12 Lessons from a Tractor Hay Baler Fire

Putting out a tractor hay fire on traffic safety duty at St. Peter the Apostle Roman Catholic in Libertytown on October 2, 2021 taught me many civil defense lessons I would like to share.

Note: My photos are all after the fire. I was too busy putting it out to take photos of the actual fire or my fire suppression methods described below.

1. Disasters Occur at the Most Unexpected Times

As a traffic crossing guard at St. Pete's helping keep children and moms safe from huge trucks and careless drivers, I have had some scares. 

Once, a guy with Florida tags thought I should get out of the way. 

Despite me having a large STOP sign over my head and a flag indicating to wait, he gunned his car and drove right past me. He just avoided missing the children and moms and my toes. 

And just yesterday after the 5 pm Mass as I was saying to a lone straggler, "Today is the Feast of your Guardian Angel! Make sure you pray to your Guardian Angel today! I heard a loud scream "FIRE!!! FIRE!!! DOES ANYONE HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?!!!"

2. Have Your Emergency Items BEFORE the Event

I turned quickly to see a woman stepping out of a HUGE hay baler that took up 2 lanes of Route 75 (Green Valley Road). 

This Route runs right by St. Pete's and lots of trucks transit it from the nearby cement quarries and farms. As parishioners from St. Pete's park across Route 75 and must walk across it to get to church, we have a small brigade of crossing guards for all the Masses to ensure their safety.

She was yelling for a fire extinguisher as she opened the large plexiglass door and down the multiple steps from her driver enclosure in the air and to the ground. 

I confirmed with my eyes that she was not hurt and was now walking away from the fire. Given the size of the tractor and baler, it struck me as odd that she did not have a fire extinguisher on the inside driver cabin of the tractor, but if she was screaming for one, that was the case.

Behind her I saw flickering flames dancing on the top of the hay. Worse, there was light gray smoke billowing out of all the baler. It struck me that this hay was to about engage. That meant the huge engine, large gas tank, and 12 tires would go as well.

I ran about 30 yards to where she was to confirm she was OK and to size up the traffic and the state of the drivers trying to exit the church parking lot. I also wanted to see how much traffic was building in the cross section. St. Pete's is right off Route 26 and subject to heavy traffic.

3. People Freeze in any Disaster and Need Guidance

One large truck was blocking the intersection. He had stopped when he saw the baler on fire. I decided he had to drive on if the fire equipment was to be able to get near the baler.

I waved my arms to indicated he should just drive around the baler and continue on. From the relief on his face, he was glad to do so.

"Please turn your truck around and go the other way" I said to another truck drive in the opposite street waiting to turn. I was trying to clear the intersection of traffic before the fire equipment arrived. 

4. Go into the Zone and Think Clearly

With the tractor driver OK and the traffic cleared so the Libertytown Fire Company could now arrive, I sprinted to where I could get a fire extinguisher.

I thought of the fire extinguisher I always carry with my everyday carry (EDC) in my car trunk, but realized it was too small for this fire. So, I ran up the stairs into the church to find a larger fire extinguisher. 

When I ran into the Narthex, all was calm and friendly as families and the priest enjoyed laughing and chatting. I interrupted them with, "THERE  IS A TRACTOR FIRE OUTSIDE. WHERE IS A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!?"

"There is one right over there" said the priest. I opened the fire extinguisher door (luckily it was not locked as it often is in the city), pulled it out, ran out the front door and down the front church steps, pulled the pin, and gave it a test blast.

5. Law of Unintended Consequences

As always the laws of physics kick in. Here, it was the Law of Unintended Consequences. As I test fired the fire extinguisher, I saw the blast was going toward a van with a mom I had not seen before.

"Oh My God...I am so sorry! Please close that van door." I said as I continued to run past her. She smiled and I noted the blast dissipated before she it got to her so I continued to run toward the fire.

At 66, I cannot run like I did when I was 16, but I ran at a good enough clip to get to the fire before it became fully engaged.

6. Size Up the Danger BEFORE Going into the Danger

I came around some bushes to observe the danger before I fought it. The previous large billow of smoke had died down a bit so I was able see the extent of the fire better. I could see some fire above the baler and some below. I decided my course of action was to cut of the supply of oxygen causing  the flames by smothering them with blasts of the fire extinguisher chemicals.

7. Pray to the Holy Spirit for Courage and then ACT ACT ACT

I said a quick prayer. "Holy Spirit, please give me the wisdom to know what to do and the courage to do it."

The Holy Spirit, and my Guardian Angel especially as it was the Feast Day of the Guardian Angels, responded.

As the bottom was the easiest to reach first, I began to spray there and did a 360 around the entire baler spraying white chemical foam on the flames. That knocked out the flames underneath, but there was still the problem of the flames up top. I realized there were also probably flames inside the baler I could not see.

I saw the 10 step iron stair to the top of the baler and scaled it. Now on top of the fire, I was able to rain down chemical spray all over the area. The fire went out quickly, which was good because I was out of chemical spray.

8. Expect Conflict and Adapt to It

As my primary duty was being a crossing guard, I returned to my position at the walk cross near the other side of St. Pete's. As I expected, traffic was building.

I told each driver there was a fire ahead and they needed to turn around. Most cooperated, until two.

"We are almost out of gas. Can you tell us where the nearest gas station is?" I knew the one nearby was not accessible due to the fire so I said, "You will need to turn around. There is one back that way." They did.

I  was able to get about another 10 vehicles to turn around until a guy in a fancy pickup truck rolled down his window and said, "I'm not turning around."

"You can't go forward. There is a tractor that caught fire and the fire trucks will be there."

"I don't care. I am not moving." As he was in front, he was  preventing 12 other vehicles from turning around.  

I learned decades ago not to argue with uncooperatives in a disaster, so I just walked away. Then I took the two large signs on wheels that state "STATE LAW. PEDESTRIANS IN CROSSWAY!" in front of his truck. I also put traffic cones in front of his truck. 

9. Try to Report to the Arriving Commander on Scene

As the fire equipment was now arriving, remembering my NIMS 101 and 102 training, I sprinted down to them to report to the onsite commander. As the Chief existed the first fire truck, I said, "Any chance you can move this truck a few feet forward and I can get these cars out of the church parking lot?"

"No. I'm concerned that tractor engine is going to explode and so I want it here as a barrier."

BINGO. His need for everyone's safety tramped my need to get the parishioners out of the church parking lot.

He was right. Even if I put out the hay fire, the residual heat could make that engine and all the oil and gas ignite. I backed off and let the experts do their job. They hooked a water hose to the front pumper of the fire engine and began to hose off the hot engine and smoldering hay.

10.  Officials Can be Wrong

I returned to my crossing duty station where I could be the most effective as the professionals had arrived to deal with the aftermath of the tractor baler fire.

As I thought, the traffic on this busy road was building and building. I saw a guy with a "Fire Police" reflective vest talking to the uncooperative who was visibly angry and complaining.

"Can't we let this guy go through?" the fire policeman asked me. I guess the guy's complaining was getting to him.

"You tell me.  Look down there. Your own equipment is blocking the road and the intersection. That guy can turn around."

"He is being really argumentative." he answered.

"Well. Again, he can turn around or he can wait. Your equipment and everyone's safety has priority. Let's work together on this, OK, Brother?"

He turned to mollify the uncooperative who continued to whine and be selfish and block the now 45 drivers and families behind him.

11. Check that Everyone is OK and the Disaster is Over

I returned to the driver of the bailer. She was young and now laughing with a fire fighter. I gave her one of my Tactical Civil Defense business cards and said, "Disaster happen every day. Here are ways to learn how to deal with them." She was confused, but took the card. 

As there were several young firefighters and I always want to get them trained up in civil defense, I gave them all cards as well. One guy was particularly hesitant, but he took it. Many cops, state troopers, firefighters, intelligence people and others who see the dark side of humans are reluctant to take my civil defense card. 

That's OK. I'm backing them up with skills, knowledge, and an expert network that can save their lives, so as with mom's and small business owners I persist and make sure they know about the life saving skills to be learned on poetslife.blogspot.com and The American Civil Defense Association (tacda.org).

For example, I just wrote two articles for the Journal of Civil Dense that will help save their lives and their family's. 

Civil Defense and Children

Social Media for When Disaster Strikes

Both poetslife.blogspot.com and tacda.org have so many resources to teach them how to deal with manmade and natural disasters, if they ACT ACT ACT, read, learn and implement the lessons to be found there.

12.  God Works in Mysterious Ways

One of my mother's many sayings was, "God Works in Mysterious Ways!" As here.

During the week, one of the other crossing guards asked if someone would cover for his 5 pm Mass duty as he had a wedding to attend. He offered to take my 8 am Sunday Mass if I would take his 5 pm Saturday Mass. I agreed via text message and he thanked me.

God prepositions those he wants to act when disasters strike. He also provides the  skill set to do so. I was a substitute crossing guard who had the skill set to put out that baler fire on Route 75 outside St. Pete's after the 5 pm Mass.

My MIA Uncle 2nd Lt. Frank J. Curley was willing to be the substitute for another USAAF navigator on a bombing mission over HaHa Jima February 10, 1945. He got to Heaven at 21. I will have to wait.

Which is the final lesson.

I do not fear death. It is release from this material world to a far better world I cannot even imagine.

Due to the information dominance of medical, political and economic "experts" so many fear death right now and act irrationally.

They wear masks that do not work, inject an unapproved inoculation they pretend is a vaccine even into children who do not need it, and try to impose their medical tyranny on the world even after herd immunity has taken hold.

These people fear death. They think they can prevent it when they have been moving toward death from the day they were born.

I chose rationality and truth and Jesus long ago and so celebrate that he will bring me home one day.

That reality gives me the perseverance to continue to deal with the fires of flames and reality to try to educate Americans about civil defense when only 1% actually care to do so.

Bonus Lessons: As I did not have a breathing apparatus of eye protection when I put out the fire, I got fire extinguisher chemicals in my eyes (with contacts in), my throat, my lungs, and all over my clothes.

I immediately took out my contacts when I got home and washed the stinging burn out of them with clean water. As well, I put my dirty clothes in the washer.

Most importantly, I TALKED TO MY WIFE OF 38 YEARS ABOUT IT. 

Here is a vital tip for all the younger guys. 

Talk about it. 

Always talk about it. 

Do not  go dark because you think your girlfriend or wife will never understand. To not scare her, wait until after the adrenaline dump after the event to tell her.

Often noncommunication only leads to separation, anger, ruminating, discord, divorce, loosing access to your children, chaos and even suicide.

Talk it out.

I work with many special forces Vets to help write their resumes as they transition from military to civilian life. It is one of my personal charity's.

Most have post traumatic stress injury. Not disorder. An injury of the mind can be healed. And many are.

Critical to that healing is talking about it. I meet almost every Saturday with a Marine, 25 year police veteran, 9th degree black belt(Okinawan style) and author. He tells story after story. 

He gets it out, even at 79. Because he does, he is a very healthy and happy man.

What is the difference?

My friend learned many years ago how to talk it out with his wife, who is also prior police service.

Please always talk. 

It prevents problems. 

And it prevents military, first responder, and veteran suicide.

At the request of a good friend who pulled 2 tours in Vietnam on the DMZ, I wrote this poem before attending the funeral for a Navy SEAL who was the husband of his niece. 

It is one of the hardest poems I have ever had to write. 

I do not want to write any more such poems.

Please talk it out.

Soft Feet Walk the Wet Green Grass at Arlington

 

Soft feet walk the wet green grass at Arlington,

Where a young mother cradles her baby and sons

Weeping softly in death-caused grief and pain

As her warrior husband is interred and remembered.

 

Many sing praises of his courage, bravery and strength

Under enemy fire in fierce battles in foreign lands.

She feels the baby move at her neck and cry out,

Hungry for food but unaware of the greater hunger.

 

The mother hears more words of praise from the chaplain.

She tries to maintain, but the knot of grief grabs her throat.

She sees the two boys fidgeting and looking about

And wonders how she will explain their father to them one day.

 

Her pain is now to a degree she knows as few do

The sword that has pierced her heart can never be removed

In this lifetime, and will stay with her until her own death:

Until then there are three children who must be raised.

 

As Christ hung on a Cross and Mary saw her son taken

So the Holy Spirit could be revealed to the human race,

This mother must protect, nourish, love and kindle

The spirit of these children co-created with her husband.

 

The wind blows and she looks up to see a man and a flag

Telling her how grateful the nation is for her husband’s sacrifice.

She knows now what every warrior’s widow must know,

The truth of his life work that became his mission:

 

His love for her was the reason he was willing to die,

That sacrificial love the reason these children live.

She cradles the baby and flag, takes the boys hands,

Stands and walks, despite the grief, to her destiny and duty.

 

 November 14, 2017

This is an Easter Card my mother sent to my son Josh when he was 8.

She sent it and then died a few days later.

The card arrived 3 weeks after she died. 

Grammy was right.

God does work in mysterious ways.

Sometimes he uses fire to purify us.

My American Future is in Martinsburg, WV, USA

For ancient Indian tribes for centuries who left behind their burial mounds, for pre-American revolutionary pioneers, during the American Revolutionary and Civil Wars, and until today with Route 81 and major state roads as well as the railroads, Martinsburg, West Virginia has always been at the crossroads of the American nation. 

Now, it is time to return to traditional American values. Best to live where they still apply and people still follow them. 

Where the majority understands the American Constitutional Republic, sacrifice to keep it alive, and the value of service to others.

So, my wife, who grew up on an orchard in West Virginia, convinced me we needed to move to a safe, secure, piece of land with real Americans.

We sold our house in Mt. Airy, rented a farm house for a year, and went house hunting.

It was time consuming and frustrating. The policies of the leaders of this nation and their Communist Chinese Party owners have ruined everything, including the housing market.

But we persisted and doubled down. My wife, having grown up on an orchard, loved the orchard areas we found in Berkeley County, WV.

One Sunday she saw a sign for a yard sale. Thinking it might mean a house was for sale, she pulled into Mountain Crest development. It is surrounded on two sides by orchards, had an equestrian center at the entrance, and a wildlife preserve on a huge mountain behind it. Not surprisingly, many Veterans live there. 

So we just bought a house and a plot of land in Martinsburg, West Virginia.

We are currently having it painted, the electric redone, and conducting other home improvements to move in soon. 

As my wife and I both work from home, it is good to have separate rooms for our work. We even have a spare bedroom for when our grandson visits. 

And there is a pool out back for him to enjoy. What a great land America is. When I was in grade school, I delivered the Philadelphia Inquirer to a rich guy who had a pool. As long as I cleaned it every time I used it, he let me, and my friends use it...as he rarely used it.

Now I have a home with a pool. Never thought I would see the day.

We were actually looking to downsize and purchase a small one-story home. The market offered nothing, and God had other plans for us apparently.

We look forward to enjoying our children and grandchildren on this land and surrounding wilderness. There is a HUGE wilderness are just behind us we look forward to exploring.

We are in the discovery point and enjoying the wonder of it all.

We meet new people like the hard working brothers painting our house. As one said, "My Dad always said we need to paint each house like it was our own." YES! Old timey values.

Billy and the Curley Brothers, coming off their wild success playing in Frederick for the past two years, will soon be playing live music in the Martinsburg area and advancing American culture. 

The family diner where we ate had traditional Christian sayings on the wall. The traditional diner downtown Blue and White actually had a pay phone in the corner. 

More importantly, he will have a quiet studio to record his new songs. What a gift 

Eamon will join us in the basement to live for a time to pay off his truck and save money to buy a house. 

We are going out on weekends and fixing up the house and property.

Busy working on the house each weekend, especially Robin cleaning the interior until it is immaculate, we have had to find new restaurants as there has been no time to cook.

I even now have a man cave. The prior owner ran electric to the shed to do serious woodworking. The shed was a total mess with saw dust and wood pieces everywhere, but it had potential. 

For weeks I been able to clean it out, added Reflectix insulation material to the walls, and am now at the point where I can create my tiny world to share with my grandson.

As a student of history, especially Western and American history, I look forward to learning the rich history of Berkeley County.In 1748 George Washington, at the age of 16, surveyed present-day Berkeley Country for Lord Fairfax. A drive around the Washington Heritage Trail inspired by General and President George Washington's horseback explorations will be a great introduction. It follows two historic east/west passageways into America's first frontier: the Potomac River and the Alexandria Warm Springs Road that is now WV9 crossing the WV panhandle. What a deeply meaningful area to explore and learn old timey, traditional, Christian, Constitutional Republicans...we are free.

This new property was owned by a birder.  I have always loved birds. My mother raised us with the saying, "Feed the birds and you will never go hungry." 

She would take us to feed the ducks at the nearby ponds and threw bread to the birds outside our home. 

He did such a magnificent job feeding them and building them little bird houses that I saw a cardinal up closer than I have ever seen one before. It will be a gift to watch these birds.

Major industrial and traveler railroads pass through Martinsburg. Most are carrying coal from West Virginia mines to the Baltimore port to go to the Communist Chinese Party.

But there is also an AMTRAK train that goes to Washington, DC.

At the Diner

 

 At the Diner,

love, hope and tragedy,

faith, broken lives

and buckets of warm coffee,

but most importantly,

fast and cheap good food

all mingle in cosmic proportion

to the big-tipping customers

and life-giving waitresses

who pass their moments in space

and time co-mingled in experience

of talk and talk and food and drink

and talk and talk and talk there.

 

At the Diner,

When the waitress says,

"What'll it be, Hon!" she knows

what it will be but still asks

and you still reply, "Usual.  Number 3."

you know it will be as good as before

and lickety split, three stacks wheat pancakes

golden brown and fluffy upon which you drop

a half stick of butter and a carafe of syrup

with marble sized blueberries inside

and toasted scrapple

and easy over country eggs

with buttered toast

before shoveling in

the Pennsylvania Dutch scrapple

with Heinz "57 varieties" catsup

as a roof on top.

As the first juicy pancake slice

slides down your throat

to your famished stomach

you start to hear Frank Sinatra's

 "Strangers in the Night"

and it seems as if love were

possible tonight, right here, right now,

maybe you and the waitress or the

girl much younger than you in that booth

with the unjilted smile and honey hair

that might consider you, Yes You,

in her life and dreams and future.

  

At the Diner,

so many memories crash through

the minds creeping depression to reveal

cracks in the thick walls of melancholia,

and openings where light and therapy from waitresses

who double as mothers and nurses bringing

good hearty food to souls who, due to life's

machinations, often forget to eat.

  

At the Diner,

so easily and languidly...

the mind drifts,

and my father sits in that booth over there!

I am five, and we have stopped 

for lunch in the middle

of the beer truck delivery run

and I have his undivided attention,

one of the few times

that would ever happen --

and he is regaling me

with stories of his childhood

of how during the Depression

he had to go to school

with orange shoes his mother bought

cheap and put black shoe polish on

except it rained and washed the shoe polish off

and all the kids laughed at him

and he was so embarrassed

that even as a kid he always worked two jobs

so he could afford good clothes,

and the time

they rolled so many old tires

down the street they were able to hold off

a squadron of police only to find

the police knew their parents

and they returned home

thinking they got away with murder

only to find their parents on the doorstep

waiting to give them a licking

 because the police,

who belonged to their same parish,

had visited before

and tipped off their parents

to do the punishing.

 

At the Diner,

in another booth,

Tony Fondots and I

 have stopped at a Circle diner

 in Southern New Jersey

coming back from the shore

and young and drunk and laughing

and goofing with some young girls who respond,

"I have my doubts about you Fondouts!"

in a play on Tony's name

and we all begin to laugh so hard

 the tears run down our cheeks

and this was way before a guy

who didn't like government employees

saw Tony had on a Postal Service shirt

and tossed him from a bridge in Norristown, PA

causing his pelvis to fracture in 186 places

and then got off because his Dad was able to afford

a better and slicker lawyer than Tony

 and offered this wisdom afterwards,

"Why do you think it's called

the criminal justice system? 

It's justice for the criminals."

 

At the Diner,

in another booth,

My body is old and spent

like that guy at the end of the movie "2001"

and does not respond too well to stimuli

like talk or thought, but the food

warms my mouth and stomach,

the coffee is good and hot,

the waitress is kind and funny

and ignores my drooling on my plate.

The pancakes fill my hunger

just before my heart stops

its power-plant strength contractions,

and it is all over...

 

(Or so I thought...)

 

...Until, at Heaven's Gate,

I'm hungry and tired

from too many years on the road

and stop in this diner where St. Brigit

immediately brings me ice water

and hot coffee, winks, and says,

"What'll it be, Hon!"

and I wink back and say,

The usual.  Number 3. 

"Pancakes and scrapple. 

And another cup 'a java, please?"

and she smiles back and says,

"You betcha! It so happens

I just brewed another pot

because we were expectin' ya, Hon!"

and we both laugh in that Diner

and let the tears run down our cheeks

to bring water and love and strength

to all the diner customers on earth. 

At the Diner was first published  in Lynx Eye, “At the Diner,”, Vol. III, No. 1, Winter, 1996, pages 79-83, Pam McCully, Editor, 1880 Hill Drive,  Los Angeles, CA, 90041.

When a Report Card Meant Something

When a Report Card Meant Something

When I went to Holy Angels Grade School in West Oak Lane in Philadelphia in the 1960's, we were tested repeatedly for academic, civics and character and assigned grades that reflected our efforts. 

As well, we were assigned grades for religion, English, Social Studies, Arithmetic, Science, Handwriting, Art, Music and Health Education.

Four times a year, we were given a report card that rates us with an A, B, C, D or F according to how our teachers viewed our work. 

For proof, here I provide examples of my report cards over those years.

I had forgotten about these over the years, but my dear departed mother saved them.

When she died in 2004, it took my 6 siblings and I (one was missing) about 4 hours to divide up all her possessions.

We donated the furniture for her apartment to a charity.

Then we sat in a circle and divided up the cards, letters and report cards (and in my case poems and my letters from Paris France when I went to the American College in Paris in 1975) we had sent her over the years.

My mother saved my report cards over all those years and I share them here.

What Grades Meant in the 1960's

Back then, the school system was clear about what each grade meant.

"The habits and attitudes listed below are desirable trains for good living. The teachers has indicated those which have stood out as distinctly commendable, as well as those for whose further development the cooperation of he parents is desired.

A indicates traits in which pupil is outstanding

B indicates traits in which pupil is above average.

C indicates traits in which pupil is satisfactory

D indicates traits in which improvement is needed

F indicates failure.

(A check after an entry indicates that improvement has been shown.)"

Grades were issued four times a year.

You had to present them them your parents who had to sign their signature as proof they saw the grades and discussed them with you.

There was also a "school night" when the parents would go from classroom to classroom to discuss your grades with every teacher who taught you.

Citizen, Character and Health Grades

Areas in which we were judged included:

• Cooperation
• Self Control
• Perseverance
• Courage
• Obedience
• Orderliness
• Health Habits

Each trait is described in the report cards shown here. 

School Subject Grades

Again, the grade description was clear.

"Subjects are graded in multiples of 5: as 95, 90, 85 etc. The passing average in each subject is 70. An average below 70 is indicated by F."

School subjects we took from 1st to 8th grade included the following:

• Religion
• English (further broken down into Oral, Written, Reading, and Spelling)
• Social Studies (further broken down into History, Geography and Civics)
• Arithmetic
• Science
• Handwriting
• Art
• Music
• Health Education
• Thoroughness in Daily Work
• Attention During Class
• Home Study

Record of Attendance

A precise number record was kept of the time each student was present (showed up for school), absent or late.

My F from Sister James Ines in Grade 5

One day I raised my hand over and over and said "Sister...Sister...Sister..." because my bladder was bursting under the pressure of too much water and I needed to get to the boy's room.

Sister Ines was writing at the board, turned, saw me desperately raising my hand, and ignored me.

I continued to wave my hand frantically saying "Sister...Sister...Sister..." but she kept writing, turning to explain the lesson, and ignored me.

Thinking, correctly, that peeing my pants in 5th grade would haunt me for years, I got myself up, left the room, and went to the boy's room to sweet relief.

Unfortunately, Sister Ines did not see it that way. 

She actually came into the boys room, grabbed me by the collar, and dragged me down to Mother Superior, Mother Mary Siena.

I was terrified, or course.

Both upbraided me for being a "bold article."

And Sister Ines assured me that there would be "consequences."

She was true to her word.

The F you see recorded in my 2nd semester in 5th grade under Cooperation was the consequence.

On the original report card you see she erased a D minus and made it an F.

She would have no noncooperation in her class.

The story does not end there.

When I was going through my background investigation for the United States Air Force, the F was duly noted.

The investigators wanted to know why I had mostly A's and then a sudden F.

When I explained the reason, they laughed and dismissed me.

The Meaning of Citizenship, Character, and Health, School Subjects, and Real Grades

Sadly, the disciple of grades has been lost in the United States, but not in other nations who maintain them and what they mean.

We have abandoned them at our peril.

We are derelict in our duty when we give young people passing grades they have not earned. 

We deny them a future because we deny them reality.

Sometimes behavior deserves an F, even when it is not "fair."

Life is not fair.

The sooner known the happier the life.