tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46875157198677208362024-03-13T11:00:44.789-07:00I AM DON WOODI AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-68953905691320530692018-07-23T09:51:00.002-07:002018-07-23T09:51:51.763-07:00Getting from A to B.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c3/George_Caleb_Bingham_-_Boatmen_on_the_Missouri_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="800" height="524" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c3/George_Caleb_Bingham_-_Boatmen_on_the_Missouri_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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On May 14th of 1804 Lewis and Clark departed Camp Dubois (Camp Wood) just north of St Louis, Mo. Their main goal was to find a water passage to the Pacific Ocean. Lewis was 29yrs old and Clark, 33. On 8 Aug. 1805 they reached the headwaters of the Missouri River at Three Forks, Mt. 16 months, covering 2,464 miles, traveling the longest river in America UPSTREAM.<br />
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<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/ff/Missouri_River_basin_map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="575" data-original-width="800" height="458" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/ff/Missouri_River_basin_map.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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A short trip ain't my thing and I'd much rather, when it comes to water, go with the flow.<br />
Mid August I will be in Great Falls Montana to build The raft that will transport us downstream to the Mississippi River. I will be accompanied by my "second in command". 2nd Lieutenant Frederica Carter from Alabama. a bitch dog of the Southern Blackmouth Cur breed.<br />
After the assembly of our raft, we will be shuttled 160miles south to The Missouri River Headwaters State Park where we will start our journey by canoe. ( I do not wish to ride a raft through the waterfalls and carrying a canoe around is preferable to dragging a raft).<br />
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YES.. There is a PURPOSE.<br />
<br />
Veterans Dignity Project Inc.<br />
A 501c-3 non profit organization was formed to improve the lives of Veterans. We have defined two ways to do that. Come See.... and Go Tell.<br />
<br />
This journey is about Go Tell.<br />
Educating the general public about the problems facing OUR Veterans is part of the solution. My goal is to have that conversation. As Some of you might know, I have a story to tell. My time dealing with the Veterans Administration has given me a first hand understanding of some of these problems. Soapbox preaching ain't my thing but I have no problem with town hall meetings, interviews, rallys and any other place where people are gathered. <br />
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This journey is also about raising funds to grow this outreach program. It is my plan to acquire the equipment necessary to set up our mobile operation. A large military style tent. a propane cooking griddle. coolers. cooking supplies and other support equipment. <br />
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How can YOU help.?<br />
Spread the word. Share our information with your friends and family. Get involved. We have but two purposes in this life. To Give and To Grow. This is what is right and Honorable.<br />
If you live within a reasonable distance of the Missouri River, reach out to me. Lets brainstorm some ideas about how to gather a crowd.<br />
<br />
If you would like to financially support our efforts,<br />
PAYPAL. Veterans Dignity Project Inc.<br />
(this journey is being funded out of my pocket, not by contributions)<br />
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Thank you in advance for your time, support and consideration.<br />
<br />
Don Wood<br />
www. veteransdignityproject.org<br />
<a href="mailto:veteransdignityproject@gmail.com">veteransdignityproject@gmail.com</a><br />
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-47932593897231172672018-07-01T18:19:00.000-07:002018-07-01T18:19:39.147-07:00Veterans Dignity Project Inc.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Bf9RprMIg8/VtN-cD6Ec2I/AAAAAAAAC4s/3-pVv8jh_tEY0Ffc-MwVH6wNwy3WGI9zwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/12074754_1511127839197696_6635190600485942540_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="709" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Bf9RprMIg8/VtN-cD6Ec2I/AAAAAAAAC4s/3-pVv8jh_tEY0Ffc-MwVH6wNwy3WGI9zwCPcBGAYYCw/s320/12074754_1511127839197696_6635190600485942540_n.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
I got a message one day... "Don, I'd like to talk with you about an employee of mine, He's a Veteran". <br />
Not the first time that this has happened. I have been very public and forthcoming about Veterans Dignity Project and what my vision for this non profit organization is. Because of this I have been contacted by friends and friends of friends. Even a few completely cold calls. Just strangers reaching out, hoping they can find some guidance or compassion. These conversations bare on my heart.<br />
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I want to share with you one of the stories I have heard. It is my hope that you will find a bit more understanding in what some of OUR Veterans are going through.<br />
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I had never met the man with whom I was talking to. I asked for some details such as type of work, geographic location, type of business and such. Central Florida, privately owned retail store selling outdoor leisure equipment and services. After a short conversation, we identified some of the issues this Veteran was having. The employer was asking me questions because he saw the potential in this young man. The employer had no military experience. "He is slow to engage a new customer when they walk in the door". I felt that my "job" was to give this employer some insight as to what might be the cause. and I said, Imagine that YOU have just completed three rotations to Afghanistan with a combat Infantry unit. Imagine coming from a place where Everybody dresses the same. Some of them are "friendlies" and some of them are the enemy. Now, imagine that you have less than a moment to do a threat assessment on every individual or group that you encounter. Even a small mistake can cost you your life, or worse yet, the life of a comrade. That training does not go away when OUR military personnel come Home. <br />
The employer was now looking at this situation in Florida with different eyes than before. He said that he had never imagined what this young man was going through. He questioned whether He was asking too much of his employee.. My guidance to him was this.. Utilize his skills and through that process you will find one of the best employees you have ever known.. Understand that in the Military, everyone has a completely defined roll. Ask him to do a security assessment of your property. Seek his opinion about what to do in an active shooter scenario. How to protect co workers and customers when things go sideways..<br />
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To the employers credit, He was concerned for this person. We talked a bit about the treatments offered by the Veterans Administration. What we discussed next is what lit my fire.. <br />
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Three times a week, this Veteran has to leave work at lunch time. He rides a city bus to his therapy appointments at the VA. scheduled for 330pm. This might not seem like much to most,,, but let me tell you what I see.. He's Job scared. It takes an amazing employer to put up with "time away from work". Three times a week, this young man is being subjected to public transportation, ie. rushing crowds of people, loud noises, surrendering his safety to a stranger driving the bus, hyper vigilance, fight, flight or freeze, not to mention transfers and heaven forbid, the bus be late or break down.. (I have first hand knowledge about this from my time dealing with the VA in Atlanta. Scared)<br />
He needs treatment to get better.. He needs a full paycheck to get better. Many Veterans cannot do both. <br />
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There is a solution.. <br />
This Cat needs a car... <br />
Imagine how a set of wheels would have a positive impact on his life. You didn't "just" give him a Go machine,, You gave him a pay raise. (4hrs off work instead of 12hrs). You gave him the ability to go to a movie without being traumatized by public transportation.. (I swear, some of Americas "Public transportation systems" are either an annex of the department of corrections or a gateway to all the bad things of Hell)..<br />
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Here's the thing... It's called Dignity<br />
:The state or quality of being worthy of honor and respect.<br />
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Any Man or Woman, who has Honorably served their Country is worthy of Honor and Respect.<br />
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Here's what I'm gonna do..<br />
Veterans Dignity Project Inc. ( a non-profit Veterans service organization, registered) will purchase a used vehicle (around $2500). Preform the require maintenance. then present that vehicle to a "Validated" Veteran. ( I would also like to provide the funds to cover 6mths of car insurance) <br />
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I hope that it is understood... This is not one story one car. There are many Veterans who have a similar need. Life without wheels is miserable. We can help. <br />
<br />
please visit our website at <a href="http://www.veteransdignityproject.org/">www.veteransdignityproject.org</a> (we are making it better)<br />
or on Facebook.<br />
our Paypal account is Veterans Dignity Project Inc. <a href="mailto:donwood223@gmail.com">donwood223@gmail.com</a><br />
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Your tax deductible, charitable contribution will be greatly appreciated.<br />
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Thank you for your time and consideration.<br />
Don Wood<br />
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-8662674113789410642017-06-29T09:01:00.001-07:002017-06-29T09:01:34.772-07:00I am My Brothers Keeper..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d86PveV2Tws/WVUPK_POhPI/AAAAAAAAC9Y/HoeyqgKHWqMZOb5dL42BXvbhNcw9fHPYgCLcBGAs/s1600/19598902_10155260140340170_7770970796001854324_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="530" height="592" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d86PveV2Tws/WVUPK_POhPI/AAAAAAAAC9Y/HoeyqgKHWqMZOb5dL42BXvbhNcw9fHPYgCLcBGAs/s640/19598902_10155260140340170_7770970796001854324_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have noticed a trend. My Brothers have relationship issues.. I've battled the same issues for all of my adult life. It has a lot to do with our training.. We Always want our teammates to strive harder. To do better. To excel. We use manipulation, coercion and belittling as tools. Remember how we motivated each other to excel at our task.??? "Come on you pussy, you got more than that". "My sister can lift more weight than you". "If you ain't as good as me, you ain't shit". You have heard it all before.. On the training field. In the weight room. In the bars. Back on the block. All those times we were striving to excel.. Not everyone has trained to be better.. Most folks have just tried to survive from day to day. So, lets talk about relationships.. My frame of reference comes from failure. I've also witnessed the mistakes others have made.. <br />
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I'm not talking about the big things... Don't slap yer woman around. Don't gamble away the rent. Don't shit in yer own bed.. We all know those things.. I'm talking about the little things.. The way we care for the ones we chose to love. I treated my first wife like dogshit. She did not and would not strive to meet MY standard. She was willing to iron my uniform. She was not willing to do it to MY standard. It became a wedge between us. She could not understand that MY standard was set by My chain of command. I chose to iron my own uniforms. and each time I did, I drove that wedge in a little farther. Such a small thing in hindsight. But at the time, I was working towards a promotion, trying to provide better for my young family. <br />
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I once saw a preacher give a sermon about chopping fire wood.. He described our relationships as a solid log. He spoke of the wedge as what separates those relationships. He had a variety of hammers on display. A framing hammer. a ball peen hammer. A 3pound foundry hammer. a 12pound sledge hammer.. And the wedge. He picked up the framing hammer and set the wedge. "It doesn't take something big to get a wedge started". He spoke about how that sledge hammer could in a single blow separate that solid relationship. He likened that sledge hammer to what we would call "Big things" like adultery or killing. He picked up the framing hammer and struck the wedge again. The wedge barely moved. He picked up the foundry hammer. "with three or four good whacks, I'm sure I could split this log". And with the framing hammer, he tapped the wedge again. He likened the foundry hammer to the lesser evils we do in our relationships. Like lying or cheating. And with the framing hammer, he struck the wedge again. Not by force, but by repetition, the wedge sank deeper into the log. The ball peen hammer he said "it might take 10 or 15 hard swings but I know I can split this log". He struck the wedge again with the framing hammer.. And again. And again. And again. He likened that ball peen hammer to things like being untrustworthy and being selfish. And with the smallest hammer, he struck the wedge again. and again.<br />
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He likened the small framing hammer to the devastating little things we do over and over again in our relationships.. and he hit the wedge. He talked about how we do things that bother our partners, and he hit the wedge. the lack of caring, whack. the distance we allow to grow between us. whack. The manipulation. whack. The lack of understanding. whack. showing did-interest in your partners desires. whack. Not tending to your friends emotional needs. whack. belittling one another. THUD. The log fell in two pieces to the floor. With no hope of ever being solid again.<br />
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I am convinced that the only reason we are on this planet is to have a positive impact on others.. Our relationships should have the most value in our lives. Sometimes we get in a rut and it feels like we are just spinning our wheels. Own it. Do something about it. Learn to value the relationships that you are in.. He, or She, has more worth in your life than you give them credit for. Do your "homework'.. and fix that..<br />
<br />
from an attitude of Love..<br />
Peace&Grease<br />
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-25094062290652662732016-07-01T13:27:00.000-07:002016-07-01T13:27:25.522-07:00What is Veterans Dignity Project.?Nothing more than a dream right now... Only a vision of what has developed in my head.. I'd like to share that vision with you and the World..<br />
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Veterans Dignity Project is just that. A Project. The end goal is to improve the lives of Veterans.. Our mission statement is the same as the Veterans Administration.<br />
<img alt="Image result for veterans administration mission statement" 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" 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The VA system has been flooded with Veterans seeking services. America has been at War for over 20yrs. Through Veterans Dignity Project, it is my hope to help improve Veterans lives..<br />
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Veterans Dignity Project.. (VDP) is forming as a Non-Profit 501-c3 Veterans service organization. (the first step).<br />
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There are two distinct programs that I have visioned.. "Come See".. and "Go Tell".<br />
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VDP will secure and develop a 40 acre, rural property in the area south of Smoky Mountain National Park. I have chosen this area for many reasons. Natural beauty, proximity to outdoor activities, including The Appalachian Trail, white water rafting, horse back riding and the National Park. I have also chosen this area because of the million plus people who visit annually as "motor tourist". "Tail of The Dragon", Cherohala Skyway, Fontana Lake Loop and many other roads that have become destinations. Motorcycles and clubs, car clubs such as the Corvette club and many others choose this area for "Motor tourism".<br />
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VDP will be open to the public for use as a resort and base camp for individuals and clubs spending time in the area. Given the opportunity, people will support VDP through their patronage and charitable giving. Hikers and bikers, car clubs and families on vacation will all be welcome. Public awareness of the struggles Veterans encounter is part of the solution.<br />
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Named "Landing Zone Transition", we are planning a "Primitive working farm" resort. Several family size cabins and multiple 4 person cabins will be dispersed though-out the property. Short term housing for 30 people is the goal. A lodge type structure for operations and guest check in will be the central feature. A community pavilion equipped with food preparation area and comfy chairs. Group meetings and meals will be held next to a fireplace to rival any Bass Pro shop.. Also in the pavilion area will be a "Modern, Upscale" bath house and restrooms.<br />
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A circa 1900 Belt driven sawmill and woodworking shop will be in business on site, Producing top quality tables and chairs for sale as a fundraising effort. Everybody likes a working museum..<br />
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<img src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ea/44/10/ea4410b73a2c0ce4a7e071518a657ee4.jpg" /><br />
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<img src="http://www.mtfca.com/discus/messages/50893/79072.jpg" /><br />
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Providing work opportunities for Veterans who might be in need, our goal is not mass production but rather, producing the best quality out of simpleness..<br />
<img height="393" src="https://woodlandcreekfurniture.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/Dining-Table-Mission-Base.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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AU3niuCrsyfJEsyxW0Q1oMAR+bl0mQucq0ZMNIJGBvAg3mdpOrWsQoNGpTGSY0HRtPkFW87fCO9hJEDku3aTnRODm4G4gg4jHDxWez1zpX43993vXjNNvSqdd3kFPNp06gkFjhtEG8bxrU1k3ewkm1yRda1kRJunDAnDC+CfzqXg217r748B3KQqZNBIIMEGRfsMr8/RiNQ4i4/z71JSiIzyQ3W5ipZcDYBGjvbdPHapNmU3EREjaZB7bwucyrSOjpQ4jEmBIEYzHDvWrZ7cA2COJOk7dhgCpOXo40pbtUdVY8pzVdTPrCbySRdAugjFbNotHQcREwb4bs3yuQp24866oGuMggasTM9yy1so1XAgMAkReSbj3LjKVGXg8OyjUgtc4B10X4bbm7vJYH2kgSXE3ka7oiceK8fojydIm/wDr8SsjLCJ6RJ/mpPIi7GnF3RvZPyoGUnHSDXSdGSJmAAYON/ktC1ZUqvB9JUdwuHdeFmNmYNQ7VifaKbfpDsv8lBS9I7ONu2zBZC5wezDpNnhjEdo16lenJrR0cn0dpLyePOOHuCpTJJDnVHDAuHg0K9cxWxYaA3OPe9x96twybm7KM6Sgq9k8iItRjCIiA4jlXb8mpHZW/gf8FRVup9N3WPmvoXlCybVr2ZraTC9zageQImA14MTjiLlSb83rXUqvbTstdxDv8N4HAucAB3rPkT6jVia6S8OTo/2ZZN1Fo7rvcuic0EQRI2KCzEsVSjYKFKswsqMaQ5pIJHScReCRhCnleuDNLlkBlLM+yVZIp8279qn0fw+r4LkMrZk2ilLqUVm/VuqD9049hncrORVywxkWRzSiUYSQSCCCLiCCCNxBwXl4/PYrjyxkKhaR6VgJ1PFzxwd7jIVV5cyf+j2h9HS0gyIJEEhzWuE774WaeJw3NWPKp7HHuctizuC1HBddkvMa31Gh3NtY1wkF72iQcLmyfBZuly4RrlKMeWQBdOAQSu8snJhVPztpY3cxhd4uLfJTVk5NrI3131anFwaPwgHxU1psj8FL1ONeSq9H8/zUxkg9B3E+Q/ParVsmaVhp+rZqZ640z+OVzGelFrbQGtAaOaFwAAHSfsUpadwVtkVqFN9KRW+aPzlXru9yk8jM+TGMZqeblG5ou6VUfaO+Clch/q541PMqvy/yTZgbaHMsQqtJc4UdKXEukhsyZN+Cl7CSWgmJIB3b1CH+7T/659gqbyd6jeqPJdfAIvKY9E87vgoWzUZEC8nV2qdymPQv4DukKOyWyHM6w81KgmSlszYtVCg6vWpaDGRMubPSIaIaCTiRjC5K35aa1zWBhOlvAA81evKcf7Nr8af+6xfN+Vqg55l+Ez4LT2YqVGbvycbJiplN+oAeK1KluqHF57LvJaVW3N1LXNqlTUIrwQc5PybxqTiZ43r8c/BaXOlNMrpw67Noejcfr/wtV95ntixUOoD3klULmoPQuP1z5NV/5rD5HZ/um+IChh+7JZvoiUREWkyhERAEREAREQBERAFVGfLfl1Tfo+wwK11Vmfv667e1vshU5/qX4PsV+WL6IyR8xS+7Z7IXz40L6CyMfk9H7pnshU6VU2X6t2kbiIi2GELgM+v1n/Jb7T136r7Pw/KR90323qjUfQuwfcrPNM9Or13e5TORD8nd1qnmVBZsO6dQ/XKlch1xzDm6w6pI7TqWJ8s3+Dyf7u/yD7BU1k89BvVHkuedV/s+PsT7KnsmnoDqhc8A08oEmk+dg8woS21XMpFzDouBEHtCmbcTzb+zzCy5r5Dp2ysLPVc5rCC4lhAd0b4kg+StiraK5OosrvOHL9trdG0WmrUab9Fzzo3X+qLlCm8jer35Q8x8n2XJ1WrTo+kBYA97nOde9oOJgXXXBVXk6y06hgtFx4eS1y2Mkdzn20HbFmZZ1f8Am7ydZNr2SlUqUDpubJc2pVE3nUHR4LTyvyM2ZwJs9oqUnbKmjUZ4aLhxkrtWrOWk6KQFJHAKby7mtabNV5omlV2Oo1GvH7wucw8QN0rVbm9XOOi3ifgFDqS5ZYoyfCOhzWb6D94+5X9m6IstnH2LPYCoPNumW0dEwSHuEjC4kL6AyKIs9EbKTPZC5h+zGb6o3URFoMwREQBERAEREAREQBcrnPmh+kv55lTRfAEOEsMYXi8eK6pFyUVJUyUZOLtFaWDkwfdz1drdoY0u/E6I7lYtjs4p02UwSQxoaCcYaAL+5ZkUYwjHg7PJKXIREUyAVd5/H5UPuW+09WIuMz1yBXrVRWpNDwKYYWzDrnOJIBuIh22blTqE3DYuwNKe5S+RrS1lRzXOALnwMbyTAHeu3tmRa9M6VSg8XRpaJMSP2hh3qFyXycZRqVWVDRFNrajXTUe0XBwJ6Il03awFfyqWnUty6Woa2RQVXJnoXUWPIaWFrQelo3QL8Y4rcya5w6LhEACQZB4a/BW/lPIVnrzzlMaX7Tei/vGPbIXDZbzQq0AX05q08TA6bRvGsbx3BVZMM4r2ThnjLbg5WuZY7s8wpfMOuyna2vqPaxoa6XOIaMNpUGXdBw4eYWM4KMZU7LJRtUW1lLPGwtBBdzs3aLGlwO6TDT3rhqmW7BTeX2fJdBpcZLnhog7ebYC3uIUFQBJgSTqAEnuUxZs17ZVjRoOA2vhng6D4K7uzlsilYoR5P21Z721whr2Um4RTYB4v0iOyFC2u11Kt9Wo+pue9zh2AmB2LsLJybVXX1azGbmAvPedGPFT9i5P7Gz1+cqn6zoHcyF3tzlyO7jjwVPN685RfzOiawNPTBLdJpBcBEloIvF4vG1X1YslUKPzVKmze1oB7TiVxfKhmBVyk6lUo1mMfRa5oY9p0XaRafXbe31f2SprB7ZB6n0itciv9HO1zz2FxhfQOTRFGmPqN9kKqs3+Ta2tphlV1JkSCdIuxJvAAvHGFbdFmi1rdgA7hClii03ZDNNNKj2iIrigIiIAiIgCIiAIiIAiIgCIiAIiIAiIgCIiALFavUd1T5LKvL2ggg4ER3oCgKLpaexdNmHYKda06FVge0Mc6DhILY44qctnJq2ZoVi1p+jUGlHAiJ4HvU5m3mlTsj+cFR73lpbfAbBIJhuM3DWVjx4ZJ7m3Jmi1sydstkp0xFNjWDY1oaPBZkRbDEEREAREQBERAEREAREQBERAEREAREQBERAEREAREQBERAEREAREQBERAEREAREQBERAEREAREQH/2Q==" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for mission chair" border="0" height="503" 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" 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I choose tables and chairs because of the symbolic .. They bring people together..<br />
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We will be scheduling groups of Veterans and active duty to join us for week long therapeutic retreats. Visiting Therapists and Veteran mentors will be available for one on one discussions.<br />
Serving Our Veterans and active duty by helping them find the answers they seek.. Some might need connections with others services. that's what We will do.. Some might need help with dealing with the VA. That's what We will do. Some might have physical or mental issues that need to be addressed. That's what We will do. Around a quarter of a million people transition from active duty to civilian life every year. That transition effects every member of that family. From a wife needing a new doctor to a child moving from a military base school into public education. That transition can be made easier through some friendly and caring advice. That's what We will do.<br />
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Horses, cows, chickens and rabbits. Puppies, cats and goats. A community garden and maybe even a "swimmin hole".. All these things have a therapeutic value. For the active duty soldier who is waiting in a hospital Battalion for a long scheduled surgery to the homeless Vet who needs a safe place and some work to get back on their feet. That's what We will do.<br />
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Go Tell... The second part of our strategy is public outreach. Advertising and educating the general public. Reaching out to those who might need help..<br />
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"Veterans Dignity Project Hospitality lounge. Public welcome.."<br />
Each year, 10s of millions of people attend organized motorcycle rallies. The 75th annual Sturgis Rally drew over a million people for its 10 day event..Rolling Thunder in Washington DC draws over a million people during the Memorial day weekend every year. VDP plans to put together a mobile Hospitality lounge to travel the Country educating the public about Veterans issues and what we have to offer to improve the lives of Veterans.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4687515719867720836" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><img alt="hospitaltent" src="http://www.nizamtents.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/hospitaltent.jpg" /><br />
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An Oasis in the middle of everything.. Come in and have a seat in a well built, comfortable chair. Enjoy a cool refreshment and some conditioned air. Look over the memorabilia and make contact with others. Televisions showing informative videos about VDP and information pertaining to Veterans. A place to Honor our Veterans and educate the general public on Veterans issues.. Custom items for sale such as tables and chairs, paintings and other fine art work.. Fundraising at its finest.. Who knows, we might even have 5 motorcycles on display Honoring the 5 branches of Service.<br />
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In july, 2013 I was a "Battle Buddy" for 12 wounded soldiers from Ft. Campbell, Ky. Hosted by my friends at Veterans Support Fund.. a non-profit organization.. I can tell you from experience, Lives were changed for the better, including mine. It is my intention to continue this great work.<br />
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I know my "WHY". To help others is right..<br />
I know my "WHAT".. And now, You do as well..<br />
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I hope that you will stand with me and help make a difference in the lives of those who have given to US.<br />
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Don Wood.I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-68849717501950639062016-06-29T18:51:00.001-07:002016-06-29T18:51:35.978-07:00Another day at the VA..<img src="http://image.slidesharecdn.com/doing-business-with-va-120427111457-phpapp02/95/doing-business-with-va-2-728.jpg?cb=1335525386" /><br />
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This morning I woke at 0500hrs. See, the walk in clinic for trauma recovery is Tuesday and Wednesday, 0830hrs. Plan for at least three hours. I learned about this program on friday from a VA social worker.(she has worked well with me thus far). I wanted to be there Tuesday but that wasn't possible. Monday was one of those all-nighters where me and my demons wrestle around all night. Around midnight I had went to the Hub desk seeking some help and found that there was no Veteran counselors on staff. (the hub desk is where a contract staff member rules over 4 cellblocks in this jail.). Yes, I am currently housed in a contract bed in the old Atlanta jail with, I'd say around 250 other Veterans and civilians. My only option was one of the dogtags I wear around my neck. "Veterans crisis hotline". They have a live chat available 24/7. To start that process was a 12 step questionnaire. About 5 minutes after submitting my answers Erin replied.. I don't know Erin. I knew nothing about Erin. After two hours of "Chatting", I still know nothing about Erin. What I do know is that she has more questions than answers.. She apologized to me for what I was going through with the VA and thanked me for my service then put me on the spot pressing me with the question, "what are you going to do, Donald?" I said goodnight. Needless to say, I was not in any shape to deal with a walk in appointment.<br />
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<img alt="Image result for veterans crisis line dog tag" 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" /><br />
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Luckily, the jail is only two blocks from the MARTA station (and greyhound). This morning after two trains, a bus and a mini van, I arrived at another VA satellite location for Trauma recovery evaluation. Now understand, my definition of "Trauma" includes putting a guy like me on a public train in Atlanta at 0600hrs. Before last week, my total experience with public transportation has been riding a bus in Daytona one time because I was too drunk to drive. Being the only option I had, I made it work.<br />
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I isolate. I don't go around large groups of people. When I have to,, I use crutches. Like booze. or drugs. It numbs me enough to cope. It's not that I am scared of people. I fear what I am capable of doing.. A trigger fuse with no time delay that can be activated by things most people think nothing about. Standing behind a horse is a sure way to get kicked. Getting in my personal space will get a stranger the same result. Today, a young man dressed as a thug, with his sagging pants, cocked Mercedes Benz ball cap and gold grill running to catch the train, ran into my shoulder. Luckily his response was diffusing.. As he was getting up from the ground he apologized. That situation could have gone sideways in a moment.. that is why I avoid public when I can..<br />
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<img src="http://image.slidesharecdn.com/stressandthehumanbody-140815084349-phpapp01/95/stress-and-the-human-body-13-638.jpg?cb=1408092264" /><br />
There is a moment, it happens in an instant. It has the potential to change a life forever.. It happens just before the "Fight or Flight" response... It's called "Threat Assessment".<br />
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<img src="http://www.patriotnetdaily.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/threat-assessment-header.jpg" /><br />
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How long does it take to make that assessment.? In some situations it is quicker than the blink of an eye. A barking dog. A quick movement. Aggression. A surprise touch. Hell, my ponytail startles me at least once a day... It can be anything.. In the Army Infantry we called it "The Razors Edge".<br />
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I'd like to point something out here.. I tell people that I was in the Army Infantry.. I wasn't in the Army, I was in The Army INFANTRY. You might wonder, Whats the difference.? From where a Infantryman stands the difference is as big as night and day. I'll try to brake it down for you..<br />
A person could serve in any of the five branches of service and be a Veteran. With an Honorable discharge, They have my appreciation and a measure of respect. But that doesn't include them into the ranks of the Men who I call "Brother". There are many jobs in the military. From clerks to cooks. From supply and logistics to transportation. Each preforms a needed function. Their function is to support the men of Combat Arms. I mean no disrespect to the men and women who deserve the respect of a grateful Nation.. Some of these people find themselves in harms way. There have been many who have proven themselves courageous. But the fact is, they trained for combat for 8 weeks in basic training. An Infantryman trained for combat, daily for the length of his enlistment. The culture of the Infantry is also different.. A blue cord on my class As signified that I was an Infantryman. It was earned, not given. That blue cord joined me in the ranks of every fighting man in our Countries history. A proud tradition that continues today.. The Elite of our military train for combat. Not with typewriters or spatulas but with their body, mind and weapons. We are Grunts. We do the work of combat. Some consider the term POG as a derogatory term.. meaning "Persons other than Grunts". I don't see it that way. To be a Grunt, you have more than a basic understanding of combat.<br />
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<img height="332" src="https://thedogtagchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/grunts-v-pogs.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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But back to this story..<br />
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so Yeah. 00800hrs I arrive at my destination... I'm asked to fill out an 8 page questionnaire. AGAIN. for the 20th time... and I'm Amped up from the morning already.. Sit and wait.. 8 others in the waiting room with me. We are escorted to another waiting room and told that we would be briefed as a group and then seen individually.. 10 minutes later and the door opens.. Mr. Wood, please follow me.. and I'm escorted back to the first waiting room. Now I'm alone. Apmed status...Higher. The door opens and a well dressed man in his early forties introduces himself as Dr. So &So , "Please follow me. Into his office and he explains what the evaluation will cover and asks if I have any questions. "Yes. Why was I singled out of the herd"?? His reply surprised me.. "Your file has been red flagged for behavior problems". OK... What else does it say... he says, "Nothing more, it was entered in Dublin".. Soooo... Thats when I had the obligation to ease his mind and explain what happened in Dublin Ga. VA.. The short of it,, because I pointed out the failings of my care, because I advocated for myself and others,,, I was a "behavior problem"..<br />
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We moved on.. over a three hour period, that Dr. asked me every imaginable question and a few I hadn't been asked before. It was an information gathering session for him.. It was the 13th time sense 21 dec. 2015 that I had been threw this process. This one being the longest and most in depth.. To the Dr's credit.. He treated me right. With respect and honor. As if he actually wanted to help.. As we finished the evaluation he stated that he wanted to work with me personally. He was interested in my story and he felt that he could help me with some if not all of my issues. We closed out the meeting with contact information and instructions for when I should call regarding a schedule. As we shook hands at the door, his grasp lingered, "Mr. Wood, after three hours in your head, I don't believe you are a behavior problem".. The right words at the right time..<br />
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Once again, I have started down this path. He will be the 7th therapist that I will have met with more than once. I'm hopeful that we can make progress. I'm open minded but still concerned about the quality of care.. BUT, I can say that the difference between my care at Dublin Ga. VA and Atlanta Ga. Va have been vastly different...<br />
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I just thought you might want to know....<br />
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-90790078884279579802016-06-26T21:03:00.000-07:002016-06-26T21:03:37.336-07:00Getting back to where I should have been<img height="425" src="http://wallpapercave.com/wp/p2Zt6gV.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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Yesterday afternoon I was looking at google maps.. Looking for a church to attend this morning.. I was raised in the church and at times I have lived in obedience. No churches within walking distance caught my attention. As I zoomed out on the map, First Baptist Atlanta appeared. I have heard of the Pastor of this Mega Church. I've watched several of his sermons on youtube. The map showed me that I could get there on public trans. So I went to their website to see the times of services. I searched around a bit. Looking at pictures, bus schedules and the like. I was thinking that I'd like to see this 3000 seat church. I knew the music would be of a professional level. ( I was not wrong). And a brake from my jail cell was what I was thinking about.. By evening I was convinced that this was where I needed to be.I had been thinking about writing down my situation on a piece of paper as a prayer request and placing it into the offering plate. I went back to their website and ended up on the "Ministries" page. This church is big enough that they have a "Military ministry". At the bottom of that page was a contact link.. The lyrics to this song from deep in my past came to my mind.earlier in the day.<br />
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<img alt="Image result for trust and obey lyrics" height="358" 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" 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Comfort hasn't been important to me for a number of years. I just try to be thankful for what I have at the moment. In the last 5 years I've slept on the ground more times than not. I haven't owned a bed in over three. For the last few days I've been a "Client" of the VA. They have housed me in the old Atlanta Jail which has been repurposed as a shelter. My complaint is not about my comfort. My complaint is that jail is not a therapeutic environment for anyone, least of all me. So with the lyrics of that song in my head, I decided to obey His desire for me to trust in Him.. I wrote this email.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Greetings. My name is Don Wood. I am a Veteran.Service connected, Army Infantry, 1985-1988. Diagnosis. Chronic PTSD and Depression. With three active congressional inquiries with Sen. Isakson's office, I was called to the Atlanta VA for Compensation evaluation. Long story short, they can't tell me how long until this is over. might be next week, might be two months. They have housed me at the Gateway Center, (old Atlanta jail) while I am in town.(arrived 22Jun,16) This environment is not good for me but I have no options. I have tried diligently my entire life to avoid incarceration but yet, here I sit on a jailhouse bunk next to a stainless steal toilet. (thankful for wifi)..</span><br />
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Monday I meet with a VA Doctor to discuss more treatment options for what ails me.. I have meetings scheduled at both Ft. Mac and Atlanta VAMC. (using public transportation to get around). My situation is not dire but yet, my housing lacks anything that could be considered a therapeutic environment.A cool, dry, safe place to call base camp while I deal with the VA is what I hope to gain.</div>
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My God has led me to you. I do not ask you to fly on blind faith. I only ask to to investigate who I am and let the answers to your prayers guide you. I have written publicly for a number of years so this will be easier than you might think. I can also forward to you the emails from the VA to validate my story. I will provide more details if this becomes a conversation. Below are a few links to help you in your understanding of my situation.</div>
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On a side note...</div>
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My Faith teaches me that God works in mysterious ways. I understand that this might be where my God wants me to be right now. I will minister wherever I can. Tomorrow morning I will ride the bus to FBA and seek the Wisdom of my God.</div>
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Thank you for your time and consideration.</div>
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Don Wood</div>
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I turned it over to The Lord...and prayed that He would give me the fortitude to rise in the morning... Peaceful sleep and wide awake in time.. <span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">I got up at 530 this morning. Walked a couple of blocks. Rode a train for 30minutes. Waited for a bus for 30minutes. Rode that bus for 30minutes. Waited an hour and a half for 9am worship service to start. The building and grounds were beautiful. the people i encountered seemed genuine and friendly. The music was uplifting and the sermon hit the mark... I left there with a smile on my face.. Busses and trains, I returned to my jailhouse bunk and found a reply to my email.... </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">"Don. call me, ASAP". and a phone number. I called.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">after more than a few questions and answers, a process has been set in motion.. A man, sent by God, is currently working on my situation (his last email was after 11pm). That might (Might) include an equine based PTSD therapy program operated by a non profit outside of the Veterans Admin. I have no idea where this road will take me but I do have Faith in My Creator. I have turned it over to Him.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">thought you might want to know.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">Don.</span></span></div>
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-57079445821463563212016-06-25T06:57:00.001-07:002016-06-25T06:57:39.526-07:00Help..<img height="640" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR1LP4F5jeic-OyNmbE9mSMgEs0PcqQRylqNmaKrC7_ZuAtnS8IVg" width="603" /><br />
Could it be that we were designed to help others.?<br />
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I can't begin to list the people who have helped me over the years.. From my elementary music teacher who gave me an appreciation of music to the Drill Sargent who cracked the whip to straighten me out. There have been "Helpers" through my entire life. Sometimes, I didn't recognize them until years later.. Sometimes their help was unsolicited. Sometimes it was their job. There have been times when my helpers did nothing more than give me a smile or an encouraging word. Gifts of things I needed. Directions that were sound. An ear to lean on. A dry and warm rest from the cold. A meal. A ride. A shop to work in. A genuine concern for my well being.. I Am Thankful. I can see the Hand of God active in my life. Even at my lowest, He has been there for me by sending me Helpers.<br />
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I have my problems.. I think we all do. Each are unique to the individual. We go about our days thinking about our own situation. The depression sometimes gives me guilt that I spend so much time consumed by my own problems.. I suffer from Selfishness. And a heavy load of guilt for thinking only of myself.<br />
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<img alt="Image result for helping others" height="359" 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" 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In hindsight, I can see that my life has been Blessed.. I've learned from each situation. Those who have helped me have actually been my role models. Many times I took of their generosity without knowing the full impact of their actions until much later in life. When I look at the last 48 years, I can see that None of my needs were unmet.. Lots of wants but NONE of my needs. I have survived.<br />
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My problems have been small in comparison. Many of my friends have endured situations that could have put me under. There is a common thread. Its HELP. Needing it and not being able to give it.. You know the pain of wanting to help someone you love and not being able to. A sibling or spouse who is struggling. A person who can't find peace. Medical issues. Financial issues. Matters of the heart. Loss of a loved one and the damaged souls they leave behind. There are as many problems as there are solutions.. All we need is help.<br />
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<img height="640" src="http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/3f/0e/8f/3f0e8f4ddce44988cb6411cd6321a583.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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I believe that selfishness is the hurdle we all struggle with.. I'm more guilty than most. We all know the feeling of helping someone without expecting a return. Let me share a scenario with you.<br />
With a sign, a man announces his need. I see him. I have the ability to help. But then I wonder... Is this a scam.? Does he really need gas money to get Home.? or is he just gathering his drinking money for the night.? I've heard of people making a good living doing as he is. I want to help him. Something tells me its the right thing to do. I call it a seed of hope. He might do wrong and lie to me. He might actually need the help.. Who am I to deny Him.? Could it be that my $20 is what turns this mans life around.? We all know how kindness has effected the lives of people.. I tell people that there are three tanks on my motorcycle and I try to keep them as close to full as possible. One is for gas. One is for oil. My third tank is for karma.. and I've never been able to overfill my karma tank..<br />
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<img height="480" src="http://3goals3years.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/480797_486149871400977_421276241_n.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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I have defined my goal. I know WHY I'm doing it. Veterans Dignity Project is about helping others. Once I went public with my plan, things have been happening. Making progress and moving forward.. By helping others I am getting more than I am putting in. The bible tells me that this well will not go dry. By defining my goal, two things have happened.. Some people have been supportive of my efforts. Some people have asked for guidance. I value them both.<br />
"Help" is a powerful thing. Both the giving and the receiving of it.<br />
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A man once told me that a true friend will anticipate your needs. He will give of his time, energy and knowledge. He will be close enough to you to know of your struggles. He will do what is in his power to lighten your load. We all need help.. We all have the power to give help.<br />
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<img height="425" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSEYGAJCje1KTdonNHmtUi_yAd-2gyxPLjBizwg5IEiyl5i9SaL" width="640" /><br />
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until next time,<br />
Peace&Grease<br />
I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-87164692328699790522016-04-08T11:54:00.002-07:002016-04-08T11:54:46.891-07:00Ramblings of a Wanderer.<br />
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<img height="439" src="http://www.diary.cadenza.org/james-taylor/wanderer_gross.jpg" width="640" />I<br />
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Greetings from a comfy couch... I have the house of a friend to myself and I thought I should write a bit about what's going on.. Someday, I might want to revisit these times in my life...<br />
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I started out on the Appalachian Trail at Amicalola Falls, Ga. a few weeks ago.. Why.? you might ask.. Why not fix your motorcycle and get back into the wind.? I love motorcycles... they, and the people who ride them have been apart of the majority of my life.. I could, with a small amount of effort, rebuild Ole Glory and be back to twisting the throttle and <span style="background-color: white; color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">S</span>eeing the world at 80mph. And someday, I will again.. When I ride, I am consumed. There is no white noise in my head. I'm focused on the task of staying alive.. Very little else enters my mind. The sound of my machine. The whistle of the wind as a blast of hot air hits me broadside and I lean the machine to maintain a straight line.. The condition of the road. The weather. The gas gauge. At around 90mph my vision becomes tunneled. There are no more fence posts or highline poles. It is magical and I do love the feeling... But......<br />
When I'm on the road, thats ALL I think about. It is The Great Escape.. and right now in my life I really need to concentrate. Thats why I decided to go for a walk about... Things look different at foot speed and you have time to explore. Yes. the scenery in the wilderness is amazing but that is not the only exploration I'm doing...<br />
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Some know that I checked in to the Dublin Ga. VA on 12/21/15. Sense that time I have been concentrating on learning everything I can about PTSD, Its effects and the way the Veterans Administration is operating.. Prior to Dec. 2015, I had had Zero dealings with the VA. I did not know anything more than what the general public knew... I have learned a lot so far, but I have only scratched the surface. I am currently going through Congressional investigations on three separate issues regarding the VA. As I've said before, I found my Why.. that is to Glorify my God.. I have found my What... To Honor our Veterans with Dignity by effecting change in the Veterans Administration through educating the public.... That is why I am founding "The Veterans Dignity Project". Soon to be a 501c3 recognized non profit...<br />
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Our Mission Statement.....<br />
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.....<span style="background-color: white; color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">To fulfill President Lincoln's promise “To care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan” by serving and honoring the men and women who are America’s Veterans.. Our Mission statement is the same as The Veterans Administration...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">So now,, I have my Why... I have my What... Now I spend my time considering the possibilities... What can I do to effect change..? Thats the question that I keep chewing on.. And I'm confident that by the end of hiking the Appalachian Trail, I will have formed a clear picture of my vision.. I have been mulling over different possibilities and have had some "light bulb moments". </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">I saw a video the other day.. It was of a Vermont State Police Troop doing 22 push-ups in recognition of the 22 Veterans who take their own lives, each day in America.. Think about that for a second... Could 22 push-ups help a Veteran.? Yes. Because it sheds light on the issue.. Do you know why 22 Veterans a day commit suicide in the USA.?? Would you do 22 push ups to save a Veteran.? It's not about the push-ups.. Its about addressing an issue. The issue is this... President Lincoln's promise is not being fulfilled...</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">It takes people to effect change... </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">Our Government still answers to The People.. The problem as I see it, is that the general public has no idea what is going on... Nor their responsibility to honor a commitment that was given to every American Service Member. As Americans, We owe a debt to the men and woman who have served Our Country. I don't think many would deny that truth.. The solution is simple.... START THE CONVERSATION. Be the nucleus of change. Write an e-mail to your Congressman. Become INVOLVED.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">I still battle my demons Daily. I'm convinced that until some of these demons are tamed, my integration back into society is not an option.. Yes, I could do it, but it would again be but a short time until that would crumble.. I've lived that cycle too many times.. I will continue on my journey. Seeking the healing of my mind and body.. Planning for a future. Dealing with the past.. And educating myself and others . </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">Motorcycles are still in my heart and blood.. I will get back to that as soon as I can. When I do, I will be riding for a better reason. I think it will be more enjoyable to ride in a direction instead of away from something. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">Thanks for your time.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #2e2e2e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px;">Peace&Grease.</span></span><br />
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-76258837369598977802016-03-23T06:25:00.003-07:002016-03-23T06:25:48.738-07:00WHY EVEN TRY?<img src="http://love.catchsmile.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/If-You-Never-Try.jpg" /><div>
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I've tried before..... I've tried and failed. I've tried and succeeded. But I've never succeeded without trying... Thats the nuts of it.. </div>
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I woke up this morning and I'm ready to embark on a 6 month odyssey. Then I look at the weather forcast for Amicalola Falls State Park, Ga. (My start point for The Appalachian Trail.). tomorrows forcast is 100% chance of rain. Do I postpone my start by one day.? What should i do.? I'm of two minds.. Fuck it... sometimes it rains... I'm not gonna have 6months of sunshine... "Endeavor to persevere". Or maybe I'll just wait until tomorrow... I'll leave that up to my friend who is driving me to my starting point... It matters not to me... </div>
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Some folks have asked,,, (I'll rephrase the question), Why, ? a 48 yr old out of shape, disabled, Veteran with a "Mental Disorder"would even attempt to hike the Appalachian Trail.? my answer is this..... For all those reasons and more. ... I sought the help of the VA.. I did... They kicked me out saying that I was angry and a non conformist.. While there, I found my bearing again... I now know WHY... I now know WHAT. (read the last few entries into this blog). Some have called this "a Spiritual Journey". I think they are part right.. I'm going exploring in the wilderness.. Some of that will be on a dirt path. Some of that will be in the darkness of my mind.. </div>
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I have a Dream.. Its called, "THE VETERAN DIGNITY PROJECT". you will be hearing a lot about this from me soon.. My goal is to help Veterans and by doing so, improve The Veterans Administration.. The wheels have been set in motion to do accomplish that goal.. This trail will give me the guidance and direction to best fulfill this mission.</div>
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You might be asking... "What can I do to help?"....... I have no earthly idea.. I'm headed north and thats about all I know... I will be stopping in to check on a friend and defile his hottub for a bit, around mid to late April.. If you think of something that I might need or enjoy,, my mail address will be,</div>
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Don Wood</div>
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21Pressley rd.</div>
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Ashville, NC 28805</div>
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(PS.. nothing packs lighter than cash.). just sayin... Paypal. donwood223@gmail.com</div>
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I will be taking my laptop, a camera and my video gear on the trail with me. When I find WIFI in the towns along the trail I will be posting updates to the blog and Facebook... If you have not yet, Please. click on the follow button on my facebook page. the more followers I have the more "Marketable" this adventure could be..</div>
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Thank you all for your support and encouragements. You give me more than I can ever repay..</div>
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until next time,</div>
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Peace&Grease</div>
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-49441873943133833862016-03-16T12:15:00.002-07:002016-03-16T12:15:16.416-07:00It just takes Time. "How are You?"<br />
We pass by each other and they ask, "How You doin?" In the VA hospital I encountered hundreds of people who do not know me.. Without slowing their pace or even maintaining eye contact they would ask in passing, "How are You today?" As if it was a pre programmed greeting.. With no time to listen for a response. If they cared they would wait for a response.. People don't care. Not enough to honestly be interested. There hasn't been enough trust built yet for me to tell the truth.. yeah. Its sad but we all know its the truth..<br />
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"I'm fine. and You?" They are far enough past me that my question to them is not responded to. I've lost the ability to continue this phony game of human contact.. It took me to a bitter place and I didn't like it there.. "Fine" is a lie. Its a cover up. It's as dishonest as we can possibly be... So I changed the ways I respond... I'm good. Who, Me.? Above Ground. Peachy. or completely disregard their question and reply, "Sir, or Ma'am.". This isn't a new thing for me.. I've been avoiding that question, "How You doin?" for most of my life.. I can imagine their heads exploding if I actually replied truthfully.<br />
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Imagine this scenario.<br />
I'm not doing well today. I woke up remembering all the horrific things i saw in my sleep last night. I didn't sleep much because of it.. The insomnia is related to my depression and the suicidal thoughts usually don't wait till after breakfast. I've been thinking about a grieving friend who lost their child to disease and is not coping well. The morning news has me convinced that the government is corrupt and that the election is rigged. The VA has forgot its mission statement and there is no one who honors their Oath of Office. We have people living and dying in the streets every day while some have more than they can spend. No, I don't want them to be governed into doing whats right.. but their greed has effected their humanity.. and How are you.?<br />
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As a member of this species, we are compelled to care for one another.. that includes our time. It takes time and effort to be concerned for your fellow man.. If I ask you, How are you.? I want the truth. If you say, Fine. Im calling Bullshit. We Are Not Fine. Each of us have our own issues and demons. Each of us need the counsel of our dear friends. thats what friends do.. I remember learning early, "you got two ears and one mouth, listen twice as much". Listen to people. yes, it might be the wrong time or setting to have that conversation but,,, let them know that you care. that you are willing to listen if they want to talk.. Engage people. We all need help. and sometimes, the best advice comes from strangers. (tell your problem to a stranger and, trust me, you will get an opinion..)<br />
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Helping others benefits you. Do you remember how good you felt the last time you truly helped someone..? I call them warm fuzzies.. We all have the ability to help someone. and we all know someone who needs help.. A restaurant gift card for your neighbors date night. Yeah, volunteer to watch their kids. It's a gift.. and let the gift be your only motivation.. Know your friends well enough that you know what will help them... thats big stuff right there... It will change Your life for sure..<br />
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It just takes time...<br />
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Until next time,<br />
Peace&Grease.I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-8405391852123118882016-02-28T16:43:00.001-08:002016-02-29T07:50:05.673-08:00My WHAT = My MissionI figured out my Why.. It took some hard soul searching to figure that out.. Between the PTSD and depression, I was constantly having suicidal thoughts. I couldn't think of a strong enough reason to continue.. I was lacking purpose. Imagine playing a game where you have rules and they have rules and the rules keep changing and there is no defined goal so there is no way to know if you are winning or loosing... can you imagine the frustration.? That is what I was up against.. For me to continue, I had to find my WHY. Thankfully I did..<br />
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The next step was to define the WHAT... This might sound crazy to some but there is a logic in my order... "What you do in life isn't as important as WHY you do it". think about that... Its about motivation... Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons can lead to disaster.. That is why I put WHY before WHAT.<br />
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Those who know me will tell you that I have a desire to help. To serve others above self.. That is a quality that was instilled in me in the Army.. This is a picture of our Unit Crest. 4bn/23d Infantry Regiment.<br />
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That covers a lot of ground.. I needed to define a smaller target. AIM SMALL. MISS SMALL.<br />
I had spent a lot of time and energy fighting all the different enemies. I came to the conclusion that those issues won't change until society changes them. Part of the mission is to have a defined goal. I had to figure out what was Most important to me.. Yes, I still care about all the same things as before but the difference is now I'm focused on what matters the Most to me..<br />
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The Veterans Administrations website says this...<br />
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Mission Statement</h2>
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To fulfill President Lincoln's promise “To care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan” by serving and honoring the men and women who are America’s Veterans.</div>
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I plan to help them with Their mission..</div>
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I have decided to start a non profit Veterans Advocacy organization with the expressed goal of seeking out, motivating and overcoming the obstacles Veterans encounter when seeking the services they earned. In the next couple of months I will be building the infrastructure of this organization.. Developing the website, blog, paypal, literature, filing for 501-c3 status and building relationships with a couple of congressmen.. among other things... let me tell you what I've got in mind..</div>
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In my time here at the VA hospital I have learned some disturbing things.. They are understaffed. less than 50%. They placed me in the Homeless program instead of the PTSD program because this facility gets more funding that way.. In the last 7 yrs this facility has changed the PTSD program 5 times. Just these three issues are cause for alarm.. The problem is systemic and needs to be addressed at the Congressional level. I plat to take my experience here as far as The Secretary of the VA. Change is needed but it must come from the top down.. </div>
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I'm still going to travel.. I still have a large network of people who believe in me. I plan to increase the reach of the organization to achieve these goals. Lets say, A Veteran has a substance abuse problem. Maybe he needs information. I can help. Maybe he needs transportation, I can help. Maybe he needs direction, I can help. Maybe he needs some motivation, we can help. Maybe he needs a bit of financial support to make treatment an option. we can help. (there are many who have become dependent on VA issued pain drugs. its not just alcohol). Now for the twist.. what if we task that Veteran with evaluating the VA.? (he's already doing it in his mind). As an undercover operative they can gain valuable intelligence about the programs and facilities. The best intel comes from "boots on the ground". I'm talking about questionnaires with defined questions related to the services he is there for. Is there enough staff.? Facility conditions? A way to rate the level of service. We can then compile that information as a report to the leadership of the VA. If they choose to disregard the information, we have what is necessary to go public. The objective is to improve the system. </div>
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<span style="font-family: , "arial narrow" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 40px; line-height: 48px;">Compendium of Standards, Codes, and Principles of Nonprofit and Philanthropic Organizations.</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.independentsector.org/compendium_of_standards" target="_blank">http://www.independentsector.org/compendium_of_standards</a></div>
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This is The standard for non-profits that is my guide.</div>
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Charity Navigator is the site that rates Non Profit organizations</div>
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<a href="http://www.charitynavigator.org/" target="_blank">http://www.charitynavigator.org/</a></div>
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my goal is a 4 star rating. </div>
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This is the mission I have chosen to be my lifes work. Helping others individually and collectively improving our future..</div>
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Thank you..</div>
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Peace&Grease</div>
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EDIT.<br />
I posted this last night.. This morning I was told that I was being discharged from The VA hospital... I don't believe in coincidence....</div>
I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-71818663409025273052016-02-27T09:29:00.000-08:002016-02-27T09:29:08.066-08:00I found my WHY.on 21 December, 2015, I checked myself in to the Carl Vinson VA med center in Dublin, Ga. Not knowing at the time that this specific hospital was ranked in the bottom 20% of all the VA facilities.. I was at the end of my rope. I had been talking with my closest people for about a year in regards to seeking help with my issues. It was often the case that a Veteran would warn me away from the VA based on their own experiences. My friends in the Infantry and Special Forces communities advised against the VA and suggested that I seek help from the non- profits and civilian markets. The only knowledge I had of the VA was what I had seen in media and information from these confidants. The only knowledge I had of this facility was that my grandfather had passed away here from old age, many years ago..<br />
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I needed help.. My life had been a continual exercise of bad decisions with a few moments of easy sailing.. Unsteady work history, broken relationships, drinking in excess and too many episodes of using drugs to cope with life. Trust issues, abandonment issues, major depression, insomnia and its opposite. Nightmares and visions in horrifying details. Sleeping like a guard dog when I could sleep. I distanced myself from everyone who actually cared. It was easier to isolate than to explain what I was going through. Suicidal thinking would turn into planning. The depression and inability to deal with society would drive me to extremes. My temper, my training and my lack of anger management was driving me to a very dangerous place.The highs of my public life looked good on paper but the reality was that I was nothing more than a shell of a man. Near death experiences multiple times, was not enough to turn my mind around. I knew from online testing that I had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. so I sought help.<br />
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Nobody knew. I had not told one person. Not family. Not friend. There was no one who knew what I was going through. Some knew that I had problems because of what they saw in me but they didn't know why. I don't blame them.. It took me almost 3 decades to get even a little understanding.. Those relationships are now a salvage operation that I hope and pray to be successful with. Let me get back to my WHY.<br />
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I found my WHY. Here at the VA. No, I'm not fixed by any stretch of the imagination. Medication has helped with the depression and cleared my mind enough to focus on a purpose.. A mission in Life, you might say. Through all the disfunction of the system, I became able to focus on a goal. Imagine for a moment that you walk through a door. on the other side of that door is a new world of all things are possible. The only thing that can limit you is yourself. You have no pressure from anyone to do or be anything. All the choices are before you. For me, I had to make a choice because turning back was not an option. I needed to find my purpose. My first step was finding out who I AM.<br />
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I call myself a Christian. I'm not a religious man but I do know that I have a God. I have Hope and Faith because of my beliefs. My relationship with my Creator has never been what it should be and there have been many times that I have acted as if we had no relationship at all. Because of the many death and near death experiences I've had, I know my God has a plan for me. He could have "called me home" many times but He chose not to. That tells me that I am here for a reason. My Bible says that mans purpose is to glorify God. I've known that for 40yrs but have not devoted my life to it. Yeah, I've helped a few people but glorifying my Creator was like a side note.. Beyond all that is wrong with me, I know, I have good in my heart. I've been a Sheepdog most of my life. Watching out for the flock and addressing the wolf every time.. I will continue because that is part of who I am. But there is more to me than just that. I have a vision of the time I meet my Creator. I will kneel before His thrown and present to Him my crown. In that crown will be all the good that I have done. I think of feathers in my cap. "Well done my good and faithful servant". is what I hope to hear.. As of today, I'm afraid He would say, "You've done some good but you were far below your potential".<br />
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That is My WHY. It wasn't a burning bush moment. It wasn't a great voice from the sky. It was something completely normal.. for the first time in over thirty years, no drugs. no alcohol. no plan. no expectations. no court order. no self imposed pressures. no standards to meet. no timeline to beat. I got to know me to the core. and there was more of me that i didn't like than I had ever known. I question my motivation. Why am I making this choice in life.? I've been learning a lot about myself by questioning my motivation.. by asking Why. The question I asked myself was this... Am i motivated by my fear of hell or the rewards of Heaven??. yeah.. tough question.. Here is what I came up with.. neither.. I don't fear hell. Doesn't matter how horrible you paint that picture, I'm not motivated by fear... Nor am I motivated by the rewards of Heaven. If the rewards of Heaven motivate you to do right then you miss the point that salvation is a gift and it can't be earned. I asked myself, If Heaven were full, would I still strive to glorify God.? My answer is yes.<br />
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"The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a wounded spirit who can bear.? -Proverbs 18:14<br />
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Now that I have found my WHY... It's time to move on to the WHAT..<br />
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Sense my time here I have witnessed a shit ton of problems with the VA system and this location specifically. First off, day one. I was placed in the 90 day Homeless Program after telling them that I was there for PTSD. A 42 day program. It took me 5 weeks of knocking on doors to get set up for a PTSD evaluation and assessment. Each week I was threatened with expulsion from The Homeless Program because I was not concentrating on housing and employment. The laundry list is long but I won't bore you with all the specifics here and now.. You can trust that in the near future all that information will be compiled for dissemination.. Failures in medical care, mental care, program policies and changes.. From a "report card" standard... The care and services I have received in the last two months have been less than failing and border on criminal.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">At the nurses station. To see a dr. or nurse or dietitian you are directed to take a seat. No one to check in with as to why you are there. No next in line numbers . Just sit and wait . . Can you imagine a civilian medical practice operating this way..?</span><br />
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Bitching never improved anything... Well, except I did get three tattered flags retired here just by bitching... so let me restate that... "Bitching only improves the little stuff"..<br />
There is a whole lot of big stuff that needs to be fixed.. and we don't have time to doddle. Lives are at stake..<br />
22.5 million Veterans in America<br />
on any given night, 300,000 Veterans are homeless living on the streets or in shelters<br />
250,000 Veterans have been diagnosed with PTSD<br />
Substance abuse among Veterans is beyond measuring...<br />
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Stay tuned.. The next article will be "My WHAT plan"<br />
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until then,<br />
Peace&Grease.<br />
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<br />I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-81170043696138803982016-01-10T17:00:00.000-08:002016-01-10T17:00:43.727-08:00To Fight A Hidden Past.November, 1984.<br />
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As the deputy walked me around the courthouse to the jail, I knew my life was fixing to change. This was the fourth time in eleven months I had been handcuffed. Judge Case decided that I needed more guidance in my life. He was so sure of the fact that he signed as a witness when I signed up for the Army's delayed entry program. On 5 Feb, 1985, just over a month after my 17th birthday I reported to Fort Benning, Ga. for basic and advanced training in the Infantry.. There were several reasons that I chose the Infantry. I was a big fan of John Wayne and Audy Murphy... and the Army offered me a $3000 signing bonus. (recruiter lied, I didn't get the money). I was given the choice of first duty station and I chose Fort Lewis, Washington for good reason. Not only was the Pacific Northwest a beautiful area, Ft. Lewis was also home of The 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment and 1st Special Forces Group. I wanted to be the best. Imagine my surprise when I learned that I had joined a COHORT Unit. <span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">(cohesion, operational readiness, training), I would be in the same unit with the same guys I went to basic with. The whole company was going to Ft. Lewis, Together. No chance of Ranger school for me, or any of us for that matter.. Basic and Advanced training took 16 weeks and as the youngest Soldier in the unit, I was Special. Some of that was good. Some of that was bad. Attention is not something that you want in that environment. I was pushed to excel. Pushed to set the standard. "What is the matter with you Private.? Even Wood can do it and he ain't even out of high school yet". I wasn't the Best, but I wanted to be.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Graduation then a couple of days leave to see family and on 2 May,1985 we reported to Ft, Lewis, Wash. 4th Battalion/ 23d Infantry Regiment. 9th Infantry Division. I Corps. Under the command of General Norman Schwarzkopf. A Unit of Distinction. Within 6 months of being on Ft. Lewis, Our Battalion became the 9th Infantry's Quick Reaction Force and I Corps Parade Battalion. The Best "Straight Leg" Infantry Unit in the history of the World. Or so we were told.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> Our unit training was of the intense variety. There was no such thing as "Training Speed". "We don't train like the girls down the road." still rings in my ears. That saying was meant for the 3d/60th just south of us on Libby Ave. To our north was The 2d/75th Ranger Battalion. We shared the same P.T. field and on more than a few occasions we trained with them as their opposing force. I wanted that Ranger Tab so bad I could taste it but it was out of my reach. No individual schools for my unit. "Soldier On" 1st. Sargent Liggett told me that he would guarantee me a slot after I reenlisted... 20yrs old, E-5 with three yrs service would have put me at the top. The only thing left for me to do was to earn the coveted</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><b style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Expert Infantryman Badge</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">, or</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><b style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">EIB</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">, is a</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_badges_of_the_United_States" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="Military badges of the United States">special skills badge</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">of the</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Army" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="United States Army">United States Army</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">. Although similar in name and appearance to the</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Combat_Infantryman_Badge" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="Combat Infantryman Badge">Combat Infantryman Badge</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">(CIB), it is a completely different award: while the CIB is awarded to infantrymen for participation in ground combat, the EIB is presented for completion of a course of testing designed to demonstrate proficiency in infantry skills.</span><br />
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The EIB was first created in October 1943. Currently, it is awarded to U.S. Army personnel who hold <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infantry" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Infantry">infantry</a> or <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special_forces" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Special forces">special forces</a> military occupational specialties. To be awarded the EIB, the soldier must complete a number of prerequisites and pass a battery of graded tests on Infantry skills.</div>
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">We stood in formation before entering the field. "The Bear", General Schwarzkopf, stood before us. With a motivational speech he prepared us to "Achieve Greatness". Then my World changed. A medic approached my company 1st. Sargent. Then the medic approached me. I was to report to Madigan Army medical center. I was crushed. Truth be told, I teared up..I was ready to earn my Award..</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> I had been having some problems with my feet from all the training and I'd had some tests done at the Med Center the week before.. Feet problems were common in our unit so i didn't think it was a big deal. I was just gonna push through the P.T test, forced road march and land navigation coarse like I always had. In 48hrs, I would have my EIB. I had no idea that my life and dream was about to change. I sat before the desk of a Lieutenant Colonel, looking at x-rays and MRI film I was informed that my military career was over. He pointed out that my arches had collapsed and there were stress fractures in both of my achilles tendons.. I was being put on a permanent profile. No running, no marching. That is a death sentence to an Infantryman. I went to a medical review board a few days later to plead my case. Luckily my Command Sargent Major was on the review board. He had my back but it was no use. The boards findings were By The Book. Because of the permanent medical profile I was barred from reenlistment, Because it was my first enlistment, I couldn't be reclassified into another MOS. I was granted 10% disability and told to have a nice day... My Sargent Major told me to meet him at his office. We talked as Men and he asked me, "What do you want to do?" "Top, my career in your Army is over. Its time for me to go to the house". He agreed and called my Company Commander. It took me two days to turn in my gear and clear post. From parade field to civilian in 5 days.5 May, 1988. I was devastated.. After my Honorable discharge I was placed on "inactive Reserve status". for 4 more years.. That time would expire in 1990. Then I got a letter in the mail. Certified. Department of the Army. I was to report to my closest military installation for inprossessing. I was being called up for the Gulf War under the command of "Stormin Norman". When I reported to Fort Lewis I was told that I would not be needed because of my Medical condition. Only those who have prepared for battle understand.the gravity. I was no longer needed. I would watch My war on CNN.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Part of being with a unit for 3 yrs is the bond that men build. That was the Army's plan. To say w knew each other would be an understatement. We knew Everything about each other,, including their sisters names. Private Applegate invited me to join his family for Thanksgiving 85 but I had chosen to take Christmas leave instead. How was I to know that my decision would bar me from having dinner with the future Miss. Kelly Bundy, his cousin, Christina Applegate. I could have ate a grenade</span><span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> when he showed me the pictures on his return from leave..One of the men I served with was a guy from north Georgia named Edward Simms. He would get red faced every time I saw him. As a true Southerner, he took a playful offence to me calling him a Damn Yankee..Being Born in Jeff Davis County, Ga. gave me that right. Everybody knows that anybody north of I-16 is a Damn Yank.We pushed on together, peeled a truck load of taters in a desert and did enough pushups to move Georgia half way to Hell. He was the Best man at my first wedding..</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Back before cell phones and the internet, it was difficult to keep in touch or find lost friends. All I had to go on was his name, years of service and that his folks lived in north Georgia. Every time I would ride through North Ga. I would stop and call all the Simms's listed in the local phonebook, to no avail. Then one day, 17yrs later, I made another call. "Hello." "Crusty, What are you doin?" "Woody, I was just sitting here thinking about you." Three days later he's sitting on my couch in Tennessee. Some bonds can never be broken. We reminisced about the Him's and Her's of our time. The horrible food. The 25mile forced road marches and the painting of rocks. Our times in the Yakama desert and Fort Ord, California. We talked about Klahn and Mabry, Dean and Pratt, Sgt,.Mefford, and his wife. we hashed it all. His memory was far better than mine. We had spent three years together becoming The Razors Edge. We had plenty to talk about. "Why did you beat that guy up that one night when you were on CQ?". (Charge of Quarters) I hadn't thought about that fight in 17years but the memory came back as clear as if it was happening now.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">"Smith" (not his real name) was a big guy from out in Kansas. He was a good Soldier. As good as anyone of us.. It was a weekend in the Barracks and I was riding the desk all night. The boys were hooping it up in the day room with a couple of gals from town and a bunch of beer. I had told them for the last time to keep the beers off the snooker table. I was the asshole. It was snowing which was odd for Ft. Lewis. The snow falling down in the barracks quad had a peaceful tone to it.. As the snow and empty beer cans accumulated the night took a drastic change... In a rush, around ten guys came rushing past my desk. The mood was jovial as there was now enough snow for them to play in. "Smith" was drunk. Not falling down drunk but he was slurring his words a bit.. He was hollering about "Let's have a snowball fight". He was excited about it, jumping up and down with excitement.. Then he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me from my desk chair. Pulling me out the door.. I snapped. I beat that man severely. I might well have done permanent damage had I not been pulled off of him by the rest of the guys.. He was taken to the Barracks aide station and the event was covered up. It was never spoken of again.. I felt remorse. I grieved about it. That behavior was not me. I had never lost my cool in such a way. I couldn't reconcile my behavior. That singular event began to haunt my thoughts. 17 years after the fact. I needed to know the why's of what I had done. Primal instinct kicks in when you are confronted with a threat. This was not a threat. It was a snowball fight. Why had I gone straight to "Battle frenzy" with this guy.? Bezerk was my mindset and vengeance was my goal. But I had no understanding of why. I had blocked the past from my mind.. It took me eight long years to get back to that moment that shaped me..</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">It was March, 1986. I remember because something I believed as odd happened.. sitting in a foxhole in the Yakima desert, My sergeant approaches from our rear and chews my ass because "His only mission in this shithole was to bring me my mail". (in 1983 when Mt. St. Helens erupted the state of Washington had spread all the volcanic ash that they had collected from the roadways in the Yakima Desert, It was truly a shithole). I had received a letter from my High-school guidance consular, Mrs. Pat Porter.. In the envelope was an invitation to me High-school class graduation. I had been in the Army for 13 months and a lifetime from my classmates.. When our training cycle was complete, Our unit headed back to Ft. Lewis. The time in garrison was used to clean and inspect equipment, re-enter society and get some much needed R&R. It had always been that way but this time was different. There was a buzz about the Fort.. Tensions were high as a developing situation was evolving in Libya. After a couple of days in Garrison we were put on alert and 24hrs later our Battalion was activated to respond. As the Quick Reaction Force for the 9th Infantry Division, we had trained to be Unit mobile in 36hrs.. We had trained for all </span></span><span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">scenario's, Plane, Train or Ship. What we had not trained for was the quick turn around. Our Unit was in pieces for cleaning and inspections. We had tents in the quad that were still air drying. Trucks in the Motor pool were torn apart for service and men were scattered everywhere spending some downtime with family and friends. Plus 30hrs we were at McCord AFB loading onto C-5A galaxies in route to Libya. Tensions were high but we had trained hard for this scenario.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Our first stop en route was Tinker AFB, Okla. We found it odd that we had to remove all of our equipment from the planes. The C-5A's could have easily taken us all the way to Libya. We spent the next three days in an empty airplane hanger with the only information that the weather had us grounded.. Understand that in 1986 nobody had a cell phone or any way to check the news. No radio. No television. We played cards and did pushups. We ate MRE's and 20yr old C-Rations. We cleaned what gear we could and waited for news and direction... That direction finally came... GET ON THE BUS..</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">What the fuck.? Are we going into combat on a big yellow bus.? Thats when we realized that we were not going to Libya. We would not see combat.. Someone with a Star on his shoulder had lied to our whole Battalion.. This was a Readiness Training Exercise. We were taken by school bus to Ft. Chaffee, Ark. for a two week field training exercise. Unit moral was as low as it could go.. Too many mind games had been played out. Some guys had spent less than a day off in over a month of training and were now looking at two more weeks without Glory.. We, E-4 and below who had spent the last 14 months together, collectively decided that we would push this exercise to the limit. Each man would give it 100%. We were tired of The Testing. We were going to prove our worth..</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Foxholes. Fields of Fire. Overhead cover, Probing Patrols. We had a mission. We were to seek out, engage and destroy the enemy. Part of our unit had been split off to act as our opposing force. It didn't take leadership long to realize that the unit was operating well above the level of Training Speed. Captives were hogtied and gagged. Some of the men took the training too far. The level of intensity was beyond extreme..</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Dark of night. Two men to a foxhole. A runner comes behind us to let us know that the enemy is approaching.. Our trip wires send up parachute flares. The land and sky in front of us is illuminated and we can see the enemy coming.. my hole has 4 claymores set and we are banging the clackers to detonate.. flashbangs are going off all around us... Our enemy has removed all of their "Miles gear" (think laser tag on steroids) we can't kill them.. We are being over run. The guy in the hole with me bugs out the back and is running towards our Command Post in the rear.. I see the fire in his eyes as "Smith" dives into my foxhole on top of me.. He is crazy. punching and kicking. I see the butt of his AK-47, then the lights go out...</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">The next thing I remembered was the explosion in my head. It was quiet now but at first, i thought i was deaf. The pain in my head had me completely disoriented.. What happened.? Where is everybody.? Did that really just fuckin happen..? I felt the crease and dent in my steel pot helmet with my hands. I had been knocked out with a rifle butt to the head.. It was still dark and i was disoriented. I made my way back to the CP where an after-action review was in progress.. I had been killed in battle. I felt shame. There was only one man who knew what had happened. It was never spoken of again. That memory was repressed for 17yrs and then another 8yrs to dig deep enough to remember.. for the last 4 years I've carried that memory without understanding its meaning. Until two weeks ago when I spoke, openly to my therapist.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">I have known men who have experienced worse and those who have done worse. Men who have seen the truth of battle. My story does in no way compare to what those men have been through. I hold them with the highest esteem. I write my story as therapy for myself and anyone who can gather some knowledge or understanding.. Through the process of remembering and spending time with my therapist, I've come to understand some of how this has effected my life. An event that happened when I was 18yrs old has had a lasting impression. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Abandonment. Fear, Vigilance, self worth, trust, hopelessness, depression. Using drugs and alcohol to cope. These are just some of the stones that I have carried without any understanding of why.. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">I do not seek your sympathy, but, I would ask you for a measure of understanding. Not just for me, but for all that fight a hidden past. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> Peace&Grease</span></span><br />
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<br />I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-74669650580116188852015-11-30T14:13:00.000-08:002015-11-30T14:13:20.808-08:00Just my opinion.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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o·pin·ion</div>
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a view or judgment formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge: <a h="ID=SERP,5309.1" href="http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/us/" style="color: #600090; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; touch-action: manipulation;" title="">Oxford Dictionaries</a><span style="color: #888888; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;"> · © Oxford University Press </span></div>
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<br />
. You have heard it all before.. "Opinions are like assholes. Everybody's got one". "You ain't smart enough to have an opinion". and a favorite of mine from Drill Sargent Burlington. "Soldier, If the Army wanted you to have an opinion they would issue you one".<br />
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We are slapped in the face every day with a barrage of opinions from every corner. Yes, It is someones opinion that you SHOULD take your family to Olive Garden and yer not a good person if you don't. Advertising is just an opinion. Marketing is a tool to push an agenda. Im not picking on Olive Garden. Im calling them all out.. We are marketed to in the hope that we would be swayed to increase their profits... I get that. I've been on both sides, as a consumer and as an advertiser. But its just an opinion. Not necessarily based on fact or knowledge.. Think about how many times the car manufacturers have told you that without "Their" product you aren't living up to your potential. YOU DESERVE,,,, that new truck.. Thats just their opinion. and this is just mine. They are motivated by profit.<br />
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Everyone has an opinion. but there was a time before social media when most of us kept our opinions to our selves.. Through the magic of facebook we can get the opinions of everyone. This past week a woman ductaped a dogs muzzle. Why.? I have no earthly idea. not something I would do but thats not my point.. my point is this, A gadzillion people took the time to give their opinion about it. So many gave an opinion about it that it became a global news story. I guess that everyone in the world now knows that this is unacceptable behavior. The South Daytona Police Dept. was so overwhelmed with calls and emails that it effected the level of service that they could provide. (side note. She doesnt live in South Daytona). A stupid mistake that has put her under the microscope of scrutiny. I hope she is strong enough to weather the storm. I don't know her. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. People concentrated on the dogs well being and gave no consideration to the human life that they were berating. one comment was, "she should be beat". well who the fuck are you to pass judgement.and promote a punishment? What kind of human are you.? You are common unfortunately. and then you continued scrolling.<br />
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<img alt="Brown and her dog (in another Facebook picture) before Brown duct-taped the pooch's mouth" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/11/28/05/2EDE818B00000578-0-image-a-93_1448687732977.jpg" /><br />
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We have entered a time where everyone on this planet thinks that they have a news studio.</div>
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on their laptop and an audience that they wish to inform the masses.</div>
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We have broadcast capabilities. some push for a bigger audience and some achieve that </div>
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goal. The part that is missing is the integrity of the broadcast. Checking facts and sources of </div>
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information. Yes. when you share a link you are saying, "This is what I believe". Yes, there is</div>
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room for humor and satire but to desimenate false information is morally wrong.. We are </div>
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creating a monster. The character of the beast is this. "I don't know who can be trusted </div>
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anymore". </div>
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<img alt="PHOTO: Robert Lewis Dear of North Carolina is seen in these undated photos provided by the El Paso County Sheriffs Office." height="133" src="http://a.abcnews.go.com/images/US/ap_robert_dear_mugshot_mt_151128_12x5_1600.jpg" width="320" /></div>
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And then there is this guy...</div>
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killed three, wounded nine. Why.? "No more baby parts"... thats what he was quoted as </div>
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saying.. Here is my version of the story.</div>
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HEADLINES. </div>
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Three killed, Nine injured by crazed gunman.</div>
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A man born in America, who looks crazy, did some crazy shit.. After watching a Fox news </div>
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story about Planned Parenthood being funded by the US government and selling baby </div>
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body parts, this dude goes berserk. He drives 65miles from his home and opens fire on</div>
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a health clinic. He is quoted as saying, "no more baby parts". we also report that he enjoys </div>
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freaky sex.. now to the weather..</div>
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WTF.?</div>
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I'm not saying what he did was right, far from it.. </div>
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He believed Fox News and acted upon the news..</div>
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A few points to consider..</div>
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why is the federal government involved in supporting any social services? its a state issue </div>
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that should be voted on by the people. If the people in your state don't agree with your </div>
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opinions, you can move.. We are United States. Not identical states.</div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.2em;">Is Planned Parenthood really selling body parts.? If so, Fox news should be showing video</span></div>
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of PP"s board of directors being hauled off in chains. I'm pretty sure that selling body parts</div>
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is illegal. </div>
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can we actually trust that the news is truth and not just some corporate opinion.? </div>
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there are 6 corporations that control almost all of the media..</div>
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here are a few headlines I've read today.. and I have no clue whether they are true or not.</div>
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you tell me.. </div>
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California signs Law allowing Illegals to vote.</div>
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Marine Veteran tries to escape cold, wind and rain but Walmart refuses to let him in.</div>
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Man loses lawsuit claiming BMW motorcycle gave him an extended erection. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Segoe UI, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 1.2em; white-space: nowrap;"> OPINION might be harmful to others.. Opinions are not </span><span style="line-height: 19.2px; white-space: nowrap;">necessarily based on</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Segoe UI, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19.2px; white-space: nowrap;"> Be kind to one another</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Segoe UI, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19.2px; white-space: nowrap;">until we meet again.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Segoe UI, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19.2px; white-space: nowrap;">Peace&Grease</span></span></span></div>
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-36529880284898686992015-11-17T06:27:00.001-08:002015-11-17T06:27:47.434-08:00Timestamp. November 1995<img height="425" src="http://cdn-0.motorsport.com/static/img/mgl/700000/780000/786000/786100/786170/s1_1.jpg" width="640" /><br />
<div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike></div>
<div>
Timestamp, November 1995</div>
<div>
My world was steady spinning out of control. I had just spent the last few years up in Nashville working on an Artist development deal with Asylum Records. Four years of Playing guitar and entertaining at Tootsies while trying to work full time at Gibson Guitar, my days and nights were little more than a blur. I spent every waking moment working my craft. I was a performer and I was good at it. What I was learning was the business of the music industry. What I wanted was the creative side. A huge difference between the two. Long story short, Asylum would be making a decision about my future in the very near future. Either I would have a development deal or the other guy would. His name was Brian White. He got the deal. I got a handshake. He got an opportunity and I got a bottle of jack daniels. I had been weighed and measured and found wanting.. I could deal with the rejection side of the thing. I knew my chances were slim but that singular moment put me at a crossroad. "Where do I go from here".?.</div>
<div>
So with a fifth of jack and an early 70s buick skylark, I headed south to figure out my future. No. I was loathing my own existence. feeling sorry for myself . The dealer of my cards had given me a shitty hand and I was about to fold. From Nashville to south Georgia. I was headed back to my roots and another beginning. I'm not sure when the bottle went dry but sunrise found me at my Aunt Mutt's river cabin south of Claxton. (yes, I have an Aunt named Mutt. Don't you.?) The Dead River gave me some peace. Solitude was my comfort and whiskey made it a bearable drink..</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The Golden Birthday</div>
I had never heard of such a thing. I had been writing songs with a guy from ASCAP and he told me the story of The golden birthday.. It happens but one time in a persons life. When your day of birth matches your years, Yer Golden. My 28th birthday would happen on the 28th of December. My friend asked me, "Where will you spend your Golden Birthday"? I had no clue.. The whole time I had known Tim we would drink and he would reminisce about his times "on the right coast of florida". From Daytona to Oak Hill was his stomping grounds. He was a true Wordsmith. When he spoke of this place he painted pictures of a place that looked wonderful to me. As I sat on the bank of the dead river holding a guitar that I no longer wanted to play, I decided that my Golden Birthday would be spent in Florida.<br />
<br />
A new town was on my horizon. I had never been to New Smyrna Beach. I had no plans. I had no contacts. The only reason I was there was a friends drunken ramblings about a small town and that the town had NEW in its name.. Mornings alone on the beach beat me down. The horizon of the Atlantic kept reminding me how small and insignificant I truly was. Christmas, my Golden birthday and new years I celebrated with perfect strangers.. The Veil of anonymous was comforting. I could go and do as I wished. I was not constrained by expectations. It had been 6yrs sense I had been in a meaningful relationship. I had nothing that needed to be done. Until the money in my pocket started getting dangerously small. Work has seldom been hard for me to find. It has usually found me. Jimmy Buffett is not hard to play on a six string and it seemed that every bar had a tiki hut out back. Pub 44 was the first. an open guitar case for tips turned into 3 nights a week at $200 a night plus tips and an open bar tab had my financial needs covered. My nights off found me playing guitar and singing in clubs up and down the coast. life was good. Until I moved in with Her. <br />
<br />
She was the Devils sister. it only lasted two weeks. the only reason she even gets mentioned is because of her demented and controlling ways, I found The Ledo Beach Hotel. A quaint little 1940s bungalow hotel with a swimming pool looking out over Daytona Beach and the Atlantic. For the small price of $200 a week, I had the perfect pad for me. Sleeping days and playing nights. I had all that I needed. food, clothing and shelter. Wine women and songs. Cocaine and weed was easier to get then a speeding ticket. The only thing I didn't have was,,,, a long term lease.. after two and a half months of paying my weekly rent on Mondays, I return to pay the man. That's when I am told that my $200 a week room is now $680 a week. "Welcome Race Fans". It was speedweek . Overnight my landlord had become a pirate. A man devoid of any moral fiber and a cold stone where his heart once was. Its Monday around noon and I just found out that I'm homeless, again.<br />
<br />
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to loose"<br />
Me and Bobbi Magee.<br />
<br />
Timestamp. Today.<br />
<br />
Its taken 20yrs of life to end up right back where I was. When my motor blew up a month ago something drastically changed in my life. My ability to travel freely had come to a grinding halt, literally. My human right to pursue happiness had been taken from me by fate.. This wasn't my plan. After biketoberfest I had planned on the Galveston rally and then work the winter around the gulf coast.. I Had A Plan. and once again, I'm taught the frailty of a mans plan. Life can change in a moment. It always does. Ive spent the last month learning.. learning my options. evaluating my situation. exploring possibilities. And beating myself up because I allowed this to happen to me.. Then I beat myself up about beating myself up. "Who am I to complain about my situation?" I can't complain. I've been provided all that I need and most of what I want. I no longer have the belief that I "Deserve" anything. I have been taught the difference between Grace and Mercy and I feel that I am truly blessed. I am Thankful. <br />
<img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nanLHR7-TJY/UcIMhaiR6pI/AAAAAAAAAsI/rxf1bcxp7BY/s640/7907_10151638877013396_1223888559_n.jpg" /><br />
until we meet again...<br />
Peace&Grease..<br />
<br />I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-75816904853686691172015-10-28T07:35:00.003-07:002015-11-02T07:31:35.968-08:00It Was Bound To Happen..Rest in Peace My old friend.<br />
early morning 10 Apr. 2013 - late night 14 Oct, 2015<br />
<br />
This is not an obituary as much it is a celebration of Life..<br />
<img alt="" class="pm-O-x" height="358" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WelATG0qkRA/Vjd-NeVU-UI/AAAAAAAAC2g/6r-c_KHarTs/h120/IMG_20150830_014803158_HDR.jpg" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; width: 214px;" width="640" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
She was born, might I even say conceived of a singular purpose. FREEDOM.<br />
Though she lived what some consider a short life, she was destined to LIVE Completely.<br />
For less than three years, She travelled freely from town to town. Making new friends and inspiring thought in others. Some would even turn there nose up as if she were known to be the town gutterslut. I've seen the look in a mans eye. The envy. The wander. The understanding. The appreciation. She effected all who noticed.<br />
<img alt="" class="pm-O-x" height="358" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wgVxw0iYNOc/Vjd-biOWNyI/AAAAAAAAC2o/hNX4Ea_-jMI/h120/IMG_20150830_014825329_HDR.jpg" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; width: 214px;" width="640" /><br />
<br />
Today I received word from S&S Cycles, (The engine manufacturer). Their diagnosis was that the only thing salvageable was her front jug. Old Glory's heart would beat no more. 91,000 + miles. We could speculate her demise but it would serve no good purpose. Either the lifter or a cam bearing went. no telling which went first..<br />
<img alt="" class="pm-O-x" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lHvVNm2x000/Vjd-ye-sAMI/AAAAAAAAC2w/ol8qQY4FIe0/h120/IMG_20151017_091252494_HDR.jpg" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; width: 68px;" width="362" /><br />
<br />
Old Glory was conceived of as part of a TV show that failed. The bike was built to ride the Pan American Hwy. I named her Ole Glory. My goal was to build a 100% American Made MoterSickle . I did. Not to toot her horn, {she had no horn) I found FREEDOM on that dirty girl..<br />
<br />
I say Dirty Girl.. She truly was.. Even when she did get a washdown. The State of Tennessee were dicks and wanted a ton of paper on her to make her legit. Old Glory agreed to my suggestion that we just use the tag off of my old chopper.. Only one cop questioned it.. Somehow he knew that he was not looking at a 1976 Honda CB550. After an amazing story validated by Manufactures statements of Origin for the motor and frame he wrote me a $200 ticket for an expired drivers license. and the warning that I couldn't ride the bike without a drivers license and that he would be patrolling to the north.. He originally pulled me over because I had a plastic, hand written in sharpie, license plate.. I had lost the metal plate in florida. That South Dakota Trooper saved the county taxpayers a lot of money that day.<br />
<img alt="963744_10201338709095512_693269865_o.jpg" class="fg-Dl-Ng-ge" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BqP0bXgfqFg/UcH8z-S2QmI/AAAAAAAAArs/P04Yion0Ypk/w105-h140-p/963744_10201338709095512_693269865_o.jpg" style="height: 140px; transform: rotate(0deg); width: 105px;" title="963744_10201338709095512_693269865_o.jpg" width="480" /><br />
<img alt="" class="pm-O-x" height="358" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gEA54M4gbg8/Vjd_JX1UylI/AAAAAAAAC24/XYtBs3PEhGM/h120/IMG_20151015_115911549_HDR.jpg" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; width: 214px;" width="640" /><br />
<br />
She never did complain much. and when she did It wasn't much to satisfy her. The biggest problems we had were the charging system and the connection between the engine and tranny.. Sure, we spent a lot of time together with tools in hand, but I never argued. I usually didn't have a schedule so we were able to meet new people. the old guy in texas that helped me half the day fixing my rear tire blowout. Them cool cats in western Carolina.. The Hooligans in Lexington KY that took me in like a full patch member when my charging system shit the bed.. Me and Old Glory have met a lot of people with a tool in hand.. The scheduled maintenance was another adventure all together.. I remember one time at an outside bar in florida. I rolled up and got a beer. my bike 10ft from the bar. that afternoon I changed all three sets of brake pads on my bike and partied with the bar crowd. after cleaning up, I proceeded to pull out my cook stove and cook dinner for the bartender and I. I cant make this shit up... we had clam chowder and shrimp ramen noodles.<br />
.<img alt="921081_10201079249169176_1150961878_o.jpg" class="fg-Dl-Ng-ge" height="640" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fBPLdvYqTTk/UcHooi5NwNI/AAAAAAAAArA/Cw4UxBGkwok/w105-h140-p/921081_10201079249169176_1150961878_o.jpg" style="height: 140px; transform: rotate(0deg); width: 105px;" title="921081_10201079249169176_1150961878_o.jpg" width="480" /><img alt="922117_10201077827373632_249236095_o.jpg" class="fg-Dl-Ng-ge" height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4b4zXX312rA/UcHoo9gGSAI/AAAAAAAAArE/YZ4Y8UabMgM/w140-h105-p/922117_10201077827373632_249236095_o.jpg" style="height: 105px; transform: rotate(0deg); width: 140px;" title="922117_10201077827373632_249236095_o.jpg" width="640" /><br />
there was a lot of maintenance in 91,000 miles.. oil changes, tires, brakes, chains, sprockets, shocks, luggage mounts, wheel bearings, neck bearings, rebuilding brake calipers, batteries, charging systems, wiring, primary chains, clutch discs, wiring , cables and a few other little things. <br />
<br />
She enjoyed all the roads and the occasional off road rides.. Riding the prairie north of Newell, SD was a most enjoyable time for her.. She seemed to enjoy the life of a tractor with low rpm torque and first/second gear. She would bound over the ruts and rises of the open range with the cattle and bison. She has enjoyed the backwoods in almost all the states. She has a soft spot for the high country of Montana, Idaho and Colorado during the warmth of summer and fall. Her preference was the gulf coast or the Right coast of Florida during the winter. The mid southeast in the spring and then follow the frostline up to the border. <img alt="" class="pm-O-x" height="358" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NY5daxdglHU/Vjd_i9tX3HI/AAAAAAAAC3A/bw_JVg6qJGU/h120/IMG_20150830_033124255.jpg" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; width: 214px;" width="640" /><br />
but she had no problem setting out in the cold either. on 20 Feb, 2014 we left florida attempting to ride all 48 states in 14days.. that day was one of those weird days when it snows in all 50 states.. fact . That was the beginning of Winter Storm Thor.. the coldest that we were in was 4degrees in Walcott, Iowa. I had to push her into a wash bay to warm the oil enough to get her started.<br />
<img alt="Day 9 002.jpg" class="fg-Dl-Ng-ge" height="356" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZNec5OT_6iI/UxP-HwVqzSI/AAAAAAAABGI/FM614YYDkbg/w140-h78-p/Day%2B9%2B002.jpg" style="height: 78px; transform: rotate(0deg); width: 140px;" title="Day 9 002.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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She was sure of foot, a bit top heavy when fully loaded and she couldn't handle much likker but seldom did she leave me stranded. I usually had what I needed to get her fixed and us down the road.. she threw a chain one afternoon in the middle of nowhere north central Nebraska.. This is the same day that I'm limping down the highway to retrieve the chain that just whipped the shit out of me in the rain... After inspecting the chain I come to the realization that I have just walked an eighth of a mile to pick up a no good chain. Walking back to my bike and the rain stops.. I push the bike down the road to the next driveway and park the bike next to a stack of round hay bales.. I start walking back towards the last town I had left. I knew it to be about 6 miles.. I made it about a half a mile before farmer Joe picked me up. He said that the swinging chain in my hand was what told him that I needed help.. he took me to the tractor supply, I got my chain and he rode me back to my bike. There are still good people out there.. I had everything I needed to fix her.. try cutting a 530 chain to length with a 6in. mill bastard file.. But I got her fixed. and we rode east with the sun setting in my mirrors across the Nebraska plains.<br />
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I'm not sure what the future holds for the rest of Old Glory. Do I give her a new soul.? do I scrap her and start over.? do I change my mode of transport.? I'm still in mourning and really just at a loss of what direction to head. A motor swap would be the quickest and most cost effective solution but I don't want to react and then wonder what might have been. Life without two wheels isn't an option. <br />
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I do want to take this time to thank you all for your kind words and support. You have smoothed the road for me.<br />
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until next time<br />
Peace&Grease.<br />
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<br />I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-3490117623791320132015-10-24T09:48:00.004-07:002015-10-24T09:48:46.367-07:00Greetings from the edge of the road..In the background, Kid Rock is singing "Born Free". I'm shacked up in the garage apartment of a dear friend. Each morning I enjoy the sunrise over the Halifax river and I give thanks to my Creator.. Not because I'm a religious bloke but because I am thankful. Two months ago I was running a bike shop in the Dakota territory and planning for a cold winter. I had already dismissed the idea of being at biketoberfest. Things change and here I am.. From Deadwood to Omaha to check up on some friends. To the Ozarks for dinner and some awesome riding. To Ft. Campbell for a meeting of patriots and then on to NC. for a dinner date. I rolled South to meet up with a friend in north Georgia. We would leave in the morning. 435miles to Daytona.. 10hrs later I coasted my bike into Willies Tropical Tattoo.. The motor had quit two blocks before.. The motor had a huge hole in the rear cylinder rocker cover and broken metel was poking out of the hole.. Ben went for beer and I rolled out my bedroll under the stars.. We enjoyed the late evening of cans and pipes. Music and conversation. We spoke of the day and what tomorrow had in store for us.. We talked about the last 80miles and how I had to press my knee against the carb to keep it from blowing off. The rear cylinder was exhausting through the carb because the exhaust valve wasn't exhausting anymore.. My motor was toast but she had gotten me to our destination.. Willie's Chopper time bike show would start in the morning..<br />
I decided to not worry about the bike .. Let us enjoy the show. The people that I only get to see once a year. The motor would wait.. Willie's Chopper show is more than its name implies.. It is also a fundraiser for "The Veterans Support Fund". A non profit that I have worked with on several occasions.. Good people doing good things.. Check them out on the web.. A good time was had by all..<br />
So, here I am in Daytona. Safe, warm, well fed and completely taken care of.. My motor is in Wisconsin being overhauled by its creator's at S&S Cycles.. I can't brag about that motor enough.. In 31months, she took me 91,000 miles on that 111 cubic inch beast.. It has been an amazing ride.. There isn't enough room here to tell you where she has taken me and I can't imagine the destinations that are yet to come..<br />
Until next time,<br />
Peace&Grease.I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-72381570533887346402015-04-06T08:34:00.001-07:002015-04-06T08:58:35.062-07:00The B.R.O.A.D.'s Heavenly Hill HealsVisiting <a href="http://www.hdbroad.com/" target="_blank">The B.R.O.A.D.</a> for Easter Weekend. What a peaceful area of the country and fresh mountain air with an old friend and new friends.<br />
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-17077625332413597052014-04-29T09:54:00.001-07:002014-04-29T09:54:18.487-07:00final report. Beyond the Bundy Ranch.There are many different elements to this story. The small picture is about a defiant ranching family who has whittled out a life in the wilds of the American west. Bunkerville, Nv. is in the middle of nowhere. It is close to the borders of Arizona and Utah. 80miles North East of Las Vegas. This family has been on this land sense the 1870's. Their stand against the federal government has brought to light many different issues that in my opinion, are the reason for Americans to be concerned. Here are a few of them.<br />
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1) The federal government claims ownership of the land. This in and of itself is the biggest issue to me.. Our federal government has "Assumed" responsibility and authority over 89% of the land mass of the State of Nevada. Not only is this unconstitutional at the federal and state levels, it is also of detriment to the state. (no property tax paid to the state for that land). Nevada is not alone in this situation.. The federal government has be systematically claiming more and more land in all the States.. Yes, there is a need for our federal government to claim and manage land to benefit the Nations interests, i.e., military bases and state parks. This country was founded with the understanding that any land within the boundaries of a State were owned and managed by that state..<br />
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Our Federal government has overtime used its position to claim dominion over all the states.. In the 1970's the federal gov. mandated to the States that if the states did not limit their hi way speeds to 70mph the Federal Gov. would withhold their federal road funds.. In the 80's they did the same thing with drunk driving laws. In the 90's they started putting pressure on the states in regards to gun control laws and the list goes on and on.. Our federal gov. has assumed these responsibilities and in doing so have overstepped the bounds of their authority.<br />
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2)The Federal gov. used the plight of the desert tortoise to assert their authority and push their agenda. We need to look no further than the pacific northwest in the 1990's to see how our federal government used the Spotted owl to disrupt a local economy and then lay claim to hundreds of thousands of acres in Washington and Oregon. Every time this has happened it has been found out that the research was flawed but then it was too late, the damage to local economies had been done and the land was no longer free.. The desert Tortoise sanctuary has been closed down do to a lack of funding and some of the tortoises have been euthanized.. I hope that you and I never sold on the idea of being placed in a government run sanctuary. I'm sure that the outcome would be the same.<br />
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3) The Majority speaker, Senator Harry Reid, Nev. Has been tied to a land deal for 9000 acres of this "federal land" to be sold to a Chinese energy company for a solar farm and the manufacture of solar panels. The first question that entered my mind was, it will be a hell of a daily commute for the workers cause there aint no one that lives in the area.. It has come to light that Harry Reids son, a Clark county commissioner had been retained as legal council for the chinese energy company. At the very least, Senetor harry reid has once again used his family and his political position to benefit himself and his family. By stepping on the backs of the American people harry reid has once again lined his own pockets.. and why has there not been more public outrage in regards to this corruption ? Because the main stream media will not cover these issues.. Can you imagine The US attorney general bringing charges against the senate majority leader. ??<br />
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one of the issues that was voiced by locals while i was at the ranch was this.. The Department of the Interior and the BLM are federal entities. The people who are voting on these issues at the federal level have not been voted for or elected by the People of Nevada. They feel that they have no representation. This has become the norm here in the land of the free and the home of the brave.<br />
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I've said it before and here I will say it again.... The only solution is to get back to State Run Government.. The power and authority of the Federal Gov. should be limited. Currently there are 294 departments in the Federal Gov. Each state has a corresponding office for each department. We as a country were founded with the belief that each state as independent. each state chose to join the union for the collective good of the States. Our Federal Gov. has turned our country into "The 50 identical states of America". Think about this.. State run government. WE THE PEOPLE. Accountability.<br />
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In closing, I want to share with you one last story of Big Government abuse.<br />
We have all heard about "The Americans With Disabilities Act". It makes sense to me. We as a people are better off for this kind of legislation BUT.... because it is run at the federal level it doesn't always work at the state level.<br />
A friend of mine is a cattle rancher just north of Sturgis, SD. He is also on the local school board. One day we talked about The federal Gov. suing his school district $700,000 because the two story school building does not have an elevator. The law states that the public school has to be handicap accessible . The Federal law does not take into account that this public school building was built in 1890. But here is the kicker.. sense the doors opened in 1890 the school has never had a handicap student enrolled. The taxpayers in that district are being bullied by the federal government. Some people think its the responsibility of the federal government to address every issue in an Americans life.. I disagree completely..<br />
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We, as Americans need to redefine the purpose, responsibilities and authority of OUR federal Government. It is my opinion that the definition can be found in The Constitution of The United States of America (notice in the title of the document the words UNITED STATES). The declaration of Independence and The Bill of Rights..<br />
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Until next time,<br />
Peace&GreaseI AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-1789880633130814502014-04-25T07:53:00.001-07:002014-04-25T07:53:24.674-07:00part two... Beyond the Bundy ranch.there has been so much mid information that we as Americans, don't know what to believe anymore..<br />
I talked with a local woman and her mother. They were bringing water in 200gallon tanks for cooking and cleaning..we were talking about the $1.1mil fine that the government says the Bundys owe.. Here is her explanation.<br />
when the BLM counts the cattle on an alotment, the count from the air and they count them all.. About half the cattle in the Bundy herd are not Bundys. She called them slick ears. Cattle with no brand, no ear tags no ownership. These cows have been wild on the open range. The state of Nevada has claimed ownership of the wild animals. A rancher cannot sell cattle that they do not own. The federal government is including the wild cows into the Bundy count and charging them fines for the tresspass cattle...<br />
there are people who feel that they should pay their fines to the Federal government. I disagree. This family has seen the federal government systematically put ALL the other ranchers out of business.. A total of 53 ranching operations closed down. The ranchers of this area are a hearty lot.. They have whittled out a life in the middle of nowhere. The Bundys raise cows, horses, lamb, chickens, melons and 6-8 cuttings of alfalfa a year. And they raise kids.. 14 in all. Cliven married a second time after his first wife past from cancer. A family of the Mormon faith, a teatotaler and a man who is well respected by the community.<br />
I witnessed a group of over 100 men armed and dedicated to the cause. These men and women belonged to The Oathkeepers and different malitias from all across America.. These people are resolute in their mission.. that mission is this, protect the Bundys from assassination and to protect the sovereignty of The State. No one that I talked to came across as the crazy who wants to send the first bullet.. These people have studied the generational disolve of our State rights.. I heard this quote several times. " if there be trouble let it be in my day that my children will know peace". Tomas Payne, A Revolutionist.... This is not just a Nevada issue.. It is happening all over the country. Look at the red river area of texas/Oklahoma. There is no better Stewart of the land than the man who lives on it...<br />
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more to follow.I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-92010752467285260802014-04-23T10:33:00.000-07:002014-04-23T10:33:39.063-07:00Beyond the Bundy Ranch.like most things in my life, the idea of me going to Bunkerville, NV. was a spur of the moment thing. It was my opinion that the situation there was a pivotal time in American history. When people made contributions to get me there to report what I found, I knew that it was important to them as well. So I left Ashville NC and headed west. 2250miles west.. I wasn't in a huge hurry to get there for several reasons. One, I knew that this would be a long term situation and two, I didn't want to be there with thousands of "kooky Lou's.<br />
As I approached exit 112 on interstate 15, I was anticipating law enforcement, cameras and traffic counting devices.. I found none of that. What I did find was a new $2million interstate interchange in the middle of nowhere. There is currently no good reason for that interchange to be there. I can only speculate as to why that interchange was built but you can bet that someone convinced the state DOT that it was needed to develop the area... Three miles south of I-15 on state route 170. As I rounded a downhill curve I knew I had arrived at the protest site. American flags, caution tape, traffic cones, six large RVs, 20 portable toilets and 15 people milling about. I pulled in and the first person I encountered was quite the Dude. A jovial Californian of about 75 yrs young. His wardrobe choice told me that he had never bothered with reading a fashion magazine. He wore a colt 1911 on his hip and a badge on his chest. The badge read "Brothel Inspector. Nevada City, California". An intelligent character who gave me the lay of the land and his life story.. I used the excuse of needing to set up my camp to separate myself from this man. I made camp on the bank of the Virgin river under the highway bridge.<br />
the next morning as I took a stroll along the river, I came upon the tent camp of Buddy Cox and his 16yr old son, Chris.. More Californians. they had been there sense the day of the standoff with the Feds. They told me of everything that they recalled and we discussed, at length, the misinformation that the media was putting out.. We spent the rest of the day and well into the night together.. Good people. We went to town shopping and I saw him buy the dinner meal for 100 people. We were unloading the food supplies at the improvised kitchen when I started meeting all the people on location.. The man in charge of the kitchen had to tend to his son who was suffering from a heat stroke so I became the camp cook. This allowed me to talk with everyone. And this is what I learned.....I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-51453130402731559942014-03-05T08:46:00.004-08:002014-03-05T08:46:58.688-08:00Day 10 - I road out of Iowa on Monday and was able to get to Central Illinois even in spite of the freshly fallen snow. Along the way I had to stop and put the bike in a truck wash bay to warm it up. The oil was so cold and thick that we it just wasn't helping.<br />
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Day 11 - From Central Illinois to Kentucky would usually be a much warmer ride south, but this winter is just brutal all the way around. Would you know it - another snow storm - in Kentucky. The day was cut short as the melting snow began to freeze on the highway lanes late in the day. With two lanes shut down and ice on the roadway, it just wasn't worth the risk.<br />
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On Wednesday I am pressing forward to make it at least to central Georgia and from there might be looking forward to a group of riders at the Florida/Georgia line to head back to Daytona with me on Thursday.<br />
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Keep sharing the charity ride info and be sure to support the cause at <a href="http://www.veteranssupportfund.org/">www.veteranssupportfund.org</a><br />
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Peace&GreaseI AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-73250551101241778152014-03-02T20:06:00.000-08:002014-03-02T20:11:10.469-08:00Day 8 - When I woke in West Branch, IA my first order of business was to address the positive post on my battery which had melted. With the help of a friend from the day prior, we went to his shop, found an extra car battery, and rewired the bike to accept the battery. By 11:00 in the morning I was on the road, but it wouldn't be for very long. By the time I reached Walcott, IA around 3:00, I had received notice from my folks in Milwaukee that the snow was starting in force all over again and that my visit would be buried in a blanket of white. The temperature in Walcott when I stopped was 10 degrees and no sooner did I begin to unload my bike than the snow began drifting. I would rest for the day in my meager hotel room and see what tomorrow brings.<br />
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Day 9 - From my hotel room I could see the interstate and it was moving at less than a snail's pace. The snow was still thick and roads not clear enough to be safe. I waited until late morning and it didn't seem to be letting up and as I learned the New England area was no better and more snow to come. So it would seem that I would sit still again this day. My hope is great that tomorrow I'll be able to move on through IL, IN, OH, and maybe even PA to MD.<br />
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Despite the trials and slow downs, I know that this journey is all about our veterans that have given so much for us and I look forward to the last 4 days until I can celebrate this great adventure with my brethren back in Daytona.<br />
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Keep sharing the charity ride info and be sure to support the cause at <a href="http://www.veteranssupportfund.org/">www.veteranssupportfund.org</a></div>
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Peace&Grease</div>
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I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-45399200184147613972014-03-02T10:46:00.000-08:002014-03-02T10:46:12.366-08:00the why of it all...this month marks the 73rd annual Daytona bikeweek. Men and women from around the globe have been making the pilgrimage to Daytona Beach. It has only been in the last 15-20yrs that people have been trailering their shit ... I want to describe the difference between the two...<br />
2013.. His plan is to take two weeks vacation. He and his two buddies have been planning this trip for six months. Two weeks before vacation starts they all decide to stop shaving,in preparation for vacation.. Their first day of vacation is spent loading up the RV. Picking up supplies and groceries then going to the HD dealership where the bikes have received fresh oil changes. Their itenerary is to have everything loaded, a good nights sleep and IHOP at 6am.. They have planned every gas stop, restroom break and restaurant they will stop at.. They have a hotel reservation for their stop in Chattanooga. They have a printed registration and map of the campground that they reserved six months ago.. Day three of vacation is the first day they ride their motorcycles to destination Daytona to pick up their commemorative t-shirts..... And their bikeweek begins...<br />
1973. He worked on his bike all night Thursday.. The day before he had split and stacked firewood for a neighbor to earn some extra cash.. His plan is to roll Friday after he gets his check.. That is the whole of his plan. Not because he isn't a planner but more because he knows how the road goes.. He once reserved a hotel room that because of a break down,he couldn't get too.. As he layed beside his broken bike he vowed never to again pay for a room he couldn't use..430pm Friday, paycheck in hand, first stop is to get that thing cashed and then roll..<br />
his friends will meet him at The Boot Hill Saloon. They don't ride together because it's an individuals journey. They will meet up when they get there.. R.J is coming from West Virginia. Stan is coming from Omaha.. Mark is coming from Pittsburgh. Joes coming from Dallas. When they meet they will each have their own story to tell...his ride is not a vacation. It is a lifestyle. "cuzz the road goes on forever and the party never ends".<br />
You've all heard it said. Its been printed on t-shirts and made into patches.. " I road mine to trailer week". Its been the joke for years.. But I hope you remember, it has not always been that way.. It was more about the comaradery of the travelers.. Meeting up with old and new friends. 73 yrs ago Daytona bikeweek started. Laconia bikeweek (the oldest) will celebrate its 91st annual gathering this year.. Riders back then had a sense of adventure. They were self reliant and they pushed themselves and their machines to the edge of the extremes... That adventurous lifestyle has no tongue weight.. The motorcycle journey doesn't start in a box trailer and a plan is nothing more than the beginning of disappointment..<br />
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The Boot Hill Saloon is celebrating 40plus yrs.. It has become the cornerstone of Daytona bikeweek. The oldest biker bar in Daytona.. There is a reason that the sign out front says Boot Hill Saloon and Museum. Its that much of a legacy.. Another part of that legacy is the men and women who made that journey.. There are still quite a few who continue that tradition...<br />
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as I sit here in a cheap hotel room in Walcott Iowa, I think about those who came before me.. They got cold. They ran out of gas. They had mechanical break downs but yet they continued on where others would have turned back.. Its 4degrees with a windchill of -15. Roads are covered with snow and ice. but I know that in 4days I'll be amoungst my friends at The Boot Hill Saloon and Museum. Telling stories of the road. The people I encountered, the trials and tribulations that I endured.. I set out on this journey for several reasons. With The Boot Hill saloon, We wanted to celebrate the Riders.. It is that adventurous spirit that is the foundation of our lifestyle. And we wanted to raise awareness and funds for www.veteranssupportfund.org . A non- profit organization that I have been blessed to work with.. They do good things.. Please take a moment to look them up online and you will know what I mean...<br />
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years ago I was having a conversation with the owner and editor of a national motorcycle magazine. He said, "We are the keepers of this lifestyle's Legacy". I believe that to be true.. This ride isn't about me.. Only a handful of people had any interest in who I am.. But there have been many who have taken notice of what I'm doing.. And to me, that's the way it should be..<br />
some folks get it... Some folks won't.. I'm ok with that...<br />
until next time<br />
peace&Grease.I AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4687515719867720836.post-37985502233584157562014-03-01T05:59:00.001-08:002014-03-01T05:59:59.494-08:00Day 5 - Woke up to 3" of snow but have to roll. Plenty of places to be and people to help. All 48 states is not going to be possible with these setbacks, so I will have to alter my route. Repairs were done and let the battery charge over night, so even though it's going to be cold, I'm hoping for a smooth ride. I hit Nebraska and was welcomed with a balmy 8 degrees.<br />
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Day 6 - I got the chance to stop at the Hillside Pub for a Got Wood moment and a chance to warm the bones. At least at this stop I had a sunggle buddy to help keep me warm. In the morning I'm off to Milwaukee.<br />
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Day 7 - I had to stop in West Branch, IA to change a sprocket but was able to get back on the road fairly quickly in comparison to the past few days. It's definitely been a very cold ride. The heated gear helps, but in these temps you just won't combat it completely. Once I reached Iowa it started to warm up a degree or two, but it looks like I may be heading for some more fresh snow. The Milwaukee fundraiser tomorrow will be a much welcome break.<br />
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Day 8 - Milwaukee, WI - 959 miles - Fundraiser in Denver for <a href="http://www.veteranssupportfund.org/">www.veteranssupportfund.org</a><br />
Day 10 - Albany, NY - 906 miles<br />
Day 11 - Baltimore, MD - 659miles<br />
Day 12 - Sylva, NC - 697miles<br />
Day 13 - Off<br />
Day 14 - The Boot Hill Saloon, Daytona, FL - 569miles<br />
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Keep sharing the charity ride info and be sure to support the cause at <a href="http://www.veteranssupportfund.org/">www.veteranssupportfund.org</a><br />
<br />
Peace&Grease<br />
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<u>DONE FOR:</u><br />
Day 1 - Monroe Louisiana - 800 miles<br />
Day 2 - Dalhart, TX - 960 miles<br />
Day 3 - Denver, CO - 345 miles - Fundraiser in Denver for www.veteranssupportfund.org<br />
Day 4 - Cave Creek, AZ - 806 miles - Fundraiser in Denver for www.veteranssupportfund.org<br />
Day 5 - McDermitt, OR - 937 miles<br />
Day 6 - Red Lodge, MT - 997 miles - Possible fundraiser in Denver for www.veteranssupportfund.org<br />
Day 7 - Newell, SD with a side trip to ND - 545 milesI AM DON WOODhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16390809229858869335noreply@blogger.com0