Anniversaries – S'amusing

What Was The Weather?

In this very evening, December 25, 1776, George Washington led his somewhat ragtag band of soldiers across the Delaware River and surprised the Hessian mercenaries, beating them soundly at the Battle of Trenton for one of the earliest victories in the war for independence.

“The weather when George Washington crossed the Delaware River in 1776 was horrible, with temperatures ranging from the 20s to just above freezing, about 33 degrees, and a strong wind from the northeast making it much colder for the men. A blinding snowstorm and sleet also made the conditions almost impossible.”**

It’s been chronicled that many soldiers of the Continental Army that night were without boots or their feet were wrapped in straw, whatever was available. When I think of them, I’m both awed and grateful for their fortitude, bravery and the leadership of General Washington.

**americanhistorycentral.com

Steve

December 2024

Listen My Children…1775

‘Listen my children and you shall hear…of the midnight ride of Paul Revere…T’was the 18th of April, ’75…’ (H. W. Longfellow)

A little bit of US history as memorialized in Longfellow’ long poem, The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.

My 5th grade teacher, Miss Meehan, wrote several stanzas on the blackboard (remember those?) and had each student write them, ourselves, then memorize them.

I’ve never forgotten those stanzas and am reminded of the history and Miss Meehan every April 18th, today. It’s important to remember our history and important people in our lives. Miss Meehan was a good teacher and that period in US history was, well, what can I say.

It’s also important to understand our past, as a country and an individual, so we can learn and make in-course corrections as we continue to grow.

Paul Revere wasn’t the only rider that night and the British grabbed him before he got carried away with his warnings to the public. However, HWL chose to use him in his narrative and now his name is synonymous with revolution and liberty.

I hope you find the poem to read, yourself. And, as I like to do, read it aloud. It seems to resonate better with me when I do.

Remember history, and the teachers who made it come alive for you.

Steve

Birthdays Are ‘Big Deals’

July 4th was a ‘big deal’ day in the USA earlier this week when our country celebrated another birthday as an independent nation. With parades, picnics, backyard cookouts and traditional evening fireworks, Americans paid tribute to our homeland, a really ‘big deal’.

Birthdays are like that, aren’t they. To each of us, a birthday is a very ‘big deal’.

In early May, the streets were empty as I drove to a local Burger King restaurant for their $0.89 pancake special. It was a Sunday, my birthday, and the early rising sun was like a giant candle on an over sized cake, as I imagined it. This was my ‘big deal’ day.

Do you think of birthdays as ‘big deals’? Birthdays, like anniversaries, are rare, hence, ‘big deals’. And the longer you’re around, the bigger the deal. For me, birthdays are really big deals, I’ve been around a while. Of course, it’s a bigger deal for my older sister and I remind her of that every year, it’s what little brothers do.

Certain occasions are meant to be celebrated with gusto, such as birthdays and anniversaries. They’re high points in our personal timelines, reminding us of those significant accomplishments of making something last, a rare feat today.

Some among us like to keep these days private, quiet affairs. Balderdash, I say! Announce it to anyone and everyone. Accept the kudos and applause, you’ve earned it. Revel in the handshakes and pats on the back. Smile broadly when someone ‘lies’ and tells you that you can’t be ‘that’ old, or that your spouse ‘robbed the cradle’. Consider those compliments as gifts that help make your day the ‘big deal’ it should be.

On your birthday, announce proudly that you’ve moved the bar a bit higher, like an athlete achieving a personal best. I’m almost two months along to a new ‘PB’, and I’ll let my world know when it happens. Everything that is good that day will be in my honor because it’s my birthday, and that’s a ‘big deal’. That’s how I see it. I hope you feel the same about your birthday!

Incidentally, Starbucks thinks my birthday was a big deal, they gave me a free coffee!

Steve
srbottch.com (July 2017)

My Mother was Catholic, My Father was Handsome…a Love Story

My mother was Catholic, my father was…handsome. The daughter of poor immigrants, and poorly educated, herself, this young girl of Irish/Italian heritage was looking for a better future. My father, too, was of immigrant parents, hard working, middle class, and Protestant.

She wanted the love that an abusive father never showed her, and he, this dashing young tradesman, would give her that, and more. Still, she was Catholic and, well, he was a pool shooter.

Living in a flat above the pool hall he frequented, evenings would often find her purposefully loitering on the building steps, easy prey for his roving eyes. Love finds a way…

Barely 19 and in a ‘family way’, she married him, probably to the chagrin of the family patriarch, and the local priest. After all, she was a Catholic girl and he…well, he was careless and cavalier.

In all likelihood, he was careless more than once, as six more children were added to the family tree, five in rapid succession before a brief respite. then my sister and me. She was very Catholic.

Life was challenging for a young wife with a bevy of small children and an ‘old school’ husband who set the rules and expectations in a firm manner. Yet, for all the hardships endured, she worshipped him, depended on him for her well-being and her place in a middle class America. Besides, what were her options?

Their marriage endured, and only strengthened with time. My mother loved my father dearly and he relished his role as a strong family provider and leader. He was doing what was expected of him, then.

It was joyful, watching their love grow, an affair lasting 50 years. Life’s tough challenges were met and now behind them, and they basked in the comfort of their companionship, each one knowing the other’s pleasures.

And then, it ended. One morning, he kissed her goodbye, twice, went to work and didn’t come home. 76 years old. To the end, the handsome pool player fulfilled his vow to love and cherish, protect and provide.

The Catholic girl survived another twenty years, still in love with the same man but now adding God in her daily thoughts. After all, she was Catholic, and He…well, He was her Savior.

srbottch

Dedicated to my wonderful parents