Moved to Texas in 1970 after graduation from NMSU. Went to work for Dow Chemical Company and retired after 34+ years. Married to Janell since 1975. We have two children, Sean and Stacy.
A few months ago, Sean suggested that he and I go to New York to watch tennis at the US Open. This sounded like a great time in the making. The birth of Daniel and Emmie put planning on the back burner for a while, but we finally made all the arrangements to go. After many weeks of anticipation, we left on August 29th. This also happened to be Janell’s birthday, so I had to do some pre-emptive work to eliminate any issues.
With Janell staying with Tara and the twins, Sean and I went sojourning. We arrived in New York on Sunday evening and got settled into our hotel. The next morning we got up, basted ourselves with sunscreen, and rode the tour operator’s shuttle bus to Flushing Meadows. For a small town guy, even this was part of the experience. Lots of sights and sounds to take in.
We had opted to attend the opening rounds. Considering that the top players in the world compete, there really isn’t a bad match. We had some courtside seats on Monday and Tuesday, which gave us a really neat perspective. You get to see the sweat, hear the grunts, and see the emotions.
Just going around on the tournament grounds was quite a deal. I think that there must have been five or six thousand folks walking around at any given time. Add to that all the folks in the stands of the many courts and stadiums, and you have lots of bodies. I imagine that it isn’t any more significant than big time football, but for tennis, it’s a pretty big deal.
We stayed for three days of tennis. Tuesday and Wednesday we got there about 10:30 am and left about 1:00 am. We were hot, sweaty, drank a thousand gallons of water, walked a hundred miles, and were tired. But it was worth it. The best thing – I got to spend some time with my son, just he and I for the first time in a long time. That was worth everything.
Yesterday we arrived in BCS to visit the twins and relieve Tara's mom for a few days. The little babes are three weeks old. Everyone is so blessed by their arrival, and we have anticipated this trip. The little video is not long and gives you a idea of Emmie's and Daniel's cuteness. Okay, okay, I know I'm prejudiced, but they are pretty adorable. View on.
It's been a long time since I posted anything. We've had lots of things happening but haven't taken any time to write about them. A bad case of procrastination or something.
The thing about retirement is that time just moseys along. Most of the time I have to think about what day of the week it is because I really don't have a need to know. Having to put the trash out a couple of days a week helps keep me grounded, though.
While we had the sadness of losing Johnnie, we've been recently blessed with the arrival of Sean and Tara's twins. Emmeline Kay McGuire and Daniel Timothy McGuire were born on May 26, 2010. They are the result of God's gifts to each and every one of us. Healthy and thriving, we are most thankful for them. While having one baby to take care of as a first time parent is daunting, two is almost indescribable. Tara's mother is taking on a much needed support role during these first few weeks. We're on call as necessary while Sean and Tara adjust to the new normal in their household.
We've made a few trips to see Stacy's family, enjoying Hutch and Elsa as much as possible. It is so much fun watching them grow and learn. Our trip last April coincided with pretty good weather, so we were able to do things outside. Hutch still loves anything that's got wheels, and Elsa is learning a lot from big brother. They are both their own people, though.
Yesterday, June 3rd, our best dog Ollie turned fourteen. We have enjoyed him all these years. He still retains a lot of enthusiasm when we have company. The more the merrier for him. Age hasn't deterred him from holding out hope of finding something to eat, whether real food or not. He's moving a lot slower these days, can't hear worth a flip, and has some vision loss. However, he always has unbridled joy when he sees us, giving us generous tail wags as he has done all these years. He continues to be noisy, drinking loudly, clattering on the hardwood floor, and knocking things off the table with his ever-moving tail. Despite all the vagaries of old age, he thinks he can do everything he's done all his life, and pursues them with as much vigor as he can muster. Happy Birthday, old boy. Here's to many more.
Before Janell and I married, I bought and assembled a kit for a Civil War era Parrot rifle cannon. Sometime later, I purchased a kit for the limber. Along the way, the cannon was damaged and spent about thirty years in a paper bag on our closet shelf. A few months ago, I got the urge to repair the cannon model and put together the limber.
Wanting to keep the model from getting dusty and subject to harm, I decided I'd put it in a case of some sort. Then, in keeping with my propensity for complicating things, I figured that a diorama was in order. Searching for some reference material after which to model the diorama, I happened to find a picture (Library of Congress, online) that showed four Parrot rifles on a hill. Further investigation provided some interesting information. Now you will be subjected to all that if you read on.
In the Spring of 1862, the Army of the Potomac began the Peninsular Campaign aimed at capturing the Confederate capitol of Richmond, Virginia. In late May, the fighting was centered just east of Richmond known as the battle of Seven Pines (or Fair Oaks). On the night of May 31, several Federal horse artillery batteries were ordered to cross the Chickahominy River so there would be support for the next days fighting. The river was swollen due to heavy rains. The four pieces shown in the original photograph were the only cannon to make it across the river. They were Battery B, 1st Regiment, New York Light Artillery, commanded by Captain Rufus Pettit. For the diorama, this photo is the background, with the model being an addition. A light, or horse, artillery battery typically consisted of four to six pieces, each with a limber drawn by six horses. The cannon were hooked to the limbers which also carried ammunition and necessary supplies. A single caisson was a horse drawn wagon that accompanied the battery, and it carried extra ammunition, a spare wheel, and other supplies.
A Parrot rifle was a major improvement in artillery. It was named after the designer who conceived the idea of a rifled cannon, giving greater range and lethality. This is particularly interesting to us because of our visit to Savannah, Georgia a few years ago.
We went to Savannah with Sean and Tara when they lived in Athens. We visited Fort Pulaski, which had been occupied by Confederate forces. The fort was besieged by Federal forces which included the first use of rifled cannon. The fort had been designed to withstand bombardment by smooth-bore cannon in the early 1800's. However, the rifled cannon were able to open a hole in the wall of the fort over the course of one night, causing the fort commander to surrender for fear of a round hitting the magazine and blowing up the facility.
All this work rekindled my interest in a book Sean and Tara gave me a couple of years ago. It is a memoir of a Confederate general who commanded the artillery in Longstreet's Corps. Written in 1907, it provided insight into many of the major battles, including the one on which this diorama is based.
It's interesting that we have more ties to that area of the country than I would have thought. First off, I spent three months at Fort Lee, Virginia during 1970-71. It's located in Petersburg, which is just south of Richmond, and was the last major battle of the Civil War. Then, of course, the Jehles lived in Charlottesville, VA for two years. Finally, we found out recently that one of Janell's uncles on her fathers side of the family died in a military plane crash near Richmond in 1945.
Okay, I know it's been a few weeks, maybe months, since I've posted anything. We seem to have had so much happening that time whizzed by. We managed to sell Janell's mother's house, which put a major goal behind us. We went to Missoula, MT a couple of times; once for Elsa's first birthday and a second to help babysit while Alex was out of town (good excuse). In October, Janell's mother was in the hospital for over a week. She is home now. And, of course, I participated in two Habitat for Humanity house building projects.
Today marks the 40th anniversary of the start of a journey that marked the end of one. Apollo 11 lifted off on its way to the moon, signaling the culmination of years of effort to land human beings on the lunar surface.
When President Kennedy presented this challenge in 1961, I was in the ninth grade. We lived in Las Cruces, New Mexico at the time, and, in the mid-1960's, NASA built a test facility near town. Needless to say, our community involved in part of the process to make Apollo successful. Knowing people who were working on the project brought it closer to us.
All the progress toward manned spaceflight were indeed in their infancy during the early parts of the program. Each step along the way was followed eagerly by everyone. From Mercury to Gemini to Apollo, we were all engaged. Much of that had to do with the times as much as excitement of the challenge.
We feared the Russians. The Cold War was ever present. Nuclear war was not in the forefront of everyones thoughts, but it lurked in the background. Early on, the Russians had tended to be one step ahead in space, and I suppose our fears coupled with a desire to win the space race influenced us all.
The sixties was a particularly tumultuous time for us. The Viet Nam war was ever widening and consuming. Social unrest and upheaval showed up in changing mores, racial tensions, and challenging of authority. By the end of the decade, we were a lot different than we were at the start. But Apollo 11 was a glorious bright spot. When the small spacecraft, perched atop the giant Saturn V rocket, started its journey, the entire nation was galvanized at the moment. I think everyone felt a part of a positive part of American history and accomplishment.
Four days later, as the lunar module began its descent toward the moon's surface, my Dad and I were watching on the television. My father kept a journal for most of his life, and I read his entries for these days in July, 1969. He marveled at being able to watch this event as it happened. Dad, ever the keeper of details, kept a play-by-play as the module descended toward the surface, recording the altitude and time data and snippets of mission control conversation. As it got closer, his words were "Damn-this is awful! Can't write!!" His handwriting was impeccable, but when he wrote " -they're on at 18 min after 2 p.m. My God! It's done! My God! Isn't it wonderful-", his penmanship broke down a little. My father was born eleven years after the Wright brothers made the first powered flight, and he witnessed this.
To me, the space program that began with the charge to put a man on the moon demostrated something else . Usually, technological advances are made under times of great duress, such as wartime. But this was one human effort that produced much that didn't require the precursor of human suffering.
