Off the Cuff
by
Don Johnson
Off the Cuff
by
Don Johnson
Any opinions expressed in this book are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of anyone else. You may feel free to agree or disagree via
[email protected] Copyright 2012 Don Johnson
Off the Cuff is a collection of essays originally printed in The County Gazette a monthly publication published by JBS Publishing Company, Inc. We’d like to introduce you to Don Johnson’s prolific, easy going style that has brought him laurels from thousands of readers. Enjoy!
— JBS
What you'll find in this book:
This book consists of a series of essays on Life
They are written from a single perspective, mine.
What this means is that it will be extremely unlikely that we will agree on everything discussed here. You will see things from your own perspective.
My perspective is colored by several different things. One is age. I am now an old man. I have probably been lied to by more politicians, college professors, merchants, colleagues and other folks than you have. I have also been given more profound truths by a similar group — often by the very same ones.
I also owe a large part of my perspective to geography. I am, for a large part, a creature of the area in which I live. I grew up in the Southwestern United States, primarily Texas. I have tried living elsewhere, but it just didn't take. I have never felt really comfortable living anywhere else. I'm sure that this has had a profound effect on the perspective from which I view everything.
I give you the liberty to do the same with your own perspective. If you would like to agree or disagree with my view on any subject, I welcome your email.
I also include some promotional material on books I invite you to purchase and hopefully enjoy. I know, I know, but after all, this book is free. Right? And, I've kept the price low on all my books. That's the beauty of the ebook format. It's not very costly. But I put in just as much sweat and effort as in a print book. I think you'll like them. If not, it won't cost you much to find out.
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All books recommended in this document can be accessed at:
A Bottle of Milk To Grandma
The importance of almost anything is relative to how you perceive it— your perspective, if you will. Thus a happening may seem of vital importance to one person, but to another, seem of little consequence. That’s the way it was with my very first memory of life.
I was about two years of age — just walking good —and I clutched a quart bottle of milk to my chest as my sturdy little legs carried me over the broken sidewalk on a vital mission.
I was to transport said milk from my parents home to the cafe owned and operated by my grandparents in downtown Devol, Oklahoma in a building that had once been the downtown bank. There they served up beefsteak for 35 cents, a plate lunch for 15 cents, and hamburgers for a nickel.
My favorite spot on earth was a perch atop a stool at the lengthy bar from which I could order my favorite breakfast — a short stack.
But now, my grandmother needed milk, and I had been entrusted to deliver it to her. My face was set and determined as I considered the gravity of my mission. Then a piece of the broken sidewalk skittered under my none-too-sure footing.
Clutching my precious cargo even tighter, I plunged face down on the concrete where the milk bottle shattered into a gazillion shards of glass, one of which penetrated my lower lip to emerge on the inside of my mouth. I carry the scar to this day.
I hardly noticed it at the time as I was overcome by shame at the disgrace of having broken an entire quart of milk on which my grandmother had waited in vain.
To my grandparents and my parents, who must have been watching me from the window, the milk was nothing — a trifle. They were concerned with me, and my cut lip.
I, on the other hand, didn’t understand all the fuss being made about such a small thing in the wake of the monumental failure of my mission and the waste of a whole quart of milk.
From the perspective of a casual bystander, neither event was very important.
The milk was replaced and my lip healed. In the long haul, neither was vital in the context of our lives.
I suppose the biggest lesson one could learn from such an incident is to not place undo importance on, either our failures, nor our successes in life. Likely neither are as earth shattering nor as meaningful as we might think at the time. It all depends on your perspective.
What really matters is how we react to whatever life throws at us. It might be wise to evaluate every situation from as many angles as possible. It might look entirely different from a new perspective.
-END-
Heroes Died Here.
In early March of 1836, a legend was established that will endure as long as anyone still believes that liberty is worth fighting for — and dying for. I think it’s worth recounting today.
A sign on the entrance to a tiny chapel in downtown San Antonio reads simply, “Quiet Please. Heroes Died Here.”
Today, there is talk of sports heroes, business heroes, and other pseudo heroes. Unfortunately, that tends to make us forget that there are, and always have been, real heroes— people who dare to put themselves in terribly hazardous circumstances for a cause they believe worthy. The men of the Alamo fit that description.
The Alamo, originally defended by 150 men, mostly Texians, but also Americans, Scots, Englishmen, and Texas-Mexicans, was besieged by 5,000 Mexican troops commanded by General Santa Anna, self-styled “Napoleon of the West.”
These men were not trapped there. They could have left at any time. The Mexican net was not tight around them. Couriers came and went on horseback right up to the end. Yet, they stayed and stubbornly fought an army many times their number to a virtual standstill. Their heroic efforts gave Sam Houston 13 precious days to gather an army for what would be the final showdown at San Jacinto the next month.
Not only did the original defenders stay, but 32 Texians gathered at Gonzales, and in an incredible show of courage, decided that William Travis deserved to know that his appeal had been heard. Even though they knew that no more help would be coming, they marched to San Antonio, fought their way inside the mission and died with the rest of the defenders.
James Bonham, after delivering the last Travis message, turned his mount back toward San Antonio. Others begged him to not throw his life away. He replied that Col. Travis would be needing an answer, spat on the ground and galloped into immortality.
Santa Anna was furious at the delay in taking the Alamo. He demanded immediate results, not knowing of a British Army manual that stated that fortified American riflemen could be frontally assaulted only at unacceptable cost. He raised the red flag of “No Quarter,” the band broke into the “Deguello,” a blood-tune dating back to Moorish days. Officers shouted the command that had long sent into action the dreaded Spanish massed infantry, “Adelante!”
The columns that swept down on the Alamo were not made up of peasant conscripts, but were the cream of a highly trained cadre of professional soldiers. The defenders could hardly be called soldiers, but they were made up of men who were, as Historian T. R. Ferenbach called them, “the most successful predators ever seen on the North American continent.” The assault was infantry in columns, bearing scaling ladders. It was textbook Napoleonic tactics.
However, neither Napoleon nor Santa Anna had ever attacked American riflemen ensconced behind high walls. The massed troops stumbled into a hail of lead from the defenders’ long rifles.
Hundreds died in the first assault. Again and again, the Mexican troops surged forward and were thrown back. Finally, wit
h all four walls breached, the determined leadership of a handful of junior officers took the troops into the courtyard. Here, no longer fighting to win, the defenders charged into groups of Mexicans determined to kill as many as they could.
T. R. Ferenbach said that Mexican troops had known bravery, even cruelty, and understood both, but they had never before encountered the sheer ferocity of the Trans-Appalachian American. With feet, hands and head butts, the defenders fought until dead. None survived.
The bells of San Fernando were ordered rung in honor of the “Mexican victory.” But, they rang over a shattered army. The assault shock force lost 670 killed out of 800. Other battalions lost about 25% of their total strength. In all, 1,600 Mexican troops were killed in the battle. On March 6, as Santa Anna penned a report of the “glorious victory,” Colonel Juan Nepomuceno was heard to murmur, “Another such ‘victory’ and we are undone.”
Here, for the first time, was heard the shuddery whisper that later became legendary in Mexico, “los diablos tejanos.” While they may have been the “devil Texans” to an oppressive Mexican government, lovers of freedom maintain a shrine for them that says, “Heroes died here.”
-END-
A Book I Think You'll Enjoy
Brasada
by Don Johnson
“... an authentic look at the power and passion of the great Lone Star State 150 years ago. Will not disappoint.” — Deana James, author
“This is an action-packed story of tough folks caught up in the turbulence and violence of Southwest Texas at the close of the Civil War." — San Angelo Standard-Times
“Johnson’s nicely crafted novel follows the fate of three Confederates who end up with the gold from a shipment of cotton.” — Dallas Morning New
... an inspiration to any budding western writer. Great story, great characters and fascinating history.” — Jerry Patterson, author...
"This is a real page-turner ... everything a fan of western fiction could want — Read The West