Acting silly after a swim.

Grandson agrees that the sand is fine!

Hubby Jeff is a travel planner extraordinaire. He manages to figure out the ultimate itineraries at the lowest cost and highest fun ratios.
A couple of years ago, we discovered Galveston TX when we went down to Houston for a BYU football game. I was impressed!
I’ve seen beautiful beaches. . .(I think Manuel Antonio State Park in Costa Rica wins top spot,) and I grew up near the wide, sun-bleached beaches on the Monterey Bay of CA
Galveston won’t win any beauty contests. It probably won’t enter.
BUT, the beaches of Galveston island have some features that make it worth the drive.
1. The water is a pleasant temperature. No shock but still refreshing.
2. The waves are big enough to body surf, boogie board.
3. I’ve never seen a crowded beach anywhere in TX
4. The sand is extremely fine which makes it perfect for sandcastles and comfortable barefoot walking
5. They’re pretty clean. There had been a major storm through the area right before we went, and there were beach cleaners there first thing in the morning.

A cross wave is about to dump me into the drink. . .again. I had been out beyond the breakers and was riding them back. This is Scott’s sit-on-top kayak. Sit-in kayaks don’t work with surf without skirts because they don’t self-bail like the sea kayaks do.  We tried them and they sank!

6.They’re free.

Grandsons enjoy the water

The timing of this trip turned out to be sketchy. Tropical Storm “Bill” had just passed through the area and roared right up the freeway we needed to use to drive to Galveston. The last time we were there, we drove home in 7 1/2 hours and this time, with a I-35 flooded and all traffic rerouted 30 miles to the east, to say nothing of the single lane bridge that both north and south traffic had to share over a flooding river, it took us 11 hours. We had just finished with the detour and stopped for gas when the rental agency we’d booked the beach house with, (HomeAway) called us and said that “the house was double booked, . .they’d been trying and trying to get ahold of us for two weeks.” Actually they’d called twice on the same day three weeks earlier in the middle of the workday and didn’t leave a message. 

We paddled around the point of Jamaica Beach (into Galveston Bay) to get to the marsh. It was teeming with wildlife and the fish threatened to jump right into our kayaks. (Son Daniel has lots of sunscreen on his pate)

Son Scott pulls his kayak from the canal with Son-in law Walt’s help while Jeff paddles up to the house we rented in Jamaica Beach, TX.

A cute little sitting room off the kitchen.

Kimberly and Lindsay chat it up on the beach while wearing their youngests.

The light house on Bolivar Island. Contrary to popular belief, lighthouses are used for navigation, not to mark rocks. A ship uses a lighthouse, sextant, and charts to find a channel or harbor entrance, or to locate hazards.

I have a number of families who have agreed to participate. This post is by one of the (now grownup) children herself. She’s changed the names to protect privacy. Because of a technical glitch, I’m posting this before I have the complete document. I’ll post the rest (and remove this note) as soon as she re-sends it. I think you’ll find it compelling. I did!

In the book, “The Angel’s Song” the child’s situation is a composite of what we learned as we were trained and certified to be foster parents. But in my mind’s eye, I always saw that little wisp of a girl.
When we decided to become foster-adopt parents, we knew from the cursory research that children who have been sexually molested often act out some of the behaviors either with other children or have a propensity to be promiscuous when they are sexually mature. It was more risk than we were able to take with six boys in our family already.
We also learned all about attachment disorders. Children can be charming and sweet and are often extremely affectionate. The clue that it could be a problem is when it is indiscriminate. They’re likely to be hugging and kissing a total stranger if they think that is what the stranger wants. They have no protective boundaries.
Attachments are formed very early in infancy. Each time a parent comforts a crying infant, that infant learns that the parent is there to protect and provide and learns to trust. Both the parent and child “attach” to the other emotionally through serving and being served. If this doesn’t happen, children don’t learn to discern between right and wrong, safe and unsafe, nor do they respect authority. They struggle to form emotional attachments of any kind.
(I think the trend to keep babies in car seats for much of their infancy may have serious emotional ramifications in later life for those infants because of a weaker attachment.) (And with a degree in English, I’m imminently qualified to suggest that outcome.)
Little Charlene was six, almost 7 when she came into her adoptive home. She explained to me recently that she has little memory of her birth mother. “I remember my mom’s boyfriends. . .” she let her voice trail off.
 She did remember going to the neighbors and begging for food, especially ice cream. “I’d always ask for ice cream and they’d give it to me. They’d give me anything I asked for.”
Tami respected both her child’s rights to privacy and never explained what specifically caused Charlene to be removed from her mother’s custody. But she did comment that Charlene was very undersized by the time she came to them for a reason.
 Tami’s the sort of body type that would take a big drink of water before she was weighed at the doctor. I remember her complaining once that short people are sometimes “overlooked” (pardon the pun) as they wait in a line or in other situations where it seemed that larger bodies were given or took right of way. It seemed like an advantage in the placement that the little gal was well-matched physically to her mom.
Charlene remembers being in two other foster homes (before the final placement) and liking to  play with all the kids.
As I understand the way the program in most states works, children that are removed from their natal homes  are either placed temporarily with the expectation of them returning when whatever caused the crisis is resolved, or into the foster adopt program. Children go into the foster-adopt program when the Department of Human Service Case workers and other professionals determine that the chances of the parents or other relatives being able and willing to provide a safe home for the child are very low.
Yet, even if a child is considered to be in a foster-adopt program, the parents/relatives are still given ample opportunity (when feasible) to do what is necessary to be reunited with the child or children.
Charlene’s case was such that she went directly into the foster-adopt program.
She was placed with a family and lived with them for some period of time. (She doesn’t know how long)Her understanding was that they intended to adopt her. She doesn’t know exactly what happened, but one day they told her that they were moving and since you can’t move a foster child out of state, they were “giving her back.”
“They just said they were moving and couldn’t take me with them,” she repeated.
The next foster home was a temporary home, a “receiving” or short term fostering situation. There are foster parents who accept children that are in crisis and they expect to have them only briefly. Charlene remembers that home fondly, that there were lots of children to play with. She was with that foster mom when Tami first met her at the school and Tami knew she was “the little girl we’d been waiting for.”
“I was a little nervous about being in a big family,” Charlene recalls. “Mainly wondering if they would keep me. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to being around lots of kids.”
There is a waiting period of between six months and year, depending on the circumstances, before an adoption can be finalized. Charlene’s adoption was finalized at the earliest possible date and she seemed completely assimilated into her family. As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, after the adoption was legalized in court, she went with her parents to the temple where she was sealed into their family by priesthood power. It’s a short prayer or blessing that promises that the family bonds and covenants with God to his children will last forever.
She seemed completely happy and healthy, showing herself to be very bright and sweet tempered until the teens hit. “I went pretty crazy,” she admits.
Her teen struggles will wait for another post. But in our recent conversation, she recalls, “My mom taught me how to be a mom. I tortured her and betrayed her trust so many times, but she set such a good example for me. I owe her the world. I want to give my kids what my parents gave me. They love me. We’re making progress. It will take time after everything I did.”

In the meantime, another young woman who was rescued from her birth mother as a newborn will write next Friday’s post. I hope she’ll share the circumstances of hers and her brother’s  rescue and more in depth what it felt like to grow up in a home where she and her brother were not biologically related to the rest of her siblings and parents. She will be writing with a pseudonym to protect her family’s privacy.

Monday’s post will be: “I’ve finally figured out “Why Polygamy in the earliest days of the Church?: It’s the pattern of Prophets.” Spoiler alert: I’m pretty certain you’ve never thought of my conclusions. . .and I’m pretty sure I’m (at least partially) right. It was an epiphany for me after thinking, and studying for years.

If you click on the “follow by email” button, you’ll get a note in your email when there’s a new post on CCC. I’d be honored! When Blogger changed some of their policies, somehow all the old followers were shaved off. So even if you were once a follower, you are probably not now unless you’ve “re-upped” in the last few weeks. I still haven’t made the change to wordpress. . .but I’m assured that when I do, the followers should/could/might stay attached. We’ll see!

 

      

When we fully intend to offend:
We’ve all heard it. Most of us have said it.
1.  “I don’t mean to offend, but you look hideous in that color.”
2.”I don’t mean to offend, but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
3.”You should think before you open your mouth, no offense.”
4.”You’d have to be an idiot to believe that, no offense.”
The most recent one I read was on a Mormon page on Facebook where someone actually wrote:
5. “I just don’t want to be frumpy and (I don’t remember the other adjective) like Mormon women are, no offense.”
I’ve heard each of these types of statements actually drivel (a new verb today!) from intelligent human beings’ mouths. “No offense” is like a hashtag for “I’m about to say the cruelest, most cutting thing you can imagine, but I don’t want you to hold me accountable for being mean and hateful.”

I hereby call for a ban on those words! Let’s substitute instead the honest impulse they imply.


I found this box turtle in my back yard last week. He has hinges on his chest and abdomen that can close. He clams up when he feels threatened. A wise creature, I think!

 Wouldn’t the world be a grand place if people decoded their rude words into simple English? Now who could be insulted if someone walked up to them and said, “I think your intelligence is so formidable that I lose confidence in disagreeing and am tempted to insult you instead.”?

 NOBODY! We’d want to reach out in kindness and encouragement. The world would be a happier place, wouldn’t it?

Is it safe to open up?

There’s a similar implication (especially in the South of the USA) by the term “Bless (your, his, her, their) heart.” The funny thing is that it means almost the opposite of what it says. It’s code for “What a loser”.
1.”She’s just having such a hard time getting her life together, bless her heart.”
Translation: “She’s blowing it big time and I have little hope of her ever succeeding”
2. “He’s on his fourth wife, bless his heart.”
Well you get the idea. No need to wallow through the translations.
So perk up your ears when those words. “Bless his heart”, “no offense”, “I don’t mean to offend” or sometimes even “I’m sorry to say it, but”. You’re about to hear something rude, insulting, gossipy, cruel or hateful from a person who doesn’t want to be thought of in those terms.
If you’re tempted to say/write it, look at what precedes or follows and DON’T say/write it.

Rather than attack the person that’s bothering him, (me, in this case, with my nice, new camera) he flees. I’ll name him Joseph, after Joseph of Egypt.

To give the speaker of those warning phrases the benefit of the doubt, perhaps they have genuine belief that stating a disclaimer of their intention to do harm actually does relieve them of responsibility. . .bless their poor deluded hearts!

I love to watch/listen to Lindsey Stirling. Her contagious exuberance makes me happy.
I read a short article about Lindsey Stirling’s surprising outfit for recent music awards.
I looked at the pictures of the dress, and indeed, it looks pretty skanky.
But she points out (in an embarrassed apology/response to criticism) that it’s fully lined.
It looks like a modest, (though very fitting) black dress that has been cut to ribbons.
Indeed, if there was really so much skin showing, you’d be able to see her naked body from almost any angle.
So it’s obvious that it’s lined. And it’s not sheer, either. It’s just a tan and black dress.
It’s just the effect is not the joyful sweetheart that we love and are so proud of.
We’ve all seen the skating costumes that are tan colored with a colored overlay. They also can have the effect of being very racy, but when shown close up, they’re fully covered.
I have tan colored clothes. They don’t look racy. They’d have to be lily white with freckles *sigh* in order to blend with my skin enough to raise an eyebrow.
There’s another element to this dustup that we old biddies need to remember. How many of us actually know how we appear to others? I’m constantly astonished that I look so heavy in pictures.
I once knew a plump kindergarten teacher whose skirts were too short for the tiny chairs and who leaned over too much in V necked blouses. It wasn’t that she was intentionally immodest, she just didn’t know how she appeared to others.
I look back on pictures of me in a bathing suit in my teens and twenties, and even though I truly had the most modest bathing suit of anyone I knew, (I managed to find a one piece in the 70’s!), looking back, it wasn’t all the modest. But I didn’t know enough about men to know that the power of suggestion can be more exciting than actually baring the body.
The same is true of dresses and shirts that I wore that were TIGHT. I didn’t know that they might have been perceived as sexy because I didn’t know anything about sex. I didn’t know the effect my body could have on men, and believed that if something covered me, it was “modest”.
I considered myself to be as strait laced and modest a virtuous young woman as you’d hope to find. And yet, that may not always have been how I appeared to others. I don’t think I’m all that unique.
So, as we’re huffing and puffing over our exuberant musician, lets remember back to what we knew and what we didn’t know when we were unmarried/twenties/living in virginal innocence.
I agree that somebody should have said something to her, but let she who is without (error) cast the first stone at her.
And let’s all take a lesson about representing ourselves correctly in the way we choose to dress.  

There’s an old adage that says “If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.” I was skeptical when I got an invitation from CityPass to come to Dallas on a “press trip.” I admit that I’d never heard of a “Press Trip” (and now I understand why reporters keep this lovely little perk close to the chest.)
They offered to put me up in a POSH hotel, provide all the meals and, best of all, a free CityPass to all the best activity venues in Dallas.
Since I couldn’t detect any catch and it was a personal note signed by an individual with a real return email, I forwarded it to my friend Kimberly, an editor at the Oklahoman,  and asked her if she thought it was on the up and up.
She knew all about press trips. They’re geared to travel writers and facilitate tourism to the venue/state/country sponsoring the trip. She and her husband have been to India on someone else’s dime for the purpose of writing about it in the paper. She suggested that I ask if I could bring my husband, and said that if I took the trip, they’d buy the story from me.
So I did. But still entertaining a few trembling thoughts of being trapped in a hotel conference room and held prisoner until I bought a timeshare in the Bronx, I made doubly sure that the press trip was being provided at no cost, including the CityPass.
It was! The trip proved to be an exception to the above rule of being too good to be true! It was AWESOME!
We stayed at the Anatole Hilton. The place is huge, upscale by any measure. Beautiful Asian art is displayed everywhere, some of it ancient, much that is astonishingly intricate and beautiful. It makes the Anatole a destination in itself. The room was luxurious and serene, and every amenity (indoor and outdoor pools, exercise rooms, vast gardens and walking paths, restaurants, spa, shopping, etc) seemed over-the-top inviting.

The fun and friendly CityPass people picked us 8 writers (and one cheerful husband) up at 10:30 and took us to the  first venue on the City Pass, the Reunion Tower. If you’ve been to Dallas, you’ve seen the geodesic ball on top of a tower, looking much like a mammoth lollypop in the Dallas Skyline. At the top, there are two rotating decks, with a restaurant and event space, with spectacular views, high power telescopes and fun interactive technology for learning about the city and getting your bearings. (Pictures of the chocolate tower dessert we were served will go to the Oklahoman, so you’ll have to see it there! Here’s a picture that’s too cloudy to be printed in paper. These other photos are ones I probably won’t use in other media, but thought you’d like to see. It was really cloudy and rainy all over Dallas while we were there, so I took these photos with my new camera, but they’re not as good as they’d be with a blue sky. But I like my new camera and want to use the pics I took! 

Reunion Tower is 560 feet tall.

Next stop on the CityPass venue was the Sixth Floor Museum. It’s the place from which Lee Harvey Oswald shot JFK. I had worried that it would be a little too morbid for my taste, but I really enjoyed it. It goes through the Kennedys’  history from the election onward. (Marco Rubio take note that historians credit JFK’s win in part to the fact that the first televised debate in history was between handsome JFK and profusely sweating Richard Nixon. Better fix that!) It was solemn: almost reverent. The presentation was artfully created so that the politics involved were put in context without slant. I felt that they were determined to tell an honest story without adding their opinions. They do address the conspiracy theories, and left a small window open in my mind that it’s possible. . .

The Dallas Book Repository houses the sixth floor Museum. JFK was assassinated by a shooter from a sixth floor window. I never knew that Lee Harvey Oswald was a temp. employee of the book repository.  (picture taken from the Geo Deck of Reunion Tower)

After the 6th Floor Museum, we had free time at the Anatole. We used it to explore the grounds, take lots of pictures, be fascinated by the art objects, etc. I was kicking myself for not bringing my swim suit to try out the Jr. Olympic size indoor pool. Nobody was using it at the time!
That night, we had dinner at the SER Steak and Spirits Restaurant on the 27th floor. We were facing a panoramic view of the Dallas skyline from our table. We watched the sun go down to  and the lights wink on all over the city. So impressive!

The food at the SER is very expensive, but when you want a REALLY special treat, it’s worth checking out. They were disappointed that we were not partaking of the “Spirits” part of the evening, and offered over and over. (Mormons are tee-totallers) The others in our party seemed to enjoy tasting the various wines that came with each course. The appetizer cheeses and pate’ (and other unusual savory offerings) were all flavorful. . .as good as any I’ve tasted. . .except for one cheese that was very goaty. I would have made a glutton of myself on the brie, the rabbit pate’ and the venison salami if I hadn’t (wisely) wanted to save some appetite for the following courses.
I had the Wagyu Spinalis, (said to be the best part of a Ribeye) It was delicious, as tender as filet mignon, and pleasing on every level. Jeff had the Wagyu Big Rib. We learned that “Wagyu” is the breed of beef, like Angus, and Spinalis is the cut. . .”Big Rib” is an understatement. Though portions are not generally large, his meal had about a pound of fork tender, very flavorful meat in a mango sauce.

Jeff’s 18″ plate. The mango sauce was served smeared like this. What sort of ink-blot images do you see? But it was YUMMY

Everyone enjoyed their meals. Fish, vegetable medley and chicken were all praised.
They brought us every side on the menu and most of them were great. Ironically the dish humbly called “creamed corn,” was one of my favorites. The fresh, sweet flavor was perked up by popcorn and I’ll never serve it again without adding popcorn myself. The asparagus was crisp-tender and yummy, the mashed potatoes were very buttery and flavorful, too. I’d order those again. The “hen in the woods” mushrooms were pleasant but not as earthy as I would have liked. The pasta seemed slightly undercooked in the macaroni and cheese. Tater tots were pleasant but the house ketchup was delicious. Who knew that ketchup could be glamorous, but this was!
The cheese bread (asagio, I think) was fantastic with the cheese incorporated in the dough as well as toasted on top.
 By the time they offered us dessert, I was (almost) too stuffed to enjoy it. The six at our table decided to share a “Millionaire Ice cream cake” and a Molten  Chocolate Cake. The desserts were fine, but not up to the level of the rest of the meal. The chocolate cake was the same idea as I’ve had on cruises, but not as good as my old fashioned Hot Fudge Pudding Cake recipe. Not quite sweet enough and the chocolate flavor was not strong enough for me. The raspberry sorbet helped with the chocolate, but not enough to earn a “decadent” label. The millionaire cake was really good, but again, no homerun. Part of the issue may have been the presentation of the desserts. They seemed strange. The Millionaire cake was in the middle of a splatter of (tasty) but very red sauce and the chocolate molten cake was served on a large (unexplainable) chalkboard-looking tray.

The presentation of the millionaire cake detracted from a very pleasant dessert. It’s served on a large dinner plate. . .a generous portion.

I saw that the bread pudding had rave reviews online and I’d recommend trying it.
The City Pass announcement was made at the Perot Museum of Nature and Science. It was like San Francisco’s “Exploratorium” on steroids. (I haven’t been to the Exploratorium in thirty years. . .it might be just as spectacular.)
There are interactive displays of every branch of science and study in nature. It was the make-up day for cancelled field trips when we were there, so it was packed with joyful school children, but I was tempted to elbow some out of the way and take a turn trying to move pingpong balls with brain waves, racing the T-Rex, testing my own DNA, and a hundred other possibilities. If my party would have waited, I wanted to dance on the musical staircase, too! (They probably wanted to do it, too! I should have asked.)

The last stop on the CityPass was far more dignified, but just as delightful. The Arboretum is a vast garden with beauty everywhere you look. It was raining pretty well by the time we finished a delicious lunch in a garden room of the old mansion, so there were very few visitors there with us. Words don’t work very well when trying to describe a garden, and snapshots don’t do it justice, but picture fog rising from a ferny dale and drifting over a wide, lush lawn. I needed a whole day there, too.

Red Salvia in the foreground and hanging pots in the test garden in the background.

Flower houses at the Arboretum in the children’s garden.

The CityPass concept is so cool. We bought them in New York. You pay one price and then pick all the venues you want to attend from the list on the CityPass. For the brand new Dallas CityPass, the Bush Presidential Library is offered as an alternative to the Arboretum and the Dallas Zoo is offered as an alternative to the Sixth Floor Museum. The back of the CityPass booklet has a bunch of good coupons for other venues, including discounts for special displays at the (free) downtown art museum, (been there for the King Tut display a few years ago. The coupon gives a discount to the current special display.) A Dallas City Pass costs $44, which represents a 41% savings.
The CEO of CityPass, Megan Allen, expects that an electronic version of the CityPass will be in place for smartphones within a couple of years.
Not only does it save you money, it plans your vacation for you, with the best venues in town listed on the CityPass. Check it out at CityPass.com. Dallas is the 12th city to get CityPass, so you might want to see the rest of the list.
It may seem too good to be true, but there’s no catch, just a great value and convenience.
I’m looking forward to going back to Dallas and visiting the Aboretum when it’s not raining and the Perot Nature and Science museum. You could spend a week there and not have a chance to enjoy the whole thing. We’re also going to visit the Bush Presidential Museum, (it’s said to be really interesting). What a treat!

Alright Moms, we’ve sat through the talks extolling all things ‘mother.’ We’ve been told that all mothers are angels, kind, patient, loving, beautiful, self-sacrificing, wise, forgiving, tender, good cooks, good chauffeurs, etc, etc, And every one of us knows that while we’re all of those things. . . sometimes we’re none of those things all the time.
But just between us sisters, here are the things that I think are the most important things my mom gave me.

1. Her time.  It may not be politically correct to say that a mom who chooses to stay home with her kids is giving them something important and wonderful, but I believe it anyway. My mother had a bachelor’s degree in English and one in Elementary Education. She could have gotten a job as a school teacher. She’s a very well-educated woman, especially for her generation.

My Mother, Patricia Ann Armstrong Mitchell holding me on my blessing day.

It wasn’t like we were rich. My dad was a coach and a teacher and she became a master economizer. I remember that cheese was a treat. Bread that was NOT homemade was exciting. Yet Mom stayed home.  It was never stated and I never questioned it. I truly believed, (and still do) that we children were the center of my mother’s universe. There’s nothing that builds a child’s confidence better than believing that their mother wants to be home for their sake. I knew that she considered being at home for us a high and worthy “job.”

Mom points out a monkey in a Costa Rican jungle

2. Her eye for beauty. I’m well into middle age and still, when I see breathtakingly beautiful scenery, or art, or hear beautiful music, I hear my mother exclaiming over it in my head. It is her gift to take delight in this beautiful world. She read great literature to us to give us a taste of /for something she loved.

Mom with all 7 kids at a (casual) family camp in 2006

3. Her sense of wonder. I doubt that I’ve ever had a conversation of more than five minutes without her saying “I wonder. . .” (which excludes the possibility of EVER having a conversation without her saying it, since she’s never had a conversation of less than five minutes). She wonders about the scriptures, the universe, people’s motives, people’s thinking, history, eternity, death, birth, politics. She loves to wonder. . .to discern.   She needs to work on coming to conclusions, since she tends to cycle through many considerations without letting her thoughts settle. I expect her prime delight in death is finally receiving answers to all of her “wonderings.”

Pretty as a young woman, beautiful as an old woman.

4. My mother does hard things if she feels they’re right. I called her the other day and she was a little out of breath. That’s because she’d been running on her stairs for exercise. She’s up to 150 reps. Yes, I mean to say that she runs up and down her stairs 150 times to keep fit and improve her girlish figure. She’s 85 years old! She also has stacks of books she’s reading or planning to read because she wants to know things. She gets worried and nervous every single time she goes to the Missionary Training Center to translate for incoming Spanish speaking missionaries. (They’re there to learn English). But she goes because she feels it’s right. It’s something she can do. It keeps her humble, (she says) and she likes to be needed.

5 My mother gave me the tools to develop faith in my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. She taught me to pray and to walk uprightly. My dad was the bishop of our ward, (the head of a Mormon congregation) for most of my growing up years. He sat in the front of the chapel, sketching on a note pad through meetings, (he told himself that it looked like he was taking notes. . .ha!), while my mom made sure that 7 children behaved in church. But we went every single week. It was never discussed, it was never questioned. It was right and she and my dad wanted to teach us to choose the right. We held family home evening faithfully. I can’t vouch for the quality of our FHE, but we ALWAYS had a treat afterward, and the routine of it created a tradition that has bound my own children to me and now is binding my grandchildren to their parents.

Mom and Dad with me on my wedding day.

Thank you Mom, for all you have done for me. I love you. I honor you by trying to give my own children the same joy  you have given me, and by living by the principles and righteous traditions you and Dad bequeathed me. Thank you, dear, Angel Mother.  

It wasn’t a high profile case. No high profile agitators making speeches, no protesters holding candle vigils. This was before that was the fashion. This was before we had so many prominent evil people trying to shape a narrative for their own political gain. But there were some pertinent revelations in how people can be irrational to the point of being immoral.
A member of my family was on the jury.
This case was virtually identical to the relevant facts in most of these 2014-2015 high profile cases.

A passing motorist snaps a picture of an Oklahoma City Police officer changes a tire for a lady in the rain 5-5-2015. (and I know him!) (The position of the umbrella is thought-provoking to me.)

A car had been stolen at gunpoint. Officers in the area were notified of the make, model and color of the car and a description of the suspects.
A police officer was standing in the middle of an intersection directing traffic just a block away from the hijacking when he heard the radioed warning, “Armed and dangerous.”
A moment later, a car and occupants meeting the exact description approached him in the intersection. He signaled them to stop and the driver charged him with the car.
The passenger reached toward the floor.
The officer drew his gun as he leaped out of the way. Believe the passenger was reaching for the gun the officer fired at the passenger, killing him.
Witnesses corroborated the officer’s description of the incident.
The officer was tried and acquitted.
The family of the dead suspect filed a civil suit against the officer.
After hearing the case, the whole jury agreed that the shooting was clearly self defense, based on undisputed evidence.
But the parents had taken the stand and complained about all the baseball games they wouldn’t get to take their son to. They’d never sit in church together.  They went on about all the wonderful family things they’d never get to do with their son.
Happily, the officer had a descent lawyer.
They would hardly miss the baseball games, since they had never taken the kid to baseball games in the past. They had never attended any church together. The kid had been involved in crime for while and they’d done nothing to stop him. They could present no evidence that they had even tried.
The kid was a criminal from a totally dysfunctional family.
Even with all that clear evidence and correct conclusions about the officer, some members of the jury wanted to give the parents a money award, since they had indeed lost their son.
They felt sorry for the “grieving” mother, even knowing that the tales of missed opportunity were the fabrication of a predatory lawyer’s mind.
Pay the criminal’s family when he receives the consequences for his actions?
Fortunately, wiser heads prevailed and the officer was again acquitted and no money was paid. Members of the jury convinced the ones that wanted to give something that they must enforce the rule of law, and not succumb to pleas for sympathy by greedy lawyers and relatives.

Justice would have been even better served if the family that brought the civil lawsuit had been made to reimburse the officer and his family for the trauma and expense of having to defend himself for his actions in protecting the people of the community against them.

Here’s a link to a list of people (all people, without noting race) that were killed by police in the last year.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_killings_by_law_enforcement_officers_in_the_United_States,_August_2014 See if the whole body of incidents fits the current narrative at all.

If you look up one of the high profile recent cases (like Michael Brown) on wikipedia, you’ll see a list of other recent protester-garnering cases. Read the reports now that the media and the agitators have reset their mouse trap for the next time an officer must use his weapon against a black man.
It’s notable to me that as I read the reports online about what we know about each of these prominent cases, there’s little sign of police acting improperly. The truth of each case, as it comes out long after the TV cameras have moved away, is that they are mostly just routine cases of common criminals getting killed while misbehaving. One apparently innocent kid was killed. . .but he was in a park pointing an AK-47 replica gun that had the orange tip (that would have identified it as a toy) removed.
These incidents have occurred regularly for years. They are happening to whites, too, in very similar numbers. But cop-to-white incidents don’t meet the criteria for the agitators message, so are ignored.

We, like the jurors in that long-forgotten civil rights case I started with, are being played like a fiddle.

 Have you noticed the subtle shift in the narrative recently? It started as white cops needlessly killing “innocent” black males. But incidents were so infrequent that they decided to make it “Cops” killing “innocent” black males. Their purpose is to overthrow the rule of law (enforcement) and so they cherry pick the cases they can massage into “public outcry”. These protests and riots are designed to make it seem that it’s white on black oppression but several of the cases that have been high profile involve minorities on both sides of the badge. Agitators, (community organizers) need a steady stream of incidents to give the impression they want. So sometimes they have to fudge a little and use cases where both officers and those killed were minorities.
We the people of the United States of America in order to establish a more perfect union, and establish justice MUST not accept the conclusions being fed to us by evil, designing people. Again I say, “They are hand picking cases that meet a certain profile. They are promoting a predesigned story to reach a calculated end.”
Look carefully at the narrative to find their motives.
Who gains power when looters and rioters are depicted as victims? Who is empowered when the criminal element is elevated to status of martyrs?
Think long and hard about what social changes can be achieved by empowering the least informed, least contributing, and least guided by moral compasses and family responsibilities. Take a long, hard look at how Hitler and Stalin used racial tensions to justify killing  40 million people they deemed “oppressive”. How were they oppressive? They were business owners, shop keepers, tradesmen, educators, capable leaders. They were property owners. Hitler and Stalin were masters at playing the “race card.”
Then read how Mao Zedong managed to seize control of China. The very first step is to give permission for the very lowest, least educated, least stable populations permission to “destroy” and steal.They were told to destroy property owners, the educated, and those who have shown themselves to be capable leaders. They are granted the privilege of discarding the laws that protect a stable community. Read about the killing of 50-75 millions of Chinese citizens that followed.
We better look carefully about who is benefiting as the poorest, least productive people are stirred up and encouraged to fight against authority, and given permission to destroy. By eliminating the rule of law, someone will fill the resulting void. Who is it? What’s their agenda?
Logic demands that it is people who hold the same ideals as Hitler, Stalin, Mao, and so on.
They used to call themselves “socialists”, “communists” or “fascists”.
They’ve renamed themselves “progressives”. (Mao called it “new society” Hitler called it “Aryan  race”)
Identify them individually by listening to what public officials are saying about the demonstrations. Who is siding with the demonstrators? Who is validating their actions? Who is ignoring the Constitution that is designed to protect the civil rights of all Americans, including property owners? The Constitution is the rule of law in the USA. Who is trying to thwart the rule of law?
 They’re on the news. They’re making sympathetic speeches. THEY’RE SPENDING MONEY to ensure that this “movement” continues. They call themselves “community organizers” on camera. Why would they spend money if they don’t have something to gain? Again I ask, What do they have to gain?
 Nothing in the progressive agenda relieves ANYBODY’S suffering. History shows that it only increases misery, poverty, oppression and despair. It is anti-Christ. Anti-all peaceful religions. The progressive’s ultimate goal is to enslave people. That has been the result in every case in history when these methods and ideology have been used. And the enslavement came to Russia and China and Germany, and Korea etc, etc, only after many, many millions of innocent people were first murdered.
If, like the gentle-hearted members of the 25-year-old civil jury, people feel sympathetic to the criminals who are burning and looting, we’ll be lulled into passiveness, we’ll lost our nation. We’ll believe the narrative that it is unjust for some to prosper when others are poor. We’ll apologize as we relinquish our freedoms, and dispose of the next generations’ futures, possibly their lives.

If allowed to continue, this movement toward agitating the worst of our citizens will harm every single American citizen, rich, middle, poor, black, white, yellow, red, pink, brown, beige, blue collar, white collar etc.
Mothers and fathers, ministers, rabbis, mayors, city councilmen, school boards, teachers, businessmen, elected officials, appointed officials, leaders of every kind and color must stand up for the cause of freedom and the rule of law. The two concepts are inseparably joined and MUST remain so, if we are to be a free society with liberty and justice for all.