History
Standing on Mars, as the sunset radiates its final blue hues, one might wonder if humans will ever live there. Of course, it isn’t us that is standing there watching the strange-looking sunset, but one of the rovers placed there by NASA to explore the red planet. I find it odd to think that the red planet has a blue sunset, but that is definitely the case. The rovers have clearly shown that fact. Interesting as it is to see pictures of a blue sunset, our mind tells us that it could just as easily be Sci-Fi or AI. Still, the prospect of seeing it in person is infinitely remote. And living there is even more remote.
The air is not breathable. It is only about 1% of Earth’s atmospheric pressure 
and mostly toxic carbon dioxide. The water is frozen solid, buried beneath the soil or locked away in polar ice caps. The gravity is weaker than Earth’s, causing concern for its effect on human life. The fact is that nothing’s alive there anymore. There is no farmland, no trees, and no shield against dangerous cosmic rays, meaning a single day on Mars is like getting a constant chest X-ray. Even if these obstacles could be overcome, there is no equipment that would work to do the job. And ultimately, the cost to get to Mars is completely prohibitive. Every trip into space costs millions and setting up and running a colony on Mars would take an enormous amount of money too…likely more than the world currently has. We just don’t have the extra resources to overcome all the technical challenges and risks involved in building a settlement beyond Earth. Not to mention 
the cost of transporting those people back and forth from Mars to Earth as the need arises…meaning ongoing astronomical costs.
Still, if Mars is ever colonized, the people who move there will find some things in life to be very different than on Earth. The planet is covered in red dirt, and any plant life that grows there would be in a greenhouse, because plants could not grow outside. People can’t live outside either, so there would never be the opportunity to go outside for a walk…or for any other reason for that matter. And while a blue sunset might seem like a novel idea, I think the tradeoff for that blue sunset would be more than I would want to pay. I guess I’m not that much of an adventurer.
During World War II, POWs taken prisoner by American troops often ended up in the United States, where they were “employed” in camps around the country. The men were often put to work farming and other types of labor that had been done by the soldiers in the past. At the end of the war, many of those prisoners wanted to stay in the states, because they had been treated so well by the Americans. This was in great contrast to the way Allied soldiers were treated in POW camps in Germany and Japan.
It was Christmastime in 1944, and three feet of snow had fallen on a small, isolated prisoner of war timber camp near Dubois, Wyoming. Because of the snow, the prisoners and Army camp staff were snowbound together for several days. If any of the staff had hoped to get home for Christmas with their families, they were quickly losing all hope of that happening. On Christmas Eve, POW Rudolf Ritschel noted, they all “celebrated together quite according to German custom. The men on both sides were deeply impressed by the entertainment presentations.” Sometimes situations, especially in wartime, can bring about a kind of camaraderie that would not have been possible if circumstances had been different.
Lieutenant Harold Harlamert, commander at Camp Dubois, provided details about the Christmas program the POWs put on in their mess hall, a program he said was “exceptionally good.” The prisoners arranged a special table for the American personnel and shared their Christmas treats and food with them. They even handed out typed, printed programs featuring acts and poems that playfully teased both fellow POWs and the US military members. Harlamert recalled a small orchestra playing Christmas music while the prisoners joined in singing German carols, with instruments provided by the YMCA. There was also a special Christmas tree lighting. The US Army camp interpreter, dressed as Santa Claus, pinned large “PW” letters on his back, which amused the 
prisoners since they were required to wear those letters on their own clothes. Among Santa’s gifts were letters recently arrived from the prisoners’ families in Germany, which brought them great joy. Those letters from home, especially at Christmas are vital to morale. In addition to the wonderful letters in 1944, the men at Camp Dubois, as with most American POW camps, were treated to a nice Christmas party too. It was a good day, in spite of the three feet of snow they had received.
Whether a big rancher or a small one, the loss of cattle to rustlers is a hit that no one can afford to just write off. The cattleman, John Chisum, born in Tennessee in 1824, knew that only too well. Chisum had moved to Paris, Texas with his family when he was eleven. As an adult, he worked for several years as construction contractor. In 1854, he decided to go into the cattle ranching business, and by 1875, Chisum was running more than 80,000 head of cattle near the Pecos River in Lincoln County, New Mexico. Such a massive herd spread over a remote area inevitably drew rustlers, and Chisum claimed to have lost nearly 10,000 head to thieves. As expected, he became very frustrated, so he teamed up with two other New Mexico cattle kings to take on the small cattlemen and merchants they suspected of the thefts. Their main targets were two Irishmen who owned a large general store, known as the House, in the town of Lincoln. Not only did the House support the rustlers and small ranchers Chisum despised, but it also secured most government contracts for supplying beef to Army posts and Indian Reservations, cutting into the big ranchers’ ability to sell cattle directly to these buyers at high profits.
In 1878, when a deputy sheriff working for the House killed one of Chisum’s allies, the Lincoln County War 
broke out. But the conflict was about more than just the death of his alley. It was a fight for economic and political dominance in the region. Chisum and other big ranchers turned their cowboys into gunslingers, including a likable young man named William Bonney, better known as Billy the Kid. Billy quickly became one of their most loyal and ruthless supporters, helping kill many of the House’s backers. When the House eventually won, Bonney asked Chisum for $500 for his deadly work. Chisum refused, and Billy retaliated by stealing his cattle and horses. Without the protection of Chisum and other powerful allies, Billy’s fate was sealed, and in 1881, his former friend Pat Garrett shot him dead.
After the Lincoln County War and the constant loss of cattle to rustlers and Native Americans, Chisum saw 
much of his wealth and influence slip away. Still, when he passed away in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, just three years after the war ended in 1881, his estate was valued at half a million dollars…a testament to the enormous fortune he had built. If he was worth 500,000 in 1881, after losing “much of his wealth,” one can only imagine how much he had been worth in his heyday. Chisum passed away on December 23, 1884, at the age of 60, from complications following surgery to remove a growth from his jaw. Unmarried, he left his $500,000 estate and ranches to his brothers, Pitzer and James. It was a sad ending to the life of a great cattleman.
England once had a restriction on Christmas that endured very nearly 400 years. This boycott authorized by the Puritan Parliament from 1647 to 1660 stemmed from Puritanical beliefs. The ban led to widespread public backlash and the eventual repeal of the ban. It all started during the English Nationwide conflict. During this time, the festival of Christmas was made unlawful and the people who took part in the celebrations were rebuffed. All types of Christmas festivity, including enriching, devouring, and present giving was banned and individuals who wouldn’t agree were fined or even detained. This boycott was in the end lifted, but it lastingly affected the English public’s disposition towards Christmas. Because of the pressure applied by the Puritans, in 1647, during the English Civil War, the Parliament declared Christmas illegal. The Puritans viewed Christmas as a time of excess and immorality, believing that it encouraged drinking, gambling, and other sinful behaviors. They sought to abolish festive celebrations, viewing them as contrary to their religious principles. As a result, all festivities associated with Christmas, including decorations, feasting, and gatherings, were prohibited. 
As you can imagine, the ban was met with significant public resistance. Many people continued to celebrate Christmas in defiance of the law, leading to riots and protests across the country. For instance, in Norwich, riots broke out, resulting in numerous casualties. The public’s discontent was evident as they hung holly and other decorations in protest against the restrictions. While Oliver Cromwell is often associated with the ban, it was Parliament that enacted the legislation. Cromwell, as Lord Protector, enforced stricter laws against Christmas celebrations, including patrols to prevent festive gatherings. Cromwell, born on April 25, 1599, was an English statesman, politician, and soldier, widely regarded as one of the most important figures in British history. He came to prominence during the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, initially as a senior commander in the Parliamentarian army and later as a politician. Cromwell was one of the leading advocates of the execution of Charles I in 
January of 1649, which led to the establishment of the Commonwealth of England.
The ban proved to be deeply unpopular, and the public’s desire to celebrate Christmas persisted despite the legal restrictions. Amazingly, the ban on Christmas remained in place until the Restoration of the monarchy in 1660. King Charles II, upon his return to power, reinstated Christmas celebrations, marking the end of the Puritanical restrictions. This reinstatement helped to revive the festive spirit associated with Christmas in England. Christmas was banned in America from 1659 to 1681 for the same reasons.
Most likely everyone has heard of Cleopatra. She belonged to the Ptolemaic dynasty. She was a descendant of Ptolemy, who was one of Alexander the Great’s generals. Her family ruled Egypt from the city of Alexandria, which was, of course, named after Alexander the Great. A strange fact about the Ptolemaic dynasty is that every male ruler was named Ptolemy, which makes studying them pretty confusing. Cleopatra was not, of course, a male descendant, and women were often considered incapable of learning, or at least incapable of learning very well. Nevertheless, while Ancient Egyptian is known as one of the hardest languages to learn, Cleopatra mastered it…along with eight other languages, including Ancient Greek, Ancient Iranian, Ancient Parthian, Syriac, Ethiopian, Troglodyte, Hebrew, and Arabic. While she was “just a woman,” she proved herself to be very intelligent. Of course, IQ could not be measured in those days, and as we all know, women are just as intelligent as men, so for Cleopatra to master nine languages, while an amazing feat, is not unheard of among women or men.
Cleopatra VII was famous for her political skill and romantic ties to Julius Caesar and Mark Antony. She was also a shrewd entrepreneur with a thriving perfume and cosmetics empire. Her factories near the Dead Sea produced some of the most coveted beauty products of the ancient world, like Kohl eyeliner, rouge, and luxurious fragrances. She personally experimented with ingredients and formulas, often testing them on herself. This booming beauty business brought immense wealth to Egypt and shaped cosmetic trends across the Roman Empire. Her lavish recipes featured crushed pearls, gold flakes, and rare plant extracts from Africa 
and Asia, making her creations exclusive to royalty and the wealthy elite. Cleopatra was very much ahead of her time when it came to manufacturing and business. Truly, she was lightyears ahead of many of the men in her era and even modern eras.
Cleopatra VII, born around 70/69 BCE, was the last reigning monarch of Egypt’s Ptolemaic Kingdom. The daughter of Ptolemy XII, she ascended to the throne with her brother, Ptolemy XIII, after their father’s death. Her famous ties with Julius Caesar and Mark Antony played a key role in her fight to keep Egypt free from Roman control. Though of Greek heritage, she fully embraced Egyptian culture and earned a reputation for her sharp mind and political skill. Her rule came to an end with her death in 30 BCE, marking the fall of the Ptolemaic dynasty and the start of Roman rule in Egypt.
The survivors of the Holocaust faced many challenges upon their liberation, not the least of which was what we now call, “survivor’s guilt” but had no real name back then. It was something felt by survivors of the camps and those hidden to avoid the camps alike. Those who survived the camps, while their friends, neighbors, and especially their loved ones were slaughtered, could never understand what caused them to be among those who miraculously made it out of the Nazi death camps. They hadn’t led a necessarily purer life. They weren’t more religious or kinder than others, and in fact some felt like so many others deserved to survive more than they did, and yet those very people were chosen for death. Everyone knew that the Nazis didn’t necessarily have any rhyme or reason for the people chosen to die, but that didn’t make their survival any more sensible. So, many of them spent years feeling that they should have died in the place of others.
The people hidden, especially those hidden in “plain sight” who had to pretend to be something they weren’t…basically gave up their faith as Jews, and pretended to be Catholic, Protestant, or even Agnostics to survive. They did what they could to look less Jewish and refused to wear the Jewish star on their clothing, as had been ordered. They carried false papers and moved around Nazi territory as “Aryan” people, even if they had dark hair. Many of the hidden or adopted children, especially those who didn’t know it until years later, felt like they had betrayed God. They felt like they had abandoned their faith to save their lives. This group couldn’t exactly go back, because they didn’t know how to be Jewish anymore. That past, along with their birth names had been erased from their lives, and they felt like they couldn’t retrieve it. Those who tried to become “Jewish” again, often found that they didn’t fit in there anymore either. They didn’t know the prayers, and they didn’t understand the holidays. They just didn’t fit anymore, and they thought God might even be mad at them now.
No one walked away from survivalship of the Holocaust unscathed. Many people were no longer in the same country, although many felt that was not a bad thing. They weren’t sure they were “wanted” in that country or even in the family they now found themselves living with. Nevertheless, they were now part of an “elite” class of people. Elite, only in that they made it through. I don’t suppose they felt like an “elite” class of people though. In many ways, they may have even felt like traitors…to their friends, family, and neighbors who didn’t survive…like they should have done something to facilitate their own demise. Still, I believe that if their friends, 
family, and neighbors could talk to them now, they would say, “No, you needed to survive!! Someone had to make it out…to tell the world what happened, to show that our people would not be destroyed…to survive!! Someone had to do it!!” Their survival was the only way to carry on for those who were lost…even though it was the hardest single act they could perform, and the one about which they felt the most guilt.
As medicine has evolved, there have been a number of “old wives’ tales” and downright dangerous “cures” for many ailments. Black Death (Bubonic Plague) was no different. The Black Death was a 19th-century term that refers to the plague epidemic that swept through Europe between 1347 and 1352 CE, killing around 30 million people there and many more worldwide as it grew into a pandemic. It gets its name from the black buboes…swollen lymph nodes…that appeared on victim’s bodies. The plague was caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis, spread by fleas on rodents, usually rats, though people of the time didn’t know that. It wasn’t discovered until 1894 CE. 
At the start of the hysteria, many blamed supernatural forces like God’s wrath, the devil’s work, or planetary alignments, along with “bad air” or imbalances in the body’s “humors,” believed to be key to good health. With no understanding of the disease’s cause, a cure was impossible, but people still tried remedies based on the era’s medical knowledge from figures like the Greek doctor Hippocrates, philosopher Aristotle, and Roman physician Galen, as well as religious beliefs, folklore, herbalism, and superstition. These cures, most ineffective and some deadly, fell into five main categories: animal-based treatments; potions, fumigations, bloodletting, and pastes; fleeing infected areas and persecuting marginalized communities; religious practices; and measures like quarantine and social distancing.
Most of these had little to no effect on the Black Death, but one “cure” that was even more outlandish than any other, was the “bacon grease” cure. Somehow, a rumor got started that the Black Death could be completely cured by drinking bacon grease!! The very thought makes me nauseous!! Maybe that was what made it seem 
like serious medicine, who knows. Nevertheless, the people, in their panicked state would jump at anything, no matter how bizarre looking it was, to cure this horrible disease. Of course, bacon grease did nothing against the plague. Basically, it was a waste of time…a disgusting waste of time. I don’t like eating the fat on meat, and for me, bacon must be extra, extra crispy…like almost burnt, in order to be eaten. I do love bacon, but not slimy, and I would never “eat” or “drink” the grease from the bacon. That is only good for one thing…the trash. I’m sure that in their panicked state, the people were open to suggestion on things, and that definitely shows in the use of bacon grease as a potential cure for the Black Death.
It’s funny how people we think of as being from very different eras, can actually be from the same era. That’s because we view then from the window of accomplishments, martyrdoms, or heroics, rather than looking at the era they were actually born to. In the case of Martin Luther King Jr and Anne Frank, we view her as the Holocaust years from the opening of Dachau on March 22, 1933, to the end of her short life in February or March of 1945 in Bergen-Belsen. On the other hand, we view Martin Luther King Jr from the window of the Civil Rights Movement, of which he was leader from 1955 until his assassination on April 4, 1968. Their most recognized years seem to have nothing to do with each other, but the fact is that Martin Luther King Jr was born on January 15, 1929, and Anne Frank was born on June 12, 1929. These were two people from the exact same era, in fact, he was just five months older that she was.
Their lives were equally valuable, even though their causes and their situations were very different. What they had very much in common was that they were both persecuted people, and all based on their race. I don’t understand why people act that way. Would we really want everyone on Earth to be the same. Our differences are really our strengths. Nevertheless, from the dawn of time to present day, we feel the need and even the right to condemn, hate, bully, and even kill people who think differently, believe differently, and even look different than we do. People consider it their right, even though it is absolutely not their right. God created all men to be equal, and we should not try to change that.
Martin Luther King Jr tried to change the irrational views of a nation and yes, the world to understand that skin 
color has nothing to do with a person’s value, knowledge, or goodness. It’s what a person does with their life, and not how they come into it that matters. Anne Frank never really had a chance to “say” anything to that world in her lifetime. Nevertheless, in her diary, she told the world the truth of what happened to her and her family. Her voice was not silenced, as the Nazis would have liked it to be. While Anne Frank did not survive her time in Bergen-Belsen, dying just days before the camp was liberated, her diary did survive, and while her dad, who also survived didn’t really want to have his daughter’s diary published because of the painful content, he knew it was the right thing to do, so he let her story be told.
Martin Luther King Jr and Anne Frank died in different ways and at different times, but their stories have carried on for years to show the devastating effects of hatred against different races, creeds, and religions. I can’t say we as a nation have learned the lessons that their stories teach, but we certainly should have.
Flannan Isles Lighthouse is a lighthouse near the highest point on Eilean Mòr, one of the Flannan Isles in the Outer Hebrides off the west coast of Scotland. It’s biggest claim to fame was in 1900, when its three keepers disappeared in mysterious circumstances. The men were never found.
The first sign that something was wrong on the Flannan Isles came on December 15, 1900, when the steamer Archtor, traveling from Philadelphia to Leith, logged that the lighthouse light wasn’t working during bad weather. The lighthouse was essential to the shipping industry, as it protected the ships from crashing into the shore on the island. When the ship arrived in Leith on December 18th, the report was passed to the Northern Lighthouse Board for investigation. The relief vessel, the lighthouse tender Hesperus, couldn’t leave Breasclete, Lewis, as planned on December 20th, because of rough weather, so it didn’t reach the island until midday on December 26th. The lighthouse was staffed by three men…James Ducat, Thomas Marshall, and Donald McArthur…while a fourth man rotated time ashore.
When they arrived, the crew of the Hesperus and the relief keeper found that the flagpole was bare, the usual provision boxes for restocking were missing from the landing stage, and no lighthouse keepers were there to greet them. Captain Jim Harvie tried to make contact by sounding the ship’s whistle and firing a flare, but he got no response. A boat was sent out, and Joseph Moore, the relief keeper, went ashore alone…something I don’t think I would want to do. He found the compound’s entrance gate and the main door both shut, the beds unmade, and the clock unwound. After returning to the landing stage with this news, he headed back to the lighthouse with Hesperus’s second mate and a seaman. Their search showed the lamps had been cleaned and refilled, and a set of oilskins was left behind, hinting that one keeper had gone out without them. There was no trace of the keepers anywhere, inside the lighthouse or on the island.
At that time, Moore and three volunteer seamen were left on the island to attend the light and Hesperus returned to Lewis. Captain Harvie sent a telegram to the Northern Lighthouse Board dated December 26, 1900, stating: “A dreadful accident has happened at the Flannans. The three keepers, Ducat, Marshall and the Occasional have disappeared from the Island… The clocks were stopped and other signs indicated that the accident must have happened about a week ago. Poor fellows they must have been blown over the cliffs or drowned trying to secure a crane.” Of course, this was not what might be considered an “official” cause of death, as there never really was an official cause of death, since there were no bodies found.
On Eilean Mòr, the men searched every inch of the island for clues about the keepers’ fate. While the east landing was untouched, the west landing showed clear signs of storm damage. A box 108 feet above sea level was broken open with its contents scattered. Also, iron railings were bent, the iron railway along the path had been torn from its concrete, and a rock weighing over a ton had been shifted. At the cliff’s top, more than 200 feet above sea level, turf had been ripped away up to 33 feet from the edge.
On December 29, 1900, Robert Muirhead, superintendent for the Northern Lighthouse Board (NLB), arrived to investigate the incident. Having personally recruited the three missing men, he knew them well. After inspecting the clothing left behind, he concluded that Ducat and Marshall had gone to the western landing stage, while McArthur, the “Occasional,” had stepped out into heavy rain wearing only his shirt sleeves. He noted that leaving the light unattended was a clear violation of NLB rules and remarked that some of the damage to the west landing was “hard to believe unless you saw it yourself.”
“From the evidence I gathered, I was convinced the men had been on duty until dinner time on Saturday, December 15th. They had gone down to secure a box containing mooring ropes, landing ropes, and other gear, stored in a crevice in the rock about 110 feet above sea level. Then, an unusually large wave surged up the face of the rock, rose above them, and came crashing down with such immense force that it swept them away entirely. Ducat left a wife and four children, while McArthur a wife and two children. The disappearances tarnished the lighthouse’s reputation for many years after the incident.”
No bodies were ever found, but strange sightings sparked “fascinated national speculation” in newspapers and magazines of the time. Outlandish theories followed…perhaps a sea serpent carried the men away, they secretly boarded a ship to start new lives, they were kidnapped by foreign spies, or they fell victim to a ghostly vessel 
known locally as the “Phantom of the Seven Hunters.” Even more than a decade later, the mystery was still being remembered and embellished. Some suggest that there were signs of a struggle and meals left uneaten or interrupted, but neither was the case. In a first-hand account, Moore, the relief keeper, mentioned, “The kitchen utensils were all very clean, suggesting they must have left sometime after dinner.” Speculation continues to this day.
War is dangerous. It is a fact of which we are all too well aware. There are enemies and their weapons everywhere, and one wrong move can end the career of a soldier in seconds. Knowing that, doesn’t keep soldiers from doing their duty, but sometimes, things can go wrong in a very different way, as was the case on this day, December 13, 1916, when a massive avalanche struck a barracks near Italy’s Mount Marmolada, killing hundreds of Austrian soldiers. Over the next several days, avalanches in the Italian Alps claimed the lives of an estimated 10,000 Austrian and Italian troops during World War I. While some witnesses suggested these avalanches might have been deliberately triggered as weapons, there’s little evidence to support that in this case, though it is possible that avalanches were used this way at other points in the war. I guess there are many ways to create mass destruction. Avalanches certainly do the job thoroughly.
In late April 1915, Italy joined World War I on the side of Britain, France, and Russia against Germany and 
Austria-Hungary. For the next three years, the Italian army warred with Austrian forces in brutal battles along the Isonzo River in the rugged mountains near the Italian-Austrian border. Life in the mountains was often harsher than the fighting itself, prompting one Austrian officer to remark, “The mountains in winter are more dangerous than the Italians.” If it wasn’t the freezing temperatures, it was trudging through the deep snow. The danger became devastatingly clear in mid-December 1916, when heavy snowfall in the Alps set the stage for deadly avalanches. It was a recipe for disaster, and disaster came with it.
Hundreds of Austrian soldiers were stationed at a barracks near the Gran Poz summit of Mount Marmolada and had no choice but to face serious danger from the elements. While the camp was strategically positioned to 
guard against an Italian attack, it sat directly beneath a mountain of unstable snow. On December 13, roughly 200,000 tons of snow, rock, and ice came crashing down onto the barracks. Around 200 soldiers were rescued, but 300 lost their lives, and only a few bodies were ever recovered.
That December was filled with severe weather. Over the week following the initial tragedy, relentless snow and fierce winds made tragedies like the one at Marmolada alarmingly common. Whole regiments vanished in moments, and some victims’ bodies didn’t surface until spring. By the end of December 1916, avalanches had claimed an estimated 9,000 to 10,000 soldiers’ lives.
