A Cross with No Church

Photo by Miss M

Just off the Winona exit on I-55 is a large cross. It has bothered Miss M for some time that the associated church is not visible from either 55 or Hwy 82, so this afternoon we went looking. Near as we could tell, there is not a church associated with the large cross-- which is to say there's no church on any of the few roads we drove. 

The first turn off 82 one makes, however, is onto Brother Johnny Walker Drive. That was a clue.

The Weekly-FactorFebruary 22, 2005 

by Bubba Blissit 

Brother Johnny 

Johnny Walker stood in the pulpit where he has been for most of the services at First Baptist Church, Winona, Mississippi, for over 14 years. What he was about to tell his congregation, most had known for some time, yet no one wanted to hear it. Parkinson's Disease had progressed to the point that he would not be able to continue what the Lord had called him to do over 40 years ago. At the end of February, he would no longer be a pastor. 

Many eyes filled with tears, mine too. The "guy thing" wouldn't let me get in line with wet eyes to shake his hand. So I bit my lip, took my wife's arm, and walked quietly to our car. The "Why?" question popped in my mind several times that afternoon. Part of being a human, I guess. 

Brother Johnny is a terrific preacher. He can deliver a sermon with the best of them. He could have used First Baptist Winona as a stepping stone on his way to a church with thousands of members, not hundreds. But he didn't He gave his all for this church for 14 1/2 years because that was what he wanted to do. 

Brother Johnny's ministry extends past the corner of Church and Summit Streets. He is there for everyone in this community. His warmth and kindness, his message of Christ's Love have meant so much to so many. From his early morning radio devotional, to visitations late in the evening, he has worked tirelessly, and for the last few years bearing the cross of illness.

Read the rest here.

More on the Cross here-- though how the intersection of 55 & 82 is the "center of Winona" is a fine question. Good for you for asking!

WINONA, Miss. – (WCBI) The symbol for Christianity will soon stand tall in the center of Winona.
After eight years of planning, the site at the intersection of Hwy 82 and I-55 in Winona is finally under construction.

The End of an Era

John Bernard Books: Damn. 

Bond Rogers: John Bernard, you swear too much. 

John Bernard Books: The hell I do.

From The Shootist (1976) starring John Wayne and Lauren Becall.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine, Missy. I had coffee in Starkvegas with a friend-- that was refreshing! Thank you for asking. And how was your day?"

"Well. I note that you did not take us on our Constitutional in the Pasture. But aside from that, it was okay."

"Ruff!"

"I am sorry about that, y'all. And I am sorry about my tone with you, Missy, the other day."

"Perfectly understandable. There's a lot going on and we appreciate that we are the low mammals on the totem pole around here these days."

"Ruff???"

"Oh, don't worry, Rocky. That's just Missy reminding me in her own way how important y'all are to us."

"Ruff?"

"By the by, Marica, both of us feel as if something has gone horribly wrong with our friend, A. Leland. He seemed terribly sad at supper this evening. We tried jumping up on him and he barely engaged us. There's bad news about the old fellow Rudy, isn't there?"

"ruff?"

"Oh, Missy. You and Rocky are so perceptive. Rudy is now in a place this Side of Heaven where he's no longer suffering."

"ruff?"

"You mean he... he... he died?"

"Yes. Rudy died today."

"rufffffffffffffffffff"

"Oh my. Oh my." 

"ru.. ru.. ru... f... ."

...

...

"Marica? Should we pray or something?

"ruff?"

"I think we should recite Scripture. "

"I've memorized a passage that I think appropriate."

"ruff."

"Go ahead."

The Lord is my Shepherd; 

I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: 

He leadeth me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul: 

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.  

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: 

For thou art with me; 

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; 

Thou annointest my head with oil; 

My cup runneth over.  

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

"Amen."

"Amen"

"Ruff."

Rudy

Remember

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
     That mark our places; and in the sky
     The larks, still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
     Loved and were loved, and now we lie
          In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
     The torch; be your to hold it high.
     If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
          In Flanders fields.

--John McCrae

We have broken faith. 

I have a question.

I did a smidgen of scholarly research on the author of this poem.

A. E. Housman
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

A. E. Housman
Born	Alfred Edward Housman 26 March 1859 Bromsgrove, Worcestershire
Died	30 April 1936 (aged 77) Cambridge
Pen name	A. E. Housman
Occupation	Classicist, Poet
Nationality	British
Alma mater	St John's College, Oxford
Genres	Lyric poetry

Alfred Edward Housman (/ˈhaʊsmən/; 26 March 1859 – 30 April 1936), usually known as A. E. Housman, was an English classical scholar and poet, best known to the general public for his cycle of poems A Shropshire Lad. Lyrical and almost epigrammatic in form, the poems wistfully evoke the dooms and disappointments of youth in the English countryside. Their beauty, simplicity and distinctive imagery appealed strongly to late Victorian and Edwardian taste, and to many early 20th-century English composers (beginning with Arthur Somervell) both before and after the First World War. Through their song-settings, the poems became closely associated with that era, and with Shropshire itself.
Housman was one of the foremost classicists of his age and has been ranked as one of the greatest scholars who ever lived.[1][2] He established his reputation publishing as a private scholar and, on the strength and quality of his work, was appointed Professor of Latin at University College London and then at Cambridge. His editions of Juvenal, Manilius and Lucan are still considered authoritative.

[My emphasis.]

"One of the greatest scholars who ever lived." 

Good Lord! I'm sure you-- Dear Scholared Readers of Literature-- have heard of him but I hadn't until today.  

Q: Why is this?

That question assumes the premise-- that Houseman was one of the greatest scholars who ever lived. (I'm no philosopher, but I think that's called "begging the question.") And that he was a good poet. 

So I swiveled my chair around to pick up Miss M's copy of The New Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918 (Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed., Oxford University Press, New York, 1955, 1939, first published 1900) and I see that A.E. Houseman has a grand total of three (3) poems (pp. 1052-53) included.

So I'm not buying it. 

If he was one of the greatest scholars who ever lived who just happened to write poetry, he'd have gotten more than what amounts to a page in this 1100+ page anthology in 9-pt font. 

I did like the poem, though. I thought it appropriate for Decoration Day. 

WARNING! I'm in a Bad Mood.

I'm sort of sad about the Courthouse vote. 

I tried to occupy myself today as I thought through the implications. Traffic is going to be a nightmare as they build a new courthouse.

Mr. Big Food's Dad sent me a few little ditties that cheered me up.

Missy had a Big Day! So did Rocky!!

"Ruff."

Restore Or Replace?

January 17, 2013

Things move pretty fast here in rural north central Mississippi. Just 446 days after the Courthouse burned, the citizens of my little county are voting-- in a non-binding referendum-- on whether to restore or to replace the crappy old Courthouse.

We've been debating this-- and by "we" I mean the county supervisors and other officials, the mayor of the little village which is the county seat (who just happens to be an architect specializing in old building restoration), Mr. & Mrs. County citizen, and folks who haven't lived here in a coon's age but just happen to have been born here-- for over a year. These discussions (along with my Books Bygone column) have kept the weekly county newspaper in business! Some fellow even wrote poems about the Courthouse that appeared in the newspaper. And a coalition of citizens had machine-made signs made up supporting restoration!

We also are being sued by the company that insured the courthouse. And almost lost our opportunity at a half-million dollar grant for restoration. 

Diddle daddle.

The Supes (as we call our supervisors) finally decided to put the question to the People. 

Today Mr. Big Food and I voted. O'course, we couldn't vote where we usually do because our polling place burned down. I was #56 to vote in our precinct. 

This is such a BIG DEAL the mainstream media out of Tupelo even sent a reporter to cover the event!

I might be on television!!!

Okay. I get it.

Up at Drudgereport.com just now.

It's cold. Now let's get a grip on ourselves and try to put things into perspective.

The Jowell House built by George Jowell in 1872 after Indians burnt down his wood cabin.

Here's the story as told at the National Ranching Heritage Center in Lubock, Texas.

Click to enlarge and read.

The inside of the downstairs.

See that stove? That's it people.

And you want to talk about "life threatening?" 

Head stones from the final resting place of some of Jowell's descendents.

Franklin C. 1873-1876

James P. 1876-1878

Joel W. 1878-1878

Lona Bell 1880-1880

Euell Homar 1882-1883

Things don't seem all that bad today, now, do they? Maybe a little cold and windy. That's all.

"Etiquette, the observance of formal rules of conduct, is nowhere more admirely proper than in connection with the funeral."

"One of the underlying purposes of all good manners is to lend grace and dignity to life to ameliorate its crudities, to do away with its vulgarities, to regulate the familiar intercourse of human beings in such a way as to avoid friction, coarseness and that which leads to contempt. And good manners in connection with all that has to do with death are just as essential."

You have seen the photographs. You are just as disgusted as I. Let's not let this display of grotesque manners spoil our day. 

The Book of Good Manners: A Guide to Polite Usage for All Social Functions. Frederick H. Martens. Social Culture Publications, New York. 1923.

The Most Momentous Weekend

 

From Lowell Thomas. History As You Heard It. Doubleday & Company, Inc., Garden City, N.Y. 1957.

November 11th or Thereabouts

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Today, I'd like to honor a particular cohort of Veterans-- one with whom our civil servants have recently broken faith. Toward that end, I've compiled a list of news worthy events that happened on or about November 11 in the years leading up to, including, and after World War II. All are from Lowell Thomas' (1957) book, History As You Heard It. (More of the poem here; about the book, here.)

Normandy. (from The Great Republic: A History of the American People (1977), p.1174)

1930: A sensational report comes from Russia. The Soviet Government has let our a roar about a gigantic international plot to overthrow the Bolsheviks. ... the mysterious Lawrence of Arabia is dragged in. The Bolsheviks say that Lawrence has a prominent role in the plot. (11/11)

1931: Heavy fighting is reported in Manchuria. Another battle is on at Tokyo, -- the struggle for control between the peace party and the war party... (11/16)

1932: Hindenburg and Hitler met today. And the aged President gave the Nazi chief the opportunity to become Chancellor... . Some observers insist that Hitler will not become Chancellor and that he is headed for his final downfall. (11/21)

1933: One French newspaper declares that the Reichswehr, Germany's only legitimate military force, has been doubled in strength. ... now eight hundred thousand men under arms. (11/10)

1934:  Little Gloria Vanderbilt, the ten-year-old heiress to two million dollars, is ordered by the court to remain in the custody of her aunt. ... In England, Mrs. Alice Hargreaves has died at the age of eighty-two. As a little girl, she was the original Alice of Alice in Wonderland. Let's believe that today Alice went to Wonderland. (11/16)

Tragedy in a Small Town

I'm no fan of Eudora Welty. I read her book, The Optimist's Daughter, and was not impressed-- although I was engaged until the very end. But elsewhere, she does have this to say:

Southerners tend to live in one place, where they can see whole lives unfolding around them. It gives them a natural sense of the narrative, of the dramatic content of life.

Today, the dramatic content of life unfolded in a most tragic way. 

Details are sketchy but what is certain is that a 52 year old man, a 13 year veteran of the local police force, with six kids and five grand-kids, was killed by some bad guys. He was off duty at the time.

A. Leland commented that things like this happen every day in Chicago. 

They do not happen every day here.

We did not know the officer, but I did recognize him from the football game the other week.

To be honest, I'm not much of a prayin' person, except when I have no other recourse. But to those of you who are, please pray for Keith Crenshaw's family. And please pray that those who are still alive (some died) who contributed to Keith's death burn in eternal hell. 

If Not for Him

July 12

Caius Julius Caesar 100-Ides of March 44bc. Roman general and ruler; statesman, scholar and writer; introduced the Julian calendar.

If it weren't for good old Julius

Josiah Wedgwood 1730-Jan. 3, 1795. Staffordshire potter, the greatest of English potters and one of the foremost in the world,

Henry David Thoreau 1817-May 6, 1862. New England author-naturalist; famous for the journal he kept for many years, 

and

George Eastman 1854-Mar 14, 1932. American pioneer in photographic industry, inventor of photographic improvements, including the kodak 1888; philanthropist and patron of music

would not have been born on today's date. 

from Anniversaries and Holidays: A Calendar of Days and How to Observe Them. Mary E. Hazeltine. American Library Association, Chicago. 1965.

The Ghost in the Machine

Via Instapundit.com at Slate:

One recent evening, I celebrated my birthday in the outdoor courtyard of a bar. As the night wore on, and friends fell by the wayside, each departure occasioned a small ritual. A pal would sidle up to whichever conversational circle I was in; edge closer and closer, so as to make herself increasingly conspicuous; and finally smile, apologetically, when the conversation halted so I could turn to her and say goodbye.

Nothing but good intentions here. To some small extent, I appreciated the politeness of this parting gesture. It was not a major imposition to pause for a moment and thank folks for coming.

But there’s a better way. One that saves time and agita, acknowledges clear-eyed realities, and keeps the social machine humming.

Just Ghost.

In other words, just leave without saying, "Thank you."

You can send a thank you email the next morning.

Still think it’s an etiquette breach? Simply replace your awkward goodbye with a heartfelt email sent the following morning. This note can double as a formal thank you to the host—a rare gesture these days, and one that actually does have value.

1. "Agita." I didn't take 1++++++ years of Latin for nothing, smarty pants. Agita: (1) heartburn; (2) agitation, anxiety. "Saves time and heartburn" &/or "Saves time and agitation, anxiety." You need a better thesaurus, Dude.

2. How rude! Geeze. Amy is on the bottom of the pile but I see now that I have retrieved Amy Vanderbilt's New Complete Book of Etiquette: the Guide to Gracious Living (Amy Vanderbilt, Doubleday & Company, Inc., Garden City, NY, 1967) page 313 is bookmarked with a slip of paper-- that's where the term "bookmarked" derived, by the way: an actual mark in an actual book. Amy says:

"It is never necessary to make elaborate and lengthy excuses for leaving a party. A reluctance to leave should always be shown by one's manner or words, of course, no matter what kind of time you've had."

 3. "There's a better way." And of course, you, Seth Stevenson, have found it, after all these years. 

Let me pause my little rant and acknowledge the obvious, as Seth does:

We all agree it’s fun to say hello. A hello has the bright promise of a beginning. It’s the perfect occasion to express your genuine pleasure at a friend’s arrival. But who among us enjoys saying goodbye? None among us! Not those leaving, and not those left behind.

4. The reason we civilized folk make such a big deal of saying "Goodbye" is that we know it may be our last "Goodbye." Shit happens.

How have you missed this lesson? 

Perspective

I missed this-- from The American Patriot's Almanac (Bennett, 2008)-- at the end of May, but it's worth sharing.

page 180; click to enlarge

I'll do the math for you.

1% of the (estimated) population of the Colonies in 1776 died fighting the Revolutionary War.

1.9% of the population of all states in 1861 died fighting the Civil War.

0.1% of the population of the United States in 1917 died fighting in WWI.

0.3% of the population of the United States in 1941 died fighting in WWII.

[Population estimates and data from 1776-present (2010) here.]

Happy Father's Day!

The Farmer and His Sons

A Farmer, being at death's door, and desiring to impart to his sons a secret of much moment, called them around them and said, "My sons, I am shortly about to die. I would have you know, therefore, that in my vineyard lies a hidden treasure. Dig, and you will find it." As soon as their father was dead, the sons took spade and fork and turned up the soil if the vineyard over and over again, in their search for the treasure which they supposed to lie there. They found none, however: but the vines, after so thorough a digging, produced a crop as had never before been seen.

There is no treasure without toil.

Aesop

A BIG "Thank You" to the Father, Father-in-Law, and "step-Daddy" in my life who toiled so hard to pass on a BIG Treasured Life to their sons and daughters.

~~
from The Book of Virtues: A Treasury of Great Moral Stories. William J. Bennett ed. Simon & Schuster, New York &c. 1993.

Latin for All Occasions

I couldn't resist passing this along. It seems that we Redneck Gun-Totin' Country Mice out here in rural Mississippi are smarter than David Cameron, the British Prime Minister. Steyn:

Appearing on David Letterman’s show a while back, Cameron was unable to translate into English the words “Magna Carta,” which has quite a bit to do with that “British way of life” he’s so keen on. 

Hey, David! Utinam barbari spatium proprium tuum invadant, you idiot!

Oh. Wait. That's already happened.  

[Latin translation from Latin for All Occasions by Henry Beard, Villard Books, New York, 1990, p65, "Useful curses"]

Remembering

Suzy

Farm News

1. We buried Lucky.

2. It's raining like crazy.

3. We'll not be going to the Over-Grown Pasture again until Fall. Poor Dogs. They did all the right things. Sit. Stay. ... Sit. Stay. I got them back to the house and loaded the 20g but the copperhead at the gate was then nowhere to be seen.

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord, my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord, my soul to take.

Ahem

Rest in Peace Lucky, tiny kitty.