The Eleventh Hour

By: Tricia , 6:49 PM GMT on November 11, 2009

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The Eleventh Hour

While most know that Veterans Day honors those who have served in the military, the meaning behind its exact date (November 11) may not be so familiar. Here's the backstory:

Back in 1918, in the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, a stop to hostilities was declared, ending World War I. An armistice to cease the fighting on the Western Front was signed by the Allied powers and Germany.

President Woodrow Wilson immediately proclaimed the day "Armistice Day," kicking off the annual commemoration on November 11. But over the years, with veterans returning from World War II and the Korean War, Armistice Day became Veterans Day — a day reserved to honor veterans returning from all wars. But 11/11 still represented the end of the Great War in the public's mind, and the date stuck.
In 1921, unidentified dead from the war were buried in Arlington National Cemetery in Washington, D.C., Westminster Abbey in London, and the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The tradition to honor those killed in the war but never identified continues every year in the U.S. The ceremony is held at 11 a.m. at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery.

My two cents - I thought it was interesting that this occurred in 1918, which is seven years after 1911. (See what a wonderful mathematician I am?) No, really, this is cool, I promise. . .Can you just imagine what this day will be like on November 11, 2011? 11/11/11. Wow!

Happy Veteran's Day!

Yes, it is Veteran's Day 2009, and with each passing year it seems we can never thank our soldiers near enough! Their service and dedication is second to none, and I for one, believe they need a break more than anyone. I would like to see our world return to a more peaceful society when our soldiers could blend in the background. We knew they were there and they made us feel safe, but they didn't have to be front and center where they are today.

I think almost every single one of us has a soldier or two close to our hearts and defending our freedom on a daily basis. I know I have someone that I care about there. And I hope I have made sure he knows how much I appreciate what he has done. I'm pretty sure I don't thank him near enough. How can you? I lost count as to how many of our WU family has soldiers there. The one most on my mind is, of course, Nick. I know his mom thanks him for us. I just hope he can really grasp the depth and reality of our thanks! THANK YOU NICK and thank you to every soldier out there! WE SALUTE YOU!

Tell a soldier today how much you care! It doesn't matter if you know them or not, but I promise you will put a smile on their face!


I came across this on Facebook this morning and wanted to share:

The SOLDIER, not the preacher, gave us freedom of religion;

The SOLDIER, not the poet, gave us freedom of speech;

The SOLDIER, not the reporter, gave us freedom of the press;

The SOLDIER, not the community organizer, gave us freedom to assemble;

The SOLDIER, not the politician, the freedom to vote.

It is the SOLDIER who salutes the flag, serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.



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11. Barefootontherocks
2:33 PM GMT on April 19, 2014
Wow. Tears. Thanks.

(Hi Tricia. Happy Easter)
Member Since: April 29, 2006 Posts: 151 Comments: 18377
10. GlennPaw
10:05 AM GMT on April 18, 2014
They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie as I looked
at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and
the people really friendly.
I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I
went in the small college town, people were welcoming and
open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.
But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in
to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give
me someone to talk to. I had just seen Reggie's advertise-
ment on the local news. The shelter said they had received
numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had
come down to see him just didn't look like "Lab people"
whatever that meant. They must have thought I did.
At first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me
Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of
toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his
dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.
Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We
struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told
me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the
fact that I was trying to adjust too. Maybe we were too much
alike.
For some reason, his stuff except for the tennis balls - he
wouldn't go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got
tossed in with my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn't
really think he'd need all his old stuff, that I'd get him
new things once he settled in. But it became pretty clear
that he wasn't going to.
I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones
like "sit' and "stay" and "come" and "heel" and he'd follow
them - when he felt like it. He never really seemed to
listen when I called his name - sure he's look in my
direction, after the fourth or fifth time I said it and just go back to doing whatever. When I'd ask again, you could
almost see him sigh and grudgingly obey.
This just wasn't going to work. He chewed a couple shoes
and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern with him
and he resented it. The friction got so bad that I couldn't
wait for the two weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in
full-search mode for my cell phone amid all my unpacked
stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for
the guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that
the "dog probably hid it on me".
Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter
number, I also found his pad and other toys from the
shelter. I tossed the pad in Reggie's direction and he sniffed it and wagged, some of the most enthusiasm I'd seen
since bringing him home. But then I called, "Hey, Reggie, you like that? Come here and I'll give you a treat."
Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction - maybe glared
is more accurate- and gave a discontented sigh and flopped
down with his back to me.
Well, that's not going to do it either, I thought, and I
punched the shelter phone number. But I hung up when I saw
the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that
too. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud," let's see if your
previous owner has any advice."

To: Whoever Gets My Dog
Well I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a
letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's
new owner.
If you're reading this, it means I just got back from my
last car ride with my Lab after dropping him off at the
shelter. He knew something was different. I have packed up
his pad and toys before and set them by the back door
before a trip, but this time it's like he knew something was
wrong. And something is wrong.. which is why I have to try
to make if right.
Let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help
you bond with him and he with you.
First, he loves tennis balls, the more the merrier. Some-times I think he's part squirrel, the way he hordes them.
He usually has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third
in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you
throw, he'll bound after it, so be careful- really. Don't
do it by any roads. I made that mistake once and it almost
cost him dearly.
Next, commands. Maybe the shelter already told you, but
I'll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones- "sit," stay," "come," "heel." He knows hand signals: "back"
to turn around and go back when you put your hand straight
up; and "over" if you put your hand out right or left.
"Shake" for shaking water off, and "paw" for a high-five.
He does "down" when he feels like lying down - I bet you
could work on that with him some more. He knows "ball" and
"food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business.
I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his
ears like little pieces of hot dog.
Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the
morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular store-
bought stuff; the shelter has his brand.
He's up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and
update his info with yours; they will send you reminders
for when he's due. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet.
Good luck getting him in the car - I don't know he knows
when it's time to see the vet, but he knows.
Finally, give him some time. I've never been married, so
it's only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He's gone
everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car
rides if you can. He sits well in the back seat and he
doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people
and me especially. Which means this transition is going to
be hard, with him going to live with someone new.
And that's why I need to share one more bit of information
with you.
His name's not Reggie.
I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off
at the shelter, I told them his name was Reggie. He's a
smart dog, he'll get used to it and respond to it, of that
I have no doubt, but I just couldn't bear to give them his
real name. For me to do that, it sounded so final, that
handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting
that I would never see him again. And if I end up coming
back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it means
everything's fine. But if someone else is reading it, well
it means that his his new owner should know his real name.
It'll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you'll even
notice a change in his demeanor if he's been giving you
problems.
His real name is Tank.
Because that is what I drive.
Again if you're reading this and you're from this area,
maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter
they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until
they received word from my company commander. See, my
parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could've
left Tank with, and it was my only real request of the Army
upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call
to the shelter in the "event" to tell them that Tank
could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my colonel is a dog
guy too. and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said
he'd do it personally. If you are reading this, then he
made good on his word.
Well, this letter is getting too downright depressing, even
though I'm just writing it for my dog. I couldn't imagine
if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family. But,
still, Tank has been my family for the last six years,
almost as long as the Army has been my family.
And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your
family and that he will adjust and come to love the same
way he loved me.
That unconditional love from a dog is what I took with me
to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless, to
protect innocent people from those who would do terrible
things... and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad
to have done so. He was my example of service and love.
I hope I honored him by my service to my country and
comrades.
Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give and
and an extra kiss goodnight -every night - from me.
Thank You
Paul Mallory

_________________________________________________ __________

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope.
Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew
him, even new people like me.
Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously
earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three
buddies.
I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my
knees, staring at he dog.
"Hey, Tank," I said quietly.
The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.
"C'mere boy."
He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the
hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't heard in months.
"Tank," I whispered.
His tail swished.
I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time,
his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed
as a wave of contentment seemed to flood him.
I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, and buried my face
in his scruff and hugged him.
It's me now, Tank, just you and me.
Your old pal gave you to me. Tank reached up and licked my
cheek.
"So, whatdaya say we play some ball? His ears perked again.
Tank tore away and disappeared in the next room.

When he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

Member Since: January 7, 2011 Posts: 0 Comments: 8
9. sugarsand
2:01 PM GMT on December 03, 2009
Trish,

Winter storm watch for ya'll. I remember a huge snowstorm there when I was little.( maybe it was just a little snow, but seemed big). Don't see snow much in So LA. do ya?
We'll just get rain here.
Member Since: September 13, 2008 Posts: 9 Comments: 2953
8. Raysfan70
11:25 AM GMT on November 26, 2009
HaPpY ThAnKsGiViNg {{Tricia and Family}}!



Have A Great Day!:-)
Member Since: July 28, 2005 Posts: 138 Comments: 57354
7. seflagamma
10:01 PM GMT on November 25, 2009
{{{Tricia}}}

Wishing you and your loved ones a Happy Thanksgiving Day tomorrow!


Rylee at her 4K Thanksgiving Program this morning.




"This is what it is all about!"


Member Since: August 29, 2005 Posts: 297 Comments: 40882
6. Tricia
4:30 AM GMT on November 12, 2009
Hey Gams, you're so right. Too many people take way too many things for granted these days!

Wanda, me too! That's why I added it. I guess I never took the time to learn the reason behind it. Very interesting!

Hey Rays! Love ya too girl!

SS, so sorry for all the gray, but glad Ida didn't do much damage. Have had plenty of sunshine here.

Emmy, 2nd lesson for the day! (Maybe I'm not such a good mathematician) Miss you too! How's the deck?
Member Since: October 29, 2004 Posts: 21 Comments: 382
5. EmmyRose
11:49 PM GMT on November 11, 2009
HEY TRICIA - good to see you
great blog

today was kinda like 11-11-11
when you add up 2009 - 11

so its a mini lesson in life.....

Miss you!
Member Since: July 15, 2005 Posts: 347 Comments: 76405
4. sugarsand
11:13 PM GMT on November 11, 2009
Trish,

Great post. Our Veterans are our heroes.
How's Lafayette?
Hoping to see the sun here tomorrow. 3 days of gray, not good.
Member Since: September 13, 2008 Posts: 9 Comments: 2953
3. Raysfan70
10:25 PM GMT on November 11, 2009
{{Tricia}}!

Thanks for the lesson.

Hope more people read it.

Love Ya
Member Since: July 28, 2005 Posts: 138 Comments: 57354
2. oneshotww
8:08 PM GMT on November 11, 2009
Great blog - I just learned about the 11th recently.
Member Since: October 12, 2003 Posts: 322 Comments: 1801
1. seflagamma
6:51 PM GMT on November 11, 2009

Veterans Day
Grab a new Myspace Layout



Hi Trish,

Love your header and we all need to be reminded about our freedoms we all seem to take for granted these days.

Thank you and have a great day.

Member Since: August 29, 2005 Posts: 297 Comments: 40882

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