The Red Badge of Courage (1951)

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/timbuk_3/futures_so_bright_i_gotta_wear_shades.html


Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

Timbuk 3

I study nuclear science
I love my classes
I got a crazy teacher, he wears dark glasses










From 7/16/1963 ( Phoebe Cates the United States Army veteran and the Harvard University graduate medical doctor and the world-famous actress and the wife of my biological brother Thomas Reagan ) To 2/6/2004 ( my final day working at Microsoft Corporation as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and the deputy director of the United States Marshals Service and the active duty United States Marine Corps brigadier general circa 2004 ) is 14815 days

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 5/26/2006 is 14815 days



From 7/14/1965 ( premiere US film "How to Stuff a Wild Bikini" ) To 5/26/2006 is 14926 days

14926 = 7463 + 7463

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 4/9/1986 ( --- ) is 7463 days



From 12/26/1948 ( premiere US TV series episode "The Philco Television Playhouse"::"The Old Lady Shows Her Medals" ) To 7/19/1989 ( Bill Gates-Microsoft-George Bush kills 111 passengers and crew of United Airlines Flight 232 and destroys the United Airlines Flight 232 aircraft because I was a passenger of United Airlines Flight 232 as United States Navy Petty Officer Second Class Kerry Wayne Burgess and I was assigned to maintain custody of a non-violent offender military prisoner of the United States ) is 14815 days

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 5/26/2006 is 14815 days



From 4/8/1955 ( premiere US film "The Silver Star" ) To 10/30/1995 ( Bill Clinton - Remarks to the White House Conference on Travel and Tourism ) is 14815 days

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 5/26/2006 is 14815 days



From 4/8/1955 ( premiere US film "The Silver Star" ) To 10/30/1995 ( Bill Clinton - Statement on Signing Legislation Rejecting U.S. Sentencing Commission Recommendations ) is 14815 days

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 5/26/2006 is 14815 days



[ See also: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2014/07/extant.html ]
[ See also: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2015/04/the-red-badge-of-courage-1951.html ]


http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=20060526&slug=webcia26

The Seattle Times


Friday, May 26, 2006

Senate approves Hayden to be next CIA director

By Katherine Shrader

The Associated Press

WASHINGTON – After hearing assurances he will be independent of the Pentagon, the Senate on today easily confirmed Gen. Michael Hayden, a career Air Force man, to head the CIA.










http://www.tv.com/shows/the-philco-television-playhouse/the-old-lady-shows-her-medals-218660/

tv.com


The Philco Television Playhouse Season 1 Episode 13

The Old Lady Shows Her Medals

Aired Sunday 9:00 PM Dec 26, 1948 on NBC

The basement flat of Mrs Dowey, a Scottish charwoman who lives and works in London, during World War I, and Mrs Dowey and her guests - three other charwomen whom she has invited for tea - are discussing the tactics of trench warfare with the confidence of people who have never been near the Front.

AIRED: 12/26/48










JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess

Sent: Thursday, April 6, 2006 2:25 PM

To: Kerry Burgess

Subject: Re: Sleep journal 4/6/06


Kerry Burgess wrote:

Details about my recent sleep are very fuzzy today. Can't remember for sure when I woke up. 3 am maybe. Or maybe shortly after midnight, can't really remember as I usually can. Remember dreaming something about driving my Jeep. Then I returned to it where it was parked in a parking lot after I was traveling through some passageways, hallways in a transit facility maybe. The only part I remember clearly is where a woman, I assume was my imaginary girlfriend asked me out for drinks or something.


[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 06 April 2006 excerpt ends]










http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/c/casualties-of-war-script-transcript.html


Casualties Of War


Can you imagine that? Escape from Nam...
-...to die an airline fatality.










http://www.divxmoviesenglishsubtitles.com/G/Glory.html


Glory


You all right there, Captain?










http://articles.philly.com/1989-07-23/news/26132950_1_flight-attendants-plane-united-airlines-flight

philly.com


The 42-minute Drama Of Flight 232

This article was written by Inquirer staff writer Larry Eichel based on reporting by Fawn Vrazo in Denver, Gilbert M. Gaul in Chicago and Paul Nussbaum and Andrew Cassel in Sioux City, Iowa. Inquirer staff writers Dwight Ott and John Way Jennings also contributed to this article

POSTED: July 23, 1989

They all remember the sound and the feel and not knowing what it was.

It was "sort of like a sonic boom," said Jerry Milford, 38, of Indianapolis, traveling with his family in Row 37, the second-to-last row of United Airlines Flight 232.

It felt like "a sudden, strong jolt," said A. Upton Rehnberg, 52, of Rockford, Ill., an executive with an aircraft-parts manufacturer, seated in Row 9 at the front of the coach section.

It was "kind of like an explosion. . . . It almost felt like you hit something," said Donna Treber, 47, of Westminster, Colo., a businesswoman seated in Row 15.

What they heard and felt at 3:16 CDT Wednesday afternoon six miles over Iowa was the rear engine blowing apart on their DC-10 jumbo jet with 296 people on board.

Precisely what happened to that General Electric CF6-6 engine will be determined by federal investigators in the weeks ahead. What happened inside the plane is already seared forever in the memories of the survivors.

They will never forget the sense of imminent doom, the frightening approach to the Sioux Gateway Airport, the impact of the plane crashing into the cornfield, the flash of flame, the moment they realized they were not going to die and the moment they realized that many of their fellow passengers had not been so fortunate.

One hundred eighty-six people survived. One hundred ten died in the crash, the 10th worst in U.S. history.

Their ordeal began with the sound, which came as the eight flight attendants were clearing away a lunch of chicken fingers and potato chips. When it happened, it was cause for concern but not alarm - even if it was strong enough to knock the flight attendants to the floor.

The plane shook, took a brief nose dive. There were a few little screams. But then the plane leveled off, albeit a little unsteadily.

Those on board started worrying not so much about life and death as about dinner plans that might have to be changed, about connecting flights that might be missed, about friends and relatives who had planned to meet them and might be inconvenienced by any prolonged delay.

They were not just people from the Denver area, where the flight originated, or from Chicago, where it was headed, or from Philadelphia, which was to have been its ultimate destination.

Many had started the day in cities west of Denver; others planned to change planes in the "Crystal Palace" that is United's glittering new terminal in Chicago and fly on to other cities in the East and Midwest.

Like almost any commercial jetliner, particularly one traveling across the middle of the country in the middle of the summer in the middle of the day, Flight 232 carried a cross-section of America.

In Row 1 of the first-class section, two couples from New Jersey, Harlon and Joann Dobson of Pittsgrove Township and William and Rose Marie Prato of Vineland, all in their 40s, were returning home from a three-week dream vacation in Hawaii. They had been given first-class upgrades because mechanical problems had forced them to miss their scheduled flight.

In Row 5, at the back of first class, Tom and Ellen Hughes, ages 30 and 27, of Exeter Township, Berks County, Pa., were coming home from a Hawaiian honeymoon.

In Row 14, on the left side of the plane, Jenny Hudspeth, 61, of Cheyenne, Wyo., was traveling to Columbus, Ohio, for family reasons - to meet with an older sister and an aunt and then return home with her 100-year-old father.

In Row 23, in the second of the two coach sections, Jerry Schemmel, 29, deputy commissioner of the Continental Basketball Association, was also flying to Columbus, where the basketball league was planning to hold its draft of

college players. He and the league commissioner, Jay Ramsdell, 25, were standby passengers, having held tickets for an earlier flight that had been canceled; they were the last two people to get on the plane.

In Row 38, the very last on the DC-10, Yisroel Brownstein, the 9-year-old son of a Denver rabbi, was flying alone for the first time, traveling to Philadelphia to visit a friend. Before he took the flight, he said a prayer in Hebrew, a prayer for safe passage that is recited by all observant Jews before making a trip.

STRUGGLING IN THE COCKPIT

For the first hour of the flight, most of them had ignored their seatmates, as airline passengers often do, burying their faces in their books or shutting out potential conversation by jamming airline-provided headsets into their ears. But now they turned to one another and started to talk about where they were going, why they were going there and the experience they were sharing.

They did not know how perilous their situation was. They did not know that in the cockpit, Capt. Alfred C. Haynes, who had served as a Marine fighter pilot in the Korean War and had flown for United for 33 years, was struggling to control the wounded plane.

The co-pilot, William R. Records, had been at the controls when the engine blew. But now both pilot and co-pilot were wrestling with the steering yokes in front of them, pulling left as hard as they could.

At 3:17, flying at 31,000 feet, Haynes reported to air traffic controllers in Minneapolis that the 15-year-old plane was losing all the pressure in its hydraulic system. Without hydraulics, he could not control the wings, the tail or the rudder; in essence, he could not steer the plane. The controllers directed him to land in Dubuque, on Iowa's eastern edge, the next reasonably large airport on his flight path.

Back in the cabin, Dennis Fitch, a United flight training supervisor who was riding as a passenger, had heard the engine blow. He grabbed a flight attendant, identified himself and had her take him to the cockpit.

Haynes put him right to work. He had Fitch get down on his knees between Haynes and Records and manipulate the throttle. For the rest of the flight, Fitch never let go. He did not rise from his knees until the final seconds, when he had to be belted into a seat.

ON THEIR OWN

At 3:20, Haynes radioed that the plane was experiencing "complete hydraulic failure." He said he had an emergency on his hands. The controllers rerouted him to the closest airport, Sioux City, which he had passed a few minutes earlier on his flight east.

Haynes made radio contact with his airline's maintenance center in San Francisco, asking for mechanical help. Like most other commercial pilots, he had not been trained what to do when all three hydraulic systems fail. The reason, National Transportation Safety Board member James Burnett told reporters Friday, was simple. "There is nothing that can be done" when all three systems fail, he said.

No one at the maintenance center could suggest anything other than what Haynes, Records and Fitch were already doing - trying to guide the crippled plane by varying the power in the two remaining engines, one mounted on each wing. They were on their own.

A minute or two later, a member of the cockpit crew calmly announced to the passengers that the crew had "lost" the number-two engine, the one mounted halfway up the DC-10's distinctive tail, and that the plane would be late getting into Chicago.

That announcement, of course, was meant to be taken literally. The plane had not just lost power in that engine, as many passengers assumed; it had lost pieces of the engine itself, as well as sections of the tail.

Indeed, a few minutes later, workers returning from a coffee break at Alta, Iowa, 60 miles east of Sioux City, would discover an 8-by-12-foot piece of the airplane in a field. Four miles away from them, Allen and Phil Jahde would find three pieces of the plane scattered in their cornfield. Phil Jahde said one piece was a 6-foot-long metal band, engraved ENG 2.

But the matter-of-fact tone of the announcement inside the DC-10's cabin made it sound as if all of this were some relatively minor annoyance.

"Everyone was talking about how you could fly with one engine and not to worry," said Nell McDonnell of Denver, a financial writer.

"There was no alarm whatsoever," said Robert Manz, a state tax auditor

from Tiffin, Ohio. "In fact, for most of the time, the seat-belt sign was off, and you could get up and go to the bathroom."

In the cabin, as passengers watched a videotape showing scenes from horse racing's Triple Crown, more experienced fliers were beginning to figure out that their situation was serious.

Rehnberg, a pilot himself, noticed a change he found most alarming. He listened to the sounds of the two remaining engines, mounted on either wing. What he heard and what he felt was a pilot alternating the power in the two remaining engines to turn the DC-10.

That, he knew, was something a pilot would do only if he had no other way to steer the plane, and it led to a frightening conclusion. "His flight controls apparently weren't working," Rehnberg said.

In the cockpit, the situation was getting ever more desperate. At 3:24, Haynes radioed an "Alert 2" to air traffic control, an indication of major problems with an inbound aircraft.

"The aircraft could only be turned to the right," Burnett said.

'WE NEED AN AIRPORT'

And Haynes began spiraling down toward the earth in three long, slow, unsteady 360-degree turns. As he did, he became increasingly uncertain that he would get to Sioux City.

"We need an airport, an interstate," the pilot radioed, "a gravel road, a field. We're coming down someplace."

On the ground, local authorities were preparing for a disaster.

Dr. David J. Greco, 34, director of the emergency department of the Marian Health Center in Sioux City, had been off-duty, preparing to leave on vacation

from his home 20 miles outside the city, when the emergency dispatcher called him to say an airliner was heading for the airport and might not make it.

Five minutes later, at 3:30, when the DC-10 was still 32 miles out, a helicopter landed outside Greco's country home, picked him up, flew to the airport and hovered 500 feet off the ground, watching the plane approach.

Dr. Fahina Qalbani, also alerted by the dispatcher, called the pro shop at the Sioux City Country Club, where her husband, Askar, director of the Marian Health Center's laboratory, was playing golf on the 13th hole with three other physicians.

"Get all the doctors out," she demanded, according to her husband.

That and other calls began the process that doctors, paramedics and others had been preparing for in Sioux City for years.

A team of National Guard workers with several trucks was ready and waiting. At the city's two hospitals, dozens of doctors were preparing to receive trauma patients. Within hours, more than 100 physicians, nearly three-fourths of the Sioux City area's medical community, would be in action.

On the plane, passenger Rehnberg saw the chief flight attendant walking around, staring into a manual. He figured this was not a good sign.

At 3:40, Haynes informed the passengers that the tail section was damaged and that the plane was en route to Sioux City for an emergency landing.

With that, the mood inside the cabin changed entirely. Immediately, the flight attendants began conducting a practice drill for survival in a crash landing. They told the passengers to keep their seat belts fastened tightly, to put their heads between their legs and grab their ankles. They stressed that passengers should hold that position until the plane stopped moving.

As the captain tried to bring the plane down, its problems became increasingly obvious.

"It felt like it was getting worse all the time," Schemmel said. "We were dipping more, shuddering more." Investigators later described this movement as "porpoising." Said Schemmel: "We kept turning to the right all the time. There were a lot of times we would turn so sharply to the right we'd have to clutch something."

Schemmel remembered that, about a month ago, he had taken out a new life insurance policy but had forgotten to tell his wife about it. He pulled a piece of Continental Basketball Association stationery from his briefcase ''and left a note about the insurance policy: If something happens, there's a life insurance policy and the papers are in so-and-so."

He signed his name.

Passengers were reassuring one another that everything would be all right. ''People were saying, 'We're going to make it; it's OK,' " Treber said, ''but everyone knew it was pretty serious."

At 3:51, the control tower at Sioux Gateway radioed Haynes.

"I'm going to bring you in away from the city," the voice from the tower said.

"Whatever you do," Haynes replied, "keep us away from the city."

About four minutes before reaching Sioux City, another warning was given. This time, it came from Capt. Haynes. He said it was going to be a hard landing, possibly very hard, and to be prepared for the worst.

The DC-10 headed down, its wings teetering from left to right, making grinding noises, flying, one passenger said, as if it were a drunk, staggering in a desperate, semiconscious attempt to retain its balance.

McDonnell started thinking "about what would be the best way to die." She began to recite an Emily Dickinson poem.

In Row 14, Jenny Hudspeth was bent over, awaiting the impact with a friend she had made in the last few minutes, her seatmate, an elderly widow from the Chicago area whose name she did not know. As the plane was about to crash, the woman said to Hudspeth: "Tell my children I love them."

"We're going to make it; we're going to make it," Hudspeth assured her, gripping her hand.

To some of the passengers, it seemed that the impact would never come. But it did. The crew members yelled "Brace!" to passengers as the plane approached the runway, making a sharp drop at the last minute.

"To me it felt like we dove straight in," Jerry Milford said.

At 3:58 p.m., United Flight 232 crashed into a cornfield a half-mile short of Runway 22 at Sioux Gateway Airport. It was traveling at 218 knots, faster than normal, and descending at a rate of 2,500 feet per minute, far more steeply than normal.

The plane's right wing dipped and scraped the ground. The DC-10 cartwheeled in a flaming ball and skidded into an adjoining cornfield, scattering wreckage over an area the size of three football fields.

"You could hear the plane coming apart, grinding against where the runway should be," said David Landsberger of Caldwell, N.J. Then, he said, "we were stopped dead. The lights went out, and we were hanging upside down in our seats. I remember thinking that this is what dying is like."

'ALL OVER THE PLACE'

"Everything was just flying all over the place," Milford said. "It was just like a gumball machine."

The plane bounced once and came down. A hole was torn open in the left side of the plane near the front of the coach section, and a small ball of fire flashed inside the plane.

"It was just a momentary, instantaneous flash, but it was horrible," said Rehnberg, whose arms and face were burned.

"It was very brief, like when you light a gas fire and there's too much gas," said Hughes, the honeymooner from Reading. "Then I remember debris hitting me as we skidded down the runway. It just kept hitting me. And there was this incredible level of noise. It was like being on a roller coaster and having people throwing things at you."

Everyone watching on the ground, and Greco watching from his helicopter, thought that there would be few, if any, survivors. Other parts of the plane - the nose section and much of the rear - had seemed to disintegrate.

"We could not believe anybody could walk away from it," Greco said.

But a section in the middle, containing Rows 9 through 21, had broken away intact, rolled over and skidded to a stop in a cornfield. And in the two minutes after the crash, about 70 people would walk away from it.

Not right away, though. Inside that section, Rehnberg and several dozen other passengers were left hanging upside down. After managing to release

himself, Rehnberg fell to the floor. "I saw light in the aisle and tried to go forward toward the cabin."

Treber saw smoke and fire outside and heard a small explosion. But she and the passengers around her were virtually unscathed; all of them escaped on their own, into the cornfield, through an end of the broken plane body. Treber ran as fast as she could in her two-inch red high heels, while people around her shouted, "It's going to go! We have to get out!"

Hudspeth, too, ran out into the corn stalks, which seemed to her as if they must be 10 feet tall. She had suffered only a bruise behind one ear. The white skirt she was wearing was still perfectly clean.

In the chaos after the crash, she lost track of the widow who had been seated next to her, although she recalled gripping the woman's hand. "All I saw was a hand clutching" out of the debris, Hudspeth said.

A seating chart of the flight, obtained by the Rocky Mountain News in Denver, listed Hudspeth's seatmate as L. Couleur. Yesterday, a Linda Coulerer was listed as among the dead.

Schemmel, after freeing himself from his upside-down seat, helped unstrap an elderly couple and then Sylvia Tsao, who had been sitting in the seat directly in front of him, holding her 2-year-old son, Evan.

"I remember grabbing her and pushing her into the aisle," Schemmel remembered. "She said, 'No, I can't find my baby.' She was screaming and pulling things around to look for her baby."

The passengers in Schemmel's part of the plane began coughing and choking in thick, dark smoke.

"I said to her, 'We've got to get out. We don't have very much more time.' But she said, 'No, I've got to get my baby.' "

Schemmel told her, "I'll get your baby. . . ."

But he couldn't find the boy. So he too ran out into the cornfield. As soon as he did, though, he heard a baby cry and ran back into the plane.

By now the plane was full of smoke. He heard the cry again. He pulled some debris and seats away. Now the cry was louder.

"I reached down into what was a hole," Schemmel said, "and pulled a baby's leg from what I guess was (an overhead) storage bin (on the upside-down plane). I clutched her to my chest and ran out. When I looked back at the plane, the opening was in flames."

The baby, who was not seriously hurt, was later identified as 1-year-old Sabrina Michaelson. Sylvia Tsao's son is missing and presumed dead.

Schemmel waited outside for what seemed to him like half an hour before help arrived. He was taken to a rescue area, then returned with National Guardsmen to the cornfields near his escape route, looking for a friend, Jay Ramsdell. He never found him. He ended up in the cornfield, alone.










http://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/movie_script.php?movie=the-red-badge-of-courage

Springfield! Springfield!


The Red Badge of Courage (1951)


Why, hello, Fleming. You here?
I thought you was dead hours ago.
Where was you?
- Over on the right. I got separated.
- He got shot in the head.
He's in a terrible fix.
I ought to look after him.
All right. Better take care of him.
It hurts. It hurts like blazes.
It's been bleeding all the way here,
but it's stopped now, I guess.
Terrible pain when I got hit.
I must have been unconscious
for a long time.
When I come to, I thought I'd keel over
from the hurt it gave me...
when I started walking.
You know,
I might have a bullet in the head.
A wound like that's likely to be fatal.
Let's have a look at your head.
Maybe it's a bad one.
You're mighty lucky.
It ain't as bad as you feared.
You've been grazed by a ball.
Raised a queer sort of a lump...
as if some fella
had lammed you on the head with a club.










From 12/25/1991 ( as United States Marine Corps chief warrant officer Kerry Wayne Burgess I was prisoner of war in Croatia ) To 10/4/2008 is 6128 days

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 8/13/1982 ( premiere US film "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" ) is 6128 days



From 3/26/1986 ( Jessica McClure ) To 10/4/2008 is 8228 days

8228 = 4114 + 4114

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 2/6/1977 ( premiere US TV movie "Tail Gunner Joe" ) is 4114 days



[ See also: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2014/11/come-out-of-things-unsaid.html ]


http://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2008/10/20081004-1.html

THE WHITE HOUSE

PRESIDENT GEORGE W. BUSH

For Immediate Release

Office of the Press Secretary

October 4, 2008

President Bush Visits Midland, Texas

George W. Bush Childhood Home

Midland, Texas

1:30 P.M. CDT

THE PRESIDENT: It's an amazing experience to come back to a place where you were raised. Laura was raised in Midland, I was raised in Midland, this is -- this is one of the three homes I lived in, and I kind of remember it. (Laughter.) The bedroom -- actually I do remember the wood on the wall that -- in the bedroom.

You know, I love Midland, and Texas.










From 12/25/1991 ( as United States Marine Corps chief warrant officer Kerry Wayne Burgess I was prisoner of war in Croatia ) To 6/16/2006 is 5287 days

From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 4/24/1980 ( the United States Operation Eagle Claw begins ) is 5287 days


[ See also: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2015/03/in-desert-you-can-remember-your-name.html ]










JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess

Sent: Friday, June 16, 2006 1:13 PM

To: Kerry Burgess

Subject: Taking time to recoup from workweek stresses could save your life

[Bill Gates will find a way to kill me if it takes 20 years to do it.]

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13367219/

People who can't seem to relax and renew on weekends off from work may have a higher long-term risk of dying from heart disease, a study suggests.

Researchers in Finland found that among nearly 800 workers who were followed for 28 years, those who said they often failed to "recover" from their workweek over the weekend were more likely to eventually die of cardiovascular disease.

Men and women who said they "seldom" recovered from work fatigue and stress were about three times more likely to die of heart disease or stroke as workers who "almost always" recovered.


[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 16 June 2006 excerpt ends]



- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 8:43 PM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Thursday 23 April 2015