Lost Another One

In today's newspaper obituaries, I see that yet another former co-worker of mine has passed away. This one I worked with starting 30 years ago this month, for four years...or, more correctly, for four "seasons," since work at the old W. R. Grace granular fertilizer plant was nothing if not seasonal.

Larry was 53.

The Grace plant sat on a site now occupied by a WAL-MART Supercenter in New Albany, IN. On the shipping dock, we bagged and loaded tons of fertilizer onto everything from 1-ton grain trucks to large flatbed semi trailers. I was a bagger operator, and Larry was either a bucket tractor operator--we had a small fleet of Hough/IH bucket tractors, about the size of your average Bobcat, and one John Deere articulated bucket tractor--or a truck loader.
The tractor operators would load the particular variety--maybe 6-24-24 this time, or 10-40-10 the next, or 12-12-12 the next--into the hopper, where it would make its way through the elevatoes and screens until it ended up in the supply hopper for the bagger. The bagger operator would place a bag on the chute, making sure not to clamp his hand in the process, fill the bag, drop it down onto the chain conveyor, and repeat the process. The bag would next go to the sewing machine, where it was stitched shut,and then continue down the line to the belt conveyor, where it was routed uphill until it started back down the roller conveyor, out the door, and onto the truck. There it was stacked, either onto pallets or directly onto the floor of the truck, in an interlocking fashion so that the load would be less likely to shift as the truck made its way to its destination.

For the shipping dock, the "official" shift was from 7 am until 3:30 pm, with a morning break of 15 minutes whenever the "roach coach" showed up, and with a 30-minute lunch from 12 to 12:30. an ACTUAL shift was from 7 am until the last scheduled truck was loaded...which is how I came to spend my first wedding anniversary working until 10:30 pm, arriving home at about 11, just in time to shower and go to bed so I could do it all again the next day.
Larry's sense of humor helped me cope with that disappointment, and he always seemed to be smiling. Larry was known to go out at lunchtime on occasion and "cruise a quart," as we called it, making a trip to the liquor store about a half-mile down the road and having finished a "liquid lunch" of St. Louis' or Milwaukee's best-known product by the time the rest of us were clocking back in. And he might've been there when some of the guys "passed around a fat one" as well, as some of the guys were known to do. But none of it appeared to have a negative effect on his work, as he was always one of the first to retake his position when lunch was over.

After four seasons at Grace, I lost track of Larry. We were different enough that we didn't hang out together, and I have no idea where his life's journey took him this past 26 years. But for a time we were co-workers, and he was one I could count on to get the job done on either side of me.

And so it's difficult to know that another person I'd been able to count on at one point in my life is gone. The obituary was short, with no details concerning survivors, so I don't know whether he has any family to mourn his passing or not. But I wanted to take this opportunity to let people know that folks like Larry don't pass from this world unnoticed, or unappreciated.

Death of John Dewey

Newspaper obituary notices of the death of John Dewey, son of Thomas and Eliza Knight Dewey. Eliza was the daughter of James Knight, and the half-sister of Ebenezer Knight.

From the New Albany Daily Tribune, October 8, 1853:

Died
On Friday morning, the 7th inst. John Dewey. The friends of the family are requested to attend his funeral from the residence of his father, on Main Street between Lower Fourth and Fifth streets, at 2 o'clock PM on Saturday the 8th. Funeral Sermon at the Wesley Chapel.

Funeral Notice
The officers and members of the Osceola Fire Company are notified to attend a called meeting of the Company at their Hall this day at 1 o'clock to attend the funeral of John Dewey.

The different fire companies of the city are respectfully invited to join the Osceola in paying the last sad tribute of respect to the deceased.
John W. Clark,
President, O. F. Co.

The Members of the Hook & Ladder Company are respectfully requested to meet at their hall, at 1 o'clock to-day to attend the Funeral of our deceased Brother, John Dewey, a member of the Osceola company. By order of the Foreman.
B. F. Gravel

The members of Washington, No. 1, Fire Company, will meet at their Engine House. to-day, Saturday, at 1 o'clock, to attend the funeral of Mr. John Dewey, late of the Osceola.
By order of the Company

Sons of Temperance
The members of New Albany Division No. 33, S. of T., are requested to meet at their hall today, Saturday, at 1 o'clock to attend the funeral of Brother John Dewey.
All members of the order are invited to attend.
Wm. B. Jackson, R.S.

Obituary of Hettie Plue Knight

From the New Albany Weekly Ledger, December 11, 1907, page 6, column 1:

The Body of Mrs. Hettie Knight, wife of Charles Knight, a former resident of this city, who died at the Deaconness Hospital, Louisville, Tuesday, was brought here yesterday and taken to the Veron farm west of the city, for burial in the rural cemetery there.

Obituary of Otto Ricketts

From the New Albany Daily Ledger, Wednesday, March 26, 1919:

Funeral of Otto Ricketts

The funeral of Otto Ricketts was held yesterday afternoon at the home of his sister, Mrs. E. R. Harmon, 418 West Seventh Street, under the auspices of Ohioan Tribe of Red Men, of which he was a member. The Rev. W. H.Howerton, pastor of the Main Street Methodist Church, conducted the service and burial was in Fairview Cemetery.

Obituary of Charles A. Knight

From the New Albany Tribune, Wednesday, February 23, 1938:

Charles A. Knight Is Taken By Death

Charles A. Knight, 57, of 418 West Sixth Street, a machinist, died at 3 o'clock Wednesday morning in the residence. He is survived by his widow, Mrs. Gertrude Knight; two daughters, Mrs. Charles Meyer and Miss Jane Knight; three sons, Chester Knight, Leroy Knight, and Charles E. Knight; two brothers, Arthur Knight and William Knight; three sisters, Mrs. Walter Harris, and Mrs. William Doerhoefer and Mrs. Charles Robinson, both of Louisville; and seven grandchildren. The body is at the Schrader Chapel, 1715 East Oak Street, where funeral services will be held at 2 o'clock Friday afternoon. Burial will be in Fairview Cemetery.

Will of Thomas Wesley Knight

I, Thomas W. Knight, Harrison County, Indiana, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, do hereby make my last will and testament as follows.

Item 1: I direct that all my just debts, if any, and funeral expenses, be paid out of any money that may be on hand at the time of my death.

Item 2: I give, bequeath, and devise to my wife, Alice Knight, all of my porperty of any kind and description, including all personal property, money, bonds, real estate and mixed property and all such which I may own at the time of my death to her own absolutely and forever.

Item 3: I hereby appoint my wife, Alice Knight, executrix of the will.

In witness whereof, I hereby set my hand and seal this 4th day of October, 1918.

/s/ Thomas W. Knight [seal]

Will of Ebenezer Knight

I, Ebenezer Knight, being of sound mind and memory make this my last Will and Testament:

Item one: I desire that my wife, Rebecca Ellen, ahsll have all my property Real and Personal to do with the same as she may elect after paying all my just debts. And at her death the residue if any to be equally divided between the children of myself and the said Rebecca E. Knight.

Item two: I direct that all money that may come to my estate shall be deposited in three separate Banks to be selected by my wife Rebecca E. Knight.

Item three: I hereby appoint Daniel J. Bowling and Thomas W. Knight to carry out the provisions of this will.

Signed, sealed and delivered in the presence of R. Bartley, James H. Glasgow, and Ebenezer Knight.
/s/ Ebenezer Knight
/s/ R. Bartley
/s/ James H. Glasgow

Post-Race Thoughts on Daytona 2009

As a longtime NASCAR fan, I had mixed emotions about the ending of the Daytona 500 this year...or, more correctly, the Daytona 380. The race was stopped by NASCAR after a 16-minute rain delay, on lap 152...which makes only 380 of a scheduled 500-mile run.

I always hate to see a rain-shortened race. As a fan, I came to see a 500 mile race, and I feel like anything less shartchanges me. But I also realize that NASCAR can't control the weather any more than I can. In this case, had NASCAR started the race earlier to try to beat the weather--and cut at least 30 minutes out of the insipid 90-minute pre-race television programming--there's a chance they might have gotten in a respectable 425 or 450 miles before the clouds turned loose.

In a way, though, the impending weather did something that NASCAR couldn't have imagined on their own. From about lap 85 on, the drivers actually RACED each other--a novel concept at a restrictor plate race. It was actually an exciting race from that point on, and somehow I think the drivers may have enjoyed that part as much as the fans did. And maybe that's something NASCAR might consider, trying to find a way to get the drivers to actually RACE one another during the middle part of something that's being billed as a RACE. Unfortunately, NASCAR can't count on the weather, so I suppose they might try to figure out something they can insert in their rulebook to actually encourage RACING during a RACE.

As far as the controversial incident between Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Brian Vickers goes, I have several thoughts on that one. In the first place, Junior should never have made the TWO bonehead pit mistakes to have put him in position for the incident to occur. Second, when Vickers moved down to block, Junior finally showed the world that he is the son of "The Intimidator," also known to some of his competitors as "Ironhead," the late, great Dale Earnhardt, Sr. Had he found himself in the same position, I have no doubt whatsoever that Dale Sr. would have punted Vickers just the way Junior did. Junior claims it was accidental contact, but whether it was or not, from where I stand it's good to see Junior showing that some of his daddy's racing DNA actually was passed along. Now, if Junior can just work on changing his new nickname from "Bonehead" to "Ironhead"...that would be a big move towards following in his father's footsteps.

As you can see, I'm a fan of the old-fashioned style of racing. I like it when the drivers are thinking about taking the checkered flag the moment the green flag drops, and not just on the final 20 laps of the race. I find watching the motorized equivalent of a chess match to be disturbingly boring, and lately the NASCAR championships have been won by chess players, and not by racers. After Matt Kenseth claiming the championship a few years back without winning a single race that season, the chess players have been in charge. The single exception to that has been Kyle Busch. Love him or hate him, "Rowdy" Busch has been the kind of driver that has the mindset behind the wheel that is exciting. To go into each race and run for the victory from the start, to challenge for the lead every chance you get...to me, THAT's what racing is all about.

And once NASCAR recognizes that they are sponsoring auto races and not chess matches, perhaps the fans who are now drifting away in droves will return, bringing their wallets with them. For when the actual racing returns, the fans WILL return...and so will the sponsors.

Thoughts on The Incoming President

On Tuesday, January 20, 2009, President-Elect Barack Obama will become President Barack Obama, and a lot of things will change for America. Obama will be the first President of black parentage. I won't call him an African-American for a couple of reasons: one, unless you believe the propaganda that says he was born in Kenya--and is therefore ineligible to become President--he's not from Africa and therefore doesn't qualify for the hyphenated designation; and two, while his father was black, his mother was white...making him biracial, neither all black nor all white.

Unfortunately, there's still something of a racial divide in America, a chasm that still splits this nation 146 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, almost 45 years after the landmark Civil Rights Act, and nearly 41 years after Martin Luther King Jr. became a martyr for the cause of racial equality. For the first 100 years since Lincoln's proclamation, it was primarily the whites who kept this wound open; for the last 45 years, both sides are to blame.

Having grown up in a predominantly rural community, and having been born into a family that sold and serviced tractors and farm equipment, I frequent internet discussion boards that cater to farmers, rural folks, and old tractor enthusiasts. It's a predominantly white crowd, and also predominantly conservative Republicans. The posts on their discussion boards tell me a lot about what rural white America is thinking. And lot of them already don't like the President-Elect; in fact, many of them are already cheering for him and his programs to go down in flames even before any of his legislative agenda has been introduced in Congress.

I tend to take what I consider a more enlightened approach. It's one based upon my own background as a rural white American, but it's at odds with the majority of the opinions I see on these discussion boards. While I grew up in what today would be called a conservative household, my family was strong supporters of the Democratic Party. Not the pro-abortion, pro-homosexual-marriage Democrat Party of today, but the Truman and Kennedy Democrats of 40 and 50 years ago. My own political leanings are Libertarian [that all citizens have all rights not specifically ceded to the government], although I really think the political parties as we know them should all be outlawed and a better system for selecting our leaders devised.

From that background, my opinion is that a Barack Obama presidency is an opportunity. It's a chance to teach Americans--not just black Americans, and not just white Americans, but ALL Americans--that our stereotypical views of other Americans are holding us back from becoming all that we, as a nation, can be. Black America, and White America, take note:

Barack Obama didn't get where he is by embracing "gangsta" culture. He doesn't wear his trousers below his underwear. He doesn't wear chains and "bling" around his neck. He doesn't emulate the "thug" demographic. He doesn't speak "ebonics," but rather sounds as educated as he is. He didn't get where he is by covering his teeth with "grills."

He got where he is by working within the existing system. He conformed to the dress code, he learned, he studied, he took advantage of the opportunities that presented themselves to him, and he learned to play the game of politics better than his competition. He didn't complain about how "da Man" was keeping him down, or holding him back. He learned how the system works, and he took "da Man" to school, and beat him at his own game.

And by doing so, Barack Obama is now "da Man."

And so at this point, a couple of days before the Obama inauguration, I think it's safe to say that Obama is going to be the "no excuses" President. As in, there's no excuse for anyone, black or white, to claim that he cannot become whatever he chooses to be in America, simply because of his race or ethnic background. Barack Obama is living proof that any American who is willing to conform to the mold, who is willing to avail themselves of the educational opportunities in America, who is willing to speak rational thoughts in coherent sentences, can attain and achieve goals far beyond those available to previous generations of Americans.

The example of Barack Obama flies in the face of the pimp/"ho"/thug/gangsta model that too much of young black--and white--America embraces. He is, I repeat, the product of conforming to the model of white American success, embracing education, embracing the "uniform" of the business community, their clean-cut look, their speech and mannerisms.

And perhaps that's why so many in rural white America fear him. He looks just like the bankers and lawyers and stockbrokers that many rural Americans haven't trusted since at least the Great Depression, and yet he's also biracial/black. And these folks cast a wary eye on the preparations for the inauguration, deriding Obama as the (small-m)"messiah" who has led the welfare class to their own version of the Promised Land. Since Obama's election, sales of guns and ammunition are off the charts, as many rural whites believe that after Tuesday their Second Amendment rights will be immediately rescinded by some despotic act of a power-crazed dictator. Personally, I have no idea where that idea originates, and find it completely illogical. I mean, we can't even get this Congress to agree whether or not to help the auto industry; how can we expect instantaneous agreement on something as controversial as gutting the Second Amendment? And remember, it was Nixon, and later Cheaney, who espoused the doctrine that if the President does it, it can't be illegal; it certainly hasn't been the Democrats who have been proponents of that view of presidential power.

I suppose in the coming days, weeks, and months we'll have the opportunity to see just what an Obama presidency will bring. Let us hope that this new beginning will bring forth an era of cooperation between the races, and that there will soon no longer be reason for any of us to be described as any sort of hyphenated Americans. Let us hope that all Americans can find it in their hearts to unite toward a common goal, that of a strong and unified America...one that embraces Dr.King's dream of an America where the color of one's skin is unimportant, and one in which we all display a content of character in which we can take a justifiable pride.

Class Reunions ARE For Everyone

As I look out my window today, it's another overcast morning in
Southern Indiana, with a dusting of snow on the ground, and a few
more flurries coming down. But that means we're only weeks away from
the season of class reunions and alumni banquets! If my old
calculator is correct, the classes of '69 and '74 will have a couple
of significant milestones coming up...as well as the half-century
mark for '59...and James Best, Corydon's best-known alumnus, will
have a 65-year reunion going on with his Class of 1944!

On a related note, when contacting some classmates about reunions, I
sometimes hear comments along the lines: "Well, those people [my
classmates] didn't care much for me when I was in school; why should
I care about getting together with them now?" And I think I have an
answer to that.

When I was in grade school and junior high, I was teased
unmercifully. Some kids did some downright mean things to me, and
some did them on a daily basis. If anyone who ever attended Corydon
schools ever had a right to make a comment like the one above, that
would be me. But as I've grown older, I'd like to think I've grown
up...at least a little. And as I've grown, I've learned that the
heaviest burden you can carry in life is a grudge.

Sure, some of the things I suffered in school at the hands of
classmates were indignities that nobody should have to suffer. But I
realize that the folks who did these things to me were ONLY KIDS then,
too. They've grown up, as I did, and many of them have suffered
through medical problems, business problems, marital problems, and
family tragedies that are way beyond any snubs any of us suffered in
school.

A little forgiveness goes a long way.

In fact, if I judged all class reunions by my class' 10-year reunion,
I probably wouldn't have returned to any others. At the 10-year
reunion, I felt like the primary purpose of many folks was to
say, "Look at me!!! Look at how fabulous my life is!!!" At the time,
I'd just been laid off from my job, and it was pretty much all I
could do to scrape together the spare money to go to the reunion, and I had SO little to brag about. But then, it's hard to look down on people--which is essentially what bragging is about--when you're near the bottom yourself.

But at the 20-year reunion, the atmosphere was totally different. It
wasn't about impressing folks, it was about getting to see old
friends again. It was less a game of "Look at ME!!!" and more a
spirit of "Good to see ya!" " How are ya?" " DAMN, you look old!" [OK, I
was kidding about that last one...but only a little]. Discovering
that our favorite high-school hottie had developed a pair of "thunder-
thighs", or that Miller Lite had made some of the jocks a little
more "well-rounded" than we'd imagined, took a back seat to catching
up on where life had taken us since graduation. We laughed, we
reminisced about toilet-papering the coach's house, talked about our kids, and we enjoyed the company of the folks who were the biggest part of our lives for 4, 8, or 12 or more years of our lives.

So, based upon my experiences, I just can't understand why anyone
would carry what's essentially a childhood grudge so far into
adulthood. If anyone had a reason to do so, it'd be me. But
then, I'd miss all the time spent with friends at these
reunions...friends who were having just as hard a time as I was, in
different ways, in figuring out how to get through school, and life,
on a daily basis. I'll admit I made my share of mistakes growing up;
and it would be simply wrong of me not to allow for, and in these
days overlook, the mistakes of those who shared a gym class or a
study hall or a math class with me.

After all, we're only human, and life's too short to carry grudges.

So when you have the chance, GO to your class reunion. Chances are, the
folks you thought were jerks have probably gotten a lot wiser, and a
bit more mellow, over the years. And maybe you'll discover that you
have, too. And if you get the chance to dance to the music of your
era, and sing along with the records or CD's, sing as loud as you
can, and dance the way you wanna dance. People will remember what
you DID a lot longer than they'll remember what you DIDN'T do...and
as my great aunt always said, nobody ever built a statue of someone
for what he DIDN'T do.

So go to that reunion...be yourself...and get to know the people your
classmates are TODAY. You'll be surprised at how the conversations
seldom touch on how big someone's house is, or how many cars they
have, or how important their job is. But there'll be a lot of
demonstrations of how important their FRIENDS are. Stop carrying that grudge; lay down that burden; throw away that anchor that's been holding YOU back, but doing so little to the "intended" victims!!!

Go ahead and go to that class reunion...I promise it'll be worth it.