William A. Vance – Masonic Funeral

This is a 2006 post  from another blog – but one I wanted to make certain was included here.

William Vance. Age: about 20. Era: WWII. Job: tail gunner.

My father-in-law, William A. Vance Jr. will have a Masonic Funeral Service tomorrow morning. Reading this paragraph from his obituary in The Daily Gate City, you can see why it is fitting:

He was a 50-year member of Denver Lodge 464, Denver, Ill., Gate City Chapter 7, Royal Arch Masons, Damancers Commandery 5 Knights Templain, Apolla Council of Keokuk, Valley of Quincy Consistory, KAABA Shrine of Davenport, Order of Eastern Star and served as district deputy grand master of the Seventh Western District of the State of Illinois in 1982 and 1983. He was awarded the York Rite Cross of Honor in 1953. He also was a member of the Past Masters and Past Commanders of the York Rite, State of Iowa. Recently, he received an award for 50 years of loyal service from the Quincy Consistory. He served as captain of the Keokuk Chief Patrol for the Keokuk Shriners. He received the E.L. Lawrence Award for an Outstanding Mason in 2000.

Masonic funeral services will be at 10:30 a.m. Saturday in Lamporte Funeral Home, Carthage, with the Denver Masonic Lodge officiating.

Following is the conclusion of the service cited above:

There is no death. What seems so is transition. All that is beautiful and good and true in human life is no more affected by the shadow of death than by the darkness that divides today from tomorrow.

Our paths lead not to the grave but through it. Immortal we are and ever shall be. We look not to another life, but to the perfecting of this one. In God’s good time we shall be raised by His right hand to that higher, fairer phase of life for which this is only the preparation.

Friendship is refreshment and sweetness as we pass this way. It is much to feel that, wherever we are, we have friends, and that their friends are ours as well. Our Brother’s friends are lonely in this hour, but the friendship we felt for him extends to them. We, too, loved him.

We, too, feel the pain of parting. Our sympathy, our love, are theirs as they were his. Our entire fraternity surrounds his loved ones with the assurance of its affection. We offer the support of our sympathy, the comfort of our faith, the inspiration of our hope, that they, with us, may look beyond this hour through the opening portals of the infinite. So then, let us be unceasingly grateful for every God-given virtue which the life of our Brother expressed, and let us be comforted and sustained by the assurance that life goes on unbroken and uncorrupted and that God alone is the life and light of men.

AND HERE IS A RELATED POST: A REMEMBRANCE OF WILLIAM VANCE by Wayne Botkins.

As I have written, my father-in-law, William A. Vance, passed away last Tuesday and was laid to rest following a Masonic Funeral at Harmony Cemetery on Saturday. What follows is an emailed memory of him from his high school days:

This by cousin Wayne Botkin:

My best recollection of Bill Vance was in 1941;we we were at
Carthage High;Bill was a sophomore and I, a senior & on the
varsity football–Bill played guard and I, tackle. Bill
being two years younger and smaller played only parttime.
When Bill was in the game he played long side of me. When
a running play was over our side, I would say “Come on Bill.”
We opened holes many times for the running back to make a
good gain. Oftentimes when we were unscrambling from a
pile-up, Bill’s helmut (being too large) would be half
turned on his head and I could only see a big smile on his
face. Yes, Bill was “tough and scrappy” which he had to use
too many times during his life.
Yes, I am proud to have been his cousin. May his soul rest in
peace.

Waurika Rattlesnakes 2009 – They’re baaaaaack

I discovered the Waurika Rattlesnake Hunt last year and I wrote about it HERE. That post includes info on the entertainment there – both last year and this – you know –

James White & the Outlaw Handlers– Grandbury, Texas — Performing Feats Daring and Courageous in a pit filled with LIVE Rattlesnakes.

Actually, I don’t know if I would feel compelled to go if I lived close enough . . . When I was little and we would go to a zoo, I always wanted to visit the reptiles first. Was that because I was so frightened of them I wanted to get it over or because I wanted to look at something which could freeze me with terror.

I think the fact that they don’t have legs bothers me the most – the fast, fast slithering and the head and upper body being able to spring forward in the blink of an eye. I guess arms on a human could snap forward and punch me in the nose pretty fast, but I don’t think about that for some reason.

I can’t remember not knowing about the Rudyard Kipling stories of cobras and the days of ropes that could be pulled to summon servants and a murderer putting a poisonous shake through the hole in the wall so it could crawl down the rope and bite a sleeping person. See, I am upset enough to write run-on sentences again.

When my grandfather was farming and they cut and baled hay, my uncle said there would always be a rattler in one of the bails . . . that was his least favorite job on the farm – helping with the hay bales. Rattlesnakes are scarce here now – although a hundred years ago when my grandmother moved into a house by a lake, the family discovered a snake nest in the cellar. One big snake crawled up into a wall and stuck his head out a hole in that wall. My grandmother used a broom to keep hitting it back until someone came, got a shotgun and blew its head off. Wait a minute – they fired a shotgun in the house? That seems odd. Well, desperate times lead to desperate measures, I suppose.

Maybe I would be drawn to the festival as I am sometimes drawn to watch scary movies. I might have to duct tape myself to a wall for that weekend to keep me from going. Yet, I live in an old house with a fruit cellar – what if a snake gnawed a hole in the wall right where I was taped? Oh, Lordy!

Now I am thinking that these Oklahomans just go out around where they live and find these snakes for the roundup. So for me, if I lived there, every day would be snake day. I would buy a shotgun, maybe two . . . and wear boots . . . and not sit in the grass.

I am a wimp . . . or Indiana Jonesette – Snakes! Why did it have to be snakes? I hate snakes!

Now, gummy worms . . . they’re pretty cool.

Kendallville Home & Garden Show – 2009

I usually get on this site daily so that if someone who is blond with blue eyes and a former Marine gets it into his head to see what HIS MOTHER is doing, there will be something here to read that says,”Yes, YOUR MOTHER is here and thinking of you. As is your dog, SYDNEY. But yesterday I got sidetracked . . . but I am here now. Back. In the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse . . .

Okay, yesterday Der Bingle and I went to the local home show; it’s probably been going about 8-10 years now. It was sunny and a lot of people were there and some interesting vendors, including the one (CountryScapes and Gardens), from whom I purchased the planter accessory known as MooseHead that wound up on a Christmas tree

moosehead

. . . as well as CatHead

cat-head1

and CowHead.

cowhead

Der Bingle bought something for his apartment involving water; he asked me to say no more – I guess it is a surprise for Grover who sought sanctuary there following some “episodes” with Summer.

The Master Gardeners were there and giving out food made with herbs. We got in line and along with cake and cookies got a small cup of punch. I didn’t realize it at the time because in my haste to reach the food line, I had walked right by the sign that announced the theme of the presentation: Lavender and Old Lace.

The punch was pink – not hot pink, more like pink grapefruit pink. I tasted it and then asked, “What kind of punch is this?” The answer was Lavender Punch and I immediately thought, “Oh, my God, I’m drinking ground up little old ladies” – something I am very close to being myself. I didn’t care for it, but Der Bingle said it was okay, so I gave him mine.

The lady told me how it was made and I think Der Bingle paid attention. I was still thinking about the little old lady factor, which led me to thoughts of Zero Mostel in the original “The Producers” and how Colin Powell said that was his favorite movie and he loved the part about “little old lady land”. Did that sentence get a little long? Well, that makes it a typical AmeliaJake sentence, according to Der Bingle.

And when I went back to grab, MooseHead, CatHead and CowHead, I found this nice picture of Cameron from a year ago this month:

nice-picture-of-cameron