Beautiful photo of a tragedy. Her husband Sgt La David Terrence Johnson was an American service member killed in action in West Africa.
From the Washington Post - But to his family and his community in Miami Gardens, Fla., Johnson was also known as “Wheelie King,” a nickname he earned for riding his bicycle on one wheel. He rode a lot, usually on his way to work, when he was still a civilian.
“You go slow, though. Make sure you keep your balance,” Johnson told ABC affiliate WPLG in 2013, the year before he enlisted in the Army. “Once you feel that you are comfortable, you could just ride all day.”
Johnson and three other American soldiers were killed in an ambush in Niger on Oct. 4.
He left behind a wife who is six months pregnant and two children, a 2-year-old boy and a 6-year-old girl. Now, two weeks after the 25-year-old Special Forces soldier’s death, his name is entangled in a controversy involving President Trump, who has been accused of making insensitive remarks to Johnson’s young widow.
(He didn't know the soldier's name and kept calling him "Your guy" and also insisted, Well, this is what he signed up for.)
From the Times on Thursday - The White House chief of staff, John F. Kelly,
defended President Trump’s call to the widow of a slain soldier and
described the trauma of learning about his own son’s death in
Afghanistan during a news briefing on Thursday.
Have I told you my short story WHEN DAD COMES HOME FROM THE WAR was published?
Read it here. ***
LIFE MAGAZINE
MARCH 25, 1966
35 cents
In my frenzy of downsizing
I came across their
LSD issue.
The mag once belonged to
a Mrs C of Philadelphia
which I bought at a yard sale.
Mrs C must have been
horrified to read about
lysergic acid diethylamide
Little did she know that her
husband, Mr C and his mistress
a young woman we'll call Lolita
had been using the drug on
weekends when he was supposed
to be working overtime - wink wink -
If you'd gone to the Holiday Inn
on Market Street you would have
heard from Room 101
Quacks like a duck, hee-haws
like a donkey - their riotous laughter
and jumping about the room
like the Ballet Russe on drugs.
And now, the so-called experts
are drumming up new ways to use
the substance. Read the Internet.
Me, I'll stick with my morning tea.
I told my sister Donna I don't like
the Tetley Organic Green Tea
- it tastes like leftover rain water -
and she suggested I put in several bags
which I did, and who knows?
Maybe someone will slug me and I
can put them over my sore eye?
MARCH 25, 1966
35 cents
In my frenzy of downsizing
I came across their
LSD issue.
The mag once belonged to
a Mrs C of Philadelphia
which I bought at a yard sale.
Mrs C must have been
horrified to read about
lysergic acid diethylamide
Little did she know that her
husband, Mr C and his mistress
a young woman we'll call Lolita
had been using the drug on
weekends when he was supposed
to be working overtime - wink wink -
If you'd gone to the Holiday Inn
on Market Street you would have
heard from Room 101
Quacks like a duck, hee-haws
like a donkey - their riotous laughter
and jumping about the room
like the Ballet Russe on drugs.
And now, the so-called experts
are drumming up new ways to use
the substance. Read the Internet.
Me, I'll stick with my morning tea.
I told my sister Donna I don't like
the Tetley Organic Green Tea
- it tastes like leftover rain water -
and she suggested I put in several bags
which I did, and who knows?
Maybe someone will slug me and I
can put them over my sore eye?
***
I had to remove the post on Organized Approach, the column on throwing things away, but I am still in hot pursuit of downsizing!
Most of my books are gone, given to Upper Moreland Library to be resold.
La Pedrera I've kept - the glorious apartment complex in Barcelona - which I took to Mom's. We read it after our quiche lunch Ellen made us before she left for PAFA.
The other day I went to my linen closet to find a fresh towel. When I opened it, I noticed what was inside FOR THE FIRST TIME!
The towels came spilling out! How many towels does one person need?!
This morning, in fact, I went to the drop box across from the Giant - Planet Aid - and plopped a white trash bag full of towels inside.
Of course I felt sad! Until I drove over.
The other day I stopped off at the Upper Moreland Police office and placed my old painkillers - some 10 to 15 yrs old - into their drop box.
Why was I keeping them?
This is a good place for a poem and I think we'll call it TOWELS.
TOWELS
A leaning tower of old towels
tilted this morning on my purple chair
and ottoman. I had been collecting
them since the day I moved in
some 27 years ago.
They had a pleasant smell about them
from whatever cheapest laundry
detergent I'd used on them
all these years.
Some were gifts. Some I took
when I was leaving home from
Mom's. Do you believe I have never
bought myself a single towel, yet
have given them as gifts.
The place where I took them
will send them on. May I allow
myself to believe that some
are going to San Juan?
Can you see little Jose
and Natalia using them
to dry off after their bath?
This faraway woman wishes
you and your family todo lo mejor
all the best and a return to
the way it was.
Muy bien, mi amiga.
ReplyDelete