Saturday, December 23, 2017

It's been 26 years...but is something about to happen?





The case is very cold, very cold indeed. The case that has
haunted the police, the district attorney, the forensics
people, everyone. Twenty six years ago last Christmas, six
year old JonBenet Ramsey was killed in her Colorado
home. Two years after the murder, the grand jury failed
to indict either of the parents....JonBenet's brother Burke
was dismissed as a suspect.

So many questions.. so many facts of the case that
just made for more questions. The death of her mother
Patsy Ramsey in 2006 put more doubt into the mix...
did she know more than she told investigators?

In 2008, a man named John Mark Carr came forward and
said he was the guilty party...it was later proven that he
was just a crazed fan who was totally obsessed with
the child...and he was dismissed.

The brother Burke told Dr. Phil in 2016 that he had no
knowledge of how his sister died.

Feb. 27th, '23
UPDATE: JonBenet's father John Ramsey is now in 
the process of pushing for new highly evolved DNA
testing to be used on the artifacts found at the crime 
scene. He and his attorneys are now pushing Boulder
Police and other agencies to take a new fresh look at
the evidence left at the home where the girl died. 

And so, twenty six years later, JonBenet has no justice.
Her killer, or killers remain free. Her headstone gathers
moss and ages while the case gets colder still.

I have every Christmas thought about this girl. She
would be in her mid to late twenties now, probably
finishing her education or starting a career and a
family.

I hope that before too long, perhaps in this year 2023
that the real killer can be identified and brought to 
justice. It's been a long long wait for the Ramsey
family. 

Do you have thoughts on this case? If so.. leave a
comment at the bottom of this story ..I'd love to
hear from you.  SS 

Friday, December 22, 2017

In the new year...




2018 will bring on new challenges and projects....the first
is to finish the new short story book, Tales Unleashed.
It will have 27 short stories of the 'unusual' kind, I think
you'll find them quite entertaining indeed...many of the
stories I have shared over the past two years on Facebook,
and now, it's time to put them into print as well as a Kindle
edition. The publisher will start working on it in the
next few weeks for me.  Then, it will be time to finish
the western novel, 1865, Tucson. I'm hoping by years
end but it is a massive project. More about that later on.

Here's hoping your 2018 will be healthy, wealthy and wise!

Stop back often.

Monday, December 18, 2017

Time to celebrate...





It is indeed time to celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus
Christ.  Have an old fashioned Christmas; enjoy the
food and closeness of your family, pray for those
overseas and light a candle for those who have
passed away this year.

Make today count. Visit a shut in. You will be
rewarded for your good works.

Peace on earth, goodwill toward all men.


Wednesday, December 13, 2017

A Beagle in church..





Even in the funeral business you will find lite moments.. moments that
seem to have been placed there on purpose if you will, just to relieve
the strain of the day. The following is one such moment. A real story
from the book Undertakings of an Undertaker, true stories of being
laid to rest. I can't help but smile each time I review it...maybe because
I'm a former Beagle owner and dog lover. You'll smile too when you
read it.



                                                A Beagle in Church (Day of the Beagle)

    My assistant and I arrived at the Methodist Church in plenty of time for the scheduled 1:00 pm memorial service.  We unloaded the five floral pieces and placed them appropriately around the alter and the riser in front of where I would be seating the family.
   The gentleman who had passed just three days earlier had been cremated, and his lovely wife, also getting on in years, had decided she would like his service at their church where they had been married some forty- five
years earlier.  This is truly the full circle of life, being baptized at a church, perhaps being married at the same altar a couple of decades later, and finally having your mortal remains taken to the same facility for a final goodbye.  What would transpire at that altar less than an hour from now was another of those “it will never happen again” moments, a moment indeed worth writing about.
   The church members started to arrive within twenty minutes of the appointed hour, and I briskly assisted them at the register book, handing them a service bulletin and directing them to a seat.  One elderly lady with a rough looking fox wrapped about her neck whispered in my ear as she passed, "Do you fellows have Mrs. Billings who passed away last night? She was a dear and I must know where she will be laid out."
   Having no knowledge of the woman's death, I remarked back to her, "I'm so sorry, but no, our firm has not been notified of her passing.  Perhaps one of the other firms in town has her."
   "Oh quite so" she uttered back.  "Although, your firm does such a lovely job, can't see anyone wanting to go elsewhere."
   Before I could suggest she look at the evening newspaper, she had quickly left me and had made her way through the double doors at the back of the church.  She was heading for one of the nearby ancient wood pews, which had no padding, just a straight back and a most uncomfortable contour. I had figured out years ago why so many churches built a century ago configured them as such. It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to fall asleep in one of these pews.  Even if a man or woman of the cloth were to go on for an hour, or more, you most assuredly would have to be constantly manipulating your back and limbs to keep from seizing up.  This surely would keep you awake through the majority of the sermon delivery!
   Within twenty minutes , we had almost seventy people in church.  The pastor winked at me on his way in and said,"Good day young man. I'll try to be brief today."  Now when a Pastor says that, be prepared. What that means is that you will be there for the duration.  In fact, you might miss your first childs birth.
    Soon, the pastor was at his post, and the organist had sounded the official opening with his rendition of “The Old Rugged Cross”. To my left, came two very young and distinguished looking members of the U.S. Navy. The deceased had been a Veteran of the Navy, and these folks were here to present the flag to his wife who now sat in the first pew on the right. I instructed them on where the wife was seated, what she was wearing etc..  They stretched their necks to make sure they had her in sight and nodded in the affirmative to me.  I thanked them in advance for their service and they said in return to me, "You're welcome Sir.  We are honored to be here today."
    The pastor had finished his sermon and from the pulpit announced that military honors would now be accorded before the final blessings given.  The two service people walked slowly in step up the middle aisle of the church.  Their actions together, almost forming one person.  Military honors were always moving, seeing the flag unfolded, refolded and handed to a loved one, thanking them for the veteran's service to the nation. But today, there would be a little icing on the cake.
    As the service attendants held the flag fully unfolded and prepared for the re-fold, out of a secondary parallel aisle to the left came running the unmistaken brown, black and white dog body of a small Beagle. He hit the main aisle, made a sharp left turn and bolted for the front of the church.  As he passed three rows of pews, several in attendance started to laugh, a sharp contrast to the seriousness of the two Navy personnel who looked on, trying to keep their composure.  As the Beagle passed the eighth and ninth aisles, a gentleman on the very inside reached down, grabbed the Beagle and gingerly pulled him up on the pew, putting to an end to his uninvited presence at this most solemn occasion.

   I believe the widow never knew what happened behind her, and the flag presentation was completed with all its dignity that could be mustered.  We never did find out who the dog belonged to, but everyone in attendance had a smile on their face as they left.  Im sure many were thinking that this was not an accident, but rather planned by a "Higher Up" authority to lessen the pain of those in attendance. If it was HIS will, it worked.  After all, who couldn't love a Beagle in church. 

Sunday, December 3, 2017

An old standby...




So many things have changed in the last few years... it actually

makes your head spin. Did you ever type on a machine you see here?

Oh yes. Remember the electrics we had in typing class back in high

school in the 1960's. What a noise with 15 or 20 kids pounding away

on the keys and hitting that return arm when the bell rang telling you

you were finished with that row of words. The machines were good

back then... even the manual ones like the one pictured here.

I used one for many years in the funeral home, typing death certificates

and even obituary notices. Back then, you had to give the obituary

over the phone to someone in the newsroom......or you had to

drive the finished product into their office to have it published.

It seems like a long long time ago, but actually it dates back

to the late 70's and early 80's for myself.

I had a portable typewriter inside a case that would open up. I kept

that one in my car. Sometimes you needed that machine in order to

type a certificate if you were away from home. Yes, you could hand

write the certificate in black pen, but a typed one looked so much

more professional.

I'd like to know how many of these machines still exist out there.

You see one from time to time at a road side sale. Many are in

excellent condition, almost begging you to take them home.

Now, the clickety-clack of the plastic computer keyboard seems

so harmless, weak, non productive. I miss the strike of that steel

key onto the ink ribbon resulting in that fresh letter mark on pure

white paper.

We've moved on, for sure. But the writing just isn't as much fun

as it used to be. I've kept an old ink ribbon in my writing desk,

just to remind me of another thing that has passed on with time.

Some things are just too good to through away.