Wow, what an honor to be a writer among so many talented ladies of the land! Never in my wildest dreams did I realize how fate would lead me along life’s path. Do I miss the dangling golden earrings of a former life? Nope, not at all! Do I miss the hay bale binder twine that held my old red wool hunting pants around my eight-month’s pregnant belly 35 years ago? Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. So who am I now and how did I get here from there? Well, here’s my story…or at least a very small part of it.
Because old age and reality have won the battle over youth and vanity, I know I recently received what I perceive to be one of the nicest compliments directed my way in a very long time. Looking me straight in the eye and with hands on my shoulder, someone who’s listened to me espouse on everything from A to Z for several years, said, "I like what you stand for!"
Being one who usually has some quick and humorous comeback, I instead found myself standing speechless and agape. I guess I’ve just generally considered myself opinionated and outspoken and so had to really digest this compliment as, wet-eyed, I managed to say, "Thank you", and hugs of a deeper friendship were exchanged. In fact, I’m still digesting the words and remembering how it is that I’ve come to be the person I am and what it is I stand for.
My roots began in a family that hewed farmland out of the Lower Michigan forest to help feed our Nation and who fought in way too many wars to preserve my freedom and the freedom of all who have come to call America home. A civil war rifle, a family heirloom handed down to me through generations of patriots, hangs on my living room wall.
I’m the product of a fiercely proud family who has stood at attention every time the American flag passes by, a family who taught me that Democracy and our Constitutional Rights should be carefully tended to ensure a strong future for American families. I learned early on that the rewards for hard work were more meaningful than for sloth and avarice; that something worth having was worth fighting for.
I went to school at a time when we stood tall with hand over heart and said the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. We had to memorize the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States of America, as well as the Bill of Rights, learning exactly what those rights meant to us as American citizens. I was taught to sing hymns at home as though I’d written the words and music myself, and bringing anyone’s God into the classroom wasn’t something to be ashamed of because God and the teachings of the Bible were a part of our value system, not an onus to be borne because someone found it offensive.
My mother and grandma cut and sewed dresses for my sister and me from feed mill sacks and fine china was saved for only state occasions. The menu was often pheasant, rabbit, squirrel, venison, or whatever dad or grandpa could find to feed the family. I did dig in my heels, though, and still gag at the thought of fish eggs simmering in the frying pan. In the summer, we ate fish we’d caught till they came out of our own gills and a vacation meant going to Traverse City to pick cherries for extra pocket money while "camping" in the old Nash Rambler with fold down seats.
I remember marching so proudly in the band behind old glory and giving my speech on "What America Means To Me" in front of community people who stood gathered outside the local American Legion building on a warm Sunday afternoon.
Respect was the only four-letter word I knew, four letters because it meant love; love of family, love of friends, love of God, country, and my fellowman.
We didn’t have television when I was growing up, but when we finally did get a set we weren’t assaulted by a steady diet of potty-word obscenities and nudity. Murder, mayhem, and graphic violence weren’t programming fare. Neither was listening to children smart-mouthing parents and teachers in the sitcoms we get to choose from today.
As a parent and grandparent, I find no humor or entertainment value in television programming anymore. Instead I find messages aimed at kids to make them believe poor behavior is thought to be acceptable by all adults. It isn’t and it never should be. All it does is desensitize our youth and us to a traditional set of American values and morals. Prudish? No, I’m just fed up with public vulgarity.
I believe the heartbeat of America is people just like me, not those knot heads in Hollywood whose reality is someone else’s script to read in front of a camera. It’s not someone baring a boob at a Super Bowl half time show or gyrating to mumbo jumbo words meant to shock and denigrate America and the value-system of it’s citizens.
I have faith that the heartbeat of America is people who still believe in mom, hot dogs, apple pie, and what’s left of the American Dream for our struggling young families. Perhaps people who still believe in these things aren’t real worldly, but our pulse is tuned to a fever pitch of industriousness when it comes to supporting our families and giving them just a small taste of the good life during what little free time we have left at the end of the work week. Maybe that small taste is only a well-budgeted no-frills trip to the State Fair or tickets for a special ballgame. Maybe it’s being able to buy a little piece of hunting land and taking a young lad out to learn how to shoot. Maybe it’s being able to afford an ORV or a boat, motor, and fishing tackle. Or maybe it’s just hopping in the car and going out for an ice-cream cone for the little ones and a banana split for dad.
Not everyone is interested in what’s come to be known as the "silent sports". Yet, it would seem that "silence" is becoming the order of the day so as not to disrupt pristine and jeweled habitat or nest resting wildlife. It would also seem that "silence" is so golden that even going into certain areas of "public" land is prohibited for the sake of what an eco-whacko conservation organization may deem to be endangered, threatened, or sensitive. We’ve already become trespassers on a lot of our own "public" land and it’s only going to get worse, not better, as more and more concessions are made.
Like it or not and at the personal expense of appearing paranoid, I firmly believe there is a movement so perverse in America that it threatens every aspect of our lives including what we eat and how much we weigh, where we can live and how much private land we may eventually own, how and where we spend our free time, how we can make an honest living, how big our families will be, how we’ll get to work and the grocery store, what our children will be taught about democracy and science, and whether or not we’ll worship Nature instead of God. Like it or not, this movement is driven by the United Nations and it’s helped along by their membership organization of organizations. And like it or not, there are those who are persistent in wanting to destroy our inherent freedoms and constitutional rights, including the right to keep and bear arms, and to render us defenseless in harm’s way.
Ignorance is bliss only to those who want to lead others without letting them know about all the ramifications of the direction they’re being led like lambs to slaughter. That, my friends, is not democracy; instead and for the sake of global biodiversity and sustainable development, it’s apathetic suicidal social behavior that will eventually affect every freedom we now enjoy.
No, I’m not a far out right wing conservative. I’m just a human being who refuses to put on blinders and be programmed by eco-maniacs and biodiversity zealots who want me to believe the sky is falling and eco-systems won’t be complete without things that go bump in the night. I refuse to be programmed into giving up my firearms because someone thinks this will deter crime and I refuse to be driven off my land so that the U.P. can revert back to wilderness and become non-human habitat for Flying Purple People Eaters.
Whatever happened to personal integrity and scruples and our elected government officials who are supposed to represent all or at least the majority of the people, and not just those special interest groups who can buy a candidate for the price of a campaign contribution?
I’m getting to be an old lady and won’t enjoy all that many more years in the great outdoors. But, as a parent, grandparent, and friend to those who like what I stand for, I can leave the legacy that was handed down to me by my ancestors. While I’m still able and as long as these arthritic fingers can type, I can use the written word to stand up for what I believe is right, just, and in the best interest of my American family and generations of them yet to come. For now, that remains a freedom.
I do it for Julie Kay, Candace Elizabeth, Mike, Avery, Brandon, Hannah, Katie, Danny in Georgia, Bobby, Andrea, Jordan, little Ayden, Al and his offspring, and all their children’s children.
~C.J. Williams
I'm a member of the United States Sportsmen's Alliance, the Outspoken Sportsmen of Michigan, the American Land Rights Association, the Otter Lake Sportsmen's Club, the WomenHunters Club, and the Second Amendment Sisters.
I'm also National Advertising Coordinator for the 2005 Midwest National NRLHF Primitive Rendezvous, the details of which can be found at www.mwpr2005.com. I also write an outdoor sportsmen's column, On Target with C.J. Williams, for a small U.P. weekly paper, The Lake Superior Voice, published in Ontonagon, MI. by owner and editor, Sandy Baker, another outdoor sports minded lady of the land.
