Reposted in memory of my shipmates. The Navy Hymn connects the paragraphs. An orange fireball blots the sky, a mass of white-black cloud shot through with flame. The Navy P-3 Orion yaws as the #3 engine burns and trails an undulating line of black smoke. The starboard wing folds up and shears away; with lift gone the aircraft rolls to starboard. The Orion rolls and rolls, … Continue reading Lima Charlie 85
This is so beautifully written that my hand turned warm from the touch of Kris’s heart. If I am ever in need of loving care at the end of my days, I hope someone like Kris is there to see me through. I’m tired today. Tonight. Whatever. It is 4 am and I just woke mum to empty her waste bag. I stared at … Continue reading Ribbons, by Kris
Reposted in memory of my shipmates. The Navy Hymn connects the paragraphs. An orange fireball blots the sky, a mass of white-black cloud shot through with flame. The Navy P-3 Orion yaws as the #3 engine burns and trails an undulating line of black smoke. The starboard wing folds up and shears away; with lift gone the aircraft rolls to starboard. The Orion rolls and rolls, … Continue reading Lima Charlie 85
One day, close to tax-filing deadline, dad was sitting on the edge of his bed. He was sorting W-2 forms. There must have been twenty of them. Maybe more. Twenty jobs. Five children to feed and clothe. Dad was the ninth of ten kids. He was born in the middle of the depression. I never knew we were poor. Continue reading Rich
The Writings of William C. Pennington 