The Declaration of Independence

In Congress, July 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen

united States of America

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When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of earth, the separate and equal station to which the powers of the earth, the separate station to which the Laws of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which compel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness -- That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their powers from the consent of the governed, -- That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes, and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpation's, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and provide new Guards for their future security. -- Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpation's, all having in direct the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

. . .

He has refused his assent to Laws, the most wholesome and

necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing

importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should

be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

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He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts

of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation

in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

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He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and

distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing

them into compliance with his measures.

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He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly

firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

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He has refused for a long time, after such dissolution's, to cause others to be elected;

whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People

at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed

to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsion within.

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He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing

the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their

migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

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He has obstructed the Adminstration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

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He has made judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

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He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hithe4 swarms of the Officers to harrass our people, and eat of their substance.

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He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the consent of our Legislatures.

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He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

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He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our cobstitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

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For Quartering large bodies of Armed troops among us:

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For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

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For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

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For imposing taxes on us without our Consent:

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For depriving us in may cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury: etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

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Shining Bright

Well, I found another letter I had written to the editor of our local paper. I have to write, whether anyone reads it or not. This letter is in response to a wonderful young man who lives in our community. He built a large cross and mounted it on one of the foothills south of town. He hauled a generator up there and each Easter and Christmas it is lighted for all to see. This appeared on our opinion page on December 24, 2003.

At this place in time when Christianity is in such disfavor, when "under God" is being restricted from the Pledge of Allegiance, when the Ten Commandments are not allowed in a courthouse which enforces the laws inspired by this same Ten Commandments, a time I never thought I would see in this United States of America, I would like to to thank the people, organizations, and communities that have lighted crosses for all to see and reflect upon.

Thank you, Don Larson of Cashmere, Christians in Action of Okanogan and Omak, Randy Smith of wenatchee, Dryden Community Church and LOnnie and Judy Wagoner of Peshastin. And thank you, Wenatchee world for telling us of these people, organizations, and communities.

I am proud to live in an area that still shows respect of God and community. Thank you, all of you.

Daddie

My relationship with my father was, to say the least, complicated. I inherited his personality and temperament along with his red hair. My parent's friends called me Little Red, insisting I was a carbon copy.
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As a baby - toddler-preschooler I could do no wrong. My Daddie was my hero and I was his baby girl. When ever my Mother would try to discipline me, Daddie would intervene, determined that I should always have my own way. He was proud of my "spunk", my "spirit". He thought my little tantrums were cute.
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I was born at the end of the depression, in 1933. My Dad worked for 20 cents an hour and we scrimped a lot, but we really didn't mind because everybody was pretty much in the same boat. We didn't have many luxuries, an orange in my Christmas stocking was a treasured prize. I tell you this so so you will understand the sacrifice my father made for me.
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As he was walking home from work one day, he walked past the Sassy Shop, a very swanky store for women and girls. He saw in the window, the most beautiful red silk dress. I was probably four or five years of age, but I still remember that dress. It was a stupid, impulsive thing for him to do, but he did it. He bought me that dress, for no reason, it wasn't Christmas or my birthday or even Easter. He just knew when he saw it that I had to have it. He made $1.60 a day, $8.00 a week, and he spent $10.00 for one dress for his daughter. I wrote a poem about it, titled, "The Red Silk Dress". It can be found in my earlier posts, in March.
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Time went by and suddenly I was a school girl, and this fact was supposed to miraculously transform me into an obedient, well mannered young lady. My hero father now expected me to put away childish things. Wrong! We clashed. My will was every bit as strong as was his. I demanded to have my own way, in the manner to which I had become accustomed. Experience had taught me that if I yelled loud enough, stamped my foot hard enough, pressed my point long enough, I would wear them down and get my own way. They would bow to my wished.
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Daddie and I fought daily, he would try to make me behave and I would stand my ground He would try to make me clean my plate and I refused, tried to get me to go to bed and I stamped my foot and said "NO!" I felt terribly abused and burdened by just having to live in the same house. When I was fourteen, I got my first job, packing cherries. We had to stand in one place by a conveyor belt and pack the first two layers uniformly, then fill the box with loose cherries. This meant constant twisting and swaying from side to side, contributing to sore muscles that weren't used to being exercised. I was so tired after my first day at work, that I went right to my room, flopped on top of my bed and slept until I was awakened by my father's angry voice. "That girl has got to learn that she is not the only person on earth, and that she owes courtesy to those around her!" I came out to find my parents at the dinner table, wondering where I had gone after work. Daddie was already mad; and it didn't take me long to catch up. I ruined dinner, and the evening, but I had my say.
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On June 1, 1079, we found out Daddie had a malignant brain tumor. It affected his balance, speech and vision. He lost tremendous amounts of weight. He fell down constantly and my 74 year old Mother couldn't lift him. I stopped by one afternoon to find he had fallen on the front porch and Mom was trying desperately to help him stand. I picked him up in my arms as though he were a child, and carried my own father into the house and put him on the sofa. Then I went outside and cried.
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For the remainder of the month , and into July, Daddie and I just sat and talked, had some wonderful conversations and I really enjoyed him for the first time since I had been a toddler.
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On July 5, we finally got a bed for him in a Nursing Home, right across the street from my house, so I visited him every day. By this time he was unable to talk much because of the pain medication, but he knew I was there.. On the 19th, I went to the hairdresser to get a perm. On the way home, I had to go to the bathroom so I planned on stopping in the house to take care of my business, then visit Daddie. As I got closer to home, something told me that the bathroom could wait, and I went directly to the Nursing Home.
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"We've been trying to reach you. Your father is dying," the nurse said as I entered the lobby. I walked to his room, he already looked dead, as though skin had been stretched over bones with nobody inside. I was the only family member present. My Mom had reluctantly agreed to go on an outing with her church ladies. I called my brother and he and my sister-in-law arrived too late. Daddie went before their arrival. Regretting all those hate filled years, I sat by his side and held his hand for his final moments on earth.

What Is Apple Blossom?

You've heard of Apple Blossom Christmas
and Apple Blossom Mouse,
the selection of a pretty queen
and no rooms left in the house.
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We've talked about the cruisers
and the confusion they create,
the girl who called me "Witch"
and the girls in two-sixty-eight.
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I've shared with you these stories,
all in meter and rhyme,
so what else is there to tell you
about Apple Blossom Time?
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There are lots of wholesome activities
and a Coronation Ball.
We even have a carnival,
there's fun for one and all.
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There's a horse show and a rock show,
a Junior and grand Parade.
Vendors set up in the park
and there they ply their trade.
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You can drink and get arrested,
you can even find a fight,
or like me, you can watch the cruisers,
(an awe inspiring sight!)
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It's not a time for sleeping
or for getting anything done,
it's a time of recreation,
so relax and have some fun.

The Man On The Train

When invited to my first Poetry Convention, I was intimidated at the thought of meeting with Real Poets. I never thought of my self as a poet, I had no talent, I was just having fun with words. Surely those who had sent the invitation had made a mistake, they didn't mean me! My husband tried to persuade me to go, my friends also tried to convince me

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Eventually they wore me down, and I agreed to go, all alone, on a train. Surprisingly, I had a wonderful time. When it came time for me to introduce myself and read what I had written, I could not do as the others, saying "I am John Smith, and I am a poet." Instead I said, simply, "My name is Ella Dillon.' They asked, "Are you a poet?" I hesitantly responded, "No"

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When I registered for the convention, they attached a plastic bracelet to my wrist, similar to those provided when you enter a hospital. The purpose being to identify me as part of the convention and get me into all of the activities. After several days at the convention it began to irritate my wrist and I had no way of removing it. On the train going home (four days),I kept fiddling with it, finally, turning to the lady sitting next to me, I asked if she had a fingernail clipper I might borrow to clip it off. She gave me one and asked "Have you been in the hospital?", I replied that I had been at a poetry convention in New York.

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"Are you a poet?" she asked.

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"Not really, I just play with words."

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"I'd like to hear something you have written." So, I began reciting a couple of my favorites from memory.

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The man seated in front of us turned and said, "Excuse me for eavesdropping. If I may I'd like to read some of your work. Would you mind?"

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Standing, I retrieved my briefcase from the overhead compartment and handed it to him, saying. "Here, be my guest." He opened the briefcase and began reading. My seatmate and I continued our conversation.

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After several hours, the gentleman again turned and said, "This is pretty good. You should seek out a publisher. I know what I'm talking about, I am a syndicated journalist."

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"Thank you very much for the compliment, but I don't think anyone would take what I write seriously. I just do it for fun. I'm not even a very good writer, let alone a poet."

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"No, I'm serious. I guarantee you, if you do as I say, your whole life will change. Retype a few of these, especially those you have written about people you care deeply about, put them in a binder and send them to a publisher with a cover letter. Then write to me when you have done so. I don't care if you ever get published, I just want to know that you've made the effort. Promise me you'll think about it."

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Embarrassed, I said I'd think about it. Some time later, we arrived in Haver, Montana, and were told that we would be there a while if we'd like to get off and stretch our legs. I got off the train and was admiring an old steam engine that was on display, when I heard a voice behind me say, "I wanted to prove that I was who I said I was." and he handed me a newspaper clipping with his picture and name on an article he had written. "I put my current address in Vancouver, B.C. and the address to which I will be moving, September 15, in Washington, C.C., Please do as I say, and let me know when you have done it."

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I have since been to 17 more poetry conventions, and to the Maui Writers Conference. I have won trophies and awards, $19,00.00 in cash award and grants. I own my own small press, publishing company where I published three magazines, Portals, A Quarterly Showcase for Poets, Penny~A~Liner, fiction and other articles and Vignettes, for true experiences. I have written three books, and co-written one and published 10 books for other people.

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I have been feted twice by the Borough of Audubon, New Jersey, received a proclamation from the mayor of that town, for encouraging young poets. I have been acknowledged for my encouragement in five books by other writers, written a foreword in one book and a preamble in another, I will have a piece included in a book by Dean Koontz, this fall. Has my life changed? You bet it has.

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Who was the man on the train? I have no idea. I have his name and photograph and by-line on an article he has written. I wrote him when my first book was published and sent him as copy of the book with a dedication to "The Man On The Train". He never responded. When I attended my second convention in Washington, D.C, I wrote explaining who I was and when and where I'd be in the Capitol, and invited him to meet me for lunch as my guest. He never responded. Was he real ? . . .I have proof . . . Who was he ?. . .Was he an Angel ? . . .Sent by God ? . . . Did I imagine him ? . . . Did he change my life? Your answer is as good as mine.

Grandma's Tin Cup (true story)

It was a warm, dry, sunny day. A slight breeze helped cool the air as it stirred up dust devils. The two young boys, Ray and Chuck, were playing in Grandma's back yard. They were such curious, adventuresome, creative little boys, they were not allowed to play in the fenced front yard where there was lawn . . . and flowers. The back yard was dry and dusty, the boys were dusty and dirty, and not allowed to come into Grandma's clean house each time they wanted a drink of water. So, she provided a tin cup, which hung on the water spigot under the tree in the back yard to satisfy their thirst.

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They spent hours building roads, and driving their toy cars to the sound of "Vrooom, vroooom, screeeech, vrooom!", making frequent trips to the water spigot . . .and the tin cup. Old Blue, Grandpa's huge Australian Shepherd, lay in the shade of the big old maple tree, watching, occasionally meandering over to check out the construction of their roads, "No! Blue, go on! You wrecked my road! Now I have to start all over!" Blue would amble off to the tree, and drop heavily to the shady ground, with an "uummph" of air being forced from his lungs.

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As boys of that age 5 and 6, do, they soon tired of the game and began playing with the tin cup, throwing water on each other, running, laughing and turning their dusty overalls to mud. Chuck took a bathroom break, running to the outhouse, back by the combination tool shop and garage.

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When he emerged, the tin cup did not emerge with him. "Where's my Grandma's tin cup?" demanded Ray. "I dropped it down the hole." Chuck responded casually.

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"That's my Grandma's tin cup!" Ray yelled "You gotta get it back!" Thus saying, he dragged Chuck (who was a chunky little 5 year old, Ray was a bit taller and slimmer), back into the outhouse, put him headfirst into the hole, holding him by the feet, while Chuck fished around in the smelly contents of the hole for Grandma's tin cup.

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"Don't you drop me! It stinks down here! It's dark, and there are spiders! I can't find the darned old cup! Pull me out!"

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"Not until you get my Grandma's tin cup!"

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"It's not here. I can't see. It's dark down here! It sunk! Pull me up!"

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"No! We have to find Grandma's tin cup! She'll kill us!

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'If you don't pull me out right now, I'm gonna tell!" Chuck whined. "My head is starting to hurt! I'm dizzy!"

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"Don't be a baby! You dropped it, you gotta get it back!"

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"I'm gonna tell my Mama on you You'll be in big trouble! Get meee out of heeere! Wait! Oh my gosh! Here it is! I foouund it!"

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Ray pulled him out, with some difficulty, and when they exited the outhouse, they were both covered with slime from head to toe. Ooze dripped from their hair, it was in their eyes, noses. and ears, causing them to resemble something from the black lagoon. Just then, Grandpa arrived in his old green Essex. Seeing the boys, he began to laugh, "What in the world have you kids been up to? . . . don't move! Stay put!" . . . he connected the hose to the spigot and attempted to wash the worst of it off. Blue thought this looked like great fun and tried to join the party. He jumped and dodged and cavorted through the spray from the hose. He bounced and rubbed against the boys, and was soon wet and shaggy, and smelly too.

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Grandma, hearing the squealing boys, the barking dog, and her husband roaring with laughter, came out to see what was going on. "Chuckie lost your tin cup in the toilet, Grandma, and I made him get it back!"

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"Why child, you could have drowned your cousin! - - -For an old tin cup! George, put down the hose and go get the wash tub. Boys, take off your clothes and put them in the wash tub when Grandpa gets back with it. I'll go get some towels. You're not coming into my house till you get that smelly stuff off you!" Grandpa arrived with the tub, the boys put their clothes into the tub. They hosed off some more, then dried off with the towels handed to them by Grandma.

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"Thank you, boys, for the responsible way you took care of my property, but don't you ever do that again! George, go get Rose and tell her what these boys have been up to. Have her bring over some clean clothes. I'll take the boys in and get them bathed properly."

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Grandpa walked next door to his daughter-in-law's house, and laughingly, told of the boy's heroic efforts on behalf of Libby's tin cup."That's terrible, Pop. Chuck could have been suffocated! Ugh! They must smell awful! Are you sure they aren't hurt?"

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"No, Rosie, they're fine. A bit excited is all. Libby is giving them a bath, they'll need some clean clothes. That Raymond of yours is pretty conscientious with other peoples property for just 6 years old. Not too concerned with his cousin's welfare, though."

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As they walked next door, to the scene of the crime, Rose got a mental picture of the events and started to giggle. "I'm sorry for laughing, are you sure they're all right?" Grandpa reassured her, then grabbed Blue to clean and dry him off, as Rose walked to the kitchen, where the boys were standing, toweling off. Rose handed them the clean clothes and tried hard not to laugh as they dressed. As soon as they finished dressing, they ran back outside to play. Rose turned to her mother-in-law,

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'Thanks, Mom, for cleaning them up. Ethel is so fastidious, she will die when she finds out how her son spent the afternoon. Are you going to gild that cup and save it with the rest of your souvenirs?""

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"That cup has already been retired to its final resting place, we don't need it around to remind us of this little episode!"

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Grandma and Grandpa are both gone now, as is my Mother, Rose, and my Aunt Ethel. My brother, Ray, and my cousin, Chuck, now 70 and 80, respectinely, still sputter and turn red when this story is told. Neither of them knew until much, much later that Grandma eighty-sixed the valuable tin cup the moment they were out of sight.

A Smile Will Do

I can't believe the lengths to which

you go to get some flowers.

It's not necessary 'cause

your smile alone has wond'rous powers.

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There was no need to break your leg

just to get attention

you didn't have to suffer because,

if I just might mention,

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your smile is like a rainbow

which spans the clear, blue sky

or like a dip of ice cream

on a piece of pumpkin pie.

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You have a loving nature

and a strong sense of fair play

which causes all who know you

to treasure each new day,

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in which we are greatly honored

to fall beneath your spell

as we strive for ways to please you

by doing all things well.

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So, honey, please be careful,

relax, let your bones heal.

And we'll still get you flowers

'cause our love for you is real.