Chairs on the ice !

 

Chairs on the ice 

I recently had the pleasure of being invited to a unique day of Ice fishing.  Almost everyone there was at least 20 years older than I am. 

My dad invited me to go with him on one of his ice fishing trips with a bunch of his friends.  I jumped at the opportunity.

As I sat and listened to the group throughout the day it became evident that most of the group had two strong ties that bound their friendships. 

 Ties that have withstood the test of time and ties that pull them back together after long periods apart. 

Ties that created friendships that have lasted for decades.

One obvious tie was the place of employment they all shared.  The local paper mill served as a vehicle for introduction to some and an anchor for these lasting friendships.  They spent years working side by side producing paper and making a living to support their families in our small community.

The second important tether that held this diverse group together was their love of the outdoors.  Be it hunting, fishing or any other outdoor sport, they all had a love for the outdoors that was clear and strong.

Although disguised as an ice fishing trip, the real intention of this day became clear, it was to get good friends together in the outdoors, eat great food and tell stories.

The discussions always started with comments like “do you remember the time we” or “Whatever happen to so and so? I haven’t seen anything of him in……….”   “I remember one time I………….”  

I heard stories of success and stories of defeat.  I heard stories about their time in the mill and stories of their time afield.

There was a never-ending undertone of friendly ribbing within the group, pointing out one’s mishaps or blunders afield was always accepted with the same good-natured attitude as it was given. The day held many laughs.

Adventures from decades gone by were relived as though they had happened just yesterday. 

Of course, there was many stumbles and pauses in stories as memories have faded and recall is not what it used to be. But usually, with group input, the missing name or place was identified, and the story continued.

There was even a brief discussion about how the list of those who have passed is growing longer every day and may even be longer than those still with us. Although acknowledged by all the gears were shifted quickly to another subject and on they went. 

I sat in awe of the stories and the memories shared. Friendships clearly on display as each memory was voiced and details added by others who lived the same adventure.

As I sat there a sense of sadness overtook me. Sadness created from the realization that I will most likely never experience a day like this, except as an observer. 

Although I have friends that I have had for many years. Most live far away and distance and time have weakened the ties we once shared. 

Others share little in the way of a love of the outdoors and none are tethered by decades of working in the same place. 

Yes, I have a few friends who fish, John loves to fly fish and we do so often and will continue to create memories.

 We grew up together and fished often through our younger years but a 30-year gap in adventures leaves little to recall. 

 Heath is an outstanding Bass fisherman, and we will surely spend more time in a boat and time around a campfire as we also share the love of evening campfires. Yet our friendship is relatively new with little history to recall.  Our memories are yet in front of us.

 Darrin, although like a brother to me, lives 1500 miles away and most likely always will. 

The bonds that tie my generation have a much different focus than the ones that bound those that came before us. 

The generation I was allowed to be apart of today holds an ongoing connection and friendship that is rooted in the outdoors and rooted in a lifetime of community.  

This connection keeps them coming back to chairs on the ice, food on the grill and stories that get retold over and over again.  Even if they do need help from others to completely put all the pieces together.

Sadly, as I picture that same scene 20 years from now, when its my turn to tell the stories, If I sat in that same chair I am sitting in today, who would fill the others?

 Who will be there sharing a lifetime of memories?  

My immediate conclusion is that most likely those chairs would be  empty.  

But like the ghost of Christmas future, this doesn’t have to be the end of the story. I don’t have to accept the empty chairs.

I have 20 years before this day becomes my reality. That gives me 20 years to make sure those chairs are full. 

20 years to make sure stories are there to be told.

20 years to create the ties that pull good friends out on the ice to eat good food, sit in chairs, tell stories, and yes do a little fishing.

20 years……... 

Who wants to join me ?

Lucky Me !

 I take a lot of pictures in the course of a year . Most never see the light of day . 

Some end up on here to be shared with friends and family .

 I often try to stage many in an attempt to get the perfect shot . The perfect lighting or the right angle to make the photo unforgettable .  

Sometimes I just get lucky! Sometimes everything comes together to create the perfect photo ! 

Today that was the case . A random photo taken on  a whim as we were hiking provided me with a beautiful and perfect picture! 

No staging, no thought , just a random shot as I looked back and said “hey” 

A perfect smile on the beautiful lady who makes my world complete ! 

A smile that would melt anyone’s heart and a beauty that rivals those 20 years her junior !

How on earth did I get so lucky!

MR B

 Mr.B As I sit at my desk there are 7 manila envelopes laying in front of me. At the top of each envelope is a man’s name. A man who needs my signature to get out of prison. You see each of these men are doing time in the Alabama Department of corrections, each man has no home plan and without my signature on their application form, they will not be allowed to leave prison. My signature accepts them into the year long, on site program that I oversee. As Executive Director for the organization, my signature binds them to a year at our program driven facility. They will live confined to the location for a year under our supervision. Through a VERY structured program full of accountabilities and expectations, they have a chance rebuild habits and regain a standing within society that will hopefully lead to a prosocial Life. A life that hopefully never see’s them back on the inside again. I can only take 4 at this time. My capacity is 12 men living at the facility at any one time. Which ones to choose? There is no interview, just words on a form. A filled-out application and a long history of offenses coupled with a cycle of self-destruction that has led them to the point where I now control, with a signature, their immediate fate. I make my selection, make the phone calls, and move on with the work of the day. It’s somewhere around the year 2015/16 not sure exactly. This week my newly selected residents arrive. I will greet each one. Talk about the rules and the expectations. Let them know the importance of compliance and ensure they understand that the same signature that got them out, will surely put them back. I have done this dozens of times over the past 3 years. The cycle of men coming in and out of our facility averages about 20 a year. Some succeed and though hard work make it out the other end of the program a year later with a real chance at a successful future but sadly many do not. My signature has sent many back from where they came, to finish their sentences before being allowed to walk the streets again. The facility was basically house arrest for the men, they were expected to get jobs, pay room and board but when they were not at work, they were confined to the house with 11 other men and a house manager. They had programing daily, they had work assignments to keep the house in tip top condition and random and regular drug tests to ensure they were maintaining their sobriety. Visitors were allowed only by permission and monitored closely. It was a highly structured and highly controlled environment that if embraced by the men, could help create new habits and possibly a life free from incarceration. To check out to go to work each day the men had to climb the stairs past my office to get to the logbook where they would log out noting the time of departure and the time expected back. Most men quietly walked past my door hoping to not be noticed. Most had no interest in talking with me, not for who I was, but more for what I stood for. Full authority over their lives. Everyone except one of the new residents. I’ll call him Mr. B. “Good Morning Mr. Smith” came a greeting as one of the new men passed my door. “Good Morning Mr. B” I responded. Respect was required while living at the house and it was also always given. First names were not used. It was always Mr.? or Mrs.? For the sake of this story, I am going to use Mr. B to hide the identity of the actual person. He will probably read this and if he choses to identify himself that’s his choice, but I will call him Mr. B Immediately after signing out Mr. B heads back down the stairs. “Have a great day Mr. Smith”, “You also Mr. B.” Over the next few months while most checked in after work, hoping to sneak back down the stairs and into the house undetected by me. A hope driven by the desire to avoid questions or any interactions with me. Mr. B was different. Although each day greeted me with a “Good Morning Mr. Smith” and ended with “have a good evening Mr. Smith. About once a week Mr. B would stop by at check in at the end of the day and sit down at my desk for a chat. I learned a lot about Mr. B. He had a great family. He loved to fish. He was a skilled craftsman in his trade. A craftsman who was in high demand and made plenty of money. And he had a strong faith to help guide him. From the outside looking in Mr. B had everything he needed to be successful. Except one thing. Mr. B struggled with substance abuse and the many pains that accompany it. Over the next few months the talks grew longer and more varied. We would talk about the 4 F’s. Faith, Family, Fishing and Football. Oh, ya did I mention Mr. B was a HUGE Alabama Football fan? Mr. B also talked openly and honestly about his substance abuse issues. His battle to hold on to a life most folks in his situation would love to have and the grip drugs and alcohol had on his life. He had been down this path many times before. He was no stranger to the hard road paved by substance abuse. His level of self-awareness was amazing and yet the struggle was real, and I could always sense the fear in his voice when he talked about the possibility of the next “fall” or the next bad choice. Our friendship grew as time went on. A friendship limited by the roles we each played at that stage in life, yet a friendship none the less. Our talks always ended with “Nice talking with you Mr. Smith” and I reply “you also Mr. B.” Mr. B made it though the program and his day to leave was here. He had earned his right to rejoin his family. He earned the right to rebuild relationships with children and loved ones. He was already packed up and ready to head out. He came up to Log out one last time. As he passed my office, he loudly proclaimed “I’m going home Mr. Smith!” with an excitement that was hard to contain. He logged out and stepped into my office for one last chat before heading out to his home in another state. This would most likely be the last time we would see each other. I was proud of what he had accomplished, and I told him so, I was happy we played a small role in helping him get back to a life he truly wanted to live. A life full of happiness, family, fishing, faith, and Alabama football! . “I want to thank you Mr. Smith for everything you have done for me “he said as he stood up to leave. He held out his hand looking for a handshake. I shook his hand and said “from today on call me Al” He smiled for a moment and said. “Yes sir Mr. Smith”. He turned and walked away. It was the last time I would see Mr. B. But thanks, to Facebook we are able to stay in touch. Mr. B is still doing great and has regained the life he wanted so badly. He focuses on the 4 F’s and is doing just fine!!