Safe Arrival

Dear Synchro,

I'm glad to have received 'word' you are safely stationed in that land far away. You and your comrades work so diligently for the safety of the rest of us - the sacrifices that you make, the rest of us seem to take so lightly. You're confined at the end of your long work day, while we in the United States can play in our own yards, travel around and do as we please.

So I just have to say I admire you - always have - your discipline, your seriousness, your honesty and sincerity. It makes me proud to be an American, and gives me hope. Sometimes it seems like a lot of things in the world are screwed up, but with people like you 'keeping it real,' I think we're in good hands. Keep inspiring me, because it's harder to take the lazy way out knowing someone like you is out there busting her back in unpleasant, crowded, foreign conditions every day.

I think we have spent more time corresponding from a distance over the years, by now, than we were ever able to spend time together. That's an interesting thing in itself - it takes a certain commitment, but it's felt so worthwhile, the time has been no factor. We were so young when we were in the same town - but your photos look to me like you've hardly changed. It must be all that good living that you do!

I know you are living more than a lifetime there, and seeing things so rough and difficult for human beings to see - skip as lightly as you can my friend, and know you are made from the grace of God, and let not misery hurt you, but continue to bring your own goodwill to others. The world needs you, our soldier girl. It must - that's why you are there.

In my kitchen hangs a photographic calendar, and this month's featured layout is of Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah. You have travelled so much - I think you wrote me once that you had been there, and to Zion in Utah - maybe someday, in another life, we'll go there, and look at all the moonscape-like natural monuments, and relax. I'll be talking to you soon.

Yours truly,

Tailwind

That war history museum in Auburn IN

The display was ominous, imposing. The oil portrait of the Fuhrer in black riding boots, Adolph himself - the old painting ornamented with gilded frame, mounted within Plexiglas, dangling overhead.

It was very heavy, hanging from cables to the roof's metal beams, and it was tilted forward - we suppose for one's better viewing. Yet it swayed slightly overhead, suspended from its cables, and creaked. It was so ominous it made even a sensible person wonder if Hitler was about to claim yet more victims when his portrait came crashing down, breaking through its Plexiglas case.

The display was entitled, "Rising Tyrants," and gave histories of four of the world's most infamous leaders at the beginning of WWII. It was sobering, dramatic, and I saw more than one person stop and read the whole thing in its entirety - lessons about absolute power corrupting absolutely, one might say. It sets the tone at the large open 'pole barn/airplane hangar' structure that houses the museums, setting the stage right before one walks up to all the vehicles, tanks, trucks and armament unfolding behind.

The museum has equipment and displays about different phases of the war - warfare in Poland, Italy, the Soviet Union, etc. It features themes such as the Battle of the Bulge, the Meeting on the Elbe (where the Russians and the U.S. met), and an Atomic Bomb exhibit. You could easily allow a whole day or more to see and read about everything here.

I don't know what one calls a diorama when it's large, three-dimensional, and free-standing in the middle of a room - a scale model with buildings, planes, tanks, soldiers, etc. representing a snow-covered European town, now battlefield - but there's an awesome thing such as this in the museum, bringing reality and perspective after one walks through all the big tanks and such. Saddening, to feel the imposing reality of war - but necessary for us to contemplate and remember, and help to educate the younger generations.

The so-called World War II Victory Museum is just one entity in this large structure - they have plenty of land out in the country, across the interstate from the Kruse auction park - the place where thousands of cars have gone for auction over Labor Day weekends. You may have read about it - the business that was sold to e:bay, was later bought back, and then went under, owners unable to collect on the promised funds for some of those auctioned cars. Still lots of legal messes surrounding all that and Dean Kruse, but it's nice all of these artifacts on the other side of the highway have been preserved.

Meanwhile, these airplane hangar-like buildings hold an automotive and carriage museum, a local baseball history museum, and more odds and ends. There are presidential and celebrity cars, and stuff from the movies and memorabilia. But more on all that later. Be sure to check out the large war history side - there are personal mementos from people's war experiences, lots of enlarged photographs - it's worth your time.

World War II Museum in Auburn

There is a museum on the south west side of Auburn, Indiana, at the same Interstate 69 interchange as the famous Kruse auction park. The museum is a composite of several museums, and has a large collection of World War II military vehicles, among many other things.

There's lots of stuff to see here, and I'm going to write more about the museums themselves later, but this blog entry will focus on one small exhibit they have regarding the 509th B-29 bomb group, which flew out of Tinian to bomb Japan.

Among photos and other memorabilia, the museum had printed out a fact sheet about the atomic bombs and the 509th composite military group. As you'll see, there is a Fort Wayne connection to the B-29 Enola Gay, if only through the artist who stenciled the nose art on the plane.

Initial casualties for Hiroshima and Nagasaki totaled about 150,00 Japanese, according to the exhibit's information. Incendiary raids on Japan in Tokyo in Feb.-March of 1945 killed approx. 100,000 Japanese. This exhibit tries to point out more Japanese, overall, were killed by fire bombing or incendiary raids than anything else. Ok?

So, right before the Enola Gay B-29 was fueled up and sent out on her terrible mission with the atomic bomb, a graphic artist from Fort Wayne, Indiana stenciled "Enola Gay" on her nose, just hours beforehand. The artist, Nelson Miller, was stationed on the island. This was the only plane within the bomb group that had any type of art on it before the surrender, to reduce planes being identified by the enemy. The large plane was named in honor of pilot Colonel Paul Tibbet's mother, Enola Gay Haggard Tibbet.

The museum information states there were only two fully assembled atomic bombs on Tinian. The Hiroshima drop went as planned. Initially, for the second bomb drop, the city of Kokura was to be the target. Cloud cover forced the plane to re-route and bomb Nagasaki instead. Never knew that factoid.

Although at this point no plutonium was left on the island of Tinian, all the other bomb components were there waiting to be assembled. B-29s were dispatched to the United States to bring back more plutonium. The war ended before a third mission was dispatched.

One thing that was kind of amazing to me, was the first successful atomic test happened on July 16 in New Mexico, and the Little Boy bomb was dropped on Hiroshima only 3 weeks later, August 6. That was fast. Tough times back in 1945.

Up in rural Auburn, at this surprising museum and elsewhere, there is a lot to see - I definitely recommend it, and I'll talk to you later.

We ran down a rabbit in the tall grass

It's been a busy summer. Lots of hot weather, lots going on- water skiing, relatives visiting, activities - and now the kids are going back to school. It's only mid-August, so summer isn't over yet - it's a bittersweet feeling to think the kids could still be out playing, yet kind of a relief that they are now occupied and out of sight - I was waiting for this day, and yet summer is gone in a flash.

I'd like to write about going to a great World War II museum in Auburn Indiana, or talk about standing under the large bronze horse statue of General "Mad" Anthony Wayne in downtown Fort Wayne, but I won't today. I need a day to reflect about the passage of time, kids growing up, and the river of change. One child's last year to be at an elementary school. Weren't they just getting dropped off at the pre-school door?

There was a summer when the now-teenager was about seven - maybe a little older or younger, but fairly little -and she was fast, like a flying bug. That kind of right-out-of-the-blocks quick as a kid can be, without all the size to slow down the initial inertia. She could take off like a shot, feet flying.

One day little Sammy (nickname) and I were walking in the tall grass on the property, where there was just a travel trailer and a sandy beach in rural Noble County, Indiana. I don't know now where we were going, but we startled up a juvenile rabbit, probably out from under the travel trailer. It wasn't a baby, it was fast, and it took off running. Sammy and I made eye contact and without a word, we took off after it.

We didn't both get right behind it - it would've been too fast for that. We separated slightly - I turned slightly downhill, and Sammy took off faster on the high side, flanking it. And in a second or two, I yelled "turn it," and she did, herding it, if you will, right towards me. And without thinking, without talking, I pounced on it - I grabbed it. There would have been no hesitant-picking-it-up. I came down around it fingers, legs, and all, and grabbed it up firmly in my hands.

It was a cute little wild grey rabbit, trembling, wide-eyed, but it didn't bite. We held it, and looked at it, and took it to show other kids around - and then let it go. When it finally ran away, it took off under the grass, very fast, and disappeared. But it had been very soft, and its heart beat rapidly, and we were thrilled and proud we had caught it. How did we know what to do, and why had we wordlessly decided to chase it? I don't know, but that incident is burned into my memory. As my child gets older and transitions into those teenage years, I think I'll always remember the teamwork we had in the tall grass that day, and a summer memory for us both, to keep for the ages. I hope you have a wonderful day, and a good memory of your own.

Black Pine Animal Park, part 2

In the previous post, I was writing about some of the histories of the animals we encountered at the Black Pine Animal Park in Albion, Indiana. I had started to mention Nala, which is one of the largest African lions I have ever seen - they said she weighs at least 500 pounds.

The first "house pet" adopted by Black Pine, Nala was being raised in a home with young children before a judge intervened and ordered her removal. (People are just whacked.) Someone tried to remove her claws when she was a cub in the home, and the brochure said this had been 'botched' somehow, and the resulting effect contributed to her weight gain. These cages aren't far from the human fence - watch out little kids, because these predators track and stalk the movement of little things like humans, they can't help it. This can be frightening for a small child, but an interesting thing to actually experience - the powerful human momentarily reduced to the feeling of being prey. Maybe a good reality check? I hope the cages are solid.

It's nice this facility prints a brochure that profiles the exhibited animals. It's more than just a map, it's a history of many animal life journies. The brochure also clearly states rules for human behavior in the park (assuming all the visitors and their children can and will read. Specifically, English.) It cost $7 for adults to enter and $6 for kids, and a bag of critter food is $1. There are 70 animals housed on 18 acres. My family and I thought the visit here was worthwhile. Look them up on their website: http://www.blackpine.org/. Remember, you can also take advantage of the more in-depth tours offered- private, guided.

The place is food for thought. To lighten the mood a bit, I've included this snapshot I took in the Reptile house - a framed box of laundry detergent from Indonesia or Malaysia. There is no sign to explain the failure of translation or cultural faux pas here. It's funny how a little miscommunication can be so powerful sometimes. Chew on that for a while and I'll see you later.

Black Pine Animal Park

If you're in the mood to see some animal species not native to Indiana, you might want to check out the Black Pine Animal Sanctuary in Albion. This country park is not a zoo but a refuge for no-longer wanted exotic animals, abandoned or cast-off from elsewhere.

Remote, in a lovely wooded setting, Black Pine is open daily in the summer. Other times of the year, tours can be scheduled by appointment.

The cages are not state-of-the-art, but many of the animals are close up and easy to view - there was also lots of nice shade on the paths, which really helped cut down on the heat. In one area, the only chimpanzee in Indiana, a retired circus performer, is housed indoors. Work on his large outdoor play yard is ongoing, as Black Pine raises enough money to finish the structure. In the meantime, the chimp has to stay in a building all the time. It's obvious housing some of these big, smart, strong primates must be very expensive.

It makes me think of a capriciousness and ego that comes with the human species. The life-long implications of capturing and breeding. How poignant to see them now turned out; as much as I appreciate animals for education, to me they simply don't belong in cages. But this is a world-wide tradition and industry that is way beyond me.

I am most struck by Chui, a black African leopard. He is the most impressive, perfect, wonderful thing. His eyes glow, the hint of the leopard spots can barely be seen under his black color. Yet, he seems so reduced, so resentful to be there - it's painful to watch. I feel sorry he can't somehow be released into the wild. The brochure states he was rescued from the pet trade.

There is a building full of reptiles, and some large parrots and macaws- turtles and these large birds can sometimes live 100 years. The implications of that means some of these creatures have had to suffer through a series of owners.

The park has its up moments -one is a barnyard area with a dwarf horse, deer, ostrich, rhea and emu. Although these are behind a fence, visitors can purchase food and feed them. This kind of thing is always a crowd pleaser. There are other wayward pets here such as a couple of pigs, and a seven-foot-tall, creaky camel that used to be featured in the Ringling Bros & Barnum and Bailey Circus (explain that last title to me). So big he's scary.

In part two of this article, soon to be posted, I'll tell you about Nala, a rescued African Lioness that was the hugest I have ever seen, at 500 pounds. Up close and almost personal. See you soon.

Chief Little Turtle's gravesite

Not far from downtown Fort Wayne, in the middle of a residential neighborhood with homes on both sides, is the grave site and a memorial for Chief Little Turtle, who lived in the area from about 1747 (his approx. birth) until his death in 1812. A great warrior chieftain, he was later known as a peacemaker, who encouraged his followers to make treaties with the U.S. Govt.

Born perhaps near Churubusco (also called Turtletown) he was the hereditary war chief of the Miami Indians. His father was Big Turtle. When the French attacked Kekionga (now Fort Wayne) before the American Revolution, Little Turtle retaliated and fought on the side of the British. It was all part of a larger battle for Detroit. But after the Americans won the revolution in 1776, the British abandoned their native allies, and the U.S. claimed the Indian territories on the other side of the Ohio. The Indians weren't taking it. Little Turtle began fighting against this group of white men.

Many Indian tribes united and fought the new Americans, and in one battle 600 American soldiers were killed. But after the Indian tribes were defeated at the Battle of Fallen Timbers, Little Turtle ceased fighting and repeatedly called for peace with the new government. He went against other Native American leaders in this cause, and also visited several U.S. Presidents.

Little Turtle's daughter was married to William Wells, who was a big fighter as well. After the Miami villages were destroyed in the War of 1812, Little Turtle moved in with Wells and died that year. He was given a U.S. military funeral in Fort Wayne.

His grave was eventually forgotten, though, and then rediscovered during home construction excavation in 1912. His swords and other memorabilia were taken to the Allen County Historical Society, and his grave was left alone. In 1959, the Smeltzly sisters bought the property to be preserved as a park and memorial, as a piece of history and a tribute to peacemakers. There are only low plaques, stone markers and wildflowers at the site - very minimalistic, and also beautiful.

I love this unusual little park. It must be interesting to live on this street and have it sitting there in what looks like an empty lot for a house. It has a lovely winding path and lots of trees, but it isn't overly manicured, I suppose to give one the effect of just being a Naive American, walking through the woods. It feels very peaceful and sacred somehow. As tossed aside as these native people were, to somehow, this grave being found after all those years and called important by a few lowly women and preserved - there is something powerful in that.

Drive up streets like the appropriately named Spy Run in Fort Wayne, curve off at Tennessee, and ask locals about the grave for Chief Little Turtle. To me, it's just a special as any big bronze statue of General "Mad" Anthony Wayne in Friemann Square. Trappers, traders, old forts; there is lots of interesting history to be found in Fort Wayne.