“Ballad of an Old Soldier” -For Our Veterans on Memorial Day

This song is dedicated to the many WW2 soldiers I have known and the many more who I have not. It was directly inspired by two men I knew in Indianapolis, Indiana in the late ’90s. They had both served in WW2, one in the Navy and one in the Marines. They had even fought in the same battle once, and lived a mile apart when I knew them, but they did not know one another. Both men craved sharing stories about their experiences in WW2. Yet, their stories (as well as other WW2 vets that I have known) shared two common features. First, they would not call themselves a “hero” and reserved that title only for others. Second, they could only go so far with their stories before an invisible line was approached that they would not cross. As much as they wanted to share their stories, there were certain things that they just would not talk about.

This song is also dedicated to the wives of these stalwart men. Many wives and girlfriends got a very different man back after WW2, if their man came home at all. It was important for me to include a verse dedicated to the women who stood by their men who lived with the ghosts of WW2 the rest of their lives. Of course, there were many women who served in WW2 in various capacities at home and abroad. A hearty “thank you” to them!

Please share this song with any old vets you know. It is for them.

This song can be downloaded on several sites, including iTunes. See link below:

The lyrics are below:

Ballad of an Old Soldier

v1. family reunion time once again- been going since I was a kid- I know the faces but, the names slip my mind- A gray-haired man caught my eye- I walked over to ask him why- he stood out from the ordinary man-and he said…

Ch. I’m just an old soldier, you might not understand- but from Normandy to Bataan- I’ve got memories chiseled deep in my heart- and I can never close my eyes without hearing the sound of mortars fly, while I’m fighting on a bloody battlefield- and I cry out to God above, for fallen soldiers that I love…they were heroes, but as for me…I’m just an old soldier

v2. I saw a man in a nursing home, sitting in his room all alone-just staring out at a cold winter day- I saw something in his eyes that made me stop and ask him why- he stood out from the ordinary man- then he said…

v3. I saw a man in a casket lie, his wife leaned down to kiss him bye-her tears falling softly on his chest- then she turned to face the crowd- she just wanted to say how proud, she was of the man she’d loved for all those years- then she said…

alt ch. He was just an old soldier you might not understand, but from Normandy to Bataan- he had memories chiseled deep in his heart- and he could never close his eyes without hearing the sound of mortars fly-while he was fighting on a bloody battlefield- and I would sometimes hear him cry, for soldiers fallen by his side- he called them heroes, but as for him…he was just an old soldier

Fighting Vitriol and Hate with Vitriol and Hate Doesn’t Work…

Earlier today, I saw this video pop up in my Facebook feed. As I started to watch it, I asked myself, “Why does the lady holding the sign look SO familiar?” When the answer hit me, I yelled to my wife, “HEY! The lady who got hit with the slushie is the hateful lady I debated with at that huge garage sale event!” Yet, I was not happy that she had been doused in a frosty, frozen, convenience store beverage.

Here is the back story… A few months ago the, “Greater Indianapolis Garage Sale,” was taking place at the State Fair Grounds. Since I am a picker and ebay seller, I decided to head up one afternoon with my family to see what we could find. I had not more than walked into the large room with hundreds of booths before I saw a table in the middle of the room surrounded by three huge signs decrying gay marriage, threatening Hell to sinners, and explaining why Monster energy drinks were of the Devil. I remember thinking to myself, “Well, isn’t that special?” It was going to be a while before we got to that booth, but I committed to myself to suss out and confront this person’s ideology.

When we got to the both, the woman running it was holding up an empty can of Monster (I hope she did not buy it, rather found it so she did not have to put money in the Antichrist’s pocket) while pontificating to the person in front of her about why the Monster logo was really “666.” Spooky stuff.

So, I waited a few moments for her to finish and then started asking her questions. She, as very fundamentalist religious people go, was not really interested in my questions or dialogue, rather only the opportunity to “rebuke” me for something. I switched gears from dialogue to debate mode and off we went. Over the next 45+ minutes we drew quite a crowd as well as attention from people running booths nearby. I’ll admit, she had me on angst and volume. I relied on the Socratic Method and asking her to demonstrate the reliability of her epistemological base in order to change my mind toward her position. I sensed a great deal of internal trepidation in her anytime I tried to test her ideology with reason and logic. Her main ammunition was vitriolic charges about my supposed character and assertions that I would be tortured in an imaginary place for eternity after I died. The other unfortunate thing for her was, my knowledge of the Bible itself was superior to hers. So, I not only had to discuss with her on one level about ideology in general, but I also spent time correcting her on her own assertions based on the Bible. It was a bit tiring I must admit.

I knew there was only the slightest chance that I would get through to such a person on any level. Yet, it was important for me to try. The greatest encouragement was, two of my kids, my wife, and a crowd of people were listening to our conversation. They saw and heard, not only what we communicated, but how. I tested her ideas, she insulted me. I implored her to rise above her archaic dogma, she condemned me to hell fire. I did not go ad hominem, she arrogantly called me names. She insulted me to my kids, I told them she was a scared person and a bully. As we eventually concluded our parley at an obvious impasse and I walked off, several other people thanked me for trying to get through to her and for how I went about it. At the risk of hubris, I was actually very proud afterward of how I had handled myself.

Then today, when I saw the video of her, Christine Weick, being slushie assaulted, it really bummed me out. Here is why:
1. It is her right to stand on a public corner and spew her nonsense if she wants to. She did not deserve to be treated in the way that the other pedestrian treated her. The other woman should have presented her own case, called Christine out on her hatefulness, explained the error of it, and then left. The second woman had no right to dump a drink on Christine and she made an ass of herself.
2. Christine and many similar people who see the video will generalize the other woman’s behavior as, “how liberals are,” and it will only serve to justify their own behavior.
3. The only thing that any other passerby could have gotten from the whole exchange was something negative. There was nothing to use as a positive, teachable example from either person in the situation.
4. Last and most important… You cannot fight vitriol and hate with vitriol and hate.

Due to the road noise adjacent to the two women, I could not make out everything that was being said. Ultimately, you had two hateful people, on different sides of one particular issue, threatening each other that the God that they both happen to have on their own side would be tossing the other into Hell. I was emotionally sickened by each of them and their words toward one another.

So, if we cannot glean a lesson from positive example, we can learn one from the negative…

We MUST hold ourselves to a higher standard my fellow humans. We must refrain from personal attacks when debating with even the most hateful person. Many times, like schoolyard bullies, dogmatic bullies are actually very weak, scared, and trying to compensate for that. Even if we are not able to break through to such people, our behavior and tact can be a positive example for others. Only that will help all of humanity to grow and be freed from the chains of credulity, hatred, condemnation, and a lack of empathy toward others. It is of paramount importance that we stand up to such hateful people. BUT… we must do it the right way. Do not become them in an attempt to beat them. As my mom always told me, “Be careful that you do not become what you hate.”

-Luke

UPDATE! 11/9/2014- Here is a video of Weick that I randomly saw pop up on the front page of youtube today:

“The Patron Saint of Jamaica Queens” – A Tribute to Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax (Music Video)

This is a song dedicated to a true hero. Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax was stabbed and left for dead on a sidewalk in Jamaica Queens New York after defending a woman from an attacker. Over 20 people walked by without helping him while he lay dying. He died April 18, 2010.

I wrote the song, “The Patron Saint of Jamaica Queens,” as a tribute to Hugo’s memory. He was a homeless man who gave everything he had to give defending someone; his very life.

News clips and audio in the video used under the Fair Use Act.

Please share this video. I would love for his family to end up seeing it. Hugo was an immigrant to the USA from Guatemala. The song itself is available for digital download at:

or http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/lukeaustindaugherty

For more info on Luke, go to:
http://www.lukeaustindaugherty.com
Words and music by: Luke Austin Daugherty -Copyright 2010, All Rights Reserved Luke Austin Daugherty

Lyrics:

“The Patron Saint of Jamaica Queens”

V1. I didn’t wake up this morning and think that I would die tonight-I just thought I might find a soft place to fall- ’cause after all, we all need a place, but I have…

Ch. I have nowhere to lay my head- I have no place to go- I have nowhere to lay my head- I have no place to go…

V2. It’s cold and dark in Jamaica Queens, so I huddle ‘neath the lights of the street- I saw her in danger and frozen in fright- thought I’d be her angel tonight, ’cause I…

Chorus

V3. Sometimes a knife to the heart is not just a metaphor- some things are fair in New York that are not in love and war- and standing there they just watched me here- like I’m Jesus with no cross and no beard…

Chorus

Bridge: Am I a 3-D doormat underneath this city’s feet- a super hero with only the power to bleed- the man in white with no white coat or hat- losing the battle to the man in black

V4. So this will be my widow’s mite- I don’t have two coins, so I’ll just give my life and- Saint Peter meet me at the gates- I called for Michael to defend, but he was running late and I…

Chorus