Voyages of the Liberty's

      

                    Voyage Of The Liberty's
                                                          
                                                                      ( Amended )
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                                         SS Robert George Harper
                          5 May 1943 ----- 21 December 1943

     January 22, 1942, the keel was laid on the SS Robert George Harper, hull # 0234.  She was Launched March 22, 1942, and completed ready for sea in April, 1942.  She was named for a congressman from South Carolina who served in congress from 1795 - 1801.  Her radio call letters were KEVO.
     Anchored in San Francisco, Dad reported aboard May 5, 1943, and the ship set sail May 10th for Port Heuneme in Santa Barbara, Ca. where loading was completed, they then sailed for Nandi Bay in the Fiji Islands on May 20th. The AGC officers report states that the ship averaged 10.73 knots and arrived in Nandi Bay on June 11, 1943 - " no enemy contact ", signed LTJG Donald I. Bailey.
     When the crew was not training, they were provided with various things to entertain themselves.  A Port Director Material Report list the following items for the recreation and welfare of the AGC crew: 2 pair boxing gloves, one set horseshoes, Chinese checkers, one sack of marbles, a cribbage board, an acey duecy game, Dominoes, several decks of playing cards, a phonograph with records, a medicine ball and a set of books for men at sea.  Having been aboard ship I have to scratch my head about the horse shoes and sack of marbles but then if a sailor can walk on a ship's deck in a rolling sea I guess he can figure out how to play a game of marbles on the same deck - and I do remember Dad was a pretty good horseshoe player.  Guess he learned in the Navy.
     A June crew roster lists Dad as a loader for the 20mm gun.
     The AGC officers report of 16 July 1943 states that on 25 June they departed Lautouka, Vitu Levu, Fiji and sailed for San Francisco where they arrived July 16th, " no enemy contact ". The report also states that two men who had picked up VD in the states were removed from the ship prior to leaving Fiji.
     The ship took on cargo in San Francisco and departed for San Diego, Ca., arriving there July 27th, they took on more cargo and departed for Noumea, New Caledonia July 30th.  Engine trouble developed August 21st and after stopping at sea to fix the problem they pulled in to the port of Suva, Fiji to make full repairs.  They departed Suva August 23 and arrived Noumea on the 27th.  After unloading, the ship departed New Caledonia for San Francisco on September 5th.  Averaging 10.74 knots they arrived stateside September 28th " no enemy contact ".
     The ship took on cargo in Oakland, Ca. and a new AGC crew except Dad who stayed aboard. They departed Oakland October 22 and sailed to Espiritu Santo an island in the New Hebrides.  They arrived November 13th " no enemy contact " as reported by LTJG C.F. Grossman.  After unloading they departed November 25th and arrived San Francisco, Ca. December 17th, 1943. Speed was 10.5 knots.

     The Fiji Islands were going to be the next target for Japan as it was on the supply route to Australia but the battle of Midway put a hurting on the Japanese and they didn't have the forces to put the plan into action.  The allies established an air base at Nadi and a Naval base at Nandi Bay.  There was another Naval base at Suva.  I could not find where there was any enemy action in the Fiji Islands during the war.
     Noumea, New Caledonia was a major supply port on the route to Australia and was occupied by allied troops in March 1942.  I could not find reports of enemy action in New Caledonia.
     Espiritu Santos is an island in the New Hebrides group of islands.  While there was no enemy action that took place during the war Espiritu Santo was considered a strategic forward base as it was a little over 500 miles from Guadal Canal.

     After the war, like a lot of Liberty ships, the Robert G. Harper was sold and continued to sail the oceans of the world until she was scrapped in 1970 in Taiwan.  Her name was changed in 1947 to the St Croix and she flew the Danish Flag.  In 1951 her name was again changed to the Marna and flew the Panamanian flag. While still flying the Panamanian flag in 1954 her name changed again to the Astron.  In 1962 she was known as the Uranos and flew a Greek flag and in 1966 she was called the Great Peace and sailed under the Liberian flag until she was sold to Taiwan in 1968 and scrapped.

     I could not find indication that Dad saw any enemy action while serving aboard the SS Robert George Harper.

                               

    

     
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                                            SS John H. Rosseter
                                             
                                            13 January 1944 ------ 11 December 1944

     June 2,1943, the keel was laid for hull# 1580.  She was launched 22 days later and towed away for rigging.  In July she was completed and ready for sea under the name John H Rosseter.  She was named for the director of operations for the war shipping board in WWI.
     Dad reported aboard January 13, 1944.  According to the previous AGC Officers reports the ship had been involved in air attacks in New Guinea in November 1943.  For the next 11 months Dad would be sailing into and out of the New Guinea area.
     Around January 18 the ship left San Francisco and sailed to Milne Bay, Papua, New Guinea.  They arrived February 16.  Over the next few weeks they were in the ports of Langemak and Saidor.
     The last part of March they dropped anchor in Cape Gloucester on the island of New Britain.  My research tells me that the Allies were engaged in battle with the enemy for Cape Gloucester from December 1943 until sometime in April of 1944.  The AGC Officers report dated 14 April 1944 included a Notification of the Death of Seaman Frank Knapp who was killed in an explosion on March 30, 1944, at Cape Gloucester, New Britain.  He was buried in the local military cemetery in Grave 355. His death was in the line of duty.
     The AGC officers reports for the time Dad spent aboard the John H Rosseter were very disappointing.  There were only five entries found for the period of January 1944 thru December 1944 and they were not very informative.
     April 12th the ship arrived in Lae, Papua , New Guinea then back to Langemak then back to Lae. The month of May found them in Langemak and Oro Bay and in June back again to Langemak and Oro Bay.  July was spent in Oro Bay, Langemak and Humboldt, Hollandia where a battle was in the mopping up stage. They finished up July in Langemak, Milne Bay and Townsville, Australia.
     According to the ship movement cards they stayed in Townsville until September 3rd then sailed to Cairns just up the coast, then back to Milne Bay and Hollandia. Sometime in late September they sailed to an island north of New Guinea called Biak where fighting had recently finished then back to Hollandia and on to Finschhafen and Langemak, New Guinea.
     Sometime in early November the ship sailed back to San Francisco and Dad left the ship in San Pedro in December 1944.
 

     The big island of New Guinea was split in half.  The eastern half was called Papua New Guinea and the western half was called Dutch New Guinea or Dutch East Indies.  Allied forces started booting the Japanese from the islands in 1943 and fighting continued in many areas until late 1944. The battle for Saidor was not over until 10 Feb 1944.  Hollandia was not recaptured until 30 March 1944 and Cape Gloucester fought on till April.  Even after the areas were considered secured and ground fighting had ended the Japanese continued well into 1945 with attempts to recapture the lost positions by sending bombers overhead to attack shipping and supply depots.
     Although I need more records to prove it, I think enough verifiable information has been found that indicates Dad was involved in enemy action during this voyage on at least one occasion and possibly more often.  All of the ports mentioned were held by the Japanese until U.S. and Australian forces started taking them back in 1943.  The fighting was fierce even after the battle was over in mid 1944 but Japanese forces continued to bombard troops and supply areas well into 1945.

     While researching WWII action for the island of Biak, I read a story from an Australian soldier who, after the battle was over, wandered around the Japanese base.  He walked into the PX and discovered dozens of pairs of ice skates.  Keep in mind that Biak is located maybe 150 miles south of the equator and here are all of these ice skates.  During interrogation of the prisoners, it was learned that the Japanese officers told the soldiers they were actually on an island just off the coast of San Francisco, CA. and they were going to invade at any time.  The ice skates were to be used for recreation after the successful invasion.


     As for the SS John H Rosseter, it appears that she continued sailing under a US flag until 1966 when she was scrapped in Tacoma, WA.


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                                                     SS Cape Archway

                                                     16 January 1945 ----- 13 April 1945


     Of the four ships Dad sailed on, the Cape Archway is the only ship believed to be a Victory ship. She is the only one of which I could find very little information about.  I know she was one of forty-nine built by the Consolidated Steel Corp of Wilmington, CA.  Her radio call letters were KWOD. Beyond that my computer skills petered out.
     Dad reported January 16, 1945 and around the 18th the ship departed for San Pedro, CA. to take on cargo.  February 1st the ship departed for Melbourne, Australia and arrived there on the 22nd of the month.  Two days later the ship set sail for Calcutta, India.  Along the way the ship was challenged by an allied B-24 bomber on patrol. The ship arrived in Calcutta on the 13th of March. Three days later they departed for Colombo, Ceylon ( now known as Sri Lanka ) and after just one day in port they set sail for Sydney, Australia, arriving there April 9, 1945.
     LTJG W.B. Leighton didn't write too many Voyage reports but when he did he seemed to complain about the condition of the guns (they were worn out) and the need for a refrigerator and electric fan for the crew (which he received).
     In Sydney the AGC crew was rotated off the ship on April 13th.  Dad went to his next assignment.
     While this was the shortest voyage time wise it was not necessarily short in the distance traveled. In just under three months the Cape Archway traveled some 19,077.64 statute miles or 16,581.8 nautical miles at a top speed of about 15 miles per hour if they ran at top speed.
  

     Although Melbourne and Sydney were never attacked, Colombo and Calcutta were both targets of the Japanese bombers throughout the war.  Calcutta was the center for supplies and personnel fighting in the China / Burma theater.  Colombo was the seat of the Southeast Asia Command and a major supplier of raw rubber.  Several major air battles were fought there.

     I can't find any information about the Cape Archway after the war.

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       Update, further discoveries on the internet have produced information about the Cape Archway. There were several types of cargo ships built during the war, Liberty ships, Victory ships and types C1, C2, C3 and C4. The Cape Archway was a C1-B not a Victory ship, she was 417.75 ft. in length, 6750 gross tons and had a top speed of 14 knots ( about 16 mph ) from her 4,000 hp. engine. Both the C1-A and C1-B had the word " Cape " in it's name. there were 95 of these ships built.
     At the end of the war, she joined the Hawaiian American Line, March 31, 1944 and was manned by crews from that company. In 1949 she was sold to a private concern presumably the Hawaiian American Line as a permanent asset and sailed the oceans until 1974.



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                                                   SS Charles Lumis
                                                 

                                                   13 April 1945 ----- 24 October 1945

     The keel for Hull # 1649 was laid on 13 April 1943.  She was launched on May the 5th and completed ready for sea later in the month. The Charles Lumis was named for a journalist /author who wrote of the New Mexico Indians at the turn of the century.  The Charles Lumis was listed as a troop ship.
      April 17, 1945 found the ship in Sydney, Australia.  The AGC crew was rotated off and Dad reported aboard with the new crew and the ship quickly departed for Cairns just up the coast.  After a week the ship was dispatched to Biak island arriving there on the 6th of May.  A quick turnaround put them back to sea where they arrived at Morotai Island in the Netherlands East Indies.  From there they shipped out to Leyte Island in the Philippines Island, arriving there about the 20th of May and then on to Tocloban and Manila. The voyage report for this time frame shows " no enemy contact ".
     From Manila the ship sailed to Eniwetok island in the Marshal Islands then on to San Pedro, CA. Arriving there June 29th.  According to LT. W.H. Zimerman, the voyage was uneventful " no enemy contact ".
     The Japanese surrendered on August 15, 1945, the official " Formal Surrender " took place in Tokyo Bay on September 2, 1945.  The war was over.
     There was still a need for supplies so on August 23rd the ship left San Pedro headed for Pearl Harbor at a top speed of 11.9 knots.  After a couple of days in Pearl Harbor it was off again to Eniwetok to arrive by the 13th of September then Manila by the 23rd.  After waiting to be offloaded and rerouted they departed the 20th of October sailing to Tocloban where the ship was put into a maintenance status on the 24th of October 1945 and all AGC personnel were removed.
     In less than a month Dad was in Memphis, TN arriving there on the 28th of November and Honorably discharged from the Navy as of December 8, 1945.  His Navy career was over.


     Prior to Dad being assigned to the Charles Lumis it was awarded a battle star for it's participation in the battle for Leyte Gulf, 19 Nov 1944 / 29 Nov 1944.  As far as I know, the SS Charles Lumis continued to sail under the US flag until it was scrapped in Portland, OR. in 1965.



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            Why IS A Ship Called A SHE

       A SHIP IS CALLED A SHE BECAUSE THERE IS ALWAYS A GREAT DEAL OF BUSTLE AROUND HER.
       THERE IS USUALLY A GANG OF MEN ABOUT.
       SHE HAS A WAIST AND STAYS.
       IT TAKES A LOT OF PAINT TO KEEP HER GOOD LOOKING.
       IT IS NOT THE INITIAL EXPENSE THAT BREAKS YOU, IT'S THE UPKEEP.
       SHE CAN BE ALL DECKED OUT.
       IT TAKES AN EXPERIENCED MAN TO HANDLE HER CORRECTLY.
       AND WITHOUT A MAN AT THE HELM, SHE IS ABSOLUTELY UNCONTROLLABLE.
      SHE SHOWS HER TOPSIDES, HIDES HER BOTTOM WHEN COMING INTO PORT, ALWAYS FOR THE BUOYS.
     
     During my search I found several sites that discussed Liberty ships and I found that some of the info was contradicting  especially the speed, most sites stated that top speed was 11 knots which is pretty slow (about 12.661 mph), one knot is equal to 1.151 mph. The newer Victory ships were supposedly faster by about three knots.
        Liberty ships were built with a 5 year life span in mind.  About 2000 survived the war and continued to sail the oceans of the world well into the seventies.  Many had their name changed several times and sailed under many flags.  I didn't realize it at the time but when I was in the Navy during the late 1960's I saw Liberty ships in every port.  They were streaked with rust stains flowing from flaking slabs of rust, the pride with which they were built had disappeared long ago only to be over taken by neglect.  There are only two left now as museums.  Those ships not lost to storms at sea fell into disrepair after years of hard work and little care, they were cut up and sold for scrap in various ports around the world.  Like many of the men who sailed on them during war time, their days of glory are memories of a generation quickly passing into history with the hopes that someone will remember them.

WWII And Bill Riggan

                                        WWII And Bill Riggan



     A few years ago Little Sister Vickie gave me Dad's Naval discharge papers. The discharge listed Dad's duty assignments for the time he was in World War II as well as the name of the ships he was attached to. Dad and I never talked about the war or his experiences. Occasionally he would tell a humorous story such as those told in previous post. Like so many people before me I wish I could go back and ask both my parents so many questions that at the time just didn't seem important. I guess it is true about hindsight being 20/20.
     I didn't realize until much later in life that Dad was a member of the U.S. Navy Armed Guard, an all volunteer group of men assigned to man the guns on merchant ships as they crossed the oceans of the world. Dad's discharge papers provided me with pieces of his past I was unaware of and started me wondering what he might have gone thru during the war. Many volunteered for the Armed Forces of their choice without any hesitation, patriotism and revenge for the Pearl Harbor attack altered the lives and futures of young men and women across the Nation. To what extent did it alter Dad? we may never know.
     Armed with questions, a slow internet and a less than basic skills with the computer I decided "what the hell" and started on a quest thru the Internet that while informative it was also frustrating but here is what I found out.
    

     I think it is important to tell about the AGC and the ships Dad sailed aboard. Just prior to the U.S.'s entrance into WWII, the United States had been shipping war materials and supplies to England and Russia, via merchant ships, across the Atlantic Ocean. The German forces attacked these ships and sunk them on a large scale. In 1941 President Franklin Roosevelt did two things for the war effort in this regard - he first started the U.S. shipyards to building new merchant ships to replace those sunk, and he had the congress revive the Neutrality Act to allow merchant ships to protect themselves.
     The first of the new merchant ships slipped into the water September 24, 1941 and was followed by 2709 more over the next four years.  This was a new design for cargo ships, they were bigger, faster (if you call 11-14 knots fast -about 15 mph), easy to build (avg. about 29 days), and cheap, only $2 million each.  Roosevelt called them "Ugly Ducklings", the rest of the world came to know them as "Liberty Ships". Once the emergency need for ships was over another new design vessel was built, they were called "Victory Ships" and they too were bigger and faster (up to 16 knots),531 of these ships were built from January 1944 - 1946.
     The AGC was a re-creation of a similar program used during WWI and revived again for WWII in November 1941. The Navy started training the first of more than 6,000 officers and men for this hazardous duty because the Merchant Marine Union refused to allow its members to be taught how to fire the guns mounted to their ships so the Navy and President Roosevelt decided it would be better to supply trained sailors to do the job.  At first there was animosity from the Merchant Marine sailors but once the fighting started they came to appreciate the Navy personnel, there were even stories of the Merchant Marine sailors jumping in to help man the guns when the chips were down.
     In my search I read many accounts of the actions these ships and sailors were involved in.  One account told of an AGC crewman who left New York heading for Murmansk, Russia.  During the voyage he was on three different ships as each of the previous ships were sunk by submarines. Along the way he spent days floating in lifeboats and suffered the loss of shipmates. 
     Not all voyages were filled with such horror. Dad used to have a ring he made on one of his voyages, he told me they would take a quarter, stand it on edge on the steel mess table and whack it with a spoon while rotating it. This process took many hours but in the end you had a ring which looked like a wedding band and on the inside it read "in God we trust".  I haven't seen the ring since I was a kid so I hope it is still in the family.
     Liberty ships weighed some 7100 gross tons and could carry another 9,000 plus tons of cargo which equates to the equivalent of about 300 train carloads. Due to the war needs the ships often left port with their holes full and deck cargo of locomotives, airplanes, tanks and various other items lashed to the decks.  This would cause the ships to be top heavy and have to run slower in high seas.  Some of the loads were war materials such as aviation gas, ammunition, artillery shells or bombs, when hit during an attack, these ships would instantly disappear into an inferno of flame, there would be no survivors. In the North Atlantic Ocean German submarines raised such havoc with the sinking of the Liberty ships that it was calculated that the cost of the ship was recouped after one successful voyage. Regardless of the loads or dangers ahead, sailors of the Navy and Merchant Marines boarded their ships and sailed off to far horizons.
     In all of the sadness and horrors of war there were also humorous happenings.  As with any endeavor there will be SNAFUs.  There was the ship that left San Francisco loaded with barbed wire headed for a Pacific Island, on arrival they were told the cargo was not needed so try another island.  The ship sailed around island after island for months but nobody wanted their cargo.  The captain returned to San Francisco only to find out the barbed wire was supposed to go to Italy.  Sometime later a ship left the states loaded with a PT Boat squadron lashed to its decks and all of the personnel and spare parts in the holes.  Upon reaching the designated island no one knew anything about the cargo.  The captain, remembering the barbed wire incident, quickly offloaded the cargo and left port.  Several months later the ship returned to the island with another load and found the PT squadron sitting where he had left it.
     Armed with ship names and dates I scoured the Internet searching for knowledge. I found a website for the AGC where members and their families have tried to stay in contact with each other or submit stories to be archived for history.  I spent several hours reading with interest, hoping to find some mention of one of the ships Dad was assigned to or maybe someone was looking for him. Ironically the last entries on the message boards were several years old, the ranks of the "Greatest Generation" were thinning fast.
     I found a site where all of the Liberty ships were listed and I was able to get the date the keel was laid down, the date the ship was launched and completed ready for sea. I also was able to find out when the ship went to the scrap yard and where. Then I found that I could write to the National Archives in Maryland and get copies of the ship movement cards and later the copies of the Armed Guard Officers Report. Unfortunately, a key item in the search is not available - the ships logbooks were destroyed back in the 1970's because it was believed that no one would ever want the valuable information they contained.
     Much of the information I uncovered was intriguing and gave me a sense of what the men of the AGC went thru and in turn lead to more searching. With all of the information I came across there are questions left unanswered and probably will remain that way but there are stories left to tell about the voyages Dad took across the Pacific Ocean so the next step is to start putting it all together.
     Dad was 19 when he followed his older brothers into the Armed Forces.  January 18, 1943, he volunteered for the Navy and was sent to recruit training in San Diego, CA. Why did he wait a year before joining up? is one of those unanswered questions. Sometime during recruit training he volunteered again this time for Naval Armed Guard.  As a Seaman Second Class he reported for AGC training also in San Diego - that was April 2, 1943.
     May 5,1943, Dad reported aboard the SS Robert George Harper, the first of four ships he sailed on over the next two years.  At times he sailed calm seas and experienced days of boredom and monotony as the ship gently rose and fell with the swells of the ocean. Then there would be days of wind driven waves higher than the masthead, tossing the ship and all aboard in all directions, one such storm split a seam in the side of his ship and they had to limp into Sydney, Australia with the ship listing heavily to one side. I have come to the conclusion that there were also days of terror as they watched the skies for the enemy and probably at times even fired their guns to stave off the enemy assault.
     One of Dad's favorite movies was "Mr. Roberts".  It was about a ship's officer aboard a Navy supply ship as it sailed from port to port experiencing nothing but monotony and tedium. The officer wanted desperately to get into the real war which he did with fatal results. My findings tell me that Dad also sailed from monotony to tedium a few times but he also had his real war however brief it may have been.  How much war does it take to change a person? how much did it change Dad?  there lies another question to remain answered.
     In the following post titled "Voyages of the Liberty's", I put together all of the information I collected about the ships, ports of call and the AGC officers report. I was hoping for more than I was able to collect but it is what it is, there are still questions but there will probably not be any more answers.
     

Dog Days Of Summer

                   Dog Days Of Summer





     Growing up in Mt. Juliet was the highlight of my youth. The Cedar Creek area was country and filled with the things that all kids should experience like fishing, hunting, swimming, exploring or just wandering aimlessly thru fields or woods.
     Brother Pat and I spent a lot of time on Old Hickory Lake.  I was more of the fisherman and adventurer, Pat was into football although I imagine that he has some fond memories of the lake.  Our range covered from Langfords Cove to the 109 bridge and every creek and cove in between.  My friend Donnie Odum and I knew where every crappie could be caught and how to follow a school of hybrid bass or the best places to just have fun.
     Dad had a flat bottom 12' fishing boat built and mounted a 12 hp motor to it.  It made a great fishing boat but we didn't limit it to just fishing, by the time Dad swapped it for a runabout a year later we had already learned to water ski behind it.
     The runabout was a multi-use boat as we not only used it for skiing but fishing as well.  The runabout had a 35hp Evinrude motor with electric start (when the battery was charged) and Pat and I both could ski at the same time.
     Old Hickory Lake played a big roll in my youth. What follows is a composite of the adventures I had. I think it appropriate to say I have found that things in my youth were much bigger or smaller than I remember so all lengths of measurement should be taken with a grain of salt.


     Donnie Odum was the first friend I made when moving to Mt Juliet.  Though we haven't always kept in touch over the years my thoughts often include him and the great fun we had.
     Donnie had a small fiberglass fishing boat with maybe a 15hp motor. Donnie was an animal lover, he had cats, dogs, chickens and peacocks and was always looking for more.  One day he, Pat, and I went to a cove up the lake where Mallard ducks were raising their young.  Donnie wanted pet Mallards.  The young ducklings were several weeks old but not yet flying and Momma and Pappa never strayed far.
     The plan was simple - I would operate the boat chasing down the ducks as they skitted across the water. Pat would hang on to the side of the boat holding on to an inflatable raft,  he would let go as I brought him alongside a group of ducks.  Donnie would be perched in the bow of the boat ready to leap out at a group of ducks.  Simple huh? but just remember that old saying about best laid plans that go astray.
     We made several passes at groups of ducks.  Pat would jump out from his raft and Donnie would perform death defying leaps but it seemed all we could get was close.  At one point Donnie was on the bow shouting to go right then left as we chased down a group of ducklings, when we got close his body stretched out with his arms in front of him as if he were diving into a pool, with a splash he hit the water flat just inches away from his target.  I looked back to see him stand up in water about knee deep, covered in mud from head to toe.
     Turns out Mallards were easier to shoot than catch and they probably thought we were nuts.  At best I think all we did was scare the hell out of them. We didn't catch any ducks that day but a few did find their way into Donnie's menagerie some time later.

    Dad, having grown up around the upper parts of the lake, knew where many obstacles were submerged and they made great crappie beds.  Dad was a creature of habit and he only fished those places where he had been successful in the past, though not successful every time he went out.
    One day he took Ronnie and I fishing to several of his favorite fishing holes.  Now Ronnie at this time was maybe five years old and his attention span was very short, to keep from wasting good bait on Ronnie, Dad would put dead minnows on his hook.
    After several hours of fishing and no fish Dad was ready to head home.  As we entered Cedar Creek I talked Dad into stopping at a long private boat dock at the bottom of a tall cliff.  Dad pulled up along side the dock determined this was a waste of time so he never got out of the boat but he did let me try.  I dropped my bait next to the one twig sticking out of the water between the dock and the bank, I quickly pulled out what was known as a slab crappie. This got Dad's attention though he proclaimed that was probably one that was passing by.  I rebaited and quickly pulled a twin to the first fish.  Now Dad was tying the boat up and getting his pole ready.
     Ronnie wanted to fish too but we didn't want him to mess up our spot so we put him at the end of the dock with a dead minnow on a 5' cane pole with maybe 20' of line wrapped around the tip. Ronnie was now happy and sat down with his legs dangling off the end of the dock singing to himself and waving the pole around.  Dad and I proceeded to fish with live bait.
     It is a mystery about crappies that they will take bait from a hook placed in the same spot but ignore bait just 6 inches away.  There I was pulling out big crappie from the left side of this twig in the water and just a few inches away Dad couldn't even get a nibble.  Ronnie on the other hand was on the end of the dock in about 40' of water jerking his pole from side to side, singing away, when all of a sudden he hollers out "Dad, I got a fish ".
     Not wanting any interruptions Dad hollered back and told him to bring it in. By this time Ronnie had inadvertently unwound all of the line from the end of the pole and couldn't just lift the fish out of the water.  Not to be discouraged, Ronnie laid the pole down on the dock, turned around to get up, then picked up the pole and started walking backwards.  Twenty feet of line later a nice crappie flops on to the dock.
     I went over and took care of Ronnie's fish and put another dead minnow on his hook as he sat down to dangle his feet in the water.  I handed him his pole and he was singing as I walked away. While I was taking care of Ronnie, Dad moved his bait to the left of the twig and finally caught one.
     We continued fishing this way for another 1/2 hour or so and when all was said and done Ronnie wound up catching about as many as we did.  So much for being quiet and still so you don't scare the fish away.


     There was a large oak tree on a steep bank in the Cedar Creek cove.  Someone had hung a rope from the first limb which was about 25' - 30 ' up.  There were several knots tied in the end of the rope to keep hands from slipping. The base of the tree grew from the water's edge and leaned slightly towards the water.  There was a large flat boulder, about as big as a VW, that was half in the water and rose steeply from the water's edge.  The bank, or rather the steep cliff, was covered in sapling trees and rock outcroppings.  Again, someone had carved a narrow path thru the saplings and used the rocks as steps and launching platforms.  In other words, we had a rope swing out over the water.
      There was a trick to this swing, if you didn't watch what you were doing you could get hurt. The trick was not to swing back in.  The only good thing was that the water was deep.  To climb the path you first had to stretch to grab the rope then using your free hand to grab the saplings to pull yourself up the path.  Once you reached the top you would be standing on a rock outcropping leaning forward while holding to a sapling behind you with the other hand holding on to the rope.  Once you got some courage up you had to quickly grab the rope with both hands and climb about a foot higher while simultaneously lifting your feet out in front of you.  Failure to follow this procedure would mean that your butt would scrape the rocks as you swung out over the water.
     Now, once you reached the apex of the swing you had to let go - swinging back to the start point was not an option as some found out. The drop to the water was maybe 15' but it sure looked a lot higher.  Some of the guys, like Donnie or Ricky Martin, would do backward flips, forward flips and other dives.  Most people just swung out and let go dropping feet first into the water.   I dove.
     Weekends during the summer drew large numbers of teenagers to the swing.  Mostly it was the guys who swung out and dropped but there were a few girls brave enough although most of the time the girls sat in the boats and let us guys impress the hell out of them.  As they say today,  the place was a "chick magnet".  There would be 15 - 20 boats staged around watching us kids swing from that rope.  Old people would watch us and reminisce about better times.
     I have to be honest here and tell you that my first time I was scared to death.  I had gone out with Donnie and Ricky and watched them swing.  When time came to go they beat me to the boat and moved it off shore and wouldn't let me in until I swung out on the rope.  I'm not sure what scared me more - the swing or the 1/2 mile swim to the other side of the lake - but with a lot of nagging and encouragement, I did it, from then on I was a regular at the swing.
     Brother Pat became a regular and one day we even got Dad to swinging.  Turns out Mom was across the lake and had borrowed binoculars to watch us.  She was not happy.
     One day a large group of kids was at the swing and we had a large crowd of spectators watching us.  In one of the spectator boats there were two couples who were quite vocal.  One of the girls finally shamed her boyfriend enough that he jumped in the water to give the swing a go.  He made it to the top of the path and we gave him the rope and told him what to do with final instructions being "do not swing back in".  The guy stood there holding on to the rope looking down at the water as he built up his courage.  After several minutes he reached out and grabbed the rope as we had told him.  When he reached the end of the arc he let go, dropped two feet, yelled an expletive,  and grabbed the rope.  He swung back in and we were unable to stop him as he busted his butt on rocks and swung back out.  We yelled at him to let go but he hung on tight and came back in.  This time when he went back out he let go but he was too close to shore and dropped about three feet off the big boulder.  Surely his butt slapped the rock under the water fortunately it was his butt. When he surfaced he quickly swam to his boat and climbed aboard.  His girlfriend was going on about what happened - was he hurt? the girl just wouldn't give it up so he told her to shut up as he started the motor and quickly left the scene.  Needless to say, we never saw them again.
     Kids did get hurt from time to time and the Coast Guard would shoot the rope down and someone would put up a new one.  It was a part of life on Cedar Creek.
     It has been a while since I was on Cedar Creek, I guess the swing isn't as popular anymore, the path was grown over, the rope cut, the site was even hard to find.  I guess jet skis are more fun now.
   

     As if swinging out of a tree was not enough, we also had cliff diving.  Down the river there was a cliff in the bend.  The cliff was tall and straight and the water was deep.
     Now as my memory serves me, that cliff was 50' - 60' tall,  maybe more.  Standing at the edge you could see forever and had the sense that the water was a long ways down.  In reality it probably is more like 25' - 30', things are never as big as you remember.  What I do know is that I could only make two dives and would wind up with a headache.
     To get to the top you had to jump out of the boat swim to the lower end of the cliff and then climb to the top.  Once at the top you could stand at the edge and jump or get a running start which was sure to get you far enough from the cliff.  I chose the running start.
     We were very safety oriented as we kept a boat in the water to pull us in if something went wrong.  Generally speaking, we would jump, then swim about twenty yards to the lower end climb up and do it again.
     For some reason cliff diving didn't go over as well as the rope swing so unless you brought the girls with you there was no one worth impressing.  Still,  it was something to do on a hot summer day.


     One nice spring day some time in late March or early April, Brother Pat and I were visiting Donnie.  The weather was great, the temperature was nice and warm and we were looking for something to do.  Dare I say mischief may have been afoot.
     We were on Donnie's boat dock looking out at the water and at the boats moored at Cedar Creek Boat dock.  There was one boat about 40 + ft.  I think it was known as the Merrimack.  It was moored in a totally covered shed and we never saw it on the lake and we wanted to check it out.
      The only way to see the boat without permission was to sneak in by water so we stripped off our clothes and buck naked jumped into the water.  I must say that the water in Tennessee lakes that time of year was damn cold.  Probably another reason I didn't have kids till later in life.
     We swam over to the boat house and once inside explored the boat.  While we were exploring Donnie's Dad came looking for us but all he found was a pile of clothes.  He was calling out our names but we couldn't call back or he would know we were some place we shouldn't have been so we kept quiet until he gave up and went away.
     We learned later that when his Dad got back to the house his Mom asked if he found us, his Dad said all he found was a pile of clothes laying on the dock.
     The swim back was just as cold as the swim over and we probably were turning blue -  but what the hell,  it was one of those things you do "just because".


       Brother Pat and I learned to water ski, and along with Donnie and others,  the antics we had constitute another posting .
    

We Were Family

                                               We Were Family




     Little sister's recent posting about family vacations reminded me of a few times we spent as a family away from home and, yes, it was a vacation of sorts depending on who you asked .
     Prior to living in Mt. Juliet Dad was the only one in the family working therefore he was the only one to take a vacation.  Dad's idea of a vacation was to go fishing and if the fish didn't bite then there was always a good reason to take a drink or two or three.  Once we moved to the country Dad had a friend make him a boat - the fishing was more interesting and fun.
     Vacations always start with plenty of preparation.  In the case of the Riggan vacation that meant that, come January, Mom started buying up extra bread, lunch meat, milk and any other perishables and tossing them in the freezer.  Once the freezer was full she was ready for camping on Old Hickory Lake for two weeks.
     When the big day came Dad loaded up the car and boat and made several trips to the end of the road at Cedar Creek - about three miles from home.  We set up our canvas tents and laid out our sleeping bags or blankets, iced up the coolers and assembled the grill.  For the next two weeks we became water babies deeply tanned to a dark brown.
      Dad always put out a trot line to catch catfish and limb lines to catch turtles and there was always a rod and reel laying on the bank with a line in the water.  To round off the day we fished for crappie.
     Dad's bootlegger friend, Grady Campbell, would come out and set up camp.  Along with him would be his wife, his daughter Sadie and her son whose name escapes me at the moment but it may have been Junior.
     Now Grady was Dad's bootlegger and he was also a commercial fisherman - which job was his main source of income was a matter of conjecture.  Grady would put out a snag line on which he would catch spoonbill catfish.  Spoonbills were not like regular catfish, they would come to the surface at night and feed on insects and whatever.  Grady's snag line would foul hook them. Spoonbills had no bones and were delicious.
     The first year we camped out Dad had a 12 ft john boat with a 12 hp motor that we fished and water skied from.  We also used it to make freezer runs back up the creek to the house.   It was only a couple of miles by water and it didn't matter that things would thaw out on the way back.  During one of these freezer runs Dad, brother Pat and I were in the boat.  Dad was driving when we reached the old bridge and had to slow to a crawl because the water was shallow and full of stumps.  Dad slowed down and then cut the motor off and we thought he had sheared a pin on the propeller but he whispered and told us to be quite as he sculled the boat towards a sleeping turtle.  All of a sudden Dad reached in the water and grabbed the turtle by the tail and pulled him in the boat.  Naturally he threw turtle in the front of the boat.
     For those of you not familiar with wooden john boats let me tell you that they are the most simplistic of boats in that they have a hull and two or three boards to sit on.  We had three if you counted the bow.  When Dad threw the turtle up front he did so that the turtle landed on it's back. There was brother Pat and I barefooted and trying to squat on our seats and there was this turtle trying to flop over onto it's belly and Dad yelling at us to not let it flip over.  Did I mention that this was a snapping turtle better than a foot in diameter?  This thing was huge.   It not only had a sharp beaked mouth that chewed thru a wooden boat paddle, it also had long claws.  By the time we got the things Mom needed back to the boat the turtle had flipped over and he wasn't about to be flipped again.  Pat and I road back to the camp holding the turtle at bay with a boat paddle.   Dad seemed to think it was funny watching Pat and I fend off an angry turtle.  Did you know fried turtle taste like fried chicken?
     Dad always had some of his buddies stop for a beer or two so there was always plenty of people around and of course southern hospitality said you had to offer them to stay and eat.  Mom always seemed to be cooking something and taking care of Ronnie and Vickie (they were not in school when we first started camping).  She always said she had fun but I think she was glad to be back home when it was over.
     The next year Dad had traded the john boat for a wooden ski boat with a 35 hp motor.   This was great as it was faster and could pull us up on one ski or pull up Pat and I at the same time.  When we weren't fishing we were skiing or swimming or swinging from the rope swing.   The sun was warm the water cool and the days were long.  Tom Sawyer had nothing on us.
     Now little brother Clint, who was six years my junior, was at the stage that he was no longer a little kid but he really was just a little kid and he had to try to keep up with his big brothers.  We tried to teach him to ski and he must have swallowed a big chunk of the lake.  We didn't drown him although it was not because we didn't try.
     Our family vacations continued on until we moved to Hermitage Hills in 1965 and I went off to the Navy.  They were good times and I look back with fond memories because for two weeks every year for four years we were a family and did things together.
     I am glad to hear Vickie had a family vacation that harbors good memories, everyone needs good times to remember.

Bits and Pieces

                            Bits And Pieces

    
     Just when you think you have exhausted your memory banks and can no longer conjure up past events something happens to jog the cobwebs of the mind and a long forgotten, uneventful and seemingly useless bit of memory springs forth.  Quite often these bits and pieces of long ago pop up with an odd scent of perfume or aroma as it enters the nostrils.   Sometimes it is listening to someone telling a story or even the roadside scenery as you drive thru the countryside. There is an aroma in the meat department of every grocery store I have ever been in.  It makes me look up to see if my Dad is there slicing a roast out of a side of beef. Our memory banks are filled with past events that await the slightest jogging to bring them out.
    
     I was just watching an episode of Georgia Outdoors and they were showing where an old church used to stand in a rural area. The church was built and attended by slaves and their offspring but all that remained was an outline of the foundation.  A new church sits nearby attended by descendants of the founders.  Now, I'm not what you would call a religious person.  I can't remember the last time I was in a church but there was a time when I did attend on occasion and this documentary reminded me of those times.
     The Baptist church in Lagardo, Tn was a small white wooden frame building with tall windows that let in light and cool breezes.  It is like a scene from a post card.  It sat just off the main road on a slight rise with a forest of oak and cedar trees for a background. There were large outcroppings of limestone boulders dotting the lawn / parking area.  They were worn smooth from years of wear. There was no particular driveway, you just turned off the main road and parked as you chose .
     The pews were made of oak without cushions.  There were two rooms behind the alter where Sunday school and vacation bible school classes were held. There was a steeple on top and although I don't remember hearing it, there was probably a bell in the steeple to call the congregation together. The floors were wooden and echoed with the sounds of the leather sole shoes as people moved about. The church seemed to have a reverberation that intensified the sounds of the people in attendance.  The preacher's voice carried to every corner when he spoke - without amplification. Compared to today's churches it was small.  The whole church would fit into one class room of one of today's mega churches.
     Grandpa Riggan attended the Lagardo Baptist Church every Sunday and most Wednesday nights as did his father. Some foggy memory of the past tells me he was a Deacon of the church.  He was certainly an elder. When I spent the summer with Granny and Grandpa I would go to church and sit beside Grandpa on the hard wooden pew.  Grandpa would have to put his hand on my shoulder to get me to stop squirming. I was too young to really know what was going on but I learned that God was great and Jesus loved me. The sermons could be and were often filled with Hellfire and Brimstone and through them all Grandpa would sit holding his open Bible and nodding his head in agreement with the preacher.  Every now and then I would hear an Amen come from his lips. The congregation was small in comparison with today but everyone knew each other and in some cases several generations of a family were in attendance.  I was known as Mr. Howard's Grandson .
      I was by the church several years ago.  The church still stands just as I remember.  Obviously, the congregation has grown over the years and a newer larger brick church stands a short distance away.  A sign has been erected to let everyone know that an even newer larger church is forth coming.  I am happy to see that with the growth of the congregation they have held on to and protected the past. Grandpa would be proud.


     Grandpa Riggan was laid back and easy going.  He moved with a calm determination as if he failed in his quest, the world as he knew it might fall prey to some major catastrophe.  He was a deeply religious man and found in the Bible a solace that seemed to regenerate his mind and body for the task that lie ahead. Sunday was the Lord's Day, the only work he performed was milking the cows and feeding the animals, beyond that he rested, went to church, prayed and enjoyed his family who came to see him.
     On days when the weather was foul or when his work was done for the day he often picked up his Bible.  One of his favorite places to read was on the front porch. There were several ladder back wooden chairs with cane seats.  Grandpa would pull the chair out from the wall, sit down and lean back until the chair reclined against the wall (this was the predecessor of the recliner),  his feet propped in the stretcher at the bottom of the chair.   He would put on his gold rimmed glasses, push tobacco into his corn cob pipe and read a favorite passage. Granny would some times join him as she shelled beans. When the ol' man winter forced him inside he would pull up an old arm chair next to the window.  Even on a cloudy day the extra light helped him to see.
     There was another side of Grandpa and Granny that most people never saw.   They were wrestling fans. We are talking mega fans!
     Some time in the 1950's their kids got them a TV.  It was small, maybe 19", and was hooked to an outside antenna mounted to the roof.  There were only three channels - broadcast in black and white and by midnight they were off the air until about 6:30 the next morning.  Granny got hooked on the soap operas and Grandpa would watch a few programs at night.  Generally the TV didn't change them from their daily routines until Saturday night.
     On Saturday nights live wrestling was broadcast from the Hippodrome ( an old skating rink ) in Nashville. The event also brought in at least one and sometimes two nearby families to watch the modern marvel. The broadcast was one of the last things on the schedule and didn't get over until around 11:00.  This was the only night they stayed up past 9:30.
     Grandpa and Granny would get so wound up in the fights they would literally come out of their chairs and shout at the screen as if they were in the audience . "Hit him again " or " kick him " was heard quite often. The first time I witnessed the spectacle I was scared.  I had never seen Grandpa get agitated or heard him raise his voice.
     This was the man who I looked up to and even today love and miss .

     Another thing I remember from my time in Lagardo was a small stream that crossed the gravel road that passed Grandpa's farm. The stream meandered thru some woods on his property and the farm animals had a path worn from the paddock to the shallow banks forming a watering hole of sorts.  About twice each summer Grandpa would pull on his milking boots take a milk pail, rags and soap and drive his car to where the stream crossed the road.   He would stop midstream and wash the car.
     When I got older and was allowed to wander off alone I would often find myself at the stream (seems fire and water hold great fascination for young boys).  When I was thirsty it held the sweetest water and I had no problem getting down on my hands and knees to lap at the surface.
      I could spend hours watching the minnows swim around and spider like water bugs glide effortlessly across the surface.  If I was patient I could spy a crayfish and if quick enough catch him.
     Before Old Hickory lake was created the stream would wind through the woods and eventually enter into the Cumberland river a couple of miles down.  I never followed it all the way but did explore a good portion of it.  Most of the stream was narrow enough that I as a small boy could jump from one side to the next. The banks and toppled trees provided me with many hours of fun and excitement and was one of the best classrooms of my youth.
     The road is still narrow and has been covered with tar and gravel and there are several homes where once there were fields.  A concrete pipe is buried where the stream once flowed across the gravel road. The stream itself is a trickle of what it once was.  Like many things, the wheels of progress have stymied the natural flow that once made the stream special. The water I'm sure is no longer sweet or even drinkable. Only in our memory does the world not change .

     Where I live now is about three miles from a railroad and on a calm night even with the house closed up you can hear the trains blow their horns as they approach the crossing.
     As a teen I lived in Mt. Juliet , Tn. which was at that time very much a rural area.  As the crow flies we were about two miles from the main highway (crows didn't lay out the roads though). Lebanon Rd. back then was " the " main highway, and as this was before interstate highways, it was two lanes and traffic was constantly on the go.
      This was 1960.   We lived in a new three bedroom brick house.   Air conditioning was an option then that would take a $12,000 home and add about $1,000 to the total price so therefore we went without.  What we did have was a large window fan that drew outside air thru out the house in the warm months.  On really hot days the house would maybe cool down to tolerable temperatures about 3:00 am.
     Having a fan meant that all of the windows in the house were open.  Screens kept out the bugs but allowed the voices of nature  (crickets , frogs, and owls) to sing us to sleep.
     There was a roadhouse down on the main highway called, if I remember correctly, Twin Gables.  It was sort of a roadhouse / restaurant / beer joint / truck stop with Hank Williams and Patsy Cline singing on the Juke Box.  Truck drivers frequented the establishment nightly and on a calm night I could hear them as they got back on the road heading for Lebanon or Nashville.  I could hear the truckers shift their gears from first to second, from low to high .
     Many was the night I would lie in my bed unable to sleep because of the heat and humidity. Instead of counting sheep I would count gears as the drivers pulled on to the road to continue their journey.  It seemed that you could hear the trucks for miles down the road and when finally I did fall asleep it would be a deep sleep unaffected by the heat.

     Another thing about Twin Gables was it was owned by a man who Dad said was or used to be a magician.  One night Dad took us to Twin Gables and I remember sitting at the bar.  Little brother Ronnie was about 4 or 5 at the time and Dad sat him up on the bar and the owner showed us a small piece of pink foam cut in the shape of a rabbit.  He showed Ronnie the rabbit and told him the rabbit was lonely and needed a friend so he squeezed the foam in his fingers quickly opening them and two rabbits popped out.  Ronnie thought this was the neatest thing but was amazed more when the guy squeezed again this time out popped two rabbits and four smaller ones. They say the hand is quicker than the eye.  I don't know how he did it but Ronnie was astounded.
     I can't remember the man's name or that of his daughter who I went to school with, but the man loved kids.  According to Dad he was performing his magic show in a theater one night when fire broke out and he was able to calmly get  all of the audience, which was mostly kids, out of the theater unharmed.
     Like of lot of things from the past, Twin Gables is only a memory as it caught fire several years later and was never rebuilt.


     My brother Pat and I were only 15 months apart in age.  At Christmas we generally got the same gifts from Santa Clause. Though we are different, Santa seemed to think we were twins.
     One year when we lived in Mt. Juliet Santa brought us a small Philco radio that we had to share. We were teenagers then and on that Christmas night we stayed up late listening to whatever channels we could get. That late at night in the early 60's you could get about two stations - one station was WSM out of Nashville and the other was WLS broadcast from Chicago, Illinois .
     WSM was a country and western station.  That was fine for Mom and Dad but this was the era of Elvis and the Beattles. WLS played rock and roll and bragged about their 50,000 watt broadcast antenna that at night was aimed into the south  (years later when driving late at night WLS was the only channel to come in clear). We baby sat our siblings that New Years Eve and after the young ones went to bed we listened to the radio after the TV channels went off air.
     I find it somewhat strange that back then I could care less about country music and today that is about all Linda and I listen to.
    


     Writing about Mt. Juliet brought to mind when Linda and I bought a house out by Cedar Creek Boat Dock.
     Prior to moving to Cedar Creek,  Linda and I had lived in the suburbs of Nashville specifically Hermitage Hills and Inglewood and we worked in downtown Nashville.  The noise was constant -barking dogs, speeding cars, sirens and screaming kids.
     The house we bought was in a small development of maybe 15 homes with either lakefront property or lakefront views.   We had a lakefront view if you stood on the front porch on your toes.   It was our first new home and it was close to the lake where we kept our boat.
     As we were moving in Mom and Dad came by to see the place. Dad and I stepped out the back door and were talking as the sun started to set when I suddenly told him to be quiet and listen.  Dad intently listened turning his head from side to side straining his hearing for the familiar sounds he would hear around his home in the suburbs.  After a few moments Dad said, " I don't hear anything."
     In fact there were all kinds of sounds - a whippoorwill in the woods behind the house, bullfrogs down by the lake, an owl in the woods across the road, and crickets in the bushes around the house.
      After Dad said he didn't hear anything I looked at him and said, " yeah , quiet isn't it? "


     One night while watching a movie on the mess deck of the USS Alamo as we laid a couple of miles off the shores of Vietnam, the klaxon calling us to general quarters went off.  The ship went into action as the sailors quickly manned their battle stations and the ship itself sped  up  and maneuvered erratically.  We had been attacked .  There had been an explosion on the bridge and a man had been wounded .
     Outside, the night was dark and void of any light source and though we were a couple of miles off shore we were surrounded by small Vietnamese sampans ( fishing boats ) .
     Word quickly spread that a hand grenade had been tossed on the bridge and exploded on the deck outside the Chiefs quarters and a helmsman had been wounded. Obviously a Vietnamese fisherman had tossed the grenade from his boat, but which sampan and which fisherman did the dirty deed?  We remained at general quarters for a couple of hours before we called it a night and went to sleep.
     The next day we found out that someone figured out that a Vietnamese fisherman was too small to toss a hand grenade some 80 feet up in the air and another 30 feet or so over from his boat to the bridge.  The Vietnamese are small people.  Well, if we were not attacked by the enemy then there was a joker among us.  It didn't take long for the investigation to lead to a Marine private who was pissed off with his Gunny Sargent  who happened to be playing cards with the Navy Chiefs in their quarters.
     We all had heard stories about officers who were killed or wounded by hand grenades tossed into their tents by one of their men but we never knew the stories to be true until that night.   I wonder if that private ever got out of the brig ?



   


    
    
    
    

New Beginnings

                                                      New Beginnings

     All of my postings so far have been about the past, not that I want to hold on to the past so much but the past is where I once lived, where I once played and built memories that have lasted a lifetime. I have enjoyed writing these stories and think I have a few more yet to tell but now I am going to break precedent and speak of the future.
     Saturday, the 15th of December 2012 at 12:13 pm a most beautiful little brunette entered my life, she weighed in at 6 lbs. 5 oz and stood 19 in tall, she immediately stole my heart. I am speaking of my Granddaughter Michaela Judy Riggan.
     It was love at first sight as I held her in my arms for the first time and looked into her eyes, her tiny fingers struggled to wrap around one of mine but she managed a grip and held on tight. I wanted to cry out of sheer joy for the moment but too many tears had rolled down my cheeks lately. I do not want Michaela's life to start out in tears even if they are for joy, her childhood should be filled with laughter, her youth with excitement and her life with happiness.
     To me Michaela is a bright star on the horizon of the evening sky twinkling and shining brighter as it rises higher into the darkness that cloaks us. She is the future of this branch of the Riggan family and I look forward to making memories that will last her a lifetime.
     Today I watched as her Grandmother held her, I saw a twinkle in Linda's eyes that was once reserved for Danny and Clay, I think though this twinkle may be brighter for Michaela. This little girl has captivated us both, as Grandparents we promise to willingly fulfill our duties and responsibilities to her; she will be loved and spoiled as Linda and I have been waiting for her for a long time.  All I can say is the wait was worth every moment. Thank you, Marie, for the gleam you put in Linda's eye and the smile on her face, we love you.
     I watched my son gently work his fingers around Michael's body as he picked her up to place her in my arms, the expression on his face was one of love and pride. My mind went back some 32 years to a night when I gazed upon his face for the first time, I wondered if fathers thru the ages have had the same expressions and feelings, I think so, there is something about your first born that never changes.
     I want to say to Danny and Marie that we are proud of you and love you very much, Michaela's arrival could not have come at a better time, this is the best Christmas present I or Linda have ever received.

     As for Michaela, just grab my finger and hold on tight. The path is not always smooth but your Mom, Dad, Grandmother and I will do our best to keep a smile on your face and laughter in your voice.

     Postscript: 

            This was a serious time for Linda, she had been taken to the emergency room several days before and laid in ICU with a tube down her throat for two days, there was serious doubt she would last through the first night. She needed open heart surgery but was too weak for the procedure so she was spending time in the hospital to build up her strength. Her doctor allowed her to be taken down to the hospital cafe to see MJ, the staff knew the surgery was iffy and this could be the only time she would ever see MJ.

You Can't Pick Your Relatives

                            You Can't Pick Your Relatives





     Computers, although a pain in the butt, are really interesting things to have around when you can just goof off with them.  The other day I Googled myself and came up with over 40 pages of references to Michael, to Douglas, and to Riggan.  From there I found other interesting tidbits of information, both good and not so good, pertaining to the Riggan clan.
     For instance, there is a Riggan cemetery in Monroe County, MS. and a street named Riggan in Olive Branch, MS.  I had no idea the clan had spread that far but it seems that the largest population of Riggan's is located in North Carolina followed by Virgina then Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Texas.  The ancestors didn't stop there as there are now people with the surname of Riggan in just about every state in the US.
    There is a cemetery in Bridgeport, Washington where Allie, Edward, Hazel, Johnny, Mary,  and Sandra are laid to rest.  They are all Riggan .
     I was interested to find more about the history of the Riggan clan such as a website that says the name Riggan originally came from France in the 1500's.  They were Huguenots, French Protestants,  who left the southern regions of  France for England in search of religious freedom.  Based on this I can now say that my ancestry encompasses French , English , Scottish and Irish.  My memory of world history tells me that France was over run by the Romans and Germanic tribes of the region as well as traded with the Vikings.  I have often wondered where I came from and now find myself still wondering.
     There is a Riggan in most every branch of the service and every level of responsibility and every ruckus the nation has ever been in had a Riggan to back it up.  Francis Riggan, one of my Great Great Great Fathers , fought as a Private in the Revolutionary war.  He was from Warren County, NC and in 1833 at the age of seventy he started drawing a pension of $20.00 per month for his service . There was also a William P. Riggan who fought in the revolution.  He was a Private from Halifax County, NC .  He also drew a $20.00 pension at age 73.   Wonder if this is who my brother Pat is named after?
     In researching Francis I found his will and the will of Michael  I. Riggan who died around 1853. Seeing as how he is the only ancestor I have run across named Michael, I guess I was named after him.  Works for me .
     During the Civil War the surname Riggan was found in Confederate records 50 times and in Union records 11 times.
     There was a Walter G. Riggan in Denver, Co who fought in the Spanish American War.  He was an Assistant Adjutant and Quartermaster for the General Lawton Camp # 1 of the United Spanish American War Veterans in 1931.  He was born in 1874 and died in 1963.
     Edward C. Riggan from Parker, OK fought as a Private in WWI.  Of course Dad and his brothers fought in WWII.  Brother Pat and I were in Viet Nam and little sister Vickie did a hitch in the Navy during the 1980's.
     Many of our cousins are involved in higher education . The Dean's List and Honor Rolls of many colleges and universities across the country are riddled with the name of Riggan.  Joyce Ann Riggan made the Dean's list for the last two years running at Bevill State Com. College in Alabama .
     There is a Rev. Walter Riggan who is a tutor and lecturer at the All Nations College in Hertfordshire, England.  He is also an ordained minister in the Church of Scotland.
     Robert Ethan Riggan is a Theatrical student at Middle Tenn State University in Murfreesboro, Tn.
     Need legal advice?  Call cousin Russ of the Russ Riggan Law Firm LLC in Kirkwood, Mo.  Maybe he will give a family rate.
     Do not call (hopefully very distant cousin), Robert Lee Riggan Jr in Denver, Co.  He tried to represent himself in a murder trial and failed.  In 1997 he was convicted of first degree murder in the death of a 21 yr old prostitute .  A jury gave him the death penalty but a panel of judges converted the sentence to life without parole.  I guess every family has a closet with relatives no one wants to claim and from what I read Robert and his immediate family would fill a couple of closets.  Just be sure to throw away the key .
     On a lighter side, I have said in a previous blog that little sister Vickie was a one and only - well, that ain't so.  I have discovered a Vickie Lynn Riggan in Lone Tree, Iowa.  I'm not good enough to figure out what she does there but her name was listed twice in the local newspaper with dollar amounts next to them.  Either she is owed a lot of money or she owes a lot of money.  I'll let little sister decide if she wants to contact her doppelganger . But wait , after talking with little sister she said there is another Vickie Lynn Riggan in of all places Nashville , TN. . This brings us to the question - might there be more ?
     Little sister Vickie has a friend named Brenda Baird.  I was interested to find a site that confirms the Baird and Riggan families are related by marriage.  In one instance a Baird guy married a Riggan girl and in another case a Riggan guy married a Baird girl.  Guess that means Brenda and I are cousins?
     Jerrod A. Riggan of Brewster,WA was drafted to the NY Mets baseball team in 2000 as a pitcher and played two seasons before being traded to the Cleveland Indians for another season.  He wound up playing for the Hanshin Tigers in Japan in the 2003-2004 season.  I also found a Jerrod Riggan as a Columbia River fishing guide - maybe he gave up on baseball?
     Scott Riggan is a music minister in Eagle, Idaho.  He recorded a version of Silent Night in 2003 and has quite a list of religious recordings in his name.
      Last but not least there is a John Riggan that works for the Nashville Zoo.
      I never knew the Riggan clan had grown so large or that it contained so many people that have or had such interesting lives.  All of these people and more have the Riggan name in common and they all can trace their beginnings back to a few ancestors who set foot in America in the mid 1600's.  This does not include the daughters of our ancestors who married into other families and whose offspring may very well be your next door neighbor.  Kinda adds a whole new meaning to the phrase  "small world ".
     The Internet has opened up a whole new world for me.  It is nice to know that when I get so decrepit that all I can do is sit in front of a computer I can at least keep up with cousins I will probably never meet or get to know but with whom I share a name .