Memorial Day Tribute

After only four days into his first tour of duty in Iraq, on Valentine's Day 2005, young 1LT Daniel Burch Anton, an Army Ranger Platoon Leader, witnessed the death of his closest friend, SFC Dave Salie, a legendary Army Ranger. As Dave's Commanding Officer, it became incumbent upon Dan, who was, himself, only 24 years of age, to deliver Dave's eulogy before the 17, 18, and 19-year-old kids of his command.

Operation Iraqi Freedom suddenly became a nightmarish reality, a war with heart-wrenching consequences. Baptized in Grief, all the boys of Bayonet 2-69 became men the day Dave Salie died. On that day they became "Warriors."

Four months later, in June 2005, Dan was called upon to deliver another difficult eulogy. The day before Fathers Day, he had lost another of his closest friends, 23 years old 2LT Noah Harris, a Georgia "Bulldog," a scholar, All-State Wrestler and Football Player, whose achievements and accomplishments had him on the fast track to becoming, one day, Governor of the State of Georgia - perhaps beyond.

Both eulogies are reproduced here to honor these beautiful boys this Memorial Day—two of our Sons of America who marched so bravely, so trustingly, into the "Valley of the Shadow of Death."

Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"
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Eulogy for SFC David J. Salie
by 1LT Dan Anton, 22 Feb 05


SFC David J. Salie was killed by an IED, Improvised Explosive Device, Valentine's Day, February 14, 2005, Baqubah, Iraq.

"I’d like to read to you a quote by Samuel Johnson: 'It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time.'

Anyone who has ever met Sergeant Salie could immediately tell what a great American and strong leader he was. His physical demeanor was only dwarfed by his Warrior spirit. When I first met Sergeant Salie I had no idea he was going to be my Platoon Sergeant. We were a brand new company at the time just trying to get off the ground. When the two of us were eventually paired up I only hoped that we could establish a solid, professional relationship. What I found, however, was more than just any platoon sergeant. He was a professional, a mentor, a confidante, and a friend.

The two of us would often talk in our office…or his office as he liked to point out to me. 'Platoon Leader’s don’t have offices, you’re just renting here.' he would say. It was during these talks that I realized Sergeant Salie’s heart was even bigger than he was. He spoke quite often of his wife and kids and it was very obvious what a great husband and loving father he was.

He also spoke of his experiences from prior deployments and there was no other choice but to admire him for the type of person he was. Sergeant Salie had the role of a family man and the spirit of a true patriot. He embodied what the Warrior Ethos truly means. Serving our great country is what he loved to do. If there was ever a mission where he had to stay back he would always try to find a way to come along.

It wasn’t long ago that Sergeant Salie kept asking me about being able to get out and do some combat patrols. He never liked it when he had to stay behind. On one of the patrols that only I was going on he said, 'If you can’t take me as a platoon sergeant what if I’m your RTO?' (Radio Telephone Operator)

Sergeant Salie loved being in the fight and there was no one better for the job. He was truly a soldier of God fighting the good fight.

Many things entered my mind after seeing what happened to Sergeant Salie on that fateful day, but one thought that stuck out was the thought of how I was going to fight this fight without him here by my side and how would his family get along without him? It wasn’t ‘till later that I realized I wouldn’t be fighting it without him because I know he’ll be watching over us just as he’ll be watching over his family.

I’m sure right now he’s getting tired of watching and he’s bugging God to let him come back here so he can get back in the fight which he loved so much.
God bless you Sergeant Salie and God Bless your family. We’re all going to miss you."



Eulogy for 2LT Noah Harris
By 1LT Daniel B. Anton, 25 June 05


2LT Noah Harris was killed by an RPG, Rocket Propelled Grenade, June 18, 2005, Baqubah, Iraq.

"Anyone who knew Lieutenant Harris would tell you that he had an addictive personality. He was the type of guy who could walk into a room not knowing anyone and come out being everyone’s friend. He was more than just a friendly guy, though. He was also dedicated in everything that he did. He was dedicated to his profession, the mission, his family and friends, and to his men.

I remember back to when Noah first came to 2-69. The other Lieutenants in the Company commented that it would be funny if he ended up coming to Bayonet so that he could give me some competition in the gym. They would kid with me about that constantly until I think I almost started to not like Noah before I even met him.

Eventually, Noah did end up coming to Bayonet Company and we were lucky to have him. What I found in Noah was more than just a fellow Lieutenant or a gym partner. He was a true friend, whose ideals and morals were in line with my own. We bonded instantly and became close friends. We shared many good times together. I always remember being in a good mood when he was around. He seemed to have that effect on everyone around him.

Noah came from a very supportive and loving family, and I know that had a great influence on the man he was. He was the epitome of quiet professionalism; always being modest while possessing all the tools needed of a great leader. I know he conducted his personal life in the same way he did his professional life. He was always selfless and eager to help others. He was the first person who came to me after losing SFC David J. Salie and offered to be there if I ever wanted to talk. That was just the type of person Noah was.

When I first heard that Noah had passed I was overcome with anger. I couldn’t understand why someone with so much potential and youth was taken from us. I know he would have been great at whatever he wanted to do. His drive was limitless and his dedication was unmatched. That is why he was such a great Platoon Leader who always led from the front. He earned the respect of every single man in his platoon and they were willing to follow him anywhere.

I trust that in all things God has a plan, whether we understand that plan or not. I know that Noah Harris was doing something he truly believed in. He knew the risks of this profession and yet he remained intrepid in the face of danger.

It would be selfish of me to want Noah back here with us because I know he is in a better place. His spirit is still with us though, and he will be a guardian on our shoulders. Luckily, Lieutenant Harris will now have Sergeant Salie to keep him squared away.

Thank you, Noah, for being the great man that you were, and for being my friend. You will always be in my prayers. I will miss you Lieutenant Noah Harris, My Brother in Arms."

PrayFor Our Soldiers Still Fighting This War


Also, let us never forget the 50,000 Heroes whose names are carved upon The Wall in Washington, D.C. Please follow the link below:
50,000 Names Carved In The Wall

PHANTOM EDIFICE SYNDROME by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

VIEW OF WORLD TRADE CENTER ESCALATORS AND STAIRS

John Hathaway of Clark, NJ, a member of our Army Security Agency Kagnew Station Guard Group, recently posted photos he had taken at Ground Zero, site of the 9-11 World Trade Center Disaster.

Viewing John's Ground Zero Photos has triggered a nostalgia within me that's been buried for more than 20 years. Seeing those photos, and the noticeable absence of what had been a major part of my life for so many years, has made me realize that I'm suffering from repressed "Phantom Edifice Syndrome."

I lived in Jersey City, NJ, from Christmas Eve 1982 until August 1988. From the window of my third floor apartment, I had a direct, uninterrupted view of World Trade Center One where it majestically dominated the New York City skyline. It was also my daily destination.

Each morning I would strap on a 40 pound backpack (my office in a bag), run one and one-half miles, dodging heavy morning traffic, to the Journal Square PATH train station to enter one of the commuter-jammed trains destined for the WTC subterranean grotto, seven stories below ground level.

The moment the train doors opened, like racetrack starting gates, tens of hundreds of us would stream out onto the Lower Level to race toward the steep-inclined escalators that would carry us seven stories up to the Main Concourse that appeared to be miles above us.

A few of us who had, by then, become familiar faces to one another, would opt to run up the stairs, two and three at a time, in a daily race whose sole prize was to be First to the Top of the Stairs.

The return home, at day's end, provided a much more formidable challenge. It was easier, by far, to run up seven stories of stairs than to run down them, especially when sprinting at top speed with a 40 pound backpack affecting my center of gravity and balance.

On this run, I had no challengers; I ran alone.

The World Trade Center was, for me, my personal playground, unlike any other. The excitement, exhiliration, and euphoria of that daily challenge, during that wonderful era of my life, remains with me to this day as kinesthetic memories that are indelibly etched within the essence of my being.

Hubris, We Thought You Were Our Friend?

Col. Charles F. Hurlbut II (photo), is a former U.S. Army Security Agency Provost Marshal. He and his lovely wife, Ida, reside in Virginia in active retirement. From the vantage point of his distinguished career,and high-level duty assignments, which allowed him to observe, first-hand, the genesis of the myriad problems that beset America today, Col. Hurlbut speaks to us with the authority of one who has "been there, done that." - Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"
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"My views as expressed here may not square with those of many of you, which is okay, for they may not be how many Americans see our country's situation today, but they honestly reflect my views at this time."

Chuck Hurlbut

Most people agree that America is in a terrible funk: our standing in the world is the lowest ever; the economy is tanking; governments, at all levels, seem incapable of effectively dealing with the challenges they face; the war in Iraq which most Americans do not support is costing us dearly in the lives of our young and billions of dollars of borrowed money; people, along with businesses and governments, are behaving irresponsibly by spending more money than they have; and rising energy prices conflict with our predisposition for gluttony. How can this all be? How is it that the most powerful and prosperous country ever on the face of the earth can be confronted by such a perfect storm of adverse circumstances?

Can't we easily, with our extraordinary American know-how, overcome any obstacle in our path? After all, we are the country that invented powered flight, the atomic bomb, the microchip, the Internet, the hoola hoop and the drive-in root beer stand. We won World War II and then revitalized and resurrected Europe with the Marshall Plan. After the War, we refocused our energies and talents on improving the standard of living for all Americans, and when some Americans were left behind and didn't share in the prosperity we introduced Great Society programs to economically and educationally uplift them and bring them into society's mainstream. Aren't we, after all, the chosen ones like our politicians like to remind us? Why, then, are we beset with the problems we have today?

Prior to World War II, America wasn't the supremely confident nation that she became and remained until very recently. We thought it was entirely possible that the war might be lost and our way of life unalterably changed. We were not at all confident and didn't take success for granted. We, therefore, channeled our energies in a highly focused manner and worked as one to assure success and the preservation of our American way of life. However, our greatest accomplishment, winning the war, also placed us on the path that's led us to where we are today. Our success in World War II, that came at an enormous personal and economic price with over 400,000 Americans dead and millions of others wounded, led us to believe in our own invincibility and infallibility.

Each of the past three generations, following the one we call the "Greatest Generation," has become increasingly convinced of America's moral and spiritual superiority and rectitude. To be sure, there have always been the sane and wise among us who have counseled us against our imprudent and self-destructive ways, but they've been relatively small in number and easily ignored and dismissed.

Ominous storm clouds first began to gather when we ignored the lessons of the Korean conflict. Limits to our military power became evident then, our perceived omnipotence constrained by the fact that we were not the only holders of the atomic trump card.

We continued our inclination to underestimate and under assess our adversary in the Vietnam war. We looked upon them as a nation of rice farmers and tree dwellers who would be awed by our superior power and intellect and would see the wisdom of following our guidance. Of course, we subsequently learned the error of our thinking when the sons and daughters of those who escaped from Vietnam in 1975 and settled in the U.S. went on to become the valedictorians of their high school classes.

We learned the hard way that the North Vietnamese were a far more resourceful, resilient, capable and sophisticated foe than we had any idea. Their abilities to intercept, decode and then act upon our tactical and strategic communications always exceeded our assessment of them and left us astounded when we ultimately learned of their capabilities.

There are countless other examples of our exuberant hubris, but I think the point has been made.

The American public is only partly to blame for all the problems stemming from this affliction. Our political leaders, not many of distinction, have fostered and cultivated this mentality for decades, but those presently in power are the worst offenders.

It's easy for the privileged and comfortable to see themselves and the country as an island of paradise amongst an archipelago of barren waste. Unfortunately, their lack of intellect, judgment, and common sense, are driving this country at an increasing
speed over a cliff that is coming closer and closer.

Those of us who are fond of studying Abraham Lincoln yearn for the day when another leader of his caliber will step forth and lead us in a positive direction. It had best happen soon, for there's precious little time to waste.

DO WE MEET SOMEONE BECAUSE WE ARE DESTINED TO MEET? by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

With our March 1 wedding anniversary rapidly approaching, last night I dreamt about the almost miraculous circumstances under which Anna and I first met, September 2, 1977, and how we both knew, in that instant, that we were somehow destined for one another. We have never been apart from that moment to this day. (Photo: 1977; Anna–age 25, me–age 40)

The 1987 movie "Made in Heaven" starring Timothy Hutton and Kelly McGillis is a romantic, occasionally funny, drama about two souls who consummate their marriage literally in "Heaven." Needless to say, Anna and I identify very strongly with this movie.

The Movie Plot Outline: Mike Shea, in his first life, dies as a young man performing a heroic rescue. Shortly after arriving in "Heaven" he meets a new soul, Annie Packert, who has never lived on Earth before. The drama centers around their separation soon after being wedded and the burning question is whether they will reunite on Earth before time runs out or whether they are fated to eternal soul-searching.

The synchronicity, that is, the meaningful coincidence attending this, is that this morning I came across this series of questions below by Lalitha V. Raman which coincides precisely with the questions I pondered in my night's dream.

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Do we Meet Someone Because we are Destined to Meet?
by lalitha v.raman, Feb 26, 2008

Are we constantly in search of that one person all through our life, till we meet and become instantly comfortable with him or her?

Do we meet a particular person because we are destined to meet?

Could this be because our need for that person at a particular point in time is so great that it drags us towards him or her?

Do we have God inside us, leading us safely towards or away from a particular person?

Do we call this an instinct, a guiding force or destiny?

Could this be our own decision, though unconsciously?

Or have we been made to realize that we are to meet a particular person on a particular day at a particular time and at a particular place!

What will happen if that person comes late and we had left by then?

Will there be another time and another place in which we shall meet that person in some way?

What will happen if we are unable to meet that person that time as well?

Will our opportunity towards meeting that particular person be gone forever?

Are we destined to meet the next person in the queue?

What are we supposed to do?

Does the searching for and the meeting itself create a comfort zone that determines our future relationship with him or her?

Could this be the fatality of being at the same place and at the same time that plays tricks on our minds?

What is the truth and where is the truth?

How do we recognize the particular person, who is meant to meet us from the rest of the others?

Is there some unseen hand that guides us in such a way that we bump into the right person, moving away from the wrong person?

What do we want to do with that person?

Do we want to spend our time with him or her and share our stories?

Do we want to share our life with him or her?

Do we want him or her to fulfill some of our needs and then move away from him or her?

Will that pave way for the next person in queue to identify us and get close to us?

Are we the one for whom the other person has been searching for all through his or her life?

Thinking of such things, it seems strange that we meet, we like, and we continue our friendship with some people.

Then again, we meet, we instantly dislike, or keep a safe distance away from, some other people all through our lives!

We seem to have a mechanism through which our mind operates, identifying, analyzing and concluding on a person's qualifications to be with us or not to be with us!

HELLO by Lionel Richie

I’M GOING TO THE REUNION by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

60th REUNION LONG BRANCH H.S. CLASS OF 1955 
I put off attending the Reunion because I had other things to do;
Now I’m saddened I didn’t go to see old friends I knew.
Looking at the last one’s photos of those who chose to go,
Makes me sad I wasn’t with them at the Luncheon, Banquet, and Show.
Why wasn’t I there to share memories with those of times now past;
With my dear departed classmates at the Reunion that was their last.
I put off attending the Reunion because I had other things to do;
Now I’m happy I’m going to see dear friends both old and new.
I’m not going to miss this Reunion; that’s a promise I’ve got to keep;
So I can laugh and joke with folks like me before my Final Sleep.

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NOTE: I’m in the top row, second from left.

WE ARE LIVING WITH THE "CHOICE" THAT WAS MADE by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

See: ONCE I WAS A CRUSADER

and ARISE! STAND ON YOUR FEET!

Forty-six years ago, Monday, January 22, 1973, the United States Supreme Court made its most controversial decision in Roe v. Wade by declaring that abortion, the killing of a baby in the womb, is a right sanctioned under the provisions of the Constitution.

Acceptance of, and acquiescence to, this decision was the First Step on the One-Way Road to the Beginning of the End. This "Rotten Apple in the Barrel of Moral Principles" was quickly followed by a googolplex of quasi-criminal practices that have brought us to the systemic corruption we are currently experiencing today.

The people of the United States of America are now beginning to fully realize that we have slipped, and are continuing to slip, deeper and deeper toward a Hell of unimaginable proportions that awaits us. Soon, the Great Depression of the 1930s will appear in retrospect, if there is anyone left to retrospect, as a mere mild Recession compared to what lies ahead.

We have allowed our leaders to sell us into slavery to foreigners whom history has shown to be cruel and merciless people. They have taken possession of our lands, our infrastructure, and ownership of our monetary system.

Our leaders have become as Shanda Kommanders, the Death Camp Jews, who lured and cast their own people into the Ovens of the "Final Solution" to save their own skins.

Perhaps, then again, perhaps not, there will be someone, in some future time, who will remember and speak of Monday, January 22, 1973, as the actual moment of America's death in much the way that Kurtz's final words in Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" were indirectly narrated: “The horror! The horror!”
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*Shanda- Shame

'"THAT CAN'T HAPPEN HERE, CAN IT MISS WHITNEY?" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

"The people who cast the votes don’t decide an election, the people who count the votes do." - Joseph Stalin, Communist dictator


September 1949. I was 12 years old and a Seventh Grader in morning class at Long Branch Junior High School, back when we were the United States of America.

After Morning Prayers and the Pledge of Allegiance with our right hands extended in respectful reverence toward our Flag, Marion DeLuca, the "prettiest girl in the class," was chosen by our teacher, Miss Whitney ("Ms" wasn't invented yet), to read her "favorite Psalm - "Psalm 23." I loved that Psalm. It was mostly everyone else's favorite, as well, followed closely by Psalm 100 and Psalm 101.

Next, we all stood to sing the "Star-Spangled Banner," then "God Bless America," with such an outpouring of love for, and pride in, what we knew, for certain, was the greatest country in the history of Mankind.

Once this regular morning routine was completed, we discussed "Current Events." It was mostly always about the evils of Communism.

Miss Whitney began the discussion by comparing the virtues of United Nations Diplomat, Dr. Ralph Bunche, Harvard Professor, acclaimed Academic, Scholar, and Athlete, nominated as the first person of color to receive the Nobel Peace Prize (which he did receive in 1950), to another man of color, Paul Robeson.

Although Robeson's credentials were as equally, if not more, impressive than Bunche's, e.g., All-American Football, Actor/Singer ("Old Man River"), and Phi Beta Kappa Scholar, he was labeled a (forgive the profanity) "Communist."

This instruction was directed mainly for the benefit of Laura Wilson, Willy Williams, Bobby Robinson, and Shirley Baker, the "Negroes" of the class. This was before their appellation evolved through the years from "Coloreds," "People of Color," "Blacks," and the currently acceptable designation of "African-Americans."

Jimmy Duncan, mercifully interrupted Miss Whitney's "Compare and Contrast" lesson by announcing that his mother worked at Fort Monmouth and that he overheard her talking about the elections in Russia where Josef Stalin got 100% of the vote.

Miss Whitney promptly pointed out that the people in Russia were fooled into believing that they were actually voting. They were going to the Polls, casting Ballots that just as well might have been written on toilet paper and flushed down the toilet.

How righteous and proud she was in her exclamation, "Thank God (you could say "God" in those days) that could never happen here."

Fast Forward to January 2008. Because of questionable results in our Primary and National Elections, the integrity of our election process is being seriously questioned from every corner.

Historically, Exit Polls are never wrong, yet they predicted that Gore would win Florida in 2000, that Kerry would win Ohio in 2004, and that Obama would win New Hampshire last week. So How did Hillary win? What's the variable that ties all of these anomalies together?

DIEBOLD!

One candidate has gone so far as to demand a recount and commented that "Ever since the 2000 election - and even before - the American people have been losing faith in the belief that their votes were actually counted. This recount isn't about who won 39% or 36% or even 1%. It's about establishing whether 100% of the voters had 100% of their votes counted exactly the way they cast them."

The candidate further stated, "Without an official recount, the voters of New Hampshire and the rest of the nation will never know whether there are flaws in our electoral system that need to be identified and addressed at this relatively early point in the Presidential nominating process."

"Can we please have a show of hands here?"

KARL FEY'S "DIME STORE DWELLINGS" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Approximately 14 years ago, Martha Stewart's Living Magazine did a feature story on "Dime Store Christmas Houses" and directed readers to a Web site dedicated to them, called "Papa Ted's Place" featuring:
KARL FEY'S DIME STORE DWELLINGS.

The site recounts the history of the houses and gives information on their value at auction on the Internet.

The original cardboard houses, some made in Japan, as well as America, date back to 1928. At the time, they cost less than a dollar for a whole town at the dime and department stores, like F.W. Woolworth's, as well as from various mail-order catalogs of the day, including the Charles Williams catalog out of New York, and the Sears and Roebuck catalog. Now the houses are extremely rare and are valued according to condition, but usually are found in groups for hundreds of dollars.

While a great many have attempted to reproduce the quality, craftsmanship, and appeal to the nostalgic interests of collectors of these beautiful time-frozen memories, only one creative genius has managed to captivate and enthrall the hearts of those who refuse to settle for anything less than perfection.

That gifted and talented artist is Karl Fey who, incidentally, is the nephew of Hank Fey, a member of our Army Security Agency Kagnew Station Guard Group, and cousin of 2008 Golden Globe Winner, Tina Fey, the brilliant writer, actress, director, etc., of TV's Saturday Night Live and 30 Rock.

When you visit Karl's web site and see his unparalleled work, you will understand very clearly why his two-year absence from this art form was sorely missed and why his return is being applauded so loudly.

Nostalgic Tableaus seem to be the domain of the Fey family. Karl's grandfather was Chief Electrician and creator of the internationally renowned Annual Christmas Railroad display of John Wanamaker's Department Store in Philadelphia.

Following in that tradition, Karl's Uncle Hank and father, Karl, did this Trolley Display (photo) for Rohm & Haas and have been commissioned to create an even more impressive display for their 100th Anniversay, to be celebrated in 2009.

Absolutely amazed at the level and diversity of artistry and creativity possessed by, from what I can determine, every member of the Fey family, I had to ask Hank, "From whom and where did all this originate?"

His reply was, "Where does it all come from? I trace it back to my great grandfather Charles Fey: ex-soldier in the Kaiser's army, toymaker extraordinaire, and - from what I can gather - all around Bohemian. Apparently, the Germanic toy-making tradition runs strong in our family and we just do what comes naturally. You might say we're modern-day elves."

So there you have it. Five generations of the Fey family, whose creative genius, knowledge, skills, creativity, and unexcelled pride in craftsmanship, have been handed down from father to son over the past several centuries, safeguarding a tradition of creating rare, limited art forms that will continue to grow in beauty and value with each passing year.

Karl Fey says he will try to make his creations available on a limited basis, possibly by this coming March 2008! Keep watching his web site. There will be limited numbers available on a first-come, first-served basis, and when the supply is gone that will be it until further notice.

OSAMA BIN LADEN IS DEAD ACCORDING TO BHUTTO

November 2, 2007, Benazir Bhutto was interviewed by Sir David Frost. During the interview she mentioned that Osama Bin Laden had been murdered by Omar Sheikh. She said it so casually as though everyone knew it was common knowledge. Why didn't Frost ask her the obvious follow-up questions to this statement? Am I the only idiot out here who missed the news reports of his death?

Osama Bin Laden was killed years ago [Benazir Bhutto]

OUR GREAT HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS ARE FALLING INTO PRIVATE OWNERSHIP by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

The Magna Carta
"...here is a law which is above the King and which even he must not break. This reaffirmation of a supreme law and its expression in a general charter is the great work of Magna Carta; and this alone justifies the respect in which men have held it." -Winston Churchill, 1956

Sadly, a 710 year old copy of the Declaration of Human Rights, known as the Magna Carta, the most important document in the world, "the Birth Certificate of Freedom," bearing the seal of King Edward I and dated 1297 - the version that became part of English Law - was auctioned Tuesday, December 18, for $21.3 million.

It was bought by David Rubenstein of the Carlyle Group. Yes! That Carlyle Group.

Until a few days before its sale, it shared space at the National Archives in Washington, D.C., with the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution, the two documents that drew upon its principles.

The Master Copy of the document, sealed by King John in 1215, is unable to be located, but other copies exist. However, only 2 are held outside of Britain: the Australian government has a 1297 copy, and Rubenstein's, which is also a 1297 copy.

David Rubenstein's copy is the only one in the world that is held by a private citizen.

Perhaps if the War continues long enough, Mr. Rubenstein will be able to amass enough funds to purchase the remaining documents in the National Archives, the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution, for a complete matching set.

GOD BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU SAFE, MY "DANNY BOY"

This song has many interpretations.

For me, Danny, it's about you, my beloved son, going off to war and me waiting for your return.

Because you were named after your eponymous Welsh Great-Grandfather, Daniel Burch, and chose as your Confirmation name, "David," the patron saint of Wales, I thought it only fitting that our greatest Welsh singer, Tom Jones, sing this to you. God Bless you and keep you safe, my Danny Boy.
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

But when he come, and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my grave will warm and sweeter be
For you will bend and tell me that you love me
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

Caleb's Piano Recital at Lynnhaven Mall, Virginia Beach, VA

This is my 6 year old grandson, Caleb, from whom, one day, I am certain, the world will see great accomplishments.

Caleb's Piano Recital at Lynnhaven Mall, Virginia Beach, VA



Photo: Caleb's Mom and Dad, my first born son, Edward James Anton and wife, Deborah. Ed is Minister of the Hampton Roads Church, Virginia Beach, VA and Author of "Repentance: A Cosmic Shift of Mind and Heart." Debbie is a Pediatrician whose practice is also in Virginia Beach. They have 3 sons: Zack, Chase, and Caleb; and daughter Lindsay.

"REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Oh, is the anniversary of Pearl Harbor here already? It comes and goes so quickly and without much fanfare these days. No longer politically correct, you know, to appear patriotic when immersed in a sea of hodge-podge humanity who cannot, nor will not, remember that they are Americans. We mustn't offend our former enemies who are now our current creditors. Better not fly the Flag at half-mast either. Someone might notice. "Wouldn't be prudent."

The wars our forefathers fought for the very survival of America are no longer celebrated as great victories for liberty and freedom; nor are our heroes glorified for their bravery and courage. The emphasis on World War II history is now on racist internments of Resident Aliens and the segregation of Blacks in our military.

Napoleon said, "History is a set of lies agreed upon." How true that is. Our educational system is effectively eliminating America's past. What was once deemed important, is now unimportant; the once relevant is now irrelevant. Fact has become fiction; fiction fact, myth legend, and legend, history.

Our Founding Fathers, if they happen to appear in a textbook that has not been redacted to exclude their mention, are not portrayed as the great men they were, but rather, as slave owners.

Thomas Jefferson is characterized as, not only a slave owner, but also, as the adulterous, incestuous child molester of Sally Hemmings, his slave, and wife's half-sister.

Very few stand out of respect for the National Anthem anymore; fewer still salute the Flag - more symbols of racism, I suppose. We celebrate KWAANZA and Hannukah by allowing their religious symbols on municipal property, yet will not hesitate to prosecute anything that even remotely smacks of Christianity.

I really don't know how we devolved into the divided, Balkanized America we've become, but it seems to me that the America we once knew, who "lifted her lamp beside the Golden Door" and cried out: "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free," is no longer a "Melting Pot," but, rather, is rapidly becoming a "Rotted Stew."

"MEET MY TEACHERS" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Sylvan Scolnick aka "Cherry Hill Fats"

The Sanskrit term "Upanishad" literally means "sitting down beside." It is a term that defines the relationship between a Teacher and his Student.

Soon after my Cosmic Consciousness Experience of August 1973 I was "set" upon a Path of Esoteric Learning, in the Greater Philadelphia Area Classroom of the School of Life, to be instructed by Master Teachers in Arcane Knowledge.

These teachings have never been, nor ever will be, written or recorded.

Though my Teachers are no longer among us, many results of their lessons have been accomplished by unwitting countless thousands through the instructions of their Last Disciple who is writing these words.

The names of my Teachers, in the order in which I encountered each one, received their instructions and moved on, are:

1. Larry Mullenhagen: He recited the words of the "Great Secret" to me that I had to commit to memory in one hearing.

2. W.W. Lassiter: By including in my instructions the mantra,"People respond to strength with admiration and respect; they respond to weakness with strength," he taught me to be "Strong" in all that I am.

3. Sylvan Scolnick aka "Cherry Hill Fats": Endowed with a mind of unbelievable intellectual capacity, imprisoned in a 700 lb. body, he possessed business knowledge that would "post-grad" both the Harvard School of Business and the Wharton School of Penn.

4. Carl Spaulding: He was the Flame to the Moths. He possessed a Power of Magnetic Attraction and Strength of Presence from which few could escape.

5. Lou Piazza: A genius of the highest magnitude, Lou was dyslexic, spoke in malapropisms, and his very being engendered antipathy, hostility, and false feelings of superiority in others. When one thought that he was outsmarting Lou, that was the moment that one was being outsmarted.

6. John Wright: A creative genius, wealthy beyond the wealth of all men because, metaphorically speaking, he held the Combinations to All Safes. The World was his Bank from which he could withdraw whatever cash he needed to satisfy his needs or whims.

"LAST LETTERS" by Steve Savage

Below are Last Letters of the Faceless, Nameless Numbers that were once Statistics scrawled across the Chryons (bottom banners) of our Cable TV Screens, while the Mainstream Nightly News was reporting such important news as "French transit workers back on job."

Read these letters, which follow, as though they were written to you and your family by your own son or daughter, father or mother, sister, brother, or friend, and yes, even in some cases, Grandmothers, who are serving in Harm's Way.

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Excerpts of letters from Army Capt. Joshua T. Byers, 29, of Anderson, S.C., who was killed on July 23 when a bomb detonated under his vehicle.
Thursday, June 5

Dear Mom and Dad,

A couple of days ago, my squadron commander told me that I would be taking command of Fox Troop in June, after all. . . . SWEET! I left my conversation with him walking on air! Not only will I soon be a cavalry troop commander (the most lethal combination of fire power that a captain can be in command of, in any service), BUT I will have the opportunity and the incredible responsibility of commanding in combat. I have to admit that I am really nervous and just pray that I am up to the task out here to lead 120 men in combat operations. I will give them everything I have to give — I love them already, just because they're mine. I pray, with all my heart, that I will be able to take every single one of them home safe when we finish our mission here.

Friday, June 20

It seems like I've been here for so much longer than I have. My life away from here seems so far away. In some ways, I don't think I'll ever have it back completely. I think war takes certain things from you, or maybe it gives certain things that change your perspective.

I love being in command. It's so great to lead again. I love taking care of my men and accomplishing our missions together here. I am blessed.

Thursday, July 3

In the past two nights we've been attacked each night while on patrol. No casualties for us. . . . I see more bravery in a day here than I had seen in my entire life prior to this.

I'm healthy and doing fine — although I really want to get that redeployment order and come home (as everyone does) — I don't dwell on it. We are accomplishing our mission here and I think I'll take a lot of pride in that for the rest of my life. Although the sacrifice is great, the rewards of service are so much greater.

Friday, July 18

Life here continues to be challenging, but we're all hanging in there. We got a blow to our morale a few days ago when the corps commander visited us (three-star general). He said there was no way we were going home in less than nine to 12 months. Man, that's going to suck. We're working on month No. 4 right now and it already seems like we've been here forever and a day.

I still love being a commander. I love leading troops and taking care of them. It is a huge responsibility and I feel the weight of it every day. I send the thing I love most out here — my men — into harm's way every day and every night. I just do my best to ensure they're ready, trained, equipped and properly led in every situation.

Monday, July 21

We conducted a huge operation in the desert about a week ago. We had intel that suggested that the bad guys were hiding weapons and ammo out in the desert and bringing it into the city to attack us. We swept all of the desert north of us and found lots of weapons/ ammo. . . . Two of the targets that we captured turned out to be first cousins of Saddam Hussein.

I love you both with all of my heart! I'm working very hard here — adding honor to our country and to our family name!

Love,
Josh


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Excerpt of an e-mail message to his wife, Theresa, from Army Master Sgt. Kevin N. Morehead, 33, of Little Rock, Ark., who was killed Sept. 12 during a raid on enemy forces. The message was sent July 7.


Hey Baby,

I do enjoy planning for the future. It gives me a lot of hope to be able to plan for our success. Sometimes I think that maybe I wouldn't come up with these plans if I wasn't deployed. Being here focuses my attention on home and I have time to come up with lots of avenues for us. It has been one blessing for me being here. I think if we can get the things done that I have come up with we will be able to have a prosperous life ahead of us. I don't want you to worry about how we are going to make it after I get out. . . . I want us to be able to enjoy our life and do things that we want to do.

I think after we get these bills settled and get on track this winter with the property and the house, next spring I am going to get us another boat. We had a lot of fun when we had a boat. I remember when me, you and Jesse used to go to the lake and camping. Those were really fun times. I would eventually like to get a camper or an R.V., too. . . . I know how you like to have a nice place to stay. If we got a nice camper, then it would almost be like staying in a hotel room with A.C. and a private shower and a queen size bed.

I love you very much. I can't wait to get on with our lives. I really look forward to our future together.
Kevin


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Excerpts of letters from Army Pfc. Rachel K. Bosveld, 19, of Oshkosh, Wis., who was killed Oct. 26 in a mortar attack.


Tuesday, Oct. 14

Mom,

I'm doing fine, Mom. Yes, I did get into a sort of accident, if that's what you call it. We were hit by an IED (improvised explosive device) or RPG (rocket-propelled grenade), which set our truck on fire because it struck the battery and fuel line. My neck and shoulder were pretty banged up for about two weeks. My shoulder popped (dislocated) and I jammed my neck as well. I lost my hearing in my left ear for a few weeks. My hearing in general isn't good at all anymore. I've been through my share of explosives. I'm sending pictures home to be developed of my truck (or what's left of it). I took a few of me with the truck, so you could all see that I'm O.K.

It's still pretty warm during the day, but gets very chilly at night. Could you try and find one of my hooded sweatshirts to send to me?

Right now I'm soaking my feet. My feet take a beating in these boots. My feet are all cut up and sore. . . . Feels soooooo good now, anyway. I guess I haven't been taking as good care of myself this month. We have a physical training test I'm getting ready for. This month and last we haven't gotten much time to do P.T. So I work, sleep, work, P.T., work — oh, and eat.

Well Mom, my 20-minute soak is up. Take care. I love you. Don't worry so much about me, Mom, my intuition has already saved a few lives here and my own as well.

Monday, Oct. 20

I'm doing great this week. Sure, I've dodged lots of bullets and such, gotten little to no sleep and eaten nasty food, but I am doing great.

I got to drive a tank! I got a tour, learned how to operate everything, load everything, and I got to DRIVE IT! I was tooth from ear to ear!

I'm getting a Purple Heart for the accident, along with eight other people in my platoon. . . . Someone is always getting injured here. There have been no fatalities so far in my company, though, just lots of injuries.

So, how are you? Eighteen days till my birthday! I can't wait! No one probably even knows when it is over here.

Well, bye for now, just wanted to let you know I'm O.K. and I miss you.

I love you,
Rachel


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Excerpt of a letter from Army Pvt. Robert L. Frantz, 19, of San Antonio, who was killed June 17 when he was struck by a grenade. The letter was postmarked June 15.


Dear Mom,

I got the first package, and the letter you sent me. Sorry if I haven't been writing so much. I pull 12-hour guard shifts from 7 at night till 7 in the morning, and then I go on patrols some time in between those hours, and when I am not doing that I am usually sleeping.

Someone shot at us last night. I was getting ready to go to sleep and I hear a pop, pop, and then the bullets ricocheted off the building right outside the window I was standing in front of. . . . It kinda sucks, when all you can think about is there's someone out there trying to kill you or your buddy next to you, and all you can do is hope you kill them first.

I got to stay the night in Saddam's wife's palace the first night I was in Baghdad. That thing is huge. I want to see what his main palace looks like. . . . I took some pictures, hopefully they'll come out.

We've had random gunfire within a 100-meter radius all night, every night, since I have been here. It kinda scares you the first couple nights, but you tend to get used to it.

Well, Mom, I gotta go. Tell everyone I love them and miss them very much.

Love always and forever,
Robby


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Excerpt of a letter from Army Pfc. Jesse A. Givens, 34, of Springfield, Mo. Private Givens was killed May 1 when his tank fell into the Euphrates River after the bank on which he was parked gave way. This letter was written to be delivered to his family if he died. Melissa is his wife, Dakota his 6-year-old stepson and Bean the name he used for his son, Carson, who was born May 29.


My family,

I never thought that I would be writing a letter like this. I really don't know where to start. I've been getting bad feelings, though and, well, if you are reading this. . . .

The happiest moments in my life all deal with my little family. I will always have with me the small moments we all shared. The moments when you quit taking life so serious and smiled. The sounds of a beautiful boy's laughter or the simple nudge of a baby unborn. You will never know how complete you have made me. You saved me from loneliness and taught me how to think beyond myself. You taught me how to live and to love. You opened my eyes to a world I never dreamed existed.

Dakota . . . you taught me how to care until it hurts, you taught me how to smile again. You taught me that life isn't so serious and sometimes you just have to play. You have a big, beautiful heart. Through life you need to keep it open and follow it. Never be afraid to be yourself. I will always be there in our park when you dream so we can play. I love you, and hope someday you will understand why I didn't come home. Please be proud of me.

Bean, I never got to see you but I know in my heart you are beautiful. I know you will be strong and big-hearted like your mom and brother. I will always have with me the feel of the soft nudges on your mom's belly, and the joy I felt when I found out you were on your way. I love you, Bean.

Melissa, I have never been as blessed as the day I met you. You are my angel, soulmate, wife, lover and best friend. I am sorry. I did not want to have to write this letter. There is so much more I need to say, so much more I need to share. A lifetime's worth. I married you for a million lifetimes. That's how long I will be with you. Please keep my babies safe. Please find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving you alone. . . . Teach our babies to live life to the fullest, tell yourself to do the same.

I will always be there with you, Melissa. I will always want you, need you and love you, in my heart, my mind and my soul. Do me a favor, after you tuck the children in. Give them hugs and kisses from me. Go outside and look at the stars and count them. Don't forget to smile.

Love Always,
Your husband,
Jess

STOP EMINENT DOMAIN ABUSE NOW! by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

My hometown, Long Branch, New Jersey, was America's First Seashore Resort, boasting of the world's best beaches. The crystal clear waters and view of the Ocean's Horizon was a pleroma of beauty that had to be experienced to be described. Every Beach had its own little community of quaint, picturesque cottages that granted quick, easy access to a panorama we Long Branchers considered to be a very special gift from God to all of us.

My grandfather, Julius Lafayette Granit, World Champion 10 Mile Ocean Swimmer, was Chief Lifeguard in the 1890s and I was Chief Lifeguard through the 1960s. No matter where we Long Branchers would go in this world, our hearts would always long for the image of our beautiful seaside that was so indelibly painted on the mural of our minds.

Over the years, the municipal political machinery of Long Branch was usurped by vacationing visitors who came to stay and exploit what was God-Given for their own greedy, personal gain. Through the sheer force of their voting numbers, they took over the Administration of Long Branch and quickly began to condemn homes and businesses through the use of Eminent Domain Abuse.

Many of these homes and businesses that had stood for centuries, were "in-your-face" sold to developer friends who, seemingly overnight, turned the Beachfront into some grotesque monstrosity of cheaply constructed homogenized condominium firetraps.

The eulogy, below, eloquently written by Jeff Rowe, is the true story of Anna DeFaria, the courageous Long Branch woman, who gave her life in defense of her home and her neighbors' homes. It was she who was at the forefront of the battle to stave off the greedy monsters behind the Eminent Domain Machine that continues to devour the lives and livelihoods of the victims in its Path.

Stand Strong America! Don't Let Long Branch's Story Become Your Story! STOP EMINENT DOMAIN ABUSE NOW!

Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"


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EMINENT DOMAIN FOE DIES, BUT HER SPIRIT ENDURES
by Jeff Rowes
[Jeff Rowes is an attorney with the Institute for Justice in Arlington, Va., which represents the MTOTSA homeowners in Long Branch and which represented the homeowners in Kelo.]
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In 1960, Anna and Antone DeFaria plunked down $6,400 for their American dream, a tiny seaside bungalow in historic Long Branch. Though small by today's standards, their home served the DeFarias well, faithfully sheltering them and their children from the cold winds of the Atlantic and the cold winds of life.

Anna DeFaria, who died last week 10 years after Antone passed away, never imagined in 1960 that her modest home would one day become a flashpoint in the nationwide fight against eminent domain abuse. She and her neighbors in the working-class Marine Terrace-Ocean Terrace-Seaview Avenue (MTOTSA) neighborhood have been locked in a closely watched legal battle to save their homes from Long Branch, which is trying to seize them so a private developer can build even more beachfront condos for the rich.

Those of us privileged to stand with DeFaria in this important struggle drew inspiration from her unwavering commitment to the principles of liberty. Although offered inducements not available to her neighbors, she was a rock. She understood that this case was about the sanctity of the home and the constitutional right of everyone, even people of modest means, to keep the property they worked so hard to own. There was no way she would sell because, as she put it, Long Branch was not trying to take just her house, but "my home, my life."

Eminent domain abuse was catapulted into the headlines in 2005 when a narrow majority of the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Kelo v. City of New London, Conn., that the U.S. Constitution allows the government to transfer property from one person to another for the latter's private financial benefit so long as there is some hope that jobs and tax revenue might follow.

In a now-famous dissent, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor warned that the decision in Kelo meant that the government now can seize any beloved home, any booming small business, any thriving church and even pastoral rural land whenever someone richer comes along promising to build something bigger. The justice also predicted that the burdens of eminent domain abuse would fall on those least able to defend themselves.

O'Connor was right on both counts. We at the Institute for Justice documented a dramatic proliferation of eminent domain abuse in the wake of Kelo as local governments, no longer concerned about pesky constitutional rights, binged on private property. We also just published a study showing, based on U.S. census data, that people subject to eminent domain for private economic development are much more likely to be poor and from minority communities.

As bleak as this seems, there is reason to hope. Courageous Americans like DeFaria have taken on greedy local governments and developers in strategic lawsuits across the country arguing that state constitutions provide more property rights protection than the Supreme Court is willing to recognize in the Constitution. So far, two such cases have reached their respective state supreme courts, where the Kelo theory of eminent domain for private economic development was soundly rejected.

State legislatures also responded to unprecedented public outrage over Kelo. Forty-two states have reformed their eminent domain laws to prevent what happened to DeFaria and her neighbors.

Although New Jersey, which is one of the worst eminent domain abusers in the country, did not enact any reform following Kelo, all of us took heart last spring when the state Supreme Court unanimously ruled that Paulsboro violated the state constitution by labeling harmless rural property "blighted" so it could be transferred to a big corporation. DeFaria was particularly joyous at discovering the most distinguished judges in New Jersey agreed with her that rights are for everyone, not just the rich and powerful.

DeFaria embodied the very best in all of us. Though as tiny as the proverbial David, she never shrank from Goliath. And though given much reason to be bitter, she was a woman of enduring devotion who never failed to wish God's blessings on everyone, even those in the city government out to take her cherished home.

Her personal fight may be over, but, to no one's surprise, her children have vowed to carry on. Through her family and our memory of her, she will remain with us in spirit as we continue our fight to vindicate the constitutional rights in which she so deeply believed.

"THANKSGIVING PRAYER" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

[March 1, 1980 Wedding Photo: Anna, 27, and Me, 42]

Thanks for my wonderful, carefree life
With access to cash and a beautiful wife.
No worries, health problems, or bothersome blues,
Can jump in the car and eat out where I choose.
Thanks for the Grandfather Clock, the Giant TV,
Lounging around doing nothing in anonymity.
Thanks for teaching me the tricks of the trade,
Enabling me to live this outrageous charade.
Thanks for my new teeth, spaces gone from my smile,
Fountain pen, diamond ring, watch with gold dial.
Thanks for the friendship of so many nice folks;
The joys, the laughter, camaraderie, and jokes.
Thanks for letting me live in these beautiful Hills,
As just an ordinary Joe who’s paying the bills.
Thanks for no pressure, no sleepless nights,
No guilt feelings, no senseless fights.
Thanks for making me the world’s luckiest man;
A husband, "Daddy," "Pop-pop;" my family’s biggest fan.
Most of all thanks to be in this Land of the Free,
With the right to pursue happiness and opportunity.

IN HONOR OF MY BELOVED SON'S SERVICE TO AMERICA by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Today, November 10, 2007, my son, Dan, deployed for his Second Tour of Duty in Iraq. For the next 12 to 15 months, his beautiful new bride, Amber and her family, Dan's mother, Anna, his five brothers, Eddie, Michael, Tommy, Matthew and Scott, and I, will be praying every moment that God will guide him, protect him, and keep him safe from harm.


This is the child Anna sees and carries in her heart. When he was only 4 years old, he said to his mother,"Mom, you know some day I'm going to have to leave you." Anna, faced with the future, said, "Yes, but not now."



This is NOW!
Undefeated New York/New Jersey Junior Olympic Boxing Champion, Danny "The Lion-Hearted" Anton, Army Ranger Hand-to-Hand Combatives Champion, "Achilles" to the men of the 2-69 BN, 3rd ID, Twice-Awarded Bronze Star for Bravery, US Army Ranger Captain Daniel Burch Anton.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO DONALD LEE HARDY, KNIGHT COMMANDER OF THE COURT OF HONOR" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

IN MEMORIAM Donald Lee Hardy b. November 4, 1944, d. December 28, 2010
Donald Lee Hardy, Knight Commander of the Court of Honor

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

In a special called Executive Session of The Supreme Council 33rd Degree, of the Ancient and Accepted Rite of Freemasonry, held in Washington, D.C., Donald Lee Hardy, our brother member of the Kagnew Guard Site, has been elected to the Rank & Decoration of Knight Commander of the Court of Honor.

Election to this milestone in one's Masonic career is a very significant honor. Less than one in two hundred Scottish Rite Masons are elected to receive this honor and wear the Distinctive Jewel and Red Cap of a Knight Commander of the Court of Honor.

Don's Investiture Ceremony is scheduled for Saturday Morning, October 20, 2007. This will be followed by an evening Traditional Red & White Banquet, in Don's honor.

No less a personage than P.G. "Pete" Normond, Jr. 33rd Degree, Chairman of the Advisory Conference, Valley of Houston, Ancient and Accepted Rite of Freemasonry, noted that everyone throughout all of Freemasonry is proud of Don Hardy.

I am certain that all of us who share membership with Don on the Kagnew Guard Site, also share Mr. Normond's sentiments and applaud Don's achievements and accomplishments in the World's Oldest Fraternal Order and wish him every continued success in an already very distinguished Masonic career.

"NON-VOLUNTARY EUTHANASIA" The Next Station Stop On The Death Train To Hell by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

[An ethical adviser to the British Medical Association has firmly backed non-voluntary euthanasia for patients who are too ill to ask for death. Professor Len Doyal, an emeritus professor of medical ethics and a member of the BMA's ethics committee, writes in the new Royal Society of Medicine journal Clinical Ethics that dignity in dying sometimes means that doctors should kill their patients.]

The 1973 U.S.A. legalization of Abortion was the first step on the Slippery Slope of the Solution to the Malthusian Problem of how to best implement "Herd Control."

"Death with Dignity" came next.

Now with a world population of 7.8 Billion and rising, we will soon witness the "Logan's Run" phenomenon, i.e., Non-Voluntary Euthanasia.

Pro-Life/Pro-Choice matters little now. We passed the "Point of No Return" when we first took Innocent Life under the guise of Constitutionality.

Can it get worse? You bet! Scream now, while you can, because when you see our "Final Destination," your Spirit will shatter like glass and the shards will be eternally frozen in a Horrific Fear no Mortal nor Immortal has ever experienced.