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Warrior’s Welcome : Faithful 44

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Editor’s Prologue

January 25, 2015 — Philippines National Police Special Actions Force commanders enter the jungle to “Arrest” a suspected Islamic terrorist.  The PNP’s SAF commandos end up engaged in a firefight with “The Enemy.”

January 30, 2015 is declared “The National Day Of Mourning” to honor the memories of the brave men who engaged and fought the criminals and terrorists in the jungle.

I am a retired United States Air Force photojournalist and editor.  I am a pro-military writer.

Christy, my wife, is a Filipina.  My children, Samuel Ranilo Warren and Donna Junea Warren are Filipino-Americans.  My father, Samuel E. Warren served in The United States Army Signal Corps in the Philippines in World War II.  I was assigned to and served at Clark Air Base in the Republic Of The Philippines in the 1980s.

Needless to say, whenever anything happens in The United States or The Republic Of The Philippines, I and my family feel “Connected.”

I have been fortunate to meet and work with members of the Armed Forces Of The Philippines and The Philippines National Police.

I can understand and related to the grief of the families who lost loved ones in the combat in the jungle.

As a writer, I felt the best way I could express my condolences to the family members was to author a short story to celebrate the devotion, duty and dedication of the Philippines National Police Special Actions Force commandos.

Samuel E. Warren Jr.

One Warren Way

Barangay Baras, Republic Of The Philippines

Warriors Welcome: Faithful 44

FALLEN 44 Graphic e164b190-a820-11e4-b9c1-bf0dde9868b9_Screen-Shot-2015-01-30-at-9-32-29-AM

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Trumpets Of The Universe sound.  Planets in space reverberate. 

Comets and asteroids brighten for an instant and shimmer as the celestial symphony of sound passes them.

The solar bodies of stars glow with renewed radiation, which causes them to shine light Gold, Ruby and Lapis against The Eternal Charcoal Of The Universe.

For an instant, The Celestial Trumpets Sound and The Universe is a Crystal Of Courage And Compassion, which spreads throughout the infinite canvas of Eternal Night. 

Not a single scientific instrument on Earth or adrift in the Infinite Celestial Sea will record the miraculous music.

The Archangels and Angels, in their dress uniforms, stand in their positions, on both sides of The Red Carpet Corridor.

The Souls arrive at the end of the carpet and begin their measured step down the great corridor.

At the end of the red carpet is The Mystical Presence Of The Stranger.

The 44 Souls stroll the carpet past the formation of archangels and angels, who stand in Admiration and Respect.

The 44 Souls stop at about six feet away from The Mystical Presence Of The Stranger, which has the energy form of a human, but not the definition of flesh and form.

Before their eyes, the 44 watch The Transition.  The Stranger’s energy takes on a human form in a military dress uniform.

“Welcome To Valhalla !”

The words are spoken and emerge as English, Tagalog, Cebuano, and Waray.

The stranger smiles and nods.  “Call me, what you will, ‘ God’, ‘Mars’, ‘Ares’, ‘Thor’, I am your host for this ‘Welcome Reception.”

“You, Gentlemen, are ‘The Fallen 44 of the Philippines National Police Special Action Force’ we are assembled here, this evening. to salute, honor, witness and testify to your courage in battle.”

“You all perished in combat.  None of you made the conscious choice ‘To Die.’  All of you fought diligently and courageously to protect yourselves, your comrades-in-arms and to achieve your Mission.  No one in The Universe can question your courage and dedication.  You died in service to your country, your families and your fellow citizens.  There is No Greater Selfless Sacrifice In The Universe.”

“Tonight, this feast is to ‘Welcome You To Our Immortal Ranks.’  Tomorrow, you will witness from your positions here in Valhalla, ‘The National Day Of Mourning’ in the Republic Of The Philippines.  It will be a challenge for you.” 

“As Souls, you have your celestial bodies.  You retain the memories of Love for your families on Earth.  Grief, is difficult for humans to understand and express.  It will be difficult for you to watch your families grieve and it will be hard for you to accept and acknowledge the intense emotions.”

“Here, I have designed a way that you can welcome and accept the true emotions without you experiencing overwhelming grief for the families you have left behind.  Yes, your loved ones remain on Earth.”

“They are angry.  They are upset.  They are broken.  They are confused.  In time, they will understand your devotion and dedication to duty demonstrated your undying Love for them.  You sought to protect their Lives and an infinite number of lives around the globe by the successful execution of your Mission.  There was a definite valid reason for your sacrifice.”

“You, Gentlemen, are representative of what humankind was intended to be.  Caring, humane, selfless individuals who lived your lives in appreciation of each sunrise and helped other people on your journey through Life.”

“I salute you.  We salute you.  The Archangels and Angels Of The Universe salute you.  Gentlemen,  I welcome you to our ranks.”

“You, now, stand enshrined in eternity as “Heroes.” 

You out rank every prophet, saint, pope, ecumenical patriarch, archbishop, grand mufti, rabbi, ayatollah, imam, cleric, priest, preacher, or evangelist who has every lived, who lives or who will ever Live.”

“This is Warrior Heaven.  This is Warrior Paradise.  You ended your lives on Earth trying to protect and save the lives of others, there is No Greater Love.  You perished in a thought for your comrades-in-arms, your families, your country and your world.  No God, No Goddess, No Entity In All Of Creation could ‘Ask’ more of any mortal in The Universe.” 

“I Welcome You To Valhalla !”

God salutes the assembled 44, who stand at attention proud, but, slightly uncomfortable at the celestial pomp and circumstance.

The Archangels and Angels salute.

God smiles and nods.  “Gentelmen, the Valkyries, Amazons and Archangels stand ready to help you settle into your quarters at the conclusion of our formal dinner this evening.  Saint Michael and Saint Samuel will show you gentlemen to your seats at the head table.”

God winks.  “Tomorrow, will be a challenge for you, gentlemen.  Tonight, you dine and rest to witness tomorrow’s activities on Earth.

God smiles and gestures to The Official Reception Line.  “Gentlemen, this concludes my official welcome speech.  Here in the reception line are The Ancestral Comrades-In-Arms who are anxious to congratulate on your acceptance into our ranks at Valhalla.”

“I believe, many of you, gentlemen are familiar with the combat records and historic valor of your hosts this evening.  Allow me to introduce General Emilio Aquinaldo and General Paulino Santos of the Republic Of The Philippines and General Douglas MacArthur and General Mark Clark of the United States Of America.”

God smiles and steps back to allow the 44 Souls in their dress uniforms proceed to the reception line.

God proceeds to His Throne at The Command Table and raises his glass to the assembled heroes, “Gentlemen, I salute, ‘The Fallen 44’ !”  God renders a salute.

God raises his glass at the table and looks at all of the honored souls in uniform and into their eyes : “I welcome you into my presence.”

“I welcome you into Valhalla.  I hereby confirm your immortal rank, honor and glory and welcome you, as the risen ‘Faithful 44 ! ’”

The End

Philippines National Police Special Action Force National Day Of Morning Jan 30 2015 Image

Philippines National Police

Philippines National Police symbol 1017742_710715138969745_6654143956528279625_n

Philippine National Police — Quezon City — facebook

Fallen 44 Links

Acting PNP chief: Retrieving, treating casualties in Maguindanao clash a priority

January 25, 2015 11:48pm

At least 30 elite cops killed in clash with MILF

Posted at 01/25/2015 7:18 PM | Updated as of 01/25/2015 10:57 PM

Editor’s Epilogue

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

I am not a religious man.

I do believe it is logical that there is an intelligence in The Universe beyond the understanding and comprehension of humans.

Thus, I tend to believe in “A Spiritual Intelligence” in The Universe.

In my mind and heart, I believe, “Heroes”, especially “Military Heroes” are always honored for their selfless dedication to their country and their fellow citizens.

I choose to believe “The Fallen 44“ have an immortal place of honor in the ranks of all the military warriors who have always served their nations and fellow citizens.

I salute “The Fallen 44“ as “The Faithful 44“

Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Written by samwarren55

February 8, 2015 at 1:58 PM

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“The Pope or Life : Choose ?”

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Filipino Farm Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Filipino Farm Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Edgar Tolentino, 32, stands 5‘, 6“ in his rice field. He weighs in at 110 pounds. He would be healthier if he got more food to eat everyday, but he has a wife and six children in Barangay San Antonio, Leyte, Republic Of The Philippines.

Edgar has managed to put rice on everyone’s plates three times a day, everyday. Edgar makes it a point to eat less, so, his four year old daughter, Eliza gets a full belly.

The stranger at the sari-sari store, near the rice field, watches Edgar Tolentino stroll through his rice field.

Edgar’s children do well in school. Edwin, his eldest at 14, is studying hard for a chance to work in the Philippine National Police and hopes someday to work at the National Bureau of Investigation.

The Philippine’s sunshine is already burning away the coolness of morning and Edgar feels the rising heat. Ellen, his eldest daughter is 12. Elaine’s hero is former President Manuel Roxas and Edgar watches her at night study by candlelight.  The cell phone he got her for Christmas gives off more light and she seems entranced by the images on the tiny screen as she reads the tiny type for her school lessons.

Elaine, a daddy’s girl, told her dad she is going to be Ambassador Of The Republic Of The Philippines to Great Britain. . .and, maybe. . .the United States Of America.

Edgar smiles at the memory and reaches down to look at the rice stalks. He puts his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun’s increasing light and heat.

EAST TEXAS OR EASTERN VISAYAS_6576_Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.The stranger rises from the bench at the sari-sari store and strolls along the barangay road toward the rice field.

Edgar wipes the sweat off of his forehead. He reaches down and rubs the back of his right leg. It aches. Doctor Salazar believes a parasite has entered his body from the water, which sometimes stands in the rice field.

For now, medicine has the infection under control. Edgar is worried, but he has his wife and children to love and care for, so, he rubs his leg and steps out into the field with the standing water sloushing loudly under his rubber boots.

The “Heat” is really getting to him. He is light-headed. He turns to walk to the bamboo lean-to with the canvas shade. If he can stretch out on the bamboo mat and rest for a few minutes, then, the heat will pass. Edgar smacks his lips. He would love some water. He left the house without his beat up water jug.

The stranger, an unknown Filipina, glances down at her rubber boots and steps into the rice field and walks toward the bamboo shade structure.

Edgar stretches out on the mat and closes his eyes.

“Thump ! Thump ! Thump !”

Edgar hears his heart beating loudly in his ears. He rubs his chest. He has never realized that it takes so much effort to breathe. He feels his chest rise and fall. Edgar frowns and rubs his head to try to think: “Why is breathing difficult ? I have been breathing all my life.”

His heavy eyes open briefly.

“Who are you,” he asks ? The attractive middle-age Filipina smiles and places her hand on his chest. Edgar moans and looks at his chest. The intense flare of bright blue light becomes a halo of white light and he feels like his body is becoming light.

Edgar has no idea how long he slept. He opens his eyes and is on the bamboo mat in the rice field. He rubs his head and sits up.

He scoots off the mat and stands on polished black marble tile. He looks around him and is in a large marble hall. The air is antiseptic. He scratches his head. He is confused.

“Hoy !” His voice echoes around the great marble hall of statuesque Roman columns and echoes like thunder.

“Hoy !”

“Hoy !” His scream echoes and rumbles like thunder around the room and shakes the floor like the tremor of an earthquake.

Edgar sits down on the floor because there is no place to run. The pinpoint of intense light burns a hole in the air and expands quickly. A starburst of orange, yellow, red and blue light expands and begins to become a human image within six feet of Edgar.

Edgar gulps and drops down on one knee. He puts up his hand to shield his eyes.

“Stand up,” orders the voice in fluent Waray

Edgar keeps his head down and slowly rises. “You know, who I am,” remarks the voice.

Edgar nods.

“Then, look at me.”

Edgar blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. “I am not Moses.”

“Of course, you’re not Moses ! Moses is dust in The Universe. You are Edgar Tolentino. And, I am not a burning bush, so. . .Look at me !”

Edgar slowly lowers his hand as the light slowly fades away.

Edgar gasps and drops to both his knees.

“God !”

“In the flesh !” God laughs, walks over and puts out his hand to Edgar.

“Stand up, Edgar. If you keep dropping down on your knees every time I ask you a question, then, it is going to take centuries for us to have a meaning full conversation.”

Edgar rises slowly and bolts back a few feet. “You ! You look like. . .! I mean, I look like. . .You !”

God laughs. “Of course. Silly man. All children look like their mothers and fathers. You look like me because I am your Father. Look at my face closely.”

Edgar slowly eases his head forward. “ Tatay !”

“Exactly,” smiles God. “You are looking at ‘The Face Of Your Earthly Father’ when he was age 22, because he is convinced that was the best year of his Life. The point, Edgar, is every human being on the planet is a part of and reflected in God because God Is The Universe.”

Edgar frowns. God smiles. “My bad,” grins God. “I ignored the fact that as a child or man you have never been that interested in philosophy.” God winks. “You were never that curious as a child.”

“Can I ask a question,” asks Edgar.

“Shoot !” God smiles broadly.

“Am I Dead ?”

“Do you feel dead,” teases God ?

Edgar shrugs and carefully touches his chest.  God laughs. “No. Edgar Tolentino. You are not dead.”

“You are ‘Taking A Time Out.’ Humans like the terms, Visualization, Near Death Experience, and Out Of Body, among other words to explain your current situation. Suffice to say, your body is resting and your gray matter, brain tissue and mind is open wide. You are thinking faster than you ever thought possible.”

God gestures and a Louis XIV chair appears behind Edgar and an oblong Louis XIV coffee table appears between Edgar and God. A matching chair appears behind God. God smiles and brushes at his shoulder and the white robe changes to a white western shirt, denim jeans and black cowboy boots.

Edgar eases into the chair behind him. His faded, worn, torn red T-shirt and black walking shorts changes on his body. He settles into the chair and glances at the formal barong and black dress slacks that he is wearing complete with dark socks and black comfortable slip on loafers.

“How ?”

“I’m God. I do this kind of stuff.”

“What you thought the term, “Creator”, was just a compliment ?” God smiles and leans back in the chair.

A silver platter appears on the Louis XIV coffee table with the matching silver coffee pot, sugar bowl and milk pitcher. A tall glass of cold water appears closest to Edgar. God gestures at the glass and Edgar drinks the cool, precious water.

Edgar grins. “I have a million questions.”

God laughs. “Let’s start with one. It is easier to answer one question at a time. Then, we will get to the rest, all in due time.”

“One second,” remarks God. He holds up his finger and gestures. “There. Now, when you open your mouth to speak, you will recognize your voice, but, probably, not the language, since you didn’t finish grade school.”

“But, you speak, ‘Waray’,” remarks Edgar in fluent, loud English.

“Yes. I do. I speak read, write and understand every language on the planet, 24 hours a day, everyday of the year. Language is language. I choose English for speed of communication. Plus, English, at the present time, has more words in the Universal Vocabulary, so it is quicker and easier to express and idea and be understood.”

God smiles. “Anyway, Edgar, I did not bring you here to tutor you in English. I brought you here to think about your Life and the lives of your children. You have worked hard all your life to provide for yourself and your family. You’ve gotten off the path.”

Edgar frowns. “I am a religious man. I am doing everything I can to help my barangay participate in the Pope Francis’ visit.”

God nods. “I know, Edgar. You are a good man. You are a good father. Religion is fine to a point. However, when you become too devoted to any religion, then you become a zealot, a fanatic, a radical, an extremist and, then, it is just a small step across the line to criminal and terrorists.”

“You’ve gotten “To Into” your religion and you are going to hurt yourself and your family. Edgar, the world always has more than enough stupid suicide bombers and idiotic religious martyrs. I don’t want you or any member of your family to take that step.”

“Why don’t you stop ‘suicide bombers’ ?” Edgar blurts out.

“I do,” answers God, who gestures and an image of a Middle East man trips in a vacant lot in Damascus and he explodes. “An hour ago in Damascus, this moron blew himself to Kingdom Come. I have countless legions of angels and archangels at my beck and call.”

“The idiotic suicide bombers of the planet keep my legions of covert and military angels on duty around the clock in an attempt to stop or expose the terrorists. My archangels and angels are efficient, but the human mind thinks and conceives ideas faster than the speed of light. As fast as the angels fly, they, don’t always arrive in time to stop the insane suicide freaks of the planet.”

God grins an sips his cup of coffee. The cold refilled glass of water appears on the table by Edgar.

“Okay, son, we have gotten off topic. I brought you hear to let you ‘Take Command of your Life,” smiles God.

Edgar frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“You and your family are not living your lives. You are wasting your lives in support of meaningless fiction that will keep you poor, starving and, in the end, might get you or some, if not all, of your family killed. You can choose to “Waste Your Life” and “Play The Silly Religious Game” or you can open your eyes and enjoy your Life — your choice.

”Satan,” thinks Edgar.

God smiles broadly and laughs loudly.

”No, Edgar. I am Not Satan,” grins God.  “Nor, am I am Lucifer. I am not any of the bad guys of the world‘s religion. And, I am not any of the negative energy of the planet.”

Edgar shuffles in his seat. “How do I know ?”

God smiles and leans forward to look at Edgar. “Look into my eyes, Edgar. What do you feel ? What do you sense ?”

“I. . .I. . .,” Edgar’s expression breaks into a grin. He giggles.

“Peace. Joy. Hope. Contentment. Humor. Happy. Happiness. . .you can stop me anytime I get to the right word and feeling,” teases God.

Edgar snickers. “Happy.”

God points at his chest. Edgar eases back in the chair as his eyes witness the vastness of space appear before him with numerous galaxies and planets. God’s face remains in place and The Universe expands around Him.

“I am ‘The Universe’ !”

“You are a Child Of The Universe !”

“You are a Living, Breathing Testament Of All — that has ever been, is, and will ever be.” The panorama of ‘The Universe’ contracts and returns into the body of God in the chair.

Edgar shifts uncomfortable in his chair. God smiles. “Relax, Edgar. I am your Father. I want only the best for you.”

God stands up and a long highly polished walnut dining table appears in the room. The table is set with pancit canton, pancit bihon, barbequed pork chops, baked tilapia, halibut and a large, steaming container of rice. God gestures at the table. “Let’s have lunch. After all, you skipped breakfast this morning to rush off to the rice field.”

Edgar slowly walks toward the table. He puts out a finger to touch the table. “It’s all real,” chuckles God, who settles into his chair at the head of the table. God gestures at the chair to his right. “We have hot pandasal rolls and you will notice the pitchers of ice water and ice tea. And, I have my coffee. I love coffee.”

God winks at Edgar. “I considered putting a pitcher of tuba on the table, but you drink coconut wine fast. I want you alert and not drunk to what I am saying.” God grins, waves his hand over the table and cold pitchers of clear soda, black soda and orange soda appear beside Edgar. God looks at his coffee pot and a cold pitcher of grape juice and a cold pitcher of orange juice appears.

“Eat, drink and be merry,” grins God, who picks up his knife and fork to cut into his barbequed pork chop.

Edgar puts pancit on his plate and takes one of the hot rolls. “Why me ?”

“Why you, what,” asks God ?

“I’m no prophet.”

God laughs and puts the napkin to his lips. “Heaven’s No.”

“Edgar, old buddy. Prophet’s are a dime a dozen.”

“Every con man or con woman on the planet seems to play prophet sooner or later. I have priests, imams, nuns, archbishops, evangelists, cardinals, ayatollahs, rabbis, ecumenical patriarchs, ministers, popes, clerics and preachers coming out my ears.”

God grins. “I sometimes wonder whether there are more holy men and holy women on the planet or cockroaches.”

God laughs. “Religion is an old scam and con game.  Perhaps, “Fear” is why so many people rush to religion. After all, modern societies still haven’t come up with a legitimate, concrete way to prove the religious people are lazy frauds and crafty criminals.”

God shrugs. “The holy men aren’t ‘Stupid.’ They have learned to play the game well. They put some Money into hospitals, nursing homes, colleges, universities, grade schools, high schools and do some charitable work.  They always have their holy book or scriptures with the categorized verses that they are certain answers ever question ever asked.  Of course, automobiles were around in the Holy Land in ancient times, so either automobiles are Evil and ‘Of Satan’, or, the old prophets simply weren’t as smart as they thought they were.”

“The same old game for centuries.  Prophets and holy men and holy women always claim to have the answers.  They are polite and usually can convince the legal and government authorities they care.  Still, a scam by any other name is still a scam.”

“It helps when the Holly Rollers, Bible Beaters,Jesus Freaks, Peace Freaks and Prophet Mohammed Freaks get themselves elected into government institutions around the world, so they can keep screwing up domestic and foreign policies of their respective nations.”

Edgar frowns. “God, the religious people. . .the holy men. . .they all represent you.”

God shakes his head No.

He dabs his lips to his napkin.

“I am God !  I represent God !”  God grins, ” I have lived long enough, I can represent myself.”

“I, God speak for myself. I do not need some ‘criminals in costumes’ to pretend to ‘represent’ Me.”

God chews his food and sips his coffee. “Holy Men represent their wallets,” explains God, who dabs his napkin to his lips.  “They are ‘too lazy’ to get ‘A Real Job’, so, they find ‘a scam’ where they don’t have to work up a sweat and run with it to make a living.”

God leans back in the chair. “Edgar, ‘I’ created ‘You’ and ‘All’ humans to live on earth and enjoy your Life. I gave you a brain, intelligence, common sense, freedom and a beautiful planet to enjoy.  It is your Life, Edgar.  I want you to think for yourself.”

“Son, you always have to ‘Work’ for what you want in Life. Nothing comes easy. If you have to ‘Work’ for something then you can appreciate it and enjoy it, whether it is a jug of tuba under a coconut tree in a rice field or in a living room in a mansion in Manila.”

God shakes his head. “Don’t “Blame” me for the silly ‘Religion Crap’ of the planet !  The idea of ‘Religion’ is a ‘Stupid’ idea of humanity because you deny your skills, talents, capabilities and intellect, in a sick attempt, to live up to some old perverts’ ancient comic book understanding of Life.”

God smiles and puts a piece of the barbequed pork chop into his mouth and chews. “Umm . . .Heaven. Absolute Heaven. I Love Pork.”

Edgar finishes his plate and refills his glass with some of the black-colored soda. “I am Dead,” asks Edgar ?

God smiles. “You tasted the pancit canton, the pandasal, the fish and the fizz of the soda on your tongue. Newsflash, Edgar, ‘Dead People’ don’t dine.”

God smiles broadly and gestures at the end of the table. A  middle-age buxom Filipina in a bright blue shark skin business suit and bright red ruffled blouse appears and strolls to the chair beside God.

“Sir ?”

“Archangel Jonnari allow me to introduce Edgar Tolentino,” introduces God.

“You. . she,” stammers Edgar.

“Yes,” God nods.

“Archangel Jonnari was working the aftermath of the terrorist bombing in Paris, when I reassigned her to deliver you to me this morning.

The Filipina Archangel winks at Edgar. “Having fun, yet,” she asks ? God nods and Archangel Jonnari settles into a chair.

A 20 something man in a formal waiter’s uniform appears and pours a hot cup of coffee to serve to God.

“Thank you,” smiles God, who sips his coffee.

“I am putting Archangel Jonnari and Archangel Fernando in command of two legions of archangels to deploy to Manila and Tacloban City. I already have three legions of angels on the ground deployed from Manila to the outskirts of Tanauan to work the papal visit,” explains God.

“Five legions of angels to protect the pope,” comments Edgar.

“Pope Dope,”shrieks God ! He laughs loudly and he bursts into laughter.

God wipes a tear of laughter from his eye. “I wouldn’t waste one mutt in Manila to protect that old snake charmer. He is as full of it as a Christmas turkey.  Why is it everyone ‘assumes’ God always likes a particular person in the position of pope ?  ”

“I have five legions of angels sandals on the ground in the Philippines to try and protect the people. In the 21st Century, global terrorists are like dust because they settle everywhere. It does not matter what you tell people about ‘The Threat’ because they get a massive case of ‘Religion Stupid” and their common sense goes out the door.”

God frowns. “Contrary to popular global belief, it does not ‘Make My Day’ to see dozens of humans dead with flesh and blood everywhere. My legions of archangels and angels are guardians and protectors of the universe who try to save humans as often as they can from doing something stupid which will get the human killed.”

God smirks, “Archangels and angels work for the universe. My archangels and angels are not pitchmen for any of earth’s religions !”

Archangel Jonnari smiles broadly and looks at God. “Sir. If you will excuse me. I should return to Tacloban City.”

“Very well. Thank you, Jonnari.”

The woman nods and vanishes.

“Manners,” remarks God. “The world was a nicer, kinder place, back in the past, when parents and schools taught, ‘Manners : ’ Please. Thank You. Yes, sir. No, sir. Yes ma’am. No ma’am. People lost their ‘Respect’ for others. Then, people lost ‘Respect’ for themselves. Now, my beautiful planet is a toilet bowl of fools, idiots, moron and frightened freaks.”

God shrugs. He scoots his chair back from the table and looks at Edgar.

“Show time, son,” he announces.

God moves his chair further back. “Crash Course In God. Here it comes. Go ahead and sip some soda. I am ready to rock your world and wake up your mind. Are you ready ?”

Edgar slowly nods. God grins. He moves his hand down and God becomes Goddess. A tall, buxom muscular Filipina in a goddess evening gown stands smiling at Edgar.

Edgar drops his glass of soda and falls out of the chair. Goddess steps over and puts out her hand to help Edgar to his feet. Edgar scoots back.

“I don’t understand.”

Goddess smiles and laughs as she helps Edgar to his feet. “Humans really have a harder time with gender and sexual orientation issues than with racial and social issues,” Goddess admits.  Edgar notices God’s voice changed when he became Goddess.

Edgar frowns and scratches his head as he sits back in his seat. “Are you God or Goddess,” asks Edgar ?

Goddess laughs and winks, “You are really going to like the answer to that question.”

Goddess puts her hand in front of her face. Her fingernail color changes from pink to crimson red as she moves her hand down.

Edgar witnesses the changes to Goddess’ face as the eyelashes appear longer and false.  The lips of her mouth seem to become fuller and the lipstick shade of pink changes to crimson red.

The traditional Filipina’s long charcoal locks displays blended in blonde highlights in her hair that hangs down past her shoulders to the top of her D-cup breasts, which expands the fabric of the gown into a denim western shirt with rhinestone in the place of piping on the blouse.

Edgar slowly leans forward to glance at the thickness of the Filipina’s neck and realizes that a red bandana acts as a hair band and the tails of the bandana are slightly visible behind her clip on long, diagonal earrings, which seem to weigh her ears lobes down.

Edgar realizes that Goddess was in an evening gown and, perhaps, this slow changing process is just allowing her to change into more comfortable attire.  The wide white engraved western belt appears in the belt loops and Goddess grasps the large shiny silver oval belt buckle and smiles at Edgar.

Edgar seems confused.  Goddess smiles and puts up a manicured finger to gesture that he should wait and watch as the fading gown slowly transforms into form fitting flared denim jeans, which rest on the instep of the petroleum black cowboy boots.  Goddess swings her hips to the left and asks, “What do you think, Edgar ?”

Edgar scoffs.  “You changed from an evening gown into blue jeans ?”

Goddess laughs loudly and tosses back her head.  Edgar notices the laugh is different.

“The long dress was nice.  I imagine the pants are more comfortable.  Maybe, it is the heat from the rice field, but other than your clothes changing before my eyes I don’t see anything really different about you,” admits Edgar.

Goddess laughs loudly.  “Human eyes are precise instruments.  However, the human eyes and the human mind does not always agree on the image seen,” smirks Goddess, who swings her hips to the right.

Edgar shakes his head confused.

“T-Goddess,” proclaims Goddess !

Edgar’s mouth drops open.   He gawks at Goddess for a moment and leans slightly forward in his chair.  Suddenly, he bolts back against the chair.

“God is a Bakla !”

Edgar wretches backward and the chair slips and falls back against the floor.  T-Goddess hunkers down to help Edgar to his feet.  A surprised, Edgar pauses and then puts out his hand to be helped to his feet.  T-Goddess picks up the fallen chair and sits it upright.

T-Goddess laughs. “You need to take a breath. You look like you are going to have a heart attack.”

“Edgar, son, take a deep breath.”

T-Goddess steps back and puts her hands on her hips. Edgar watches T-Goddess transform back into God before his eyes.

“I am Everything.”

“I am Everyone.”

“I am ‘The Creator.’”

“As the creator, I created everything. Since I created everything. I created everyone. Heterosexual, Homosexual, Hermaphrodite, Gay, Lesbian, and Transexuals. I am proud of all my creations because they are all my sons and daughters.”

God winks, “I got out my box of crayons and created the different races of the planet as well.

“You are all my children.”

“I love you all.”

“Having said that let me explain something, I disown all terrorists. There is No Redemption. Terrorists become dust in The Universe, which means they might end up as part of the ring of Saturn or continue to drift through space for eternity.”

“Suicide Bombers ! Religious Martyrs ! All those dirtbags get a Major Wake Up Call once it is too late. Serial killers and Mass Murderers I look at their souls before I make a final decision. Usually they don’t do well when it comes to ‘Eternity.’

“One of the major problems of Life On Earth is ‘Belief .’”

“No one believes in God anymore. No one believes in Goddess anymore. No one believes in ‘The Universe’ anymore. As a result, No one believes in themselves anymore.”

God nods at Edgar. “Edgar, you have had a busy, hard life. We both know, you are a mechanic at heart. You have always loved taking things apart and putting them back together again. You were as happy as a hog in slop for four years ago in Bulacan when you were working with your uncle on Jeepney engines.”Salvacion Jeepney Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr. 0018_resized

“You put aside your skills and talents to return to Leyte to work on the family rice farm. Your Life. Your decision. Ah, but, was it the right decision ?”

“Edgar, Life is my gift. I want all my children to live their gift to the best of their ability. Everyone on earth, needs to wise up and take charge of their life. Live the Life you want.”

“Never ever surrender your personal freedom as a human being to some old snake charmers whose ‘Sole’ interest in ‘You’ is your wallet.”

Edgar frowns. “You are telling me to ‘throw away’ my religion.”

God shakes his head No. “I don’t care what silly religious fairy tale around the globe that people choose because in the end all those thoughts and prayer end up with Me. I am telling you to quit being “Religious Stupid.”

“This year alone, you have “Wasted” 2,894 pesos and 37 centavoes on ‘The Church.’ You could of taken 1,000 of those pesos and bought you some hollow blocks to built a stronger house.”

“If you had bought some cement for around 517 pesos back in March, then, you would have a foundation for your home, so that the next flood doesn’t end up in your living room with your wife and kids rushing to put their clothes in plastic bags to keep them from being washed away.”

“Edgar, son, you are a good man. You are smart and you work hard. Quit giving your money away to lazy old fools in costumes, who only run their mouths.”

“Santo Poppa. Pope. Grand Mufti. Archbishop Of Canterbury. Ecumenical Patriarch — whatever title you give these old fools it always comes down to “Con Man” and “Your Wallet.”

The waiter clears away the dishes, while Edgar stares at God.

“You really do look like my father,” Edgar remarks. “I mean, my father. . . back in Barangay Cameri. He’s older now and got a lot of white hair, but the resemblance is. . .unnerving.”

God laughs and Edgar’s face appears on God’s face. Edgar grabs his chin. “Now, I’m really anxious. It’s like talking to yourself in a mirror.”

God tilts his head back and laughs and the face of Edgar’s best friend Rafael appears on God’s head. “Does this face make you more comfortable ?”

Edgar nods. “You want me to quit giving to and supporting ‘The Church ?’

“No. I want you to take charge of your Life. You can play whatever silly religion game you want to on earth. Keep in mind, the religion game usually makes people feel better.” God winks at Edgar, “I know you, Edgar, you’d rather “Waste” your Sunday morning on the barangay basketball court instead of fighting off sleep and boredom in the pew for Mass.”

Edgar blushes.  God grins, “When a game of basketball makes you feel better.,” God snickers, “Go shoot some hoops.”

“Don’t ‘Waste’ your Life living someone else’s silly religious fairy tales from the past. Live your Life, Teach your children to live their Lives.”

Edgar nods slowly. “The Pope ?”

God laughs. “What about ‘Pope Dope’ ?”

“I believe in The Holy Father,” mumbles Edgar.

God laughs. “You believe in an ole’ holy man and his crew of old men and old women half-a-world- away from Leyte; why ?”

Edgar scratches his head.

God chuckles.  “Could it be because your father believed and his father before him believed.”

“Absolutely,” replies Edgar.

God laughs.  “Once Edgar people believed the world was flat.  The world is a globe.  The point, Edgar is a belief can be wrong.  Just because someone tells you to believe something, you should use your own mind and do your own homework before you accept a belief.  Especially, when that belief can suck the Life out of your wallet by following the ‘stupid’ outdated ideas, rules, commandments and beliefs ?”

God shrugs. “You can choose to be ‘Pope Dope Stupid’, Edgar.”

“ The choice to be ‘Pope Dope Stupid’ is not going to make your life or those of your family any better. You will keep a bunch of old men in Rome and around the planet happy because your hard work and Money will allow them to sit on their hind ends and enjoy life at your expense.

“You can spend the rest of your life letting your sweat pay for new barongs for young priests and buying groceries for nuns or you can use your Money for your family and to help your community.”

“Edgar, do you really believe Pope Francis I cares about you,” asks God ?

Edgar frowns. “I. . .I”

God shakes his head No. “Many years ago, he was a bar bouncer. Edgar, you have been in bars and you have even been thrown out of one or two. Did the bouncer ever strike you as a compassionate human ?”

“If all else fails, use logic, son. You have an old 70 something years old man in a foreign country, who doesn’t know you from Adam.  How is he going to make your Life better ? Say a prayer for you. You are a grown man and a smart human, you can say your own prayers.”

“Is Pope Dope going to look out into the sea of faces in Tacloban City and suddenly realize that he needs to help you set up a system to sell your rice and improve your farming techniques ?”

God shakes his head No.

“Dog and pony show, Edgar. Pope Dope will smile, wave, and meet with the important people.  Pope Dope will do his ‘Holy Man’ routine, then, he will meet with some infirm and poor people. He will give them a smile and some words of blessing. He will forget most of the names and faces on his trip to the plane to fly out of the Philippines.”

God rises from the table and Edgar follows him. They walk forward and step into the same room, which is now decorated like a study at a British gentlemen’s club with highly polished wood moulding and door frames. They sit in the overstuffed straight back chairs by the table. A buxom blonde waitress in uniform in a white blouse and black skirt, hose and shoes walks in and places a plate of chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, by God and Edgar.

“Edgar, I simply want what every mother and father wants for their children to have a rich, rewarding Life and to be happy.”

God slices into his cake and ice cream. “Don’t you think ‘The Church’ makes me happy,” asks Edgar ?

“Does it,” quips God ?

“I. . .my. . .my mother. . .”, stammers Edgar.

God scoffs. ” ‘ The Church’ made your mother feel better, Edgar.  She is not you.  And, you are not her.”

God shakes his head No. “Son, I sense your every thought feeling and emotion. I know what makes you happy and what doesn’t. You have always been skeptic. Super Typhoon Yolanda freaked a lot of people out. You aren’t the first person that Yolanda drove running and screaming to church once the winds disappeared.”

“You didn’t stop Yolanda,” shrieks Edgar !

“No. I did not,” remarks God in a matter of fact voice.

“Yolanda was a product of earth’s weather system. Weather is based on science. I knew it was going to be bad. Whether you believe it or not, I had Legions Of Archangels and Angels, ‘Boots On The Ground’ in the midst of it. It is no walk in the park to downgrade a massive force of nature. Long story short, I and the angels kept down the body count.”

“You ?”

God smiles. “Yes. Edgar, I got my hands dirty.

“I moved through the storm and did everything I could on the ground to limit the loss of Life. In a crisis, like Yolanda, whether you are an entity or assume the forms of men and women, no one is going to recognize you because the individual ‘Fear’ is far too great.”

God looks sad for a moment. “We worked as fast as we could. It is not easy to get ahead of shifting physical force, even when you can move at the speed of thought. We did manage to keep the body count down. Still, that is no comfort for people who lost loved ones to Yolanda’s wind and waves.”

“If you couldn’t stop Yolanda; why should I believe in you,” asks Edgar ?

“You shouldn’t,” replies God abruptly !  God looks deep into Edgar’s eyes.

“Excuse me,” replies Edgar.

“You should ‘Believe In Yourself, Edgar.’ Everyone should believe in themselves.”

“You as a human can not ‘Stop Yolanda’ or any super typhoon like her.  More typhoons, earthquakes,volcanoes, and tidal waves will happen because the planet has a life of it’s own.”

“When you realize that You are A Child Of The Universe, then, you start to understand there is always two parts to God. You the human is one part.  You Beyond is the second part, which  is beyond your human form in the universe.”

“It is always the second part of The God Formula, which confuses people. Suffice to say, whether you grasp the concept of universal energy as entity, fairy, extra-terrestrial or a God tossing out lightning bolts; it is this God Part of you which knows you are connected to the universe.”

“Humans seldom find a way to combine these two major parts, so the physical part does it’s best to stumble through Life until Death.”

Archangel Jonnari appears in the room.

“Edgar, son, I have enjoyed our conversation. I want the best for you and your family. Live your Life to the best of your ability and be happy.”

Edgar takes a step. “Please, let me ask one final question.”

God nods.

“You are saying I can live my Life without a religion. Religion, most of the time, is just a sham and a con game to keep people down and serving phony masters.”

God nods.

“Jesus Christ,” mumbles Edgar.

God shrugs and turns toward Edgar. “What about Jesus Christ ?”

Edgar smiles. “He is your son ! Lamb Of God.  Lion Of God.  Lord. Savior. Son Of God. Son Of Man. Messiah !”

“No,” answers God.

“The stories of Jesus Christ and The Prophet Mohammed all came from The Middle East. In the beginning, The Middle East was a rich, lush section of the planet. The Arabs chose to destroy their homeland. They have their ancient stories to live on in their endless daily loop of violence and Death.”

“The World needs “Common Sense” and “Courage.” People need to believe in themselves. People need to believe in their intellect, skills, abilities and talents. People need to recognize “The God Essence” within themselves.”

God smirks. “I don’t want people to suit up in leotards and capes and see if they can bounce bullets off their chest. They won’t. Bullets come under and respond to the physical laws of science.”

God winks. “Edgar, you are a rice farmer. You understand the growing season. I love my plants. I love my children. I assure you I love you more than the blades of grass, the vines, the rice stalks, wheat stalks and hay stalks around the globe. Plants die and are reborn in the seeds in the earth. Wouldn’t it seem logical that my children would live again ?”

“Edgar. You are a good man. You have worked almost the instant that you came out of the womb. Most children play with their father’s wrenches, you learned to use them.”

“In our talk, this morning, does it sound like I would allow a lazy bum to lay around my house while I worked my fingers to the bone to put food on the table ?”

“No,” answers Edgar.

“Jesus Christ was a lazy Arab bum,” replies God.

God turns to face Edgar. “It is your Life, Edgar. You get to choose what you believe and what you don’t.”

God shrugs. “You, like many people, can choose to chase around the planet bowing and scrapping to the pope or any other silly human who claims to be important and holy.”

You can choose to kiss the holy hind end of any preacher, priest, pope, rabbi, imam, minister, or religious fast-talker on the planet. It is your Life,” emphasizes God.

“Or you can choose to Live Your Live to the best of your ability,” grins God. “Son, the choice is entirely up to you.”

Edgar scratches his head. Archangel Jonnari steps up to stand by Edgar.

God smiles and replies,“The Pope or Life : Choose ?”

Edgar coughs and the woman helps him into his house. Edgar looks up at Archangel Jonnari, the middle-age Filipina, in the worn T-shirt and stretched dark black fadded jogging pants.  Archangel Jonnari, winks and steps back. Ellen, Edgar’s wife rushes to him. “The ‘Heat.’” gasps Edgar.

His wife looks at him. “What,” he asks ?

“You’re speaking English,” she smiles.

“Give me a minute. Must be the heat,” explains Edgar, who looks at his walking shorts and red T-shirt.

Edgar shakes his head. “Ellen. The Money.”

“I put it away, so we can see the pope in Tacloban City or Tanauan,” Ellen answers in English.

Edgar shakes his head No. “Our kids are hungry. I noticed Elena’s flip flop sandals,this morning, and they are smiling at me. The sole has come apart and it is hard for her to walk in those sandals,” Edgar replies in Waray.

“I’m okay. I’ll get the motorbike. We are going to get Elena some sandals.”

Edgar stands up and smiles. “I’m not hungry,” he grins. “I am always hungry, but I’m not hungry.” He dances a jig.

“What’s gotten into you,” asks Ellen ?

“God !” Edgar smiles.

“God has gotten into me ! I had the greatest dream. Wait ! It wasn’t a dream.” Edgar notices the soda stain on his T-shirt. “Yes ! It was Real ! I knew it ! The feeling ! Oh, Ellen, the feeling !”

Edgar kisses Ellen on the forehead. “I feel great. I must of taken a nap in the field.”

“Incidentally, I noticed you have worn holes in all of your panties,” remarks Edgar. Ellen blushes.

“Vener, stopped by and left you three jugs of tuba. He said he owed it to you for helping him with the lechon for his daughter’s baptismal last week,” remarks Ellen.

Edgar smiles and winks up at the sky and whispers, “Maraming Salamat, po.”

“Come we are going to the market ! The kids need some food other than rice all the time.”

Edgar winks and proclaims loudly, “You need new panties !”

Ellen blushes and gets her wallet out of a plastic drawer in the plastic chest of drawers in the small room.  She scowls at Edgar steps forward and stops. “What about the pope ?”

Edgar smirks, “He can buy his own panties !”

The End


Written by samwarren55

January 17, 2015 at 3:36 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

24th Wedding Anniversary

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Editor’s Note — I wrote this editorial on my Wedding Anniversary for my wife. I had problems logging into my Word Press blog accounts on that day. Thus, the editorial stayed on my hard drive until I could get logged into publish the article.
Word Press seems to have updated their publish system, since my last editorial, so the format of this editorial may look different than previous posts.
Samuel E. Warren Jr.

24th Wedding Anniversary

Today, Sunday, July 20, 2014, Christy Warren, my wife, celebrates her 24th Wedding Anniversary. Wait, a minute. . .my wife ? Holy Cow ! That means I’ve been married 24 years today also.

I need a minute.

Okay. The shock has passed.

I am surprised I am celebrating 24 years of marriage. I was a single man. I liked being a single man.
My first marriage was “Made In Hell.” Actually, I made the Supreme Mistake of walking down the alise of the neo-Gothic cathedral of The School Of The Ozarks at Point Lookout, Missouri, back in the late ’70s.

I made it a point to ‘Forget’ that so-called “Wedding Day.”

The Lesson Of My First Marriage was simple: I will Never, Ever get married again. Two-and-a-half miserable years of being “Locked” into “Holy Wedlock”, is the reason Why I Don’t Fear Hell. I spent everyday in Hell for two-and-a-half, long, miserable years. I dreaded sunrise each day.

Once my divorce was granted, I made myself “The Promise.”

The Promise was simple: “Never Again.”

At age 24, I won back my “Freedom.”

I never had any intention of ever getting married again.

I was “Free !” I was single, again.” I had a good job in the United States Air Force. Thanks to Uncle Sam, I do my job, salute smartly and I could travel the world. I did.

Again, I was a Single American. I was fortunately to be a Single American G.I. I loved my job in Public Affairs because I got to live my fantasy as “The Reporter.”

I lived to write. My mentor Master Sergeant took the time to really “Teach” me how to use a camera to take news photographs for the newspaper. I worked at it and became a photojournalist. I wrote the stories and shot the photos, which ended up in print in a base newspaper. My Life was complete. I was Whole. I was Happy.

The day came when Uncle Sam handed me a set of orders for duty in the Pacific. Hallelujah !

The Ozarks country boy ends up at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa. I had heard my father’s stories about World War II in the Pacific. I had heard other veterans War stories about duty in the Pacific. I did some interviews and published some of those stories. When Uncle Sam gave me the orders, I had my camera bag packed before my duffel bag and I was ready to catch the aircraft on the runway.

While stationed on Okinawa, I noticed and met some of the Most Beautiful Women On Planet Earth.

I met Koreans and Filipinas. I got a temporary duty assignment to the Kingdom Of Thailand, so I met beautiful Thais, Cambodian and Laotian women.

I was in my 20s and 30s, so I was as “Handsome” as I was ever going to be. Fortunately, the striking blue uniform and my Battle Dress Uniform made even an average looking guy like me appear like a handsome Hollywood heart throb.

Still, I had “No Intention Of Never, Ever Getting Married Again.”
At Clark Air Base, Republic of the Philippines, I fell in love with the tropical climate, the country, the base, and my job. I was a Single American G.I., whose blood flowed and his heart pounded, so I naturally noticed I was “Ground Zero” in the Pacific version of Heaven. Everywhere I looked — Filipinas.

A Single Man In Paradise surrounded by beautiful women realizes Life is more fun and meaningful when it is shared.

One Filipina caught my eye. Christy had a Farah Fawcett-Majors shag haircut. Her eyes sparkled. Her smile was diamond bright sunshine.

She wasn’t tall. Still, she caught my eye and I could see her as a “Playboy” or “Penthouse” centerfold in my mind.

Christy might have known two words in English. Language was definitely the barrier. I learned broken Tagalog and she busted through the barrier and learned English quickly.

One of the things I noticed about my future wife was her independence and sense of style. In the Asian culture, women usually are shy and taught to stay in the background. Christy was one of the few Asian women I had ever met, who did not do the cultural “Docile Routine.”

When it came to style, Christy had the eye of a fashion designer. She knew how to mix and match colors that caught my eye and made other men turn their heads.

We began to date. I suddenly realized, “Jackpot !”

I knew “If” I didn’t marry Christy I would always regret the decision. I wanted someone I could “Love” and share my Life with.

Women came and Women went. I was a single man. I knew, Christy was “The Woman!” I didn’t want to see her, “Go.”

I proposed.

She made me wait.

I kept at the job and wondered “If” she would take me up on my offer.

She did.

Friday, July 20, Nineteen Eighty Nine, the presses rolled. “The Philippine Flyer” came “Hot Off The Press !”

In the best tradition of American Newspaper Editors And Reporters, I had told Christy, “The newspaper comes first !”

My Wedding Day was scheduled to happen — after “The Philippine Flyer” came off the presses. Show Time was 10 a.m., at the Justice Of The Peace office at The Main Gate of Clark Air Base. I and everyone of my witnesses and people from my office were in position.

The only thing missing ? The Bride.

Christy was having “Second Thoughts.”

The clock ticks. Time passes.

I smiled a lot.

The smiles helped to hide my nervousness.
I remembered the stories about being “Left At The Altar.” I remembered Dustin Hoffman in the movie, “The Graduate.”

The witnesses were getting restless. The Justice Of The Peace did some more paperwork to pass the time.

I got restless.

At 1 p.m., my “Bride” walked through the door. Heaven retired an “Archangel” that day. Christy was a heavenly vision. She wore a simple white dress with the traditional Filipina “Imelda Marcos Filipina sleeves”, which rise an inch or two at the shoulder seam.

Filipina First Lady Imelda Marcos made the dress style internationally famous, so, at least, Military Americans got in the habit of describing the dress as “The Imelda Dress” or a Filipino dress with “Imelda sleeves.”

Christy wore her long hair up to create a bun at the back described as Chinese style. I describe her holding mechanism as “Chopsticks”, for lack of a better descriptive term.

Christy was “Perfect.”

24 Years Later — My Bride, Christy is still “Perfect.”

The only thing my bride lacked was “Wings.” I looked at her and my mind’s eye supplied the feathery, ivory angelic wings to match her dress.

“I do.” The two most important words I ever uttered in my life, I spoke that day.

When I die, I doubt I go to Heaven. I don’t care. I’m a redneck Texan. I grew up in the Hillbilly Ozarks. I am an arrogant American. I love my country and my flag.

The Texan Warrens and The Missouri Ozarks’ DeLongs taught me the most important thing in Life is to Live It and Love Your Family.

The Day I Step Out Of This Life and stand before God or Satan and am expected to make a statement about my life, I already know, what I will say:

“Sir, with all due respect, I enjoyed every second of my Life. I had the Best Mother any Son or Daughter could ever ask for.”

” I am grateful for my father. I hit the celestial jackpot of aunts and uncles when it came to DeLongs and Warrens. The Universe hit me hard at times in Life.”

“I am not a religious man. However, I got The Best Wife that any man, in the past, present or future, could ever imagine or ask for. Christy Saldana Warren might not have been an archangel, but, she has always been, My Goddess. My wife has always been my strength, my heart and my soul.”

“If this is Judgement Day; so be it ! I ain’t askin’ for ‘Squat.’ I just want The Universe, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, The Christian God and whatever other deities, real or imagined, which live in The Universe to realize I loved Christy Warren with my heart and blackened soul. I thank The Universe for my son, Samuel Ranilo Warren. I thank The Universe for my daughter, Donna Junea Warren.”

“My children have ‘The Best’ of their beautiful Filipina mother. I truly hope, my children have inherited some of the redneck arrogance, cynicism, skepticism, independence, stubbornness,and courage of their American Warren and DeLong ancestors and their ‘Hell-raising’ father, so they will achieve their own personal greatness in their lives.”

“Therefore, God, Satan, with all due respect,my Life is better than I could of ever hoped for. Faith, Hope, Beauty, Joy, Happiness — I had it all.”

“If you gentlemen dieties wanted me to suffer — you messed up ! I found ‘My Wife.’ I found ‘My Life.’ Christy Saldana Warren. I lived on the planet Earth. But, I Never really Lived until I woke up each morning and looked into Christy’s face.”

“My world. My Life. My Soul. I lived as a man. My wife completed me. No silly reward or No eternal punishment can ever separate my from The Love Of My Wife Christy On Earth.”

“Send Me To Heaven ! Send Me To Hell ! Cast My Atoms To The Far Reaches Of The Universe ! I will have the last smile. I had ‘The Best Mother Of Mankind.’ No Eternal Punishment Will Ever Torture My Sinner’s Soul because I had ‘The Best Wife Of Mankind’ — Christy Saldana Warren.”

In the United States, it is never easy to find the Love of another person.

In the Republic Of The Philippines, Love might be totally ignored because people are taught to believe in a God creature or his underling, rather than open their eyes and search for the soul that adds to or completes their Life.

My Life has taught me that Love is The Soul Who Completes You.

Christy has not always agreed with me. Christy, at times, has definitely disagreed with me. We have had our loud shouting matches at each other. However, I would never want to imagine My Life Without Her.

Thus, God or Satan — real or not — does not worry me. None of the deities of Mankind frighten me. Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, The Christian God can all take a bus to Brooklyn and drown themselves in The Atlantic Ocean. I do not “NEED” or “WANT” any of the silly religious fantasies and mythologies of The World’s Old Tired Organized Religions.

I stood at “Ground Zero”, the day that Super Typhoon Yolanda, came to my barangay in the Philippines. I heard the winds howl. I saw the intense white light around the door frame. The door busts open three times. Three times I rushed put my shoulder to the door and closed it.

None of the phony Gods Of Mankind had ‘The Power’ to take me.

I love my wife and family. The phony Gods didn’t get me and they had their chance.

Super Typhoon Yolanda didn’t take me and I gave her three chances when I grabbed the door and shut it.

Thus, “If” I ever do stand before one of the false Gods Of Mankind or Satan, I will be respectful: I was born a Texan and “Respect” is ingrained in my DNA.

I will not “Fear” because I was raised in the Ozarks by a proud “hillbilly” mother, who taught me “Love IS Family” and “Family IS Always Love.” Relatives who betray you; aren’t family — they are just biological lifeforms who have a lot of the shared RNA and DNA.

Marriage can and does “Create A Special Mystical Strand Of RNA and DNA”, which flows through the blood and enhances the organs to evolve a human into a special, unique human, who lives for his or her family.

In the final analysis, I have, no doubt, I could look God or Satan in the eyes and present my final statements.

“My wife,Christy made me welcome each sunrise. Everyday with Christy was an adventure. We had our ups. We had our downs. We always had ‘The Love.’ Christy gave me two beautiful children, Samuel Ranilo Warren and Donna Junea Warren. The Universe knows ‘My Goddess’ is Christy Warren — my heart, my soul, and my Life.”

Thank You, Christy for 24 Wonderful Years Of Married Life. Thank You, Christy for 24 Years Of Life. Christy, You are “My Goddess.”

I love you, Christy.

Happy Birthday, Ramon !

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Ramon Q Saldana Jr Birthday_Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E Warren Jr_resized

Ramon Q,. Sadana  Jr., is my brother-in-law.  Ramon’s birthday is eptember 21.  The daily routine of activities at One Warren Way moved his birthday celebration to September 22, 2012.  Even though Ramon cut his birthday cake, the famly enjoyed the White Forest single coconut cake with strawberry filling from Panny’s in Tacloban City.  The small cake was big enough for everyone to have a slice.  I even got “seconds.”  Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warrren Jr.

Written by samwarren55

September 29, 2012 at 3:42 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

“Happy Birthday, Marife !”

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Happy Birthday, Marife !

May 29, 2012

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

The Birthday Girl – Marife Saldana Roa, the birthday girl, opens her birthday cards. The kids and Tito Sam used their best creative efforts to make some birthday cards for the special day. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Marife Saldana was about 14 when she came to Angeles City and her sister, Christy, enrolled her in Dau Academy.

The Sisters — Christy Warren and Marife Saldana Roa, the sisters, talk and joke for a fe moments, before the birthday party gets underay. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

I met Marife, when she was the teenager.

Like her friends in the school’s white uniform blouses and required green skirts they talked about the things teenage girls talk about like: boys.

It was the late 1980s, so cell phones had yet to be invented, thus, classmates talked about things on the way to and from school

“Girl Talk” — Pina Gempis and Marife Roa talk in the kitchen. Pina spent the morning, cooking spaghetti and pancit canton for the birthday party. In the Filipino culture, pancit canton is the Filipino dish you expect to find at a birthday party because tradition states that pancit canton is a symbol of a long life. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

and on weekends because “texting” had yet to be invented.

May 29 is Marife’s birthday.

Even as a teenager, Marife had a smile and a quiet personality. In 2012, Marife is married to Ninoy Roa and the mother of four boys: Gilbert, Glen, Chrismar and Mac Mac.

“Happy Birthday to you.” — Christy Warren lights the candles on the birthday cake.
Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Today was a milestone, other than age. The last time Christy bought a birthday cake and had a birthday party for her sister, Marife, she was 16. Christy returned to the Republic of the Philippines in December 2011, and this was the first opportunity, she had to have a birthday party for her sister Marife.

Although Marife Saldana Roa is my sister-in-law, I have always believed, “She is the daughter I should of had.”  As a teenager, Marife was always respectful to her elders, did well in school, and never hesitated to use her English skills to tell me what was going on in school.  As a teenager, she always treated me like a father and since our return to the Philippines, Marife continues to be the daughter I should of had.

The Good Morning Bakery Birthday Cake. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

May 28, Christy went to the “Good Morning Bakery” in Palo and ordered the birthday cake. Christy looked through the pictures of the birthday cakes and picked out the design.  The selection of the birthday cake became a Major Military Operation because I went along to order the birthday cake.  I’m one of those people, who as a child was always “picky” about the kind of food I ate and “where I ate.”  As a senior citizen, I remain “picky” about my food from birthday cakes to anything I eat.

While the bakers were discussing the cake with Christy, I had questions about the size and flavor.  Christy remembered that Marife like vanilla.  One of the baker’s assistants brought out a cake pan to show up the size.  I took one look and figured three people would get birthday cake and everyone else would watch them eat.  I smiled and asked bigger.  The assistant then explained that they had a cake pan about twice the size.  I nodded, “Texas size.”

When selecting the novelty to place on the cake, Christy remembered as a teenager that Marife liked the TV show, “Darna.”  Darna is a Filipino super heroine, whose American counterpart is “Wonder Woman.”  Like “Wonder Woman” in the United States, “Darna” is a character in the Philippines that is always portrayed by the most beautiful Filipina actresses of every generation in the movies and on TV.  Darna has always been a positive role model for Filipina girls.

Back in the 1980s, whenever a Darna TV show or movie came on, I plopped down on the sofa beside Ramon and Marife to watch.  Thus, the Darna super heroine doll stood tall in a corner of the cake.

The Good Morning Bakery birthday cake was pleasing to the eye.  I was impressed by the taste.  The vanilla cake was moist to the tongue.  Regardless of where I have been in the world and had birthday cakes or wedding cakes, one thing I always remember is that sometimes the cakes are dry.

Once the cake comes in contact with your tongue you dash like a man in the desert for the nearest source of liquid to quench your steel wool thirst.  Christy overcomes the dryness problem with cakes by using butter to keep the cake moist.

Christy Warren serves up a helping of birthday cake and pancit canton to Edwin Mora. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

I do not know how the Good Morning Bakery kept this cake moist, but it passed my tongue test and I enjoyed the cake.  Naturally, I would of liked the cake to be a tad more moist, but, when it comes to food I am “picky.”  I am a Scorpio, but, when it comes to food, my taste buds and stomach are obviously Virgo in the extreme – my eyes and digestive system give new meaning to the phrase, “Attention To Detail” and the word, “Perfection.”

The smiling faces of the attendees and the second-helpings were a testament to the flavor of the birthday cake.  And the icing was a favorite with the adults as well as the kids.

Marife is not the only Saldana relative, who celebrates May 29 as the birthday. Randy Abano, a second cousin, is a close family member, who also shares the Gemini day.

All Western astrological signs have their positive and negative values and Gemini is a sign often considered to be “moody.”  However, Marife and Randy remind me of  the famous American Gemini, who served as a United States Navy PT boat commander, who went on to become a great American President – John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Before the birthday party began, Ranyiel Saldana handed one of the pet pigeons to Randy Abano to examine. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Randy is a quiet young man, who is always ready to help out.

Perhaps, he is “picky” about dating because he is still a single man.

Before I conclude this birthday article, I leave my readers two points to ponder.

Point Number One

In my lifetime, at birthday parties, I have always noticed that usually it seems the birthday boy or the birthday girl is expected “to cut the cake.”  Why is that ?

The birthday is the day of days, when the individual can truly celebrate the anniversary of their birth into this world.  It is the one time every year, when every man, woman and child should be respected as one of “God’s unique gifts to the Universe.”  While family and friends usually do try to honor the person, the glitch always seems to come at cake time.  Instead of a family member or friend stepping up from the ranks to do the honor, the birthday boy or birthday girl is usually left positioned behind the cake to decide how to cut if, while the fate of the Free World and human civilization hangs in the balance.

Someone hands them a knife, and leaves the birthday boy or birthday girl to decide, “How do I cut the cake ?”

On my birthday, I always smile, step back and would hand the knife to my mother, Cousin Donna, or my wife, Christy, and reply, “I do a lousy job of cutting a cake.”  I knew my talents in life did not include cake cutting, thus, one of my trusted love ones had to have a more precise skill of cake cutting than I would ever master.

In my experience, most people usually stand there bewildered until some hungry family member takes pity and decides to step up to assist.  I am no protocol person, but on someone’s special day, the goal is to honor and celebrate their birthday.  Thus, it should already be decided long before the traditional song is sung, who will step up to assume command of “The Cutting Of The Cake.”

Point Number Two

Most often a Wedding is an expensive personal ceremony that ranks right up their with Presidential Ignauration Ceremonies.  All the planning, pomp and circumstance goes into planning weddings as though it were a re-enactment of “The D-Day Landing.”  After the traditional “cutesie moment” of the bride “smushing” cake into her new husband’s face and him doing likewise to his new wife, then, the marvelous machinery of the wedding celebration rockets into high gear and the wedding cake is quickly distributed to the masses.

Unfortunately, Birthday Celebrations are sometimes one of those “Fly By The Seat Of Your Pants” events that suggests you are making it up as you go along.  The best birthday celebrations always seem to collapse like a fallen cake at serving time.  One reason maybe the absence of the ingenious device – “The Cake Server” – a utensil shaped like a pizza slice with a laid back L shaped handle that allows the utensil to slide in under the cake and raise it triumphantly in one piece up into the atmosphere.

Without the cake server, people’s stomachs always override their sense of logistics and spoons and forks are stabbed at the cake like prehistoric cave people trying to free the charbroiled dinosaur bone from the family flame pit.  It is a given, that the piece of cake will wobble and collapse like a badly constructed tower, near, and sometimes actually in the plate.  My solution is to use a knife and a fork or spoon to actually “balance” the piece of cake to the nearby plate.  My crude forklift tactic usually prevents the cake from becoming a Tower of Babble re-enactment.

The Royal Imperial Professional College of Birthday Cake Taste Testers — of any country is kids. The Saldana and Roa kids enjoyment of The Good Morning Bakery of Palo’s birthday cake quickly attained a positive five-star rating from the M &Ms, to the vanilla flavor and the icing. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Of course, Marife and Randy’s birthday party went off without a hitch because Christy Warren is a natural born protocol officer.  I suspect my wife must have been a protocol officer at a Royal European Court in one of her past lives.

Thus, when it came time to blow out the candles Marife and Randy made their wishes and blew out the candles.

The Birthday Dignitaries – Marife Saldana Roa and Randy Abano gather around the birthday cake, while Ann Ann Natividad watches in the background. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Happy Birthday, Marife ! Happy Birthday, Randy !


Cap and Gowns

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Cap and Gowns

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Glen The Graduate ! – Glen is flanked by his mother, Marife Saldana Roa, and his father, Ninoy Roa, in this photo in the church, after the graduation exercises. Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

In the United States of America, the months of May and June signals the graduation season for high school students. In the Republic of the Philippines, the month of March signals the graduation season for high school students.

While high school students look forward to graduation day in both countries, grade school graduations in the Republic of the Philippines seems to take on an air of more importance than in the United States.

In both countries, high school students look forward to wearing the cap and gown. The traditional mortarboard cap is known as a cap in both countries. In the United States, the graduation robe is usually called a “gown.” In the Philippines, the graduation robe is usually called a “toga.”

In the United States and in the Philippines, graduation is an expensive time for the parents, who pay the bills. In April 2012, the Philippines new media reminded parents to be cost conscious of the expenses surrounding graduation. Even government officials were making statements to suggest to parents to tone down the expenses for the ceremonies. One columnists in a newspaper reminded parents not to seek the services of loan sharks for the money for their children’sgraduation exercises.

It is human nature that parents want the best for their children and traditionally parents go the extra mile to provide for their children. Naturally, common sense and budget should go hand in hand for the graduation season.

The High School Graduation ceremony in any country rates right up there alongside the Wedding.

A Wedding involves two people undergoing a monumental change in life.

A High School Graduation involves the individual undergoing a monumental change in life.

Granted, a person may have a College or University Graduation, but, by the time an individual gets to this point in life, they may already be married or be raising a family.

The High School Graduation or High School Commencement Exercise is the ceremony that should remind the individual that they stand at the brink of their life. From this point on, every decision you make in life will be a responsibility that you will have to live with.

Glen The Gaduate ! Glen Roa is flanked by family members, after his high school graduation. Back Row: Vanissa Saldana, Ranyiel Saldana, Mac Mac Roa, Glen, and Gilbert Roa. Kneeling in front: Ranillo Saldana and Chrismar Roa. Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

To the people ready to walk down the aisle toward Graduation, check your budgets for those class rings, caps and gowns. (You might still be able to get mom and dad to spring for a few bucks to make the day or the events surrounding graduation memorable.)

To the people, who put their hands out and receive those high school diplomas:

“Congratulations, Graduate!”

My nephew, Glen Roa, graduated in March. Now, he is a student at Eastern Visayas State University.


Written by samwarren55

May 30, 2012 at 2:04 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

Life On Fast Forward

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by Samuel E. Warren Jr

Coconut Commando Cruisers On Station On A Leyte Beach — Give a retired American G.I. a camera and the simplest moments in life become a Pentagon picture. Actually, these fishing boats reside on a Leyte beach, near Tacloban City, in the Republic of the Philippines. Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

When a man and a woman retire to a tropical island in the South Pacific to sit under the coconut trees, they look forward to laying back on the beach and feeling the warm sunshine on their faces. They want to stare up at an azure sky with cotton ball clouds and feel the cool breeze sweep over the waves of the sapphire ocean. Wiggle their toes in the gold dust sand. “Ah. Retirement. Umm. Hallelujah. Thank you, God.”

That maybe what we wanted. Welcome to life and reality.

China calls the waves of water – the South China Sea. The Republic of the Philippines calls the waves of water – the Western Philippine Sea. A piece of land in this part of the Pacific is called Scarborough Shoals.

The Republic of the Philippines and China have both laid claim to the small area of real estate in the ocean. Diplomats are working on the issue.

Meanwhile, in Leyte, in the Republic of the Philippines, at One Warren Way – it is “Summer.” The 23 nieces and nephews are out of school. Most of the nieces and nephews are spending their summer with Tita Christy and Tito Sam.

May is Fiesta Month in the Republic of the Philippines. This motorcyclist travels under the banner announcing the fiesta for Barangay Cameri, Leyte, Republic of the Philippines. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E Warren Jr.

The household goods packed up on December 16, 2011 in Galena, Missouri, actually were put on board an ocean-going vessel. It should have been a cargo ship, but, based on the condition of the furniture that arrived, the vessel might have been a Soviet fishing trawler from the days of the Cold War that tried to run a naval blockade somewhere on the high seas. At any rate, the beaten, bruised, battered boxes did arrive in the Port of Manila and where eventually trucked to Tacloban City, where a local shipping company, did carry the goods to our front door.

Even before, we began unpacking, the fact that May is Fiesta month in the Republic of the Philippines took hold. April 20, 2012, Christy opened the CSW Cafe at 128 Independencia Street in Tacloban City, so she has kept busy making sure her Filipino buffet style cafe has delicious food to offer her customers.

Meanwhile, back home, in Barangay Baras, at One Warren Way, the nieces and nephews were in a dance mode. The Patrick Swazye, “Dirty Dancing” movie and the Kevin Bacon, “Footloose” movie gave them some ideas for a dance routine to the Barangay Cameri Fiesta. I have done my best to keep double A batteries in a compact digital camera and to keep my Nikon charged because kids are “Non-stop Photo Opportunities.”

Rice farmers and coconut farmers in Barangay Cameri, Leyte, Republic of the Philippines, take a break for a few days to host what Americans would call a county fair to meet, socialize and party with family,friends, neighbors and visitors at the Barangay Cameri Fiesta. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Unfortunately, my blogs, the Sam I Am Blog, and the Samuel Warren The Writer blog have collected dust in the electronic archives of the Internet since Life in the Real World seems to have gone to Fast Forward, during the month of May.

And, just when, I think, I can finally set down at the keyboard and pound out some poetic prose, the Internet connection drops out. The tall bamboo pole still stands with the waffle device pointed up into the sky. But, before the electronic bits reconnect the system, a couple of squads of costumed she males parade along the barangay road and the barangay hosts the 2012 Miss Gay beauty pageant.

Plus, the nieces and nephews take center stage and dance their way into the hearts of fiesta attendees. Keep the faith, dear readers, “Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise” and hopefully in a day or so I should have some poignant prose to publish to my blogs. “Now, where did I put that compact flash card with the fiesta photos ?” Got it.

People line the road going to and from the Barangay Cameri Fiesta. The pervasive heat of the Republic of the Philippines gives the day an Ozarks flavor or sauntering along and taking your time to enjoy the day and company of family and friends. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Happy Fiesta ! While these two Filipino men smile at the American photographer strolling down the road, some others sip “Tuba,” Filipino coconut wine and chat with friends, family and neighbors. Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.


Photography Patrol – Young Man Sells Flowers at the Santo Nino Church in Tacloban City–Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Photography Patrol – Young Man Sells Flowers at the Santo Nino Church in Tacloban City–Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Young Man Sells Flowers at the Santo Nino Church in Tacloban City Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr. This young man is one of two flower vendors, who offer flowers for sale, outside the Santo Nino Church in Tacloban City, Republic of the Philippines. This photo was taken Friday, April 13, 2012. Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Photography Patrol – Lady Flower Vendor at the Santo Nino Church in Tacloban City–Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Photography Patrol – Lady Flower Vendor at the Santo Nino Church in Tacloban City–Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Lady Flower Vendor at the Santo Nino Church Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr. This woman is one of the two flower vendors, who offers flowers for sale, outside the Santo Nino church in Tacloban City. This photo was taken Friday, April 13, 2012 – “Friday the 13th,” Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

The Flagpole Quest

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by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

For 48 of my 56 years I had hoped someday to have a tall flagpole in my front yard. My wife, Christy and I moved half-way around the world to the Republic of the Philippines and in less than 48 days I had my flagpole.

Now, each morning I can have a cup of coffee and look out the window to see the flag flying in the breeze from the tall flagpole.


An orange PVC pipe is set inside a rebar framework within a plywood form for the concrete before the 20-foot pole is lowered into the PVC pipe.

Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Since I was eight years old, I always wanted a tall flagpole in the front yard. In my mind. I could see the large flag flapping in the breeze.

My dad, Samuel E. Warren, had served in the United States Army, during World War II. To me the American flag waving in the breeze from a flagpole has always symbolized, pride, patriotism, honor and devotion to duty.

Once I went on active duty in the United States Air Force, I really wanted that tall flagpole in the front yard.

But, the Real Wold intervened and the daily concerns of earning a living and putting food on the table pushed my flagpole idea into a storage room of my mind.

Home on leave and after I retired, I would get those six-foot flagpole kits and try various locations to try and give the flagpole a center stage presence, during patriotic holidays like the Fourth of July, Flag Day and Veterans’ Day. It always seemed I ended up with a flag kit that had a flag that had to be displayed at an angle.

I always kept my eye open for the tall flagpole.


I attended Veteran’s Day observances in Branson, Missouri and found tall flagpoles for sale that seemed to match up with my dream of the “Ideal Flagpole.”

The salesman even assured me that the different heights had survived recent hurricanes at different locations in the United States. But, the price tag for the flagpole was in the neighborhood of $300.

Since my wife, Christy, and I had decided to move to the Philippines, I decided it wouldn’t be wise to spend the money on a flagpole that I might not even get to use before we left the country..

We arrived in the Philippines before Christmas Day 2011. Christy’s family and friends came to visit us. As December passed into January and the New Year began, of course, we began those little home improvement touch ups to make the house feel like a home.

Our new yard had coconut trees and banana palms, instead of, rose bushes and sycamore trees. As I looked around I thought, “I think a flagpole would look good in the yard.” I mentioned the idea to Ramon about January 15, 2012. A few days later, Ramon and I went to the Leyte Sports Emporium and bought three flags.

Ramon mentioned that the local flagpoles like they were constructed of 20 foot pipe, two inches thick.

I knew from having shot photographs of flags that there had to be a way to raise and lower the flag, but I couldn’t remember how that part of the flagpole was constructed. I sketched out a rough idea on paper that involved a pulley device up near the top, but I couldn’t be sure.

In our quest to learn about flagpoles, we sought out the type of rope to use. In the States, I thought the line was a white type of rope. In Leyte, we visited different hardware stores, but could only find colored nylon lines in orange, green and blue. I had noticed that some of the local government flagpoles had the blue nylon line.

Since neither Ramon or I had ever built a flagpole we had questions, but not many answers. One evening when Peter, Ramon, Marife, Christy and I were passing through Tanauan, I saw the sign : PULIS.

A1A_Across the bridge the Police sign is obvius to  pedestrians and motorists_8034_resized

Across the bridge from the Tanauan Public Market, the PULIS sign is visible to motorists and pedestrians.  Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

As a child, in the United States, my father and mother had friends in the Houston Police Department in Texas, so I grew up respecting and trusting police officers. I saw the flagpole in front of the police station, so I suggested to Ramon we visit the police station.  A1 TANAUAN POLICE STATION_8035_resized

A glance at the police station, during a late Sunday afternoon drive shows the flagpole in front of the station..  But to see the specifics, you need to be closer to look at the flagpole.  Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

We explained to the police officers that we were trying to build a flagpole but were not certain of how to arrange things to be able to raise and lower the flag. They smiled and were very helpful at explaining how their flagpole was set up.

Ramon rented an arc welder and a welding helmet and set to work welding the pulley to one end of the flagpole,  PULLEY WELDED AT THE TOP OF THE FLAGPOLE_7963_resizedThen, Professionals who build flagpoles for a living probably have the designs that work best for them.  In our flagpole, the pulley is welded to a rebar rod that is welded to the side of the 20-foot pole at the top.  Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.


The blue nylon line passed through the pulley allows you to easily raise and lower the flag.  Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.


The curved rebar rod welded to the flagpole is in a shape that reminds you of an angel’s harp or a pork chop.  But, welded near the bottom of this flagpole the design provides plenty of room to use the rope to tie down the lines.  Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Ramon finished the flagpole by welding a piece of rebar near the bottom to tie the flag lines to. By January 31, the flagpole had already been set in concrete.

My childhood dream had come true.

I had a flagpole in the front yard. When we first began talking about the idea, my nephews and nieces gave me a puzzled look. While there are numerous flagpoles in the yards of families in the United States; the idea really hasn’t taken off, yet, in the Philippines.

We got the flags and the nylon lines, then, the nephews and nieces seemed more excited about the idea. Thanks to all those protocol sergeants and officers I worked with over the years, I explained to the nieces and nephews that there were proper ways to display a flag and suggested they should go online to research flag protocol.

Once the flagpole was set up among the banana palms, guava and coconut trees even the kids smiled. Of course, there was only one thing left to do: “Raise The Flag.”

RAISE THE COLORS_8424_resized

“Ten-hut !”  I got my tall flagpole in the front yard.  And my nieces and nephews got a flagpole to proudly display their nation’s colors.  Because the lessons of patriotism that I learned from my father and the military is a citizen should always be proud of who he or she is and be grateful to the nation that he or she grows up in.  Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Written by samwarren55

February 28, 2012 at 11:30 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

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