YOU JUST NEVER KNOW

Part I:  Changes

 You just never know.  I had been working part time for Shawnee Public Schools after retiring from the school as the Administrator of Buildings and Grounds.  I had worked  in management for quite a few years and the reasons for going back to work was to be able to carry my tool bag once again and work in the field with the guys I had supervised.  These guys are a great bunch and it was an honor to work with them side by side.  But after working part time for the last few years I knew it was time for a change.

 2019 started off with me planning and making small changes.  I started out fishing, something I hadn’t done in many years, I didn’t really care if I caught a fish or not, the important thing was doing something different.  I started watching baseball on television and was planning on taking in a minor league game at the Bricktown Ballpark in Oklahoma City.  Another change was quitting my job, I had finally grown tired of working.  I didn’t have a specific date but I was thinking about sometime in October.  

 Throughout the year I made these changes and now at the last of July I had been working very hard mowing and brush hogging my property.  At work I had put in a hard day starting up a chiller plant for the High School.  The next day waking up I was having trouble breathing.  Contacting my Doctor he had me come to his office for an examination.  After the exam he was somewhat perplexed as to what was wrong with me since my vitals were in appropriate ranges.  Not knowing exactly what was wrong he thought I might be having a reaction to my blood pressure medicine so he made the decision to change my medicines but by the afternoon I was still having problems.  By the evening my wife took me to the ER.  At the ER the attending Physician also didn’t know what was wrong initially thinking I had pneumonia he decided the appropriate action was to have me transported to the hospital in OKC.

  I remember the ambulance ride and arriving at the hospital then my mind went blank. Some things would very briefly come and go but mostly I was out of it until the door opened and my neighbors Danny and Judy walked into the room.  Now the strange thing about this room was that it wasn’t a hospital room but a dark theater auditorium  and I was curled up in a theater seat.  I could tell I was the only one in the auditorium all the seats were empty and the stage and movie screen had no lights. The strange thing about all this is I didn’t find anything unusual about where I was nor did Danny and Judy say anything about the room/auditorium.

 Now don’t misunderstand what I have said, I knew something was wrong I just didn’t know what.  I wasn’t in pain but I was trying real hard to hold onto the here and now.  Danny asked how I was doing and in my mind I replied okay I guess, then Judy leaned down and looked me right in the eyes and she spoke.  It was Judy, because she was standing right in front of me, but it wasn’t her voice.  The voice was deep with authority and the words were commanding.  “You will live and not die” remember what I have said, “You will live and not die.”  “Take your phone and search YouTube for Norvel Hayes listen to his sermon How to Live and Not Die and do as Pastor Hayes says to do.”  “ Then you will read Mark 11;23”.  Even though I was in a stupor I heard her words as plain as day and somehow don’t ask me how I wrote down everything Judy said to me.

Sure its on my phone but I never watch YouTube.  I’m not sure how I done it, but I have to believe God guided my hands as I typed in Norvel Hayes’s name.  The first and only sermon to show up on my screen was the video  How to Live and Not Die.   I touched the arrow to play and Brother Norvel began to preach.   I’m not going to attempt to explain the entire sermon, but will try in my humble efforts to explain what the voice instructed me to do.

 Brother Norvel told the story of a young man, grievously ill lying in Intense Care, nothing of his afflictions were spoke of, other than he breathed only some of the time. The Doctors had no idea of what to do and unless a miracle were to occur the young man was certainly going to die.  Brother Norvel a traveling Minister was in town to speak at the young mans church, the Minister of the church asked Brother Norvel if he would accompany him to the hospital to visit the young man and pray at his bed side.

 At the hospital the Nurse in charge explained to the two Ministers no one but the immediate family was allowed in to see the young man and even they were only allowed two minutes at a time.  The man’s Minister appealed to the nurse that they would only stay for two minutes and only stand at the foot of his bed and pray.  The Nurse finally relented and allowed them to enter.

 Sitting by the bedside was the young man’s wife who the Doctors allowed to stay at her husbands side at all times.  The Ministers spoke to the young lady saying they were their to pray for her husband and ask for God’s Will to heal her husband.  Finishing their prayers they again offered words of hope and grace to the wife and started to leave the room.  Suddenly!  Brother Norvel stopped and turned to the wife taking her by the hand excited and a bit agitated.  The Holy Spirit has just moved inside of me!   He said to the young woman, he has told me he will heal your husband if he will obey Mark Chapter 11 verse 23.  He also said to me  Pray to God in Jesus’s name.  “MY HUSBAND WILL NOT DIE, MY HUSBAND WILL LIVE THANK YOU JESUS FOR HEALING MY HUSBAND, MY HUSBAND WILL LIVE AND NOT DIE.”  Say these words over and over a hundred times!  A thousand times!  As many times as it takes, only stop to rest, once rested began again and the Holy Spirit will heal your husband!  Brother Norvel and the Minister were again walking out of the room, when Brother Norvel turned again to the young wife one last time and said  “Have only victory thoughts for the devil will defeat you with doubtful thoughts.”

 Six months or so later Brother Norvel was again invited to the church for revival and the Minister as the service began came to Brother Norvel and said “Do you see the young couple on the front row?”  That is the young man who the Doctors said would die in the next day or two.  Remember we visited and prayed over him in his room.  Lets ask them to come to the pulpit and give their testimony.

 The young man standing before the congregation began, “Yes I was ill and the Doctors gave me no chance of living.  It was just a matter of minutes to a few days and I would die.  Now after six months I am completely healed and today I’m as strong as I was before I became sick.  I am now the Youth Minister for this church and I have been blessed.  I praise the Lord Jesus for my life as he finished his testimony.”

 Then the young man’s wife who was standing beside her husband at the podium spoke.  “I was so worried so scared for my husband I was afraid he was going to die. I  sat beside his bed for days and I was losing all hope.  Then our Minister and Brother Norvel came into our room to pray.  After saying their prays and as they were leaving, Brother Norvel suddenly turned to me and said the Holy Spirit is speaking to me telling me he will heal your husband if Mark 23 is obeyed.  Brother Norvel said pray in Jesus’s name MY HUSBAND WILL NOT DIE, MY HUSBAND WILL LIVE, THANK YOU JESUS FOR HEALING MY HUSBAND, MY HUSBAND WILL LIVE AND NOT DIE.   I started immediately saying this pray over and over, hardly ever taking a break all through the day and through the night I didn’t leave my husbands side.  If I dozed, when I woke I started saying the pray again.  I did this and after a couple of days his breathing became a little bit better and after two weeks he was breathing on his own. Any improvements no matter how small we celebrated and rejoiced in the glory of God.  Now my husband and I pray each day giving thanks to the Good Lord for saving his life and the miracle of his healing.”          

 The last thing Judy said to me before her and Danny left was more than I hope you get well.  She told me how to get well.  She reminded me how in years past for exercise I would walk from my home to the Little River bridge about three miles more or less.  This I would do almost every evening from Spring to late Fall.  During these walks sometimes I would work on poems that I was writing and planning to  performed at Cowboy Poetry Gatherings, reciting verses as I walked.  Other times when I reached the top of thrill hill I would stop and look at the horizon and it would remind me of the Ozarks a place I dearly loved to visit.  Then there were times as the sun would be setting and with the heat of the day it would embrace the coolness of the evening and their kiss would make ghostly vapors across the creek bottom lands sending shivers through my body.

 Then she said still in the deep voice that wasn’t hers. “This is what I am telling you to do.  In your mind as you lay in this bed picture the dirt road in front of your house. Picture yourself walking down the road feel your legs and feet taking each step and work your arms back and forth as you walk.  See the sun as it sets in the west and feel the breeze as it touches your face remember your lifetime on this road to the river.  Do this as many times as it takes to complete your walk and you will be healed

 Part II:  The Hospital

 I know everything I’ve said so far must seem far-fetched, but it is an honest telling of what Judy said to me.  Most of the time I was in a stupor barely aware of what was happening.  During this time in my mind I still wasn’t in a regular hospital room.  One time I found myself sitting and slouching in a dark waiting room.  I remember only a few visitors  my grandson Riley, my cousin Jerry Lynn with his wife Mary Ann and Kent another neighbor from down the road.  I only remember family and friends staying for a few seconds and then they were gone.

 This area I was in was dark, there was no sunlight nor any moon or stars I didn’t know if it was day or night.  There was a small amount of light at the receptionist desk which was across from the seating area. I couldn’t make out who these people were but they were busy and I could hear them talking softly as they worked.

For some reason one of the workers a young woman who I took to be a Nurse would come to where I sat and tell me to drink this cup of  orange juice.  This went on for hours and hours and if I fell asleep she would shake me by the shoulders or take my face into her hands slapping me enough to wake me up.  As she was doing this she would say  “JIMMIE, JIMMIE, JIMMIE STAY WITH ME STAY WITH ME” over and over.  Then a thought came into my mind or perhaps better said the thought was placed there, “READ MARK 11:23.”  I don’t know how I was able to do this, but at the same time I know in my heart how I was able to. I took my phone and downloaded The Holy Bible.

 Opening to the table of contents I went to the Book of Mark and began turning pages to Chapter 11:23 and read, "For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith."

 After reading and rereading Mark 11:23 I started my mantra, which I gleaned from listening to Brother Norvel’s sermon on YouTube.  “IN JESUS’S NAME MY FATHER I WILL NOT DIE, MY FATHER I WILL LIVE, THANK YOU JESUS FOR HEALING ME, I WILL LIVE AND NOT DIE.”  And I said this mantra over and over in my mind maybe a thousand times maybe a million times I can’t say for sure because my reality was not in the physical sense.  But mentally I could see pictures in my mind and hear the words I was saying.   

 Physically I wasn’t aware, I didn’t speak and I couldn’t really recognize anyone or my surroundings and I might hear but I didn’t comprehend.  At times I could sense some movement maybe whoever it was came and stood beside me, I never felt a touch only a closeness and I kept saying my mantra again and again, as Jesus said to Peter “HAVE FAITH IN GOD”  Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them.  Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” 

 Then the voice spoke. I didn’t know if the voice I heard was my inner voice that everyone has or if the voice was heaven sent, but I heard each and every word it said and there was no mistaking what it was telling me do. “Its time to start your walk.”

  Part III The Walk

 From my home to the river is a little over three miles.  Envisioning this walk shouldn’t be that difficult to do.  You walk south until the road curves, then you walk east to the y in the road turn to the south for about a mile until you reach the river.

Should be easy, but in my mind I knew the voice wanted me to experience more than a brief summary.  What the voice wanted was for me to feel each step I took.  

I couldn’t say if I was still in the waiting room, or laying in a bed, but my physical location didn’t matter I was going to picture this walk in my head as if it were a movie. I pictured myself at my home getting ready to walk.  I always wore cargo shorts and a t-shirt, in my closet was a worn pair of New Balance walking shoes.  I grabbed my fanny pack off the hook and fasten the belt around my waist.  Filling two water bottles from the tap I stuffed them into the bottle holders on the pack.  Almost ready I went back to my room for the most important things, my worn and thread-bare straw hat which anyone else would have thrown away a long time ago.  And my walking stick, a thin limb cut from a cedar tree the bark shaved off and the stick stained to seal from the weather.

 With all my gear ready I stepped out on the porch and looked up the long drive-way to the county road, my eyes taking in the dog-leg crook of the driveway and the Cedar trees, Burr Oaks and the Blackjack tree at the start of the drive, I stepped off the porch and started walking.

 Where my driveway met the dirt road I turned south at my mailbox stepping out to climb the short hill, on my left was the Whitman property and on my right was my front yard.  Looking to the back of my property I could see my home. Looking ahead was my daughter’s home.  Our two homes and my cousin Jerry’s home were all on a forty acre plot that once belonged to my Grandparents.

 My Grandparents home still stood not far from Jerry’s home, all the time they lived in the old house they drew their drinking water with a rope and pulley from the water well.  I remembered the fun I had drawing the water and filling the water bucket for us to have a drink when I was a child.  I also remember how Grandpa didn’t have the full use of his legs.  He used crutches for short distances to get around the house are out to a car.  Once a week Mom would go to town and buy groceries and run errands for my Grandparents and Grandpa liked to ride along.  But around the house Grandpa found it easier to crawl or scoot if he needed to go very far.  Grandpa wasn’t a give up type of person, I watched him many times catch and harness his old plow horse Smokey and plow his large garden.  He always grew the very best vegetables.

 One other thing my mind focused on was me as a child sitting on an old patchwork quilt under the Elm trees next to the old house watching and listening to Uncle Calvin and his friends play their guitars and fiddles throughout the summer evening.  In my mind after all these years as I walked down this road looking across the field at the home place I once again seen that child as clearly as if I were physically seeing him with my own eyes.  And as I walked down the road I could still hear those old tunes played under the Elm trees drift up to me.    

 After passing my daughter's home and reaching my cousin’s driveway the walk was going well and then it happened and it was sudden.   I faded away I lost my thoughts and everything turned to darkness and I became unaware.  I can’t say where I went maybe my brain just went to sleep.  How long I was without conscious thought I couldn’t say.   Maybe it was just an hour or a few hours, but if I were to speculate I believed it was days.

 I didn’t know what time it was, whether it was morning or night when I became aware.  I heard the voice say with quiet insistence, “Jim its time to start walking.” Again I started on my front porch and walked up to the road and headed south going past my daughter’s home.  I could see my cousins drive on my right and the Whitman property on my left and it happened again my mind went blank.

  I don’t know how many times I started my walk over.  I always made the short incline to the top of the hill walking the level stretch of the road passing Marie’s house and sometimes I even managed to pass my cousins home.  But no matter how hard I tried  I couldn’t get past the entrance to the Whitman property.  This is where the road starts going down hill to the deer crossing.  Each time I was in touching distance of Whitman’s mailbox my mind would go blank.  

 You would think I would become discouraged it felt like I started and restarted my walk a thousand times, but each and every time when I became aware I would say my mantra “IN JESUS’S NAME MY FATHER I WILL NOT DIE, MY FATHER I WILL LIVE, THANK YOU JESUS FOR HEALING ME, I WILL LIVE AND NOT DIE.”  An I would keep saying these words over and over from my first step off the  porch to my last step down the road when my mind would fade away.  Not one single time did I have any doubts, in my heart I was determined to walk to the river.

 The voice nudged me as it did every time when I had to start over.  “Jim….Jim its time to walk.” Once again I stood on my front porch my fanny pack around my waist  my straw hat perched on my head with my walking stick in my hand  I headed for the road.  I passed the same landmarks I had acknowledged so many times before and as I was getting closer to Whitman’s mailbox  I started feeling kinda strange, I don’t know exactly how to explain it but my brain began to tingle a little bit.  Looking down the hill on my right I seen Munday’s driveway with the rock banisters protecting the culvert which was also a good sitting place to take a rest.  I turned to my left and almost stopped in my tracks walking with me on the left side of the road matching me step by step was Mrs. Laura Ingalls Wilder!

 Now wait a minute before jumping to conclusions, don’t start thinking I’ve lost my mind and become delusional.  Because it wasn’t Mrs. Laura Ingalls Wilder the famous author of the Little House on the Prairie fame, but a Border Collie mix that was my daughter’s dog way back at least thirty years ago.  Marie was a huge fan of Laura Ingalls Wilder and the books she wrote so she named her dog after her favorite author.

 Mrs. Laura as we always called her was my walking buddy, for years she went with me step for step, she always walked on the left side of the road while I walked on the right she stayed out of the way of cars and didn’t bark or chase the neighbors cows as we walked past there pastures.  Mrs. Laura was one fine Lady.

 I can’t describe how it made me feel seeing Mrs. Laura, except that it felt right.  She had been gone from my life for a long time and now she was here walking beside me as we went down the hill toward the deer run.  A crossing where in the twilight of the evening I had sat on Munday’s rock culvert and watched as the deer crossed the road to the pond on his property.

 As Mrs. Laura and I headed south I felt happy, I started taking longer steps.  I swung my arms back and forth and let me tell you the smile on my face was in competition with the sun shinning down on us.  We passed the pond beside the road but it was to early for the deer to be there for a drink of water.  Then at the bottom of the hill we strolled by my neighbor’s home.  I looked to see if Kent was out and about and if he had a been I would've given him a big wave and shouted hello.

 In front of Kent’s home for a short distance the road was straight and flat then it dropped off into the Wildcat Creek bottoms. When we reached the drop off point I stopped for a moment as I always did and looked out across the bottoms watching the cows grazing in the pastures.  I thought back many years ago about riding horseback working  cattle in these pastures my two horses, Corky and Sugarfoot both good working horses helped this young man live a Cowboys dream.

 Taking the first steps off the hilltop leading to the creek bridge once again I faded away.  Every time this happened it always seemed like many hours to several days would go by before I became aware again.  This time was different.  I became aware much faster and this time the voice that was nudging me to start walking was my voice.  When I stepped out of the house onto my porch, laying by the door waiting for me was Mrs. Laura.  I didn’t know how far I would get before fading out, but with Mrs. Laura by my side I no longer felt alone.

 Where as before there was a certain amount of hesitation in my steps as if I didn’t know exactly what was going on, this time I walked with a purpose.   I knew where I was going and what I was doing and in my mind I spoke my mantra loud and clear.

Mrs. Laura and I made good time from my home to the incline to the creek bottom. From there we walked to the creek bridge where we stopped to take a break.  I sat on the rail of the bridge, while Mrs. Laura laid beside the left banister waiting or perhaps wondering if I was ever going to move again.  I looked down the road and I could see Glen’s old place on the left along with Danny and Judy’s home.  On my right the Rose’s old home place and on the other side of the fence line was the Warden home.  And right down the middle was the tallest steepest hill in the neighborhood.

 This hill is a challenge no matter what reality you are in.  I had hiked to the top and rode my bike to the top of this hill many times and it was never an easy task. Sometimes when doing this I would have to take a rest break before making it to the top.  This hill had a few different names, I’ve always known it as Kessinger’s Hill, named after the family who build a two story home at the very top of the hill sometime in the early part of the twentieth century. Other names like Heart Attack Hill, and Suicide Hill were perfect names when walking or biking to the top.  And Thrill Hill is a well earned name when your riding a bike or driving a vehicle to the bottom.  Rising from the banister with a little bit of thrill and a lot of trepidation I said to Mrs. Laura its time to walk.

 With walking stick in my hand and my head bowed to the task I started saying out loud my mantra over and over while putting one foot in front of another.  I was determined to make the top of the hill without taking a break or especially fading out.

Part way up I glanced over at Mrs. Laura and she was as spry as a puppy while my legs felt as if they had lead weights attached to them.  I didn’t look back and I didn’t miss a step, but I leaned into my walking stick bending it almost to the point of  snapping, as I pulled myself up the hill.

 Reaching the crest of the hill breathing hard I raised my arms in victory to the clear blue sky.  My eyes looked to the hills on the horizon and a breeze cooled my sweaty body.  For the first time in a long time I felt strong, not physically nor mentally, what I felt was the strength of the spirit in my body for I had climbed a mountain.

 At the top of the hill Mrs. Laura and I started walking.  Renewed in my mind I started saying again over and over my mantra “IN JESUS’S NAME MY FATHER I WILL NOT DIE, MY FATHER I WILL LIVE, THANK YOU JESUS FOR HEALING ME, I WILL LIVE AND NOT DIE.”  Then I added to my mantra “PLEASE MY DEAR FATHER  I ASK IN JESUS’S NAME, I ONLY ASK TO BE NORMAL, THANK YOU MY FATHER.”

 Up ahead not to far past the top of the hill was a stone walkway and bordering this walkway on both sides were Easter Lilies in full bloom and very pretty.  This walkway led up to where Kessinger’s two story home with the wraparound porch had once sit overlooking the pastures and fields.  This beautiful old home had been destroyed by fire many years ago but I could still see it standing there in my mind as true as if it had never been touched by a flame.  For a moment I stopped as a memory came to me of sitting in the shade of the wraparound porch visiting with Uncle Herman on a Spring evening while his two Red Bone hounds and his old Blue tick hound laid at our feet relaxing in the evening breezes.      

 With this memory still in my mind I gave the Easter Lilies a melancholy little smile and stepped back out on the road and headed south to where the road curved back to the east.  At the curve another memory came to my mind of an old shack that sat on this curve many, many years ago.  The roof was falling in and none of the windows had any glass in them.  I remember Mom and I stopping at this old shack on a chilly winter day on our way to visit Grandpa and Grandma.  As we explored the old house Mama told me how Grandpa sharecropped this hill land when she was a young girl and this shack was their home.  She told me of the hardships the family faced just to put food on the table and raise a crop.  She said to me. “ In life its not always going to be rosy and when times get hard you have to stand up and face your troubles head on and take care of them the best you can.”  As I headed on down the road I never forgot the life lessons Mama taught me.  And how after all these years of her being gone my eyes still tear up and my heart aches from missing her.  With each step bringing me closer to the river I asked God once again to please heal me and let me be normal again.

 Just past the curve the road has a couple of dips and two small hills, standing on the last hill before walking down to the pecan groves that border both sides of the road I noticed to my left an old barbwire gate latched to an oak tree.  Looking closely you could barely make out a rutted roadway now almost grown over from not  being used.  This trail led down to a treacherous creek crossing into a secluded hay field.  I knew this because as a kid not even old enough to legally drive a car I had hauled many a bale of hay out of this field.

 I worked with Uncle Herman and Grandpa Hogue.  Now let me say neither one of these gentlemen were my kin, but every person young or old who lived in the neighborhood always referred to these two men as Uncle and Grandpa showing their respect for them.

 We hauled the hay with two old International pickup trucks both with short narrow beds.  Grandpa Hogue was the driver, he was at least in his mid eighties and had problems with his eye sight.  Uncle Herman a very strong man from the waist up had weak legs, and needed a couple of canes to keep him steady as he walked.  When stacking hay he would sit on the rails of the truck and stack the hay as I ran beside the truck and tossed the bales up to him.  How we managed to load fifty bales of hay on both trucks, drive them across the muddy creek and climb the cow trail to the county road I’ll never know.  I knew my inner self was alert and strong from my memories but thoughts of fading away still teased the forefront of my mind as I walked away from the wire gate pulled tight against the oak tree.

Leaving the pecan groves and crossing Wildcat Creek for the second time Mrs. Laura and I were entering the Skaggs City community.  This area got its name from the country store that a person by the name of Skaggs ran in the nineteen twenties through the mid fifties.

  Mama would tell me stories about riding in the wagon to the store when the family had money to buy staples like flour and sugar.  During World War II she had a boy friend serving in the Army and he would write to her in care of Skaggs City Store.  Reaching the Y in the road I refocused my thoughts as Mrs. Laura and I turned to the south we were getting closer, Little River was only about a mile away.  I spoke my mantra loud and clear and over and over, I also added another prayer to my mantra asking my Father to keep my mind awake I have to reach the river bridge.

 Crossing Wildcat creek for the last time what little bit of water in the creek traveled slowly to the south to empty into the river.  Up ahead there was a big hump in the road from a culvert constructed in the 1930’s by the WPA to drain water from the west side of the road to the creek side on the east to keep the road from flooding.

 This hump in the road brought good memories to my mind.  When I was a little boy no more than four or five, Dad surprised me one day by driving really fast over this hump if we didn’t go airborne it sure felt like we did because I bounced all over the back seat of his old car.  From then on whenever we were traveling this road and coming up on the hump I would scream out in joy saying “Drive faster Daddy, drive faster.” and every time he would hit the gas and we would fly over the hump and we all would laugh so hard it hurt.  This memory and others came to me as I walked this road.  All happy memories that in my mind brought a smile to my face and joy to my heart.

Passing the hump and walking to the top of the hill I finally looked down unto Little River bottoms. In the near distance was my destination the river bridge. It was hard to believe that I was this close I looked over to the left side of the road to Mrs. Laura and I was bewildered to see that I was now standing in the middle of the road and Mrs. Laura was sitting beside me looking up at me as if she was going to speak.

 I glanced again to the bridge excited and thrilled that I was finally this close and then I glanced back to Mrs. Laura and, and she wasn’t there she was gone!  In a panic I looked to each side of the road and even turned and looked back the way we had come.  She was not to be seen anywhere. Then it dawned on me what she was saying. The rest of the way you have to walk alone.

 Through all the hardships and setbacks I had encountered to reach this point, Mrs. Laura leaving hit me the hardest.  I sat down in the middle of the road cross legged and with my face in my hands I cried my heart out.  I truly loved that dog but she was much more than just a dog.  She was my friend and companion.  I loved her and  I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

 Part IV:  The Bridge

 Unsteadily I rose to my feet and timidly put one foot in front of the other.  This was the first time since this odyssey began that I had doubts.  The finish line was in my sight yet my legs were weak and my mind was saying you are done, you need to rest, fade away your too weak to make it this time.

 I shook my head and I screamed NO, NO, NO WAY!  The Lord wanted me to make this walk, he wanted me to cross this bridge I will not disappoint My Father.  Then I closed my mind to this type of thinking and started feeling with my heart.  I said my mantra over and over timing it with each step.  And as I took each step I felt my strength returning as the bridge grew closer I knew I was going to make it.

 I was feeling good as I lifted my foot to make the first step onto the bridge.  My eyes were on the middle of the bridge, the spot that all those years past was the stopping point for my walks.  Then it happened something so shocking that if it hadn’t frozen me in my tracks I would have turned and ran away.

 I heard loud cheering and clapping and as I looked to my left standing on the opposite side of the bridge banister stood my family, I seen many of my aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. Standing right up front was Uncle Elmer and down from him was Aunt Bea I seen both of them as plain as day, and everyone was cheering me on.

 Needless to say I was frighten, but at the same time my heart filled with happiness.  These people had passed away many years ago and to see them again filled me with love and joy.

 I hurried for the center of the bridge wanting to complete my walk so I could hug and talk with each and everyone of these dear people whom I loved when they were living and whom I thought of and still loved to this day.

 Looking at and recognizing my relatives and old friends many of these people whose influence on this young boys life made this old man who he is today, I sincerely hoped and prayed they were pleased with the outcome.  I reached the center of the bridge and raised my foot to take that final step to complete my walk and suddenly the floor of the concrete bridge erupted and split wide open!  Fragments of concrete crumbled to gravel and re-bar curled over on itself!   As the split widened I was frozen in place my foot still raised to take that last step and then to my absolute amazement a figure rose through the large hole of the bridge floor.  

 Her arms were raised stretching upward, reaching to heaven and touching the clouds in the sky. She shined a bright gold from the top of her tiara to the bottom of her gown.  And standing there in her glory was a spirit and beauty for the eye to behold.  Looking at her, you knew you were in the presence of Holiness.  But then in the blink of my eye I found myself no longer on the bridge but standing on the roadway to the south of the bridge staring in wonder as the golden angel touched heaven.

 I looked to the banister where my family and friends had stood to see if they were able to see the golden angel but they were no longer there, they had vanished.  And I asked myself how did I get to the south side of the bridge?  I had no idea, I never felt myself being picked up or moved I was just there. Everything was fast and as I said earlier “In a blink of an eye” it was that fast.  Then I opened my eyes to find my wife and daughter sitting by my bedside.

 Epilogue

 Even though I had done what the voice instructed and completed the walk.  The Good Lord did not suddenly make me well and return me to my normal self.  I was still a very sick person.  There was a tube down my throat so I couldn’t speak, I also couldn’t move my legs and my eyes were seeing double.  My arms and my hearing were about the only things that did operate with some sense of normal.  In order for me to communicate I made writing motions with my hands and was given a pen and tablet, for the next couple of months this was my means of communication.

 For two weeks I laid in a hospital bed in ICU for the most part unresponsive. The medical professionals ran every test imaginable and still didn’t know what was wrong with me.  Finally in desperation my wife told them if they couldn’t figure it out she would move me to another hospital that could.  Now I don’t know if her talking to them did any good or not but it certainly didn’t hurt.  Finally they did come up with a diagnosis and began treating me.  This disease they say I have is an auto-immune disease that very few people have ever heard of.

 Now let me speak to what I know, and also what I truly believe in my heart.  The events of the above story actually happened.   I knew when Judy spoke telling me to picture myself in my mind walking to the bridge I knew it wasn’t her voice I heard, but a voice from heaven.  In my heart I didn’t question her instructions, I knew I had to make this walk.  More importantly though was, I wanted to walk.

  Following Judy’s orders I found Brother Norvel on YouTube and watched as he preached his sermon on How To Live and Not Die.  I also downloaded the Holy Bible to my phone and read Mark 11: 23.   I then began praying to God in Jesus name my mantra which I repeated over and over.  How did I do this?   I certainly wasn’t in any condition to search, watch or download anything to my phone.  The only way I can possibly explain is, The Good Lord made a way, because two weeks later when I awoke it was all on my phone.  So I do believe.

 Seeing Mrs. Laura walking beside me released tensions of doubt that were attempting to take seed in my mind.  I have to believe God was sending me a message that Mrs. Laura would watch over me as I made my way to the river.

 As I made my way to the bridge all the wonderful memories that came to mind and all of the people who influenced my young life were so vivid and real.  Taking the first step on the bridge I seen my family and friends with my own eyes, I heard their cheering and clapping I felt the love and emotion from them to me and in my heart I gave back to them all my love.

 And finally, The Golden Angel.  I have not the words to describe how beautiful and marvelous she was, as her hands reached to the blue sky touching Heaven.  I stood on the south side of the Little River bridge weak-kneed and in total awe of what I had just witnessed.  I can say in my heart and in my mind “I truly believe.”  

 I spent almost three months in the hospital.  In the beginning I couldn’t speak nor move my legs.  I knew though if I could complete my mental walk to the river bridge, I would work harder than I had ever worked in my life to walk out of this hospital.

 Every waking moment I worked hard trying to get better.  Physical Therapy would stop in and work with me every day and after they left I would keep exercising.  As I laid on the bed, I would take my legs in my hands and pull, push, and even drag them and all the while in my mind willing my feet to move and my knees to bend.  All during this time I didn’t forget Brother Norvel’s message.  I kept asking God through his son Jesus Christ to heal me and let me just be normal again.  And each time after saying this prayer I would humbly thank my Lord for all he done for me.  I would also thank him for my family, my friends and all others who had come into my life.  

 After almost three months of hard work and one huge setback that put me back in the ICU for a week I was able to walk out of the hospital and come home.  Now after two years I am as healthy and strong as I have ever been, and my Doctors or impressed by how well I am doing.

 I’m thankful to the Doctors, Nurses and all the Therapists who took care of me.  I am also thankful to my Wife, Daughter, Son-in-Law and Grandson who watched over me.

I am blessed for having so many wonderful friends who would call or make the long trip from home to the city to visit me. I am also blessed for the many others who I have never met that prayed for my recovery, I never felt alone.

Finally I am forever humbled and thankful to The Good Lord for the love and blessings he has bestowed on my life.  With all my heart and soul I believe Danny and Judy were his messengers and he spoke through Judy showing me the Way.

 Thank you my Father.   

 

Who was that Masked Man

The day was going to be beautiful and most importantly it was going to be warm.  After all the freezing snowy weather we had endured my wife and I were ready to get out of the house and take a road trip.

 With covid we were practicing safe precautions wearing masks and social distancing and with those thoughts in mind we decided our trip would be to Chickasaw National Recreation Area or as us locals say “We went to Sulphur.”

 We had a wonderful time my wife bought a pot at an antique store to display on our mantel. And then we went to the park and walked several of the trails while enjoying the sunshine and the clear cold spring water flowing in the creeks.

 After eating a late lunch in the park and with it getting late in the day it was time for us to head home but first we needed to take on some fuel.  Pulling into the Filling Station and pumping the gas I noticed they also sold lotto tickets. This being

Wednesday with the power ball drawing tonight once the tank was filled I headed for the store with mask in place to buy a ticket.

 As I walked through the door to my left there was a dinning area with people eating and visiting.  Walking to the counter to purchase my ticket I noticed they all stopped what they were doing and it got real quiet as they stared at me. Honestly it made me somewhat nervous.

 Now I know I’m not that good a looking nor am I that bad a looking so the only thing I could figure out was, I was the only one in the whole store wearing a dang mask. I really don’t think they had ever seen someone wearing a mask. I just hoped they didn’t think I was a robber!

 I wanted to turn and run out of there as fast I could but gosh my knees were knocking and my heart was racing, I was afraid if I took off running I might trip over my two left feet. And with all that, the darn mask kept crawling up to my eyeballs causing my glasses to steam over.    

 So I did the next best thing and that was to show no fear. I turned to the store keep and laid three, one dollar bills on the counter, give me one line on the Power Ball with the multiplier I said. With ticket in hand I glanced to the customers in the dinning area who still had not started eating I was hoping there food wasn’t getting cold.

 As I reached the door I stopped and turned to the people in the store and said “Have you never heard of the Lone Ranger I’m very pleased to meet your acquaintance. I would really like to sit and visit for a while, but Tonto is waiting for me out there in Sliver.” With a Hi-Yo Silver Away I trotted to the car and my wife and I headed home.

 Oh one other thing no we didn’t win the lottery but we sure did have a good time.

 

 

                                        Tecumseh Oklahoma Train Depot

 February 19, 2021

It Was Just A Walk In The Park

It was a warm mid-winters day the sun just a few degrees to the West of center in the deep blue sky. A few fluffy white clouds were sightseeing as they drifted by. The wind for the most part was calm but there was the occasional gust that scattered the fallen leaves making me glad I was wearing a long sleeved shirt. On this warm day the squirrels were busy topping off the last of their winters cache of grub, while the crows standing guard gave calls of warning as I passed through. It was just a walk in the park.

Walking to the back of the park I notice how all things were on the move, traveling from place to place in the confines of their world. Reaching the edges of the park I could see the outline of the abandoned right-a-way and knew I was going in the right direction. Then as I stepped onto the right-a-way strange things began to occur.

No I didn’t cross through a foggy mist nor did the warm sunny day change in anyway like you might read in a story book or see on T.V. but what I did see was the mowed grass of the right-a-way change to a road bed of gravel. Standing there I was in shock and I can’t explain it, but I felt a chill deep in my bones. I quickly turned to run back into the park my heart beating so fast I thought it might explode. I stopped in my tracks.

The ball fields and the playground equipment were no longer there. The tennis court and the rocket mainstays of the park ever since I was a kid was not there. What I did see standing on the elevated right-a-way now gravel laid with ties and rails was an open field. And in the near distance I could see some of the downtown area and the top part of the old Opera House.

Still shivering and very scared by what just happened, I was startled by the sound of a train whistle and beneath my feet I could feel the vibrations of the train as it traveled down the railroad track. Once again I looked back the way I had come and nothing had return back to my normal. The only thing I could do now was follow the tracks. To what I did not know.

                                                   Old Beck

Up ahead I could see Old Beck white smoke puffing from her stack as the engineer released steam from the boiler and she rolled to a stop beside Tecumseh’s Depot. Earlier today I had set out to see the remains of this old depot just a broken up foundation so I had been told. Now I stood in front of a long narrow wooden building.

                                          Asher Oklahoma Train Depot

The train station had a waiting room and platform on the south end of the building where several passengers were standing after disembarking from the train. At the same time a few travelers began boarding the train for their trip back home to the end of the line in Asher. The north end was a warehouse for freight and goods and about that time I heard someone yelling. “Hey you let’s get to work this freight won’t unload itself.”

Looking in the direction of the voice, I seen this man standing on the ramp between the warehouse and the boxcar with a dolly full of freight. Standing the dolly up in the doorway of the warehouse he looked me straight in the eye and said you must be the new guy? Come on lets get to work we got to keep Old Beck on time. The Asher Station Master will be plenty mad if she’s not there by four o’clock. 

Now the last thing I wanted was to cause a scene and I knew nobody was going to believe me if I told them what had just happened. Why they could even think I was kinda of loony and given me a train ride to the lunatic asylum. So the best thing I could do was haul freight until I could figure out how to haul myself out of there.

With the last of the freight out of the boxcar and stored in the warehouse and the travelers settled in the passenger car, the engineer began stoking the boiler and adding coal. As the pressure rose he released the brake and Old Beck started chugging down the tracks giving out three toots of her whistle before going out of sight. It was really something to see and it almost made me forget my situation.

With Beck out of sight I heard the Station Master holler at me again, “Hey you! Come over here the Newspaper wants to take a picture of us”. Shrugging my shoulders I thought this could prove interesting. I wondered if I would even show up in the picture. I certainly was glad it wasn’t a digital picture. Several of us and a couple of youngsters gathered beside a hand car in front of the depot while the photographer lined up his shot.

 Okay he said lets make this count. On the count of three, 1, 2, 3, CHEESE! I heard a loud pop, then I seen a flash of light so bright I closed my eyes for just a moment and when I opened them I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Once again I was standing on the right-a-way, but instead of gravel and rails it was now just winter grass. Turning to the depot I found all that was left of the building was the cement foundation with grass climbing through the broken cracks slowly breaking the stone and growing over Tecumseh’s past.

                               The foundation is the only thing left of the

                              Tecumseh Depot.

 Hurrying away from the old foundation I just wanted to go home. I let out a sigh of relief when I seen the playground and my pickup truck in the parking lot. Crossing the creek bridge I hurried down the walking path straight to my truck. Fumbling with my keys I finally got the door open. My heart was going ninety to nothing and I was shaking all over. I dropped into the seat and leaned back. Closing my eyes I needed to calm down before I could drive home.

Sometime later I don’t know for how long, I awoke from an exhausting sleep, filled with all kinds of weird dreams about moving freight and hearing train whistles. I also couldn’t figure out how my overalls, shirt and hat got so dirty I must of fallen and maybe hit my head. I was feeling pretty addled when I started the truck and headed home.

Now good friends thanks for sticking with me this far. I know my story sounds far fetched and I have been accused of telling a tall tale or two, but as they say seeing is believing. If you would please just take a moment and look at the picture I found of the Tecumseh Depot. Take a good look at those gentlemen standing beside the rail cart. Now take a close look at the feller in the black hat and overalls next to the guy in the Derby hat. Good friends you have to admit. That feller sure does look a whole lot like me.

Historical Notes:

Tecumseh was founded the day after the land run of 1891. Named as the seat for county B (later Pottawatomie), Tecumseh was slowly over shadowed by its larger neighbor to the north. In 1895 the Choctaw, Oklahoma and Gulf railroad brought a line into Shawnee. Not to be bypassed, Tecumseh added a spur line 5 miles south in 1896 to help maintain their position in the county. The engine “Lillian Russell” ran daily between the 2 cities. In 1904 the line was purchased by the Rock Island RR and extended another 20 miles to Asher serving the whole county. While Shawnee lost its bid to be the state capital, it won the county seat in 1930. Along with that, the depression and later the war spelled the end for this railroad line in 1942. 

"Old Beck" and crew: FH Grimes (shops night foreman), "Gus" Shock (engineer), Robert Archer (fireman), George Pretty (Supt. at Shawnee shops), JA Gordon (machinist), S Myton (conductor on Asher line), L Sterret (switchman)

Rock Island Train Depot, Asher OK - 1902. The station was located at the west end of Main ST, west of what is now US 177. The Stationmaster, Bill Bailey, is pictured. On October 12, 1900, the Choctaw, Oklahoma and Gulf (CO&G)* bought the Shawnee to Tecumseh Railway branch from the Tecumseh Railway Co. and  promptly extended the branch to Asher. For the next 40 years, Asher would serve as the termination point for the branch and its engine, "Old Beck."

The CO&G was later taken over by Rock Island.

 

SYCAMORE LOG CHURCH

North and West of Branson Missouri along the hilly curving back-roads of the beautiful Ozarks you will find the Sycamore Log Church established in 1933 and from all indications still having services today.

 Drip Gasoline

January 18, 2021

 

It has finally come time for me to confess. I have carried this burden for so long and now my conscience will no longer be quiet. Surely, I believe the statue of limitations has, had to run out after all this time. So at least now its safe for me tell this tale.

You see I am a criminal. My life of crime began when I was very young and my Father and Mother were the ones who led me astray. I only helped break the law two maybe three times, and to be truthful it was a lot of fun. Even though now its been sixty years and you know how memories go, what follows below is my best recollections of my crime.

In the darkness of the night this far out in the country it was unlikely anyone would notice, but Dad turned the headlights off as he drove over the cattle guard into the field and we traveled down the dirt path that wasn't much more than a cow trail. It was a clear cold winter night, the full moon and stars shined down on the frosty pasture making the grass shimmer and glow.

 Pulling up as close to the pump-jack as he could Dad and I took the five gallon cans from the trunk of the car and carried them to the drip line. As we walked across the grass you could hear it crunching with each step we took while the North wind was blowing so cold it was chilling me to the bone. I wondered who up North had opened up those gates and let that freezing wind blow through. Oh how I wished I was back in the car with Mom the heater turned on high keeping her warm.

 Putting the gas can under the condensate valve Dad opened the line and began draining the White gas into the can. As he was doing so he said “Son be careful carrying them cans back to the car any old spark can cause this gas to explode. I looked at him squatting next to the line one hand on the valve while the other hand held his Lucky Strike cigarette. I nodded my understanding and really hoped the smell off the drip gas wouldn’t strike the spark on that cigarette.

We filled up four cans of Drip that night about twenty gallons all told. Dad and I stored three of the cans in an Lean-to shed out back of the house. The fourth can Dad topped off the tank on his car.

 It seemed like I had just went to sleep when the sound of an explosion sent me straight up in bed and then a series of more explosions sounded. I didn’t know what dynamite sounded like, but those explosions were at least as loud as the cherry bombs I set off on the fourth of July.

 In my sleep befuddled mind fear entered my heart and made it race. I just knew the lean-to shed had exploded and a wall of white gas flames were going to burn down the house. I was frozen in place, wrapped up in the bed covers. there was no way I could run, no way I could get loose, so I did the next best thing, I screamed at the top of my lungs “Momma, Momma, Mommmma!” And here she came running saying Jim, Jim, Jim! what’s the matter. Or you having a nightmare? I said Momma didn’t you hear those explosions? That White Gas has done blown up and the house is going to catch on fire! We gotta run Momma! We gotta save ourselves!

Well she stood there looking down at me, trying hard not to laugh, but there was no way she could hide that smile on her face as I was still trying to unravel those bed covers. She said, now Jim don’t be scared that drip gas didn’t blow up and the house isn't on fire. What you heard was your Daddy starting his car and going to work. That old Chevrolet didn’t care for the drip not a bit and it started backfiring, and then she busted out laughing. You should of seen the white smoke coming out the tailpipe. If you didn’t know better you would of thought that old car had caught on fire.

Gosh it seemed we’d never run out of that drip gas every morning when Dad went to work the old Chevy would cough and backfire so loud it made the windows rattle in the old house and with all the white smoke coming out of the tailpipe it reminded me of one of them Sherlock Holmes movies we watched on channel four Saturday nights everything was always foggy in those movies. In the evenings just like the second hand on a clock you knew Dad was getting close to home because you could hear the car hitting and missing on those six cylinders and with the wind just right the smell from the drip was the foulest of odors that lingered for a while after we were all in the house eating supper.

Like I said I didn’t think we would ever get those cans empty because all three of us were ready to go drip hunting again.           

 

The Thrill Of the Chase

January 14, 2021

When I first heard of Forrest Fenn’s poem and his hidden treasure, my thoughts took me back fifty years. My mom through her work became acquainted with a new employee whom her and her family were treasure hunters. Hunting treasure when they had money, working when they didn't have money. They travelled across America living a vagabond life driving a Dodge van pulling a pickup bed trailer with a shell topper behind the van.

The lady whose name I seem to remember was Shirley explained to mom that with her tips working as a waitress and a couple of weeks on the payroll they would be heading to Texas looking for Spanish gold, but at the moment they didn't have the money to rent a camping site and did mom know of someone who would let them camp on their property until they could head to Texas. Since we lived in the country and had plenty of room, mom said they could camp on our place for a couple of weeks.

Back behind our house was a grove of Locust trees which offered shade from the summer sun making it a good camping site. I watched with curiosity as they unloaded their van and camper, cleaning an open area of sticks and vines and digging a fire pit. With all of this completed they finally pitched a tent large enough for the family to sleep in.

For the next two weeks mom and I would go out to the campsite each evening and listen to the Tall tales and adventures this family had experienced over the years. They told of visiting local libraries and historical societies to research records of any robberies or stories of hidden gold. In some locations they met up with like minded people and they would hunt together. Small tokens are the odd coin was all they ever admitted to finding, but their passion and joy of the hunt was infectious to a fifteen year old boy. Then on the night before they were to leave mom told her story of possible hidden loot or gold and strange markings and emblems she had seen on one of the farms she had lived on as a child.

Now fifty years to the present and having followed this treasure hunt off and on for close to ten years it has been confirmed by Mr. Fenn that his treasure has been found and the man who found the treasure does not want his name released.

Again my memory of those two weeks sitting around the campfire in the Locust grove comes back to me and the fire of my imagination is fueled with thoughts of that treasure hunting family could it have been the boy now a man or perhaps a grandson or great grandson who figured out Mr. Fenn's poem and found the treasure! My imagination says yes! And the father and mother who are still around, maybe camped out in grove of trees with the family sitting around the fire ring celebrating the hunt.

Thanks for the Treasure.