Mitchell Way
Zechariah 8:23 (ESV): Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.
As long as I have known my wife Cheryl, she has had a relationship with her Lord that is firmly grounded. If you know her, you know who she lives for and you know that she is not afraid to share the gospel with anyone who seeks her counsel.
Thanksgiving 1965, my mom and my cousin Gae were alone in Gae’s kitchen. The buzzer on her counter sounded and Gae rushed to the oven door, looked through the glass window and announced, “The turkey looks done. Yell down the stairs and tell everyone to come up to the table.”
“There are those who speak about you who say, ‘He lost an arm, he lost a leg, she lost her sight.’
I object!
You gave your arm, you gave your leg, you gave your sight, as gifts to your nation so that we might live in freedom.
Thank you. And to your families, families of the fallen and families of the wounded, you’ve sacrificed in ways that those of us who have not walked in your shoes, can only imagine.”
General Peter M. Pace
It was a curving section of the county road with a posted speed of 35 mph. Farms and homesteads lined both sides of the road as did overhanging maple and alder trees.
“Slow up in the curve. Almost to . . . yep, there he is.”
I am standing out on the Meridian High School infield next to the pole vault pit. It is a multi-school track meet. The weather is absolutely atrocious. Quite possibly, this is the end of the world as we know it. Roars of thunder, flashes of lightning, sheets of rain followed by hail the size of marbles which are trying to destroy my umbrella, and yet, the track meet goes on.
Cow tipping is nothing about slipping a cow a $5.00 bill after a nice fresh glass of milk.
The term Cow Tipping is an urban legend thought to have been started sometime in the 1970s. It involved going out at night and searching the farmlands to find a cow that was sleeping standing up. (This was usually done by inebriated high school, or college age boys.) The legend has it that two or more boys snuck up to a slumbering cow and pushed it from the side causing the cow to topple over onto the ground.
Forty-five years. That is a long time to wait for a project to become reality.
Great Men, the ones that are few and far between. The ones that inspire you to greatness. The ones you want to emulate. How can I best honor them when they are gone?
In 2009 my mother, Patty, decided she would like to take her family to the Big Island of Hawaii. She had time shares in a condo, so she acquired two waterfront rooms for seven days in Kona. There were four families in the group. Mom’s husband had recently experienced a heart attack and was in a rehabilitation center, so mom had a spare airline ticket. She asked her niece, Gae, to join her.
I knew a man named Bud. He was one of my scout masters. Bud was average height and build. He had little hair left on his head and what he did have, he combed over his bald scalp. Bud also had a glass eye. How he lost his eye, I do not remember, but some nights as we sat around the campfire, he would pop it into his hand just to gross us boys out.
Author’s note: In April of 2005 I had the opportunity to perform this song for Ralph Pauley at the Alumni Band’s spring concert (video is below). I was helped with the talents of Alumni Band members and the BHS Swing Choir. In August of 2005 he passed away. It was an honor to play for the Music Man.
I knew a man who had his own band, the Bellingham High School Red Raider Band. The first time I met him I was the young age of ten. He marched his whole band to the far side of town, and he showed my small school how big band should sound. He showed off each instrument and he challenged the children to play. The thing that I saw in the eyes of his band when he raised his baton and he tapped on his stand was a sense of respect and admiration for the man and I knew . . . it was an honor to play for the Music Man. They marched straight and tall for the Music Man. They gave it their all for the Music Man was their mentor, their teacher, their friend.
2009-2020
My granddog, Milton Barry and I walked through the tall grass to a hilly knoll overlooking the ocean. He wasn’t walking as fast in his old age, but he didn’t mind the walk together. As the afternoon sun was setting, we sat together and I laid my hand on his back.
“Be careful. Don’t break it!” he growled.
“The two pieces of pipe aren’t lining up,” I said. “If I put anymore strain on this PVC elbow, I think it’s going to break.”
Gerald Metzger and I were installing new meters in the water association shutoff boxes. Gerald had for many years been the association mechanic. His dad helped found our association and it was officially known as the first registered water association in the United States. As I lay on the ground over the meter box, Gerald stood over me barking orders while staring into the hole.