My Beaches

This is an open letter to my family and friends on the west coast, the gulf coast and the east coast. These are my thoughts and your comments are welcome; and you are welcome to pass them on, if you so desire.

I was raised on the west coast of central California. My entire life revolved around going to the beach. I love the beach. I love the sand and the salt air. I love the Monterey Bay and the Pacific Ocean. The sound of the surf breaking on the shore has been, at times, to me, very therapeutic. As a child I built sand castles and sand angles. I swam in the cold pacific and loved every minute of it. We went to the beach and always laid our towels and blankets as close to the ocean as we could get without the water running up to us and drowning out our “spot”. When the tide began to role in, we moved just a little further back. As kids, we spent entire days at the beach. On family trips to Capitola, we craned our necks to be the first one to see the ocean as we topped Depot Hill and descended down into the Village and the beach. And I knew that I would always live near the Pacific Ocean, for it captivated me.

Then life got in the way. At 19 I began serving my mission for our church and was called to serve in New England and on Long Island. I came to love another ocean – the Atlantic. Its waters were as cold as my beloved Pacific, but that didn’t matter because as a missionary, we couldn’t swim. But we could watch the boats – and even played football one P-Day on the beach at Patchogue --- in March, and had to hike over the snow to get to the sand. Later in the spring, several of us went out early on P-Day and strolled the beach. It was beautiful. And the white sand beaches rivaled the golden beaches of California. In Maine I marveled at the fishing boats and I knew that one day I would have a hide-a-way cabin on the New England Coast.

My introduction to the Gulf Coast came in the height of the Vietnam War. I was drafted and had to leave my bride in California to attend Army training ---- at an Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. I quickly learned that Biloxi was known as the Gold Coast of Mississippi. It was really quite pretty. The white sandy beaches were not quite the caliber of what I had become accustomed on the East and West coasts, but they were nice. Biloxi sat on the shore of Biloxi Bay and the water was sheltered by barrier islands from the Gulf of Mexico. An afternoon boat trip to Ship Island and I was immediately hooked on the Gulf of Mexico. In the bay, the water was calm, much like a lake. But on the Gulf side of Ship Island, we had surf, and wind and beautiful white beaches! I knew someday I would spend many years on the beaches of The Gulf of Mexico.

About halfway thru my tour in Vietnam, my bride and baby daughter found ourselves on R and R in Hawaii. I remember Jannie and Heidi coming from the West Coast Jannie melting in the humidity. I, on the other hand, coming from the jungles of Southeast Asia, was so grateful for the dry climate of the Islands. Dying of humidity and reveling in the comfortable weather, we fell in love with Hawaii. Upon my completion of duty in Vietnam, I was stationed at Fort Rucker, Alabama. After a month or so, I reenlisted and got my choice of duty stations, and we were headed to the Island of Oahu! While this turned out to be our least favorite assignment in the Army, I did fall in love with Hawaiian beaches and the warm waters of the Hawaiian Pacific. And we had a chance to buy a condo right on the beach and at a price a young Sergeant could afford, and I knew that I would be spending much of my life on the beaches of Hawaii! All I will say is that it didn’t work out. And we headed back home to the home of Army Aviation.

We arrived at Fort Rucker in April 1973. Our first Christmas there, we had family come and visit. My mother came down and on New Year’s Day we drove down to be beach at Panama City. Heidi, Brett and Todd were all the kids we had then, and it was a beautiful day. I realized there and then that if I could go to the beach on New Year’s Day that I loved the Deep South! Over the next nearly 10 years we ventured often to the beach. The early years we found the Fort Rucker Recreation Area at Niceville, FL. It wasn’t directly on the Gulf, but on the bay. The beach was small and the water was flat and you could walk out in the water forever and the water was never deeper than your waist. With small children, it was the perfect beach. But the children didn’t stay small, and as the years flew by, so did the ages of the older kids. So it was time to move to a different beach – one with more stuff to interest the kids. So we began going to Fort Walton Beach and Panama City Beach. Some day trips; and some trips when we rented a house for the week. We had fun, and Panama City Beach became our favorite. And having been in Alabama for so long, we had come to think that we would retire from the Army there, and I was excited to think that I would be able to spend many years at the beaches in Florida.

The reality of life is that we retired in Central Texas, many, many miles from the beach. Our pool has replaced the lake and the ocean, and we have fun here. But deep in the recesses of my heart, I love the beach and when I have a chance, I go. Since we have been here, I have had the chance to go back to some of my favorite beaches. I have been to the fishing villages of New England, been TDY to Southern California for almost 3 months, living in Huntington Beach and walking in the sand almost daily. I have been to Capitola several times, and less than two years ago was able to go TDY to Oahu and stayed in a condo in Turtle Bay, on the North Shore. I spent many evenings sitting on Hawaii’s Sunset Beach, and others. To me, the beach will always be my special place and I long to visit them again in my life.

But today, many of those beaches are threatened. The habitats for many fish, oysters and water fowl have been wiped out. The beautiful marshlands are coated with oil. Wildlife is under siege. The beaches of the Louisiana Gulf Coast are being fouled. Livelihoods are threatened and the fishing industry will be destroyed for generations. Today marks the 60th day of the gulf oil disaster, and there is no fix in site. To date, nothing has worked, and the oil keeps gushing. I watch and listen to the news; I see fingers being pointed and the blame game in full force, but what I do not see is much progress, (in the words of President Obama) plugging the “damn hole”. Instead, this is what I see.

I see a speech of empty rhetoric from the Oval Office that just fixed blame, called for a new energy policy and assured us the he is on top of the situation, but I don’t see the oil flow easing.

I see the Congress, the ENTIRE Congress incensed with righteous indignation, and grilling the BP Oil execs for hours in front of the television cameras, seeking a photo op and perhaps 10 seconds of footage that can be used in a reelection commercial, but I do not see much going on to clean up the mess.

I see the executives of BP promising to make the Gulf of Mexico and its people whole, but I don’t see much money flowing into the economy and the bank accounts of the families.

What I do see is very disturbing. I hope I can make this clear and understandable. First, BP is in great trouble. We have yet to know the full scope of how much of this accident was caused by poor safety practices, etc. We may never know, but this much I do know, BP has some explaining to do.

As does the Government of the United States and its leaders, starting at the top. Why did it take over 10 days before the oil disaster was ever addressed by the President? Oh, I have heard him and many others say that he has been on top of it since day one, but that statement is not borne out by the facts. Why was it weeks before he ever bothered to leave the golf course and head to the Gulf? It was only after he was taking a beating from his own party and watching his poll numbers head south that he packed up and headed south, blaming BP and sending scores of lawyers to sue BP and whoever else they find, was the response of the government.

I find it very amusing, if amusement can be pulled from this crisis, that the President and Congress demonize BP on the one hand, and on the other say that only BP has the ability and technology to stop the leak and clean up the mess. So BP is the bad guy and the good guy, all at once.

At about the 30 day mark we heard disturbing news. The day of the explosion and the detection of the massive leak 5000 feet below the surface, several foreign governments, including Netherlands, Great Britain, and several others, offered assistance and technology to clean up the spill. The ability to skim off the oil before it reached shore. After all, it was far enough out in the gulf to allow the positioning of the equipment and operations to begin before the first drop of oil came within miles of a grain of white sand or a bed or oysters. But the administration turned down all the offers of help, in writing. Why? The reason was a 1920’s law called the Jones Act. This law requires that only members of trade unions be authorized to participate in disaster clean up. The provision of that law also allows for the President to suspend its use. Every President from the time the law was enacted to now has suspended the use of the provision when disasters have occurred, for disaster cleanup. This included the clean ups of major hurricanes like Camille and Katrina, as well as during the cleanup of the Exxon Valdez oil spill. Why now, does a President refuse help when it is available? In the Army we referred to that as the 4-Ps – Piss Poor Prior Planning. Sixty days later, we quietly go back to those governments with our hands out asking for help…. But the oil is no longer miles out to sea…it is on the shore.

Several private companies in the United States offered help with technology that could clean up the mess. They were told no. Actor Kevin Costner had developed a process that sucks oil from the sea and separates the oil from the water, and demonstrated how it worked. Through the process he developed, the oil is funneled into a container and clean salt water is sent back into the sea. He was told no. And why are there miles of protective boom sitting in warehouses throughout the country, idle? Why has the Governor of Louisiana not been given the authority by the Feds to build sand barriers to keep the oil off the beaches and out of prime fishing and oyster areas? Last week the Louisiana Governor authorized oil skimming barges to go out into the Gulf and start skimming oil – a process that was working. Why did the Coast Guard, under orders from the Department of Homeland Security shut down the operation, require all the boats return to harbor to be inspected for fire extinguishers and live vests? And why has the EPA, in the excuse of preventing an environmental disaster, stopped the use of chemicals that disbursed the oil and broke it down so that the microbes in the sea can eat the oil and the atmosphere can evaporate it? Isn’t the oil coming ashore a worse environmental disaster? I am not making this up. Check the stories in the press. They have reported all of this.

I could go on and on for pages and pages to show how the Administration, like the gang that couldn’t shoot straight, has bungled this entire operation – from the day one they claimed to be on top of it. But I am too upset. I cannot think of anything recently that has upset me more. Why? I saw on the news tonight that today the oil has started washing up on Panama City Beach!

Mr. President, you are on the golf course today at Andrews Air Force Base with the Vice President and several of the leaders of your Administration. Why don’t you put down your golf clubs and your incompetence, stop playing the blame game and looking for “someone’s ass to kick”, order and authorize the procedures that will allow the cleanup to begin and to “PLUG THE DAMN HOLE!”