In anticipation of a Summer full of fireworks

This coming Wednesday we celebrate the Fourth of July, Independence Day. We achieved our "freedom" from England with the help of the French, aided by Spain and a number of other "foreign powers." It remains to be seen how much "foreign powers" less friendly to our continued independence have influenced recent presidential contests. But, we can look back at some other presidents as a basis of comparison.

Dwight D. Eisenhower was the Republican president from 1953 to1961. Before that he was general of the army. The following photo is from his grave site memorial. Can you imagine recent Republican presidential candidates proclaiming anything similar?

Eisenhower was preceded as president by Harry S. Truman, a moderate Democrat who served from 1945 to 1953. He was noted, among other things, for a number of laudable quotes as well as "The buck stops here" sign in his office. Can you imagine any recent Republican candidate having such a sign in his/her office?

We'd be entirely willing to trade the kind of "progress" represented by our cell phones, internet connections, and the current regime in Washington, D.C., for leadership with the kind of integrity we used to have. What's happened, America? The "Plane Wreck at Los Gatos" happened in 1948, during Truman's presidency. How is it that we seem more able to hang onto the evil than the good in us?

Deportee
(aka. "Plane Wreck at Los Gatos")

Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Martin Hoffman

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning,
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;
They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back again

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;
You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane,
All they will call you will be "deportees"

My father's own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he made in his life;
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the truck till they took down and died.

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract's out and we have to move on;
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we died just the same.

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "They are just deportees"

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except "deportees"?

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