About
I’m writing this using my best recollection of the original. When I recently reformatted my Blog, my original description was lost. Henceforth this includes some reflection on the ensuing 17 years. I Pray to our Lord and God, Jesus Christ our country returns to the vision of our founding fathers.
I began this Blog in 2008, choosing the name Gray Morass reflecting on a comment I made to my wife, that I felt the country was sinking into a gray morass.
The ensuing years saw the Democrats’ progressive policies, long infiltrating our lives, exploding under the Obama presidency, taking control over our freedoms. Never so rapidly and forcefully as under the corrupt Biden administration, I believe Obama was pulling his strings as Bidens senility couldn’t be hidden, even with the few and far between public appearances and the MSM covering his posterior.
As for the author, myself, My Grandparents, on both sides, were Naturalized citizens when becoming a resident required more than open borders that welcome terrorists, criminals, gangs, drug dealers, child exploiters , psychopaths, whoever, we’ll give you free food that you discard by the ton daily because you don’t like it, or your religion forbids pork or the animal wasn’t butchered according to Halal method, house you in posh hotels, give you debit cards, cell phones and more while so many of our American citizens are homeless, hungry and begging for spare change on the streets.
Enough of that, while I didn’t do much blogging over the past few years, I’m fired up to keep this site current.
I was born in a rural community in upstate NY, Dad, who was a weaver, and Mom, left New York City in ’39 or ’40 buying a large property with a 150 year old barn and burned down house. They didn’t want to raise their children in a decaying New York City. Their plans to build a house were cut short by WW2 and the ensuing rationings, the temporary structure Dad built became permanent and larger with each new child, I was the fourth of five. We had cows, chickens and made our own hay, harvested by hand, no baler. Grew a large garden, Mom canned vegetables for later consumption. We lacked indoor plumbing, pumping water from a well, heated with wood, milking cows by hand before walking 3/4 mile to catch the school bus.
Our 3 room schoolhouse had two grades in each room, with kindergarten in one row of grade 1 and 2 room. My parents weren’t happy with secular education and enrolled us in a Catholic school in the next door town, our parish helping with the tuition.
In my new school, I was taken aback when one of my classmates said to me “I’m sorry your poor”, was it my hand me down clothes or something else? I don’t know. I never considered myself poor, actually feeling privileged, living on a beautiful country property, stars shining so gloriously, acres of fields and woods to explore and enjoy, feeling sorry for those living in an apartment their parents don’t own, no open space to play and explore and city lights drowning out the glory of the stars.
The ensuing years saw many changes, our family left the farm when my father found employment in another state at a much higher wage than available locally and bought a house in Connecticut, keeping the farm with the intent of retiring back and building a new home. A dream which never reached fruition. After high school I served an apprenticeship in mechanical trades, then was drafted into military service, serving in Vietnam, ’70-’71. On my discharge I was laid off and found employment at a company where I gradually worked up through the ranks becoming a mechanical engineer. (Law required employers to hold the jobs of those drafted into military service, apparently laying me off on return satisfied that requirement).
My father died before retirement, on my mother’s death many years later the property was inherited by my brothers and myself. My first wife died from cancer at age 41, my new wife, who had been a neighbor and was single Mom running her own successful business, and I, decided to sell both of our Connecticut properties, buy out my brothers shares and semi-retire our business, of which I was fully partner to after retiring from my engineering position at 55. Here we realized my parents dream, Built a new Home and Barn to enjoy the many fruits of our labors, realized through the opportunities our country offered.
I pray this blog makes even the tiniest impact on returning this country to the vision of our founding fathers, “one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all“