This is a powerful letter that holds much truth. Of course the news paper probably trasked it as soon as it was read. The truth sometimes hurts.
View original post 122 more words
This is a powerful letter that holds much truth. Of course the news paper probably trasked it as soon as it was read. The truth sometimes hurts.
View original post 122 more words
The opinion below is from a wise friend who is a Trucker named Marty Johnson. I think he has some good thoughts on solving the problems he points out about getting our goods from point A to point B. We all need to share the cost of fixing the problem at the city and state level.
Many years ago a community was built outside of Olympia, WA. where I lived. This community was built to accommodate an insurance company and its employees. The on and off ramps to I-5 were built by private, non-union workers, not associated with the state or federal government. The project came in under budget and sooner than expected. After telling Marty this story he shared some thoughts on costs of roads, and problems he saw facing America in the future
Here is what Marty had to say.
“In case anyone has missed it, I am an Over The Road truck driver. There is a lot of talk recently that there is a truck driver shortage. As with any job/career if there aren’t enough people to do a specific task, there is a shortage. Driving a truck or programming a computer or any job is dependent on how many people you can lure into the occupation to do that task. For instance, it is said that if the border is adequately controlled, there will be a shortage of people to harvest all of the crops that require people to do the work. At this point I would ask, if you paid what the job was worth, wouldn’t you get more people to apply and do the work? Of course, but the people that are shipping the products in trucks, or growing the crops would have to take a hit in their profits, or they would have to charge more for the products that they ship or grow, which would end up being paid for by everyone – THAT MEANS YOU AND I.
So that comes down to a couple of things, that are related. In a report by Morgan Stanley, they are predicting a shortage of 80,000 drivers by the year 2020. Let’s for a second ignore the driver pay and increase in food costs and look at the rest of the things that are affected by increasing the drivers so they can have our breakfast delivered to your grocery stores so there isn’t a FOOD shortage.
So now you have 80,000 new trucks, trailers and drivers on the road. How will the roads accommodate all that new traffic? Have you ever had to try to drive in Atlanta Georgia at any time during daylight hours? Again, I am a driver and know that if I attempt to go AROUND Atlanta, because trucks are not allowed through the city, you will have a delay that can be up to 4 hours because of traffic. Lets add more trucks to the existing traffic and what will be that outcome. Houston is the same, Chicago, Los Angeles, Dallas/Fort Worth, and most major metropolitan areas. I won’t even comment on NY City because I will no longer drive within 100 miles of that city. Let it be said that the traffic would be HORRIBLE.
Now let’s look at something that affects ONLY the truck drivers; and that is parking. We are very strictly regulated by electronic logs that can tell when you move the truck and if you disable the device, your company can tell and you are fired, so we can put that idea aside. Regulations require you shut down the truck for a period of 10 hours after a maximum of 11 hours of driving in a 14 hour period. Now you obviously have to park the truck. There is currently a MASSIVE parking problem to the point that you will soon see, if you don’t already, trucks parked on the on and off ramps to the freeways. That creates a traffic hazard for some persons that can hardly drive their cars straight in the first place. One glance away from the road, a tired moment and you will be slamming into a 40 ton truck.
So the problem is threefold.
1. We don’t have enough drivers to move the cargo that we need to move.
2. We don’t have enough roads to move the increased trucks if we find the drivers to move it.
3. We don’t have enough places to park the trucks once we find the drivers and roadways to move the cargo.
Focusing on the “Driver Shortage” is only one step of a 3 step process and everyone has been asleep on this issue. Now it’s time to look at it logically and NOT rely on the FEDERAL government to do it for us. The manufacturers and the STATES need to figure this out without making it a national issue.”
I Had to share this outstanding post from last year that I ran across. Read and see if it rings true. Not sure who the author is……………………………………………………………………………..
“US”. Why “we” defend Trump.
For 8 years “we” watched. When “we” disagreed with the way things were going “we” were called racist.
When “we” saw crime getting worse, and the administration blaming police officers, “we” were told “we” didn’t matter. When “we” felt a christian baker had a right to not make a cake for someone he disagreed with, “we” were called homophobic. When “we” were concerned about terrorism “we” were called racist. Well “we” have had enough, and “we” voted for Trump.
“We” were called deplorable, uneducated, and white trash. But what “we” really were was tired. Tired of watching our country lead from behind, tired of watching crime and drug use rise, tired of working so damn hard and getting nowhere, tired of paying so much and getting so little for health care insurance.
So “we” wanted change.
“We” wanted to see our country great again. “We” want to make our own decisions about healthcare and “we” don’t want to pay for anyone else’s birth control. “We” want someone who takes no beloney. “We” want a strong leader.
And when you insult him you insult us. So “we” stand behind him. Because he is standing up for us!
This blog is based on my experiences and opinions.
It sure makes interesting reading… particularly coming from a noted Pakistani. By: Dr FarrukhSaleem
The writer is the Pakistani Executive Director of the Center for Research and Security Studies, a think tank established in 2007, and an Islamabad-based freelance columnist.
Why are Jews so powerful?
There are only 14 million Jews in the world; seven million in the Americas , five million in Asia, two million in Europe and 100,000 in Africa . For every single Jew in the world there are 100 Muslims.
Yet, Jews are more than a hundred times more powerful than all the Muslims put together.
Ever wondered why?
Jesus of Nazareth was Jewish. Albert Einstein, the most influential scientist of all time and TIME magazine’s ‘Person of the Century’, was a Jew.
Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis was a Jew…
View original post 1,307 more words
On Valentines Day of 2019 our family suffered a great loss. Colby Scott Allen Sackett was my first cousin’s grandson, who lived in Alberta, Canada. He was coming home from boarding school to spend a long week-end with his parents and younger brother. He was killed in a head on collision. It was his eighteenth birthday. I am putting memories of the memorial, and words shared from his two grandparents, his parents, and his brother, on and around the time of the memorial, and after. This is my tribute to keep his memory alive for future generations of my family. With deep love and sadness I offer this blog to the world as well ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
This first offering is Scott Sackett, Colby’s dad, referring to the poem his dad, Glenn Sackett, read at the Memorial………….
Here is the poem my dad read at Colby’s memorial service. I’ve never been much for poetry, but I’ve read this one everyday for the last week and a half and it helps my heart. It’s ok if it’s not your thing, it wasn’t my thing two weeks ago either.
ON THE DEATH OF THE BELOVED
Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.
Your love was like the dawn
Brightening over our lives,
Awakening beneath the dark
A further adventure of color.
The sound of your voice
Found for us
A new music
That brightened everything.
Whatever you enfolded in your gaze
Quickened in the joy of its being;
You placed smiles like flowers
On the altar of the heart.
Your mind always sparkled
With wonder at things.
Though your days here were brief,
Your spirit was alive, awake, complete.
We look toward each other no longer
From the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
As close to us as we are to ourselves.
Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul’s gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.
Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows,
And music echoes eternal tones.
When orchids brighten the earth,
Darkest winter has turned to spring;
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.
May you continue to inspire us:
To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation,
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind,
And where we will never lose you again.
From Colby’s Dad…………
Oh, Dear Family and Friends,
I’ve started this post a thousand times in the last few days…
Our hearts are broken to pieces with the loss of our dear son and brother, Colby. He was such a beautiful, vibrant piece of our lives. We love that kid.
But even as the waves of sadness have threatened to engulf us in despair, we are buoyed by our faith in the Almighty, our love for Colbs, and the overwhelming kindness of our families and communities.
If I’m honest, it’s a kindness that I never wanted to see, because it’s magnitude can only be seen, felt, and understood in the darkest of places, but we are so indescribably grateful to all of you in this time of sorrow.
Our dear friends who have dropped everything to be by our sides and the army of you that have offered us anything we need and meant it from the bottom of your hearts. Our families, near and far, who share our grief and hold us up. The prayers sent up by family and friends and the kind words shared with us through so many avenues. Our church families who have given so much of themselves to make sure we’re cared for. Our school families who have jumped in to take away any burden they can. The generous souls who have donated time, effort, tears, money, food, and love to help us grieve for and honour our son. And the stories…
The stories have been my lifeline…thank you so much to all of you who have shared with us what Colby meant to you and how you remember him. Reading those helps me with the daily battle to think more about his life than his death. To remember all the wonderful time I spent with my amazing boy. All the fun we had, all the adventures we shared, all the things we learned from each other, that constant smile on his face and his infectious enthusiasm for life. It is so painful to think of life without him, but how much richer am I for those 18 precious years that I spent with him? I wouldn’t trade them for the world. So to every single one of you who has cared for us in a multitude of ways in these past few days, I owe you a debt I will never be able to repay. Thank you.
Kerry and Jaxon have been so courageous and strong through all of this, but we know it will be a tough few days ahead, followed by a tough few weeks, and years, and decades…but we are strengthened by the promises of our saviour and the amazing people who have surrounded us with love. Thank you for all that you have done and will do to help us move to the place where our happiness about our time with Colbs outweighs the sorrow of living without him.
From Colby’s mom………..
A Tribute to My First Born❤️
To My Sweet Boy,
Colby, you were the baby I longed for, you were perfect in every way. Your big blue eyes, your soft skin, and your snuggly ways. I believe I held you for the entire first year of your life. You were my pride and joy. You grew into a big brother, with a love for your Jax like no other. My greatest happiness was watching you boys play in the sandbox or swimming pool in the backyard of the school-house, or on the giant snow piles Grandpa and Ewalt made you. I remember driving in the minivan and turning around to see you both sleeping and holding hands. You were each others best friends and my heart was full.
As the years passed, the sleeping while hand holding did too, but in its place, a deep love and respect for each other. Your adventures changed, but the love, joy, and the spark did not. Everything you did, you did with all your heart.
As you continued to grow you became a peace maker, a planner, and a leader with a joyful spirit that made others want to follow. Yet all the while still protecting and caring for your baby brother. When Jaxon was diagnosed with celiac disease, you were his keeper, making sure no one used his peanut butter, jam, or toaster.
Colby, you were my sunshine and my joy. And now when I go to town, people will quietly think to themselves, “There’s THAT poor lady who lost her son on his birthday”.
But Colby, what they won’t realize is I certainly am THAT LADY, THAT LADY who held the most wonderful and perfect boy in her arms for 18 years; and I will be THAT LADY who holds you in my heart until the day I die.
I am THAT LADY, blessed among all women.
Till I see you again, my sweet, my love, my Valentine.
From Colby’s younger brother……….
Jaxon’s Tribute to his Big Brother ❤️
I don’t need to stand up here and tell you what an amazing person my brother was. Each of you are here today because you knew Colby, that means you knew exactly how much joy he brought to a conversation. And if you didn’t know him, I couldn’t put into words what an exceptional person Colby was. When I was looking through photos to make the video tribute to Colby, i was worried that, all the memories and feelings that were tied to them would be too much for me. I thought I would break down and just cry. But, as I started going through them, I realized it wasn’t as sad as I had imagined. In fact, I found myself laughing, and sharing memories with all the people who were around me. Looking at old photos and videos of Colby, has brought me the only true feeling of fulfilling, unashamed joy, that I have experienced in the darkest days of my life.
These images hold only a small fraction of the true happiness that I felt during that time. But somehow, even the mere reflection of those times were enough to eclipse this darkness that I have never felt the likes of before. This is just a testament to the way adventure and happiness would follow Colby. Virtually every Photo I have of him is tied to some adventure I had with him. Lots of which were excursions that Colby brought the Three of us on with him. And I will forever hold these camping trips and expeditions in my heart.
But the most precious of these memories, are the ones that I will selfishly have all to myself. The ones that are exclusive to me, and me alone. The kind of memories that only his brother could cherish. Every snow fort we built, and how he would always make sure I was not only included, But ranked higher than his older friends, in the snow fort hierarchy. Every mission that we went on to save our stuffed animals from whatever peril we imagined them to be in. Every ride we took together; whether it be in our imaginary car, or on the little dirt bike, or in his car. Every song we listened to together, every card trick that I would try to fail on him. Every superhero movie trailer that I would force him to watch. Even the days that I was bored and I would come into your room and just sit, because your presence seemed to shun all boredom. And the videos. The last year or so of your life we made so many videos. These silly “how to” videos that we would post on instagram, mean more to me than anything else on this planet. From filming a video about snowboarding in mid July, to editing one about surviving in the wild as a vegetarian, creating these videos was the highlight of my week. The activity I loved to do most in the world.
I was not ready for him to leave, I am not ready to face the world without my brother. And I will never share the same bond and love with anyone else. These menial, everyday things we did, are the things that I will miss most in life. But the memories are also the only things that will get me through these miserable times, and how I Know that you are simply resting, and won’t have to deal with any of the pain and suffering this world brings. You will wake up and see your Lord and saviour. I will see you again on that day when Jesus comes, and on that day I will finally be whole again.
From Donna Sackett, one of his grandmothers. This picture shows Colby’s resting place
I love history. Not just the facts, but the stories behind the facts. The people. The stories of the people make up history—not just the famous (and infamous)—all of our stories make up our history.
I love walking old cemeteries, looking at ancient, and not so ancient, tombstones; wondering about the stories behind the facts. Sometimes the tombstones leave a clue: “Beloved Wife,” “Our Darling Boy”—Scott broke his leg on that one when he was two. I’ve heard it described as so many stories in the “dash”, that little line between the date of birth and date of death. So much history in the dash.
I stood at my grandmother’s grave in a small country cemetery and looked across the rolling hills. I could see the green roof of my grandparents’ farmhouse. Five generations of my family are buried there. The dashes include a Civil War veteran, a camp cook who adored children, a high school football star. The farmhouse is gone now, and that little cemetery is surrounded by the neighborhoods of southeast Arlington, Texas.
Next to the Beiseker-Levelland Seventh-day Adventist Church in Alberta is a small country cemetery. Many of Kerry’s ancestors are buried there. So is Sam McGee (Google “The Cremation of Sam McGee” sometime). I have walked that cemetery many times in the past 20 years looking at the names—the same last names as friends from Union College who were from North Dakota. I learned from Kerry’s dad many of their stories included escaping religious persecution in Europe and starting over again in North America. Some settled in North Dakota, while other family members travelled on to Alberta. Never, ever, ever, ever did I think I would be walking that cemetery to visit the grave of my grandson. So many stories in the dash that is eighteen years long. So much life. So much joy.
Those dashes—some are short; some are long. My twin sisters’ dash in the Texas cemetery spans only two days. Kerry’s grandma’s dash in Alberta spans ninety-nine years. Every dash is a story. Every dash is important. It’s important for us still here. Our stories are part of history, too. And oh, how I long for the day when the dashes have no end, but continue on for eternity.