Archive for the ‘Religion’ Category

Father Emil Joseph Kapaun.

Thursday, November 11th, 2021

Father Kapaun was born April 20, 1916 (!!!!) near Pilsen, Kansas. He graduated high school in 1930, completed his seminary education (Conception Seminary College and Kenrick Theological Seminary) in 1940 and was ordained as a priest that year.

I’m not sure what happened between 1940 and 1943, but in January of 1943, he was appointed auxiliary chaplain at the Herington Army Airfield. He was named priest there in December of 1943.

In August of 1944, he went into the US Army Chaplain School, and graduated in October. From April of 1945 to May of 1946 he served in the Burma Theater of operations.

He ministered to U.S. soldiers and local missions, sometimes traversing nearly 2,000 miles (3,200 km) a month by jeep or airplane.

He mustered out in July of 1946 and used the GI Bill to earn a MA degree in education. In September of 1948, he rejoined the Army as a chaplain at Fort Bliss.

In January 1950, Kapaun became a chaplain in the 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, often performing battle drills near Mount Fuji, Japan. On July 15, 1950, the 1st Cavalry Division and Kapaun embarked and left Tokyo Bay sailing for Korea, less than a month after North Korea had invaded South Korea.

The 1st Cavalry Division made the first amphibious landing in the Korean War on July 18, 1950. The Division was soon moved up to help slow the North Korean Korean People’s Army (KPA)’s advance until more reinforcements could arrive. The Division engaged in several skirmishes with the KPA but had to retreat each time. Kapaun and his assistant learned of a wounded soldier stranded by enemy machine gun and small arms fire during one of these retreats. Knowing that no litter bearers were available, the two braved enemy fire and saved the man’s life, for which Kapaun was awarded the Bronze Star Medal with a “V” device for valor.

Father Kapaun quickly became known for his willingness to risk his own life in order to save his men. He sometimes used the hood of his jeep as an altar on which to celebrate Mass and hear confession. [King]

The United Nations forces progressed northward but were met by a surprise intervention by the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army (PVA). The first engagement with this new enemy took place at the Battle of Unsan near Unsan, North Korea, on November 1–2, 1950. Nearly 20,000 PVA soldiers attacked Kapaun’s 8th Cavalry Regiment. Despite pleas for him to escape, he stayed behind with the 800 men of the 3rd Battalion as the rest of the regiment retreated. During the battle, he braved enemy fire and rescued nearly 40 men…

When Father Kapaun’s commanders ordered evacuation, he chose to stay.
By all accounts, Father Kapaun refused to save his own skin, dodged bullets, and gave the last rites to as many dying soldiers as he could reach. He carried one man, whose leg had been shattered by shrapnel, in his arms to safety.
During the forced eighty-mile march to a prison camp in the freezing cold, Father Kapuan shored up flagging spirits and encouraged his men to help those too wounded to walk. [King]

Father Kapuan spent seven months as a POW.

Life in the prison camp was challenging, with sometimes up to 2 dozen men dying a day from malnutrition, disease, lice, and extreme cold. Kapaun refused to give in to despair and spent himself entirely for his men. He dug latrines, mediated disputes, gave away his food and raised morale among the prisoners. He was noted among his fellow POWs as one who would steal food for the men to eat. He also stood up to communist indoctrination, smuggled dysentery drugs to the doctor, Sidney Esensten, and led the men in prayer.

Nearly half the prisoners died that first winter, from cold, starvation, lice infestations. Given such conditions, Father Kapaun decided to pray to Saint Dismas, the good thief, and then would sneak extra rations for his men. He offered freezing prisoners his own clothes, bathed their wounds, exhorted them to keep going.
The guards ridiculed his faith. At night he slipped into huts to lead prisoners in prayer and administer the sacraments. “Just for a moment,” one said, “he could turn a mud hut into a cathedral.” [King]

Unfortunately, his own health failed. He came down with dysentery and pneumonia. He had a blood clot in one leg, and was malnourished. He led a forbidden Easter service on March 25, 1951 (“holding up a small crucifix he had fashioned from sticks”) but got progressively sicker.

He was so weak the prison guards took him to a place in the Pyoktong camp they called the “hospital,” where he died of malnutrition and pneumonia on May 23, 1951.

It is said that the “hospital” was really a “death house” and that the guards did not give him food or water.

He was posthumously awarded the Legion of Merit by the U.S. Army for exceptionally meritorious conduct as a prisoner of war, as well as the Purple Heart.

He had also been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross (for the rescue of those 40 men during the Battle of Unsan) but on April 11, 2013, that was upgraded to the Medal of Honor. His citation:

Chaplain Emil J. Kapaun, while assigned to Headquarters Company, 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism, patriotism, and selfless service between Nov. 1-2, 1950. During the Battle of Unsan, Kapaun was serving with the 3rd Battalion of the 8th Cavalry Regiment. As Chinese Communist forces encircled the battalion, Kapaun moved fearlessly from foxhole to foxhole under direct enemy fire in order to provide comfort and reassurance to the outnumbered Soldiers. He repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire to recover wounded men, dragging them to safety. When he couldn’t drag them, he dug shallow trenches to shield them from enemy fire. As Chinese forces closed in, Kapaun rejected several chances to escape, instead volunteering to stay behind and care for the wounded. He was taken as a prisoner of war by Chinese forces on Nov. 2, 1950.
After he was captured, Kapaun and other prisoners were marched for several days northward toward prisoner-of-war camps. During the march Kapaun led by example in caring for injured Soldiers, refusing to take a break from carrying the stretchers of the wounded while encouraging others to do their part.
Once inside the dismal prison camps, Kapaun risked his life by sneaking around the camp after dark, foraging for food, caring for the sick, and encouraging his fellow Soldiers to sustain their faith and their humanity. On at least one occasion, he was brutally punished for his disobedience, being forced to sit outside in subzero weather without any garments. When the Chinese instituted a mandatory re-education program, Kapaun patiently and politely rejected every theory put forth by the instructors. Later, Kapaun openly flouted his captors by conducting a sunrise service on Easter morning, 1951.
When Kapaun began to suffer from the physical toll of his captivity, the Chinese transferred him to a filthy, unheated hospital where he died alone. As he was being carried to the hospital, he asked God’s forgiveness for his captors, and made his fellow prisoners promise to keep their faith. Chaplain Kapaun died in captivity on May 23, 1951.
Chaplain Emil J. Kapaun repeatedly risked his own life to save the lives of hundreds of fellow Americans. His extraordinary courage, faith and leadership inspired thousands of prisoners to survive hellish conditions, resist enemy indoctrination, and retain their faith in God and country. His actions reflect the utmost credit upon him, the 1st Cavalry Division, and the United States Army.

Father Kapaun’s remains were among a group of unidentified bodies that were returned to the US after the Korean Armistice Agreement. They were originally buried in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Hawaii, but as part of the ongoing efforts to identify unknown soldiers from the Korean War, they were disinterred. His remains were identified in March of this year, and on September 25, they were returned to his family. They are currently interred at Wichita’s Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

Pope John Paul II named Father Kapaun a Servant of God in 1993. From what I can tell, the case for Father Kapaun’s sainthood is currently under consideration by the Congregation for the Causes of Saints. There are several miracles attributed to him that are currently under investigation, and I can see a very strong case that he was a martyr.

He was one of twelve chaplains to die in Korea. Four U.S. Army chaplains were taken prisoner in 1950, all of whom died while in captivity.

Sources:

King, Heather. “‘Credible Witnesses: Servant of God Emil Kapaun.’” Magnificat, Nov. 2021.

“Medal of Honor Recipient Chaplain (Capt.) Emil J. Kapaun | the United States Army.” Www.army.mil, www.army.mil/medalofhonor/kapaun/. Accessed 7 Nov. 2021.

Wikipedia Contributors. “Emil Kapaun.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 2 May 2019, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emil_Kapaun. Accessed 20 June 2019.

(Previously. Previously. Previously.)

Obit watch: May 9, 2021.

Sunday, May 9th, 2021

Tawny Kitaen, 80s figure.

With her flowing red hair and acrobatic moves, Ms. Kitaen appeared in videos for bands like Whitesnake and Ratt, coming across as both sultry and playful. She famously danced on the hood of a white Jaguar in the music video for Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” and graced the cover of Ratt’s 1984 album, “Out of the Cellar.”

She once described working with Paula Abdul, who was a choreographer at the time, on the set of one video.
As Ms. Kitaen recalled, Ms. Abdul asked her what she could do, and Ms. Kitaen showed Ms. Abdul some of her moves. Ms. Abdul then turned to the director, Marty Callner, and said, “She’s got this and doesn’t need me.” And then, Ms. Kitaen said, she left.
“That was the greatest compliment,” she said. “So I got on the cars and Marty would say, ‘Action,’ and I’d do whatever I felt like doing.”

She married David Coverdale, the frontman of Whitesnake, in 1989. The couple divorced two years later. In 1997, she married Chuck Finley, a pitcher with the Anaheim Angels (now the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim). They had two daughters, Wynter and Raine. The couple divorced in 2002.

Tawny Finley, in a declaration to the Orange County Superior Court, claimed Finley used steroids among other drugs. She also claimed he bragged about being able to circumvent MLB’s testing policy. When told of his wife’s accusations, which also included heavy marijuana use and alcohol abuse, Finley replied: “I can’t believe she left out the cross-dressing.”

Ed Ward, music critic. He wrote for “Crawdaddy” and “Rolling Stone”:

Mr. Ward’s review of the Beatles’ “Abbey Road” (1969) in Rolling Stone demonstrated his tough side: He called “Sun King” the album’s “biggest bomb” and its second side “a disaster.”
“They’ve been shucking us a lot lately and it’s a shame because they don’t have to,” he wrote. “Surely they have enough talent and intelligence to do better than this. Or do they?”

Mr. Ward was fired from Rolling Stone after a few months (he didn’t get along with Jann Wenner, the publisher), then became the West Coast correspondent for the rock magazine Creem, a post he held for most of the 1970s. He left in 1979 to write about the thriving music scene in Austin as a music critic at The American-Statesman.
“Ed brought a reputation to Austin as an unflinching critic — Rolling Stone had a lot of clout — and he was not diplomatic in his writing,” said his friend and fellow writer Joe Nick Patoski, who described Mr. Ward as cantankerous and difficult. “Early on, there was a reaction to some of the things he wrote and it started a ‘Dump Ed Ward’ movement that had bumper stickers and T shirts.”

Over the next decade, Mr. Ward was a music and food critic (sometimes, while he was still at The American-Statesman, under the pseudonym Petaluma Pete) for the alternative weekly The Austin Chronicle; one of three authors of “Rock of Ages: The Rolling Stone History of Rock & Roll” (1986), in which he focused on the 1950s; and, in 1987, one of several founders of the South by Southwest music, film and technology festival in Austin.

He returned to Austin in 2013 and set to work on “The History of Rock & Roll, Volume 1: 1920-1963,” which was published in 2016. A second volume, taking the music’s history up to 1977, was published in 2019. But his publisher declined to publish a third one because the second book’s sales had not been as good the first one’s.

Ernest Angley, televangelist. Or, as I liked to call him, “the man who took over Rex Humbard’s soup kitchen“.

These last two by way of Lawrence: George Jung, cocaine smuggler.

Japanese composer Shunsuke Kikuchi. Among his credits: “Dragon Ball”, “Dragon Ball Z”, and several “Gamera” films.

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 402

Friday, May 7th, 2021

Two videos on unrelated topics today. One short-ish, one admittedly long.

Short-ish: This is an episode of the old “True Adventure” TV show called…”Serpent Cult”, about snake handling religion in Kentucky. I possibly could have put this in last week’s travel entry, but it didn’t feel right there.

I actually kind of like the host’s introduction. When was the last time you heard someone on TV say:

  • I was brought up religious.
  • I believe in people’s right to worship as they please.
  • I have a point of view on this, but I’m not going to force it on anybody else.

Long (about 70 minutes): “Raid on the Northfield Bank: The James-Younger Gang Meets Its Match”.

I wanted to link this for two reasons:

1. There’s a pretty good movie that the Saturday Night Movie Group watched not too long ago: “The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid”, which you can find on YouTube with a carefully crafted search or on Amazon (affiliate link). I don’t believe it is exactly historically accurate, but…

2. Massad Ayoob in “American Handgunner” actually devoted an “Ayoob Files” column to the “Great Northfield, Minnesota Bank Robbery”, concentrating on the role of armed citizens.

(I have also read, and can recommend, the book Ayoob cites: Shot All to Hell by Mark Lee Gardner. (Affiliate link.))

“What you gonna do when you get out of jail?…” part 399

Tuesday, May 4th, 2021

And now for something completely different.

“The Lumberman”, a 1971 film from the good folks at Encyclopedia Brittanica. It was part of a series called “Our Changing Way of Life”.

Bonus #1: When was the last time you thought about rice? For me, it was last night. But I am somewhat food obsessed.

Phil Robertson says “America Doesn’t Know How to Cook Rice Anymore”.

In addition to Romans 12:13, I am also reminded of Luke 24:42, where the risen Jesus appears to the apostles and asks, “Hey, you guys got any food up in here?” ‘Cause you never know when Jesus might show up, and who wants to be placing an order from Domino’s while Jesus is hanging around?

(If it comes to that, though, I have to warn you: the Bible is very clear that just introducing the delivery guy to Jesus is no substitute for a tip. You still need to tip your delivery driver, and I’d suggest 25% under normal circumstances. Do you really want Jesus to think you’re a cheapskate?)

(Also, if it comes to that: Jesus likes the meat lover’s pizza, or whatever your local equivalent is. Acts 10:15: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.”)

Walter White Alton Brown discusses his “fast and foolproof” method for rice cooking.

Bonus #2: Okay, the quality on this isn’t great, but it is short. And this is the “Month of Mayberry” according to MeTV. Don Knotts advertising the Dodge Tradesman van.

Obit watch: April 28, 2021.

Wednesday, April 28th, 2021

Michael Collins, Apollo 11 astronaut.

NASA memorial page.

When the lunar module Eagle, descending from Columbia, touched down on the moon on July 20, 1969, Colonel Collins lost contact with his crewmates and with NASA, his line of communication blocked as he passed over the moon’s far side. It was a blackout that would occur during a portion of each orbit he would make.
“I am alone now, truly alone, and absolutely isolated from any known life,” he wrote in recreating his thoughts for his 1974 memoir, “Carrying the Fire.”
“If a count were taken, the score would be three billion plus two over on the other side of the moon, and one plus God only knows what on this side,” he added. “I like the feeling. Outside my window I can see stars — and that is all. Where I know the moon to be, there is simply a black void.”

Ole Anthony, one of those interesting characters you may never have heard of.

Mr. Anthony was trained in electronics, and in 1958 he was sent to an island in the South Pacific, where he was supposed to watch a small nuclear test many miles away. But the explosion was much larger than expected, and the radiation left him with scores of knobby tumors throughout his body.
He left the military in 1959 and took a job with Teledyne, a defense contractor. In a 2004 profile in The New Yorker, he told the journalist Burkhard Bilger that he had continued his work for the Air Force, sneaking behind the iron and bamboo curtains to install long-range sensors to detect Chinese and Soviet nuclear tests, though a later investigation by The Dallas Observer, a weekly newspaper, called that claim into question.

He went on to become active in Republican politics and became rich. Then in 1972, he found Jesus, but with a twist: he built his own religious community and specialized in taking down scam evangelists.

He specialized in what he called garbology — rooting through dumpsters for evidence of legal or spiritual fraud by televangelists like Robert Tilton, Benny Hinn and W.V. Grant, just three of the more than 300 he went after during his nearly 35-year campaign.
He compiled the results in long reports that he fed to reporters, and he made frequent appearances on shows like “Primetime Live” and “Inside Edition.” His work was largely responsible for the implosion of Mr. Tilton’s $80 million-a-year empire and Mr. Grant’s 1996 imprisonment for tax evasion. In 2007, he worked with the U.S. Senate Finance Committee in its own investigation into televangelists.

At first, Mr. Anthony tried to gather his flock among the Republicans and Rotarians of wealthy Dallas. But his abrasive style — he talked about his sex life in Bible study and was permanently barred from Pat Robertson’s “700 Club” TV show — turned off the well-to-do.
Mr. Anthony didn’t seem to mind. With no religious training, he was teaching himself theology, and he became obsessed with the austere mysticism and doctrinal fluidity of first-century Christianity. He incorporated Jewish practices into Trinity’s evolving creed: The group celebrated Passover and insisted on having a minyan (at least 10 people) for Bible study.
As word about Trinity got around, it began to attract disciples from the margins of Dallas society: addicts and ex-hippies, disaffected students and people who otherwise found themselves at a dead end — as well as the occasional curious blow in.

I cannot tell a lie: “permanently banned from the ‘700 Club'” is what hooked me. (And “often obscenity-laced, sometimes violent Bible study sessions”. And “a Trinity member who, like Mr. Anthony, had taken a vow of poverty before acquiring a private investigator’s license”.)

Among those “margins of Dallas society” he attracted: Joe Bob Briggs.

Noted: DEFCON is holding an online memorial for Dan Kaminsky on 2021/05/02 at 12 PM PDT. Link to the Discord is at the top of the DEFCON page.

Happy Easter!

Sunday, April 4th, 2021

404 – body not found.

Obit watch: October 22nd, 2020.

Thursday, October 22nd, 2020

It is going to be one of those two obit watches days, for reasons.

Marge Champion, of Marge and Gower Champion fame. She was 101.

Ms. Champion was a child of Hollywood, the daughter of a dance coach who taught her ballet, tap and the twirls, kicks and glorious sweeps of the ballroom. She performed at the Hollywood Bowl as a girl and as a teenager was a model for three Walt Disney animated features, her graceful moves transposed to the heroine of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” (1937), to the Blue Fairy that gave life to the puppet in “Pinocchio” (1940) and to the hippo ballerinas tripping lightly in tutus for “Dance of the Hours” in “Fantasia” (1940).
But her career came to little until 1947, when she and Gower Champion, a childhood friend, became partners both professionally and personally. In the next few years, they were pivotal in a transition from the escapist musicals of the Depression to an exuberant new age of postwar television, successors to Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers and the first dance team to achieve national popularity through television.
The Champions did not possess the sheer magic of Astaire and Rogers or rival their stardom in Hollywood. But as television began to permeate American homes in 1949, they joined the weekly “Admiral Broadway Revue,” with Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca, on the Dumont and NBC networks, and delivered something new: narrative dances that sparkled with pantomime, satire, parody and touches of nostalgia.

As their audiences grew into the millions, Hollywood beckoned. The Champions played themselves in “Mr. Music” (1950), a light comedy with Bing Crosby about a sidetracked songwriter. In “Show Boat” (1951), with Howard Keel and Kathryn Grayson, the Champions were members of the onboard troupe of entertainers and sang as well as danced. In “Lovely to Look At” (1952), a remake of “Roberta” also with Keel and Grayson, the Champions sang and danced a memorable number, “I Won’t Dance.” In their first roles with top billing, they played married dancers loosely based on themselves in “Everything I Have Is Yours” (1952).
The Champions radiated the vitality of young America, looking even in middle age like a couple of fresh-scrubbed teenagers. They were extraordinarily handsome — she a petite brunette with the blushing cheeks and sincere brown eyes of the girl next door; he a tall, slender letterman with a crew cut and a dreamboat face. They were in constant motion, swirling, dipping, leaping. John Crosby of The New York Herald Tribune called them “light as bubbles, wildly imaginative in choreography and infinitely meticulous in execution.”

Father John Vakulskas. No, you probably never heard of him. He was an ordained Catholic priest and spent 45 years in the Sioux City Diocese.

But his major ministry was to carnival workers.

Father Vakulskas was all of 25 and an assistant pastor in Le Mars, Iowa, when he received a call from a carnival owner’s wife. Her husband was seriously ill, and her frantic first impulse was to call a priest for help — because in the days before 911, as Father Vakulskas learned, few hospitals would send help for a carnival worker.
Father Vakulskas prevailed upon a doctor in town to visit the man, as Mr. Hanschen, of the Showmen’s League, noted in a speech in 2016, when Father Vakulskas was inducted into the organization’s Hall of Fame. The diagnosis was exhaustion, ptomaine poisoning and double pneumonia. (It had been a cold and rainy summer, and the man had been working around the clock.) The doctor ordered bed rest, the man recovered, and the couple proposed that Father Vakulskas begin a ministry for carnival people.
On his retirement in 2014 from the Sioux City Diocese, Father Vakulskas moved to Florida and served six parishes there.

Often clad in robes emblazoned with circus insignia, he baptized babies in fonts sometimes improvised from buckets or tubs, officiated at marriages and heard confessions from Catholics who were, in carnival parlance, copping a plea.
You didn’t have to be Catholic, though, to be welcomed by the man everyone learned to call Father John, a big, burly priest who embraced those of all faiths and of no faith at all. His work began mostly after midnight, when the crowds had left the midway, the lights had been dimmed and the growl of generators ruffled the silence.
“I’m just a common priest,” he told The Washington Post in 1992. “It might sound schmaltzy, but I love families and the good times. But I’m there for the sorrows, too. To be accepted on the carnival fairground is a good indication that God is representative.”

Pope John Paul II — one of three popes to honor his work — appointed Father Vakulskas International Coordinator of Carnival Ministries in 1993.

And by the way:

He wrote his own obituary, and in it he noted that he was a licensed, instrument-rated airline pilot and an amateur radio operator, and that his passions included sailing, snow skiing, water skiing and cheering for the Chicago Cubs.

Quote of the day.

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2020

Apropos of nothing in particular:

Jeremiah said: “I hear the whisperings of many, “Terror on every side! Denounce! Let us denounce him!” All those who were my friends are on the watch for any misstep of mine. “Perhaps he will be trapped; then we can prevail and take our vengeance on him.” But the Lord is with me, like a mighty champion: my persecutors will stumble, they will not triumph. In their failure they will be put to utter shame, to lasting unforgettable confusion. O Lord of hosts, you who test the just, who probe mind and heart, let me witness the vengeance you take on them, for to you I have entrusted my cause. Sing to the Lord, praise the Lord, for he has rescued the life of the poor from the power of the wicked!

–Jeremiah 20:10-13

Random gun crankery, some filler.

Tuesday, June 9th, 2020

Here’s an interesting essay I’ve been meaning to bookmark for a while, and finally got around to.

Chesterton: Patron Saint of Handgunners” by Patrick Toner, from “Crisis” magazine.

The jumping off point is a Chesterton quote, talking about his preparations for his honeymoon:

It is alleged against me, and with perfect truth, that I stopped on the way to drink a glass of milk in one shop and to buy a revolver with cartridges in another. Some have seen these as singular wedding-presents for a bridegroom to give to himself, and if the bride had known less of him, I suppose she might have fancied that he was a suicide or a murderer or, worst of all, a teetotaller.

Mr. Toner uses this to discuss the idea that defense of one’s self or those one loves is an obligation. More to the point, it is an obligation one has to assume on their own, rather than delegating to other people.

If a thing is worth doing, Chesterton tells us, it’s worth doing badly. (What’s Wrong With the World, 175) Defending one’s wife is worth doing, and hence worth doing badly. But more, it must be done principally by oneself. “These things, we want a man to do for himself, even if he does them badly.” (Orthodoxy, 250) Chesterton’s examples are things like writing one’s own love letters or blowing one’s own nose, but the incident of the revolver shows that he would include the husband’s duty to protect his wife. It’s simply not a job that should be subcontracted out. Of course, we band together in communities that provide mutual support and defense, and the forces of law and order can do their best to provide the safest conditions possible, in general. Our laws and policies and so forth can and should serve to keep the pirates at bay to a great extent. (Whether they, in fact, accomplish this, or whether our policies create criminals like moisture creates mold is an extraneous question.) None of this runs contrary to my point. We ask for doctors, researchers and public health officials to try to create as high a general level of health as possible—but that doesn’t mean we ask them to wipe our noses for us.

He goes on to propose that Chesterton be named the patron saint of handgunners, though he doesn’t shy away from the two major problems with this idea:

  • Chesterton wasn’t a saint at the time. He was under consideration, but the latest information I’ve found indicates that the effort has been abandoned.
  • There already is a patron saint of handgunners. Sort of. It’s complicated.

Slightly more seriously, this month’s essay by Tiger McKee in “American Handgunner”, “3 Questions To Stay Alive“, is worthy of your consideration. I think this is especially relevant if you are a new gun owner, but I’d argue that even experienced ones could benefit from asking these three questions. I’ve asked some of those questions myself in the past. I particularly like his “kitchen fire/building fire” analogy.

What are you willing to risk your life for? Only you can answer this question. But, I recommend asking it in advance. Remember, fighting is problem-solving at high speed. The more questions you can answer in advance the more efficiently you arrive at a solution.

I think we’ve all heard the Creepy Joe quote about how police officers should be trained to just shoot people in the leg. Everyone who is a person of the gun (and a lot of people who are not) should realize this is obviously bolshie bushwa. (If you don’t understand why: try hitting a small target like a leg under extreme cognitive and physical stress. This is why police officers are trained to shoot “center of mass” aka “the biggest part of the body”.)

I’ve had this video in the back of my head for a while now, and I thought I’d post it as another reason why “shoot ’em in the leg” isn’t such a good idea. This is from Iran: the suspect in this video allegedly robbed a bank.

As best as I can tell, the police officer shoots the suspect in the leg at about the 30 second mark. Two points:

1. The suspect is still conscious and capable of putting up a fight for another 45 seconds or so after he was shot. How much damage do you think someone can do with a knife in 45 seconds?

2. The suspect bled out and died. Shooting someone in the leg does not mean “not lethal”. If you hit an artery, the person you shot can bleed to death before the ambulance gets there.

Obit watch: June 5, 2020.

Friday, June 5th, 2020

Bruce Jay Friedman, noted writer.

Like his contemporaries Joseph Heller, Stanley Elkin and Thomas Pynchon, he wrote what came to be called black humor, largely because of an anthology by that name that he edited in 1965. His first two novels, “Stern” (1962) and the best-selling “A Mother’s Kisses” (1964) — tales of New York Jews exploring an America outside the five boroughs — and his first play, the 1967 Off Broadway hit “Scuba Duba,” a sendup of race relations that is set in motion when a Jewish man fears his wife is having an affair with a black spear fisherman, made him widely celebrated. The New York Times Magazine in 1968 declared Mr. Friedman “The Hottest Writer of the Year.”

He also wrote the screenplays for “Splash” and “Stir Crazy”, and the works that were turned into “The Lonely Guy” and “The Heartbreak Kid”.

For the historical record: Hutton Gibson, Mel Gibson’s father.

Hutton Gibson belonged to a splinter group of Catholics who reject the reforms of the Second Vatican Council of 1962-1965, known as Vatican II. These traditionalists seek to preserve centuries-old orthodoxy, especially the Tridentine Mass, the Latin Mass established in the 16th century. They operate their own chapels, schools and clerical orders apart from the Vatican and in opposition to it.
But even among these outsiders, Mr. Gibson, who had early in life attended a seminary before dropping out, was extreme in his views. He denied the legitimacy of John Paul II as pope, once calling him a “Koran Kisser,” and said Vatican II had been “a Masonic plot backed by the Jews.” He called Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, a traditionalist leader until his death in 1991, a “compromiser.” Mr. Gibson earned the nickname “Pope Gibson” for his outspoken, dogmatic opinions on faith.
After he was expelled from a conservative group in Australia, where he had moved with his family from New York State in 1968, Mr. Gibson formed his own, Alliance for Catholic Tradition. Beginning in 1977, he disseminated his ultra-Orthodox views in a newsletter, “The War Is Now!,” and through self-published books, including “Is the Pope Catholic?” (1978) and “The Enemy is Here!” (1994). The Wisconsin Historical Society library and archives holds Mr. Gibson’s published works among its extensive collection of religious publications.

In 2003, as Mel Gibson was directing “The Passion of the Christ,” his film about the crucifixion, Hutton Gibson gave an interview to The New York Times laced with comments about conspiracy theories. The planes that crashed into the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001, had been remote-controlled, he claimed (without saying by whom). The number of Jews killed in the Holocaust was wildly inflated, he went on.
“Go and ask an undertaker or the guy who operates the crematorium what it takes to get rid of a dead body,” Mr. Gibson said. “It takes one liter of petrol and 20 minutes. Now, six million?”
In a radio interview a week before the February 2004 release of “The Passion,” Mr. Gibson went further, saying of the Holocaust, “It’s all — maybe not all fiction — but most of it is.” The comments added to an already simmering controversy that the film was anti-Semitic; the chairmen of two major studios told The Times that they wouldn’t work with Mel Gibson in the future.

Father Vincent Robert Capodanno.

Monday, May 25th, 2020

Father Capodanno was ordained as a Catholic priest in 1958. He did missionary work in Taiwan and Hong Kong. But he felt a stronger calling.

So he enlisted, went through Officer Candidate School and was commissioned as a Lieutenant in 1965. He served with the United States Navy Chaplain Corps, and was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st Marine Division. Later he was transferred to the 1st Medical Battalion, 1st Marine Division to finish out his first tour. He took six months of leave, and then re-enlisted and was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 5th Marines. Shortly after that, he was reassigned to the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, 1st Marine Division.

Father Capodanno was more than a priest ministering within the horrific arena of war. He became a constant companion to the Marines: living, eating, and sleeping in the same conditions of the men. He established libraries, gathered and distributed gifts and organized outreach programs for the local villagers. He spent hours reassuring the weary and disillusioned, consoling the grieving, hearing confessions, instructing converts, and distributing St. Christopher medals. Such work “energized” him, and he requested an extension to remain with the Marines.

The troops called him “The Grunt Padre”.

Lt. RJ Marnell remembers, “Fr. Capodanno was … told several times it was not his job to go on patrols, fire sweeps, etc. Yet you had to watch him like a hawk as it was not uncommon to see a group of Marines running to get on a helicopter to go into battle, and all of a sudden this figure comes out of nowhere, no rifle, just his priest gear, and jumping in the helicopter before anybody could catch him. He wanted to be with his Marines and didn’t feel his job was simply to say Mass on Sundays.”

He became a true father to young boys on the front lines. He was “out there” with his men where he lived, ate, and slept as they did. To the young recruits thrust into the terrifying reality of battle, he was always available in his tent where anyone could drop in for comfort and guidance.
He shared his salary, rations and cigarettes with anyone in need. He could always be counted upon for a cold soda or a book from his reading library. When Christmas came around and soldiers felt forgotten, Father Vincent saw to it that no Marine was without gifts which he obtained through a relentless campaign from friends and organizations all over the world.
More importantly, he heard confessions for hours on end, instructed converts, and administered the sacraments. His granting of General Absolution before battle unburdened the consciences of the Marines and instilled in them the courage to fight. His mere presence in a unit was enough to lift the morale of all on patrol.
When men died, he was at their side so they would not die alone. He gave them Last Rites encouraging them to repent and persevere. In addition, he wrote countless letters of personal condolence to parents of wounded and dead Marines and offered solid grounding and hope to fellow Marines who lost friends.
When the pseudo-peace movement began to oppose the war, Fr. Vincent raised the spirits of demoralized soldiers in the field. He encouraged his men to oppose that same brutal communist system, which still oppresses Vietnam today.

When his second tour of duty was up, he begged his superiors for an extension. That extension was denied: he was supposed to go home in November of 1967.

On September 4, 1967, at 4:30 am, during Operation Swift in the Thang Binh District of the Que Son Valley, elements of the 1st Battalion, 5th Marines encountered a large North Vietnamese Army (NVA) unit of approximately 2,500 men near the village of Dong Son. The outnumbered and disorganized Company D of the 1st Battalion was in need of reinforcements. By 9:14 am, 26 Marines were confirmed dead, and two rifle companies from the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines were committed to the battle. At 9:25 am, the commander of 1st Battalion requested further reinforcements.

In response to reports that the 2d Platoon of M Company was in danger of being overrun by a massed enemy assaulting force, Lt. Capodanno left the relative safety of the company command post and ran through an open area raked with fire, directly to the beleaguered platoon. Disregarding the intense enemy small-arms, automatic-weapons, and mortar fire, he moved about the battlefield administering last rites to the dying and giving medical aid to the wounded. When an exploding mortar round inflicted painful multiple wounds to his arms and legs, and severed a portion of his right hand, he steadfastly refused all medical aid. Instead, he directed the corpsmen to help their wounded comrades and, with calm vigor, continued to move about the battlefield as he provided encouragement by voice and example to the valiant marines. Upon encountering a wounded corpsman in the direct line of fire of an enemy machine gunner positioned approximately 15 yards away, Lt. Capodanno rushed a daring attempt to aid and assist the mortally wounded corpsman. At that instant, only inches from his goal, he was struck down by a burst of machine gun fire.

Father Capodanno was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his actions.

The Catholic Church is considering the case to canonize Father Capodanno as a saint. As I understand it, he has been named “Servant of God”, which is the first step in the process, but I can’t tell if there’s been any progress on this since 2013.

Obit watch: January 23, 2020.

Thursday, January 23rd, 2020

Wow. It got busy up in here all of the sudden.

Jim Lehrer. I feel like I should have more to say about this, but I was only an occasional “NewsHour” watcher. And I think the papers for the next day or so are going to be filled with eulogies that are probably better than I could write.

John Karlen, working actor. He was Willie Loomis on “Dark Shadows” and Lacey’s husband on “Cagney and Lacey”, among his 117 credits

…which do include “Mannix”. (“Quartet for Blunt Instrument”, season 8, episode 19. He was “Hood #1”.)

Jack Kehoe, who never did “Mannix”, but was the “Erie Kid” in “The Sting”, the book keeper in “The Untouchables” (the DePalma one) and had roles in “Serpico”, “Melvin and Howard”, and a bunch of other films.

Jack Van Impe, televangelist.

Mr. Van Impe promoted a view of the end of the world known in evangelical circles as dispensational premillennialism, which teaches that Christians will be raptured, or taken up to heaven, before a period of tribulation, a final battle called Armageddon and the return and rule of Jesus on earth.
His sermons had titles like “The Coming War with Russia, According to the Bible. Where? When? Why?” (In that sermon he warned of a coming world dictator and a Russian invasion of Israel.) In his final broadcast, on Jan. 10, he discussed relations between the United States and Iran and predicted “the bloodiest war in the world,” saying it would result mostly in the deaths of “Muslim terrorists.”