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May 12, 2009

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The Moon over Yusufiyah has a special glow tonight

By Greyhawk

Robert Stokely:

0900 11 May 09: Christell Pitts Stokely, born April 21, 1928 died at age 81 Piedmont Fayette Community Hospital.

No person has ever been born who did not have a mother,but I was fortunate to have a Momma and the best to say the least.

Chris Stokely was as sweet a woman as ever were. She was a devoted wife who did not work outside the home and was there for each of her children every day. But, she worked harder than if she had an outside job. Taking care of three boys who could find a lot to get into and prone to break a lot of bones along the way. I was youngest of the boys and our sister came eight years after me, completing my Mother. A fifth child, William Thomas Stokely, was an "unexpected' but happy pregnancy. He was born February 28, 1963 and died during child birth. In the years to come, his death would have been prevented with the invention of the fetal monitor which alerts doctors to the need to do a C-section when the baby is in distress prior to birth. I shall never forget holding his tiny hand in his tiny casket. Each February 28 Momma and I would spend time remembering William Thomas - it was our private bond, one which I think was ironic since it would be me who would one day bury a son. In another ironic twist, William Thomas Stokely was given the first name of my great great grandfather - William G. Stokely who was a SGT with E Company, Florida Cavalry in the Civil War. Even more ironic is that William Stokely (actually spelled Stokeley then) died as a prisoner of war in Federal custody at Camp Chase Ohio, two months before the Civil War ended. Mike Stokely was a Cavalry Scout with Troop E 108 CAV 48th Brigade Georgia National Guard and was KIA 16 August 2005 in Iraq. Broken hearts understand each other.


But, in all this, there were many many happy memories and much to be thankful for. Chris Stokely lived a full life, always making the best of it when times were tough. She was the best cook - I often said I would rather eat her food cold than anyone else's hot. She cooked for several years for the Wednesday night Supper at her church with 100 - 150 eating. A fresh home cooked meal prepared on her stove and served hot - I don't' know how she did it but she did. Folks signed up to come eat, even carrying out food. More came to eat than stayed for church - I guess they thought eating her food was heaven enough and no need to listen to the preaching that was to follow. The Church finally made it a rule you had to stay for the preaching if you came an ate. Attendance went up and Momma cooked for the church late into her sixties.

Momma was an expert seamstress - she could hand sew the finest fabrics with the most difficult hand cut patterns. She could look at a dress or gown in a window and make her own pattern. People traveled 40 miles from north Atlanta well to do neighborhoods - wealthy at that - to bring her fabric to make their custom to fit evening dresses and gowns. To say Momma was industrious and handy is an understatement. And her ability to bake and make desserts, especially her own recipe of Divinity candy - sorry so many of you all missed out!!!

Momma had heart and she had courage and she could make friends with anyone. She knew how to be tough in spirit without being rough on the spirit. She made boo boos better and made the scary sounds of a dark night go away. She was was funny and witty. Once while taking me and some of my friends for a baseball game to play another school she inadvertently turned down a one way street. A police officer happened to be right there and waved her to stop, telling her "M'am, did you know this is a one way street?" to which she replied with charm "I'm only going one way." The policeman laughed and given it was a quiet street and we were almost to the end just waved her on.

She buried her husband of 40 years when he was but age 62. In her late fifties, she had a lot to "figure out" since my daddy handled most of the money and business of the family. She came up to speed pretty quick and did right well for herself. You would think burying a son and husband would be enough, but then, she buried a grandson. August 16, 2005 it was tough to break the news to her of Mike's death in Iraq. But she handled it this way - from her wheel chair she reached up and pulled me to a hug and said with experienced loving confidence "Son, you'll make it, you will...." With full-time oxygen and other health problems she came to Mike's Memorial Service, sitting there for an hour and half up on a stage in front of a thousand people, and then greeting many afterwards. A few days later she demanded to make the 70 plus mile ride to go to Mike's funeral service, even to the graveside as hot as it was on August 27. A year later, as I went by to see her, she asked what I had planned for the rest of the afternoon. I told her I had my trailer hooked up and going to work on Mike's grave and plant new sod. She looked me in the eye and said "I am going with you - you might need some help." It was good to have her along that day and we talked as I worked. Two years later she rode in my brother's car as part of the 140 plus motorcycles and thirty or so cars that were part of the "Ride to Remember...." to raise $25,000 to endow the Memorial Scholarship in Mike's name at Georgia Military College. Then she helped host a BBQ lunch for 500 people after the ride, staying until everyone was served and full. Chris Stokely may have had sit down due to her medical problems the last few years of her life, but she didn't sit life out especially when time came to be there for her family, especially to honor and remember Mike.

Now, she is the first to see Mike again for our faith led us to believe that there is a God and there is a heaven and our faith in Jesus will re-unite us there along with William Thomas.

Sad but in a very sweet way, the Moon over Yusufiyah has a special glow tonight.....


Robert Stokely
lucky son of Christell Stokely and
proud dad of SGT Mike Stokely
KIA 16 AUG 05 near Yusufiyah Iraq
USA E 108 CAV 48th BCT


Posted by Greyhawk / May 12, 2009 7:28 AM | Permalink

1 Comment

We are very fortunate to have folks like Robert, for many reasons, but his way with words is a special gift.

Thanks for posting...even if it did make my screen go all blurry.

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November 26, 2010


America@war
[Greyhawk]
I think anyone who's ever pondered the "comment" option - once only available on blogs and bulletin boards, now ubiquitous on almost any web site - will appreciate this:
The so-called faculty of writing is not so much a faculty of writing as it is a faculty of thinking. When a man says, "I have an idea but I can't express it"; that man hasn't an idea but merely a vague feeling. If a man has a feeling of that kind, and will sit down for a half an hour and persistently try to put into writing what he feels, the probabilities are at least 90 percent that he will either be able to record it, or else realize that he has no idea at all. In either case, he will do himself a benefit.

That's wisdom from the past, captured for posterity at the US Naval Institute, shared via the web on the institute's 137th anniversary.

From their about page:

The Naval Institute shall remain

INDEPENDENT - A non-profit member association, with no government support, that does not lobby for special interests;

NON-PARTISAN - An independent, professional military association with a mission, goals and objectives that transcend political affiliations; and shall encourage

IDEAS - Through its respected journals Proceedings and Naval History, its conferences, its books and its online content, in support of those who serve.

"The Naval Institute has three core activities," among them, History and Preservation:

The Naval Institute also has recently introduced Americans at War, a living history of Americans at war in their own words and from their own experiences. These 90-second vignettes convey powerful stories of inspiration, pride, and patriotism.

Take a look at the collection, and you'll see it's not limited to accounts from those who served on ships at sea, members of the other branches are well-represented.

I'm fortunate to have met USNI's Mary Ripley, she's responsible for the institute's oral history program (and she's the daughter of the late John Ripley, whose story is told here). She also deserves much credit for their blog. ("We're not the Navy nor any government agency. Blog and comment freely.") We met at a milblog conference - Mary knew (and I would come to realize) that milbloggers are the 21st-century version of exactly what the US Naval Institute is all about. Once that light bulb came on in my head, I mentioned a vague idea for a project to her - milblogs as the 21st century oral history that they are.

"Put that in writing," she said (of course - see first paragraph above!) - and here's part of the result.

Shortly after the first tent was pitched by the American military in Iraq a wire was connected to a computer therein, and the internet was available to a generation of Americans at war - many of whom had grown up online. From that point on, at any given moment, somewhere in Iraq a Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine was at a keyboard sharing the events of his or her day with the folks back home. While most would simply fire off an email, others took advantage of the (then) relatively new online blogging platforms to post their thoughts and experiences for the entire world to see. The milblog was born - and from that moment to this stories detailing everything from the most mundane aspects of camp life to intense combat action (often described within hours of the event) have been available on the web...

And et cetera - but since you're reading this on a milblog, you probably knew that. And you know that milblogs aren't just blogs written by troops at war, that many friends, family members, and supporters likewise documented their story of America at war online in near-real time, as those stories developed.

The diversity in membership of that group is broad, the one thing we all have in common is the impulse to make sense of the seemingly senseless, and communicate the tale - for each of us that impulse was strong enough to overcome whatever barriers prevent the vast majority of people from doing the same. Everyone at some point has some vague idea they believe should be shared - we were the people who, from some combination of internal and external urging, found and spent those many half hours persistently trying to write it down.

*****

But where will all that be in another 137 years? Or five or ten, for that matter. That's something I've asked myself since at least 2004 - when I wrote this:

Closing Blogs is nothing new. So many site's owners just give up on their own. They come and go, you know, these MilBloggers do. Like any other sort of blogger. Many post in the lonely down hours far from home, spill their guts for the world, then abandon their spots when the tour of duty is up. They have lives again somewhere in the world, and no need to share the details. So it goes.

Many are truly gone - no site left at all. "The page cannot be found." Other blogs remain, like abandoned defensive positions in shifting desert sands.

Membership in the ghost battalion has grown in the years since, and an ever growing majority of those abandoned-but-still-standing sites are vanishing. Have you checked out Lt Smash's site lately? How about Sgt Hook's? If you're a long-time milblog reader you know the first widely-read milblog from Operation Iraq Freedom and the first widely-read milblog from Afghanistan are both gone from the web. If you're a relative newcomer to this world you may never even have heard of them - or the dozens upon dozens of others who carried forth the standard they set down.

If you have a vague notion that something should be done about that, (a notion I've heard expressed more than once...) then you and I and the good folks at the US Naval Institute are in agreement. Preserving the history documented by the milbloggers is just one of the goals of the milblog project, the once-vague idea that we're now making real.

And it's a big idea, if I say so myself - too big to explain in one simple blog post, so stand by for more. Likewise, it's too big a task to be accomplished by just one person. So if you're a milblogger (and exactly what is a milblogger? is a topic for much further discussion on its own) I'm asking for your help. All I'll really need is just a little bit (maybe just one or two of those half hours...) of your time, and your willingness to tell the tale.

We've already made history, it's time to save it.

(More to follow...)




Posted 4:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) |

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The Mudville Gazette is the on-line voice of an American warrior and his wife who stands by him. They prefer to see peaceful change render force of arms unnecessary. Until that day they stand fast with those who struggle for freedom, strike for reason, and pray for a better tomorrow.
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The Mudville Gazette is written and produced by Greyhawk, who recently retired from 24 years of active duty in the US military, but will maintain this disclaimer: Unless otherwise credited, the opinions expressed are those of the author, and nothing here is to be taken as representing the official position of or endorsement by the United States Department of Defense or any of its subordinate components.

Furthermore, I will occasionally use satire or parody herein. The bottom line: it's my house.

I like having visitors to my house. I hope you are entertained. I fight for your right to free speech, and am thrilled when you exercise said rights here. Comments and e-mails are welcome, but all such communication is to be assumed to be 1)the original work of any who initiate said communication and 2)the property of the Mudville Gazette, with free use granted thereto for publication in electronic or written form. If you do NOT wish to have your message posted, write "CONFIDENTIAL" in the subject line of your email.

Original content copyright © 2003 - 2011 by Greyhawk. Fair, not-for-profit use of said material by others is encouraged, as long as acknowledgement and credit is given, to include the url of the original source post. Other arrangements can be made as needed.

Contact: greyhawk at mudvillegazette dot com

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*****

Tending Distant
Fires


Far from hearth and home, watching
Cold alone but not alone
On distant shore and only wanting
Safe return and little more

What tales we'll tell
When that time comes
When tales can be told

When things grim
Seem far away
When other fires go cold

Some distant sunset, vision fading
Memories remain
And tired eyes gaze 'pon folded flags
While distant drums beat their refrain

Saluting fallen friends whose names
And youth will never fade
Here's to those on other shores,
for them live well, the price is paid

- Greyhawk,
Baghdad,
December 2004