red clay ponderings

Hmmm… what shall I ponder on today?

Fight Like a Girl

Fight Like a Girl?

I’ve loved that empowering encouragement since it first became a marketing slogan.

But if one of the girls in a fight is really a man, dressed like a girl, then the fight is out of balance. How can a girl physically fight like a girl and win, if she’s fighting a man?

She can’t.

This is madness. And what are we doing? We are letting madness control us. Women and men should be fighting FOR the girls. And for the boys too. But we sit idle, and do nothing.

For the record… it doesn’t matter to me how anyone identifies. But fairness and equality does matter. In non-physical careers, gender doesn’t change things (usually). But in sports and physically challenging endeavors, where promotion and honor is based on physical strength, it matters. Allowing males to compete physically against females, is wrong. Males and females are divergent. A physical contest between them is an unequal match. It’s unfair to the girls who have worked hard to succeed in their sport.

A man who emotionally feels like a girl, doesn’t magically become a girl. We all know this. Emotion doesn’t change the fact that a human born a man will always carry the stronger bones and muscle of a warrior. Even if a man has surgery and takes drugs to change his physical appearance, his core doesn’t change.

God intended for men to be warriors. He designed them physically stronger than women. Regarding intelligence though, he made us equals. (There are exceptions here…. on both sides😉).

If the boys want to battle it out with a girl in the sport of academics, I have no problem there. That playing field is equal. Bring it on.

But in competitive sports, stay off the girl’s field.

You Do You

I know something you may not know yet…

Wearing your natural hair is a brave and empowering move.

When you choose to grow your natural crown…you remove pretense. You feel more spirited, more daring. Whether your intentions are to make a bold statement or not… isn’t important. Because regardless of intent, your decision to walk away from the box makes subtle, yet very loud proclamations…

I am confident.

I like me. No, I love me.

I’m not here to please you.

Move along with your negativity.

What happened to get me up on my soapbox today?

Yesterday, a friend showed me a video of her friend… a woman who had recently stopped coloring her hair. She told me people were telling her friend that, with her grey hair, she looks older than her mom, or grandma… (I don’t remember precisely, because about that time, my blood pressure started rising).

My friend mentioned that she was concerned with how unhealthy her hair was beginning to look, and considered the damage was caused from dyes.

She asked if I colored my hair to make it silver. I told her I didn’t, and explained the process I experienced when growing out my natural hair. I could sense her hesitation as she touched her hair and looked in the mirror. I could feel all the comments running through her head:

“she sure looks older”… “must be somebody’s grandma”…. “no longer attractive “…. “man, she aged fast”…

I’ve heard all of them. Those carelessly spoken words sting at first. But then you realize they’re spoken out of insecurities and naïveté, and you feel empathy for the person hurling the dart.

Women shaming other women for aging naturally and beautifully, exposes a dark shallowness in the heart of the critic.

You might think, “Who do these women think they are? Cleopatra? Aphrodite? Helen of Troy?”

No, they don’t feel like those legendary beauties. Most likely, they more closely identify with Olive Oil, or the Sea Hag… or the little girl on the playground who became broken and self-conscious from the taunts of an insecure seven year-old bully.

It takes a while to get to that understanding.

Not to be misleading, I’m all about taking care of my skin with excellent skincare products (you know where to find me… ). There is nothing wrong with slowing down the natural progression and aging as gracefully as possible. But if a woman (or man) chooses to display their natural, God gifted hair… leave them alone.

Let them do them.

You do you.

That’s what sweet little Cooper said to me, “You do you, Diffy”. ~ and it was excellent advice from a six-year-old.

Listen, if you want to color your hair until you’re one hundred and three, go right ahead Sister! You do you. But don’t shame the thirty year old that chooses to let her (his) silver sparkle like diamonds in a black sky. Let it be.

You do you.

Goodbyes Hurt the Most…

“Goodbyes hurt the most, when the story is untold.” Jenny


Hey Friends,

Shotgun Road itunes717

My son, Garrett Able and I have created a podcast. It was released today on Apple Podcast and will soon be available on all podcasting sites.

The title of our podcast is Shotgun Road.

Why that title? Well, we lived on Shotgun Road for a long time. And without fail, the road’s name always generated curiosity.  Shotgun Road just seemed like a fitting name for a True Crime show.

We chose Jody LeCornu’s story as our first episode on Shotgun Road for several reasons.
But mainly, through Jody’s sister Jenny, we’ve come to know and love Jody. We want justice for Jody. We want her family to have their questions answered.

We are doing this for Jenny.

And also, we chose her story, because Jody’s story could happen to anyone.

Jody LeCornu was a college student and part time bank teller. By all accounts, she was as kind-hearted a girl as you will find. She was fun, yet considerate of the feelings of others. Her dad’s pet name for her was Sunbeam, an appropriate name for one who brought light to the lives around her.
But one cold morning, darkness extinguished that light.

In this episode of Shotgun Road, we pick up Jody’s story, where her life ended… in a Baltimore parking lot, on a snowy, pre-dawn morning in 1996. She was young and beautiful, just 23 years old.
As of this recording, Jody has been gone as many years as she lived.

The night before she was murdered, Jody had hung out with friends at a local pub, The Mount Washington Tavern. On the morning of March 1, 1996, she and her fiancé had argued and he told her not to come home that night. – Imagine those being the last words you say to the woman you plan to marry.
Jody complied. She didn’t return to their apartment after classes and work, instead she went to the tavern. At closing, the tavern’s manager asked her to drive an employee home, and again she complied.
Presumably after driving the employee to his home, Jody stopped by a store and purchased a six-pack of beer. From there, she drove to the empty lot of a shopping center and parked her car.
These actions are confusing to the family.
Jody was a twin. And while many siblings have close relationships, there is nothing like the bond shared between twins. They know what the other feels, they understand how the other reacts in situations. Even across the span of a continent, there is an undeniable link… one that senses when something isn’t right. And that’s how it was, when Jenny’s call to Jody on the morning of March 2nd went unanswered. She says she had “a feeling of not being good”. Her sister always answered her phone.
I’ve spoken with Jenny regarding Jody’s behavior on her last night, and Jenny says there are several actions that were out of character for her sister.
* Jody was afraid of the high crime in Baltimore. She had spoken of this fear many times.
* She was cautious, not willing to insert herself into potentially dangerous situations
* She was afraid to drive in the snow.
* She didn’t like to drive late at night.
* She was afraid of everything.
* She suffered from anxiety
For 23 years, the LeCornu Family has sought answers from the Baltimore County police department. Sighting an ongoing investigation, the agency refuses to hand over details. The years of frustrating roadblocks and legal battles have taken a toll on the family… physically, emotionally and financially.
In the beginning, Jody and Jenny’s dad, who was a marine colonel and state’s prosecutor against violent crimes, handled the correspondence with investigators. After his death, Jenny picked up the baton, and discovered that they really didn’t know much more than they knew in March 2, 1996.

What we know is this:

Sometime after ‪3AM‬, Jody pulled into the empty parking lot in the back of the Drumcastle Shopping Center. Security videos reveal that Jody parked her white Honda Civic in the snow covered lot. Phone records indicate she made several calls, one of them to the African American boyfriend of her female roommate.
At some point, though we don’t have time references, a white BMW is seen pulling into the secluded lot, parking near Jody’s Honda. A black male, emerged from the BMW and approached Jody.
We presume she put down her window to speak with him, an action that indicates she was familiar with the man. They appear to have conversation. As the man turned to walk towards his vehicle, Jody begins to drive away. But instead of continuing to his BMW, he stops at the rear quarter panel of the Civic, and fires into the back of Jody’s driver seat. Hitting her in the spine.

Somehow, this remarkable young lady had the presence of mind to exit the parking lot, drive across six lanes of roadway, and enter the parking lot of an all night grocery store.
Surveillance cameras captured the Honda slowly maneuvering the circumference of the shopping center lot. They also captured a white BMW waiting at the top of the lot. When Jody’s Honda kits a curb and comes to a stop, the BMW begins to slowly move towards her. The BMW comes to a stop beside her. The same black male exits the car, methodically walks to Jody’s side of the Honda, leans into the car, puts it in park, reaches across Jody and removes an unknown item from the car. He then walks slowly back to his vehicle, and casually exits the shopping center, onto York Road.

Soon, patrons entering the grocery store, and an employee of a nearby Boston Market, realize something is wrong with the young woman in the white Honda. She’s slumped over her steering wheel, still and silent, while her car idled.

Calls began coming into the emergency call center just before ‪4AM‬. Witnesses recounted that a black man of stocky build, wearing a green “army style” coat had followed the white Honda into the plaza, and removed something from the car. The witnesses description matched that of the man seen on the Drumcastle video.

In 23 years, that’s about all Jody’s family knows. They have filed for autopsy reports, requested copies of investigation reports and more. Each time, they are denied.
Representatives from m-Vac, A company with a specialized DNA process, have offered to test Jody’s clothing. M-Vac has been successful in retrieving DNA from porous surfaces. But the Baltimore police haven’t accepted their offer.

The same investigator assigned to Jody’s case on day one, is the same one assigned today. I don’t know, I’m not a law enforcement officer, and to be clear, I have immense respect for our men and women in blue. But it seems to me, after 23 years, the local agencies might want a fresh set of eyes. Perhaps M-Vac could pull out new dna, uncover new evidence.
Or maybe if the family could read the reports, something in them might trigger a memory. Something that may be crucial to understanding what made Jody drive alone, and park in a dark lot. It may be something that seems insignificant to investigating officers, who were unknown to Jody. But might hold all the answers.

I have a lot of questions about Jody’s case, some of the same questions her family has:
• Who would do this to a 23 year old just as she was getting ready to graduate and plan her wedding?
• Why?
• Is the murderer being protected by Baltimore?
• Was the 38 caliber shot that severed Jody’s spine a lucky hit by this coward, or was he trained in firearms?

Jenny is on a mission to find her sister’s killer. She has placed billboards, offered monetary rewards, and still no one has been forthcoming.

I believe that someone, somewhere, knows something.


Discuss Jody’s case with us on Facebook:

You can follow her journey on the Facebook page, Justice4Jody

Please sign Jenny’s petition, and help her find the answers she’s seeking.



garrett ny

Garrett Able, host of Shotgun Road.

Reinhardt’s Greed

The story, as told to me by a Waleska United Methodist Church minister:

Blanche Hagan requested a lunch meeting with the President of Reinhardt College (now University), Dr. Floyd Falany. During their lunch, Blanche told Dr. Falany she wished to donate money to build a church on Reinhardt’s campus.

Blanche already had plans for the architectural design of the chapel. In them, she had specifically designated a private Bride’s Room, to be included in the Narthex. This was important to her, and she shared this with President Falany.

Blanche Hagan donated several million dollars to Reinhardt College for this chapel.

And she established three scholarships for Reinhardt students:

• Blanche Hagan Scholarship for United Methodist Youth

• Hagan Scholarship for Dependent Children of United Methodist Ministers

• Blanche Hagan Ministerial Aid Award

Considering the designation of these scholarships, I can believe Blanche Hagan would not be happy with the eviction notice Reinhardt University served to Waleska United Methodist Church.

Waleska UMC has called Hagan Chapel “home”, for more than three decades. The Waleska UMC and congregation have been woven into Reinhardt’s history from the founding of the school. Until Blanche gifted the chapel to the school, the congregation met off campus, in the old Briarpatch Church; a building lacking central heat and air, and indoor plumbing. Blanche was aware of this and realized she had a way to help both the church and the school.

Please read below, the thoughts and suggestions of Scott Jacobs.

Reinhardt University puts money above church, and is trying to evict the United Methodist Church after 140 years.

Folks, I am writing this to ask anyone involved with Reinhardt University to contact the University. Reinhardt University, a Methodist affiliated college for 140 years, has hosted the Waleska United Methodist Church since the college was founded. The church used the old Briarpatch Church for 80 years, and then moved several years ago to the new chapel built by the University for use by both the University and the church.

Reinhardt has suddenly decided to charge the Methodist Church an unpayable rent and ground upkeep, far beyond the church’s financial means. The current pastor of the church wrote to the church that, “Chairman Ken White, writing on behalf of the Reinhardt Board of Trustees, has indicated that if we fail to sign the agreement by May 31, 2019, we will have until the end of July “to vacate the premises or the University will proceed with legal action.”

Reinhardt was established as a Methodist institution, and the Methodist Church has supported the college for over 100 years. Many students and faculty have been active members of the church. Eviction of the church is so short-sightedly greedy that it is difficult to believe.

If you are an alumn of Reinhardt, please contact them and express your disagreement. Time is short before the church is evicted by the Sheriff.

Tiger, or Rocky?

Back in 2010, I lost respect for the man, Eldrick Woods.

His golf game didn’t matter to me. I saw a man who destroyed his family. And that did matter.

His story was so familiar, so personal, that my dad attempted a joke: “The news keeps talking about (insert the name of the man I was married to), but they keep calling him Tiger”. The joke was funny, in a sad way.

His wife’s story was similar to mine (minus the wealth 😉).

In a way that only one who has experienced the same pain and humiliation can understand, I recognized her emotional breakdown for what it was:

A reaction to months, maybe years, of heartache, loss, betrayal.

His fall from grace seemed to me deserving of his self-sabotaging behavior.

I thought he was done.

Most of you thought his story was over.

Obviously, he didn’t think so.

I don’t know if Eldrick the man has changed his old habits. I hope he has.

But Tiger.

Tiger changed. He decided to fight his way back.

I am happy for him. I am proud of his tenacity.

Americans love a good comeback. A rise from the ruins give us hope for our own victory story.

We love witnessing perseverance, a mind-shift, and goals achieved. It’s who we are. Those same character traits are the very ones that built the country we love.

If you’ve experienced a setback… know that you have a comeback in you, too. You’ve just got to work for it.



Too good not to share…

* Content below was written by Chris Field

He had it all. Everything. Until he didn’t. And the fall was not a small one. It was documented everywhere. All his sins, and there were plenty, for the world to see. Whispers, finger pointing, head shaking, headlines.

Slowly, with almost nobody watching and even less believing, he started coming back. An injury almost ended the comeback before it even started. He persevered through that as well.

Today, with the world watching, he does it. A generation who years ago sat with their dads watching Tiger win sat with their own kids now and said, “watch this.” A generation inspired to become and excel at golf by watching Tiger on TV as kids watched one more time today as he passed them on the leaderboard.

His children who watched it all unfold over the last decade with their own parts in the story are waiting for him just off the 18th green. The mom who watched her son have it all, and then lose it all, is waiting too. She never left, by the way. Mommas almost never do.

The story isn’t perfect. They never are. We never are. But it’s a heck of a good one. Watch closely kids. Being great is one thing. Being great after falling out of grace takes twice as much work and ten times as much courage. That’s the good stuff in life. That’s why a bunch of old dudes got tears in their eyes today.

Cowgirl Blessings

My favorite artist is also good with words. Her paintings make me happy. Her stories make me laugh… and they stab me in the heart.

Amy Wilmoth Watts is multi-talented. She’s a cow farmer, a true cowgirl.

A Blessed Cowgirl.

She deeply loves her horses, her dog Snowflake, her husband James. And her sister.

“Never judge a book by its cover.

That statement is never more true than when associated with Amy. I mentioned she’s a farmer. She wears a farmer’s attire. Denim and cotton, whites, blues and grays. She’s not frilly. She’s not flashy. She’s not concerned with fashion. She may even cut her own hair, but I can’t say for certain.

Her art though… Her art reveals a warm, vibrant soul. And it is beautifully flashy. I’m including some of her art in this article, but today, I bring your attention to her words. Her stories. One story in particular.

She so clearly reveals the angst of a teen, the stinging wound of not belonging. The discomfort of being an outsider. It’s those teens, I believe, the ones who are left to observe from the sidelines, that are most tenderly in tune with the emotions of others.

Another thing I admire about Amy… she has a clear understanding that God is in the bold, and in the imperceptible, spaces of our lives. That nothing is by chance or coincidence. You’ll see what I’m talking about in the following story Amy recently shared:

“Summer of 1981 and 15 years old when I moved with my family to Georgia and what I could notice was the trees that formed green walls to block the horizon. After growing up in Nebraska where it is impossible to sneak up on someone, and the wind carries the scents of the stockyards and the sound of the tornado sirens being tested every Saturday morning, I felt panicked and claustrophobic at once. A new place, a new school and all around me the houses reached to the sky and all four sides brick. Suburbia, a new place where you would be defined by your “Neighborhood”! When I close my eyes to recall my childhood, I feel the warmth of the sun on my face, and feel the wonder of possibility for the future, the excitement of things to come! Being a teenager, however, felt morose and ugly, the future seemed in my face and not happy to see me! There is a definite feeling I associate here. A feeling cannot be defined, but sheetrock and whitewash and newness, people from everywhere, MTV plays as a soundtrack, once it came out and everyone stayed home to watch it. “Our love’s in jeopardy>>” the first song I “saw”. Before that, famous singers and bands were mere pictures on album or cassette covers, now as they live and breathe! But, with all the newness and change, walls would close in on me in those days.

Our family of course could not rest in this new place until a church was located, and we were all keenly involved in the search. We tried a few here and there. A Saturday afternoon drive alerted us that a United Methodist Church would be found down a narrow gravel road with privet hedge growing so close that it scraped the sides of our station wagon as we followed it’s path. There we were to find a dark brown painted single wide trailer, hardly the kind of church building we were expecting and the sign said “Simpsonwood UMC”. My sisters and I had to laugh at the humble appearance! Surely this could not be a church of any spiritual import! The words my mother spoke ring in my ears to this day, “This church needs us.”

It was there settled and our family is written in the history books as charter members in what is now the Simpsonwood Church and Retreat Center. Our first Sunday, we went into the small room with folding chairs that served as sanctuary and with one small bathroom that opened up in the middle of the main wall. Cindy whispered that she had to go, and gave the door a yank. We all know how cheesy and ill made a trailer house door and knob can be and the throne was already occupied, with the woman there exposed for all to see! And we made our first impression thus. My sisters and I had been involved in youth group in Nebraska, and were sad to note that our new church did not have one. Maybe not, but this church “needed” our family! In a few weeks, we made posters to advertise a meeting, and persuaded a college aged young man to be in charge and what would be known as Simpsonwood UMYF(youth fellowship) was born.

The point of my story really begins here, as a few months went by, the new youth group “took off”, and young people already members came and brought their friends. My sisters and I were feeling like outsiders worse than ever. Not only were there other kids coming, but we were quick to recognize that these were a large group of the “popular” people, and not only were we not among them, we were newcomers to our own party. Cindy and I begrudgingly stuck with it, all the while distancing ourselves towards a morose and hormonal sulleness to which only teenage girl can adequately adhere.

The group became more than the college age young man could handle and God brought us a wonderful couple named Karen and Rob. “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” Karen and Rob saw right through the discomfort of our scenario, chances are good they were new themselves at one time or another. They reached out to us, and worked hard to makes us feel a part, just as Jesus calls all of us to do. When the time came for us to go on a camping retreat, Karen put Cindy and I in her cabin, and did all she could to make us feel special.

In the time of which I speak, a singer emerged named Dan Fogelberg and he was one of the soft rock kings of the 80s. He is best known in my world as the singer of “Run For the Roses”, which is recreated by various artists in Oklahoma City every year for the winner of the Reining Horse Futurity. “Auld Lang Syne” and “Longer” are two more hits at the time playing on the FM dial. On Saturday night of our camping retreat, word reached us that Karen’s dad had passed away unexpectedly. She made the decision out of necessity to stay with us, as she was one of our only chaperones and we were to leave the next day. That evening, we gathered around a campfire to sing(something all church groups should do more of!). Someone led the fellowship with his guitar, and without knowing of Karen’s loss, began to play and sing “Leader of the Band”. This is a song Dan Fogelberg wrote to honor his father as he came to the end of his life. It became too much for Karen, and she rose sobbing to return to the cabin. I sat frozen, and watched as my sister Cindy got up to follow her out. No one else seemed to even notice. As the song finished, I got up quietly and went out into the darkness to the cabin door and looked through the screen. Cindy and Karen sat together on a bottom bunk, Cindy with her arm around our youth leader comforting her. And there my sister ministered to one who had to her done the same. My sister was special! And what I already knew came plain. “Truly I say to you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

September of 2011 finds me in a charming café in downtown Santa Fe, and internet access has me looking through itunes to make a new running playlist for the streets of the Plaza call to me every morning while I am there. I found myself shopping through the “Songs of the 80s” and there on the list is “Leader of the Band” by Dan Fogelberg. I am immediately restored to a time and place, one seen through the distortion of a cabin’s screen door and the memory of my sister who now takes her own rightful place in heaven. I purchased the song, along with a few others, and memories followed in my footsteps along the foothills of the Sangre de Cristos that week and this is where the story, for those who have stuck with me, gets not strange, ethereal and satisfying. One evening, having a sandwich at the same café, I received a call from my gallery just a mile or so away. The woman told me with great excitement that she had sold my piece “Vaquero” a moment before, and the buyer was none other than the widow of Dan Fogelberg! She had just moved to Santa Fe after her husband lost his battle with cancer. My painting was the first thing she purchased for her new home. I was stunned, but not really by the coincidence. I have proof of Heaven above and those who dwell there on a daily basis and this is just one more. It makes me smile to think of Cindy watching over my daily affairs, and it is in her witness that I make decisions to guide my life as she always did, walking with the Lord! “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

~You can find Amy, and her art, in galleries around the USA. And on Facebook and Instagram.

Tough Enough – Amy’s tribute to the memory of her sister, Cindy.


Chris Watts has revealed how he murdered his family.

And it’s heinous.

He allowed attorneys and law enforcement officers to question him. The interview was videotaped and will be made public later this week.

Since learning some of the details, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the little girls and their last moments on Earth.

They loved their daddy.

They didn’t know him as a scary monster. But he is. More evil than anyone could have imagined. Heartless.

He killed his wife first, after she was sleeping. As he was wrapping her body in a sheet, the oldest daughter, Bella, woke and entered the room. She asked, “what are you doing to mommy?”

He loaded his wife’s pregnant body into his truck. Then he put both little girls, still alive, in the truck as well.

He drove 45 minutes to the oil well site where he was employed, and dumped his wife’s body onto the ground, next to his truck.

His little girls watched.

Then, he grabbed the favorite blanket of 3 year old Celeste, and suffocated her.

Next, he turned to the four-year-old. She pleaded with him,

“Daddy, please don’t do to me what you did to CeeCee”.

Her autopsy shows that she fought him.

I know we live in a “civilized society” (but do we?). In the USA we have the privilege of a humane Justice System.

But some criminals deserve the same punishment they dealt their victims.

I hope Chris Watts is not protected within the safety-bars of a solitary confinement cell. 😡

Shanann, Bella, Celeste and baby Niko,…we remember you.

May you rest in God’s embrace.

AOC – Acts of Carnage

My Dear Americans,

Be mindful of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Don’t simply wave her off as a nut-job.

The far-left is using her, pushing her. Just like they have done in the past. But they are much more bold and dangerous this time.

Last night, a news person said if AOC ran for president right now, she would win.

Netflix just paid $10 million to tell her story:

*Knock Down the House

Let that title sink in.

The Left is making sure she stays front and center, in the news.

They are counting on intelligent Americans to ignore her because “she’s young… she’s an idiot…she’s dumb….she’s clueless…”.

There are those in our current government who need a pawn in office. One they can control and manipulate. AOC is their perfect candidate/weapon.

Here’s a bit from her New Green Deal. Which is being endorsed by the current 2020 Democratic Presidential candidates:


“needs some “clear goals and a timeline.”

The timeline predicts ten to twelve years.


▪️Eliminate Nuclear Energy.

AOC plans to eliminate nuclear power. She wants it banned within 11 years. This would destroy America’s energy generation.

No worries, just rely on intermittent wind for your energy needs.

▪️Say goodbye to your cars and trucks.

Your chainsaws too! The GND will eliminate 99% of all vehicles. Imagine who will be the owners of the remaining 1%. That’s right… the Socialist Government Officials.

Not sure what we’ll do with all the metals, glass and rubber from our vehicles. Because our current ways of recycling will not be approved by the GND.

Remember this… AOC states she would like to replace every “combustion-engine vehicle”. Again, that’s your trucks, airplanes, boats, and cars. Within ten-twelve years.

Charging stations for electric vehicles will be built “everywhere,”. But how we will provide the energy needed to charge them is unknown.

▪️The Green New Deal

calls for the elimination of all fossil fuel energy production. This includes all oil and natural gas.

▪️Demolish and rebuild every building and structure in America.

Cortez plans to “retrofit every building in America” with “state of the art energy efficiency.” Yes.. she said “Every building in America.” What does that encompass? Every home, school, factory, hospital, church, and apartment building, and every other structure in the country. (Airports won’t matter, because airplanes and air travel will be eliminated).

▪️Emphasis on air travel.

She wants to end air travel. Friends, think about what that means. America will essentially be cut off from the rest of the world. And even from other Americans.

GND calls for building a “highspeed rail at a scale where air travel stops becoming necessary.”

… this means that Hawaiians, Puerto Ricans, and Alaskans living in remote areas are out of luck. Sorry! But really though… AOC ain’t sorry.

▪️A guaranteed GOVERNMENT employment.

The AOC-GND resolution promises the United States government will provide every single American with a job. That job will have benefits too: a “family-sustaining wage, family and medical leave, vacations, and a pension.”

How’s she going to pay for it? You, dear one. It’s you.

But if you don’t like working and paying taxes, you’re in luck! GND will pay “salaries” to those “unwilling to work” (AOC’s words not mine).

▪️She wants to educate you. Free Education! AOC promises free university or trade schools for every American, for life.

Who wants to take bets on who gets to decide what your field of study will be?

▪️She wants to feed you.

The GND promises the government will provide “healthy food” to every American.

Americans, are you reading those words carefully?

Food from the government. Not stores. Not farmers.

We should ask Venezuelans and citizens of the former USSR how that works.

▪️A House

AOC and the GND promises you a house. The government will provide, “safe, affordable, adequate housing” for every American citizen. Everyone of us.

Key word here is “adequate”. You won’t get to choose your house. The government will choose it for you.

If you’re single, living in the three bedroom home you built and raised your family in… the home you paid for… Well now, you know? You don’t really need that much space. Why do you need a 3 bedroom house when there’s only one of you? Pack it up. The government will move you to an efficiency apartment (of their choice), and give your home to someone who deserves/needs it more than you do.


The GND will provide “economic security” for all who are “unable or unwilling” to work. Unwilling. Why is she being so generous to those who choose to not work?

Good question…

– Because AOC wants you to be 💯 dependent on the government.

▪️Kill the Cows🐄🐂

Ocasio-Cortez admits that simply by eliminating beef from our diets, won’t actually help us achieve zero emissions. According to AOC: “because we aren’t sure that we’ll be able to fully get rid of farting cows and airplanes that fast.” (Not my words. Hers.) The only way to get rid of farting cows is… well… PETA might have something to say about that. But again, no worries. AOC will dismantle PETA.

AOC wants a full, dominating government. Don’t think for a minute that “it will never happen in the USA”.

That’s exactly what every Socialist country in history thought.

Until it did.

▪️Something to contemplate…

Take into account all companies and jobs that would be killed, with rendering the airline industry obsolete:







•Multiple airports in all 50 states and territories.

•Airport Stores, restaurants and vendors

•City employees based at airports (police officers, firemen, security guards,

public transportation)


•Jet fuel companies

•Airline Food Service Caterers

•Airport Custodians

•Rental Car employees

•Asphalt Companies

Americans, please take AOC seriously.

Your future may very well depend on it.

May God Bless and Protect America, 🇺🇸


Girls in the Windows

Chances are, you’ve seen this photo before. Perhaps…and I dare hope… you might know one of The Girls in the Windows.

Photo by: Ormond Gigli

I hope to locate at least one of the girls… I have a question I want to ask her.

The photo was taken in 1960, New York City. The girls ages would be late seventies and higher now.

Is she your mom? Your grandmother? Your aunt? Your mother-in-law?

Please contact me, if you can help in any way.

With gratitude,



Instagram @danitaclarkable

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