Big Bend High Adventure
Dear Paul and Kate, Melanie and Jared, Bridget and Justin, Sara, Ben and Sarah, Heather, Audrey, Rachel, and Matt via hardcopy,
cc: file, Tony Hafen, Pauline Nelson via mail,
Sara and Des Penny, Diane Cluff, and Maxine Shirts
Welcome to "Thoughtlets." This is a weekly review of an idea,
belief, thought, or words that will hopefully be of some benefit
to you, my children, with an electronic copy to on-line extended
family members. Any of you can ask me not to clutter your mail
box at any time.
"Last Sunday evening we watched a special about September 11th
(0138.html). The program was in commeration of Memorial Day,
which, as I expect you all know, was observed last Monday. I
had received an e-mail on Saturday from Haden Hudson, which I
intended to include in last week's Thoughtlet, and forgot
because of being over at Vidor, and the hectic nature of
getting ready for the week long Big Bend High Adventure.
Grandma Shirts was here for Rachel's graduation. She came
into the office to say goodnight and goodbye before she went
to bed. And just after she left I realized I had forgot to
include Haden's e-mail. I've never seen the movie he writes
about, because it is R-Rated, and an edited version hasn't made
it to TV yet. Hdopefully some of you will recognize the value
of and be able to implement the advice given toward the end of
this quote from Dick Feagler:
<![CDATA[ `In a battlefield cemetery each marble cross marks an individual
crucifixion. Someone - someone very young usually - has died
for somebody else's sins. The movie "Saving Private Ryan"
begins and ends in the military cemetery above Omaha Beach.
By sundown of D-Day, 40,000 Americans had landed on that beach,
and one in 19 had become a casualty.
Director Steven Spielberg made "Saving Private Ryan" as a
tribute to D-day veterans. He wanted, reviewers say, to strip
the glory away from war and show the '90s generation what it
was really like. The reviews have praised the first 30 minutes
of the film and the special effects that graphically show the
blood and horror of the D-Day landing.
Unfortunately, American movie audiences have become jaded
connoisseurs of special effects gore. In the hands of the
entertainment industry, violence has become just another
pandering trick. But Spielberg wasn't pandering. Shocked by
and wary of his depiction, I bought a copy of Steven Ambrose's
book "D-Day." The story of the Normandy invasion is a story
of unimaginable slaughter. Worse than I ever knew, and I
thought I knew something about it.
The young men who lived through those first waves are old men
now. Many have asked themselves, every day for more than 50
years, why they survived. It is an unanswerable question. The
air was full of buzzing death. When the ramps opened on many
of the landing craft, all the men aboard were riddled with
machine gun bullets before they could step into the water.
Beyond this cauldron of cordite and carnage, half a world away,
lay an America united in purpose like no citizen under 60 has
ever seen. The war touched everyone. The entire starting
lineup of the 1941 Yankees was in military uniform. Almost
every family could hang a service flag in the window, with a
Star embroidered on it for each son in uniform, a Gold Star for
those who had made the ultimate sacrifice. In the early hours
of D-Day, with the outcome of the battle still in the balance,
the nation prayed.
Ambrose tells us that the New York Daily News threw out its
lead stories and printed in their place the Lord's Prayer.
"I fought that war as a child," a historian on television said
the other night. I knew what he meant. So did I. We all
saved fat and flattened cans and grew victory gardens. But we
did not all go to Omaha Beach. Or Saipan. Or Anzio. Only an
anointed few did that. The men of World War II are beginning
to leave us now. In my family, six have gone and two are left.
We have lost the uncle who was on Okinawa, the cousin who
worked his way up the gauntlet of Italy and the cousin who
brought the German helmet back from North Africa. These men
left us with a simple request. You can hear that request in
final minutes of "Saving Private Ryan."
I haven't read a review that has mentioned it, but it is what
makes Spielberg's movie a masterpiece. In the film, a squad
of rangers is sent behind enemy lines to save a young 101st
Airborne Paratrooper whose three brothers have been killed in
battle. Headquarters wants him shipped home to spare his
mother the agony of having all her sons killed in combat. So
eight rangers risk their lives for one man. And when Captain
Miller, the Ranger Commander is mortally wounded, he asks Pvt.
Ryan to bend over so he can whisper to him. "Earn this," he
says. And that is the request of all the young men who have
died in all the wars - from Normandy to the Chosin Reservoir
to Da Nang to the Gulf. "Earn this."
When the movie ended, the theater was silent except for some
muffled sobs. But the tears that scalded my eyes were not
just for the men who had died on the screen and in truth. Or
for the men who had lived and grown old and were baffled about
why they had been spared. I walked out into the world of
Howard Stern, Jerry Springer and "South Park." Into the world
of front-page coverage of Monica Lewinski and the stain on her
dress from Oval Office semen. "Earn this," was still ringing
in my ears. And the tears in my eyes were tears of betrayal.']]>
I could go on and on about this, about my feelings about our
nation, and about my reverence for those who protect us. I
won't. It does make some of what I work on, like counting
swallows, seem very mundane and unimportant. I've attached
this months summary. As months go by, I get more and more
charts automatically generated. I doubt if anyone is
interested, and yet I have got a lot of feedback about my
experiment of counting swallows, and so I merged several of
the plots onto one, so those who are interested can see some
of the results that come from keeping track of data. Sure not
loosing weight as fast as the beginning. So I have modified
my goal for the next month, and am just keeping it flat, with
the hope of catching up. One big problem I see is I love
Chinese food, and always eat too much when I visit there.
Hopefully counting swallows will help me keep input closer
to output. It is interesting that hiking 14 miles in the
hot Big Bend sun, I actually drank 106 swallows of water.
That is a lot of water to sweat off at the Big Bend High
Adventure. I did. And if you don't believe it, just look
at the sweat marks on my hiking hat.
We are going to Seminary Graduation in a few minutes, and I
don't feel like writing an epistle tonight (already put all
of my emotional energy for this week into an e-mail response
last night, after we got back from the High Adventure). And
anyway the 2002 Nottingham Country Ward Big Bend High Adventure
is pretty well captured by the ballad I wrote this week:
<![CDATA[ `Welcome to Big Bend by H. Roice Nelson, Jr. 28-31 May 2002
E Am G D E
M1. Young Men on a High Adventure campout
Packed in cars so long they want to shout
Some spent the effort to uselessly pout
After eleven hours from the cars we did get out
C D E
C. Welcome to Big Bend
Where the world does not end
Scenery to send
Minds to the earth to tend
M2. T-Bone steak and baked or mashed potatoes
It is too hot and dry to find a rose
Cameras caught some youth in a pose
The neighbors said we made too much noise
T3. Walking the Lost Mine Trail
Eleven hundred feet up hill and dale
Scenery to set the mind's sail
Solving world problems we can not fail
T4. Bicycles down the mountain roads fast
Digital video capturing kids having a blast
Four-wheeling in the scenery so vast
Flat tire then hamburgers at last
W5. Most of the guys hiked to the window
Where absent running water cut a canyon low
Six to McDonald Observatory learning spectral glow
Fixing the tire, on the cell phone saying hello
W6. Shish-ka-bobs and cleaning up the mess
Missing dinner because playing chess
Checkers, cards, and stories to confess
A skunk in camp, in a tent, left, YES
T7. A hike up Big Bend's `Logan Canyon'
Ever greener with pine trees in the sun
Others to the window and then for a run
Showers, guitar, and football fun
T8. Throwing rocks to Mexico across the river
The stench was bad enough for most to shiver
Back to camp, fajitas for dinner
Chess, checkers, and stories about sinners
F9. Four adults and four kids to the South Rim
Fourteen miles and a two thousand foot climb
Floating ravines, bluebirds, fire remains dim
Stopping to rest on or under a tree limb
F10. Returning to find no water in camp
Tents down, packing quickly like a tramp
Driving to Seminole State Park to camp
Cooking tortolini by the light of a lamp
S11. Deep conversations driving in the car
More chess and checkers across distances far
The gourmet week over at a piza root beer bar
Home safe at three o'clock, having had little danger']]>
A couple of comments. First, the tent the skunk came
into was my tent, and when Shane Gillette, one of my tent
mates woke up and saw the skunk a foot from my head, his
first thought was to get his digital camera and flash a
photo. Thankfully he didn't, and his movement scared the
skunk so it went back out the slightly unzipped flap it
had come in. Needlessly to say, the tent was closed tight
each of the other nights, and, also, the jerky crumbs he
had spilled on the tent floor were cleaned up. Second,
the letter in front of the verse number is for the day of
the week, i.e. M for Monday, etc. Specifically because
of the gourmet meals we were fed, I consider this one of
the best Scout Camps I've ever been on. The only camp
I recall eating better at was when several of us went down
the Colorado River on rafts, and they fed us shrimp
cocktail, and other fancy things for each meal (../9722.html).
Church was nice today. I had my Activities Committe
Meeting. Only two others showed up. Oh well! Guess I
need to call if I expect folks to attend. Maybe I won't
be on a Big Bend High Adventure next month. We are working
on a 24th of July activity at Bush Park, hosted by the
Young Men and the Young Women. Andrea was sustained as
the Sunbeam Teacher (3 year old primary kids) in Sacrament
Meeting. She has Johnathan Schmidt in her class. I bore
my testimony, which is something I havn't done that often
since the divorce. It was specifically for Rachel. Gospel
Doctrine was the same lesson we had last week. I really
like Marion, and her points were good. Sister Wright is a
better teacher. Maybe it is experience and delegation. In
High Priests Brent Peterson talked about what it takes to
have kids stay active in the church after they leave home.
Rigid rules, like what can be done on Sundays, forcing
kids to go to seminary, and other mistakes I made when you
kids were growing up were brought up as examples of what
drives kids away from their knees and prayer and the
scriptures and church attendance and so on. Oh well! I
did the best I could with the tools I had and if I'm going
to hell for failing to teach true principles correctly so
be it. At some point in each of our lives we get to take
responsibility for our own choices, face our mistakes,
pick up the pieces, and get on with the rest of our life
the best we can.
Rachel was one of the speakers at Seminary Graduation.
What a wonderful, sweet testimony. It is scary to see her
leave to go face the big bad world and all those who will
strive to lead her down a garden path and away from the
iron rod. Rachel, my prayers are with you, as they are
with each of you other kids. Remember the words used by
President Gellepise, 2nd Counselor in our Stake Presidency,
as he described six patterns to help us to have successful
lives:
- Moral Purity
- Pay Tithing
- Attend Church
- Obey the Word of Wisdom
- Pursue a good education
- Develop patterns to be able to accept an eternal marriage
In summary he said, don't just know, be. Allow yourself to be
converted. Allow yourself to keep the commandments. After all
life is mostly in our minds. All in all, it is sort of like
sticking with the trail on the 14 mile hike we took Friday.
Sometimes we stopped and rested in the shade, sometimes we
looked at butterflys or bluebirds. And by sticking to the
trail, before we knew it, even though we were very tired, we
had completed our Big Bend High Adventure."
I'm interested in sharing weekly a "thoughtlet" (little statements
of big thoughts which mean a lot to me) with you because I know how
important the written word can be. I am concerned about how easy
it is to drift and forget our roots and our potential among all of
distractions of daily life. To download any of these thoughtlets
go to http://www.walden3d.com/thoughtlets or e-mail me at
rnelson@walden3d.com.
With all my love,
Dad
(H. Roice Nelson, Jr.)
I could go on and on about this, about my feelings about our
nation, and about my reverence for those who protect us. I
won't. It does make some of what I work on, like counting
swallows, seem very mundane and unimportant. I've attached
this months summary. As months go by, I get more and more
charts automatically generated. I doubt if anyone is
interested, and yet I have got a lot of feedback about my
experiment of counting swallows, and so I merged several of
the plots onto one, so those who are interested can see some
of the results that come from keeping track of data. Sure not
loosing weight as fast as the beginning. So I have modified
my goal for the next month, and am just keeping it flat, with
the hope of catching up. One big problem I see is I love
Chinese food, and always eat too much when I visit there.
Hopefully counting swallows will help me keep input closer
to output. It is interesting that hiking 14 miles in the
hot Big Bend sun, I actually drank 106 swallows of water.
That is a lot of water to sweat off at the Big Bend High
Adventure. I did. And if you don't believe it, just look
at the sweat marks on my hiking hat.