Cilla McCain's Blog, page 7

Loretta Lynn Postpones Shows Due to Exhaustion

The First Lady of Country Music and a favorite daughter of the South: Loretta Lynn

Loretta Lynn is 81-years-old and has been entertaining people most of her life. It was announced today that she is worn out and needs a little breather. Get yourself some rest darlin’!

Leave your get well wishes here.

Delphine LaLaurie Was One Evil Bitch

Delphine Lalaurie escaped to Paris to avoid prosecution.

All southern women know that there are two kinds of bitches: the one who is your best friend and the one you wouldn’t give a band-aid to if she was bleeding to death. Delphine LaLaurie was the latter.

Born in Louisiana in 1775 Madame LaLaurie led the charmed life of a New Orleans socialite. Flitting about from party to party, she married three times and bore six children. Along with her last husband Dr. Leonard Louis Nicolas Lalaurie she purchased the residence that became known as The LaLaurie Mansion.

Delphine loved to throw lavish parties complete with live music and an endless array of food. Everyone who was anyone arrived in their finest attire. However, the night of April 10, 1834 brought her charade of southern gentility to a screeching halt.

People had already noticed that even though Delphine was polite to her slaves, they always seemed haggard and scared. The source of their intense fear came to light when it was discovered that a female slave Delphine had chained to the kitchen stove, set the place on fire to escape the house of horrors. When firefighters got the blaze completely out, they were sickened and shocked to find that a room on the third floor of the mansion had been used to torture and kill more than a dozen slaves. Bodies were chained to the walls and mouths were sewn shut – and that’s the mildest act she and her doctor husband committed.

After the gruesome discovery, the people of New Orleans stormed what was left of the LaLaurie Mansion in order to hold Delphine accountable for the sick crimes. However, it was too late. Delphine had disappeared and was never seen or heard from again.

Over the decades, various occupants have moved into The LaLaurie Mansion; a school, furniture store and apartments have all attempted to utilize the residence only to leave as a result of the sound of terror-filled screams and vandalized belongings.

Today, The LaLaurie Mansion continues to fascinate. Actress Kathy Bates portrayed Delphine in the television series American Horror Story and the most recent private owner is actor Nicolas Cage.

Bettie Page: The Sultry Siren of the Southland

Miley honey, give up till you grow up.

The first bonafide pinup queen was southerner Bettie Page.

Long before Miley (bless her heart) Cyrus jiggled her bony butt in an attempt to catch the world’s attention, a woman had to have real curves in order to be considered or marketed as sexy. The original and most enigmatic of the pinup queens was Tennessee born Bettie Page. In her brief career during the 1950′s, she made such a large impact that an entire cult following endures even to this day. As for Bettie, the attention became too intense, prompting her to retreat into her own private world. After she stopped modeling, she lived the rest of her life working as a Christian missionary. Yes, depending on your own personal views, Bettie was outrageous and sometimes raunchy. But we can’t hold that against her. After all, like most southern women, Bettie knew that it was much easier to seek forgiveness than to get permission.

New Movie Trailer: The Voice of Bettie Page Leaps Out of the Shadows

A Modern Day Moonshine War: Popcorn Sutton vs. Jack Daniels

Popcorn Sutton represents the best of the American spirit.

Marvin “Popcorn” Sutton was the last of his kind. A moonshiner from Maggie Valley, NC, Popcorn embodied the Scots-Irish heritage of the original moonshiners who came to America. He believed in working hard and making his own way.

During his life, Popcorn was frequently seen driving around the Maggie Valley area in his antique pick-up truck, wearing his overalls, long trademark beard and a cigarette hanging from his fingertips. Like the moonshiner’s of old, he believed that as an American, he had the right to make and sell his shine without interference from the government. But that didn’t stop ATF agents from busting him many times. The last time being in January 2009.

At the time of his sentencing, he was already dying of cancer. He felt so strongly about his moonshiner heritage, he committed suicide in March 2009, rather than live out his remaining days in prison.

Today, thanks to Hank Williams Jr., Popcorn’s widow, Pam, and a handful of others, the moonshine recipe is finally legit. Operating as a small distillery serving Georgia, Tennessee, Arkansas and Kentucky, it was first sold in authentic Mason Jars. Somewhere along the way, the distillery switched to bottles and that’s when the trouble began. Liquor giant Jack Daniel’s, who has a reputation for ferociously defending its brand, has gone after Popcorn’s estate for – get this – using a black label with white letters they feel are too similar to its own labeling.  Who knew that Jack Daniel’s owned all rights to the use of black labels with white letters? Although the Mason Jars are more original and representative of Popcorn’s persona, Popcorn always dreamed of selling his “likker” in a bottle, stating it was “too good to be in a jar.”

Jack Daniel’s should back off. After all, the label makes no difference, as most consumers are still sober enough to read while they are making their purchase at the local liquor store.

Popcorn Sutton’s shine was originally sold in Mason Jars.

Burnt Sugar Cake

Most southerner’s grew up eating Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house. To us, food is the center of social occasions and should be prepared to satisfy the taste buds, give comfort and to make the most of what’s available.  This burnt sugar cake originates from the colonial days and was a favorite dessert used to bring those old-time Sunday dinners to a close.

Originating from Kentucky, Burnt Sugar Cake is made of pantry basics.

1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup boiling water
2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup butter softened
1 tsp. vanilla
2 1/4 all-purpose flour
3 tsps. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 cup milk

Heat 1/2 cup of the sugar in heavy 8-inch skillet, stirring constantly until sugar is melted and golden brown. Remove from heat, stir in boiling water slowly. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until sugar lumps are dissolved. Add enough water to syrup, if necessary, to measure 1/2 cup; cool.

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Grease and flow two 9-inch or three 8-inch round layer pans. Beat egg whites in small mixer bowl until foamy. Beat in 1/2 cup of the sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time; continue beating until very stiff and glossy. Reserve meringue.

Beat butter, remaining 1/2 cup sugar, the egg yolks and vanilla 30 seconds on low speed in large mixer bowl, scraping bowl constantly. Beat 5 minutes on high speed, scraping bowl occasionally. Beat in syrup. Beat in flower, baking powder and salt alternately with milk. Fold in reserved meringue. Pour into pans.

Bake until inserted wooden pick comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Cool 10 minutes, remove from pans. Cool completely.

Caramel Frosting

2 tablespoons of butter
2/3 packed dark brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup whipping cream
2 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Heat butter in 2-quart saucepan until melted. Stir in brown sugar, salt and cream. Heat to boiling, stirring constantly. Remove from heat; cool to lukewarm. Stir in enough powdered sugar gradually until of spreading consistency. Stir in vanilla. Frost the cake and top with pecans if desired.  Source:Betty Crocker’s Cooking American Style: A Sampler of Heritage Recipes

Letting My Southern Roots Grow

by Cilla McCain

For a long time now, I’ve been writing about injustices military families face. I have two books forthcoming surrounding this issue, and with their publication, I know that I will have said all I can on the topic. Oh, I’ll always be involved as an advocate, and I will passionately nurture these books as if they were my children. But my wandering mind started asking what’s next?

That’s when I remembered the intrusive weed.

You see, when a writer gets an idea, it’s like the planting of a stubborn seed. And if that seed takes root within, it refuses to be ignored, kind of like a weed in a rose garden.

I had such a weed pop up in my writing plans a long time ago. For quite a while, I viewed it as a pain-in-the-ass distraction. The weed is a very different story from what I have been writing, and it did not fit in with my writing goals. It is very Southern, raw and maybe even a little backwoods. Although I won’t reveal what it is about yet, I found myself drawn to it and soon it became a place to which I mentally retreat. When the real world gets too mean to tolerate, I sit down at my keyboard and cultivate the story the weed is trying to tell.

Over the years, I talked about the weed with a few people. I even discussed it with Elyse, a dear Yankee friend who is also my agent’s assistant. She loved the weed. Still, I kept pushing it aside. Then, a couple of things happened that made me realize this weed’s story may be important.

First of all, Yankee Elyse emailed me out of the blue demanding to know when I was going to finish “the weed.” Her faith in it made me take a long pause, and I realized that maybe I should take my little weed more seriously. Then, oddly enough, this realization became more pronounced when a family member alerted me to a website dedicated to the Army’s 8th Armored Division of WWII. Amazingly, the site contains never-before-seen pictures of my grandfather just before he was shipped off to Europe to fight. It was surreal to see this handsome young man, long and lean, with dark hair, ready to go to war. His 19 grandchildren and great-grandchildren were not yet a gleam in his steely blue eyes, and yet here I was, looking at him 60-plus years in the past. It touched a nerve deep within me.

Suddenly, I was flooded with memories of family stories told about Granddaddy’s life in Albany, Ga. One moment he was working in the field among the corn and cotton, the next he was on a ship going to a part of the world he knew nothing about. With all of these memories, it dawned on me that the nagging, stubborn weed I thought didn’t fit in with my writing goals, was actually my Southern roots calling me home.

I don’t know why I was surprised, after all, Southern Gothic literature was my first love. In fact, the first piece of writing that I ever had published was a magical realism short story based on my Granddaddy. But the inspiration didn’t stop with him. The South is full of accomplished storytellers nobody has ever heard of. They’re standing in line with you at the grocery store, fixing your hair, cashing your check at the bank, or walking down the street mumbling to themselves. They are everywhere, carrying around their stories, and you know what? I’m one of them.

Although the completion of the novel springing forth from “the weed” is a long way off, I don’t ignore it anymore. If anything, I’ve recognized it as my very essence and that knowledge has provided a freedom I cannot describe. So, y’all, I guess the point of my story is that you should listen to your own whispers and tend to your weeds. Maybe then youressence will grow roots.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” — Maya Angelou

Justice for Pfc. LaVena Johnson?

PFC LaVena Johnson

It's not easy to shock me anymore, but during a recent a conversation with a former female Marine about military rape, I received the shock of my life when she adamantly stated: "Military rapes are few and far between, and most of these bitches are filing false charges."



Whoa. It's not that I don't believe false charges are sometimes levied. But to say that rapes are few and far between demonstrates the deep-seated denial currently in place. As her words sank in, I suddenly felt my face grow hot, and the distinct image of Pfc. LaVena Johnson's raped and bloodied body surfaced in my mind.



Pfc. Johnson had been in Iraq for six weeks when her dead body was found inside of her tent in July 2005. The autopsy report received by the family from Army CID raised more questions than answers, so her parents, Dr. John Johnson and his wife Linda requested photographs of the death scene. Their suspicions were confirmed when the photos revealed severe injuries such as a broken nose, blackened eye, loose teeth, burns from a corrosive chemical on her genitals, and a gunshot wound to the head. Despite the strange array of injuries, the Army has remained steadfast in its determination that Johnson committed suicide.



Since that time, the Johnson's have attempted to move heaven and earth to get her death reinvestigated by the Army. When that didn't work, they put together their own team of experts. And guess what? It is their opinion that before Pfc. Johnson was murdered, she was raped.



I've known about PFC Johnson's case for a long time. When I started the organization Military Families for Justice along with retired Lt. Colonel Tracy Shue, widow of Colonel Philip Shue USAF, and Kimberly Stahlman, widow of Colonel Michael Stahlman USMC, LaVena's was the first case we featured on our website. Over the years, we have witnessed people turn a blind-eye to the story. So much so, that we've often wondered if LaVena's case would be taken seriously if she were not African-American.



We talk about it often, and every time, the conversation inevitably turns to the movie adaptation of John Grisham's book, A Time to Kill. If you've never seen the movie, a black man kills the white men who raped his little girl. There is a scene when the defense attorney, portrayed by Matthew McConaughey, is giving his closing argument and asks the jury to close their eyes while he describes the brutal rape of his clients little girl. As he guides their imaginations through the horrific, prolonged attack, quiet tears start rolling down their faces. He repeatedly asks "Can you see her?" And just about the time their minds are fully immersed in the raw brutality of what happened to this young black girl, he abruptly switches tactics and tells them to "imagine she is white." This leaves the all-white jury aghast and shocked; emotions they had not expressed when imagining the victim as black. In their minds, it had not been quite as horrible while they pictured a little black girl being raped and beaten.



Despite a considerable amount of media coverage, including a LA Times article by investigative reporter David Zucchino, the Johnson's have not received even a modicum of justice in LaVena's death and I cannot understand why. What's the harm in reopening the investigation? Is it really because -- dare I say -- LaVena is black? The Johnson's have never played the race card in their quest. But I am willing to pull that card. I can't help but wonder if the military investigators and politicians in Washington D.C. would be so blind if she had white skin, blond hair and blue eyes. I suppose this is a question best left to them and their conscious.



Recently, there has been some rumblings of hope as Senator Kirsten Gillibrand (D-N.Y.) introduced legislation to improve the military justice system for rape victims. The problem with this initiative is that it only helps those who are alive and able to speak for themselves. While this could be triumphant for sexual assault victims, it does nothing for alleged victims like LaVena. And how could it? As far as the military system of justice is concerned, LaVena killed herself, and since her family has no independent unbiased forum in which to have their own evidence judged that's the way it will remain.



The answer to this problem may lie in The Bill of Rights for Bereaved Military Families. It's an idea Military Families for Justice has been trying to get introduced to Congress. If adopted, it would provide the independent forum families like the Johnson's need. The concept of giving rights to military families is not new; the United Kingdom already has something very similar in place under its Military Covenant that extends to a service members family, allowing them to speak for the deceased. So why can't the United States do this? The point is not to prove the military right or wrong, its purpose is simply to seek the truth, whatever that may be. We have made many calls to both Senator Gillibrand as well as her co-sponsor Senator Susan Collins (R-Maine). A representative from Collins' office did show genuine interest in the idea and as of this writing we are waiting for their next call. Time will tell.



In the meantime, the dignified determination of the Johnson family soldiers on. Sometimes I wonder how they keep from mentally snapping just like the fictional father in Grisham's story, but they remain dauntless. An example of their courage is visible in the 2010 Midtown Films documentary The Silent Truth. The film deals with the subject of military rape and how it has been swept under the rug for too long. It also reveals the trauma a family endures by simply asking for logical proof. In the film, I was awestruck by Dr. Johnson's fierce love for his daughter as he delivered a warning to the military:

My daughter was beaten, raped, murdered, set on fire and then tried to burn her tent down with her body in it; and your evidence says that. So it will be a cold day in hell before I stop, and I mean that with all my heart.

It is an assault on the very fabric of our nation to ignore the pain, injustice and pleas for help from members of our Armed Services and their families. If you don't believe these tragedies are occurring, open your eyes and look at LaVena.

The Good Marine Corps Wife vs. The United States of America

Col. Mike Stahlman and Kimberly Stahlman

On July 31, 2008, Colonel Michael Ross Stahlman, USMC, was found in his room at Camp Ramadi, Iraq with a gunshot wound to the left side of his head. The right-handed colonel died Oct. 5, 2008. Despite the fact that he never suffered from depression, within hours, investigators labeled the shooting a suicide attempt. They have stuck with that finding to this day, leaving his widow to bear the task of finding the truth.

As a Marine Corps wife, Kimberly Sta...

Out of the Ashes: The Other Spector

Photo courtesy Nicole Audrey Spector



To musicians like Bob Dylan or John Lennon, legendary music producer Phil Spector was the go-to genius who could help make their recordings phenomenal. To the public-at-large he is a deranged individual who should have never been allowed out of his castle. To victim Lana Clarkson's family, he is no doubt evil incarnate.



But to Nicole Audrey Spector, he is simply Dad.



Amid the macabre circus surrounding Phil Spector and the angry mobs calling for his head, Nicole stands out simply by virtue of her normalcy. An up-and-coming writer, she published her first book earlier this year titled, Fifty Shades of Dorian Gray. It's a funny and cleverly written mix of the classic Oscar Wilde novel Dorian Gray with elements of E.L. James's Fifty Shades of Gray. Nicole's words come across as raw and fearless, earning her praise from even the most seasoned novelists.



Still, even as she tries to move forward and build her own life, there is always a dark cloud hovering nearby.



Most recently, in response to HBO's film Phil Spector, Salon.com published a piece written by Nicole titled, "That's not my Dad." In it, she describes with gut-wrenching detail, the moment she learned her father had been charged with murder. It's obvious that the shock was indelible, nevertheless Nicole makes it clear that she believes in her father's innocence.



With hordes of cynics waiting to pounce, baring her soul was a brave move. Comments ranged from supportive to downright cruel. Most were expressing their anger that she spoke out about the film in spite of the admission that she did not watch it. But to me, it was clear that her beef with the film had more to do with the ethical question of naming the film Phil Spector even though "Phil Spector" was not consulted. This is not an uncommon reaction. When filmmakers take dramatic license with real-life events, it leaves them open to this sort of criticism. However, the level of insults lashed out at Nicole seemed to be an effort to punish her for not having had a terrible life with her father. This reaction makes it clear that money and fame cannot shield the offspring of someone serving time in prison from being stigmatized. In "That's not my Dad" her pain is palpable:

He is a prisoner, and this is to be no one in the cruelest and most isolating way. Everything hurts.

I can understand Nicole's need to defend her father, and I admire her courage in doing so. Afterall, by now she knows how some people will react. Why should anyone be surprised or angry by her very human response? Guilty or innocent, having a parent in prison creates a great deal of emotional trauma all by itself, but when that parent is world-famous it must add an extra layer of hell. The pain felt by a prisoner's family is not easily shared in public. Out of fear of being viewed as unsympathetic toward the victim, they isolate themselves:

The murder trials and intensive media coverage that followed -- his first trial was the first to be televised live on CourtTV since O.J. Simpson's -- were an exhausting and convulsive reiteration of the trauma. I was usually numb or angry or having some secret panic attack in the unfeeling fluorescence of a movie theater bathroom.

This young lady is totally blameless. Whether people agree with her views or not, it comes from a pure place. She is not living off a trust fund, and her loyalty to her father was not bought. On the contrary, Nicole Audrey Spector is a talent in her own right, and something tells me she will continue to rise and find a way to channel the experience into her writing.



Who knows, given the chance she might provide the world a literary masterpiece.

The Good Marine Corps Wife vs. The United States of America

On July 31, 2008, Colonel Michael Ross Stahlman, USMC, was found in his room at Camp Ramadi, Iraq with a gunshot wound to the left side of his head. The right-handed colonel died Oct. 5, 2008. Despite the fact that he never suffered from depression, within hours, investigators labeled the shooting a suicide attempt. They have stuck with that finding to this day, leaving his widow to bear the task of finding the truth.



As a Marine Corps wife, Kimberly Stahlman packed up and moved more times than most people could stomach. With each move, she immersed herself into her husband's lifestyle and kept the home fires burning all over the world. While the colonel was climbing the Marine Corps ladder, she put her master's degree in psychology to work by helping to develop the first victim's advocacy group in Okinawa, Japan. She also joined other officers' wives in organizing charity fundraisers and attended endless social events to promote her husband's career. She even stepped forward to assume the role of president of the Parris Island Officers' Spouses Club when it was near collapse because nobody else wanted to assume leadership. She did all of this after enduring a difficult childbirth that left her with multiple health problems. In short, she was the epitome of a good Marine Corps wife.



Today, Kimberly is a Marine Corps widow and has come to believe that a widow's life is one the Marine Corps wants her to live in the shadows. In actuality, she would like to oblige them, but looming large is the ongoing investigation she has conducted into her husband's death. From the beginning, Kimberly didn't believe her husband shot himself and the Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS), made it quite clear that she was on her own in pursuit of any other conclusion. Consequently, she joined forces with forensic experts and amassed considerable scientific evidence alleging that her husband was murdered. Despite this, NCIS has stubbornly refused to consider the new evidence, and informed Kimberly "she could not change their minds no matter what kind of evidence she presents."



Left with no alternative, on Jan. 16, 2013, she filed an Administrative Procedures Action or APA with the U.S. District Court in Maryland. The APA is a law which allows a federal judge to review and reverse the decisions made by governmental agencies. Kimberly's lawsuit accuses the defendants, who include NCIS and the Secretary of Defense with "acting in a manner that is "arbitrary, capricious, an abuse of discretion, or otherwise, not in accordance with law."



Among the forensic issues are the number of shots fired in Colonel Stahlman's room the morning of July 31, 2008. According to court documents, two bullets fired in the room. One went clear through the wall of his trailer and landed in pristine condition in the trailer next door, while another went through the Colonel's head. On the other hand, NCIS claims there was only one bullet fired that terrible morning, and it went through the colonel's head and several walls, before it landed unscathed in the trailer next door. I don't know, but it seems quite miraculous for a bullet to travel through so many obstacles without sustaining any damage.



The suit goes on to allege that investigators "conducted little or no investigation" into at least 20 different matters that would have accompanied a thorough investigation and followed DoD directives. Among them, the number of bullets remaining in the Colonel's 9mm. Apparently, NCIS never counted them and subsequently did not examine his blood-soaked mattress for the presence of a second round. In addition, the suit claims that the blood spatter trajectory contradicts NCIS findings. It seems that Colonel Stahlman's blood sprayed in a different direction from the bullet that NCIS claims killed him. According to the forensic expert, Michael Maloney, this is an impossibility because blood always follows the same path as the bullet that causes the injury.



Whoever the judge deciding the APA turns out to be, he or she will be hard-pressed to not take Kimberly Stahlman seriously. After all, there is a certain irony to her steely determination. Life in the Marine Corps taught her to stand strong in the face of adversity even when the odds are stacked unfavorably. She lives the motto "Semper fi" and as a good Marine wife, has remained faithful. But unlike the Corps, she refuses to dishonor her husband by allowing a substandard investigation to go unchecked.