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This simple picture has three main things in it.

All three of them are extremely important to me.

The American Flag - My Country, One nation under God;

The Indiana Flag - My Beloved Home, endless seas of fields and trees;

My Graduation Mug - A monument to the past, a cup full of memories;

All three of these things are a big part of who I am.  As I look at them, all of my memories flow through my mind, all that I know flashes before my eyes.  It's amazing how such simple looking things can contain so much memories - so many pieces of us inside of them.

So many people desecrate the flag of our country and say it is no big problem - "It's just a piece of cloth."  It is so much more than that.  Old Glory has seen a lot over the past 200 years.  She has heard the screams of the dying and seen the horrors of war, terror, and riots.  Yet, she still endures.  She waves as freely in the sky like those who she represents.

My States Flag - the flaming torch and the stars, with the blue background.  A perfect representation of our beautiful state.  I know this probably isn't the really reason for the symbols on this flag, but it's what it means to me - The blue background represents the beautiful sky one can see if they look up on a sunny spring day.  The Stars remind me of staring up in amazement at the clear midnight sky, full of brightly shinning stars.   The torch, the flame that reminds me that there is always a flicker of hope.  That flicker of hope is Jesus Christ.

My Mug means so much to me.  My past - and although I am still young and got a lot of growing to do still, so much has already happened.  My memories of high school, my memories of home.  Of all that I have done.  Life.

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Field of Blood

Guess where this picture was taken;

No answer?

This was a picture I took of the Gettysburg battlefield.  I am still amazed at how terrible history textbooks and books in general are when trying to describe a place as massive as this.  I remember standing there amazed that I was standing on the same ground where hundreds of Americans (Union and Confederate) gave their lives for what they thought was right.  It is amazing to see the seemingly endless field, covered with the occasional rocks and zigzagging fences.

I thought it was awesome to actually be in the town of Gettysburg, and being able to see the bullet holes and impacts of cannon balls on the sides of the buildings that are still standing.  Or to stand in the graveyard, in the exact spot where President Lincoln gave his Gettysburg address.
Oh, and walking up the side of Little Round Top - amazing.  Being able to see where Colonel Chamberlain charged down the side of the hill, causing the Confederates to be routed on the Third day.

And to look upon the field in this picture; where Pickett's Charge happened.  It was awesome to see it but sad to think about it - as hundreds of American soldiers were slaughtered on this field.
All I can say is, I hope that one day I can go to all the Battle Field Memorials across the United States.  The more history the better, haha.
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April Morning

241 years ago today...

241 years ago today, brave men decided to say enough is enough.
241 years ago today, war became inevitable.
241 years ago today, the beginning of the end of an empire had started.
241 years ago today, a burning fire would ignite across 13 colonies.
241 years ago today, a shot heard 'round the world would be fired.
241 years ago today, the Battle of Lexington and Concord would start.
241 years ago today, the American Revolution would begin.
241 years ago today, the idea of a new nation, formed from the ashes of Revolution, would be born.


The American Revolution, the first and one of the most important historical events in American History had occurred on April 19, 1775.  The war not only ignited a fire on the Western Hemisphere, but around the world.  Sure the French would say that Napoleon was the cause for the all the revolutions around the world --- but where to the spark for the French Revolution come from :)

It was a war and a time that no American should ever forget.  Those who participated in this war were revolutionary thinkers (the pun is definitely intended :).  Sure, we have people like George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Nathaniel Greene, William Howe, John Burgoyne, Charles Cornwallis, and other notable names.  But what about those who lived and gave their lives for the cause of freedom every single day, such as Joseph Plumb Martin, Daniel Morgan, John Crockett, and thousands of other average Americans who would be, in essence, the American Revolution.  I think we too often forget that when looking at history - the power of the individual.  Everyone thinks of George Washington and how great he was (not saying he wasn't - cause he was), but no one takes the time to actually think about the American Soldier, the ones who believed that they were making a difference in the world.  Those who were willing to give their lives for a cause that most believed was hopeless.

Yet through perseverance, the American "rebels" won the war for independence.  They created their own nation, under God.  A system of Federalism, (after the articles of course) and a land that promised prosperity and freedom.  Sure we screwed up many times, and we still have our problems now days; but if there is one thing that we can learn from the American Revolution, it is the perseverance of the American - to win through to absolute victory - in any situation.  We don't give up so easily, and even when we are pushed down, we stand up, brush the dirt off our pants, and walk forward. 

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Picture from https://www.google.com/search?site=imghp&tbm=isch&q=American%20Revolution&tbs=sur:fmc#imgrc=eYabiu8unpySvM%3A

If you wanna read an awesome book about the battles of Lexington and Concord, I recommend
April Morning by Howard Fast.  It is a great book!

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere

Since this happened tonight nearly 241 years ago,

I thought it would be appropriate to post this.

    Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."
Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.
A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.
It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

-Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Poem from - http://www.nationalcenter.org/PaulRevere'sRide.html

Picture from - https://www.google.com/search?site=imghp&tbm=isch&q=Lexington%20and%20Concord&tbs=sur:fmc#tbs=sur:fmc&tbm=isch&q=midnight+ride+of+paul+revere&imgrc=53NL9n5cKnr5oM%3A

4/18/16

So today is April 18, 2016.  Since tomorrow is the 19th (day American revolution started), I'm gonna make write a fictional journal based off of a 20-year-old who was thrown into the American Revolution on the British side.

April 25, 1775



 The American rebels have caused significant casualties to our men who marched to and from the town of Concord.  Those rebels have now cut off all ways to the country side, so we are unable to maneuver our troops to crush these provincial rebels.  If we ever get bloody reinforcements, we will crush these rebels and put them in their place.  They will regret ever crossing us.  They claim they fight for freedom, yet their form of freedom is sedition and must be dealt with appropriate force.



- Major Arthur Simmons





And now a journal from the American perspective:
















April 30, 1775



  It's begun.  The British dared to take our weapons in Concord.  They started this when they marched into Lexington and massacred the militia there.  We didn't want this fight, but as John Parker put it, "If they mean to have a war, let it begin here."  And so, the days that followed we closed all possible routes that the British could use to get behind our lines.  There has also been talk of a mission to take the artillery in Fort Ticonderoga.  I also heard something about Continental Congress planning on meeting again.  We will win this war - for our honor, our liberty, and our countrymen. 



- Corporal James Swift




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Pictures from --

https://www.google.com/search?site=imghp&tbm=isch&q=Lexington%20and%20Concord&tbs=sur:fmc#imgrc=k2yMcUm6vbrqHM%3A

https://www.google.com/search?site=imghp&tbm=isch&q=Lexington%20and%20Concord&tbs=sur:fmc#imgrc=oLw0CQQW-WRoxM%3A