Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Colonel

Yes, we have no clue where my Dad's Aunt Julia, often actually called Aunt Judy by some, found her rich colonel, perhaps some fancy shindig at the marine camp there or whatever. I was very young and do not remember anything about how she dumped her Oklahoma husband to marry the wealthy colonel who provided her with a huge house overlooking the Carlsbad Inlet (estero) and plenty of money to go cruising and traveling and whatever she wanted to do in her old age. So that's nice for them but I don't think our family ever benefited from Aunt Julia's colonel in any way nor did we ever imagine that we would ever get anything from them. It just wouldn't make any sense. My Dad's Aunt Julia, well, she has her four children to take care of and we are not one of them so obviously it means actually nothing much to us. If the colonel had not been there I am sure that the family would still have managed somehow to take care of great-grandmother who lived to age 100. Perhaps she would not have been so dependent on Julia without the colonel around to pay for everything but whatever. We never had a choice in that regard so we have nothing to say about that. Nevertheless, the fact remains that we are not a military family, with a few exceptions of course. We suspect that the colonel probably served in the Pacific side during World War II, judging from the photographs of places that look a lot like Guam that were left mixed in with the family's historical photograph collection. Nevertheless, it should not be assumed that my great-grandfather was ever in China doing military business. He was a missionary obviously, back in the 1910s and 1920s, not a soldier. He was originally a butcher by trade but killing cows is just not the same thing as killing people. There is a certain level of guilt involved in killing people as opposed to killing animals. Well, we do feel sorry for Bambi but, hey, we all like a good steak dinner, too. There is nothing wrong with being a butcher. It is an honest trade and supplies food on the table for many. However, my great-grandfather apparently felt called in some other direction after his Azusa Street experience and eventually they went to China and the rest is history. If you want to go back to butchering cows fine, go head, do it. We all like a good steak dinner, as I have said. However, we are not cows here. We are people and we do not appreciate being herded around as if mindless sheep. We have other ideas than yours. As God has said, my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways.