BE THE FIRST TO KNOW

SEARCH

Loading...

Monday

"HONOR THE FLAG!"


Dad taught me well!
  As a teen, I gained possession of a 48 star American flag that was as big as a wall in my bedroom. I proudly put it up, saluted it and said the pledge every day for my dads sake. It stayed there until.....

   My father, Master Chief Charles Abraham Blocker was a 30 year Navy man and lay minister. He finished his career as the highest ranking enlisted man. At age 17 he lied about his age in order to join his older brother Uncle Jimmy in 1942 and made the Navy his career.
   I was always fascinated and proud of his chest of medals including the Navy Cross.  After those 30 years of traveling the Seven Seas, WWII, Korea, and many other assignments he came home straight from Vietnam. I was 15 and spent the entire day in the front yard in order to be the first to welcome him home.
  When he saw the flag covering my wall, he immediately stopped in his tracks. Without harsh words but rather with solemnity, he took it down with care. He carried this 12 foot flag reverently to the living room where we respectfully folded it. He then had mom find a clear wrapping for it and placed it on my dresser.
  Looking back, I am sure that the 48 star flag meant much more to him than I will ever know. He had defended and saluted that flag during his prime.
  I guess the fact that it was an out dated flag made me feel it was OK to make it a wall dressing. I was proud to own it and to look at it.
  The lesson stuck with me. 

This was the man who plucked me from a pitiful Japanese orphanage at age 5. He taught me the pledge, the Preamble, and sang patriotic songs with me as we polished his leather and brass from the beginning. His frog like bass was music to my ears. He taught me American pride and I was singing the anthem before I was speaking decent English!
  He praised me when as a Cub Scout, I helped with the morning flag raising in elementary school. When we went to Jacksonville Naval Air Base for groceries or medical, mom would drop me off at his office just across the road from the runway where the Blue Angels performed touch and goes. I was raised to honor the flag and what it stands for.
  I have always honored what the flag represents and will stand up for it ferociously.
  God Bless American and it's symbol of freedom, unity, and bravery.

THE GUIDELINES WE ALL SHOULD KNOW AND SHARE WITH OUR CHILDREN, OUR GRANDCHILDREN, OUR UNKNOWING FRIENDS:
 Thanks to Larry Faulkner for sending me this.
 Here is the code for the United States Flag.


Friday

Sgt. James Stratton, 94 years well lived!

A Cowboy for Life
by J.B. Blocker
James Carter Stratton was born May 22, 1920 to J.C. and Hattie Stratton in Clovis, New Mexico. He grew up near Tucumcari where his family raised cattle and grew wheat. 
After serving in WWII, he met Miss Lila Miller at an Army dance in Lusk, Wyoming. They began their lives together on Oct. 20, 1945 in Lance Creek where they raised cattle for 60 years.
He is survived by his wife Lila of 68 years, son Ted of Lafayette, Ga., daughter Nona of McKinney, grandsons Dale, Sam, and Logan, granddaughters Sarah, Regina, Jennifer, Amy, Cara and 10 great grandchildren.
James Stratton is my friend. The 94 year old cowboy lived a couple of blocks from me in McKinney. I first met him at a Veterans Day celebration where he came dressed in his full WWII uniform. He was a devoted American Patriot who was still holding hands with his Lila in his last days. He was a historian of the era of cowboys and the military. His legacy is carried on by his devoted children and all who saw the sparkle in his eyes that drew you in and captured your heart.
Over the past 6 years, I tried to drop by as often as possible for an afternoon taste of Glenlivet and to hear cowboying stories going back to the 1930's. 
  
  Since James has been an avid historian and collector of Cavalry memorabilia most of his life, his mind and his house are historical museums just waiting for me to tour.
  It has been an awesome honor and responsibility for me to be one of the last personal friends and confidants of a man who has traveled the world and made so many friends all along the way.          I have many of his stories bouncing around now like friendly ghost. God blessed us all with men like James Stratton.




Somewhere outside Clovis, New Mexico 1936. McGregor Cattle Company chuck wagon ready to feed.  “We would pick out the fattest calves and butcher them next to the supply wagon. Cowboys would ride in, cut off a favorite cut, and eat all the beef and beans you could hold.” Photo by James Stratton.