Did you know?

So, I've played golf with my nephews several times over the past few months. Interesting fellows. Actually, funny and enjoyable fellows. We've discussed quite a few topics while driving (no pun intended) to and fro. Our latest discussion had to do with family history. It seems my nephews don't know much about our Arnett/Gale family history. I don't blame them much because they really aren't all that interested and any stories Cliff told them went in one ear and out the other. I think I have more interest in the Gale side because I served a mission in Australia. I tell people all the time I'm basically just on my way to Australia. Wow, what a great reference to a great movie. Anyway, I told the youngens that they were of Aussie heritage which they discounted immediately. I told them they have an ancestor who was named Wandell Pacific. I told them to look up the James Gale getting lost story on LDS.org. I told them they still have relatives in Australia. I told them about Pancho Villa. I told them everything I know. Casey and Pierce just kept quiet. I had to ask if they were awake. AJ didn't believe any of it. Maybe it's because I kept telling him I got a birdie on every hole.

Anyway, to my siblings I ask, did you know your Great grandfather's name is inscribed as a founding father on the plaque in Snowflake, AZ. Did you know that his wife Elizabeth was the first Mormon woman to enter Mexico during the Mormon colonization. Did you know James Gale was the first Sunday School Superintendent in the colonies. Did you know that the meeting held by Moses Thatcher (apostle) to organize and send the men to Mexico was held in St. David. Did you know that Moses Thatcher was ordained as an apostle but was not made a member of the twelve. Did you know I read all of Aunt Doris' life history over the Christmas holidays and learned and incredible amount of things I never knew about her and her family and even my family. Did you know I never told Aunt Doris thanks for sending me one. Just thought I let you know.

Did you know?

Safety for the soul

I discovered why today. Why is such a good question. Why is there? Why do things happen? Why do bad things happen? Why are there so many songs about rainbows? Why blog? Why care? Why now?

Anyway, (just curious why isn't there a word "anywhy"), I realized why I growl. Yeah, I growl. It's not a mean growl or a vicious growl, but it's a low toned growl, or as Pam says, it's a deep hummming sound. She does it too. We both do it now and here's how it started.

When our dog, Duffy, grew out of puppyhood he started to growl --not with his teeth showing, but just a gutteral hmmmmmm. At first, we thought he might be unhappy with us or mad, but we learned his growl was just his way of talking to us and letting us know he was there. Whenever you pet him, he hmmmmms. Whenever you hmmmmmmm, he hmmmmmmms back. Whenever you don't pay attention to him, he hmmmmmms. So now Pam and I talk to him by hmmmmmmming. Actually, we talk to each other that way also. It's amazing how much you can say with just one hmmmmmmmm. It must be gutteral, of course. A high pitched hmmmmmm can be confused with screaming.

We sing in church that way now too. Maybe that's why they call them Hymns. We sit on the very last row (really the chairs in the overflow) in the very corner and just growl the Hymns. No words, just low pitched hmmmmmmmmmms. It's very contentual. I just made up that word. It's soothing, it's provides safety for the soul. It release whatever tension that builds up.

So, back to why? I've been sick with the cold or flu, I don't know which. Incidentally, I got a flu shot for the first time ever because Pam made me, and now I'm sick. This flold, I made that up too, has been bad. I gave to Ashley, while giving her a health blessing with Cameron. Anyway, it's been bad. Pam also has been having a difficult time with her jr. high kids this past week. It's just been rough for both of us. So this evening, at dusk, we went outside and sat by the pool in lounge chairs and growled. I would growl, then she would follow. Then we would growl together. Soon Duffy came over and growled with us. I wish we had a video of it. It was pure communication. No words were necessary. In fact, words don't do this story justice so instead I'd like to just say, hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I hope you understand.

Have you ever been scared?

Yeah, I know I've stared down a mass murderer and I've sung in the Salt Lake Tabernacle for General Conference. I've been tackled by an NFL Hall of Famer and blew my knee out. I've been in three major car accidents with barely a scratch on me and I've fallen helplessly through a ceiling. All of these things caused some level of fear and trepidation. 

I admit to being fearful on occasion, but I'm not usually scared. Except for the other day. I was taking a rare shower. It seems the older you get, the less you shower. Not because we don't stink, but because it's just a hassle.  Shaving is also a hassle. I don't recommend anyone shave unless they absolutely have to. Come to think of it, going to the bathroom is a hassle. Don't do it either unless you absolutely have to. Eating, of course, is never a hassle. My advice to to learn to eat laying down. There is no wasted motion and it's easy to fall asleep after the last morsel has gone down the throat.  

Oh, so back to taking a rare shower. No, I wasn't scared because I saw myself in the buff. Although, I've learned not to look because it's depressing. Anyway, I was in the shower going through my shower routine which includes brush my teeth. That's right I have toothpaste and a toothbrush in the shower with me. Don't make a federal case out of it.  Next, I take a long scrub brush with stout brissles and scratch my back. As I was picking up the brush, I noticed that a part of the brissles were just a little darker brown that the other part. As I put it up close to my back, the dark brown brissles began to move. I immediately dropped the brush and was astonished to see a large scorpion scamper around the bottom of the shower basin. The brush then became my club as I beat the scorpion in to oblivion. 

Fear doesn't describe what I felt. The word scared does. I was scared. If that scorpion had stung me on my back it would have hurt. He might have stung me several times before I could have gotten him off. He/she could have laid eggs under my shoulder blades. I could have been host to hundreds of baby scorpions during their gestational period all the while having them feed off my skin for sustenance. It could have been a tragedy of epic porportions. But, alas it wasn't, I was just scared. 

A tribute to my greatness

                                                       Unk, the Lego mini-fig

Rarely in life, do we get the recognition we deserve for our accomplishments. We do not seek for these things, yet on occasion, some entities like governments, associations, guilds, military organizations and/or educational institutions feel compelled to bestow on deserving people individual honors which show their gratitude for accomplishments and honors above and beyond the norm. 

In all humility, I accept the honor bestowed upon me by my fellow members of the human race. I know I am such noble company as Batman, Darth Vadar, Indiana Jones, etc. I am deeply humbled that my name is now linked with theirs forever. I will do my best to live up to the standards they have set. In fact, I intend to raise the bar higher and carry on the rich tradition of my fellow recipients. And last but not least, thanks to the little people, for being littler than me.

I've decided to post again!!!!

That's right. I'm blogging again after my self-imposed exile. I have much to talk about. I have lots to say. I have many things to show. I have done many things. I have endured many things and hope to be able to endure all things.

My latest venture is to play a little prank on those many people who go to holiday boutiques in my little part of Arizona. As many of you know, I live in a neighborhood that has only one entrance and exit. You come in on the same street you exit. I'm going to print up some Holiday Boutique signs that read, "Gilbert's Largest Boutique" with arrows pointing in to my subdivision. Then, I'm going to have arrow signs and guys dressed in orange traffic vests leading the "boutiquers" around and around and around in my neighborhood and then leading back out. I will have it video-taped and put it on you tube comparing the vehicles to the ones previously video-taped in movie theater parking lots for midnight premier showings of "Twilight".

By the way, I am not immuned from shopping mayhem myself. I go to poor people's boutiques called garage sales. What's interesting is I usually find a lot of the things that were sold at real boutiques from the previous year.

Also, I'd like to introduce my friends and family to an unique blog I recently found out about. It's highly entertaining and thought provoking. I recommend it to all and, in fact, hope you all will link it to yours. If I knew how, I would. I'm waiting for Devry or Lacy to show me how. Anyway, here is the name of it. chadjeffreyarnett.blogspot.com Check it out.

Little help please?

A cousin of ours is traveling to the colonies in  Mexico next month to attend a wedding. The wedding will be that of an African-American young man and a Mexican-American young woman. The African-American man was born in Zimbabwe and the Mexican-American woman was born in Colonia Dublan.  Both are caucasian. That's an interesting tidbit that means nothing, but it's not what you would think knowing where they are from. Anyway, our cousin, is taking them on a tour as such of the Colonies. We have some history there with the James Gale family and other slightly distant relative. 

It seems, though, I recall hearing a story or stories about someone on Grandpa Clifford's side of the family who knew and played with Pancho Villa before he became Pancho. They knew him as Doreato or something of that nature.  So, here are my questions. Who was it that played with him? Where was it? and finally, where did these stories in my head come from? If anyone has information leading to the capture of these Pancho Villa stories, please respond accordingly. 

I have been given an assignment to detail the story to the soon to be wedding couple for our dear cousin.  If any one is in contact with your Uncle's Al (Floyd, Sonny boy), Harvey, Clinton (Jay), or Gary, please have them tell you the story. I don't think I made it up. I think I remember Alfred telling me about the story, but then he also taught me how to scavange at junk yards and how to be a dumpster diver. Maybe, I'm mixing my stories about Pancho Villa and finding a Pancho in a dumpster.  Could anybody help a brother out?

Grateful for the birth of Jesus in more ways than one

Read below then ask someone over 50 why?

Jesus Garcia, our hero

The train that blew up

The small town of Nacozari occupies a valley nestled in the foothills of the Western Sierra Madre (Sierra Madre Occidental) in the state of Sonora.
A hundred years ago this month, a young locomotive driver had to make a desperate decision: save his own life or try to save the lives of hundreds in his home town? Choosing the latter, he drove his dynamite-laden train away from the town but it finally exploded, killing him instantly. He was only 50 meters from safety. Just 50 meters further, and he could have abandoned the locomotive to its fate and jumped off the burning train to save his own skin.
His actions saved the town. Jesús García became a national hero. In his honor, November 7 is celebrated each year as Día del Ferrocarrilero (Day of the Railroad Worker).
By the end of the nineteenth century, Nacozari (the name means "abundance of prickly pears") was a lively frontier town of about 5,000 people. A worldwide copper boom promised to be the town's path to future wealth. Copper was needed for engines, motors, power plants, telephones, telegraph, pipes, rods and wire; demand was rising rapidly. Workers flocked in.
In 1895, Nacozari's copper mines were owned by Moctezuma Copper Corporation, a subsidiary of Phelps Dodge. The following year, an important copper reserve was discovered nearby at Pilares. The company enlarged the town, building homes, stores, workshops, warehouses, furnaces and ore concentrators. All the supplies had to be brought in by mule train; most items came from Arizona or California. Ore was packed out of the mines, also by mules.
In 1899, the company built its own 8-kilometer-long narrow gauge railway from the mine at Pilares to Nacozari, for easier transport of ore to its concentrators. The elevation difference along this line is considerable, more than 600 meters (2,000 feet) from mine to town. Following concentration, the ore was taken to Douglas, Arizona, for smelting. These exports of ore became much easier in 1904 when a standard gauge railway line from Agua Prieta was extended to Nacozari.
Jesús García had been born Nov 13, 1883 in Hermosillo, Sonora. His mother moved with her eight children to Nacozari in 1898. García started work with the company railroad as a waterboy, quickly winning promotions to switch man, brakeman, fireman, and finally, by the age of twenty, to maquinista (engine driver). His work ethic was much appreciated by his employers. In 1904 they paid for García and seven colleagues to attend the World Fair in St. Louis, Missouri.
García drove locomotive number 2, transporting mineral ore and supplies between the loading yards in the town and the mine. The hazards faced by locomotive drivers included stray donkeys wandering onto the line, saboteurs tearing up the rails, and brake failures. In October 1907, García had managed to halt a train whose brakes had failed by reversing the wheels and dumping lots of sand on the line. The train finally ground to a halt only four meters from the end of the line.
García was a popular young man and engaged to María de Jesús Soqui. He serenaded her regularly, hiring the best local bands each time, and is reported to have done so on the night of Wednesday November 6, 1907.
The following day, García was working as usual, and had several return trips scheduled to the mine. The mining company had three locomotives, all made by Porter of Pittsburgh. García operated a 0-6-0 locomotive built to order in 1901. The engines relied on wood for fuel and had to carry copious supplies of water and also sand (to increase the friction between rails and wheels).
When García arrived for work, he was told that the train's usual conductor (a German named Biel) had been admitted to hospital, so he would have to manage without him. By mid-day, García had completed two trips down from the mine with dozens of loaded ore cars. While other workers tended the engine and loaded the cars for the next trip, García had lunch at his mother's house. Neighbors later confirmed that his mother shared her premonition of doom with him as they ate.
Just after 2 p.m., García set off again towards the mine. Locomotive number 2 was pulling several cars, the front two of which were open cars containing 70 boxes of dynamite, detonators and fuses. This was strictly against company regulations which stated that dynamite must be carried only in the rear cars. Other cars that day contained bales of hay. As they pulled out of the lower yard, stray sparks from the train's chimney stack were blown back onto the first cars, causing a box of dynamite to begin smoking. Railway workers aboard the train desperately tried to douse the smoke, but their efforts failed, and the box caught fire.
García realized that if the train exploded near the lower yard, the resulting detonations of the company's dynamite stores and gas tanks would almost certainly destroy most of Nacozari. He also realized that if he jumped from the train, it might run out of steam and roll backwards towards the town before exploding. He ordered everyone else off the train and opened the throttle wide, hoping to put a small ridge between him and the town, and perhaps reach Camp 6, a secondary loading area en route to the mine. If only he could pass Camp 6, he must have thought, he could safey leap from the train and the train would continue on into uninhabited wilderness.
By 2:20 p.m., García had driven the train six kilometers out of the town and was entering Camp 6 when the cars exploded. García was killed instantly by the massive blast. He died barely a week before his 24th birthday. At least 12 bystanders were also killed in the resulting carnage. Amazingly, the engine remained on the tracks; it was later sold to the Mereci Southern Railroad of Arizona.
The blast was heard up to 16 kilometers (10 miles) away. It shattered the glass in many of Nacozari's buildings. Twisted metal was hurled through the air, to rain down several kilometers away.
But at least García's quick thinking and brave actions had saved the main part of town. Within days, he was being hailed as a hero.
Two years after the accident, the town unveiled a permanent memorial to Jesús García, the Hero of Nacozari. Sadly, his fiancée did not live to see this; she died broken-hearted less than a year after García. On November 9, the state congress decreed that Nacozari would henceforth be known as Nacozari de García. García was awarded, posthumously, the American Cross of Honor.
Ten years after the train explosion, García's ashes were reinterred close to his monument in Nacozari. In 1944, the federal government declared that the National Day of the Railroad Worker would be celebrated every November 7.
Jesús García became a national hero, after whom numerous streets, schools, bridges and parks have been named. There are monuments to him in many towns, including Hermosillo (the Héroe de Nacozari Stadium was home to the Coyotes de Sonora football team), Mexico City, Zacatecas, Veracruz, Tapachula, Guadalajara, Mazatlán, Naco, Aguascalientes, Ciudad Obregón, Empalme, San Luis Potosí and Tierra Blanca, as well as in other countries both near (Cuba, Guatemala) and far (United Kingdom, Germany).
Several popular songs or corridos were written about him. The best known is Máquina 501. The composer of this corrido took a little poetic license with the engine number. As we have seen, García drove locomotive number 2; 501 was the number of the last locomotive ever operated by the mining company. When it was eventually retired to Nacozari's main square, it was renamed the Jesús García.
Click here for an mp3 file of Máquina 501, as sung by Francisco Charro Avitia. (right click for option to play file in a new tab or window)
Garcia's brave actions were turned into a movie El Héroe de Nacozari (1935), directed by Guillermo Calles, and have been the subject of several books, including Kate Tuthill's award-winning "Hero of Nacozari".