Huli is Getting Stronger

Several weeks had gone by and it was time to walk outside. The veterinarian said Huli should walk twice a day for five minutes and increase by one minute of exercise every day.  Out came the harness for a walk down the street.  Huli could not figure this strange contraption out, and she fought with her good leg, with her mouth; she rolled on her back and wiggled around.  Huli had never worn a collar or anything.  Emma thought it was like putting a harness on a tyrannosaurus.  Finally, the harness was on and Huli was outside limping along next to Emma to the end of the street and back.  She was always happy to go back in the house and to her safe space and Iggie.  She would lay down on her soft pillows exhausted by the walk.

Twice a day, Huli would walk with Emma and every day the time outside increased. She started to get stronger.  When they got back to the house, Huli got a treat.  This was the best part of the walk.

Huli would also go outside in the backyard for a few minutes every day but just waited with her head on her paws to go back inside.  She wasn’t interested in anything outside yet.  Some days Emma sat outside with Huli for a little while. 

After a couple of weeks of daily limps down the street and daily outside time, Huli thought being outside felt less scary.  She still liked it better when someone was outside with her.  Emma was there every day to talk to Huli and give her food and water.  Her skin, headaches, and stomach were completely healed.  Her leg still hurt but she was beginning to figure out how to walk and run a little without too much pain.

After two months of daily walks, time at the park and time outside in the backyard, Huli was feeling much better.  Then, it happened!  Emma let Huli out in the backyard and Iggie came too.  Huli threw Iggie up in the air and ran—crazy happy with Iggie—back and forth to Emma.  Her leg hurt but she was so happy to be outside with Iggie and Emma.  After a couple of minutes of this, Huli lay down with Iggie, chewed Iggie a little and looked at her backyard.  She didn’t feel afraid of her backyard anymore.  Emma and Iggie stayed outside with her for a while before Huli went back to her space, her bed and her house.  Iggie continued to go outside with Huli, and now she also had a ball.  She could not chase the ball yet because she had to limit her movement with the broken leg but she could chew it.

Huli’s Broken Leg

Soon Huli felt good enough to look around her space.  What was that?  Huli saw a kitty.  Emma, who Huli knew was very special, was feeding the kitty.  Boo, the kitty, appeared to hate Huli and hissed at her.  Huli was not afraid, because she was inside and protected in her space.  She was, however, interested in the kitty and kept a keen eye on her.  In Huli’s space, the gates that kept her from moving around too much so her broken leg had a chance to heal, also kept her from being able to have fun with Boo.  

Huli had been in this space for over a week now and was feeling stronger; she could limp around when she was taken outside, but she still did not like being outside.  She did like Iggie and being around people.  She noticed every night, another friendly face, Ted, came home.  Ted would pat and sit with Huli.  

Huli had been to the veterinarian four times in the last two weeks.  Emma was giving pills to her several times a day and the bad sore on her stomach was improving.   She was also going for many rides on a soft bed in the car with Emma.  Emma, Ted, and the veterinarian talked about Huli’s broken leg bone.  Would it grow together well enough since it wasn’t set right after it was broken and it was not straight?   Should the doctor amputate the leg?  Everyone knew this leg would be an ongoing, nagging pain for Huli–maybe for the rest of her life–but they also knew that amputation has a lot of challenges also.  They decided to wait and see.  Huli would have time to get better, grow and try to heal the bone.

Huli’s Life Starts To Turn Around

To Huli’s surprise she was not put outside again. She spent the night inside in a hard crate, but it was nice to be inside.  When Huli woke up the next day, the friendly, beautiful face was back.  Emma, as Huli would find out, was the friendly face who was taking her home.  Huli was riding in a car again.  When they came to a large house on a tree-lined street, Huli was brought inside.  Everything still hurt and she was still so sad.  More food and water, and this time a really comfortable bed in a crate.  Because she hurt everywhere, it was nice to have a soft bed, and she fell asleep again.  What Huli didn’t know was the medicine would get rid of the hookworms and her stomach was going to feel better soon.  The special food was for a starving puppy and that would help her stomach pain, too.  The bath was with special soap to get rid of fleas and ticks so her skin felt better.  She was given special medicine that fights infections for sores on her stomach.  She continued to sleep, which is just what a sick puppy needs.  Every few hours, this now-familiar person, Emma, woke her up and carried her outside to do her business.  Huli hated being outside.  It was still too scary for her but Emma stayed close by and brought her right back inside to her very soft bed.  Huli was so weak she couldn’t be happy, or play or even bark.   

Huli was given medicine several times a day so she would sleep and gain enough strength to limp around. She was also given a toy: Iggie, a soft, green iguana, to sleep with, chew, and keep her company.  She was given two more special baths, and although she did not like baths, she was too weak to fight them.  Now, instead of a brown, dirty dog, Huli had become a black and white spotted puppy that the veterinarian said would weigh around 50 pounds when full grown.  After four days of medicine and sleeping, she woke up and found she was feeling much better.  Her head, skin, and stomach didn’t hurt as much.  Her leg hurt a lot but the comfortable bed sure helped.  Emma talked to Huli in a soothing voice and laid down with her so she was less anxious but still very sad.  

Huli Was Just a Puppy

Huli was just a puppy, but she knew something was terribly wrong with her.  Huli’s head hurt, her stomach hurt, her skin hurt, but her leg hurt most of all. 

She lived all alone in the park.  She was filthy, sad, hungry, and weak, lying with her eyes closed. Suddenly she heard a noise and felt someone close to her.  Huli opened her eyes to see a friendly and concerned face, so she slowly wagged her tail the best she could.

The friendly face was close to her so Huli did her best to stand and look presentable, hoping for food. But she was too weak and sick to stand very long. and soon she plopped back down.

This beautiful, friendly face stayed with Huli until she fell asleep again.  When she woke up,  the person was putting her in a car.  She was glad to be out of the park, but it hurt so much to be bumped and jostled around.  She tried to get comfortable, but the movement of the car, the feel of the seat and the strangeness of it all were too much.  She just closed her eyes and endured the pain.

The friendly face took Huli to a kindly veterinarian who helped puppies like her.  She was given water and special food.  Even though it hurt her stomach, she was glad to have it.  Someone gentle gave her a bath, some pills, and an x-ray to find out what was wrong.  She tried to think about her mother and the good times “before” but the memory of “before” was fading.  The doctor said her sore leg had been badly broken around five weeks before.  Huli was only five months old, so that leg had hurt a lot for most of her young life. 

 

Fighting for Repeal

So I remember coming back from that deployment and I got an opportunity to go to grad school and then go back and teach at West Point, pending successful company command. I was accepted to go to the Kennedy School at Harvard to do a master’s in public policy. And I thought that this would be a really important breather.

When I got to Harvard, all of the sudden I was in a civilian environment without those buddies and close friends who I had just had this very significant experience with. I remember being really kind of out of sorts and depressed. It’s sort of tough to be isolated in a way from the people who know what you’ve been through and so it made for a tougher start.

It also gave me an opportunity to really start thinking about myself and who I was. My entire time in the military up to that point was serving under the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy which I think by that point, 13,000 members were discharged. When I was at West Point I think I had a sense that I was gay, I understood what it meant and I knew what it was but I sort of believed, no I’m not going to date or be out. I knew that this is how I was going to go through college and be able to afford college, and so I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize my career in the military or my time at West Point.

But as I went through the military and saw the diversity there, I started to realize, ‘I actually don’t really think my soldiers would care if I was gay.’ So I started to recognize that this policy is kicking people out, but this is a military that doesn’t really seem to need this policy and it’s actually quite capable of integrating people of different backgrounds.

So when I got to Harvard it was like my first chance to kind of realize, maybe I don’t need to be alone and single and closeted and hiding and lying about my identity all the time, maybe that’s not the way to live.

I think part of this came from a time when I did this cross country bike trip. When you spend 8 hours a day on a bike from Outer Banks, North Carolina to San Diego, California, you do a lot of reflecting and I think that I just realized, you know, you can’t run from who you are. Lying to your friends is not right. West Point teaches these very important values, this honor code that you live by and you should live by even when you’ve left that place and then you know I knew within a few years of me going back to teach at West Point and stand in front of cadets and this idea that I would sort of continue to lie to them because there was this policy that the military didn’t need just didn’t really make any sense to me.

I realized that the only way to make this policy go away is to stand up for what you think is right. So I came out to my commander at the time. They did some sort of investigation – I don’t know what in the world that entailed. I guess they interviewed some people to make sure I was telling the truth. And then I was discharged, fortunately it was honorable. And then I was out of the military Dec. of 2008, a little more than five years into my time.

But I realized there was a need to continue to push for this repeal because this didn’t make sense. I never ever took issue with service members or people who I served with. It always was with this policy and what the policy asked LGBT troops to do and to lie to their peers and whatnot. And so obviously advocated for repeal, it was a real honor to do so and I had the opportunity to speak on TV and write OpEds and you know even tour parts of the country talking about this stuff.

It was – I think it took awhile. Barack Obama was elected shortly thereafter and so there was sort of this perfect window to change this policy. The Obama administration was actually somewhat reluctant, you know obviously they had a lot of priorities, a lot of things going on – they were slow to enact repeal. But eventually it came, right?

So I guess that was in December 2010 – it was passed in the lame duck session. That sort of played out over the course of a couple years, and during that time I began this administrative process of actually getting back into the Army. I was excited about the service and I enjoyed that aspect; I wanted to continue serving in some capacity. And so the reserves seemed like a perfectly great way to serve but it took a long time.

It wasn’t actually until I ran totally by chance into General Tammy Smith at a human rights campaign dinner. We ran into each other and I thanked her for who she was and she said good job working on repeal and she said, hey, if you ever need any help to get back in, let me know. She handed me a card and I thought it was just somebody being nice. Turns out she was the Chief of Staff to the US Army Reserves so it was the perfect person who could absolutely help.

So that was on a Saturday, I didn’t read the card right away. I pulled it out of my tuxedo or whatever pocket on Sunday and I read her title and was like oh wow, this person can help, this is insane. Monday, I think I sent her an email. By Friday, I think the process had kicked off and the next week I had orders. But that wasn’t until Dec. 2014, something around that time frame. So it wasn’t until 2015 that I was able to fully get back into the Army reserves. And General Smith actually swore me back in which was a real honor. It was also very cool to do that with my husband.

I had full faith that service members would be very professional. That faith was very much well-placed because it was very clear that when I rejoined there was no issues, it was kind of a non-issue, people were very respectful and you know you get minor jokes here and there and people make minor comments and whatnot, like sure, and my experience is my own, I can’t speak for literally every other gay and lesbian and bisexual service member but everyone I know has had a pretty consistent experience that’s been mostly positive and very professional.

I look back on this all today, this is now over 20 years, and there’s a lot of cynicism today about where we are as a country and where we are politically. I think it’s that experience at West Point and the army – of meeting people with very different backgrounds and very different political views and realizing that all those things can go away when you bring a group of people together and you focus them on something really important or when you put them in life and death situations. I always go back to this experience in the military and realize that there’s a lot more that unites us and binds us and we too often fail to realize that. In the Army you get a random drawing of enlisted people and NCOs who work for you. And you don’t have a choice. You didn’t read their resume, you didn’t hire them, you didn’t screen them, you didn’t advertise for them, right? It is who they are and what it does is it makes you, it forces you to look for the skills – and you can’t fire them right? So it forces you to look for the best in every single person; because you are going to have to draw that out of all of them, and bring that together in a cohesive way, and build a team, and do something that’s really, really difficult- together. And that makes me hopeful.

Deployments and Homecomings

I graduated in 2003 as an armor officer and I had orders to go to Fort Carson, Colorado. I was just barely highly ranked enough at West Point where I got the absolute last slot to go there. But then as I was graduating from Fort Knox, someone came to our officer class and said, ‘we need officers to volunteer and take national guard platoons on deployment.’ They needed 14 to step up and do that and I was one of the ones who volunteered. I was also really proud that 13 of the 14 volunteers to go to war were my classmates from West Point.

I met the unit shortly after Christmas in Fort Bragg and we were at Fort Polk by January for a month training rotation, and then we were off on our deployment to Iraq by February of 2004. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect going to lead a National Guard platoon from West Virginia. My platoon was mostly white with the exception of one soldier. I stuck out like a sore thumb in most ways – I’m this black Californian who went to West Point who now leads soldiers from the West Virginia National Guard.

But we shed all of our differences, politically, ethnically, geographically. We quickly grew to care for one another and got to know one another very, very well and we were pretty quickly off on a pretty important and somewhat scary journey together. Once we deployed, our mission in Iraq really varied. A lot of training of the Iraqi Army and a lot of convoy escorts. So we spent a lot of time on the road doing a lot of route clearance.. We had a sector with a very large perimeter – we’re talking probably hundreds of square miles per platoon of 16 that we were supposed to be aware of. That deployment was north and east of Baghdad between the Iraq and Iran border. We had a lot more smuggling so you know we set up a lot of checkpoints, did a lot of searching of vehicles and searching of places that we thought were ultimately weigh stations for insurgents who were on their way to support the more kinetic activities that were going on in Baghdad and the larger cities.

We were always sort of on the go but you find ways to just kind of enjoy life – create some normalcy and hang out with one another. Run a lot, work out a lot. I’d probably scream today but you spend a lot of time with this low-cost, low-bandwidth internet cafes. They were pretty strict on not allowing WiFi where the housing area was so I remember sort of making this daily multi-mile walk in 120 degree heat to this very shabby internet cafe. I remember ploughing through multiple seasons of the West Wing on my now very dusty computer. You kind of break up the key elements of daily life, you know?

Later in our deployment, we were doing our sort of standard early morning route probably just after 6 or 7 in the morning and I remember for whatever reason that day we decided to mix up the convoy order so I was the second vehicle. We were cruising at 45-55 mph down this highway and I remember just looking out the window, scanning the road or whatever, and then all of a sudden, I remember I opened my eyes and the next thing I know I’m looking at what appeared to be just a wall of dirt and smoke and debris and it didn’t make any sense. I almost feel like everything kind of slowed down. It’s also kind of a weird sensory experience. I remember just looking at this wall of dirt and debris and having to kind of wrap my head around, what in the world am I looking at? This is extremely strange and then I realized, well wait a minute, that’s an explosion and there was a vehicle in front of me and I can’t see the vehicle. And then you know I sort of didn’t realize it but everything was kind of silent, and the next sound I heard was me talking on the radio. I was checking on the status of the vehicle ahead of me. It was a complex attack and so the insurgents set off an IED but then they also started firing at the convoy. I remember giving orders to the platoon to fire back but to also push through. The vehicle in front of us, the guys were banged up, a couple of them got concussions, certainly busted eardrums, but none of them permanently damaged. That was the closest I came to losing soldiers was that particular attack. A couple of guys got purple hearts for that and it really shook them up.

It’s interesting looking back on my time in Iraq. I felt like we as a nation kind of rushed to judgement. It didn’t appear that there was much of a connection between 9/11 and Iraq and Saddam Hussein, it felt like the evidence was confirmation biased, everything felt just felt off to me, you know? But I knew that I didn’t want my soldiers to pay the price for what felt like a bad political decision. I think the mission becomes your fellow soldier, right? The mission becomes, I will execute orders and I will carry out missions that are not illegal, unethical, or immoral and first and foremost I’ll be thinking about the safety and wellbeing of my fellow soldiers. I also recognize that soldiers at war can make mistakes and those mistakes can do real damage to innocent civilians and property, so there’s a need to make sure you conduct yourself ethically and you need good officers to do that.

So it became very easy to be really motivated to lead my soldiers well, take care of their wellbeing, bring them home alive, and make sure that we didn’t do anything that we would be ashamed to talk about with our families when we did get home. Over two deployments, that was something that I was really most proud of was the ability to do that and over both deployments, 81 soldiers all of them came home alive.

We got home just shortly after Christmas and I remember constantly scanning the room and constantly looking for violence or danger to unfold without warning. You don’t realize it but your body is sort of like a naturally permanently clenched fist and it takes a long time for that to unwind and unravel and for you to relax. You observe your civilian peers and friends and everyone else, and for them the war was nothing more than something that scrolled by on the bottom of the screen. This thing that felt all-consuming and very important to you and your fellow soldiers was completely unimportant to people back home.

Part of that is a national decision not to fully involve all aspects of society in carrying out American foreign policy. And so it becomes this thing that a very small number of people will do and no one outside the military has to make any real sacrifices. I wouldn’t say that I was mad or cynical but I had this reflection of, ‘huh, I guess what I did doesn’t really matter to other people.’ I remember feeling so out of place as a result of that.

My next assignment was to basically pick up where I left off so I was going to go to Fort Carson, CO and my unit that I was supposed to go to had just left for Iraq. I remember thinking, well, I feel so out of place, I don’t want to stick around. I don’t want to be in the United States.

So I requested a waiver to turn around and join the 3rd ACR in Iraq. I had five months between deployments, and I thought I was well enough rested, I thought I was prepared to go back but the moment I got back overseas and caught up with the unit, what took four or five months to get really exhausted during the first deployment, it probably took one or two months to feel just as sort of burnt out and tired.

When I arrived, the regimental commander of the 3rd ACR was Colonel H. R. McMaster, the hero from 73 Easting who I read about in school. We were this really well-equipped, really highly skilled unit and we were in a much, much more dangerous place in Tal Afar, which was the north west of Mosul. Tal Afar had become this real stronghold for Al-Qaeda and Iraq and other insurgent groups. When I got there, I quickly took over the support platoon, which is the platoon that’s responsible for food, fuel, ammo, logistics, all that sort of stuff.

So I think 64 soldiers were in the platoon and a lot of fuel trucks, which is a scary thing to drive around; I have a lot of respect for guys who can do that day in and day out. There were whole swaths of the city that couldn’t – you know American units could not patrol without immediately coming under fire and so it became very clear that this was a city that could soon be out of control if things didn’t change. So that deployment was where H.R. McMaster and my squadron commander, Lieutenant Colonel Hickey, developed this precursor to what was the clear hold and build strategy. This was 2005, and we built a huge dirt berm around the city. We set up checkpoints and started to clear out the city using psychological operations and pamphlets and leaflets and all that stuff. We made it clear that if you’re still here after x date, you’re saying you’re here to fight. This was I believe at the time a 250-300K city; it was gigantic. We cleared out this whole city and then I think we had an additional unit from the 82nd Airborne join us to sort of plus us up, we had additional squadrons sort of flex resources towards us.

I think we probably went 30-45 days of sustained operations. I remember fighting alongside kurdish peshmerga. They were incredibly skilled fighters which sort of makes our most recent decision to betray them as an ally really kind of sting. I remember, I think we had about 2,000 Kurdish troops who were fighting alongside us. It was really incredible to see how skilled and capable they were.

The operation was successful and we essentially moved off of our FOB and into the city. We built over a dozen really well hardened checkpoints, compounds within the city, causing my role as a support platoon leader to become much more dynamic. And the strategy worked. We cleared out the bad guys, we moved into the city, and we held it and what that immediately did was made it clear to the Iraqi population that you can actually trust us: If you have information about bad actors you can tell us because we’re not going to go away at night to go back to our FOB, you can trust us to use this information to stop these people. And things really changed significantly from that point forward and I think that’s why it became a model that people like General Petraeus later integrated into his kind of broader approach for all of Iraq.

Sammy and Betty, from the Beginning

Insert BlakelyPB64 Sammy and Betty, newly wed

“We’re spoiled rotten!”  Living up on a hill in the Irish countryside, in a home of their own design, with a beautiful, half-acre garden, Betty and Sammy have come a long way from their very modest childhood.  Their lives now reflect the benefit of being married to one’s best friend, the blessing of God on their family, the reward of hard work and diligence, and the positive changes that have happened in their community and country over their lifetimes. Insert BlakelyPB11 Betty and Sammy’s home, “Prospect”   Insert BlakelyPB12 garden   Insert BlakelyPB13 well-themed garden

On December 28, 1939, Sammy was born to Fred and Hannah Blakely, the second youngest of twelve children. The four boys, eight girls and two parents lived in Derry City, Northern Ireland, in a house with two bedrooms upstairs and two rooms downstairs.  They had an outdoor toilet and no hot water.  His father had been a soldier in both the 1914 to 1918 and the 1939 to 1945 world wars, then worked at a labouring job, and his mother naturally ran the house, reared, fed, and clothed everyone—a truly remarkable woman.  “During the time I was reared,” said Sammy, “in Ireland they would have called it a time of ‘need,’ rather than a time of ‘have’, but my mother made sure we had what we needed.”  The main jobs during the time were held by women.  Derry had six or seven shirt factories, and the women left their homes and went to work at those factories.  A song about Derry says that the women worked in the shirt factories and the men stayed at home with the kids and walked the dog.  Now, only Sammy and another sibling survive from their family.  Insert Blakely1.4 Sammy’s parents on either side of Freddie holding their grandson Michael McMenamin

While most of Sammy’s family remained in Ireland, his brother Fred settled his family in Scotland.  Once when they came to visit, their 11-month-old son, Freddie Jr., took ill and was not fit to travel back to Scotland with his family.  Sammy’s parents agreed to keep him until he was well, but instead Freddie stayed with Sammy’s family permanently; he was raised as a brother to the siblings yet living at home, and still lives in Ireland.  Insert BlakelyPB15  Sammy in front with brother/nephew Freddie and his wife, Mary; nephew Willie and his wife, Kathy

At nine years old, Sammy joined the local flute band and remained a member for 14 years, finally becoming the band piccolo player.  Insert Blakely1.3 Sammy in the band, second row behind the bass drummer

He attended the Christian Brothers Technical school from age 12 to age 16, when he left to take a job as an apprentice electrician, working on the Royal Navy Reserve fleet for seven years.  He was the only member of his family to attain a second level of education.  The rest left school at the age of 14.  The girls worked in the shirt factories.  His brothers delivered the post.

Betty’s family story is similar to Sammy’s.  She was born to Mary and George Devenney on October 18, 1943, 14 miles away in a country cottage at Milltown on the outskirts of Strabane.  Betty, the eldest of eleven children, with four brothers and six sisters, lived in town with her widowed Granny Brigid McAteer, to keep her company, and her uncle Frank, starting at about age four.  It was not an uncommon situation for a child in those days, and Betty certainly had no regret about it.  There were no cars, of course, so on Fridays, Uncle Frank would put her on the crossbar of his bike and take her into town.  When Betty was twelve, Granny McAteer fell while she was out in the shed bringing in wood for the range that heated the room and cooked their food. Betty was helping her get the wood so quickly raised the alarm, but she subsequently died the following day at the age of 84.  Betty then went to live with her father and mother; she went from a relatively empty house to one with ten or so people.  While her family didn’t have much, they did have everything they needed.  They had a one-acre garden where they grew raspberries, strawberries, potatoes, and other food.  Insert Blakely1.5 Betty’s parents’ wedding day  Insert BlakelyPB6 Newspaper obituary of Granny Brigid McAteer

Her father, whom everyone called Geordae, worked as a lorry driver; her mother, known as Mamie, reared the family, with no complaining.  Although the family had limited means, Betty’s mother was glad to donate what she could to the nuns and their “mission,” as she called it.  Eventually, the family moved to town and their home was pretty much identical to the Blakely home.  “We were just like everyone else on the criss-cross of streets in our area.  Nobody had any more than anyone else.  Everyone was glad to have and keep a job and people did the best they could,” Sammy recalled.  Betty agreed that they were rich in community.  “Life wasn’t bad,” she said, “we just weren’t rich.  We had our suits and ties and shoes; we went to the snooker hall for entertainment.  For some, they lived three or four families in one house and it was very difficult to get a job.   Families who had a car were considered rich.  My friend’s father had a car, and their house had carpeting!”  Insert BlakelyPB4 Betty, six months old, with her Mom

It was a time of poverty for the entire country where only the elite and the owners of companies would have been used to “high living” while the rest were workers who just scraped a living, with enough food and clothing, ways to amuse themselves and keep out of trouble—which was easy to get into.  Looking back, both Sammy and Betty see their parents as heroes for what they endured.  “They managed to perfection.”

When Betty got married, (“She married well,” says Sammy.) the eleventh and youngest member of her family “couldn’t even come to the wedding, a wee, tiny baby just six months old.”  There was no such thing as birth control or anything like that.  Contraception was forbidden by the Catholic Church, which now seems rather appalling, so all the families were big.  Ireland was just that type of a country.  That’s the way everybody lived.   “If you had a good job, that was the thing and you just did the best you could,” Sammy explained.  

Another difference was that Catholic children then did not get the same quality primary and secondary education and were, for the most part, not allowed in the university.  Now, though, it’s expected that children will attend the university.  Even the blue collar workers, like Betty’s nephews, had to go to college to do the paperwork after they apprenticed as a plumber and an electrician.

Betty said, “My Mom and Dad, God bless them.  I never had a bad day in my whole life, never had a sad day. The only thing I didn’t like or got angry about was that I was the one to push the pram.  All those children!”  Later, in searching through family papers, Betty found a note from her Mom, saying she was sorry that Betty always had to push the pram while other girls were out playing.  But even so, not a sad day of her life.

Back then, the Catholic Church ruled the community with a rod of iron, and to adhere to Catholicism, as it was preached, was very difficult.  There was a lot of mystery and things you accepted because you were told to. The children attended parochial school and were taught by very stern nuns, though Betty says she never had a problem with them herself.  Except that one time…a lace tablecloth went missing from the altar at the church.  “Somebody mentioned my name, and my Mum was—we lived at the bottom of what we called ‘the grove’—up that grove double-quick, and nobody said another word after that!  The last thing I needed was a lace tablecloth.  To this day, I don’t know where it went.”  By now, all the nuns are dead and that big, beautiful convent has been removed.  

Betty has wondered since whether, living all together like they did, it was not surprising that the nuns were bad tempered.  There was a lot of competition between them.  One nun, in particular, was not her friend because she recognized that Betty couldn’t sing a note and wouldn’t let her in the choir.  “They could’ve stuck me at the back.”  Sister Brandon, on the other hand, was an angel to Betty and took her under her wing.  Once she said, “Betty Devenney, come up to the front of the class.”  Then she proceeded to point out how perfectly dressed she was, and told all the other girls she wanted them to “show up to school tomorrow just like that, white socks and proper clothes and all.”  Betty feared she’d be murdered on the playground.  Sammy commented that they had methods back then, like being able to “whack” a student, but teachers now can’t dare touch a student.  Betty said she was never given physical punishment, so she was either “a wee angel altogether, or very lucky.”  Mention the nuns now to Betty’s classmates, and you would hear, “Don’t.  Even.  Go.  There.”

Even with the financial challenges, when the time came for confirmation and first communion, every girl, no matter who she was, had a beautiful dress and shoes.  Nobody went there looking like they couldn’t afford it.   Insert BlakelyPB3 Betty’s first communion

After attending “the tech,” Betty felt like, as the eldest of 11 children, she needed to help out by being employed, so off to the factory she went, where everyone else in town worked.  She worked at Adria Knitting Factory, a hosiery company which made tights and employed over a thousand workers, mainly from Strabane.  At one point, the town had the highest unemployment in Northern Ireland, so the coming of Adria to Strabane was a godsend!  The men worked there during the day and the women worked at night.  They were good, hard workers and nobody complained.  People got on the best they could and most of the Blakelys’ contemporaries did well for themselves, ending up much better off financially than their parents. 

Betty’s and Sammy’s paths crossed in 1962, when they met at a dancehall, The Palladrome Ballroom, in Strabane.  Every weekend, several double-deck buses brought loads of young men.  On the opposite side from where the young men stood, the young women lined the wall praying they would be asked to dance and wouldn’t be a wallflower.  While that was funny, “There’s one thing that everybody needs to know,” says Betty.  “There was no alcohol at all at the dancehall.  There was mineral water and mineral drinks, no alcohol whatsoever.  But the men, before they came in, they would be able to go to the local pub.  Not the women.  No, no, no!  So we were lucky back then that life was much simpler, you know?”  Although he smoked from a very young age, Sammy did not touch alcohol and was what the church called a Pioneer. The Pioneer Total Abstinence Association of the Sacred Heart (PTAA) is an international organisation for Roman Catholic teetotalers that is based in Ireland. Its members are commonly called Pioneers and its members completely abstain from any alcoholic drinks.

Sammy and Betty went out together for two more years, mainly dancing and going to the cinema.  Early in 1964, Sammy proposed to Betty.  Sammy says, “She couldn’t believe her luck!”  Betty clarified,  “He said to me one day, ‘Suppose we’d better get married?’  There was no ‘down on his knee’ or anything like that.”  In his defense, Sammy says young men in that day and age weren’t very romantic, but to their mutual good fortune, she accepted.  (And now, 56 years later with five children and fifteen grandchildren, it still seems like a good idea.)  They were engaged, and gathered the money to get married with the help of some poker winnings (a pastime of Sammy’s back then).  So, it appears, Sammy was indeed a very lucky young man!  They were married August 18, 1964, in Strabane Chapel in Betty’s hometown.  Insert Blakely1.2 wedding collage  Insert BlakelyWeddingPic  Sammy, his Mom, Betty’s Mom, Betty

They spent a week in Dublin for their honeymoon.  One entertainment they remember was standing at the airport watching the planes, like two children.  There was no thought in their minds that they would ever get on a plane and go somewhere; they were just happy to watch them.  Fortunately, they had already paid four weeks ahead on the rent for their apartment; the £5 note in Sammy’s pocket that they had left over from their honeymoon was all the money they had in the world, and had to last until the next payday.  One thing that was very helpful was not having to pay for medical needs.  Since 1948, Ireland’s National Health Service has paid medical costs including prescriptions.  There was also a program to help the underprivileged.  Betty and Sammy believe they were really very lucky to be where they were at that time, because for mothers and fathers rearing children in the pre-war time, say the 1930s, if someone was sick there was no money to pay.  Insert BlakelyPB7 Sammy and Betty on the train to Dublin  Blakely1.9 Betty in sweater she made  Blakely1.8 Sammy at the Dublin airport  Blakely1.7 Betty at the Dublin airport  Blakely1.10 Betty in another sweater she made at the old Dublin airport

Sammy continued to steadily move up in the workplace.  In 1963, he got a job as an instrument technician with the DuPont Company in Derry.  This American chemical company based in Wilmington, Delaware, was a truly remarkable and good employer.  They introduced a company pension, paid a good salary, and made shares available to employees.  

Living in that apartment on Great James Street in Derry, their first child was born on the 30th of May in 1965, a boy they named Stephen Samuel.  Once when the family lived in the apartment in Derry, three-year-old Stephen Samuel went down to play on the railway line.  His parents were, of course, frantic but when they finally found him he was just playing happily.  Their second child, also a boy, was born in September 1967, and they called him Paul Anthony.  When Paul was five, Betty took him down to the school and returned home with tears in her eyes to go about her work.  She looked out the window to see Paul come walking up the driveway.  She asked what he was doing and he replied he was coming home to his Mum.  “And they didn’t even miss him in class!”  Mum took him straight back down to the class, and he never did that again.  Insert BlakelyPB8 Stephen 1 1/2, Paul 6 months  BlakelyPB2 Stephen and Paul with an organ grinder’s monkey

In 1968, they bought their first house, a terraced house in King Street Waterside, Derry, with three bedrooms and a bathroom—but still no hot water.  They later had a hot water system installed.  

Sammy’s contemporary and fellow Derry native, the great John Hume, a local French teacher, became an icon in the 20th century civil rights movement in Northern Ireland.  He led marches to protest sectarian discrimination, and to peacefully bring to light grievances suppressed by the Unionist government.  Starting in 1969, there were civil rights marches against the violence and bombings of those terrible years when the community lost a lot of people.  The Good Friday Agreement, negotiated in part by Hume, brought changes.  The lives of the people improved tremendously, and the discrimination is now nowhere near what it used to be.  John Hume was a co-recipient of the Nobel Peace prize in 1998 for his work in the Northern Ireland peace process and was revered by world leaders, such as Bill and Hilary Clinton, President Obama, as well as many European dignitaries.  Hume died on August 3, 2020.  Betty and Sammy proudly remember him as a local Derry fellow, educated at a local college, a famous speaker who went on to be a famous politician, who fought for civil rights.  Services for Hume would have been attended by world leaders, but for the restrictions caused by covid.  “He was really one of the greats,” Sammy observed.  Betty commented, “He wanted a peaceful solution, not bombs, because we had been through a very bad time with the troubles.”  

John Hume also became a hero for starting a people-run organization called the credit union.  The Irish people were all still struggling financially, even those with a job.  If they needed money, they’d go to the credit union to borrow it; the people saved with the credit union too, so there would be money to increase their capital.  On a personal note, John Hume married Patricia (better known as Pat), a woman who was Sammy’s neighbor.

In April 1969, Sammy and Betty bought their first car, a yellow Mini.  It cost £220.  They borrowed the money from their local credit union.  Sammy could not drive so he took lessons and passed his driving test the first time he took it, in August 1969.  He passed his test on a Monday, and five days later the family packed up and left for a two-week tour of Ireland.  “What great timing!  The wee Mini was a godsend.  We fed the children and ourselves from food we had in the boot of the car,” recalled Betty.  No hotels for them, they stayed in B & Bs along the way.  They really enjoyed that holiday.

In March 1971, the Blakely’s bought a newly-built, detached bungalow in a new development on Laurel Drive in Strabane.  It had a garage, central heating and…hot water!  It was a big step up.  Insert BlakelyPB1 Paul and Stephen at the Laurel Drive house

In April 1971, Kevin Gerald, their third child, was born.  They were still driving an old “banger” of a car, a very rusty Austin 1100, but this house was a new start for them.

In 1973, Sammy was promoted to Maintenance Supervisor at his job, and they were now able to buy a decent car, a two-year-old Vauxhall Viva.  Again they borrowed the money from the credit union, but could well afford to repay the loan.  They traded in the Austin 1100 and got £50 allowance for it.  Sammy began playing golf as his main hobby in 1974. 

In 1975, Sammy was given responsibility for maintenance in the Hylene plant, and remained there until he supervised the shutdown of operations in 1982.  During the intervening years, Betty worked several jobs and earned money to take the family away abroad on holidays.  Their first foreign holiday to the sun was to Majorca in 1980 for two weeks.  A fabulous island! The Blakely’s had a holiday in the sun nearly every year thereafter.

The family growth plan had a big, eleven-year gap until 1982.  “Then, guess what!  We got a wee girl!” Betty said.  Elated to have a girl, they named her Karen Elizabeth.  Also in 1982, Sammy was transferred to the start-up of a new Hypalon plant and during that time did a correspondence course, sponsored by DuPont, earning his Diploma in Management.  Sammy remained in Hypalon until its closure in 1996. Insert Blakely1.6 Betty with Karen on her favorite horse

The last addition to their family, a boy they named Barry Patrick, was born in April 1984.  Sammy and Betty were so happy.

Sammy applied for available early retirement in 1996, but was asked to reconsider.  He decided to stay on, was then transferred to the Neoprene Plant, and was promoted to the position of Area Engineer and then to Engineering Department Manager.

In 1997 Betty and Sammy purchased a three-quarter-acre site in the Strabane countryside, and designed and supervised the building of a new home there in 1998.

Also in 1998 Sammy assisted in the supervision of the closing down of Neoprene, the first plant to be built back in 1960.  He then negotiated the transfer of 53 employees to other plants across the site.

On the 31st of  October, 1998, after almost 36 years with DuPont, Sammy finally retired in order to supervise the building of their new home which they moved into at Christmas the same year.  On Boxing Day, a violent storm blew a lot of roof tiles off the house and caused other minor damage; the electricity was off for four days.  When the electricity was reconnected, they settled down to decorating their new home and playing lots of golf.  Insert BlakelyPB5 Betty and Sammy

In 2000, Sammy began to suffer from Rheumatoid Arthritis, a very debilitating illness affecting the body joints, bone structure, and ease of movement.  The golfing days came to an end and more effort was put into tinkering about in the garden.  Betty, thankfully, has maintained good health, being dedicated to walking every day.

 

Where was I?

I’m amazed to think about the historical eras that I’ve lived in.  The historical events that stick in my mind are several–if I had been paying attention, there might have been more.

1953: I remember in Mt. View, going around the block to see my first television screen. –I don’t remember the exact home but I do remember it was small and black and white.  I remember the excitement (which I now know was June of 1953) of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II.  My memory is that the film of the event was rushed by jet to the USA so that it could be shown within hours of the actual happening.  What excitement. I’m 10 years old and we gathered around a neighbor’s small TV to watch–obviously, not the entire ceremony but enough that I can say I remember it.

In 1956 we lived in Buffalo, Oklahoma–during a time of mini dust storms.  There was no air conditioning at this time–maybe one water cooler which filled one room with slightly less hot air.  We played outside a great deal because it was cooler than sitting in the house.  Obviously, the big news was the availability of the polio vaccine which was supplied to all children at that time.  What had once been an epidemic of major proportions, was now almost gone.  Amazing times in health discoveries and inventions  were on the horizons to the point that the those identified as Generation X and later have no real understanding of how tentative chlldhood was before vaccinations.

 

 

West Point

I grew up with a single mom who raised me working as a housekeeper. It was sort of a lean upbringing when it came to finances and those types of things. My mom shielded me from a lot of the financial pressure she was under, but I was smart enough to realize that she wasn’t going to be able to help me pay for college and I knew that wouldn’t be something that I’d ask her to do.

I grew up just outside of Travis Air Force Base in California and so I had a lot of friends’ parents who were still in the military, and so I had this admiration for military service. I think there was also a strong influence from my mom. She really just enjoyed serving others and liked being helpful and I think I was sort of wired in a similar way. This idea of serving and helping others just sort of permeated how she and I viewed the world and saw things.

During my Junior year of high school, West Point and other schools started to do outreach and I got a letter from West Point – I actually kind of ignored it at first and then my mom said, hey, this is a really good school, you should think about it and I was like, alright, I’ll put it in the ‘good school’ pile. And then they sent a follow-up that they were going to be in Sacramento. And so I went to that presentation and then I remember on that drive back I had this feeling that West Point is the only place I want to go and serving in the military is something I really, really want to do. And that was sort of it.

It’s funny, I actually feel like the discipline aspect of West Point wasn’t really all that jarring. I remember watching this video from West Point – it was like a terrible early 90s production. I just sort of felt like I had seen enough and I knew that it wasn’t going to be fun and it was going to be kind of austere. So I feel like I was prepared for that. Oddly enough I think I wasn’t really well-prepared for the weather. I remember my first winter, the Hudson River froze over; like literally you could walk across it. But it was sort of this horrible metaphor for how oppressive this different environment could be. It’s depressing and isolating and you’re coming of age and figuring things out and West Point by design sort of overwhelms you with more than you can reasonably handle or do.

So it was tough and at times sort of grueling. But in hindsight it was so very necessary and valuable. There’s this melting pot aspect there, people coming together from every socioeconomic rung and background. There’s this need to really understand, appreciate, and see the best in what people bring because their situation in life is not a reflection of their value or worth, it’s intrinsic to who they are. I was exposed to ideas that were counter to what I personally believed and it felt like an intellectually demanding and honest place.

I got to West Point during a time of relative peace, and it was during my Junior year that the 9/11 attacks happened. I remember after 9/11 there was a real sense of fear, like literally the day of. It was still unclear how many aircrafts were in the air and how this attack was unfolding – is more of our country in danger? And you start to very quickly realize that it’s your job to be a part of whatever that response is. So I think even in the most immediate sense you literally wanted to go to Ground Zero and help. I remember George W. Bush’s speech – I believe it was later that night where he addressed the country and there was a line that he essentially says, American military: you’re on notice. And I remember watching that and realizing, ‘wow everything is very real and everything is about to get very serious.’ But we didn’t know how yet.

My Testimony

My testimony from Childhood to Grandma  

My earliest memory of God was lying in bed and thinking about God and Jesus as separate individuals. I was about 8 years old. I know I attended the Methodist church occasionally, but that is all. It wasn’t until I became a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints that I found out that most churches believe the God head, or Trinity, are all one being.  As a child that didn’t make sense to me; they were Father and Son, separate beings!

At times, while trying to fall asleep at night, I would get a little bit scared. So in my mind I would ask my “little white men” to make a circle around me.  They were all dressed in white suits, ties, shirts, etc. They would “float” above me in a circle around my whole body.  I felt so safe.  After I joined the church and went to the temple, I realized that my “little white men” were dressed exactly like the men in the temple! I know that as a child I had a memory of the pre-existence.  This memory has become very sacred to me.  I found this quote by President Russell M. Nelson about Heavenly Father; “His love is constant. He never stops watching over us.  He has promised that He will be on our right hand and on our left, that His Spirit will be in our hearts, and that even His angels will surround us.”

After we joined the church in 1979, I had several spiritual experiences that testified to me of Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.  Some I felt very strongly and others not so strong.  I will share some of the “strong” ones here, but realize all my experiences were important and touching to me.

My mother died of a heart attack in October 1986.  At the time we had a “cordless” telephone and one of the hand-held phones was upstairs under our bed and the ringer was turned off.  Doug was just one year old at the time, and had just woke up and I went to get him from his crib.  While I was up, I heard the phone downstairs ringing.  It was the hospital calling to tell me my mother was there and that I should get there quickly.  I know that if Doug had not started to cry, I never would have heard the phone and been able to get to the hospital.  What a blessing!

I got to the hospital and was able to talk to my mom before they started the surgery (she had a clogged artery).  I held her hand and told her I loved her.  That was the last time we talked.  The doctors were able to unclog the artery, but her heart never settled down and she died. Teresa Muse was there with me, as was Jerry.  The next several weeks were very hard for me. My Ward and my mother’s Ward took good care of us.  Meals were brought in and Kim Higbee planned the whole funeral program and got people to speak, give prayers, play the piano, etc .  It was such a blessing to not have to worry about all the details. My mother’s brother and his wife, Phil and Mary Anderson, came out for the funeral.  They were able to share some memories about my mother with us.  

I was dealing with a great amount of grief and lost 15 pounds!  After about two weeks, I prayed to Heavenly Father that I could feel better because I had three small children I needed to take care of.  My answer came in a “thought”. I saw my mother sitting in a nice room with her family that had died before her.  They were talking and laughing.  From then on, I was able to feel some peace and move on and tend to my family.  Another blessing in my life.

The last spiritual occurrence I want to share is about my separation from Kelly.  We had been struggling in our marriage and seeing a therapist and also our bishop.  This went on for about two years.  At one point Kelly told me he had no testimony and wanted to start drinking coffee, alcohol and smoking pipes and cigars.  We lived like this for some time.  During all this, I was praying to Heavenly Father to tell me what to do.  Should we stay together or separate? I never got an answer. When things continued to get worse (for me, anyway) I again prayed.  This time I told Heavenly Father that I could not handle this anymore and wanted out.  I asked, “Is this the right thing to do?” I immediately got my answer; a strong, peaceful feeling enveloped my whole body, from head to toe.  As Kelly and I discussed separating and completing all the details, I never doubted my decision.  I knew I had my answer and I was doing the right thing.  There was never a moment I questioned my decision. Another blessing and answer to a prayer.

I have a testimony of the gospel.  I know we have a Heavenly Father who loves us and is merciful.  I know that as much as I love my children and grandchildren and would forgive them of anything, I know our Heavenly Father will do the same. My wish is that my family will live their lives as good followers of Christ, knowing that they are doing the best they can and that Christ will atone for their shortcomings and that Heavenly Father will welcome them with open arms.

I love you all. 

PS: I survived the 2020 Corona Virus! I was vaccinated with the Pfizer vaccine February 2021!