Louisville’s Mega Cavern. They have the first and only underground Zipline! can you imagine zipping in the dark with only your helmet light? Sounds like a great time!
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One year ago today (March 29th, 2012) my Nephew David Wayne Gee-Taylor was killed in an accident in the Kandahar region of your country. Several of his unit buddies are still suffering from the injuries they substained that day and will probably have pain and suffering for the rest of their lives from that fateful day.
He went to your country voluntarily, along with all the other proud men and Women of the United States and other Countries. Not as an invading army to conquer and pillar but to help you gain your freedom from an oppression. It’s what we do when someone somewhere needs help. Time after time we lend a helping hand. Throughout the world when there is a wrong doing, calamity or natural disaster, our men and women come to help.
To date there have been over 3000 men and women from the coalition killed in Afghanistan for “Operation Enduring Freedom”. 2000 plus from America alone including my nephew “Lil” David. And, just a few days ago another young man from our neighboring Daviess county.
And for what may I ask you? So that you are no longer the oppressed. He, along with the others that are still serving in your Country and for the ones that have paid the ulimate price. You may not like or agree with our Government. That’s fine. We also don’t always agree with it either. But that’s not the point I am getting at.
What I am getting at is this. He was there to help you. He believed in what he stood for. “Freedom”. He willingly gave his life and his future for you, “The People of Afghanistan” and for you to experience Freedom. He was so much bigger than his upbringing. He said “Yes I will go” and he did. He knew the risk. All that serve know the risk. Thier families know the risk and carry the burden. But they all volunteered and their families stood by them. They weren’t forced or drafted…They went freely. Freely to support and assist you “The People of Afghanistan”.
So what makes someone sign up for service and to go over to a foreign soil to help knowing they may pay the ulimate price? What he did goes beyond borders and doctrines. It was inside his heart. Inside the heart of those that go. Once again you the People of Afghanistan may not like our Government, but our men and women over there are there to help you. Help you to rebuild. Help you to educate. Help get you back on your feet.
So where are you at? I see on the news almost weekly of car bombings, suicide bombers and more oppression. Our “guys” clear out the bad guys and you let them take it back over again when we leave. There are a few glimmers of hope coming from your Country but still mostly turmoil none the less and it saddens me. I am sure it saddens all of the families and friends of the ones that paid it all and the ones that are still there. I just looked online today and there are still travel warnings to your country. It read’s ”travel not advised due to the serious risk of suicide bombings, kidnapping and general lawlessness”. Where is the hope he help gave you? When can I say that it made a difference. Has it changed you at all?It changed us…
I am not expecting for your Country to be a clone of the western countries that are there helping you. You are your own people. But “You” deserve freedom. Freedom to be able to go to the market without the fear of someone beside you blowing themself up in the name of religion. You should be able to go freely to shop and visit without the fear of a car exploding. You should be able to worship or even choose not to worship without the fear of being punished or murdered. You should have good schools, clean drinking water, electricity and the basic human needs and rights everyone one of us on this small blue planet deserve. Our men and women are there to give you the opportunity to have those freedoms. Will you accept those freedoms? Will you rise up yourself and take back what someone tried to take from you? Our men and women are not the Oppressors. They are the Defenders of the truth…They are your Defenders.
To the People of Afghanistan I ask you this. Our Country and the Coalition has given you the opportunity to make a change. To be no more the bullied by a select group or belief but to be free yourself and not live in fear and oppresion.
My Nephew Lil David came from three generations of Gee’s that said “I will” so “send me”. They all took the risk. We are proud of them all. We are proud of everyone that has been “on the wall”. We are proud of the work they are doing in Afghanistan and other parts of the world.
To the People of Afghanistan, it’s now up to you. Lil David left behind a lot of family and friends and we are all very proud of him. His was proud of what he did for you. Now it’s your turn to make us all proud…
With love and honor for Lil David,
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Before we took far separate paths as adults we were two little toddler boys that only had each other to rely on and to hold on to as our world was turned upside pretty much from the word “go”. I couldn’t have been any older than five and I clearly remember and can still see that when our “mom” would get pissed off she would shout at us she was going to jump in the “Goddamn river” and she would make us watch as she packed her suitcase and left my little brother and me all alone in the house to hold each other in the living room floor and cry after begging her to not go…”Please don’t go mommy, we won’t do it again”… whatever “it” was that caused her to flip out…Me, being the oldest I tried to protect my little brother during these fits she had… This was repeated over and over for whatever reason and seemed to come out of nowhere and happened over and over our entire life growing up. We lived about 3 blocks from the river. 531 second street was the address. It was a straight shot up Second Street, thru 3 lights and then the boat ramp. And I all I could think of each time was mom’s car was sinking in the river with her in it. Her hands on the wheel and we caused it…But we weren’t bad kids. Hell, we were little kids. Her reason for doing this I still don’t know to this day. Another thing she did was lock us in separate closets. He (my brother) would be locked in her closet in her bedroom and me in our bedroom closet. I remember time after time sitting in the dark on that trunk full of my deceased father’s clothes, crying and hollering for David asking if he was alright and he also in the dark crying and hollering for me like prisoners trying to communicate with each other though their cells were far apart…I couldn’t even sit up. The closet was full of clothes so I would sit on that trunk huddled up…”mom” had left us again alone in the house to “teach” us a lesson. You think that kind of treatment would be a little hard if forced onto teenage boys or prisoners of war but David and I where little kids. We were barely in Grade school. It always seemed like she was gone for hours each time she left. All we would hear between our wailing would be silence… an empty house, two little boys alone locked in closets begging to be released…
I remember one of my first memories was being told she (mom) was giving my little brother away. A couple showed up. We were in the kitchen. They picked him up and I watched as they took him outside and loaded him into a white four door car. I then sat in a metal high chair and cried not knowing why my little brother was given away but he was gone…she thought it was “cute” that I cried. .”I gave your little brother away” she would say… I didn’t cry … I wailed from my entire being. The couple only took him riding and eventually brought him back. But to this little boy I had thought he was given away because she said she given him away. Growing up, it was a lot of cold mind games played out on us little kids. Everything was our fault. But on the outside it looked like a perfect little world.
When we got older she started locking us in the bathroom. It had an outside lock on the door. I used to try and climb out through the transom at the top of the door. One foot on the tub, one foot on the door knob and I could pull myself up. When I was able to do that, it turned into “get in the car!!” and David I would load up in the back seat. It was usually at night and she would drive to my real Mother’s trailer in behind Green Gables restaurant. She would park out in front of her trailer and tell us to “get out of the car”…”Let her raise you”…”you want that??” …”DO YOU WANT THAT???!!!!!!” she would scream…of course we would be crying and we would beg her to stop and after awhile she would start the car and we would go home with us promising to not do “it” again whatever “it” was….
I don’t know why we were faced to suffer through those rants of hers over and over as little boys. The photographs we have of us as little boys mostly were staged. Sit this way. Smile. Hold the phone and act like you’re talking on it. Me knowing I wasn’t allowed to even talk on the phone … We weren’t allowed to cross the street until we were about 14 years old. Everything was controlled. I don’t know why she thought it was “ok” to do what she did. It was nothing short of child abuse… I guess today as my brother sits alone in jail and his son is dead and his step mom did what she did, it reminds me of mom. My mom tried to erase all of my birth Mother’s family except for the ones that meant something to her or she could get something out of it. They basically never existed in her eyes. She thought she was a “savior” in her own eyes. Did she do some good in the course of time? Of course she did. So it’s the same shit, different generation. I would also bet if David and I had any other name than “Gee”, like if we had our Mother’s name instead, she would have taken that away from us too. The case in point, my nephew. His family didn’t sign him away but we all were erased and kept back until he, like my brother and I had to do. Come of age and figure out what the hell was the truth and what wasn’t the truth. In December before he was shipped out. He spent four days with his Father. My brother, not the best father in the world but his father just the same. They made amends. Lil David finally knew the real truth. There was the truth, warts and all and hugs and forgiveness… Thank God for that.
It’s a year later and I still run into people that didn’t know Lil” David is my Nephew or that my brother David lost his only son in Afghanistan…and are shocked of the deception…Am I shocked? Of course not. I have been through this before. Like I said earlier. It was just a couple of generations earlier that my brother and I had experienced the same crap. So I felt his pain, I feel our pain…all the years of me suppressing what we went through is no longer buried… I can’t forget the things my brother has done as an adult…But the little boy inside of him and me need each other.
Setting the record straight.
part 2 in a few…
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Dave Fowler bio
Dave knew from a very young age that he wanted to be a bass player. Growing up and playing with musicians like Warren Haynes in Western North Carolina helped Dave understand the importance of being a bass player and the role a bassist must play to be in successful bands.
Dave attributes much of his seat of the pants education by playing with older more experienced player as a teenager and always listening to what was going on around him…of course being able to work with names like Dolly Parton, Cinderella, Billy Ray Cyrus, Tracy Lawrence, Lorrie Morgan, Dottie West, Edwin McCain, legendary producer Bill Szymczyk (The Eagles) and many others require just as much in the “people skills” area as the playing side of things. That is what you will be able to learn @ Dave’s clinics for Spector basses.He will give you a information on how to play your instrument and make a living doing it. Dave’s entire approach is seat of the pants hardcore learning how to do it the hard way…and you can cash in on his experience by attending his clinic at ABBA’S MUSIC, 7 PM THURSDAY NOV. 15. Dave has a wealth of information in addition to his playing skills–topics covered will be informational to all players, keyboardist, guitarist and singers as well as bass players. Information such as the Nasville numbering system, how to make a living in the music business, studio production, session work, and Dave will answer any questions you might have.
There is no cost to attend this special event, seating is limited so come early to get the best seating.
119 North Main Street
Henderson, Kentucky 42420
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