My special Christmas was when I had a heart attack

Last Christmas was probably my best Christmas ever. I mentioned this to my friend Harry who responded with, “Wasn’t that when you had a heart attack?”
“What? I never had a heart attack. All I had was a small heart procedure.”
“You were in the Hospital during Christmas” said Harry.
“Actually it was the day before Christmas Eve and I was out the next day.”
“Still doesn’t sound like much of Christmas to me,” said my friend.
“It was a great Christmas. Let me tell you what happened: I try to exercise by going on walks.  I noticed, on one of my walks, pressure on my heart and numbness in my left arm.”
Harry shook his head and said, “That could be serious.”
“I didn’t think it was serious, ‘cause as soon as I slowed down the pressure and numbness went away.
The next day, I walked the same route and the same thing happened.”
“Did you call a Doctor?”
“Naw, I didn’t say a thing.”
Harry shook his head. “That’s dumb.”
“Harry, I thought it was my overactive imagination. I’d hate to have my doctor think that I’m a hypochondriac.”
“You’ve nothing to lose, everyone knows you’re a nut.” quipped Harry, “When did call your doctor?”
“I mumbled something to my wife, and she came down on me like a hurricane.”
“I didn’t want to incur the wrath of wife, so I called my doctor.” I paused for effect.
“Of course she dialed the phone and stood by while I made the appointment.
I saw my doctor the next day. I had taken a treadmill stress test earlier that year and did well.
I expected him to tell me that I was a big faker and send me home, instead he arranged for me to take a Thallium Stress Test.”
“Sure,” said Harry “A Thallium Stress Test is where they inject radioactive thallium into your blood stream.”
“That’s right” I replied: “A special camera scans your heart. They then give you a traditional treadmill test. As you are about to complete the test, they again inject a radioactive substance into your blood stream, and send you back to have the camera take more pictures of your heart.
I thought that the test would clear me. I had no sooner arrived at home than I got a telephone call from my doctor. He told me that the test results indicated a possible abnormality. He said that he would arrange for me to see a Cardiologist.
My visit with the Cardiologist was a short one. He told me that he would like to do an Angiogram and may, if there is a blockage, place a drug-coated stent on one of my veins.”
I had responded with a nod.
“Good,” said the doctor. “We’ll do it tomorrow afternoon. If we put in a stent, we will have to keep you overnight. Otherwise we will probably send you home in about six hours.”
I reported to the hospital early, got prepped, was given a pill to relax and fell asleep.
I woke up in recovery, feeling alert and wide-awake. The doctor walked in and said “Bill, we did a Coronary Angiogram followed by a Balloon Angioplasty. We placed a drug-coated stent in your left anterior descending coronary artery. Your artery was 80% blocked but it’s open now, and you should be well on the road to recovery. We’ll be keeping you overnight in the hospital, so that we can monitor how your heart’s doing. You probably won’t remember a thing I say…”
“Oh yeah?” thought I.
My daughter drove me home on Christmas Eve. My wife and I settled in for a nice quiet evening. A friend drove my wife to church on Sunday and I stayed home reading and watching television.
My daughter telephoned and told us that she, my son and his family would be over that afternoon.
I looked up at my wife and asked her what we would feed the people? My wife said that we had some stew in the fridge.
We should not have worried. My family brought food with them and my son cooked a wonderful Christmas Dinner for all of us.
Presents were opened, and everyone had a good time.
I still remember my four-year-old Grand Daughter telling everyone that she wanted to say grace.
She clasped her hands together, bowed her head and said:
“God is great, God is good, God bless this our food. Amen!”
I turned to my friend Harry and said. “I think that this was by far my best Christmas ever. I was given life, I was given love, and I was given a wonderful family. I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas.”

Who was James A. Garfield?

I like the new golden dollar coins, particularly the Presidential series. On November 17th 2011, the US Mint released the James A. Garfield Dollar.

There are cities, counties, schools and public buildings named after this President. I find this amazing because he was only President for 200 days.
I mentioned Garfield to my friend Harry who seems to know just about everything.
“Oh yeah, I love Garfield,” said Harry. “So do my grand kids.”
“Huh?”
“I think that there’s a Christmas Special about him,” burbled my friend.
I shook my head.
“I think you’re talking about a cartoon cat, not the 20th President of the United States.”
Harry just laughed.
I told Harry that I had done a bit of reading about our nations 20th President. I let him know that I was most impressed with what I learned about Garfield.
“He may have only been President for 200 days, but he accomplished a lot during the time that he was in office.”
“Like what?” asked Harry.
“He pushed for Civil Service and Post Office reform. In the old days, people were given political jobs based on party loyalty, not on ability. He believed in Civil rights for African Americans, and he started a program to modernize the US Navy. President Garfield was also concerned about the high illiteracy rate among African Americans. He tried to establish a universal education system funded by the US Government.”
“He never got that, did he?” responded Harry.
“No” I answered, “But he tried to make it happen.”
Harry smirked “Garfield was a gold standard hard currency guy and was opposed to printing paper dollars. He was raised on an Ohio farm, and worked his way through college. He became a minister, then a lawyer, and then finally decided to go into politics.  He was a successful Union General in the Civil war and served seven terms as a Congressman.”
I shook my head. Despite his joking around, it was evident that my friend Harry knew his history.
“He was assassinated by a disappointed office seeker,” continued Harry. “ A man named Charles Guiteau shot Garfield in the back at the Baltimore and Potomac passenger Terminal. The guy was angry because Garfield didn’t appoint him Council to France. The man was nuts. Guiteau shot Garfield, turned around and then walked out of the train station to a cab that he had waiting for him.
At that time Presidents didn’t have Secret Service Protection. The President didn’t have any bodyguards. A policeman, who witnessed the shooting, apprehended Guiteau. The policeman was so excited to have caught the president’s assassin that he didn’t even bother to take Guiteau’s gun away from him until they got to the police station.“
I looked at Harry, “So Guiteau killed Garfield?”
Harry smiled. “Not exactly. Guiteau was broke and half crazy.  He borrowed $15 and purchased an ivory handled, 44 caliber Webley revolver. He wanted a nice looking gun, because he was sure that he would be remembered in the history books and that his weapon would find its way to a museum. He shot the President twice. One bullet grazed the President’s shoulder and the other lodged itself in his spine.
They carried the President back to the White House and didn’t think he would last the night. Garfield surprised all of them and rallied the next day.”
Harry shook his hand at me, “Doctors in those days didn’t believe in what used to be called ‘the Lister method.’ They didn’t practice cleanliness. It was thought that the more experienced a doctor was the more blood he should have on his surgical clothes. Garfield lived a number of days after being shot. He died, not from any bullets, but from infections caused by unsanitary medical practices. Even Guiteau commented at his trial that he didn’t kill the President, the Presidents doctors killed him.”
“What happened to Guiteau?” I asked.
“Oh, they hung him,” said Harry.
About this time my wife walked into the room.
“What are you guys talking about?”
“We were discussing Garfield,” I answered.
“Oh,” remarked my wife. “There’s a special about him on TV.”
“There is? History channel?”
“No, the Cartoon Channel,” laughed my wife.
In my house, it would appear that everyone thinks of themselves as a comedian, including my wife. I said nothing more, and the rest is history.

The Origin of Hanukkah

I love the Christmas Holiday season. I like the bright lights, the smell of evergreens and the faces of happy children. Sometimes I forget that there are other celebrations that happen around this same time of year. Those being: Bodhi Day (Buddha’s Enlightenment), the Muslim fast of Ashura, the new African American Kwanzaa celebration, and most particularly Hanukkah.
Hanukkah used to be a minor secular Jewish celebration, but thanks to the commercial nature of Christmas, it now has become a prominent Jewish Holiday.
The story behind Hanukkah goes back well over two millennia to the third century BC.
In 334 BC, Alexander defeated the Persian Armies of Darius III and the Persian Empire ceased to exist. Everything that belonged to Darius now belonged to Alexander, including the Jews.
According to Max I. Dimont’s book “Jews, God and History.
For some unexplained reason, the hot-tempered Jews did not fight Alexander… The High Priest of Jerusalem headed a formal procession to welcome Alexander. The Macedonian king took an instant liking to these “fierce barbarians” who, to his great astonishment, carried no visible gods with them. He granted them internal political and religious freedom, an act that made him the “patron saint” of the Jews.
The Jews loved everything Greek. They adopted the language, the culture and with the exception of the religion, tried to become more Greek than the Greeks themselves.
Unfortunately, things do have a way of changing. Alexander died and if there is one thing that the old Greeks liked to do, it was fight. If the Greeks couldn’t fight other people, they’d fight each other. His three generals split the empire. Antigonus grabbed Greece, Seleucus took Asia Minor and Syria and Ptolemy grabbed Egypt and what used to be Judea.
For 125 years the Seleucids and Ptolemys fought over the control of the Jews land and finally the Seleucid king Antiochus III, succeeded in wresting Israel/Judea away from the Ptolemys.
Antiochus III died and his son Antiochus Epiphanies took the throne. Young Antiochus had big plans. He dreamed of becoming another Alexander, and the first thing he wanted to do was make the Jews even more Greek. He, with the help of Hellenic Jews, appointed a High Priest named Jason, who decided it was a good time to change some of their religious practices. Jason brought Greek statues into the Temple, had his priests wear Grecian robes and perform Greek cultic rites. According to Dimont’s book: Greek games performed by naked Jewish boys became a common spectacle in the temple courtyards. This did not sit well with the majority of the Jewish people and they revolted. They called themselves the Hasideans.
The first Hasidean revolt was quickly put down, but Antiochus overreacted. He senselessly slaughtered 10,000 residents (including Jews friendly to his cause). He installed new statues of Greek Gods in the Temple. He slaughtered pigs in the temple and permeated the Holy of Holies with their blood.
Mattathias, an old rural Jewish priest, set off a second rebellion in the small town of Modiin. A Greek official tried to get him to perform a pagan sacrifice. The old man refused and killed the official. People rallied around Mattathias and this lit the spark for a second rebellion.
Antiochus immediately tried to put this rebellion down, but instead of succeeding saw his armies totally destroyed. Mattathias and his five sons became known as the Maccabees (Hebrew for Hammer) because of the hammer like gorilla tactics that they used against the Greek armies.
In 164 BC, the army of the Maccabees recaptured Jerusalem. The temple was cleansed and rededicated back to God. In order to purify the temple, the priests needed to burn ritual oil for eight days. They discovered that they only had a single days supply of oil, they lit the oil and it miraculously lasted for all 8 days.
Today, during Hanukkah Jews light one candle each night for 8 nights on a special Menorah. They celebrate by giving gifts, eating fried foods, singing songs and playing games.
I love the holiday season. It is a bright time of joy and a time of celebration.
Both Jews and Christians have things bright and cheerful, to share this time of year.
Wishing everyone, a very, very happy holiday season.

Thanksgiving Traditions

I love Thanksgiving. I love the smell of turkey, the taste of yams and pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving is a wonderful time and giving thanks is a good practice for us all. Thanksgiving is one of the six major holidays in the USA and I love celebrating it.
We all know, or think we know the story of the first Thanksgiving feast. We have all heard or read about it in school. The Plymouth Colony settlers were having a rough time, almost half died during their first winter. That spring the survivors were helped by Squanto (a native American and former English slave) to plant food and survive. In fall they had a successful harvest and declared a time for Thanksgiving. They invited neighboring Native American tribes to join them in their celebration and they had a wonderful time. My understanding is that the Native Americans actually supplied most of the food. The food consisted of fish, clams, lobster, mussels, venison, berries, fruit, pumpkin, squash, onions, maize, beans, grains, ducks, geese, swans and possibly wild turkey.  I say “possibly” because history gives no specific mention of wild turkey during this feast. Pilgrims called all wild fowl “turkey.” America’s first Thanksgiving celebration lasted three days. Our families Thanksgiving celebration lasts about four days, which is about how long turkey leftovers seem to last in our house.
Thanksgiving is not just an American tradition. A day of thanksgiving is celebrated in Canada, Germany, Liberia, Norfolk Island, the Netherlands, and a number of Asian countries.
Our Canadian neighbors celebrate Thanksgiving on the 2nd Monday of October (the same day as our Columbus Day celebration). According to the Wikipedia, the origins of Canadian Thanksgiving predate our US Thanksgiving. Their Thanksgiving can be traced to an explorer Martin Frobisher (sounds like a made up name). Frobisher was trying to find a northern passageway to the Pacific. He never found a passageway, but he did find his way back home. In 1578, Frobisher held a formal ceremony in Newfoundland to give thanks for surviving the cold and making it back in one piece and not ending up like Henry Hudson or other less fortunate explorers. Canadian Thanksgiving can also be traced to early French settlers in the 17th century who loved to throw harvest parties. Later on Irish, Scottish and German immigrants would also add their own traditions. In Wikipedia, it also says the US aspects of Thanksgiving (such as turkey) were incorporated when British loyalists began to flee from the US to Canada during the American Revolution.
The Jews have celebrated Thanksgiving for about 3000 years. They call their Thanksgiving Sukkoth. A Sukkoth is a three-sided hut or tabernacle that the Jews allegedly took with them during their 40 years in the wilderness. Sukkoth is their harvest festival known as the Feast of Tabernacles. This festival lasts for about eight or nine days, (A much longer span of time than my turkey leftovers last). During this time the Jews gave thanks to God for all their many blessings.
The Ancient Greeks had a harvest festival called Thesmosphoria in honor of their God of Agriculture. They would hold a feast and have a fun celebration.
The Romans celebrated Cerelia, dedicated to Ceres, their Goddess of Grain. It was held in October each year, with feasts, music, parades, and games as a celebration of thanksgiving for their harvest.
In Ancient Egypt harvest took place in spring. The Egyptians celebrated their festival in honor of their God of vegetation and fertility. They would also celebrate with feasting, music, dancing and sports.
We too celebrate with sports and that is why football on Thanksgiving Day is an integral part of our American culture.
Giving thanks is a good practice for us all. Thanksgiving is a wonderful time to give thanks to our creator, not just for harvest but also for the blessings that we as Americans enjoy.
I love Thanksgiving and I wish you all a good and happy Thanksgiving as well.

Golden Dollars

Every time I get paid, I like to go to the bank and get a roll or two of dollar coins.
The people at the bank expect to see me. They usually have coins waiting.
“What do we have here?” I asked. “Andrew Johnson? Cool!”
The coins are fun to have, and fun to spend. They are a bit larger than a quarter and are gold in color.
Small dollar coins have been around since 1979 when the US issued the Susan B. Anthony Dollar. The Susan B. Anthony coins were silver in color and many people confused them with a quarter. They weren’t very popular.
The Sacajawea dollar was first minted in 2000 and is still being minted. They are not silver but gold in color, making them much easier to differentiate from a quarter. The US has minted approximately 1 billion Sacajawea coins since 2000, but not many people ever see them. I am not sure why. My guess is that collectors may be hoarding the coins.
Since 2007, the mint has been issuing presidential dollar coins starting with George Washington. They issue a new president every three months.
I love the presidential coins. I try to always have some in my pocket. I use them in vending machines, parking meters; I give them away as tips and use them to purchase small items in stores. People always seem to brighten when I hand them one. Sometimes people don’t even realize that these small dollar coins are still in circulation.
I bought a cup of coffee the other day and paid my $2.00 bill with four golden Andrew Johnson dollars.
“What’s this?” The waitress asked.
“They’re golden dollars.” I answered.
The waitress brightened. “Really? My daughter would love to have them.”
She reached into her apron, dug into her tip money and pulled out a couple of her own dollars to replace the golden dollars that would normally have ended up in the cash register.
I saw this as an opportunity to fill her in on trivial facts about this President.
“Andrew Johnson was the 17th President of the United States.” I burbled.
“He is listed as a Democrat. He actually ran with Lincoln, not as a Democrat but as a member of the Union Party (Lincoln also ran as a Union Party Candidate instead of a Republican).
Johnson came from a very poor family. When he was very young his mother bound him to a tailor in South Carolina. As a tailor’s apprentice, he was essentially a slave. Johnson stayed as an apprentice until he was 16 or 17. In order to get out of his “apprenticeship,” he had to run away to his brother’s home in Greenville Tennessee.
The Tailor who held his contract, tried to use legal means to get him back, but couldn’t. After being in Tennessee for a year he married the 16-year-old daughter of a shoemaker. Up until this time Johnson was self taught and basically illiterate. His new wife taught him arithmetic, basic algebra and how to write.
I could see that the waitress had other things to do, so I left her with this parting shot: “President Johnson was the first President ever to be impeached. He was saved only by one vote. He was a good man, and had a good heart, but he was not a very successful President.”
The US mint would like us all to use dollar coins, because they believe that these coins will save our nation money. Paper dollars last less than thirty months. Dollar coins are expected to last thirty years or more. The US mint estimates that they can save the American taxpayer $522 million a year if they would be willing to spend and use dollar coins.
I like the dollar coins. I use them, I learn from them and I have fun with them.
How about you?  They cost only a dollar and you can always get your money back.
Bill Eagle and his beautiful wife, Claudia, live in St. Helens Oregon and enjoy a funny view on life most days. He loves comments! Visit online or send to:
editor@valleybugler.com

Eagle’s Eye: Time and the Paranormal

I discovered something. The longer that a person lives, the quicker time seems to pass. I remember when I was a little kid, and my mother would tell me that I had an hour to play with my friends. An hour was such a long time. It appears now that hours take very little time to pass. My concept of time seems to be accelerating. Days as well as hours pass much more quickly than they did when I was young.
I do have some solutions. I will on occasion sit in the dentist’s chair, wait in long lines for events, or be in a hurry to get somewhere important. Time will either stop, or at least slow down for me. This sort of thing is good for a person my age; it helps me to feel that I have somehow extended my time on earth.
My wife seems to think that I have memory problems.
“Where’s the remote control?” I asked.
My wife replied, “It’s probably right where you left it.”
“No it’s not! I’ve looked everywhere and it isn’t anywhere.”
My wife walked into the living room, walked over to our television and reached for the remote control. It was sitting in plain sight on top of the TV.
I looked at my wife intensely. “Claudia, I never put it there. I think that we might have a ghost.”
She laughed.
She may have laughed at me, but I have noticed a number of mysterious events happening to both my wife and myself.
“Bill have you seen the book that I was reading?”
“What happened to my Scissors?”
“Where’s my checkbook?”
“My coffee cup’s gone?”
“My hat’s gone! Where is it? Did you put it somewhere?”
All these events seem to border on the supernatural. I firmly believe that we might have a poltergeist in our house.
My wife, on the other hand, seems to think that we are just careless. I think that this phenomenon is much more serious than she thinks it is. I have mentioned some of these occurrences to other people, including my friend Harry who seems to have also experienced some of these paranormal events. Think about it, have you had things disappear on you and then reappear in places where you have already looked? Instead of blaming yourselves, you need to report these phenomenal occurrences to reputable psychic investigators.
I live in St. Helens Oregon, about thirty miles from Longview Washington. We do much of our shopping in the Longview-Kelso area. We travel to “The big City” once or twice every month, whether we need to or not.
Claudia and I were driving along the river to Longview. We were busy conversing with each other. We passed through Columbia City, Deer Island, and shortly found ourselves coasting down the hill to Rainier. I turned to my wife and commented, “Funny, I don’t remember passing Goble?”
My wife looked blankly at me and said, “Neither do I…?”
I gripped my steering wheel as we headed across the Longview-Rainier Bridge. “Claudia do you think that Goble is still there or has it disappeared into some other strange dimension? I think that we may have entered a worm hole, we may have just experienced a stitch in time.”
My wife just laughed.
This is not the only time that something like this has happened to us. I recall Castle Rock disappearing a couple of times when we were on our way to Tacoma. Fortunately Castle Rock reappeared on our return trip. Come to think of it, so did Goble.
Our area is full of paranormal phenomena. You readers should be aware of this and be on guard lest you too find yourself transported to some other dimension.
Time is flexible; paranormal events do occur. Be on guard, we live in a world filled with things, most strange.
Bill Eagle and his beautiful wife, Claudia, live in St. Helens Oregon and enjoy a funny view on life most days. He loves comments!

Eagles Eye – Lost cat

My wife and I are in the sunset of our lives. It’s a time when we should be relaxing and enjoying ourselves. For some reason, we seldom get much of a chance to relax. Exciting things always seem to happen to us, even when nothing exciting is happening.
It was early Tuesday Morning; the hands on our Grandfather clock had passed beyond the midnight hour.  Claudia and I had stayed up watching a late movie.
Claudia looked at me and said. “Bill we haven’t fed our cat.”
Our cat is a really nice animal. He’s good in many ways but lacks street smarts. Consequently Claudia has been very reluctant to let him go outside. My wife observed that he liked to lie in the middle of the road and watch cars drive around him. It would appear that he had no fear of cars.
Claudia was in the midst of cat food preparation when she suddenly gave out a yell.  Our neighbors Malamute pup was at our back door. He was a delightful dog, almost full grown. My guess is that he weighed a little over 100 pounds. He loved us. Evidently he had again broken through our fence.
“What will we do?” yelled Claudia. “The neighbors are probably asleep.”
“Don’t worry” I replied. “I’ll return this silly dog to his owners. I’ll make sure that they aren’t asleep.”
I grabbed a leash, and I put it around the dog’s neck and walked with him to my sleepy neighbors home.
On my return, I discovered Claudia standing out in the street with a flashlight.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Our cat got out when you opened the door to get the dog,” she growled.
“Are you sure?”  I asked.
My wife glared at me. “Yes, I’m sure, he isn’t anywhere in the house.” I said a bad word.
I rummaged around for another flashlight and joined my wife on her cat quest. We went up and down the street calling “kitty, kitty, kitty.”  We peeked over fences and looked into bushes and back yards. My guess was that it was well after 2:00 AM. I was a bit nervous about our street prowling. I half expected a neighbor to call the police and complain about the noise that we were making.
Evidently my neighbors were used to Eagle family eccentricities and no complaints were filed.
We still had no cat. No cat at all. Claudia was close to tears. She was sure that our cat would soon be road kill and that I would be retrieving a flattened animal with a scoop shovel.
It was cold; in fact it was freezing outside. My nose and hands started to feel numb.
I said, “Claudia, don’t worry, that silly cat will be at our door tomorrow expecting to be fed. It’s close to three and I’m tired, let’s go to bed.”
“My poor cat” moaned my wife.
I walked her home; she was tired, cold and very sad. Claudia was sure that our beloved pet was no more for this world, and she was already starting the grieving process.
As we walked up our driveway to our house, Claudia saw what appeared to be a shadow, move by our garage window.
“What’s that?”,  she asked.
I brightened “It’s our cat. He never left the garage.”
Evidently, our cat took a look at the Malamute trying to get into our house and made a beeline for the safety of our garage. He might not be street smart when it comes to cars, but he was not stupid when it involved meeting up with big dogs. Not stupid at all. Claudia was happy, our cat was hungry, and I decided that it was time for me to go to bed.
Bill loves to hear what readers have to say about his stories. Do you have any comments? Enter yours online at www.FaceBook.com or at our web site www.Valleybugler.com and you will be entered to win $100 in cash, as well as other prizes! Send to: editor@valleybugler.com

Eagle’s Eye – The Power of Words

My wife (Claudia) very carefully dressed herself. Her makeup was applied in a meticulous manner with a fine brush. She brushed her hair numerous times, all the while making sure that each hair was in place. Claudia selected a pair of pants with a matching jacket. She dressed in a gingerly manner so that no wrinkles would appear on her carefully ironed selections. Claudia held her jacket up to the light to make sure that no lint or animal hairs adhered to it. She examined her blouse as she buttoned it up and then slipped on a carefully matched, carefully ironed jacket. Finally she selected a hat. She stood in front of her mirror and using two hands set it upon her head.
I impatiently stood at the foot of our stairs waiting as she descended dressed in her finery.
Claudia pursed her lips “Do I look okay?”
I responded with “Yeh, fine.”
Evidently, that was the wrong thing for me to say.
“Is there something wrong with how I’m dressed?”
“No, no. You look fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t sound very convincing.”
All that I would have had to say was “Hey beautiful, you look great!”  All of the world would have been different, but by my saying “Yeh, fine;” I ended up planting the seeds of doubt in her mind.
It’s amazing, how a person can say one thing, but with different words convey different thoughts.
The other day, I saw a very touching and meaningful video. It was less than two minutes long; I think that it was shot at a shopping area in either Liverpool, or Glasgow.
A blind man sat in front of the steps of a public building. A flat cardboard extended from beneath him and out beyond his feet. Behind him someone had fashioned a crude cardboard sign that read: “I’m blind. Please help.”
A tin can sat on the cardboard in front of him.
Passerby’s would glance at the man and fling an occasional coin into his tin can. No one appeared to pay him much attention.
A young well-dressed woman approached. She glanced at the man as she walked by. She walked several yards and then all at once stopped. She turned around and walked back to where the blind man sat.
The man reached out and touched her shoes.
The woman reached over and took the blind man’s sign and started writing something on its back.
She set the sign down and continued walking finally disappearing into the crowd.
Soon, coins started cascading into the blind man’s tin can. People would stop, read the mans sign and reach into their pockets and their wallets and place money into the can that sat in front of him.
Later on in the day, the young well-dressed woman returned. Once again she stood in front of him and once again, he reached over and touched her shoes.
“What did you do to me sign?” he asked.
She responded “I wrote the same, but different words.”
“Thank you!” said the blind man.
What did the sign say?  The sign read: “It’s a beautiful day, but I can’t see it.”
The video concluded with “Change your words and change your world.”
Proverbs 15:1 reads “A kind answer soothes angry feelings…” (Contemporary English Version),
Words do have power, they can sooth, they can heal, they can help and they can inspire. We just need to be careful, how we use them.
The video that I mentioned can be viewed on YouTube: You can go to it by doing a search for “The Power of Words.”
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Eagle’s Eye – Longview Kiwanis’s 85th Anniversary

In April, my wife and I had the opportunity to attend the 85th Anniversary celebration for the Kiwanis Club of Longview. It was a big event, and there were a number of people that I recognized from different Kiwanis clubs.
My wife and I found a table. We visited with people and enjoyed a great meal.
Longview President, Charles Angelico opened the meeting, and made a number of formal introductions. Charles mentioned that the City of Longview honored the club by proclaiming the day as “Kiwanis Day.”
President Charles then introduced club historian Holly Bishop. Holly shared numerous facts about his club. The Kiwanis club of Kelso started the Longview Club in April 1926.  Bishop, a former band member related: “We used to have a marching band. Our club organized the first Longview Community band and they were good. The band became regular winners at the Portland Rose festival.”
From Holly, I learned that the Longview Kiwanis club helped start Lower Columbia College. In addition to the college they started the Cities Annual Kids Day parade. They also started bus service for handicapped and senior citizens. In addition to a band, they used to sponsor an annual talent contest. According to Bishop this contest used to be one of the Communities top entertainment events.
The club now purchases police dogs for the city, they sponsor a Key club at R.A. Long High, and they sponsor several High School scholarships. They have built parks, playgrounds and camps and have done much for the children and adults in their local community.
Kiwanis International President Sylvestor Neal was the celebrations Keynote speaker.
Sylvestor is not a big man, but he has a big smile, and the ability to radiate love wherever he goes.
Sylvestor spoke about the fifth object of Kiwanis; “Altruistic Service.” “Altruism is caring about others. It is one of the reasons why Kiwanis exists.”
He told everyone a short parable about an airplane that crashed in Alaska. The weather was below freezing and the survivors managed to start a small fire. They foraged for more wood to keep the fire burning and managed to each carry back a log.
The survivors looked across the fire and some of their thoughts went “Why should I share my log and warm that guy? I don’t like him.” All the people had reasons not to share their logs. Some didn’t like a co-passenger’s religion, others objected to another person’s color or politics.  It didn’t matter their reason, the only thing that mattered was that they disliked each other enough so that they weren’t about to give up their logs.
The end result was that they all froze to death.
They didn’t die of the cold; they died because they were all too hard hearted to share with each other.
Kiwanis believes in altruistic service. They believe in sharing their skills, their talents and their love with others. They know that they can do things together that they cannot do by ourselves.
Sylvester touched all of our hearts with his message.
My wife and I were glad that we attended Longview Kiwanis’s 85th Anniversary celebration. I felt privileged and proud to be a part of an organization that really cares for people.
Longview Kiwanis is looking for new members and if you are interested.
Why don’t you have lunch with them? They meet at JT’s Steak and Fishhouse 1203 14th Ave at 1:00 PM every Thursday. They would welcome your visit and if you visit, you might even want to stay…
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Eagle’s Eye – Debit Card

It was a Saturday and the phone rang. The caller I.D. read “Toll Free.”  A radio was playing in the background and I was more intent on listening to it than to my telephone answering machine.
The answering machine clicked on and I pretty much expected the caller to hang up. I could hear fragments of what appeared to be a message. “This is Bank of the… Claudia’s MasterCard … Unauthorized charges…”
“What the heck?”  I turned my radio off and replayed the answering machine message.
The message was from MasterCard. It warned me that there might be unauthorized charges on my wife’s debit card.
I went on line and accessed our checking account. Sure enough there was an unauthorized charge.
I immediately called my bank.
I spoke to a man who asked: “What is your wife’s Debit card number?” I mumbled something, while my wife hunted for her card.
“Will my checking account number help?” I asked
“Yes,” the man replied. “What are the last eight of your twelve digit number?”
I looked at my wife’s checks and started to get confused. “Uhhh, the last four numbers are the check numbers, so that… lets…see?”
I started reading numbers and they were the wrong ones.
“Can I have the last four digits of the account holder’s Social Security Number?” Asked the man.
I gave him my number
“I’m sorry sir, but that isn’t the correct number.”
“Whoops. I guess we used my wife’s number for this account.’
Fortunately, I had that written down and gave it to him.
My wife, by this time, had also managed to find her debit card. I gave the man her number.
“Yes,” said the bank rep. “They attempted to charge over $700 to CVS Pharmacy in New York.”
My wife exclaimed “New York? We live in Oregon!”
“There were a total of three separate charges at that drug store.” He said.  “MasterCard stopped two of them but one charge managed to sneak through.”
My wife moaned “Does this mean that I’m going to lose my money?”
“No ma’am,” he replied. You’ll need to fill out an affidavit that we’ll mail you stating that you haven’t made any of these charges. You will have ten days to mail it back to us. I’m sure that you will be able to recover all of your money. We’ve cancelled your debit card and we’ll issue you a new one.”
What a relief.
Three weekdays went by and no affidavits appeared in the mail.
I called the manager of my bank.
She was adamant “Don’t wait for a letter, you need to come down right away. We can produce an affidavit here and you can sign it and we’ll fax it in. “
Five minutes later, my wife and I were at the bank filling out papers.
I asked: “How were these people able to get my wife’s Debit card number? Claudia hardly ever uses hers.”
The bank manager smiled: “She doesn’t have to use it. We’re dealing with organized crime. They have computer programs that generate numbers, and when one works, they stamp out a card. The card probably didn’t have Claudia’s name or our bank’s name on it. Most places don’t care. You were just lucky that the fraud division caught it.”
We were lucky. I hope that we stay lucky. My advice is to continually check your balances. If you can go on line, do so. You might be sorry if you don’t.
And your bank might not be as alert or accommodating as mine.
Pray that this sort of thing doesn’t happen to you.

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