The latest outrage of the tЯump administration is an attack on charitable giving. That’s right, his hand-picked Director of the US Office of Personnel Management wants to end the Combined Federal Campaign. The CFC is the government’s way to enable military and civilian employees to give through payroll deductions. The reasoning for this action is questionable. If the CFC is cancelled, it will hurt hundreds of important local and national charities. Since this may be my last opportunity to give through CFC, I made sure some “Woke” charities got some of my money. These include a women’s health organization and an immigrant rights group. In addition, I have written the following to my Senators and Representative to express my concerns.
Letters to Senator Kelly, Senator Gallego, and Congressman Ciscomani:
Sierra Vista, AZ 85635
October 6, 2025
Dear Sir:
The Combined Federal Campaign is in danger of being terminated by USOPM Director Scott Kupor. As you surely know, the CFC is the primary means for federal civilian and military personnel to donate to worthwhile charities. Since its inception by President Kennedy in 1962, it has raised well over one billion dollars. It is an efficient and effective way for government personnel to give to reputable and carefully vetted local and national charities through payroll deductions.
Director Kupor is now threatening to end this vital and worthwhile program after the current campaign. In proposing this, he cites some highly questionable cost factors associated with the campaign. His numbers are ridiculous. This is a simple and efficient payroll deduction program. As a retiree, I just made my 2026 pledges online. My input required virtually no effort by any paid federal employee. You can be assured of this because I did it during the Government Shutdown. While I was an active employee, most of the effort directed toward conducting the CFC was done as a collateral duty. Again, I ought to know. As a federal employee, I participated in running the campaign. While doing so, I made sure that none of my official duties were neglected.
Below you will find a link to Director Kupor’s preposterous reasons for wanting to cancel the CFC in the future, published under the heading of “Secrets of OPM”. In it Kupor states that, “….OPM is concerned about excessive administrative costs associated with the CFC, along with steadily declining participation, and it is evaluating changes to the CFC for 2026 (including whether to continue the program).”
I would hope that you understand the value of the Combined Federal Campaign and do your part in preserving it.
Magda Goebbels was the wife of Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels. She was portrayed as the ideal Aryan wife and mother. Before the War, she gave an interview with a German magazine where she shared her recipe for streusel. On May 1, 1945, she poisoned their children “for the sake of giving our national socialistic lives the only possible honourable end …”
Captain William Monks was from West Plains, Missouri, where my Great-Great-Grandfather fought a battle in February 1862. A Union man, Monks and his family suffered greatly at the hands of Rebel bushwhackers and irregular troops. Escaping certain death in captivity, he joined the Union Army, spending the rest of the war fighting those who had driven him from his home and executed many of his neighbors. After the war, he became an assistant prosecutor. He brought his fellow Union survivors and his defeated Confederate neighbors together to rebuild Howell County, which had been devastated and depopulated by the War.
“God forbid that we ever have any more civil war. War is the enemy of good society, degrades the morals of the people, causes rapine and murder, destroys thousands of lives, brings misery and trouble upon the whole people, creates a government debt that our children will not see paid, makes friends enemies. God forbid that any more sectional strife ever may grow up among the people; may there be no North, no South, no East, no West, but let it be a government of the whole people, for the people and by the people. May the time speedily come when the civilized nations of the earth will know war no more; when the civilized nations meet in an international congress, pass an international law that all differences between nations shall be settled by arbitration. May this nation in truth and in deed become a Christian nation and every man speak the truth to his neighbor and adopt the Golden Rule, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
— William Monks
After the War, Monks sued two of his neighbors who were part of the Rebel unit that captured him. They had verbally abused and promised to kill him. He won an $8,000 judgment, which allowed him to seize their property. They begged forgiveness, one of them explaining his actions as a ruse to keep the other Rebels from killing him. Monks forgave them and deeded their property back to their wives.
Monks had two daughters. Both married sons of Confederate soldiers.
Sometimes, that disagreement would lead to a great compromise that moved us forward to solve the problems of the day. The US Constitution was such a compromise. To gain agreement, one really horrible thing called the 3/5ths Compromise was added. slave states got 3/5ths credit in apportioning seats in the US House of Representatives for each slave they owned. Who among us would sign on to that today?
A better compromise was the Bill of Rights, the first 10 Amendments. States wanted these assurances before they would ratify the Constitution.
My favorite right enumerated in the Bill of Rights is the First Amendment. It gives me the right to voice my opinion without fear of retribution. It also gives you the right to tell me when I’m wrong.
I lived through an era of political assassinations. JFK, MLK, Medgar Evers, and James Meridith, to name a few. Each one broke my heart, but I was curiously unmoved when Governor George Wallace was seriously wounded in 1968. Why? I saw him as a racist who was running to overturn the hard-won progress in Civil Rights. Though I still don’t like him, it was awful that someone shot him.
We moved forward as a nation from these terrible events in the 1960s..
We came together to stand up for what is right. We got rid of a Vice-President who turned out to be a crook. Then we conducted a thorough bipartisan investigation of a President who had exceeded his authority and lied about it. We argued about big vs small government and found ways to keep the economy running while taking care of the least of us. Presidents from both parties provided us with good leadership and inspiration.
When 911 hit us like an atomic bomb, we quickly pulled together in a show of unity not seen since WWII.
Then, we let ourselves get polarized. We formed tribes, each accusing the other of being extreme. Some of the accusations were more true than others. We stopped short of demonizing each other for a while and the country continued to function for all.
In 2026 America fell apart. Those who wanted to blame all their problems on others found their champion. The country immediately became catastrophically divided. Too many of us learned to hate those who are different. The way we handled Race, ethnicity, national origin, and diversity had once made America a shining light. Suddenly, we were bitching about which bathroom to use. Hateful rhetoric was normalized because one man in a position of power used it. Fortunately, our guardrails held as he became increasingly despotic and self-serving.
The end of American democracy came on January 6, 2021. You might have seen it on TV. “Stop the vote!” “Hang Mike Pence!”
Those of us who foolishly thought democracy had survived that day were mistaken. A partisan Senate refused to hold the instigator to account. Four years later, the fools who followed his direction were pardoned.
Let me return to Charlie Kirk. He was a polarizing figure who seems to have angered some folks. He was even a target of criticism by such right-wing figures as Laura Loomer and Nick Fuentes. He was not killed by an immigrant, a Muslim, a Transvestite, or a liberal. Lower your flag if you wish. He deserves to be mourned. Let us not make his unfortunate death at the hands of someone who appeared to look a lot like him further divide us.
We have now arrived at the point where we have one party rule with a Unitary Executive. He is accountable to no one but his narcissistic self. There are no checks and balances. Those who love freedom and democracy are doomed.
The angst has generated a new wave of political violence. We should deplore all of it, not just when it happens to our champion. I fear our Unitary Executive will use these events to solidify his power. Hitler got the Enabling Act after the Reichstag fire. Don’t be surprised if elections are cancelled or the results overturned. This leader loves to declare a crisis so he can rule by Executive Decree. The court has put him above the law. He faces no consequences for destroying our decency, democracy or the Rule of Law.
Buckle up. We appear to be screwed. Hopefully, the next voice that is silenced won’t be yours.
On a personal note, my retina appears to be detaching, so this post may be my last for a while.
Godspeed America.
I hope to see you on the other side, but probably won’t live long enough to see a resolution to this nightmare.
‘m having a minor procedure to remove the silicone oil from my right eye on September the 4th. The oil has been in there since 2018. Though it has done a great job of keeping my retina attached, it is causing other problems, such as retina swelling and eye irritation. Recently, it has emulsified, making my vision cloudy.
I expect to see better after the oil is removed. It will be replaced with a gas. I won’t be able to see anything with that eye for a week or so while the natural fluid displaces the gas. (I will be able to navigate the apartment with the limited vision I have in my left eye.) With the oil out, I will be at increased risk for another retina detachment. If that happens, the oil goes back in.
I will be out of touch for a while as the natural eye fluid is replenished. I’ll ask Karen to keep you posted if there are any significant developments.
Sorry I haven’t written. We have been on the march through hostile territory since April. We arrived at Helena, Ark on the 11th. We can now receive and send mail by steamboat, since Helena is on the Mississippi.
Tell Ma and Pa that Willis is hale and hearty. He is itching to put some more Rebs out of the War. John and Will are also doing fine. There isn’t much that can stop a DeLay. I wish I could say the same for Captain Taylor. He is very sick with the typhoid fever. He’ll be sent north on the next steamer. Bussey left the regiment to become a brigadier. Major Drake has taken his place as our commander.
I sure do miss you and the little ones. Can you get a picture taken of the baby? Perhaps you could hold him to get a good exposure. I’m eager to meet him for the first time. When that might happen, I cannot say.
I am sending you $3 I won at Poker. It is all I have until the Paymaster catches up with us. I know you will put it to good use. I have four months pay due. That is over $50. I need to spend some with the Quartermaster for a new pair of trousers. The Sutler, who has been traveling with us, will get his pound of flesh from each of us for the overpriced goods he sold us on the march. I should have about $40, left to send home by express. I trust you are making good use of all the money I am able to send. I hope you can pay some toward our planting expenses and use some for clothes and nice things for you and the kids. I hear that the New York troops are getting allotments deducted from their pay to send home to their families. I will sign up for one as soon as it becomes available to us.
It is good that you sew. Socks are in great demand here. Mine have been holding up well, but the Infantry can use all they can get. They will gladly trade coffee and sugar for them.
Could you please tell me how the crops are doing? Are you getting enough help from the neighbors? If all goes well with the harvest, you should be able to get a hired hand, assuming all the useful men are not already in the Army.
I don’t know how much news is getting back to you, but the 3d Iowa has been doing the country proud. We rejoined Col Bussey’s command at Forsyth, Mo in early April. We are now part of Sam Curtis’s Army of Southwest Missouri which fought so valiantly at Pea Ridge. His Army left Springfield in late March and picked up our 2 detached companies along the way. You may remember General Curtis as our district’s representative in the US Congress. He was a good congressman and is an even better general. After joining Curtis, we marched back into Arkansas, going through West Plains, where Willis lost his horse back in February.
At first, we were headed for Little Rock, but that would have stretched our supply lines too far. Instead, we turned toward Batesville following the White River east. The 3d led the Army for much of the way.
Major Drake, who was our commander at Salem, had a big dust up with the Rebs at Kickapoo Bottoms, near Sylamore, Ark. He took 25 prisoners, suffering 1 dead and 2 wounded. He also came back with 25 Negroes, who had been hidden in the Boston Mountains by Union men. Unfortunately, the Rebs caught and abused the Union men badly. Three of them who refused to join the Rebel Army were hanged.
As the Army approached Batesville, Ark, we expected to find our old adversary, Col Coleman. We were determined to surround him with an overwhelming force. We arrived at Batesville on the 3dt of May, only to be greeted by a handful of Rebs who soon fled across the river. We captured some much-needed stores of sugar and rice. Coleman was holed up on the other side of the river, but we couldn’t get across. He tried to shoot at us from his side, but the range was too far. The whole town turned out when we brought up our howitzers to return the fire. A couple of well-aimed rounds drove them off. Four Rebs were seen to fall to the fire. The locals later said that one of them was a Lt Col.
We stayed at Batesville a while trying to get resupplied by steamer. Alas, that was not to be. We resorted to foraging to feed ourselves and our animals. Then we marched east toward Helena.
Though General Van Dorn took his Army and left Arkansas, there are still plenty of small bands of Rebs that harassed us on the march. As always, the cavalry leads the march, so we encountered these bushwhackers regularly. I Company ran into a roadblock of fallen timbers at a place called Bayou Cache. Twelve of us went into the woods to see if the Rebs were fixing to ambush us. We flushed out 18 Rebs, killing or wounding half of them. The rest escaped across the river. A funny thing happened there. As the firing commenced, I felt a big thump in my side. It was a hot fight, so I kept on firing. When things slowed down, I reached down to see how badly I was hit. I touched what felt like blood. Then I noticed my canteen, which was full of molasses, was gone. My bloody owie turned out to be molasses from a ball that had taken my canteen clear off. An inch closer, I would have come home on convalescent leave.
As we crossed Arkansas, we lived off the land. The Army split into separate columns, and we scavenged the countryside for anything we needed. What we didn’t take, we often burned to keep it from helping the Rebs. Because all the forage along our path was used up, we had to send a foraging party before us. I knew many of the men because the party was mostly drawn from Company K. On the way back, they got ambushed by a large force. They had a hot fight, with Lt Griswold and 2 troopers I knew well being killed. We were dispatched to save them, but the 9th Illinois beat us to the rescue.
The lower delta of the White River is cotton country. We had many runaway slaves follow us to Helena. Their masters won’t need them since we burned all the cotton fields we came across. Curtis is requisitioning food to feed them from the local citizenry. It bothers none of us that these secessionists are not happy about feeding their former slaves.
Helena is a pretty important place to occupy. It’s on a bluff overlooking the big river. It’s easy to defend and has a good port. We are getting boatloads of rations and ammunition and can send our sick and wounded upriver. The new leader of the Confederates in Arkansas is Gen Hindman. I’m not sure he’s happy that Gen Curtis is now headquartered in the Hindman Mansion here in Helena. Hindman is busy trying to organize the various outlaw Rebel bands of Ark into a real army. The Union men and runaways coming here are telling us that Hindman is abusing Arkansas’s citizens at least as much as we did. He’s taking everything he wants from them and offering potential recruits the choice of a rifle or a noose. Once we get fully resupplied, we’ll be going after him.
Speculation holds that Grant has his eye on Vicksburg as his next prize. With New Orleans now in Union hands, the Mississippi River could be ours again. That would surely help Iowa farmers.
Kiss my babies for me and tell them Daddy loves them.
P.S. The Adjutant says it’s OK to share the details in this letter, except for the part about Grant’s plans to take Vicksburg.
Centerville Iowa
July 28, 1862
My Dearest Husband,
Thank God, my brave and noble husband is safe! We worried so much while you were on the march. We had no word for nearly 3 months. I prayed constantly for your safety. A vigil at church went on for weeks. There was great rejoicing when the papers reported that the 3d Iowa had reached Helena. We were still worried that some of our soldiers might not have made it.
We are fine. The kids are growing like weeds. I spend most of my evenings making new clothes for them. Rosellen says she misses her Papa. I’m teaching her to cook and sew. The kids found a rattler under the porch, and I killed it with a shovel. Hopefully, you can dispatch the next one. My family is fine, as is yours. Uncle Jacob is still here, but looking for a posting as a regimental chaplain.
Your Pa and the neighbors are helping with crops. If conditions hold, it will be a good harvest this year. I hope to hire someone, perhaps an invalid from the Army, to help next year. I hear that freed slaves are arriving in Keokuk. They are supposed to be good workers. The farmers are saying, “Keep sending them our way.”
I’m afraid I have some bad news to report. Captain Taylor died on his way home. He is to be buried in Illinois, but we are having a memorial service here. Everyone is stunned by his loss.
I hope you are getting some news of the War now. While you were in the field. President Lincoln signed the Homestead Act. Think of it! We can now get a farm free and clear just for working it 5 years. Let’s do Nebraska next time. I really hated Kansas with all its troubles. I am so glad you missed that horrible battle at Shiloh. I can’t imagine how many families are grieving. Did you hear about the Union men who stole a locomotive in Georgia and almost made it to Tennessee while tearing up the tracks? They were caught and, I fear, executed. Don’t you go trying any such foolishness!
It is time to put the children to bed. You will be in our prayers as always.
The sound was deafening. It rattled the windows and shook the walls. It seemed to suck the air right out of the room as it moved off.
Instinctively. I dashed for the door. My boss chuckled.
“That was a sonic boom.”
The date was August 18, 1959, my 15th birthday. Though I loved airplanes and wanted to be a jet fighter pilot, breaking the sound barrier for the first time over my little town on that particular day was a dumb thing to do.
The night before I was awakened about midnight by my bunk bed shaking violently. It was dark and I was sleepy, so I shrugged it off. Maybe one of my brothers had come home on leave from the service and crawled into the top bunk.
When the alarm rang at 5:30 AM, I got up, dressed, and had a bowl of Shredded Wheat. Then I dashed off to my job at Markles Hardware Store. My first task was to sweep the floor and the front sidewalk. By the time I finished, the usual crowd of old-timers had gathered in the front of the store to discuss everything from wheat prices to the national debt. Those topics had been forgotten today.
“Turn on the TV! There was an earthquake last night.”
Earthquake? I wondered. Those only happen in California. I had visited there once and saw repairs in the roads from earthquake cracks. I’d seen earthquaukes in far-off places like Japan and Turkey on the Movietone Newsreels.. Those things never happened here, did they?
The TV hummed as electrons woke up the cathode ray tube. A wavy image of a newscaster appeared.
“The quake was centered about 15 miles north of West Yellowstone, Montana. Access to the area is blocked due to multiple landslides. The National Earthquake Reporting Center registered the shock as a 7.2 on the Richter Scale. That is roughly the same size as the Great San Francisco Earthquake of 1906. That would be a devastating number had it hit a populated area.”
Populated area? I thought. Do they think Montana doesn’t have any people? Hell, there are over 3 people per square mile in this state. And at this time of the year Yellowstone Park is full of tourists. I had been there and I knew.
“There are reports that a mountain has slid into the valley of the Madison River. The area is frequented by fishermen and campers.”
Excuse me? A mountain slid into a river? Preposterous! I went back to work. Business was slow, but people kept gathering in the front of the TV.
“I camped on the Madison last year, at Hebgen Lake,” someone said.
“Hebgen Lake? The radio just said it had waves over 20 feet tall when the quake hit. They are trying to get to the campgrounds, but the roads are all blocked.”
Then the TV announcer mentioned aftershocks, two big ones about 6.0. The weathered old men in the store began to look serious. Montana had floods and blizzards, never an earthquake. This one had been felt a thousand miles away. We were about 300 air miles from the epicenter and it had woken nearly everyone up.
I got home in time to catch the evening news. The bad news kept coming in. Pictures showed a shattered mountain sitting in the middle of a quiet valley where a campground had once been. This dammed the river and a lake was filling up fast. The road had fallen into it. Part of an overturned car was poking out from the debris.
Eyewitness reports started to trickle in. People were trapped. There was a frantic effort to reopen shattered roadways. A few lucky people had somehow left just before the quake hit. A deaf woman was reported to have felt the tremors early. Animals had gotten excited and tried to warn their owners. Boaters remembered that Hebgen Lake had been inexplicably choppy just before the quake hit. Other people said they had barely missed the quake because the campground was full, or someone got sick, or they had car trouble. Those who had found their ideal camping spot weren’t so lucky.
Survivors remembered a huge roar as the top of the mountain slid into the Madison. Material moved with such speed that it created its own wind. A woman barely escaped as her house slid into the water. A couple in their 70’s clung to a tree for over six hours before being rescued by a boat. One camper was a nurse who helped others. Her picture, black eye and all, made it into Life Magazine. Phone lines at the Red Cross and the Gallatin County Sheriff’s Office were jammed with people looking for missing loved ones. There was another aftershock.
Virtually everyone in Montana felt the quake. Kids remember being thrown out of bed. The closer they were, the greater the shaking. Walls cracked and chimneys fell in Bozeman. Houses shifted off their foundations. Three hundred new geysers erupted in Yellowstone Park. Almost overnight, Quake Lake on the Madison River filled up. Quake Lake is still there. Its current average depth of 47 feet over its 6-mile length would be higher had the Corps of Engineers not moved massive amounts of debris restoring the channel. It took 3 days to get all the survivors out. The records of the campground were buried, so no one knew how many people were lost. Authorities finally settled on a casualty count of 28 souls. Most of the bodies were never recovered.
By the end of the day, I felt older than my 15 years. The world was no longer the quiet, comfortable place that had nurtured me, and kept me safe. Unknown dangers lurked out there. Security is not a given.
Years later, I learned that the Yellowstone Quake was only a precursor of the next explosive geothermal event that could happen in Yellowstone. Indeed, the Yellowstone super volcano explodes every 600 to 800 thousand years. The last big blast dwarfed the Mount St Helens eruption many of us witnessed in 1980. It buried places 400 miles away with a dozen feet of ash. No one knows when it will blow again. The last blast was 640,000 years ago putting us well within the window for the next one. When it does blow, and it will, its impact will devastate much of the American West.
Should we be concerned? Maybe. There are still seventy and eighty-year-old Montanans who retain the trauma they felt as children on the night the mountain fell.
Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies 