3 Vietnam-era vets receive diplomas from Iowa high school some 60 years after they enlisted
Vietnam War-era vets Robert David Holliday, Richard Hill and Dennis Snyder were all honored last week during the pomp and circumstance at Muscatine High School.
'Getting it now, I look back and I think, 'Well, everything that I did with the service and everything was all worth it,'' Snyder told WQAD. 'Being here today is really, really worth it.'
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3 Vietnam War-era veterans Dennis Snyder and Richard Hill were the first to walk during the ceremony and receive their diplomas.
Muscatine
He recalled the stream of emotions when he found out he was getting the memento.
'I couldn't believe it,' Snyder, 78, said in an interview with KWQC.
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'I told my wife, and she said, 'What?' Of course, she started crying right away. I was just shocked.'
Snyder and Hill, 81, were the first of more than 300 graduates to walk across the stage at Sunday's ceremony – with the two receiving a raucous round of applause.
3 Muscatine High School's graduation happened on Sunday.
KWQC
The pair both grew up in Muscatine, which is about 35 miles from Iowa City, and Snyder even attended the high school until he left classes to enlist at 17 years old.
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Snyder served in the Navy from 1961 to 1965 and was stationed in Pearl Harbor, while Hill's deployment to Vietnam came to an end in 1969.
'I don't know how to accept it, you know, because I didn't get a chance, going through school,' Hill told WQAD.
3 Robert Holliday, 85, was given his diploma at home.
x/MuscatineCSD
Holliday, 85, wasn't at the graduation, but he was also recognized on May 14 when school officials presented him with his diploma at home surrounded by family.
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The veteran would have graduated in 1958, but left school early to join the US Army Corps of Engineers, where he served in Vietnam between 1959 and 1961, according to WQAD.
He also served in the Netherlands, Denmark, France and Germany.
Eight veterans with ties to Muscatine have received their diplomas over the past three years, the county's veterans' affairs agency said.
'I'm just so excited that he was able to get this opportunity,' said Snyder's daughter Julie Lerch, according to KWQC, 'and then he could have the entire grandstand and the entire graduating class behind him.'
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Los Angeles Times
14 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
‘This fire could have been prevented': How utilities fought removal of old power lines
The abandoned power line suspected of igniting the Eaton fire could have been removed years ago under a rule proposed by state Public Utilities Commission staffers, but the regulation was weakened amid opposition from Southern California Edison and other utilities, according to records and interviews. State regulators have long known that old transmission lines could set off wildfires, and in 2001 they proposed a safety rule that would have forced Edison and other electric companies to remove abandoned lines unless they could prove they would use them in the future. Amid opposition from the utility companies, the Public Utilities Commission studied the proposal for several years, ultimately watering it down to allow the old lines to remain up until executives decided they were 'permanently abandoned,' records show. One of those old transmission lines, Edison's Mesa-Sylmar line that last saw service during the Vietnam War, is at the center of dozens of lawsuits claiming it ignited the devastating Eaton fire on Jan. 7. The inferno roared through Altadena, killing 19 people and destroying 9,400 homes and other structures. Edison has said a leading theory of the fire's cause is that the century-old line somehow briefly re-energized, creating an arc that sparked the wildfire. The investigation is continuing. Raffy Stepanian, an electrical engineer who was part of the commission's safety team that proposed the 2001 rule to take down abandoned lines, said commission members dialed back the regulation under fierce lobbying by the state's utilities. 'There was a lot of pressure on us to agree with utilities on everything,' Stepanian said, adding that the utilities 'pretty much wrote those rules.' Now retired from the commission, Stepanian lives in Altadena. His house survived the Eaton fire, but homes adjoining his property were destroyed. 'This fire could have been prevented,' he said. Edison, responding to questions from The Times, said the company kept the Mesa-Sylmar transmission line in place because it thought it might need the line in the future. It last transported electricity in 1971. 'We have these inactive lines still available because there is a reasonable chance we're going to use them in the future,' said Shinjini Menon, Edison's senior vice president of system planning and engineering. Menon said the company inspects and maintains the dormant lines to ensure their safety. Loretta Lynch, the commission's president in 2001 when the changes were proposed, said she remembers the safety staff coming to her and explaining why the rules needed to be strengthened. But the effort met with resistance from utility executives, she said. Ultimately, the commission allowed the utilities to debate the rules at dozens of workshops over two years. The weakened proposal was approved in 2005, less than two weeks after Lynch's term had expired. Lynch's departure left just three people on the five-member commission, which was chaired by Michael Peevey, the former president of Edison International, Southern California Edison's parent company. 'The folks who were trying to improve safety got pulled into a back room with a bunch of industry participants and what happened was a final decision that rolled back safety regulations,' Lynch said. In an interview this week, Peevey acknowledged that in the hindsight of 20 years, a time when utilities have repeatedly sparked some of the biggest wildfires in the state, the commission might have acted differently. 'If we knew then what we know now, perhaps we would have come to a different conclusion,' he said. The other commissioners who approved the rule were Susan Kennedy, who was chief of staff for former Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Geoffrey Brown, an attorney and cousin of former Gov. Jerry Brown. Brown said he couldn't recall the details of the vote. Kennedy had no immediate comment. In the years since the commission's 2005 decision, abandoned power lines have continued to pose a threat, with hundreds of miles of the unused transmission lines running like spider webs through California. In 2019, investigators traced the Kincade fire in Sonoma County, which destroyed 374 homes and other structures, to an abandoned line owned by Pacific Gas & Electric. After the Eaton fire, PUC executive director Rachel Peterson was called before the Assembly Utilities and Energy Committee to address how the agency monitors abandoned power lines. 'If we wanted to know where all of the inactive lines are, is there a place where we can get that information?' asked Assemblywoman Rhodesia Ransom (D-Tracy). 'Not as of today, Assemblymember,' Peterson replied. 'And I would, I guess, I'd say in part because the service territories are so large and the pieces of equipment are so numerous that a registry of a specific element may or may not exist. However, we'll take that back and look at it.' 'Is there a timeline requirement for them to remove abandoned lines?' asked Assemblywoman Pilar Schiavo (D-Santa Clarita). 'There's no timeline,' Peterson responded. Terrie Prosper, a commission spokeswoman, wrote in an email that the commission expects the companies to inspect and safely maintain the dormant lines just as it does for those that are energized. 'Requiring utilities to remove power lines prematurely … would be shortsighted and could significantly raise bills for utility customers,' Prosper wrote. She declined to make officials available for interviews. Edison said earlier this year that the unused transmission line in Eaton Canyon may have become energized through induction, a process where magnetic fields created by nearby live lines cause the dormant line to electrify. The company built two transmission lines that run parallel to the dormant Mesa-Sylmar line. They were energized when videos captured the Eaton fire igniting under one of the Mesa-Sylmar transmission towers. After the 2019 Kincade fire, PG&E said it had agreed with the commission to remove 262 miles of lines that had no future use. The company said it would prioritize the removal of those where the risk of induction was high. 'At the right conditions, failing idle facilities can pose significant wildfire and safety risks,' PG&E wrote in its plan to remove the lines. Edison says it has 465 miles of idle transmission lines in its territory. Kathleen Dunleavy, an Edison spokeswoman, said the company could not release the locations of those lines because it was 'considered confidential.' How to define 'abandoned' State utility rules have long stated that 'permanently abandoned' lines must be removed so they 'shall not become a public nuisance or a hazard to life or property.' But utilities and commission safety staff sometimes disagreed on what lines had been abandoned. In 2001, when the commission and its staff proposed strengthening the rule, Edison was challenging the agency's finding that it had violated it by failing to remove an electric line at a Lancaster home that had been demolished. A man who Edison said was attempting to steal equipment had climbed the pole and been electrocuted, according to commission documents. Edison told the safety staff that it had a pending order for service to be re-installed to the property, arguing it was not abandoned. Staff later discovered there was no such work order, according to the commission's investigation into the death. To strengthen the rule, the commission said in a January 2001 order that it would define permanently abandoned lines as any line out of service 'unless the owner can demonstrate with appropriate documentation' how it would be used in the future. Edison and other utilities objected to that proposal and a dozen other rule changes the commission had proposed, asking for the plan to be debated at a workshop, documents show. Ultimately, an administrative law judge at the commission allowed 50 days of workshops over the course of two years. The judge also allowed Edison and other utilities to pay $180,000 to choose and hire a consultant to facilitate the workshops, according to commission documents. The goal of the workshops, according to a commission document, was 'to gather parties' views and attempt to narrow disagreement.' At the workshops, one or two of the commission's safety staff defended the proposal while listening to comments from dozens of employees from the electric utilities and the telecommunications companies, according to an utility industry website that kept executives apprised of the developments. The companies did not just want to debate the commission's proposed rule changes. Documents show the companies suggested 50 other changes to the safety rules, including some that would significantly weaken them. Lynch, the former commission president, called the workshops 'the worst way to go about fact-finding on what is needed to ensure safety' and said the utility-paid facilitator had 'unheard of' powers in drafting the workshop notes, which were incorporated into the commission's final decision. In the final wording, gone from the proposal was any requirement for utilities to document how they planned to use dormant lines in the future. Instead the language revised the rule to define permanently abandoned lines as those 'that are determined by their owner to have no foreseeable future use.' With that definition, utilities could keep their old unused lines up indefinitely if executives believed they might be used in the future. The commission's vote 'perverted the entire intent' of the proposal meant to strengthen the rules, Lynch said. Instead the commission's final decision reduced safety requirements. 'It's very Orwellian,' she said. 'Up is down.' In an interview in July, Connor Flanigan, Edison's managing director of state regulatory operations, pointed out that commission staff had been given the power to block a company proposal at the workshops, which were open to the public. 'When the commission holds these proceedings, they try to be very transparent,' he said. The document outlining the commission's final decision includes quotes from Edison executives praising the workshop process. 'Like most parties, SCE achieved some, but not all, of the rule changes it sought,' the executives said.
New York Post
2 days ago
- New York Post
‘Chamber of horrors' being exhumed at Ireland mass baby grave at former home run by nuns
Only one stone wall remains of the old mother and baby home in this town, but it has cast a shadow over all of Ireland. A mass grave that could hold up to nearly 800 infants and young children — some of it in a defunct septic tank — is being excavated on the grounds of the former home run by the Bon Secours Sisters, an order of nuns. The burial site has forced Ireland and the Catholic Church — long central to its identity — to reckon with a legacy of having shunned unmarried mothers and separated them from their children left at the mercy of a cruel system. 5 Work begins on the excavation of the former Bon Secours Mother and Baby Home site on June 16, 2025, in Tuam, Ireland. Getty Images The grave was accidentally discovered by two boys a half century ago. But the true horror of the place was not known until a local historian began digging into the home's history. Catherine Corless revealed that the site was atop a septic tank and that 796 deceased infants were unaccounted for. Her findings caused a scandal when the international news media wrote about her work in 2014. When test excavations later confirmed an untold number of tiny skeletons were in the sewage pit, then-Prime Minister Enda Kenny called it a 'chamber of horrors.' Pope Francis later apologized for the church's 'crimes' that included forced separations of unwed mothers and children. The nuns apologized for not living up to their Christianity. A cold, cramped and deadly place The homes were not unique to Ireland and followed a Victorian-era practice of institutionalizing the poor, troubled and neglected children, and unmarried mothers. The Tuam home was cold, crowded and deadly. Mothers worked there for up to a year before being cast out — almost always without their children. 5 The entrance to the site of a mass grave of hundreds of children who died in the former Bons Secours home for unmarried mothers is seen in Tuam, County Galway on June 4, 2014. REUTERS Corless' report led to a government investigation that found 9,000 children, or 15%, died in mother and baby homes in the 20th century. The Tuam home — open from 1925 to 1961 — had the highest death rate. Corless said she was driven to expose the story 'the more I realized how those poor, unfortunate, vulnerable kids, through no fault of their own, had to go through this life.' Discovering deeply held secrets Corless' work brought together survivors of the homes and children who discovered their own mothers had given birth to long-lost relatives who died there. Annette McKay said there's still a level of denial about the abuse, rape and incest that led some women to the homes while fathers were not held accountable. 'They say things like the women were incarcerated and enslaved for being pregnant,' McKay said. 'Well, how did they get pregnant? Was it like an immaculate conception?' Her mother ended up in the home after being raped as a teenager by the caretaker of the industrial school where she had been sentenced for 'delinquency' after her mother died and father, a British soldier, abdicated responsibility. Her mother, Margaret 'Maggie' O'Connor, only revealed her secret when she was in her 70s, sobbing hysterically when the story finally came out. Six months after giving birth in Tuam in 1942, O'Connor was hanging laundry at another home where she had been transferred when a nun told her, 'the child of your sin is dead.' She never spoke of it again. 5 Catherine Corless, who revealed that remains of nearly 800 dead infants from a mother and baby home in Tuam, Ireland, were unaccounted for and likely buried in a mass grave, reviews her records at her home outside Tuam on Tuesday, July 8, 2025. AP Some 20 years later, a Sunday newspaper headline about a 'shock discovery' in Tuam caught McKay's attention. Among the names was her long-lost sister, Mary Margaret O'Connor, who died in 1943. Shame's long shadow Barbara Buckley was born in the Tuam home in 1957 and was 19 months old when she was adopted by a family in Cork. She was an adult when a cousin told her she'd been adopted and was later able to find her birth mother through an agency. Her mother came to visit from London for two days in 2000 and happened to be there on her 43rd birthday, though she didn't realize it. 'I found it very hard to understand, how did she not know it was my birthday?' Buckley said. 'Delving deep into the thoughts of the mothers, you know, they put it so far back. They weren't dealing with it anymore.' 5 Corless points on a map at her home outside Tuam on Tuesday, July 8, 2025. AP She said her mother had worked in the laundry and was sent away after a year, despite asking to stay longer. Her lasting memory of the place was only being able to see the sky above the high walls. At the end of their visit, her mother told her it had been lovely to meet her and her family, but said she'd never see her again. Buckley was devastated at the rejection and asked why. 'She said, 'I don't want anyone finding out about this,'' Buckley said. 'Going back to 1957 — and it was still a dark secret.' 5 Corless' report led to a government investigation that found 9,000 children, or 15%, died in mother and baby homes in the 20th century. The Tuam home — open from 1925 to 1961 — had the highest death rate. AP Luck of the Irish Pete Cochran considers himself one of the lucky ones. He was 16 months old when he got out of the home and was adopted by a family in the U.S., where he avoided the stigma that would have dogged him as a so-called illegitimate child in his homeland. During his visit to Tuam before the dig began, a man from town told him at a bar: 'I respect you now, but growing up, I used to spit on you because that's what I was taught.' Cochran hopes the dig turns up few remains. 'I hope they don't find 796 bodies,' he said. 'That all these children were adopted and had a good life like I did.' McKay has had the same hope for her sister. But even if they found a thimble full of her remains, she'd like to reunite her with her mom, who died in 2016. 'The headstone hasn't got my mother's name on it because I fought everybody to say I refuse to put my mom's name on until she can have her child with her,' McKay said.
Hamilton Spectator
2 days ago
- Hamilton Spectator
‘Chamber of horrors' being exhumed at Ireland mass baby grave
TUAM, Ireland (AP) — Only one stone wall remains of the old mother and baby home in this town, but it has cast a shadow over all of Ireland. A mass grave that could hold up to nearly 800 infants and young children — some of it in a defunct septic tank — is being excavated on the grounds of the former home run by the Bon Secours Sisters, an order of nuns. The burial site has forced Ireland and the Catholic Church — long central to its identity — to reckon with a legacy of having shunned unmarried mothers and separated them from their children left at the mercy of a cruel system . The grave was accidentally discovered by two boys a half century ago. But the true horror of the place was not known until a local historian began digging into the home's history. Catherine Corless revealed that the site was atop a septic tank and that 796 deceased infants were unaccounted for. Her findings caused a scandal when the international news media wrote about her work in 2014. When test excavations later confirmed an untold number of tiny skeletons were in the sewage pit, then-Prime Minister Enda Kenny called it a 'chamber of horrors.' Pope Francis later apologized for the church's 'crimes' that included forced separations of unwed mothers and children. The nuns apologized for not living up to their Christianity. A cold, cramped and deadly place The homes were not unique to Ireland and followed a Victorian-era practice of institutionalizing the poor, troubled and neglected children, and unmarried mothers. The Tuam home was cold, crowded and deadly. Mothers worked there for up to a year before being cast out — almost always without their children. Corless' report led to a government investigation that found 9,000 children, or 15%, died in mother and baby homes in the 20th century. The Tuam home — open from 1925 to 1961 — had the highest death rate. Corless said she was driven to expose the story 'the more I realized how those poor, unfortunate, vulnerable kids, through no fault of their own, had to go through this life.' Discovering deeply held secrets Corless' work brought together survivors of the homes and children who discovered their own mothers had given birth to long-lost relatives who died there. Annette McKay said there's still a level of denial about the abuse, rape and incest that led some women to the homes while fathers were not held accountable. 'They say things like the women were incarcerated and enslaved for being pregnant,' McKay said. 'Well, how did they get pregnant? Was it like an immaculate conception?' Her mother ended up in the home after being raped as a teenager by the caretaker of the industrial school where she had been sentenced for 'delinquency' after her mother died and father, a British soldier, abdicated responsibility. Her mother, Margaret 'Maggie' O'Connor, only revealed her secret when she was in her 70s, sobbing hysterically when the story finally came out. Six months after giving birth in Tuam in 1942, O'Connor was hanging laundry at another home where she had been transferred when a nun told her, 'the child of your sin is dead.' She never spoke of it again. Some 20 years later, a Sunday newspaper headline about a 'shock discovery' in Tuam caught McKay's attention. Among the names was her long-lost sister, Mary Margaret O'Connor, who died in 1943. Shame's long shadow Barbara Buckley was born in the Tuam home in 1957 and was 19 months old when she was adopted by a family in Cork. She was an adult when a cousin told her she'd been adopted and was later able to find her birth mother through an agency. Her mother came to visit from London for two days in 2000 and happened to be there on her 43rd birthday, though she didn't realize it. 'I found it very hard to understand, how did she not know it was my birthday?' Buckley said. 'Delving deep into the thoughts of the mothers, you know, they put it so far back. They weren't dealing with it anymore.' She said her mother had worked in the laundry and was sent away after a year, despite asking to stay longer. Her lasting memory of the place was only being able to see the sky above the high walls. At the end of their visit, her mother told her it had been lovely to meet her and her family, but said she'd never see her again. Buckley was devastated at the rejection and asked why. 'She said, 'I don't want anyone finding out about this,'' Buckley said. 'Going back to 1957 — and it was still a dark secret.' Luck of the Irish Pete Cochran considers himself one of the lucky ones. He was 16 months old when he got out of the home and was adopted by a family in the U.S., where he avoided the stigma that would have dogged him as a so-called illegitimate child in his homeland. During his visit to Tuam before the dig began, a man from town told him at a bar: 'I respect you now, but growing up, I used to spit on you because that's what I was taught.' Cochran hopes the dig turns up few remains. 'I hope they don't find 796 bodies,' he said. 'That all these children were adopted and had a good life like I did.' McKay has had the same hope for her sister. But even if they found a thimble full of her remains, she'd like to reunite her with her mom, who died in 2016. 'The headstone hasn't got my mother's name on it because I fought everybody to say I refuse to put my mom's name on until she can have her child with her,' McKay said. ___ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. 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