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!!

November 11, 1938

To my father Norris and his brother Tom and sister Judy.

To my cousins Kenny, Andy, Alicia and Eric.

To my sisters Julie, Tammy, Debbie.

To the next generation, Jacob, Justin, Cooper, Login, Taylor, Grace, Olivia, Kelsey, Dani, Jami, Shayla, Jessie, Owen, Adam, and Ian

To the most recent generation,  Lilah May, Katherine Alice, Connor, Ethan, Ariella, Addalyn, Kira, and Alayna.  Unfortunately you missed out on the treasure the rest of us had the privilege of enjoying. Ask your parents and grandparent about it and they will have many stories to tell.

To all of us listed above our Journey has been wide and varied. We span from California to Texas, from Alabama to Maine.

Our combined journey began 82 years ago on this day November 11, 1938.

On that day, Alice Elizabeth Stevens said “I do” to Arnold G Smith in Canton Maine.

Their love was an example for us all as it never waned or showed any sign of weakness for 65 years. 

For 65 years they were united and watched in joy as their family grew.

Gramp left us on July 8, 2003,  leaving Grams side for the last time.

Gram lasted only 4 more years before she joined Gramp and again they were together.

I know he is eating apples and cheese and she is knitting a pair of liners to go inside leather mittens.

They are sitting side by side rocking yet saying very little, simply enjoying the fruits of their love and all that it has become.  We miss you both!

 Katherine Alice Smith

She stumbles around the house at a pace and with a stagger that would seem destined for disaster. 

She darts from place to place, object to object in what appears to be a random display of hap hazard choices and yet each direction, each mission has a purpose and a goal.

She may pause only a moment to look at something or to touch something and then be on her way, but each tangent has a purpose, each direction has a goal. Once that goal is achieved it’s on to the next.

She has a sense of exploration that drives her every step, what is that? What does that feel like? Can I eat that? Does it move when I try to push it? Does it make noise?

She scurries around at a pace that would tire an Olympic marathon runner and yet she seemingly never slows.

At 16 months old she knows every inch of her home, at least the part she is allowed to explore. And yet every day begins a new mission to find something new or find the changes.

Move a chair and she will notice, take a box away and she looks around trying to see where it went. She is keenly aware of her surroundings.

She loves books and has many.  What was once a patient journey  through each book as someone turned the pages and read to her,  has now become a self-guided tour that quickly scans through each page with little hesitation as though simply checking to make sure no pages are missing.

The pets all know her antics and some give space to her as she meanders about, while others lay waiting for the eventual collision as though wanting and looking forward to the interaction.

Her world is hers to orchestrate and she does!

Our role is to support and help her when needed. Any failure in that support will be addressed immediately and adherence to the plan is expected!

She is also very helpful around the house! She loves to help with dishes, throwing her dirty diapers in the trash and finding ANYTHING you may have dropped on the floor by accident. 

 And cheese. The girl loves cheese!

Eating is a pleasure to be enjoyed to the fullest! All forms of vegetables, meats, grains, and muffins are greeted with enthusiasm and anticipation.

Messes while eating are never frowned upon and always encouraged! Cleanup is just a bath away.

Feel the texture of that squash between your fingers. Smoooooth!  How does it look on my face?? 

Squish the muffin to find out what those little bits inside are, not sure but they sure taste good!

She is being raised in a home that values exploration and discovery. 

A home that is not afraid of getting a little messy for the sake of a good meal or a good adventure!

A home that requires kindness, manners, and compassion for other as a nonnegotiable expectation.

And most importantly a home filled with love and acceptance.

What more could a grandpa wish for!

Fall ? or Fall !!

 Many of us dread the thought of its arrival!   

The mere thought of it can send some people into a panic! 

Not for what it brings but for what comes after its short visit.

 Although many of us dread the coming of fall.

It’s not fall’s fault at all, no we always celebrate and embrace fall in all of its glory once it gets here ! 

No we dread fall because it is with us such a short time. 

Although a very enjoyable time, it soon gives way to the inevitable cold weather that is never far behind! 

Leaves are only pretty for a week or so , cool air can turn to frost and snow at any time .  That is the reality we dread not fall itself .  

We all love fall! 

Yes, fall is here in Maine! 

Lisa and I are celebrating every minute we can because we know within a blink of an eye  it will be gone . The world will be brown and cold and then eventually all will be white. 

Spring will be a long way away !

Today we drove around to see the wonder that is fall in Maine . It’s not peak color yet but is pretty non the less. 

It was also cloudy all day so the colors are somewhat muted but we had a great time!  I am sure we will post more when we get a chance to enjoy them in the sunshine ! 

We all enjoy the bright colors that fall brings but today I took pictures of the other signs of fall as well.

Flowers that have given way to seed pods ensuring we have more beauty next year. 

Grass that has all gone dry, yet stands tall waiting for snow to lay it down for a winters rest. 

Although short , fall really is a beautiful time of year!

 Prove that you can’t! 

As we step away from the Jeep, we are at the trailhead of Big Spencer Mountain. 

It’s a two-mile hike to the top of the Mountain.  The reports are that the 360-degree view is well worth the climb. We shall see.

Our walk takes us along an old Jeep trail. The trail aided the fire tower attendants, who for years sat at the top of the mountain with binoculars looking for smoke. 

From 1905 until 1991, the Maine Forest Service used manned mountaintop towers for fire detection.  

Many of the mountain trails we hike today had their origins as access to fire towers.

As we started our hike the trail rose slightly with a moderate incline. It was not hard walking as it was a washed-out jeep trail that was almost 6 feet wide.  

A great way to start our journey.

About a quarter of the way in the Jeep trail ended, at that point it became a more typical walking trail.  A narrow foot path with vegetation and rocks on the outer edges. Although there were some steep areas, for the most part it was an easy climb.

We knew by the elevation we had to cover (1900 feet) that eventually this ease of travel would end.  About halfway up we broke open onto a small grassy plateau, the plateau had a picnic table, fire ring and an outhouse. It was a great spot to take a break. 

The views were beautiful!

The day was crystal clear with almost no clouds or haze and temperatures in the mid 60’s. It was perfect for hiking.

After we had admired the view, a view that went on for as far as you could see, we got back to business. 

Behind us jutting high into the sky was the rest of the mountain. We had barely made it halfway! We could tell by the near vertical slope before us that our challenge had just begun!

Within five-minute travel from our grassy plateau the trail took a pitch upward that would not ease for at least another mile.

Our path went from a gravel walking trail to something that more resembled a rock-climbing adventure in Yellowstone!

A trail so steep at times you could reach straight out towards the mountain and touch the rocks. There had been 4 ladders and 2 ropes installed because the terrain was just too steep to climb in places. 

We were clearly facing a climb more difficult than either of us had ever attempted.

After a short way, we stopped to talk about our plan. Both of us were feeling the effects of too many ice creams and too much time on the couch and not enough exercise.  

 Through our huffing and puffing, the sweating and heart racing I asked the question.  Should we turn back?

Now Lisa was clearly exhausted,(so was I)  and we were only a little over halfway. THE EASY HALF!

Nope! She said quickly, Let’s just slow down, take our time, and get to the top! 

We had driven 3 hours to get there and she was determined to make it to the top.

So, on we pushed. Slowly, methodically we continued to climb the side of Big Spencer Mountain.  

Each step was planned and executed with caution. One wrong step and well…. You know.

We found ourselves only going about 75 to 100 feet at a time and then needing to stop and rest. Hearts racing and lungs straining to catch up.

The more we went up the prouder I was of Lisa. She was clearly more tired than she had been in a long time. 

Some stops saw shaky knees and trembling hands, yet any talk of retreat was quickly met with defiance. 

I didn’t come this far to quit now; I am going to see the top! She said 

And see the top we did. After about 2.5 hours we finally broke through the tree line onto the crown of the mountain. 

It was spectacular! 

Clearly the hardest trip we have ever taken!

 Our effort was rewarded with some of the most beautiful views we have ever seen!   Well worth the effort for sure!

I labeled this story “prove that you can’t” for a reason.  Some would challenge that it should be “prove that you can” but that was not how I was rationalizing it as we pushed upward.

The idea came to me as we ascended the steepest parts of the mountain. Had I known how hard it was going to be we would have  never made the attempt.

 We would have missed the outstanding views. We would have also missed the satisfaction of finishing the trek and attaining our goal!

I had major knee reconstruction in 2006. Ever since that time I have refrained from many of the things I love to do based on my belief that “I can’t do that”   “It will be too much for my knee”.

We all do that. We all make excuses why we can’t do something for fear of failing at our attempt.

 The fear of looking bad or having to say we didn’t make it!  We failed! Something no one likes to say.

I can’t do that, I am too out of shape.

I can’t climb Katahdin I am too old, and my knee couldn’t take it.

I can’t ski anymore , I am too old and my knee!

I can’t hike the Appalachian trail that’s for young people!

I can’t 

I can’t

I can’t

We all have our list of the things we label “I can’t”.

I decided when I got to the top of Big Spencer mountain, an accomplishment I was sure (before today)  I would not have been able to do,  that from now on, I am going to “prove” that I can’t do something . 

 Instead of sitting on the sidelines assuming I can’t do it. I am going to prove I can’t. 

My new assumption is I can do ANYTHING until I prove I can’t!

My guess is there will be many things I will be able to do that I never thought I could. Getting to the top of Big Spencer was one of them…… DONE!!!

Sure, there will be things I won’t be able to finish, trails I will turn back on. Adventures that prove to be too much. I know that.

 But instead of sitting on the sidelines and assuming I can’t do it and missing the adventure completely. I am going to PROVE that I can’t.

 That way at least I will know for sure what my limitations are. 

For my efforts I will have the memories of the attempted adventures, not as failures, but as journeys that in and of themselves, will be memories well made.

The only truly failed adventure is the one you consider doing, the one you wish you could do, but the one you never take that first step on! 

That is the only truly failed adventure. 

Everything else is memories made, no matter the outcome!

I challenge everyone who got this far in my ramblings to 

“Prove what you can’t do” and cherish the results! 

I know I will!

Greatest Show on Earth !

 Did you lock the truck?

Yes, I said as we begin our walk.  

We parked by the gate. A gate that was not there ten years ago when we last ventured into Grand Falls. Ten years ago, you could drive all the way into the waterfall, BUT due to people abusing the land and tearing up the road they put a gate up, so we must walk the last mile. I don’t mind if it helps maintain the beauty of this spectacular place.

To get to Grand falls you must head to Eustis Maine, turn right onto Big Eddy road.  From that turn its 19 miles of dusty dirt road and several turns before you hit the gate.

“ok good, I’m leaving my purse under the seat”

It’s an easy walk in since we are following an old dirt road. It was a bright sunny 70-degree day when we left the jeep.  A perfect day for a hike. 

As we walk along all we can hear is the sounds of nature, birds and squirrels skittering on the forest floor.  A crow announcing our arrival and sending a warning to all the other creatures in the area that humans have arrived. 

As we get halfway in, we begin to hear the dull roar of our destination drawing us in as we move along the road. “ Sounds like a good flow”  Lisa comments,  we quicken our pace in anticipation.

Soon all you can hear is the water rushing over the falls. All other noises have faded away.

As we arrive at the river’s edge, we realize we are above the falls. We can see the river disappearing over the cliff and a cloud of mist floating into the air from below, but we cannot see the falls.

How do we get to the down stream side? I asked.

Lisa quickly responded “I think this trail will take us there. She was right. Within a minute we step around the corner of the thick brush that lines the rivers edge and Grand falls and all its glory is right in front of us. 

To me this is one of the most spectacular waterfalls in Maine. It’s not the largest or the tallest. But to me it is one of the best we have to offer. The drop is over 40 feet and its over 100 feet across. It is truly a wonder to see and hear!

Ringling Brothers made the claim that their shows were the “Greatest Show on Earth”. I have been to several in my distant past. I must admit it was a great show, but I have to ask you. Would they put on a show if no one came to see the performance? Would the shows on the  Las Vegas strip preform every night to empty seats? How about the fourth of July fireworks? A splendid display enjoyed by everyone young and old, but would they set them off if no one came to watch? 

If there were no cheering crowds, no awe-struck fans, no standing ovations would any of those things we enjoy take place?  I think not.

Yet day in and day out.  24 hours a day, 365 days a year, without fail, with no intermission, no curtain calls, no grand finally, nature provides what truly is the “Greatest Show on Earth”!

 Although worthy of constant admiration and awe, it seldom gets the appreciation it deserves.  

The spectacular show that nature performs for us every day, without fail, simply awaits our arrival and our appreciation. We just need to show up and enjoy the show !

What shows have you seen lately? Make sure the next one has everything to do with nature! 

I promise you will not be sorry that you made the effort! 

It “IS” the greatest show on earth!

 Tracks?

Music has always been a very important part of my life. As an awkward teen who was not good at sports or high on the social ladder, music was something I could immerse myself in and feel good about.  I would sit in the basement of my childhood home with a set of old clunky headphones on while spinning vinyl after vinyl as time slowly slipped by. I knew every song and every lyric! My vinyl collection was impressive for sure! 

Music was almost a companion at times, something that was always there and could always be counted on no matter what was going on outside of the lyrics.

I never lost that love of music although it has changed over time.  I now listen to all kinds of music and enjoy it all. 

Although I like all music there are some musicians I do not care for.  One of those artists is Bruce Springsteen. The Boss!   I am not sure why, but I just never cared for his music and for the most part do not listen to him still today. I will even change the channel when he is on instead of listening, it’s that bad. 

This morning while heading to work, his song “one step up” came on.   That song is one of the few songs he sings that I enjoy so I left it on the station and drove on.

I have heard this song hundreds of times over the decades since it was written.  It’s a song about the struggles of being in love and maintaining a healthy relationship. In the song, clearly things are not going well. 

It is well written, and I love the way the lyrics and the melody work together. It is a good song for sure!

This morning something was different.  As I listened and sang along with the lyrics “When I look at myself, I don't see the man I wanted to be, somewhere along the line I slipped off track.” A line I have heard and sung many times. Yet this morning it stuck. Why?

 Music often does that to me. Nothing elicits more emotions in me than music.  Good, bad or somewhere in between.  Music can trigger emotional responses that clearly, I do not understand, nor can I explain. It can make me feel happy, it can make me feel young again and it can even bring a tear to the corner of my eye at times.

So, I started thinking about that line as I drove through the foggy morning and why it hit me today?.  Did I have a track?  Did I slip off?   What was my track and how do I know if I have been a success or a failure?  How far did I slip, and did I ever get back on track if I did slip?

So, as I drove on, I started looking back in the rear-view mirror of my life.

I never went to college. Yes, I attended trade school (one year of a two-year course) and learned to become a carpenter but I have no degree.  When I look at the focus or (track) I had as a young man, clearly my goal was to become “someone”!  To make a name for myself! To prove I could be successful without the education everyone around me had or was getting. It became an obsession that I did not realize at the time nor did I plan.

How did I do with this life track? Well, actually pretty good. 

 While at BIW I became a full time 110-ton double block bridge Crane operator and rigger while having no formal heavy equipment training or experience. Not an easy task.

What about my time at Mead Paper Company? Another great success. With no collage education I managed to secure a role within the safety field leading the implementation of a groundbreaking behavioral based safety process. After spending a couple years doing that, I was offered a Job within the Human Resource department as an Organizational Development Facilitator. 

Really? Again, no education no training.  My success there lead to an appointment on a corporate reengineering project which found me flying around the country each week. Spending days/weeks away from my family. 

I had assignments in Escanaba Michigan, Chillicothe Ohio, Dayton Ohio, Phoenix City Alabama, and Rumford Maine. I ended up having a condo in Phenix city for 18 months where I would fly down on Mondays and TRY to get home for the weekend.  I guess I was clearly on track with my goal to be “Somebody”. I was working within a corporate level project for MEAD Paper Company! I was “someone”!

As I sat at home one rare morning drinking coffee, I got a phone call. Bass Angler Sportsman’s Society in Montgomery Alabama was calling.  The worldwide leader of bass fishing tournaments and all things bass fishing.  They had an interest in me leading their worldwide membership organization.  2400 organizations within the United states and 6 foreign countries. Wow! Now that is SOMEBODY!!  A one of kind role with a worldwide presence.  I will take it!

This “track” to become “someone” took from 1986 to 2000 when the offer came in and the family’s bags were packed for Montgomery Alabama.

 If you look at it through the lens of becoming “someone” I had been a smashing success! 

With no formal education I had achieved levels of success, acquired positions, and I been given opportunities I clearly did not deserve nor did I earn if you take your measurement through the academic process that normally governs successful careers.  No MBA, No masters. Zippo! 

Success at being “somebody”??  Absolutely! 

But at what cost? 

 Late hours at work.  Years on the road. Missed birthday parties and events for my kids. A wife going to bed alone and tired after a hard day doing her best to raise boys while I traveled. Oh by the way while still working full time. 

There was love that was never made. Hugs that were never given and tears that were never dried.

A Delta frequent flyer account that hit 187,000 miles. Yes! I was first on every plane I flew on.

 Truly a high price to pay just to be “somebody”.

What about the husband track? Father track????  

Sadly, epic fail! 

In 2003 it all came tumbling down.  BASS had been purchased by ESPN and they had new ideas of what they wanted to do and how they wanted to do it. My resistance to change and my stubborn drive to do what “I” thought was right cost me EVERYTHING I had worked so hard to attain. 

On July 7, 2003 I was fired from ESPN for “not supporting the new mission". I went from a six-figure income to Alabama unemployment of $243 dollars a week for a family of 4.

I went from being “somebody” a BIG “somebody”, traveling, meeting with presidents (had lunch with the president of Mexico at the time, President Vicente Fox, which was cool!) and foreign dignitaries. I went from being well known and recognized within the bass fishing world, to working part time at a local hardware store and tackle shop. 

My “Somebody” the “Someone“ I had put so much time into, sacrificed so much for and put so much value on, was gone! 

At that point, my track switched to survival.  “All” I had left was the things I had placed such little time and value into over the years. A loving, faithful, and patient wife, my healthy kids, and my own health.  MY definition of “SOMEBODY” was gone in the blink of an eye.

Survival track it was, and survive we did. New jobs, rearranged budgets and a sense of humility and focus on family that had been missing for so many years. 

It was truly the best thing that could have ever happen to me! 

It took a few years for us to get back to being comfortable again as the world defines comfortable, but we made it.

Survival track? Success!

What is my current track? A question I had not thought about until this morning. 

Well, I guess it can be summed up with one word.   “Good”.  

 I have transitioned from survival track, to a track of wanting to be good.

I want to be a good husband.

I want to be a good Dad, a good Grandpa

a good son, 

a good friend. 

A good father-in law 

I want to give good hugs. 

I want to make people laugh when I can.

I want to make people smile and think with my writing.

And when I lay down beside my wife each night, I want to feel good about the current “track” I am on.

How am I doing on this current track? Not sure? Progress is usually better judged looking back.  Somedays I think I am headed in the right direction, other days I’m looking in the rear-view mirror of life thinking “if only”.

So, I guess when I look in the mirror, who I see is someone who has had many “tracks” in his life. Some ended well. Others not so much!

 If I could go back and make one change, one change that could alter the course of my life. One change that would reset the tracks I would take in that life.

 I would simply replace one word in my life. 

Just one word!

I would replace the word “somebody” With the word….

 “Good”

Evan W. Plourde

(1938-2009)

As we slowly walk back to the car along the path that follows the Long Falls section of the Dead River, my eye catches a flash of sunshine reflecting from the bottom of a big tree. 

To investigate I had to step off the path only a few feet.

There under the tree was a small makeshift memorial.   There was an iron pipe driven into the ground with a plaque attached to the top that read “Evan W. Plourde, 1938-2009”

Clearly it had been there for some time.  The pipe was rusted and the plaque was tarnished from years of weather.

There were several additions to the memorial that had been added over time.

 A small American flag was perched over the memorial. 

 Measuring only a couple inches, it was still clearly visible and standing guard exactly when it had been placed.

The material was rotting from age and exposure. The flag had slidden down the tiny pole that helped keep it in place. 

Although old and ravaged by time, the flag still flew over the tiny scene.

There were also two crosses that had been brought to the site over the years.

One appeared to be made of bundled sticks on a wire frame that was shaped like a cross.  The wire was badly rusted, but the cross still held together. There was a faded plastic flower and fake ivy wired to the cross. 

Based on the level of fade they had been there many years. 

The final piece that had been added to the site was a small wooden cross.  

It seemed to be made of pressure treated wood as it was holding up better than the others and had the tell tale green hue . It may have been a more recant addition, I am not sure. 

Stapled to this cross was also a faded plastic flower and fern.

As Lisa and I stood there admiring the little site, we speculated the many possible reasons for the memorial.

Had Mr. Plourde’s life ended here on the river while fishing or exploring? 

At 71 years of age he may have taken his final moments in the rugged landscape that surrounds this beautiful location. 

Had his family memorialized the location of his final day? 

 A logical reason for such a fitting memorial for sure.

Or was this memorial placed here due to a deep love of the area by Mr. Plourde after his passing?

 Had this location somehow played a significant role in his life. 

Had he proposed to the love of his life at this beautiful location? 

Was it a favorite fishing hole that a lifetime was spent exploring?  

Was he a military veteran who found solitude and escape in this area when the demons of a war gone by crept into his daily life?

There are any number of possibilities as to why someone erected and continues to maintain this small memorial to Mr. Plourde.

 I may never know the real reason for this memorial in the woods of Western Maine. 

No, I probably never will, but there is one thing for sure.

 It worked!

For a short period of time, on a sunny day in August of 2020.

Two strangers took a moment to think about and in our way, honor Mr. Evan W. Plourde.

Who he was, how he died and most importantly, what that area meant to him, we may never know.

 But for a moment in time, 11 years after his death, two complete strangers hiking in the woods of Maine, gave thought to Mr. Evan W. Plourde.

And now ……………………………………. So have you.

 

 When I received the invitation I was thrilled, I had heard about this trip for years and the stories that came from it. 

Excited to get the invitation at the time, I was also saddened by the reason for that invitation. 

You see John's family has been going into this area to fish for trout and explore the region for over 80 years. 

Generations of his family have hiked and explored the region in pursuit of the iconic Maine Brook Trout. 

Fathers have introduced sons and daughters to the area for generations, while only trusted friends were allowed access to the tradition over the years. 

Even Johns mother was taken into this area as a small girl and floated on homemade rafts with her dad to get to good fishing spots.

For decades it was the yearly outing of family and only the closest of friends and colleagues.

For the last 20 years John, his brother and their father Bob kept the tradition going. Each year they would come together to embarked on a 5-day trip to chase trout and continue this long-standing tradition. A tradition for Bob that was simply apart of who he was.

Sadly, the ravages of time forced Bob to end his long standing tradition last year. He simply could not make the trip anymore. For the first time in over 50 years Bobs presence would not be felt at camp. 

Johns brother also went in a different direction leaving John to continue the tradition alone. So last year John made the journey alone and spent the week fishing just the same. Sadly, John was the last man standing in a tradition that looked destined to finally fade away.

Fast forward to a discussion last fall where the invitation came for me to join this tradition.

 An invitation to possibly carry on the traditions of the past while starting a new chapter.  

I quickly accepted while not completely realizing the gift I had been given.

 What started as the two of us, soon developed into Johns son Isaac accepting an invitation to come out for a few days to “give it a try" .

An invitation also went out to my son Justin who would have gladly attended if not for his few week-old new baby girl, he reluctantly declined, but a strong commitment for future years was given. 

We just got back from the trip and it was a great success. 

John and I spent 5 days following in the footsteps of the generations that preceded him.  

We caught trout all week with an effort fit for the much younger. We were up by 3:am each day to head afield and returned most days well after dark. 

Throughout the week there was always an eye to the past, 

“dad and I used to” …  

“one-time uncle Bill and dad” ………. 

“You should have seen the time Mark and I “. 

It became clear to me just how much a part of Johns life this trip was and how important it was to him that it continue. 

And continue it will! Johns son had a great time and vowed to return every year. I loved every second of it and cannot wait for next year already and Justin is looking forward to it also after hearing my tales of the week.

So, we have started a new chapter in this book, a chapter with a remnant from the past combined with new faces and a promise for the future. 

Each year we will make new memories without forgetting the ones from yesteryear.

 We will tell stories of those who came before us to ensure their memories live on.

 We will exaggerate fishing tales in an attempt to keep up with those who have done so successfully for 80 years. 

Bob has passed on and we are all saddened by our loss, but we know every year he will be there with us as we embark on this adventure.

I know Bob will be silently guiding us through the woods as we head into the remote ponds each year.  He will be guiding our flies and delicately laying them on the water as we wait for the trout to take our offering.

John has assumed the role of his father, the torch has been passed and he is now the leader of this new effort. He is the camp cook, the organizer and the gate keeper of the knowledge that only he can share. 

 Bob would be proud of how this next chapter has unfolded and how his son is leading the way.

 You will be missed Bob but never forgotten. 

We will do our best to carry on the traditions you have passed down from those who came before you, share the countless stories you shared with us over the years, while we  make new ones of our own. 

The dedication you showed to this tradition will carry on!

 How?

36 years ago, on this day in June my life changed forever.  In a ceremony that to me sadly, was not much more than a formality at the time. Something I “had” to do to get on with my life.

 I married Lisa Crooker on June 2, 1984.

She was all I ever wanted and all I ever needed but it would be years before I figured that out.  All I knew at the time was that she was beautiful, sexy and I thought I was in love with her. (Oh, how little I knew about real love)

It would be many years before I knew just how much she completed me. How she softened my edges, cooled my temper and rained in my crazy ideas. 

Years before I knew she provided the stability I needed in my life to be happy and years before I truly knew what love was and how much I really did love her!

She would become my best friend without my even realizing it.

She has quietly sacrificed so much for me and has never gotten or expected a thank you for her efforts.

She wanted to go to college for computer science right after high school, but I wouldn’t wait. I had a life to live and if she wanted to be with me it was time to move forward. I would not be tied down to any collage, town or schedule. So, she gave up her desire to go to collage and we were off. Something I truly regret taking from her.

When a Job in Alabama called after 16 years of marriage and it was a great opportunity for “ME”, she gave up her career and her life in Maine and we moved the family 1400 miles to middle Alabama. A sacrifice she made with no hesitation or complaint. She left behind lifelong friends and family so I could follow a dream. A dream that faded just 3 short years later.

While I chased a career so I could “make a name for myself” she selflessly stayed home and raised our two boys. I would spend weeks on the road while she worked a job, took care of the kids and kept the house going. Some years I would be on the road up to 200 nights a year. 

“I” had the pleasure of traveling to every state in the United States except North Dakota, all the providences of Canada and Mexico within a short three-year span.

 I did all this while she sat at home fighting with teenage boys and silently dealing with the loneliness caused by my absence.

The nights I was not there to hold her were many! Too many nights she had to struggle alone to make it all work, while I enjoyed life on the road seeing some of the best places in America. Sleeping in high priced hotels and eating at the best of restaurants around this country. 

So I ask you how?

In 36 years, she has been laid off once from a job. I have had 19 jobs!   I have gone home 4 times with a pit in my stomach to give the news that my job had been eliminated and I was unemployed. I have gone home twice with the embarrassment of having to say I had been fired and our income was now cut in half overnight. 

Through all the years of upheaval and change she still made the budget work and we never missed a payment and never fell behind. 

So I ask you how?

She never blamed me for the turmoil I brought into our life together, and boy there was a lot of it over the years.  She accepted it and made the best of it. If she resented the upheaval and the chaos that seemed to follow me at times. I never new it, I never heard it.

We have lived in 3 different states in at least 11 different houses and 4 different apartments. She made each one a warm and loving home for us.

We went from Maine to Alabama, Alabama to Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania to Maine, Maine back to Alabama, and finally Alabama back to Maine ! (Oh how I have learned to pack a moving truck !) 

You see if there is one thing I bring to this 36-year love affair, it is the element of the unknown.  What now? when? Where?  

Good or bad I seem to be drawn to the element of change. Maybe I get bored, maybe I am just not satisfied with an “average” life. I really do not know what drives my desire to always be on the go but I am. 

Some change caused by me, some thrust upon us! Yet through it all she remains right beside me.

That is the one thing I can always depend on, the fact that Lisa will always be by my side. She will always be there to love and support me. To protect me from myself and lift me up to accomplish what I can. 

So, I ask you again........ How?  

How do you thank someone like that? What tribute is befitting such a level of commitment and sacrifice?

How do you ever repay the years of love, support, kindness and understanding she has brought to our life together.

 How?

How do you thank someone who provided years of love you did not deserve; support you did not earn and forgiveness you did not asked for?

How? 

Happy Anniversary Lisa, I love you!

And yes, 

Thank you!

 Mr. Peeps!

This story is almost a year old.

I wanted to write about it before now but just never got around to it. I think the new life that spring bring to us inspired me to put this story together.

Until August of last year, Lisa and I had our camper at Dummers Beach in weld Maine. Our seasonal site was along the brook that led into the pond. It was a great location as we could sit at our lot and had direct access to the brook that slowly flowed by. My chair was often feet from the brook.

When I first saw Mr. Peeps he was with his mother and little brother. No, I don’t know for sure either of them were boys but it’s my story, so I get to decide.

I knew Mr. Peeps and could always pick him out of a ducky crowd because unlike other ducks he had a small white patch on the side of his head.

I was never close enough to be able to see what it was, but it was how I identified him. That and he was also ALWAYS peeping, Peep, Peep, Peep!

Not only was he always last in the line of ducks with mom and brother leading him, he seemed to be always falling behind. A fact that only increased the peeping that came from Mr. Peeps.

The brook we camped by was a great place for a mama ducks to raise their ducklings. There must have been 5 or 6 families swimming up and down the brook each day. Some with up to 4 or 5 ducklings.

They grew fast as the weeks went on, but nothing changed. Our brook was full of duck families and one was always Mr. Peeps and his mom and brother.

When we would arrive at the camper from being away, I would always check out the brook and see who was there. By early July the Ducklings were about half the size of their momma’s.

We had been gone on a camping trip to Lubec Maine for a long weekend. When we got back to the camper something was different. The duck families were doing their usual swimming up and down the brook, but this time Mr. Peeps was alone? No mom? No brother? Mr. Peeps just went up and down the brook loudly peeping, in my mind, looking for his family. A family who clearly was not there.

As I watched Mr. peeps for the next couple of weeks he would try to merge in with one of the other families but unfortunately none would have him. They would always scurry off leaving him alone, peeping loudly as they left him behind.

Mr. Peeps never stopped peeping but finally gave up on trying to find a new family to join.

The last time I saw Mr. Peeps he was the size of an adult duck. He was still swimming up and down the stream and he was still peeping, only now it was a quack, an adult quack.

Although he never found that surrogate family, I knew he was going to be alright. He had grown into a full-size duck and with all indications was healthy.

I do not know what happen to mom and brother. It’s a wild area and I have my suspicions, but I cannot be sure.

Depending on your outlook on life, this story is either a terrible tale about of the cruelty of life and the pain it can bring. Its about lose, loneliness, and the worst of what can happen in life.

OR

It is the story of triumph and the strong desire to survive of a little duck. A duck that beat the odds and survived to become an adult.

I choose to believe in the triumph and strong desire to live angle.

I hope this spring he has a family of his own and he teaches them how to .............PEEP !

Why?

 And that's why !

“I read about this waterfall on the stream that runs by the cabin. There is no path to it. We can drive to within a mile of the falls and then hike the rest of the way. It’s only a mile into the falls, you want to see if we can find it!” I asked knowing what the answer would be  “Sure!” she said without hesitation.

Fast forward 2 hours and we are deep into some of the toughest terrain we have ever hiked .  The ground was steep and rocky. There was no trail and I was trying to pick my way along the best I could.  We would go through areas so thick you just had to lean forward and push the small trees out of the way. Then we would be on a hillside so steep we could barely stand up. By all accounts it was miserable hiking. 

Now I am 6 foot 2 inches tall and Lisa is 5 foot 2 inches tall. I always have to remember her legs are about half as long as mine as we do any hiking. I had to make sure I was taking it slow so she could keep up.

Every so often I would say “You making it?”     All I would hear coming from a few feet behind was a labored voice saying “YUP” as cheerfully as she could muster. 

I knew this was hard on us both, we are not young anymore and even at 25 this would have been a challenge, but on we trudged. GPS in hand and end goal plotted.

I remember thinking to myself “boy this waterfall better be good” as we slowly worked up and down the side of the mountain trying to reach our destination.

When we finally got there my heart sank as I pushed through the thick alders and could see the falls.

 It was MUCH smaller than I thought.  CRAP! I thought!! 

 Lisa made it through the alders and looked at the falls.

 I waited for what seemed like minutes for the “REALLY!” this is what I killed myself to get to?? I have new bruises and scratches and I took a chunk out of my leg and I’m bleeding, FOR THIS ??? ” and she would have been right and justified for her frustration.

But although all of that was true, and she was bleeding. She looked at the falls and said, “Isn’t that pretty!”   

THAT is exactly why I love her so much!  She always sees the best in every situation. Instead of focusing on the nightmare we went through to get there ( and what we needed to go BACK through to get back to the truck) she saw the beauty of the moment and sat on the rocks to soak it in.

How I got so lucky I will never know!

 The Lake

As I look over, I can see her hand tightly gripping the door handle. She literally has a white-knuckle grip on the door.  We just slid about a foot to the left as we try to make our way up the steep trail . A trail that was a gravel road and is now covered with snow and the snow is getting deeper as we drive on. I can see her body is very tense and she is not liking life right now.  

Don’t worry as soon as I can find a spot I’ll turn around. As I look over there is both relief and an immediate easing of the tension that she was feeling. Like the flip of a light switch my announcement that the journey was over was welcomed!

Let’s go back 6 hours to earlier in the day.  As we drink coffee and I watch the local news another day of stress is starting to build , another day in a long string of days that seem to be building more intense as each day ticks by “ Open our state your killing it !”     “Stay at home, Stop being selfish!”      “How can you be so careless as to want more people to die “  “ How can you not see businesses and families are going to be ruined “

Each side is right! Each side is  wrong ! There is no easy answer and it is getting uglier every day!

We need to get away for the day!  No news! No Facebook!  No arguing with some and defending with others! Just me and you alone with Sirius Radio (which has no local news!)  

Let’s head north and see if we can get to the lake! I said.  When I say "the lake" I don’t even need to say the name, she knows what I am talking about,  it’s my favorite place on earth and I haven’t seen it since May of last year!

Great idea lisa said with a smile!

We loaded her new Jeep and off we went. 

I forgot my Phone! she announced a short ways up our road! Great!! I said with clear annoyance in my voice. I swung into a driveway and headed back. We both were stressed and working hard not to lash out at the other.

Finally, we were on our way. The more we drove the more relaxed we became. By our first coffee stop in Norridgewock I could feel the stress beginning to wane. An hour later we hit Dover Foxcroft and I was reaching a level of calm I have not felt in weeks.  By the town of Milo, I am feeling great as I am nearing the final leg in our journey.

We had been on the road almost 3 hours when we turned off the pavement and onto the gravel road.  WOW the road looks great! I can’t believe how dry it is and NO snow!! 

To be successful we must make it 21 miles down the dirt road. Hope grows as I think maybe, just maybe we can make it all the way there today, but first 21 miles of dirt logging roads with any number of obstacles that may halt our journey must be navigated.

I cannot explain what this area means to me. I am not sure I completely understand it myself.  I have been coming here since I was a young. I may have been 10 or 12 years old when I made my first trip. I don’t really recall the exact year, but I have loved this place ever since.

Its deep in the middle of what most folks would call “nowhere”! 

No one lives there and many of my trips to the area are void of another person for the entire stay. 

I can’t explain the calm and peace I feel while I am there. The world disappears and the stress of life fades away like the setting sun. 

 I truly feel that I am "who I am meant to be", while I am within the boundaries of this area. It has called me back for over 40 years and I don’t see how that will ever end until I can no longer make the trip.

At about 10 miles in the snow starts to make its appearance along the sides of the road. We are going deeper into the woods and higher in elevation.   By the time we hit mile 15 the road is about 75% covered with snow and what isn’t snow is mud.

By mile 18, only three miles from my destination, I am driving the jeep (Lisa’s brand new Jeep Renegade with less than 1000 miles) up a road that, in reality, is still a snowmobile trail as it is completely covered with snow. Snow that is getting thicker with every mile. We have gone through mud holes, washouts and deep ruts to get to this point.

Fast forward to the beginning of this story and turn around we did.  

 I could not make it to the lake, but we got close!  Close enough to ease the stress and tensions of the past month and all the world has thrust upon us. 

Close enough to remind me of who I am and what truly is important.   There is so much in the world I cannot control. So much I have no impact on nor can I change the outcome. 

What I can do is plan my next attempt to get there! 

My next trip I will make it!  I am sure of it!  

THAT I can have an impact on! That I can focus on and put effort into.   And that is exactly what I plan to do.

I will get there soon!

The Missed Sunset !!

Let’s go up to Height of the land in Rangeley and watch the sunset, I said as we walked through Walmart.  It’s a beautiful sun filled day and we need to get out of the house!  Sure, lisa said. 

We finished our shopping and drove home to put stuff away before we headed north. 

As we drove there, which takes about an hour, my cloud free sky started to darken on the horizon.   LOOK!! I said, clouds are coming in!   You watch and see if by the time we get there the sunset will be hidden! I sputtered in disgust!

So, on we drove and the closer we got the thicker the clouds got on the horizon and started moving across the sky. In my usual way I started fussing before we even got there. “Yup gonna drive all this way and end up with NO SUNSET!  I murmured and fussed the last couple miles as my prediction came true, The sun was gone behind the clouds never to return this day .

Lisa never said a word as we neared the look out. As we sat there clearly NOT getting a sunset,  I went on and fussed more about things not going my way and wasting time, should have stayed home!  First time trying to get a sunset and NOOOOO mother nature has to throw us a curve ball and ruin MY plans!!

So, what about Lisa? She did what she always does. She saw the beauty in life! 

While I ranted and raved about the unfair situation and wasted time and gas, she went about the situation like she goes about life. 

She took out her camera and began to take pictures, after each one she showed me the beauty of what she had seen and the pictures she had taken. 

She brings to my world the joys and beauty I would miss if she was not in my life ! She quietly and patiently brings joy to my life when I seemingly do everything I can to avoid it and try not to see it.

She completes me and makes me so much better than I would be without her! She "is" the beauty in my life and she makes sure I don't miss the beauty around me! No matter how hard I try !

Here is a the picture she took and the beauty SHE did not need anyone to show her!

 As I look out my window I am greeted warmly by the setting sun. It is losing its grip on our side of this rock we live on. There is a haze everywhere and although I can see through it, it casts an eerie shade and shadows on everything that lies so far below.

I am at 27,000 feet on the last leg of our trip. The sun is racing for the horizon at what seems like an unusually fast pace!

The plane is almost silent, just the hum of the engines and the rhythmic click of the stewardess’s cart as she does her best to provide us a quick drink and a snack.

The silence is unusually strange for a plane with this many people. I have flown hundreds of flights. My frequent flyer miles are pushing 200,000 miles. Normally only the Red eye flights maintain this level of silence.

It may be the looming Virus that has everyone on edge. Maybe they are simply solemn thinking about what lies ahead with a virus none of us are familiar with. What will it bring? Who will it choose to visit? Loved ones? Co-workers? How serious will it be and what will it do to our lives? All things I should be worried about!

Although I should be worried I'm not, my heart is full, and I have a smile on my face that won't fade! 

Katherine Alice

My bride of 36 years is by my side and we are returning from a 5-day trip to visit our granddaughter. (oh ya and her parents)

It was a precious time with nothing to do but spend time holding her, getting to know her and letting her get to know me.

You see I have only been with her twice since she was born. Once in July of last year, when she entered this world and again in October for a quick 2-day trip. Although it was wonderful to visit the exchange was purely one way.

This visit was what I have been waiting for! This visit began the relationship I will maintain and cherish for the rest of my days.

This visit I met a smart, beautiful, expressive, stubborn little girl.

A young lady who knows what she wants, when she wants it and doesn’t like no for an answer!

Of course, I think she is smarter than most, prettier than all and more precious than life itself!

I am so glad I was able to introduce myself to her this weekend. I think we are going to get along just fine!

Grampa Loves you young lady!!

 My Rock

“Hey Mom, I’m going play up at the Big Rock”

“Be careful and be home by dark”

“DARK?? Come on ma!!!”

“Alan you’re 7 years old, do as you’re told or don’t go “

“OK…. fine!!”

   That conversation took place many times in my early childhood. You see the “Big Rock” was a magical place at the top of the hill (we called it the mountain) beside our house on the east Jay road. The mountain was completely cleared each year by my Gramp who would use it for pastureland for his cows. 

   Perched at the very top of the mountain was a large rock about the size of a VW beetle projecting out of the ground. To a 7-year-old it was a huge rock.  The rock sloped back against the slope of the hill and made almost a walkway up to the top. Once at the top, the rock dropped off straight down to the ground  some 5 to 6 feet below.  The mountain was probably 150 to 200 feet above the road that ran below. It was a steep walk down to the road. From the rock you could see forever to the south! Sitting on that rock was like being in a different world, to me I was on top of the world!

The Rock was a place I loved to go as a kid. I would spend hours sitting on top of the rock looking south over the valley. To the left you could see my gramps farm just across the road. I would often watch him scurry about taking care of his chores knowing he had no idea I was watching from my perch on the rock. 

  From the top of the rock I could see far off places. Places I knew nothing about as a 7-year-old, I was sure it had to be another state. There was nothing blocking your sight for as far as you could see. On a sunny day you could even see a mystical shiny stretch of ground that glistened in the bright sunlight. It would only shine on certain days and at certain times. I thought it was the roof of a giant building but I later in life figured out the shiny stretch was the sun reflecting off the Androscoggin river miles away from where I sat.

   The rock was a special place, a place where you could get away from whatever was bugging you and become whoever you wanted to be. I would sit on top and look off into the world laid out before me having no idea of what or where I was looking. All I knew was sitting on that rock alone, I was happy and loved being there. I had no idea why nor at that age did I think about it ..

    The Rock was a safe place to spend time, a place where you could be yourself without the worry of what others might say or think. A place where a soggy eyed boy could mend his broken heart after being rejected by his most recent love.   A place where I could go when angry and somehow it just drained away as I would sit there and stare out over what had to be, in my mind, most of the world! 

    I moved away from my rock when I was 12 or so, but my visits didn’t stop. I was only a bike ride and eventually a car ride away from my old friend.  

   The Big Rock went from a cool place to marvel and wonder over the world as a wide-eyed boy, to a safe place of solitude for a growing young man. It became my sanctuary when things were not going well. I pondered many of life’s challenges as a young man sitting on that rock gazing off into the distance. It was a place where how smart you where, or how talented you were at sports didn’t matter. A place where the acne would fade away and a clumsy teen could escape the pressures of life to have a sense of peace in a hectic world he didn’t understand. I went there often.

   The last time I remember sitting on that rock I was a young man who was engaged to be married to a wonderful girl who was planning a life with me and yet I was still deeply in love with Lisa.  Many hours were spent sitting on that rock trying to figure out what to do and how to do it.  I knew there would be tears, I knew there would be anger and eventually I hoped there would be happiness for everyone but first I had to figure it all out.

 Eventually I did.

   My rock and the peacefulness of being there helped me move forward that day, just like it had many times before!

   That was 37 years ago. I don’t remember ever going back for a visit like that again.

You can see in the two photos how much it has changed. The rock is now hidden from view, when Gramp passed no one kept the mountain cleared and nature took over engulfing my rock.  I’m sure sitting on it now, there is nothing but a view of the trees that now tower above it. 

My view that was so important to me is now gone. 

I am somewhat saddened by the thought that I will never see that view again.  

I may walk up this spring just to sit on my rock and say hello.  If it was alive, I would thank it for years of being a faithful companion, a force that ignited the imagination of a small child, for being the ear that listened and the shoulder I  leaned on as a young man who just needed a place to rest from what the world was dishing out.

   But alive it is not……… 

 I might thank it anyway!

 Hi gram, how are you? 

     Yes, I know, I know it’s been too long.

I’m sorry,  life has been really busy lately but I wanted to talk with you about something really special! I couldn’t wait to tell you. I knew you would be excited about it !

    What? ok ok I will.  I want to introduce you to Katherine Alice Smith ….. Yes!  That’s your great great granddaughter!  Jake!   It’s Jake and Denae’s daughter.  I know it’s pretty cool that your name will live on! The kids named her after beloved grandparents on each side.

   What’s that? ……  No, you never met Denae. You would like her a lot! She is smart and loves animals and is really great for Jake. They will be great parents!

    Animals? Yes, they have a house full of critters, dogs, cats, fish and they may even be a turtle or two I can’t remember

        Oh I will don’t worry!  She will know who she is named after . I know her dad will introduce her to the farm, you know how much he loved you and Gramp and going to the farm. It was his favorite place! I’ll tell Katherine all about you and what life was like growing up on the farm.

     What? Sure, we do have your recipe book! Lisa uses it all the time. OK, I’ll make sure Katherine gets it!  Yup, we will for sure! By the time she is 18 she will know how to make your Molasses cookies and your Mac and cheese! I promise!

Katherine??…… oh, she is so sweet and cuddly you would just snuggle her for hours!

     Lisa is now Gramma Smith, seems strange to me to call her that or hear people call her that. You will always be Gramma Smith to me but Lisa is proud to be the next one in line, that’s for sure!

       Well I have to go, I just wanted to tell you about Katherine.

    I also …. well…….I mean……. I just wanted to say I am sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.  It’s just you just left us so quickly. I know you where tired and ready to be with Gramp, but I wish I could have said goodbye. I wish I could have told you one more time that I loved ya.

“Ya, I know you do”

Alice Elizabeth Smith  3/14/1919 – 5/29/2007

Katherine Alice Smith ……..  7/3/2019 with a full life of wonder and adventure left to live!

 Over the years I have been many places and I have been able to see many wondrous things. 

Flaming Gorge reservoir for example, in Green River Wyoming. It is an amazing 110 mile long, steeply banked reservoir whose sides burn red with rusted iron within the soil. It is a vast and beautiful place!

 I have been in almost every major city in our country and marveled at the massive amounts of concrete and humanity that fill such a small area! 

On our family farm, we have an old pine tree that has a trunk that is so big it would take three or more people linking arms to surround the tree! A true giant of a tree that I have been amazed with since my youth! 

I have driven through the Southwest desert lands and I was awestruck at the vastness and ongoing miles of desert that stretched as far as I could see. 

You see I, like many of you, seem to be amazed and impressed by “big” things.  Things that are larger than normal, larger than life, the unusual I guess you would say! 

 If you followed our first trip this year that Lisa and I took, I shared a picture of Lisa standing in front of a HUGE rock.  This was probably the largest single rock I have ever seen! Just amazing! 

 The ground was littered with rocks of all sizes, shapes, and colors,  yet what got my attention was the one rock that wasn’t like the others.  The “exceptional” one in the area. 

Ordinary usually takes a back seat to the unusual in my world.  I tend to appreciate things that, for whatever reason, are exceptional or remarkable.  Usually small doesn’t make the cut!

The tree that beats the odds and outlasts all of its neighbors to grow to exceptional size, now that’s something to admire!  The canyon that was carved over the passing of time and yes even the huge rock that was most likely deposited there by the last glacier that covered the area. These are the things that normally get my attention and admiration.

Until this last trip.  

As I stood on the rocky outcrop over 100 feet from the ocean below,  I was admiring the massive cliffs to both my left and my right ( of course I was).  The ocean stretched out in front of me until the curvature of the earth pulled it from my view.  Truly a scene to marvel and wonder at! And I was lost in the moment!

As I looked down to take a step to the left so I could get a better footing, something caught my eye.

A small flash of green at the bottom of a crevis on the rock outcrop I was standing on.  As I looked closer I realized there was a small plant in there. “Must have blown in on the wind and landed in the crack”, I thought to myself. Or a seagull dropped it there.  I got down to look at the plant expecting to see something loose but no, this little guy was GROWING here! Where was the soil?  I couldn’t see any!  All I saw was rock and life refusing to give up.  

I was amazed at the tenacity of this little plant.  Somehow it is finding a way to survive on a rocky outcrop with no visible soil to feed its roots.  Nothing for it to flourish in and yet there it was, finding a way to survive when the odds are so stacked against it!

Isn’t the fight for life this little guy is making worth as much of my admiration as the massive pine who lives on the fertile soil of our farm? 

 Is the fact that this plant is surviving in what seems like impossible circumstances just as wondrous as a big rock deposited by a glacier about 10,000 years ago?

I think so!  

 I need to slow down and marvel at the small treasures around me. Treasures that I miss every day!  I need to stop focusing only on the things that jump out at me and “LOOK” for what wonders are all around me. If you look for what is amazing around you verses simply letting it jump out at you,  you will find there is more out there to both see and appreciate. 

I wonder if the little guy will make it?

Probably not,  but it won’t be from a lack of effort that’s for sure!

Hello Katherine !

 Hello Katherine Alice, 

I had over 7 months to prepare for her arrival and yet the emotions that came over me while I held her for the first time were far beyond what I expected!   How can you love someone so much before you even meet her?  Before she even takes her first breath, she becomes one of the most important people in your life! Just doesn’t make sense! But sure enough its true!

From the moment I knew she was coming into my life I have been excited to finally meet her. For me it’s always an anxious time when you meet someone new. Will you like them; will they like you? Will they be really annoying and drive you crazy? Some want to be friends with you but the feeling isn’t mutual and vice versa.  So meeting folks for the first time can be an interesting adventure for sure. 

With her the expectation was even higher!  I have a role to play in her life. I am “Grampa Smith”! Wait what??  How in the world do I do that?!?!  One minute I’m an old guy skating through life and the next minute I have an entirely new role to play?!  How do I know how to be a Grampa? Where is the Grampa manual? What do I do? What don’t I do?  

Will I be a good Grampa, or will I be the one kids run from and hide at every visit clinging to their parents’ leg for support and protection?  Will I have a candy in my pocket especially for her every time I see her or will I yell at her to “get off the lawn I just planted grass seeds there “? 

All I know about being a Gramp is what I know from my own Gramp...….  Good Lord how can I live up to that?!

From the orange and cheese parties he used to have with us kids (when I know he had a thousand other things he needed to do on the farm) to the constant interest in our lives shown by the simple questions he would ask each time he saw us. My gramp was always a positive force in my life! 

Never judgmental, always supportive and there when we needed him as if quietly waiting for the call to action. From a lap to sit in on a rainy day as a child, to a tow out of a snowbank on a winter day as a teen. Gramp was always there when I needed him.

Ok, I can do this!  All I have to do is think back and say “what would gramp do “and I will surely be able to ace this gramp thing!

 That reminds me I need to stock up on candy, oranges and cheese!  I wonder what kind of candy she will like ? I better just stock up on them all just to be sure !