Red Shoe's Chronicles

Monday, September 21, 2015

We Are...

Delta State...

If you have ever read this trainwreck of a blog,

you know that I have referenced many times that

I work at a place that I have often referred to as...

Alluvial Flood Plain State...

A delta is referred at as an alluvial flood plain...

just a goofy play on words...

Anyhoo...

We are a small four-year regional university that does what it does very well. We provide a quality education.

We aren't a research institution... you will never confuse us with

Ole Miss or Mississippi State...

... but one employer told me recently that he has more employees from our school than he does Ole Miss and State combined...

That says something...

Last Monday, I get up... get dressed... go to work... just like I have any number of times over the past 327 years that I have worked at this institution... (I really haven't worked here THAT long... but I tend to take artistic license with facts...)

... but I digress.

At some point, I was getting ready to step down the hallway and harass some colleagues... I feel that in my self-appointed position as 'morale officer,' this is my job.

Just before I leave my office, I hear the sound of a siren on a police car... squealing tires... and someone leaving at a great rate of speed... From time to time we hear sirens... but tend to not hear the squealing tires and such...

I step out into the hallway... and I see this woman that I know that works downstairs in the dean's office...

'we are under lock-down... there's an active shooter on campus'...

"Oh Fuck...!!!!" I thought...

I went back to my office... checked status through the campus police dept... no alert had been posted... I dashed upstairs to my division chair's office and ask him if we are under 'lock down...'

"I don't know... let me find out..."

then he looks at me and says...

"Yes!!!"

"there has been a shooting..."

... and the building where the shooting occurred

was right next door to our building.

"that's all we know right now..."

Well... if you don't know me, I am a 'care-giver'... I immediately went backdown to the our office suite... locked out suite doors... and told everyone what I knew was going down...

We could already hear more and more sirens outside the building... things were getting tense. I told everyone in our suite that I was locking the door... don't let anyone in without identifying them... and that I was going to make sure that class rooms were notified...

So I'm off and down the hallway... classrooms secured... doors locked... I knocked on the doors of classrooms where i knew division colleagues were teaching to make sure they were notified... and I head back towards our suite..

I see this young fellow sitting on a sofa... just reading away... and I know he hasn't a clue as to what is going on... so I go to him... calmly tell him that he needs to get his stuff and come with me... we weren't safe right now.

... so he and I are off heading towards safety... we get back into the locked down suite... and I get a text message that the suspect is a student...

... and then I look at this kid that I just brought into our locked-down suite... and think...

"I don't know this guy..."

"OH FUCK!!!!!!!"

"Did I just let the shooter into our safe haven?!?!?!"

... so I am going from colleague to colleague...

"Do YOU know this guy?!?!?!?!"

... and no one... not a SOUL knows him...

so I quietly go to my office... call my chair and ask if there are

any law enforcement in our building yet?

Of course, by this time, the campus is swarming with local police... county sheriff deputies, Mississippi Highway Patrol SWAT, and SWAT from another county.

I tell him that I need some officers to come and check out an individual... that I may have just put my entire suite at risk by simply looking out for the safety of a student.

He tells me help is on the way... I am expecting two... maybe three officers...

something like this...

... and, instead, I get something that looks like this...

I open the door to motion for them to come where I am...

wrong move...

I have more barrels pointed at me that I can even count.

I identify myself... show them where the unknown student is...

and they proceed to scare about 20 years of life out of this poor kid. I feel so bad... so responsible for what he endured...

But I couldn't take a chance.

my school...

So, there was a shooting on our campus... a professor was

murdered by another professor.

All kinds of lurid stories have been bantered around as to what may have been behind the actions of the shooter.

Honestly, I don't know...

Since it was initially believed that the shooter was a student...

that he or she could still be on campus.

Our building was one of those that was secured and locked down.

I was getting text messages from former students that are now working and employed that were distressed because the story going around one business was that I was the one who had been killed.

I have to tell you that I was so honored by the number of former students that were worried about their past professors and school.

Law Enforcement was phenomenal.

They erred on the side of protecting us.

I saw scared students... some upset.

I love my students... I love my kids.

There are plenty of stories and links out there that can

be searched for more information on this event.

I don't really apologize for the humorous slant to this

story... it wasn't really funny...

... but I have a tendency to put people at ease...

That's what I do...

We are...

Delta State...

~shoes~

Sunday, August 2, 2015

"When I Was A Little Boy..."

... and the Devil would

call my name....

It always amazes me... that when I get an idea

for a post... a tag line seems to come to me...

and many times, it's a song.

Having said that...

This post is about

'when I was a little boy...'

And, the Devil has nothing to do with this post...

In the process of selecting photos for other postings or hijinks,

I have found images that I decided to save because

I just thought they would come in handy.

Most, it seems, reminded me of my childhood.

A scary time...

(not really...)

I'd say 'Now who do... who do

you think you're fooling...?'

When I was a little boy...

Dad would take us for a ride in the car sometimes.

I guess Mom needed a break from us.

Some of the drives would take us out into the country...

and we would pass old country stores.

Dad would stop... take us in... and buy us each a 'belly washer'...

They would be in ice boxes like the one above.

At opening time, I guess the proprietor would stock

the drink box with the day's inventory...

and dump ice over them.

Over the course of the day, the ice would melt,

but the water would be SO cold...

When you would run your arm down into the box,

you would just shudder, the water was so cold...

This is one of my favorite memories of my Dad.

My Momma loves me...

she loves me...

She gets down on her

knees and hugs me...

Another favorite time would be when it

was time to buy school supplies...

We would always get a new box of crayons...

They never looked any prettier...

any neater...

than the first day.

I would open up the box and just stare at them...

and smell them.

They always smelled SO good.

I had sinus surgery some years ago...

I hate sinus surgery... there is nothing worse

that I have yet experienced.

Anyway, it dawned on me one day that I had

lost my sense of smell...

Talk about a bummer.

There is even a name for this condition...

it's called 'anosmia...'

There is a recommended treatment for it...

Sinus surgery...

I think I will pass.

She Loves Me Like A Rock...

Dad would take me with him when he would go grocery shopping...

I loved it when he would buy the little boxes of animal crackers...

but my favorite treat?

I was addicted to ripe olives...

pitted ripe olives...

I could eat a can at a time.

...I would stick them on my finger tips

just like the little girl in the image above.

When selecting an image for this story, I opted

to go with the little girl... and it's because

of something my Dad would tell me.

When he would tell a story from his youth,

he would start off with...

"When I was a little girl..."

That would freak me out...

I was thinking that, when I grew up,

I would be a girl.

(not that there is anything wrong with that)

She loves me like the Rock of Ages...

My all-time favorite candy bar...

Dad introduced me to these.

I thought that they were no longer made until
I found a display a few years ago...

They are like a Butterfinger...

only better.

What is your favorite candy bar?

And why??

It's times like this...

when I start to reminisce about

Life from days gone by...

That I realize how so much

I miss my Mom and Dad...

... and she loves me.

~Shoes~

Monday, July 13, 2015

"Morning Star..."

I have always been somewhat of a Civil War nut... I am not sure what there is to like about a war in which over 600,000 soldiers died...

The past few weeks have really been disturbing... the idea that a monster would go and sit in a church with a group of people... and be welcomed by those people... and then have him kill all nine of them.

I just can't understand this behavior... and I have to know that there are just mean nasty ugly people on this planet.

... but this post isn't about that... or about why I think the war was fought by either side... but as I had stated in the previous post, wars are complicated issues... and tend to not be defined by sound bites like today's elections and other events are explained.

What this post is about... is a grave in an old country cemetery... that was 'discovered' by a friend... not really 'discovered' because the grave had been there for a long time. She just decided to tell me about it and send a photo.

She told me that the tree had grown around the headstone... and she wanted to make sure it was 'ok'... Well, as you can tell by the photo above, it's not ok... at some time, a storm came through the Mississippi Delta... and blew the tree over and it took the headstone with it.

It is a military headstone that belongs to a Civil War soldier... he served with the Union Army and was a member of the USCT... if you are not familiar with that acronym, it stands for United States Colored Troops.

I am trying to learn what I can about him... there isn't much, but I have found out a few things...

I drove over to look at the cemetery and the headstone this evening...

... and I think we can fix it.

After the amount of time that has surely passed since he died, I am sure there are no remains left. I thought about contacting the National Cemetery at Vicksburg to see if he could be moved there... but really, there would be nothing to move.

Anyway...

At a time when graves of Southern soldiers from the War have been dug up and violated... this white guy with a Southern Disposition is going to see what he can do about returning a level of dignity to this gentleman's resting place...

After all... the war is over...

No?

~shoes~

Monday, June 29, 2015

"Roberts Coles..."

Roberts Coles

Green Mountain Grays

46th Virginia Infantry

Roberts Coles

November 14, 1838

February 8, 1862

When I was a boy, Dad would tell me stories about our 'family.' Being young, I figured that he was talking about the 'Browns'... I never thought about all of the different people that had to cross paths for the past hundreds and hundreds of years for me to appear on this planet.

One of the stories that Dad would tell was about a family member who owned slaves... that he freed them... and they all wanted to remain with him. The telling of the story is that he was so nice to them that they didn't want to leave.

I've been working for a few years in my genealogy... and I have learned so much. It appears that the prominent lineage in this family was the 'Coles.' They are a storied family and are listed among 'The First Families of Virginia.'

In tracing my family, I came across a fellow by the name of Edward Coles who was a well-known abolitionist from Virginia. Edward was a cousin of Thomas Jefferson and in 1814, he encouraged Jefferson to work for an end to slavery in Virginia. When the aging Jefferson chose to leave the emancipation fight to the younger generation, Edward took his slaves to Pennsylvania (March, 1819) where they boarded two flatboats for a river ride towards Illinois.

There is much more to this story, but I am writing about Roberts Coles.

Roberts Coles was the son of Edward Coles and Sally Logan Roberts Coles, a descendant of William Penn's private secretary, Irish Quaker James Logan. He was born after the family had moved from Illinois to Philadelphia.

The Battle of Roanoke Island

Despite his northern birth, Roberts always considered himself to be a true Virginian. He would spend the summers visiting the Coles family in Albermarle County... and inherited a piece of property near Enniscorthy. Roberts returned to Virginia in 1860 to run his land operation and become engaged to Jennie Fairfax, of Richmond. In 1861, the war began.

Some family records say that Edward pleaded with Roberts to not support the Southern Cause... other records say that Edward didn't know that Roberts was fighting on behalf of the Confederacy until later. Roberts, however, believed it was his duty to remain loyal to his adopted state. He and some friends pooled resources, and formed a group of Confederate volunteers. This company was called the Green Mountain Grays... which later became Company I of the 46th Virginia Infantry.

On January 4, 1862, the 46th left Richmond for Norfolk and, on January 17, began the voyage to Nags Head, a narrow strip of beach lying one-half mile east of Roanoke Island... across the Roanoke Channel. When the Federal fleet finally appeared on February 6th, Companies A and I of the 46th... under Captains Wise and Roberts Coles, were loaded onto schooners to be taken to Roanoke Island.

At the start of the ensuing battle, Roberts wrote this letter to his fiancee...

On board transport, February 7, 1862

The battle has commenced. In five minutes we will be on Roanoke Island. The sight is beautiful - our gun boats and batteries are engaging the enemy in full view and the shot and shells are whistling around us. If I fall, God grant you a happy life, as happy a one as I would have tried to have a role in. Be assured that my last thoughts on earth will be of you, my dearest Jennie. Your picture will be the last sight I shall see if time is given me to look once more upon it. I have volunteered for this service. What honor I crave is only craved that you may share it. May God Almighty bless you and may we meet in the world to come if denied that blessing here again. And now I strike for Virginia. Again good bye.

Yours forever,

Roberts Coles

Captain Roberts Coles was killed in action the next day in the battle that followed in which the Union forces were victorious. According to his military records, Captain Coles "fell bravely in the Battle of Roanoke Island." He is buried in the Coles family cemetery in Philadelphia, but a marker in his honor was placed at Enniscorthy in Albermarle County, Virginia.