Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Wondergirl and the Superman Clan



     My wonderful granddaughter Caylie got married. Let me back up and explain to you that I do not use the word wonderful lightly. Read on.
     Caylie has never been your average girl. At four months old, she, along with her mother Christi, survived the unsurvivable; a major car wreck involving multiple rolls and flips, with only scratches and bruises. I measured just how far that car flipped and rolled. One hundred yards.
     God, I think, already had big plans for this baby. And, as a young teen, she was already in the mission fields; she began, early on, paying back God’s investment in her during that one hundred yards straight from Hell event so many years ago. Ever since, she has always been a stern and demanding seat belt enforcer in our family.
     At six, she always got up on her own, fixed her own hair, brushed her teeth, and dressed herself, usually allowing time to read her books before heading off to school. Her parents declared that she only needed adults around in her life to drive her to school and provide a little money. There was just no time in her early years to hold down a full time job, what with Kindergarten and all, but that does not mean she was not capable of it. She always had everything else pretty well under control all by herself. The turbulent teen years just passed her by. They just never happened. Her high standards she always set for herself were etched in stone early on.
     But wait. That’s not all. I’ve been saving the best for last.
     I do not remember ever seeing Caylie angry. I’m sure I must have, common sense would tell you I have. But it’s not in my memory pool. Of course, my memory pool is a bit shallow on both ends.
     Her bubbly, bright, smiling, and loving personality just makes all around her love her.
Caylie was in no big hurry to start driving. When she finally did, she was always very slow, always very careful. We all call her our “Granny Driver.” When her papa Corey was training her, one could often hear him saying, “Caylie, you need to speed up just a little.” But when her younger brother Christian was being trained, one could hear a touch of panic edging into Corey’s voice.  “Slow this thing down! You just clipped a sign back there!”
      Caylie and Tim have been hanging around together for a long time. After they had been together for a year or so, Tim had a question for his friend, who would later become his best man.  “Do you think it would be too forward of me to hold her hand?”
     When Caylie, one year older than Tim, was about to graduate from high school and go off to college, she decided it was time for her and Tim to have a talk. Tim should be free to fully enjoy his senior year. The prom, dating, and all that goes with it. Somewhere in the translation, it didn’t come out just like she had envisioned. Tim did not want to date anybody else. But he accepted her decision.
     “If you’re going to break up with me, Caylie, we should at least wait until after the prom.” On the big night, it was difficult to determine who was breaking up with whom. Tim was heartbroken, but he took it like a man. Caylie was the one who cried all night. When Caylie got home afterwards, flowers were awaiting her in her room. As Tim later said, “I wanted to let her know I still wanted her, and I was not angry.”
      A few days later, Caylie graduated. As I walked through the parking lot afterwards, I saw a large bouquet of flowers on Caylie’s car. I had to smile. The battle was enjoined; Tim’s struggle to win her back had begun.
     Long before she left for college, Caylie was having major second thoughts.  Once she got to Ouachita Baptist University, she soon realized the boys around her did not measure up to Tim. Soon, she tentatively inquired how Tim felt about the two of them getting back together. She feared she had messed up; Tim may have found somebody else.
     Tim thought about this for a long time, then replied, “I will need to pray about this for three days.”
     This was a long three days for Caylie, especially the third day. Walking to her dorm from classes, her head down, she got a call from Tim. “Where are you, Tim?”

    “ In a parking lot somewhere on campus. I don’t really know where I’m at.”
     When she finally found him, he was by his car. He had a large bouquet of flowers, her favorite candy, and her favorite gum. He had one question. “Will you be my girlfriend again?” He handed her a card after she answered yes. Written on the card was one word; always.
    
     Tim is a swimmer. Six years ago, he was a big time swimmer. He swam every day, five hours per day, with an elite swim team full of olympic hopefuls. He had the second fastest time in the country in the mile, somewhere around fifteen minutes. (A fifteen minute mile is a pretty fast walking pace, in case you haven’t tried that.) Also on Tim’s elite swim team were two little girls, ages eight and nine. They were already, at their tender ages, showing great promise for the future, and have continued that grueling training pace to the present. I feel certain that six years ago, Tim was their hero.
     The Olympic trials were looming. But as bad luck would have it, Tim had a serious allergic reaction to chlorine in swimming pool water, and had to drop out. Tim manages to stay in good shape, and swims when he can in lake competitions, but the world class level at which he had been swimming had to go by the wayside.
     Last summer, Tim and Caylie borrowed my fourteen foot aluminum boat. They floated from Lake DeGray to the Ouachita River Bridge near Arkadelphia, Arkansas. That’s a pretty solid half day float.  I drove down to pick them up, and when I was crossing the bridge, I could see they had missed the take-out ramp. They floated by on the far side of the river, and when they saw it, they were already well past.
     The lakes were releasing a lot of water due to heavy spring rains, and the river was flowing swiftly. They were both paddling as hard as they could, but were steadily losing ground. I hollered for them to paddle to the bank, where Tim could walk along in shallower water and pull the boat up. They did, but immediately saw a large water moccasin on a limb, grinning at them, daring them to get just a little bit closer. They quickly headed back to deep water. Paddling was not the way to go, so Tim jumped into the river, put the rope around his shoulder, and started swimming. Now, for a normal person, considering Caylie was still in the boat, that would have been impossible. But Tim is not a normal man. He started gaining ground. It still took him a long time, but he got it done.
     This past Saturday was a big day for me. For the first time, I was about to see Tim in action, swimming against strong competition. Hundreds of great swimmers from all over were competing at Degray Lake. Tim was entered in the one mile swim. Swimming in the women’s division of that race were two teen age girls. Initially, this really didn’t mean anything to me, I did not know them. But Tim did. They were the same two little girls from his old swim team of six years ago. He knew they had been swimming five or six hours daily all these years since Tim had to quit. He also knew they would be in top condition, and his chances against them would be slim. Not being in the know, I was concerned with the whole herd of musclemen Tim would be swimming against, and I paid little attention to the girls.
     Halfway or so into the race, his shoulders began to give him great pain, but they soon went numb. Other than having to throw up a couple of times, everything was going smoothly. But Tim had been right. The two little girls, no longer little, fourteen and fifteen, were first out of the water. Tim was next out, winning the men’s division, at around twenty four minutes. The musclemen I had been worried about were still specks far out in the lake.
                                                        **
     Tim’s father Joe is 55 years old. He owns a landscaping business, and he normally gets up very early, riding his bike totally unreasonably long distances.  A one hundred mile ride is standard fare for Joe. He then works all day in his landscaping business. Then he goes out after work for a little exercise. Joe is a regular in Iron Man competitions.
     Joe was once present at a one hundred mile run event in the mountains. He was not participating in this, so he had not been training for it. A friend who was entered knew Joe always stays in great shape, so he asked Joe to pace him during the last part of the race.  Joe agreed. He paced him the last forty miles. That put both of them in the medical tent.
     Joe hires several young men, twenty some-odd years old, in his business. Occasionally, they all gang up on Joe and attempt to pin him in wrestling, but have never yet been successful. Joe said recently, “I gotta stop doing that. I hurt one last time.”

     In the one mile swim – twenty five mile bike ride event at Lake Degray, Joe placed second. The one man who beat him in his age group also won first overall, and he is number four in the country in that event. Swimming was Joe’s weakest area, but he made up for that once on the bike.
Joe’s father David, Tim’s grandfather, started his physical training early. At two, he was so active he was having trouble walking. The doctor determined he was too musclebound to walk properly. Later, his father Ray hitched David up to the plow to work the garden, instead of using a horse. He went on to become captain of the football team at The Citadel. The University of South Caroline was a major football power at that time, but David’s team managed to beat them, the only time that has ever happened.
     David was in the Korean War. He was a forward observer, maybe the most dangerous job in the army. Their job was to move into enemy territory, locate enemy forces, and call in artillery fire.
     This was during a time of change and experimentation in the US army. Up to that point, the early 1950’s, black soldiers were normally not highly trained in fighting, being usually assigned more domestic duties. That was changing. David was given a team of thirty men, mostly blacks, and he trained them up to a very high fighting level.
     Also along about that time, the Chinese were flooding into North Korea to fight for North Korea against the South Koreans and Americans. They came in very large numbers. They fought with guns, pitchforks, hoes, etc. The Large hoards of men more than made up for any shortage in equipment or training.
     David’s team, as forward observers, were spotted by one of these very large groups. The machine guns David’s team was equipped with had two barrels. While one was firing, the other would be cooling off. Facing this vast hoard of Chinese, cooling the barrel was a luxury they could not afford. They had to keep both barrels firing constantly. Over time, both barrels melted.
     Both groups were running out of ammunition.
     Now, it was man to man, hand to hand. David realized they were about to be overrun, so he called in artillery fire right on top of the entire battlefield. That way, the enemy would be taken out also.
     Officers, such as David, carried a pistol. They were trained to shoot themselves rather than be captured. David pulled his pistol, ready to do his duty. But he just could not bring himself to pull the trigger. The only other option was to fight to the end. David dimly remembers he and men around him beating each other with fists, and heads being slammed against the ground. After what seemed like forever, all was quiet on the field. There was no one left to fight. Only David and two of his men survived.
                                                           **
     David’s father Ray, Tim’s great-grandfather, became a professional heavyweight boxer at an early age. He married at fourteen. He and his wife had eight children. His wife finally persuaded Ray to retire from boxing. He always regretted that decision.
     Ray went on to become the ski jumping champion of West Virginia. At 55, he was the national skeet shooting champion. Even his bird dogs were national champions.
     Ray became a state senator in West Virginia. When the presidential elections rolled around, he played a major role in helping John F. Kennedy get the presidential nomination. West Virginia became a key state in the election, and Ray campaigned tirelessly. Who woulda’ guessed?
     When West Virginia compiled a list of the one hundred greatest athletes in the last hundred years, both Ray and David were on that list.
Hopefully, Tim and Caylie will produce the next generation of supermen for the Barnett family. Who knows? Maybe a little of that super manhood will spill over into the Gillum clan.


      Just look at me. As you can easily see, we need a little dab of that.

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