Group active since Thu, May 29, 2014
I wanted to create a group where we can honor those who have and are serving our country.
It started as military but will be expanded to include our brave first responders also.
Some members of Just A Pinch are in countries other than the U.S.A.
Please feel free to join us with your stories about your military friends and family members.
This group is not for sharing recipes but rather for sharing the love and the stories of those we know who have served or are serving.
Treat this as a tribute group for the brave men and women who make our freedoms possible.
May 29, 2014
Those who made it home came home physically in 1 piece but suffered many different issues as a result of war.
I have always been deeply affected by military people.
When VietNam happened I was horribly angry when we had POW and MIA people .. that just wasn't right.
I began campaigning to make people aware and to do my little part to bring our people home one way or another.
It was approximately 1997 when I came upon a website called Operation Just Cause.
This website was all about our POW and MIA people.
They had an "adoption" form there. I read it and signed up immediately.
What happened was very cool. I was given the name and history of a military person, from my state, who was MIA in VietNam.
At the time I had a website and decided to include a special area for military.
My adopted MIA is named RoberT Wayne Altus.
Captain Altus was an Air Force pilot. He and his weapons and systems operator 1st Lt. William
Phelps were shot down Nov. 23, 1971 over Laos.
Neither of them have ever been found.
I built a page on this person. When it was done I asked the organization to get in touch with his family so they could see what I had done.
His sister contacted me within 2 days via telephone. She told me that his mother had just passed away but his father was still alive. She had shown the page I created to his father and it moved him to tears knowing that a complete stranger cared enough about his son to try and keep the word out about our POW/MIA people.
As time went by I got to meet these 2 wonderful individuals. The sister was so much fun and very helpful and informative. It was almost as though we were sisters. His father was quite the character. He was such a sweet old man. He died in 2006 and the sister passed in 2008.
My time spent with them was very special and will forever be precious in my memory.
We went together to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Portland Oregon one afternoon. We found Robert's name and I have to tell you that it was such a powerful moment to see that name and to touch it.
We did a tracing of his name and spent a fair amount of time in silence holding hands and shedding a few tears.
Here is a link to his story (not my webpage)
And here is a photo of my MIA ... RIP Robert Wayne Altus.
Apr 16, 2017
Feb 25, 2017
There were many children, mostly toddlers, as well as the infants that would need to be taken out with the cribs. There was no time to try to bundle them into carriers and strollers.
Just then a young Marine came running into the center and asked what they needed. After hearing what the center director was trying to do, he ran back out into the hallway and disappeared. The director thought, "Well, here we are, on our own."
About 2 minutes later, that Marine returned with 40 other Marines in tow. Each of them grabbed a crib with a child, and the rest started gathering up toddlers.
The director and her staff then helped them take all the children out of the center and down toward the park near the Potomac ..
Once they got about 3/4 of a mile outside the building, the Marines stopped in the park, and then did a fabulous thing - they formed a circle with the cribs, which were quite sturdy and heavy, like the covered wagons in the Old West.
Inside this circle of cribs, they put the toddlers, to keep them from wandering off. Outside this circle were the 40 Marines, forming a perimeter around the children and waiting for instructions. There they remained until the parents could be notified and come get their children.
The chaplain then said, "I don't think any of us saw nor heard of this on any of the news stories of the day. It was an incredible story of our men there.” There wasn't a dry eye in the room.
The thought of those Marines and what they did and how fast they reacted; could we expect any less from them? It was one of the most touching stories from the Pentagon.
It's the Military, not the politicians that ensures our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.
If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for the military, please pass this on and pray for our men and women, who have served and are currently serving our country, and pray for those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for freedom.
*"The Last Six Seconds"*
One can hardly conceive of the enormous grief held quietly within General Kelly as he spoke.
On Nov 13, 2010, Lt General John Kelly, USMC, gave a speech to the Semper Fi Society of St. Louis, MO. This was four days after his son, Lt Robert Kelly, USMC, was killed by an IED while on his 3rd Combat tour. During his speech, General Kelly spoke about the dedication and valor of our young men and women who step forward each and every day to protect us. During the speech, he never mentioned the loss of his own son. He closed the speech with the moving account of the last six seconds in the lives of two young Marines who died with rifles blazing to protect their brother Marines.
"I will leave you with a story about the kind of people they are, about the quality of the steel in their backs, about the kind of dedication they bring to our country while they serve in uniform and forever after as veterans. Two years ago when I was the Commander of all U.S. and Iraqi forces, in fact, the 22ND of April 2008, two Marine infantry battalions, 1/9 "The Walking Dead," and 2/8 were switching out in Ramadi. One battalion in the closing days of their deployment going home very soon, the other just starting its seven-month combat tour. Two Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, 22 and 20 years old respectively, one from each battalion, were assuming the watch together at the entrance gate of an outpost that contained a makeshift barracks housing 50 Marines. The same broken down ramshackle building was also home to 100 Iraqi police, also my men and our allies in the fight against the terrorists in Ramadi, a city until recently the most dangerous city on earth and owned by Al Qaeda.
Yale was a dirt poor mixed-race kid from Virginia with a wife and daughter, and a mother and sister who lived with him and whom he supported as well. He did this on a yearly salary of less than $23,000.
Haerter, on the other hand, was a middle class white kid from Long Island. They were from two completely different worlds. Had they not joined the Marines they would never have met each other, or understood that multiple America's exist simultaneously depending on one's race, education level, economic status, and where you might have been born. But they were Marines, combat Marines, forged in the same crucible of Marine training, and because of this bond they were brothers as close, or closer, than if they were born of the same woman.
The mission orders they received from the sergeant squad leader I am sure went something like, "Okay you two clowns, stand this post and let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass. You clear?" I am also sure Yale and Haerter then rolled their eyes and said in unison something like, "Yes Sergeant," with just enough attitude that made the point without saying the words, "No kidding 'sweetheart', we know what we're doing." They then relieved two other Marines on watch and took up their post at the entry control point of Joint Security Station Nasser, in the Sophia section of Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq.
A few minutes later a large blue truck turned down the alley way - perhaps 60-70 yards in length, and sped its way through the serpentine of concrete jersey walls. The truck stopped just short of where the two were posted and detonated, killing them both catastrophically. Twenty-four brick masonry houses were damaged or destroyed. A mosque 100 yards away collapsed. The truck's engine came to rest two hundred yards away knocking most of a house down before it stopped. Our explosive experts reckoned the blast was made of 2,000 pounds of explosives. Two died, and because these two young infantrymen didn't have it in their DNA to run from danger, they saved 150 of their Iraqi and American brothers-in-arms.
When I read the situation report about the incident a few hours after it happened I called the regimental commander for details as something about this struck me as different. Marines dying or being seriously wounded is commonplace in combat. We expect Marines regardless of rank or MOS to stand their ground and do their duty, and even die in the process, if that is what the mission takes. But this just seemed different. The regimental commander had just returned from the site and he agreed, but reported that there were no American witnesses to the event - just Iraqi police. I figured if there was any chance of finding out what actually happened and then to decorate the two Marines to acknowledge their bravery, I'd have to do it as a combat award that requires two eye-witnesses and we figured the bureaucrats back in Washington would never buy Iraqi statements. If it had any chance at all, it had to come under the signature of a general officer.
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 6, 2017
Jan 26, 2017
When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks. 'Ms. Cothren, where're our desks?'
She replied, 'You can't have a desk until you tell me how you earn the right to sit at a desk. They thought, 'Well, maybe it's our grades.' 'No,' she said. 'Maybe it's our behavior.'
She told them, 'No, it's not even your behavior.'
And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still no desks in the classroom.
By early afternoon television news crews had started gathering in Ms. Cothren's classroom to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room.
The final period of the day came and as the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the deskless classroom, Martha Cothren said,
'Throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he/she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom. Now I am going to tell you.'
At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it.
Twenty-seven (27) U.S. Veterans, all in uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. The Vets began placing the school desks in rows, and then they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place those kids started to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned..
Martha said, 'You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. Now, it's up to you to sit in them. It is your responsibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don't ever forget it.'
By the way, this is a true story, and this teacher was awarded Teacher of the Year for the state of Arkansas in 2006.
Please consider passing this along so others won't forget that the freedoms we have in this great country were earned by U. S. Veterans.
IF YOU CAN READ THE STORY ABOVE ~~ THANK A TEACHER
IF YOU CAN READ IT IN ENGLISH ~~ THANK A VETERAN !