The PPP #73, A Soldier's Return
After 81 years, a soldier comes home to Bloomington
Happy Phriday
Yesterday I was sitting in my office and reading this post about a soldier from WWII whose remains had been identified last year, 81 years after he was reported missing in action.
On the post was a map of the route the hearse would take from Midway airport in Chicago to bring the remains back to Bloomington. I noted the time that Veterans parkway would be closed to allow the procession to pass. Expect delays.
I decided I would walk the block over to Veterans and see if I could catch it. I was more that surprised at how many people had already parked their cars in the various parking lots along Veterans and were standing at the road side. Some of these people were old and needed assistance to walk up the hillside to the road.
Before Veterans was completely closed, many in cars driving past yelled at me standing there on the side of the street, “Hey, what’s going on?”
I yelled back, “The WWII soldier is coming home.” Some of these cars pulled over and parked.
I felt honored to have see this. I felt proud to be an American and proud of our community. I got a little weepy eyed thinking of my uncles and my father all who had served in WWII and Korea. And that our country has yet forgotten how to honor them.
Sammie’s Journal:
After 81 years, Robert Lee Bryant’s remains were identified by the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency in September 2024. Yesterday his remains came home.
I am proud of our community here in Bloomington/Normal. Here is the video I shot.
Godspeed solider.
Quotes I am Considering
My buddy Mike Friday sent me this too.
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Mike Friday’s Funnies: Smells
Which German city smells the nicest? Cologne. Me: *petting a dog* Aww! He probably smells my dog! Police officer: He's been trained to only react to the smell of drugs. Me: *sigh* Yeah... my dog has a real problem. 4 million of these people enter our country every year. They are uneducated, unskilled, and contribute nothing. They are a burden to honest, hardworking Americans and our government is doing nothing to stop them, not to mention they're often dirty and smell bad. THEY DON'T EVEN SPEAK ENGLISH!! Man, I hate babies. A drunk man who smelled like alcohol sat down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes the man turned to the priest and asked, "Say, Father, what causes arthritis?" "My Son, it's caused by loose living, too much alcohol, and a contempt for your fellow man." "Well, I'll be," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper. The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?" "I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does". It was a particularly tough football game, and nerves were on edge. The home team had been the victim of three or four close calls, and they were now trailing the visitors by a touch-down and a field goal. When the official called yet another close one in the visitors' favor, the home quarterback blew his top. How many times can you do this to us in a single game? " he screamed. "You were wrong on the out-of-bounds, you were wrong on that last first down, and you missed an illegal tackle in the first quarter. " The official just stared. The quarterback seethed, but he suppressed the language that might get him tossed from the game. "What it comes down to," he bellowed, "is that you STINK! " The official stared a few more seconds. Then he bent down, picked up the ball, paced off 15 yards, and put the ball down. He turned to face the steaming quarterback. The official finally replied, "And how do I smell from here? " This blonde decides one day that she is sick and tired of all these blonde jokes and how all blondes are perceived as stupid, so she decides to show her husband that blondes really are smart. While her husband is off at work, she decides that she is going to paint a couple of rooms in the house. The next day, right after her husband leaves for work, she gets down to the task at hand. Her husband arrives home at 5:30 and smells the distinctive smell of paint. He walks into the living room and finds his wife lying on the floor in a pool of sweat. He notices that she is wearing a ski jacket and a fur coat at the same time. He goes over and asks her if she is OK. She replies yes. He asks what she is doing. She replies that she wanted to prove to him that not all blonde women are dumb and she wanted to do it by painting the house. He then asks her why she has a ski jacket over her fur coat. She replies that she was reading the directions on the paint can and they said... FOR BEST RESULTS, PUT ON TWO COATS. If you lose your sense of smell due to Covid, here's a simple fix. Just reset to olfactory settings.
Friday Twain is Leaving the Station
The government is merely a servant―merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide who is a patriot and who isn't. Its function is to obey orders, not originate them. Mark Twain
Throat Punch Poetry: The River
By S. Lewis
From the banks on which you stand, you understand A stream flows by that cannot be known You cannot swim in it nor put you toe in it You can fish in it your entire life And never catch a fish You can throw a rock into it But it's too wide to throw across it You cannot see through the surface into its deep Sometimes you see the surface roil But you never see the creature that roiled it Sunlight glints diamonds off the ripples Storm clouds are reflected upon the surface Yet when you lean over You never see your own reflection And as thirsty as you may be Your hands cannot not cup the water Every day it flows past
Moment of Zen
I saw this on my walk last week.
Thank you so much for reading The PPP. If you are not ready to become a paid subscriber, you can simply make a one-time donation here at Buy Me A Coffee. Nothing does more for me than when someone tells me how much they like my writing. I appreciate all of you who follow this page.
Thank you Sammie for posting and your love of our veterans and country is appreciated. I wish I could’ve been there with you