When I first started working an early shift in news radio, I would find myself up at 3 o’clock, 4, 5 in the morning on my days off — unable to sleep. I just couldn’t go back to bed. And taking naps? Forget it. Who can sleep in the middle of the day? Or so I thought. Continue reading
My sons, here in the Man Cave, have an amazing example of what it means to be a Man, in their father. They’re blessed, also to have wonderful grandparents and uncles. I’ve also told them the story of another man. One who was at the beach in Normandy, France, 70-years-ago. General Llewellyn. Everyone in my neighborhood said his name as: “GENERAL Llewellyn.” Not Ensley, Mr. Llewellyn or grandpa (as he was an older man, at that time). But “General Llewellyn.”
It was when I – a child in grade school – was assigned a class on WWII, that I ‘interviewed’ him.
I learned he was one of the first to land on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. He was on the first jeep that rode into San Michelle, France, to crowds of newly liberated Frenchmen. He served in both the European theater and the South Pacific. BUT what I remember the most? He talked so proudly about starting the Stars and Stripes War Orphan Fund. Continue reading
OK. I admit the winter uniforms can be outlandish and the analysis a bit tedious at times, but I love to watch the graceful vaulting over the snow . . . The sliding — and occasional falling — on the ice . . . the rising up, again, undaunted. The endurance! The “facing the cold and exhaustion and never ending expanse of snow!” Yes, I am proud, PROUD, of my journalism colleagues and their wall-to-wall storm coverage!
No, I was not talking about the Winter Olympics, although I’m pretty darn sure there should be medals handed out for the longest live-shot, worst broadcast conditions, and most man-on-the-street interviews (I’d put in for that one). Continue reading