Remembrance of 9/11/2001 and The Last Homily of Father Mychal Judge Sept. 10, 2001

I know I post the Father Mychal Judge quote every year but ,again this year I am posting The Last Homily of Father Mychal Judge. I Copied it below in it's entirety. For those of you that don't know, Father Mike was the Chaplin for FDNY and was listed as Victim 0001 as his was the first body recovered after the collapse of the WTC. Please read it and remember why we do what we do, and remember that the Heroes of that day knew the possible outcome and still did what Firemen, Cops, and EMS do, they did the job. God bless, and be safe. 

The Last Homily of Father Mychal Judge 

September 10, 2001

FDNY Engine 73, Ladder 42, Bronx, NY 

Good morning, everyone.

May the grace of God the Father, peace of God the Son, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

We come to this house this morning to celebrate renewal, rejuvination, new life.  We come to thank God for the blessings over all the years - the good work that's been done here and especially the last few days.  We can never thank God enough for the reality of the lives we have.  So, standing in His presence this morning, and truly this is a chapel, let us pause for a moment, perhaps close our eyes, and thank God for some special blessings in our individual lives.

Let us pray.

Thank you Lord for life.  Thank you for love.  Thank you for goodness.  Thank you for work.  Thank you for family.  Thank you for friends.  Thank you for every gift because we know that every gift comes from you, and without you, we have and are nothing.  So, as we celebrate this day in thanksgiving to you, keep our hearts and minds open. Let us enjoy each other's company, and most of all, let us be conscious of Your presence in our lives and in a special way in the lives of all those who have gone before us.  And Father we make our prayer, as always, in Jesus' name who lives with You forever and ever.

That's the way it is.  Good days.  And bad days.  Up days.  Down days.  Sad days.  Happy days.  But never a boring day on this job.  You do what God has called you to do.  You show up.  You put one foot in front of another.  You get on the rig and you go out and you do the job - which is a mystery.  And a surprise.  You have no idea when you get on that rig.  No matter how big the call.  No matter how small.  You have no idea what God is calling you to.  But he needs you.  He needs me.  He needs all of us.  

The retirees - He needs your prayers.  He needs your stopping by occasionally to give strength and support and to tell the stories of the old days.  We need the house and to those of you that are working now, keep going.  Keep supporting each other.  Be kind to each other.  Love each other.  Work together and do what you did the other night and the weeks and the months and the years before and from this house, God's blessings go forth in this community.  It's fantastic!

What great people.  We love the job.  We all do.  What a blessing that is.  A difficult, difficult job and God calls you to it.  And then He gives you a love for it so that a difficult job will be well done.  Isn't He a wonderful God?  Isn't He good to you?  To each one of you?  And to me!  Turn to Him each day.  Put your faith and your trust and your hope and your life in His hands, and He'll take care of you and you'll have a good life.

And this house will be a great, great blessing to this neighborhood and to this city.

Amen

The Education of a Wondering Southern Boy

Joe Mancos: May 10, 2012

I have learned in the past several years that you are a student your whole life. Some of this they teach you when you decide to become an educator or trainer. They want you to learn how others learn so you can share what little bit you have learned throughout your education, life and career.  (That’s a lot of Learning)

You start at birth learning the basics of life, how to eat, talk, walk and … well, when and where you should “do your business.” After the basics come the hard part, manners and respect and right from wrong. Then we go to school to learn the more formal education that society has developed and decided we will need in our adult life, reading, writing, grammar (reading this you will know I need to improve on this one) and mathematics. High school and college throw in some history, and how the world works and how to get along with and understand each other on a global scale. (It seems like we all need to look into that one some more huh?) Then we go to work and learn our jobs and how to do them well. This is the basis in which we all have been educated, or is it?

 All of what I have written above is the truth or how I have seen the truth for the past 40 years. But there is more to the story, I have learned much more from many more people that the dedicated teachers professors and trainers throughout the years. I have been thinking a great deal lately, maybe it has been due to the fact that that I am turning 40 this year, or maybe the fact that we have lost two close family members this year. The thoughts that have been chasing each other around in my head have been about where I learned the most important things in life, from my family.

Each and every family member that I grew up near has had something to do with who I am today. (Just so you know who to blame…) I don’t want to leave anyone out and I don’t want to “slight” anyone or make it look like I love one family member more than others so this is not going to be in any particular order and the things that I list are not going to be the only things I have ever learned from any family member. What is written is just what comes to mind as I sit down to write this.

My Grandmother on my Mom’s side we called Na Na Bessie. This woman taught me that there is one God and our lives should be lived to please him. One thing you have to understand is that my whole family is “God fear’n born again, every Sunday church go’in Southern Baptist” Na Na made sure we all came to know the God she served faithfully until she died. We may not have always followed the path we should have, but she made sure we knew the way. NaNa Bessie went to be with “her Jesus” a couple of months ago and she is missed more than she would ever know. I could write pages on this woman and how she helped raise and educate whole clan and not just a small family. I find this quite impressive for a woman that had very little formal education. Her education came from the Bible, church, a life and hard work and the love of others. She was also the first other than my dad to take me fishing; I think she is one of the many family members that helped me grow to love fishing. “Fishing is a good way to teach a boy patience”

My Grandmother on my Dad’s side we called Na Na Elise. I also learned many things from her but one of the things I remember the most are the value of things. She grew up like most of the people of that era with nothing. She was raised in the mountains of West Virginia during the great depression and knew nothing in life but hard work and how to make due with what she had. She could make a fine meal in  no time out of a few things she would find in her freezer and out of a cabinet full of rows and rows of Mason jars she had “canned”. All of which came from her garden or from fruit trees in her yard. She was also a nurse in the Women’s Army Corps during the second World War and in later years when she found out I was going to be a Paramedic, she shared with me how she dealt with what she did and the things she saw during that period of her life. This has helped me more than she would ever know. I have heard family members speak of her and the life she lived and call her "a tough ol bird." (kind of a rough complement here in the South), to that I reply "and then some." 

Before both grandmothers passed I am grateful that I took the time to go to them and had each of them teach me how to cook homemade southern biscuits among other things.

My “Pa Pa” Jessie died a couple of days before my second birthday so I didn’t have time to learn much from him but my Mom tells me it is uncanny how much like him I am, not only in looks but my outlook on things and right down to some of my mannerisms and wit.  I guess the waters run deep in my family.

My “Pa Pa” Durham was my Dad’s step dad. I remember as a small boy sitting out at the Phillips 66 service station he ran in a small town here in NC and listening to the “old men” sitting around drinking Cokes out of the “little bottles” and telling stories. What I remember most about that is you can lean a lot more from listening to people who have been there and done that than by talking.

Uncle Robert and Aunt Rosa taught me what hard work really is. They owned and operated a small tobacco farm in Bladen County NC. From the time I could reach the steering wheel on the old tractor until I moved away from home, I worked every summer. Some of the money I could keep and spend, but the rest had to go to help buy school clothes for the fall. If you have ever worked in tobacco in the hot NC sun in an old “stick barn” you know exactly what I am talking about. Believe me I think about the value of a dollar every summer in the latter part of July and August when the “dog days” set in. I have also been told I get some of my wit and trend to be a bit sarcastic from these two characters. Aunt Rosa is known to speak her mind and to stand up for herself and anyone else who needed standing up for with the sweet tenacity of a bull dog.  Uncle Rob was known to not only be a big man with a big laugh but a big heart. He was also known for his skill as a fisherman and growing the biggest okra and the sweetest watermelons in our little corner of the south. Sadly we lost uncle Rob just yesterday as I write this.  I have even written in the past couple of days in a micro blog in social media that “maybe Uncle Rob and Na Na Bessie will show me the good fishing holes when I get to heaven.”

Aunt Janie and Uncle Don also taught me the value of work. One of the things Uncle Don one of my Dad’s half brothers told me that sticks with me until this day is, “If you take a man’s money, you do what he pays you to do. You don’t like the job, find another one, but as long as he is paying you, you work for him.” He had retired from the USAF and later in life I learned he was the main reason Dad’s family moved to NC after the death of his Father, my namesake. He worked almost every day of his life that I can remember. Even after he retired, he was always found doing something. Uncle Don is one of the family members that also taught me a love of the outdoors though deer hunting, guns, shooting and just a love of being outside. 

He also shared with me the joy of reading fiction. He reads mostly Louis La’Mour westerns and I have also read them time and again. 

Aunt Janie is known as one of the best cooks and bakers in the county and everyone wants her to do their wedding cake. She taught me that doing things right beats doing them fast any day.  I remember how she treated everyone’s kids like they where her own and everyone was always welcome to come and stay anytime. Believe me, I took advantage of that as often as I could.

Aunt Gayle and Uncle Steve taught me that love can endure many hardships and that love and family win when your hearts in the right place. You see they were married and for reasons that are of a private family nature (in other words none of your business lol) they divorced and several years later, picked up where they left off and married again with their grown children and whole family around them supporting them. Aunt Gayle has often been the calming voice of the whole family and seems to be everywhere for everyone. I still have to learn how she does that.

Uncle David and Uncle George where not in the little southern town where 90% of my family was when I was growing up. They both are both retired military and lived elsewhere in the country/world, but the main thing I learned from both of them is that there is much more to this world than just what you see around you. Learn to branch out and learn from others. Learn other ways of doing things, other cultures, foods and see how others do things. You learn more when you get out of your comfort zone and branch out.  They both impressed upon me the importance of an open mind and a formal education.  They are probably where I get my urges to ramble and wonder around. Those of you that really know me, know I tend to have somewhat of a Gypsy Soul and like to keep my wheels moving when I can, but I do know my way home.

My Uncle Jessie is my Mom’s only brother. He has been a Soldier, Mechanic, and Cop, Fire Chief and was one of the early members of the local volunteer Rescue Squad back home. This Squad was the first form of EMS in that area and it was also my first taste of EMS. That little town gave me my first taste of Fire, Rescue and EMS and I have spent more than the last 20 years answering the call to help others at home and abroad. (See where I am going with this? I had to learn this stuff somewhere) Uncle Jessie has been a great friend and a voice of reason when I would listen to no one else, and has been my sounding board when I had to talk about things I could tell no one else. (There are some things you can only tell people who have “been there”) I also have learned more about working on cars and old hot rod Jeeps from him than anyone else.  Johnna, Jessie’s wife, is one of those southern ladies that will help anyone with anything that is within her power. We should all learn form her.

I have not even mentioned my many cousins that I love dearly but hey I’m not writing a book here, just a collection of thoughts that no one is going to read anyway.  But what about your parents and your sister, you may ask. Just hold on I was getting to that. My sister Tami has taught me that it is OK to laugh at myself and not to take myself so seriously and for that I thank her. I could write volumes about what my parents mean to me and what they have taught me but all of us have parents and know how important they are to us. I think my parents taught me most every thing I needed to know about how to become a success in this world. I could also go on and about how my Mom taught me how to be independent and self sufficient, and how my Dad taught me a love of hunting and fishing and the outdoors and how to be a strong and God fearing man, but I think the most important thing they did was give me a good example of how to be a good parent myself. I only hope I live up to it and that they are proud of me.


I would be remiss not to mention my lovely wife and son, but what I have learned from them would fill another blog post or novel, so let's just leave this with the family of my childhood and early adult life. 

I guess this whole rambling mess has been about how proud of my true education I am. This education has made me who I am and taught me a life of service to others is one well lived because you truly do “get what you give.” None of the formal education and training or certifications I have earned in my academic life has prepared me for life like the education from my family.  I am very proud of how I was raised and where I come from.

Brotherhood in the Fire Service, Does it still exist?

Ok I know it has been quite awhile since i have updated my blog or written an article or anything for that matter but to be honest I haven't had the time or motivation to write much of anything until now. This is more than likely going to be a rambling rant so hold on.

I was thinking the other day about a few comments that had been made to me by a few great friends about the brotherhood of the fire service and if it really existed anymore. I instantly fired back that it did. Driving home from a weekend fire/rescue school recently I was thinking about the conversation. Where they right? Is the fire service loosing the sense of brotherhood that I found when I joined up over twenty years ago?

After thinking about this for a few weeks and talking to some of the people I have looked up to and trusted for years I have come to the conclusion that true Brotherhood still exist and I have witnessed it myself recently. But I still think that my friends are on to something. I think they have experienced a false sense of Brotherhood that I don't really know what it is, but I have seen it also and thank goodness I have seen the real thing and can tell the difference between the two.

I will start out by saying if you are reading this and are not in Fire, Rescue or EMS you may not "get" what I am talking about, if you have served in Law Enforcement or especially any branch of the Military you will defiantly get this. All of the above mentioned professions be it volunteer or career are known for how we all "stick together" and how we take care of each other. We have been known to help each other out in a time of need. Some of our ranks have been known to drive across the state to a LODD funeral for a bother that they didn't even know, (why?) to be there for their fellow brothers and sisters that are hurting. If you want to meet some people that embody the True Brotherhood of the fire service, you have to look no further than the guys and girls from the NCFFF. (Thanks for what you do guys)

I have been treated like family at firehouses in different parts of the country just because I am a Fireman. I know that there are things about this job that no one outside of the job would ever understand and when I need some one to talk to about it,  I have people I can, and do call. So I will contend that true brotherhood DOES still exist in today's fire and rescue service.

But....

My friends do have valid points in doubting the brotherhood. But here are some tips to help you distinguish between what passes for Brotherhood and the real thing. There are quite a few "posers" out there and you do have to look out for them. (they as well as a few others classify as mutts)

 I am probably going to make a few of you mad with some of the comments, but hey that's what real families do. They disagree and if you don't agree with what I am writhing, then oh well, I hope we can agree to disagree. A few of the things I am talking about below is aimed at some of the newer folks in our ranks and some is aimed at those of us who have been here awhile. (I am an equal opportunity offender)

The list of things to remember about Brotherhood below is no where near a complete list, but feel free to add and comment, I am only one voice.

• Brotherhood is not something we pay lip service to while we are at work.
• It is not limited to just YOUR shift. 
• I can't tell if you are male, female, black, white, or purple when you have your gear on. 
• If you can do the job, you can do the job. 
• Paid or Volly, the fire ain't gonna know the difference. The difference is a volly has to be more committed to train, cause they are not getting paid to do it while on duty. 
• Just because a good many of us choose to get a college degree, or go to classes, schools, and training above what our department is currently doing right now, that does not make us losers or brown noses. It means we want to be as safe and well informed as possible. (knowledge is power) 
• Departmental politics has absolutely nothing to do with brotherhood. ( I don't like him because he doesn't clean the toilet the way I do). Every Department has the in-house politics, no way around it, it is human nature. The best thing to do is if you have to be in a "Clique" be in the one that don't care about being in a "Clique" just say'n
• Brotherhood is more than just a union membership in fact just because you pay union dues, that don't make you part of the real brotherhood. (ouch i know) In kind, just because some one chooses not to join a union or can't join a union don't make them any less of a brother. 
• The same as above goes for any group we form within our ranks, such as some of my favs and am even a member of, like the FOOLS, or Red Knights, or other clubs we set up for ourselves. These organizations are GREAT and are meant to support our fellow bothers and sisters. 
• Brotherhood is more than wearing a T Shirt or carrying a challenge coin in your pocket
• If you question my brotherhood because I call you out for being reckless and unsafe, then you might wanna check yourself. 
• If you lay back in training or are not commited to train, then that means you don't care about your brothers and sisters because by laying back, you are putting their lives at risk. 
• Just because some one doesn't catch on to something as fast as you do, it don't mean they are no good at it, or will not be better than you at it one day, they may just need some coaching and or mentoring. You were new at it one time yourself. They may be much better at something that you suck at. 
• If you think that because some one has rank that they don't remember what it's like to ride backwards, or remember what Brotherhood is all about, think again. 
• You might think some of the "old guys" are out of touch or have no use in a department, don't forget they have been there and done that and most have lots of knowledge to offer. 
• There are two types of people that do this type of job, paid or volly, it's the same. 
• There are the people who do this because we love it, want to make a difference, and are here to just do the job as good as we can. That's it. No big secret here, no mystery to figure out. 
• Then there are the folks who want to been recognized as a firefighter.  They want whatever notoriety they think comes with it, or as some of us say, they want to wear the T shirts, and have some pics of them in bunker gear to put on their facebook and ride in the parade but they don't like to sweat. 

I have also heard there are two types of females in the fire service but I am not female so I will not speak on this.

As most of you who would even bother to read this knows, it takes blood, sweat and tears to even try to be good at this. I have been working at it for over twenty years and I don't even think I am even close to being as good as I want to be. I also don't pretend to be one of the guys who is awesome at Fire, Rescue or EMS, but the thing is, I would like to be. I think that is another thing that brings us all together, most of us are striving to be better at the job than we ever thought we could be.

I know this has been a Rambling Rant, and if you agree with me cool, but if you don't then don't read my blog anymore. If you still have no Idea what I am talking about, then I'm sorry I don't have any way to explain it to you but this. Those of us who risk our lives to help others share a common bond. We share the same problems, same joy, pain, and heartache, this makes us one. We may do things a little different in different places but we are all one family. Or at least that's the way I see it. If I have to explain any further, well no offense, but you wouldn't understand.

So take care of each other, help each other and be careful out there.

Joe Mancos
FTM-PTB, KTF, RFB, DTRT

"I'm from up North.....North Carolina that is" (Part 1 ?)

Early this fall I took a trip to the National Fire Academy in Emmitsburg Md. I was surprised to see friends from NC I have met over the years I have spent in Fire, Rescue and EMS also there taking classes, it was kind of like having a little bit of good ol' North Carolina up there with me. I also saw some folks that where there from other parts of the country that I have met in classes I have taken up there. That is one of the great things about taking classes of that caliber in different parts of the country, meeting people with common interest and goals from around the country, or world even. At dinner one night I was talking to some of my new friends from pretty much all over the US about their Fire, Rescue and EMS services and the impact of networking with other professionals helps because it shows us that we all have similar problems and together we can find answers to some of those problems. Then it happened, it always does, we started talking about the regions of the country we are from and they bring up my accent and say something like, "Joe we could at tell where you are from when you opened your mouth the first time." 

In most classes that I have attended you have to stand up and tell who you are, what you do , and where you are from. I have started telling people, "If you can't tell by my accent, I am from up North......... North Carolina that is...." I do this to make an attempt to break the ice with people and to pick at myself a bit to show that I try not to take myself too serious. This brings me to the point of this rambling mess. People always comment on my true, honest and no frills way of speaking.

 God saw fit for me to to be born in the Southeastern part of NC. I take great pride in that fact. I also take pride in the fact that we have our own way of speaking in the south. If you listen carefully you can tell where some one is from in NC just by their accent or subtle changes in dialect. People from the eastern part of the state say things a bit different than people from the western part of the state. Most of us born and raised in NC have similar accents but to us it is as obvious as the preference in the sauce we like on our Bar B Que pork. (You pretty much have to be from NC to know that there is a difference, Tomato based in the west and vinegar and peppers in the east.)

I have often told people that I know proper English, I just chose not to use it. I prefer to use the honest and sometimes quite humorous little southern sayings that I grew up with. I use words and praises like, "fixen to" meaning I am about to do something. I like the little sayings to describe things, people or situations, for example, "she was mad as a wet settin' hen" or "I'm finer than a frog hair split three ways." Meaning "she was pretty angry" and "I am doing fine, how are you?" I think this way of speaking is like playing Jazz, you should only do it if you know how. Some one "trying" to talk with a southern accent hurts my ears, and you can always tell because non-southerners keep using the word "ya'll" in the singular. No true southerner would ever use the word "ya'll" unless they were referring to more than one person.

As you may have read in another post of mine, I know that people often hear a Southern accent and equate it with ignorance. Those of you that live here and love it here know this is far from the truth. Just look at the internationally known medical centers and centers for higher learning UNC, Duke, Wake Forrest just to name a few here in NC. Not all southern folk are dumb redneck hillbillies some are pretty smart and quite literate (eg.Welty, Williams, Faulkner). The slower drawn out NC accent is just a reflection to a slower and simpler time.

I guess we just need to be proud of where are from as well as proud of who we are. If you are from New England or the Midwest or out on the West Coast you should be proud of it and embrace how being from there has helped shape you to be. This is probably the first of a few blogs about being raised in NC and the south in general. If you like what you are reading, leave a comment.

A Tale of Two Christmases

I wrote this a couple of years back for an assignment for school. It was before my wife's "Granny" passed away and and she is missed during this season so this is for "Granny Byrd" and everyone we all miss during this special holiday.

A Tale of Two Christmases

Last year I spent some quality time reading the Charles Dickens story A Christmas Carol. My reading started the wheels in my head turning and thinking about what the Ghost of Christmas Past and Present would have to show me. I love the holidays as an adult almost as much as I did as a child. Christmas is a magical time meant for children, family and love.

I picture the Ghost of Christmas Past taking me to my mom and dad’s house on Christmas Eve. The smells from the kitchen would make my mouth water and my belly growl. My face would be chapped from being outside hunting all day with my dad and the rest of the men in the family. Mom would be in a rush trying to get us all ready to go to Aunt Rosa’s for the family’s Christmas gathering. The only worries on my mind were gifts and what was for supper.

Aunt Rosa’s house is where mom’s whole family would gather for Christmas Eve to eat supper and exchange gifts. The gathering involved singing religious carols, children delighting in the splendor of the evening and don’t forget the food. The amount of southern style food on that table boggles the mind. I gain weight just thinking of the desert table. After the meal, everyone would exchange gifts. I can still feel the excitement as the night would draw to an end, and we would pack up the gifts and mom and dad would talk of the coming of Santa Claus. The ride home was only a few miles, but it felt like forever. I imagine the Ghost of Christmas Past would carry me back home to watch my mom and dad try to corral my older sister and me into bed so Santa could come.

Christmas morning would start by Mom and Dad getting up early and making breakfast. I imagine the meal was mostly for them to gather their strength for the rest of the morning to come. Dad and I went deer hunting every Christmas, so the gift giving came early. Mom would hand out the presents. Dad would take pictures and help with the one big gift that Santa would leave under the tree. The rest of the day was spent hunting with dad. Taking me hunting was Dad’s way of spending quality time with me that I will never forget.

The ghost of Christmas present has a hard act to follow. As in the Dickens novel, the spirit and I travel to my Uncle Jessie’s house for Christmas Eve. The family moved the gathering to his house because it is bigger and the family has grown quite large. Some of the faces have changed, but the night remains much the same. I am one of the grown-ups now and see the wonder and amazement of the magical night in the eyes of my son. The women of the family still cook too much food, and the family still exchanges gifts. The night consists of singing, eating and the love that only comes from family.  

My wife and I get up early and eat breakfast to gain our strength for the day to come. My favorite time of the day begins when Logan emerges from his bedroom. The excitement and wonder in his face is enough to make any father smile. Like the days of my childhood, Angela passes out the gifts while I take pictures. Santa leaves Logan one big gift every year.

Angela starts preparing food to take to Granny Byrd’s house. Once again, the wonderful smells of food fill my home.  The rest of the day is spent at the home of my wife’s grandmother. Angela’s family gathers there to eat, exchange gifts and be with each other as a family.

My tale of two Christmases may not be exciting enough to base a novel on, but the Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present would find an enduring theme. There is no Ebenezer Scrooge in my family; only folks like Bob Cratchit.  Christmas in my family is about the birth of Christ, the wonder of childhood and the love of a wonderful family.

Yes Ma’am, Manners Do Matter

Some time ago I wrote this for a class and it is not the kind of stuff usally write, but I it made me laugh when I read it again.

Yes Ma’am, Manners Do Matter

            I was sitting with my wife in a nice restaurant some time back. I consider a restaurant that uses cloth napkins a nice place. We were enjoying each-other’s company and a nice meal. The meal was ruined by the loud “honking” of grown man blowing his nose in one of those cloth napkins. My thoughts suddenly turned away from the nice meal and wonderful conversation. The conversation turned to how people seem to have, as my mother would say, “lost their manners.” I was taught that if you must blow your nose to excuse yourself and go the rest room. I have been told that I am being too sensitive, but it appears to me that manners are quickly becoming a thing of the past.

            I know that I am as Southern as grits and sweet iced tea, but growing up in Southeastern North Carolina it was correct to say, “Yes ma’am” and “No ma’am.” It is also advised to use please and thank you. The punishment for not using common courtesy, while talking to adults, would have surely included a trip to the switch bush and walking with a serious limp. We also use words like y’all, used in the plural and never the singular. The phrase fixin’ to is used to say, “I am about to…” It was acceptable to use such words and phrases around home, but we were also taught to use correct grammar.  Many people from other regions of the United States, with different accents, equate a Southern accent with ignorance or an uneducated person. Southerners may never live this stereotype down, but we are some of the most polite people on the planet.

My family was serious about manners, and there were different sets of manners for each situation. It was important to know how to talk to people and to get your point across in a polite way. Knowing how to act around other people was also important. The set of rules varied with each situation. Table manners were especially important in public places or when we had company over. Mom made us practice table manners even if we didn’t have company. “No need to act like a bunch of heathens, just because we don’t have company,” Mom would say. Most table manners were basic courtesy. The rule about gross noises at the table rule is a good example of basic courtesy. The no gross noise rule should be self-explanatory. It was also considered extremely rude to talk with food in your mouth or smack your food. Knowing which fork to use or what to do with each glass has never been the most important part of table manners, but treating each other with respect is the main focus.

I am teaching my son the importance of using manners when talking to adults. This translates later in life to showing respect to authority figures and those who are older than we are. I still say, “Yes sir” to my father, unlike a friend who is from north of the Mason Dixon line who feels that it is too formal to call her mom Ma’am or her dad Sir. I feel that this shows them I respect and love them.

 My dad told me long ago, “A little courtesy will take you far in life.” An old saying I have often quoted is, “You can catch more flies with sugar than vinegar.” The point I am trying to make is we are letting our children and grandchildren down, if we don’t teach them manners. They will need manners later in life when applying for a job or trying to find a mate. The best way to teach manners is to set the example and use them ourselves.

Mr. Wilson's Store

Mr. Wilson’s Store

  Mr. Martin Wilson was a man that went to our church in the little town I grew up in. The town was so small that there were few buildings in the

Main street

area. One building that grew near to my heart was a small, outdated gas station and grocery store. The town was not big enough to support a chain grocery store, so Mr. Wilson sold most everything you would need right there  in his little store, much like the old general stores I remember reading about in western novels. Mr. Wilson sold leaded and unleaded gas, most any grocery item you might need such as bread or milk. He even sold some hardware. Mr. Wilson sold many things at his old store, but the most important things he gave away.  

 One of my best memories of childhood was standing in front of a candy counter lined with big glass containers of candy and my Dad helping me to pick out a bag full of candy to take home. Mr. Wilson’s store offered what we called nickel and dime candy much like the old stores one might read about. After picking out what I wanted we would sit down and have a Coke, out of one of those old small 6 oz Coke bottles. It was sitting in the corner that I learned what really happened in that old store and it had more to do with life than buying or selling gasoline.

    Most accounts state that Mr. Wilson opened his store in the 1950’s. From that time on the families in the small town could buy anything they needed there like any other store but Mr. Wilson offered credit to those who could not pay. It was told, after his death, that many children would have gone to bed hungry if it had not been for Mr. Wilson. Those who could pay him paid when they could.

   There was more to that store than being supplied with material things that one could buy. Mr. Wilson was a man with strong convictions and a natural love for his fellow man. He along with others from the town started the town’s first Rescue Squad to care for the sick and injured of the area. Martin Wilson and his wife Ruby were strong influences in the church and community not so much by what they said but how they lived their lives.

  I like many kids waited on the school bus under the little shed in front of the store. Mr. Wilson would tell me stories of when my mom and dad were young. He would also tell stories that were entertaining but taught a lesson. I didn’t know it then but he was teaching us about living a good life. I never asked for anything while waiting for the ride to school but it seamed that most of the time I left for school with a piece of bubble gum or a jaw breaker that he had given me.

   I have talked with people over the years about him and have never heard anyone say anything but good things. The reoccurring theme has been the way he not only talked to people about Jesus and living a good life but he was a living example of a “good man”. The Preacher that conducted the funeral service for Mr. Wilson said that he was told, “The only way you can mess up this service is to say anything bad about this man.”

  In the little store in Tar Heel North Carolina this man made an honest living for his family. He fed, clothed and educated 6 children. He sold things that families needed everyday. He provided a service that the little town needed. The important things that came out of that store were given away. He gave people a way to feed a family when they had no money. He gave us a place to wait for the bus to school out of the cold. The most important thing he gave us was a good example.