I’ m wondering about this as it becomes more prevalent. I call it the “but what about?” syndrome.
The syndrome kicks in when someone is accused of anything, from a serious crime to hurling a simple verbal insult. No sooner is the perpetrator called for the infraction, whatever it is, that he or she responds with a “but what about” and names some other person who allegedly committed the same or similar infractions in the past to excuse their behavior.
This is not a political post, although politics contains much of the “but what about” syndrome. It is a simple… Continue reading
Hannah on the left, Grammie Barbara in the middle, and Ben on the right!
I’ve been somewhat busy with a wonderful visit from our grandkids from Maryland and tomorrow will be going back east with them so blog posts have not been on the priority list.
I thank those who have commented on recent posts and continue to stay interested.
Until next week, I leave you all with this thought. Horseback riding is a lot easier when one is “younger.” I did manage to mount my horse and have a nice hour ride with my wife and the grandkids. However,… Continue reading
This was posted in June, 2017. It is timely in the sense that it mentions the 4th of July.
At the time, I thought the information I supplied was important and I still do. Of course, no one can ever know what became of this tip because the NHSP are absolutely on top of everything in this case. Remember, the “arrest is imminent” comment of several years ago?
To the folks in Wolfeboro and surrounding towns: Are you concerned in the least that this person may still walk among you?
The more years that go by, the less chance you… Continue reading
I truly appreciate the thoughtfulness and effort and heartfelt emotion that goes into all the events commemorating the anniversary of a brutal, heinous crime, the murder of Stacey Burns. So now, it is three days after the ninth anniversary.
My only question? How much closer to arresting this killer are we than we were at the last anniversary, or the one before that, or before that?
The golf tournaments, the 5K runs, and the expressions of grief and sorrow are great, but how much closer are we, New Hampshire State Police?
Sure seems like a simple question, doesn’t it?
Within the last week, I was contacted by an NBC Cable News affiliate in Boston. They wanted to do an interview regarding the Stacey Burns murder case. I turned down the offer since it had to be a live interview (no Skype or similar thing) in studio. The trip was impractical for me for a number of reasons.
My hope is that they found someone else in the New England area to do an interview about the case, if for no other reason than it might help bring more exposure to the ninth anniversary of Stacey’s death.
I’ve also heard… Continue reading
In yesterday’s post, portions, for whatever reason, were left out. This is a repeat of that paragraph with the missing words.
Today, I share a portion of a comment to a post from a week ago. It just gives us an important fact to remember in the killing of Stacey Burns. I thought it bears emphasizing. “What people fail to realize is that we are not looking for a killer; we are looking for a monster. . . Killing a mother of five knowing that the children will discover her mutilated body on Mother’s Day morning is a crime of… Continue reading
Sixty four years since my last horseback ride, I finally climbed back on last Saturday. Here, from my short personal essay, “The Dude Ranch” are a few snippets of my experience as a thirteen year old spending three days at a dude ranch in northern New Jersey. (yes, I said New Jersey!)
“When he finished his demonstrations, Cowboy Earl turned to face us. “Now, let’s get acquainted with our animals,” he said, intoning a final piece of advice. “And make sure you let them know you’re the boss, right from the get go.”
My horse’s name is erased… Continue reading
The bitter cold currently holding so much of the country in a seeming death grip brought back memories of our dramatic move from the mild climes of New Jersey to the harsh winters of New Hampshire in December of 1970.
For three months, we rented an older, very large house on N. Main Street in Wolfeboro, N.H. Overnight, the first night of our living there, the new studded nylon tires we had brought in Jersey to help our Ford Country Sedan deal with the snow developed flat spots frozen into them because the car was not garaged,… Continue reading