Twas the night before Thankssgiving......and all through the house....

Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house
Foods were being stirred by women wearing a blouse
The guys fight for their favorite chair
Get close for their favorite football cheer
Although all Americans-we are not the same
Boring it would be if we all had the same name
We often forget to give the proper thanks
Eat and drink too much and turn to a crank
Shock the Spouse and help cook and wash
Then listen to a little Bach. Don't be a Clod
Reflect on all that God has given us
To help us help others.

The Musical "NEWSIES" is perfectly performed in Nephi, Utah.

I am not always a fan of musicals, but me, my sister and son went to a local one at Juab High School last night, and we were all entertained by a great production involving a perfectly choreographed 35 plus high school kids singing, jumping, fist a cuffs and tap dancing in unison. When I thought back at the time my brother and I was in Juab's school plays of South Pacific and Oklahoma during the 1960's, I thought how these young kids and their Directors have came a long way. I am not an expert in such things, but have been to Stratford Upon Avon, England to watch King Lear; Man of La Mancha at several theaters; Phantom of the Opera in various places including Salt Lake and San Francisco; Lincoln Center; Hale productions and to Paris, France. Although I only have room temperature IQ these days, it is my opinion-these kids have the potential for Broadway, and at a cost of 20 quarters, Juab Auditorium is not far away from wherever you may be and three more productions remain. In Ruralville, Utah, you will find that kids; their families and Juab County folks love to meet with the actors after the show even if you don't know them. Don't miss a chance to see this, but put on your long johns, as this is Utah and Frosty will greet you on exit.

Nadine Blackett was laid to rest yesterday and a happy lady she is.

It is awkward to write that Nadine had a "good" funeral yesterday, but it was. It was done in a manner she loved. I received that impression when each family member participated, and the convincer was the klippity klop of the plug horse drawn carriage bringing her earthly remains next to her husband; her parents; grandparents & great grandparents. Several heavenly family members surround her and stand guard as sentinels while she dances with Evan and her brothers sing in that happy place beyond mortal existence. I wasn't going to write a blog, as all who knew Nadine loved her. After we got the photo of the carriage and her grandmothers funeral photo fell in front of my desk, I was impressed to write. Her brother Doug didn't like farm work, so he went to Salt Lake and found mucho monies in a successful doughnut business and I would often stop and get my "family discount". Her sister LaPriel was a special friend. Nadine decided she wanted to find a good man like her dad-Len, who knew how to work hard and loved the farm, so she married Evan. Her two other brothers-Ron and Harold remained in Nephi. Nadine was the silent leader of a local club we shall call "Juab Train Hitters Association". Nadine was a hard working; family matriarch and devoted woman. If you hear her whisper to you, she may say; Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on the ripened grain of Nortonville. I am the gentle rain on the alfalfa of the Blackett farms. When you awake in the morning dew, I am the swift wind lifting the birds in flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I am with God and all those loved ones on the other side, but ever so close as your guardian angel. If by chance you wish to remember me, do not cry, but do it with a kind deed or words to someone who needs it. If you do that, I will live forever and whisper good thoughts to you-always.

Nov. 11th has a two fold reason to pause and reflect for the Nephi Jones family.

On each Nov.11th, it is customary for me to travel to a cemetery to honor those veterans who served in one battle or another. Although only a small percent is on the front lines, all participants are logistically important, even those at home who read and send letters of support. Today is the day I chose to honor Veterans and LaVon Jones, who passed away 25 years ago today. As I go through the letters she kept, my tears fall on my desk. Not only did she give comfort to various Veterans who fought in World War One; Korea; World War Two, but to each of her three sons who were called to be in the Viet Nam War. At the time, I didn't feel the pain she did, but now I do, especially when I reflect that many Americans(including Hollywood and famous people) spit on our veterans when they came home. Perhaps that is why I later traveled and interviewed Nazi soldiers in Germany; felt the ashes of those innocent lives that were killed and burned by a world bully; lived in Viet Nam not only on a humanitarian mission, but to search for remains of a lost platoon. And one of our research teams did find the remains of Marine Harold Reid, who came up missing on Sept. 13, 1967. Many thought he got scared and went AWOL on the bridge over Thu Bon River in Quang Nam Province. I interviewed his mother who cried for 33 years. She was later informed her son was a hero, who fought to take down the enemy, and locals buried Harold when he was killed or the locals would themselves be killed. Today, in reading many of the military letters to and from Uncles, my father and my 3 Veteran brothers, I can't help but cry, so will remain home. I recently learned that a returned Iraq Veteran stormed his mothers home during the middle of the night. He was having a nightmare of the past, carrying his weapon from room to room looking for his enemy of the past. When any decent human has to take the life of others, their training kicks in, but often, their "shell shock" doesn't come out for years later. Today, I visit no graves but in my own personal way, I honor all veterans(especially the silent and unknown ones) who did their duty, and to my mother, who in her own supportive way, honored them.