R.W. HamptonR.W. HamptonR.W. HamptonR.W. Hampton

Posts Tagged ‘Iraq’

She’s Not For Sale

Posted on: May 28th, 2012 by R.W. Hampton 5 Comments

American Flag @ Washington Cemetary

Not For Sale

There’s a trail of blood

Back through the sacred halls of history

Follow it back to where our fathers fought and died

Across the waves see the crosses on the hillside

On the wind hear their voices as they cry

We’ve got to get back

To the faith of our fathers

And find our way back

To the Liberty Bell

And never forget that ol’ flag

And all she stands for

It’s time to rise up and say

“This country’s not for sale!”

She’s not for sale

From Valley Forge they’re callin’

Not for sale

From Gettysburg they cry

From Belleauwood to the battle for Fallujah

She’s not for sale no, not at any price

There was a time

When we all stood together

There was a time

When by fire we were tried

But we lost our way

And it’s a way that cost so dearly

It’s not too late

To saddle up and ride

We’ve got to get back

To the faith of our fathers

And find our way back

To the Liberty Bell

And never forget

That ol’ flag and all she stands for

It’s time to tell Washington

“My country’s not for sale!”

From the Alamo hear ’em call

To the sands of Iwo Jima

From Normandy hear ’em cry

To that Chossen Reservoir

Back to Battan

To the muddy Mekong Delta

From the Helmand Province

To the Solomon’s bloody shores

They cry

We’ve got to get back

To the faith of our fathers

Written by R.W. and Lisa Hampton – ©June 2010

Flags at Sunset

Hampton’s Cimarron Sounds, BMI

R.W. is in the process of recording this song as well as another, “Hell in a Helmet” with the proceeds to be donated to a Wounded Warrior program close to his heart.

If you are interested in contributing to this cause please contact the Hamptons at rw@rwhamton(dot)com or call their office in New Mexico 1-800-392-0822.

To see R.W.’s Youtube Version of this song recorded on his porch at Clearview Ranch right after the song was written click here:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChXt_c0uOwg

Veteran’s Day thoughts… For Those Who Have Signed the Dotted Line

Posted on: November 11th, 2011 by Lisa Hampton 3 Comments

If you have been a fan of R.W. Hampton music for longer than, well, let’s say 4 minutes, (which is the amount of time it takes to listen to most of his songs), you know that R.W. is feverishly patriotic.

Yes, patriotism runs deep in the Hampton family and days like Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day are not merely for putting out the flag, but a time when we pause to honor those around us who have served our nation or are currently serving. 

On these special days we get a chance to stand up and thank those around us who have signed that dotted line saying “America, I’m yours.  I will stand up and fight for you, your citizens, your government, your flag and all that it stands for.  Regardless of whether I like that government, those citizens, or the cause I have been sent to accomplish.  Because as an American, I believe that in the end, right will win; evil will be conquered; freedom will reign and my family, my country, and my fellow soldier/marine/sailor/airman needs me.”     

Yes, these are special days.  Not just to honor men like these.

Members of the US Navy in Pacific Theater - WWII                    And these.        Sgt G Meisner, 2/9 Fox Co

 

But also these.                        2/9 Golf Co Ar Ramadi 2009

And women like these.   WAAC WWII

 

Violet Askins aka Violet Hill Gordon

Women Soldiers in AfghanistanAnd these… 

They are what make our country great. 

It’s what’s inside them.  They know that they were willing to stand up for their country and sign that dotted line. Willing to face our enemies in that  moment of battle and know the courage it takes.

Neither R.W. nor I have done this.  Signed the dotted line.  Faced our enemies across a battlefield.  

Brig General TC Lyster - Theodore C. Lyster is a familiar name to aerospace medicine physicians. His early recognition of the unique physical requirements of aviators, the specialized training necessary for flight surgeons, and the need for altitude physiology research provided the foundation on which the specialty of aviation medicine was built. Lyster's medical career, however, encompassed much more than aviation medicine. From his earliest assignment as a contract physician in Cuba in 1899 until his entry into private practice in 1921, he was heavily involved with the fight against yellow fever. In the era before medical residencies were commonplace, Lyster sought out training in ophthalmology and otolaryngology in the U.S. and abroad. His clinical and organizational abilities made him a valuable asset during the construction of the Panama Canal and during World War I. Lyster's many talents and his philosophy about aviation medicine make him a worthy role model for flight surgeons today.

Brig General TC Lyster, 1875 - 1933da

 

Army, Navy, Air Force & Marines. 
Our fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers, and our oldest son, Cooper, have all signed it. 
Lieutenant General Wade Hampton III, 1818 - 1902

Lieutenant General Wade Hampton III, 1818 - 1902

For as R.W. said to me one day, “My greatest disappointment in life as an adult is that I will never know if I had it inside me to do what they have done; to face what they have faced and to know that I did my part for my country.”

And so, although we are not Veteran’s ourselves, our part now is to support and honor these men and women who are.  To encourage them, to enlighten our community to their sacrifices, and to keep their memories alive; this is our job now. 

 God bless everyone of our Veterans.  We go to sleep tonight safe because at one point you had the courage to sign that dotted line.

OXO – Lisa H.

9.11.2010

Posted on: September 9th, 2010 by R.W. Hampton 4 Comments

It seems like only yesterday that I watched in horror, disbelief and anger as our world was forever changed. Changed in the way we travel. Changed in the way we view our neighbors. But most profoundly for me, it is the fact that once again, we are sending our sons and daughters off to war.

Now let me be the first to say that I believe this is a must! For when you are attacked by a ruthless and cowardly enemy, you cannot shiver in the darkness waiting for the next hit. Nor can you afford the naïve and idealistic thinking that sanctions, trade embargoes and talks will stop it.

No, I believe that “taking it to them” is not only the right thing to do, but the only thing to do. I can say this with honesty because my oldest son is, as of this writing, doing just that, “takin’ it to ‘em!”

Coop and his buddy TBird

The problem for me is the nagging doubt I have that our government will let our sons and daughters do the job for which they are trained and willing to give their lives for. This doubt is strongly reinforced every time I read about how the troops remaining in Iraq are already back in the action and under fire. It is reinforced now when I hear Washington has already told our enemies in Afghanistan when we are going to be done and headed home. We need to let our sons and daughters know that we are behind them and let them win for a change and the payoff is a safer world for them to come home to. We owe this to our finest so that no one will have bled and died in vain.

At a time when elections are on the horizon and much is at stake politically, I want to tell our politicians from all parties , “Do what you must, but do not use my son or anyone else’s as your pawns. No, let them do their jobs. You cannot fight this war from your cherry-wood-and-leather-appointed chambers. No, it must be fought outside and over there, and it must be fought to win, and your Senate or Congressional seat be damned!”

As I close, I am looking at the picture of a young, proud, square-jawed Marine. At the bottom he has written, “We are the unwanted, doing the unthinkable, for the ungrateful. WE ARE THE MARINES.” This is my own son, and I pray his sentiments are wrong, and I pray for our leaders.

God Bless America and May We Never Forget September 11th!
R.W. Hampton

Heart Value

Posted on: May 25th, 2010 by R.W. Hampton 4 Comments

There are things and then there are things. You know, you may own a rare one-of-a-kind something or other, but it doesn’t come close to meaning as much as, say, that first love letter from your kids’ mama so long ago. I guess you could say these things may have no dollar value, but they are priceless when it comes to heart value.

I should know. I keep an old box full of ticket stubs, photos, hospital bracelets, rodeo posters, old passports, baby blankets, Valentine’s Day cards, and a letter from Iraq. You get the idea: all junk to anyone else, but not to me. They are my tangible links to the past.

So while we’re taking this tour of the heart treasures, let me direct your attention over here to this corner of the room. Yes, I know, you’d have missed it if I hadn’t pointed it out. It don’t look like much, but if this house caught on fire, it would be one of the first things I’d grab to save from the flames.

I grew up playing in this old rocker. It always sat in the corner, and when I’d climb into it and get a little wild with my rocking, someone invariably would say something like, “Pull that confounded thing out away from the wall, it ain’t no carnival ride.” 

My guess is that my Dad and Grandpa got the same scolding.

The first owner of this chair was my great grandfather, Calvin Wade Hampton. He was born in the 1870s, and although I’ve got a picture of me and ol’ Calvin from when I was a baby, I never knew him. It may sound funny, but although I never really knew him, I’ve always sorta missed him, so this old rocking chair is my tangible link to him.

Calvin, or C.W., was a horse and mule trader and we both share Wade as our middle name. Family legend says he was a good part Cherokee and he looked it. It’s also told that he and an older son drove some decommissioned cavalry ponies to Alberta to sell to the Mounties up there! Did he plan this adventure while sitting in this chair?

This piece of furniture is stained dark brown – almost black – but the arm rests are worn to a light natural color. The ends of the arm rests are polished smooth and bare from the fists that have clutched them over the years. Come to think of it, I do that, too, when I’m stewing over something. Is this an inherited trait?

When I take a seat in this rocking chair, I take comfort in knowing I’m sitting in a place where three generations of Hampton men before me have sat, read newspapers, and thought. It’s one of my favorite places to take my first swig of morning coffee. Right now, I’m writing this by pencil on a yellow legal pad and sitting – you guessed it! – in my old rocking chair.  As soon as I’m done, I know my 3 year old son, Ethan, will want to climb up here and rock. When he does, I will say, without even thinking, “Son, pull that confounded thing out from the wall, it ain’t no carnival ride.”

Ah, some things never change. Maybe someday, in the dim and distant tomorrow, future generations of Hamptons will use this old rocking chair as their “tangible link to the past,” and it will remain as something of great heart value.

What are your things of great heart value?