Category Archives: Uncategorized

Have you ever lost your car in a parking lot?

10 Monday Nov 2025

Posted by in humor in everyday life, Uncategorized

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I decided to post something a bit more lighthearted than several of my recent somber entries. As part of my Memoir prompts, I was asked to write about my experience with the above titled subject.

Yes, indeed. It’s quite embarrassing. May even happen on a weekly basis, but only if I’m by myself. I try to park by a light pole or a cart corral so it’s easier to remember the spot. It’s difficult to not make it obvious when I’m prowling around row after row of cars at HyVee with a loaded shopping cart. Everyone else knows what the problem is. How can one act nonchalant? Oh, just getting my steps in for the day.

The worst case happened to me in the past when I had what we satirically called “The Beater.” It was a gray, very indistinct, older model Nissan Sentra. On at least two occasions I actually got in the wrong unlocked car. Talk about a wake-up. I had sat down and closed the door. But in about a second I came to realize, “Oh my. This doesn’t seem familiar at all. These are not my things on the passenger seat and my seat is too low and my key won’t work.” The awkward part is getting out before the real owner shows up.

Strange things can happen in parking lots. Just yesterday I stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts Shop. As I opened my door to get out, from the corner of my eye I saw a Black man open the passenger side back door, ducking his head trying to enter. He said “Hey. How’s it goin’?” Quite surprised in cautious confusion I stuttered “Uh, what?” He asked “So are you the Uber driver?”

Still stunned (by racial profiling, not knowing if I was being mugged or car jacked) I told him no, NO! He said, “Sorry, my bad,” closed the door and walked away. I shrugged it off for the honest mistake that it was and went in to get my donuts. Kinda makes me wonder, as I get older, what could be next?

Apparently, we have put down the WELCOME mat for our worst fears

06 Thursday Nov 2025

Posted by in Communism, Uncategorized, war

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The so called “Red Scare” during the Cold War of the 1950s was a period of intense anti-communist paranoia in the United States, fueled by the fear that it would spread from the Soviet Union and infiltrate American society. By the time of President John F. Kennedy’s accession to office in1961, the suspicions had morphed into potential threats growing in Southeast Asia.

As a precaution, Kennedy sent military “advisors” to South Vietnam, and approved a CIA executed coup d’état of the government just weeks before his assassination in November of 1963.

I was in my early 20s during the progression of what became the actual Vietnam War. It was my “coming of age” season, so to speak. I was drafted in 1969, but because of a 4-F classification from the U.S. Selective Service System, I never served. But tragically I personally knew several young men who went into the jungles of hell and came home in body bags.

One such valiant warrior was Phillip “Greg” Wigton. I met him during a difficult time in my life, after abruptly leaving the seminary and starting classes at Creighton University. He was a friend, always smiling and upbeat, and kind. He was 22 when he fell in battle as a US Marine Corps Lance Corporal at Quang Tri. I think about him from time to time and can’t wait to hug him in heaven.

Sometimes I think I’d like to drag those politicians responsible for that horror out of their graves – like President Lyndon B. Johnson, Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara and the Joint Chiefs of Staff – and force them to view the bodies or body parts of the over 58,000 members of the armed services who died or were missing as a result of one of history’s most unnecessary wars.

While we’re at it, let’s have them look at each and every one of the innocent women and children we burned to death with napalm. Have you seen the 1972 photo officially titled “The Terror of War” that shocked the world? It captures the moment when 9-year-old Phan Thi Kim Phuc fled naked, her arms outstretched, after South Vietnamese bomber planes mistakenly targeted her village. Her clothes were burned off.

Kennedy’s raison d’être (the French were in control of the country until 1954) for the escalation of hostilities against the Viet Cong was in part from Cold War-era fears about the “domino theory.” If communism took hold in Vietnam, it could topple “democracies” throughout the whole of Southeast Asia, it was thought. After all the bloodshed on both sides, in 1975 Saigon fell anyway.

Last helicopter out of Saigon, April 29, 1975

Now it has come overtly to our own soil. Today we have a Communist mayor-elect (voted in by 51% of the people) in New York City. How ironic.

Because Zorhan Mamdani is not a natural-born citizen, per Article II, Section 1 of the US Constitution, he cannot qualify as a candidate for President of the United States. Too bad. I think he would give pretty boy Gavin Newsom and socially and politically retarded ex-VP Harris a run for their money, literally.


For more of my thoughts, read my February 10, 2015 post, War. What is it good for?

Memento mori, Episode 4

25 Saturday Oct 2025

Posted by in Life and death, religion, Uncategorized

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This is the fourth installment of my “Remember you will die” series of real-life scenarios to remind us of the brevity of our lives, and to be prepared for its inevitable, often seemingly premature, end. More details about my perspective and intentions can be found on the August 26th post.

Besides the unusual circumstances of the event, what makes this tragedy unique is the victim’s mother’s response. It is a sad story, nonetheless, about how unexpected circumstances like weather and a train can in an instant alter the lives of so many people.

NEWS ITEM: It was on the night of January 14, 2015, when a prison transport vehicle carrying 15 men skidded off a Texas highway overpass and plunged into the path of a moving Union Pacific freight train. After the collision, the bus was dragged for about 200 yards along the tracks, leaving it a crumpled mass alongside the tracks before coming to a stop near Penwell, just west of Odessa. The prisoners did not have seat belts and were handcuffed together in pairs, officials said. Some of them were ejected from the bus after it struck the train.

Two long-time veteran prison department officers and eight inmates died from injuries suffered in the accident. “It’s as bad as you can imagine,” Odessa Fire and Rescue Battalion Chief Kavin Tinney remarked. “In 32 years, it’s as bad as anything I’ve seen.” Officials later concluded that icy roads were to blame for the crash.

One of the victims, 29-year-old inmate Tyler Townsend had called his mother in Benbrook the night before. “I said, ‘Let’s pray for a safe journey. Call me Sunday night,’” Petra Townsend recalled when interviewed. “He said, ‘OK.’”  “I said, ‘I love you.’ He told me he loved me too, and that was it.”

She admitted that her son chose his own journey outside of the law early on, using drugs as a teenager. He went to prison twice before, for drugs and other crimes, including car theft, but managed to graduate from an alternative school, and even tried college. “I always believed he was going to change that path,” his mother told reporters. She felt that Tyler believed it, too. Sentenced to three years, Tyler had been denied an early release on Dec. 28, just a couple weeks before the accident.

A deeply religious woman, Mrs. Townsend said her son had recently been baptized in prison. She said her faith does not have room for laying blame for her son’s death. “That’s part of a plan we can’t understand. This is God’s business. This is God,” she repeated. “No, no, no. Don’t question.”

I am fairly certain that none of the men involved in this tragedy woke up that morning and expected to end up later that day in a morgue. Talk about bad timing – the weather, an icy overpass, the train schedule. But when it comes to death, what would be good timing? 

“The same destiny ultimately awaits everyone, whether righteous or wicked, good or bad” (Eccl. 9:2).

Memento mori, Episode 3

11 Thursday Sep 2025

Posted by in Bible, Jesus Christ, Live your purpose, religion, Ukraine, Uncategorized

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If you are new to this site, before reading the following I suggest you go back to the August 26th post which will explain in detail what my intentions are with this Episode. Basically, I am presenting a series of real-life scenarios to remind us of the brevity of our lives (literally Remember, you will die) and to be prepared for its inevitable, often seemingly premature, end.

I didn’t plan on writing about the subjects for this post, until today. The prior two concern accidental deaths in the recent past. The following, however, reported by fresh ink headlines or recent pings on your phones, are sudden, deliberate deaths – by murder.

First, Iryna Zarutska, a young Ukrainian woman who had recently come to the United States to escape the life-threatening perils of war with Russia, to live the American dream. Vivid video evidence shows Iryna boarding the Charlotte (N.C.) Light Rail at 9:46 to go home after working at Zepeddies Pizzeria. Four minutes later, Decarlos Brown, Jr., leapt up from the seat behind her and stabbed her in the neck three times with a pocket knife.

Brown, 34, has a criminal history spanning over a decade, including felony breaking and entering and robbery with a dangerous weapon. He had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and suffered hallucinations and paranoia, his sister Tracey Brown said. Her brother told her multiple times that the government had implanted some kind of a chip in him to force him to act against his will.

Zarutska, a beautiful, petite 23-year-old, had received a degree in art and restoration in Kyiv and hoped to become a veterinary assistant. She was living in a bomb shelter before coming to the United States. Family and friends describe her as “a real sweetheart” with “a heart of gold.”

Do we call her death “untimely”? Iryna the “victim”? Brown the “assailant”? Was she in the wrong place at the wrong time? Who do we blame? The failed justice system? Mental illness? Fate? A dark force or just plain evil out to devour whomever might be the next innocent target?

How could an intersection like that happen?

However we decide to paint it, the bloody scene of Iryna’s murder screams at us the living to face life’s unavoidable reality: “The same destiny ultimately awaits everyone, whether righteous or wicked, good or bad . . . religious or irreligious” (Eccl. 9:2). We like to dismiss death as some day far into the future, pushing it into a dark corner with the rest of our fears, but we must remember that it can creep up behind us, anywhere, anytime.

Next, Charlie Kirk, conservative activist and Turning Point USA co-founder, was shot – no, assassinated – yesterday (September 10, 2025) at Utah Valley University, the first stop on an “American Comeback Tour” of 15 college campuses. He was speaking to a large crowd at an outdoor “Prove Me Wrong” event, where he invites students to hear and debate his political and cultural views about issues like climate change, sexuality, faith and family values.

Just in case you are unfamiliar with Charlie, he was an avid public speaker, addressing Republican events, and touring the country with Turning Point USA, a right-wing nonprofit with the stated mission “to identify, educate, train, and organize students to promote the principles of freedom, free markets, and limited government.” His daily talk radio show had millions of followers on social media.

At just 31, Charlie was so much more than a populist, conservative, relentless and courageous crusader for free speech, and an outspoken MAGA culture warrior. He was a devoted husband and a father of two young children. His brief life is the testimony of a true American patriot, but more than that, he was a man – an authentic, passionate man of faith, not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ. He is truly a Psalm 1:1-3 example. Look it up.

Jesus said that the thief (the Enemy) “comes to steal, kill and destroy” (John 10:10). An attempt to do so happened yesterday. But Charlie’s ministry and mission will survive, continuing to influence the youth of this country, from beyond the grave so to speak, one citizen after another. What an outstanding legacy!

Rest In Peace, dear brother, as we plead, “O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” (Psalm 39:4)

Memento mori, Episode 2

03 Wednesday Sep 2025

Posted by in Bible, Life and death, religion, Uncategorized

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If you are new to this site, before reading the following I suggest you go back to the August 26th post which will explain in detail what my intentions are with this Episode 2.

Basically, I am presenting a series of real-life scenarios to remind us of the brevity of our lives, and to be prepared for its inevitable, often seemingly premature, end. We can go all the way back to Genesis 3:19 for the origin of another “memento” phrase, one used by the Roman Church traditionally on Ash Wednesdays: “Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.” (“Remember, man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.”)

This tragic event occurred in 2011 but remains an incident appropriate for this series.

NEWS ITEM: It’s a typical, hot early July evening in Arlington, Texas, home of the Texas Rangers ball club. Shannon Stone had driven 150 miles to the ballpark to enjoy the game that night with his young son, Cooper, sitting right next to him in the left field stands. It’s the ultimate father-son American experience — until he dies trying to catch a ball. It’s hard to comprehend.

The fateful accident happened in the second inning after Oakland’s Connor Jackson hit a foul ball that bounced back onto the field.

Rangers’ All-Star outfielder Josh Hamilton, ironically Cooper’s favorite player, snagged that ball and tossed it into the stands, aiming right for Stone and his boy.

Stone leaned over the railing to retrieve Hamilton’s throw, probably the first time he had an opportunity to catch an MLB ball for his son. He must have been aware of this surely magical moment, a memory he hoped his son would cherish forever. Then he apparently lost his balance, and tumbled over as Cooper and hundreds of fans watched in horror on the Jumbotron screen, falling head-first about 20 feet to the concrete below. Stone went into cardiac arrest while being transported to the hospital and died in transit.

Stone was just 39-years old, an 18-year veteran lieutenant with his hometown Brownwood, Texas fire department, and undoubtedly had experienced his share of dangerous situations, risking his life for the sake of others.

Still conscious on a stretcher leaving the park, Stone pleaded, “Please check on my son. My son is up there all by himself.” The EMTs who carried him out reassured him. “Sir, we’ll get your son. We’ll make sure he’s OK.”

 I’m not sure that he ever will be.

Post script: The Rangers went on to beat Oakland 6-0.

Memento mori. Episode 1

26 Tuesday Aug 2025

Posted by in Bible, religion, Uncategorized

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Today I am posting the first in a series of real-life scenarios focusing on the brevity of our lives and its inevitable, often seemingly premature, end.

The overall title is a Latin phrase roughly translated as “Remember you will die.” Basically, it has been used over the centuries as a concept that encourages reflection on mortality and the fleeting nature of life, and to live each day to the fullest. It is more common to see these days than you might think. A young man I met at the gym had the statement tattooed along his forearm in a large, all caps Old English type font. Memento mori coins, pendants and medallions can be found online for anyone too squeamish or shy to display it permanently on their skin but willing enough to keep the thought close at hand.

It is not a Carpe Diem mentality which boasts about enjoying the pleasures of the moment without any concern for the future. Instead, we are counseled to number our days so that we may live wisely (Psalm 90:12). This means using our awareness of life’s brevity in order to make wise choices, prioritize what truly matters, and to live a meaningful life. 

The purpose then is not to develop a morbid fascination with death, but rather to encourage a more meaningful and purposeful life by acknowledging its brevity. By familiarizing individuals of their own unavoidable mortality, it can help prioritize what truly matters and to live accordingly. Isn’t that what the Bible does?

Actually, I could cite many verses in sacred scripture that focus on exactly such advice and even with warnings about the transitory nature of human existence. In fact, the notion has been over time a common theme in Christian thought, particularly during the Medieval period, as a reminder of the Day of Judgment. The afflicted Job in his suffering laments, “How frail is humanity! How short is life, how full of trouble! We blossom like a flower and then wither. Like a passing shadow, we quickly disappear” (Job 14:1).

Like a passing shadow. O that we would see our busy days with such perception.

The following narrative affirms how quickly and unexpectedly the end can come.

IN THE NEWS: The Kearney Hub newspaper headline reads: “Retired Business Owner Is Crash Victim.”  But there’s so much more to it, beyond the official details of the police report. There’s always the human, heartbreaking side of these events that put a gulp in your throat for the unlucky victims and the grieving survivors who are left to deal with the consequences of a wrong turn.

Betty Beavers and a friend were just feet away from driving into the Little Caesar’s Pizza parking lot for a Fourth of July weekend lunch date when her 1997 Lincoln Town car was broadsided by Tim Trompke and his ’99 Chevy pickup. The Lincoln, built solid like a luxury tank, was smashed into a wedge shape, pinning Betty inside in an ugly twist of brokenness. The pickup continued on sideways, stopped finally by a light pole.

Emergency personnel transported both drivers to Good Samaritan’s, just down the street on Second Avenue where Betty was pronounced dead. She was 69. Trompke was treated and released.

I was there that Sunday with my Kearney family on our way to pick up some lunch too, after church. We passed by the accident scene a couple hours after the dust had settled and the screaming stopped. Talking to some other onlookers in a grocery store parking lot we learned the sad news that there was a fatality involved. Looking at the wreckage, it seemed so obvious that some reckless young Kearney cowboy had probably been high on something, and innocent folks yet again would pay the price for his poor choices.

Not really. The accident report later indicated that eastbound 52-year-old Trompke suffered a seizure while driving, lost control of his vehicle and jumped the median, impacting the westbound Lincoln and its occupants. It happened at 10:48 on a pleasant Sunday morning. Isn’t it odd that in this life, so often timing is everything?

Postscript:  Neither Ms. Beavers nor Trompke were wearing seat belts.

It’s the end of the world! Maybe.

14 Thursday Aug 2025

Posted by in Bible, Prophecy, religion, Uncategorized

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“It’s real wrath of God type stuff. Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies. Rivers and seas boiling. Earthquakes and volcanoes. The dead rising from the grave, human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria.” Of course, this is a satirical quote from the 1984 Ghostbusters scene when Dan Aykroyd and Bill Murry express their dire warnings to the New York City mayoral staff about an impending supernatural apocalypse.  

Not surprisingly, it sounds like a close paraphrasing to many texts and podcast subjects I am beginning to see on social media these days. Once into the End Times algorithms, you’re doomed (pun). Here’s just a few topics I saw today: “Final Warning: Rapture hits in just hours,” “God gave me a timeline,” “Is Obama the Antichrist?” “Trump’s role in the end times,” “Angels revealed to me what’s coming to America,” “The secrets of Fatima unfolding now!”

How does one separate valid prophesy from the explosions of crackpot “seers” on YouTube and Facebook? First, I would click off of any media that begins with “God showed me . . .” In Old Testament times, false prophets were stoned to death (Deut. 18:20).

Secondly, there are some tests to identify a true message from God. 1. Does it align with what the Bible, the Word of God, has to say about the matter? 2. Does it reflect the character and attributes of God as expressed in scripture? 3. Does the Holy Spirit within you testify to the words? John 10 says that the sheep of the Good Shepherd hear his voice and a stranger they will not follow. 4. Is the speaker a trusted and tested person with a reputation of godly character? and 5. Is there confirmation from other reliable spiritual sources?

1 John 4:1 advises, “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see if they are from God.” Similarly, Paul states in 1 Thessalonians 5:21, “But test everything; hold on to what is good.” The Greek word used here also means to examine, prove, or scrutinize.

I have no quarrel with prophecy. According to Christian belief, the gift of prophecy is from the Holy Spirit. It is described as a ministry gift that can be received by believers to edify, exhort, and comfort the church. There is also the manifestational gift of prophecy that can be given to any believer as the Spirit wills, for guidance, for direction, and for calling folks into a right fellowship with God. Paul wished that all would prophesy (1 Cor. 14:5). I have done so, over many souls, as I was directed by God based on what I saw in the spirit to deliver a word specific to that person’s particular situation.

Finally, about all this doomsday panic, I would avoid the Book of Revelation, with its many subjective interpretations. Instead, anyone looking for signs of the end need but to read Matthew 24:4-44, where Jesus is quite specific about what must transpire before the end comes.

Personally, I’m okay just singing R.E.M.’s 1987 hit lyrics, “It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.” When the Bridegroom chooses to appear, I plan to have my lamp lit and be ready to go into the wedding feast with Him.

P.S. Obama is not the antichrist. Are you going to test me on that?

More thoughts about JFK

04 Wednesday Jun 2025

Posted by in John F. Kennedy, Uncategorized

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Recently I was asked to write a memoir about where I was when I heard about the assassination of President Kennedy and how it affected me. So, here goes:

I was a senior at Creighton Prep High School, in the middle of art class. It was a Friday, just after lunch period. An announcement came over the speaker system informing us that the President had been shot during a motorcade through Dallas, Texas, and was rushed to a hospital. We were led in prayers for what suddenly became a shockingly serious situation for Kennedy and the country. Efforts to save him were futile. He was declared dead at 1:00pm Central Time.

A schoolmate’s father died of a heart attack on the same day. Two sad funerals occurred then on Monday. Many tears were shed.

Our family had a more than President-citizen relationship with JFK. My Aunt Helen, my mom’s sister, was a major player for the Democrat Party of Nebraska’s effort to promote Kennedy’s campaign for the presidency in 1960. Amazingly, for her efforts she was appointed personal secretary to Robert Kennedy when he became Attorney General in January of 1961, a post she held until he resigned the office to run for the U.S. Senate from New York.

On the evening of November 20, 1963 Helen had actually spoken with the President at an exclusive party celebrating the 38th birthday of brother Robert. The following morning, John and Jackie left for Texas.

From the minute CBS News anchor Walter Cronkite battled to hold his emotions in check to inform the world of JFK’s death, through a weekend of non-stop live black and white TV broadcast updates until the interment, life was on hold. We were eating Sunday breakfast in the living room when we watched someone later identified as Jack Ruby shoot Kennedy’s alleged assassin Lee Harvey Oswald on live TV. I almost choaked on my scrambled eggs.

My Uncle John, Helen’s and my mother’s brother, who at the time was living in Falls Church, Virginia, and working for the CIA, somehow against a crushing crowd of onlookers, made it into Arlington Cemetery. The funeral procession was long and thousands had gathered along the route across the Potomac to catch a glimpse of it. John, a decorated veteran of World War II himself, saw several news photographers standing on tombstones to film the event. After chasing them away, disgusted, he went back home, missing the historic horse-drawn caisson headed to the gravesite.

I never met the man. I was at home babysitting my toddler brother when the family went to the social gathering in June of ’59. Even so, after his death I gradually became more impressed, more affected, by his charm, eloquence, charisma and youthful energy, all qualities usually foreign to a resident of the White House; by the storybook Crusader-Knight mystique of a dynamic leader fearless in his vision for social justice and the race into space; with his communication skills, and ability to inspire a nation with his “Ask not” challenge to patriotism and national pride. In many ways, he modeled the title of his bestselling book, Profiles In Courage. That final day in Dallas hurt me enough to write from my heart a poem 52 years later, to lament the loss of so much more than a president: The loss of my generation’s Camelot.

PS. My grandmother pictured here with Kennedy also shows my mom, far left and Helen introducing the then Senator from Massachusetts prior to his declaring his presidential candidacy. The original 8 x 10 was personalized with the following: “To Mrs. Popa – with the warm regards and best wishes of her friend. John Kennedy.” She is featured in my “Immigration, 1914” post, October 19, 2024. Maybe I will write a story titled “Romanian Peasant Meets President-to-Be.”

Happy Mother’s Day

11 Sunday May 2025

Posted by in Mother's Day, Uncategorized

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How should I describe the mother of my children,
whom I celebrate today?
She’s my spouse? Too legalistic. My better half?
How about my better eighty percent. My best friend?
Sounds like high school besties. Soul mate?
Hmm. Getting closer but not quite adequate enough.
More so would be: the face of true Love.
She’s the one who saves me from teetering over the edge.
She turns my head back to reason lest I fall on my own sword.
She is the superglue that binds together the
fractures in my universe.
She is the ladder bridge across life’s every
crevasse on my path to summiting my destiny.

Wait a minute! Isn’t all that what God is supposed to do?
True. But God wears people in this world,
and He’s wearing the mother of my children quite well.
The face of true Love looks like my
Judith Ann.

Jelly Beans

11 Friday Apr 2025

Posted by in Easter, Holidays, poem, Uncategorized

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It must be Easter time because
they have made their appearance.
Bagsful in the grocery store candy isle
and now into a fancy dish on our table.
I love ‘em. That attractive, tempting palette of color.
Some give away their flavors without a doubt.
Orange is orangy. Red is cherry. Green, sour apple.
Kids don’t like the Black Licorice. Just older folks.
What about the one that’s sadly pale?
A mystery flavor. Coconut or Cream Soda?

I asked Alexa “What are jelly beans made of?”
She immediately came back with
“The basic ingredients of jelly beans include
sugar, tapioca or corn syrup, and pectin or starch,
and a shellac of Confectioner’s glaze.”
Mmmm. Love the shellac.
Whatever the content, they are perennially
a chewy deliciousness that disappears
quite quickly from my Easter basket.

But not before the chocolate.