Category Archives: Today in History

Operation Market Garden

I am a history buff. When I was dreaming of becoming a teacher, I dreamed of teaching American history and sharing my love of the subject. Instead, I’ve taught other subjects as my primary assignment – ELA (or English), Geography, and Science. In my twenty-seven years of teaching, I’ve been able to teach American history as my primary subject for one year. It was glorious.

It was during that year that I first heard of PFC James E. Wickline. It was the 2015-16 school year, and it seems very long ago.

I can only remember a few of the names of kids in my classes from that year. When I pass the framed class photos lining the main hallway, I sometimes stop at the 2016 class photo and read the names, the photos jog the memory, but sadly I recognize only a few of the hundred and twenty or so from the class I had in my classroom that year.

Interestingly, one of the people I volunteer at Loaves and Fishes is the mother of one of the boys from that class. He’s grown, graduated from college, and is working in Atlanta as an actuary. I sometimes wonder what happened to the rest of them. They were the class whose high school senior year was derailed by the COVID lockdown and many of their freshman years at college were spent isolated in remote learning.

When my wife and I were planning this past summer’s European trip she asked what wanted to do and see. My list was short, but it included visiting PFC James E. Wickline’s grave in the Netherlands American Cemetery near Margraten, Netherlands.

it was 2016, when I learned about Maarten Vossen, a Dutch man, who had adopted Wickline’s grave in the Netherlands American Cemetery when he was thirteen years old in 2002. The people in towns surrounding the Netherlands American Cemetery adopt the graves of fallen American servicemen and there is a waiting list.

Since 1945, the Netherlands American Cemetery is the only cemetery where the locals have adopted every single one of the fallen U.S. Soldiers—all 8,288 headstones as well as the 1,722 names on the Tablets of the Missing in the cemetery’s Court of Honor. In fact, he explained, the waitlist to adopt is so long that people are waiting more than 10 years, and the organization heading up the project is no longer taking new sign-ups. Read more at Honoring our legacy: Locals adopt graves of U.S. Soldiers.

As I learned more about the story, the more I wanted to learn, and the more I wanted to share.

Marten Vossen turned adopting Wickline’s grave into a mission to learn more about the soldier. Eventually, he traveled to Wickline’s home in West Virginia in 2012, and again in 2014, when a few in the community learned of his mission and began to help Vossen realize his dream to honor the fallen soldier. In July 2015 a bridge was dedicated in his honor as the PFC James E. Wickline Bridge near his home in Osage, West Virginia. (video at the end of the post)

In 2016, Marijn Poels, a Dutch independent filmmaker, released the documentary Ageless Friends about Vossen and his dream to honor Wickline. It’s an inspiring story.

In 2017, when we arrived at that point in American history I shared the story with my history classes and we watched the video and completed an assignment. I refined the assignment – making changes and adding and removing parts which didn’t work in 2018, 2019, and to finish the COVID year in 2020. I think the story impacted a more than a few of students and for a moment they were able to think beyond their 8th grade selves.

I went back to look at their reactions to the story, here are a few….I didn’t edit any of the remarks except the perfect generation comment….

Why do you think Maarten Vossen was drawn to adopt James Wickline’s grave marker in the Netherlands American Cemetery?

    • Because he was a solider and american solders are the reason he has freedom.
    • He was probably drawn to adopt a grave because he wanted to pay his respects to the people who served in the war. He wanted to be a part in what happened and help the people who were in the war. He probably was also intrigued to what happened to the men who fought. He wanted to help the people who helped his country.
    • I think he wanted to adopt a grave to show his appreciation for the American soldiers that liberated the Netherlands. He also wanted to help care for the grave and be helpful to the family that can’t put flowers on his grave because they are to far away. Lastly, he was interested in learning about the grave he adopted and wanted to know the backstory of how he passed.

What surprised you about the story of Maarten Vossen and James Wickline?

    • I wasn’t expecting them to be so close to each other. The lengths Maarten took to learn more about the man, whose grave is the one under his care.
    • That Maarten did not stop when he found out that James hardly saw war. What surprised me about James is he had so many people that remebered him and told so many stroies to help out Maarten get more information on James.
    • Maarten did not even know James and he did all of this for him

I feel the same way, that is why I wanted to visit his grave and pay my respects to PFC Wickline and the Netherlands American Cemetery.

So, we did. Saturday, July 19th we left Paris by train and traveled across Belgium arriving at the Schiphol train station to rent a car for the day.

The journey took longer than I anticipated with a few wrong turns adding to our travel.

I may have found a bench for a future post….

We arrived after a little after four and with a closing time of five o’clock my visit was hurried. After a brisk walk and nervous few moments when I realized I had incorrectly interpreted the cemetery’s grid system for locating a burial plot; I found Wickline’s final resting place.

I took a few pictures and spent a moment of prayer and reflection.

I had so many questions, with no one to answer them. Like my students from 2019 I was filled with humbleness and awe.

As I write and reflect, I know that this story could fill a book. Maybe one day this might happen, but there is more I need to learn, more I need to see and in the words of eighth graders from 2019…

What’s one important thing you learned in class today?

    • I learned that there are good people in the world that will do the utmost to make sure someone is given recognition
    • i learned that it is very important to remember our fallen soldiers and the “perfect (I think he meant ‘greatest’) generation”. I also learned that if you put your mind to it you can do anything.
    • I learned that you don’t have to contribute something big to be a hero. Heroes come from many things.

I don’t think I could have said it better.

I’ve been working on this post for a long while and I am setting it to go live midday on September 17, 1944. The day PFC Wickline jumped from a c-47 in Operation Market Garden 81 years ago today and his parachute didn’t open.

“May we never forget the sacrifice of those who gave their lives for our freedom.”

Making the days Count, one day at a time, telling the story of someone’s life to inspire others.

For more of the story, I have added videos about the cemetery and dedication ceremony for the PFC James E. Wickline Memorial Bridge in Osage, West Virginia.

twenty-one years later

Twenty-one years ago, this morning, I was welcoming my seventh graders into my geography classroom. It was early in the year in the year, and we were building routines and learning. I was learning their names and faces and the lesson for the day was the water cycle.

The water cycle courtesy of National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration

I don’t remember the first two classes, but I do remember when a counselor came into the classroom towards the end of the second class, about 9:20 AM or so. She waited until the class ended, the third period class had entered, and settled and until after the bell had rung and then she made the announcement that earlier in the morning America had been attacked. Her message was scripted and every classroom in our school go the same message at the same time.

I don’t remember the exact text of the message, but I can close my eyes and go back to room B111 on September 11, 2001 and picture the layout of the room on that morning.

On nine-eleven two thousand one, I was 39 and my students were 12.

This past spring, I began volunteering regularly at Loaves and Fishes on Thursday after school. I had been volunteering on Saturdays since early 2020, but I decided to add a new day. Soon, I had been asked to be the lead volunteer for my part of the operation on Thursday afternoon. Loaves and Fishes is a wonderful place, and I am thankful to be part of an organization that helps people in need, especially when the cost of groceries and gasoline have increased significantly. I have also discovered a community of people who care about others, and I have met several parents of former students who volunteer for the organization. It’s a small world.

It was the last day of school and summer had begun when I walked into the market at Loaves and Fishes for my Thursday afternoon shift.

I saw Michelle and we greeted each other, and she shared a story with me. It went something like this:

Michelle – you teach at Scullen, right?
Me – yes, I do.
Michelle – Do remember Judy? She was the nurse.
Me – Yes, I remember Judy and I remember having her son Joey in class. It’s been a log time.
Michelle – I was at a going away party last weekend for Judy. She’s retired and moving to Wisconsin, and I mentioned I had me you at Loaves and Fishes. She remembered you and we were talking, and Allison overheard us and joined our conversation, do remember her?
Me – yes, I do. I do remember that name – it was our first year at the school and we were all new.
Michelle – well, she remembers you.
Me – WOW. Really? I remember her, too. I hadn’t thought about that name since she was in my class. That’s a long time ago.
Michelle – yes, it was and she does. She told the two of us that every year on 9/11, she remembers being in your class and being scared and that you were calm and reassured her and the class that everything would be okay.
Me – WOW (and at this point I am beginning to tear up)
Michelle – Ally’s married and has two kids and lives in the area.
Me – We all grow up, thank you for telling me this.

That’s how I remember our conversation and it’s stuck with me since.

This summer I started my baseball trip in New York City. The first game was Sunday at Yankee Stadium and after the game I drove to Washington, D. C. for another game. I returned Tuesday for third game and the possibility of visiting the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum. Unfortunately, the museum was closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at the time I was in New York City. But I figured I could at least visit the Memorial before I left for my Philadelphia and game four.

Tuesday night I set alarm for early Wednesday morning, before sunrise. My plan was to walk to the memorial which was less than a mile away from my hotel. It was early morning twilight, and I was surrounded by tall buildings blocking much of the light. New York City was beginning to waken, even though I suspect the city never sleeps, it’s always moving. Cars, buses, and trucks were beginning start the day and few people were walking with me. Some going to work and other heading home.

I passed a church that was refuge on 9/11 and the days after as people sought comfort. Continue reading twenty-one years later

at rest, in peace

I began writing this post two weeks ago in Cincinnati, Ohio and didn’t finish in the time I had. I started writing after the Reds game Friday night and worked on polishing it in the coffee shop Saturday morning. But I couldn’t quite find the right words or flow. It was the last full day of my epic baseball trip and I wanted to make it on time to Cleveland, so I stopped and crafted a different post.

Of all the cities and stadiums, I visited on my trip, Pittsburgh was my favorite. I felt connected from the moment I arrived, I felt welcome, I felt home.

PNC Park and the Pittsburgh Skyline, the yellow bridge is the Roberto Clemente Bridge dedicated after his death in 1973.

Before I left Pittsburgh, I visited my paternal grandparents. They are buried in a beautiful cemetery to the south of the city center. I had intended to visit them before the game, but I was late leaving Philadelphia. The cemetery where they lay at rest, in eternal peace, was in the general direction I was traveling. So, it was a win-win. I could visit them and get closer to Friday’s destination, Cincinnati.

my grandfather with me on the left and my Warren on the right. 1964, Bay City, Texas

My grandfather died in 1971 at the age of fifty-two. I was nine years old and remember the summer evening we learned of his death. He died peacefully on July 17, 1971.

It’s funny the things you remember from your childhood and growing up. Continue reading at rest, in peace

still silent, Stille Nacht

It’s Christmas morning and Fern and I are the only ones awake, really I am the only one awake. Fern is curled up in her favorite chair overlooking the lawn and the lake. It was grandmas favorite spot, though the chair has changed. Grandma passed away a little more
than five years ago but her memory lives on.

our Christmas tree with the reflection of the fireplace in the window… Merry Christmas…

We drove north to the lake Wednesday morning. O drove one car with Fern and B and I took another with Ivy. We’ve spent the last couple of days readying the cottage for Christmas and it looks and feels like Christmas. Snow is gently falling and all is silent on the lake and in the cottage.

This morning I came across a memory and tweeted it….


And I went back and re-read my post about reading the story to my mother-in-law. Please read, if you have time – Stille Nacht. Continue reading still silent, Stille Nacht

Father’s Day – 2020

It’s Father’s Day and I am in northern Mississippi visiting with my stepmother. Last year on Father’s Day, I was on my way home from visiting her.

My father died 11 years ago this summer after a fall and a brief illness, and I began writing a year later.

My stepmother had been living independently in Mississippi since he died. Neither my father nor my stepmother is native to Mississippi, but they decided to relocate here after my father retired in 1998. It’s a beautiful town and they have a lovely home.

However, this past winter that independence came to an end after a fall and brief hospitalization. I am grateful that my brothers and I were successful in moving her into an assisted living facility before the COVID19 lockdown shutdown the country.

But life is full of next steps, our next step is convincing her that living in northern Mississippi 621 miles from me in Illinois, 621 miles from one of my Texas brothers, and 630 miles from my other Texas brother is no longer sustainable, especially in the time of COVID19.

visiting on her porch – social distancing and being safe.

Tough conversations. Much like the conversations my dad and I had years ago.

Life is full of twists and turns; it’s full of beginnings and endings where one ending is a new beginning. Continue reading Father’s Day – 2020

In the beginning…

Merry Christmas.

I was 7 years old when the photo above was taken. Every time I see it, I remember listening to the Apollo 8 astronauts reading the first ten verses of Genesis as their space capsule orbited the moon. I can remember sitting in front of the black and white television in my pajamas with my two brothers. I was in first grade and enamored with the American space program.

50 years later, I am still amazed by what lies beyond Earth. The past few weeks, I have awakened early in the morning to see Venus brightly illuminating the pre-dawn sky. The sun brightly illuminating the sky. This morning, it was a reminder of what lies beyond.

Each time I see the moon, I marvel at the achievements of America’s space program – despite what a professional basketball player recently denied, men did reach the moon and return safely.

But today, I marvel at the photo and the possibilities that exist for our world. As Bill Anders, one of the three Apollo 8 astronauts, remarked,

“We came to explore the moon and what we discovered was the Earth,”

Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders
Continue reading In the beginning…

3C’s for Sunday

It’s Sunday morning and school is in full bloom and my bucket is full, in fact it’s overflowing. Trying to rationalize how time will be spent between the ‘want to dos,’ ‘need to-dos,’ and ‘have to dos’ is the challenge to leading a balanced life. I am thankful to the time I devoted this past summer break for helping me develop a new habit of starting the day with 20 minutes devoted to thinking about what happened yesterday, what will happen today, and how it will shape tomorrow. It’s in line with my first thing…

my Sunday morning view from the deck…

Curiosity
It takes curiosity to Make the Days Count. I am naturally a curious person and according to my principal in 2014, that’s why he picked me to teach 8th grade science. This is my fourth year as a science teacher and I finally feel like I really know what I am doing. It all comes back to that trait – curiosity and wonder. Last August, in 2016, I wrote a post about the 100 most influential Americans. I promised to reveal who the nine Americans I chose for my classroom were, I never did until this post. Continue reading 3C’s for Sunday

memory, never forget

16 years ago, this morning, my day was just beginning. It was my son’s first day of school.

our flag flies at half-mast today,

I was teaching geography, the water cycle to be exact. It was the end of second period when she walked into my room. She looked nervous. The bell rang, the students left, and another class walked in, sat down, and then she spoke. It was a prepared statement. When she was finished, she left the room and took the air right out of that room with her.

Our lives changed in that instant. It was quiet and we waited.

But our lives moved on, we learned to help others and be tolerant and work together. Sometimes it was easy, and other times very difficult. But we’ve moved forward and we look back. Abraham Lincoln wrote,

“The past is the cause of the present, and the present will be the cause of the future.”

It’s been 16 years. This morning, I’ll teach science and U.S. History to 8th graders who hadn’t been born when it happened. I’ll share my passion to learn and grow daily, even just a little. I’ll share the video below with my U.S. History class and speak every name aloud.

16 years later, my son is in college and he has faint memories of the morning, mostly from listening to our stories – he was 3 years 7 months 10 days old. But, I’ll never forget and every time I teach the water cycle, I remember.

I am a teacher. I am a servant leading with my heart, following with my head.

I am passionate, curious, persistent, thoughtful, energetic, positive, dedicated, caring, driven, faithful, thankful and grateful, tenacious, innovative, creative, courageous, strong, always learning, hard-working, diligent, patient (well, sometimes) understanding, inquisitive, old-school, and loving.

It’s gonna be a great day. I know I will make a difference today, and every day forward. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, one little step followed by another.

What will you day to make today a great day?

duck butts

It’s Wednesday morning and all’s quiet on the lake. The middle of July is usually the quietest time on the lake; it’s after the fourth and before the race. Only a handful of folks are here, just us, the ducks, and the sea gulls.

there were duck butts, but their butts are moving away from shore (and me)

Yesterday I started a post and didn’t finish it – it will remain unfinished. I was sitting on the deck beneath the umbrella enjoying the quiet of the late morning. At first, Ivy was content to lay at my feet. But she soon began to whine and beg to get into the lake. She loves the lake. The lake is shallow enough for her to walk and patrol the shore. I put her on her tether and kept an eye on her while I wrote. I wrote and she searched for fish in the water. I had to venture into the water a couple of times to untangle her – she tends to circle back tangling the tether on the dock or the boat lifts. The third time out, I moved her tether to the See-doo anchor post and returned to my writing.

Ivy and the ducks – she fished and they quacked

Soon, my peaceful spot by the lake ended with the arrival of a paddling of ducks. Continue reading duck butts

heritage – a photo challenge

The interesting thing about our heritage is that we don’t get to choose it, it’s been selected for us and we have to wear and share it forward, or it ends.

Today, May 20 would’ve been my dad’s 84th birthday. I was looking for a photo to post on Facebook and I found a flash drive loaded with photos I had scanned on a visit home in August ‘11. I found family photos ranging from before I was born until my early twenties. It brought back memories. I remember that trip home as if it was the other day. Where have I been? – August ‘11.

my parent’s wedding day photo – left to right back row – my mother’s mother, her father’s mother, her father, my father’s mother and father. Front row – my mother’s sister – Joy, my mother and father, and my mother’s sister’s boyfriend – Frank

One of the photos I found was my parent’s wedding photo. They were married September 1, 1960. It was the same date as my mother’s parents wedding date 33 years before. Continue reading heritage – a photo challenge