Monday, November 25, 2013

Having just completed a week of (alternate as the reader desires) marked the death of a President/Celebrated the Life of a President, I started mulling such things.

I didn’t think much of Kennedy – most things happened after he was dead, created by Johnson. Still, a couple of other Presidents stand out, Lincoln for the greater, I suppose. Roosevelt didn’t turn me on. Never could understand the Liberal mind.

From the well known to  the unknown, or, from the sublime to the ridiculous. I got to wondering about the Lincoln thing. Who killed Booth? Well, a soldier did. Which isn’t unknown, whether the Posse Comitatus  act was a real thing or not. Probably not given the times.

Boston Corbett was a wacko. He was also a soldier, and was assigned to the Federal Army unit that was ordered to track down (but not kill) John Wilkes Booth, who had just assassinated President Lincoln. Booth was soon cornered in a barn. Corbett shot (and killed) him through a crack in the barn wall. Corbett alternately claimed that Booth had made threatening moves, or that he was acting on personal orders from God.

I hate to say it, but that soldiers excuses sound a lot like those I’ve heard from other sources here lately.

Anyhow, I’m extolling Kansas. The good soldier mentioned above ended living in a hole in the ground.

Sounds like some of the things I’ve been hearing about other people lately.

The hole in the ground is in Concordia Ks.

A tourist spot.

Come visit.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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