Marchers,
A great thanks goes out to Alan McGaffin and his fine son, Adam. Alan took a truck load of Boy Scouts, the Troop trailer, and loads of equipment to help support the March. He was in great company, while his only complaint was, he was not marching. He wanted to March more then most, and perhaps should have, but we need him to help support the March. He sent us, the Marchers, off with a hearty propane cooked breakfast the second day, and made us feel comfortable at each break stop. He never stopped helping and supporting.
Alan, the troop leader of Troop 941, brought along some very nice young men, and a a couple of fathers who helped make a difference. Kevin Nguyen and Greg Sanzo, came along as supporters, and made sure, along with Alan, their Boys were taken care of. Their sons, Calvin and Tyler, walked on the first day, with Tyler finishing that day's March. Calvin went home the second day of the March, but Tyler stayed the entire time helping set up camp, refilling water containers, and handing out the chow at the stops.
A young man by the name of Cody, walked the two and a half days, with blistered feet, only ending his march, when the sight of his back and chest, red and swollen with heat bumps, forced him to stop. He did not want to, but I felt he needed to take a break. He never complained, and had a interesting sense of humor.
Alan's son, Adam, who, with numerous chigger bites and other issues , sat out Day 3, but rejoined the March to finish up Day 4, and end the March with the view of Addison at the finish line, was a stalwart companion. If it had not been for the bug issues, and his reaction, we would have had him for the entire four days. His Dad should be very proud of the young man they have raised.
A big thank you goes out to Boy Scout Troop 941 and their leader, Alan McGaffin. Also, thank you to the Fathers who helped us make this March a success.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Can Someone Please find the ...ah..er... butt paste?
Instead of letting the interviewer know why we Marchered, and what we were trying to do, I laid the ointment on thick with the mention of Boudreaux's Butt Paste.
Jack did an excellent job presenting Addison update and the situation. And, had Jerry been miked, we would have righted my wrong; the third mike was to go to Mrs. Marshall, and should have, but I took it, and did not get to give credit to Jack for all his work on mapping, adjusting, and GPSing the course, while fixing a flat in the woods, and driving on a small bent doughnut spare back home to Fulshear.
Jerry's role was placed in the blog earlier, but credit was due to him because of his hard work and can-do attitude.
There was no second question put to me about what Addison means to me, so to clear up the matter, I will ask myself: I would be honored by his character, for him to be my son. I would be humbled by the strength he has shown through this ordeal. Most of all, I am blessed to have known him, and shared a friendship. That is what he means to me.
So, this next March, whenever that is, Addison will be first to the gate, and out of the chute to add his name to those who Marched with Marshall. That is the type of man he is.
Picture Pages
Marchers,
It is Picture Time...
Take a walk with us and enjoy the wooded view.
It is Picture Time...
Take a walk with us and enjoy the wooded view.
Below is a link that will bring you to a series of fabulous photos that will help you reminisce and savor every ache, pain, blister and moment of our four day walk.
Special thanks again to our unofficial, officially wonderful photographer and super sister, Cathey Morrison.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Superman or just Super Trooper: Krogel
Marchers,
Mrs. Marshall wrote a great blog about her husband, Jack Marshall. I think his value was well mentioned and his talents. I will leave that as his great tribute, and not try and match pens with the fine quality of writing, Mrs. Marshall displays, not to mention the love that shines through her words.
But, I will lay fingers on the keys to mention a friend of mine, who took over the role of XO, and brought intelligence and order to our March. Jerry Krogel is one of the finest products the Army has ever produced, outside of West Point. He is really is West Point material, but the Army made him the youngest helio pilot they have ever had at 17 years of age.
He advised me to walk the whole course, but as I did not have time, I relied on the coordinates taken by someone else, and the maps from the forest service and one by Karen Somers of the Lone Star Hiking Trail. While these were good, they were not eyes on the target, and the lack recon lead to some stressed episodes while on the trial. Jerry never waviered, he took in his role, and tried to work with Jack to make sure the course was set and he could get to us in an emergency. He came prepared to help, and lead, if necessary.
After our first night in open air sleeping, Jerry put up his Taj Mah Hooch tent to give me a better sleeping arrangement, and get my back off the ground. He put almost 500 miles on his Suburban and always had a map or GPS in hand. He made sure the Support Staff was working, putting the camp together and, when a break was mandated, he had the crew there with chairs, and snacks to keep us going.
He regaled us with tales of the Army, humorous quotes, things he had learned. He knows quite a bit about everything, and is a willing learner by listening to others. Thank you Jerry for all your hard work, and joyful attitude while we took your time away form the family, and keep your sweating through the night in the Taj Mah Hooch. PS. I know I have misspelled some words in this blog Jerry, but the message is heartfelt.
Next time you can hit the trail and I can work on support, not as well as you, but with a lot better understanding of my job, thanks to you.
Mrs. Marshall wrote a great blog about her husband, Jack Marshall. I think his value was well mentioned and his talents. I will leave that as his great tribute, and not try and match pens with the fine quality of writing, Mrs. Marshall displays, not to mention the love that shines through her words.
But, I will lay fingers on the keys to mention a friend of mine, who took over the role of XO, and brought intelligence and order to our March. Jerry Krogel is one of the finest products the Army has ever produced, outside of West Point. He is really is West Point material, but the Army made him the youngest helio pilot they have ever had at 17 years of age.
He advised me to walk the whole course, but as I did not have time, I relied on the coordinates taken by someone else, and the maps from the forest service and one by Karen Somers of the Lone Star Hiking Trail. While these were good, they were not eyes on the target, and the lack recon lead to some stressed episodes while on the trial. Jerry never waviered, he took in his role, and tried to work with Jack to make sure the course was set and he could get to us in an emergency. He came prepared to help, and lead, if necessary.
After our first night in open air sleeping, Jerry put up his Taj Mah Hooch tent to give me a better sleeping arrangement, and get my back off the ground. He put almost 500 miles on his Suburban and always had a map or GPS in hand. He made sure the Support Staff was working, putting the camp together and, when a break was mandated, he had the crew there with chairs, and snacks to keep us going.
He regaled us with tales of the Army, humorous quotes, things he had learned. He knows quite a bit about everything, and is a willing learner by listening to others. Thank you Jerry for all your hard work, and joyful attitude while we took your time away form the family, and keep your sweating through the night in the Taj Mah Hooch. PS. I know I have misspelled some words in this blog Jerry, but the message is heartfelt.
Next time you can hit the trail and I can work on support, not as well as you, but with a lot better understanding of my job, thanks to you.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
A Gathering of the McStravick Clan: A Special thank you
Marchers,
There are too many people to thank for their support but I would like to try and do so, one day at a time.
Today, it is my family. My wife, Peggy, made two days of the walk and helped keep everyone going. My son Patrick, worked two of the first days, and did a fine job moving and shuttling between areas. My nephew, Robert, made forty miles of the walk on the first two days and never complained, even as his feet began to like like ground beef. But he did not quit, we just needed him to drive for the last two days, and again, he did not complain, he just jumped in the truck, smiled and took the trailer wherever Jerry told him too.
By Day Two, my sister Cathey, just up for a visit, began to hand out grapes, drinks, and became the picture taker of merit. She allowed her two daughters to go on the trek Sunday, and they made the whole distance, walking and talking. Molly never left Katie's side, as they want side by side through the forest. Cathey shows up on the Day Three with my Mother, who stays long enough to watch the day turn dark, and get bitten by a bee trying to take in our dinner. Cathey had not forgotten our needs and brought grapes, ice, and celery to our whole crew, leaving Jerry with directions for us to eat it all. Her energy was contagious and fun filled.
Day Four brought out my older brother, Peter, who brought, ice, kolaches and much needed coffee. He stayed half a day, but left me in great spirits with his presence and help.
Keep in mind, I did not ask them to help, they offered or just showed up. For their love and help, I am forever grateful.
There are too many people to thank for their support but I would like to try and do so, one day at a time.
Today, it is my family. My wife, Peggy, made two days of the walk and helped keep everyone going. My son Patrick, worked two of the first days, and did a fine job moving and shuttling between areas. My nephew, Robert, made forty miles of the walk on the first two days and never complained, even as his feet began to like like ground beef. But he did not quit, we just needed him to drive for the last two days, and again, he did not complain, he just jumped in the truck, smiled and took the trailer wherever Jerry told him too.
By Day Two, my sister Cathey, just up for a visit, began to hand out grapes, drinks, and became the picture taker of merit. She allowed her two daughters to go on the trek Sunday, and they made the whole distance, walking and talking. Molly never left Katie's side, as they want side by side through the forest. Cathey shows up on the Day Three with my Mother, who stays long enough to watch the day turn dark, and get bitten by a bee trying to take in our dinner. Cathey had not forgotten our needs and brought grapes, ice, and celery to our whole crew, leaving Jerry with directions for us to eat it all. Her energy was contagious and fun filled.
Day Four brought out my older brother, Peter, who brought, ice, kolaches and much needed coffee. He stayed half a day, but left me in great spirits with his presence and help.
Keep in mind, I did not ask them to help, they offered or just showed up. For their love and help, I am forever grateful.
The Race is One, Won with Marshall
Marchers and Supporters,
I cannot thank all Participants and Supports enough. Jack took us to the finish line, with enough day Marchers, that we felt like we all made it, no matter the distance; we all made a sacrifice show our support and love for Addison. Some Marched, because others did, some Marched because they like the exercise, and all Marched because they were there for Marshall, Addison Marshall.
I will write some more tonight or tomorrow and let you in on our fun, sores and laughs, but the most important thing was, Addison was there with us both in spirit and in person. He was a fine sight for five sore footed men, as we crossed the finish line on FSR 219.
Jack took in the role of leadership or the C.O., Jerry Krogel handled all the duties of the X.O., and I played the part of the older sergeant bringing up the rear. Maps, support and supplies were excellent provided for by Major Kroger, while Jack took the guidon and the forward position on the March, taking care of all the spider webs and snakes up front along the way.
The guidon was carried by all Marchers, at one time or another, through out the March, covering all 80 (just under 80 ) miles in beautiful colors. It was handed to Addison by his Dad as we hit the finish line sometime after two o'clock.
Most of the men who had sacrificed their time in support of their March. let me know, that if we did it again, they wanted to March. That helped smooth out the fact we did not have all the numbers of Marchers I had hoped for. But then again, maybe they would not have made it, and we would have had to get them back to their cars to head home in down cast, humbled spirits.
We changed our plans and let girls and women, who wanted to March, go with us, as long as their Dad, or Mom where there. Most only planned to go for one day, but my wife made two days without any problem. I think the number of miles scared people more then the act of doing it.
I will say this, if there is a next time, and I hope their is, with Addison by our side, I will be more comfortable in all-terrain tennis shoes instead of hiking boots. Those that wore sneakers, had much better feet then those of us who wore boots. The terrain was not too tough nor the water too high.
Our race is run, Addison's race is still on. Keep him in your thoughts and prayers. Seek to give him some of your strength, not that he needs it, but to keep him needing it. He ain't heavy, he is just Addison. God grant him strength, and let him stay here amongst us to realize his potential.
Till the race is won, we are one, We are Marshall.
I cannot thank all Participants and Supports enough. Jack took us to the finish line, with enough day Marchers, that we felt like we all made it, no matter the distance; we all made a sacrifice show our support and love for Addison. Some Marched, because others did, some Marched because they like the exercise, and all Marched because they were there for Marshall, Addison Marshall.
I will write some more tonight or tomorrow and let you in on our fun, sores and laughs, but the most important thing was, Addison was there with us both in spirit and in person. He was a fine sight for five sore footed men, as we crossed the finish line on FSR 219.
Jack took in the role of leadership or the C.O., Jerry Krogel handled all the duties of the X.O., and I played the part of the older sergeant bringing up the rear. Maps, support and supplies were excellent provided for by Major Kroger, while Jack took the guidon and the forward position on the March, taking care of all the spider webs and snakes up front along the way.
The guidon was carried by all Marchers, at one time or another, through out the March, covering all 80 (just under 80 ) miles in beautiful colors. It was handed to Addison by his Dad as we hit the finish line sometime after two o'clock.
Most of the men who had sacrificed their time in support of their March. let me know, that if we did it again, they wanted to March. That helped smooth out the fact we did not have all the numbers of Marchers I had hoped for. But then again, maybe they would not have made it, and we would have had to get them back to their cars to head home in down cast, humbled spirits.
We changed our plans and let girls and women, who wanted to March, go with us, as long as their Dad, or Mom where there. Most only planned to go for one day, but my wife made two days without any problem. I think the number of miles scared people more then the act of doing it.
I will say this, if there is a next time, and I hope their is, with Addison by our side, I will be more comfortable in all-terrain tennis shoes instead of hiking boots. Those that wore sneakers, had much better feet then those of us who wore boots. The terrain was not too tough nor the water too high.
Our race is run, Addison's race is still on. Keep him in your thoughts and prayers. Seek to give him some of your strength, not that he needs it, but to keep him needing it. He ain't heavy, he is just Addison. God grant him strength, and let him stay here amongst us to realize his potential.
Till the race is won, we are one, We are Marshall.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Thank you Huntsville Lion's Club
Marchers,
Saddle up, we're moving out.
Today is pack up and shut up day. For those of us going, we need to be packed up, for those not going, and still are deciding, figure it out.
Jack Marshall and I had a great time in Huntsville as guest of Jason Dyches and the Huntsville Lion's Club. While my poor efforts of thanks came near the end, I made my spiel before Jack made his. My speech forgot a few necessary items, such as the March; day and distance. Jack did not.
Jack spoke as a person who had seen Addison's issues from afar. He spoke of the diagnosis, the fear and strength of Addison's mother, Val, of the Foster football team and the bracelets they sold, of meeting the football coach of Marshall University, of the strength of Addison, himself, as he dealt with this deadly issue. Then he stated his name and his familial connection. He received a standing ovation, and I willingly joined them, on my feet, hands snapping together in support of the father.
My message did not do justice to what I think of Addison, or how I see him; his father had moved the crowd of Lion's. I left the meeting with Jack's words in my ears, and wishing I had told more of my feelings, but as I dwelt on the speech, I got the message in one huge sigh which feed oxygen to my brain; this is not about me; this is about a young man named Addison, whose father spoke of his son with love and emotion. This speech came from a man, who in the early morning hours had given Addison two shots in his thighs, while Addison made plans to go work out with his friends.
So, my friends, I wish you peace this morning and happiness. I am off to do my packing and loading. The men and women who have donated their time and talents to this enterprise, need a big thank you. One is Jerry Krogel of CES fame. He has volunteered his time, to coordinate our ground support; he is our Support Chief, well trained by the U.S. Army, and as intelligent as they come. Alan McGaffin, the local troop leader who is giving of his time and talents, while others of his young charges are putting out and collecting flags this weekend. Drew Chipman, a builder, who, some how, in this poor economy, made time to drive his trailer and support the Marchers for the next three days of the March.
Hats off to the technology fairy, who made time to put forms, maps, information together and even set up the blog site so I can express myself to the five people who read this daily. Thank you.
Last but not least, thank you to Addison Marshall, who has shown me the face of strength and courage, one that I need to take with me and use on my own journey through life.
May our Lord watch over him, and protect him from the wages of this disease. May he grow as strong in body, as he is in mind. May the victory of health, come quickly for him, and allow him to play football, and enjoy his youth. And, most of all, may we one day march together, he and I, for someone else of like qualities, who needs our love and support. Amen
Saddle up, we're moving out.
Today is pack up and shut up day. For those of us going, we need to be packed up, for those not going, and still are deciding, figure it out.
Jack Marshall and I had a great time in Huntsville as guest of Jason Dyches and the Huntsville Lion's Club. While my poor efforts of thanks came near the end, I made my spiel before Jack made his. My speech forgot a few necessary items, such as the March; day and distance. Jack did not.
Jack spoke as a person who had seen Addison's issues from afar. He spoke of the diagnosis, the fear and strength of Addison's mother, Val, of the Foster football team and the bracelets they sold, of meeting the football coach of Marshall University, of the strength of Addison, himself, as he dealt with this deadly issue. Then he stated his name and his familial connection. He received a standing ovation, and I willingly joined them, on my feet, hands snapping together in support of the father.
My message did not do justice to what I think of Addison, or how I see him; his father had moved the crowd of Lion's. I left the meeting with Jack's words in my ears, and wishing I had told more of my feelings, but as I dwelt on the speech, I got the message in one huge sigh which feed oxygen to my brain; this is not about me; this is about a young man named Addison, whose father spoke of his son with love and emotion. This speech came from a man, who in the early morning hours had given Addison two shots in his thighs, while Addison made plans to go work out with his friends.
So, my friends, I wish you peace this morning and happiness. I am off to do my packing and loading. The men and women who have donated their time and talents to this enterprise, need a big thank you. One is Jerry Krogel of CES fame. He has volunteered his time, to coordinate our ground support; he is our Support Chief, well trained by the U.S. Army, and as intelligent as they come. Alan McGaffin, the local troop leader who is giving of his time and talents, while others of his young charges are putting out and collecting flags this weekend. Drew Chipman, a builder, who, some how, in this poor economy, made time to drive his trailer and support the Marchers for the next three days of the March.
Hats off to the technology fairy, who made time to put forms, maps, information together and even set up the blog site so I can express myself to the five people who read this daily. Thank you.
Last but not least, thank you to Addison Marshall, who has shown me the face of strength and courage, one that I need to take with me and use on my own journey through life.
May our Lord watch over him, and protect him from the wages of this disease. May he grow as strong in body, as he is in mind. May the victory of health, come quickly for him, and allow him to play football, and enjoy his youth. And, most of all, may we one day march together, he and I, for someone else of like qualities, who needs our love and support. Amen
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