This is a Facebook post from one of the groups I belong to. It is for Glioblastoma patients and care givers. A few years ago a father of a young cancer patient that died not from the brain tumor but from the treatment. For some reason some people think the government are hiding cures for diseases because big pharm will lose money. Total crap I know but these people are on the fringes and they are given credibility. Here is my response.

We in the brain tumor community know that each cancer is as unique as the fingerprints on your hand. What is good for one patient is usually ineffective for others. This gentleman's story has been floating around for a long time. At best it is anecdotal evidence. Rest assured that the government does not hide cures for cancer. I've been a care giver for over 5 years for my wife. Stage 4 GBM in left temporal lobe. Standard protocol of surgery, radiation and Temodar. The tumor returned after 2 years. More radiation and 10 infusions of Avastin and Carbo-platin. She had a mild stroke probably due to the side effects of the chemo; her blood pressure went crazy. She also had a second stent placed in her heart along the way. It has been 3 years since any tumor was detected by MRI. No chemo for 3 years also. There is one word that we never use in the brain tumor world, 2 actually; Cured and Remission. With GBM that is the reality. You live with it. It's the new normal.

A free speech rally in Boston was disrupted by counter-protestors.

In Boston a rally that was billed as a free speech event turns chaotic.

The right wing free speech demonstrators were met by counter-protestors from the political left. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what went on. I’ll leave the descriptions of the event to the media.

My concern is that in Boston, the “Other Cradle of Liberty”, the right to free assembly and free speech was usurped by a violent wing of the opposition. Boston is where the original free speech movement started over 240 years ago. (There’s even statues there commemorating the event.) What better place to exercise your first amendment rights but Boston, Mass.

For the counter-protestors to act in this way is really un-American.  We all have the right to be heard as well as the right to disagree. These rights are unalienable. We as a nation must uphold everyone’s right to speak their mind. What was denied these right wing speakers were their rights to free assembly and free speech. The counter-protestors acted in a criminal manner and if possible should be held accountable. No one has the right to prevent a legal/lawful assembly as long as it is peaceful. Hell, the Supreme Court has upheld free speech rights so often that cases involving the first amendment rarely make it that far any more.

·       Burn a flag – Free Speech.

·       Have a Nazi rally in Skokie, Illinois – Free Speech. (This happened in the 80s)

·       Talk bad about the president – Free Speech

·       Say you want the president assassinated – NOT FREE SPEECH (This happened this week)

Everything the alt-right stands for I fine anathema but as distasteful as I think their views are I can only listen to them, form an opinion and exercise my right to disagree. The blogosphere is an excellent venue because hardly anyone reads them and I can get stuff off my chest.

“I may not agree with what you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

kkk_leader_glad_protester_died

Someone close to me said I should try not to drop the F bomb for 1 day. So here goes.
How can any one who calls themselves an American condone these people. They are a scourge on the planet and they should be silenced somehow. To put yourself above another person because they are not Caucasian is not only un-American it is inhuman. If these people are allowed to persist in this behavior we are in some very deep trouble. In my humble opinion these people are enabled not necessarily by the president but by the climate that he has instilled by his inexperience and bluster. If you can't see that then the light at the end of your tunnel is a rapidly approaching train that is steadily gaining momentum. It's not about the statues any more; this is a life or death issue that is way beyond that.
(Not being able to "F" bomb is liberating somehow.)
Speaking of the statues, I really don't get this whole Southern heritage thing. I grew up in Philadelphia, The Cradle of Liberty, and believe me , we have our share of statues. But our statues are of winners and patriots not losers and traitors.
Didn't the South lose the war?
Didn't Lee and his bunch renounce their citizenship and swear allegiance to a foreign power waging war against the USA?
Did they not kill their countrymen and women in the bloodiest war in our history?
I have always been puzzled by this. And not just due to recent events. I have always thought it was odd that the losers kept the animosity going.
Finally, nothing on God's green earth will ever convince me that the Civil War was about nothing but slavery, period.
State's rights? Bullshit. Unless you mean the state's right to keep slaves.

Obituary of my grandfather Daniel J. Duffy

This article appeared in a Philadelphia newspaper during the week of August 4, 1935.

---

DANIEL J. DUFFY, SR.

NOTED MEAT PACKER

IS CLAIMED BY DEATH

Well-known Business Man, Founder of Duffy Brothers, Inc., Passes Away at His Home – Helped Establish the Meat Packing Business Located at Front and Venango Streets – Was Energetic and Enterprising and Devoted to Every Cause That Promised Betterment of the Community.

---

Philadelphia, its environs and many other communities were shocked to hear of the death of Daniel J. Duffy, Sr., president of Duffy Brothers, Inc., meat packers who passed away at his home, 1139 Dyre Street, last Friday, August 2. His qualities as a citizen and a business man were such that he will be sorely missed.

Mr. Duffy belonged to that sturdy and dependable race of business builders who showed initiative and energy and truly devoted their lives to the betterment of mankind. Mr. Duffy devoted himself to the conduct of a firm that gave employment to many and always maintained the highest traditions of business integrity.

Mr. Duffy was the founder of the meat packing business located at Front and Venango Streets - an enterprise that has grown in volume and reflects the resourcefulness and personality of its founder. It will be continued along the traditional lines of honest business methods which has made the firm an outstanding success.

 Mr. Duffy was born in Strabon, Ireland, June 16, 1878. He came to America with his parents when only six months of age. He received his early education in the parochial schools of Philadelphia and started in the meat business around 1895. From a small beginning – like every pioneer – his firm has become one of the best known in this section.

Mr. Duffy was always interested in furthering any progressive movement in the meat industry throughout the United States. He was considered the best judge of livestock in the East.

Favored with a progressive and energetic type of mind, Mr. Duffy was successful in maintaining an enterprise which was noted for the high quality of its products. It is a tradition to this day that anything which comes from Duffy Brothers, Inc. is to be depended upon. Employing the most skilled workmen, the business also has the advantage of skilled management. The result was noticeable in the steady progress made by this alert and widely respected concern.

Mr. Duffy was a member of the American Institute of Meat Packers and the Holy Name Society of St. Martin’s Roman Catholic Church.

Aside from his business qualifications, Mr. Duffy was an upright and conscientious citizen always keen to help in any movement that looked forward to the betterment of the community in which he lived. His whole environment was made brighter for his presence.

The business which he established will be carried on by the survivors in the enterprise – his two sons, Daniel, Jr. and Andrew Duffy. Besides these, he is survived by his wife, Mrs. Mary E. Duffy and two daughters, Elizabeth and Anna. To all of these the community extends heartfelt sympathy in the hour of their bereavement.

Funeral services took place Tuesday, August 6, from his late residence, 1139 Dyre Street, attended by relatives, friends and employees of Duffy Brothers, Inc. with Solemn Requiem Mass at St. Martin’s Church, at 10 A. M. Interment was in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery.

MR. DUFFY IS IN BACK ROW 3^RD FROM RIGHT. HIS ELDEST SON AND MY UNCLE, DAN, IS TO HIS RIGHT.

FRONT AND VENANGO THEN AND NOW

THE PLANT EVEN HAD ITS OWN RAIL SIDING

v  I transcribed this verbatim from a blurred copy of a copy.

v  The actual name of the business was DUFFY & BROTHERS.

v  He was born in Strabane, not Strabon.

v  The year was 1935.

v  The business was sold later, I’m not sure when. It became Cross Brothers Meats which closed in 1979.

I live in North Texas and work in Irving Texas which is supposed to be some hotbed of Islamic terrorism and sharia law. Yeah, I'm really scared of terrorists. NOT! There are 2 things that terrify me more here and neither one of them is Islamic terrorists.
#1 is people driving their cars with no regard for their fellow man. All they give a shit about is their phones. No shit. 75 miles an hour on the highway with their heads down looking at Facebook?, email? What? Probably catching up on the latest bullshit from the candidates. Oh yeah, red lights mean nothing either. Just like in Starman, "Green means go, yellow means go faster". Now that is terrorism.
#2 is BUBBA with his God given, second amendment six gun on his hip and his itchy trigger finger. There is no way that you can convince me that unrestricted open carry is a good thing. Again, home grown terrorism.
So all of the hype about making America great again and Stronger Together or whatever her slogan of the day is, is just so much crap. I remember "All The Way With LBJ", "Nixon's The One", "I Like Ike", "Building a bridge to the twenty-first century", "He’s making us proud again" – Gerald Ford, "A Leader, For a Change" – Jimmy Carter and many more. They meant shit then and they mean shit now.
So bring it on all of you Social Justice Warriors. Tell me how you think I'm a liberal shit-tard or whatever. If you think for one minute that Trump and Clinton have your best interests at heart then you might as well believe in Santa Claus because you have a better chance of him getting you what you want. (To see what a Trump America will be like just take a look at Austin Texas and what our Gang of Three is doing to this state.)

My dog died today

Chapter 1

My dog died today. He was the sweetest creature I ever met. He was always there for me and never complained about anything. He never hurt anyone and if I hurt him accidentally by not watching where I was walking, he always was forgiving. Unconditional love.

Spike was a miniature schnauzer, all black but he was turning gray in his old age. I loved him dearly but more so when his health was failing and I knew the end was near.

 Spike went everywhere we went if possible. He didn’t really like riding in the car but could always tell when we were near home.

If I needed to go outside for anything he was right there waiting to help me do whatever I was going to do; get the mail, fetch the paper or just going outside.  All I had to do was merely pick up the key chain for the gates and he was right at the door eager to go exploring. If I was grilling meat out back Spike was right there. He was family so he always got something from the grill.

Spike was the neighborhood dog too. He would wander up and down the street saying hello to everyone; they all loved him. The girls next door always stopped what they were doing to pet him.

Spike was a fun and funny pal. If he was leading the way he always pulled his ears back like he was saying, “OK I’ll go first, you follow me”. I’ll miss that.

He loved playing as all dogs do. If I was working in my office too long he would run to me and just sit on the floor next to me until I would pay attention to him. He loved to wrestle and let me spin him on the floor like a top. His favorite was a game I called “chase the baby’. The baby was any of his stuffed toys. I would toss it down the hall and he would fetch it and play keep away until he got tired.

Spike was a great goalie too. In the back yard we played soccer. It was hard to get his little soccer ball past him.

I put in a pet door for him after we had him for a year or so he had freedom to go in and out. He would go out back and prowl around and poop everywhere and bark at the dogs next door. When he was finished he would come flying back in and sit right at my feet with the biggest grin like he wanted to tell me everything he did. He was part human I'm sure.

Today was one of the worst days of my life though. It was finally time to end his suffering. He was very ill for about 2 months. Pancreatitis and diabetes was taking its toll. He would perk up for a while but it was no use. Our vet was the best; kind and understanding. Watching him pass was too much for me, I lost it. My best friend was gone and never coming back. I’ll get over it but I must grieve.

Chapter 2

It has been 2 days since Spike died.  Yesterday, Saturday, was horrible. The house was empty. Everywhere I looked there was Spike. It was too soon to let go. I still heard his barking and still saw him around the house. A black shoe on the floor became Spike. A shadow passing over the room was him heading for his water dish.  I still haven’t gotten used to not having him around, but I will.

I had to go out to the pharmacy Saturday morning. I was driving on autopilot and found myself on the way to the vet instead of turning right to the pharmacy. I had just passed the vets building and found myself behind the truck from the pet loss center. I knew Spike was in there because I knew when they were picking him up. I did not plan to be where I was, I just ended up there. I was able to say good bye one more time.

Today, Sunday was equally tough because we haven’t left the house since Friday evening. I was doing well for the first 10 minutes after I got up.

Staying busy for part of the day helped but after dinner it was time for his evening walk. I didn’t know what to do so I went for the walk alone. I had to. It was nice.

We always went around the block to the closed street where I would cut him loose to explore.  Spike was with me. I watched him water the grass at all of his favorite places and try to chase the rabbits that are everywhere. I’m glad I took the walk. I’m still grieving. That won’t change but I have let him go. He is free and so am I.

Spike, I’ll always love you. You’ll always be my dog. You’ll always be my “Fat Boy, “Sonny Jim” and “My Lad”.

Good Bye.

Chapter 3

Spike came home today.

I got the call from the vet that his remains were there and I could pick them up any time. Emotionally, I guess I was ready for it. I had a doctor’s appointment to go to first and I picked him up after. I was in and out in a minute. He is in a very nice wooden box. They even had a card with a very nice message that broke me again.

The ride home with him was somber and nice at the same time. I still talk to him and I can see him as clear as day. The way he would look at me while I drove was beautiful. He always trusted me no matter what. I could still see him. Of course it was in my mind. I still haven’t let him go yet.

Whenever I would work outside on the yard or garden he was always there. Sometimes he would wander off for a little while but always came home and sat on the grass watching; watching the street for passers-by. He would bark a greeting or just go up to them for a head rub.

L to R Spike, his brother Goliath and his mother Shelby

This week I needed to occupy myself more just to clear my head and come to grips with my loss. I spent a couple days working on the front yard and garden. I could visualize Spike there as he usually was. It felt right.

I must say that when I was finished it looked pretty good. The best its looked in several years. It looked so good that the homeowners association gave us the Yard of the Month award.

So Spike is home now, the house has curb appeal and we are slowly overcoming our grief.

The grief will pass but Spike will never be out of my life. Spike is the only true friend I ever had aside from my wife. He never argued with me but he could be stubborn. Spike was a great listener. I told him everything and he never revealed any secrets.

Thank you Spike for always being there and I’m sorry if I wasn’t there when I should have. Enjoy your new life and perhaps we will meet again. I hope so.

          

Another Close Call



Phantom Area Ubon RTAFB

It was another day just like the others on the flight line. This time I was with my buddy John Smith and we were eating our usual fried egg and cheese sandwich at the flight line snack bar. 

Looking straight down the taxiway between the 2 sets of revetments we saw a very strange sight. A 25th Phantom was taxiing in with the front half of the centerline tank missing as well as the outboard halves of the stabilators.  There were also a few missing leading edges. Reckon she pulled some pretty heavy “Gs”.

This wasn’t the airplane that took the barrier and bent the tail hook although I saw that one too. I don’t remember a lot about what happened because it was a B flight plane and I was in A flight and we had to go recover our airplanes which were on their way in also.

Maybe someone reading this will have a better recollection. It is possible that this was the same day that LtCol. French, the 25th CO, got shot in the helmet.