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SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN: Is Anything Free in this World?

6/30/2019

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Everybody loves free stuff, but is it really free?
FREE STUFF!  We all get bombarded with claims of free stuff available.  After all, Americans love the idea of getting something free, yet we usually find out it's really not free, that there is a catch.  Like the invite to take a free vacation if we only spend some time going to a short time share presentation, only to find that we are almost locked inside with a sales rep who tries to work us over until we succumb to his pitch.  Or the offer of the interest free credit card, only to find that after the introductory period, the rate is so astronomical that we think we've been visited by a loan shark.  Now we all know that nothing in this life is really free, yet we fall victim to what our mind wishes were the case over and over again we get burned.

Well, we seem to never learn and today we have politicians promising everything. If you don't want to work, don't worry, they'll provide us with free money. And as far as healthcare, retirement and college tuition, again don't worry, they'll provide it for free. It's free, free, free, and the dirty little secret is we never look at the whole offer, for in the fine print we find information which tells how much more money will be taken out of our pay and, in some cases when we add in those who live in states with an income tax, our remainder approaches zero. But, again not to worry, everything else will be free also.  Positive madness is what it is, but when we put our faith in mortal man, a being who repeatedly fails us, why are we foolish enough to expect a different outcome?

Yet, there is hope and it comes in the form of our Savior, who came to earth those many years ago to teach us about what is truly important in this life. And before He departed, He died on the Cross to forgive us from our sins.  And all we have to do to gain that wonderful gift is believe in Him by faith.  It is free in the sense that it doesn't require us to pay any money, but it does mean when we accept His offer we will live our lives putting Him first, that nothing else or anyone else can be in the way of our love for Him.  And if we do that, He will not only guide us on the path to a New and Eternal Life, but He will be there awaiting us upon our arrival when earthly life is done.  Now that, my friends is more than something just FREE, it is real FREEDOM, freedom from the sin we are sure to commit when we put someone other than the Lord in our driver's seat. And that very sin ensnares us in captivity as the Evil One so desperately wants. He knows in the end that he can't win the final struggle with God and he wants to take as many of us with him on his final fall.

It's never too late to accept the Lord's offer while we still breathe on this earth.  But we know not when we will die nor when He will return to rule the world for one thousand years as is promised in the Scriptures. So, don't delay, believe and commit to Him today and watch your troubles fade and fall away.  Have a blessed Sunday knowing that with God in Three Persons guiding our life, we cannot fail.
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CHARLIE: The Little Rescue with an Abundance of Attitude

6/28/2019

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Charlie "Bear" as we sometimes call him.
Sometimes it's just the little things that make life interesting and in my case, that usually has something to do with animals.  Now all of my life in years gone by, having a pet meant maybe a dog or a cat or even both, but always in very limited numbers.  But when I met my wife, Charyl, that changed and at first I didn't know what to think of it.  You see, my wife is a modern day "Dr. Dolittle" with experience in dog training as well as teaching English equestrian students. She love all creatures that are found around a horse barn and that usually means horses, dogs and cats.  So, when I first met her it took a while for me to learn the tricks of the trade. I've even written a book about that phase of my life entitled "Confessions of a Horse Husband."  And now and quite surprisingly so, I've found that not only have I learned a lot, but I love the experience and the animals that go with it.

Everyone knows of my wife's love for creatures and her devotion to their welfare in our local area.  She's taken a large number of stray cats to "Operation Catnip," working as a volunteer to have them spayed or neutered and given shots so that even though they are feral, they are not a problem in our rural community.  She has also fostered and even adopted dogs, cats and even a pony who without her intervention would have had their life snuffed out.  These animals have turned out to some of the best we've ever had and we consider them part of the family.  One thing for sure, with the animal family we have life is never dull and the humor they provide in some of the things they do is a source of making me smile.  And smiling, after all, is a beautiful form of assistance to being happy and living a long life.

That brings me to the little creature pictured above.  His name is Charlie and Charyl adopted him about six months ago.  She was at work in a large office complex in Gainesville and the custodian came in with a little, frightened kitten in his arms. He has talked with my wife sometimes as he cleaned the office not long before her departure in the afternoons and he learned of her love for animals, something which he shared.  The little kitten, not much over six weeks, was alone standing in the edge of a city street when the kind custodian found him. His mother, a feral cat, likely had been killed and the little fellow was petrified. So, the man scooped up the little bundle and took him to, who else but "Dr. Dolittle."  Now I am not a newcomer on such matters, so I knew when she was slow in getting out of her truck to enter the house, something was up.  And as she walked in with something cradled in her arms I already knew it was an animal.  I also knew that the cute little cross-eyed and blue-eyed Siamese had captured her heart and that Charlie would never be a barn cat. Charlie would be here in the house to stay.

When he was old enough, Charyl had him neutered and given shots and a check-up and despite his wayward upbringing, he was in perfect health.  He followed her everywhere, hopped in the bed when she went to lie down or sleep and only acknowledged my existence when she was at work. I noticed, though, that when our older indoor cats would give him the business, the little fellow held his own and soon he gained their respect.  So Charlie and I just kind of went our separate ways of peaceful coexistence.  But one day that changed and I still have no idea why.

I was in my small office working on a book when I noticed him  sitting beside my chair, staring at me intently.  It gave me a slightly creepy feeling since one can never read the mind of a cat, but I leaned over and petted him and he purred in response.  Not long thereafter, he jumped up on the table beside my desk, stretched out and took a nap.  Then, when I left the room for coffee, he followed me out and back in, jumping back up on the table.  So, now he follows me around in the house when I'm the only one home, but the minute Charyl returns, I don't exist.

He loves to sit in the window sill and watch birds and deer outside, picturing himself as the grand hunter on the Serengeti, searching out his next meal.  Fat  chance, Charlie, for when he gets hungry he just meows at us and walks to his bowl. He's got it all figured out.  But not to think he's different from other cats, on those times when he wants to be alone, he disappears.  It might be under the bed, it might be in a closet but we know he's around and I think at those times I've got him figured out.  Charlie is likely somewhere from which he can see us and we can't see him, watching us with a smile and thinking that we're more attached to him than he is to us. Sadly, that's probably true but, then again, he is a cat.  And one thing else is true and it is that until you've had a cat in the house, you'll never appreciate them.

CATS: Just another little creature God has given us to appreciate and, yes, sometimes frustrate us. But, and it's a big but, they do grow on us as well.


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God, Guns, Old Glory and Fords

6/27/2019

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The God, Guns, Freedom and Ford dealer in Chatom, Alabama (couresy ZeroHedge.com)
A local Ford dealer in the small Alabama town of Chatom went viral on Facebook recently when their sales special in honor of Independence Day was advertised.  Chatom Ford is currently offering as a bonus to buy a new Ford a Bible, a shotgun and an American flag.  The dealership general manager said that in just the first five days of the promotion, three new vehicles have already been purchased, not a shabby take for a business in a town of only 1250 residents. With the promotion running continuously until July 31st,  at that rate they'll likely set new sales records.  So what are average Americans supposed to take from that?

Well, for those who think that guns should be banned from honest and law abiding citizens, it won't go well but for the rest of us, I for one salute them.  The Second Amendment was established to give every law abiding America the right to bear arms and the Founders realized from their past experience that the biggest threat to our freedom is a government of force.  Guns in the hands of good citizens are a means of reinforcing the integrity and honesty of a government in a democratic republic and good people are never the problem with guns.  But that's just one of my takes on this action by an obviously patriotic business organization.

God and Old Glory.  Think carefully about what that says: God and Old Glory.  A nation which was clearly initiated by a Declaration of Independence which was inspired by God is a nation which is deserving of respect. And, of course, the symbol which Americans most easily recognize as representing their beliefs, our flag, Old Glory, is deserving of its honorable place.  Thousands upon thousands of young Americans from day one have fought and died under that flag and so the link between our nation by tradition and heritage and the Almighty Creator is crystal clear.  So, any time a business or individual wants to honor that foundation by putting God (as represented here by His Holy Word), the flag (Old Glory, her most cherished symbol) and guns (guaranteed by the Second Amendment in the Bill of Rights) together as part of our nation's birthday is appropriate and I salute those who do so.

I remember years ago when the big automobile slog was Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie and Chevrolet.  Well, maybe Chatom Ford has come up with a better one: God, Guns, Old Glory and Ford.  And since our family owns an F-150, that sounds good to me.  Chevy lovers out there, don't worry, the free choice of what you want to drive is also part of our freedoms. But, in all seriousness, as we start the countdown to our national birthday next week, remember the importance of that Declaration of Independence, our Bill of Rights from the Constitution, and their relationship to both God and Old Glory as well as how they address the right to bear arms.  Then say a prayer, salute the flag and celebrate the grandest nation with the best experiment in government ever created by man and stand tall for this land.  God bless America and may she ever be free.
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HAPPINESS WAS TROTLINE CRABBING IN "SUMMERS AT OLD NAGS HEAD"

6/26/2019

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The best part was the feast at the end of the trip.
One of the fondest memories I have of my "Summers at Old Nags Head" was the opportunity to go trotlline crabbing with my Uncle Hal. On those days, he would pick me up at the cottage in the hours before dawn and we would make the trip up the beach road, then headed west toward Colington Island where he kept his crab boat.  It was actually a large dory with a sideboard and spool added to take up the trotline to dip the crabs from the water just before they surfaced.

Uncle Hal was an amazing man despite his lack of schooling beyond the seventh grade.  He could build a cottage which could withstand any storm, could figure out even the most difficult math problems despite his lack of education and was also a master at building small boats of the type used by independent fishermen on the Outer Banks.  And learning from him the art of trotline crabbing was both fun and something good to know around the water.

In the early days, my job was to run the boat and learn from him how to efficiently harvest the succulent shellfish for he was a master at it.  While I set the boat to run with the current, he taught me how to use a peach basket tied to the stern for drag to slow the speed down or to use a drag anchor when it needed more drag and how to assist him by insuring the line didn't snag or bunch up as it passed over the spool.  I learned how to tie the drop lines to the trotline and replace bait and the art of becoming efficient with the dip net. I never got the hang of it to the degree Uncle Hal did, for he could deftly scoop up to five crabs from their hold on the bait before having to dump off the largesse. 

The trotline was placed parallel to the shore in water generally from five to eight feet deep and as the first pass began, Hal would use a long handled gaff to pull up the line at the start where he would place it over the roller and the harvest began.  When we completed the nearly three-quarter mile straight line run, we would circle back to make another pass to replace any baits that were gone.  Using bull lip for bait, it was hard for the crabs to remove much due to its toughness, but they loved it and would hang on forever.  The line would remain in place for about a week, allowing for three to four harvests per week, after which we'd bring it in for inspection and repair or replacement as necessary.

When the morning's work was done, Hal would buy me a frosty coke from the baitshop near the dock, we'd load up the bushel baskets and would be off to the local seafood market which always bought his catch.  Then, heading back to the cottage with his day's work accounted for, he'd take me on a joy ride through the sandflats between the beach road and the western dunes and piney woods.  It was fun and, if the catch was good and it usually was, I'd walk into the cottage with a dozen or more jimmies for supper that day.  Mom was always more than happy to prepare them as she loved anything harvested from the sea.  We all did.

And Uncle Hal's wife, my mother's older sister, Aunt Sylvia, could fix more delights with crab than I could even imagine existed and her deviled crabs were to die for. Then again, anything she made in the kitchen was second to none.  She had cooking down to an art.

Oh, those wonderful days at Nags Head have left me with wonderful memories.  It was a different time, a more restful time, a time when strife was limited and happy days abounded. I enjoy sharing my memories with those who never experienced those "Summers at Old Nags Head."  I was so blessed to have lived the experience and those joys of childhood.
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Aunt Sylvia and Uncle Hal
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The Lifesavers and the Wright Brothers

6/25/2019

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LIfesavers who volunteered to help the Wright brothers during their journey toward flight.
The picture posted above is the one I posted yesterday of the members of the Lifesaving Service who volunteered to help with ground work and serve as witnesses for Orville and Wilbur Wright during the final days of their quest to be first in flight.  My mother had a copy of this picture in her scrap book and it was dated 1903 with the Wright brothers.  The names were not identified but I have found a good resource, "The Wright Stories," a wonderful group of stories found on the internet by that name. They were written by Dr. Richard Stimson, a man who grew up near the Wright home, met Orville before his death in 1948 and has devoted a goodly portion of scholarly time to put together stories about their historic adventures in aviation history.

My grandmother, Martha Etheridge, told me as a boy that as a young woman in 1902, she traveled with a group from Wanchese by boat to Colington, where they hitched a ride by horse drawn wagon to the grounds at today's Wright Memorial where the Wrights were flying gliders to both teach themselves to fly as well as establish the basis for flight design for the "Wright Flyer."  That craft is the famous flying machine used to make history the following year and which now hangs from the building at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C. The brothers spent two to four months each of four years from 1900-1903 refining their work on the site for the flight.  Grandma Martha also told me that on my grandfather's side, a cousin served on the ground crew of the final flight day for the Wright's.  His name was Adam Etheridge and family ancestry records would show him as growing up in Kitty Hawk, probably a first cousin to my great-grandfather.

Here are the names of the men who served as ground assistants in a volunteer capacity. Nearly all of them were lifesavers, a tough breed of strong men, many not even able to read, but all had a keen insight about danger and the Wright's admired that in them.  First, here's the list of those who participated in the first day of flight, December 13, 1903: Bob Wescott, John T. Daniels, Tom Beacham, Willie Dough and "Uncle" Benny O'Neal.  All but O'Neal were lifesavers stationed at the oceanfront Kill Devil Hills Lifesaving Station (O'Neal's status was never fully determined) and they knew when the red flag flew from the flight site that they were needed for help.  In addition to those identified, there were two boys and a dog on sight witnessing as well, but when the loud noise of the engine began, the boys and the dog ran away.  Wilbur flew successfully for only sixty feet, the flight was very difficult to control and crashed after only three and one half seconds in air.

The next and final day of flight occurred four days later, delayed to make a few repairs from the crash.  The lifesaving crew was slightly different this time, with Daniels and Dough accompanying another lifesaver from the station, Adam Etheridge as well as lumber dealer W.C. Brinkley.  The day's crew pushed the "Flyer" up the slight inclined track of one hundred fifteen feet before being released under pilot Orville Wright who rose and fell like before, but this time staying in the air for one hundred twenty feet and twelve seconds in air.  Three more flights would be conducted that day, each better than the day before until on the last one the soon to be famous aircraft would cover eight hundred and fifty-two feet and stay in the air for fifty nine seconds. Shortly thereafter, a telegram was dispatched from the Kitty Hawk Lifesaving Station, the only active telegraph on the beach, to both the Norfolk and the Dayton, Ohio newspaper in their hometown.

Imagine the thrill that those lifesavers must have felt when they realized they were now part of history.  And it's ironic that men like the Wrights, considered weird weird or strange by most, built such a bond with those men of the sea on a windswept stretch of sand by the ocean which would ultimately earn the title: "Birthplace of Aviation."  It took quite a while for many to recognize just what their efforts meant, at the time it took place many editors wouldn't even print the story, thinking it to be insignificant.  But today, thousands each year pay tribute to the Wrights when they visit the site and the large and grand memorial that bears their name.  It added an interesting air rendition to the seafaring history of those glorious Outer Banks.
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The Wright Memorial, a fitting monument to the men who first flew from the then sandy slopes of Kill Devil Hill.
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Tangier and Ocracoke: Two Outposts of Old English Charm

6/24/2019

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Tangier Island: Slowly she is sinking.
Two island towns reminiscent of the early English influence in coastal Virginia and North Carolina offer the visitor a look back in history and a different way of life.  One has not changed much at all, the other modernized due to more tourist interaction, yet both are worthy of being placed on the bucket list of anyone who loves the Atlantic coastal water of the two states.  They are located one hundred and eighty-seven miles apart as the crow flies, almost on a direct north-south trajectory and they offer a memorable adventure for a sailor who routinely travels the intracoastal waterway linking the Chesapeake Bay and the broad Pamlico Sound to the south.

The northernmost of the two is Tangier, an island town in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia, not too far from the Maryland line.  It can be reached by ferry from Reedville in Northumberland County on the western shore of the bay and Onancock in Accomack County on the Eastern Shore.  It's a great place to spend a day walking the streets of the quaint fishing village, visiting numerous craft shops and food establishments that specialize in local seafood delights.  No cars are allowed; it's a walk-on ferry but all the sights are within walking distance and you can also rent bicycles.  If you want to stay for a night or a weekend, there are numerous nice bed and breakfasts on the island and you will be welcomed by very friendly people who delight in telling you the story of the island.  Life on the water is the predominant way that Tangier natives make their living but the tourism addition helps the economy as well.

Tangier, however, is not going to be there forever.  The island is slowly being overtaken by the Chesapeake and grassy marshes are now seen where once was dry land.  No one is sure of the timing, but it appears to be a lost cause due to the lack of funds which would be immense to save the small town.  So, if you want to see a beautiful active fishing village in action, replete with natives who speak with a native Elizabethan, perhaps spiced with a touch of Scotland and Ireland to boot, take a trip to this wonderful little island where time largely stands still.

And now to the southern end of the journey, where we'll visit a place that got much of its fame from Edward Teach, AKA Blackbeard the Pirate, who used it as his summer headquarters from which his brigands terrorized the shipping business off the treacherous Carolina coast.  It's likely that some of the locals have lineage from some of these pirates as they were known to charm those they met when they wished to and a number of young women saw them as adventurers as they yearned for freedom from a strict family home, usually to their own regret. One such case involved the daughter of a North Carolina colonial governor, who fell in love with Blackbeard, only to have him turn her over to his crew for pleasure when he grew tired of her.  There were no gentlemen among them, only scoundrels of the worst order, but it is, however, that had they been treated fairly from the start by the Crown, the British might not have had so much trouble with them.

The English pirates were originally mercenaries to plunder for hire by the Crown and agreements were made with Teach and other captains to loot and kill the Spanish armada components for money.  But when the King reneged on his agreement, the pirates rebelled by declaring British merchant vessels target vessels as well, earning them outlaw status and sure death when caught. But for the period they ran wild and free, with their ability to disappear into the darkness, they created much havoc for the British.

Today, Ocracoke Island still has a large contingent of people who make their living from the sea, but with two ferries bringing tourists from Cedar Island down Morehead way and Hatteras from the northern Outer Banks, tourism has grown dramatically. Add to that the traveling contingents of wealth large boat owners, and the sleepy little village, while charming as ever, has become much more trendy and upscale.  New places to stay, upscale water holes and eating establishments have flourished and even night life for the younger set has come to life.  And with a long unspoiled coastal beach from the Hatteras ferry all the way to the town itself, the beach is very popular with fishermen, shell collectors and swimmers alike.  So, Ocracoke has a bright future excepting one issue that plagues the Outer Banks continually due to it's situation jutting out into the open Atlantic:  STORMS.  The entire coastline from the south at Cape Lookout to the north in Currituck is a veritable magnet for big storms and the locals have to take it in stride.  With a similar tradition to those to the north in Tangier and also having that unique Elizabethan accent, they know their fate is always as near as the next great storm to roll in.  They have weathered many the storm and suffered many tragedies, yet they love their beach and land and plan to stay on until death due they part when their time on earth is done.

So, if you like unique treasures as places to visit and roam, you can't beat both Tangier and Ocracoke, nearly two hundred miles apart yet sharing a heritage that is worthy of the greatness of the building of America.  Happy travels, my friends.
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Town of Ocracoke from the air, looking north toward the Hatteras ferry.
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SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN: Why Sunday Church is so Important

6/22/2019

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The old First Presbyterian Church in Newport News (no longer a church but standing)
Pictured above is the old First Presbyterians Church in Newport News, the church in which I was christened, became a church member and where I attended church, Sunday school and was active in the youth fellowship until going away to college in 1965.  The building still stands today but the beautiful stained glass windows are gone.  But back in the golden days of the early and mid-twentieth century it was a very vibrant and active church when the downtown area was the hub of the city's activities.

The beautiful church is displayed here since church on Sunday is my topic this morning.  Some don't think it's necessary and think they can have a strong and lasting relationship with the Lord without it, but I for one think that while that may be possible it is likely exceedingly difficult.  For the entire process of growing and maintaining the faith you need to accept the Lord as our Savior and requires three distinct processes to keep us strong and filled with the Holy Spirit.  God wants us to read His word daily and routinely, pray to Him regularly as well with both praise and our requests for His help and guidance and then, thirdly, He expects us to gather together with other Christians for regular worship.  And since Sunday was set aside as our day of rest and time to be holy, isn't it logical that Sunday is the day for having that communal gathering for Him?

Now I know that some are concerned about the entire concept of organized religion, a process they see as a building and the pomp and circumstances that go along with it which can really lose touch with what worship and loving God is all about.  They also don't like all the administrative and organizational aspects which can easily follow with a very controlling bureaucracy of the church which ultimately can take precedence over faith.  And I must admit that does happen far too often.  But remember, Christians are just as frail as non-believers in the sense that they can forget the meaning of what it is all about.  But that doesn't mean that an organized body must be like that nor does it mean that individual churches within a broader organization don't sometimes go their own way when the Spirit calls them.  So, my suggestion about that is shop around if you are unsure, there are many and varied churches to choose from, some of which are totally independent of a large centrally structured church leadership. Options are available but I must add, as a Conservative Christian and a devotee of the Word, that you will best serve God if you find a church body that goes by the Word.  A Bible preacher, one who can explain the answers to questions and shows in his or her countenance a true love of the Word is where you will find a real Christian home.  It can be a very small church or larger, but if you open your heart and let the Spirit envelop you, you will know it's right for you.

The Word, prayer and worship led by a devotee of the Word will  never fail you.  And it doesn't have to be in a regal and fancy facility, it can be in a log cabin or even in a congregational gathering along the seashore or even in a beautiful spring meadow.  For some that's even better as they feel closer to God in nature than anywhere else and there is a lot that makes sense about that.  But the point is very simple and it's this: worship regularly wherever it is done with others of like belief in a place that makes you feel the presence of God.  That my friends, is what church is all about.  Have a blessed Sunday.
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A Boy's Dream Trip: Going to the Gulf Stream

6/21/2019

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Charter boats weren't quite this fancy back in the 1950's
So, at 11:54 a.m. today the summer solstice officially is reached. From this point forward, the days will begin to get just a little bit shorter until we reach the winter solstice in December and reverse the process.  Here in North Florida it seems as if summer has been with us since early May due to the unusual heat we've faced, but no, today officially begins the season and with it my mind wanders back to this time of year back in 1957.  I had a rough stretch that year following my father's death just after Thanksgiving the previous year, but my return to Nags Head for summer at the beach lifted my outlook appreciably.  Yes, I was saddened at times as I realized that Dad wasn't here with us, but with my summer friends, the beautiful beach and ocean at my beck and call, I felt alive again. And something would happen very soon that would brighten my spirits even more, in fact, I would remember it as long as I live.

On the last weekend of June, a couple that was good friends with Mom and Dad came to visit us at our cottage with two of their children who were close to me in age.  They would stay with us for about five days after arrival on Friday night and they were scheduled to go to the Gulf Stream on Monday.  Ah, the Gulf Stream, that great current of warm water from the tropics that ran off the coast just over twelve miles out, carrying with it tropical fish and trophy fishing opportunities for the charter boats out of Oregon Inlet.  We enjoyed the weekend but then, on Sunday evening before supper, Mom gave me the news.  I would be accompanying them on the trip to the Gulf Stream. I would finally have the chance to sit in the fighting chair challenging some big fish, quite different from my heretofore experience of catching flounder, blues and similar tasty fish either by surf casting or off the Nags Head Pier.

To say I was excited in the predawn hours on Monday was an understatement.  I jumped out of bed and was dressed in a flash and helped in loading up the car with all the drinks and goodies that would be taken with us that day.  And we arrived at the docks just minutes before the sun would begin it's slow rise from the ocean.  The captain and his mate were ready and we were underway almost immediately, rounding the protected bend into the inlet where we would first traverse the rough surf at the line where the ocean and the sound competed with current flow.  As we then moved into an almost glassy sea, the sun was slowly showing itself as it majestically rose from the sea and, to my surprise, the family friend who chartered our party told me Captain Joe wanted to see me at the wheel.

Captain Joe was a very neat and soft-spoken man and he greeted me by telling me he understood I was celebrating my birthday.  He was the first black charter boat captain I had ever seen and that told me he was a hard-working man devoted to a job and business he loved.  It was a major personal accomplishment for him in those days. A few moments later, he told me to take the wheel, showing me points on the directional bulb to stay between as the boat would sway slightly to port and then back to starboard due to the current and the soft waves.

He spoke and said, "Young man, I understand that Captain Albert was your grandfather."

I guess I surprised him when I said, "Who is Captain Albert?  My grandfather was James Albert Etheridge and I share his first name."

Captain Joe just laughed as he said, "Oh, yes, I know that but on the island everyone called him Captain Albert. When I was a young man before the war I used to sometimes sit and talk with him while fishing and he was also quite the singer.  Did you know that he often sang in Norfolk on Sundays with a large church choir?"

I was enamored by what I was hearing and responded, "Please tell me more, Captain Joe."

He continued by telling my that grandfather also worked for the Coast and Geodetic Survey and farmed and gardened regularly and that my grandmother, Martha, also was very kind. He said he remembered the occasions on a hot summer day when he walked by their home barefoot and thirsty and she would invite him up on the porch for a glass of cool water.

Then he told me to go get ready, for I would be in the fighting chair next.  Well, we had a wonderful day of it, but missed our one chance for a really big sailfish when, after fighting him for over thirty minutes, he finally threw the hook as we were getting him near the boat.  But we had a great catch of dolphin, tuna and wahoo and we took home enough fish to last us all summer.  It was the first really fresh tuna I ever tasted and wow, what a difference.  And wahoo, a very light meat which is neatly nestled in sections by the four large cartilage components off of the spine, is cooked like a steak. If you ever try it grilled, you'll want it anytime you can find it.

"Summers at Old Nags Head" were always wonderful, but that wonderful experience to celebrate my tenth birthday was really something special. I've been back to the Gulf Stream many times since, from Oregon Inlet, Hatteras and even Fernandina Beach, Florida, but none will ever replace that special day in my list of favorites.
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TRAVELING GOD'S NATURAL ROAD: The Mighty Saguaro

6/20/2019

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Courtesy of Saguaro National Park
If you've never visited Southern Arizona, you've missed a truly magnificent gift of God that is awesome to see first hand.  The saguaro cactus, standing tall and proud with uplifted arms is so plentiful there that it is almost like a forest awaiting harvest. They can grow up to fifty feet tall and can have two to ten arms off of the main trunk.  They also flower in the spring, but not necessarily every year, and the flowers open at night and remain open only until the next afternoon, with other flowers blooming thereafter.

I saw my first saguaro as a freshman at the University of Arizona in Tucson.  They fascinated me due to Tucson being in the center of the area where they proliferate.  From the far southeastern tip of California, across Southern Arizona and down into the Sonoran state in Mexico, they thrive. They are found nowhere else in the world and outside of Tucson is located the Saguaro National Park and Tucson Mountain Park, two large plats of land of nearly one hundred and ten thousand acres where they are protected.

Just imagine standing outside in the park, watching the glorious Arizona sunset behind a forest of saguaros in silhouette.  What would you see?  Well, I can't put words into the mouth of anyone else, but to me I see a man or woman with outstretched arms, praising God for the beauty of a sunset with little atmospheric interference to mar its beauty.  During the time I matriculated at the University, I spent a lot of time with friends hiking in saguaro country, up and down rocky hillsides and into valleys admiring the natural beauty of the Great Southwest.  It's what you must do to really give the land justice, for it's where you see all living things in the desert carry on their struggle for life over death in a harsh climate. In addition to the beautiful saguaro, you might see a coyote, a wild pig, possibly even a wolf. There are also large desert lizards and, of course, snakes, including the desert diamondback.  Dress appropriately and wear strong hiking boots and just stay out of their way and you'll be fine. Probably the biggest mistake that hikers make is to try and pick up a rock to examine it since snakes love to spend a hot day beneath them.

It's not unlike going to the beach on the Atlantic or Pacific shore in one regard. If you respect the desert, it will respect you.  And what you can witness and learn from your visit there, away from the madding crowds, will astound you.  And perhaps that leads me to the point of all the comments about the beauty of nature, for wherever you might roam or live, take the time to get to know what is around you. It will make your life so much richer and, if like me you share the faith, it will make the Spirit rise high within you from what you see and witness.  Have a blessed and productive day.
Picture
Flowering saguaro bouquets caught in a prolific spring blooming period.
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God's Nature in Action: THE MOGOLLON RIM

6/19/2019

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Picture
Approaching the Mogollon Rim from the south.
If we take the time to appreciate the beauty of our nation and the world that God so graciously gave us,  it is absolutely what we can find wherever we go.  One such physical creation is the Mogollon Rim in north central Arizona, an escarpment that rises suddenly some two thousand feet above the lower elevations to the south.  It covers over two hundred miles along a jagged line from Yavapai County eastward to near the New Mexico line. It was formed by a combination of erosion and earth crust movements that pushed the land upward over thousands of years. And I can tell you from experience that if you drive north from Phoenix toward Flagstaff, it will awe you as you see it in the distance and as the road climbs you will see desert transition to high desert foliage until you reach the top of the Colorado Plateau and receive a blast of cool air.

My first experience with "The Rim" came on a hot June day many years ago. I was a college student in Tucson, remaining at school for the first half of the summer to complete a special project. We had a long, free weekend and decided to take a trip up to Grand Canyon country, a place I had never seen.  I had no idea, however, the amazement I would find in the Arizona countryside along the way. On that day we went through Phoenix at around eleven in the morning.  It was deserted and hot, oppressively hot and had the humidity been high it would have been unbearable.  Here we were, four college kids, shirtless in a non-air conditioned car, headed north.

The terrain changed north of Phoenix with the low desert valleys and sparse growth giving way to an elevation incline which brought with it small pines and cottonwood and other green folliage.  But when we saw "The Rim" the incline grew greater and as we climbed we could see beautiful red-hewed rock formation off in the direction of Oak Creek Canyon.  The big surprise, however, came when we reached the summit, for in a matter of moments the temperature must have dropped nearly twenty degrees and we stopped to put our shirts on.  From over one hundred to only upper-eighties was a shock at first, but as we made our way farther north the temperature continued to drop.  By the time we got to Flagstaff, a sleepy little college town back then, it was about seventy even.  We decided to stay the night there and found a convenient motel on the main drag which gave us a view to the north of the San Francisco peaks.

From the top of "The Rim" to Flagstaff and beyond, we were now on the Colorado Plateau and I knew why so many from Southern Arizona loved to go there in the hot summer.  The Ponderosa pines were massive, things were green and we could see snow still gracing the high territory of the mountains above.  We decided to go for a swim before finding a place to eat and I made the mistake of just diving in.  It was freezing, so I swam one lap and then quickly exited to water, grabbing a thick towel to dry my shivering body and to stop the clacking of my teeth. No wonder the other three with me just stood watching as I dove in;  they were Arizona boys and enjoyed introducing their newfound eastern friends to a cool dip.  It was a cool dip indeed.

The visit the next day to the Grand Canyon was breathtaking and the steak we had in Flagstaff was fit for Kansas City, so it was a good weekend.  And since that time I've had a number of opportunities to repeat the drive. Now with Interstate 17 from Phoenix to Flagstaff it is a snap and it's still beautiful.  But that first visit to both the Mogollon Rim and the Grand Canyon would never be the same, for the first time you see it is just so amazing and surprising, it can't be repeated.

Occasionally in the days ahead I will write blogs about my travels. I have been blessed with the opportunity to see so many wonderful places and each one adds to my belief that only a Living God could have created such beauty for man to behold and enjoy.  We just must make sure, however, that we never abuse His trust and always use it with respect and love.  After all, it's only ours to enjoy for the short time we are on this earth.  Let's save that beauty for others who come behind us to appreciate and enjoy as well.



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    Hi, I'm James, a writer who studies nature,  animals and all things created by God. I also write from time to time about what I think God expects of us.  I would love to hear your thoughts on these subjects. I hope you enjoy my comments.

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