Bari Weiss: "...by this time, some of you felt like you're going through the early stages of the Helsinki Syndrome..."
Scott Pelley, interrupting: "As in Helsinki, Sweden."
Weiss: "Finland."
Anyone who legitimately knows that they will be unavailable to vote in person on Election Day should be responsible for ensuring that the ballot arrives on time.
If you tell the disabled and military the ballot has to be in by Election Day, they’ll get it done. It’s telling that only one side is pushing mail-in voting and is against voter ID
The mic toss at the end.
On a serious note this is what is radicalizing a large part of the country that normally just took things at face value when presented by the experts and the media. When things are so blatantly obvious and the answer is always, "Oh you're not presenting truth, you're not presenting evidence," that kind of recursive bad faith arguing is just not going to work. Fact of the matter is it is on the state of California and institutions as a whole to build faith and trust. It is not on the people who use and rely on those institutions to restore and build trust.
There's a small and probably a very fast closing window to hammer this message and expose what is happening between now and November.
The mistake that those in power made during COVID was that the truth wouldn't get out. It did. They are trying to make that mistake again. We should allow them and show the American people the truth.
The WNBA is NOT a business. It's 501c3 tax write-off for billionaire sports owners. It's a charity designed to fund feminism, black racial idolatry and the LGBTQ. It has never cared about turning a profit. It's a charity globalists finance.
If you’ve never watched it, tonight is the night to watch the greatest series in television history. Forget the Sopranos. Forget The Wire. Forget Breaking Bad….
Band of Brothers
Make your sons watch it,
Tonight, as I do every year at this time, I’ll be raising a glass to a scared young man, who 82 years ago was preparing to go ashore on the beaches of Normandy as part of an event code-named Operation Overlord.
D-Day.
I can’t imagine what was going through his mind. I’d be scared to death and I’m sure he was too. But in that first wave was a 21-year-old Private First Class from Henry County, VA by the name of Allen Homer Sink.
Fortunately, he would survive that initial wave, participate in battle until it ended in August, then come home to marry and raise a family of four, including two daughters after the war ended.
He would also become my father-in-law until his death in 2006.
His nickname for some reason was “Hank” and when I asked him how he got it, he said some guy in the Army said he “looked like a Hank.” From the time I first met him, he was a salt-of-the-earth man who was never afraid of anything. He was a carpenter by trade, and he’d stand up on the tallest roofs, grab bumblebees with his bare hands when they tried to persuade him to move elsewhere, and never be bothered by anything.
His hands were tough and leathery, but he was a softie. He spoiled his children, complained when my mother-in-law would gripe about something involving one of his alleged misdeeds, and always thought he was fooling everybody when he snuck around the back of the house and lit a cigarette, a habit everyone opposed but he could never part himself from.
He could talk your ear off for hours at a time, and I always suggested he become a greeter at Wal-Mart when he retired because then he could talk all day to strangers and none of them would – like his wife and daughters often did – tell him to be quiet for a few moments. Yet for all his love of talking, there was one subject he just wouldn’t discuss.
June 6, 1944. Omaha Beach.
In 1998, when he was 76 years old, the subject came up again. The movie “Saving Private Ryan” came out and the beginning was gruesome. Reviews said it was incredibly realistic to what really happened that day. I asked Hank if he wanted to go see it.
“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t ever want to see any of that again.”
He did offer that he remembered the night before when troops were loaded into the boats for the amphibious assault. He said it was raining and that once everyone was in place, they gave everybody ice cream and told them to try to get some sleep. Then the next thing he knew, they were waking everybody up telling them to stay low and head for the beach.
No, that doesn’t sound like somebody drugged the ice cream. Not at all.
That’s all he would say about the subject, and he never said another word about it until the final months of his life. Alzheimer’s would gradually rob him of his mind, and as his condition deteriorated, memories of the past would briefly spill out. One evening he thought I was his commanding officer and he was back at Normandy. It is the only time I ever saw him where he appeared to be scared. Ever.
It reminds me every day of something I had unknowingly taken for granted. The greatest generation did fight in and win World War II, then did incredible things over the next 50 to 60 years after the war. But many carried unspeakable memories from the War, ones they would never talk about and carry inside them to their graves. Those veterans lost a piece of themselves in battle they would never, ever, get back.
I mean, how can you at the tender age of 21 storm a beach, see friends die only a few feet from you, wonder each night if you will wake up alive the next morning and then return home a year later and try to pick up on the same normal life you had before you left? I told him once that after seeing “Saving Private Ryan”, I understood why he was never afraid of anything; after you’ve made it through something like that, everything else pales in comparison.
So tonight, I raise a glass to Hank and the 150,000-plus men, who like my father-in-law, were very young, very scared, and still charged that beach, paying a price that even for the survivors would last the rest of their days.
Rest In Peace...
I know the career shift hasn’t worked out well for everyone —
Joy Reid
Jim Acosta
Keith Olbermann
Terry Moran
Chuck Todd
Chris Wallace
But Scott Pelley is different!
He is a hot commodity.
You just wait.