WARFARIN: THE DEATH OF ME?

By TONEY ATKINS

Warfarin, a blood-thinning clot-fighter, is designed to be a life-saver, but I’m concerned that it almost has been the death of me or, if nothing else, has wreaked havoc on my body and brain.

Little did I know that almost exactly two years ago, when I took quite a fall onto concrete and gravel after missing a shaded doorstep, the prescribed medicine (an ingredient of which the early use included rat poison) would be affecting me, physically and psychologically.


Regardless of what some people may believe, I am not a rat and I'm certain that warfarin was not given to me to thin my blood to the point of hemorrhaging to death. But I digress.


A week after the July 2010 tumble, a painfully swollen foot sent me hobbling to the emergency room, where a blood clot was discovered in my leg. After at least seven days of self-injections in the stomach area of shots valued at about $1,000, warfarin became my cross to bear for at least two years.


For those not familiar with warfarin (a generic of Coumadin), it is a pill that thins the blood to prevent clots from forming and helps to dissolve blood clots that have already formed. The purpose is to prevent clots from going to the lungs, heart and brain, avoiding heart attacks or strokes.

The patient has to be monitored by blood work at a doctor’s office or in a hospital because the warfarin levels in the blood have to be maintained at a specific level. This may mean a change in prescribed dosages from month to month, and the individual must observe eating guidelines and definitely avoid certain green vegetables and anything containing Vitamin K. Alcoholic beverages are frowned upon, and warfarin can interact with other medications.

All this became a very frightening reality to me about two weeks ago, when I could have bled out and died if I had suffered a serious cut or even if I suddenly developed internal bleeding from an ulcer or such.

Several months ago, my prescribed dosage had been increased to 5 mg. per day. After a recent blood test, it was increased to 5.5 mg. Another test indicated I should take the warfarin once a day for five days and not take it on weekends. Later, I received another phone call from my physician’s nurse saying I should return to the daily dose.

Those boring details take me to the blood check of nearly two weeks ago. I hadn’t felt truly well for some time, but I attributed that to the natural aging process since I had not changed any habits.

After the lab technician took my blood, we both noticed that where the needle had been inserted bled longer than usual but finally stopped. The blood sample was later sent to an outside lab for analysis. That was on a Tuesday afternoon.

I heard nothing from the doctor’s office on Wednesday and assumed all was okay, except for several bruises on my arm. Thursday morning, however, I received a call from the office of the complex in which I live, telling me that it was “very important” that I call my doctor immediately.

After finally being connected to the proper source, I was told that I “urgently” needed to go to the local hospital emergency room, because the test results showed that my blood was about five times thinner than it should be, or in the technician’s word, “critical.”

Needless to say, I nearly freaked out. I opened a can of turnip greens and a can of cabbage and nuked the Vitamin K-containing vegetables in the microwave. I devoured the food as I contemplated the possibilities before calling 911. After all, the test was done two days earlier. A few more minutes before calling an ambulance wouldn’t kill me – I hoped.

During my nearly six-hour visit to the ER, blood work was done, I received an injection of Vitamin K, and an ultrasound was performed to determine whether I had any blood clots. Fortunately, I was clot-free. Possibly because of my vegetable “breakfast,” my warfarin level was down, but far from being where it should be.

The doctor, who I consider to be very efficient, ordered me not to take any more warfarin until I came back to the hospital the following Monday for another blood test in the lab there. (My luck was staying true to form: My insurance would not cover the test and the cost was about $75.)

What I had thought was real drama was only beginning.

The following day, I called my physician’s office for the results of the blood work. The hospital staff had assured me those results would be sent Monday evening, but the report was nowhere to be found Tuesday afternoon at my doctor’s facility. At the nurse's request, I detailed the visit to the emergency room Thursday, what the doctor there had determined and what I was instructed to do.

The nurse apparently contacted the hospital, had a copy of the report resent and had consulted my doctor. She called me back and said my warfarin level was essentially normal and that I should resume taking the medication at double the amount of blood-thinner – 10.5 mg or 11 mg, I don’t recall exactly.

I literally shouted into the telephone: “What are you trying to do? Kill me?” Somehow, I refrained from using the expletives that were swirling in my mind.

I repeated to her that I had been taking 5.5 mg of the blood=thinner once a day for a couple of months. The prescription that she was about to call in to my pharmacist would be twice as strong, thereby making my blood twice as thin as it was when I was when ordered to go to the hospital. I was more than a little frustrated, upset and frightened about what the pills could have done to my body.

The nurse said she would talk to the doctor again and call me back. Minutes later, she called and revised the dosage down to 2.5 mg per day, which was far more reasonable to me.

Two days later, after I attempted to resume my routine, my hearing was more out of whack than usual and, even scarier, my eyesight was dim, blurry and adversely reacting to light to the extent that I could see a little inside my apartment and even less while wearing my eyeglasses and sunglasses outside. I am also having mild hallucinations in the corner of my left eye.

I have written this while wearing sunglasses because the computer screen is too bright and the print is virtually obscure, so please pardon any dramatic errors. The television screen is also hard to watch.

This major vision problem just started Thursday night. The eyesight is a little better this morning (early Monday), thank God, but I am definitely contacting a physician in case there have been serious developments that may possibly have been caused by the unintentional but prescribed overdose of warfarin. I still don’t feel normal, whatever normal is.

I share this experience because I know of other people who have to take warfarin to prevent blood clots. I urge anyone who, out of necessity, have to take this medication to be tested as per a doctor’s instructions and make sure the prescribed dosage is taken, because there can be numerous effects not outlined here.

Also, do not be afraid to question the amount of the dosage if you feel that it is unreasonable.
Several mistakes sent me to the hospital, and I do not want anyone to have to deal with the possible physical damage and the accompanying, sometimes underlying fear and concern about over dosage or even under-dosing.

My story’s ending remains uncertain. Make sure yours or a friend’s or loved one's is a happy one.

**********

BACKGROUND INFORMATION (from http://www.ehow.com/about_6524045_rat-poison-coumadin.html ):
Warfarin was developed from spoiled sweet clover hay. It was known that in some cases spoiled hay lead to livestock deaths due to hemorrhaging. Researchers at the University of Wisconsin attempted to breed a sweet clover plant that would not cause bleeding in livestock that consumed any spoiled feed made from the plant. This research isolated dicoumarol that was patented as an anti-coagulant in 1941. It was refined and synthesized as warfarin in 1948.

Warfarin was initially used as a rodenticide and rapidly became the most widely used rodent poison in the world. According to the Institute of Traditional Medicine, a 1951 attempted suicide incident where an individual consumed a large dose of warfarin but recovered lead to research concerning the use of warfarin in humans. The first human uses of warfarin, called Coumadin when used in humans, were in 1954 when President Dwight Eisenhower was treated with it after a 1955 heart attack.

Warfarin disrupts the action of vitamin K, a substance that promotes blood clotting, as it works in the body. It also disrupts a number of proteins produced by the liver that also play a part in blood clotting. In rodents this lack of blood clotting causes fatal internal hemorrhaging. In humans, with controlled doses and blood testing, the reduction in the blood clotting function reduces the possibility of some medical conditions.

Read more: Rat Poison & Coumadin | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/about_6524045_rat-poison-coumadin.html#ixzz1y7Sfz36F

THIS IS A TEST … A BOOK CHAPTER COMING, AND SOMETHING FOR GORDON LEE’s CLASS OF ‘61

This is a test posting, trying something different.

Meanwhile, watch for a chapter of my book to appear here within the next couple of weeks, with publication planned before Christmas.

Yes, soldier friend (you know who you are, LOL), I’ve been promising this for five or more years, but it’s finally coming. I’ll be publishing it and financing the project with my own money, of which I have little at present because of car, computer, health, an unexpected change of residence and other expenses and a set limited income. Donations are welcome … just kidding.

Also, in a few days, I’ll be posting an article and several items that, because of a major computer glitch, were left out of the booklet commemorating the 50-year Gordon Lee High School, Chickamauga, GA, Class of ‘61 Reunion about this time last year. Watch for that, too.

Wishing you all good health, much wealth, happiness, love and many blessings! – Toney Atkins, June 6, 2012 3:40 a.m.

PART OF MY BOOK IS COMING HERE

For those who have bugged me for days, months and years, I’m finally going to share part of my book on this blog. It’s a little steamy, so prepare your iced beverage to keep you cool. Watch for it in this spot soon. -- Toney

MOTHER'S DAY

Don't forget your mother on Mother's Day in May (May 13, 2012)!VISIONS Column

REMEMBERING MOTHER

By TONEY ATKINS

In past years, I have received a number of wonderful and inspiring phone calls and letters about what would become my annual tribute in the Daytona Times to my beautiful mother, who passed from this world on April 17, 1994.

There have been requests to repeat that tribute, at least in part, to share with those who know what it means to have lost a mother and with those who are fortunate enough to still be able to look their mothers in the eyes on Mother's Day and say, "I love you."

This year marks the 18th anniversary of my mother's death and the 18th year that I still get choked up when I pass a counter in a store stocked with Mother's Day cards - especially the giant ones, which would truly have impressed my mom.

I recently traveled back to the town in which I was born to be with my dad, who currently is going through several different health crises which threaten to take him from me, too.

During the last few months of her life, my mother pleaded with me to get closer to my earthly father and to take care of him. He and I, indeed, have bridged a terrible gap that always seemed to be between us for far too many years, so the prayers of a loving mother were answered - and I am grateful. My dad, who took tender care of Mother during her final months, and I both still miss the woman who had a tremendous impact on both our lives.

My mother is eternal now, but in a spiritual sphere where I can't pick up the telephone and call her and tell her how concerned I am about my father and to hear her words of comfort and advice. Oh, how I miss her! Oh, how I realize how much I took her for granted! Time has increased my appreciation and love for her, but she's not here for me to tell her so.

Somewhere in my belongings is the Mother's Day card I had bought ahead of time in 1994 - the first time I had gotten one in years to send early so she would get it on or before Mother's Day, not several days or a week afterwards. "Better late than never," I always said with a laugh as I excused myself and apologized when she inevitably received it late, and she always said she forgave and thanked me profusely.

I still vividly remember the night that I walked into a dimly lit room in a Georgia hospital and looked down at the shell of my mother on the bed. She appeared to be so at peace and looked so much younger than her 74 years.

An hour earlier, she had been struggling for breath as she lay in a coma on a bed in another room in the hospital, with tubes running into her nose and into her arms that seemed brutally bruised by too many intravenous needles. There were fewer of them than there had been before, because they were relatively useless now. The doctors and nurses had told my dad and me that her body was shutting down, its parts failing rapidly, and that soon the few breaths we heard rattling through the room would be silent.

They were right. Her battle with cancer, congestive heart failure and other ailments - especially the stroke that sent her to the hospital for the last time - would be over that Sunday night - three weeks to the day before Mother's Day that year.

The card she never got to see was still in Daytona Beach.

The blessing was that, at least by appearances, she died without apparent agony from the horrible pain she could have been feeling. She had suffered very much. After her last breath, even with the hospital paraphernalia still attached to her, her years of struggle melted away. As her spirit entered a realm free of suffering, her face expressed its relief.

My mother loved me - sometimes, I thought, too much. She never liked my living 550 miles away. I lived under the "curse" of being an only child and being "smothered with love."

She was an outspoken woman, even more so with age. You could always depend on her speaking her mind to anyone and everyone. If you didn't like it - tough! But most people, young and old, including the minister who preached at her funeral, loved her for her simplistic, down-to-earth qualities. They saw her goodness as well as her human frailties, and the minister made special note that she indeed was one of a kind.

My mother was proud of me. It wasn't that I could do no wrong, because she would always be the first to let me know that I often did. But whether she approved or disapproved, she tried to act as though she respected my feelings and decisions.

I was required to send her copies of the Daytona Times (and the Daytona Beach News-Journal, when I was a writer and editor there) so she could proudly show off my writings to her friends and neighbors.

Oh, the many things I miss about Mother! She was always there when I needed someone to talk to. In our long distance telephone conversations, she worried about me, concerned about whether I was eating right, whether I was staying out of trouble and always wanting to know when I was going to get married and give her a grandchild to dote over. Even though I had crossed the threshold of 50 at the time of her passing, I was always her "little boy."

Eleven years later, I still sometimes find it hard to accept that my mother and my best friend is gone and I can't tell her how I feel about her and let her know that she did a wonderful job in trying to raise a good son. (None of my character defects can be blamed on her.)

How I wish I could hug her tightly and talk to her now!

The purpose of this writing is simple. It's not just therapeutic. I hope it prompts each and every reader whose mother is still alive to stop and think about that special woman, to remember her and treasure her while she's here, especially on the upcoming Mother's Day.

Pay her a visit. Send a card. Send flowers. Give her a telephone call. Buy a gift. Make her feel special, because after all, she brought someone special into the world - you.

Most important, tell her you love her while she can still hear your voice. She'll feel good, and you will, too.

-- This tribute by former Daytona Times Assistant Editor Toney Atkins was written and published before Mother's Day, shortly after his mother's death in 1994. Slightly edited to reflect the passage of time, it is dedicated to all mothers everywhere and to the children who love and respect them.

(c) 2005, Toney Atkins / Daytona Times

COMMENTS? GO TO MY GUESTBOOK AT www.toneyatkins.com/ .

TONEY ATKINS: SOME OF WHO I AM

YOUR HOST AND EDITOR: Everyone else seemed to have a web site or blog, so I decided several years ago, why not me, too? As per my usual semi-psychotic self, I went crazy and started several sites, along with some blogs. It's like having my own newspapers or magazines. On this particular site, I share my interests, ideas, personal opinions and favorite links to news of importance and interest, along with my original writings. Some of the latter have been published solely by me and some have appeared in newspapers, including the Daytona Times in Daytona Beach, FL, and the Florida Courier, a newspaper based in Tampa. Your contributions and comments to and about this site are welcome in the guestbook at www.toneyatkins.com/   or at toneyatkins@toneyatkins.com)  . -- Toney Atkins   TONEY ATKINS:TRIVIAL STUFF   ---FAVORITE ENTERTAINERS: Too many to mention, but I remain a big fan of the late Elvis Presley, who came on the scene and impacted rock 'n roll and my love for music during my teen years. In 1972, Elvis staged one of the most dynamic and entertaining concerts in Macon, GA, that I have ever seen (and as a former entertainment writer and editor, I've seen many good entertainers). To coin an overused adjective, even without flashy lighting and special effects, he was "awesome," as those young and old who were present in the packed auditorium would testify. ---FAVORITE PASTIMES: Writing; karaoke; trying to keep up with the insane political goings-on in the U.S; watching many movies I missed when I was working as a newspaper writer/editor and part-time as a DJ-karaoke host at the same time from the early 1990s until a couple of years before retirement. ---FAVORITE TV SHOWS: "Sons of Anarchy" (FX); "Eureka" (Sci-Fi Channel); "Lost" (from start to finish on ABC);  reruns of most of the "Law and Order" and "CSI" franchises on numerous cable channels; "American Horror Story" (FX); "House" reruns on various channels; "Frasier" and "Cheers" reruns on Hallmark Channel; "The Walking Dead" (AMC); "Hell on Wheels" (AMC); and primetime news analysis shows on MSNBC. --MY RECOMMENDED "MUST-SEE" DOCUMENTARIES: Ken Burns' "The War" miniseries, PBS, DVD; "102 Minutes That Changed America" (9/11 revisited, History Channel, also on DVD); "WWII in HD" (documentary miniseries, History Channel, DVD; "The Perilous Fight: America's World War II in Color" (PBS documentary miniseries); "The Lost JFK Tapes: The Assassination" (National Geographic TV); "Woodstock Now and Then" (History Channel documentary) -- GUILTY PEASURES: Listening and dancing (usually by myself) to disco music, mentally reliving some good times in the '70s and early '80s; watching "Desperate Housewives" on TV. ---FAVORITE MOVIES AND TV MINI-SERIES (most on DVD or often on cable TV): "Avatar"; "It's a Wonderful Life"; "Forrest Gump"; "What's Up, Doc?"; "Hair"; "Independence Day"; "Star Wars"; "Rise of the Planet of the Apes"; "The Green Lantern"; "The Help"; Ken Burns' "The War" (excellent PBS documentary series about World War II, with archival footage and interviews with veterans; also available on DVD); "Band of Brothers" (HBO miniseries, reruns on the Spike channel, also on DVD); "Airplane!", "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," "As Good As It Gets," "Hairspray" (the John Travolta version); "Into The West" (TNT original series); "Mamma Mia"; "Happy Feet"; "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," "Crash" (2005, Academy Award best picture); "All the President's Men"; "Good Night, and Good Luck," "United 93," "The Polar Express," "11:14"; "Joshua"; "Armageddon"; and the 1976 chiller, the original "Carrie." ---FAVORITE SONGS (AMONG MANY): "I Will Survive" and "I Am What I Am," both by Gloria Gaynor; "Live Like You Were Dying," by Tim McGraw; "Angels Among Us" by Alabama; "You Raise Me Up" (artist unknown); "We Are Family" (Sister Sledge); "How Can I Kiss the Lips at Night (That Chew My Ass Out All Day Long) (artist unknown); "Where Am I Gonna Live (When I Get Home)" and "I'm So Miserable Without You, It's Almost Like You're Here" (Billy Ray Cyrus); "If My Nose Was Running Money (I'd Blow It All on You)" (unknown artist); "Down To Love Town," by the Originals; "Right Back To Where We Started From" (Maxine Nightingale); "Rumors" (Timex Social Club); ALSO: "Chasing Cars," "I Can Only Imagine," "I Want to Know What Love Is," "Shake Your Groove Thing" (Peaches and Herb). ---FAVORITE BOOKS: The New Testament of the Holy Bible; fiction by John Saul, Dean Koonz, early Stephen King, and, of course, my own upcoming eventual contribution to the world of literature.  ---FAVORITE SPORTS TEAMS: Atlanta Braves, the University of Georgia Bulldogs and the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga Mocs (my alma mater, where I achieved a B.S.degree in junior high education), Gordon Lee High School Trojans in Chickamauga, GA.  ---FAVORITE FOODS: Everything at Golden Corral's buffet (especially the one in Fort Oglethorpe, GA); Thickburgers and chili dogs at Hardees in Rossville, GA; burgers at Steak 'n Shake in Fort Oglethorpe; subs at the Subway north of Chickamauga-Chattanooga National Battlefield in Ft. Oglethorpe. --- FAVORITE SCREEN BEAUTIES: Meryl Streep, Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Lopez, Cameron Diaz, Helen Hunt, Holly Hunt, Queen Latifah ---FAVORITE MUSIC GENRES: Dance music from the 1940s to the present; Carolina Shag, aka East Coast beach music; country; Southern gospel; classic rock; pop and rhythm and blues from the '50s, '60s and '70s (some songs of which fit into the beach music-"Shag" category).  --- POLITICS: A good dose of liberalism mixed in with some conservatism. I'm VERY Independent where politics is concerned. More attention needs to be paid to the woes of working people (stop sending jobs overseas); Social Security for retirees and the elderly; better health care for all; continuation and improvement of Medicare and Medicade. I dislike flip-floppers and politicians who claim that they are going to change things but don't tell us exactly how they're going to do it. I'm for transparency in government and don't like to be shocked by unexpected laws and regulations that are not discussed with the public until after a bill is passed.  --- RELIGION: Non-denominational churches that preach the love of God and not politics and war. I believe God is inside all of us, not "out there" somewhere, and that His spirit flows throughout the universe He created. We just have to seek that spiritual part of us instead of relegating it to the dark reaches of our brain. Every person has the ability to tune in to the Spirit through prayer and meditation, and a belief -- in Jesus as the Son of God, for example -- can work to enrich our lives and the lives of those with whom we come into contact. Ignoring the spirit within us can bring nothing short of darkness and anti-human deeds. Love can bring miracles. Christianity is New Testament, not the Old. My favorite church is Oakwood Baptist Church in Chickamauga, GA, whose programs include helping the needy, especially in crisis situations.   SOME HOBBIES: My love for reading and writing led me into a career in journalism. My love for singing and music led me into a separate volunteer career as a karaoke singer and show host-DJ. My experience as an editor and reporter gave me an ultimate incentive to create web sites to share my ideas, along with links to favorite interests and information that I believe to be worth the attention of many. After learning that I have glaucoma and will likely be blind within a few years, I'm slowly working toward completion of a book, and I enjoy catching up on all the movies I missed during my multiple careers, I'm making extensive use of a DVD player and films that stream on the Internet. Before suffering a back injury and a slowly deteriorating condition that followed, I loved soccer, tennis, bowling and dancing. MOST ADMIRED PEOPLE:  Members of the U.S. armed forces who served in Iraq, those who are still fighting in Afghanistan and those who are stationed around the world. ALSO: I admire and respect honest journalists (especially TV news anchors, reporters, commentators, and newspaper and magazine writers who emphasize facts and speak their minds).  Hats off to the team of reporters and editorial writers with whom I began my newspaper career and worked for 15 years at the News-Journal in Daytona Beach. OTHERS GREATLY ADMIRED: Genuinely good friends (of which I have too few, which is probably my own fault). Definitely admired are true Christians who truly practice what they preach and don't leave their religion at the church doors; and everyone who spreads love and peace instead of discrimination and hate.  MY HEROES: My main heroes are members of all branches of the U.S. military; firefighters; most police officers; and school teachers, of which I was one in the late '60s and early '70s. As far as a single individual is concerned, I got to know and realize the impact of the late Charles W. Cherry Sr., a black civil rights leader in Daytona Beach, FL, who achieved much for many people. He was also the publisher for whom I was privileged to work for nearly 15 years total before my retirement at the Daytona Times, the Daytona Beach minority community's newspaper.

REMEMBER 2011; SPREAD LOVE AND PEACE IN 2012

HAPPY NEW YEAR! GOODBYE, 2011; WELCOME, 2012 -- THE YEAR OF APOCOLYPSE? WHATEVER, DON'T WASTE A MOMENT! LIVE THE BEST YOU CAN, AND SPREAD LOVE AND PEACE!!

Updates to my web site, http://www.toneyatkins.com/ will be made starting after Jan. 3, 2012. Meanwhile, here are some of my current favorite links to stories and articles that you might find to be informative and interesting:


WILL THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT END IN DECEMBER 2012?


http://science.howstuffworks.com/major-planetary-alignment-2012.htm?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+DailyStuff+%28DailyStuff+from+HowStuffWorks%29&utm_content=Google+Feedfetcher#mkcpgn=rss1

BIZARRE PREDICTIONS FOR 2012:


http://science.howstuffworks.com/nature/natural-disasters/5-year-2012-predictions.htm?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+DailyStuff+%28DailyStuff+from+HowStuffWorks%29&utm_content=Google+Feedfetcher#mkcpgn=rss1


TOP NEWS OF 2011:


http://history.howstuffworks.com/american-history/how-2011-worked.htm


http://weatherbug.myway.com/StormCentral/Page/StormCentral.aspx?zcode=z5106&story_id=13009&lid=SCT4

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/Y/YE_2011_CHRONOLOGY?SITE=AP&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/Y/YE_TOP_10_STORIES?SITE=AP&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/Y/YE_DEATHS?SITE=AP&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

OAKWOOD CHURCH PUTS CHRIST IN CHRISTIANITY

AUTHOR'S FOREWORD: When I originally wrote and posted this commentary in 2011, it was after a number of emotional, health and financial setbacks. That is why I focused on Oakwood Baptist Church in Chickamauga, GA. Some other churches emailed me, asking why I had not mentioned similar services that they offer the needy community. At the time, I felt led to Oakwood, and the spirit and help I received from the wonderful people there impressed me enough to share my experience to let others, and there are many, who are going through difficult times know that help is available from Christians who honor the teachings of Christ by providing food, clothing and other services to folks who, through no fault of their own, are unable to make it from paycheck to paycheck. I was not intentionally ignoring anyone. Large churches, and even smaller ones, especially in the South, offer help to those who legitimately need it. This commentary is designed to inform the hurting people out there that there is assistance, provided in a Christian way, and also to encourage readers to help support these programs with small or large financial gifts, specified to go to programs for the needy. By doing so, your gift may change for the better the life of someone or a family in your community whom you don't even know. What better way to celebrate the true meaning and spirit of Christmas? Thank you for your attention. -- Toney Atkins, Dec. 20, 2013



BY TONEY ATKINS

CHICKAMAUGA, GA -- Oakwood Baptist Church in Chickamauga puts the Christ in Christianity.

Exercising its stated purpose of “loving God, loving people (and) making a difference,” Oakwood Baptist goes far beyond beautiful Sunday singing and sermonizing to spread the true meaning of Christianity by putting Jesus’ words and works into action in northwest Georgia’s Walker County and beyond.

I knew I was in the presence of a loving, wonderful spirit the moment I stepped into the lobby of the church building to have a meeting with church deacons when the multiplying problems of a crisis-filled year led me to seek help that I could not seem to find anywhere else.

Feelings of abandonment, loneliness and destitution were becoming all too common again since I had waded into the swiftly flowing and deepening river of my so-called “golden years.” Retirement from working two jobs most of my life was turning out to be not as I had expected and hoped for my 60s while rapidly approaching the even more uncertain age of 70. (My brain often teasingly deceived me into believing I was still young, but my mischievous body loved to remind me of an otherwise reality -- and it still has that tendency.)

"Murphy's Law" seemed to kick into high gear in July of 2010 when my foot missed a doorstep and I took a tumble onto a concrete walkway, further messing up an already suffering back, breaking fingers and spraining an ankle. A week later, a blood clot was discovered, and I was put on a blood-thinning medication to add to my repertoire of pill bottles in my carrying case. Then came physical therapy and a continuing battle with cholesterol and triglycerides and an appetite for foods that were dangerously loaded with both.

Things got no better in December when my car went out of control on a rain-and-ice-slick road, plowing directly into a power pole, totaling the vehicle and damaging my ego and sense of security behind the wheel. The seat belt, which I had always hated, probably saved my life, keeping my body from taking the full brunt of the steering wheel and my head from smashing through the windshield. Months were to pass before most of the physical pains went away, and some aftereffects still persist. God was definitely with me.

He was also there when a potentially cancerous growth recently appeared on my face and when hospital technicians found that I have a kidney stone that may be too large to pass naturally without a lot of serious pain. At this writing, the latter issues still have not resolved themselves.

Add to all that a deepening financial crisis. I suddenly had to find a new place to live in mid-2011 when a friend, from whom I had been renting a room and  sharing expenses, decided to turn his mobile home back over to the bank and leave because he said he simply could not afford it any more. Being retired and on a fixed income, I chalked up that development. I had to seek affordable housing and to make what I prayed would be only a temporary move into accommodations that I really couldn't afford.

Despite knowing that God was there, taking care of me the best He could, I became more and more despondent, depressed, full of self-anger and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness that I was doing very little to help Him to help me.

In mid-summer of 2011, I was spiritually led to Oakwood Baptist Church to seek any kind of help I could get. For the first time in many years, I was in a position of having to seek charity, and that was painful to my pride.

The church had been much smaller when I lived in Chickamauga as a young man, but apparently it was high on God because it had grown in size, membership and service to the community in comparison to what I remembered.

I felt the Spirit within moments of entering the doors. As I sat in the lobby, awaiting my appointment, one of the choirs was practicing and I had to smile. Long ago, I had sung in a choir. Long ago, I had felt the peace and joy that was welling up inside me. Several people passed, on their way to various activities. All smiled and offered greetings -- not because they felt compelled to, but because they wanted to. For a while, my anxieties were gone, seemingly meaningless. My fears were calmed. I felt good, physically and spiritually.

The deacons with whom I spoke reinforced the down-to-earth, “real people” atmosphere. Like Jesus, they were genuinely concerned about my problems. They didn’t preach at me. Foremost, they listened to me, they prayed with me and they helped me. God was in that room and everyone, including myself, was tuned in to Him.

Any doubt that I might have had about the power of the Spirit of Jesus, the Christ, was gone when I drove home, relieved that people cared, people helped.

The auditorium was packed for the Sunday services that I later attended. The ministers’ words rang true and the music and songs lifted me higher. The crowds smiled.

The church seems to be active seven days a week. I remain amazed at the number of ministries available to members and to the public, including missions to lead and encourage each other as the Body of Christ to go outside the church and be intentional in the area of relationship evangelism. This is performed through such actions as serving the community, as well as organizing short-term mission teams from Oakwood’s congregation.

Oakwood’s Ministry of Hope assists individuals and families in need of furniture and household items.

A church booklet points out that “life change happens best in community. When people gather in groups with a shared mission to pursue God; to love one another; or to serve others, God tends to show up and do amazing things.”  Oakwood’s Life Group ministry offers a variety of groups.

Celebrate Recovery, which meets weekly at both the Chickamauga and Germantown (East Ridge, TN) campuses, is the “perfect place to go to heal from life’s hurts, habits and hang-ups,” a spokesperson said.

Among other events and activities, Oakwood Baptist offers a children’s ministry, student ministries, a worship ministry, the Financial Peace University, a men’s ministry, pastoral care, a singles ministry, a recreation ministry and the Oakwood Christian Academy.

Oakwood is part of the Northwest Georgia Baptist Association with many ministries that Oakwood, along with 70 or so other churches, help to minister in Walker County and around the world, reader Don Taylor pointed out.

Oakwood Baptist also has presented an annual Easter sunrise service in the area of Wilder Tower in the Chickamauga-Chattanooga Battlefield National Park between Chickamauga and Fort Oglethorpe.

Oakwood’s Chickamauga campus is at 115 Oakwood St., Chickamauga, GA 30707, with Bible study and worship services at 9:15 and 10:45 a.m. Celebrate Recovery meets every Friday at 7 p.m., with a meal at 6 p.m. The Gateway campus is at 247 Market Place Lane, inside the Gateway Mall, in Ringgold, GA (just west of Interstate 75). Sunday services are at 9:15 a.m. and 10:45 a.m. The Germantown campus is at 707 S. Germantown Road, East Ridge, TN, where Sunday worship is at 10:45 a.m. and Celebrate Recovery is Sunday at 7 p.m., with a meal at 6 p.m.

More information is available by calling (706) 375-5760 or going online to http://oakwoodbc.org .

 I have never been known to write unsolicited commentaries about a particular church, but I have to say it. The Lord is leading me to testify about Oakwood Baptist and part of what it does in Chickamauga and surrounding communities. It’s “old-time religion” for the 21st century, and may it continue to bless.

Yes, "Murphy's Law" (if it can go wrong, it will) still challenges me, but I  have rediscovered a very special and spiritual way to deal with it, thanks to the folks at Oakwood who practice loving God, loving people and making a difference.

I urge friends, relatives, enemies and other readers who would like to feel some Christmas spirit all year long to send charitable gifts to the Caring Missions fund to benefit the northwest Georgia area's needy at https://e-giving.org/GuestDonation_v5/DonatorPage.asp at Oakwood's web address or send checks or money orders to the Chickamauga church campus' street address listed above. Checks or money orders should be made to Oakwood Baptist Church, with the memo specifying Caring Missions.

You will be blessed as someone less fortunate than you is blessed. This is my personal recommendation, because I know it works.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Writer Toney Atkins was born and grew up in Chickamauga, GA. He accepted Christ as his Savior in the mid-60s. He taught fifth, sixth and seventh grade subjects at Chickamauga Elementary School between 1967 and 1971. He taught at North Rossville (GA) Elementary in 1971-1972, after which he moved to Florida to become a newspaper writer and assistant editor. After retirement, he currently lives in northwest Georgia and can be contacted at toneyatkins@gmail.com or toneyatkins@live.com .

POSTSCRIPT: This commentary, written and posted nearly two years ago, has remained as the overall most read posting on this blog, of which I am very pleased. I stand by my writing and support all churches and organizations that provide physical help and comfort to the poor and the needy in these desperate times for many. -- Toney Atkins, Oct. 19, 2013.

SPREAD PEACE AND LOVE! Don't forget the less fortunate, plus we must continue to remember the troops and their families who are still dealing with the Afghanistan War and veterans of the Iraq War. God bless them all!

SEPT. 11, 2001: TERROR BECAME REALITY

BY TONEY ATKINS



The approach of the tenth anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001, finds me fighting a disturbing depression and unpleasant feelings of dread that the United States could be facing yet another devastating attack by our enemies.



Equally disturbing is the fact that some ultra-fanatic right-wingers in this country, including a few people who currently hold political power, have publicly asserted that another terrorist attack on America is needed to "prove" that the nation's first Black president, Barrack Obama, and the Democratic Party are not capable of protecting the country.



That, of course, outrageously pushes to an extreme limit the desire of many to see the Obama administration fail. Can anyone who remembers that day so vividly be so cold as to want, for political reasons, to experience the horrors of the potential destruction and deaths of possibly thousands of American citizens?



In their wildest imaginings, few ordinary citizens awoke that bright Tuesday morning in 2001 expecting the day to evolve into horror and bloody death on their own soil. Terrorist attacks occurred in other countries, but who would dare bring such villainous acts to the invincible powerhouse of the U.S.? It was unthinkable.



I had tuned the television to ABC's "Good Morning America" before sleepily approaching the shower to prepare for what I expected to be an ordinary day at the Daytona Times newspaper in Daytona Beach, FL. Running a little bit late, as usual, I was toweling myself dry when I noticed the bewildered expressions on the faces of the host and hostess of the news program. They were talking about the possibility that a small plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers in New York City. A camera showed the smoke pouring from the upper section of the huge building. It initially appeared to be a horrible accident. As a graphic indicating "Breaking News" appeared on the screen, Peter Jennings began his report about what was known at that point.



As I drove down Orange Avenue, listening to a morning talk show broadcasting from New York, the host and one of his co-hosts were excited and not speaking in normal tones. Someone shouted that another plane had crashed into the second tower. It was becoming clear that these were passenger jetliners and that these occurrences were not accidental. A chill went up and down my journalistic spine and I broke the speed limit in getting to the newspaper.



At that time, the Internet was available only to the editor in charge, and I was only a reporter. When the editor went upstairs to consult with Managing Editor Charles W. Cherry Sr., I rushed to his computer, where his assistant was working, and reached over his shoulder to sign on to America Online's news page. What I saw stunned me and brought forth epithets that shocked the assistant, who was not completely aware of the tragedy-in-progress, into gales of laughter which literally had him rolling on the floor. The Pentagon had just been struck by a third plane. The publishable text of my comment to the young man was, "We're at war!"



WPUL-AM radio, the city's Black station, would ordinarily be broadcasting gospel music delivered by satellite, but the music had been replaced by the continually breaking news, including that of the crash of a fourth passenger jet into a Pennsylvania field. It was now known that the planes had been hijacked in some devious plan to wreak havoc, and that plan was succeeding. The whereabouts of President George W. Bush, who had assumed office earlier that year and who was visiting an elementary school in Florida at the time, was not known until later in the morning when he addressed a terrified nation. Adding to the ongoing living nightmare, the World Trade Center buildings dramatically collapsed into rubble as residents raced away.



I was extremely frustrated because our office had no TV and I had no consistent access to the Internet. Telephone systems were overwhelmed, so I could not contact my father, a World War II veteran who lived in northwest Georgia. He suffered from health problems, and I was concerned as to how he might be reacting to the event.



The assistant editor, who was in charge of laying out the pages of the paper, particularly the all-important front page, approached me and asked how I thought we should handle the developing crisis, pointing out that we were a Black-oriented newspaper that primarily covered issues affecting only the Black community. My reply might have sounded inconsiderate, but I practically shouted that Black people most likely were among the dead and dying and that what was happening was historic, impacting everyone. I urged a front page, lead story but, respecting his position, left it up to him. (He soon organized an excellent front page for our weekly newspaper that rivaled those of area dailies.)



Getting out of the office, I found that traffic was lighter than usual, but I was determined to get local reaction in person instead of in phone calls. A young Black female employee in the photo department of what was then Eckerd Drugs on Ridgewood Avenue was fighting back tears. She told me that she was concerned about her future mother-in-law who worked in the vicinity of what was to become known as Ground Zero of the New York attacks. Her fiancee had not been able to reach his mother, and they feared the worst. The young woman said her mind could not comprehend what was going on. (Several days later, she gave me the good news that her mother-in-law-to-be was safe.)



Outside, a man who was listening to a news broadcast on his car radio was equally concerned, his face lined with stunned disbelief. He was concerned about his father, who didn't live in New York City but who live in New York state and occasionally went into the metropolis. He couldn't get through to his dad, and he was worried.



Reactions were similar at several other locations as I made my way back to the newspaper. At an ATM, an elderly Black man said his bank had closed and he wanted to withdraw his money, because he was afraid of what might happen next.



All commercial air travel was grounded, not to be resumed for several days. Eerie feelings that I was experiencing were compounded by the occasional sounds of military jets which seemed to scream very low over our building throughout the day. The unknown, the unexpected had come to our land, and many of us knew that our lives were changed forever.



During my lunch break, I got my first look at televised live pictures of the smoke and debris billowing from a surrealistic view of the skyline of New York City. My phone call to Georgia finally went through, and my dad was okay. He had gone to the home of a friend to watch the scenes of devastation unfold on CNN.



Officials determined that the hijackings were instigated by Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan. In October, we were officially at war in that country -- a war that continues in 2011. Despite the eventual discovery and killing of bin Laden in Pakistan on May 1, 2011, under the command of President Obama, no end is in sight for the allies' war against al Quaeda and the stabilization of Afghanistan. (Not long after 9/11, then-President Bush would later erroneously tie Iraq to the attacks on America and initiated a war in that country. That ill-advised war resulted in the deaths of or injuries to thousands of brave military personnel.))



Amid the smouldering ruins of the World Trade Center and the damaged sections of the Pentagon were the casualties -- heroic firemen and police officers, ordinary citizens who had not known they were going to work in the buildings for the last time, the bodies of those people who had jumped from many floors up rather than die in flames or from suffocation before the structures collapsed. Final death statistics, including the passengers who had overcome other hijackers over Pennsylvania, approached 3,000.



The nation mourned. There were memorial services around the U.S., including one in Daytona Beach. Many days would follow before a degree of normalcy would return to our country. For some, feelings of real security ended on that terrible September day.



Although pushed by many into the deeper recesses of their minds so as not to let fear overcome their lives, most Americans still remember what is generally referred to as 9/11. Some have told me that they don't like to bring those horrible memories back to the surface, although that's difficult to avoid as the anniversary nears and fleeting, even fearful thoughts rush through: Will it happen again?



Those politicians and regular citizens who have remarked that another 9/11 is needed to "bring back our country" (bring it back to what?) need to see the images captured by the cameras and included in documentaries on the History and National Geographic television channels and on DVD to remind them of the horrors of that single day. They need to be shamed and chastised by the Americans who respect life and care about the future of our country. These radical unpatriotic and destructive citizens who seem to prefer hate and war over peace should be questioned, along with their questionable sanity.



We must never forget the uncertainty of tomorrow and the fragility of life. All could end as early as today.



Meanwhile, each of us can work to restore peace within our own country's borders in order to be stronger against any evil that might threaten us, working toward a better world that could be free or hatred, fear and war.

LET OUR VETERANS KNOW THEY'RE APPRECIATED

By Toney Atkins
(c) 2009

On Veterans Day 2004, my late father was surprised and amazed when he opened his front door to discover several members of the church that he frequently attended.

That might not seem to be particularly noteworthy, except for the fact that they were carrying red, white and blue balloons, food, goodies, a card and a cake emblazoned with the words, "Thank You."

What I've been told is that tears were rolling down his face as the church members entered the living room. Each person in the group thanked him for the service he gave to his country, fighting in the European Theater during World War II.

My father was quoted as saying, "No one has ever said that to me before."

That day meant a lot to Dad, and I was to look back on it a year later as a kind of omen that he would not live to see another Veterans Day -- but he had experienced a very special one. In a telephone conversation afterwards, he only recounted to me that the people had performed the very kind and wonderful act.

Others in his neighborhood expressed the same sentiment during his last year. Some encouraged him to share his wartime experiences with a local television station that was making video diaries of area veterans, but he declined. He was a humble man who told me that he didn't do anything special and that he didn't feel comfortable doing a TV interview.

I was born during the war when he was overseas. He earned several awards for marksmanship and a purple heart for injuries he suffered. However, for some still unknown reason, he never wanted to talk about the war with me, so his history that he chose to share with some people was never shared with his only son. I only knew that he suffered horrible nightmares and occasionally terrible back pain that worsened with age. Watching a movie about the Vietnam War rattled his nerves and nearly sent him into a major panic attack, he told me about 20 years after that evening at the theatre. I had not been aware that it affected him.

I tend to believe that after the aforementioned initial encounter with expressions of appreciation and gratitude, Dad opened up more about his experiences on the battlefield, especially in Germany, to some neighbors, church members, friends and even to the employees of the funeral home, where he made his burial arrangements. The folks who shared this information with me said that he was animated and excited when he told those stories, and that the listeners were always enthralled. I wish I had been among them.

When the wars in Afghanistan after 9/11 and then in Iraq began, not knowing what conditions the troops would face or their trials and tribulations, Dad often said sadly, "I feel sorry for those boys," perhaps reflecting upon the dramatic changes he experienced between leaving a small Georgia town to train for a war and then fight it and the time he returned to the U.S. with many memories of occasional unspeakable horror, the screams of the wounded and the silence of the dead and experiencing injury himself.

For the sacrifice made by my father and many other fathers, young unmarried men and some women made in serving in World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Operation Desert Storm, Afghanistan and Iraq, it shouldn't take much effort on the part of the average citizen -- who may never have seen a battlefield or known the terribly dangerous blasts of bombs or the deadly sounds of gunfire from an enemy except in a movie -- to be grateful for those sacrifices that keep freedom ringing.

Based on my father's reaction several years ago, I would like to suggest that each of us who has a family member who is a veteran of any war, a neighbor or friend who has served, make a special point on this Veterans Day -- and on other days as well -- personally thank that veteran (and this includes the young and not-so-young soldiers of today) for his or her life, courage and sacrifice. You may never know how important that such a gesture could be and how much it would mean, not only to the veteran, but to you as well.

My father, Charlie Jackson Atkins, passed away on Aug. 22, 2005, his 84th birthday. I'm thankful for those who loved and appreciated him and told him so. I wish that I had known him better.

God bless our troops, and God bless the United States of America in these troubled times.

VETERANS OF ALL WARS DESERVE OUR THANKS

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: On Aug. 22, 2005, my father, a World War II veteran who earned the Purple Heart, passed away on his birthday. Among the handful of people at his funeral were my special cousin on my late mother's side of the family and her wonderful husband; a couple of his relatives; Dad's special friend and her family, all of whom loved him dearly and were the only people to send the two flower arrangements. The homegoing service in the chapel of Wilson's Funeral Home in Chickamauga, GA, provided by extremely caring directors and a very spiritual minister, was beautiful; and the military salute at the veterans' memorial cemetery in Chattanooga, TN, was remarkably memorable and executed with the precision that my father deserved. Only now do I truly realize the sacrifices that he made in the name of freedom and for his family and nation. His death basically went unnoticed, but what he did for his country, along with many other men and women, should not be forgotten. The following was written before his death:

War Veterans Deserve Our Thanks

BY TONEY ATKINS

Many times, citizens of all races, colors and creeds in the United States take so much of our freedom for granted that we forget that many of the people walking among us are a major part of the reason that we have so much for which we should be thankful.
This reality hit very close to home during a telephone conversation I recently had with a home health care official who is among those dedicated nurses and therapists who are caring for my ailing father, who will soon be 84 years old.
She told me that when she first met him a couple of years ago, they talked about his experiences during World War II, during which he suffered back injuries in both a vehicular mishap and when a bomb exploded near him, throwing him back into a foxhole. As he shared other memories of hellish experiences in the European Theater of the war, she told him, "Thank you for what you did for our country."
The lady said that her heart was touched when tears came to his eyes. She said she told him he must hear that often. Dad replied, "You're the first person who has ever said that to me."
On the following holiday celebrating our nation's independence, the woman and a friend surprised him with patriotic balloons and cards of appreciation. Again, this aging war veteran was delighted and moved to tears.
Dad has never shared that experience with me, just as he has always avoided even speaking about his experiences during the war or the Purple Heart he earned. He has never even told me what role he played in the military.
However, in the past year or so, he has opened up about the horrible dreams of that period more than 60 years ago, waking up shaking from the vividness of the nightmares that still seemed very real, very now.
The back injuries he suffered then have been magnified by arthritis, and he is in constant agonizing pain that medications barely touch. The several years he spent abroad fighting for his country were not only the time he could have had with his bride and a new son, but became a secret part of his life has been impacted every day and every night since his young adulthood and into his waning days on earth.
Soldiers from the U.S. later fought in the Korean Conflict. As in the "Big War," many men and women came home, older than their years and never able to fully recapture the missed joys of lost youth. They served admirably, but I don't recall much ado being made over their heroism.
The unpopular Vietnam Conflict (the media seldom referred to it as a war because war was never officially declared) saw more young people being sent to a hostile land, allegedly to fight the evils of communism. The free citizens of the soldiers' own country -- the USA -- were cruel in their lack of support for the war and took their anger out on returning troops, many of whom had suffered irreparable physical injuries and mental conditions that haunted them for many years.
Far too many innocents returned in body bags. Only their families and true friends seemed to genuinely appreciate their sacrifices, and the ghosts are still there for many of them.
Trained and untrained soldiers, including National Guardsmen from around the country, endured the hardships of preparing for and fighting in the short-lived Gulf War in the early 1990s after Iraq invaded oil-rich Kuwait. They returned to the U.S. as heroes, but many were angry and dissatisfied, believing that the mission had not truly been accomplished. What had been won? Dictator Saddam Hussein was not harmed and his government continued to operate, with only some sanctions placed against them to slap their wrists. They likely have their nightmares, too.
About 10 years later, a new normal became part of a young millennium when the unbelievable happened: Jetliners hijacked by terrorists slammed into the World Trade Center towers in New York City, another was purposely crashed into the Pentagon in Washington, DC, while a third went down in a field in Pennsylvania, never reaching its unknown intended target.
Sept. 11, 2001, was to become the day that changed the U.S. and the world, and security could no longer be taken for granted.
Our troops were sent into battle in Afghanistan to retaliate against the mastermind of the attacks, Osama bin Laden, and his followers. Soldiers are still there and, despite a major victory of sorts, many of our troops are still being maimed or killed as the search for the elusive bin Laden continues four years later.
For reasons the general public has yet to truly know, 130,000 of our military men and women were later transported to Iraq, where the mission to liberate that country of Dictator Saddam Hussein's rule was declared accomplished only months after the battle against an apparently inept army appeared to be won. However, terrorists who were not in Iraq joined a growing insurgency that opposed Americans' presence, and members of our armed forces are still being killed or wounded on an almost daily basis. The war is not yet done, and no one knows when or if the mission will indeed be accomplished or how many of our brave young people will be lost before it is over.
A survey of troops returning from the Iraq war found that 50 percent had developed mental health problems three to four months after coming home, the Army's surgeon general said in a recent Associated Press report.
The problems include anxiety, depression, nightmares, anger and an inability to concentrate, according to Lt. Gen Kevin Kiley and other military medical officials. A smaller group, usually with more severe cases of those symptoms, is diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.
Anyone who has not been in combat cannot comprehend the horrors these men and women have endured or, for that matter, the nitty-gritty experiences of those who have been in any war. Our minds don't share what lives in theirs.
It is not unpatriotic to oppose the war in Iraq, because Americans were misled as to why our troops had to go there.
It is unpatriotic not to support the men and women who are doing their assigned jobs with a constant risk of death, dismemberment or lifelong mental anguish. These are men and women of all races, colors and creeds who are heroes, giving of themselves so that the U.S. might enjoy what freedoms we have left.
It is unpatriotic to discriminate against the veterans of the Vietnam Conflict. They are human beings who were doing their jobs for the military as you do your job every day. They were and are heroes who have sacrificed parts of their lives -- including their physical and emotional well-being -- for you and me.
It is unpatriotic to overlook those who fought in Korea. They suffered for us while we enjoyed the much-proclaimed innocence and blissful freedoms of the post-World War II era.
It is unpatriotic to forget the rapidly dying breed of World War II veterans who gave their all, fighting in countries abroad to keep their loved ones back home safe from the ravages of conflict.
How long has it been since you said "thank you" to a veteran of any war?
In doing so, you could be doing your patriotic duty without any extreme effort on your part.
Thank the individual with sincerity, and perhaps you will impact a life by making that person a little happier, knowing that he or she is appreciated for their sacrifice about which we may think only briefly when Veterans Day, Memorial Day or the Fourth of July come around.
As in my Dad's case, you may be the only person from whom the man or woman who served for you has ever heard any words of thanks.
Don't restrict the thought to one or two days a year. Whenever the opportunity arises, let a veteran of World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan or any other conflict know that the job they did then or are doing now has not been in vain.
To my heroes, Dad and everyone who has served in the military in any capacity, and especially those who have endured the battlefields of the world, I salute you and say: "Thanks for serving our country and doing your part to keep me -- us -- free."

(c) 2005, Toney Atkins

SEPTEMBER FLOODS IN GEORGIA

Dear Mr. Atkins:

As you know, Georgia has experienced severe storms, massive flooding, and record rainfall in recent weeks. Many Georgians have lost everything they own during already-tough economic times. Upon receiving reports of the flooding, Governor Sonny Perdue declared a state of emergency and requested a federal disaster declaration from President Obama.

Please accept my apology if you have received duplicate emails. In an effort to provide you this information in a timely manner, I have sent this to each record I have for you. I regret any inconvenience this may cause you.

On September 24, President Obama issued a Major Disaster Declaration for the state of Georgia, triggering the release of federal funds to help individuals recover from the severe storms and flooding. At this time, the counties of Bartow, Carroll, Catoosa, Chattooga, Cherokee, Cobb, Coweta, DeKalb, Douglas, Fulton, Gwinnett, Heard, Newton, Paulding, Rockdale, Stephens, and Walker have been designated for Individual Assistance. Funding for individuals is available in the form of temporary housing, home repairs, and other serious disaster-related expenses.

In addition, Public Assistance is available to local governments and nonprofit organizations for emergency work and the repair or replacement of facilities. Currently, Carroll, Catoosa, Chattooga, Cherokee, Cobb, Crawford, Dawson, DeKalb, Dooly, Douglas, Fulton, Gwinnett, Heard, Houston, Newton, Paulding, Peach, Rockdale, Stephens, Taylor, and Walker counties are eligible for this type of assistance. Low-interest loans from the U.S. Small Business Administration will also be available to cover residential and business losses not fully compensated by insurance. Finally, all counties in Georgia are eligible to apply for the Hazard Mitigation Grant Program.

If you are in need of assistance and live in one of the designated counties, please apply as soon as possible by registering online at www.disasterassistance.gov or by calling 1-800-621-FEMA (3362), or 1-800-462-7585 for the hearing and speech impaired. Additional information, including locations of Disaster Recovery Centers, can be found at the Georgia Emergency Management Agency's website at www.gema.ga.gov or by calling (404) 635-7000.

I remain concerned about the families and communities displaced by the flooding. I recently toured the distressed areas with Vice President Biden, Homeland Security Secretary Napolitano and Federal Emergency Management Agency Administrator Fugate, and am encouraged with the ongoing recovery efforts. I have spoken directly with local officials in the declared areas to offer my assistance. I have also sent a letter to President Obama encouraging his administration to provide relief to those affected as expeditiously as possible.

If I may be of any assistance, please contact my Macon office at 1-800-234-4208 or visit my website http://chambliss.senate.gov/public/index.cfm?p=AssistanceForFloodDamage for the most up-to-date information on disaster response and recovery.

Sen. Saxby Chambliss

JESUS, CHRISTIANS AND HEALTH CARE

BY TONEY ATKINS

My patriotism to my Southern heritage has been questioned several times since I moved back to northwest Georgia. One of the biggest criticisms that I have encountered thus far has related to my observations about conservative Southern Christianity and the plight of many in our country who need good Christian examples in this day and age.

Before I continue, let me state that I have been a Christian, although not always a "good" one, since the mid-1960s. I became a believer after listening to the passionate preachings of the late Rev. Edwin Smith, who pastored an Assembly of God church near Chickamauga, GA. The teachings of Jesus became very important in my life, and ever since those days of active participation in the church, I still relate far more to the gospels than I do the historical, yet meaningful, teachings in the Old Testament, which were prophetic as to the coming of a Savior.

I always felt comfortable in any denominational church when Christ was at the center of the spiritual education. When the preachings were even subtly political in nature and not related to the alleged goal of salvation of souls, I became disturbed or, at least, uncomfortable. There were many lessons to be learned from the entire Bible, but the words of Jesus and his history in the New Testament resonated the most with me.

Although I became less active in the church community in the early 1970s, I never forgot those wonderful, Bible-believing genuine Christian people who were in that church to guide me in my early days and to be a friend as several years went by. Christian men and women of this calibre are not the ones who frustrate me. In my older age, I'm simply more skeptical about those who praise God to high heaven inside the church building but seem to forget important spiritual precepts after the services end.

While many folks indeed follow the teachings of Jesus to the best of their abilities and even go over and beyond what is expected in Christian actions when others are in need, I find a certain disappointment in those who don't always apply the principles to make their lives and the lives of others better on this earth. I'm guilty of this, and when I see it in others, I feel even more guilty.

I've been thinking about this for a while, particularly since the nation's first Black president, Barrack Obama was elected in 2008. No one expected this historic transition to be without some stumbling blocks, and a whole slew of them apparently fell in the South. Before and after Obama took office, I would get headaches listening to my Southern neighbors say that they hoped he and his policies would fail and then they would go off on tangents about how he was going to do this and how he was going to do that, with not a single bit of evidence that would prove what they spoke. Occasionally, someone will be honest and say what is really on the collective minds: "I don't like him as president because he's Black."

These particular groups admittedly got most of their news from Fox News, an alleged conservative Republican outlet which rarely has anything good to say about members of other political parties. Therefore, these good Christian folks almost too quickly latch onto a rumor or downright lie that someone passed along to them after getting it from right-wing conservatives and newsmen and cement that information into their brains, rarely listening to reason when something is absolutely absurd.

Such has been the case with many of the positive actions President Obama has tried to take -- actions which stand a chance of helping millions of people. I have never heard such ignorance, foolishness and outright lies from some religious folk about the proposed, controversial health care plan. The Republican Party fuels their flames with misinformation and fear tactics -- actions which can only be defined as non-Christian. I'll be honest: This type of environment makes me want to scream.

Fortunately for my sanity, I came across a piece on the www.CommonDreams.org web site that sent my hands and arms into the air to praise the Lord. In a transcript of a speech that the Rev. Jim Rigby, pastor of St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church in Austin, delivered before a crowd of 2,000, titled "Why is Universal Health Care 'Un-American'?"

He wondered why anyone else there believed the topic was really controversial.
"Here's one way to frame such a discussion," he began. "If an infant is born to poor parents, would we be more ethical to give medicine to that child so he or she does not die prematurely of preventable diseases, or would we be more ethical if we let the child die screaming in his or her parent's arms so we can keep more of our money?

"Or, let's say someone who worked for Enron, and now is penniless, contracted bone cancer. I've been asked to discuss whether we are more ethical if we provide such people medicine that lessens their pain. Or would we be more ethical to let them scream through the night in unbearable agony so we can pay lower taxes?"

Rev. Rigby then asserted, "I can't believe I am standing today in a Christian church defending the proposition that we should lessen the suffering of those who cannot afford health care in an economic system that often treats the poor as prey for the rich. I cannot believe there are Christians around this nation who are shouting that message down and waving guns in the air because they don't want to hear it. But I learned a long time ago that churches are strange places; charity is fine, but speaking of justice is heresy in many churches."

He pointed out that the late Brazilian bishop Dom Hélder Câmara said it well: "When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a Communist."

"Too often today in the United States, if you talk about helping the poor, they call you Christian, but if you actually try to do something to help the poor, they call you a socialist," the reverend said.

He asked the crowd: "How many of you get really excited about tweaking the insurance system so we just get robbed a little less? (silence) How many of you want universal health care? (sustained applause) I realize that insurance reform is all that's on the table right now, and it can be important to choose the lesser of evils when that alone is within our power in the moment. But we also need to remember our dream. I believe the American dream is not about material success, not about being having the strongest military. The American dream is that every person might have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

Rigby went on to say: "It's amazing to hear Christians who talk about the right to life as though it ends at birth. They believe every egg has a right to hatch, but as soon as you're born, it's dog eat dog. We may disagree on when life begins, but if the right to life means anything it means that every person (anyone who has finished the gestation period) has a right to life. And if there is a right to life there must be a right to the necessities of life. Like health care. I believe the American dream is not about property rights, but human rights."

"Supporting universal health care does not make you socialist or even a liberal, it makes you a human being. And it makes you an ambassador for the American dream which, in the mind of Thomas Paine, was a dream for every human being, not just Americans," Rigby concluded. "As we struggle to get health care to all people, we may have to settle for the lesser of two evils, but remember your dream -- the true American dream, a human dream. Whatever we win through reform is just first step toward a day when every human being has a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

Right on, Rev. Rigby. The president's plan, as delivered in a major speech before lawmakers in Washington, DC, was to the point, and many uninsured Americans, Christian and non-Christian, are beginning to get the message. Obama pointed out the falsehoods of much of the misinformation that's been propagated, and amid all the confusion, it would do everyone good to find the speech online and read every word.

This brings me back to personal issues I addressed earlier: What would Jesus do? He healed body and spirit; He made the blind to see, and neither of these people had insurance. He left a lot of messages about our relationships with our neighbors and other things that He wanted to see carried on. Are we helping others when they are down and out? What do we do to help them when they are sick and can't work or go to school? Are we unselfishly Christ-like enough to care that far too many can't afford to buy an insurance policy and would be financially ruined if they became terribly ill?

I urge readers to get the facts about the proposed health care legislation from reliable sources and to not fall for the scare tactics that are being bandied about. We need health care coverage for all, not for just the fortunate folks who can afford it.


-- The Rev. Jim Rigby, used as a source in this story, is pastor of St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church in Austin. He can be reached at jrigby0000@aol.com.

HAVE REPUBLICANS LOST THEIR MINDS?

BY TONEY ATKINS

Instead of acting like candidates for an insane asylum, why don't Republican conservatives just come out and tell the truth? They're angry because they lost their power in 2008. Barrack Obama was elected president of the United States and birthers, deathers and the rest of the oddballs are particularly mad because they cannot handle the reality of having a Black man in that position.

The latest silliness (at least, as of this writing) has to do with the president speaking via television to the nation's students this past Tuesday. Psycho-babble "news" outlets such as Fox News, essentially an arm of the Republican Party, were practically gushing with encouragements for parents to keep their children out of school to avoid Obama "propaganda." I do not recall such outrageousness happening when presidents such as George Bush Sr. and Ronald Reagan (both Republicans, mind you) made essentially the same kind of speeches to kids during their administrations.

This writer has literally lost friends of the Republican persuasion because he openly has called the whole right-wing stupidity, ignorance and arrogance exactly what it is -- stupidity, ignorance, arrogance and blatant racism.

The atmosphere of hate and irrational fear in this country is reaching levels that some folks don't even recall seeing and feeling during the Civil Rights Era, and they are probably right.

It is downright scary to know that many people actually believe all of the fear-mongering and misinformation that has spread since Obama became a candidate for the presidency and particularly after he won the office.

Taking notes on napkins and scraps of paper at diners and other establishments in northwest Georgia near Chattanooga, TN, I still shake my head in disbelief at what people say about the president of the United States. If I had implied such insanities during the Bush Administration, I would have been called unpatriotic and a son of Satan.

Personally, I see the right-wingers and Republicans as exemplifying the Anti-Christ with their perpetuation of sinful lies and attacks, verbal so far, yet bordering on frightening encouragements of intimidation and assassination. However, they claim to be so holy and say that they are the truth-mongers.

To these folks, I say: Grow up. Obama didn't steal your lunch money and he hasn't done a single thing to bully or hurt you. Accept it. He is Black and that shouldn't matter. Barring any catastrophe that might even be brought on by U.S. Republicans who seem to desire such, Obama will be president at least until 2012 (the year that the Mayan calendar predicts the world will end anyway).

Right-wingers: Please stop being hypocritical Christians who leave your religion inside the church walls and become anti-Christians in public. You are influencing people who might not be aware of your untruths, especially when you are spreading everything you hear on Fox News as gospel.

Interviewing about 20 people in various locations in northwest Georgia, including the mobile home park in which I live, I have been stunned to learn that most of them get all their national news from Fox News and from the relatively conservative local news media operatives who carefully choose their sound-bites so as not to offend the sensitive mind-sets of many in their mid-South audiences and who even to continue the stream of misinformation rather than attempting to stop and correct it.

As has been reported on a national level, many don't want the government involved in health care but, as one elderly woman told me, "don't screw with my damn Social Security and Medicare." She had no reply, just an angry expression of distaste, when it was pointed out to her that the latter programs are handled by the federal government. She believes the falsehood that the proposed health care legislation has a section that would control the deaths of old people. She was not the only one who was full of misinformation who, when asked where they got their information, almost to a person said they "heard it on TV."

Some of these "proud Americans" even went so far as to say they hoped Obama would be assassinated. One even said he prays daily that such will happen. One man said it made sense to him that Republicans were taking guns to Democratic Party lawmakers' health care town halls, even though the meetings had nothing to do with misconceptions about imagined gun control threats. Many still believe the long-disproved argument that Obama was not born in the U.S. (Hawaii was and still is a state.) These folks unashamedly want Obama to fail.

And like crazies on television, some of those with whom I've talked or that I've simply overheard have compared Obama to Hitler and have described his plans for the country as socialism and Nazi-ism. None of those who were interviewed or simply questioned about their beliefs could provide facts to support them.

One of my trailer park neighbors noted that he is a Democrat, but he couldn't bring himself to vote for Obama or even support him today because, and I quote, "I have to uphold my Southern heritage. It's not right for a n----- to be president of the United States."

See? It all boils down to Obama's Blackness.

While I know many Christians who are deeply sincere in their faith, I am quite disappointed in some fundamentalist churches in the South. Some don't even focus on the teachings of Christ any more but instead spread the propaganda of politics in the name of God. I often imagine that Jesus might get up and walk out of a service in disgust, although I realize He is above that.

"Family values" also seem to have changed in the right-wing community. It appears to be okay if they do something questionable, even "sinful," but not all right when persons who are Democrats or Independents commit essentially the same acts. They impeached President Clinton because he lied about sexual indiscretions, but the "family values" folks are more than willing to forgive a Republican governor cheated on his wife with someone he called his "true love" in South America, and no major fuss has ever been raised about a Republican lawmaker who allegedly tried to initiate homosexual bathroom sex at a major airport. He is still in office.

I've given up on trying to widen the narrow minds of my right-wing Republican friends. They are set in their ways. They believe that they are right and everyone else is wrong. They look down on those who do not agree with them. They are racist, although they deny it. They definitely want the Democratic president to fail, yet they call themselves patriots.

Obama is obviously Black -- an intelligent and qualified Black man who won the presidency legitimately. He has a wonderful family, and he appears to be a good husband and father. Leading a country filled with the craziness that is blocking the needed attention to the important issues must be difficult.

I would like to believe that all Americans have the capability to act as though we have entered the 21st century, especially since we're already nine years into it. Unfortunately, with the prevailing insanity and fear, I fear that our great nation is going backward instead of forward. We can only pray that more citizens will work to reverse the tide, spreading love and peace and overwhelming the cancer of hate, dishonesty and distrust.

-- Toney Atkins is a former assistant editor of the Daytona Times in Daytona Beach, FL, and a former contributor to the Florida Courier. His web site is www.toneyatkins.com. This commentary appeared in the Sept. 10, 2009, issue (www.flcourier.com/). The opinions stated here do not necessarily reflect those of the staff and management of those newspapers.

SEPTEMBER 11 EVOKES MEMORIES OF TERROR

BY TONEY ATKINS

The approach of the eighth anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001, finds me fighting a disturbing depression and unpleasant feelings of dread that the United States could be facing yet another devastating attack by our enemies.

Equally disturbing is the fact that some ultra-fanatic right-wingers in this country, including a few people who currently hold political power, have publicly asserted that another terrorist attack on America is needed to "prove" that the nation's first Black president, Barrack Obama, and the Democratic Party are not capable of protecting the country. That, of course, outrageously pushes to an extreme limit the desire of many to see the administration fail. Can anyone who remembers that day so vividly be so cold as to want, for political reasons, to experience the horrors of the potential destruction and deaths of possibly thousands of American citizens?

In their wildest imaginings, few ordinary citizens awoke that bright Tuesday morning in 2001 expecting the day to evolve into horror and bloody death on their own soil. Terrorist attacks occurred in other countries, but who would dare bring such villainous acts to the invincible powerhouse of the U.S.? It was unthinkable.

I had tuned the television to ABC's "Good Morning America" before sleepily approaching the shower to prepare for what I expected to be an ordinary day at the Daytona Times newspaper in Daytona Beach, FL. Running a little bit late, as usual, I was toweling myself dry when I noticed the bewildered expressions on the faces of the host and hostess of the news program. They were talking about the possibility that a small plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers in New York City. A camera showed the smoke pouring from the upper section of the tower. It appeared to be a horrible accident. As a graphic indicating "Breaking News" appeared on the screen, Peter Jennings began his report about what was known at that point.

As I drove down Orange Avenue, listening to a morning talk show broadcasting from New York, the host and one of his co-hosts were excited and not speaking in normal tones. Someone shouted that another plane had crashed into the second tower. It was becoming clear that these were passenger jetliners and that these occurrences were not accidental. A chill went up and down my journalistic spine and I broke the speed limit in getting to the newspaper.

At that time, the Internet was available only to the editor in charge, and I was only a reporter. When the editor went upstairs to consult with Managing Editor Charles W. Cherry Sr., I rushed to his computer, where his assistant was working, and reached over his shoulder to sign on to America Online's news page. What I saw stunned me and brought forth epithets that shocked the assistant, who was not completely aware of the tragedy-in-progress, into gales of laughter which literally had him rolling on the floor. The Pentagon had just been struck by a third plane. The publishable text of my comment to the young man was, "We're at war!"

WPUL-AM radio, the city's Black station, would ordinarily be broadcasting gospel music delivered by satellite, but the music had been replaced by the continually breaking news, including that of the crash of a fourth passenger jet into a Pennsylvania field. It was now known that the planes had been hijacked in some devious plan to wreak havoc, and that plan was succeeding. The whereabouts of President George W. Bush, who had assumed office earlier that year and who was visiting an elementary school in Florida at the time, was not known until later in the morning when he addressed a terrified nation. Adding to the ongoing living nightmare, the World Trade Center buildings dramatically collapsed into rubble as residents raced away.

I was extremely frustrated because our office had no TV and I had no consistent access to the Internet. Telephone systems were overwhelmed, so I could not contact my father, a World War II veteran who lived in northwest Georgia. He suffered from health problems, and I was concerned as to how he might be reacting to the event.

The assistant editor, who was in charge of laying out the pages of the paper, particularly the all-important front page, approached me and asked how I thought we should handle the developing crisis, pointing out that we were a Black-oriented newspaper that primarily covered issues affecting only the Black community. My reply might have sounded inconsiderate, but I practically shouted that Black people most likely were among the dead and dying and that what was happening was historic, impacting everyone. I urged a front page, lead story but, respecting his position, left it up to him. (He would organize an excellent front page for our weekly newspaper that rivaled those of area dailies.)

Getting out of the office, I found that traffic was lighter than usual, but I was determined to get local reaction in person instead of in phone calls. A young Black female employee in the photo department of what was then Eckerd Drugs on Ridgewood Avenue was fighting back tears. She told me that she was concerned about her future mother-in-law who worked in the vicinity of what was to become known as Ground Zero of the New York attacks. Her fiancee had not been able to reach his mother, and they feared the worst. The young woman said her mind could not comprehend what was going on. (Several days later, she gave me the good news that her mother-in-law-to-be was safe.)

Outside, a man who was listening to a news broadcast on his car radio was equally concerned, his face lined with disbelief. He was concerned about his father, who didn't live in New York City but who live in New York state and occasionally went into the metropolis. He couldn't get through to his dad, and he was worried.

Reactions were similar at several other locations as I made my way back to the newspaper. At an ATM, an elderly Black man said his bank had closed and he wanted to withdraw his money, because he was afraid of what might happen next.
All commercial air travel was grounded, not to be resumed for several days. Eerie feelings that I was experiencing were compounded by the sounds of military jets which occasionally seemed to scream very low over our building throughout the day. The unknown, the unexpected had come to our land, and many of us knew that our lives were changed forever.

During my lunch break, I got my first look at televised live pictures of the smoke and debris billowing from a surrealistic view of the skyline of New York City. My phone call to Georgia finally went through, and my dad was okay. He had gone to the home of a friend to watch the scenes of devastation unfold on CNN.

Officials determined that the hijackings were instigated by Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan. In October, we were officially at war in that country -- a war that continues in 2009. Bin Laden remains at large eight years later, and no end is in sight for the allies' war against al Quaeda. (Bush would later erroneously tie Iraq to the attacks and initiated a war in that country.)

Amid the smouldering ruins of the World Trade Center and the damaged sections of the Pentagon were the casualties -- heroic firemen and police officers, ordinary citizens who had not known they were going to work in the buildings for the last time, the bodies of those people who had jumped from many floors up rather than die in flames or from suffocation before the structures collapsed. Final death statistics, including the passengers who had overcome the hijackers over Pennsylvania, approached 3,000.

The nation mourned. There were memorial services around the U.S., including one in Daytona Beach. Many days would follow before a degree of normalcy would return to our country. For some, feelings of real security ended on that terrible September day.

Although pushed by many into the deeper recesses of their minds so as not to let fear overcome their lives, most Americans still remember what is mostly referred to as 9/11. Some have told me that they don't like to bring those horrible memories back to the surface, although that's difficult to avoid as the anniversary nears and fleeting, fearful thoughts rush through: Will it happen again?

Those politicians and regular citizens who have remarked that another 9/11 is needed to "bring back our country" (bring it back to what?) need to see the images captured by the cameras and included in documentaries on the History and National Geographic television channels and on DVD to remind them of the horrors of that single day. They need to be shamed and chastised by the Americans who respect life and care about the future of our country. Their destructive approach to patriotism should be questioned, along with their questionable sanity.

We must never forget the uncertainty of tomorrow and the fragility of life. All could end as early as today. Meanwhile, each of us can work to restore peace within our own borders in order to be stronger against any evil that might threaten us, working toward a better world that could be free or hatred, fear and war.

DID I THINK THAT?

Looking over some of the posts that I made to this blog in the past, I can't help but wonder: What was I thinking?

Was I under the influence of prescription drugs or perhaps a power beverage that somehow got into my refrigerator? It certainly wasn't alcohol-induced influenced -- well, except maybe once or twice -- because for the most part, I separated myself from that particular dependence nearly seven years ago. The writings weren't inflenced by exotic drugs, either, because I've never had a temperment for most of them.

My only conclusion is that some of the things I've written in this "blog" or even on my website were affected by where my brain was at the time. I actually am surprised at some of the entries, but I wouldn't even consider deleting them because doing so would be deletion of part of myself that was.

I can readily see the point at which I should have gotten a life, and that was long ago. I'm not getting any younger, and I need to get out among the populace beyond those who seem to live at Hardees even when I'm not there.

Don't get me wrong. These are wonderfully human Southern folks, some of whom even hold onto values that my parents tried to pound into me way back when. I sit with my Little Thickburger, onion rings and a Coke, observing the friendly 85-year-old man whose face is a road map of his travel through life and his eyes seem to be focused on a distant past, when things were better, when his wife was alive and bringing joy into his heart and his town was alive and prosperous, rather than being a dead spot between a thriving row of restaurants and shops and the big city. He keeps up on the status of the weather and baseball scores.

Then there is the man who is slightly older than I but, according to him, knows far more than I ever will. His political views are honed and cemented by Fox News, making him a wonderful source of misinformation. Behind his back, other patrons call him the "know it all" as he bluntly denounces their dietary cuisine of burgers and fries while he sips his coffee. I've long since given up on conversing with him, but I think I see beneath his tough exterior a man whose heart would lead him to help anyone in need. He is a Vietnam veteran who talks about veterans' benefits but not about the war.

There are other patrons whose names are known by the fast-food eatery's employees and all are uniquely special. I wonder if someday I'll be passing the time of my last days on earth in a place where nobody knows my name and after the hamburgers have fascinating new names if not new tastes. (I love the place!)

Yes, it's time to get myself a life and put my uniqueness on display before it's too late. Then, perhaps, my blog entries will be livelier, more positive and even thought provoking so that before I go to that great web site in the sky, I won't have to wonder why I wrote that.