One day of blog silence for Dad on his birthday

Remember Dad this Father's Day

Remembering Dad Today

Ground Hog Day

Whenever yours truly sees this "holiday" pop up on ye olde calendar, thoughts turn to a handful of old movies rather than speculations as to the end of winter.

That's because the film "Ground Hog Day," starring Bill Murray, was one of the select few that seemed to fascinate my late father.

He could watch it over and over and over and over again . . . and, often did, much to the chagrin of the rest of our none-too-patient nuclear family.

The other "classics according to Dad" were, in no particular order: Evil Roy Slade, Continental Divide, and Forrest Gump.

It always struck me as odd that someone who tended to take him self way too seriously was attracted to such a ridiculous bunch of movies.

To each his own, I guess.

And, there's very little that's better for waiting-out winter than to curl up on an overstuffed couch and popping in a DVD. Might just do that tonight, as there's really nothing good on TV til NCIS comes on . . . .

Pass the popcorn!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Yes, ye socks, it was on this day back in 1948 that the sire of yours truly was birthed in this little corner of heaven.

A year later, he was presented with the cake pictured here.

Unfortunately, Dad lost his battle with early-onset Alzheimer's Disease a couple of years ago, so isn't around to celebrate with us in person . . . much less eat any cake.

But, methinks he was with us in spirit this evening as we toasted his memory with some fine Irish whiskey . . . and, we enjoyed a slice of cake, to boot!

Remember, ye socks. Life is short. So, celebrate it every chance you get!

Another day of blog silence

In memory of my dad, Lt. Col. W.S. "Skip" Morgan (16 Oct 1948 - 15 March 2007).

November is Alzheimer's Awareness Month

Ye socks who have followed posts in this dryer for any length of time know how Alzheimer's has affected yours truly on a personal level.

My dad died of an early-onset case of this horrible disease last year.

He was only 58 years old.

And, he and we suffered thru three of the most trying years anyone could imagine.

Frighteningly, the incidence of the disease are on the rise--thus the need for an entire month to promote awareness.

Two of the many lessons I learned from my family's battle with the disease:

1. It is not necessarily an inherited illness, though it is hard to identify cases in your family tree because the disease wasn't identified--much less understood--until fairly recent times. In Dad's case, I found two ancestors who probably had it but were assumed to merely be "senile." One was his maternal great-grandfather who died the year Dad was born but, according to contemporary newspaper accounts, "didn't know who he was anymore." The other was a Civil War widow whose children had to fill out her pension application because she "didn't recognize her own family, friends, or neighbors."

2. It is much more than forgetfullness, which is why I hate when AD is classified as a "memory disorder." In truth, it is a COGNITIVE disorder. Far more than a person's memory is affected by the disease. In Dad's case, it started with his vision. He saw things, but couldn't interpret what they meant. Then his verbal skills were impaired. Then, too many other things to mention here.

Be aware of this insidious disease, ye socks. And, if you recognize the symptoms in yourself or someone you know, seek treatment as quickly as possible. There are medications and other treatments available today that weren't around for Civil War widows--or even my dad.

For more info on AD, please visit www.alz.org.

(This post made as part of the 60th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy.)

Armistice Day came too late for Ben Brown

As today is Veteran's Day, a trip to nearby Greenwod Cemetery was in order to pay my respects to my dad and the many other service men and women who rest there.

While Dad is buried in an old private family plot, the American Legion maintains an entire section for military personnel whose graves are marked by simple government-issued stones.

I'd like to introduce ye socks to one of those servicemen: Private Ben B. Brown (1896-1918), who gave his life for this country in the Aisne-Marne offensive in France during the First World War.

Brown's file tells us that he was a native of Spartanburg, South Carolina. He enlisted 8 August 1917 in Orlando to serve in Company C of the 2nd Infantry, Florida National Guard. That unit was sent for training at Camp Wheeler, then shipped to France on 20 June 1918.

Poor Ben was killed in action just one month, one week, and one day later.

More tragically, he fell less than four months before Armistice Day.

While I hope everyone out there in the blogosphere will take a moment today to honor all veterans of all our nation's wars, please remember the holiday was originally declared to commemorate the end of the First World War--the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918--an important moment that far too many young men like Ben Brown did not live to see.

And, find a veteran to thank.

60 years ago today . . .

Well, ye socks, today would have been my dad's 60th birthday, a cause for reflection.

Were it not for the insidious nature of Alzheimer's Disease, he'd probably still be with us today to engage in a little reflecting, too.

Instead, I'll be writing out a check to the Alzheimer's Association in his memory. If moved to join me, you can get the pertinent details at their website:

http://www.alzorlando.org

And, if you're in this little corner of heaven, feel free to join us at Scruffy Murphy's on Edgewater Drive for a 60th birthday toast in honor of the old man.

Slainte.

Ansearchin' by flashlight

The 58th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy is inviting bloggers to post on the theme of "Halloween Hauntings . . . Fact or Fiction?"

Kinda appropriate since Hallowe'en is only a few weeks away . . .

I'll let ye socks determine just how much truth is in the following second-hand account:

Twenty years ago, Skip Morgan's full time job was as a pilot in the U.S. Air Force. His part-time obsession was genealogy. The little library near his base in West Texas had a remarkably good collection of research material, and it was there he discovered a book that listed the final resting place of his great great grandparents James Lorenzo Morgan and Martha Virginia Brown Morgan.

(Shameless plug: For a compelling account of James and Martha's experiences during the U.S. Civil War, check out my book Like the Cats of Kilkenny.)

Their names were recorded among the many early burials at the Washington Cemetery in the little Missouri River town of Glasgow--about halfway between Kansas City and St. Louis.

As luck would have it, just a few days after Skip discovered this little genealogical tidbit, he was sent on a mission to Whiteman Air Force Base. It was just over 90 miles away from Glasgow, a trip that would take over two hours to make-- even for somebody who knew the backroads of rural Missouri. And, he was only going to be there overnight. But, Skip was undeterred.

Upon landing at Whiteman, the intrepid genealogical sleuth commandeered one of those old blue Air Force trucks all of we brats recall so fondly from our childhood bases. You know the ones with the yellow lettering and bad suspension. Soon, it was carrying him up bumpy Highway 65 to Marshall, and east on county roads 41 and 240 to Glasgow.

Unfortunately, by the time he got to the little river town, the sun had long since set and all the businesses were closed. There was no one about to tell a stranger where the cemetery was. And, it would be a peculiar question to ask, anyway. So, Skip decided to just cruise up and down the streets until he found it.

Fortunately, Glasgow is a small town, and his cruising did not take too long. He found the cemetery just before midnight, which would have deterred almost any non-genealogy addict.

Grabbing a flashlight from the glove compartment of the truck, Skip began exploring the eerily quiet cemetery. There were none of the proverbial hoot owls or spooky winds that generally accompany late night visits to such places, just a lot of quiet and a lot of dark.

He made his way to the biggest monument he could see outlined against the night sky, and flashed his beam onto the obelisk. Amazingly, it had been erected in memory of his namesake William D. Swinney--an uncle to both James and Martha! Surely, their stones must be nearby!

So, Skip began circling the Swinney plot as slowly and methodically as his excitement would allow. Around and around he went, shining his small light on stone after stone, looking for his elusive ancestors. But, all his patience was for nought.

It should be mentioned that the cemetery in question is not on a level piece of ground. So, before too long, our intrepid genealogist found himself atop a small rise. Frustrated, he was just about to admit defeat. Then, out of nowhere, a breeze blew across the garden of stones and he could have sworn it whispered something in his ear, "Over here!"

He spun around to see whose voice might have been carried on the wind, turning so quickly as to lose his footing. His flashlight fell from his hand and rolled down the rise, and Skip would have gone tumbling after if he hadn't reached out to grab a nearby stone to regain his balance.

Muttering a curse of resignation, he carefully made his way down the rise to recover his still shining flashlight. He knew he better get out of there before he caused any alarm amongst the townfolk, and he had to cover the 90+ miles back to his base for the return flight the next morning. But, as he knelt to pick up the flashlight, he noticed its beam was illuminating the same stone that had steadied him atop the rise.

A chill went down his spine as he read the name: James Lorenzo Morgan.

Memorial Day observations

I had to interrupt my staycation to drive down to Orlando this morning to take care of some personal business anyway, so decided to use the opportunity to observe today's holiday at the old Greenwood Cemetery downtown.

The city was marking the occasion with a variety of events, including an address by Robert Stuart (who will be my city commissioner after I move, hopefully soon).

But, it was more important for me to pay my respects to the many veterans who are buried there.

They include my dad (Lt. Col. Skip Morgan, USAF) and my great-great-great grandfather (Pvt. Edson McClure Blakesley, Co. F, 145th Ohio Volunteers). Indeed, the cemetery is final resting place for many, many veterans of all the wars fought by our nation's armed forces since the Civil War. It is indeed hallowed ground.

It struck me as I was strolling beneath the moss-laden oak canopy at Greenwood, that it is really a very beautiful place.

The sexton, Don Price, informed me that he will be leading a moonlight walking tour of the grounds in just a few weeks. (June 20th, from 9 to 11pm to be precise.) He will be pointing out the graves of the famous, semi-famous, and infamous. (Including Francis Eppes, the favorite grandson of Thomas Jefferson; and baseball legend Joe Tinker.)

But, today was all about paying respect to the lesser known folks who humbly served in their country's uniform so that posterity might enjoy the many freedoms we have around here!

Take some time away from the BBQ to do a little of that yourselves, why don't ya?

The Ides of March

In memorium.

Lt. Col. W.S. "Skip" Morgan, USAF
(16 Oct 1948 - 15 March 2007)

http://www.alz.org

How sick is this?!

Ye socks who have been checking this dryer for a while now know that my father passed away last March.

Well, recently, somebody went to visit his final resting place and left a personal letter for the family at his marker because they didn't have our mailing address.

"Somebody" came across this letter before we did, though. They opened it, took the letter, and put the empty envelope back on Dad's marker. Creepy, huh?

But, ye know how much yours truly enjoys solving a good mystery. And, I've gotten pretty good at it with all the practice I've had over the years.

Anyway, just so that "somebody" knows, we were able to make contact with the person who left the letter. We now know its contents and why you saw fit to leave only an empty envelope.

Trust me, though, none of it was surprising. It fits into your known pattern of behavior of doing creepy things like stealing letters off grave markers.

Just sick.

Dad's birthday

Today would have been my dad's 59th birthday.

This picture was taken on his 1st.

Wish I could find someone to bake me a cake that big . . . but, then, I'd probably be expected to share . . .

Thanks, Be!

I spoke to Be Bateman this afternoon. She wanted to let the family know that she and the UDC were thinking of us as they commemorated Confederate Memorial Day this past weekend.

In addition to marking the graves of all the Confederate veterans out at Greenwood, they also placed a small flag by Dad's marker.

He would have loved that!

More pictures from Saturday

After yesterday's post, I have received some additional photos from Dad's services on Saturday. I have posted them at:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?mode=fromshare&Uc=ow3xb1l.8feinmcd&Uy=4hjp35&Ux=0

Thanks to Cliff Curley

He took these photos of the military honors rendered to Dad this past weekend:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?mode=fromshare&Uc=ow3xb1l.83qkqi9p&Uy=1wurtf&Ux=1

And, he was kind enough to share them with us at breakfast this morning while we discussed the pioneer families project he's working on for our local PBS station (Channel 24).

Dad's online memorial

As mentioned in a previous post, Dad has an online memorial at http://www.mem.com/display/biography.asp?ID=1763049 . For those of you who were unable to attend services this weeknd, you can see all the photos that were featured in his video. (Don't feel too bad, because I've heard from some of the folks sitting in the back of the chapel that they couldn't see them, anyway!) I'm told you may purchase your own copy of the video on DVD thru this site. And, there's also a guestbook.

What a difference 24 hours makes

Ok, I'm not April-Fooling you when I say what a great day it's been around here.

The funeral is over. I'm back at home in Apopka. And, the Gators are going to the national championship game tomorrow!

Hopefully, things will get back on an even keel again.

Thanks to everyone who made yesterday as bearable as possible.

Order of Services for Dad

To commence 10am at Carey Hand Funeral Home on Curry Ford Road. Boy Scouts from Troop 36 to serve as ushers.

Welcome by USAF Chaplain Willie Taylor.

Jonmichael Francis to play "Amazing Grace" on violin.

Richard Morgan and Dot Morgan Burns to sing two duets:
1. "Unclouded Day"
2. "I'll Fly Away"

Children to distribute mementos to select mourners as video memorial plays to the tune "My Old Friend."

Benediction to be delivered by Chaplain Taylor.

Curtis Protective Services to escort funeral procession under direction of Paul Driscoll from the chapel to Greenwood Cemetery, Section A, Lot #48.

Boy Scouts from Troop #36 to serve as honor guard.

Commencement of military honors led by Chaplain Taylor.

Color guard to display flag of the United States.

Color guard to conduct ceremonial folding of flag.

Flag to be presented to next-of-kin by color guard.

Firing squad to issue 9-gun salute.

Live bugler to play "Taps."

Chaplain Taylor to conclude military honors.

Inurnment at direction of sexton Don Price.

Guests to be received in the family home.