I have written here before about “Lizard People.” It is just my short hand way of referencing people who are not like most humans. They are people who seemingly have no soul, experience no guilt, shame, or remorse, and who view other people the way they might view insects or slugs. Certainly the Lizard People are driven by narcissism but there is more than just narcissism here. They are also psychopaths and the very worse of them are this way because of their religious beliefs.

In my reading I came across one of the Lizard People from the 18th century. Meet the Duc d’Orleans. Phillippe d’Orleans was one of the wealthiest men in France and was the cousin of King Louis XVI. d’Orleans was one of the guiding actors behind the dethronement and beheading of his cousin and his cousin’s wife, the Queen.

d’Orleans also had a sister-in-law whom he hated named the Princesse d’ Lambelle, who was one of Queen Marie Antoinette’s ladies. d’Orleans hated d’Lambelle because she had rebuked him for his role in the “March of Versailles” — an earlier attempt to murder the crown family. Rumors also swirled that d’Orleans would financially gain the d’Lambelle’s dowry if she would die.

d’Orleans thus paid assassins in the mob to murder d’Lambelle and then gave it the color of law by having her condemned to death for not taking an oath to hate the recently seized King and Queen.

However, we are still not in Lizard People territory yet. Where d’Orleans is seen as a Lizard came in an incident following the murder and decapitation of d’Lambelle. Upon the deed being done and after the mob had taken the decapitated and piked head of d’Lambelle to a salon to get her hair right again the mob marched the piked head before the veranda of the Duc d’Orleans.

Here we allow Nesta Webster to describe the Lizard Person quality of Phillippe d’Orleans.

“The Duc d’Orleans was just sitting down to dinner with his
mistress, Madame Buffon, and several Englishmen, when the
savage howls of triumph that heralded this arrival (of the piked head of d’Lambelle) attracted his attention. Walking to the window he looked out calmly on scene, contemplated with a perfectly unmoved countenance the dead, white face, the fair curls fluttering round the pike-head. The Duke of Orléans reportedly commented ‘Oh, it is Lamballe’s head: I know it by the long hair. Let us sit down to supper’,”

This is Lizard People status. No conscience. No remorse. No guilt. No shame.

It is just these same kind of elites that we are dealing with today. Like the Duc d’Orleans they have no souls. They perpetuate the basest of cruelties upon others and without blinking they sit down to enjoy their meals. You must realize that these are the kinds of people we are dealing with when we deal with the Corporatists, the Politicians at high levels, the Silicon Valley Billionaires, and the K-Street and Wall Street movers and shakers. You can not expect these people to be like you. They are not. They are Lizard People. They don’t have your manners, your morals, or your reservations. They are not like you. That is who we are dealing with as those behind the on the street Revolutionaries.

Do you really think people like Hillary Clinton, Bill and Melinda Gates, Barack Obama, Anthony Fauci, George Soros, Mark Zuckerberg, Ben Sasse, Larry Ellison, etc. are any different than the duc d’Orleans? These people have always existed and our challenge is to realize that there exists a whole class of soul-less people at war with “legacy Americans,” and in realizing that give them no quarter when the time comes.

Postscript — Philippe d’Orleans was one of those rare cases where one of the Lizard people met with poetic justice. Usually these people die at 95 in their beds screaming because they know that their deeds are finally going to catch up with them. Not so, d’Orleans. At 46 years of age d’Orleans visited the Parisian guillotine on 6 November, 1793 for crimes which no evidence was ever provided.

Be sure your sins will find you out.

Hollywood’s bent towards Communism from its very inception forward has given us, through the decades, film after film expressing anti-Nazi themes. And who could ever protest exposing Nazi evils? However, even in the last decade Hollywood continues to pour forth films marching the Nazi’s before us with one of the most recent ones being “Jojo Rabbit.” I’d wager to bet that every reader can rip off the top of their heads at least five films where the Nazis were villains.

Not only have there been the ubiquitous “we hate Nazis” films but there have also been the “those poor Communists” films. Films like, “Trumbo,” and “The Majestic,” work to the end of making the audience feel sorry for the Marxists. It is twisted history at its finest. This is not even to mention the rabidly pro-communist films that Hollywood spit out during WW II. Films like “Mission to Moscow,” and “The North Star,” “The Battle for Russia,” and many more were all films that were Soviet propaganda made by Americans to the end of having Americans sympathize with the blood thirsty Communists. Can you, dear Reader, rip off the top of your heads at least 5 films where the Communists were villains?

The reason this phenomenon remains the case is that Hollywood remains largely pro-Marxist in its sympathies. Books like, “An Empire of their Own,” demonstrate this reality. We can only conclude that the same Hollywood tribe who made their sufferings in the holocaust well known worked overtime making sure that the sufferings of others in the Ukrainian Christian holdomor were muted.

However, recently, there seems to have developed a disturbance in Hollywood’s dark side of the force. In the last 3 years a couple films have been released that not only indicts the monstrous regime that was the USSR, but also pictures those sympathetic to Communism in an unflattering light.

In 2017 the film “Bitter Harvest” was released. Though it will never be considered an “A-list” film, it remains a quality release. The story centers on a young Ukrainian couple who are star struck with each other from the tenderest of ages. Eventually they marry, but hardship drives them apart. The film tells their story of childhood in grain rich Ukraine, of their coming of age in Bolshevik occupied Ukraine, of their separation because of the heavy hand of the Bolsheviks in Ukraine, and of their reunion, all as seasoned with Yuri and Natalka’s other family and friends surrounding them as those supporting roles fill out the characters of Yuri and Natalka as well as their relationship. All of this romantic drama as set in the larger context of the 1932 Soviet occupation of Ukraine and the subsequent Ukrainian Holodomor.

At this point it would be tempting to rush ahead with the film story, but I’m not sure the average reader even knows what this thing called the holodomor is. Hollywood as taught you relentlessly what the “Holocaust” was with films like “Schindler’s List,” “The Pianist,” and “Inglorious Bastards,” but it has been largely silent on the Holodomor.

The Holodomor was the political starvation of the Christian Ukrainian people starting in 1929 as ordered by Soviet Premier, Joseph Stalin and as carried out by his Jewish Bolsheviks which resulted in the cruel death by starvation of the Ukrainian people in the vicinity of 15 million of people. This number dwarfs the number of losses in the Hollywood approved “Holocaust,” and yet you, dear reader, likely know very little to nothing about it. For people interested in reading about this politically incorrect attempt at genocide one should read Robert Conquest’s “Harvest of Sorrow.”

“Bitter Harvest” thus is set in this context. As such, in telling Yuir and Natalka’s story the film gives us a glimpse of the horrors of the holodomor. In the film we are introduced to the Bolshevik Commissars in Yuir and Natalka’s village who treated Ukrainian life then the way that unborn babies are treated today. These Bolsheviks oppressed, persecuted and murdered the Ukrainian people as they fulfilled Stalin’s orders by seizing the grain leaving the Ukrainian people starving. As such the film “Bitter Harvest” exposes the wickedness that exceeded the “Holocaust” by a qauntam factor.


In the course of “Bitter Harvest,” the curtain is pulled back just a little on the evils of Communism. We see the reality of prisons for those Ukrainian Nationalists who wouldn’t bend to Stalin. We see daily mass executions in Soviet prisons. We witness the casual cruelty of Communist true believers. We see the local Communist Commissar use the promise of food to seduce and attempt to rape the starving Natalka. We see the censoring of art and pressing in of thought control. (What today we call “political correctness.”) We see the futile attempt of the Ukrainians to rise against their Communist Masters. Finally, “Bitter Harvest,” reveals what Communism best produces, and that is people seeking to flee to freedom.

As I said, it is not an “A” list film but it is a quality film worthy of viewing if only because it begins to pull back the curtain on the holodomor for American grazers who learn their history through film. For whatever it is worth, you should give “Bitter Harvest” a view.

In a film released in 2019 that is an “A” list film that also deals with the holodomor is “Mr. Jones.” As much as I rejoiced over “Bitter Harvest” I exulted in the release of “Mr. Jones,” if only because more light was being cast upon the holodomor.

“Mr Jones,” tells the story of the young educated Englishman, Gareth Jones, who had both the courage to find out for himself the truth about the ongoing holodomor by visiting the Ukraine himself, and then by withstanding the onslaught on his character because he violated the politically correct narrative of his time as supported by journalist and political elites.

I stumbled across and first learned of Jones about 15 years ago upon reading S. J. Taylor’s “Stalin’s Apologist.” This book is a biography on Walter Duranty, who serves as the devotee to the lie in the film “Mr. Jones” to Gareth Jones advocacy of the truth. In brief Duranty and Jones are foils to one another in the film. This contest between Duranty and Jones thus frames the film as the theme of the film is truth vs. lies. Early in the film, Jones is discussing “truth” with the leading female (Vanessa Kirby) of the film and Jones insists that he is looking for the truth regarding the Ukraine. Kirby character Ada Brooks responds by asking “whose truth?,” and then only a little later in the face of Jones’ protestations about true truth, responds by chiding Jones that his view on truth is “a little naive isn’t it?” The theme of the film is then anchored at the end of the film as Ada phones and leaves a message for Jones saying, “tell Gareth he was right about truth.” Between those two conversations we see Gareth Jones, in the film, as against all odds, being a champion of truth. He champions truth before his employer MP David Lloyd George and his staff, he champions truth with his foil Walter Duranty, he champions truth in his bylines that are printed in the London Times. “Mr Jones” portrays Gareth Jones as a early incarnation of Solzhenitsyn’s maxim, “Live not by lies.”

The truth of the holodomor in the Ukraine pursued by Stalin was being suppressed everywhere in the West since, like Hollywood in the introductory paragraphs of this column, Journalist and Newspapers were being run largely by those with a political and kinship interest to keep the holodomor buried. Not only was the story buried by journalists but chaps like Walter Duranty (London’s “Man in Moscow”) also wrote complete fabrications and lies about the genocide that was the holodomor. Duranty was so good at his circumlocutions and prevarications that he was awarded a 1932 Pulitzer prize in Journalism for his lies touching the Ukraine. This is what Jones (and Malcolm Muggeridge) were facing in writing in contradiction of Duranty’s Pulitzer. Duranty’s writing was so distorted that Muggeridge later spoke of him as “the greatest liar I ever knew.” One can easily see how Duranty proves the excellent foil for a film that emphasizes that true truth exists. Keep in mind here that Duranty’s correspondent releases from Moscow to the New York Times at this time shaped American policy causing many to conclude that Duranty’s lies led to the US, under FDR, to diplomatically recognize the Soviet Union. Yet the film “Mr. Jones” leads the viewer to conclude, despite the whole web of lies spun by Duranty, the New York Times, and Sydney and Beatrice Webb, Gareth Jones’ “One word of truth outweighed the world.” It really is inspirational.

In the context of this war between the lie and the truth we are given insight of the holodomor in “Mr. Jones.” The film doesn’t go all in on showing the barbarity and cruelty of the holdomor. It instead takes a more subtle approach to exposing the sadness. It shows people dumpster diving for Jones’ orange peel that he casually tosses away into a coal container. It shows children hauntingly singing a child’s song about Stalin playing a tune on a fiddle leading to the death of the Ukraine by the seizure of their grain. Stalin’s tune led to madness of Fathers and Mothers having to watch their children die. Stalin’s tune led to hunger and cold. The film shows the death squad out collecting bodies tossing a wailing orphan on top of the dead bodies knowing that the orphan himself isn’t long for the world since his mother was one of the dead collected. The film subtly reveals to the viewer cannibalism. The film demonstrates Jones himself seeking to eat bark in order to survive.

Throughout all this the cruelty of Stalin and the Bolshevik Commissars is put on display. Yet, as I said earlier all this is done with comparative subtlety. One feels the impact of the starvation but isn’t overwhelmed by it. (Showing the reality would turn the film into a horror film.)

The technique of the Director is to film in somber colors to communicate the colorlessness of life in communism. The lighting is dimmed so that one feels, as they view the movie, that they are in some sort of place where the illicit is occurring.

Interestingly and cleverly enough food is a sub-theme of the film. Conversations over meals serve as both contradiction to the famine occurring in Ukraine and as irony that the Soviet apparatchiks are feasting while others are eating straw soup and are cannibalizing. The West also comes in for some derision here as a couple of scenes, once Jones returns home, shows the abundance of food in the West.

One final wildcard weaves its way through the film and that is the presence of George Orwell as working on his “Animal Farm.” Orwell becomes the final judge over the contest of truth vs. lie, of Jones vs. Duranty. Orwell is a man who desires to believe in all that the Bolshevik Revolution stood for in the minds of the Utopians yet still connected enough to reality to be able to believe that it might well all be a lie. In the end Jones convinces Orwell that “Stalin is not the man you believe him to be.” It is clear that Orwell is convinced by Jones and yet is deeply saddened that he has been convinced. “Animal Farm” in this film is the result of Orwell’s sad convincing.

“Mr. Jones” ends with displaying to the viewer the price that Jones had to pay for telling the truth. Perhaps the films most disappointing moment is when Jones is vindicated. I would say that is the most disappointing moment of the film because it simply is the case that those carrying the truth are not typically often vindicated in their lifetime. I am convinced that most often they are not.

See the film … if you enjoy a film with plot and character development you won’t be disappointed.

“Modern, wimpy, soft-spoken Reformed pastors will keep talking about ‘loving your neighbor’ and pretending that the government isn’t already commanding us to sin.

They don’t care about the old people dying of isolation, the mental anguish families are going through being separated from their loved ones, or little babies like this one who now is without a mother if it survives at all. They don’t care about people who have lost their family businesses — forever. They have NEVER cared to talk about the debt-based economy that’s precipitously close to collapsing on many millions of Christian families. They’re not talking about government indoctrination centers turning our kids into communists who are burning our cities every night.

No. They’ll preach five more sermons on Grace, wear their pleated khakis, grow a beard and pretend to deserve the respect that Reformed Pastors of old could command.

The modern church is anathema. Ichabod.“

Mrs. Emily Forte

I think it is well past time that we admit that the “Conservative” Reformed Church in America is a bust. We needs admit that the Reformed Clergy in America bears as much relation to John Calvin, John Knox, and Huldrych Zwingli as our modern soy boy males bear relation to Charles Martel, John Sobieski, or Godfrey of Bouillon.

Part of where that lack shows itself is in the pulpit. As Emily rightly points out the prototypical contemporary conservative Reformed clergy sermons have become reductionistic and irrelevant. We have reduced Jesus to the chorus of a Beatles song. We talk about a Jesus disconnected to the living of the people God has given us to serve and then we justify that disconnection by reciting the bald and explicit teaching by our wise-men in our Seminaries that God doesn’t speak an inscripturated Revelational Word about the public lives of God’s people. Our Clergy are insensate and can provide no direction to God’s people on the issues of our times — such as the ongoing attempted genocide of the White Christian people — because the modern conservative Clergy have been taught to believe that our physical corporeal lives don’t really matter because the realities those lives occupy are realities that won’t cross over to the New Jerusalem anyway. Christian families don’t exist now and won’t exist in the new Jerusalem we are told by Reformed Ph.d.’s. Christian civilization doesn’t exist now, can’t exist, never has existed, and won’t exist in the New Jerusalem we are told by the chaps with terminal degrees teaching your next Pastor right now. The same goes for any idea of Christian culture. You’re next Pastor is being trained right now that the idea of Christian culture is a myth… and that in “Conservative Seminaries” across the nation. Is it any wonder then that your minister knows nothing about how debt based economies are a violation of the 8th commandment? Is it any wonder that your Pastor Lovejoy thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to put his own children (as well as yours) in Government indoctrination centers to be catechized into a false faith? Our clergy are stupid and they have been trained to think that God loves stupid.

And all this above… and all that Emily rightly noted is dismissed by our enemy Seminary wisemen by saying, “Well, your people can get instruction on those issues outside the Church by competing worldview Christian sources and organizations. We (the Church) have to spend our time with more important things like the Gospel.” In this one clever move the Gospel has been divorced from Christianity. The Clergy want to be Gospel oriented, and Gospel Intentional (all the rage buzz-phrases today) but they want that as it is divorced from Christianity as the total Weltanschauung. Now these types will immediately protest that they don’t believe in Weltanschauung (World and life view) but all that tells me is that their Weltanschauung doesn’t allow them to believe in muscular and totalistic Christianity. They want the Pietistic Christianity where one gets saved, becomes an ever increasingly nicer person who fits into the expectations of their cultural surroundings with a pinch of abstract Jesus perfuming all they do.

These types have won the day in the modern “conservative” “Reformed” “Church.” They have done so because there is just a smattering of truth to what they say. That truth is found in the reality that too often it really is the case that the Reformed Church has indeed concentrated on a kind of therapeutic deistic morality disconnected from the living and resurrected Jesus Christ. We have not connected our morality enough to the office of Jesus Christ as our “eternal King who governs us by His Word and Spirit.” When we speak of properly disobeying Tyrants we should connect it with Christ’s office of our great High King. When we speak of not sending God’s covenant seed to be Humanist and Statist schools we should connect that statement that Christ, as our Great High Priest, was put to death for such sins and that as God’s Holy and Elect we should not want to sin by putting the children of God in the schools of Canaan. We need to do a better job in connecting the totality of Christianity with the Gospel of Jesus Christ as Prophet, Priest, and King. By doing so we reveal that it is the Reductionistic Gospelers who have perverted the Gospel of Jesus Christ and not those of us who want all of Christianity and not this Gnostic dualistic Christianity that is now offered up so routinely in our Reformed R2K Churches.

Those who desire a “Gospel-centered” Church to the neglect of a Christian Church are those who desire the seed of Christianity but insist they have no interest in bark, flower, leaf, fruit or branch, twig, stem, and shoot of Christianity. They desire a message that,

1.) God is big and Holy
2.) Man is small and sinful
3.) Christ provides a way for sinful man to come to a Holy God

And that is where they want to stop. Oh, they may include some instruction on how to be a “nice” person but they refuse to describe what the Christian life looks like in the public square. They refuse to talk about Christian culture or civilization. (Remember, those things are not possible). Where they are consistent they would refuse to bring to heel any civil Magistrate for any action except possibly the forbidding of worship. For these types Christianity is all purr and no bite.

Our enemy “Gospel-Centered” Christianity responds by insisting that “we can’t allow Biblical Christianity into the pulpit. After all, no minister can be so trained as to be an expert in all these varying fields. Pastors need to become experts in the Gospel and leave the other issues to the experts in their respective fields. We don’t want Lawyers or Teachers or Anthropologists trying to be experts in the Gospel and so we shouldn’t try to be experts in those fields.” Never mind that this attitude belies the reality that all truth is organic and inter-related so that a firm understanding on Biblical Christianity does indeed give one the ability to speak to the theology driving all these different fields. As a minister, I don’t need a degree in Cultural Anthropology to identify the evolutionary presuppositions that are driving Cultural Anthropology. As a minister, I don’t need a degree in Sociology to know that Emile Durkheim was selling a Sociology that allowed for sociological and cultural relativism. As a minister I don’t need a degree in Keynesian Economics to know that debt based economies violate the Eight commandment. I don’t need a degree in history (though I have one) to be able to warn God’s people against post-modern historians who insist that objective truth doesn’t exist. I don’t need a degree in Philosophy (though I have one) to identify that the Cartesian “cogito” foundationalism is an anti-Christ epistemology. I don’t need a degree in Political Science (though I have one) to tell God’s people not to vote for politicians who embrace a political theory that presupposes that God does not exist (Marxism). The excuse that ministers can’t be expert enough to speak to different fields God’s “Thus sayeth the Lord” is errant and filthy thinking. It can be done.

So, we have to admit that this “Reformed Christianity” is a different Reformed Christianity than that which Emily is expecting. This “Gospel Centered Christianity” is not the Christianity of our Reformed forefathers who put the fear of God in Kings and Queens who ruled in defiance of the God of the Bible. This “Gospel-Oriented” Christianity is not the Christianity of Jenny Geddes though I’d love to join Jenny in throwing a few stools at its representatives on a Sunday Morning. This Klinean Calvinism is for eunuchs, cowards, and the milquetoast. If this was the type of Calvinism that had been born at Geneva the whole world would have either been conquered by Servetus or been reconquered by the counter-Reformation of the Roman Catholics.

Now before we start this entry it needs to be remembered that I have already admitted that I was not the model student while at Marion College. Nothing written hereafter can be understood apart from that stipulation. Indeed, I was not only not the model student, I probably had no business being in college at 18 years of age. At 18 I was ready for college the way that a eunuch is ready for his honeymoon night. As such my recollections are colored by that given. At 18 I was the kind of student who envied John “Bluto” Blutarsky (he of Animal House fame) for his study habits and academic diligence.

Of course when you arrived on campus one was immediately assigned a room-mate at Williams Hall. Dear sweet Williams Hall. It has now been retired and torn down but when I attended it was my residence for approximately 2 years during my 4.5 years of existence at Marion College. Williams Hall in 1977 – 1979 was one large building filled with competing male testosterone. Indeed, the African Serengeti had nothing on Williams Hall in terms of exotic male animal life. The third floor, (where I roomed) being the farthest point away from the Zookeepers apartment on the first floor, was where the wildest of the wildlife inhabited. There was even a rumor at one time that Marlin Perkins was going to film an episode of his famous “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” at Williams Hall.

“Note the Marion College male in his own habitat. Elusive, untamed, designing.”

My roommate my first year could not have been more polar opposite than me and to this day some 43 years later I genuinely feel sorry that Tim had to have me as a roommate for a semester. Tim was a quality upperclassman music major who had everything going for him except his roommate. Whatever genius in the Administration who put us together had been watching to many episodes of “The Odd Couple.” I played the role of Oscar; A slovenly, recently paroled 18 year old who was convinced that “Life was a highway, I want to ride it all night long,” and Tim played the role of Felix; A fastidious, well bred, serious student. It just wasn’t possible that it would work out. Tim, rightly, dumped me in the Second semester moving in with the Resident Assistant next door. Consequently, I was the only guy on the third floor with a room all to myself. Slovenliness does have its perks after all.

Third floor on Williams Hall started every morning with one of the Baseball players (Randy — The Resident Assistant’s Bunky) routinely taking his baseball bat to varied and sundry doors on the floor so as to provide the courtesy of being a kind of “Babe Ruth” alarm clock for the inhabitants. 0730 would roll around and the mighty Babe was making a racket as against those metal doors that would have awaken the very dead. This was Randy’s shtick and boy howdy did he enjoy it. By the end of the year sundry doors on the third floor were left with sundry quarter size dents in those doors.

Understanding that “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” and having a baseball bat of my own, I decided to try my hand at Randy’s routine but alas I was no match for the great Babe Ruth and so gave it up after only a couple times in the batting cage. Now an odd thing happened on the way to the ballpark in regards to all this. At years end, the powers that be came in and examined the doors on the third floor — doubtless having heard the rumor that Babe Ruth had stalked the third floor of Williams Hall — and somehow, quite without interviewing me or asking any questions, I was the one who was billed for the various dented doors. Here Randy was the master and I the apprentice, who had only tried my hands a couple times at “good-morning door bashing,” and I had to cough up several hundred dollars to replace doors that were never replaced the whole four years I attended Marion College. Life can be funny that way.

William’s Hall. It was not unusual to find the guys on the second floor shooting bottle rockets out of their windows aiming for people as they sauntered to class. There is nothing like a bottle rocket whizzing past your ears to get the proper amount of adrenaline running for your 1pm exam.

William’s Hall. More than once I had to navigate the third floor with a compass because the smoke from the Doobies was so thick I couldn’t see. It was in Williams Hall I learned what the smell of Marijuana smelled like. Eventually, I became so skilled that I could even distinguish the various types of weed being smoked. Maui Gold was my favorite. (And No gang… it wasn’t me blowing smoke rings.)

William’s Hall. Where they had to lift the curfew because they finally realized that they could not out maneuver all the schemes the chaps could come up with for beating the curfew. I saw guys on the 2nd floor lowering down belts and rope to their friends at 0200 so that they could pull their buddies up so as to crawl through the windows.

William’s Hall. Where one morning we exited the foyer to go to class only to find a sub-compact car sitting squarely in the foyer as if it were a display vehicle at a Car dealership. I always did wonder how they got that car in there.

William’s Hall. Where the chief of the Marion Fire Department awakened the whole dorm one morning at 0300 in order to say in a not kindly voice, “I don’t care if your the damn Governor’s son, I’m going to nail your ass to the wall when I find out who placed smoke bombs in the Girls dorm and set them off.” What the Chief didn’t know is that there was a chap on the third floor who shared the then current Indiana’s Governor’s last name. Upon the Chiefs declaration cries of “Bowen you’re in trouble,” began to cascade through the throng of gathered students. The Chief briefly believed he had found the guilty party only to find out later that our own John Bowen was not related to the Governor nor related to the smoke bombs. (Actually they were smudge pots… but the Chief was in no mood to be corrected at 0300.) And “no” I had nothing to do with the smudge pots that found the Shatford Hall girls having to exit their dorm at 0200 in the morning and stand around outside in their evening clothes until the “all clear” sign was given by the Marion Fire Department.) I will say this though; to this day I’ve never seen so many Fire Engines gathered at one locale at the same time. At first glance, given the Fire Engines already present and the ones continuing to roll in, I thought the campus was burning down.

William’s Hall. Where the 2nd floor TV room was cleared so a good old fashion boxing match could take place between a 25 year old Englishmen student named Bernie vs. some 18 year old idiot who had never before worn a pair of boxing gloves in his life. It went three, three minute rounds with the 18 year old idiot leaving a significant black and blue eye on Bernie while himself walking away without a glove being laid on him.

William’s Hall. Though never intended to be a co-ed dorm could fool people from time to time.

And, these are only some of the milder accounts of my William’s Hall memories.

Now some will deny these things happened, but I was there and I’m here to tell you that these things and more happened and they should be remembered and noted for a milestone 100 year anniversary.

So, Happy Anniversary Indiana Wesleyan University and thanks for allowing me to add my memories to your fine shiny commemorative catalog you sent me.

Next entry: Meet the Profs.