Totally Wonderful; Completely Heartbreaking

Guess What! After months of waiting, doing round after round of editing, my book, SPREADING  WING, is on amazon.com! In America and Europe. Visiting that site will give you a pretty good idea about my book. The covers, first chapter, excerpts, etc. Priced at $16.95. It will be on Kindle, also, in a week or two. Not sure of that price. If you visit the site, and like it, please press the the "liked"  button on the way out. 10 likes seem to equal a star rating, up to 5 stars. But only if you DO like.

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Barbara and I attend Fellowship Church in Arkadelphia, Arkansas.  We have been at Fellowship since 1999. Ever since we returned from a year on the road, seeing America. We were looking for a church. We attended the first corporate service of this church, at the Wesley Foundation at Henderson State University. We are the only members still in attendance who were here for that first meeting.

      We attended Calvary Baptist Church in Hannibal, Missouri for three years, but we lost that church when we moved back to Arkansas in 1976.  It was our most wonderful church experience we had ever had, up to that point in our lives. The services were never really quiet. Churches like Calvary, who bus in a ton of disadvantaged people, especially children, and who have tons of outreach going on, local and abroad, and a church whose members are excited to be there for the right reasons, seem to often be that way, I guess.

      When we left Hannibal and moved back to Arkansas, we searched for another church like Calvary for twenty three years. We attended several really good churches, met tons of wonderful people, had some really fantastic pastors during that twenty three years.

      It's hard to really explain to you exactly what we were looking for, during all that time. Maybe it was that feeling of excitement just to be there. That certain feeling that makes us want to come to church just a little bit earlier, before the services actually start, just to be in the midst of that group of people. Or because we get well fed spiritually every Sunday. Or that feeling that makes us reluctant to leave when its over.

      When we showed up for that first service at Fellowship, it didn't take long for us to realize, that feeling we had experienced so many years before was returning. And it's been there ever since.

We are fortunate enough to have two universities in our town. Along the way, a number of pastors who are associated with the universities came aboard. Many students followed. We now have hundreds of great college students attending Fellowship regularly. It just seems that students who come to our universities are just the cream of the crop. Then, those who choose to attend church regularly, and become an active part of that congregation, on there own, are usually  the cream of THAT crop.

      Instead of having Sunday night church services, we meet at homes in small groups. Like the first church. We meet, break bread, fellowship, study the word and pray for each other. Then we often have a campfire, roast marshmallows, and explode bamboo bombs, or the like. A few brave souls have even chosen to ride my zip line, sight unseen, down into the totally dark woods. Toward that big tree at the bottom nicknamed “splat.” Then they go home.

      This gives us the opportunity to really get to know and love these students. I cannot describe to you how great that is for us, and what a blessing this is to us. We have the opportunity to almost be substitute parents to these wonderful students for years. They become tightly woven into the fabric of our lives. But then, they graduate, and they often are soon gone, some forever, at least in this world. Many are reluctant to leave Arkadelphia, and work at jobs related to the universities for a time, or whatever they can find. But Arkadelphia has few job opportunities of the type they can hang their hats on, and raise a family around. Sooner or later, we lose almost all of them. It breaks our hearts, again and again, to see them go. We like to think of them as young people we have had the opportunity know, love, have an impact on for several years, then send them out as Fellowship's missionaries to the world. Our loss is the world's gain. That's the wonderful side of it, but it does not stop the heartache.

      But that is not the end of my story.

      I'm almost certain Griffin and Stephanie fell in love in our living room, many years ago. They now have three wonderful boys. We not only correspond, but visit occasionally. Griffin called us on Christmas night. They were coming through Arkadelphia during one of our very rare snowstorms, the road was getting bad. They asked about spending the night, and I told him our home was always open to them. But in all honesty, I had to tell him. Barbara and I were both flat on our backs with a bad stomach bug. Your choice. After a short discussion, they sadly chose the slick highway, instead. But they will be back, and we will be there, from time to time.

      Candi and Jeff had graduated, but they chose to stay around awhile. And, they were in love. Candi was a nurse at Hot Springs. Not just a very good nurse, but the one the hospital chose to deliver very bad news to the family about a patent, when those times arose. That kind of nurse. Jeff was temporarily training HSU students to be pilots, while waiting for a real job. Candi was ready to marry, start a family. Jeff seemed to have some reservations about being able to support a family, at that moment. I took Jeff aside after our group meeting, told him that if he missed out on this girl, he would never, in this lifetime, find another like her. He just smiled. Seems he had the ring in his pocket at the time. They have two wonderful youngsters now, and Jeff is a commercial airline pilot in Houston.        Continued

Candi McClaren - Stephanie Jones

SPREADING WING - FIND AT AMAZON.COM,  AMAZON.CO.UK, AMAZON.DE, AND AMAZON.FR     COMING SOON ON KINDLE

The Double Bullet Dodge - The Miracle Baby

I heard the siren, three hundred yards away, over on the interstate highway. "Must be a wreck," I thought, then went back to work on my houseboat. Minutes later the phone rang. Barbara soon came running out to me with the phone. The police were calling. Corey and his family were involved in a wreck. Three in the car, one ejected. Come to the emergency room. Just the bare facts.

      We arrived at the emergency room well ahead of the ambulance. We were anxiously awaiting when the ambulance showed up. Caylie came out first, just a baby, strapped tightly to a board, and screaming her head off. She looked around, within her limited field of vision, and saw Barbara and me. She stopped screaming, and smiled at us. We have never seen a smile quite so beautiful. Christi came next. She was also strapped down, but seemed alert, responsive, and, everything considered, remarkably calm. Corey was not in the ambulance.

He arrived moments later in a car. When he got out, he was beyond emotional. Way beyond that. As best he could, he was telling us he was driving behind Christi, in his car. A wheel had came off a trailer they were about to pass, hit her car in front, and the car did end over end flips, at least 12 rolls, then another flip, landing upside down. He reached through the broken back window, cutting his arm, and got Caylie out, but could not get Christi out. He was too racked by emotion to tell us more. Well, I knew Corey was totally distraught, probably in shock, far too upset for me to buy into all that. Nobody could have survived what he had just described to us.

      It was determined that Caylie and Christi had only scratches and bruises, no broken bones, and as far as they could tell, no internal injuries, but Christi had a concussion, and both were cut up by flying objects in the car. Corey settled down enough that we began to get the whole story.

The family was driving home from church, driving both cars because Christi had early choir practice. They both stopped at Western Sizzlin', at mile marker seventy- three of I-30. Being Easter Sunday, it was closed, so they and their friends decided to drive on down to Wendy's, at exit seventy eight. Corey buckled Caylie into her infant seat, strapped in the middle of the back seat. Starting to his car, for some reason, he stopped, turned around, went back to Caylie, and tightened up all the straps really good. Corey followed Christi in his car.

      Approaching mile marker seventy-four, Christi started to pass a pickup pulling a horse trailer. A wheel came off the trailer, hit the front of the car. That broke the car's front axle, starting the series of end over end flips and rolls, ending upside down in the median, with one last end over end flip, right beside mile marker seventy four.

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      Corey pulled up behind. Later, a friend who happened to be nearby described the horrible sounds of anguish from Corey as he rushed to the car. Caylie was hanging upside down. The only way he could get to her was through the broken back window, which he did, cutting his arm. When Caylie emerged, he checked her over as quickly as he could, passed her off to a stranger standing beside him, saying, "Don't leave my sight with this baby," and rushed to Christi. As he tried to get her out, a fire started. A man from the interstate showed up with a fire extinguisher, and put it out. Christi was hanging upside down, and he could not get her out. About that time, the ambulance and police arrived. They had trouble getting her out, having to use the Jaws of Life.

Once Christi was out, and being strapped to a board, a paramedic tried to get Corey on a stretcher.

Corey was bleeding more than anyone there, and the paramedic would just not believe he had not been in the car, and ejected.

      Christi, not one to get unduly excited, later described her thought processes as the wreck progressed. "Well, that's one more flip, and I'm still alive!" The car was a mess. Completely flattened on top, except for the two places where a human could have possibly survived. They just happened to match the two places where Christi and Caylie were. The paramedics working the wreck said that upon arrival, they had no expectations of finding anybody alive, much less a four month old baby. They added that the car seat straps were so loose, one more roll and she would have flown. Good thing Corey had just tightened them up.

      I went to the site the next day. Car parts were strewn along the road. From the location of the first car part thrown off, to the final destination of the wrecked car, one hundred yards. Twelve rolls and three flips? You be the judge. Our family dodged two major bullets that day.  We are always being told, wear your seat belts, all the time, most accidents are within one mile of home. Well, my family has been in seven accidents, mostly minor, none fatal. How many within one mile of home, as the crow flies? Five. For your own safety, please do as I say, but in all honesty, not necessarily as I do. I hate being hypocritical.

      Caylie, early on, assumed the role of seat belt enforcer in our family. Nobody is perfect, but I sure haven't found any flaws in her yet. At eighteen, she just got her first car, right after returning from the mission fields of Jamaica. God, it seems, had his reasons for sparing this girl.

If you live near Arkadelphia, judge this story for yourselves. The car came to rest even with mile marker seventy-four. The first car part thrown off was even with the brown sign just south of it.

This story had been in my head nearly eighteen years. It automatically replays, in living color, every time I drive by those two signs. I now know the story very well. I needed no notes to write this.

      My son in law, Mickey, a paramedic, described a roll over wreck they worked. A man was dead, but no marks were found on his body. Finally, a mark that looked just like the top of a coke bottle top was found on his temple. Every loose, even modestly heavy object becomes a deadly missile in a rollover wreck.

Blonde, Beauty, and Brains May Run in Packs

Today is one of those times when I just must set aside my scheduled post, The Best of  2012, and tell you about current events on a special occasion. Thanks for reading!
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Marvalene McKinnon was buried today. Pretty well all my memories of Marvalene go back to more than fifty years ago, as I grew up in Wing. I know she has had some hard health issues in recent years. I have only met her son Johnny recently. But I do know he must be like the son we all hope we will have someday, when the hard times hit. He has stayed by her side, and helped her navigate those troubled waters.

      All my memories of Marvalene are memories of a young woman. A really nice, fun young woman. Blonde. Beautiful. With a personality as big as all outdoors.

      Her son, Don, I only knew as a very small boy, beginning school, just starting to ride my school bus as I was finishing up at Fourche Valley School. Or, maybe, as Fourche Valley School was finishing up with me. I forget the exact wording on my diploma. Right before I was spreading wing and moving on to the rest of my life. I did, sadly, hear when he passed away some time back, way too early.

      The Mckinnons were my next door neighbors in Wing. In fact, everyone in this story was my next door neighbor. Every single one. In Wing, if you can walk as the crow flies from my house to one of those neighbor's houses, never having to walk across another house, they were next door neighbors. Even if you have to walk a mile or two.

      Marvalene had twin girls. Blonde. They were just babes when I left Wing. I did hear progress reports as they grew up. I'd heard they are smart. Very smart. I only recently met them as adults. Turns out they are beautiful, also. Just like Marvalene.

      I was visiting brother Harold in the hospital at Danville recently. Seems Marvalene was in there at the same time. One of the twins, Jane, came in to see Harold. I got to quizzing her about her work. I knew she was a heart surgeon. But, it seems she now does heart surgery from next door, by means of a robot! Good grief! I remember my Mom washing our clothes in a big black pot down by the creek, using lye soap made from hog fat, and a rub board. Now something like this comes along. I must be getting really, really old. All I remember about surgery deals with when Dad hauled all us kids over to Russellville in our 1947 cattle truck, and got all our tonsils taken out at one time. Mom and Dad were about sick of tonsillitis.

      I had my first proof of my book, Spreading Wing, with me that day. I had brought it up for family to glance at, only, because I wanted to keep the content pretty well secret, until Book Launching Day at Wing. But, I saw no problem with letting Jane just glance at it. A few minutes later, Jane handed it back. Said I was a good writer, she liked the content, which she discussed in detail, and wanted one when it came out. She asked me how many countries Barbara and I traveled through, in our world travels. I proudly answered nineteen. I asked her if she had traveled much. She said through thirty some odd countries, many on a bicycle. I shut up talking about OUR world travels. Anyway, I was shocked. She knew all that about my book, from a five minute glance. I had to quiz her about that. “I'm a speed reader. I read a pretty good bit of your book.” Good grief! My nephew Big Dan got a little miffed at me today, when he found out Jane had read a good part of it, and he hasn't even got a peek. Big Dan is not someone I want to have miffed at me. But, I'm preparing myself regarding miffed people. I know everybody is always excited about being written up in a book. I hope that excitement does not cool when they find out it's a true book, as best I can remember. But, I'm sixty eight years old. What have I got to lose? A few months, or years, at most.:) Let's just all keep a good sense of humor. Please. Most of my fun-poking is aimed right at me.

      I met the other half of that matching pair, June, after the short part of the service, at graveside. And she matched Jane well, right down to the brains. Seems she's an attorney. Not just any attorney, but a really good one, I've been told.

      Blonde Flossy Wheeler and brunette Mary Wheeler, sisters, married brothers, Sam and “Tuck” Hull. Guess which sister became Marvalene's mother? They also were my next door neighbors. Tuck Hull taught me how to catch catfish, big time, and often brought my family many messes of fish he had caught. We greatly appreciated being able to get off salt pork for a day. He was also the best hunter around. Bob Campbell, the local Game Warden, shadowed Tuck for years. Tuck was just way too successful at hunting and fishing, to Bob's way of thinking, and he suspected something had to be amiss. I'm not really sure how Bob and Tuck's relationship played out, in the long run. That was all still playing out when I left Wing.

      Mary and Flossie were both big leaders in the church at Wing. Flossie played the piano, and led the singing. Once she decided the church youth should take over those jobs for awhile. Well, we only had two youth at that time. Annette Person had just begun playing, so I grabbed the song book. Flossie was a good sport, and let us stay in that position a long time. Seemed like forever to us all. It never happened again. I do remember Flossie singing at Dad's funeral.

I know that young version of Marvalene McKinnon is just really perking things up in heaven tonight. That larger-than-life personality would just tend to do that. Just like she perked up everyone's life at Wing, when I was a small child.
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I'm very close to being able to set a date for my book opening for Spreading Wing at Wing. But not quite yet. I have to look at yet one more proof  this week to make sure it's right. I'm sorry about the delay! 

Best of 2012 number three - Sad Dog Stories

Now that we were out in the country, we decided to get a big dog. Buster was half husky – half collie. He was a good dog. The kid's loved him. One day he showed up limping real bad, and we could tell he had a broken leg. We figured a car must have hit him. Well, the kids were crazy about Buster, so we took him to the vet. He put a pin in his leg, and he told us we had to keep him confined tightly for several weeks. We had a pen, but Buster had other ideas. He would just chew his way right through the gate. Time after time. Well, finally, we figured the bone should be healed, so we let him out. A day or two later, Corey started backing up his car, (before reverse went out) and Buster was underneath. When he heard Buster scream, he stopped the car, but Buster was under a wheel. I was not there, and it took all three of them to push the car off him. We took him back to the vet, and he put a pin back in his leg. A couple of weeks later, we let him out of the pen. A couple of days after that, he was not feeling good. Wouldn't eat. He walked up the sidewalk toward Barbara and Kinley. He looked up at Barbara and Kinley, the light left his eyes, and he fell over dead. We figured he had just had more trauma than he could stand.

Midnight was building a bad reputation. He was a high powered lover. Some of the neighbors had purebred females, and they didn't want a mongrel like Midnight around when the females were in heat. They penned them up. But that didn't stop Midnight. The next morning, he would sometimes be in the pen with the female. Another neighbor had a female in heat, and I tied midnight up. He chewed the rope in two and still got to the female. After that happened a few times, Midnight just disappeared one day. We never knew who. But we had a pretty good idea who. Actually, I now know for sure. And just let me take this opportunity to call you a sorry, egg-sucking, #!**@&^ch!

Another small dog just showed up one day, half starved. We took him in. Since he was brand new, Barbara named him Booker Brand New. We got that from a classmate of Corey's, Booker. Booker showed up at school one day with brand new tennis shoes, and all his friends teased him about being "Booker Brand New." That phrase just stuck in our family. Anyway, Booker Brand New had obviously been living on his own in the woods for a long time, and he had a ton of strange hang ups. Booker Brand New stuck with us, though. Must have had to do with being able to eat regular for a change. We soon learned he could not be fastened up in the house. One very cold night, we “did him a favor” by letting him hang out in the laundry room. The entire vinyl floor was torn up the next morning. His hangups just caused him to go crazy, We never again intentionally allowed him in the house. "Having more hangups than Booker Brand New” became another catch phrase.

Barbara wanted city water and cable TV, so I spent ten months at hard labor building her a house in town. We sold our house in the country.

We were in the process of moving out. While loading up our stuff on our pickup, Booker Brand New must have sneaked in, unseen, and hid in the house. We locked up and hauled that load. When we got back, Booker Brand New had torn the vinyl floor up down to the concrete around to the front door. We found one small piece of left-over matching vinyl, just large enough. Our friend who had put the floor down in the first place matched it up and did a great job of repairing it. 
 

Corey and Christi had now married, and they needed a house, and the people who bought ours sold their house to Corey and Christi, and one day we all just counted "One – two – three – GO!!" and we all moved. The people who bought our house agreed to keep Booker Brand New, as he was in no way, shape, or fashion a dog that could be penned up. Or live in town. That was good. We didn't have a fenced yard, anyway. After we all got moved and settled a little, our buyers called us one day. Booker Brand New was just not compatible with their dog, with all his hangups. We had to find a new home for him. Well, Kinley's friend agreed to take him. He lived in the country, and it seemed everyone was going to live happily ever after. Kinley and I took Booker Brand New out to his new home, introduced him to his new owner, and said goodbye. I told the new owner, "Might be a good idea to hold onto him until we get gone. He may try to follow us." After we had gotten a long way down the road, we could see a dot in the distance, chasing after us. I told Kinley, "Well, lets just outrun him, and he'll go back to his new home." When we got back to town, we called the new owner. "He never came back," he said. So we went out and looked. And we looked. Around the new home, around his old home. But he was never to be found. Booker Brand New was never to be seen, or heard of, again. I still have nightmares about that little tiny dot, in the distance, chasing after us as hard as he could. We did Booker Brand New bad. Really bad

2012 Number Four Post: The Rock Star

We went to Wing for a visit, staying at brother Harold's. Our kids were nine and five. Shortly after lunch, we noticed Corey, Kinley, and Ken, (about Corey's age and Harold's youngest) had just disappeared. We got to looking, and I finally discovered their trail headed down into the bottoms. My kids were city kids, and I knew they could get into a lot of trouble in the Wing bottoms. I started tracking them. They were headed toward the Little Lake. I ran fifty steps, walked fifty steps, a method I used as a youngster to cover a lot of ground in a hurry. When I got close to the Little Lake, the trail turned west. After five miles of trailing, I caught up with them. The boys were still slowly moving forward, but Kinley was wandering around in a road ditch, totally worn out. Barbara had put Harold, on his tractor, on my trail and he soon caught up. They were glad to give up their adventuring for that day.

Ken was always a gadget geek. He's a computer expert today. He had a new gadget that day, a lie detector. Kinley agreed to be his subject. First question: "Do you eat boogers?" Kinley was shocked. "No! I do not!" Ken studied the detector. He finally declared, "She's lying." Everybody had a good laugh, and Kinley refused to answer any more questions.

      All this time, I was quietly teaching biology. All the excitement was in Barbara's court. I often took my classes around campus, studying the plants. I pointed out many edible ones. When they saw me eat one, they did too. One sharp youngster ran over to a row of tall plants. They already knew this one was edible, so everyone munched away. “Why are these so much taller here?” “That's because that's where the septic line runs.” Kids were spitting plants everywhere.

Like I said, my teaching life was pretty quiet now. I had to create some excitement where I could. Once, I had my class working on an assignment, and I quietly went around through another classroom to the outside. The younger kids were all sitting around or playing right outside my classroom door. I called them over and asked a small favor. Getting back to my class, my students were finishing up. I asked them, “Why do you guys not treat me like the younger kids do? They treat me like a rock star.” They giggled and rolled their eyes. Some gagged. I said, “Here, let me show you.” I walked to the door, opened it, and the kids outside all started jumping up and down and screaming. First, extreme shock, then more eyes rolled, lots of gagging When the bell rang, many left with a very puzzled look. Over the years, it has proven out that those fun moments are the ones that stick in their minds a long time. Too bad I could never make biological facts stick that well.

      I had always thought, in the deep recesses of my mind, some day I will build my own house. Mostly by myself. I decided, this was the time. We borrowed twenty-five thousand dollars in 1978, and I set in. I didn't know how to build a house, but I knew how to use a saw and hammer. The rest I learned along the way. If I got to a point where I was stumped, I went and looked at other houses under construction, and just did like the big boys did. When I first started and was doing the dirt work, a friend said, “I don't know how you ever make any progress. Every time I come by, you're leaning on your shovel.” Actually, I was very busy thinking. Trying to figure out what to do next.

    It was pretty well framed up, and Kinley was sitting in the front yard, playing in the sand. She had a spoon in her hand, and dug up a spoon full of sand just as we saw the mosquitoes were eating her up. We scooped her up, along with her spoon full of sand, and she quietly reached down and pulled a gold ring from the spoon. We figured that was a good omen for the house.

     I was working on the master bathroom when Barbara and Kinley came over with the news. Elvis Presley had just died.

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Every time I announce when my book, Spreading Wing, should be in, it's not. Christmas seems to be playing havoc with the publisher's schedule. As soon as I actually have my first order in hand, I will schedule the Book Launching at Wing. Bear with me!         Thanks for reading!

The Winding Stairs - Conclusion

Very excited about their camping trip, their first father-son adventure of this type, Micky and Jordan attempted to reach the parking area downriver from the Winding Stairs. However, landowners had fenced it off. They could not enter by the traditional route from below. Crossing to the far side of the river, they found another place to park. Mickey knew that a river crossing was required from this side, but Jordan was a tough boy who could handle it. They didn't let that dampen their spirits much, on this cold march day. They soon had to cross a rushing creek. Jordan slipped down, and got totally soaked, but climbing two mountains soon dried him out some, and warmed him back up. However, they now faced a river crossing, and It was much deeper than they expected. Jordan once told me when helping me dig for diamonds, “Papaw, nothing that's fun is ever this hard.” He may have been thinking that now, but he kept quiet about it if he did. When they finally reached the Winding Stairs, they just stood and looked for a very long time – well worth getting wet for.

      They gathered up a lot of firewood. The night promised to be cold, and the situation was not helped much when Jordan got wet again, crossing a creek with a load of firewood. But the roaring fire soon fixed that problem. They set up the tent, and got a good nights sleep.

      The next day was great. They hiked, climbing a high mountain. A ledge near the top proved to be the winter home of thousands of lady bugs. I had seen that before, at the old fire tower. They found bats in a cave. They finished out the day fishing. A great day. Seems Mickey had always planned on two nights, but didn't explain that to Kinley very well.

      The rains moved in that night. It rained, and rained, and rained some more. Fortunately, Mickey picked a good spot on high ground, so they were not affected by the rapidly rising river. But the tent did not prove to be very water resistant. Jordan's bag got wet, and he finished out the night  sharing Mickey's sleeping bag.

      By morning, the situation looked bad. The roaring river was very high now, rising quickly, hemmed in between two very steep mountains. Mickey knew trying to cross it to get to the car was out of the question. They would have to find another way out.

      They headed down river, but soon came to a feeder creek that was a trickle yesterday, but was today a roaring torrent. They stopped, managed to build a fire with the wet wood, and made coffee. Mickey knew these mountain streams usually came up very fast, but once they passed the crest, they should also go down fast. Finally, though, Mickey came to realize that if anything, it was still rising. It had to be crossed, if they were to get out of here. The water edged up toward waist deep on Mickey. Jordan, with his pack, held on to mickey in the swift current He slipped, losing his grip on Mickey, and his pack. He was about to be swept down toward the roaring River. By the time Mickey chased him down and they recovered the pack, they were both soaked. It was getting colder by the hour. Jordan was proving to be a tough guy, though. He was hanging in there.

They ran into a very wet hiker. He said he had almost been swept away trying to cross the river, and he had decided to try to get out by going up river, to Albert Pike. Mickey knew that going in that direction would only take them farther and farther away from their car, and he worried about being trapped between the cliffs and the still-rising river.

They headed on down river. The water had overflowed much of the trail, however, pushing up against steep mountains. It was tough going. After many cold, hard hours, they reached the fenced off area where they had first planned to park the car. They knew they were still miles away from the highway, and many miles more from their car. They could probably get a phone signal now, but their cell phone was dead. Finally, they reached a dirt road. After they had walked down it a long time, they heard a noise. A car! Moments later, Johnny Barksdale pulled up.

      Kinley's next call reached me on the highway. “They're out!” she shouted. “Call the Pike County Sheriff's office right now.” I said. She quickly called me right back. “They were very glad they are out of there. They were about to call in many more searchers from surrounding counties. It's going to be a very cold night. Too cold for wet campers.”

      Christian and I headed back to the levee. Christian is my oldest grandson, and the only grandchild who inherited Grandma Martha Jane's red hair. He now seems to be getting a lot of mileage out of it. The girls at school just seem to love their “ginger,” judging from the pics I see on Facebook. He's a great fishing buddy, and now, at fifteen, he's showing signs that he could become the tallest Gillum in decades. He may well become one of the smartest Gillums in decades, also, if he makes maximum use of the tools he was born with. The jury is still out on that. Caylie, my oldest grandchild, was the first driver that son Corey trained. She's very cautious. She was constantly told by Corey that she “must drive faster.” Now he's training Christian, and he now yells, with fear edging into his voice, “Christian, slow this thing down!”

      We still had time to catch a lot of catfish. And we did. We headed home two days later, with sixty pounds of catfish fillets. And Mickey and Jordan headed home, still wet, but now for the first time all day, warm and no longer hungry. And, they have a great story to tell.