Johnny Carson, shakes hands with the show’s announcer Ed McMahon during Carson’s final taping of The Tonight Show on May 22, 1992. (AP Photo/Douglas C. Pizac)

NYTimes:

June 24, 2009
Ed McMahon, America’s Top Second Banana, Dies

By RICHARD SEVERO
Ed McMahon, who for nearly 30 years was Johnny Carson’s affable second banana on “The Tonight Show,” introducing it with his ringing trademark call, “Heeeere’s Johnny!,” died early Tuesday in Los Angeles. He was 86.

His publicist, Howard Bragman, told NBC that Mr. McMahon died at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center surrounded by his family. Mr. Bragman did not give a cause of death, saying only that Mr. McMahon had a “multitude of health problems the last few months.”

A person close to Mr. McMahon, speaking anonymously because he was not authorized to release information, said Mr. McMahon had bone cancer, among other ailments, The Associated Press reported. In February he had been hospitalized with pneumonia, Mr. Bragman told CNN.

With his broad, genial, regular-guy features, Mr. McMahon had the face of someone you would buy a used car from. Indeed, for decades he was one of television’s most ubiquitous pitchmen, selling everything from boats to beer. He also took a few acting roles and in later years was the host of the television talent show “Star Search” and wrote some popular books, includinghis memoirs.

But it was in the role of the faithful Tonto to Carson’s wry Lone Ranger that Mr. McMahon made his sideman’s mark. After he rolled out his introduction like a red carpet for the boss, and after Carson delivered his nightly monologue, Mr. McMahon, in jacket and tie, would take his seat on the couch beside the host’s desk, chat and banter with Carson a bit before the guests came on and almost invariably guffaw at his jokes, even when he was the butt of them. When the guests did arrive, he would slide over to make room and rarely interrupt.

6 years, 2 wars, and 85 combat missions serving in the Marine Corp. That was part of Ed McMahon’s 86 year history, as well.

It’s the passing of a generation, folks.

Andrea Shea King did an interview with him November 30, 2007. Worth a listen to.

The rest of the NYTimes piece, by Richard Severo:

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Photo by Scott Varley, for the Daily Breeze

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Photo courtesy of John Phelps, Chance’s father, of Running Iron Studios in Dubois, Wyoming, who used Chance as the model for his WWII memorial.

Missy alerted me to the story of Marine Lieutenant Colonel Strobl’s escort of the remains of Lance Corporal Chance Phelps to be an HBO movie, airing in February and starring Kevin Beacon. Phelps was killed in action on April 9, 2004 in Iraq and buried April 17th in Dubois, Wyoming. Read the moving account if you have not yet done so.

Thanks Missy.

Yesterday, I received an email from CJ, going over the proper etiquette and ceremonial symbolism behind the folding of the American flag that drapes military coffins (apparently, the symbolism/recitation for each of the 13 folds wasn’t originally attached to the ceremonial 13-step folding; but it has become part of the time-honored tradition worth preserving):
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1967-2008

He had been admitted to ICU with a serious cystic fibrosis attack about 18 days ago.

Something Dean Barnett wrote a year ago:

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Sgt Eddie Jeffers, US Army, a fellow blogger and hero serving in Iraq was killed on September 19th.  I did not know this young man but reading his posts I immediately came away with the thought that this man was a true patriot.  A man who loved his country, who served honorably, and believed in bringing freedom to those who don’t have it.  Frank Salvato at the New Media Journal:

Through the tears of anguish I cried upon hearing the news I felt a genuine anger beginning to envelop me. I felt the injustice and inequity that comes with experiencing the death of not only a 23-year old, but a genuine and fine individual. But then I began to contemplate the words Eddie chose to share with us from Ramadi, Iraq, an earthly hell which he endured and will never return from. I reflected on his concerns and his worries and I realized that anguish and anger – in the context of his sacrifice and the sacrifice of his family – are selfish.

I am not related to Eddie, but I feel a special brotherhood with him. I will be celebrating Eddie’s life, saluting his honor and I am motivated by his service and dedication, his patriotism and heroism, his memory, to make sure that our country does right by his life.

Eddie wrote a piece that was widely read last February.  Bill O’ Reilly mentioned it on his show.  In honor of this young man I am reposting that piece which shows us the true character of a hero:

Hope Rides Alone
USA Sgt. Eddie Jeffers, USA (Iraq)
February 1, 2007

I stare out into the darkness from my post, and I watch the city burn to the ground. I smell the familiar smells, I walk through the familiar rubble, and I look at the frightened faces that watch me pass down the streets of their neighborhoods. My nerves hardly rest; my hands are steady on a device that has been given to me from my government for the purpose of taking the lives of others.

I sweat, and I am tired. My back aches from the loads I carry. Young American boys look to me to direct them in a manner that will someday allow them to see their families again…and yet, I too, am just a boy….my age not but a few years more than that of the ones I lead. I am stressed, I am scared, and I am paranoid…because death is everywhere. It waits for me, it calls to me from around street corners and windows, and it is always there.

There are the demons that follow me, and tempt me into thoughts and actions that are not my own…but that are necessary for survival. I’ve made compromises with my humanity. And I am not alone in this. Miles from me are my brethren in this world, who walk in the same streets…who feel the same things, whether they admit to it or not.

And to think, I volunteered for this…

And I am ignorant to the rest of the world…or so I thought.

But even thousands of miles away, in Ramadi, Iraq, the cries and screams and complaints of the ungrateful reach me. In a year, I will be thrust back into society from a life and mentality that doesn’t fit your average man. And then, I will be alone. And then, I will walk down the streets of America, and see the yellow ribbon stickers on the cars of the same people who compare our President to Hitler.

I will watch the television and watch the Cindy Sheehans, and the Al Frankens, and the rest of the ignorant sheep of America spout off their mouths about a subject they know nothing about. It is their right, however, and it is a right that is defended by hundreds of thousands of boys and girls scattered across the world, far from home. I use the word boys and girls, because that’s what they are. In the Army, the average age of the infantryman is nineteen years old. The average rank of soldiers killed in action is Private First Class.

People like Cindy Sheehan are ignorant. Not just to this war, but to the results of their idiotic ramblings, or at least I hope they are. They don’t realize its effects on this war. In this war, there are no Geneva Conventions, no cease fires. Medics and Chaplains are not spared from the enemy’s brutality because it’s against the rules. I can only imagine the horrors a military Chaplain would experience at the hands of the enemy. The enemy slinks in the shadows and fights a coward’s war against us. It is effective though, as many men and women have died since the start of this war. And the memory of their service to America is tainted by the inconsiderate remarks on our nation’s news outlets. And every day, the enemy changes…only now, the enemy is becoming something new. The enemy is transitioning from the Muslim extremists to Americans. The enemy is becoming the very people whom we defend with our lives. And they do not realize it. But in denouncing our actions, denouncing our leaders, denouncing the war we live and fight, they are isolating the military from society…and they are becoming our enemy.

Democrats and peace activists like to toss the word "quagmire" around and compare this war to Vietnam. In a way they are right, this war is becoming like Vietnam. Not the actual war, but in the isolation of country and military. America is not a nation at war; they are a nation with its military at war. Like it or not, we are here, some of us for our second, or third times; some even for their fourth and so on. Americans are so concerned now with politics, that it is interfering with our war.

Terrorists cut the heads off of American citizens on the internet…and there is no outrage, but an American soldier kills an Iraqi in the midst of battle, and there are investigations, and sometimes soldiers are even jailed…for doing their job.

It is absolutely sickening to me to think our country has come to this. Why are we so obsessed with the bad news? Why will people stop at nothing to be against this war, no matter how much evidence of the good we’ve done is thrown in their face? When is the last time CNN or MSNBC or CBS reported the opening of schools and hospitals in Iraq? Or the leaders of terror cells being detained or killed?  It’s all happening, but people will not let up their hatred of President Bush. They will ignore the good news, because it just might show people that Bush was right.

America has lost its will to fight. It has lost its will to defend what is right and just in the world. The crazy thing of it all is that the American people have not even been asked to sacrifice a single thing. It’s not like World War II, where people rationed food and turned in cars to be made into metal for tanks. The American people have not been asked to sacrifice anything. Unless you are in the military or the family member of a servicemember, its life as usual…the war doesn’t affect you.

But it affects us. And when it is over and the troops come home and they try to piece together what’s left of them after their service…where will the detractors be then? Where will the Cindy Sheehans be to comfort and talk to soldiers and help them sort out the last couple years of their lives, most of which have been spent dodging death and wading through the deaths of their friends? They will be where they always are, somewhere far away, where the horrors of the world can’t touch them. Somewhere where they can complain about things they will never experience in their lifetime; things that the young men and women of America have willingly taken upon their shoulders.

We are the hope of the Iraqi people. They want what everyone else wants in life: safety, security, somewhere to call home. They want a country that is safe to raise their children in. Not a place where their children will be abducted, raped and murdered if they do not comply with the terrorists demands. They want to live on, rebuild and prosper. And America has given them the opportunity, but only if we stay true to the cause and see it to its end. But the country must unite in this endeavor…we cannot place the burden on our military alone. We must all stand up and fight, whether in uniform or not. And supporting us is more than sticking yellow ribbon stickers on your cars. It’s supporting our President, our troops and our cause.

Right now, the burden is all on the American soldiers. Right now, hope rides alone. But it can change, it must change. Because there is only failure and darkness ahead for us as a country, as a people, if it doesn’t.

Let’s stop all the political nonsense, let’s stop all the bickering, let’s stop all the bad news and let’s stand and fight!

Isn’t that what America is about anyway?

Michael Monsoor, a Navy Seal, sacrificed his life for his buddies on Sept 29th. Just like Marine Corps Sgt Rafael Peralta before him he jumped on a grenade to save the lives of the other Navy Seals in his snipers nest:

A Navy SEAL sacrificed his life to save his comrades by throwing himself on top of a grenade Iraqi insurgents tossed into their sniper hideout, fellow members of the elite force said.

Petty Officer 2nd Class Michael A. Monsoor had been near the only door to the rooftop structure Sept. 29 when the grenade hit him in the chest and bounced to the floor, said four SEALs who spoke to The Associated Press this week on condition of anonymity because their work requires their identities to remain secret.

“He never took his eye off the grenade, his only movement was down toward it,” said a 28-year-old lieutenant who sustained shrapnel wounds to both legs that day. “He undoubtedly saved mine and the other SEALs’ lives, and we owe him.”

Monsoor, a 25-year-old gunner, was killed in the explosion in Ramadi, west of Baghdad. He was only the second SEAL to die in Iraq since the war began.

[...]Prior to his death, Monsoor had already demonstrated courage under fire. He has been posthumously awarded the Silver Star for his actions May 9 in Ramadi, when he and another SEAL pulled a team member shot in the leg to safety while bullets pinged off the ground around them.

Monsoor’s funeral was held Thursday at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in San Diego. He has also been submitted for an award for his actions the day he died.

Blackfive has more on this great man:

SEAL Team THREE deployed to Iraq last Spring and within a month of arriving, Mike had already distinguished himself. As one of the platoon machine gunners, Mike made quite an impression on the battlefield. On May 9, 2006 a teammate was shot in the legs, immobile, and exposed. Suppressing enemy fire with his M60, Mike fought his way to his wounded comrade’s position and dragged him out of the line of fire while maintaining constant pressure on enemy insurgents with his weapon. That action earned him a Silver Star… in the first month of his first deployment.

Fast forward to the final weeks of that deployment and Mike along with two fellow SEALs were occupying an overwatch position on a rooftop in the Mulab district of Ramadi which is basically the most dangerous neighborhood of the most dangerous city in Iraq. A hidden enemy managed to toss a grenade onto the rooftop near the three SEALs, and Mike without hesitation warned his comrades verbally before placing himself in a position to block the lethal blast of the grenade from killing his teammates. One of the SEALs he saved said that Mike’s countenance was completely calm and he showed no fear only resolve. No short timer’s disease infecting this man, he had only a couple of weeks remaining in the deployment and he did not flinch at the moment of truth.

Froggy and others are calling for Michael to be awarded the Medal of Honor, which I fully endorse. I would also like to see Peralta be awarded this honor. The History Channel is doing a special on Peralta soon, but these two men need to be recognized by our Country with our highest award.

Other’s Blogging:

• Blue Crab Boulevard
• Gateway Pundit
• Riehl World View
• The Steel Deal

Sports Illustrated is putting on it Sportsman of the Year award. If you believe that Pat Tillman should be No. 1 then please click on the link and vote.

Tim Layden of SI gives a few reasons why he should be Number 1.

“Ask yourself, what is a sportsman? I submit that a sportsman is someone who plays games for the joy of playing them and nothing more. Not for fame. Not for money. He plays because in the games he finds a primal happiness. I didn’t know Pat Tillman well, but I knew him a little and I talked to people about him. By this definition, he was the ultimate sportsman for this or any other year.

As a high school football player, he once kept re-entering a blowout until the coaching staff hid his helmet so that he could play no more. He didn’t want to humiliate anybody, he just wanted to keep playing. He came to Arizona State as a far-too-small strong safety and before two-a-days were finished in his freshman year the upperclassman had nicknamed him “Hit Man” because of the way he threw his body around.

When I interviewed him at the end of the his senior season, he was loathe to talk about his athletic or academic honors because he’d feared he’d become complacent. When I asked Snyder back then if Tillman could play in the NFL, he said, “When teams ask me, I say, ‘If you don’t want him on your team, don’t draft him, because he won’t let you cut him.’”

When the St. Louis Rams offered him a huge raise, he turned it down to stay in Phoenix because it wasn’t about the money. When he felt a stirring in his soul to go fight wars, he left football because football was no longer enough. It was just a sport.

People play sports for all of the wrong reasons. Little children play because their parents foolishly imagine themselves freed from paying for college because their little boy or girl will win a scholarship. Grown children play because they foolishly imagine themselves fabulously wealthy, hosting a televised tour of the their mansion. Even those who hit the sports lottery drain the joy from the games, playing only for fringe benefits. There’s precious little joy in any of this.

Pat Tillman played football because he loved it with a child’s passion. As a kid, he used to climb slender trees in windstorms and sway on the breeze. He played football the same way and when he found something more important, he moved on. That’s a sportsman. That’s my Sportsman of the Year. And he would probably hate that, too.”

Thanks to Blackfive for bringing this up.

I heard about this incident this morning on the way to work and got choked up. This Marine, a Mexican Immigrant who loved his new country so much he signed up to fight for it, placed his body on top of a grenade to save his buddies.

FALLUJAH, Iraq — Sgt. Rafael Peralta built a reputation as a man who always put his Marines’ interests ahead of his own.

He showed that again, when he made the ultimate sacrifice of his life Tuesday, by shielding his fellow Marines from a grenade blast.

“It’s stuff you hear about in boot camp, about World War II and Tarawa Marines who won the Medal of Honor,” said Lance Cpl. Rob Rogers, 22, of Tallahassee, Fla., one of Peralta’s platoon mates in 1st Platoon, Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment.

Peralta, 25, as platoon scout, wasn’t even assigned to the assault team that entered the insurgent safe house in northern Fallujah, Marines said. Despite an assignment that would have allowed him to avoid such dangerous duty, he regularly asked squad leaders if he could join their assault teams, they said.

One of the first Marines to enter the house, Peralta was wounded in the face by rifle fire from a room near the entry door, said Lance Cpl. Adam Morrison, 20, of Tacoma, who was in the house when Peralta was first wounded.

Moments later, an insurgent rolled a fragmentation grenade into the area where a wounded Peralta and the other Marines were seeking cover.

As Morrison and another Marine scrambled to escape the blast, pounding against a locked door, Peralta grabbed the grenade and cradled it into his body, Morrison said. While one Marine was badly wounded by shrapnel from the blast, the Marines said they believe more lives would have been lost if not for Peralta’s selfless act.

“He saved half my fire team,” said Cpl. Brannon Dyer, 27, of Blairsville, Ga.

The Marines said such a sacrifice would be perfectly in character for Peralta, a Mexico native who lived in San Diego and gained U.S. citizenship after joining the Marines.

“He’d stand up for his Marines to an insane point,” Rogers said.

Rogers and others remembered Peralta as a squared-away Marine, so meticulous about uniform standards that he sent his camouflage uniform to be pressed while training in Kuwait before entering Iraq.

But mostly they remembered acts of selflessness: offering career advice, giving a buddy a ride home from the bar, teaching salsa dance steps in the barracks.

While Alpha Company was still gathering information, and a formal finding on Peralta’s death is likely months away, not a single Marine in Alpha Company doubted the account of Peralta’s act of sacrifice.

“I believe it,” said Alpha’s commander, Capt. Lee Johnson. “He was that kind of Marine.”

I have so many mixed feelings right now. I’m proud of his bravery, he didn’t hesitate to die so that his buddies might live. Then there are the feelings of anger towards the terrorists who caused this, to the left wing idiots who think they know about life while drinking there Vente Cappuccino…and could care less about this Marine. I will raise a toast to Sgt. Rafael Peralta tonight.

UPDATE – 12/5/04

Above is a picture of this true hero plus the below information from Lance Cpl. T. J. Kaemmerer, a combat correspondent:

“You’re still here, don’t forget that. Tell your kids, your grandkids, what Sgt. Peralta did for you and the other Marines today,” said Cpl. Richard A. Mason, to a group of Marines after a fierce firefight in the battle-scarred city of Fallujah.

I am attached to Company A, 1st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, for Operation Al Fajr. My job is to tell the stories of the heroic actions and daily realities faced by Mason and the rest of Co. A, 1/3, during Operation Al Fajr. The most telling story of that operation was the heroics of Sgt. Rafael Peralta.

I normally have to interview Marines to get the full story, but on Nov. 15 I witnessed for myself Peralta’s selfless act of heroism, the likes of which generations of Marines have heard about, but so few have actually experienced.

With the batteries to my camera dead, I decided to leave it behind and live up to the ethos that “every Marine is a rifleman” by volunteering to help clear the buildings that lined the streets of Fallujah.

I was the third man in a six-man group, or what Marines refer to as a “stack.” Two stacks of Marines were used to clear a house. Moving quickly from the third house to the fourth, our order in the stack changed. I found Peralta in my spot, so I fell in behind him as we moved toward the house.

Peralta was a platoon scout, which meant he could have stayed back in safety while the squads of 1st Platoon went into the danger-filled streets, but he was constantly asking to help out. I learned by speaking with Peralta and other Marines the night before that he frequently put his safety, reputation and career on the line for the needs and morale of the junior Marines around him.

When we reached the fourth house, we breached the gate and swiftly approached the building. The first Marine in the stack kicked in the front door, revealing another locked door to the front and another to the right.

Kicking in the doors simultaneously, one stack filed swiftly into the room to the front as the other group of Marines darted off to the right.

After successfully clearing the front rooms in the house, we met up to clear the back room of the house.

Two Marines stacked to the left of the door as Peralta, rifle in hand, tested the handle. I watched from the middle, slightly off to the right of the room as the handle turned with ease.

Peralta threw open the door and was met by gunfire from three insurgents.

Peralta was hit several times in his upper torso and face at point-blank range by the fully automatic 7.62 mm weapons employed by the three terrorists.

Mortally wounded, he jumped into the already cleared adjoining room, giving the rest of us a clear line of fire through the doorway to the rear of the house.

We opened fire, adding the bangs of our M-16A2 service rifles and the deafening, rolling cracks of a Squad Automatic Weapon to the already nerve-racking sound of the AKs.

I saw four Marines firing from the adjoining room when a yellow, foreign-made, oval-shaped grenade bounced into the room and rolled to a stop close to Peralta’s wrecked body.

In his last fleeting moments of consciousness, Peralta reached out and pulled the grenade into his body.

The four Marines scrambled to the corners of the room as the majority of the blast was absorbed by Peralta’s now lifeless mass. His selflessness left the four Marines with only minor injuries from smaller fragments of the grenade.

During the fight, a fire was sparked in the rear of the house, and the flames grew.

The Marine in charge of the squad ordered us to evacuate the injured Marines from the house, regroup and return to finish the fight and retrieve Peralta’s body.

We quickly ran for shelter, three or four houses up the street, to a house that had already been cleared and was occupied by the squad’s platoon.

The ingrained code that Marines have of never leaving a man behind drove the next few moments. Within seconds, we headed back to the house, not knowing what we may encounter, yet ready for another round.

I don’t remember walking back down the street or through the gate in front of the house. When we walked through the door the second time, I prayed that we wouldn’t lose another brother.

We entered the house and met no resistance. We couldn’t clear the rest of the house because the fire had grown immensely, and the danger of the enemy’s weapons cache exploding in the house was increasing by the second.

Most of us provided security while Peralta’s body was removed from the house.

We carried him back to our rally point and upon returning were told that other Marines who went to support us encountered and killed the three insurgents from inside the house.

Throughout Operation Al Fajr, we were constantly told by our leadership that we were making history, but even if the history books never mention this battle and Peralta’s heroism, I’m sure that Nov. 15, 2004 and Peralta’s sacrifice will never be forgotten by the Marines who were there.

Chris Matthews, that idiot talking head over at MSNBC, said yesterday about the terrorists we fought in Fallujah “a rival, I mean they’re not bad guys especially, just people who just disagree with us”….this just amazes me, the complete idiocy of this waste of human sperm. These are the same terrorists blowing up families, chopping off heads of civilians, and the complete disregard for any human life and they just disagree with us?

Tell that to the family of Margaret Hassan, the school teacher who was brutally tortured and then slaughtered by these same guys, they ain’t so bad are they Chris Matthews? This women who was known for her 30 years of work in Iraq, distributing medicine, food and supplies to Iraqis suffering under the sanctions of the 1990s.

British officials say they believe Hassan was a blindfolded woman seen being shot in the head by a hooded militant on a video obtained but not aired by the Arab television station Al-Jazeera. She would be the first foreign woman to die in the wave of kidnappings in Iraq. No group has claimed responsibility.

On Sunday, Marines found the mutilated body of what they believe was a Western woman on a street in Fallujah during the U.S. assault on the insurgent stronghold. The body, clothed in what appeared to be a purple, velour dress, was wrapped in a blanket, with a blood-soaked black cloth nearby. As of Tuesday night, the U.S. command said the body had not been identified.

These are the reasons that none of these mothereffers should ever see the light of day…they need to be all lined up and shot. Torturing this poor women for what? WHAT? And we should treat them as enemy soldiers under the Geneva Convention. Last I remember the convention applies to countries that signed the document and the two countries must have standing armies with uniforms….the Iraqi military is at our side, the terrorists are not. Since when are terrorists soldiers? They are lower then dogs.

Finally there is this written by a student of Mrs. Hassan

She was my English teacher

In the memory of my teacher and a fellow aid worker colleague Mrs. M. Hassan

Mrs. Hassan was my English teacher in The British Council in Baghdad in Al-Wazirya district, I remember her years ago with her Irish accent telling me it’s not Important how many words I must learn but the pronunciation of the words I already knew must be perfected.

Mrs. Hassan speak s perfect Arabic and she has a heart of gold, she’s been killed by (men in pajamas), turn Iraq upside down and find them.

The Marines will find them, and when they do they shall die.