Reflections of a Southern Yankee

of a Southern Yankee

The Things We Do for Love (of Country)

BY DAMIAN DESMOND

My heart was racing. I had heard all the horror stories about this and now it was my turn. Like a group of cattle we were forced through the doors of the small shed-like building. Inside, figures were wearing the same strange alien-like mask as myself and the others with me. The view through the mask’s eyepieces was terrible to begin with, and the darkness of the room, combined with whatever smoky substance filled the air, only added to the confusion. The muffled voices behind the masks began yelling. The doors behind us slammed shut. Through the smoke and darkness we could hear the order to remove our masks. We knew we had to do what we were told. To disobey would only bring worse punishment upon us. Gripping the sides of my mask, I pulled in an upward motion, breaking the seal that the tightened straps had created against my face. Immediately, the smoke entered the void the mask had just protected. The burning sensation on my skin was intense. The muffled voices behind the masks then yelled out orders to say our names and Social Security numbers. The noxious-smelling smoke entered our noses, mouths and lungs as we tried to deliver the information we were ordered to give. The gagging, choking and coughing that ensued were uncontrollable. My body was doing things that were completely involuntary. My eyes began watering. My nose ran like a faucet. Some of the others around me were vomiting. The spasmodic sound of young men coughing and gagging filled the room. Finally, when we thought we would die, the doors behind us were flung open. The bright day burst into the room as the group rushed back outside to fresh air. The scene became one of young men leaning against trees, lying on the ground, or staggering around aimlessly waiting for the effects to wear off. The pungent smell hung in the air and stuck to our uniforms. We could not escape it. It is a smell I’ve never experienced again in the last 30 years, but it remains one I will never forget.

The scene I just described was not a nightmare that I had, nor was it an experience with extraterrestrials. Rather, it was one of the toughest portions of the nearly four months I spent in Fort Benning, Georgia. Part of our training involved being subjected to tear gas. It was sort of like a police officer in training being tased. We had to experience the tear gas, which is relatively mild compared to the nerve agents or other chemicals that could be used against us if we ever found ourselves in a combat situation. It is one of many experiences I will never forget during my six years of service to my country from 1990 to 1996.

Growing up, one of my favorite activities, especially when I was with my cousins in upstate New York, was playing army. I had known that my grandfather, who helped raise me until the age of six, had served in the army during World War II. I didn’t know much more about his service, but the idea that he had stepped up at a time his country needed him was noble to me. My grandparents’ basement was the perfect place to act out what we thought it would be like to be in the army. We would spend hours building forts, giving orders and pretending to be in battle. It was all very innocent.

After my adoption in 1980, I began to learn about my adopted parents and their families. My adopted father had been drafted during the Vietnam War. There, he served as a military police officer in the army. I’ve watched him through the past 40 years, and while he doesn’t agree with the

war he served in (for the record, all war is bad) he still maintains an extreme sense of pride in himself and the others who sacrificed their time, and in many cases, lives for their country. He wears his Vietnam veteran hat and displays his veteran stickers on his pickup truck with great pride. He has started to share more and more of the things he saw while in Vietnam. It is something that I’ve heard is very common as veterans grow older. When he does open up, I sit and listen intently, soaking up every bit of it. He has earned every ounce of my honor and attention.

My adopted grandfather also served in World War II. He saw action and earned a Purple Heart in the Pacific theater. I will never know the absolute horrors of what he saw or did. I do know that in his final years on earth, he also started opening up and sharing some of his experiences, but I know most of it stayed with him when he went to his grave.

Knowing that my biological grandfather, adopted grandfather, and adopted father all served in the US army, I knew the path I wanted to take. The desire to serve my country was strong—not strong enough to make it a career, but it was something I wanted to accomplish, nonetheless.

In my senior year of high school, I joined the Army National Guard and was accepted to Virginia Military Institute. The next six years of my life we were going to be very different-looking from that of most 18-year-olds headed off to party at colleges with fraternities and sororities. I chose the path less traveled—a summer in the humid oven-like atmosphere of southern Georgia, learning the ins and outs of being an infantryman. In August of 1991, I matriculated at VMI, where I was subjected to the rigors of a military college and the grueling “Ratline.” The following summer, I returned to Fort Benning for my specialized training on the M60 mortar. While not nearly as rigorous as basic training or AIT (Advanced Individual Training), it had its own share of challenges.

Over the next five years I graduated from VMI and completed my six years of service to my country. My honorable discharge hangs upon my wall as does my VMI diploma. The challenges and obstacles I overcame in the army and at VMI, as well as the invaluable lessons I learned, have served me well in life. The hardships I’ve faced since my military experiences, while never easy, have been tolerable because of the irons I chose to put in the fire many years ago.

As I sit writing this, my grandfather’s neatly folded American flag, that once draped his casket, now looks down upon me. I cherish that flag and all the flags that have been draped over caskets or have been flown proudly at other times. I don’t look forward to the coming day when my adopted father’s flag will be handed to my mother or to me—the oldest of eight and the only child in my family to have served my country. And someday, my own flag will be handed to my sons. I hope that they appreciate the great sacrifices that so many before them have made to this nation. I hope they look upon my flag as proudly as I look upon my own grandfather’s. Above all, I hope they always carry a burning love inside their hearts for this great country.

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St. Patrick’s Day Treats BY KRISTI JOHNSON MARION & EMILY DODSON Make Ahead Mother’s Day Brunch!

BY KRISTI JOHNSON MARION

The last thing mom wants to do is slave over a hot stove on Mother’s Day. Impress Mom with your planning and cooking skills by treating her to breakfast in bed (without her having to get up so early) with these make-ahead recipes the whole family will love! Making these favorite recipes in advance allows more quality time with mom (or for you to sleep in) and fewer dirty dishes in the sink on her big day!

HASH BROWN CHEESY HAM & EGG CUPS BAKE-AHEAD FRENCH TOAST

INGREDIENTS:

20 oz. bag Hash Browns 1 cup Ham, diced 8 large Eggs 1½ cups Cheddar Cheese, shredded 2 Tbsp. Milk or Half & Half ¼ tsp. Garlic Powder Salt & Pepper to taste OPTIONAL: Feel free to add other ingredients your family loves, such as diced green pepper, mushrooms, chopped spinach, diced green onions, chopped broccoli, etc.

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Grease muffin tin.

2. In a medium bowl, stir all ingredients until blended, saving a little shredded cheese for the tops later. 3. Scoop mixture into muffin-tin cups (Be sure to scoop enough egg in so they won’t dry out.) 4. Sprinkle tops with the extra cheese. 5. Place on middle rack of the oven and bake 30 minutes or until golden brown. Cool 10 minutes. Run a butter knife around each one before removing.

INGREDIENTS:

8 oz. French Bread (day old), Brioche, or Challah 4 large Eggs 2 Tbsp. Sugar 1 Tbsp. Brown Sugar 2 tsp. Vanilla Extract 1 tsp. Maple Extract ¼ tsp. Salt 2 cups Whole Milk ½ cup Heavy Whipping Cream

TOPPING:

¼ cup All-Purpose Flour 3 Tbsp. Brown Sugar 3 Tbsp. Butter, cubed 1 tsp. Cinnamon Raspberries or Blueberries, optional Powdered Sugar

DIRECTIONS:

1. Grease a 13 x 9” baking dish, using butter. 2. Slice bread to 1” thick pieces. 3. In a medium bowl, lightly whisk the next 6 ingredients until well blended. Stir in milk and half & half. Pour the egg mixture over the bread, turning the bread once to coat both sides. Cover and refrigerate overnight. 4. Preheat oven to 375°. 5. For topping, in a small bowl, combine flour, cinnamon and sprinkle onto top of bread. 6. Bake, uncovered, until topping is golden brown, and a knife inserted in center comes out clean; about 40-45 minutes. Let cool 10 minutes before cutting. 7. Top with berries and sprinkle with powdered sugar. Serve as-is or with maple syrup.

APPLE CINNAMON FROZEN BLUE PARTY PUNCH OVERNIGHT OATS

INGREDIENTS:

½ cup Old-Fashioned Oats ½ medium Gala or Honeycrisp Apple, chopped 1 Tbsp. Raisins or Dried Cranberries ¼ cup Pecans, toasted and chopped, optional ¼ tsp. Cinnamon pinch of Salt 1 cup Milk or Almond Milk

DIRECTIONS:

1. In a small jar or container, combine all ingredients. 2. Refrigerate overnight 3. Serve cold or warmed up slightly.

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The View from My Section – A Father’s Perspective

Advice for the Class of 2021

BY A. KEITH TILLEY

As always, at this time of year, I’d like to speak personally to the Class of 2021. I hope you will find my message helpful and encouraging.

I want to talk to you about balance. Not the kind of balance one experiences on a swinging bridge or in a high-wire act, but the kind of balance that comes within life itself. I know a lot of you may feel you’ve been robbed of much of your high school and college experience these last two years, because of the precautions necessary for Covid-19. And to that I say, you’re right. Is it fair to lose out on so many personal and monumental experiences in your life? The short answer is “No.”

Now, I could go on further and say, “But look around you as well. Was it fair for so many small businesses to fail because of lost revenue from this terrible virus? How about the millions of people who lost their jobs and careers as a result? Was it right for so many to endure extreme stress and food anxiety for so long? And of course, worst of all, for those that lost their lives due to this deadly pandemic?” To all this, the answer is a simple, “No, it’s not fair.” But with all that ringing true, it doesn’t diminish the disappointment graduates today must feel about their circumstances. It’s human nature, and in this case, a valid response no one can argue with.

What you’ve missed out on is real, but what you’ve experienced is real also. Maybe you missed out on prom, or celebrations, sporting events, socializing with friends, the list goes on. What you also experienced, though, was history. Yeah, I know, you’ve heard it all before, yada, yada, yada. But humor me for a moment. I’m not just saying the repeated adage that through adversity comes strength, and you’ll come out of this stronger and more resilient to tackle the challenges of life. All that’s true in its own right.

Instead, I want to emphasize the importance of the fact that each of you has experienced something that hasn’t happened in over a hundred years! I’m not talking about seeing a solar eclipse here; something that happens in a matter of minutes within a single day. I’m talking about something that has gone on for longer than a year. An event so impactful that it changes not only human lives, but the course of human existence in the future. The decisions you’ve made in this time will affect the decisions you make years from now. The experiences you’ve been through will define not only who you are, but also how you see the world later. It affects your judgment, how you see people, relate to people, perhaps even pre-judge others as well. It shapes how you will live your life in ways we cannot imagine completely at this moment. For instance, do you plan better financially? Will you be less materialistic in your desires, or more so, because you feel time is not guaranteed? Will you see loved ones in a different light? Will you repair broken relationships and mend old disagreements and grudges? Career decisions take on a new meaning. Some will see their careers as more impactful, while others may be more inclined to see work/life balance and enjoying what you do as more important than ever.

Balance, there’s the word I was looking for. Allow me to impart some advice that we older folks have learned through experience. My wise old grandmother (and I mean this most endearingly) once told me not to worry so much about the troubles of today, because life just has a way of balancing out. Both good times and bad pass eventually and we typically live for the most part somewhere in between these two states of being.

How does this help you today? Well, for all that you have lost, look for those other seemingly transparent gifts that you have gained from this experience. Has it made you more creative; has it inspired your entrepreneurial spirit; do you see the world in a new way; are you more imaginative; and do you appreciate the little moments in life you may have taken for granted before? I cannot begin to list all the ways here, but think about it and ask yourself if you can find something of use out of all this. And then use it to your advantage.

Don’t let this experience break you; instead, let it make you. As my grandmother Daisy said, “In the end, your life will balance out.” Rewards and good times will come again. And just think about all the stories you can tell for decades about this time.

Congratulations to all the graduates of the Class of 2021, and may your glass always be half-full!

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