Potus elect speech on victory

Great footage of a commercial fire

Nice story Gephardt

Close Encouters of the Ghost Kind

In preparing for this years “close encounters of the ghost kind”. I came across a story about a train school bus wreck. Most of the tales recount a school bus full of small children were killed somewhere in Texas. The story goes on how these ghosts actually help passers by in times of need. The story in fact comes from Utah and it was a bus of high school students on their way to school on a wintery morning in 1938. My wife and I did a little research and not only found the wreck site, but a memorial that speaks of it in the South Jordan cemetery. We found the graves of three Young women that perished that day. Many of the students graves can be found in multiple cemetery’s in the south west part of the Salt Lake valley. 

Rela Marie Beckstead, 15 years old, Helen Lloyd, 17 years old, and Lois Johnson 17 years old, all died on December 1 1938. Three young women that have for the most part been forgotten in time and history. You have to research to know their story. But their story is one that many have carried on in tales of ghosts and lore. Not scary ghosts but kind helping ghosts. You see not all ghost stories are scary. Here is a brief glimpse in to their tragic deaths.

December 1, 1938 Dawned as a snowy, Foggy, eerily quiet day. While a school bus headed through the dense winter storm towards Jordan high school, a loaded Denver and Rio grande freight train rolled north towards Salt lake city. At 8:43, near the railroad crossing at 10200 so and 400 west, the driver stopped the bus. He opened the door to look beyond the thick fog, but he did not see or hear the 80 + car “Flying Ute” train approaching at over 50 miles per hour. he sat back in his seat and pushed the gas pedal down, the buses rubber tire strained up the gentle grade and pulled slowly forward across the tracks. The Engineer and train crew could barely make out the bus ahead of them. the crew frantically applied the brakes, but the collision was inevitable. The wreckage of mangled bus left 23 students and the driver dead. 15 students survived the accident and most faced a lifetime of serious physical injuries and emotional scars. 

On Nov. 30, 1938, Wanda Sheels Naylor had planned to leave Jordan High School and spend the night at a friend's home. Wanda, now silver-haired and with delicate hands that trembled gently in the cool wind, said Monday that she and her friend would have ridden the bus back to school the next morning. It was something the teenage girls had done many times before, but when Wanda mother called, they gave up on the sleepover.

"My little sister got sick and my mother needed me at home," she recalled.

The last minute change-of-plans saved Wanda’s life.

The next morning, Dec. 1, the bus Wanda would have taken from her friend's home rolled to a stop at a railroad crossing at 10200 South and 400 West in South Jordan during the first snowstorm of the year. The bus driver opened his doors to look for a train but saw nothing in the thick fog. The driver pulled onto the tracks at 8:34 a.m.

At the same moment, an 80-plus car "Flying Ute" train emerged from the storm traveling more than 50 miles per hour. The engineers slammed on the brakes, but it was too late — the train plowed into the bus.

She waited at the old Jordan High School for her friend to arrive.

"They never came," Wanda recalled. "And I was inside because it was snowy. We went into the school and went to our first class, and the teacher was crying. Ms. Hawkins was her name. Then the bell rang very loud two or three times. They wanted all students in the auditorium, and that's when we were told of the tragedy."

The collision killed 23 students and the bus driver. Newspaper images of the accident show mangled metal twisted beyond recognition around the front of the freight train, which was operated by the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad.

Wanda knew everyone on the doomed bus.

The following poem was written by Naomi Lewis at the age of seventeen. Oddly enough it was penned the night before she died in the bus/train wreck.

Earth’s Angels.

 I like to think that the wind

Is Angles in the trees,

Stanley noble Angels

that no one ever sees.

When the world is peaceful

and people are living right,

They rustle the branches gently

throughout the entire night.

But when the world is wicked

Then sorrow bursts from the trees,

and it sounds like the wailing,

woeful hum

of hostile atrocious bees.

Buy in my imagining

It’s angels sorrowing in the tree.

At night they call a council

Of angels on the earth,

Each angel chooses a mortal

to guide to his preordained worth.

So I like to think that wind

Is angels in the trees

Stanley noble angels

That no-one ever, ever sees.

No one can tell you what their thoughts were that fateful morning. No one remembers what they were wearing, or what they had for breakfast that day. But if you go to the South Jordan Cemetery in Utah You can visit their graves, feel the peace, and if your lucky enough maybe they can help you. 

As my wife and I were leaving he cemetery, a gentle breeze picked up. It rustled the autumn leaves, and for a moment it felt as if they were there. Saying thank you for remembering, for coming. Walking to the car I said in my mind, thank you Naomi, Rela, Lois and Helen for allowing us to learn this bit of history and feel the comfort of the rustling branches.

The day after the day

Remembering…

September 12, 2016

Not long a go, well I guess that is relative. Fifteen years ago this morning, I woke with visions in my mind of a horrible , terrible act. Attacks here on American soil. The only problem was that it was not just a dream or vision. It had actually happened. I had seen the replays of planes crashing into the the trade center towers, the pentagon and also a field in central Pennsylvania. I don't know how many times I had viewed them, dozens perhaps hundreds, but the reply in my mind was constant. As a firefighter I had so many emotions and feelings coursing through me. I had a need to do something more than my day to day routine. Thanks to modern technology I, along with millions of other Americans, had been a front row witness to a cowardly attack, carried out by a group that had a great hate for what America stands for. Freedom, Liberty, Prosperity and opportunity. I was privileged to work with a group of men and women that became what we called the fallen fund. We would have a 30 plus day journey around our nation raising funds for the fallen families. But this story is not about that experience, It is about what we saw and felt as we traveled, how we were treated and in general how the people of this nation treated one another.  

It was an honor to have complete strangers, wave, walk up and give hugs, honk their horns and wave old glory in the breeze. Countless time we witnessed Flags painted on barns, flying from cars, and being held with great esteem, love, affection, and respect. Kindness melted away anger and bitterness. Negativity and frustration were changed to hope, and a feeling of common bond. The founding Fathers felt this same bond, for a time we knew what it felt like to be a true patriot. To esteem one another as American equals, regardless of color, religion, creed, or financial stature in the community. We embraced the principles of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. We believed in us. Unfortunately, the unity and bonds we felt faded with time. Much like a wound, when its fresh causes us to take care of the most important things to help it heal properly. As it heals we forget the pain and being to neglect it or stop thinking about it. Some things should be forgotten, but not the goodness, not the kindness, and definitely not the hope and values that America should have. We had a unique opportunity to strengthen and make America better and a beacon of light to the world. Instead we have reverted to anger, bitterness. We embrace the remembrance of decades even centuries old injustices and wrongs. We worry more about what over paid athletes, actors, and politicians say than what we know to be true. Our values and principles  have become clouded with smoke and mirrors and unfortunately darkness.

Its a funny thing about darkness and light. The other day I walked down the stairs in my house. As I reached the bottom step it was dark. I thought there was one more step to descend. I was wrong. As my foot hit the landing I stumbled and fell. Picking myself off of the floor and realizing I wasn't hurt became embarrassed and was grateful that no one witness my fall. I immediately turned on the light, which I should have done in the first place. As I have thought of this experience, I thought of our nation. I realized that much of the problems that we have as Americans and that we face as a Nation come from the perspective that we view things. Do we look at things from the perspective of darkness. Missing important obstacle and having a gloomy look or disposition of life. Or do we look at it from a perspective of light. Seeing pitfalls and solutions having a clear vision and positive outcomes. Remember light chases darkness away, and enhances vision, while darkness hides good and makes simple things more difficult.

So back to the beginning. Fifteen years ago today, I had a resolution in my heart and mind to do good. I remember that, and I hope I can do my part today to remember to do good, to lift, and to approach. things from the light and not darkness.

May God bless each of us as we move into the future, and My God bless America

Bravehaven,

Please remember. #343