caring and beautiful wife, who finished the job of giving me courage to do what I dreaded and feared more than I will ever let on with my wife, as she is still alive and is my strength in just about everything I do now.

Mom's, how do they do it? How do they give birth, in turn giving life (only though the grace of God) to a small living, breathing, beautiful child, a child that will grow into whoever my wife, and with little help from me, would grow into the special person he did. Like my father, I had a mistress, the Untied States Army Security Agency, would spend more time doing my job, than giving my wonderful wife the time and/or attention, that she needed. She followed me all over the world. I met and married her in England, she was only 17 years old, and I was only 21. Because of my security clearance I could not stay in England and Val and I went to my next assignment, Ellefisis Greece, not far from Athens, so naturally we thought it was going to be the assignment of a life time. Before I even got started I was volunteering to go to Viet Nam, to be with my fellow soldiers, who I felt could help in some way, with my skills of the Intelligence background. How wrong I would be when I eventually went to my father, who by now was working with the Air Force IG team out of Washington DC. Well, that feeling of what a wonderful assignment soon ended with the overthrow of HM King Constantine, I was held at Ellefisis, as I watched the Greek Army chase the Greek Air Force back and forth over the mountain where we were protecting very sensitive "things". Only after my five requests to be assigned to a combat unit in Viet Nam, with a little help from my father, I finally got my long awaited assignment to Viet Nam. I never thought about what my young wife, now 19 years old, would have to go through to obtain a visa to enter the Untied States of America, and how she would be treated boy our government officials, as she went through the process, with us only having days to obtain the necessary paperwork to get the visa. The medical examinations, the questioning by the U.S. Embassy consulates who badgered her, and I think now about how our government wants to legalize the Illegal's now in our country, and give them citizenship, just like that, nothing to go through but some politician knowing that they might get their vote by doing this!

I can't even begin to tell you the anger I feel when I know that this young English girl who left her home to follow me, with out ever once questioning me what I wanted her to do, just did what she felt a good wife should do. I never even thought to ask my mom or dad if she could stay at their home, which to all of us siblings considered home as a matter of fact. I just brought her home, left her there with our young son, Milton III, only a month old and poor Val not knowing what she was getting into, just following my request to be there. She lived at our home in Hayward California, and while I was in Viet Nam, moved with our family to Fremont California. My mom asked Val to go to citizenship school at Hayward Junior college to prepare for her citizenship once I returned. Well, after returning, we moved to Augusta Georgia and she went to the court house where a judge questioned her for over an hour, before granting her citizenship. Well, my poor wife, again following my request to join me in the wilds of East Africa, my next assignment would be Asmara Ethiopia, where she would be chased by the ELF, "Ethiopian Liberation Front", shot at, had spears tossed at her by very wild Ethiopians, who in some villages were not fans of we Americans.

Val accepted the many challenges of living outside an American compound, and lived amongst the native population of Ethiopians, who actually treated us with great respect and as part of their community family. The droughts that they endured were incredible and we, as a family, (My brother Mike, who I was with when he passed later on in life) managed to live off of five gallons of drinking water a week, and 200 gallons of dirty water put in a tank on the roof of our house, once a month, was to provide water to wash, do the dishes and flush the toilet we had. Val, still relatively young, endured what ever I put her in, never complaining, only doing what a mom does best, raise her family, which increased by another son, Wayne, our little genius who entered this world at 10 Lbs.

I think this made us a very international family. My wife of 43 years, born in Harrogate England, Milt III, born in Ankara Turkey (While we were stationed in Greece), he was born during a little thing called the 7 day war in the middle East, and I was born in California, none of us born on the same continent. Amazing, at least it is to me. Do ya think my poor wife might have a real case to have stayed in England and not go through all what she did, not Val, she never complained, never made me feel anything but loved. As a mom, she raised her two boys with values, values that she just knew, she had a natural goodness about her, a goodness that set the bar for my two sons, and even me to try and too equal, never could be reached by any of us then, and the remainder of us to this day. She was and is a mom, as my mom, one who believed in the good in America, something she took very serious, her citizenship. After all, she gave up her's to become an American, and she is more American than many I have observed while I have lived in the Untied States.

I would have to write a book to tell you all that my mom, and my wife, also a mom, have meant to me, my children, and all my mom's grandchildren, and now our grandchildren. Val has now left me, as I did her for years, to spend time with Wayne's widow, Stacey, who had two daughters of her own, and we see as our own. Then came Sarah, who is at this moment, spending the weekend with Val and I. She is five years old and my son, her daddy, Wayne, passed when she was only two years old, and yet she knew, she understood, and the sadness was only able to be consoled by her Grandma, Val, a mom who instinctively knew how to generate the kind of love my little Sarah needed at that time in her life. After all, isn't that what mom's do best, console husbands, children, family, and friends. You have to ask, "How do they do it"? I doubt anyone really knows the answer, accept God in heaven, after all, it is God who mad moms so special.

Now I have shard with you some ramblings and a small glimpse into my mom's and my wife's, also a mom, life and what they sacrificed as moms, to make sure that my Dad and I, were loved, felt loved, and knew that we were loved. That we always came first, and they always were willing to be second, as long as they know that their husbands loved them back, and worked to provide a life for them and our children.

It was mostly women who showed up in Washington, mostly women who organize and attend the town and local tea parties, and tea parties state wide. We husbands have a tendency to allow them to be involved, even encourage them to get out there and let the world hear their voices, and God knows they do have a voice, collectively they have a very loud voice. So, after watching Glenn Beck discuss the "Moms" and encouraging them to have a million mom march on Washington, to demonstrate just how angry they are at what our elected officials are doing and/or not doing to solve problems.

It appears our elected officials are corrupting our sacred halls of Congress. Their power is already being felt, having an affect on votes in Washington. Did you ever in you life think that your voice is having a voice as loud as what you have collectively! I, as a 100% disabled Vet, can only sit here in my bed, or power chair, and watch you go, as they say on the wide screen HD TV's today, "Go Girl!" and I echo that thought, Go Girls, we guys will do what we can, but if you really want to know where the power is girls (or ladies) just look in the mirror and you will see the real and very powerful image of where the power is.

It is you, the moms, the Grand Moms, and all you women who have been silent, nervous, wanting to free yourself to get involved, and do it without allowing your children to suffer from your involvement. Just think of what you have handled up to now, and then you will know, you can, and from what I see, you will, be involved, get involved, and stay involved. And, doing all that without letting your children suffer. That is the great thing about all of you, your ability to do more than anyone expects, and still make time for your children and grandchildren. I do believe that the "Mom Movement" is about to explode, and I applaud you all for your attack on is devouring our country, the corruption that is eating the constitution and destroying the freedoms, that makes America so special. I just know that you mom's are taking charge and getting things don. So, again, Go Girls, Go! Mfgjr