Sunday, September 30, 2012

US military deaths in Afghanistan hit 2,000

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Death Snips Proud Men/Losses=Carl Sandburg Poems

Sandburg was 89 years old when he died of old age in 1967.  The day he died his strong voice went silent.  His cremated body is buried beneath a large rock in the yard of his childhood home in Galesburg, Illinois.  The house is "on 3rd Street, the 2nd house east of the Chicago Burlington and Quincy railroad tracks."  He grew up poor and became in life and icon of his time.



Death Snips Proud Men by Carl Sandburg
DEATH is stronger than all the governments because the governments are men and men die and then death laughs: Now you see ’em, now you don’t.

Death is stronger than all proud men and so death snips proud men on the nose, throws a pair of dice and says: Read ’em and weep.

Death sends a radiogram every day: When I want you I’ll drop in—and then one day he comes with a master-key and lets himself in and says: We’ll go now.

Death is a nurse mother with big arms: ’Twon’t hurt you at all; it’s your time now; you just need a long sleep, child; what have you had anyhow better than sleep?

LOSSES

I HAVE love
And a child,
A banjo
And shadows.
(Losses of God,
All will go
And one day
We will hold
Only the shadows.)



Monday, September 24, 2012

Death And The Civil War-The Dead The Dead The Dead

750,000 Americans died during the Civil War, a massive and unprecedented amount of death.   That was about 2.5% of the U.S. population then.  Comparably that would be about 8 million dead people today.  The US was forced to confront death on a large scale.  Americans were shocked and everyone was affected by the war.  At the outset of the war everyone thought that the fighting would be brief and casualties minimal.
We own our own bodies and our own mortality.  It is the obligation of the living to care for the dead.  When the Civil War started there were no national military cemeteries, no ambulance service, no Arlington, no dog tags, no adequate hospitals, no understanding of disease, no embalming, no burial details, no benefits for the families of those killed, etc.  Hundreds of thousands of those killed are buried as "Unknown."  In the 1800's death was a part of life:  you lived well to die well.  You died at home and you accepted death surrounded by loved ones.  There will be a big family reunion in heaven in the future.  Your body will be whole in heaven.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Freud's Deathday Today-Where is Freud buried?-New Yorker Freud Cartoon

The New Yorker

Sigmund Freud (May 6, 1856-September 23, 1939, born Sigismund Schlomo Freud, was an Austrian neurologist who become known as the founding father of psychoanalysis (psychotherapy).  Today is his deathday.  By mid-September 1939, Freud's cancer of the oral cavity was causing him increasingly severe pain.  It was inoperable.  On September 21 and 22 his doctor and friend, Max Schur administered doses of morphine that resulted in Freud's death on September 23, 1939.  Schur and Freud had a "contract" not to keep Freud alive when the time for death was near.

Three days after his death, Freud's body was cremated at the Golders Green Crematorium in North London. Ernest Jones gave the funeral oration to a gathering of friends, psychoanalysts and Austrian refugees, including the author Stefan Zweig. Freud's ashes were later placed in the crematorium's columbarium. They rest in an ancient Greek urn that Freud had received as a gift from Princess Bonaparte and which he had kept in his study in Vienna for many years. After his wife Martha died in 1951, her ashes were also placed in the urn.




Saturday, September 22, 2012

Dictators Gone Wild-Idi Amin Killed 300,000 Ugandans, Maybe More

Idi Amin, 1925-2003, was the military dictator of Uganda from 1971 to 1979.  His title:  "His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshal Alhaji Dr. Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, CBE (Conqueror of the British Empire)."  Amin lived in exile in Saudi Arabia until his death on August 16, 2003.  How?  The Saudi royal family allowed him sanctuary and paid him a generous subsidy.  Why?  Amin is buried in Ruwais Cemetery in Jeddah.  He was a polygamist.  He had 40 official children by seven official wives.

Friday, September 21, 2012

What Country/City Has The World's Highest Murder Rate?

Honduras has the world's highest murder rate (a homicide rate of 86 per 100,000 inhabitants).  Honduras has been experiencing record-high violence in recent years, most of it committed with guns.  Drugs and organized crime seem to be the main culprits.  The city with the world's highest murder rate is the capital of Honduras, Tegucigalpa, or simply Tegus. 2  people +  are murdered every day in Tegus, mostly men aged 15-39.  Most are poor.  The city now offers free coffins and funeral services for those murdered.  People do not leave their houses after dark.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Obliteration-Krakatoa/1863/36,000 Killed-Vesuvius/Pompeii/AD79/16000 Killed

Absolute, stunning obliteration!  Pompeii and its neighbor Herculaneum were eventually forgotten in time before being rediscovered in the 18th century.  Roughly 400 bodies have been found.  And about 1000 casts made from the impressions of bodies in the ash deposits have been recovered.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Wife's Love Letter To Slain Police Officer Brad Fox

R.I.P. Brad Fox.  Officer Fox was shot and killed by a bad guy last week.  He was killed the day before his 35th birthday.   His wife is pregnant.  And he and his wife have a 1 year-old daughter.  Fox was eulogized by his sister-in-law.  She read a love letter written by her sister, Mrs. Fox, for the eulogy:



On January 16, 2005, I was at The Madison with Shannon and you walked in and sat down next to her after watching the Eagles and Vikings game with all your buddies. Since we had already been there all day drinking, I remember looking at Shannon and telling her how cute you were, completely oblivious to the fact that you could hear every word that I was saying. You and I started talking, and without even knowing you, I let you take me home. 
On January 21, 2005, we had our first date at The Joseph Ambler Inn. We went back to my house for you to meet my parents and you asked to use the bathroom. Not knowing at that time how forgetful you were with putting your zipper up, you walked out to shake my Dad’s hand for the first time. Of course, still with the zipper down. I remember mentioning to you as we left to go meet your parents at The Madison, and you asked me, “Why on earth didn’t you say anything in the house?” I laughed and said, “Oh yeah, that would’ve looked real good, me saying that in front of my parents!”
That night when I got home, I sat down on my sister’s bed, with her and my Mom, and told them that I’d met the guy I knew I was going to marry.
As the weeks went on, you prepared me for the fact that you would be leaving for deployment to Iraq. We went to I-Hop for breakfast one morning and had a sincere talk. You said to me, “I know we haven’t been dating very long, but with me going overseas, I need to know whether you’re willing to make this commitment. If not, we need to end things now.” Without any hesitation, I was ready to be by your side 110 percent of the time throughout this deployment and do whatever I could to support you. 
When I sat down with my parents to tell them about the deployment, I remember my dad saying, “Are you sure you can do this? This is a really big commitment. I said, “I am ready and willing to be there every step of the way.” Without questioning my decision, my parents said that they would support me and be there every step of the way as well.
As my dad stood by my side while Brad boarded that bus, he held me as I cried. The respect and bond that my dad had for you started at that very moment. 
I wrote to you every day and waited by that phone. My boss knew that if that phone rang I was leaving to go talk to you, whether or not I had customers with me. I went through each and every day thinking about you, 24/7. I was afraid to watch the news, fearing I’d hear the worst. I spent every moment I could with your parents. Your mom and I would sit at The Madison and play military songs on the juke box and just cry thinking about you. I had amazing support, and just like now Brad, I was in good hands and taken care of, just like you would want.
On March 24, 2006, you were set to come home. From the night before until the minute you came home, we went through a million changes of plans with arrival times. Finally, around 9-o-clock, you walked off that bus into my arms. It was one of the best moments of my life. I finally got to hold you after nine long months. I tried to support you the best I could through this transition back to civilian life.
A year past and on March 24, 2007, we took a trip to Atlantic City with your parents. You were acting real funny that night. I couldn’t really understand what was going on.  We got back to the room and you sat next to me on the bed. You were never really known for your romantic ways which is one of the reasons I loved you so much because you let me know each and every day that you loved me with your actions without feeling the need to go over to the top. While sitting next to me on the bed, you pulled a ring out of your pocket, placed the box on my knee and said, “So, wanna marry me?”
Of course, through all the tears and laughter, I looked at you and said, “Of course!”
We shared the moment together for a while and then I had to call everyone I knew. From the moment I met you, I knew that if we got married, I wanted to honor your dream of having a military wedding. As we planned I wanted to make that aspect for you as special as possible. 
When we got home, we had the conversation of what you wanted to pursue as a career, now that you would be discharging from the Marines. You mentioned wanting to be a police officer and I could tell that this was a dream of yours. But you were never really one to be proactive with paperwork or contacting people, so I wanted to make your dream come true. I contacted Montgomery County Police Department, took care of all your paperwork, delivered it for you and hoped for the best. You went through the Academy, graduated at the top of your class and had many opportunities for jobs. I couldn’t have been more proud of you. I’ll never forget the day you came home after getting the phone call from Plymouth for a job interview. You were so excited and so nervous. You came home from your interview and I knew this was the department that you wanted to spend your career. Every interview offer that you got from that point on you ignored or declined because you didn’t want to be anywhere else other than Plymouth. 
I knew when you got the job that they had no idea how lucky they were to have you. They would soon find out that you would do everything in your power to prove to them that you were a dedicated officer that truly valued your community and your job and they would never regret their decision.
Your work ethic was admirable. There were days that I would try to convince you to take the day off and spend a day with me. “No, I need to go to work. I need to be there to get my perfect attendance check and I need to be there for my guys. I can’t screw anyone over.” As much as I wanted to spend time with you, I admired you for being so dedicated to your job and to your brothers. You always had everyone’s best interest at heart. 
You always knew how to put a smile on my face. You could be the most annoying human being at times, but you knew the perfect time, well the majority of times, to throw a joke in there or an inappropriate comment or action that would make me smack you and laugh.
I’ll never forget the time when we were living in our town home and I came home from work and asked if you knew that Rocco Caparella was in the hospital with colic. You looked at me with a straight face and asked, “Why on earth would they take him to the hospital because of a part in his hair?” Through the tears of laughter I looked at you and said, “Hon, you’re thinking of cowlick, not colic.”
A few months later, I wanted you to sit down with me as we picked out things for Lacy’s baby shower. While going through the list we came across a nose aspirator. And again, with a straight face, you looked at me and said, “We don’t’ need one. We have one in the drawer.” Confused, I looked at you blankly as you went into the kitchen and pulled out the turkey baster.”
Your cluelessness with children and accessories was worrisome at first, but I knew as naive as you were, when it came to kids, when it came time to have our own, you would be the most amazing father.
On June 21, 2008, we shared the most important day of our lives. It was just as important as I’d imagined from the time I was a little girl. Not because of the dress or the guests, but because I was making a commitment to the most perfect man – the man of my dreams – to be by your side and share in every good time and bad for the rest of our lives.
I couldn’t wait to start a family with you because I knew that even though you were worried about the kind of father you were going to be, there was never a doubt in my mind that you would be the best dad you could be because of the great role model you had to show you what a great father truly was.
I wanted to give you children more than anything. When we found out we were having Cadence, our world changed. We went from a young, married couple that enjoyed hanging out, carefree, to responsible adults that wanted to make a perfect life for our children. We were willing to do whatever it took to make that happen. We were content with just sitting at home, relaxing, watching our favorite shows. 
On April 13, 2012, we welcomed the most amazing baby girl into the world. You were so worried you wouldn’t know what to do, but you ran around that hospital like a kid at Christmas, so excited to share the news and pictures of your new baby girl. There have only been a handful of times in our eight years together that I have seen you cry, and this was one of those times. 
I knew that little girl had you wrapped around her finger from the moment you laid eyes on her. She is and will forever be, Daddy’s Little Girl. I will forever be reminded of you each time I look into her eyes, as our family sits her and jokes that our child looks nothing like me – she’s the spitting image of you. I look forward to the birth of our second child in March to see what characteristics of you shine through his or her little personality. 
You were and always will be an amazing provider and the rock of our household. You were always willing to do whatever it took to make sure your family was taken care of, especially lately with me being pregnant again. You would come off a 12-hour day, make dinner, clean up, take care of the baby, never once complaining. You’ve given me my dream home surrounded with the most amazing neighbors and friends. When we picked out our dream home we knew that this was our home forever as we joked that we would have to be buried in the backyard. 
I promise you that our forever home will remain our forever home and our children will be raised in it just as you would have wanted.  I know you’re looking down on us and seeing the overwhelming amount of support that we have. Each and every one of your police brothers knows the type of person you were and know that you would be taking care of their families just as they are taking care of yours. 
Please know I’m in good hands and I will make you proud each and every day of my life. I don’t have friends anymore; I have an extremely large extended family. I know you would be proud of your brother s for all they have been doing for you and for us right now. I know you hated being the center of attention and you’re looking down at me, embarrassed that all this focus is on you, but I don’t care. You deserve every ounce of the love and support that you are getting. 
You impacted more people than you’ll ever know. I couldn’t be more proud and honored to call you my husband. Your children will forever know the type of man you were. They will always know who their daddy is and how amazing you were as a husband, father, friend, son, brother, Marine and police officer.
You are one of the most selfless, loving, caring, heroic persons. And I’m sure the list could go on and on. 
I can’t’ even begin to put into words how much I appreciate you and how much you’ve accomplished not only as a husband but my best friend and the many other roles you play. I love you more than I can tell you, but I will continue to remind you every day that you are here and always will be my one and only. 
You’re a true hero, and I stand here today, honored, to have had the past eight years with you.  And I, and we all know, that your legacy will carry on through your children. 
I love you Brad.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Mugshot Obituary-An Obit Where Picture Of Deceased Was Mugshot



Thank you to Jay Leno for this.  No disrespect to this woman or her family but could they not have used a different picture in her obituary?

Marlene E. Collins
 Birth & Death Dates:
6/13/1944 - 6/7/2012
 collinsObituary:
Marlene E. Collins a life long resident of Westford passed away June 7, 2012 at Lowell General Hospital.

Marlene was born June 13, 1944 in London, England to the late Virgil and Nora Lawson as the oldest of eight siblings. She enjoyed playing bingo, music, dancing, and most of all spending time with her family, by whom she will be missed dearly







Monday, September 17, 2012

Bloodiest Day In American History-23,000 Casualties, 9/17/1862, 150th Anniversary

Bloody Antietam, 1862 - September 17, 1862 was the bloodiest single day in American history.  Confederate and Union armies suffered more than 23,000 casualties (killed, wounded and missing) on this day during the Battle of Antietam, outside of Sharpsburg, MD.  Today is the 150th anniversary.


Also noteworthy, today is the 225th anniversary (9/17/1787) of the adoption of the U.S. Constitution by the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia, PA.  It lays out the central principles for a democratic government and the rights its citizens can expect to enjoy.  It begins with "We the People."

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Mortality "Gates Of Heaven"-Pet Cemetery Film Classic

This film by Errol Morris has become an underground legend.  It deals with mortality and the afterlife, etc.   It is a documentary about the pet cemetery business.  People love their pets and take them seriously.   "Gates of Heaven" is hilarious, and touching.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Body Decomposition Lab Workshop? Corpse Breakdown Analysis. Crime Museum.

Rigor Mortis, Mummification, Liver Mortis, Skin Slippage, Insects Eat Cadavers, Death Gases.  Whoa!      What processes take place after a body becomes a corpse?:




Try This: The Crime Museum offers classes in decomposition

By Kris Coronado, Published: July 12

Warning: The scenes described in this piece are not for the queasy. Get grossed out by putrefying corpses? Stop reading here.
Otherwise, step into the basement of the Crime Museum, where Theo Kouts is spouting gruesome facts every few minutes.
“When you die, gases are released,” says the 24-year-old crime-scene-investigation educator. “Insects can actually sense them within minutes of death. Female flies will sense them almost immediately, and they will start going to the body, trying to lay eggs, breaking down the body.”
(I warned you. Put that sandwich down.)
Kouts is leading the museum’s Body Decomposition Lab. The 50-minute course details what processes take place after a person, well, becomes a corpse. Twenty-four students sit at folding tables in a glass-walled “classroom” that’s usually the set of “America’s Most Wanted.”
The lab is one of 10 the museum began offering to the public in mid-June. Launched in 2009 as an educational tool for students, the labs are now open to anyone who wants to attend. Courses range from forensic anthropology to a workshop on blood and DNA. Visitors may buy tickets ahead of time or (if they’re still available) snag them at the museum itself, as did Nancy Goodman of Ridgewood, N.J.
After watching real-life trials on tele­vision, the 61-year-old understands that forensic investigators’ jobs are far from easy. “It’s hard to analyze,” she says. “You realize sometimes they don’t know too much.”
She needn’t worry. Although Kouts touches on such familiar subjects as rigor mortis and mummification, it isn’t long before he begins explaining terms that are both befuddling and icky.
• Livor mortis: When the heart stops beating, capillaries and veins leak blood, which then pools and leaves patterns on the body based on the pull of gravity.
• Skin slippage: Oh, you guessed it. It’s when skin starts sliding off the body. Stomach churning yet?
After displaying images depicting such states on a flat-screen behind him, Kouts gives a discourse on what, when and how insects eat cadavers. He’s not trying to gross out the group but is explaining how forensic entomology (i.e. the study of insects in a legal application) helps investigators determine the general time of death based on the maturation of fly eggs, larvae and pupae found in or around the body.
Kouts directs everyone to the stapled case files he passed out at the beginning of the course, detailing a scenario of a couple found killed in a cabin. He hands out to each table a series of closed glass vials containing flies in different phases of life. The task is to determine the latest stage of insect development. Investigators then use this information — coupled with the body heat of the victim — to calculate a range for the time of death. “Don’t count the adult fly,” Kouts advises. “Remember, that could have been the first guy there.” After some multiplying and dividing, the class concludes that the fictional pair have been dead from five to eight hours.
With no further questions, the class is theoretically dismissed. As the rest of the participants head out to explore the museum, 22-year-old University of Maryland grad student Katie Reid offers up her thoughts on the lab: “I think it’s interesting to understand how the decomposition of bodies not only tells the story of death,” she says, “but it also tells the story of life.”

Thank you Washington Post

Friday, September 14, 2012

Death Panels Falsehoods- Remember Those ?

Obstructionists and cold-hearted critics touted the falsehood of death panels when the Patient Protectin and Affordable Care Act was first announced in 2009.  The death panels idea was indeed a myth and not true.  It was a lie and a whopper of a lie at that.  Time passes, things happen, we move on and forget the past.  We often are consumed by our current day to day responsibilities, unfortunately.  Sarah Palin, among others, was a shrill proponent of the idea of bureaucratic death panels.  Shame on her!!

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Zombie Mud Run-Run For Your Lives-Shocktoberfest

This is real.  Check it out:

http://runforyourlives.com/  




And while you're there check out the Apocalypse Party.


You might also want to look at Shocktoberfest (www.shocktoberfest.com):  See the Prison of the Dead, Ghouls Gone Wild, Zombie Revenge Haunted Hayride

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

When Will Religious Killing Madness Stop?!

R.I.P. US ambassador to Libya J. Christopher Stevens and the three other American diplomats killed Tuesday in a rocket attack on the American consulate in Benghazi, Libya.


Stevens, a long-time Middle East hand in the State Department, was also the American envoy to the Libyan rebel movement, that overthrew Muammar Gaddafi last year, based in the rebel capital of Benghazi.
A speaker of Arabic and French, he was among the first American diplomats sent to Libya in 2007 when the US resumed ties with the Gaddafi regime.
More deaths in the name of God!

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

9/11-Kids Made/Make A Difference-Poem "I Hold In My Hands"-Remember


               I Hold in My Hands

I hold in my hands ...
The dust.
The dust and wreckage of the towers.
Even though I wasn't there,
I can still feel it.
It has damaged my hands with dirt.
It has damaged my heart with sorrow.
It has damaged my body with fear,
and it has damaged my life with war.

I hold in my hands ...
My life.
My life could soon be filled with war,
cruelty at its worst.
Miles away, I can hear the planes' roaring engines, gliding through the air.

I hold in my hands ...
My future.
My life ahead.
Whether it will be filled with war or peace, we will not know.
My future keeps me going from dawn to dusk.

I hold in my hands ...
Hope.
Hope for the future.
Hope for peace.
Hope for my country's freedom.
And hope for America to win this war on terrorism.
Publisher :- Aaron Walsh

Aaron Walsh was in the sixth grade and wrote this on 9/11/2001.





news.cincinnati.com

September 6, 2011
Sixth-grader's 9/11 poem leads to unexpected bond

By Cliff Radel
cradel@enquirer.com

She was an off-duty flight attendant from Oakley out for an evening stroll in Paris.
He was a school kid in Delhi Township, a sixth-grader stuck in his morning social studies class.
Then the planes slammed into the twin towers. And the world changed forever.
The events of 9/11 eventually linked the lives of the flight attendant, Tanya Hoggard, and the student, Aaron Walsh. The tragedy showed them that one person can make a difference in helping good triumph over evil. And they decided, unbeknownst to each other, to spread the word.
A month after the attacks, Walsh wrote a poem in his school notebook. Hoping to make sense of that horrible day in history, he began with the words:
I hold in my hands ...
The dust.
The dust and wreckage of the towers.
Even though I wasn't there,
I can still feel it.
It has damaged my hands with dirt.
It has damaged my heart with sorrow.
It has damaged my body with fear,
and it has damaged my life with war.
The poem wound up going around the world. That happened after it landed in Hoggard's hands.
Thanks to her, Walsh's work came to rest in the collection of the National September 11 Memorial & Museum. The memorial, located in the footprints of the World Trade Center, opens Sunday. The museum opens in 2012 on the 11th anniversary of 9/11.
As Walsh wrote his poem in a Delhi Middle School classroom, Hoggard stood under a tent at Ground Zero. She was a volunteer on the chow line. She would fly to New York on her off-days - using 30 of them in three months - to serve meals to the workers sifting through the rubble.
"I didn't go because of my job," she said, "or because flight attendants were killed on 9/11. I went because my job enabled me to go. I could fly in and out for free on the same day and help out."
She set out just to feed firefighters performing the grim task of searching for body parts of lost brothers and sisters. By chance, she wound up rescuing - and donating to the 9/11 museum - 3½ tons of thank-you notes and sympathy cards. They came to Ground Zero and New York's firehouses from children around the world. Most of the messages began with:
"Dear Hero."
"Those notes helped the healing process at Ground Zero," Hoggard said. "The faces of the workers brightened when they read those messages. They would smile. Then they would go out the door to look for more remains.
"They didn't wear masks," she added. "I asked one guy why. He said: 'You can't find somebody if you can't smell them.'
"That's when I got it," she added. "They wanted to find their friends. They wanted to make a difference. So did I."
She sat on her sofa and looked across at Walsh. Ten years later, she's still a flight attendant. He's gone from the sixth grade to his senior year at Miami University. The flight attendant and the zoology major met recently to reminisce and go over their plans to participate in Sunday's program at the Cincinnati Museum Center at Union Terminal.
She will talk about her "Dear Hero" collection. He will conclude the program by reading his poem.
They talked about where they were that September day in 2001 when the world changed. Hoggard was going for a walk in Paris "when a Delta pilot came running up and said: 'Our country is under attack!' "
Walsh came into social studies class that morning and saw the TV on, "which was rare. We saw one of the towers go down."
At the end of the recollections, a stillness filled the room. Walsh broke the silence.
"I have so much gratitude for Tanya," he said. Clutching his sixth-grade composition book, he used his thumb to mark the place of his pencil-written poem.
"She actually made a difference. I'm just a very small part of this story."
She frowned and shook her head. He ignored her.
"I still can't wrap my head around this," he said. "Something from a little notebook, written on the West Side of Cincinnati, made it to a museum in New York City."
Hoggard leaned forward. Quickly apologizing for interrupting - she's very impulsive - she let loose with a burst of enthusiasm as she explained her post 9/11 actions.
"The messages I collected, Aaron's poem included," she said, "let kids know they made a difference. And if you do that with kids, they will keep trying to do good. They will learn that random acts of kindness don't go unnoticed."
A random act helped Hoggard. She was several months into her rescue efforts. Fatigue had set in. She recalled how the whole thing began.
She had just struck up a conversation with a New York firefighter at Ground Zero. He was admiring the "Dear Hero" letters she had pinned to the walls of the mess tent. She told him about the buckets of cards and letters that had found their way to the tent just by bearing the simple address: Ground Zero.
He told her: You think you've got lots of mail, lady? There's so much at the firehouses some of it will have to go to a landfill.
"You can't throw it away," she declared. "This means too much to too many people."
The firefighter agreed. He took her to the city's firehouses. She saw towers of mail stacked in galvanized tubs next to fire trucks.
She convinced the firefighters that she take it for safe-keeping.
She began collecting pieces of mail by the ton. These weren't just cards and letters. They were "pieces of history. They had to be saved."
And that's how an indefatigable flight attendant from Cincinnati came to amass 3½ tons of "Dear Hero" notes.
She did it on her own time. And her own dime. Hoggard did not collect a penny for amassing the collection or donating it to the 9/11 museum. She did find "over $20,000 in the envelopes that the notes came in. I donated that to New York City's firefighters union."
To the mourning firefighters, her mission was a blessing. She once overheard a first-responder say of her: "I don't know who she is or where she came from. All I know is she comes here and she takes the stuff and she's going to save it."
But one day she needed saving. The physical and emotional enormity of her self-appointed task left her feeling overwhelmed.
Help came in an e-mail from a friend. She told Hoggard she would feel better if she read the attached poem.
Hoggard's friend got the poem from a pal, Sara Walsh, who was playing the part of the proud aunt. The poem was written by Walsh's nephew - none other than Aaron Walsh.
Hoggard read and re-read the poem. Every time she reached the last stanza, she found more strength to carry on:
"I hold in my hands..
Hope.
Hope for the future.
Hope for peace.
Hope for my country's freedom.
And hope for America to win this war on terrorism."
She expressed surprise that the poem was written by a sixth-grader.
"I was amazed at all of this maturity spewing from the head of a kid who was only 11," Hoggard said.
Walsh smiled.
She turned to the college student.
"Ten years later, I still read your poem to get inspired," she told him.
"A copy is in my work bag right now," she added.
"I give it to passengers who need a boost. I don't tell people what I've done. I just tell them the story about how those little kids made a difference at Ground Zero.
"Then I pull out the poem."

Monday, September 10, 2012

Mary Oliver Death Poem-Love What Is Mortal, Let It Go


In Blackwater Woods

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Post Death Have You Put Your Online Accounts/Passwords In Order?


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Are all your electronic affairs in order?

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As Lake Forest, Ill., economist Mike Moebs planned for his marriage last year, his lawyer pressed him for a complete list of assets.The frequent-flier miles detailed in his online travel records didn't even cross Moebs' mind until his attorney recognized their value.
"We gave a lot of thought to the things that I own," said Moebs, chief executive of Moebs Services Inc., an economic-research firm. "I've flown, just on American Airlines, more than three million miles, and I have half a million miles I haven't used."
To prepare for the worst, he also has created an inventory of user names, passwords, and answers to security questions for more than 50 accounts, including online bank and investment records, and billing setups for credit cards and phone bills. His family and close business colleagues can access them if he dies or is incapacitated.
Family heirlooms and records aren't what they used to be. Everything from photos and music to financial statements and tax documents are increasingly likely to be created, stored, or accessed via computers, mobile phones, or other devices.
"I'm revamping my personal and business trusts to include all digital assets and what I want done with them," Moebs said.
He appears to be far ahead of the curve. Estate planners, lawyers, and surveys indicate few people have begun revising their family and estate plans to keep pace with the new reality of digital assets and online accounts.
In a recent survey by the BMO Retirement Institute, more than half of survey respondents 45 and older with digital property believe it's very or somewhat important to make plans for their personal and financial online assets, yet 57 percent have not made such provisions.
Overwhelmingly, the two most common answers given for not doing so were, "Didn't think of it," and, "I don't think it's necessary."
Chicago lawyer Richard Magnone suggests, "People don't think of digital assets in the same way as tangible assets."
Yet not accounting for passwords and other online records could leave loved ones or business associates unable to access accounts promptly, keep finances current, or continue to run a business. And unless provisions are made, e-mail providers might deny family members access to the deceased's accounts.
Take Yahoo's terms of service, found under a link on its home page. It refers to "no right of survivorship and non-transferability."
Digital-asset case law is scant, but in one of the earliest legal fights over such property, a Michigan court ordered Yahoo to turn over the contents of Justin Ellsworth's account in 2005 after the Marine was killed in action and his family sought access to his e-mail.
Several states have passed laws addressing various digital concerns, but the legislation varies greatly. As a result, the National Conference of Commissioners on Uniform State Laws has a committee drafting recommendations for state legislatures concerning a fiduciary's rights to manage and distribute, copy or delete, and access digital assets.
A fiduciary administering an estate or the affairs of an incapacitated individual needs to be able to find, access, value, protect, and transfer the individual's online accounts and digital property, the commission said.
In 2007, Indiana declared that electronic documents are to be considered estate property. The law requires anyone who electronically stores the documents or information of another person who dies to give the representative of that person's estate access to or copies of the data.
The Indiana law prohibits custodians from destroying or disposing of the documents or information of a deceased person for two years after receiving a court order or a request for access to the electronically stored documents or information from a representative of the estate.
Gerry Beyer, a Texas Tech University law professor who writes about estate-planning issues, said that even if a person gives power of attorney to an agent to access digital assets, that doesn't mean a bank, social-media site, or e-mail service will accept that authority. It might take a court-appointed guardian to get access to the records, he said, because an agent's authority typically ends when a person dies.
Moebs traces his transition to digital to 2003, after his house sustained major flood damage and century-old family photos were destroyed.
"This is never going to happen again," he promised.
Since then, he has digitized many photographs and a record collection that includes a 78-r.p.m. by Enrico Caruso inherited from his father and Janis Joplin's Pearl.
He said his wife and key colleagues at his 10-employee business know how to get access to his Outlook account in case of an emergency. His two "right-hand" employees and his wife have the information they need to access digital assets, pay suppliers, and contact customers.
"The three of them need each other if something should happen to me," he said. "Valerie would own the digital assets of the business, and my two employees would be able to use the information off the digitized assets, mainly the data" needed to continue running the business.
 
 
 
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