It's Been A Privilege

See, they said they were closing this hospital. It’s in a bad neighborhood south of Chicago. It’s losing a lot of money. They tried to give it away and nobody wanted to buy it. So they were closing it. The only sensible thing to do.

So a guy I know owns a company that does outplacement work. He scored a contract to provide outplacement services to the 1,400 people who were supposed to be out of work when this hospital closed. He wanted me to help the people there find work. I got the job, and got to work with a lot of people who’d never worked anywhere else.

There were people who did not ever have a resume. They went from Eisenhower High School to this hospital because they had an aunt who worked at the hospital. So they started working here cleaning or delivering supplies or whatever, and now they are a buyer in the purchasing department, and all of a sudden it’s not 1965 any more. They live two blocks from the hospital and never wanted or needed anything else. Their husband is on disability and they do not have other health insurance or income. They don’t want public aid or charity. They work for a living.

And this morning I met a lively, assertive red-haired lady who is a med tech in their microbiology lab. She’d worked here her whole career. And we talked a while. She has a particularly aggressive form of cancer. She required treatment. Even the relatively outstanding health insurance provided here would not cover the cost of her chemotherapy treatments.

She was very proud of the fact that her son plays drums for the music group “Kansas.” We went to the band’s website and looked at pictures of her red-haired son performing. Having a wonderful time.

The band’s website had a section about fundraising. She told me that the band agreed to stage a series of benefit concerts to raise money for her cancer treatments. So the band played, raised money, and paid for her chemotherapy and radiation, which was really expensive. She's cancer free for now.

Here are the lyrics to one of the band’s biggest hits…emphasis added.

“I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone.
all my dreams, pass before my eyes a curiosity.
dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.”

“Same old song, just a drop of water in the endless sea.
all we do, crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see.
dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.”

“Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.
It slips away, And all your money won't another minute buy.”

“Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind…
dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.”

I am so glad I was here to work with these people. Like Tom Hanks said in “Apollo 13,” “Gentlemen, it’s been a privilege flying with you.”

Garage Sale

One of the universities I teach weekend classes for, Central Michigan University, sent me to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas to teach this weekend. Fort Leavenworth is a large army base, specializing in training Special Forces personnel. It is sandwiched between the well-known federal penitentiary and the Missouri river which divides Kansas from Missouri. It’s a small class. About half of my students are Special Forces veterans. One returned from deployment due to a disabling injury and is glad to have the chance to complete a master’s degree on the G.I. bill. Two or more of my students who are in Special Forces have killed enemy combatants at close range; at least one in hand-to-hand combat.

Friday night my students warned me that it would take a long time to get onto the base Saturday morning, because of the garage sale.

Garage sale?

“Yeah. Twice a year Fort Leavenworth hosts a garage sale. Active duty members whose families are housed on base can sell all their stuff. It’s better than having to move or store it when they vacate base housing.”

Vacate base housing?

“Sure. Families cannot stay in post housing when the service member is deployed. They have to move off post and find somewhere else to stay.”

So people have to sell their stuff?

“They don’t have to. It’s just easier. And the great thing is, civilians come in from all over – they drive up from St. Louis, Kansas City, all over. A lot of bargains. The place is packed.”

Boy, was it. They started lining up to get on post at 6:00 a.m. It took me almost an hour to get through the main gate. Traffic was backed up for way over a mile, past the penitentiary. And everybody had their stuff out. A lot of clothing. A lot of toys. A lot of appliances – TVs, game consoles, microwaves, couches, beds, tables, dressers.


Home after home, apartment after apartment, stacked high with stuff. American consumer goods, stacked high and ready to move.

Civilians would offer half of asking prices. Military widows-to-be would say, no, but come back after 2:00; I’ll give it to you for half-off if it hasn’t sold by then.

The place, for one day, looked like a Simpsons version of a refugee camp. And the thing that was amazing about it was how thankful and cheerful everybody was.

Yeah, I am selling everything we own and moving off post.

Yeah, daddy’s going to Afghanistan or Iraq and may not come back, and we have to move off post, and we’re selling everything we own, but it’s OK, because this is what we do.

This is what we do.

It was a good day. Students told me that they sold everything, and got five hundred bucks for it. It will be a party Saturday night.

So goddam cheerful.

Thank God for the kind of people we have serving in our armed forces. No bitching, no complaining, just duty first, like they say in the Big Red One. It’s a privilege to help educate them. So we talked about the Bonus Army…

The Bonus Army

The Bonus Army or Bonus March or Bonus Expeditionary Force was an assemblage of about 17,000 World War I veterans, accompanied by their families and other affiliated groups, who demonstrated in Washington, DC, during the spring and summer of 1932.

The marchers were seeking immediate cash payment of Service Certificates granted eight years previously by the Adjusted Service Certificate Law of 1924. Each Service Certificate issued to a qualified soldier bore a face value equal to the soldier's promised payment plus interest. The sticking point was that the certificates, similar to bonds, were set to mature a full 20 years from the date of their original issue. Thus, under existing law, the certificates could not be redeemed until 1945.

The Bonus Army veterans were led by Walter W. Waters, a former Army sergeant, and were encouraged in their demand for immediate monetary payment by an appearance from retired Marine Corps Major General Smedley Butler, one of the most popular military figures of the time.

Arrival in Washington

The Bonus Army massed at the United States Capitol on June 17 as the U.S. Senate voted on the Patman Bonus Bill, which would have moved forward the date when World War I veterans received a cash bonus. Most of the Bonus Army camped in a Hooverville on the Anacostia Flats, then a swampy, muddy area across the Anacostia River from the federal core of Washington. The protesters had hoped that they could convince Congress to make payments that would be granted to veterans immediately, which would have provided relief for the marchers who were unemployed due to the Depression. The bill had passed the House of Representatives on June 15 but was blocked in the Senate.

Intervention of the military
The marchers were cleared and their camps were destroyed by the 12th Infantry Regiment from Fort Howard, Maryland, and the 3rd Cavalry Regiment under the command of Major George S. Patton from Fort Myer, Virginia, under the overall command of General Douglas MacArthur. The Posse Comitatus Act, prohibiting the U.S. military from being used for general law enforcement purposes in most instances, did not apply to Washington, DC, because it is one of several pieces of federal property under the direct governance of the U.S. Congress (United States Constitution, Article I. Section 8. Clause 17).

Dwight D. Eisenhower, as a member of MacArthur's staff, had strong reservations about the operation.

Troops carrying rifles with unsheathed bayonets and tear gas were sent into the Bonus Army's camps. President Hoover did not want the army to march across the Anacostia River into the protesters' largest encampment, but Douglas MacArthur felt this was a communist attempt to overthrow the government. Hundreds of veterans were injured, several were killed, including William Hushka and Eric Carlson; a wife of a veteran miscarried, and other casualties were inflicted. The visual image of U.S. armed soldiers confronting poor veterans of the recent Great War set the stage for Veteran relief and eventually the Veterans Administration.

By the end of the rout:
Two veterans were shot and killed.
Two infants died from tear gas asphyxiation.
An 11 week old baby was in critical condition resulting from shock due to tear gas exposure.
An 11 year old boy, David Barscheski was partially blinded by tear gas.
One bystander was shot in the shoulder.
One veteran, Christopher Bilger, had his ear severed by a Cavalry saber.
One veteran was stabbed in the hip with a bayonet.
At least twelve police were injured by the veterans.
Over 1,000 men, women, and children were exposed to the tear gas, including police, reporters, residents of Washington D.C., and ambulance drivers.
Although the public states the army burned down their camp, the bonus marchers burned their own camp. The army had helped set up the tents, shacks, and other dwellings. Reports of U.S. soldiers marching against their peers did not help Hoover's re-election efforts; neither did his open opposition to the Bonus Bill due to financial concerns. He now had no support at all. After the inauguration of Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933, some of the Bonus Army regrouped in Washington to restate its claims to the new President.

Aftermath

Franklin D. Roosevelt did not want to pay the bonus early, either, but handled the veterans with more skill when they marched on Washington again the next year. He sent his wife Eleanor to chat with the vets and pour coffee with them, and she persuaded many of them to sign up for jobs making a roadway to the Florida Keys, which was to become the Overseas Highway, the southernmost portion of U.S. Route 1. On September 2, the disastrous Labor Day Hurricane of 1935 killed 258 veterans working on the Highway. After seeing more newsreels of veterans giving their lives for a government that had taken them for granted, public sentiment built up so much that Congress could no longer afford to ignore it in an election year (1936).

Roosevelt's veto was overridden, making the bonus a reality.

Perhaps the Bonus Army's greatest accomplishment was the piece of legislation known as the G. I. Bill of Rights. Passed in July, 1944, it immensely helped veterans from the Second World War to secure needed assistance from the federal government to help them fit back into civilian life, something the World War I veterans of the Bonus Army had not received.

The Bonus Army's activities can also be seen as a template for the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom in 1963, and popular political demonstrations and activism that took place in the U.S. later in the 20th century.

Homesick for Kingsport

I've now been away from home since Easter, and wondered why. Now I know..

On September 12, 1916, Kingsport residents demanded the death of circus elephant Mary (a five ton Asian elephant who performed in the Sparks World Famous Shows Circus) for her killing of a city hotel worker named Walter "Red" Eldridge, who was hired the day before as an assistant elephant trainer by the circus.

On the evening of September 12, Eldridge was killed by Mary in Kingsport, Tennessee while taking her to a nearby pond to splash and frolic and drink. There are several accounts of his death but the most widely accepted version is that he prodded her behind the ear with a hook after she reached down to nibble on a watermelon rind. She went into a rage, snatched Eldridge with her trunk, threw him against a drink stand and deliberately stepped on his head, crushing it. One of his ears was never found.

The details of the aftermath are confused in a haze of sensationalist newspaper stories and folklore. Most accounts indicate that she calmed down afterward and didn't charge the onlookers, who were chanting, "Kill the elephant!" Apparently, within minutes, a local blacksmith tried to oblige, firing more than two dozen rounds at the elephant with little effect.

Newspapers published claims that Murderous Mary had killed several workers in the past and noted that she was larger than the world famous Jumbo the elephant. Mary was impounded by the local sheriff, and the leaders of several nearby towns threatened not to allow the circus to visit if Mary was included.

The circus owner, Charlie Sparks, reluctantly decided that the only way to quickly resolve the potentially ruinous situation was to hold a public execution.

On the following day, a foggy and rainy September 13, 1916, she was transported by rail to Erwin, Tennessee where a crowd of over 2,500 people (including most of the town's children) assembled in the Clinchfield railroad yard to watch the hanging.

The Sopranos Ending Debate Rages On...

The Sopranos ending is not ambiguous, April 2, 2008

By Suzanne Kafantaris

Look, I cringe whenever I see the "ambiguous ending" argument, and I've got to say something about it. The ending was not ambiguous. It was definitive. There are masses of eerie evidence throughout the entire body of the show in support of its definitiveness.

For example: In season 2 or 3, when Christopher dies for a minute and goes to Hell, he comes back with a message for Tony and Paulie. That message is: "Three O'Clock." This doesn't refer to a time of day; it refers to a position relative to Tony's (and probably Paulie's) body.

In the last few minutes of the final episode, look at where Tony is sitting in the diner. Look at where the mysterious guy in the Members Only jacket (clue!) would be coming from, relative to Tony's body, when he emerges from the men's room (clue! from The Godfather!). He'd be at "Three O'Clock", relative to Tony's body.

Why does the camera spend so much time on this Members Only guy, on getting him into the bathroom right across from Tony, if he's just some random, unimportant extra?

The mural on the wall behind Tony foreshadows and prefigures everything that happens after the screen goes to black. Go back and watch the scene on your DVD, and pause it at shot of that mural. Take a good look. There's a furious burst of orange from a tiger (clue! from The Godfather! Orange is the color of death; cats are a bad omen). Beside the tiger panel is a panel of a football player, leaning to the left, with an orange tinge on his helmet (who else was a football player? Tony). There's a panel of a building that looks a bit like the Roman Forum (where Caesar was betrayed!), and a bit like the nursing home where Tony's mother plotted to betray him. Think about which member of Tony's "Family" is still alive and intact at the end, and ask yourself who the betrayer might be, for a horrifying little coda. And finally there's a smaller football player in the last panel (A.J.?) There are strange, seemingly random splashes of red color on the sleeves of some of the diners -- scan through the last few minutes and ask yourself what's going on with that. None of this is an accident -- every prop, position and angle of that last shot was carefully planned in minute detail. It's all right there, people. Everything that happens *after* the camera cuts to black is chillingly prefigured, in the mural and on the clothing of the diners. And it's a horrifying thing to go back and look at -- more resonant and frightening than the ickiest cinematic blood and gore.

And as far as foreshadowing goes: Look at what happens to Phil Leotardo as he is waving "bye bye" to his grandchildren. Look at the opening scene of the final episode -- Tony on his back in a coffin-like bed, organ music playing on the radio. That's not an accident.

That's not all. Why does the camera cut with such intensity back and forth between the seemingly mundane scenes of Tony, Carmella and A.J. eating onion rings in the diner, and the seemingly mundane scenes of Meadow repeatedly trying and failing to park her car? Why is there such intensity in the filming as she runs across the street and opens the door to the diner? What reason could there be for the way those scenes are filmed, except this: if Meadow had arrived just a few seconds earlier, she would be sitting beside her father, in the three o'clock position, protecting him from whatever is coming out of the men's room.

People, please! Let's give David Chase the credit he deserves for truly chilling and original film-making. That ending is not ambiguous.

Post a comment

Jeffrey A. Lunt says:
Interesting observations.... I think you may be on to something.

Posted on April 13, 2008 9:05 AM PDT

Rygar says:
There is a 3 O'Clock reference in Scarface

Tony Montana kills Frank and the detective on his payroll, when he walks in the room, the clock in the background says "3:00"


Your post: April 18, 2008 7:16 PM PDT

John P Bernat says:
But wait - there is even more evidence...

Orange is the color of the University of Tennessee football team.
Orange is also the color of Tony the Tiger from Sugar Frosted Flakes.
Oklahoma State University's Big Orange Bus is a shuttle service between the Stillwater and Tulsa campuses.
Big Orange Productions is a talent management agency which represents Gulden's zesty honey mustard, which might have been what the Soprano family put on the onion rings.
Big Orange Butyl Floor Cleaner, which is manufactured by Zep and shown inside the diner's men's room, is a non-caustic, orange granulated powder formulated for cleaning finished and unfinished concrete floors. It's no coincidence that this cleaner's anti-redepositing agents keep dirt and grime suspended for easy rinsing.
What could be more obvious??
Wake up, people!