The Dave Bowman Show

The first time you hear the name Fishdam Ford you might think it is a misprint, a sleepy bend of river that could not possibly matter to the great gears of the Revolution. That mistake is how men get ambushed. The place sits near the Broad River in the South Carolina backcountry, a patch of woods and water that, in November of 1780, held the difference between a militia that learned from its scars and a British raiding column that believed the old tricks would always work. In the early hours of November 9 the British tried to pounce on a sleeping camp. Instead they rode into a cold ring of firelight, where their silhouettes were as plain as church windows and the men they thought were snoring had already slid into the shadows with loaded muskets. Twenty minutes later the British line fell apart, their commander lay bleeding on the ground, and the militia that had been mocked as rabble stood grinning in the trees. If you are looking for the moment when the Southern war’s momentum shifted from red to homespun gray and butternut, you could do worse than to start here.

It was one of those moments in history when the nation’s pulse quickened, when politics felt less like policy and more like destiny. The year was 1960, and America stood at the threshold of a new decade, restless from recession, confident in its prosperity, but haunted by the long shadow of the Cold War. Out of that tension rose two men who would define a generation’s choice between continuity and change: John Fitzgerald Kennedy and Richard Milhous Nixon.

The year was 1775, and Virginia stood at the edge of a storm. In the calm before revolution turned to full war, one British governor, an imperious Scotsman named John Murray, Fourth Earl of Dunmore, issued a decree that would send shockwaves through the colonies and echo across centuries. From the deck of a British warship anchored off Norfolk, Lord Dunmore declared martial law in the colony of Virginia. More explosively, he promised freedom to “all indentured servants, Negroes, or others, appertaining to Rebels,” who would bear arms for the King. It was November 7, 1775, and in one stroke of the pen, Dunmore transformed the struggle for American liberty into a crisis of freedom itself.

In the years after World War II, the U.S. Navy faced a new kind of threat. The kamikazes were gone, but the sky itself had become the enemy. Long before satellites and airborne warning planes, the Navy turned to an unlikely solution. It pulled its old fleet submarines out of mothballs and refitted them with radar, turning hunters of the deep into sentinels of the sky. These were the radar picket submarines, known by the mysterious designation SSR. They formed a short but fascinating chapter in Cold War history, watching for danger from beneath the waves. In this episode, we’ll explore how the program called Project Migraine transformed boats like USS Requin and USS Burrfish into the Navy’s earliest early-warning systems. It’s the story of ingenuity, frustration, and adaptation in an age when America’s eyes had to look not just across the seas, but far above them.

It was the night the U.S. Navy took back the darkness. On October 11, 1942, off Cape Esperance near Guadalcanal, Rear Admiral Norman Scott led a small task force into waters already littered with wreckage from earlier defeats. His orders were clear: protect the convoy, challenge the Japanese, and prove that America could fight—and win—at night. What followed was chaos and courage in equal measure. A radar misunderstanding opened the battle, unleashing a storm of gunfire that tore into the Japanese column. The destroyer Duncan charged alone. The cruiser Boise took a shell to her forward magazines and refused to die. By dawn, one Japanese heavy cruiser and two destroyers were gone, and the Americans had their first clean victory of the Pacific night war. It was brutal, it was costly, and it was exactly what the fleet needed. This is the Battle of Cape Esperance.

Welcome back to What The Frock, where faith meets foolishness and caffeine meets chaos. This week, Rabbi Dave and Friar Rod are running on fumes, sarcasm, and coffee strong enough to qualify as a controlled substance. Rod has just returned from a cybersecurity conference in Vegas, and Dave is preparing for shoulder surgery while trying to do everything left-handed. That includes making coffee, typing, and keeping his house from catching fire. Between time zone conspiracies, Columbus Day controversies, and the eternal mystery of CNN logic, the conversation spins wildly, as always, between the absurd and the oddly profound. Along the way, the boys mark five years of What The Frock, reflect on their ordination, thank their loyal supporters, and muse about faith, sports, and friendship. It is vintage Rabbi Dave and Friar Rod: distracted, hilarious, honest, and completely unfiltered. Tune in and frock on.

In the sixteenth century, when theology could start wars and conscience could get a man killed, Jacobus Arminius dared to question the idea that God’s will left no room for human choice. Born in the war-torn Dutch town of Oudewater on October 10, 1560, Arminius rose from tragedy to become one of Europe’s most provocative theologians. His belief that divine grace invites rather than coerces set him at odds with the rigid Calvinism of his time. He taught that love must be freely returned, that faith cannot be forced, and that God’s justice must be as merciful as it is sovereign. For that, he was condemned in life and immortalized in controversy. Today, his name echoes wherever people wrestle with the tension between destiny and decision. This is the story of a scholar who fought for freedom of the soul when certainty ruled the mind.

But not the Hollywood ending...

It is October 10, 1775, and Norwich can feel the weight of the war pressing closer than ever. Prices rise, faith stretches thin, and the news from Boston and Philadelphia gives as much worry as hope. General Gage has sailed home in disgrace, replaced by the iron-willed General Howe, while Washington clings to his siege lines with more resolve than rations. In Philadelphia, Congress takes a daring step — authorizing the first ships of a Continental Navy, a fleet born more from courage than coin. Across the ocean, King George prepares to brand us as rebels, and Norwich listens for what comes next. Tonight on Revolutionary Talk, we ask what liberty truly costs, what faith it takes to hold a nation together, and whether ordinary people can weather extraordinary times. The Revolution is stirring, and the tide is turning.

Welcome to Revolutionary Talk on WREV 760 AM. It is October 9, 1775, and today the tide quite literally turns. In Philadelphia, the Continental Congress has voted to arm two ships and send them against British supply vessels. Out of quills and parchment, a navy is born. John Adams declared that a nation cannot defend its liberty without command of the sea, and tonight his words begin to take shape in oak and canvas. From small harbors to great rivers, shipwrights and sailors are ready to trade cargo for cannon and turn commerce into courage. While the King in London sharpens his edicts and readies more troops, America quietly builds her first defense. The fleet may be small, but its purpose is vast. Liberty now flies upon the water, and every sail that fills with wind carries the promise that this rebellion has become a revolution.

She was born free in a time when freedom was rare, and she spent her life proving what it truly meant. Mary Ann Shadd Cary was a teacher, journalist, lawyer, and activist who refused to accept the limits placed on her because of her race or her gender. From the Underground Railroad stops of her childhood home in Delaware to the classrooms of Canada West and the editorial desk of The Provincial Freeman, she lived her belief that “self-reliance is the true road to independence.” She taught children to think, challenged men to act, and urged a divided nation to live up to its promises. In this episode, we look at the remarkable life of the first Black woman to publish a newspaper in North America, a fearless voice who reminded us that progress depends on courage, and that real change begins when we do more and talk less.

Welcome to Revolutionary Talk on WREV 760AM. It is October 8, 1775, and General Washington has called a council of war in Cambridge to decide the future of the Continental Army. The debate over numbers and enlistments has turned into a debate over principle. Today, the army ruled that no Black man, free or enslaved, may serve in the ranks. The decision is said to preserve order among the colonies, but it has drawn a line that liberty itself may not cross. From Norwich to Philadelphia, men are asking what freedom truly means if it does not belong to everyone. Tonight, we will look inside that council chamber, where maps and muskets shared the table with fear and compromise. We will hear from those who defend the choice and from those who call it what it is, a betrayal of the very cause we claim to serve.

He was the kind of man who made danger look like routine. Eddie Rickenbacker grew up on the rough streets of Columbus, Ohio, fixing engines and outrunning bad luck. By the time America entered World War I, he was already famous as “Fast Eddie,” a race car driver who understood speed better than fear. When he climbed into a SPAD fighter with the 94th “Hat in the Ring” Squadron, he became the nation’s most decorated ace, claiming twenty-six victories and the Medal of Honor. But his legend didn’t stop when the shooting did. Rickenbacker built cars, ran the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and later turned Eastern Air Lines into an aviation powerhouse. He survived plane crashes, a month adrift in the Pacific, and every test life threw at him. This is the story of America’s original iron man — Captain Eddie Rickenbacker, the man who refused to quit.

Welcome back to Revolutionary Talk on WREV 760AM, Norwich’s voice of the times. It’s October 7, 1775, and the Revolution has just taken a hard blow. In Cambridge, General Washington has uncovered the unthinkable—Dr. Benjamin Church, surgeon general of our own army, has been exposed as a British spy. The man who bound our wounds has been sending our secrets to the enemy. The shock runs deep, and trust runs thin. And while our army reels from betrayal, word reaches us from Boston that General Gage is gone, recalled in disgrace, replaced by the King’s new hammer, General William Howe. London calls him the man to finish this rebellion once and for all. Tonight we’ll ask: who can we trust, and what comes next when treason and tyranny share the same week? Stay tuned. This is Revolutionary Talk, and the war just got personal.

In this episode of Liberty! 250, Dave Bowman joins Bill Mick to explore one of Jefferson’s fiercest grievances: the King’s repeated dissolution of colonial legislatures. From Massachusetts in 1768 to Virginia in 1774, governors slammed the doors on the people’s assemblies, only to find that free men would meet anyway in taverns, churches, and town halls. Dave reveals how this “manly firmness” became the muscle of self-government, the moment when Americans discovered that power could return to the people. The conversation traces how unity was born from defiance, as colonial voices refused to be silenced. Drawing sharp parallels to our own age of political paralysis and government shutdowns, the discussion reminds us that representation is never granted. It must be claimed. The King’s voice is long gone, but his lesson remains. When power fails above, it awakens below.

Prices are climbing, tempers are flaring, and the paper money in our pockets is losing value faster than flour can rise. In today’s episode of Revolutionary Talk, Dave Diamond takes us straight into the heart of colonial frustration. From the markets of Norwich to the farmlands beyond, inflation and British blockades are squeezing every family’s table. Merchants hoard supplies, Congress floods the streets with worthless currency, and whispers spread of corruption within the very army meant to defend liberty. Meanwhile, word from Boston hints that General Gage may be finished, with a new British commander—General Howe—waiting in the wings. As Dave wrestles with loyalist neighbors, rum prices, and his own thinning patience, one truth becomes clear: this Revolution may be about freedom, but it’s being paid for in hard coin, sweat, and sacrifice.

George Westinghouse was a man who refused to settle for “good enough.” Born on October 6, 1846, he became one of America’s greatest inventors and industrialists, a name forever linked with safety, innovation, and light itself. From the invention of the railroad air brake to the creation of the first natural gas distribution system, Westinghouse transformed how the world moved and powered itself. While Thomas Edison fought to keep electricity confined to city blocks, Westinghouse looked to the horizon. By championing alternating current and teaming up with Nikola Tesla, he lit the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair and proved that AC could carry power across miles, changing history forever. In this episode of Dave Does History, we explore the life, work, and vision of the man whose name became a promise: “You can be sure if it’s Westinghouse.” His ideas didn’t just shape an industry. They built the modern world.

Welcome to What The Frock? where reason and ridicule meet over coffee and common sense. This week, Rabbi Dave and Friar Rod tackle three wildly different but strangely connected stories. It begins with the uproar over Netflix and its so-called “transgender agenda,” fueled by Elon Musk and a fifteen billion dollar hit to the company’s value. From there, they turn to Washington’s latest production, the government shutdown that nobody seems to have noticed. Finally, things take a turn for the wild when Dave tells the story of a man in Missouri who was mauled by a bear after sending his family pictures of it. The lesson? The chances of being eaten by a bear are low, but never zero. Join the conversation, laugh at the absurd, and maybe keep your distance from both Netflix and the nearest campground. Listen now at whatthefrock.org

It began with the sound of a drum in the rain. On October 5, 1789, thousands of women left the markets of Paris and marched toward Versailles, hungry, furious, and unafraid. They demanded bread, but what they carried was something far heavier: the voice of a nation on the edge of change. By the end of that march, the King and Queen would no longer rule from their gilded palace. They would be brought to Paris under the eyes of their people, and the balance of power in France would shift forever. The Women’s March on Versailles was not just a protest over hunger. It was the moment when ordinary citizens, led by women, forced the monarchy to face the Revolution it had tried to ignore. This is the story of courage, desperation, and the day the people came for their King.

“The Hunt for Red October,” was released this past week in 1984. To say that there had never been anything like it would be an understatement. It was… amazing.