Diario Del Infamoso

Success

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 18:37:49 -0700

From almost the moment I arrived in Missouri one question has inundated me from nearly everyone: have you had any success? Each time I am taken back; I don't know quite how to answer that.

Rewind to four months ago. School was winding to a close and it was becoming more and more apparent to me that I needed to make more money then I was currently making. Actually, that's painting a rosier picture than reality. I wasn't making any money. I had all but stopped taking substitute jobs because I found the demands of school too much to accomplish both work and study. This concerned me. I had obligations and I needed to move forward in my life. Being single is fun, but only in short distance. I was pulling a marathon. But how could I date if I didn't have enough money to even drive somewhere? The guilt of being 25 and still living at home weighed on me greatly as well.

Trying my best, I made it a matter of fasting, prayer, and dedicated thought. It seemed there was some sort of block. I wasn't getting any inspiration, it seemed every avenue was blockaded. Then it came.

After an institute class a friend of mine made an announcement about a summer sales job. It hit me like a lightening bolt. I felt so strong that I should go. I knew this is what I was supposed to do. Against my complete understanding that this kind of job is brutal, difficult, and mind-twisting I was filled with excitement.

As soon as school was over, I packed up my belongings and hopped on my Yamaha and rode out to St. Louis Missouri. The trip was 17,000 miles of empty space interspersed by extreme yet short moments of breathtaking beauty. I never thought I'd be happy to see Amarillo, Texas, but after the long haul through New Mexico and the Panhandle it was almost more than I could take to see buildings taller than one story. The promise of my initial paycheck of $600 dollars, which I would receive when I arrived, kept me going.

Miraculously I made it to my destination.

As it turns out, I didn't receive payment as I was promised. That money, or at least part of it, was supposed to go toward new tires for my scooter (they were worn out by the time the trip was done). Turns out I would only get it in two halves spread over a month. And by that time I had run out of money completely. Nevertheless I went to work. The days were long, starting at around 12:00 and ending at 9:00. For my first month I only made 4 sales. My roommates did better than me, yet still nowhere near what they expected. It was discouraging.

Through all this hardship a bond was growing. Mike, John, and Clint became like brothers to me. I'd known Mike and John since I was six, and Clint for a couple years yet I found myself closer to them. Vanessa and Ginger, I'd known a long time and it was great to have them out here with all of us. In short, these friendships were strengthened and I have learned something from each of them.

Walking door to door and street to street for eight hours a day gives your mind more time to think than normally allowed. During this time I felt an increased desire to be a better person, but not only better, but more clean and pure. I did not have any sins I had not repented of, but I began to understand that there was more I could do.

In the midst of this personal growth I took a dive. Literally. Into the asphalt off the I64 and the 270 freeways. Wrecking my scooter was an interesting experience to say the least. The result: Road Rash, Broken Glasses, popped front tire.

One effect was that I could not go out and sell. My left leg was so scratched up and scabbed over that I couldn't walk. Imagine having the most intense sunburn covering a good portion of your lower leg. Then take that leg to a cheese grater and go to work! That's about what was going on with my leg. Needless to say, it kept me form walking much. Worse, the doctor did not prescribe any pain medication so sleep became next to impossible.

Thankfully, a friend helped me out and was able to acquire a small prescription for me to help with the pain, which meant I could sleep. My leg is now all but totally healed (still a few scabs, but no big deal). I'm awaiting new glasses in the mail, which should arrive any day now. Soon enough I will be able to go back to work.

The time that I have spent recuperating has been one of learning. I've never received so much love and service from people for so long in my life. It felt downright uncomfortable for me at first. A friend getting me a book so i wouldn't be bored all day. Someone coming over just to make me dinner. Calls from friends and family. It was an outpouring. I'm sued to being the one who tries to serve. Quite frankly, in that role those things can never really be reciprocated in a totally equal way. That's ok. It's not why I do it. But this was a whole different experience to me.

Perhaps now it may seem evident to you why I have a such a hard time with the question of whether I had success out here. It entirely depends on how you measure it. If the measure is the fulfillment of my expectations to begin with, then no, it was failure. I will be far more in the whole and set back because of this summer than I could've imagined. However, it was never my idea to do this. I know that an infinitely knowledgeable and loving Supreme Being wanted this for me. I have learned more about who I am. I have had the privilege of helping people, and of developing relationships I would have missed out on had I stayed home. I treasure those people. I hold those experiences sacred.

Did I have success? I don't know. I know that I am glad I came here. I know that I will be glad to go home. I know life's only going to get tougher for me, but I trust that all will work for my good. I know that I was supposed to be here, but I don't fully comprehend why. There will be a time when I'm old and wrinkly and I'll look back on this time. I'll stop mid-thought and realize, "ahhh, that's why!" Until then, I'm satisfied to know I'm safe and loved.

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Here's The Storry

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 12:45:46 -0700

Bloody Helmet

Sitting all alone in my apartment in Missouri I really have nothing better to do than put down what actually transpired this past week. So many people have seen the picutres of my mutilated self and asked what happened. I really should've jsut blogged it in the first place, but from here on out I'll just refer everyone to this.

I was riding my scooter to the area I was supposed to be selling in. It was Tuesday afternoon. I remember passing Clint and thinking that I'd better stay ahead of him. I started the day brimming with confidence, feeling that it was gunna' be a good day. As I was preparing to merge onto the 270 North from the 64/40 I noticed my front wheel wobbling to an extreme. My handlebars seemed to ave developed a mind of their own and I quickly lost control of my scooter. I determined that my front tire had popped sp I tapped lightly and intermittently on the back brake so I could slow the scooter down and pull over. This had little effect on the sidewinder like rotation of my front half. I recall making a choice; either lay the scooter down on the shulder of the freeway, or risk riding face first into much faster traffic.

After that point I don't remember anything. I must have decided to lay the scooter down because I woke up in a hospital about nine hours later to a nurse informing me she would be pulling my cathater out and that it wouldn't hurt. That was a lie. Soon enough I gained some sort of conciousness and my friends, I realized, were in the room. We exchanged some jokes and I asked them what hapened. I remember some of the details of my stay at the hospital but it's all very blurry.

They wheeled me out and brought me home.

The only injuries I recieved are some severe road rash on my left leg and arms, Then a large burn/rash on my face with a delux cut over my left eye with some stellar stictches. I'm sure this'll become my super villan trademark scar in the future.

Right now I'm jsut trying to heal from the cuts and scrapes so I can go out and work. If I don't work I won't have any money, and it's gunna' take money to pay for the hospital and the trip back home.

Supprisingly little damage was seen on my scooter. It needs new tires and the engine's kill swith went off, so that needs to be fixed, but it looks actually alright.

Anyhow, that's the story thus far. Feel free to send care packages, books, drinks, ointmet or anything my way. Thanks to everyone who's helped out so much already.

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Caravan

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Tue, 06 May 2008 15:11:29 -0700

Caravan

Van Morrison

This is a great song.

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Why?

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 11:48:06 -0700

It's,

the way she laughs at her stupid mistakes,
the embarrassment on her face,

the way she will look straight down to her feet,
and her lips will part and collide with her cheek,

the way she tosses her hair out of her eyes,
and looking into them is gazing through the sky.

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Prayer and Answer

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 00:25:41 -0800

One day in deep contemplation I thought:

Spring will come,
The green, tender shoots will sprout
Up in anticipation of heavenly precipitation,
But they will all be disappointed,
Some will shrivel, wither and die,
While some will harden.
Summer will arrive, windy, hot,
Stifling and dry, none will make it,
But the tender shoots people care enough to water -- The loved ones will stay alive.

Then the Lord told me:

There is a gardener in this world,
Who's walked the rows,
Plowed the land,
And pulled away the weeds that choke,
But not only this,
He knows the toil of growth,
The trial of drought,
The pain of death.
He grew up before us
As a tender plant,
But there was no beauty that we should desire him.
Therefore he was plucked out, and yet,
He is still in his garden.

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A November Night

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 00:07:26 -0800

As we stand outside the theater,
A circle in the cold,
Hands in pockets, shivering,
Our breath comes out like smoke.
Our lines of sight run parallel,
We don't' see each other's eyes,
I'm feeling down, you turn around,
And start to say your goodbyes.
I realize maybe pain is good,
Better than feeling numb,
And second best to being loved
Is to know that you love someone.

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Goat Poem

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 23:52:58 -0800

José was a goat who lived in Mexico.
Unassuming, not at all unique.
So one warm spring day,
Towards the setting sun he would go.

Losing himself in the brown Oaxacan hills,
Out of sight, out of mind,
Venturing to fields he had never seen,
Eventually to fields of endless green.

Maybe it was the thrill, of new found grass, maybe,
Eating the same food was a crime.

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How to Eat a Reese's: General Authorities

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 11:09:46 -0800

Note: I received this by E-Mail a few years ago, but foolishly discarded it. It took me awhile to find ti again, but here it is, in all it's glory.

10. Paul H. Dunn

I remember back in WWII that I ate a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Back then, they were big enough to live on for a week. Being the only soldier to have survived the battle in my brigade, I really didn’t know If I could eat it or not, but I remember my fallen buddy’s words as he died in my arms: “Paul, if you just take one bite at a time you can tackle anything.” So I took that giant cup and, breaking it with the bat Babe Ruth gave me after I struck him out with two outs in the bottom ofthe ninth in the seventh game of the World Series, proceeded to wolf down the tiny morsels.

9. David B. Haight

Imagine 70 years ago on a rough road between Idaho and Logan. There were only Circle K’s, no 7-11’s. You had to bring your Peanut Butter Cups with you. Ruby and I split one for the first time in 1937.

8. Dallin H. Oaks

The Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup challenges us to consume. From the beginning there have been three steps in eating a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. First, remove the wrapper. This is best done quickly, by turning the cup over, grasping the outer fold and pulling away from the bottom. Second…

7. Joseph B. Wirthlin

When I was young I would sprint to the corner store, buy a Reese’s and run my hand through my hair before taking it down in one bite. These days I don’t sprint, and I have no hair, but the peanut butter cup remains.

6. Richard G. Scott

If you have not eaten a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, I plead with you. Eat one now. Enjoy the chocolate, the peanut butter. Do not delay. If you have thought, “That’s not for me,” I plead with you to reconsider. Of all foods I treasure, this one was the first.

5. M. Russell Ballard

The time has come when members of the church need to reach out to our friends and share a cup, a peanut butter cup. It is not enough to raise a chocolate bar, it must now have peanut butter.

4. Boyd K. Packer

In all my years, I have always eaten my Reese’sPeanut Butter Cups the same way—the established way we have been instructed to eat them. There is a far greater evil in this world, though—those who believe they can eat their cups in a way unconventional to the time-honored manner. We must be true and faithful and eat our Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in the customary and recognized approach as it has heretofore been established.

3. Neal A. Maxwell

I intentionally initiate the delicious design of the deglutition of a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup by nibbling a negligible nit of the culinary creamy cavalcade. It is exclusively through small entities that the great things are fabricated.

2. Thomas S. Monson

I remember I ate my first Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup when I was a tender lad of eight. My mother came up to me, and with a loving twinkle in her eye, asked, ‘Tommy, are you eating a Reese’s?’

And I would invariably smile up to her, ‘Yes, yes, I am.’

‘But Tommy, did you know that Sister Jensen next door hasn’t eaten a Reese’s Cup in years?’ My young mind thought upon the plight of my neighbor. Tears were shed. Hearts were gladdened. A cup was shared.

1. J. Golden Kimball

Hell, Heber, I’ll eat a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup any damned way I want!

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Here We Go Again: Why I Hate New Years Resolutions

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 23:48:37 -0800

This entry at the Freakonomics blog got me thinking, very late, about New Years resolutions.

I will be upfront and honest. I loathe New Years resolutions. They drive me bonkers. Here are several reasons for my unnatural distaste for these annual goals of hope:

People (myself included) hardly ever keep them past February
The fervor with which people adopt these resolutions seems to me akin to extreme Nationalism.

"Have you made any resolutions?" The subtle, yet effective and most frequent means of reinforcement.
"You don't have a resolution?! You need to make one!" The peer pressure here is more detectable.
"OK, everyone take your paper and right down at least one resolution." Conform or face social repercussions!

These resolutions are often rushed and insincere. I often make them up off the top of my head to avoid the ~~Spanish~~ Goal Inquisition.
More often than not I use New Years as an excuse to put things off.

I know I need to eat healthier, but it's almost New Year so I'll start then!

That all having been said, I don't hate goals. I'm not very good at them, and know I should do better. Goals are very important. When I'm making and keeping goals I'm progressing in life. When I'm not it's all to easy to flounder.

So here's my Non-New Years Resolution: I will take my time to decide on important goals for this coming year. I will not overburden myself with huge monumental aspirations, but simple, practical, and achievable goals.

With this in mind, I'm asking for the help of my friends, not because I want badly to please you, but because I realize the value of an outside perspective. So, what do you think I should work on? Are there things which you feel would make me a better, happier, more effective person? Perhaps it might help if I give you some categories. Here's another, marvelous, bulleted list:

Work
Education
Family
Religion
Health

For extra credit, you can see last year's resolutions here. Try and figure out if I kept any of them.

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Major Dick Winters: An American Leader

nobody@vox.com(Gdub) — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 11:20:22 -0800

Dick Winters

Winston Churchill once said, "To every man there comes in his lifetime that special moment when he is figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to him and fitted to his talents. What a tragedy if that moment finds him unprepared or unqualified for the work which could be his finest hour." (Hagen) Major Richard Winters of the 101st Airborne was prepared and qualified to participate in some of the greatest acts of American History. Like most war heroes, he did not love war. As he said, "wars do not make men great, but they do bring out the greatness in good men." (Winters, 291) What made Winters great was his willingness to lead, his love of his men, and his diligence.

Life Before War

Richard Winters was born January 21, 1918, in the heart of Dutch Country, Lancaster Pennsylvania. His parents were good, conservative, hard-working people. They taught him the value of hard work and discipline. Speaking of his mother, Dick Winters wrote, "In many respects she was the ideal company commander and subconsciously, I'm sure I patterned my own leadership abilities on this remarkable woman." (Winters, 5)
Richard attended Franklin and Marshall College, where he gained a great love for reading, the ability to study hard and to learn. When he wasn't working on school work [added for clarity] he was painting tension towers for Edison Electric. "Studies, work, and the ever-present lack of funds did not provide much opportunity for running around," he wrote (6). After graduating college, Richard decided to enlist in the armed forces. The new Selective Training and Service Act required each man to serve one year in the military. Richard intended to serve his year and be free from the military, avoiding war, and to return to the peace of his home in Pennsylvania.

Early Days in The Army

On December 7, 1941, just over three months after Richard Winter's enlistment, everything changed when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Winters knew he would not be in the Army for one year, but would remain until the war was finished. Distraught over the inadequacies and failures of the leadership he dealt with, and desirous to serve to the best of his abilities, Winters took the opportunity to attend Officers Candidate School (Winters, 8). After a few months Winters transferred to Fort Benning, Georgia. This is where Winters first saw the Paratroopers. Observing their fitness, discipline, and character Winters decided that he would join the airborne. Winters recalls, "[they] were the best soldiers at the infantry school and I wanted to be with the best, not with the sad sacks that I had frequently seen on post.(10)"
Graduating in July of 1942, Winters made his way to Camp Toccoa. There, he became a part of Easy Company. The time spent there, the intense physical tests, and the bonds built with his men all contributed to Lieutenant Winters' success as a leader.

A Home in England

    Leaving the United States behind, Winters and his company boarded a ship and set out for England. Winters arrived in Aldbourne, England, on a Saturday evening in September, 1943. Having spent so much time on a sardine-like sea vessel traveling across the Atlantic, and then finding himself in the same crammed conditions on base, Winters found the quickest opportunity to be alone: church services on Sunday. (Anderson, 2.)
    Adjacent to the church was a cemetery. Still wanting some time alone, Winters found a bench and sat down redundant. He noticed an elderly British couple standing at a grave. After a while they wandered to where Winters was and sat beside him. They spoke for a time, and then invited Winters to tea. Winters realized that the British people were required to ration their food and had already been warned about accepting such invitations, yet did not refuse their kindness (Ibid.).
    It was decided that the US Officers were too crowded in their living quarters . Some would have to board in town with families. The elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes offered to house Lieutenant Winters and Lieutenant Harry Welsh. Most of the men in Winter's company enjoyed going to the British pubs at night. However, Winters preferred to stay at home with the Barnes. This home was an important part of Dick Winters' stay in England. The day Winters had first met this family they were decorating the resting place of their son, a war casualty from the Royal Air Force. Said Winters, "They adopted me and made me part of the family. This helped me prepare mentally for what I was about to face." (Ibid.)

D-Day

    It was about eleven thirty on June 6, 1944, and Lieutenant Winters was in a plane with seventeen paratroopers. Colonel Charles Young was commanding the fleet of aircraft transporting the 101st Airborne. Although Colonel Young had extensive flight experience, most of the pilots he was commanding had only a few hundred hours in the air. This was their first combat mission. (Winters, 77) In a short time the planes were in the air, crossing the channel, and flying over France at 125 miles per hour. Suddenly Winters' plane was hit on it's tail. The green jump-signal light turned on, Winters yelled for his men to go, and he jumped out of the plane just as it was hit again. Flying through the air, now at 150 miles per an hour, Winter's leg bag came loose and was ripped off along with almost every other piece of equipment he had (79).
    Landing several miles off-target on the edge of St. Mere-Eglise with no gun and no grenades, Lieutenant Winters made his way to where he thought he could find his leg bag (81). As he started his search another paratrooper landed close by. Cutting the soldier loose from his chute and taking one of his grenades, Winters told the man to come with him. Though the soldier had a tommy gun, he was still weary of taking the lead, so Winters said, "follow me!" (81) And so Winters lead the way. He would continue leading for the rest of the war.
    Winters spent the rest of the day regrouping until finally receiving orders from Captain Hester. "There's fire along that hedgerow there. Take care of it," were all the instructions he received (83). Having his men drop all equipment save ammunition and grenades, Winters quickly conducted his own reconnaissance, crawling down the hedgerow. He discovered large, cannon-like guns firing onto causeway #2 of Utah Beach where the first waves of infantry were already landing. Winters placed two men with machine guns to provide covering fire, divided his men into two units, and moved down parallel hedgerows. Winters and his men took out the German's first gun, then used the trenches as a covered attack route. They destroyed each gun by explosives, or throwing grenades into their barrels. Not only did they destroy the guns, but Winters found a map, "showing all 105mm artillery positions and machine gun emplacements on the Cotentin Peninsula." (85) Major Winters never put his men in a more dangerous position than his own. He was willing to do his own work and lead from the front. Today this attack is known as the "Brécourt Manor Assault" and is still taught at West Point.

Winters

The Island

After Normandy, Winters and his company returned to England. It was September before they were called upon for another mission: the liberation of Holland. Securing a small bridgehead on the Rhine River, Winters and his company moved down a corridor on the southern band of the Lower Rhine known as "Hell's Highway." (Anderson, 3) "The Island was a flat agricultural area, below sea level. Dikes that were 7 meters high and wide enough at the top for two-lane roads held back the flood waters." (Ambrose, 141)

    It was a cold, rainy October, and Winters was assigned to relieve the British by covering a long front. Being stretched thin, Winters covered only the points he determined the Germans would most likely pass through and cover the rest of the line with patrols (Anderson, 3). All movement was done at night. During the day, the men stayed in their foxholes or in abandoned buildings (Ambrose, 141). It was the fourth of the month and earlier that night one of Winter's patrols had encountered enemies and was forced to withdraw [what night?].
    Taking some members from his first platoon who were in reserve, Winters went to the designated spot, gave each member of his squad a target, and called on them to fire, eliminating every target (Anderson, 3). Knowing that they were now on the German side of the dike, Winters and his men fell back into a shallow gully on the side of the road. He called for his reserve platoon, and after they arrived, went by himself to survey the rest of the Germans. His small band was the only thing separating these Germans from the rest of his battalion, and a straight, clear shot to headquarters. The German soldiers were also on a roadway embankment, which gave them advantage over his own men who were only in a shallow ditch. The Germans were also in an excellent position to outflank the patrol to the right (Ambrose, 147).
    It was now broad daylight. Winters reasoned that the only course of action was to make an attack because if they retreated they would become target practice for the Germans. If they stayed his platoon would be sitting ducks. Winters ordered the men to fix bayonets, and signaled when to throw a smoke grenade, the signal for a charge. [stopped here]
    Winters lead the charge. Recalling this experience of dashing across a 200 yard field winters wrote, "the men in the company are behind me, but they seem to be moving so slow. Nobody seemed to be moving normally, only me." (Anderson, 3) All along the field was barbed wire about the height of the soldier's shoes, however Winters could not be stopped. "Oddly enough I seemed to be floating more than running as I rapidly outpaced everyone else in the platoon." (Winters, 140) The Roadway Tapered and Winters jumped onto it. Three to four yards in front of him was a German Sentry on outpost with his head ducked down. Fifteen yards to his right was a solid mass of German infantry, two companies, also with heads ducked down, covering from fire. Winters was in their rear.
    Winters jumped back down off the road and threw his Grenade. It failed. Jumping back onto the road winters saw the German Sentry. "After all these years, I can still see him smiling at me as I stood on top of the dike. It wasn't necessary to take an aimed shot. I shot from the hip." (Winters, 141) This shot alerted the other Germans, and simply turning over towards them, Winters began shooting from the hip, cutting the men down. Winters had shot through two clips of eight rounds before the Germans raised their guns to fire at him, but the commotion he had caused made their shots ineffective. Rolling back down off the road, Winters loaded his third clip and finally saw the front of his platoon reaching him with most men still twenty yards away. He ordered his men to fire at will.
    It was a miracle, but Easy Company had defied the odds and beat the enemy. Facing upwards of 300 German soldiers, Winters, with only 55 men sustained 22 casualties. However, his men had killed 50 Germans, captured eleven, and wounded countless more (Winters, 146).
    This experienced further sealed the bond between Winters and his men. They honored him as a great leader, and he loved them for their talent and hard work; for their dedication. These words from a sergeant to Winters describe the relationship: "The things we had are damn near sacred to me." (Winters, 147)

The Rest of The War

Winters

    From Holland it was out of the frying pan and into the fire as Winter's and his men were sent into Bastogne Belgium, near the town of Foy. There, they held the line northeast of Bastogne in what later became knows as "The Battle of The Bulge." They held off elite German forces for a week before the US broke through the German line. Easy Company, once relieved, lead an attack on the town of Foy. Following this attack, Winters was made acting CO of 2nd Battalion, then was promoted to Major. Easy company went on to occupy Berchtesgaden, and capture Hitler's "Eagles Nest."
    With the majority of the Toccoa men gone, occupation life was wearing thin on Major Winters." I was bored, tired, sore, and looking for constructive ways to bide my time" Winters wrote (Winters, 245). He managed to obtain fourteen days leave to visit Aldbourne England, his home away from home (247). There he spent most of his time with Mrs. Barnes (Mr. Barnes had passed away). Winters stayed around the house, cutting the grass, gardening, or sleeping (Ibid). By this time Winters was done with war, and ready to leave for home.

Post War Life

    Major Dick Winters remained in Europe until the fall of 1945. It was November Fourth when he boarded the Wooster Victory at Marseilles France, the ship that would carry him home (254). Twenty Five days later, Major Dick Winters arrived at Indiantown Gap Pennsylvania, a few short miles from his home. By the next day the 101 Airborne was deactivated. Easy Company was no longer in existence (254).
    One of the first things Winters did was to go to the post office which housed the offices of the IRS. He insisted that he pay income tax on his military earnings. The man behind the counter told him that he did not have to pay, but Major Winters responded, "Sir, I want to pay my part of the bill. I am proud to be an American!" (255) This speaks volumes of the character of this man. It would not take a stretch of the imagination to see how a World War II vet would not feel he owed anything to his country, yet this man felt indebted to the Nation that provided his liberty, and his life.
    Dick Winters returned quickly to civilian life. Within two weeks he took Lieutenant Nixon's offer to work for his father at Nixon Nitration Works. He was payed $75.00 a week (256). In 1948 he met and married his wife Ethel (256). Desiring a home to settle down with his wife and children, Dick purchased a 106 acre farm along the foothills of the Blue Mountains. Renting the farm house to a young family, Dick began building a home for his family by hand, stone by stone. That is how great leaders and great nations are built. Stones hewn are broken and chipped away piece by piece. This process creates a structure made up of individuals, each custom-fitted, aligned by the hand of a man of vision with a chisel and patience.
    Major Dick Winters was one of the greatest American leaders, not because he did something outstanding, something different from any of the other soldiers in World War II, but because he saw where he fit and he endeavored to be changed to fit that niche. Like the stones which make up his home, Dick Winters was shaped by a force that did not want him to be a mountain or a pebble, but a piece of a grand structure; a structure to safeguard something special. The structure is our Nation. Of all people on the earth, we should be most grateful to live in a country founded and preserved by such men. One great lesson learned in all of history is how little people really do change. Therefore, we should not shirk our responsibility to become a strong part of this great building, to do some special thing.

Works Cited

Ambrose, Stephen E. Band of Brothers: E Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne From Normandy to Hitler's Eagle's Nest. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992.

Anderson, Christopher J. "Dick Winters: Reflections on the Band of Brothers, D-Day and Leadership." HistoryNet.Com. Aug. 2004. 1 Dec. 2007 <http://www.historynet.com/wars_conflicts/world_war_2/3029766.html?page=2&c=y>.

Hagen, Mick. "My Vision is in Good Hands." Mickhagen.Com. 8 Dec. 2007 <http://www.mickhagen.com/literature/article4.html>.

Winters, Dick. Beyond Band of Brothers:the War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters. New York: Penguin Group, 2006.

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