Before He Ran for Sheriff

You want the dirt on AJ Benefield, well here it is. I have known him since he was born and I have just a few stories I think you will enjoy.
First, I recognize there are two sides to every story, but I feel no obligation to tell both sides. This is a big brother's view of growing up with AJ (BUB for most of those years) Benefield. I am reliving a number of these stories because I have two sons who are just like us. Jay Allen has my personality and James has AJ's. I am never far from my childhood adventures because of that.
Going back to the early days, AJ and I got along really well, especially when he did what I told him. We didn't ever fight in anger that I remember, but we still managed to incur several scars and broken bones from our upbringing.
Growing up, our parents carried AJ and me to the creek every now and then. We both enjoyed going, but I enjoyed swimming around in the water and AJ enjoyed throwing rocks into the water. This seems like a good mix since AJ was a little younger and probably shouldn't be in the water by himself, but AJ failed to refrain from throwing rocks in the water while I was in there. To this day, I remember raising up and seeing AJ in the final stance of a throwing motion and wondering where the rock went when, "WHAPP!" The next thing I saw was my ten toes gaining altitude as my head rocketed backwards just a little slower than the stone that had hit it. That was the first time I remember being knocked out, though it was only for a second because the ice cold creek water instantly revived me. I raised up staggered and put my hand to my head and found that my forehead and nose were bleeding like a horror show slasher had carved his initials on me. I know AJ is not proud of almost killing me, but it was a good throw. I still have the scars from that rock on the bridge of my nose and the top of my forehead. They are listed as distinctive scars in my medical records, even. And that nonsense about me holding him under water before this happened is just a cover - don't believe it.
Though I honestly don't remember holding AJ underwater as mentioned above, I do admit to chunking a sharpened piece of bamboo across the yard and accidently pinning him to the ground by his elbow. You can judge for yourself if that accidental spearing or some other small trauma from childhood motivated AJ to seek payback on his older brother.
One of the most short lived periods of our childhood was the time we owned a go-cart. When AJ and I were nine and thirteen, my dad bought us a go-cart. We unloaded it from the truck and cranked it up and decided AJ would ride it first by himself. It did have two seats, but since it was technically his, this seemed fair and appropriate. He started out OK, but kept gaining speed and making tight left hand turns in the yard when we lived beside Pine Grove Church. On the third lap, he was yelling, "I CAN'T STOOOOOOOOOP!" with full Doppler effect. The accelerator spring came off while we were unloading the go-cart and he was stuck on this Winston Cup wannabe going wide open in slick grass that kept the brake from working. My dad and I ran behind the go-cart like two dogs chasing a car and kept trying to disconnect the spark plug to stop him. This go-cart was too fast to catch on the straight of way, so we had to run into the turns and lunge at the spark plug wire. I can't remember which of us got him stopped, but I remember the spark plug shocked me so badly that I said some words that I didn't know the meaning of until I joined the Army. AJ says I tampered with the accelerator on purpose, but I have my suspicions that there was really nothing wrong with it - he just wanted to see how fast my dad and I could run.
Despite the rough start, AJ and I loved that go-cart. We got that thing tuned up and waited beside the church for Mr. Weathers to come home from work in his pick-up. Mr. Weathers never drove very fast, so we thought we should race him. We jumped into the (wrong side of the) road and raced him to the corner where the Ledbetters live. We were doing great until our dad came around the corner and saw us tearing down wrong side of the road together in that thing. That was AJ's first high speed chase and our last ride on that go-cart. In true Benefield fashion, we painted it and gave it to one of our cousins as if it were new (hope that doesn't crush you, Darryl).
I've already shared my first broken nose experience with you, but the second was much simpler. AJ was trying to make me blink by acting like he was going to hit me. I was not blinking and actually stepped toward him to call his bluff. Unfortunately, when I stepped forward, he didn't adjust his range and landed a solid jab right on the end of my nose. To his horror, I did not blink when he landed this punch, either. I stared at him with the look of, "Is there any doubt you are about to get a whuppin'?" I remember the wide eyed look on AJ's face and then the super human yell that he let loose next, saying, "MOMMMMMMMAAAAA!" Our momma dutifully rushed in to save the baby of the family and my eyes did eventually start to water as again, AJ had broken my nose. This time resulted in the hump that is now visible right in the middle of my nose.
I have to admit that AJ did suffer some broken bones growing up, too. Neither one of us are going to come out looking like a rose from this next story, but we are grown Christian men now who look back on that part of our lives as the time we were, "building our testimony." AJ made some comments about my intentions toward a particular young lady that I found to be inappropriate and inaccurate(the comments were actually pretty innocent remarks about kissing if I remember correctly). I would share her name with you for accuracy's sake, but I am pretty sure she is one of my Facebook friends and is happily married, now. Sorry that my description doesn't exclude more of you, but that is sort of the idea. After the offensive remarks, I charged AJ and threw him to the ground. He got up, retracted his comments, and appeared to be fine. Two days later, his arm was purple and swollen. I finally agreed to let him go tell our parents that his arm was hurting, but not before we cooked up a cover story as to how it happened. Our cover story really wasn't that good and my parents really didn't buy it, but I got off fairly light. Not as light as AJ did for my two broken noses (NO PUNISHMENT), but light enough that I don't remember the punishment.
This last story intersects with my adult life and is classic AJ. Many of you have seen reference to it, but don't know the full context. While I was in college, Cammie and I were at my parents' house and having probably the worst fight in the history of our relationship (which was pretty minor by fight standards). Cammie was as mad with me as she had ever been, but not so mad that she didn't try to act civil when AJ walked in. He had no idea we had been fighting and cruised into the kitchen exchanging quick greetings with us. He yelled from the kitchen to ask if we would like some Eggnog. He got a curt, "NO," from me, but Cammie said she would like a glass. He brought her a glass, but it wasn't Eggnog, it was buttermilk. Cammie turned up that buttermilk and wrinkled her face up and then SHE said some words I didn't know the meaning of until I joined the Army. She mumbled more words I can't post, started crying, and walked out and slammed the door. No kidding, AJ looked at and said, "GOLLLEEE! I didn't know she'd get that mad." I should have let him think that was all on him, but I confessed to the fight and let him off the hook.
Those are just a few of the highlights fit to be printed from our youth. We only had three channels on television, but with AJ as my brother, the best entertainment was never on television anyway.

When can guys shed tears in public

It's not manly to cry. If it were, then there would be lots of film footage of John Wayne, Bear Bryant, or Tom Landry crying. It is acceptable for men to shed tears in public in some circumstances, but an emotional outburst of crying is no better than a temper tantrum and is just not acceptable. I thought after all the debate about Tim Tebow's PDAT (public display of alligator tears), that somebody should differentiate acceptable male tear shedding from unmanly crying. I know crying is not the worst thing a person can do and I have had my share of public temper tantrums, so this is not pious judgment of anybody who has broken these rules, but it is an attempt to have a little fun while reinforcing the notion that men should be manly and should make every effort to show self-control.
Ten occasions when men can shed tears:
1. The passing of a loved one or fallen comrade
2. When you share the pain of a friend
3. Farewell to your band of brothers (your military unit or team mates on a sports team)
4. The birth of your children or grandchildren
5. A significant event in the life of your children (such as acceptance of Christ, baptism, marriage or acceptance into the University of Alabama - tears of pride are acceptable )
6. A promotion, award, or other such honor that is truly humbling because of all the nice things said about you (whether your dad is in prison or not)
7. One of your children enrolls in college at Auburn (or Florida or maybe even the University of Georgia if you are an LSU fan - disappointment and despair can hardly be contained in this case)
8. Your parachute opens in a manner that is going to cause you to sing soprano
9. Public viewing of Old Yeller (of course this is inclusive of the passing of your dog, which the movie doubtless reminds you of)
10. Somebody crashes into your car (the one the man drives, not the minivan) that you either just bought or have owned more than 15 years

The list of ten acceptable tear shedding occasions covers almost all of them, but I am going to list a few of the many occasions when it is NOT acceptable for a man to shed tears, have a trembling crying fit, or any other public outburst of emotion.

1. The buffet line closes before you get there.
2. You just realized you have gained over 20lbs since high school.
3. Your favorite team traded your favorite player (it is acceptable to question the intelligence of the team's management, though)
4. You lose in an athletic competition (yes, this is the one Tebow broke)
5. You break a bone or are physically hurt in a way that does not involve blood or bullets
6. You are colder than Eskimo ice cream (it is acceptable to cry if this causes you to have to get naked and get belly to belly with a male friend in your sleeping bag)
7. Your favorite NASCAR driver crashes at Daytona, but is ok
8. When the flying monkeys get after Dorothy or when the werewolf chases the vampire in Twilight series
9. When your last single friend gets married (at least not in front of your wife)
10. When your favorite sports team (to include your child's little league team) loses.

Those are the rules from Alabama. You can amend them as you see fit, but the spirit of these rules should be honored. As I said in the beginning, I may have violated the rules once or twice, but I had good friends who held me accountable. Now, you are empowered to likewise hold your friends accountable!

A Date for Married Folks

Cammie and I tried to combine an appointment with our financial adviser with a day date in DC this past Monday. It was fun, but not exactly as planned.
First, our appointment with the financial adviser went extremely well. Cammie and I have gotten so good at fighting about money that we don't have to actually fight. We got down to two fights a year for a while and now, I just point out the issue and ask if the fight is necessary. Most of the time, it is not. Cammie did ask if Jim had praised me in the previous meeting with him for saving money on clothes and my car, but I took the slight in stride.
Jim analyzed all our finances and let us know that many of our investments were stinkers and moved our money around. He also analyzed our insurance and decided that Cammie was under-insured and started explaining why she needed more Universal Life. I don't remember anything else he said, but when he got to the part about Universal Life paying for somebody to help her if she could no longer dress herself, I said, "We'll take it!" I don't want to seem unloving, but I can not imagine a more demanding task than dressing a woman who tries on six outfits prior to leaving the house each day. I did not know there was insurance available to make sure I never had to do that for her, but now that we had a chance to buy it, I could not hesitate!
After we left Jim's office, we went to lunch using one of our Christmas Gift cards. This is the second mention of gift cards we received and I think I should go on the record and say that I may have fouled up the gift exchange plan this year. I made contributions to World Vision for our family members, but they mostly sent us gifts. I am afraid we did not coordinate this like we should have, but at least I didn't donate to the "HUMAN FUND" in their names (George Costanza reference for you younger folks). There still may be an airing of grievances, though. That is on me, so all future gifts to the Benefields can be World Vision donations from now until eternity. Despite the possible gift exchange faux pas, we enjoyed a very peaceful and tasty lunch - thank you Steve and Sabrina.
We left lunch and started downtown to visit the American History Museum and the Botanical Gardens. There were many people who had similar plans. The National Gallery of Art, Smithsonian National Museum of American History and the Botanical Gardens all had lines hanging out of them representative of a convoy of clown cars and tour buses emptying out. Thus, we ended up leaving downtown DC and driving back to Herndon to see Avatar, the spiritually confused film with the freaky blue people.
I know the special effects in Avatar were spectacular, but as Charlie Daniels told us, the Devil plays a pretty mean fiddle, too. I am going to be in the minority when I say this, but Avatar is a dark and evil movie that substitutes emotions for truth and elevates tree worship above worshiping God. If you think its just a movie, then I would recommend you see The Passion of the Christ just before you see Avatar so you will at least have seen the truth first. Just so everybody knows that I was not the only one, Cammie was also deeply disturbed by this movie. I thought having a wounded warrior Marine as the central character might salvage the movie's political message, but its message went beyond political into some very dark spiritual themes that could not be salvaged if John Wayne himself had starred in it. Hollywood is going to fall into the ocean soon if Avatar is typical of their worldview and Sodom and Gomorrah is any indicator. I am still waiting for all the war movies about Iraq and Afghanistan that tell the story of all our brave warriors who have shed blood to liberate millions and protect their homeland. Not many movies about God and Country these days, I guess.
We returned home from our date and played Wii with the kids. Despite our wasted time downtown and the disturbing movie, we still had a good time and I can rest easy knowing that I won't ever have to dress Cammie if she is not able to do that herself.

Gettysburg (rated - whatever tells you I am going to pass on things my kids said)

The Benefields were due a family outing, so I began mission planning for a trip to Gettysburg. Our failed attempt at a date down town reinforced the need to plan everything here, so I pulled up the Gettysburg tourism site, http://www.gettysburg.travel/visitor/attractions.asp, and starting planning my fanny off.
We started off with two major disadvantages. The first disadvantage was that 50% of the sites were closed seasonally (NOV-MAR is not good for touring Gettysburg). Another 20% were closed because it was Wednesday, but we still managed to identify several sites of interest that made the trip worthwhile. An Eisenhower Christmas, the Battlefield, a covered bridge, several scenic tours, and Mister Ed's Elephant Museum made the final cut for planning!
I don't want to say that I have been grumpy and short with my family lately, but Cammie actually confronted me on the way to Gettysburg for being in a good mood! She asked me if I was taking drugs, but I never figured out if she asked out of concern for my health or if she just wanted access to my stash. I was not chemically altered, but I did threaten all the kids with the worst punishments I could imagine if they did not behave well on this trip. Just knowing they were sufficiently scared straight put me in a better mood.
We got a bit of a late start and had to make a McDonald's stop for the kids and a Taco Bell stop for Cammie and me in Leesburg, VA. Drive thru at McD's and I walked in at Taco Bell just across the street. While waiting for my order, an older lady, who could have been Barbara Bush, struck up a conversation with me (in English) and we became fast friends. She was completely amazed at the efficiency of the Taco Bell staff and acted like she had never been inside one before. I had to admit that I was impressed to see three different customers complain and see the Taco Bell crew handle all three complaints exceptionally well, In all three cases, the customers were in the wrong! I have never seen that before, but they let them off the hook easily and rapido, por favor.
With semi-full bellies, we pedaled on down the road to Gettysburg and arrived at 8 Lincoln Square with completely full bladders. We had to make a bathroom stop at the Subway just off the square before starting our tourist activities. The boys broke out in one of their anatomy discussions while we waited for the girls. Jay Allen wanted to know why it took the girls so long - was it because they had to wipe? In the middle of Subway, he went on to explain to James that boys have penises, but girls have Chinuses. Some of you may remember that after watching Kindergarten Cop, the boys told me that boys have peanuts and girls have Chinas. They have figured out the terminology for male anatomy, but obviously believe that the plural of China is Chinuses. James was now pointing to his man parts, going "Yeah, boys have penises." Cammie emerged from the lady's room with Carlie to find me laughing semi-hysterically (still no drugs involved, I promise).
After all the anatomy talk, we had to escape Subway through the back door and find the starting point for all our planned tours. We walked around the square and failed to find the correct address (8), so I volunteered to duck into the Cigar shop and ask directions. When I broke the front door open, I was overcome with the sweetest smelling cigar smoke you can imagine. I was so distracted that I did not notice the Pit Bull who charged James and attacked him relentlessly - with slobbery sugar! That was the most affectionate dog I have ever seen and James loved him! The Cigar Store owner gave me directions to all the tourist attractions between pulls on his very fine cigar and sips of his Bourbon. All three seemed to be in perfect balance, but I only partook of the second hand smoke and the directions. He was very proud of his town and rightfully so. I think we could have spent a week in Gettysburg, but alas, we had only one afternoon. The cigars and Bourbon would have to wait.
After stopping briefly at the Wills House (where President Lincoln stayed the night before the Gettysburg address) to snap a picture with a statue of Abraham Lincoln, we headed on to the Gettysburg Museum. There were many options there, so I had to go to the information desk for help. I pointed to Cammie and the three kids and asked what would be the best choice to entertain those people for the rest of the afternoon, keeping in mind that we were going to stop by Mister Ed's Elephant Museum on the way home. First, the Park Ranger behind the desk had to make sure I knew that Mister Ed had more Elephants than anybody could possibly enjoy or even endure and the only attraction there was the candy, which we could buy at the nearest gas station. Ok, Ed was out. After sizing up our family, she recommended a Museum tour and a Battlefield driving tour. I think she was dead on!
James did mistake the museum for a playground and ran around simulating riding a horse or flying in an airplane the whole time. Strangely, the sound effects for a galloping horse and a speeding jet plane are the same for James and both involve spraying almost as much slobber as the friendly pooch in the cigar shop did. Gettysburg's Museum is truly awesome and I didn't get to take in but a fraction of it, but we are going back!
A quick aside - this is my second attempt to see Gettysburg that has fallen short. In January of 2001, I had worked with Trevor "Guppy" Hill to plan an actual Airborne operation that would drop modern paratroopers from the 509th onto the historic battlefields of Gettysburg. Trevor ended up doing most of the planning, but it started as my idea and I had planned on being one of the primary jump-masters kicking out Airborne soldiers over that sacred ground. Well, something even neater than that happened and my daughter, Carlie, was born just a day or two before the Gettysburg jump went off. I wish that I had been able to go on the jump, but not at the risk of missing Carlie's birth.
Now, back to today's trip. After persisting as long as we thought we could in the museum without getting kicked out, we began our battlefield driving tour. Knowing that Cammie and I were the only ones who would pay attention (and we were getting hungry), we passed on buying the CD with the narrated auto-tour and just free-styled our tour of the battlefield. We drove up to Culp's Hill and climbed the observation tower to observe the entire battlefield. This, too, was awesome. The kids loved it. In case you don't know, the only member of our family with any fear of heights is Cammie. That makes it really tough to keep control of the family at altitude, so I had to put Carlie in charge of Cammie and I took charge of James. Jay Allen had to be trusted to be in charge of himself, and he did a good job. After successfully coming down from the tower, we headed back toward Northern Virginia.
We received a Cracker Barrel gift certificate for Christmas, so we decided to use it on the way back. Cammie called the 1-800 number and was on hold for about thirty minutes to ask if there was a Cracker Barrel in Frederick, MD. Just seconds after the friendly lady at the Cracker Barrel Help Desk finally picked up and said, "Hang on just a second, Honey, and let me get my locator out." We passed a billboard with the exact location on it. That is so typical of our luck. Our life really is a SITCOM - some of you already know that.
Well, we made it to Cracker Barrel and the kids were really well behaved and the food was really good. One surprise and one as you would expect it. I ordered the very festive salad with chicken and feta and apples, but couldn't resist a side order of greens and beans - the perfect meal for a health conscious hillbilly. Cammie and I couldn't recall ever having a bad meal from Cracker Barrel.
Jay Allen had on his Terrance Cody #62 Jersey and I had on my Alabama Sweatshirt that a gentlemen noticed as we were leaving. He asked if we were from Alabama and I, of course, said, "YES! ROLL TIDE!" He then surprised me and said, "Alabama! You guys have the best.." I was waiting for running back, receiver, linebacker, quarterback, kicker, coach, but instead, he said, "you guys have the best looking license plates." I was speechless for a second and then said, "Yes, thanks. The state prisoners do a good job on those." I really did not know the appropriate response.
The rest of our trip was uneventful, but we kept talking about how good our meal was. Thanks to my brother and Jennifer for the gift certificate. For any of my friends considering a visit to Gettysburg, do it! You can't imagine a place that is more hospitable, even to people with ties to the losing side of that conflict.

The Naked Ugandan - a story from my last deployment

I recently traveled to one of our FOBs where I saw a lot of paratroopers and one naked Ugandan. Many of our security personnel are Ugandans - very professional and meticulous in performance of their duties .
The Ugandan was in the shower when Chief Cropp, one of my office mates traveling with me, and I went to what the Air Force calls the "Cadillac" (the Army doesn't use that term and it was more the size of a compact Chevy). Chief got there in front of me and had shaving cream on his face and razor in hand when I entered the shower trailer. Just after I entered, the Ugandan popped out of the shower with no towel on and began applying lotion to his under moisturized areas - which were everywhere. Chief deftly left me a sink to shave at, but it was between him and the naked lotion'ing Ugandan.
That was all that was between Chief and the Ugandan, so I stood there with all of my personal hygiene equipment in my arms thinking. I was thinking for about two seconds before I told Chief we had to leave. He looked at me conflicted - with shaving cream on his face and a razor in his hand. He protested slightly, but I stated flat out in my loudest voice, "if that dude doesn't put on a towel or some shorts, I am leaving!" Chief then found inspiration and thought to ask about the hot water situation. The Ugandan confirmed that there was no hot water, so
Chief agreed to leave and we went to more modest (and I mean that in more ways than one) accommodations.
Looking back on the incident, that Ugandan probably had 10 or 11 roommates, so two dudes in the shower trailer was as much privacy as he could hope for. That being said, I am not an overly modest fellow, but personal space rules have to be strictly enforced when the dress code allows for birthday suits. There was just not enough personal space for three grown men in that shower trailer.
Hope you all get a smile from that story. That and a trip to the Iraqi Barbar (that is how they spelled it) shop for a haircut were the only excitement on the whole trip.

The Benefield Family Justice System

I normally clean these up, but here is an unedited parent moment.
I heard Jay Allen crying and went to investigate. He told me that James hit him in the back and Carlie witnessed the whole thing, so I convened court.
James and Jay Allen were both defendants and Carlie was, as far as I knew, the innocent witness.
When questioned about why he hit his brother, James said Jay Allen had hit him first. I looked disapprovingly at Jay Allen and he said that was true, but it was an accident. He "barely hit" James while trying to get him to take his turn in the game they were playing.
I turned to the witness. Carlie confirmed this account and went into a lengthy explanation of the game and its rules to explain what Jay Allen had done. I only pretended to listen to all this background information, so I am unable to share it with you.
Getting closer to the truth, I then asked James, "Where did Jay Allen hit you?" James pointed and said, "In the penis."
We all broke up laughing and court was dismissed with no punishments handed out. I did know that James could say, or even knew that word, since girl parts are still "boomies" and "a china".
Again, James has joked his way out of trouble. This is a definite trend and I am trying without any success to stop it. James just gets funnier as we try to be firm in our discipline. Based on my experience, it seems that James will almost definitely grow up to be a police officer and run for sheriff one day (like his uncle AJ, in case you don't know the family well enough to catch that reference).

Those Crazy Baptists!

I had to promise not to use names when I shared this story, but this is a good one. I work with a female officer at work who is also a Southern Baptist. The two of us are nearly twins in thought and action. She is currently in Hawaii on temporary duty and found herself at a luau with some over aggressive Jehovah Witnesses. They witnessed her to death and she was determined to fend them off (if not outright offend them). Reaching into the Baptist specific, THOU SHALT NOT's, she declined alcohol to offend them and chose to dance in the classic Hawaiian style. Now, that was a brave choice because her left foot is currently in a walking cast due to a torn Achilles tendon. She was in a good bit of pain when I talked to her, but quite proud of herself and quite satisfied that her Jehovah Witness Luau partners were sufficiently put off with her. If I could only type her laughs into this page, everybody who has ever attended a Baptist church could laugh themselves silly - I did.

Health and Wellness Issues

I have had an up and down flu season. I have been down hard with the flu once, had another mild case, and missed the Army ten miler because of it. James and Jay Allen both had a case of it, with James spraying our dinner with chocolate milk a few weeks ago. The wet rainy weather has brought us more cold and coughing and I am tired of it. Cammie has been sick two or three times herself and Carlie had a bad cold a couple of weeks ago. We need sunshine and health.
In trying to get back to normal, I decided to take my Army Physical Fitness Test this Thursday. I always enjoy preparing for an APFT and have lost about nine pounds since last week in preparing for this one. I am hungry and lean, but I am not full speed and I do still have a cough. So, I wanted to check in at the clinic to make sure that I wouldn't collapse a lung while running Thursday morning. In the DC area, this can be a logistical feat on par with keeping up with Patton's advance. I had to get reassigned from one clinic to another, which took four phone calls and one hour. Since my family already goes to this new clinic, I told the person on the phone that I knew most of the doctors were from India, but if she could assign me to one from Southern India, I think he could understand my Alabama accent better. She laughed, but I think she complied. I then had to go claim my medical records, which took an hour of driving and 15 minutes on site. The young sailors manning the records section had mine ready, so once I arrived they stuck my records out the service window and I picked them up like I would grab a super-sized value meal from my favorite fast food restaurant. I was pumped up at this show of military efficiency that is so rare in DC (Good job, Navy)! I was smoking! Now, just a 45 minute drive to the new clinic to hand over my records and get checked out.
As I was plugging my address into the GPS, I looked at my medical records and noticed something disturbing. For twenty years, I have worn my blood type on my dog tags as O-Negative. I looked down at my medical records and saw prominently written, O-Positive! What in the wide world of sports was going on? I confirmed with two competent medical authorities that your blood type can not just change. Navy, what have you done to my records? This was the most disturbing development in my records since I PCS'ed (the military term for "moved") from Fort Benning with somebody else's medical records - I will stop and explain that before I continue.
In 2002, I went to see the doctor with some severe allergies. He asked me some strange questions that caused me to glance at the records he had on me. Correct last name, correct last four of my social, but wrong soldier. So, there was a Sergeant Benefield at Fort Benning who shared my last four. That was interesting, but no harm done. The doctor quickly saw the mistake and exchanged his records for mine in the first minute of the appointment. I was thereafter careful to check the name on my records and cracked them open every time to make sure I had my own.
When I PCS'ed in 2003, I did indeed crack open my records and checked to make sure the Benefield listed on the outside was described as Eric J. on the inside. Good to go! I hand carried the records to Robbins Air Force Base and in-processed flight medicine right away.
As they were entering my information into the medical system, the records clerk asked me how I liked Augusta, Georgia. I answered, "Don't know, never been there." He responded, "Weren't you born there?" NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I grabbed my records back and looked at the top few pages. Eric J. - just as it should be. But, after the first 5-10 pages, Sergeant Benefield! They had been mixing and matching our records for over two years! I would have thought that the medical geniuses who were looking right at me would have picked up on the fact that I am not a 6'4" black man, but at least they figured out that I was not born in Augusta. And I bet Sergeant Benefield was relieved at his next medical appointment to hear that his cholesterol was much better and he could come off the meds, but bad news - the Army had transformed him into a white man!
So now, after the Military medical system has changed my race (and Sergeant Benefield's), they have now changed my blood type! For twenty years, O-negative. Now, O-Positive! When was the mistake made? So today, after the doctor (from Southern India) assured me that I wouldn't collapse my lungs running Thursday, I asked the doctor how this could happen. She was not sure, but sent me to the lab to get blood-typed. People with twenty years service don't get blood-typed, so I am sure Ahmed, the lab technician, is now convinced I am some kind of secret operative or in some kind of military witness protection program. To be fair to Ahmed, I am confused myself.
So, I had to get blood drawn. I am not an "easy stick" and today was not a good day. Ahmed stuck my left arm and began moving that needle as if he had hooked a small mouth bass and was trying to pull it out of my arm. With as little emotion as possible, I told Ahmed, "That is mighty painful." He had trouble understanding me and asked, "It hurts?" I said, "Yes it does. I will jump and down and yell as if I were being tazed if that helps paint the picture." He quickly withdrew the needle and explained that my vein rolled. Oh, well, if I had known that, I would have brought my own clothes pin to hold it in place, but I really had no idea that my blood type was in question and that I would have blood drawn! I just came in with a cough!
Ahmed stuck me in the right arm with great efficiency, drew my blood, and sent me on my way. I did have bandages on both arms, but he gave me a Dragon Tales band-aid for my left arm and that made the small-mouth bass boo-boo all better.
So tonight, I sit here at home unsure if I am positive or negative. Based on past experiences with military medicine, I am braced for any result. I wouldn't be surprised to get my results back and learn that I am pregnant! White to black, negative to positive, why not dad to mom? Just kidding. I just had to share this crazy day with my friends so something good (like a smile or laugh) could come of it.

The thirteen fallen

If you watch the news or read it on the Internet, the only name you will likely see associated with the Memorial Service at Fort Hood today is President Obama's. He will be there, but let us remember the thirteen who will not be there because of Major Hasan.
I have attended a few memorial services over the years and have some advice for all attending, including those who don't like to jump to conclusions.
The Army is a family and there were thirteen deaths in our family last week. Our comradeship and loyalty to one another transcends any political differences and we have been betrayed by Major Hasan and his loyalty to his ideology. The thirteen fallen all made sacrifices to serve and it cost them their lives in a very tragic and unforeseen (by most of us) way. There is going to be a tremendous sorrow at the service, but there is also an unfailing sense of mission. That sense of mission is going to create a ravenous hunger for victory in the Global War on Terror and justice against Major Hasan and all who hold his murderous views. Let us also pray that the president will share that hunger and soon decide whether to send the additional troops to Afghanistan as the ones serving there now fight with resources that do not match their commander's strategy. Let us also pray that the commander in chief will commit to allowing the Army to secure its own force and deny membership to anybody who shares Hasan's views so this doesn't happen again. If just three more soldiers in the Army believe as he does, when will they strike and how many will they kill? My Army does not tolerate those who hate other soldiers and we should not create a blind spot for weirdos like Hasan.
Here are the names of the thirteen who will never share another Thanksgiving or Christmas with their families this side of Heaven. You may have a hard time finding these names elsewhere, so I have provided them in hopes that you will pray for their families as you join with yours in the upcoming holidays.
* 1. Lt. Col. Juanita Warman, 55, Havre de Grace, Md.
* 2. Maj. Libardo Caraveo, 52, Woodbridge, Va.
* 3. Cpt. John P. Gaffaney, 54, San Diego, Calif.
* 4. Cpt. Russell Seager, 41, Racine, Wis.
* 5. Staff Sgt. Justin Decrow, 32, Plymouth, Ind.
* 6. Sgt. Amy Krueger, 29, Kiel, Wis.
* 7. Spc. Jason Hunt, 22, Tillman, Okla.
* 8. Spc. Frederick Greene, 29, Mountain City, Tenn.
* 9. PFC Aaron Nemelka, 19, West Jordan, Utah
* 10. PFC Michael Pearson, 22, Bolingbrook, Ill.
* 11. PFC Kham Xiong, 23, St. Paul, Minn.
* 12. Pvt. Francheska Velez, 21, Chicago, Ill.
* 13. Michael G. Cahill, Cameron, Texas [civilian]

Recognizing Evil, from the Heart of a Troubled Christian

Christians must have the courage to call evil by its name. What happened at Fort Hood this week is evil and it should make us angry. Hate like we saw at Fort Hood is always evil. That covers a lot of ground, but let’s walks some of that ground.
Hatred of homosexuals is evil. Racism is evil. Anti-Semitism is evil. Communism is evil. Millions have been murdered in the name of all these brands of hate. As Christians, we are commanded not to murder and there were no caveats for people who do not believe the way we do. We are likewise called to love all people, but we are not called to love all ideologies or all actions. The Bible, the sword of truth, clearly tells us that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God. Jesus came to Earth to save each of us from our wickedness, not to rename our wickedness. Attack wickedness with the truth!
Since we struggle with what to name this current brand of hate and wickedness, I am going to define the hatred of all who do not follow Islam as “Infidelism”. Infidelism is just as evil as racism, anti-semitism, communisim or any other "ism" that diminishes God’s truth.
Infidelism’s evil was on full display at Fort Hood, Texas this week. I am no longer shocked by evil, but I have been shocked by the unwillingness by so many to call this brand of hate evil. The gunman at Fort Hood is not a good guy who snapped and did something that he regrets and feels remorse for. The gunman at Fort Hood did not commit an act that put him at odds with his beliefs. The gunman at Fort Hood had hate in his heart and acted on that hate. He acted on that hate in a deliberate, methodical, and predictable way. To be angry about what this man did is not hate, but so many seemed to be confused about who the haters are in this situation.
Where did Hasan’s hate come from? His hate came from the lie of Infidelism. Hasan fed that Infidelism for many years and that he acted upon it this week. How did Hasan feed his infidelism? The complete answer to that is still being pieced together, but there are many who are already rushing to dumb down any role radical Islam might have played in shaping Hasan’s views. Ralph Peters wrote an excellent article about this that you can read at http://www.nypost.com/p/news/opinion/opedcolumnists/fort_hood_xjP9yGrJN7gl7zdsJ31vnJ .
With full conviction that Hasan’s beliefs are a lie, what is the source of that lie? Jesus tells us in John 8:44 “You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father's desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” Jesus is telling us that murder and lies are related because they have the same father in the Devil. We should never forget that.
Jesus is the truth and had no problem calling a lie a lie. Christians know the truth and must be diligent to recognize (and attack) lies. There is no way to reconcile a lie with the truth. When we defend lies, we are trying to serve two masters, the father of truth (God) and the father of lies (Satan). We are to boldly proclaim the Gospel of Jesus and defend it from Satan's lies. Christians must attack the lies of the world in order to protect the people who are being lied to. People’s eternity depends on knowing the truth. There is only one way to Heaven, one way to the Father and that is through Jesus. He can save anybody and everybody, but we know that everybody will not choose him. I don’t want anybody to miss knowing Jesus because I didn’t have the courage to attack the particular lie they believe.
I have no problem condemning the lie of Infidelism and calling it evil. I am on firm Biblical ground in doing so. What I can not answer is whether Infidelism is a legitimate teaching of Islam. Muslims are divided on the issue of Infidelism. I know many peace loving Muslims who believe hate is wrong and evil as I do. Their beliefs seem to be more in line with the Christian’s Holy Bible than their own Koran, though. I do know there is Infidelism in a literal interpretation of the Koran and it is hard to follow how peace loving Muslims get around those passages of the Koran. Joel Rosenberg wrote about this in his book, “Inside the Revolution.” He explains the Muslim difference of opinion and measures each side against the Koran. Every Christian (and every other Infidel) should read Rosenberg’s book. Rosenberg even addresses Jesus’s relationship with Muslims. According to hundreds and hundreds of (mostly former) Muslims, Jesus wants them to follow him and has done miraculous things to communicate that to them. Out of obedience to Jesus and out of love for Muslims, I want them to follow him, too.
Righteous anger is not hate, but a loving response on behalf of those who have been wronged. I have experienced much grief, anxiety, and anger over what has transpired at Fort Hood. I am still waiting for the all the names of the dead and wounded to be released as of this writing and do not know whether I will see the names of my friends and former soldiers on that list. As I would not expect somebody to rush into a funeral home to tell a grieving family that the murderer of their loved one is really a good guy, I am likewise not ready to hear a defense of anything about Major Hasan. As I would not expect somebody to rush into the funeral home to tell a grieving family that they are just as evil as the murderer who took their loved one from them, I am not ready to be tolerant of the claim that Christianity is just as evil as Major Hasan’s Infidelism and other arguments of moral equivalency. I am angry and grieved and unwilling to apologize for that. Some may ask, “What about love your enemies and turn the other cheek and forgiveness?” I believe in and live all those scriptures. I do love and pray for enemies, but I don’t excuse evil behavior in that process. Turn the other cheek does not mean to let a gunman kill innocent people - the highest expression of love is to lay down your life for another person. Ironically, Hasan's hate gave some the opportunity to express the highest form of love. I have never withheld forgiveness to anybody who has asked me for it and have extended forgiveness to some who have not asked for it. Major Hasan need not ask for my forgiveness, but for God’s and for the forgiveness of the families of the dead. What a victory for Christ if Major Hasan awoke from his coma, showed remorse, asked forgiveness, changed the beliefs that he acted upon that black day, and gave his life to Christ. I would surely celebrate his decision. What a victory for justice if Major Hasan awakes from his coma and is put to death by a court-martial for his crimes. I would surely celebrate the decision of the court martial. Those outcomes are not mutually exclusive.
My faith and Major Hasan’s faith are mutually exclusive. When I tell you that I follow Jesus, there are clear expectations of me based on what Christ taught us in the Bible and a long, long history of good works in Jesus name. If somebody tells you that he follows Muhammad, is there any way to be sure what that means given the disagreement between Muslims on that very point? When Hasan chants Allahu Akbar as he murders innocents and his cleric says that his actions were unrelated to Islam, the truth of what Islam teaches is hard to discern.
The truth of the Christian faith is that our savior died for us and asks us to live for him. If there was another way to Heaven, God would have never sent Jesus to live, suffer, and die the way He did. If we say there are other ways, we cheapen that sacrifice and we disrespect the truth. If we passively let others believe something different, we have betrayed Jesus as surely as Judas did. The Devil will constantly whisper lies in our ears and give us opportunities to betray our Savior just as he was present when Judas betrayed Christ. We must be on guard against even the most subtle of lies by constantly proclaiming the truth.
In proclaiming the truth, disagreement is not hate. To disagree with Muslims is not hate. To disagree with fellow believers is not hate, but to disagree with the truth is to be wrong. Paul writes to the New Testament churches in complete disagreement with some of their practices and some of the beliefs that creep into their fellowship. Paul holds them accountable to the true meanings of the teachings of Christ and warns them not to stray from them. Since Paul’s time, the church has been a self correcting body based on its obedience to the Bible. That process will continue because as the world changes its truth from day to day, God’s truth is eternal. The entire body of Christ is responsible to guard God’s truth.
God gives each of us a platform from which to guard and proclaim his truth and his love with other believers and non-believers. Each of us are responsible for the platform we are given. I use my Facebook, my blog, and Twitter as part of my platform. I share my daily walk with all who are interested. I do so thoughtfully, prayerfully, and with great diligence to honor what God has done in my life. It is my goal to encourage parents and spouses, challenge believers to walk closer to God, pray for friends, and deepen my own understanding of God’s word. I am always looking for the lessons God wants us to learn from our lives. I share them when I find them. I routinely share my shortcomings in the hopes that others who suffer those shortcomings will likewise turn to God to overcome them. I am responsible for what is presented from my platform and must forewarn all that I am not willing to allow them to use my platform without exercising editing privileges. I do this to protect the clarity of my message. If I find myself in disagreement with my pastor, I do a lot of reading of the Bible before I go back to the pastor. I do not stand up in church to voice my disagreement right there, but go point to point (in person or via email) to reconcile our points of view and gain clarity. I respect the pastor’s platform. I would challenge every believer to likewise honor the platform that God gives you and never take lightly what you present as truth.
There are thirteen grieving families and thirty more families at Fort Hood who need our prayers and need the truth. I take that very seriously and promise to show the courage to do anything I can to prevent this from happening again.