Straight From The Hart

This is a tale of three soldiers. All of them have different life stories which are intertwined with each other because all of them have to do with the current President of the United States. First, there is Marine Sgt. Andrew Tahmooressi who spent seven months in a Mexican jail, including several torture sessions. He had served two tours of duty in Afghanistan and was credited with saving the life of at least one fellow soldier and was promoted on the battlefield. He was discharged honorably in 2012. In May of 2014, he took a wrong turn because of confusing road signs and ended up in Mexico instead of San Diego, and was arrested and placed in jail there where he was mistreated so badly he was afraid he was going to die. His mother and others continually asked the President to help him but the President refused to even mention his name or talk to his family. He was finally released in November 2014 due to the efforts of several American citizens, including U.S. Representative...

My column from today's newspaper:\ Wake Up, Mr. President Wake up, Mr. President. You’ve got to stop hitting the snooze button. You had a good long night’s sleep but morning is coming. By the way, we know you had a good dream because you talked in your sleep for over an hour Tuesday night and it was so funny. Just wait until I tell you the silly things you said. You will love this one. You actually said the shadow of crisis was over. You are so good with words. I can’t believe you messed this one up. A shadow is a dark shape that appears on a surface when someone moves between the surface and a source of light. Our national crisis is real and highly visible to all of us. You are the only one seeing the shadow because you yourself are blocking the light by not being truthful with the American people. Then you said that our greatest national challenge was global warming. I know you meant to say the threat of Islamic terrorism.. Sometimes dreams can be really silly,...

The Class of 61 We started out early that morning in ’49; Twas our first day of school, we were feeling so fine. Leaving parents and siblings for an adventure so new; Who could have guessed where it would lead us in 2002? Country schools now long gone, names like Detherage and Bolles At High Prairie and Bacon, we answered the rolls. Phillipsburg and Washington, we walked down gravel lanes There was Dry and Dusty, what was it called when it rained? Some started out at Adams, Oh, the memories we share; Gathered in lines up the staircase, for our day to prepare. Harry Truman was President, most cars were still black; TVs? – we didn’t have them, didn’t know there was a lack Of things we would soon find we couldn’t live without; Life was simpler and slower, of this there’s no doubt. First strangers, then best friends, we soon made our way To our groups and our cliques, though some changed day by day. There were teachers we loved, and I fear some we hated; Others were thought...

By   CHRISTOPHER DE VINCK Jan. 7, 2015 6:55 p.m. ET 39 COMMENTS The new year is my 63rd, and with age I have come to understand that no matter how hard I try to hold on to the past, the images fade and will, eventually, disappear. When I was a boy my Belgian grandmother visited our home in Allendale, N.J., nearly every summer. She brought Belgian chocolates, her felt hat and thick-heeled shoes. We played cards, sang French songs and sat in the yard together. She came to my college graduation and later pushed my son in a carriage. Thirty years ago my parents and I helped her into a wheelchair and kissed her goodbye at Newark airport. The thoughtful airline worker who took hold of the chair kindly turned it around and pulled my grandmother backward toward two wide doors. The doors opened automatically. My grandmother sat in the wheelchair with her felt hat and she waved goodbye. I never saw her again. Her worn heart gave out and she died that winter. When my daughter ...