There’s an old saying: “Poor is the Nation that has no heroes, but beggared is the Nation that has and forgets them.”
But tell me: what are we to make of a prospective nation that counts among its heroes a suicide bomber and terrorist who committed mass murder – and erects a public monument to them?
I just don’t get it.
. . . but this one is a bit different.
Seems that in a city – I’ll name it in a bit – someone went into a restaurant and shot up the place. Several were wounded, and two have died so far.
Authorities believe the shooting to be gang-related. It’s thought that an automatic weapon was involved.
However, this isn’t a good news story. The perps got away; there was no one on the scene with a weapon to confront them. And no: that’s not because the restaurant had declared itself to be a “no gun zone”.
It’s because the shooting happened in Goteborg, the second largest city in Sweden – or, as someone we “know and love” might spell it, “Sweaden”. (smile) One of those calm, safe, “nanny-state” countries in Europe that US gun control advocates keep holding up as the “model we need to emulate”.
There was no one to oppose the shooter because Sweden’s firearms laws make it exceptionally difficult to obtain a permit for concealed carry. While firearms ownership is legal, virtually all firearms ownership requires a permit (a few exceptions – including weapons made before 1890 which do not use “gas-tight unit cartridges” and air rifles – require no permit). The number of firearms that may be owned is restricted unless one can demonstrate a “valid reason” for owning more.
Even carrying a weapon in public in Sweden is in general unlawful unless for a “specific, legal purpose” such as hunting or going to a gun range. Concealed carry permits are rarely issued to anyone except police and “specially-trained security officers” – and only then when one can demonstrate compelling need, such as a “proven and very real threat to one’s life”.
Yet the incident happened in Sweden anyway – in spite of Sweden’s rather severe restrictions on firearms. And the article goes on to state that violence involving firearms is “is not uncommon in Sweden’s major cities”, though incidents such as this one are said to be “rare”.
Sounds like criminals in Sweden pay about as much attention to gun laws as criminals here. So, pray tell: what makes our “liberal brethren” think new gun control laws here will work any better than they do today in Sweden in preventing gun crime?
Another bit of America’s past is gone.
Al Rosen – MLB star of the 1950s, and later team executive with the Yankees, Astros, and Giants – passed away last Friday. He was 91.
Rosen was no slouch as a player. He played for 10 years, all with the Cleveland Indians organization. He had a career batting average of .285, drove in 100 runs 5 times, and was an AL All-Star 4 times. Rosen was his league’s unanimous MVP in 1953, leading the AL in RBI and home runs. He missed the triple crown that year when he finished second in batting average – by slightly more than .001 – in spite of finishing with a batting average of .336.
During his rookie season, Rosen hit 37 home runs; this stood as the rookie-season record until Mark McGwire hit 49 as a rookie in 1987. He was also regarded as an exceptional defensive third baseman. Unfortunately, back and leg injuries forced him from the game after the 1956 season at age 32.
After his playing career, for 22 years Rosen was a stockbroker. Then in 1978 he returned to baseball, becoming a successful baseball executive. He had front-office roles with the Yankees (President/CEO, 1978-1979), Astros (President/CEO, 1980-1985), and Giants (President and General Manager, 1985-1992). During his time with the Giants Rosen’s efforts were credited with helping improve them from a last-place team in 1985 to a World Series team in 1989.
In 1989 Rosen was selected as the NL Executive of the Year. He is the only individual in MLB history to be selected both his league MVP as a player and Executive of the Year.
Rosen retired from baseball a second time in 1992. However, he still afterwards on occasion acted as a consultant for various baseball teams; this included a role as a Special Assistant to the General Manager for the Yankees in 2001-2002.
In case you’re wondering why this article is here . . . as you might expect for someone of his age, Rosen was also a vet. He enlisted in the US Navy in 1942 and served until 1946, mostly in the Pacific. He participated in the invasion of Okinawa, serving as navigator for an assault boat during the initial landings. He left the Navy as a Lieutenant.
Rosen was Jewish, and was proud (and very protective) of his religious heritage. Though more famous for doing so, Koufax was not the first prominent Jewish MLB player to refuse to play during Judaism’s high holy days; Rosen did the same a decade earlier. His nicknames during his playing days were “the Hebrew Hammer” and “Flip”. The latter is the source of this article’s title.
RIP, my elder brother-in-arms. There are far too few of your generation left today.
Still . . . you certainly had a wonderful, All-American life. I can’t help but be a bit envious.
These two tunes from the 80s have always resonated with me. And other than to say that the imagery is perhaps a bit dated and a touch overdone . . . that’s all I’ll say about them.
Except enjoy – perhaps with a tissue handy.
Eleven members of the military – four Soldiers and seven Marines – are missing and feared dead. They were the crew and passengers, respectively, of a UH-60 from the Louisiana ARNG. The Marines involved were from MARSOC at Camp Lejune, NC.
The aircraft apparently crashed while participating in nightime insertion and extraction training at Eglin AFB, FL. The cause of the incident has not yet been determined.
Aircraft wreckage and some remains have been recovered to date. While rescue operations continued last night, at this point . . . frankly it doesn’t look good.
Fox News has an article with more details.
Sometime people ask why the military is different from other jobs. This is an example why.
Rest in peace, brothers-in-arms. May God comfort your surviving family and friends.
Jonn wrote an article yesterday discussing how at least some VA employees “don’t get it”. If you still have doubts that the VA has a cultural problem – well, here’s yet another indicator that it does.
One of our regular commenters sent me this photo some time ago. The photo was taken last May at the Compensation and Pension (C&P) office of a VA facility the individual visits periodically.
In case it’s difficult to read, the cartoon’s caption reads, “Hello! How can I not help u“.
As of about a month ago, the photo was still there. I’m guessing it’s probably still there today.
My guess is the cartoon is a somewhat misguided attempt at humor – much like the antics Jonn talked about yesterday. Now, Lord knows I’ve got nothing against humor, even offbeat or dark humor. A humorless place to work is . . . brutal.
But I don’t think this is appropriate for someone whose job involved dealing with the public. Anywhere.
An “honest mistake” involving “poor English skills” IMO isn’t to blame here, either. A person would have to be monumentally stupid to truly not understand the message that cartoon and caption sends.
So . . . that photo IMO indicates a cultural problem. It does so in at least a couple of ways.
First: why would any employee – government or private-sector – serving the public think it’s OK to display that cartoon where the public they’re paid to serve could see it? I mean, really.
Sure, the individual posting such a cartoon – and their coworkers – might “get” the joke. But how about members of the public meeting them for the first time? What are they going to think? Maybe the next person to see them takes it as a joke; maybe not.
And speaking of their coworkers: didn’t any of them think to say anything – either to their coworker, or to their supervisor? Did they all think this was “just fine and dandy”?
Let’s just say this is not exactly my idea of how to make a good first impression on the public you’re paid to serve.
Second – and in my view, more significantly: the cartoon remained displayed in plain view of customers for at least roughly 9 months, and likely longer. That means VA management at the facility is either (1) OK with that cartoon being displayed where it can be seen; (2) completely oblivious to what’s going on at their facility; or (3) are too damn lazy to do their jobs as supervisors.
Any of those conditions being true is IMO a Real Problem – and yes, the capital “R” and “P” here is intentional. It’s one that needs to be fixed, pronto.
No, this really isn’t a “firing offense”. But it’s something that needs to be corrected, as well an indicator of bigger problems. IMO, it’s an indicator the VA’s organizational culture needs some changes.
Seeing stuff like this – and the stuff Jonn wrote about yesterday, and the recent “imprecise statement” from the VA Secretary concerning his military record – makes me think it’s gonna be a while before the VA un-f**ks itself, at least on the admin side. It takes time to fix a bad organizational culture. And doing that generally requires replacing a fair number of the incumbents holding leadership positions, too.
OK, take a guess. How many people in the US are over 112 years old?
C’mon – guess. 100? 1,000? 5,000? maybe even 10,000?
Nope. You’re way low.
According to the Social Security Administration, there are 6.5 million. Well, at least that’s how many active Social Security “accounts” exist for with birth dates of 16 June 1901 or earlier – indicating the individual has a current age of 113 or older.
Gee, that’s odd. In 2010, there were less than 53,500 persons in the USA that were documented to be even 100 years old. They sure got a lot older in only 5 years – and they multiplied, too!
I wish I was joking about the SSA being so out-to-lunch here. But I’m not.
The reason for this bit of idiocy? Those conducting the audit – from the SSA’s Officer of the Inspector General – “concluded that SSA lacks the controls necessary to annote death information on the records of number-holders who exceed ‘maximum reasonable life expectancies.’ ”
And, yes – as you might have guessed, some of those “account numbers” do indeed appear to be being used for unlawful purposes.
Apu the Hindu was right. We are truly screwed.
The following is not fiction. But first, a bit of background.
I’d also suggest grabbing a Kleenex or two.
. . .
Depending on which source you consult, there are either six or eight Celtic nations. Five of the six commonly-accepted ones are the Irish, Welsh, Bretons, Scots, and the original inhabitants of the Isle of Man.
The sixth commonly-accepted Celtic nation is the Cornish: the inhabitants of Cornwall, the south-westernmost part of Great Britain. Though today part of England, the people there are of Celtic origin; they are descendants of the Celtic Cornovii tribe. They are today a recognized minority nationality within Great Britain.
They were referred to in early English accounts as the “West Welsh”. Their culture, though Anglicized, is considered to be based on Celtic vice Anglo-Saxon traditions.
Celtic peoples have traditionally been considered brave, stouthearted people, both in peace and war. The Cornish are no exception.
Though small in population and area, Cornwall has produced a number of persons of noted accomplishment. This article deals with one of them.
. . .
Roughly 100 days before the start of World War II, a boy was born in a small town in Cornwall.
During the war, his hometown was headquarters to a US Army unit preparing for D-Day – as were many other towns in the UK. The boy came to idolize the GIs. His association with them led to his desire to be a soldier.
The boy grew to be a young man. He was gifted athletically, was smart and perceptive, and was charismatic.
At age 16, he left home to join the Army. At 17, he joined and trained with the British Parachute Regiment. He then served in an intel assignment in Cyprus between 1957 and 1960.
It was hardly a quiet assignment. This was during the height of the EKOA insurgency in Cyprus.
At the end of this assignment, the man accepted an assignment as a paramilitary police inspector for the Northern Rhodesia Police – today, the Zambia Police Service. He served there from 1960-1963.
This assignment changed his life – again, at least in part due to the presence of an American soldier. In Northern Rhodesia the Cornish man became lifelong friends with a US soldier who was there at the time. He also developed a lifelong hatred of Communism.
In 1963, the Cornish man returned to England and became a policeman for a short time. He then emigrated to America. Accounts vary whether it was because “Britain is fresh out of wars” or not. But his hatred of Communism was indeed part of the reason.
Since World War II, he’d always wanted to be a soldier. Now, he again became one – for his new country. He joined the US Army.
The Army saw potential in the young British immigrant. They sent him to OCS, and then to Vietnam.
In Vietnam, unlike most new “90 day wonders” he actually knew what he was doing. (That stands to reason, since before going to Vietnam he had close to 6 years of military and/or paramilitary experience during times of hostilities – including 3 years in the African bush.) He was tactically proficient, leading from the front; he maintained a hard but upbeat attitude that was infectious. He was also a calming influence during combat. During truly nasty times, he sang to his men to keep their spirits up and to keep their mind off their peril.
He was highly decorated during his time in Vietnam, earning the Silver Star and Bronze Star for Valor. He was WIA and received the Purple Heart.
He also cared deeply for his men. If they were wounded, he’d spend time with them, trying to reassure them.
He did this even when they were mortally wounded.
After Vietnam, the man became a US citizen. But not long after that, he left active duty – though it was obvious he was destined for high rank if he stayed. Many who knew him think dealing with the loss of his troops in combat was what finally led him to leave active service after Vietnam. He simply couldn’t stand the thought of losing any more of his men.
The man went to school, earning a degree, then a law degree. He taught college. And the man remained in the Army Reserve. He retired from the Army Reserve in 1990 – as a Colonel.
In many cases, that would be the end – early active duty including war, retirement from the Army Reserve after a successful career, then a quiet normal life thereafter.
But for this man, that was wasn’t the case at all.
. . .
In the mid-1980s, the man decided to return to the security business from academia. He became chief of security for a large Wall Street firm.
That firm had offices in the World Trade Center. The man was worried; he thought that the building was insecure, and that his charges were at risk.
He contacted his old friend from his days in Northern Rhodesia – that same US soldier who’d been instrumental in convincing him to come to America in the first place. The two of them inspected the building from a security perspective.
His friend told him that the parking garage was the primary place of vulnerability. He pointed out that the major load-bearing columns supporting the building were exposed there. He also said that a truck full of explosives could be parked next to one of them, and might bring down the building.
If this sounds eerily familiar – it should. That’s precisely what happened several months afterwards – in February, 1993, during the World Trade Center bombing. The Cornish man and his friend had been unable to convince those managing World Trade Center security to implement adequate security measures for their parking garage.
In the aftermath, though the tower did not collapse 6 persons were killed; over a thousand were injured; and the building suffered serious damage. A larger bomb using better explosives (the one used was estimated to have been only around 600kg of improvised ANFO explosive) could well have dropped the tower.
Adequate security measures for the parking garage were implemented afterwards.
. . .
The Cornish man was still worried, however. He thought that the attack would be repeated; he just didn’t know how. So he again reached out to his former Army friend, and asked him his opinion on how a future attack would occur.
His friend, after viewing the building’s physical security, predicted an attack from the air. He specifically predicted that the World Trade Center would likely be rammed by a cargo plane, possibly carrying explosives or some form of non-nuclear WMD, and would cause the building to collapse.
Yeah. Really.
The man from Cornwall tried to get his employer to move the firm’s offices to a complex outside the World Trade Center. Unfortunately, their lease ran through 2006 – so the move would be delayed that long.
As chief of security, the Cornish man did what he could. He implemented regular emergency evacuation drills, and convinced management to back them. They were inconvenient, yes. But the man from Cornwall was resolute – he knew somehow that a future attack would come, and that they’d be needed. And management kept backing him.
. . .
The Cornish man had developed cancer. And by 2001, he was 62 years old.
His daughter was getting married in mid-September of that year. However, one of his subordinates had planned an overseas family vacation including at least part of the second full week in September. The Cornish man was covering for his subordinate until he returned.
He was thus at the World Trade Center on the morning of 11 September 2001 – in Tower 2. He heard the impact of the first plane striking Tower 1, then saw it burning.
World Trade Center authorities advised everyone to shelter in place. The Cornish man’s response to that order has been variously reported as being typically British – and rather coarse. The rough equivalent of his actual words appears to be, “Screw that, I’m getting my people out of here.”
The evacuation began prior to the second plane hitting Tower 2. Fortunately, that plane hit above the floors on which their firm’s offices were located. The building shook violently, but held; the evacuation continued.
During the evacuation, as he’d done in Vietnam the Cornish man sang to those evacuating – to calm them, and to keep their mind off the danger and on more immediate matters. As before . . . it worked.
His employer had nearly 2,700 personnel who worked at the World Trade Center complex. All but a handful of them – various accounts put the total lost from his company at between 6 and 13 – got out alive.
When the vast majority of people from his firm had been evacuated, the man from Cornwall was told by a colleague he needed to evacuate himself now. His response? “As soon as I make sure everyone else is out”.
The Cornish man was last seen on the 10th floor of the South tower, heading upward. Shortly thereafter, the South Tower collapsed.
His remains were never found.
. . .
Why does an individual do something like this? How do they find the strength of will, and the guts, to face virtually certain death to save others when they have an honorable “out”?
Honestly, I don’t know. IMO it’s simply off the scale of normal human behavior.
Perhaps the man feared he was eventually going to die from cancer, and that emboldened his acts that day. A cynic might even say he chose intentionally to end his life quickly, and took foolish chances that day because he had little to lose.
Perhaps that was a part of it; perhaps not. However, I don’t really think so. I think the man from Cornwall simply felt it was his duty to get everyone out of that building that he could.
Remember: he was chief of security for his company, and this was an emergency. He was therefore the site commander; everyone else there that day were his troops. He was simply doing his duty – and taking care of his troops.
. . .
The Cornish man’s given name was Cyril. He didn’t much care for it, and on joining the British army chose to go by a diminutive form of his middle name – “Rick”, short for Richard.
His full birth name was “Cyril Richard Rescorla”. Much has been written about him. I’ll not attempt to list those various sources here; a quick Internet search will yield more than I care to list. But reading even a fraction of that will show I’ve only scratched the surface concerning his life and heroism. He truly was an example for all – and a living definition of the word “hero”.
Here are two rather famous photos of the man. The first shows him as a young man:
Yes, this was indeed the same “Rick Rescorla” who fought at the Battle of Ia Drang in 1965. That’s his photo on the cover of “We Were Soldiers Once . . . And Young.”
The second photo, nearly as iconic, was taken nearly 36 years later during the evacuation of the World Trade Center. It shows him in action that day – as well as the bloating caused by some of the anti-cancer treatments he’d been taking:
. . .
There is a theory that some men are simply not destined to die in bed, but are fated instead to die on their feet. Perhaps that’s true.
If that’s true, Rick Rescorla was certainly one such man.
Rest in peace, Colonel. In the words of a great British poet: “You’re a better man than I am.”
(Author’s note: the title of this article comes from the last telephone conversation between Rescorla and his second wife, which occurred as he was evacuating the Morgan-Stanley offices in the World Trade Center complex. The full quote from which that is taken is as follows:
“Stop crying. I have to get these people out safely.
If something should happen to me, I want you to know I’ve never been happier. You made my life.”
At the time of his death, Rescorla and his second wife Susan had been married just over 2 1/2 years.)