In the past few days, three fellow bloggers,
The Bag Lady, Miriam Hurdle and Leigha
Robbins have invited me to participate in
the 7 Days 7 Photos Black and White Photo
The basic requirements are to post 7
black and white photos in 7 days.
They are to be photos of your life.
There are to be no people.
There is no explanation.
I have put a slight twist on the challenge.
I am posting 7 photos in one day.
Lyrics by Patricia J. Griffin & Robert Plant
Performed by Neil Young
Tin soldiers and Nixon coming
We’re finally on our own
This summer I hear the drumming
Four dead in Ohio
Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are cutting us down
Should have been done long ago
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?
Tension was palpable on the campus of the
University of Missouri in the spring of 1970.
With Nixon’s decision on April 30th to invade
Cambodia, protests against the Vietnam War
The Kent State Massacre on May 4, 1970, in
which unarmed college students were fired
upon by the Ohio National Guard, killed four
students and wounded nine others.
Outrage reached a feverish pitch, in turn
sparking a nationwide student strike.
In an unprecedented move, the University of
Missouri cancelled final exams, sending
students home early and putting a lid on the
situation before heretofore peaceful demon-
strations could turn violent.
Graduation ceremonies, scheduled to be held in
the football stadium, were relocated due to rain.
Rather than sit in an auditorium and view the
ceremonies via closed-circuit TV, which seemed
anticlimactic, I returned my unused cap and gown
to the book store and headed on down the road
to begin the next chapter of my life.
On Monday, May 1, 2017, a total of 650 Vietnam
veterans from Nebraska boarded four jets as part
of an Honor Flight to Washington DC to tour the
nation’s war memorials and monuments.
Upon their return to the Lincoln airport that same
evening, they were greeted by thousands of waving
flags and wall to wall cheers.
This is in stark contrast to forty plus years ago, when
the majority of returning Vietnam veterans received
no welcome at all or jeers.
It’s about time.
Being the youngest of three children
had its perks and pitfalls.
I never had to be the first to do anything—
to walk, to talk, to ride a bike, to start
school, to succeed, to fail—so on and so forth.
It was comforting and secure to trail behind
two older siblings who knew the ropes,
even when they chose to hang me out to dry,
rather than share their wisdom.
It was nice to bask in the glow of their
accomplishments, although on occasion
I had to live down the reputation they had
already established, particularly in school.
My sister was a discriminating learner.
If she liked the teacher and/or the subject,
she put her best foot forward.
With his quirky sense of humor and smarts,
my brother cruised through academia
without breaking a serious sweat.
I was the classic overachiever who piled on
the courses and was determined to get an “A”
even if I disliked the subject and/or the teacher.
In other words…’Miss Goody Two Shoes’.
More than once I walked into a classroom
where the teacher’s first words were, “Are you
so and so’s sibling?”
Or worse yet, “Not another (insert last name)
in my class!”
While the move out-of-state after my
sophomore year in high school seemed
an injustice at the time, in reality it was
a blessing in disguise.
The symbiotic sibling interplay was disrupted.
For the first time, I had a perfectly clean slate.
Inspired by Daily Prompt – Symbiosis