Gregory, Council 'walk a hole' together

Talk about an inspiration, not only to the golfers of the world – Chuck are you reading this? -- but to everyone of us. D.J. Gregory was born with cerebral palsy, underdeveloped lungs and entangled legs and was told he would never be able to walk. D.J. is now 31 years old and with help of a cane, his life-long dream of walking and playing golf have become a reality.

A golf handicap is a mark that represents the potential ability of a player on a course of standard difficulty, as determined by the USGA. For instance, mine is … well, let’s just say out of site. D.J.’s is a 36, or the highest possible. Still, he has walked every hole on a course, and even some on PGA courses. To say that is a remarkable feat would be an understatement. He was even named the ABC News Person of the Week. Heavenerite John Council had the distinct pleasure of walking a hole with Gregory. Council met the young man at last year’s Bob Hope Chrysler Classic in La Quinta, CA (a PGA Tournament held each January) and, in Council’s words, was “privileged to walk a hole with him.” Council continued, “I read a story about him several years ago, I then saw on a report on the Golf Channel. I was watching the (Bob Hope) tournament when I spotted D.J. heading my way, coming down the ninth hole. As he approached, I took the opportunity to introduce myself and was aware of his quest (to walk every round of the PGA Tour). He is a very humble, yet inspiring person. I hope to see him again at a tournament in the future.”

Gregory (who holds a Master’s degree in sports management from Springfield College (Mass.), met golf announcer Jim Nance and told of his idea of going to every PGA event and writing about the tournaments, interacting with players and fans. Nance told PGA commissioner Tim Finchem about Gregory’s dream. One thing led to another and Gregory found himself walking every PGA Tour event this year. So far, the gutsy man has made his way through courses in Augusta, GA, Hawaii, Florida, New Orleans and others. He meets the golfers and gives background information and insights to those he covers.

He writes blogs much like I do, but probably gets paid a little more.

What did you do on Memorial Day?

So, what did you do on Memorial Day? Something interesting and having thoughts of our soldiers who have fought for our freedom, I hope. Me, well in addition to thinking of the soldiers who have fought for our freedom I got a first-hand look at the largest football stadium in the world. The new Dallas Cowboys Stadium in Arlington is absurd, or oh-my-gosh huge, to say the very least. To me, it’s embarrassing to construct anything so large right next to a baseball stadium, which is perfectly nice but looks so small next to Jerry Jones’ newest home for the Cowboys. I take that back, The Ballpark in Arlington – home to Texas Rangers – looks almost tiny.

When my friend Jim Patterson wondered if the stadium with the “world’s largest HD television” is comparable to Reliant Stadium in Houston , I said “No comparison! If the Astrodome would fit inside Reliant, then Reliant could fit inside Cowboys Stadium.” Really, it resembles something from outer space.

Memorial Day was only the tail end of the weekend we spent, though. It started with a night in Hillsboro and a quick visit to the Thousand Trails campground at Lake Whitney, then going south to Seguin where Cynthia and I got to meet Ora’s parents and family. Ora is the nice lady who recently became Michael’s wife and Michael is Cynthia’s son. They live in San Antonio , where Cynthia’s daughter and son-in-law, Tammi and Kenny, are moving within the next two weeks. Think Cynthia won’t be going to San Antonio , once she retires? Oh, I probably will go along, since we can take our new RV down for a Thousand Trails campground at Lake Medina , only 20 miles from San Antone.

After Seguin, our next stop was Arlington to see the Yankees nab an 11-1 win, behind A-Rod’s 5-for-5 day, over the Rangers. Oh, did I mention it was also Cynthia’s birthday Saturday. So, not only did the Yankees win for her, she got to visit her son and daughter and her girls. McKenna and Kenedi love her Nanna and so do I.

Yankees-Rangers time

Today starts a big week. Not only could this be Cynthia’s next-to-last week on her job (if you’ve been tracking Cynthia’s retirement like me as I said in last week’s blogs), we’re going to see the Rangers and Yankees play at The Ballpark in Arlington and visit with our friends, Jim and Gwen Patterson, today. The day started with brunch at Cracker Barrel, where we met Jim and Gwen before we went to the ball park.

The Yankees weren’t out to a very good start, especially for all the big bucks they spent before the season began, and considering the once-reliable Mariano Rivera hasn’t been so reliable, but they did just complete a great home stand to move within two games of the AL East lead.. I’m not as big a fan as I once was. I still watch them on the “big screen” whenever they’re on, but not nearly as much on the computer, although I have subscribed this season to MLB.TV and a recent eight-game winning streak is slowly getting my interest again. I only did that in case they come out of their doldrums and start winning. Some pundits might call that being a front-runner?

Jim’s team, the Rangers, however, is out to a pretty good start, despite losing three games in a row late last week. Nolan Ryan’s leadership has injected something into them, apparently, and I’m not talking anything illegal, either. They have developed a winning attitude, some good pitching and second baseman Ian Kinsler is off to a fantastic start. The Rangers are young with the likes of Kinsler, catcher Jarrold Saltamaccia, first baseman Chris Davis and shortstop Elvis Andrus among others. Texas is actually in first place in their division.

We spent Cynthia’s birthday weekend in Seguin , this past weekend, with her son, Michael, and his wife, Ora, who recently were married. That was some quality time together, which we are going to spending a little more of in just a week or two. But whose counting? Right!

Time to Spare? Go by Air!

When I was a little boy back in Heavener people of affluence and style traveled on the trains.  The KCS daily ran the Southern Belle and the Flying Crow from Kansas City to Port Arthur along with one or two more scheduled passenger trains.  People traveling on the train were usually dressed in very nice clothes—the men wore coats and ties and the women wore nice dresses or suits.  Buses were the province of those of lesser affluence but even they maintained a fair level of decorum.

By the time I was graduated from HHS, passenger train service was on its last legs and bus service had deteriorated markedly.  The last train I rode from Heavener to Kansas City was in 1962 and it had very few passengers.  Meanwhile, bus travel had changed to include a decidedly “non-decorous” subset of passengers who often reeked of a variety of smells ranging from plain old body odor to booze.  However, the buses were still generally fairly full—a fact that did nothing to help if one found oneself trapped by one of the emitters of the noisome odors just mentioned.

Air service was just coming into its own with most airlines converting to turbojet or turboshaft power—e.g., the Boeing 707, the Lockheed Electra, et al.  Many piston powered airplanes remained in use such as the four-engine, triple-tail  Constellation.  Passengers on the airlines were almost always dressed for business.  Indeed, when I worked for AT&T Long Lines in the early 1960s, we were instructed to always wear a suit, a white shirt and a tie, and a hat when traveling.  We sat in the first class section because “that is where our clients sit”.  Since then I have made about one thousand business trips all over the USA and much of Europe.

All of this brings me to the title of this rather lengthy blog.  Recently I was returning to Nashville from Washington, DC via American Eagle, a regional airline and a part of American Airlines.  The airplane, an Embraer 175, was full—full of people dressed like they were going to a “hog killing” with some of them smelling like they were coming from such an event.  We packed ourselves into the tiny seats (remember, until the Boeing 747 came along, all commercial airliners were “volume limited”, not “weight limited” so the game for the designers was to pack as many people on board as the volume would allow) and waited to push back.

Now I am a pilot and I understand and appreciate what happened next.  The Captain found the aircraft to be non-airworthy (good on him for refusing the aircraft!) and the flight was (eventually!!) canceled.  By the time of the cancellation, all subsequent flights to Nashville were completely booked so we faced the prospect of another night in Washington.

We approached the gate agent for help in rebooking only to be rudely told, “I can’t do that from this terminal.  You will have to go back through security and get rebooked at our main desk.”—a patent non-truth (i.e., a lie).  Those of you who have been through security at Reagan National know how long it sometimes takes to clear the checks.  So we waited in the gate area and after the crowd had thinned out, we asked another agent for help and, lo and behold, he could and did rebook us from that terminal, albeit through Dallas.

When we attempted to board in Dallas, the tickets issued by the Washington agent were deemed “invalid” by American’s computer.  I was ordered, not asked, to “Stand over here!”  Being a compliant and mild sort of fellow, I “stood over here” only to be ordered in about 30 seconds to “Move over there!  You’re in the way.”  So I “moved over there”.  When my ticket was finally validated I remained standing in the spot to which I had been ordered to wait while another person from my company had his ticket validated also.  (He got the same set of curt and rude orders given that I had received.)  At this time, the gate agent ordered me to “Get on through the door and go down the jetway, NOW!”

The end of this story is that I finally did get to Nashville some nine hours after I was originally scheduled to arrive.  As I mused on the deteriorated nature of air travel on the way home, it struck me that air travel today is just about the same as bus travel was about the time I was graduated from HHS. 

Now I didn’t mind the delay because I understand and appreciate the pilot’s decision to refuse the aircraft (If he doesn’t wasn’t to fly it, I don’t want to ride in it.) but I was very affronted by the boorish behavior of the gate agents in both Washington and Dallas.  So I penned a very nice letter to American Airlines detailing the events summarized above.  In reply I received an apology, a promise to work to improve the gate agents’ behavior (the two things I really wanted), and a $150 travel voucher.

Is there a moral to this story?  If there is it may be—Keep cool—Stick up for what you know is right—and “Time to spare?  Go by air.”

Snag in the process

Well, there may be a little snag in Cynthia’s retirement process. Bill said in a comment after a blog a few weeks back, “make sure the paperwork is in.” There’s a chance she might have to work just a little longer than June 5, because she’s put in for a “disability retirement” and it may take some extra time for the paperwork to go through OPM (office of Personnel Management). But, only for a SHORT time. She said she may have to consider taking leave without pay if the decision doesn’t happen soon. But the paperwork is in the OPM, according to a letter she received this week. Either way, she knows she has my support on that matter. Of course, if she does have to take leave without pay the retirement will be retroactive to her last day actually worked when the disability goes through. If it is denied, which she doesn’t believe will happen, she will begin her retirement the day she gets the decision. Either way, it shouldn’t be long now.

Running laps was Coach Twid's favorite punishment, and I was awarded many of those. Sometimes even when I wasn't guilty of a crime. At one time he would tape a hard pad on one of my shins, he would always take an exta wrap with the tape so as to get into the area that I hadn't shaved. Ouch! During one game I made a pretty good block and tore it right off. I ran over to the sidelines to have him tape it back on. When he asked me if I had made that block I replied "yer dern tootin". Later one of the ol' grads convinced him I had used the other "d" word, so on Monday after practice I was runnin' laps. :) Again!

Remembering coach Twid

Carl Twidwell coached the Heavener football team long before I played, but I remember him because he lived across the street from me. Even though he coached them 50 years ago, he will not soon be forgotten by his former players.

A dozen or so of his players will play in Twid’s Golf Tournament later this week and some of them remember coach Twid “like it was yesterday.”

Hal Dowden , the QB on Twidwell’s district champion team in 1958, said “We all absolutely worship him. He has been an inspiration to all of us. We spend a great two days (at the golf tournament) with a great man.”

Jim Monk , who played end on the ’57 team, said, “Coach developed a special bond with his players, students and town. It’s been 50 years since Twid was in Heavener and yet it seems like only yesterday. That bond and friendship still exists today.”

Bud Thompson noted, “Wow, John, where do I begin?” in response to my questions.. “To say he was special from the day we met him would be an understatement. He was not only our coach, but a big brother, a daddy to some of is, our history teacher, our class sponsor, but more importantly, he was our best buddy.”

Glen Lazalier , also a blogger, “Conditioning was Twid’s mantra. We started early in the season with a week in the mountains and three-a-day practices, went to quarterback Club-sponsored camps … although pads were forbidden, all that meant was that we didn’t wear our knee and thigh pads. Shoulder pads were used. As a result, we were usually two or three weeks ahead of our early opponents.”

Lazalier went on to say, “We used to run the sprint series as the end of each practice – out 10 and back 10, then out 20 and back 20, until we were out 100 and back 100. That’s a whole lot of running.”

Thompson added, “He has stayed in touch with all of us through the years. As far as the golf tourney goes, we started going up there a few years back just as a camaraderie thing. Twid invites us to play golf, then get together for drinks and to tell old war stories. Yes, the stories get worse as each year passes. I could go on and on and on talking about Twid, but you get the idea …”

Twid's business

Coach Carl Twidwell founded Twid’s Sporting Goods (twidsports.com) in 1972 and started with one part-time employee. When he turned it over to his son, David Twidwell (dtwidwell@cox.net) and one of David’s friends, Earnest Crain (ecrain@cox.net) , it had 10 employees. Now, it has grown to 30 employees and is one of the most respected sporting good businesses in Oklahoma City . One of my coaching friends, Elliot Johnson, baseball coach at Southern Nazarene University in Bethany , OK , is a regular at Twid’s.

Among the employees, David now has an art director and a purchasing agent. The address is SE 15^th St , Oklahoma City and the phone number is 1-800-654-3095. The store’s hours are M-F 9-6 p.m. and 9-5 pm. on Saturday.

Only three weeks...

If you are enjoying reading these retirement blogs as much as I’m enjoying writing them, we’re both in sync. And I’m not even the one retiring. It’s Cynthia and in a little less a month she will go into work for the last time.

Last time, I blogged on how we may travel east from Washington into Idaho , and possible go southward into Nevada . Well, we may just continue going east into Montana and then southward into Wyoming and Colorado . We have some friends in Grand Junction Colorado , who retired a couple years ago and tried this traveling thing. They went north and then back south to Arizona and across to New Mexico before heading our way into Texas . So, maybe we should return the favor and go see them.

We’ve always loved Colorado , the Rocky Mountains and all their grandeur. Yep, that’s what we should do. I made that decision just now, without even asking my wife.

She is no Ruffian

Rachel Alexandra is a great filly and one of the best to come along in many years. She won the Preakness Stakes but Mind That Bird was closing on her with every stride, he had a rough trip and was 4 wide on the final turn. He is a small horse but he can run and he can get the distance in the 1 1/2 mi Belmont in three weeks. I believe he will beat her.

Some have been trying to compare Rachel to Ruffian. Ruffian ran 5 races as a two year old in 1974 and 5 as a three year old in 1975. In those 10 races she won them all and either set a new track record for that race or tied the record. She was never headed. That means no other horse ever got their head in front of hers. Her final start was against the Ky Derby winner of '75 and he did get out of the gate ahead of her, that was the only time she was headed. She came right back and was pulling away from him when she broke down, it was very tragic, they worked all night trying to save her but could not.

Mind That Bird's daddy won the Belmont Stakes and kept Smarty Jones from winning the Triple Crown. So he should not have a problem making the distance. I don't think the filly can go that far she was already starting to struggle when she won the Preakness at 1 3/16 mi. And Mind That Bird was still coming. I think he will win the Belmont.

Another Prisoner Chasing Tale

Back when the Nikes were being used to protect all major cities and sensitive installations, I was a Radar Repair Man. I was sent to a new start up unit in Nebraska to take care of the Radars at Nike installations around Lincoln & Omaha.

When I arrived our permanent buildings were not ready yet so we were billeted in an old ordnance plant located out in the middle of an alfalfa field near Wahoo, Nebraska.

One day the Officer in charge of our unit called me in and gave me a military 45 side arm that I had never fired let alone qualified with. Then he posted me at the door of a room where a military courts martial was taking place. He gave me instructions that I would be given a prisoner to take to the stockade over at Offitt Air Force Base (I know my spelling is not good).

The prisoner was formerly a Sergent and was well known by everyone because he owed money to just about everyone including me. The Capt. told me to take him to an HFC office in Omaha so he could pick up some money on a loan he had applied for. I was to bring the money back so the Capt. could pay everyone the prisoner owed money to.

So I strapped on the 45 and took the paper work and prisoner and drove to the HFC office. After he receive his loan and gave me the money I asked how he felt, he said he would like to have a shot of whiskey before going to the stockade. So I drove to a bar, took the gun belt off and rolled the gun up and stuck it under the seat and went into the bar with the prisoner. He had at least 3 shots of whiskey and then was ready to go.

Taking him in and turning him over to the Air Force MP's was very difficult for me. They treated him like dirt, I had to get the paper work signed and get out of there before I went to war with them. Mercy!

Prisoner Chasing

All the talk of San Francisco and Treasure Island brought back memories of my time in Casual Company prior to being sent overseas. I had been stationed at Marine Corps Recruit Depot at Paris Island, South Carolina when orders came ordering me to report to Treasure Island for transportation to Fleet Marine Force Pacific. This was an enigmatic order to me, where was I being sent? The Marine Corps was engaged in the Korean War, maybe I was being sent there. The First Sergeant cleared it up for me. He told me that Fleet Marine Force Pacific was billeted at Pearl Harbor, Oahu, Hawaii. He said my orders were giving me a fifteen day leave, and five days travel time to get from South Carolina to Treasure Island in San Francesco harbor.

I got to Treasure Island late in the afternoon of my last day of travel time. After breakfast the next morning we, the marines staying In Casual Company, formed up in front of the barracks, we were all dressed in our fatigue uniforms ready to work. Marine sergeants who needed work details came to the front of our formation and told the sergeant in charge how many men he needed for a work detail. The sergeant would separate out that many men, put them in a formation, and the sergeant needing them would march the detail off to where he needed them. After about two groups had left the sergeant motioned me over and told me to go back into the barracks and get into a Class A Uniform and report back when I was dressed. A Class A Uniform was dress shoes, khaki trousers and shirt, tie, and a piss cutter khaki overseas cap shaped like an envelope. I was back in about five minutes and the sergeant told me to go over to a Jeep parked nearby. A Tech Sergeant in the Jeep told me to get in, which I did. We drove about two blocks to a building that said Military Police.

Inside I was given a black brassard that had the letters MP in the middle; I was given a web belt, leather holster, a forty five automatic pistol, and a clip of forty five caliber ammunition holding seven shells. I was given a set of orders, which the sergeant said were orders for me to pick up a General Court Marshall prisoner who had killed someone on Guam, and was sentenced to life imprisonment. “Where is he,” I asked?

“On a ship that just docked in the harbor,” he answered.

“How do I get there/”

“Outside there is a four door staff car with a driver that will take you to the ship,” he replied.

Sure enough the car was parked across the street so I walked over to the driver’s side and told the driver, a civilian, that I was ready to go get the prisoner. He told me to get in so I walked around the front of the car and got in the seat next to the driver. It wasn’t far to the ship and the driver parked as close to it as he could. People, mostly men but a few women, and even some children were coming down the gangplank. I stayed over to the right side and slowly worked my way up to the ship. I saluted the Officer of the Deck, the colors, and gave the O.D. my orders. He directed me to the Master Sergeant in charge of the prisoners. He had a corporal bring the prisoner to me. The prisoner was a fairly young man wearing a set of dungarees with the letter P stenciled on each leg of his trousers, and on the front and back of his jacket. I signed for the prisoner, making him my responsibility. When we got to the gangplank with the crowd of people leaving the ship I put my left hand on the prisoners collar, and guided him down the gangplank and to the waiting car that would return us to the Military Police Building.

At the car I opened the right rear passenger door and nudged the prisoner into the seat, I made him slide over so I could enter the same door. I wanted my right hand and the pistol on the side away from the prisoner. As I sat down in the back seat he asked me, “What would you do if I ran?”

“Shoot you.”

“In this crowd you would probably hit someone else.”

“Maybe,” I said, “but with seven rounds at least one would hit you.”

Would I have shot him if he tried to escape? I was not all the sure of the old Marine Corps bromide that the prisoner chaser would serve the time of the prisoner if the prisoner escaped, but I was not about to test its accuracy. When we got back into the Marine Barracks the T/Sgt. wanted to know, “How did you get him back so quickly?”

“It didn’t take all that long,” I said.

“You waited until all the civilians cleared the gangplank before you brought him down, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“My God, man, don’t you know you endangered all those lives?” The T/Sgt. Was definitely unhappy with me.

“If you wanted me to wait until the gangplank was clear you should have told me that before I left here,” I answered.

“I will not use you again.”

“That is all right,” I muttered as I began the walk back to Casual Company.

Shipin' over

John just inspired another 'tale' by mentioning San Fransisco, when I was in the Army I shipped over to the Philippines from San Francisco.

We were all mustered out in the receiving area about 2,000 men. The senior NCO in charge of handing all of us was up on a platform and the first name he called was, "Sergeant Hinds"! Mercy!
He called off a few more Sergeants names and then divided the whole group into units of about 100. Then he gave us instructions to keep these men busy for the rest of the day. It didn't take me long to figure out what to do. I called my group to attention and marched them around the buildings in the area to a spot that was out of sight and told them to disappear. :)

Magic number at four

Wow, the excitement is building in both of us. To say I am looking forward to Cynthia’s retirement would be an understatement. I’m just looking forward to traveling different places together and seeing different things, different parts of the country. Next year, we plan to go to California and travel up the west coast.

As I’ve mentioned more than once, California is where I used to be stationed (near San Francisco ), so I am familiar with the area. We went to San Diego on our honeymoon, paid for at the time by the LeTouneau University baseball coach. Actually, LeTourneau was in a baseball tournament at Point Loma, so I got to go along, courtesy of my job as SID. It was a wonderful trip. We rented a convertible and enjoyed everything under the sun, literally, even went to Mexico on a quick side trip. Now, we have friends living in San Diego , so it will be a chance to visit them.

I never went any further than a few miles north of Frisco, but we plan to go as far as Portland and Seattle , then maybe across to Idaho and Montana , or south from Idaho into Nevada . I did get to go to Boise , ID once with the Stephen F. Austin football team. SFA played Boise State , you know the team on TV with the blue artificial turf.

That’s the beauty of the trip, we don’t have to go anywhere, only where the highway takes us.

Here comes Rachel!

The Preakness Stakes, 2nd leg of the Triple Crown will be challenged by Rachel Alexandra. She is the filly that won the Kentucky Oaks by 20+lengths! She had a Beyers Speed rating of 108. The winner of the Kentucky Derby the next day was Mine That Bird with a Beyers Speed rating of 105. That is the first time since the Beyers speed rating has been used that the winner of the Oaks (for 3 yr old fillies) was greater than the winner of the Ky Derby!

She won with over 20 lengths, which means she was just galloping, no one was pushing her so she could have had a much higher Beyers Speed rating if she was pushed!

The owners of Rachel Alexandra had already declared that they would not run her against the boys. So another stable bought her for 5 million dollars and now they have already said they will run her in the Preakness against the boys as long as she trains good and says sound. The Preakness is run the 3rd Saturday in May after the Kentucky Derby which is run on the 1st Saturday in May.

I think she is capable of winning the Preakness which is a 1 3/16 mi. The Derby was 1 1/4 mi.

I don't know if she can go 1 1/2 mi which is the length of the Belmont Stakes the 3rd leg of the Triple Crown. I know Mine That Bird can, his daddy is Birdstone who won the Belmont Stakes and beat Smarty Jones and kept him from winning the triple crown.

It's gonna be a good race, I'm betting on Rachel Alexandra.

See ya at the window.
Bill

not a blog

Let’s see, why have I not written a blog lately?
A short journal of the past few days.
Thursday - Peggy and I spent the day "keeping" two of our great grandkids. We went to the Oklahoma Aquarium.
Friday - Peggy and I took our grandson Josh ( a graduating high school senior) to OKC to attend the American Indian Student Honors Banquet.
Saturday- I drove to Heavener and spent the day doing things with my mother.
Sunday- Attended Sunday School and Church - taught the senior adult mens class, returned to church that afternoon for a committee meeting , attended the evening service and stayed after the service to close up the buildings since that is one of my duties this week.
Monday - Peggy announced about 6:30 AM that her heart was "out of rhythm and was beating too fast"; so it was off to urgent care and then she was admitted to the hospital for overnight observation. She is now converted and back in "sinus" rhythm and doing fine.
Tuesday - back to the hospital to get Peggy checked out and to bring her home. Back to town for to get prescriptions filled and to pick grandson Josh’s "announcements" for him.
Tomorrow I need to finish up some craft projects for the 30 children I will work with at Wednesday night childrens church and take Peggys car in for service.
Well that is a somewhat typical week for me. I think I will "un-retire" an go back to work so I can get a day off and write a blog. I know the rest of y’all have plenty to do also but you must be more organized than I am. Keep those blogs coming.

To blog, or not to blog

Not suddenly, but it’s occurred to me that not nearly enough blogs are being written. The question is, why? We have no less than 25 authors signed up to write, but only a few take the time to write them. I write them, mainly because I enjoy writing, I guess. After all, I was a paid (sports) writer for 30 years or so, so maybe I’m trying to keep my skills honed up, if, in fact, I ever had any skills in the first place. Of the 25 authors, there are some excellent writers and more than plenty of stories/memories to tell.

A few of the authors even have been published. One, Glen Lazalier has written a book of short stories (I can’t recall the name of it now), and another, Bob Collins, has written several chapters for a book, but he doesn’t have them published yet. Bob Babcock has a publishing company, Deeds Publishing. Pat Burroughs, if I remember correctly, has been published at least in magazines, if nothing else. Others have some excellent stories to share – Chuck Hudlow, Bud Thompson, Jim Patterson, Bill Hinds, Colin Kelley, Craig Hall, etc. I’ve seen their writings, and I’ve been impressed.

Several, such as Darla Kay Hughes, Lynne Pitchford, Roger Cagle, Paul Riggins, Nita Norman, Bud Turman, among others, have either written one or two blogs or have shown an interest in writing one.

There aren’t many comments on the ones that are written either. Why, I don’t exactly know. I know the blogs are being read. I have gotten several emails telling me so.

The main question is WHY?