September 12, 2021
561 Words 3-Minute Read
Most of you know that I have had Covid 19. If you’ve never had Covid 19, you can not believe how painful and frustrating it can sometimes be.
That’s why I have had my dear sister, Lana, occasionally substitute something for me appropriate for the date. I simply did NOT feel like typing ANYTHING.
Such was the case just a few weeks ago as I was getting ready to write my Sunday blog post. It was going to be short anyway but at the last minute, I told Lana to write me a substitute. She’s a pure genius when it comes to her choice as to what is the best substitute for the occasion.
So today, I will attempt to write that particular blog post.
This story reminded me of what my late, brother-like, first cousin, James Redmon did in grade school when he was about eight years old.
Over some time, I’m sure I figured out exactly what his quarrel was about with several other boys that he said something to that they did not like. But I won’t share with you what it was because many people just would not understand CLOSE family connections.
Anyway, those boys took James Lee down into a wooded area on campus and beat the blood out of him. The school janitor found James Lee about an hour later. He was okay but never told anyone at school what the beating-up was all about. However, he did tell to the family once he got home. I DO respect him for what he did to this day.
I did NOT hear any of the conversations he had with Granddaddy Jay about his problem. But a few days later, I heard Granddaddy Jay say to Grandmother Mae,“ We still ain’t raised no quitters in this house. I’m so proud of what Bo did”. (That’s what James Lee was called most of his life).
I will attempt to write this famous speech which I intend to have framed and hung somewhere appropriately in my office. Maybe next to Lincoln’s famous Gettysburg Address. Why not?
I love political speeches even though most modern presidents employ their own speech-writers. However, it was said that Lincoln never did.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
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God Bless You