Soldier

Last month a soldier from Dubois county was killed in Iraq. His body was transported from the airport in Louisville to his hometown. The route taken went in front of my grandmother's house. There had been a call for people to line the road to honor him. My grandmother couldn't stand by the road, but she sat by her front door for an hour and a half waiting for the procession to pass.

Everyone is hoping this is the last time this happens.

Little League

The peewee team that my cousin is on has 6, 7 and 8 yr olds. The team is the best in the league(6-0). Last wednesday, they played the worst team (zero wins).

That night, the pitching machine could not be adjusted as well as usual and 14 of the first 15 batters struck out. With two on in the bottom of the 6th (the last inning), my second cousin hit a pit that rolled to the fence and the White Sox won again.

The coach called them over for their postgame huddle and told these kids: "If you play like that on saturday, we will lose." He did not mention my cousin's winning hit or the dramatic victory. He did not buy the frozen koolaid pops that are always given to the team when they win. And what's more, he went over to the parents and told them not to buy the frozen pops either.

I think this guy must have cried when Bobbby Knight was finally fired from Indiana University.

Postscript:
The above story was related to me by a parent who was at the game. Three weeks later, during the championship weekend, I heard him tell his players to "have fun, we just want you to try."

Perhaps people learn.

Maybe one of the kids took him aside and clued him in.

VFD

The Volunteer Fire Department. I was a little surprised that they still existed. I thought this was clearly the responsibilty of the government. Turns out I was wrong when it comes to very small towns.

For most of Birdseye's history and the surrounding little communities, when a fire started burning, you were left to whatever spontaneous help was available. For this reason, a lot of Birdseye has burned down over the years. It gets rebuilt in one form or another but several old buildings are gone. Such as the Livery, Hotels (there were two), etc.

But about 50 years ago, people around here started to organize a system to respond to these emergencies. I'm told my grandfather and Uncle were two original VFD members and that my Uncle Allen was the chief for several years.

I'm not sure how it worked then but I know that now it works by community people volunteering to go through the same training as paid fire department personnel. They are given pagers and blue lights on their dashboards and when a fire breaks out, they respond when they can. Their training includes Haz Mat, First Responder Emergency Technicians, etc. Same as their paid counterparts.

I used to think I volunteered a lot in my neighborhood back in Detroit.

Private Property

The above is a small part of one example of how country people got rid of stuff that wasn't burnable. They used part of their land as a dump.

My grandfather used 6-10 parts of his land as a dump. I find anything from the traditional tires to air conditioners to steam irons. Most little piles are not immediately noticeable. They lurk beneath overgrowth on the edges.

The former chickencoop is the most noticeable dumpsite. It has an old water heater, carseat and assorted crap strewn through it's crumbling carcass that disrespect everything that the chickens sacrificed. The shelter is on it's last haunch and dressed in its ragged greenery that almost hides its shame.

Reminds me of Detroit.

A neighbor explained that years ago people felt they had the right to do this because there was no system to deal with garbage and because they owned the property.

Never has it been so clear to me that nobody ever owns property.

Thanks Pop-pop.

Burn Barrels

I can remember one of the hi-lites of visiting my grandmother and grandfather when I was young was the privilege of burning the garbage. It seemed a serious responsibility that they easily gave and I eagerly accepted. I felt like someone was trusting me with something important and it was fun.

At about age 12, I started questioning this practice in my mind as the garbage included plastic. By age 16, I had accepted the fact that my grandparents weren't perfect and that perhaps I knew something that they didn't but should know. Nervously, I told my grandparents that burning plastic was a bad idea and why.

Didn't seem to faze them much.

But 30 years later, their outdoor brick oven that was used for burning garbage has finally disappeared. Taken to the ground by time and incineration. There is still charred debris settled around the base that was built into the ground. I picked up some of the ash from that era and used it to pack a hole for a post, thinking that perhaps it is best discarded back to the earth. I'm not so sure I did the right thing. And as I write this, I'm more sure it should have gone to the local landfill. But even that doesn't seem completely correct.

The picture above is a blurry rendition of a neighbor burning garbage this past week. It's been illegal to burn garbage for a few years and Dubois County actually had an amnesty program where people could turn in their 'burn barrels' without penalty. But there are people, like my neighbors, who still burn some of their garbage.

It's fairly ironic that one of them works for the county health department.

But even as I write this, I DO remember that I drove to school today...and will drive tomorrow and probably the day after and the day after and...

Pets or Meat

Okay, the title of this entry is stolen from the Michael Moore documentary.

But it keeps coming back to me every time I see the neighbor's pet deer.

Middle School

I was teaching at Southridge Middle School in Huntingburg on the last day before Spring Break. The counselor picked names of students that have either had perfect attendance, not gotten demerits or made the honor roll.

In the afternoon, he told me one of the eighth grade girls in my room had won a fishing pole.

The girl amusedly explained that she might not use it very much. The counselor wondered whether she would benefit at all from the prize.

She said she would, just not that much.

I tried to imagine what an eighth grade girl in Detroit would think of winning a fishing pole at school.