Rick’s Blog

There were some afternoon thunderstorms rumbling around today, and I went out on the front porch to enjoy the blustery winds and revel in the thunder. No, I didn’t get struck by lightening, but the sun was shining through the clouds when I saw this doe and her fawn cross the road. I grabbed my camera and ran (okay, at my age: I trundled) across the front yard. We aren’t exactly suburban, but we aren’t exactly rural either, so seeing the deer is not unusual but nice. Just the same, I wanted to get a photo of these local critters and share it with you. They paused in a little wooded hollow across the street and gave me this shot. I hope they stay around.

For those of you who may not yet know (I haven’t made an official announcement) the Kindle Edition of my novel, Melody Hill is available for the ridiculously low price for $0.99 Cents on Amazon. Sign up for my newsletter at www.rickdestefanis.com and you will receive the link to order the book. Why?  Because I want more people to read my books and hopefully build a base of readers who like my stuff. By the way, this is Book #1 of the two-part series The Gomorrah Principle. It has a little bit of everything including romance, mystery, espionage and historically accurate fiction about the war in Vietnam.

One of my dear friends sent me a note saying she had a tablet,  but didn’t have a Kindle. Not to worry. Did you know you can go to Amazon and download an app that will let you download and read Kindle books on tablets and other mobile devices? Yup. Sure ‘nough.

As always, if you read one of my books and like it, please post a review on Amazon. Tell people what you liked about it. Next week I will post an update (the first one) on my next novel.

Love, Rick D.

You may also enjoy: Valley of the Purple Hearts

 

You will NEVER hear a real SOG Soldier Talk

Here’s a real team of heroes–a Green Beret SOG-Special Operations Group

. They don’t blow their own horns. Unlike some branches of our military, you’ll not see bestseller stories of operations they’ve been on, because they understand and truly put the honor code of silence above their longings for personal recognition. They understand that exercises in self-aggrandizement may endanger their buddies or the next generations of special operations troops. They are Army Green Berets.

One of these men was my classmate at Bishop Byrne High School in Memphis, and we were in the Explorer Scouts together. He was one of the guiding models that led me to become a paratrooper. He would not want me to mention his name, therefore I won’t, but I will tell a very small part of his story.

He was a HALO trained and qualified Special Operations Group Green Beret, small arms specialist who made HALO insertions into Laos and Cambodia during the Vietnam War. What is HALO? Well, the acronym stands for High Altitude Low Opening. What that means is that these Army—not Marine, not SEAL—Army Special Forces, AKA Green Berets, jumped, usually from a C-130 aircraft at some ridiculously high altitude that required they use oxygen bottles till they got down (skydived) below twelve thousand feet. They followed a leader down through the sky. The leader had a small strobe light on the back of his helmet. And they pulled the ripcord on their chutes at some ridiculously low altitude, usually one where if the main chute failed, the reserve was useless.

Some of these teams left their aircraft back in the sixties to never be heard from again, their only memorial being a name on the black granite wall of the Vietnam Memorial. Think what you want about that particular war, but judge these men as the heroes they were. Facing overwhelming odds, they did what they could to stem the flow of communist soldiers coming down the Ho Chi Minh Trail, enemy troops with the sole mission of killing American soldiers in South Vietnam.

Later, my classmate went on combat deployments to Panama, Iraq, Afghanistan and some that can’t be mentioned, because they remain classified operations. No, this is not Veterans Day or Memorial Day. It’ just another day you draw a breath of the fresh air of freedom because men like these put their lives on the line for you. Enjoy it, but never forget what they did for you.

Thanks, Buddy.

You may also enjoy: Valley of the Purple Hearts and Rawlings: No Longer Young

Bulletin From The Rural South

Update: January 2018, IT’S COLD!!  No snakes, no skeeters, just cold. Outside of the lack of snakes and skeeters, the other silver lining is we aren’t getting blasted with snow like the poor folks up east. I went down to the Coldwater River bottoms the other day in search of a “wilwy” whitetail deer (think Elmer Fudd). The beaver sloughs, swamps and everything but the main river is frozen solid. I asked myself why anyone in his right mind would be out here in minus 0-degree windchills, but I believe the question provided its own answer. Kind of reminded me of some of my characters in Tallahatchie. “What would Dewayne and JT do?” They’d have built a big fire, burned down half the forest, probably caught their clothes on fire and jumped into the river to save themselves. You can read more about them in the novel based on the people and experiences I have encountered growing up here in the South. If Tallahatchie doesn’t make you laugh out loud, it will at least have you shaking your head and crying.

Check it out at Tallahatchie Southern Fiction Book One: ebook

July 31, 2017

Folks, sorry if I’ve been remiss in my postings. Life sort of got in the way for the last month or so. We said farewell to my wife’s mother, celebrated our daughter’s birthday and our 42^nd wedding anniversary. That and I came out with the new novel, “Tallahatchie.” Those events and the new book have taken up a lot of my time. But anyway, I’m back.

And today’s post closely follows the theme in Tallahatchie: life in the modern South. Normally, I post one of my bird photos every week or so, but today I have something different.

This morning while enjoying my first cup of coffee I received a text message from my neighbor Tish Pierce. A photo of a couple snakes was attached to her text: “Poisonous or not?”

One look and it was obvious. “Poisonous,” I replied.

The phone rang almost immediately. “They’re still down here, near the back gate.” The excitement in her voice was unmistakable.

“I’m going to grab my camera and I’ll be down there in a few minutes,” I said.

When I arrived, Tish and her husband, Jeff Aker, were looking at two mature copperheads (pictured). I am still not sure if it was a dance of love or a dance of combat, but perhaps someone who knows can tell us. Anyone who has ever been to a bar in the South knows it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference.

After getting the photo, we discussed our options.

Since having grown up in the south, I have heard of at least two instances where dogs have been fatally bitten by copperheads. Tish and Jeff have two. My suggestion was that we remove the two snakes from their yard. We did.

You may also enjoy: Tallahatchie Everything Coming Up Roses So to Speak