FRIENDSHIP, LOSS AND FIGHTING

The parking lot for the high school was on the other side of the building. Most mornings the guys would meet up there before class. One Monday morning was quite different, a member of our football team was missing. He hadn't been seen since dropping off his girlfriend at home in the new town of Kearney. That had been Saturday night, the night that the mineral creek bridge had washed out. During the Monday morning parking lot meetup word came in that his car had been found downstream from that washed out bridge. Three Harmon Cousins were standing together when we got the news, Ronny Harmon, his brother Donny Harmon and myself.
There was no plan made, somehow we just knew. We were going looking for him. Before we could load up and leave, the principal came up to us and tried to get us to go on into school instead. However the upperclassmen would have it no other way, they would search for our friend. The Freshmen, including Donny Harmon and I, would stay behind at school, as a concession to the principal by the older boys. Later that day Ronny Harmon found our friend about a mile down the creek from the bridge before it ran into the Gila river. Ronny was a pall bearer at the funeral.
It wasn't long before the annual "ditch day" when upper classmen played "Hookey" from school for a day by tradition. The ditch day turned into a school wide gathering at the small park located at the Gila river where Mineral creek joins. The majority of the high school classmates had left the parking lot as a group to remember our lost classmate. School administration had no idea what was going on, so, worried about the mass exodus, they called the Police, whom found us later that afternoon down on the Gila River, the wake for Les Mcdowell was over.

TACOS GAS AND SUNRISE

I can remember that morning on the construction job quite well. It was in mid November in Tucson Arizona. I was living in a camping trailer that was getting smaller by the day as I struggled to stay on the job.
I expect that part of my problem was that my mind kept sneaking off and going back to Arkansas for Deer season. It had been a strange construction job that was plagued with labor and management issues right along. Then there was that other thing, my mind just kept sneaking off to the Ouachita mountains for deer season.
Taco Bell was opening a string of new locations across Tucson and they were selling ten tacos for a dollar. When I had filled up with gas the evening before as I cashed my check, I had walked across the street and bought a big bag of tacos.
This morning just as I left the camper I grabbed that bag of tacos and hefting it, I thought, wow, there may still be a dozen still in there. They would be lunch on the job later. After a quick stop for a bag of ice and cold drinks for the ice chest in the back seat, I arrived on the job.
I could tell right away that something was up. The foreman was in a huddle of guys gesturing with his hands in the air, instead of looking at blueprints and sending guys off on jobs. I walked up to the group and got the word, we would be off until further notice. They would call us.
Amazingly I realized that the stars had suddenly aligned !
I didn't even go back to the camp trailer, I cut across town and came out on the highway down by the triple T truck stop. The sun was just coming up, I had a ice chest full of cold sodas, a bag of tacos and I was headed east, and, yep here it comes, it was deer season in Arkansas.
By the next time that the sun came up I was beginning to smell the pine trees in the air, the sodas were warm and I was down to my last taco. I could deal with all the stuff I had left in the camp trailer refrigerator when I got back, . . . . . it was deer season in Arkansas !

COFFEE, DARK AND SILENCE

It was pretty comforting to see that old battered Stanley thermos jug sitting on the desk near the laptop. Dented and scratched, it's green paint faded and worn thin, yet I knew it was still a good one. It would hold fresh hot coffee for hours, even when being opened to pour a cup at various times through the day.

Something had awaken me during the night, and I thought back upon it. An old ghost from SEA, South East Asia, had followed me back stateside and would come to visit from time to time. Probably prompted by sleeping in one position for too long and a aching hip.

Though it was 0330 hrs., it was time to get up and sit for a bit. No checking the cell phone for messages, no seeing if there might be an email on the laptop, just me and the warmth of a hot cup of coffee in the dark, still of the night.

Old Smudge the Cat was on the job. He was laying on the roof of the jeep. Silently observing every least sound and movement. He looked at the kitchen window where I watched in silence. Somehow he knew I was there. A brief "I SEE YOU' passed between us, like two silent sentry's passing in the dark, giving a slight knod of the head that meant "ALL'S WELL".

As the ghost faded into the past once again and the hip ceased it's aching, I knew Smudge was right, all was well and it was back to bed for me.

I thought, as I dozed back into a restful sleep, some people here on the internet complain about cat tracks on their car but not me ! It's a small price to pay for being sure that there are no Mice chewing on the jeep's wiring. No snake around our door step. No rodent sneaking in the house to plunder.

Thanks, Smudge for a job well done and leaving your calling card for us to see.

UNCLE CHUCK AND THE HARLEY DAVIDSON

UNCLE CHUCK AND THE HARLEY DAVIDSON

The walk back from the mail box was usually pretty dull. Ol' Ruff, my buddy and squirrel dog had already stirred up all of the excitement that he could on the way up to the mail box. But today was different, there had been a letter from Uncle Chuck in the mail box !

It was the biggest part of a mile out to the county road and that was where the mail box was located, on the letter carrier's mail route going west towards Oklahoma. On the way out Ruff had chased and treed every squirrel along the way, and, he had stirred up the resident water moccasin at the branch crossing.

The long walk back was going pretty quickly as mom read the letter., with occasional breaks for such things as crossing the stepping stones at the branch. And the usual stern admonitions to Ruff and I, such as get out of that and stay away from the other, so on and so forth. At the branch crossing we could still smell the stink of that old water moccasin that Ruff had really riled up.

As Mom continued to read we learned that Uncle Chuck, Charles Thurman Harmon, had went halves with a buddy he was in the Army with, and had bought a Military surplus Harley Davidson. And, now here is the cool part, they planned to ride it home from way over near the coast.

Now, talk about exciting ! Here was a cool Uncle that I hadn't seen since I was too young to remember, a warrior coming home from the great war, on a Harley Davidson motorcycle ! They would be traveling US Highway 70 to Durant Oklahoma and since we were not too far off of the route would be stopping to visit for a few days. Holey cow !

Speculation ran high around the evening supper table that evening. Topics about the travel time, Army discharge date and weather were being thrown about so fast that we forgot to turn on the battery powered radio to hear the Louisiana  Hay Ride program. That was a favorite radio show that we almost never missed.

We knew that they would ride mostly in the daylight and avoid riding at night, especially when they started up into the Ouachita Mountains where the roads were considerably in worse condition.

Time seemed to pass ever so slowly as we listened for the exotic motorcycle sound coming down the road to our house. A few days later when we finally heard that sound the weather had changed for the worse and it had slowed down their progress. They were both still in Army Uniform with heavy wool long coats, gloves and goggles on.

Ruff just knew that we were being attacked by a dragon and rushed out to bite a tire, nearly causing a wreck by the well in the front yard ! After getting Ruff called off, the hugging and back slapping began.

Soon the whole family was sitting around the kitchen table exchanging tales and catching up on family events since Uncle Chuck had last seen us.

Coffee, sausage biscuits left over from breakfast and lots of smiles and laughing. Uncle Chuck was home at last !