Marshall Ramsey

In honor of December 7th and the sacrifices made by all those who were there that horrible day, I’ve reposted a story from my book Fried Chicken & Wine. As time now does what the Japanese couldn’t, God bless all those who are slipping silently into the night. 

A light mist shrouded Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.  The normally bright blue water was more of a dull gray, matching the U.S. Navy ships that slipped in and out of its protected waters.  A black Lincoln Towncar slowly pulled up to the battleship and stopped.  The driver got out, walked around to the passenger side rear door and opened it. A shaky foot emerged.

Capt. John Franklin, U.S. Navy (Ret.), slowly got out of the car and looked up at the mighty ship.  His eyes immediately began to water as tears and memories flooded forth.  The driver popped the trunk, got out a walker and helped the old man to his feet.  The driver paused, saluted and waited by the car.  Capt. Franklin slowly made his way to the gangplank.

As he pushed the walker up the walkway he noticed a strange thing beginning to happen: His legs were getting stronger.  About halfway up, he threw the walker aside, “I hated the dam’ thing anyway,” the old sailor growled.  He paused, looked up at the mighty guns and the colorful flags.  The fog swirled around the superstructure and the steel guns.  He continued on his journey.

He got to the top and took a deep breath. The smell of fresh paint, oil and wood tickled his senses, unleashing memories he had not thought about in 70 years.  He stuck out his chest and said, “Capt. Franklin reporting for duty. Permission to come aboard?”  The faceless officer said, “Permission granted, sir.”

Captain John Franklin walked to aft of the ship and approached a 5-inch gun. He put his hand on the warm steel, climbed a ladder and sat inside.  He was now manning his position on the U.S.S. Arizona. He had rejoined his shipmates who had perished 70 years ago while he was ashore on leave.  Smiling, he waved at the driver on the dock below.  The driver saluted back and drove away.

The Captain was home.  He looked out at the shore and everything looked just like it had early on the morning of December 7, 1941.  Suddenly the sun broke through the mist at Pearl Harbor. And when the sunbeam hit the ghost battleship, it disappeared.

At that moment, alarms went off in room BB39 of the Naval hospital.  ”We’re losing him!” the nurse screamed.  A team of nurses and doctors scrambled like ants and tried to save him but with no luck.  Captain John Franklin, U.S. Navy (Ret.), survivor of the day that will live in infamy,  faded into history.

I hope you’ve had a chance to catch my “new” radio show Now You’re Talking With Marshall Ramsey on Mississippi Public Broadcasting Think Radio and airs on Monday’s at 10 a.m.  I love it — partly because I work with a fantastic producer named Cherita Brent and the amazing Mississippians I’m allowed to interview each week. (If you’ve missed it, you can listen to it online by clicking on this link. )

I originally pitched the idea for the show because I believe in Mississippians. I know so many who’ve done amazing things — world-class things — and overcome some pretty steep obstacles while achieving them.  But they’ve done it with a smile on their face and love in their hearts. They had a dream and pursued it.  And I feel like that they need to be given the spotlight.  I want you to listen  and think. “I can do that, too.”

So after five months, I’ve discovered a few golden threads running through my guests.

1. They have a strong influence in their life early on — usually an amazing mom.  Wyatt and Joel Waters have an amazing mom. So did Coach Antonio Wright. Keith Thibodeaux had the love of his family in Lousiana to keep him grounded during his time in Hollywood. Whitney Miller still bumps elbows with her mom in the kitchen.  Kimberly Morgan and Kennitra Thompson’s family supported their pageant dreams.  Paul Lacoste has a very strong family and the love of a lost brother burns inside him to this day. Mac McAnally’s mom made sure he took piano lessons and was surrounded by music. A strong support system counts when you are pursing a dream.

2. My guests saw a need bigger than themselves and pursued it. Paul Lacoste saw an obesity crisis in his beloved home state and vowed to fix it one legislator and teacher at a time. Dr. Bev Smallwood saw a need to heal others after her own personal crisis. Christy Henderson took her newfound love of riding horses and started a way to help kids with physical and mental challenges.  Christy Dunaway took her “handicap” and made it an advantage by helping others overcome their disabilities.  True success comes when you help others get what they need.

3. My guests have amazing faith.  I’ve heard story after story from my guests where they’ve beaten the odds because of the powerful belief in their hearts. Regenia Sulton, Jean Jones, and Paul Ott all beat breast cancer (and complications from surgery). And all talked how their faith in God got them through the crisis. Kennitra Thompson, recent Miss Mississippi contestant and Stevens Johnson Syndrome survivor, not only beat the odds of survival but has gone on inspire others. Joel Waters survived third-degree burns and now inspires people with his faith on a daily basis. Keith Thibodeaux talks about how being born again literally saved his life from drugs and depression. Faith is the rock their dreams are built on.

4. My guests love what they do.  Rick Cleveland, Matthew Guinn and Jerry Mitchell bring the world to life with their amazing ability to write. Chris Gill’s love of music allowed him to overcome a brutal car crash and its debilitating effects. Whitney Miller travels the world cooking. Dr. Bev Smallwood’s passion glows when she’s on stage speaking and helping others. Grady Champion’s passion is intoxicating and has driven him to the top of the Blues world.  When you’re passionate about what you do, it makes hard work seem like play. 

5. My guests have a positive attitude. Antonio Wright went from promising athlete back to promising athlete. He inspires others from his wheel chair. Joel Waters’ faith lifts those around him. Paul Lacoste’s enthusiasm for fitness is hard to escape. Kennitra Thompson inspires.  Adjutant General of Mississippi Leon Collins has risen through the ranks because his attitude inspires his troops. A positive attitude is like bacon. It makes everything better.

When the “On Air” light goes off every Monday, I shake my guest’s hand and thank them for coming in. And then I’m darn thankful I’ve met them. The hour I spend with them changes me. It makes me want to be a better man. And getting to know them a little bit better gives me a template for true success.

Bonus Question: What do you think is the key to success?

A father and son sat bathed in the glow of a large fake Christmas tree. It’s white lights bathed them quietly in its warmth.  The little boy broke the silence and began to speak.

“You know that if you do the math, there’s no way Santa can visit EVERY house around the world in 24 hours.”

Gibson looked at his son Davis and shook his head.  The kid was six going on 46.

“There are a lot of naughty kids, Davis. It cuts Santa’s workload considerably.”

Davis bought his dad’s explanation and went back to playing ZombieAttack on his dad’s phone.

But Gibson knew that his son probably would Google it later tonight. The Internet had sped up the death of innocence. His son could now be exposed to things he never knew about until he had joined the Navy. His kid could learn in three simple keystrokes what it took him three cruises on the U.S.S. Nimitz to learn.

Then his son dropped the big one:

“Is Santa real?”

Gibson remembered when he had asked his father that question. Of course, Gibson had been 16, not six.

“Do you want him to be real?” Gibson asked in his best lawyerly dodge.

“Yeah.”

“Then he’s real.  If you believe, you’ll receive.”

Davis sat silently, trying to wrap his mind around his father’s answer.  He wanted to believe in Santa and didn’t care what Jenny Franklin said.

Silence quickly returned and the Father and son stared at the tree. Gibson remembered lying on his parent’s living room couch and staring at their Scotch pine tree. It had red bulbs that burned as hot as the sun.  How the house didn’t burn down was nothing short of a Christmas Miracle. Back then, it took forever for Christmas to arrive. But then again, Christmas vacation had lasted much longer then.  Now he worked all the time. And that made time speed by as fast as Santa’s reindeer. College had been when he noticed time starting to fly. Now it was supersonic.

Davis grabbed a handful of sand dabs and drank some milk. Powered sugar ringed his mouth. Eating sand dab cookies was a Christmas tradition passed along from his grandparents.

Gibson’s grandparents. Gibson remembered waiting for them to arrive from Texas. He’d fall asleep on the den floor, hoping that would cause time to speed up so they’d get there a little bit quicker.

Time did speed up. And then it ran out.

“Dad, what do you want from Santa?”

“Socks from my grandparents, hand delivered.”

Davis patted his dad’s back. “Santa’s good. But I’m not sure he’s that good. Hey, you know that Rudolph’s on TV. Let’s go watch it together. I hear Hermie wants to be a dentist and and Bumbles bounce.”

Rudolph. At least some things never changed.

Gibson picked his son up and carried him into the family room to watch TV. As they watched the Rankin Bass classic, time ground to a halt.

And for Gibson, that was the finest Christmas gift of all.