Midnight Angel

"Commercial 15, anybody interested?" I heard squawk over my CB as I pulled back into the hotel after supper. I ask one of my friends who was with me, "what did they say?" Just as if to answer my question "Commercial 15, anybody interested? This is Midnight Angel."

Channel 15 is a channel I use on the CB to talk with my crew as we travel the roads from job to job. I'm not much of a CB talker unless it's to my guys. I sometimes drive a Big truck, Large car, or semi, depending on what you want to refer to it as, but I'm not a trucker. So in my service truck, that usually gets me from project to project, I leave my CB on 15. And there she was.

Now I'm not naive, I understand that prostitution happens, and it's a sad reality that for some women it's a living. Call it circumstance, bad choices, lazy, what ever, it happens and it's a pretty lucrative business as I'll explain. I'm just not used to seeing it (or hearing it in this case) first hand. It kind of took me by surprised.

One of my new guys, just in from the trucking world, assures me I'm hearing what I think I'm hearing. So as I park in front of my hotel, I sit and listen. Just to shorten this story a bit, here's the operation. One girl, Bubble gum, is working the CB setting up the trucks, and Midnight Angel is keeping the appointments. They broadcast height, weight, hair color, bust size, and price list all on Channel 15.

My Guys go on into the hotel to watch the presidential debate, but I'm still intrigued, so I sit and listen, and begin to pray.

A million things run through my head, how did these girls get into this position? Is there a Pimp somewhere orchestrating all of this? Doesn't she know she has much more self worth than this? Don't miss understand I'm not pias or self righteous by any means, I'm a non judgemental kind of person. I'm not as interested in how they got there as how can they get out.

A friend of mine is in the Ministry and is helping Girls in Mongolia get out of the prostitution ring. It's apparently worse in that country than this one. For every $300 he can raise, he can bring a girl off the street, put them in an apartment for 6 months, and train them with skills to get a job, and a life outside of prostitution. His ministry comes to mind as I sit and listen.

"Commercial 15, is there anybody else?" From 8:57 to 9:45 when I left my truck for my room, there must have been half a dozen appointments. I pray and think as the time passes. Finally I talk with Bubble Gum over the CB and ask if I can have a private conversation over the phone with her and offer to give her my number (I'm assuming she's not going to give me hers). My intentions is to see if I could just talk with her.

Now before you jump to conclusions, I'm not stupid. My plan was to see if she would either meet me at the restaurant or even in the parking lot out front, and I was going to bring one of the Brothers with me to ensure no appearance of evil.

As it turns out neither of them were interested in having a conversation unless it involved cash, $50 a half hour, and when push came to shovel, they really weren't interested in talking at all.


What do we do when times like these arise? Do Christians really want to help people? Do we care enough about people to go to the streets, get down into the dirty places of the reality of life and offer hope? What I wanted to say to her was that God Really does cares for her, personally. Not for me to judge her about her lifestyle or look down my nose at her, but to see her like the woman at the well, and tell her God cares.

We each have a story. It's who we are and where we have been that makes up our story, the sum of our life's experiences. She might be a single mother just trying to keep her kids fed and the rent paid. She might be an addict just trying to get to the next fix. She might be a battered wife left on the streets. I'm wonder what her story is. Who is the girl behind the Midnight Angel? I know I can't save her, or even offer her a way out, but I do know there is hope. There is a better way.

I saw her car pull into the vacant lot filled with semi trucks CB antennae on the roof across the street. It was a ragged old escort and beat up at that. Unfortunately I didn't get to hear her story, but I'm sure it's one of sadness.

God never intended something so beautiful and intimately designed for a lifetime of marriage to be turned into something so casual and cheap, just to make a dollar or even in this case several dollars. The world turned it into that. God designed this girl to bring hope and happiness to a family and husband, to be a strong woman of God, and to worship him. But yet tonight she's just "Commercial 15, Midnight Angel here, anybody interested?"


God I pray from the comfort of my hotel, that you would find another opportunity to share you plan for this Girl. I know she's as important to you as the rest of us are. And even though she might not find her way to church on sunday morning, that you will find her were she is. I pray somewhere, somehow, you would give her another opportunity to hear how you really feel. I know you know her story, and I know you know her ending, I pray it's a good end. I pray she find your peace in her life, and show her the better way. In Jesus name... Amen


Remember Look Up, Live Life, and Be Thankful

Kevin

Gettysburg

Gettysburg, PA

What would the dead say if they could speak? What words would they share? Would they complain? Would they have a list of “I wish I would have…?” Would they share some advice? Who can say? I walked among the dead the other day on Cemetery Hill in Gettysburg, PA and I wondered just that. What would a soldier from this great battle of the Civil war say if they could share their thoughts?

Don’t let me loose you; I haven’t fell off the deep end. As I walked with a friend of mine, Eddie Dutschke from the world famous town of Paynesville, KY, we strolled down the rows of headstones from many states of the Union who fought and died here in this sleepy Midwestern town, and I wondered these thoughts.

Cemetery Hill is not only the resting place for many of our bravest departed, and the site of the Gettysburg Address, but also the core defensive positions for the Union Army. Some of these soldiers actually fought and spilled blood on the ground they would later be buried in.

The surreal feeling of walking thru this great place and standing where the great Statesman President Abraham Lincoln gave the famous address, left me with feelings that are hard to explain.

The civil war was fought at a time much different from ours, in a manner much different from modern warfare. There were no smart bombs, no Apache helicopters, no mortars, and not even one Special Operations Operative, only cannons, rifles, and bayonets. When you look down the barrel of your rifle and see the enemy advancing, you pull the trigger. Out of sight, out of range, we are talking close combat. Many brave souls poured their hearts and lives into defending their positions, and many rest in those same positions today.

We visited the museum and took the bus tour around the battlefield that encircles Gettysburg. As we listened to our guide share the facts of the battle and things about places like Little Round Top and Pickett’s Charge, we could almost hear the cannons and see the smoke.

So, What would the dead say if they could speak? I believe they would be proud for the freedom they fought for, and wonder how we have gotten so far from our roots. Roots of democracy, roots of good will, roots of our faith. When did we become a such a selfish society? When did the well being of our fellow man fall prey to our own desires?

I think life has become something of hustling instead of living. We pass each other without even noticing one another. We are plugged into the media by newspaper, internet, phone, IPod, and text. We spend more time on less important things in the quest of getting ahead or staying ahead. We don’t love or share like generations past. Christmas for example has become a business instead of a time of families, traditions, and sharing. To describe it as simply as I can I think we have become way out of balance.

When was the last time you could actually say you were at peace with your life? Last weekend on the boat or your favorite campsite? When was the last time you really relaxed without a time limit? When was the last time you sat and played a game with the kids or grandkids?

The soldiers of the civil war fought for freedom, to keep the union together, and to end slavery in our beloved country. To support our Constitutional freedoms declared in the Declaration of Independence and the foundations we believe in. To support the very words our forefathers penned when they declared “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” I believe we have forgotten where we came from, and forgotten these three basic values. Let me explain: Life – to live a life of meaning and substance not measured by wealth or possessions, but by love. Sharing ‘life’ with those we hold most dear to us. Caring about something bigger than ourselves. Liberty – freedom, the right to govern ourselves personally without indentured slavery to debt or the pursuit of material things. To unplug from the hustle and enjoy peaceful lives that are fulfilling. Pursuit of Happiness – the right to pursuit what makes us most happy, our families, our hobbies, our ambition to live our dreams, to be innovative, to share our passions and make possibilities realities.

Somewhere along the way we have forgotten who we are. Gettysburg was the turning point in the war that birthed a nation united, bound for these freedoms. We need to revisit our past by looking into our lives and making touch choices. We must find ourselves to deliver ourselves back into this life of freedom.

Gettysburg isn’t just a place memorialized in time by the blood shed by our nation’s soldiers; it’s one of those places every American should visit and walk among the dead to hear what they have to say, (figuratively speaking). I stood atop Little Round Top and looked across the field of battle, and prayed. I ask God to redefine me into what he intended; to make my passions his passions. I’ve made a habit of self examination; to look into myself with the purpose of improvement; to find the real me.

Gettysburg is an American Memorial treasure. It’s both inspiration and historical. It drew from me a reflection on the history of our great nation and of myself. It inspired me to refocus my thinking and directions. It shared with me a timeless passion for hope. It’s well worth the trip to see for yourself.

Life is a precious thing, we only pass this way once, like those soldiers before us, I pray we find God’s Holy inspiration to make an impact in this world, and to define our lives with greatness.

I pray our journeys find the Life of true meaning, and that we will have the passion to share it with others.


Remember Look Up, Live Life, and Be Thankful

Kevin

Memories

As my day comes to an end, I find myself looking back over a memory from earlier this year, in late February. To paint you the mental picture, let me just fill in a few blanks:

I started my day today in the pan handle of Maryland, sandwiched between West Virginia, and Southern Pennsylvania. All up in the Appalachian mountainside, in the booming metropolis of George's Creek (approx. 15 houses). For those more interested in details, you'll find it due south of I-68, exit 34 on SR 36 near Frostburg, which is just east of Cumberland, MD.

This morning started like every other morning, except as I walked outside my hotel I felt the brisk air send a chill through my body. I'm not sure of the actual temperature, probably around 60 degrees. Now this doesn't sound chilly on the surface, but since last week was in the 90's, it felt chilly to me. I broke out a hooded sweatshirt for good measure anyway. Around 9am the sun rose enough to began sharing it's heat, I took off the jacket for a few hours, just to put it back on again later.

My project ended early, so my crew and I headed north to Johnstown PA, (near the Flight 93 Memorial site) to prepare for tomorrow's project. When we finally made it to the hotel, I checked us in and went to my room to clean up for supper. (We had Cozemels Mexican by the way.)

I hope this next part is not TMI, but I'll share it because it's crucial to understand the point of my story. I wasn't over my chill yet, so I took a quick hot shower to warm up. Before I got out, I turned the water to my usual luke warm to cool, and then it hit me!

Our minds work like an intricate spiderweb; made up of ideas, memories, sounds, smells, and thoughts. Many of which are interlinked like files in a hard drive, touching but not always connected. As an example, when a certain song comes on your favorite radio channel that is from your childhood, or maybe your teenage years, you instantly remember a moment in time, a date, a dance, some lost love one, or something having nothing to do with the song, but represents a time in your life story. This is what happened to me.

As the cool water hit my skin from the shower I remembered a day in late February earlier this year in the Dominican Republic. I was in an apartment provided for me by G.O. Ministries while in Santiago. It didn't have hot water, at least not like we think of here in the states. They use something known as a widow maker to make hot water. Let me explain; instead of a usual shower head we think of, the shower head is bigger and has electrical wires coming out of it, wrapping around the pipe and into the wall. As the water comes through the head it's heated, sort of, but not heated enough to suit my wife if you know what I mean. The good thing about them is this, you never have to wipe the fog off the mirror.

Anyway; even in February it's hot in the Caribbean. This particular day I had come in from my daily trip out to one of the ministry sites and jumped into the shower to freshen up for the evening. The cool water felt good since it was hot, and a thought came to my mind. The children at the feeding center I had spent the morning with have never known a shower like I have at home. Never had the opportunity to spend lots of time absorbing the hot massaging waters we have in America. Since my widow maker barely provided what I would call a sprinkle, I reflected on the moment. Most of the children do not take showers, but rather a bath out of a pot of cold water. As I stood in the shower both today and in early February my heart was on those children.

We have life so good, and most of us totally take it for granite. Life is full of those we have forgotten. Children who don't know the privileges we have here. McDonalds on every corner, Walmart, good education, food to not only eat, but to gorge on. Life in the Dominican to me is easier and harder at the same time. The don't have the luxuries that we don't even notice, but also have a simpler life because of it. My two weeks in the Dominican last February was physically exhausting, mentally challenging, and an emotional roller coaster, but was the best adventure of my life. To use a word I use a lot, it was impactful. So much so my heart and dreams always seem to find me thinking of these children and a place so special to me, that I want to leave all of this world behind, and trade it for that one.

I've been ask by many that know me personally 'Why would you want to leave here, to go there and live in poverty?' I can't really put it in words other than this; Why would Jesus leave all of Heaven to come here? Because he could and did make all the difference.

My quest in life is simply this: Be a loving husband to my wonderful wife Felicia, Be a loving Dad to two awesome daughters, and change as many lives for the better as I can before I die. To spend this life, in such a way, that at the end of life's day I will be able to say I did my best. Using every resource, every opportunity, every day to bring God glory. Call me a radical? let me quote my older brother on this one; "I may not always be right, but I'm am always convinced." I know what I believe, and if I'm wrong, it was worth helping people anyway, so what.

To all my friends and missionaries with G.O. Ministries, and to my friends in Africa, I thank God for your passion to care for other people. To look beyond yourselves and into the lives of others, providing hope and love to all of God's children. For feeding the forgotten, housing the unwanted, building churches for those with nowhere to go, your sacrifices do not and will not go unnoticed. To quote my friend Pastor Elijah Wafula "You are an ambassador from another kingdom. And that kingdom is God's." Thank you for all that you do.

My day has came and gone, my only hope is that tomorrow will bring me the opportunity to brighten someones day. Maybe to share God's good news, or maybe just bring someone a smile, either way I end this day as I began it, with some time in prayer, and leaving it in the hands of an Almighty God to use as he wishes.

Remember Look Up, Live Life, and Be Thankful

Kevin

Do you want to get a room?

“Do you want to get a room?”

“I don’t know”, I said “what do you think?” “Well I’ll stay if it’s decent, I don’t want to stay at a dump.” “Me either.” We travelled up the banks of the Ohio River towards our next destination in Chester, WV.

Travelling has become as natural to me as brushing my teeth when I get up. Sometimes I forget where I am, as the fog of my mind tries to focus and find clarity at 5:30 in the morning. My phone usually wakes me with my two daughters saying “Wake up Daddy; it’s time to get up.” I use them as my alarm ringtone to start off my morning. I’ve found the usual Hotel alarm clocks aren’t always reliable to start my day with.

As we come up SR 22 from Cambridge, OH and I77, we finally make a decision. The hotel chain we usually stay at has an unusually high daily rate, so we rely on the sole opinion of the project engineer we met last week. Our home for the week will be above a restaurant in downtown Chester, WV. We call and make arrangements for a late arrival with the clerk, which entails them leaving the keys (and I mean real keys, not the plastic magnetic strip type) outside behind a screen door.

What we found when we arrived was a quaint little town of Chester, has some of the most polite and hospitable people around. Call it southern hospitality or what ever you want, but if I couldn’t read a map, and didn’t know we were only 30 miles from the Pittsburgh airport, I would think we were a long way from what I’ve come to realize is an east coast charm.

We arrive at Connie’s Restaurant and Lodging on Carolina Ave at 11:45pm to find our keys and rooms waiting our arrival. We park in our rooms for a short night before our usual long days.

We awake to a beautiful morning of fog rolling off the Ohio River, and crystal smooth water. Chester mirrors the Ohio city of East Liverpool, and as opposite as a mirror image is the city of East Liverpool is of Chester. East Liverpool is a bigger but older more run down city. It looks similar to Old Louisville before the renewal projects. Both cities revolve around industry, steel mills, and the world famous Fester China, a product of the Homer Lauglin China Company.

At the end of our first long day, we thought we would give Connie’s Corner Restaurant a try, with hopes of finding a good home cooked meal. Without changing clothes we walk in to find warm smiles. As we waited to be seated, the owner Connie offered us a table. I ask if we were too dirty, or too late since it was 7:30pm and they close at 8pm. She assured us we were welcome.

The menu offers a variety of great home cooked meals, from pasta to burgers, steak to breakfast. I opted for a light breakfast to finish off my day. I even ask our waitress if I could go ahead and order my breakfast for the next morning since I was just staying above the restaurant. She laughed and told me she wouldn’t be here to put the order in. Connie’s doesn’t open up till 7am, which is about 30 minutes too late for us to eat breakfast there, but when Connie came over to great us she assured us that if we would like some coffee in the morning just come around the side of the building to the kitchen entrance and coffee would be ready. True to her word, Connie met us there at 6am to start breakfast, and had 3 black coffees ready to go.

I have travelled to 37 of the 50 states and 3 foreign countries. I spend a lot of time eating at restaurants while I travel, and Connie made us feel as if we came home. To Connie and Bob Hissam, the Restaurant and Lodging staff, a big Kentucky thank you for going the extra mile. The best part is the week has just begun; we’ll be here until Friday.

If life’s road ever finds you in Chester, WV, you should make a stop at Connie’s Corner Restaurant and Lodging, you won’t be let down. I recommend the home fries.


K note:

I like to think of myself as an observant person. I pay particular attention to people. No one in particular, just Joe Public’s mannerisms, they way they act when they don’t realize anyone are watching. That is why I mentioned the East Coast Charm earlier. My observations are these: We as Americans in the Midwest and the east coast regions are for the most part very impatient. To prove a point, go to any Wal-Mart in our part of the country and you can see people frustrated because the front row parking spots are all full. Another driver making the laps in the parking lot trying to park by the door. Ever have one of those drivers behind you at a stop light that when the light turns green their horn starts blowing before you even have time to release the brake. As if ‘Big Daddy’ Don Garlits (a drag racer) just missed the tree at the IHRA nationals. Where has our patience gone?

The first two days in Chester have proved to be the exception instead of the rule, friendly people, and great service. I find people pointing out to me the fact that I use or sir (old military habit) a lot. I was raised to be respectful and polite. I wish the y generation had such habits. My wife and I decided before we had children to pass that kind of respect on to them. It’s quite a surprise to the older generations to hear 10 and 12 year olds being polite. It’s out of the norm.

I believe that if my generation (X) would focus their minds and use the resources available to us; we could make an impact on this world that would change the course of our planet. We have the opportunity to do good in more places in the world, than ever before in history. We possess and employ the world’s best technology; we only lack the drive and motivation to do anything about it. My generation suffers from selfishness, and apathy. Now I’m talking on the whole, don’t take offense if this is not how you live your life. Try an experiment, spend one day this week and make an additional effort to be polite and kind, random acts of kindness.

Make today a good day; show someone else that you care.

Remember Look Up, Live Life, and Be Thankful

Kevin

I saw it in her eyes. A fireman's story

Sarah walked out of the front door, locking it behind her, and with a gentle wave saying “See you tonight.” Jumped into her SUV and left for work. It was a fabulous morning, the sun had just crested the trees, shining the morning light across the street as she pulled out of the neighborhood and headed for the freeway. Her mind bounced from little Amy’s Brownie meeting tonight to the papers she had to get ready for her work meeting. She wondered if Jim would grill the steaks for dinner or if he’d bake them as she turned left onto the freeway. She merged into traffic as she felt her unborn baby move around, probably stretching his leg under her ribs. Sarah placed her hand on her head and leaned against the door with her elbow as she noticed traffic backing up once again from the road construction. Just another morning in Pittsburgh.

Traffic lanes split, one for thru traffic, one for local. Sarah eases into the thru traffic just like every morning. As she travels thru the 45 MPH zone at the usual 50, passing the safety green- vested workers without hardly even a notice, the van in front of her chalks up the brakes…POW!!!!! Before she even realizes what has happened the airbag deflates. “Ohhh! Did I hit him?...What? The Baby!!! ………………..


Life is fickle. We never know what the day will bring when we leave for work. Our daily pressures put unrealistic demands on our lives, which skews our priorities. "I wish I had told him I’m sorry. I wish I had spent more time with the kids. I wish I had saved some money."

The above story is a complete product of my imagination based on events that are true. I use them only to paint a mental picture to show how quick life can change. I don’t know who was driving the vehicles in the following pictures, or anything about their lives.



All I do know is this, these are the facts: The van had a couple driving together in it. The SUV, a Mercury Mariner, was driven by a lady 8 months pregnant, and the Semi was apparently the driver at fault. The Semi was probably driving too fast in the construction zone I was working in with my usual crew on I79 just west of downtown Pittsburgh. The Semi couldn’t stop in time to prevent from hitting slowing traffic in front of him. He hit the Mariner scooping it up onto the wall and pushing it into a van in front of it. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I don’t think anyone was seriously injured. The pregnant lady went to the Hospital to get checked out, but she didn’t seem to be in any serious pain.

The ambulance and several fire trucks arrived at the scene to provide care for all involved. One of the firefighters, a volunteer I might add, caught my attention; not just because she was a woman, or even because she was pretty, but because she was ‘doing’. She was right in the middle of everything. She helped the paramedics lift the gurney over a barrier wall with the pregnant driver in tow. She was grabbing gear and shoring up the vehicle on the wall. I did not see the accident happen, but was on scene before the ambulance. Everyone seemed to be fine, except for the pregnant driver, and she was only worried about the baby. As I watched the rescue crews from my side of the barrier wall in the construction zone, I was just in amazement at how eager she and the other emergency responders were to help and care for these total strangers on maybe their worst day of their lives, and to them it’s just another call, just another day on the truck.

I saw it in her eyes as I looked at this picture, the compassion and concern this fireman had for these people. She was actually holding her chiefs turnout gear coat, while the others loaded up their gear to go back to the station.

Everyday these unsung heroes meet us at a time of crisis, without for the most part even a thank you. More likely than not, the victims of this accident will never meet the rescue crews again. Their bravery, although appreciated at the moment, will go unnoticed and unrecognized.

I had the chance to talk with a local fireman recently about some of the types of calls he has gone on. Basically he has seen it all, and as he put it “we all have.” But he still goes to work, he still gets on the truck, and he still comes when we call.

9/11 brought light to these brave heroes in New York, but they aren’t just in NY. They are in our cities and towns alike everyday. Next time you see one of them, give them a pat on the back. Thank them for pulling long shifts, coming out in the rain and the cold, for risking it all to save lives and property. You never know what tomorrow will bring. Like Sarah, don’t wish you had … love your family now. Don’t wait until tomorrow.

A special thanks to the fireman, paramedics, EMTs, Police, and rescue workers that get up every morning to make a difference in someone’s life. Thanks for coming when we call.



May God keep you safe as you watch out for others.


Remember Look Up, Live Life, and be Thankful

Kevin

Fallen but not forgotten

I ran into one of those tragic heart wringing moments last saturday evening. While searching the Internet for another SGT I served with, I came across a web site for Fallen Heros (http://www.fallenheroesmemorial.com/). I searched the list I saw two names that were all too familiar.



Before I get too far into this let me explain a few things for the none military readers: While in the Army I was stationed with B co 214th AVN Regt in Hawaii from '92 - '95 then at 101st AVN Brigade at Ft. Campbell, Ky till '97 when my enlistment was up and I pursued other avenues. Travelling from Post to Post during a stint or career in the military is just part of the Army life. Such was the case when I arrived in Hawaii.


The first day I arrived at my permanent unit (B Co 214) it was about 4pm and it was almost time to go home for the day. My sponser signed me into the unit Pvt. Kevin Hatfield and drove me to the barracks so I could get a room assigned. The CQ took one look at me with all worldly belongings in hand and said "Pvt. you are on latrein detail." I responded just breifly to inform him that I didn't have a room yet and didn't know where the latreen was (of course haven't even had the privilage to use it yet before I get to clean it). He quickly assigned me a room to drop my bags in and escourted me to the facilities.






I walk into my first toilet cleaning vacation in paradise to find two other privates already working things back into shape. Mike Russell greated me with the Virginia version of "What's up?" Mike, my age of 19ish had been in the unit only a few months and was in the Maintenace Platoon and was a CH-47 Chinook mechanic. We immediately hit it off. Mike over the next few years would become a good friend ( by good friend I mean, we talked a lot at work and had him over to the house a few times, including one party involving 'jungle juice' where mike spent a majority of the night on my sidewalk). Mike was the best kind of soldier. He not only was reliable and responsible, but also looked out for others. Later Mike moved to Flight Platoon and became a Crew Cheif under SSG Steve Marietta (Another of our countries finest). Mike took to the new job with enthusiam and poise. We served together till just before I left for Haiti when he was leaving for Ft. Carson Colorado. And as with many military relationships we lost touch shortly after.


I found out Saturday that he had been killed in Afghanistan in Kumar Provine June 28, 2005. At 36 I haven't had very many friends of mine die, so it came kind of sudden, but this I know of the Mike I knew so many years ago, he loved his job. Mike's MH-47 was part of the 160th Nightstalkers, which is the elite of the Aviation world in the Army. Only the best are a part of it, and they have there act together. It only seemed fitting to know that Mike was a part of that group. They were the story behind the movie Black Hawk Down and the pilot Michael Durant that was taked Prisoner in Somalia.


Mike is sadly missed by all who knew him I'm sure, and even my heart is not full knowing he is gone. But to me Mike is a hero. I pray one day in heaven we'll get to catch up on old times. Rest well my friend.

Mike Russell http://www.fallenheroesmemorial.com/oef/profiles/russellmichaell.html








Maj. Curtis D. Feistner "Curt" to those who knew him, was a different kind of soldier to me. I didn't know him the same way I knew Mike. Curt was also in B Co 214 while I was there. He was a 2nd Lieutenant when I first came to Hawaii, but I figured out pretty quick he wasn't the usual officer. Curt wasn't an ROTC kind of officer. And I mean no disrespect by that, but Curt was from West Point. Which means he was a strong leader. Enlisted men and officers don't mingle, so with Curt it was all business. As he moved up the ranks and eventually became a Captian, he became my Platoon leader and Flight Operations Officer.


Curt lead by example, he never asked us to do something he wouldn't do, and several times he was right there with us getting it done. Level headed, common sense, just an all around great guy. He did the Hawaii Iron Man Challenge and finished it. He wasn't the kind of leader to quite. I was on CQ duty at the hanger the day he competed. When it was all over his eyes were swollen and he looked as though he had been through hell. But he was just being himself.


Some of us younger guys used to joke with him about his car. Of course all young men were about there cars. If memory serves it was either a Buick LeSabre or a Chevy Celebrity that used to be his grandmother's, however it was a dull silver or grey. His response "It's paid for and gets me where I'm going." Common Sense! Curt used his head, he thought things through.


Curt left Hawaii while I was in Haiti for the 160th also, at Ft. Campbell. I saw him a couple of times there around post before I got out. He eventually received his command as a Major, and it wasn't just any unit it was E Co in the 160th. They just don't let anyone command there, they only allow the best to lead. I found that quite fitting. If I had served either in Desert Storm or this current campaign on Terrorism I would have wanted Curt at the helm. He was a true leader.


My favorite movie of all time is Band of Brothers, about E Co. 506th PIR 101st Airborne during WWII. The company commander's name was Dick Winters. If you are familiar with the movie, Curt was that kind of leader to me.



Curt was on a mission when his MH-47 went down in the Sea south of the Philippines on Feb 21, 2002. Curt was the kind of leader that if his troops were on a mission he wanted, and usually was, with them.



My fondest memory was a platoon hiking trip we went on with Curt leading the way. We hiked along the island dividing ridge on Oahu, Hawaii. He took a picture of all of us, and made sure we each got a copy. We spent the afternoon just taking about the Army and how great it was to be serving in such a paradise. Curt was very fond of Hawaii, I think it appealled to his outgoing nature.

Maj. Curt Feistner is sorely missed by all that knew him. And I'm sure the Army lost one of the best I ever met.



To all those that greive the loss of a loved one that served our great country, and gave their all for our freedom, no words could express the gratitude that I have. I am thankful to have served with both Mike & Curt, Heros to the core. Their memories and Spirit live one.


To all the Military still fighting: Keep up the good work. And Thanks for serving us back home.


Remember Look Up, Live Life, and Be Thankful

Kevin

Street talk

Have you ever been sitting in a public place and watch people walk by? Checking out their clothes, their mannerisms, hear their conversations, how they talk to each other? I was waiting on my wife and daughter in the mall yesterday, outside of a clothes store. If any man has ever been in this situation, you know I was there a while. So as I sat without a book or anything else to entertain myself, except my Orange Julius that cost me $4.30, so I was watching the people walk by.

Now before I tell you about the people I noticed, let’s discuss a couple of issues: I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking on this subject so if you’ve never heard this point of view don’t close me off till you hear me out.

The American Dream: From the beginning of our country, the Pilgrims came to this new land for a fresh start from England (and the Church of England). They were seeking the opportunity to practice free religion and the rights to decide for themselves how best to live their lives. Then later the Fore Fathers were tired of excessive taxation with out any representation in England’s government, so they declared their independence from their former government. This was finally obtained through the revolutionary war. Since then immigrants from around the world have moved to our country to embrace the freedoms we have here.

Bring this more up to date. As we travelled through the last century and industrialization came to the forefront, manufacturing and assembly lines with mass production made it possible for people to own more things. Then the marketing staffs came up with the idea of financing our purchases and making payments over time. Now this idea is as normal as bottled water today, but at one time being in debt was a shame because it meant you couldn’t afford to pay for the things you needed to buy. A good example of this was Lee Iacocca’s marketing scheme “56 in 56.” Buy a new ’56 Ford and make $56 payment for 36 months. Vehicles had only been financed for 12 months up to that point. Today 72 months and 84 month financing and leasing is a usual practice. Which makes the vehicle at normal driving of 15k miles a year wore out before the financing is over. This keeps the consumer in a negative equity trading pattern, which perpetuates longer financing. Plus the American entitlement mentality of always wanting bigger, better, badder, causes people to trade vehicles earlier continuing the problem. Ever wonder why the auto industry keeps coming out with newer body styles, and more choices each year? To keep you in the trade cycle. To keep the Retail Machine humming.

Now a days it’s not about being in or out of debt it’s more about what you have regardless if it has a payment booklet with it or not. I can say this because I spent over five years in direct sales, both inside and outside sales. During this time I sold well over a millions dollars of product, a majority of it was financed.

The commercialization of our nation has been more like indoctrination to the American Retail Machine that is driving our nation’s economy today. I prove this by saying; listening to any news cast this week and you will hear them talking about the housing market, foreclosures, the economy, and retail sales are down. The big three automakers GM, Ford, and Chrysler (actually this would be the old big three since Toyota is now in 2nd and are poised to take 1st from GM) are at record lows. They have increased sales with traditional gimmicks such as 0% financing, longer warranties, gas cards, huge sales, and such. Don’t miss understand me, I’m not against the auto industry. Everyone deserves to own a vehicle, but buy one that not only suits your needs, but also suites your budget. Do some research and buy the right vehicle at the right time. Cars are a usable commodity. They are not an investment (speaking about normal cars). Cars were never intended as a place to store money. Most vehicles loose a tremendous amount of value in a short period of time. Be careful, where you park your money.

The retail machine is like a thriving animal that has a constant appetite. It’s not important so much as what you buy as long as it’s something that is for sale in the retail market. The Old American Dream of owning a piece of land and having a house, with a family has been replaced with grand suburban homes, IPods, eating out, and American Eagle clothing. When & Why did our social status become linked to our ‘stuff’? Why has stuff taken precedence over character? Why when two men meet in the first few minutes they will find out how each of them make a living? The ruler in which we place social status is measuring the wrong things. Why is a doctor higher than a teacher, and a teacher higher than a janitor? A janitor higher than a garbage man, and so on, when in actuality they could all belong to the same moose lodge? This doesn’t make sense to me. Abraham Lincoln said in a speech “if you are a janitor, be the best janitor you can be.” Everybody is blessed with unique circumstances and opportunities. It’s like poker, you can’t help what you are dealt, but you make the best hand you can with what you get. The only difference is every hand is a winner, if you don’t measure with money.

The earth and everything here was created for the people on it. In other words, people are the most important ‘commodity’. Invest in people.

Let’s venture back to the mall, here’s the picture: I’m standing my post on a bench outside of a national clothing store (no names, copyright infringements, etc.) but let’s just say it’s a popular one with the ‘y’ generation of the teenager age. My daughter had some money given to her by a good friend of mine, and she wanted to buy some clothes (my wife was supervising this because obviously as a father and in my daughter’s opinion, I know zip about clothes, and my wife is making sure she’s being a good steward over her money). So I’m enjoying my over priced Orange Julius (in case you’ve never had one, it’s a mixture of various fruit juices over crushed ice, that taste like it was meant to have a shot of rum in it, although it’s a non alcoholic beverage) just watching America walk by. I saw some of the most interesting people. Now understand I make none of the following statements as derogatory to any particular group or ethnicity. One particular guy walked past me, he was rather large but probably 25ish if I was to guess. He was wearing the long baggy jean that looked like they were dirt faded, red shirt with some tribal logo from a local chopper shop, red hat backwards (of course) and earrings that could double as chain links. Now I mean no disrespect (all though I’m sure it sounds that way) I understand this is a style, I’m not that old. But however his appearance was the grungy slob. I wondered what he was trying to express with those earrings.

Ok, before we drop into a tangent, today I went to church this morning with my family, I wore a baggy pair of jean cargo shorts, a silk shirt, beige with the aloha style print, and a pair of sandals. I’m now wearing a pair of cargo shorts, gray t shirt with a chopper logo, and sandals till I took them off a few minutes ago. No ear rings, although there was a time when a single gold hoop or diamond stud was part of my normal wear. So don’t think I’m just another stuffed shirt. What intrigued me was I want to understand this new ‘style’. What’s on the minds of the ‘y’ generation?

My next recipient of my amazement was an awesome sight. A young girl probably 4 and her mother walked past a gum machine. The little girl dropped in a quarter and gave it a twist. When she opened the cover to retrieve her gum a few pieces fell out onto the floor. She carefully, under mom’s gaze, grabbed the rest of the pieces and as mom walked off, picked up the other three with the precision of a hawk. She gentle gave them a blow as to say ‘5 second rule’ as our eyes met. I couldn’t have helped myself even if I wanted, I gave a hearty laugh as thought to myself I probably wouldn’t have even blew them off. Having girls myself, that’s one of the things you can do, as long as mom doesn’t find out. It’s ok to eat off the floor with Dad.

I watched several people walk past with boxers hanging out the back and still wondered even with the belt how they seem to defy gravity. Numerous teenagers with ear phones hanging out of one ear, walking, and talking to friends, and wondered “Is it cool now? Or is it cool to sport your Ipod as a symbol or status? A group of four girls walked past all engaged to cellys stuck to their ears. A group of young people sitting around a table sending text to others in never ever land. If I had one of their numbers I would have sent a text saying ‘doesn’t anyone ever talk face to face anymore?

As time went by and my social security check gets closer waiting on my girls to finish shopping, I saw butt checks hanging from under shorts that were barely visible, tops that were both too low and to high for my taste. A variety of hair styles and color, numerous tattoos and piercings, and I came to this question; what are we teaching the next generation of this countries leadership. Somewhere here in this great nation the next president is walking in a mall with one ear phone in one ear and texting the first lady. I don’t think this is what our Forefathers had in mind when they wrote in ‘Separation of Church and State’. I pray for the teachers and administrators charged with the education of today’s youth, they need all the help they can get.

Parents, I speak from my own experience, take an inventory of our children. Monitor what they read, what they watch, and what they listen too. If it matches what you believe, great, but if it doesn’t do something about it now. As my daughter came out as proud as a princess could be she informed me she only spent $9.

Don’t let society intrude on your influence; we only get a short period of time to make the proper influence on our children. Live your life as an example they can follow.

This great nation was built of foundational principles, values, and morals. The retail machine is selling, and unfortunately we are still buying.

Just in case you were wondering, I’m only 35.

Remember Look Up, Live Life, and Be Thankful


Kevin