Why I'm Here: I'm here to help with "Grief Control". I know a bit about grief; it comes from many sources. Whatever its origin, it hurts, and robs us of the productive lives we should lead. When we grieve too long and too hard, we're of no help to either ourselves or anyone else.
Lewis Briley
About the music: My sound system is not too good, so I don't know what it sounds like. I chose "These Little Things Remind Me of You" because those who come here are in pain, remembering someone - and such memories should be bittersweet, not merely bitter.
Grief comes from death, (violent or not), but it comes from other things too. My own deepest loss was not from the death of a person, but from something hurting far worse than the death of even my beloved Dad. Grief is grief, and I'm just as outraged as if a loved family member was snatched away from me. If I'd had someone like Lynne to talk to then, it would not have happened (Lynne, you should have been born many years sooner).
As to death - we've met, far too often. In my family, in addition to all of the natural deaths, have been two murders, a suicide, and a very near fatal attempted suicide (others' privacy concerns do not permit my giving the details). Through all the years of a military career I lost service buddies and other close friends. I've learned that each of our lives touches others', and that grief is made lighter when shared with someone who sincerely cares. Oddly, sharing others' burdens lightens our own; grief need not and should not be borne in solitary misery. No one should have to grieve all alone, as I've done; it just isn't right. We are commanded "bear ye one another's burdens". While God gives me strength to listen, and wisdom to advise and help, I will.
About me: I now live in Pipe Creek, Texas, a small village in the Texas Hill Country; about 40 miles North West of San Antonio. I'm pushing 67; father of two, grandfather of seven, and "Pop-Pop" to every kid (of any age, 2 to 90) in our little neighborhood. I love it! I've been married to the same bride for almost 41 years, so at least I did something right. Long ago I was ordained a Ruling Elder in the Presbyterian Church, but recently joined the small-town Baptist church where my children go. When someone is in trouble and needs my help I first try to tell them of Jesus' love and power, but do not preach to nor "thump the bible" at them.
My Background: It's hard to describe 67 years in so short a space, but I'll try: Born during the Great Depression to very poverty stricken parents, my sisters and I were taken from them by the State of Florida. One sister and I were adopted by a loving couple; prosperous, but far too old. Two years later our new mother died; Dad re-married a few years later, surrendered all control to his new wife, and I became the proverbial "orphan stepchild". I was thus raised by an ultra-strict stepmother, so old that she'd turned teen-ager in the 19th century and idolized Queen Victoria. Very religious, very mercenary, acquisitive and much too manipulating, she had few real ethics; but oh, how she believed in discipline! The extreme altruism that she (very literally) beat into me inescapably shaped my outlook on life.
During the Korean War I dropped out of college (Pre-Ministry) and enlisted in the Air Force. I spent about 15 years in what is now Air Force Intelligence Command; retrained into computer programming, was Honor Graduate of the Air Force School of Data Systems Analysis and Design, and after serving twenty years, retired. I very briefly studied law with the University of Maryland (European Division), and did well; but I am not a lawyer, and don't want to be. With no formal training as a paralegal tech, I did quite a lot of that anyway as an "additional duty" (mostly regarding the military justice system). On retiring from the Air Force I had another long career as a computer programmer/analyst. Escaping from the "big city", I retired altogether a few years ago here in my wife's home town. For about three years, until I recently resigned, I was the Tribal Administrator and driving force of a state-wide Indian tribe (American Cherokee Tribe of Texas).
My Stance on Capital Punishment, and Why: Unalterably opposed. While overseas I saw many gruesome public hangings, by slow strangulation; during the hanging of a 10-year old boy (a thief and pick-pocket), my own pocket was picked. There and in many other places I learned that brutal law enforcement does not suppress violent crime, but rather makes criminals even more brutal. As a college student I was once "run in" for car theft and though quite innocent acquired a "blotter record" as a "usual suspect", all because I parked my car illegally. My car had been impounded, and I paid my fine. But I was from out of town, the police remembered me, so I was hounded by being pulled out of class and "run in" frequently - until (for that, and other good reasons) I just gave up and quit school. I have since seen gross miscarriages of justice in the courts, both civil and criminal. Having been career military I believe in firm law enforcement, but demand that it be equal and fair; and I now greatly doubt the fairness, "justice", integrity, and "inerrancy" of our system. While a sentry in Libya, I shot an Arab intruder who fled at my order to halt. I discovered later that he was probably there by mistake; unarmed, lost, confused, panic-stricken, and a threat to no one. His body was probably dragged away by friends, and was not found; so I was fined and verbally reprimanded for "wasting" a round. As an official sharpshooter and expert with the weapon I carried (still have one like it), I know that I did not miss, but hit and killed him instantly. Killing in combat is one thing, but that was sickening; the memory still is.
Until I witness a successful resurrection by a human court, I shall object to the courts' using the death penalty. In 1960, because of accumulated personal stress, I suffered some sort of unreported, undiagnosed and untreated mental breakdown. I did not report it, as that would have been the end of my military career; I recovered on my own, after almost a year. During that time, I said and did irrational things of which even now I have no memory. I had previously thought myself to be the "Rock of Gibraltar"; but now I now that mental trauma, like physical injury, can happen to ANYBODY. I am therefore quite credulous about those who while temporarily insane commit violent crime. I have the very greatest sympathy for the survivors of murder victims; in fact, I myself am one; but I see no sense in or need for adding yet more killing to killing, more death to death, and more grief to grief.
Lewis Briley
These Foolish Things (Remind Me Of You)
Music By: Jack Strachey and Harry Link
Words By: Holt Marvell
From the Musical Revue: Spread It Abroad - 1936
A cirgarette that bears a lipstick traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumbling words that told you what my heart meant
A fairground painted swings
These foolish things remind me of you
You came, you saw
You conquered me
When you did that to me
I knew somehow, this had to be
The winds of March that makes
my heart a dancer
The telephone that rings but who's to answer
Oh, how the ghost of you clings
These foolish things remind me of you
The smile of Turner and the scent of roses
The waiter whistling as the last bar closes
The song that Crosby sings
These foolish things remind me of you
