'PEACH BASKET ROMANCE'

The year was 1905, and cotton was ‘King’ across the South. Although, in the little village of Cohutta, Georgia, located just below the Tennessee state line, peaches ran a close 2^nd, providing area farmers with another much needed source of income.

One such peach producer was William L. Waterhouse, whose two teenage daughters handled the sorting and packing of the peaches, from their family’s orchard, while he tended to his prosperous mercantile business.

The monotonous job of packing peaches was made even more so, by the summer heat and humidity, and it wasn’t long before 16-year-old Leila came up with a game to make her work a bit more tolerable.

On small pieces of paper, she began writing her name and address, along with the words ‘write me’. She then placed one of the notes into each of the baskets of peaches they packed. To both girls, this was exciting, for who knew where the peaches might end up. The game helped pass the time.

That evening, their father took the baskets of peaches to the railroad depot, where they were placed in refrigerated cars for transportation to nearby Chattanooga, Tennessee, and from there to different parts of the country.

Days later, in a grocery store, 350-miles away, in Anderson, Indiana, 19-year-old Ernest Abel, on an errand for his mother, happened to find one of Leila’s ‘write me’ notes in a basket of peaches. Undoubtedly, he’d never heard of Cohutta, Georgia, but his interest was piqued by Leila’s note, and he decided to respond. Imagine the Waterhouse girls’ surprise when their father arrived home one afternoon with mail for Leila, and from of all places…Indiana.

Leila & Ernest Abel on their Wedding Day

Regular correspondence between Leila and Earnest ensued, and their interest in one another grew. A year or so later, a most remarkable thing happened. Young Mr. Abel arrived in Cohutta to meet Miss Leila Waterhouse, and, despite her father’s misgivings, a romance developed between the two young people.

More such visits occurred, until it became evident that Earnest and Leila intended to marry. Leila’s father, a staunch Presbyterian, disapproved of his daughter marrying young Mr. Abel, who was of the Catholic faith. Even though Mr. Waterhouse refused to give his consent, the couple was not deterred, and their long-distance relationship continued.

Then, in August of 1907, Leila’s father suddenly and unexpectedly took sick and, within days, died. Respectful of her husband’s wishes, Leila’s stepmother still refused to consent to the marriage, but despite this, the young couple remained devoted to one another. Enough so, that two years later, Earnest traveled one last time to Cohutta. Only this time, it wasn’t to visit Leila, but to finally take her for his wife.

At high noon on Saturday, the 14^th day of August 1909, the priest at Fort Oglethorpe, in neighboring Catoosa County, Georgia, performed the marriage ceremony that united 21-year-old Leila and 23-year-old Ernest in holy matrimony.

Ernest & Leila Abel
on their 50th Wedding Anniversary

            Afterwards, they took the 3:50 train back to Cohutta, where a 6 o’clock dinner was graciously given in their honor by Leila’s step-mother Ida Waterhouse. It was noted in the North Georgia Citizen newspaper, that Mrs. Abel received many beautiful presents, consisting of cut glass, hand-painted china, and silver. The happy couple left Cohutta that evening on the 7:40 train bound for Indiana. At Anderson, Earnest’s own family welcomed Leila with open arms, immediately making her feel right at home.

The years of their life together passed steadily for Leila and Earnest, as they nurtured their growing family, through both good times and bad. Throughout all, though, one thing was constant; their deep affection and love for one another. That never changed.

On Friday the 14^th of August 1959, Leila and Ernest celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary with their children in Sylmar, California. 47–year-old Herman, their eldest son, and 34-year-old Fred, their youngest son, acted as the ‘alter boys’ for the Mass. It was a very special time for all.

           A year and a half later, in January of 1961, Leila Townes Waterhouse Abel passed away and was interred in the East Maplewood Cemetery, in Anderson, Indiana. In April of 1967, her beloved husband Ernest Paul was laid to rest at her side.

'DO US A GOOD JOB. DO US YOUR BEST.'

           Today, I wrote another of my many letters to my elected representatives up in Washington, D.C., Congressman Tom Graves and Senators Saxby Chambliss and Johnny Isakson. Now, some folks might claim that that was just a waste of time, that it won't change a bloomin' thing, but I don't agree. How in the world are our representatives supposed to know how to represent us folks here in Georgia if'n we don't let 'em know from time-to-time?

           Of course, today's letter was prompted by all that gun control talk bein' bantered about by those in power, and don't you just know I had to speak my piece about a few other things, as well, while I was at it. But I reckon more'n anything, I just wanted to remind them three Georgia boys what's stuck up there in that mess of a Capitol city we got, that there's folks back here at home that are a watchin' and a listenin' to what they're a doin' and a sayin', and that we're hopin' they'll do right by us. Well, enough of that. Here's what my letter had to say:

Sen. Saxby Chambliss - GA

"Dear Sir,

           First and foremost, I wanna make it known that my family and I strongly believe in keepin' our 2^nd Amendment Rights. We’ve broken no laws, and therefore we have no reason to be punished. Any new laws enacted will still make no difference to any person intent on doin' evil.

Just this morning, I read a quote in the paper, and I wholeheartedly agree with it… “We must not allow, nor shall we tolerate, the actions of criminals, no matter how heinous the crimes, to prompt politicians to enact laws that will infringe upon the liberties of responsible citizens who have broken no laws.”  Like I said, we’ve done no wrong and have no reason to be punished.

Rep. Tom Graves - GA

With all courteousness, I want to respectfully ask that you fight with all of your might against each and every measure of expandin’ gun control on the American people, whether it be by Congress or through executive action by the President. I hope to see you be a leader, an example to our other elected representatives in standing up for not just this, but for all of our rights, Mr. Senator/Congressman. No more compromise, no more deals. Stand up for what is right. No action is better than taking the wrong action.

With that said, we also want less control all around, less regulations, less taxes, less ‘nanny-state’… in short, less government intrusion in our lives. The majority of us are hard workin’, responsible folks… way more responsible, at least fiscally, than Congress and the Administration currently are. Those Americans that aren’t ‘responsible’ and find themselves ‘needing’ or ‘deserving’ of government entitlements will never be anything other than irresponsible as long as the government keeps takin’ money from me and mine to keep them folks up. And the long-term effects are that those individuals raise their children up to have the same mentalities, leading to successive generations of ne’r-do-wells. It’s time to put a stop to all that business. It ain’t good for the country, it ain’t good for the folks what’s dependent on it, and it dang sure ain’t good for those of us that’s a havin' to pay for it.

Sen. Johnny Isakson - GA

Please take note that me & mine, my family, my friends, and many, many others of our kind, would rather see things grind to a halt in Washington, D.C. than for them to go any further down the slippery slope that our country seems to be headin’ down. Please remember, at all times, to adhere to the Constitution, for it, more than anything, is the ultimate guide to keeping this great republic of ours strong.

And last, but not least, sir, I want you to know that I would much rather be enjoyin’ life, plannin’ future fishin’ and campin’ trips, thinkin’ about what all I’m gonna plant in my garden come Spring, than worryin’ about all the maladies of our country. The best us country folk can tell, all this turmoil seems to be comin' from the city, from one city in particular… Washington, D.C. Just you remember... you ain’t from ‘up there’, so don’t become ‘one of them’. Do your job like we sent you ‘up there’ to do, represent us, your constituents, the American people. Do us a good job. Do your best. That’s all can be expected of a man. I appreciate you takin’ time to hear me out. Let me know if there’s anything me and mine can do to help you get things done ‘up there’. Have a good day, Mr. Senator/Congressman.

Sincerely..."

‘CHRISTMAS CHAOS’

“One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don't clean it up too quickly.” - Andy Rooney

          Some families celebrate Christmas by scurrying about from one relative’s house to another, dutifully making the obligated rounds, while others have all of their family gather in one place or another, together. Some open presents over a period of days, while others wait ‘til the actual day of Christmas to exchange gifts.

For my own family’s Christmas, we, my brothers and our families, all get together at our parents’ for our traditional Christmas Eve supper of fried chicken tenders, shoestring fries, baked potatoes, and salad. A huge platter heaped high with homemade goodies such as coconut balls, peppermint patties, peanut butter balls, orange slice cookies, Hello Dolly cookies, and fudge-mint brownies is dessert. And then once the table is cleared, we move to the living room for what we lovingly refer to, in our family, as ‘Christmas Chaos’… the opening of Christmas presents.

My Daddy is the ‘master of ceremonies’, in charge of passing presents out, and within minutes the kids are ripping into their presents, squealing with delight, the adults commentin’ one to another about what they got each kid, why, how hard it was to find just the right toy, and how great of a deal they got on it. During which, my Daddy is still calling out over them all the name of the person to whom the next present is for. Throw in intermittent camera flashes, an escalating noise level, and an errant wad of wrapping paper thrown across the room from one brother at another or one nephew at an uncle. And before you know it, 40-minutes later, the pile of presents under the tree has disappeared, and the living room suddenly resembles a disaster area. Adults and children alike are in the floor either assembling toys or already playing with them. The mood in the room is light, cheerful, and totally carefree. And from the wooden rocking chair where I sit, I observe it all with quiet contentment.

This is my family, and I am so very, very happy that they are mine, each and every one of them. I recall past Christmases and family members who are now celebrating the Holidays in a much better place, and I smile. Of all the different family Christmas traditions… the one thing they all have in common is the wonderful mess of ‘family’ created in living rooms just like ours. So, enjoy it, and don't clean it up too quickly.

                     Merry Christmas to all!

‘THE AMERICAN PEOPLE’S LIBERTY TEETH’

Posted yesterday on FACEBOOK, “Why does a standard citizen need an AK-47 or other assault rifle? Those should be reserved for law enforcement and the military. Every citizen should have the right to a pistol, hunting rifles, and shotguns, but… not assault rifles.”

Now, I understand the knee-jerk reactions to the recent incident of senseless violence in Connecticut, where a disturbed person using illegally obtained firearms indiscriminately murdered multiple innocents, and normally I would limit my comments on the subject until inflamed passions died down. This time is different. This is to set the record straight on one thing in particular… why a law-abiding American citizen needs an ‘assault rifle’.

Let me start with the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution, which states "A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed." I’m sure you’re no stranger to that, but did you know that the same Congress that passed the Second Amendment also passed the Militia Act of 1792, which defined ‘militia’ as "each and every able-bodied male citizen" from age 18 to 45 (with some exceptions) and stated that each one shall "provide himself" with a gun, ammunition, and a bayonet.

Though revised several times over the past 220-years, the current Militia Act basically keeps the same language ("all able-bodied males at least 17 years of age and . . . under 45"), and further defines ‘militia’ as: "(1) the organized militia, which consists of the National Guard and the Naval Militia; and (2) the unorganized militia, which consists of the members of the militia who are not members of the National Guard or the Naval Militia." [Title 10, U.S. Code, Section 311]. So, now you know what constitutes a ‘militia’… we do, the American people. We are considered ‘unorganized militia’.

In explanation of this, our 3^rd President and the author of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson put it plainly, "The strongest reason for people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government."

Our Nation’s Founding Fathers had the wisdom and foresight to guarantee that the citizens of this great nation have the right to possess the means to protect themselves and to reclaim control of our government should it one day become irredeemably corrupt and oppressive. Something these men knew all too well and feared might someday happen.

Now going even further in confirming our right to firearms, our very own Georgia Supreme Court opined that "The right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. The right of the whole people, old and young, men, women and boys, and not militia only, to keep and bear arms of every description… shall not be infringed, curtailed, or broken in upon, in the smallest degree; and all this for the important end to be attained: the rearing up and qualifying a well-regulated militia, so vitally necessary to the security of a free State. Our opinion is that any law, State or Federal, is repugnant to the Constitution, and void, which contravenes this right." [Nunn vs. State, 1 Ga. (1 Kel.) 243, at 251 (1846)]

So, let’s answer the man’s question… “Why does a standard citizen need an AK-47 or other assault rifle?” To be able to effectively protect the United States of America and her people, that’s why. If the unthinkable someday does go down, what good would revolvers, single-shot shotguns, and bolt-action rifles do against a corrupt government (or invading foreign force) armed with not only assault rifles, but some of the most advanced weaponry in the world? What good would they do against a heavily armed terrorist here in our own hometowns attempting to harm our families, friends, or neighbors? And, people, make no mistake, that is exactly what the mentally unstable perpetrators in Connecticut, Oregon, Arizona, Colorado, and Fort Hood, Texas, were… TERRORISTS. They were evildoers with deadly intent towards the law abiding citizens and defenseless innocents of this country. I, for one, want to be prepared. No, let me rephrase that… I will be prepared. I owe it not only to my family, but to my country, as well.

“Firearms stand next in importance to the Constitution itself. They are the American people's liberty teeth and keystone under independence... From the hour the Pilgrims landed, to the present day, events, occurrences, and tendencies prove that to insure peace, security and happiness, the rifle and pistol are equally indispensable . . . the very atmosphere of firearms everywhere restrains evil interference - they deserve a place of honor with all that is good."

- George Washington, 1^st President of the United States

‘ALL WILL IN-DEED BE OKAY'

After such a tumultuous and negative presidential campaign that has so engrossed and divided our nation over the past year and a half, last night’s bitter defeat of Romney and Ryan had me feeling as if I were standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering on the brink of feeling totally hopeless, even though I still wanted so badly somehow, someway, to stay optimistic. And wouldn't you know it? Just when an encouraging word was needed most; a very dear friend of mine unknowingly came to my aid.

He said, and I quote “We must remember that one man can not destroy this country, one man can not lose us our freedom. We are still the greatest country on this great earth.”

My God!! Those are words that equal anything ever spoken by even Washington, Roosevelt, Kennedy, or Reagan.

He went on to suggest that we “continue to believe in us”, meaning America, and that we pray for ourselves, for each other, our country, and also pray for our President, that he be shown the direction to help lead us.

Harry Worley - Vietnam Veteran

Here, when it seems like this great nation of ours is in peril of self-destructing… comes true wisdom from a great man and a good friend that immediately gave me hope, gave me confidence that this great country we so dearly love will in-deed be okay.

Thank you, Harry Worley, for such calming words of encouragement. America is still the greatest country on this great earth, and I, too, say “God Bless America.”

‘IT IS THE JOURNEY THAT MATTERS’



Glacier National Park, Montana

            I’ve dreamed about goin’ ‘out west’ most all my life, and recently I was invited to fly out to Montana next summer and spend a week explorin’ Glacier National Park with my daughter and some friends. I’ve yet to decide for sure whether I’ll go, or not. You see, I’ve always dreamed of seein’ the West… but, at ground level, not from a jet airplane 30,000-feet up.

Maybe it’s the historian in me or better yet, the fact that I’m a hopeless romantic, but experiencin' the journey itself is almost as important to me as is reachin' the final destination.

I’d like to cross the mighty Mississipp’ there at St. Louie, the jumpin'-off-place for 19^th Century adventurers and pioneers headin' out into the western lands. I want to travel mile-upon-mile across the prairies of Nebraska, through the arid sagebrush-covered flats of Wyoming, and over the rollin' plains of Montana, to see what the hardy pioneers and the grizzled ol’ mountain men saw, be awed as they most surely were, as well as, to travel along at my own leisurely pace so as to stop and see the much heralded points of interest along the way. Things such as the World’s Largest Ball of Twine and Carhenge to name just a couple.

'The Waterfall Room', Glacier NP



And, as much as I want to pull a fine Cutthroat Trout from one of Glacier Park’s many pristine streams, feel the spray on my skin from inside The Waterfall Room, and walk within mere yards of a mountain goat along the Continental Divide, I equally wanna smell the musty, earthiness of a prairie ‘sod house’, watch a shaggy ol’ buffalo bull wallow in the dust, and see pronghorn antelope bound effortlessly across the short-grass prairie. I want to follow the steel ribbons across Nebraska that was once the ‘Transcontinental Railroad’, stop and wade the amazingly shallow Platte River, and walk the still visible ruts of the old Oregon Trail.

Ulm Pishkun Buffalo Jump, near Great Falls, Montana



I’d like to sit in the warm sunshine, on a grassy bank of the Missouri River, reading from Ambrose’s UNDAUNTED COURAGE, imaginin’ Lewis and Clark paddlin’ past that very spot some 200-years ago, or stand at the edge of the Ulm Pishkun with the wind in my face, imagining the yells of Indian braves, the thunderin' hoof beats of a herd of bison as they are stampeded off the bluff, and the awful carnage at the base of the cliff where the animals lay broken and dyin' as the squaws set to work butcherin’ their mass kill.

'Carhenge'



And after a week of burnin' muscles and callused and sore feet from hikin' the high mountain trails of Glacier, instead of takin' a rental car back to the airport, I’d rather take the backroads home, stoppin' to explore the Blackfoot and Cheyenne Indian Reservations and watch gaily dressed tribal members perform elaborate fancy dances. I’d choose to walk along the hillside above the Little Bighorn, reflectin' on what a sight it must’ve been to behold the largest Indian encampment ever gathered in one place, any day, over a quick trip home via American Airways.

I want to look straight up from the foot of the Devil’s Tower and feel incredibly insignificant, and stand at the Medicine Wheel, high up in the Bighorn Mountains, hopin' for a vision much like the Indian medicine men of old came here to get. I’d swing through South Dakota to see Teddy Roosevelt’s beloved Badlands, then cross the infamous Black Hills to see his likeness on the side of Mount Rushmore.

          No, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that experiencin’ every aspect; every mile of the trip in real time, much like those who opened up the West did (sans the whole covered wagon, hostile Indians, and months of hardship-thing), would definitely be much more enjoyable than seein' the West for the first time from high up in the sky.

Nebraska prairie



Ernest Hemingway once said that “It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”  I do believe I’ll have to agree with the ol’ rum-swillin’ bastard on this one.  J

‘TO READ IS TO LIVE’

“It is often said that one has but one life to live, but that is nonsense. For one who reads, there is no limit to the number of lives that may be lived, for fiction, biography and history offer an inexhaustible number of lives in many parts of the world, in all periods of time.” - Louis L'Amour, Education of a Wandering Man

           Anyone that knows Ol’ Burr can tell you that I'm never without a book, and with good reason, too. For each book that I delve into, takes me somewhere I’ve never been, allows me to experience different cultures and life in other time periods, and to witness daring adventures, by characters far more exciting than this over-40 divorcé what lives up behind his parents’ barn will ever hope to become.

I’ve ridden the highline trails of the Rockies with the likes of mountain men Titus Bass, Smoke Jensen, and the Sacketts, I’ve slipped through the old growth forests of Colonial New England with Natty Bumpo and Chingachgook as we made war on the hated Mingos, and I’ve ridden night herd on Mr. John Chisholm’s Longhorns on the trail to Abilene. I’ve hunted buffalo and fought the Cheyenne alongside Bill Cody, and thanks to Apikuni, I’ve hung on every word of the stories told by the Blackfeet elders as they sat around their fires during the dead of winter.

          I’ve sat across from young Aristotle, at the Academy, in Athens, as Plato himself lectured us on philosophy and science. I traveled as an ‘observer’, of sorts, with Captains Meriwether Lewis and William Clark’s Corps of Discovery expedition, and I was there as Prince Madoc oversaw the construction of a series of stone fortifications near the headwaters of the Coosa River in present-day Georgia. I’ve fly fished for trophy trout with Joe Brooks, and stoodby in awe as ‘Teddy’ Roosevelt fired round after round into a charging bull elephant before it finally collapsed, very literally, at our feet. I vividly recall the day that Dirk Pitt found the lost city of Atlantis in Antarctica, and just as fresh in my memory is that harrowing day in June of ’44 when ‘Easy’ Company of the 101^st jumped in behind the German lines at Normandy.

Photo of bear hunt from 'Our Southern Highlanders'

I’ve also endured the hardships of a Smoky Mountains’ winter bear hunt with Horace Kephart and his beloved Southern Highlanders, sat for hours at Sloppy Joe’s Bar in the Keys sippin’ Mojitos and listenin’ to Hemingway boast of the Marlins he’s caught, and I’ve traveled across Europe and Asia in the company of the Hansgraf’s merchant caravan, plodding along to the methodical beat of the Walking Drum. I also saw the look in Todd Beamer’s eyes when he gave the signal of “Let’s Roll!” as he and his fellow passengers revolted against their terrorist hijackers, causing United Airlines Flight 193 to crash in a Pennsylvania field instead of into the White House, and I was there amid the smoke, the dust, and the acrid smell of burnt gunpowder, watching in horror as Lt. Mike Murphy and his SEAL team were surrounded by the Taliban in the mountains of Afghanistan and cut down in the prime of their lives. These are only a small sampling of the myriad of lives I’ve lived.

Books not only engage and entertain one’s mind, but they teach and instruct, as well, opening new horizons and constantly increasing the reader’s wealth of knowledge. I have been fortunate, for I had Stephen Ambrose as my American history professor, and I learned oceanography from Captain Jacques Cousteau. I cut my teeth on modern political science with Beck, Levin, and Limbaugh, while Lee and Grant gave me the fundamentals of military leadership, and Washington and Adams, a primer on civic responsibility. Yes, I have been very fortunate, in-deed.

I can’t even begin to imagine how boring, how lackluster my life might have turned out had it not been for my love of reading. Thank goodness for my having enjoyed spending my elementary school days with Dick and Jane, and for having had such a wonderful person as Dr. Seuss to hang out with later on.