Nathaniel Robert Winters's Blog: Not Quite Kosher, page 3
October 19, 2015
Vietnam
Nathaniel Robert Winters
An essay on my thoughts about Vietnam
I’m not writing this as the 20 year old participant in the war but as a historian that spent over thirty years exploring and thinking about this important part of our past. Most historians believe now the U.S. involvement in Vietnam was a major mistake. I agree.
American involvement started by backing the French Colonial forces against the communist Viet Min led by French schooled Ho Chi Min. It was believed by the Eisenhower administration that if the Viet Min won, the country would become another communist domino to fall adding to a stack that threated “freedom” throughout the world. What they failed to understand was not all Communists were created equal.
Ho Chi Min had learned about Marxian communism in France and was much more of a modern European socialist than a Stalin style soviet. Further, the Vietnamese had a historical distrust of the Chinese.
Recently, Robert McNamara, a major contributor of encouraging the John Kennedy Administration to get involved and send in “advisors” admitted he did not understand the enemy. In study, my research leads me to believe Ho Chi Min was more like a Jeffersonian freedom idealist than a Stalin style Communist.
The Vietnamese hero General Gap was a brilliant strategist. He ran successful campaigns against the Japanese during WWII, defeated the French Imperialists and then became a thorn in the side of the American military for years.
Gap’s plan came to be one of harassing the stronger US forces using both the North Vietnamese army and the Viet Cong but avoiding major battles he could not win. Sound familiar? It should. It’s the same strategy General George Washington used against the British (the most powerful country in the world at the time, just like the US post WWII).
Ho Chi Min also misjudged the US ambitions in his home country.
We were not imperialistic in the European tradition. The United States had just given the Philippines independence. Our interests involved trade, which if Ho understood this, he probably could have lived with those ambitions.
An American plus became a problem. The U.S. had an overwhelming advantage in air power. The military overestimated that benefit. They should have learned from WWII that air power alone does not win wars. Germany could not defeat Britain with its air advantage early in the war and the Allies could not defeat Germany or Japan with air power alone until Japan was faced with nuclear annihilation.
Also, the U.S. was forced to fight a defensive war. In fighting the Korean War, MacArthur told Truman not to worry about the Chinese Communist forces. If the Chinese attacked as they had warned, Mac Arthur was confident in the superiority of his troops and that they would decimate the Chinese. He was very wrong. The Chinese, with an almost unending supple of soldiers could stalemate U.S. forces in a war of attrition. In Vietnam, the American command was afraid to attract a war with China by invading North Vietnam. So they played defense. It was a recipe for failure.
There was also a problem with overconfidence. America was a superpower. Vietnam was not. They defeated the French, so what. The U. S. was not the French. Somehow, America forgot how difficult it is to fight and win a war.
The war dragged on, through years and administrations, with lies from leaders leaked to the press. With no end in sight many Americans turned against the war. President Johnson gave it up by not running for re-election. Nixon ran, promising he had a secret plan to end the war. He did not.
The question should be, not why the U.S. lost the war, but why it started.
An essay on my thoughts about Vietnam
I’m not writing this as the 20 year old participant in the war but as a historian that spent over thirty years exploring and thinking about this important part of our past. Most historians believe now the U.S. involvement in Vietnam was a major mistake. I agree.
American involvement started by backing the French Colonial forces against the communist Viet Min led by French schooled Ho Chi Min. It was believed by the Eisenhower administration that if the Viet Min won, the country would become another communist domino to fall adding to a stack that threated “freedom” throughout the world. What they failed to understand was not all Communists were created equal.
Ho Chi Min had learned about Marxian communism in France and was much more of a modern European socialist than a Stalin style soviet. Further, the Vietnamese had a historical distrust of the Chinese.
Recently, Robert McNamara, a major contributor of encouraging the John Kennedy Administration to get involved and send in “advisors” admitted he did not understand the enemy. In study, my research leads me to believe Ho Chi Min was more like a Jeffersonian freedom idealist than a Stalin style Communist.
The Vietnamese hero General Gap was a brilliant strategist. He ran successful campaigns against the Japanese during WWII, defeated the French Imperialists and then became a thorn in the side of the American military for years.
Gap’s plan came to be one of harassing the stronger US forces using both the North Vietnamese army and the Viet Cong but avoiding major battles he could not win. Sound familiar? It should. It’s the same strategy General George Washington used against the British (the most powerful country in the world at the time, just like the US post WWII).
Ho Chi Min also misjudged the US ambitions in his home country.
We were not imperialistic in the European tradition. The United States had just given the Philippines independence. Our interests involved trade, which if Ho understood this, he probably could have lived with those ambitions.
An American plus became a problem. The U.S. had an overwhelming advantage in air power. The military overestimated that benefit. They should have learned from WWII that air power alone does not win wars. Germany could not defeat Britain with its air advantage early in the war and the Allies could not defeat Germany or Japan with air power alone until Japan was faced with nuclear annihilation.
Also, the U.S. was forced to fight a defensive war. In fighting the Korean War, MacArthur told Truman not to worry about the Chinese Communist forces. If the Chinese attacked as they had warned, Mac Arthur was confident in the superiority of his troops and that they would decimate the Chinese. He was very wrong. The Chinese, with an almost unending supple of soldiers could stalemate U.S. forces in a war of attrition. In Vietnam, the American command was afraid to attract a war with China by invading North Vietnam. So they played defense. It was a recipe for failure.
There was also a problem with overconfidence. America was a superpower. Vietnam was not. They defeated the French, so what. The U. S. was not the French. Somehow, America forgot how difficult it is to fight and win a war.
The war dragged on, through years and administrations, with lies from leaders leaked to the press. With no end in sight many Americans turned against the war. President Johnson gave it up by not running for re-election. Nixon ran, promising he had a secret plan to end the war. He did not.
The question should be, not why the U.S. lost the war, but why it started.
September 3, 2015
Summer
Nathaniel Robert Winters
Summer
Summer’s so very sexy
long tanned legs stretch naked
below thin fabric - tiny cups - scarlet red bikini
sun touches flesh perspiration appears
skin glows uninhibited sensual
dark sunglasses hide sky-blue eyes
golden-blond locks shimmer
like sunflower petal’s floral display
boys buzz by like honeybees
She leads latest toy to shade
under boardwalk she steals a kiss
smiles amused then devours him
above hot dogs sizzle on the grill
french fries dive into steaming oil
she encourages exploration of hills and valleys
like he’s a sports car driving the coastal highway
Sun slowly sinks until swimming
aglow in waves of cold water
Summer sashays away hips swaying
too cool to turn
throws hand up waves goodbye
Summer
Summer’s so very sexy
long tanned legs stretch naked
below thin fabric - tiny cups - scarlet red bikini
sun touches flesh perspiration appears
skin glows uninhibited sensual
dark sunglasses hide sky-blue eyes
golden-blond locks shimmer
like sunflower petal’s floral display
boys buzz by like honeybees
She leads latest toy to shade
under boardwalk she steals a kiss
smiles amused then devours him
above hot dogs sizzle on the grill
french fries dive into steaming oil
she encourages exploration of hills and valleys
like he’s a sports car driving the coastal highway
Sun slowly sinks until swimming
aglow in waves of cold water
Summer sashays away hips swaying
too cool to turn
throws hand up waves goodbye
June 12, 2015
Black Knight is coming.
Chapter 1 Man in Shadows
He was invisible, just another shadow in the darkness, dressed head-to-toe in black, hiding, waiting for the dream to reappear. He’d seen it, all too clearly, in his dream.
Were they dreams or nightmares?
He knew this was the place it would happen.
One hour from midnight he’d seen her emerge from the BART station. She walked quickly, heels clicking on the sidewalk. Her assailant was now behind her, just feet away, the dark skin of both almost invisible in the blackness of night.
In another moment the knife would be at her throat.
The movement was quick, never leaving the shadows. His cane came down on the back of the assailant’s neck. The man fell, knife clanging bell-like on the sidewalk. She saw his shadow moving quickly away, and knew he had saved her.
“Who are you?”
She heard his doppler voice. “I am the black of night.”
Kathy Linden didn’t stop running until she was safe in her apartment. Then she called 911. Berkeley Police found an unconscious man and his knife on the Shattuck Street sidewalk.
The assault was recorded on the back pages of the Chronicle and the end of the local newscasts. She called him the Black Knight. In his dream, her death and her blood spilled across the front pages of the newspaper and the beginnings of the local newscasts.
He was invisible, just another shadow in the darkness, dressed head-to-toe in black, hiding, waiting for the dream to reappear. He’d seen it, all too clearly, in his dream.
Were they dreams or nightmares?
He knew this was the place it would happen.
One hour from midnight he’d seen her emerge from the BART station. She walked quickly, heels clicking on the sidewalk. Her assailant was now behind her, just feet away, the dark skin of both almost invisible in the blackness of night.
In another moment the knife would be at her throat.
The movement was quick, never leaving the shadows. His cane came down on the back of the assailant’s neck. The man fell, knife clanging bell-like on the sidewalk. She saw his shadow moving quickly away, and knew he had saved her.
“Who are you?”
She heard his doppler voice. “I am the black of night.”
Kathy Linden didn’t stop running until she was safe in her apartment. Then she called 911. Berkeley Police found an unconscious man and his knife on the Shattuck Street sidewalk.
The assault was recorded on the back pages of the Chronicle and the end of the local newscasts. She called him the Black Knight. In his dream, her death and her blood spilled across the front pages of the newspaper and the beginnings of the local newscasts.
December 17, 2014
Past the Future wigit Chap.1 & 2
Past the Future
Nathaniel Robert Winters
Past the Future, Copyright © 2014 by Nathaniel Robert Winters. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles
and reviews.
For information, please address:
rwinters2350@yahoo.com
Buffalo Printing Company of the Napa Valley
Copyright 2014 by Nathaniel Robert Winters
“Those who do not study history are bound to repeat it. Those who study history are bound to repeat it unless they change it.”
Nathaniel Robert Winters
Chapter 1
2125 AD
I’m so groggy but try to focus. Where am I? How did I get here? A strange elevator music played in my head, without earphones, or any noticeable speaker. I hear an advertisement, with a totally absurd and scary notion. It grabs my attention and shakes me awake:
Sony-Audi-Google--SAG--is proud to unveil the latest in baby technology for 2125. As everyone knows, you must start a new baby with a great mother-board. Our new model comes with our new improved mother-board with 1,000,000 gigs of RAM with the latest in stem cell developments. SAG’s new “Jordish” model comes with an asexual uni-body, patent pending, guaranteed to last 200 years or 1,000,000 miles, whichever comes first. All races’ genetic codes are included, and the new model adds five new skin shades for a total choice of 50 glorious colors. The new mother-board put last year’s brain-core to shame, with twice the memory and three times the speed. No need for that old embarrassing, messy sex. Sexual problems are distant memories as our uni-body is totally sex free. This new model does not need clumsy breast, penis or vaginal tissues. Your new baby now comes from the most sterile assembly line, fed the best liquid nutrition. No breast milk needed.
For those who miss or want intercourse, we also deliver all the sex you desire, beamed to your brain in seconds, orgasm guaranteed.
So when you are ready to complete your family, think of Sony-Audi-Google. Remember: “When you are ready, SAG is ready for you.”
Yes, I am awake now. What in the hell was that? It’s the first thing I hear as I come out of my induced coma. It appears I am a twenty-first century man waking up in the twenty-second century.
***
The United States, which by 2052 included Canada and Mexico, returned to manned space flight after The United Arab States started their space program. There’s nothing like a new cold war to induce space innovation. The Arabs and all their oil money decided to explore space and wanted to land on one of Saturn’s or Jupiter’s moons to look for natural resources. Most commodities on earth were getting scarce.
The last thing I can remember -- before my mind picked up this baby advertisement --I was rocketing on an experimental flight to Titan, Saturn’s biggest moon. My robot companion, Mercury, named after the first group of US manned spaceships, warned: “Dave, something is seriously wrong with the spaceship. Fuel has been leaking. I am going to implement emergency alternative ‘Van-Winkle.’”
“Are you sure, Mercury? That’s a pretty radical program,” I said.
It would mean all other options for safe returns to Earth were not available. It would put me into an induced coma, inside a life-support bubble. The ship’s other programs would be shut down and I would drift in space until NASA Control could find some way to rescue me. This alternative was experimental. While the Van Winkle program had been coded into this type of spacecraft, it had never been used. It was the last resort for a desperate situation.
“Yes, Dave, that is the only way to save you. I am sorry. Good luck Dave. You will be asleep in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2….”
Chapter 2
A Brave New World?
Consciousness comes in this new century. That ad slapped me awake. Hospital buzzers sounded and a team of workers come running to my aid.
“Welcome to 2125,” the strange looking man said with what I think is a smile. “I am Jordish-Michael 7062, your lead doctor. You are a lucky man. Virgin-Boeing Space found your spacecraft drifting outside the solar system. They pulled your craft back to earth.
“An examination shows that your central nervous system was still alive. Our stem cell technology replaced all your damaged body systems.”
The new-style man talking to me had a humongous head. His skin was bright green. Each of his hands had seven fingers: four fingers and three opposing thumbs.
“Thank you,” is all I could manage to say, totally unnerved and shocked, as I realize I had been drifting in space for 73 years.
***
My skeletal system has been replaced and must harden. Organs have been repaired or replaced. I’m told I will have the body of a healthy 25-year-old man when everything heals.
Trapped in the hospital, I am beamed modern novels and watch teleported shows about society in the 22nd century. War and disease are a thing of the past. The new models of humanity have been genetically programed to cooperate. They are amazingly intelligent. Genetic engineering has defeated mental illness.
With all these advancements, I feel something is missing. The architecture, dance and music of this culture are beautiful but boringly similar. Everything looks and sounds the same, lacking what 20th century rockers called soul. It sounds like elevator music.
After more 22nd century novels are beamed to my brain, I realize what is missing. Without the crazy genotype, they have lost the rebels, true creators. These modern “humans” are genetically programed to get along, go with the flow. Innovation is sacrificed. Radical change in style is stifled. There are no Kurt Vonneguts, Thomas Jeffersons, H. G. Wells or Susan B. Anthonys in this environment. Without mutation and natural selection, humanity seems stuck on a treadmill going nowhere.
Unfortunately, I have more immediate and personal worries. I have to get out of this God-forsaken hospital. But I’m trapped. My new bones are not yet hardened enough for me to walk. Jordish-Michael 7062 is planning to do surgery on me tomorrow, modernizing me. I’m getting an antenna implanted.
And 7062 also scheduled surgery to remove my “unnecessary” penis.
Nathaniel Robert Winters
Past the Future, Copyright © 2014 by Nathaniel Robert Winters. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles
and reviews.
For information, please address:
rwinters2350@yahoo.com
Buffalo Printing Company of the Napa Valley
Copyright 2014 by Nathaniel Robert Winters
“Those who do not study history are bound to repeat it. Those who study history are bound to repeat it unless they change it.”
Nathaniel Robert Winters
Chapter 1
2125 AD
I’m so groggy but try to focus. Where am I? How did I get here? A strange elevator music played in my head, without earphones, or any noticeable speaker. I hear an advertisement, with a totally absurd and scary notion. It grabs my attention and shakes me awake:
Sony-Audi-Google--SAG--is proud to unveil the latest in baby technology for 2125. As everyone knows, you must start a new baby with a great mother-board. Our new model comes with our new improved mother-board with 1,000,000 gigs of RAM with the latest in stem cell developments. SAG’s new “Jordish” model comes with an asexual uni-body, patent pending, guaranteed to last 200 years or 1,000,000 miles, whichever comes first. All races’ genetic codes are included, and the new model adds five new skin shades for a total choice of 50 glorious colors. The new mother-board put last year’s brain-core to shame, with twice the memory and three times the speed. No need for that old embarrassing, messy sex. Sexual problems are distant memories as our uni-body is totally sex free. This new model does not need clumsy breast, penis or vaginal tissues. Your new baby now comes from the most sterile assembly line, fed the best liquid nutrition. No breast milk needed.
For those who miss or want intercourse, we also deliver all the sex you desire, beamed to your brain in seconds, orgasm guaranteed.
So when you are ready to complete your family, think of Sony-Audi-Google. Remember: “When you are ready, SAG is ready for you.”
Yes, I am awake now. What in the hell was that? It’s the first thing I hear as I come out of my induced coma. It appears I am a twenty-first century man waking up in the twenty-second century.
***
The United States, which by 2052 included Canada and Mexico, returned to manned space flight after The United Arab States started their space program. There’s nothing like a new cold war to induce space innovation. The Arabs and all their oil money decided to explore space and wanted to land on one of Saturn’s or Jupiter’s moons to look for natural resources. Most commodities on earth were getting scarce.
The last thing I can remember -- before my mind picked up this baby advertisement --I was rocketing on an experimental flight to Titan, Saturn’s biggest moon. My robot companion, Mercury, named after the first group of US manned spaceships, warned: “Dave, something is seriously wrong with the spaceship. Fuel has been leaking. I am going to implement emergency alternative ‘Van-Winkle.’”
“Are you sure, Mercury? That’s a pretty radical program,” I said.
It would mean all other options for safe returns to Earth were not available. It would put me into an induced coma, inside a life-support bubble. The ship’s other programs would be shut down and I would drift in space until NASA Control could find some way to rescue me. This alternative was experimental. While the Van Winkle program had been coded into this type of spacecraft, it had never been used. It was the last resort for a desperate situation.
“Yes, Dave, that is the only way to save you. I am sorry. Good luck Dave. You will be asleep in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2….”
Chapter 2
A Brave New World?
Consciousness comes in this new century. That ad slapped me awake. Hospital buzzers sounded and a team of workers come running to my aid.
“Welcome to 2125,” the strange looking man said with what I think is a smile. “I am Jordish-Michael 7062, your lead doctor. You are a lucky man. Virgin-Boeing Space found your spacecraft drifting outside the solar system. They pulled your craft back to earth.
“An examination shows that your central nervous system was still alive. Our stem cell technology replaced all your damaged body systems.”
The new-style man talking to me had a humongous head. His skin was bright green. Each of his hands had seven fingers: four fingers and three opposing thumbs.
“Thank you,” is all I could manage to say, totally unnerved and shocked, as I realize I had been drifting in space for 73 years.
***
My skeletal system has been replaced and must harden. Organs have been repaired or replaced. I’m told I will have the body of a healthy 25-year-old man when everything heals.
Trapped in the hospital, I am beamed modern novels and watch teleported shows about society in the 22nd century. War and disease are a thing of the past. The new models of humanity have been genetically programed to cooperate. They are amazingly intelligent. Genetic engineering has defeated mental illness.
With all these advancements, I feel something is missing. The architecture, dance and music of this culture are beautiful but boringly similar. Everything looks and sounds the same, lacking what 20th century rockers called soul. It sounds like elevator music.
After more 22nd century novels are beamed to my brain, I realize what is missing. Without the crazy genotype, they have lost the rebels, true creators. These modern “humans” are genetically programed to get along, go with the flow. Innovation is sacrificed. Radical change in style is stifled. There are no Kurt Vonneguts, Thomas Jeffersons, H. G. Wells or Susan B. Anthonys in this environment. Without mutation and natural selection, humanity seems stuck on a treadmill going nowhere.
Unfortunately, I have more immediate and personal worries. I have to get out of this God-forsaken hospital. But I’m trapped. My new bones are not yet hardened enough for me to walk. Jordish-Michael 7062 is planning to do surgery on me tomorrow, modernizing me. I’m getting an antenna implanted.
And 7062 also scheduled surgery to remove my “unnecessary” penis.
December 5, 2014
Roger Raintree Update Add
Roger Raintree’s Summertime Blues
Nathaniel Robert Winters
The summer of 2014 was the strangest summer of my life. It didn’t start out that way. I was having a normal summer, played Babe Ruth league baseball, went on bike rides and in July my family went camping with the Fishers. You know normal stuff. Even my new sister, Lisa, seemed to be doing okay.
After my interesting and weird year in the seventh grade, it seemed nice to just do regular kid stuff. Then, the Ferguson thing happened. Boy oh boy, that changed everything. You might have heard about it in the on the TV news or by reading a newspaper. But if you’re like most of my friends you don’t pay that much attention to the news unless something happens in your town. So, like I said this was a very strange summer.
On the night of August 9, a man named Michael Brown was killed by a policeman, Darren Wilson in Ferguson, Missouri. Michael was 18 years old. Ferguson is just outside of St. Louis and isn’t very far from Middletown. That’s where I live.
Another sad part of this story was that Michael was black and did not have a weapon. Mr. Wilson, the policeman who shot him was white. We feel like this whole area is part of our hometown.
Now, I learned last year that you don’t want to come to any fast judgments about things. I wrote my story last year about how the Middletown police really helped me. I also learned last year that the police can make big mistakes.
A bunch of us spent the day after the shooting watching the news on TV. All the stations had it on for hours and hours.
My family talked about Ferguson all through dinner.
My dad said, “There’s something fishy about the police officer’s story.” Mom made salmon for dinner so we all looked down at the fish on our plates and laughed. I think the laugh made us feel better.
I said, “They have been saying that the cop felt threatened and he fired his gun because he had to but that doesn’t seem right because Michael Brown didn’t have a gun or even a knife.”
"It could be that the officer was just paranoid after all the trauma he has seen on the police force.” Mom said.
“What does paranoid mean?" I asked.
“It means that he was in the state of being scared all the time. Like soldiers with battle fatigue or PTSD," Mom said.
Lisa said with a bit of anger, “maybe he was just a racist SOB like my father.”
Dad said in a very calm voice, “it’s obvious that the police officer made a huge mistake but until all the facts are in let’s give him the benefit of doubt."
My brother Joey, who is also called Big Bird, said, “A lot of our friends are upset about this. We don’t think what’s going on in Ferguson's fair. Some of the kids are planning to go over and picket for justice."
“Is Sarah one of the friends you’re talking about?” Mom asked.
Big Bird and I exchanged a look, I nodded. “You know Sarah. If she thinks something is not fair, she wants to take action.”
Dad asked, “Are you telling me that you all want to go?”
I said, “Sarah thinks we have to go. I agree, especially after we did our Pride Day at school last year.”
“What do you think Lisa?” Mom asked.
“I think I’m learnin’ from you all, if you ain’t helping people, you’re part of the problem.”
Dad smiled and winked at Lisa. “I can see how important this all is to you. The organizers of the rally tomorrow are committed to nonviolence. I would let you go but I am worried that things might get out of control."
"Ah dad!" Joey whined.”
Dad held up his hand. “Hey, I didn’t say you guys couldn’t go. As a matter of fact I’m going with you.”
***
I can tell you, I didn’t sleep much that night. I wasn’t dumb, I knew there were some bad guys that lived in Ferguson. You know, gangbanger types that you hear about in rap music and it made me a little nervous. But I knew some nice kids from Ferguson, my baseball team played ball there in July. Their team had white and black guys. They won the game and we all went out for pizza afterwards. It was a fun day. So I found out last night that Ferguson is mostly black but has a lot of white people too.
Some people on the TV said that Michael Brown was one of the bad guys. I didn’t know if that was true or not. In this case it shouldn’t matter. Even if he did bad things, the police should not be shooting at unarmed people.
I woke up real early. So I showered, got dressed and went to the front porch just as the sun was coming up. The cool air got warm real fast and I was already starting to sweat, just another hot and sweaty Missouri day without a cloud in sight.
I heard the screen door open and Lisa sat down next to me. “You okay?" I asked.
Lisa came to live with us after her father and brother were arrested. Her mother took off somewhere and she was left alone. To make a long story short, my parents stepped in and adopted her.
She looked at me with funny smile, shrugged her shoulders then started to say something and stopped. We were both still a little shy with each other. She was just a year younger than me and will be going into seventh grade. She went from being someone I kinda knew at school to being my sister overnight. It was a bit of a shock for both of us.
I could see her thinking. “What?” I said and waited.
“Ya know, my Uncle Carl lived in Ferguson when I was little. When the ni. . . blacks moved in, he moved out. My daddy and him just went on and on and on about it like it was the end of the world. Then Uncle Carl sold the gas station and moved to Mississippi where he said those people still know their place.” Two tears slowly streamed down her face. “I don’t want to be like them, it all sounds so evil, donn’ it.”
“Wow Lisa you are so brave. You know you don’t have to come with us."
She smiled. “Roger, don’t you see I really have to."
“Well Lisa, I’m proud of you.”
The crickets started humming in the background. It’s funny cause even when they get loud you mostly don’t notice them but that morning I did. A mosquito started buzzing. I felt it on my neck and slapped leaving a small bloody spot on my hand. “We’d better go in." I said to Lisa.
***
Sarah Fisher joined our group as we piled in the SUV. Our families have always been best friends. Sarah has a younger black brother, adopted after the Haitian earthquake.
Our car zoomed past the few freeway ramps between Middletown and Ferguson in no time at all. The picketing yesterday had been peaceful but by night things turned bad with rocks being pitched at the police and some people got out of control. We could still smell some teargas that the police used break it all up.
We signed up at the NCAA desk. A black man who wore a white shirt and a tie said to a group of about 20 of us, “welcome friends. My name is Tony Larkins and I will be your group leader. Stay with me at all times unless you hear the word ‘Disperse.’ Now please raise your right hand and repeat these words. I promise to be nonviolent during this protest.”
We all repeated his words.
“Thank you," he said, “We are going to march up and down the street for the next two hours. You may take a button or sign from the table. Does everybody understand?"
“Yes." Everyone shouted.
Just about eleven in the morning, all the groups came together and we started marching. I guess there are about 1000 people black-and-white. I started to get so nervous I could barely walk. Then I saw in front of our group, a bunch of troublemakers on one side were throwing rocks and cussing at the line of police wearing helmets on the other side. I went from being nervous to being a little scared.
The leaders of our march called out with bullhorns: “Stay together follow your leaders.” Somehow they marched us right between the police and the troublemakers. There we stopped and I wondered what would happen next. Both sides it seemed, pretended like we were not there. Bottles and stones flew above us towards the police line and the police came at us with batons. Then teargas exploded. Even though wasn’t right near me my eyes watered and I started coughing. It was awful. I started running evening before I heard from the bullhorns, “Disperse!”
Dad yelled, “Run follow me. Meet at the car.”
People took off in all directions with police chasing them One cop chased my dad who tripped and fell. The policeman was on top of him with his baton, ready to strike.
Suddenly, just behind me Lisa yelled, “Robert Pickens, I know you.”
The policeman stopped and stared. All of us found ourselves back at the car unhurt.
Dad unlocked the car and said, “Let’s go.”
As the car entered the freeway, Lisa said, “Well I guess we know at least one of those cops is a racist. Pickens used to hang out with my father’s group of rednecks.”
No one else said anything. I guess we were little bit shocked.
***
We didn’t go back to Ferguson after that mess but we couldn’t stop watching it on the news. It’s the main thing we talked about.
I feel much closer Lisa now. It’s like we are a real brother and sister.
I’m hanging out less with Sarah, it’s going to be strange without her in middle school. She’s looking forward to being in high school. But we sat together just the other day to talk about what happened and how we felt about that day in Ferguson.
She said, “With all that happened in Ferguson, I think pride day is more important than ever. I think every middle school should do it.”
I said, “Yeah I think so too. But I’ve learned an important lesson. There’s no such thing as good people and bad people. I guess everything is not all black and white. There are lots of shades of gray.”
Sarah looked at me with a big smile on her face. “You know Roger, you have potential.
***
It took all the way until November 24th for the Grand Jury to make up their minds what to do about this whole mess. To sum it all up the said that after Officer Wilson stopped Michael Brown for robbery, Michael attacked the officer in his patrol car. He shot ten times in self defiance the last bullet finally killed Mr. Brown. There would be no trial.
I listened closely to the whole grand jury report and really I don’t know what to believe. It seems like Michael did a whole bunch of things wrong, But-- ten shots at close range, really? Even my Dad who has a lot of respect for the police had a hard time with that.
Anyways after the report people went nuts in Ferguson. There were riots and buildings burned. I’m not going to go near the place for a while. It’s all too bad. I guess it’s like that rock and roll song I’ve heard my parents listen to: The ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues.
Nathaniel Robert Winters
The summer of 2014 was the strangest summer of my life. It didn’t start out that way. I was having a normal summer, played Babe Ruth league baseball, went on bike rides and in July my family went camping with the Fishers. You know normal stuff. Even my new sister, Lisa, seemed to be doing okay.
After my interesting and weird year in the seventh grade, it seemed nice to just do regular kid stuff. Then, the Ferguson thing happened. Boy oh boy, that changed everything. You might have heard about it in the on the TV news or by reading a newspaper. But if you’re like most of my friends you don’t pay that much attention to the news unless something happens in your town. So, like I said this was a very strange summer.
On the night of August 9, a man named Michael Brown was killed by a policeman, Darren Wilson in Ferguson, Missouri. Michael was 18 years old. Ferguson is just outside of St. Louis and isn’t very far from Middletown. That’s where I live.
Another sad part of this story was that Michael was black and did not have a weapon. Mr. Wilson, the policeman who shot him was white. We feel like this whole area is part of our hometown.
Now, I learned last year that you don’t want to come to any fast judgments about things. I wrote my story last year about how the Middletown police really helped me. I also learned last year that the police can make big mistakes.
A bunch of us spent the day after the shooting watching the news on TV. All the stations had it on for hours and hours.
My family talked about Ferguson all through dinner.
My dad said, “There’s something fishy about the police officer’s story.” Mom made salmon for dinner so we all looked down at the fish on our plates and laughed. I think the laugh made us feel better.
I said, “They have been saying that the cop felt threatened and he fired his gun because he had to but that doesn’t seem right because Michael Brown didn’t have a gun or even a knife.”
"It could be that the officer was just paranoid after all the trauma he has seen on the police force.” Mom said.
“What does paranoid mean?" I asked.
“It means that he was in the state of being scared all the time. Like soldiers with battle fatigue or PTSD," Mom said.
Lisa said with a bit of anger, “maybe he was just a racist SOB like my father.”
Dad said in a very calm voice, “it’s obvious that the police officer made a huge mistake but until all the facts are in let’s give him the benefit of doubt."
My brother Joey, who is also called Big Bird, said, “A lot of our friends are upset about this. We don’t think what’s going on in Ferguson's fair. Some of the kids are planning to go over and picket for justice."
“Is Sarah one of the friends you’re talking about?” Mom asked.
Big Bird and I exchanged a look, I nodded. “You know Sarah. If she thinks something is not fair, she wants to take action.”
Dad asked, “Are you telling me that you all want to go?”
I said, “Sarah thinks we have to go. I agree, especially after we did our Pride Day at school last year.”
“What do you think Lisa?” Mom asked.
“I think I’m learnin’ from you all, if you ain’t helping people, you’re part of the problem.”
Dad smiled and winked at Lisa. “I can see how important this all is to you. The organizers of the rally tomorrow are committed to nonviolence. I would let you go but I am worried that things might get out of control."
"Ah dad!" Joey whined.”
Dad held up his hand. “Hey, I didn’t say you guys couldn’t go. As a matter of fact I’m going with you.”
***
I can tell you, I didn’t sleep much that night. I wasn’t dumb, I knew there were some bad guys that lived in Ferguson. You know, gangbanger types that you hear about in rap music and it made me a little nervous. But I knew some nice kids from Ferguson, my baseball team played ball there in July. Their team had white and black guys. They won the game and we all went out for pizza afterwards. It was a fun day. So I found out last night that Ferguson is mostly black but has a lot of white people too.
Some people on the TV said that Michael Brown was one of the bad guys. I didn’t know if that was true or not. In this case it shouldn’t matter. Even if he did bad things, the police should not be shooting at unarmed people.
I woke up real early. So I showered, got dressed and went to the front porch just as the sun was coming up. The cool air got warm real fast and I was already starting to sweat, just another hot and sweaty Missouri day without a cloud in sight.
I heard the screen door open and Lisa sat down next to me. “You okay?" I asked.
Lisa came to live with us after her father and brother were arrested. Her mother took off somewhere and she was left alone. To make a long story short, my parents stepped in and adopted her.
She looked at me with funny smile, shrugged her shoulders then started to say something and stopped. We were both still a little shy with each other. She was just a year younger than me and will be going into seventh grade. She went from being someone I kinda knew at school to being my sister overnight. It was a bit of a shock for both of us.
I could see her thinking. “What?” I said and waited.
“Ya know, my Uncle Carl lived in Ferguson when I was little. When the ni. . . blacks moved in, he moved out. My daddy and him just went on and on and on about it like it was the end of the world. Then Uncle Carl sold the gas station and moved to Mississippi where he said those people still know their place.” Two tears slowly streamed down her face. “I don’t want to be like them, it all sounds so evil, donn’ it.”
“Wow Lisa you are so brave. You know you don’t have to come with us."
She smiled. “Roger, don’t you see I really have to."
“Well Lisa, I’m proud of you.”
The crickets started humming in the background. It’s funny cause even when they get loud you mostly don’t notice them but that morning I did. A mosquito started buzzing. I felt it on my neck and slapped leaving a small bloody spot on my hand. “We’d better go in." I said to Lisa.
***
Sarah Fisher joined our group as we piled in the SUV. Our families have always been best friends. Sarah has a younger black brother, adopted after the Haitian earthquake.
Our car zoomed past the few freeway ramps between Middletown and Ferguson in no time at all. The picketing yesterday had been peaceful but by night things turned bad with rocks being pitched at the police and some people got out of control. We could still smell some teargas that the police used break it all up.
We signed up at the NCAA desk. A black man who wore a white shirt and a tie said to a group of about 20 of us, “welcome friends. My name is Tony Larkins and I will be your group leader. Stay with me at all times unless you hear the word ‘Disperse.’ Now please raise your right hand and repeat these words. I promise to be nonviolent during this protest.”
We all repeated his words.
“Thank you," he said, “We are going to march up and down the street for the next two hours. You may take a button or sign from the table. Does everybody understand?"
“Yes." Everyone shouted.
Just about eleven in the morning, all the groups came together and we started marching. I guess there are about 1000 people black-and-white. I started to get so nervous I could barely walk. Then I saw in front of our group, a bunch of troublemakers on one side were throwing rocks and cussing at the line of police wearing helmets on the other side. I went from being nervous to being a little scared.
The leaders of our march called out with bullhorns: “Stay together follow your leaders.” Somehow they marched us right between the police and the troublemakers. There we stopped and I wondered what would happen next. Both sides it seemed, pretended like we were not there. Bottles and stones flew above us towards the police line and the police came at us with batons. Then teargas exploded. Even though wasn’t right near me my eyes watered and I started coughing. It was awful. I started running evening before I heard from the bullhorns, “Disperse!”
Dad yelled, “Run follow me. Meet at the car.”
People took off in all directions with police chasing them One cop chased my dad who tripped and fell. The policeman was on top of him with his baton, ready to strike.
Suddenly, just behind me Lisa yelled, “Robert Pickens, I know you.”
The policeman stopped and stared. All of us found ourselves back at the car unhurt.
Dad unlocked the car and said, “Let’s go.”
As the car entered the freeway, Lisa said, “Well I guess we know at least one of those cops is a racist. Pickens used to hang out with my father’s group of rednecks.”
No one else said anything. I guess we were little bit shocked.
***
We didn’t go back to Ferguson after that mess but we couldn’t stop watching it on the news. It’s the main thing we talked about.
I feel much closer Lisa now. It’s like we are a real brother and sister.
I’m hanging out less with Sarah, it’s going to be strange without her in middle school. She’s looking forward to being in high school. But we sat together just the other day to talk about what happened and how we felt about that day in Ferguson.
She said, “With all that happened in Ferguson, I think pride day is more important than ever. I think every middle school should do it.”
I said, “Yeah I think so too. But I’ve learned an important lesson. There’s no such thing as good people and bad people. I guess everything is not all black and white. There are lots of shades of gray.”
Sarah looked at me with a big smile on her face. “You know Roger, you have potential.
***
It took all the way until November 24th for the Grand Jury to make up their minds what to do about this whole mess. To sum it all up the said that after Officer Wilson stopped Michael Brown for robbery, Michael attacked the officer in his patrol car. He shot ten times in self defiance the last bullet finally killed Mr. Brown. There would be no trial.
I listened closely to the whole grand jury report and really I don’t know what to believe. It seems like Michael did a whole bunch of things wrong, But-- ten shots at close range, really? Even my Dad who has a lot of respect for the police had a hard time with that.
Anyways after the report people went nuts in Ferguson. There were riots and buildings burned. I’m not going to go near the place for a while. It’s all too bad. I guess it’s like that rock and roll song I’ve heard my parents listen to: The ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues.
Past the Future
Nathaniel Robert Winters, author of "Finding Shelter from the Cold,” "The Adventures of the Omaha Kid," and "Roger Raintree's Seventh Grade Blues," is giving away copies of his new Science Fiction book, "Past the Future.” American astronaut Dave O'Brien blasts off into space in 2052 bound for Titan, Saturn's moon. En route, a fuel leak puts his life in jeopardy. The only option? A never-tried emergency procedure. "Dave I am going to implement Van Winkle," the computer voices,"10-9-8-7...."
Sleeping gas and dry ice fill the capsule. In an induced coma, Dave O’Brien drifts in space. He wakes in 2125, to an ad for factory-made babies. The big-headed seven-fingered doctor tells him, “We have the technology to save you. Now we need you to save us.” Dave's strange adventure is just getting started.
Sleeping gas and dry ice fill the capsule. In an induced coma, Dave O’Brien drifts in space. He wakes in 2125, to an ad for factory-made babies. The big-headed seven-fingered doctor tells him, “We have the technology to save you. Now we need you to save us.” Dave's strange adventure is just getting started.
October 3, 2014
Past the Future = out soon
Look for this new exciting Sci=fy book soon. I will be announcing a free give away. The year 2125-babies are produced in faciortes. Can our hero save humanity? Only time will tell.
May 6, 2014
Roger Raintree's Seventh Grade Blues
Yes folks I've been busy. Just months after The Penngrove Ponderosa, I'm finishing a new book: Roger Raintree's Seventh Grade Blues, a young adult novel.
I will shortly post a preview.
I will shortly post a preview.
January 7, 2014
Praise for Adventures of the Omaha Kid
The Bohemian Magazine (Marin, Sonoma and Napa Counties) named "The Adventures of the Omaha Kid" as a "Lit Pick" in their fall writing contest.
Not Quite Kosher
My new book "Not Quite Kosher" is published.
It is not quite a memoir but a unique blend of
non-fictional prose, poetry and even some fiction that parallels reality.
My life has has had its share of Trag ...more
It is not quite a memoir but a unique blend of
non-fictional prose, poetry and even some fiction that parallels reality.
My life has has had its share of Trag ...more
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