The History of Valentine's Day By: Ariadna Calveira The origins of Valentine’s day are shrouded; there are many theories and legends of the beginnings, but the origin has yet to be pinpointed. One theory is that Valentine was actually a priest serving in Rome during the third century. At this time, Emperor Claudius II banned marriage to young men because of the belief that single men made better soldiers. Valentine defied Claudius and continued to couples in secret. Claudius had Valentine executed. Another theory is that the Valentine’s Day came from the Roman pagan Lupercalia festival [which lasted from Feb. 13th - 15th]. The Normans had their own celebration at this time, named Galatin’s Day. To learn more, visit http://www.npr.org/2011/02/14/133693152/the-dark-origins-of-valentines-day or http://www.history.com/topics/valentines-day ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ MLK Day’s Calendar Controversy By: Ariadna Calveira Martin Luther King Jr. Day, commemorated on January 20th, is a nationally acknowledged event. Most can recognize the famed name, but only some know of the difficulty it took to get it on the calendar. Taking a whopping fifteen years to finalize, MLK's legacy can now be passed on throughout the generations by our agendas. MLK Day was proposed just four days after his assassination in 1968. Even with six million signatures in place, the bill was stalled substantially. Although the holiday was brought time and time again into legislation, it was only during 1982 and 1983 (when civil rights marches were taking place) that the holiday was further considered. Fifteen years later, Congress passed the holiday in 1983 and President Reagan signed it into place. The holiday finally took effect in 1986. But even with presidential approval, the United States was more divided than ever over this issue; each state had its own opinion of the holiday. In 1973, ten years before Congress had even given approval, the state of Illinois had already adopted MLK Day as a state holiday. In 1987, four years after the president had already signed the holiday into effect, Arizona's governor Mecham revoked the holiday. He believed that MLK should not be singlehandedly honored for the civil rights movement, but the entire movement itself should be honored as one day. It wasn't until 1992 that MLK Day became a holiday in Arizona. At last, in 1993, twenty-five years after the holiday was first proposed, all fifty states had adopted MLK Day--but the battle wasn't finished just yet. In spite of the fact that all states had adopted the holiday, some states still had the holiday under a different name. MLK Day was called “Civil Rights Day,” or “Human Rights Day.” Finally, in 2000, Utah became the last state to recognize MLK Day by it's current name. Indeed, through much controversy, Martin Luther King Jr. has earned his recognition on our calendars. http://www.infoplease.com/spot/mlkhistory1.html -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Through the Eyes of a Wife By: Ariadna Calveira “Listen carefully my Robert. What happened that day is too painful for me to recite again, so you must pay attention. I would like your children and your children’s children to know what happened that Good Friday in 1865.” She took a long, deep breath and looked out the window. An almost palpable aura of grief surrounded her. Robert noticed the distant look in her eyes. He knew that her mind was elsewhere now, wandering through the memories of that tragic day. What he didn’t know was if her mind would ever come back. With great solemn, she began to speak. “It was nighttime in Washington, D.C. Spring’s soft breeze seemed to graze along the hem of my dress. Yet, it wasn’t the warm and pleasant breeze that I had been accustomed to; the breeze chilled my spine and started crawled up along my neck. Something just felt wrong. Nothing unpleasant had happened that day--quite the contrary, really--but there was just something unsettling in the atmosphere. The breeze seemed cooler, the stars were dimmer, the leaves ceased their regular dancing. Hmp... and I thought to myself ‘Could it just be me?’ I glanced at the unfamiliar faces around the theatre. The different voices surrounded me in a jumbled mess. They all seemed to be speaking in short, fitful phrases; they were practically quivering with excitement. Apparently, word was out that some famous actor was in town. I was never really one to care for celebrities, and at this point, all I cared about was finding the one familiar face that did matter. "Are you alright dear?" "Ah, there he was! I recognized his voice from the mass of the crowds. Turning to see his concerned face, I gave a quick and phony smile." "Yes, of course! Just a little down, that’s all. Hopefully a comedy will cheer me up." "Are you sure? We could leave." "No, no, don’t do that. I’m fine." "I will regret those words for the remainder of my life. Maybe one day I will learn to forgive myself... I mean, I could have possibly known..." “Your father refrained from asking any more questions that day. For some reason, he had been extremely happy all evening long. I remember staring at him, looking up into his face as if I was seeing it for the very first time. He was a lean man, with a thick, dark beard. High cheekbones and a full hair of head followed suit, accompanied by his signature top hat. He was never really a looker, but at least he was honest. Honest and reliable--that’s something that your father always was. “He took me by the arm, and together we walked into the theatre. I crossed my fingers, just hoping that the performance of ‘Our American Cousin’ would cheer me up and take that foreboding feeling off my chest. At least Mrs. Grant wasn’t there that day; I really could never get along with that worm--” “How did the stage look like? Did you see anything strange in particular?” Robert asked gently. “I felt too unpleasant to even bother looking around. I never even glanced at the stage or the actors. I just stared at my feet or fixed my bonnet. My intent was to get in and then get out as soon as the performance was over. Ever since your father had told me about that nightmare*--you know the one--I had been uneasy. Thump thump thump thump. With his arm in mine, we slowly walked up the stairs and into the box. “The performance started, and as the play continued I loosened a little. Although I never let go of your father’s arm, I felt a little more relaxed." As the orchestra played, I whispered into his ear, "What will Miss Harris think of my hanging on to you so?" He replied, ‘She won't think anything about it.’ With that, I dismissed my previous feelings. ‘It must have just been a case of nerves,’ I thought. Those were the last words I spoke to him... “At around ten, I heard someone say ‘There’s Booth!’ I remember thinking ‘It seems as if the celebrity did show after all. Maybe I’ll get to say “hello” afterwards." “I didn’t think any more of Booth and carried on in a distant way. I remember very clearly the turning point. That one moment where everyone in the theater was erupting with laughter on some lines said. Everyone seemed hysterical and delighted. It was that moment I felt the more distant and queasy than I had felt the entire day. It was that moment, when everyone else was laughing, that I turned around and got to look at the assassin in the eye. “Booth was in the presidential box, he was only a few feet away from my face. I saw the pistol much too late... He didn’t... He didn’t even hesitate...” Mrs. Lincoln, now sobbing profusely, refused to speak to her son anymore. ---------------------------------------------- *Lincoln had a dream of his assassination three days prior. To see the dream, please view http://rogerjnorton.com/Lincoln46.html Please remember this was only an interpretation of events. The following were the true facts contained in the article: -Abraham Lincoln was shot on Good Friday in 1865 at Washington D.C. -Lincoln’s wife accompanied him to Ford’s Theatre that day to view “Our American Lady” -Lincoln was said to be extremely happy that day, more happy than he had been in months -The last words spoken between the couple was, "What will Miss Harris think of my hanging on to you so?" He replied, "She won't think anything about it". -John Wilkes Booth was a celebrity -Booth knew the play so well that he waited until the play’s funniest line to shoot Lincoln -The time of the shooting was around ten -Lincoln was shot in point-blank range |
I Carried Him Through The Korean War
A page from the journal of the Military Boots. By: Sarah Garvis Entry 1- It was only two weeks ago I was a simple sheet of prepared leather, sent to the skillful hands of a military cobbler. He tooled. He stitched. He carefully crafted. Like a heart in a surgeon’s hands. With the skillful making of each eyelet to the meticulous stitching of my tongue and the vital securing of my sole, he knew a life was placed in his hands as he masterfully created me, the final step, leather embossing “Property of U.S. Navy”. My assignment- DRAFTED- to protect the very extremity that would carry a brave soldier who also was drafted to protect freedom. Entry 2- On the bus headed to Fort Meade. As far as I can see, below each seat those similar to I carrying other brave souls to the same task to that which we were assigned. Entry 3-Did not have time to write for the past 8 weeks while at Fort Meade because I have been at boot camp. I think it was named after me! Each day revelry ringing in the air at 0500. I felt the vibration of the barracks as the soldier’s feet hit the floor. The strong hand of my soldier securing me so that I can protect him, as with trained military precession, he placed the aglet, as though marching, left, right , cross, repeat lacing from bottom to top, preparing me for combat. Training begins with extreme drills from pack runs, suicide bear crawls, shadow runs, drag and slalom runs all of which put me to the test; twelve straight hours of unrelenting pressure.I carried him through each step as he learned how to fire weapons such as a M-1 Garand. I looked up as he was taught to disassemble clean and reassemble in the dark and shoot under any condition. He also learned how to dig foxholes which can sure be a dirty job, camouflage his face for night combat, set up camp in the woods and snow, together we marched fast over long distances, use the bayonet(on dummies), and some Basic Combat Training; along with the regular physical training like running. By the end of training it was 10pm and my soles where warn out. I forgot to mention there was class room learning too. I rested under that desk as he learned about hygiene, the Uniform Code of Justice, how to behave as a prisoner of war (POW), etcetera. Everything was done is squad or platoon formation and my soles got worked to exhaustion. On Sundays there was no training but, we cleaned the barracks and personal gear. Entry 4-I lead my sailor to the vessel that steamed through the Yalu River. The ship, apparently too close to the shore line. “The rockets’ red glare the bombs bursting in air was proof to our vessel that the Chinese were there.” WE WERE UNDER ATTACK! My hurried pace that carried him through boot camp is now in action. Suddenly in front of me I noticed a river of blood and I could sense the fear of the person I carried. The waves were crashing, the bombs exploding as I moved him forward. It was then that I realized the blood was not from us although I could feel it seeping into my sole. If I had my way I would have had him run, but with bravery he bared down upon me, and forged ahead towards his wounded friend. His training came into play as he knew exactly what to do to stop the constant flow of blood. That day I realized I was assigned to a hero. As the bombs going were going off and the ship was being tossed, I saw boot by boot being dragged before me. The Chinese officer who almost sunk us knew exactly where shoot to the ship. We had under estimated the Chinese. We would have been sunk but, the US Navy was motivated. I saw the Marines on the shore in battle with the Chinese. I observed on the shore my fellow soles that were well trained using maneuvers to protect their soldiers. We went to shore to unload some ammunition for the Marines because they were short. Later, we had to take the ship back to the shipyard for the repairs on the material causalities. To the cobbler who gave me life, Thank you; It is because of you, I can continue this journey. |