On Friday, September 23, 2005, my phone rang at 5 a.m. The caller was James McCoy, a White House liaison specialist. He had gotten my message last night but had refrained from calling me until he had something to report.
Now he informed me that my request for military honors for my late father was being processed.
But he warned me that the records needed to secure an honor guard might not be available at the U.S. Military Records Center in St. Louis.
A 1973 fire had destroyed many of these records, and if my father’s was among them, it would take too long to “rebuild” a new one for him to get an honor guard within three days.
Later that morning I got a call from the National Personnel Records Center.
A woman named Connie asked me to type up and submit, via fax, a twice-signed statement declaring that, under penalty of perjury, the information I had provided about my father’s military service was true and correct.
Upon receipt of this, she would fax to the funeral home a copy of my father’s service number and Separation Document.
Shortly after faxing this off, I got a call from Ursula, another employee of the National Personnel Records Center.
She said that the above-mentioned items had been faxed to the Richard Pierce Funeral Service Chapel in Napa. All that I now had to do was arrange for the Chapel to make the arrangements with the military.
I called the Chapel around noon and was told that the documents had arrived, but that all of the home’s funeral directors were comforting grieving families. I said I would call back later.
When I did, at about 1:45 p.m., I was told that the home’s director had been informed. Messages had been left with several military institutions, requesting an honor guard.
The question was: Would they call back in time?
So I called several numbers at Travis Air Force base in Fairfield, finally reaching a chaplain at the Chaplain’s office.
Travis Air Force Base
He promised to do what he could for me. He warned me that it might not be possible to assemble an honor guard on such short notice.
The reason: This was hurricane season, and many soldiers had been deployed to the Gulf Coast area to assist the victims of Hurricane Katrina.
His parting words were an expression of sorrow for my loss, and “God bless you.”
Next, I spoke with Jacob Bergholtz, a senior airman at Travis Air Force Base. He promised to make some calls on my behalf.
He also gave me the number to the Army Honor Guard and I put in a call.
Finally, in late afternoon, I got a call from Tina Patterson, with the Army at Fort Lewis in Washington State, and she assured me that “it’s a go.”
The military has a proud tradition of honoring its dead. Those who have died in combat are held in a special reverence. But even those who have died in peacetime still command respect for having served their country.
It was that tradition that, above all else, I had counted on to make this possible.
I was so caught off-guard by the unexpected good news that at the end I thanked “Miss Lewis” for all her help, then corrected myself and thanked her again.
At about 1:40 p.m. on Sunday, September 25, 2005, the front door to the funeral home opened and in walked three men wearing green military uniforms.
One was a bugler, who held the rank of sergeant. The second was a sergeant, who would take part in the actual flag-folding. And the third was a sergeant-major, who wuld preside over the ceremony. A fourth sergeant was scheduled to arrive, and he soon did.
At 2 p.m., the memorial service began.
When the tributes ended to my father ended, the funeral director introduced the honor guard. The buglar remained in the back of the chapel, as the other three strode to the front.
The bugler launched into “Taps” and gave it a melancholy feel, letting each note linger.
When the last notes died away, the sergeant-major ordered the two other sergeants to unfold the tri-cornered American flag that had been placed on a stand at the front of the chapel even before the ceremony had started.
A flag-folding ceremony
They did so, and then slowly re-folded it, in a process that took longer than I had imagined.
The flag folding ceremony now over, the sergeant-major accepted the flag, walked to my sister, Erica, leaned forward slightly, and presented it to her “on behalf of a grateful Nation and the Army” in recognition of the service of her father, Technical Sergeant Gerald A. White, for services to his country.
Erica accepted the flag, and I–sitting on her right side–saw her show emotion as she did so.
At 2:45 p.m., the four sergeants then strode out of the chapel, and the memorial service was over.


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TV CENSORS: SLEAZE IS IN, PATRIOTISM IS OUT
In Bureaucracy, Entertainment, History, Politics, Social commentary on September 24, 2015 at 12:04 amOn November 7, 2013, American television culture took yet another step deeper into Toiletville.
It was the Two and Half Men episode, “Justice in Star-Spangled Hot Pants.” And it starred Lynda Carter as the target of a crush that was both infantile and obscene.
Carter, of course, is the singer/actress best-known for her role as Wonder Woman (1975-1979).
And watching this episode of Men, it was hard to tell where the real-life Carter left off and the fictional character she was playing took over.
Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman
Here, in brief, was the plotline:
Alan Harper (Jon Cryer) learns that his roommate, Walden Schmidt (Ashton Kutcher) knows Lynda Carter.
Having an enormous crush on Carter from his years of watching her as Wonder Woman, Alan asks Walden to set him up on a date with her.
Against his better judgment, Walden agrees to invite her to the house for dinner.
Now, if Carter had been playing a fictional character, there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with this premise. Nobody, after all, would have mistaken Laurence Olivier for Richard III.
But she wasn’t. She was playing herself.
And, in her real-life self, she was then 62. An admittedly good-looking 62, but, even so, a woman about 40 years older than the character (Alan) who wants to meet her.
And not simply meet her. Bone her.
Bone her? Yes–that’s exactly what he says when Walden initially turns down his request to introduce him to her: “Now I’ll never get to bone Lynda Carter.”
And since Carter was playing herself, it’s useful to recall that she is, in real-life, a married woman (since 1984 to attorney Robert Altman).
And the show achieved an even lower level of crassness when Walden says Alan is so desperate to meet Carter that he’d skulk around in the bushes in front of her house.
“Wow, Lynda Carter’s bush,” says Alan, practically salivating over the contemplation of a 62-year-old woman’s vagina.
But males weren’t the only gender who got to descend to new depths of bad taste in this episode. There was the character of Jenny (Amber Tamblyn), the lesbian sister of the departed character Charlie (Charlie Sheen).
Again, the show’s writers simply couldn’t resist the temptation to mix real-life with fantasy.
Jenny is, at first, not even aware who Lynda Carter is until Alan, shocked, clues her in on the juvenile series she’s best-known for.
And, after meeting Carter, Jenny remains unimpressed. There’s an edginess in her voice as she comes face-to-face with the actress who’s well-known for supporting gay and lesbian rights.
“I understand you’re into cuffs,” she tells Carter–a reference to the “magic bracelets” worn by her character, Wonder Woman.
But it’s also a double entendre, conjuring up the image of Carter (perhaps in her Wonder Woman outfit) staked out on a bed in a bondage fantasy.
For all of Alan’s over-the-top infatuation with Carter, it’s not him that she’s interested in. It’s his buddy, Walden (Ashton Kutcher).
Lynda Carter and Ashton Kutcher
And to prove it, she gives him a real smackeroo of a kiss.
Which may well have conjured up, for him, real-life memories of his May-December marriage to the actress Demi Moore.
Kutcher was 27 when he tied the knot with Moore in 2005. Moore, by contrast, was 42.
The marriage ended in 2013, amid tabloid reports that Kutcher had cheated on her with Sara Leal, a 22-year-old San Diego-based administrative assistant. Moore by then was 51.
Kutcher, born in 1978, was still rolling around in his cradle while Carter–born in 1951–was wrapping up her third and final season as Wonder Woman.
So, for Kutcher, maybe it was a case of deja vu all over again.
So much for network TV censors’ attitude toward sleaze. Now for their attitude toward patriotism.
On Veterans Day from 2001 to 2004, the American Broadcasting Company (ABC) aired the 1998 Steven Spielberg World War II classic, Saving Private Ryan, uncut and with limited commercial interruptions.
Both the grity, realistic battle scenes and profanity were left intact.
Storming the beach at Normandy in Saving Private Ryan
But in 2004, its airing was marked by pre-emptions by 65 ABC affiliates.
The reason: The backlash over Super Bowl XXXVIII’s halftime show controversy (starring the infamous bared breast of Janet Jackson).
The affiliates—28% of the network—did not clear the available timeslot for the film.
And this was even after the Walt Disney Company–which owns ABC–offered to pay all fines for language to the FCC.
No complaints, however, were lodged with the FCC.
It speaks volumes to the priorities–and values–of American television when a film honoring the wartime sacrifices of American soldiers is banned from network TV.
And it speaks volumes as well to the priorities–and values–of American television when a casually juvenile and crudity-laced series like Two and a Half Men becomes CBS’ biggest cash cow.
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