Resced Horses Update - One Week Down and Three Weeks to go from Quarantine

I can't believe I am turning into a farm boy. I learned new things like horses eat hay not straw and they lay in straw. I had many laughs over my first post. OK-the only thing about me that is even close to being a farmer is I have a Lands End Barn Coat, but then again many people would never know I have tats, so I am always full of fun surprises and stories.

I have spent many days out visiting with my new friends. Often, I just sit and journal and occasionally talking with them and feeding them treats. My goal is they will begin to trust me and we will become friends. Growing up I have been afraid of horses so this is all new to me.

Physically, the horses are already looking much better. They love hay, grain and water and I am sure they love being protected and in safe stalls. Their ribs are becoming less visible and I am starting to see  new hair growing back on their bodies.

Last night, Melissa and I went out to visit the horses together. I asked if I could go into the stalls and groom the horses. I started with my buddy, Courage. I loved coming his mane, brushing him down and trying to work on his tail. That poor tail is just a mess. It is a four foot dreadlocks. I am going to save that tail - strand by strand. Courage loves when I talk to him and will rest his head on my shoulder.

Hope is just beautiful. She is a classy lady and full of love. I groomed her next. She was more interested in " I want to groom Heath Bar since he has been watching me love on the other two."
She was "Scott just come over here and stand right here and I don't want you to move." She just wanted him to get used to me in his stall.  Well as I flipped my self over he came right and was gointg to bite my hind end...he wanted nothing to do with me...lol. Needless to say there was no grooming for Heath Bar. All in due time.

What I can tell you is I an blessed to have these new friends, Courage, Hope and Heath Bar. They are just like broken people...our love will heal them back and their love will heal us. Can't wait to see what happens this upcoming week.

Pax Voscium (Peace Unto You),

Scott

Rescueing a Family of Horses

This past weekend was quite an amazing experience for the Warner family. We have been looking for projects to help surviving families and returning veterans who suffer from PTSD as  a result of the the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars.

Equine Therapy has appeared to be very successful for veterans with PTSD and Melissa and I have thought it might be a benefit fot surviving families from these enduring wars. This past spring break we spent quite a large chunk of time at Solid Rock Therapuetic Riding Ranch in Uniontown Ohio. I have to admit I was taken back about how calming it was to love on a beautiful horse.

We had been speaking with Nikki Von Gutten, the executive director at SRTR about purchasing two horses to be used exclusively for military veterans and surviving families. Little did we know how quickly this dream would become a reality.

The S N Warner Family Association is pleased to share through the Private Heath Warner Memorial Fund we were able to rescue a family of horses - a mother and her two boys. They were literally hours away from being slaughtered when rescued. I have been taken back at the horrendous treatment of horses. These horse were owned by a dentist in Cambridge, Ohio. Apparently, tired of caring for these beautiful creatures he left them to fend for themselves in the fields  until selling them for slaughter. That is a different story for another day.

Let me introduce you to our special new family members, Courage, Heath Bar and Annies Hope.
I can't tell you how exciting and sad it was to meet them for the first time. Heath Bar came from the horse trailer first. He carried himself with such elegance; he appeared regal in fact. As he approached  I was surprised by his physical appearance...gaunt, scarred and unkept. He was followed by his brother Courage. He was so thin his ribs and flanks were visible. It was so sad. Lastly came their mother, Annies Hope. Again gaunt, ribs and scarmarks. All had their slaughter tags on their hind quarters - 240, 241 and 242.

I could not help but think of how mistreatment breaks spirits of not only horses but people. The amazing thing- the one thing that heals both is love. It is now our turn to love these horses back into physical and emotional health and in time they will heal so many through their unconditional love.
Today I spent my lunch visiting our new friends- feeding them carrots, straw and peppermint candies while speaking softly and slowly hoping to build trust. It was during this time I just sat and wrote this first of many blogs. I look so forward to sharing this journey with you.

As  I sat quietly I reflected on my son Heath. I am amazed how his life and legacy have touched so many people. In fact, I have come to think I am part of Heath's legacy. His death has created a new, authentic me. I chuckled to myself to think I am now turning into a farm boy. I was covered in straw as I left the barn and I loved it. Please join me on this journey. I will share photos as I can. These are pics of our new friends as they arrived at Solid Rock:)

Courage

 

Heath Bar

 

 







 





Annies Hope

Have Faith. Keep Talking.

Recently I had the opportunity to interview a World War II Pearl Harbor survivor. Needless to say, it was an honor to share his story on the cable show I was hosting, The Military Connection. During the interview, I asked him what he would say to encourage our returning Iraq and Afghanistan veterans. I was caught off guard by his simple, yet poignant response, "Have Faith. Keep Talking."
His message inspired me to keep the faith and to keep talking. Over the last three years, I have been undergone experiences that silenced me and shook my faith.
Following the debacle at Arlington National Cemetery. Melissa and I filed a complaint against with the Inspector Generals Office of the Department of Defense. They passed it to the Inspector Generals Office of the Army. Can you imagine that, the Army investigating the Army since Arlington National Cemetery is under the perview of the Army. Picture it like this. Can you imagine Enron investigating Enron following their scandalous corporate corruption? Exactly. It does not make sense. Again the good thing is we allowed this information to become part of public information under the Freedom of Information Act. Yes, now anyone can review our family's allegations of corruption with the Army and Arlington National Cemetery.
Just like that World War II veteran said, Have Faith. Keep Talking  I once was not in a position to talk but I am now stronger and I am breaking this silence. Over the last two years, I have been recording my thoughts and these will now be released in a book, Gold Star Father. Honoring a Hero. Remembering a Son. Writing this book has been a hard and theraputic. It has also made me angry and brought me hope. I hope you will be inspired as I share my solemn journey over the last six years.
I am no longer going to be silent and will begin to post again in my blog.   I ask for your continued support and prayers as I move ever slowly forward.

Semper Fi,
Scott Warner
Gold Star Father

History of TAPS

As I am preparing for Memorial Day, I ran across this history of the bugle call, TAPS. I thought you might like to learn about the history of this solemn call.

Of all the military bugle calls, none is so easily recognized or more apt to render emotion than Taps. Up to the Civil War, the traditional call at day's end was a tune, borrowed from the French, called Lights Out. In July of 1862, in the aftermath of the bloody Seven Days battles, hard on the loss of 600 men and wounded himself, Union General Daniel Adams Butterfield called the brigade bugler to his tent. He thought "Lights Out" was too formal and he wished to honor his men.

Oliver Wilcox Norton, the bugler, tells the story, "...showing me some notes on a staff written in pencil on the back of an envelope, (he) asked me to sound them on my bugle. I did this several times, playing the music as written. He changed it somewhat, lengthening some notes and shortening others, but retaining the melody as he first gave it to me. After getting it to his satisfaction, he directed me to sound that call for Taps thereafter in place of the regulation call. The music was beautiful on that still summer night and was heard far beyond the limits of our Brigade. The next day I was visited by several buglers from neighboring Brigades, asking for copies of the music which I gladly furnished. The call was gradually taken up through the Army of the Potomac."

This more emotive and powerful Taps was soon adopted throughout the military. In 1874 It was officially recognized by the U.S. Army. It became standard at military funeral ceremonies in 1891. There is something singularly beautiful and appropriate in the music of this wonderful call. Its strains are melancholy, yet full of rest and peace. Its echoes linger in the heart long after its tones have ceased to vibrate in the air.
The origin of the word "Taps" is thought to have come from the Dutch word for "Tattoo"- "Taptoe." More than likely, "Taps" comes from the the three drum taps that were played as a signal for "Extinguish Lights" when a bugle was not used. As with many other customs, the twenty-four notes that comprise this solemn tradition began long ago and continue to this day.
While there are no official lyrics for Taps, the following unofficial verse (author unknown) is often used:

Fading light dims the sight, And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright. From afar drawing nigh -- Falls the night. Day is done, gone the sun, From the lake, from the hills, from the sky; All is well, safely rest, God is nigh. Then good night, peaceful night, Till the light of the dawn shineth bright; God is near, do not fear -- Friend, good night.

We Remember Them

I ran across this poem as I am preparing for out upcoming Memorial Day. I choose to remember our loved who gave so much for our freedom. The light of their lives still shine on.

A Litany of Remembrance Roland B. Gittelsohn In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, We remember them. In the opening buds and in the rebirth of spring, We remember them. In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer, We remember them. In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn, We remember them. In the beginning of the year and when it ends, We remember them. When we are weary and in need of strength, We remember them. When we are lost and are sick of heart, We remember them. When we have Joys we yearn to share, We remember them. So long as we live, they too shall live, For they are now a part of us, As we remember them.

A Decade of Anguish Ends with Death of Osama Bin Laden

The events of September 11, 2001 forever changed my family.  I remember my son, Heath, coming from home school and stating he was going to fight for his country. Upon his graduation in 2005, he left to become a Marine and was KIA on 11/22/06 by an IED in the Al Anbar Province of Iraq. Since then, I have spent the last ten years of my life in some form of anguish.  I never thought I would hear Osama Bin Laden was captured and dead.

Late Sunday night my youngest son came into our family room and stated matter of factly that Osama Bin Laden had been killed. My first reaction was one of disbelief and I told him not to joke about something as important as that. He said it was on the news. Before I even turned the news on I received a tweet from Heath's girlfriend thanking us for Heath's sacrifice and for being part of history to bring this day to pass. I immediately went to my social media sites to see what had happened.

I have to admit I found myself overwhelmed in the moment. I could not process the emotions I felt -profound pride, deep sadness, disbelief and tears. It was as if I was hit by a tsunami of emotions of everything I had experienced since the events of 9/11. I guess deep within I struggled with the fact was my son's death in vain and over the last five years my personal life imploded as grief and depression exploded.

Osama Bin Laden's death has confirmed once and for all, my son's death was not in vain.  Our country stood strong, firm in our commitment to pursue the fight for freedom and to bring justice to those who terrorize our world. It took ten long years of anguish for those of us who actually understood by our personal pain the high cost of freedom – the blood, sweat and tears of our loved ones.  I am so proud of our special forces, troops, our country and most importantly my son Heath. To those of you who went about as business as usual taking for granted our suffering and now celebrate in this victory, all I can say to you is...God Bless America!

Westboro church protests amount to hate speech, even hate crimes

Read my guest editorial in the Canton Repository. Please pass along to other papers in your community. God Bless, Scott Warner

 Westboro church protests amount to hate speech, even hate crimes