....Hangin' out with the Boys in their Journey out West....

                       
                     We last left Jack Long & John Henry at a cross-roads in and around Mid-West in South Wyoming, setting their sights on the next job that might suit them at that time. Just getting back from a horrendous job that could have landed them in Jail or worse! But as we learn more about these two, that would be a somewhat normal experience.....

            We were at a junction, both in the present state of mind and also in our lives, to just what we should be doing. Right now we have to decide which road to take in order to make a living out here. Henry wasn't much help, since he was more of a loner than I and could care less what or which way to go, as long as he got paid and didn't get shot. So most of the time I was the one to chose. 
         As we traveled down a more well beaten trail, I could feel something just wasn't right. I just wanted to head out and find a group of wild horses to wrangle or a heard of cattle to bring to an Auction.
        Lucky that we got an early start, the afternoon Sun was starting to shine full, and the heat from it really wasn't what we needed now. We picked up the pace a bit just to get further down the trail to try and decide which way to go...it was going to be East toward Oklahoma, to see about some cattle, or Southwest for another group of horses, that a couple big Ranchers would put a nice size bid on at Auction.
        My thoughts  favored the horses, they tend to be cleaner and not as much trouble. They also brought more at Auction in lesser numbers, then the cattle, where the dust and dirt always flew, and would have to make an extra cut in pay so that the other wranglers got a decent payday. The Horses, we usually could handle ourselves, with maybe one extra man to cover ourselves in the open Range.

      Now the Sun gave us some relief by going behind some clouds, good in one way, but were we in for an afternoon storm..? We worked our way though a patch of trees and bushes, before it opened up to an open area of sand and tumble weeds. This was not a good sign. We had to continue in hopes of finding a better place to camp, I wasn't about to back track to that thicket, which would have given us some relief, and besides it was still too early by our standards to make camp.
      We worked our way over the sandy hillside, staying on the knoll so that we could see both sides, keeping one eye out for a better way, and the other out for Indians. There were some friendly ones but also hostile's that didn't like people from the other 'World' invading their land. As an Eastern Indian, like Henry, we could honor that belief, but as a hard wrangling Cowboy, trying to etch-out some kind of life out here, well now that was a different story. 
     
     Soon we made it to what appeared to be a spot where some have passed before. It didn't take long to notice that it did have some type of campsite not long ago. As we made our way over, I could make out a slight groan, that only a weak and desperate human could make. Henry heard it too, and motioned me over to an open spot, subject to all of Natures elements. There, only a few feet away was what looked like a head with no body visible. As we approched on foot, being skeptical of what the Hell it could have been but not a human head. Henry got close enough to exclaim that it was some Black guy. Well it wasn't just any Black guy, it was Grover, the man we pretty much saved his ass back in that small town.
    When he finally came to his senses, and had to concentrate on what was happening, he gave out a loud roar. Only a man like that could have survived being buried up to his head, left to die by a tribe of hostile Comanches. The story goes that this tribe of Indians believed that the Black man, since they don't see too many out there, had special powers, that couldn't not be controlled. So in stead of killing them they leave them to die on their own, thinking that the Great Spirit they posses does not come after them.

    Needless to say Grover was overwhelmed that we got there in time. He didn't have much more time. The top of his head was raw from the Sun, and his eyes could barely stay open. Maybe that Indian Folk Lore had some truth to it.
     After a time where we had to pitch camp and tend to Grover, he told us that after we saw him the time in that small town, where we saved hi the first time, he headed back east where he ran into his old boss Edmond Pierce, the ship magnet from Boston. He was talked into joining him and his Wagon Train, going out West, to try another venture that his brother in-law told him about in California.
     They got this far when they got ambushed by those Indians, and before he knew it Pierce had gotten away, leaving him behind. 

  
   
     

....Can You Clearly See...?

          I am going to post a poem that I wrote back in the '70's. It is one among many that I have written in hopes of sharing what Nature means to me, having grown up along side a River.

                                       Can You Clearly See

                        Rocks in the water, a bend in the Stream,
                a flow which enters the River.....
                Can you Clearly see, a home is there for many,
                along the Banks and within the Rushing Water....

                Can one Clearly see, two Snakes winding along side,
                one of which is Swimming, the other just to glide.

                We can Clearly see that it makes it's way 
                through the Valleys, beneath the towering Hills;
                a passage for all  to Venture,
                but in numbers, it may Kill...!

                The water has become Muddy, 
                from what we are not sure, but with some help
                and understanding we can make it Pure....

                Can man Defy Nature, of which an animal cannot afford,
                or shall we Stop, Look & Listen....
                something we should have done before.

                The River is our Home, for many it shall be,
                a place for life & happiness....
                that now you can Clearly see....!

   

.....more Museings from my Auntie.....

                 As I have done in the past, I've added the Writings of my Aunt, who was born on the same day as myself in May. She was the youngest girl out of five sister's and four brothers, my father being the youngest of them all. Aunt Connie would always try and get my dad in trouble, as they were the ones who played together the most. 
        Now her next sister older, was my Aunt Rachel. She too was close to Connie. This next entry is from Connie, telling a few things about Rachel as they grew up in the 1930's.....

        She was a sickly kid, at one time Mama was worried, afraid of T. B. Here are things that I remember of Rachel and things we did together.

      In Warren we walked from Above All to the one room  center School on dirt roads and barefoot. We ate our lunches together and played games with other kids. At 4:00 P.M. we walked home again on a dirt road a mile and a half with the rest of our family. The boys usually racing ahead. One Winter's day we were let out early and she said she knew a short cut, through the woods and over stone walls. It was the longest 'short cut' I've ever taken! I was seven and the snow was three feet deep. She had to come back and help me, and decided the short cut wasn't such a good idea.
    
     One time she Becky [ another sister] and I were fooling on the stairs and she fell knocking the breath out of her....so there was quite a commotion as to who pushed her. She blamed Becky, but I think it was all of us....since those steps were steep and narrow.

     She and I were home from school one spring day and Mama couldn't find Nate [my father] who was about five at the time. We ran through the fields calling his name, and finally to the pond, but no sight of him. We were sweating, breathless and frightened. At that time the mailman came and we were going to ask him for help, when Nate came out of the new little garage being built. He went there there and crawled behind some lumber and fell asleep. The Model T woke him and he came out rubbing his eyes oblivious to what was going on.

     Rachel and I picked wild strawberries together, and huckleberries. She would practice teaching when the weather confined us, when she wasn't reading. She taught me how to print my name and write it, also taught us the Alphabet. I couldn't wait to learn to read, and once I learned a few words, I drove her nuts by continually asking what this and that word was. She certainly helped me in High School so I could understand Algebra enough to get a passing grade. She graduated from Washington High that year as Salutatorian just two points less than the Valedictorian!

    The first two years of Busing was in a long truck like they used to peddle vegetables, with flaps on the sides to keep out the snow and rain. On good days they were rolled up. No door on the back just open. In the Winter our feet got so cold, we had Chilbains when we finally got to school. Rachel had to wear High Top old ladies shoes, and how she hated them. I had to wear boys shoes, I was rough on shoes. We had lunches in the same pail, usually plain bread and butter, or cheese or dried beef. Sometimes mother would give us a custard cup and a spoon. Rachel and Harley [my uncle next up from my father] got into a fight once and he kicked the dinner pail over which broke the cup and we had soggy sandwiches! 
   In High School, she helped me with my Algebra homework...I just couldn't understand how it worked! Then she went to Danbury normal school, then after becoming a teacher, taught her first two years in Brookfield. 
   On a class trip to Washington D.C. she bought me a new outfit to wear. Our father brought us to church and mother made us go to Vacation Bible School, probably just to get rid of us. I think we went two years.
   Rachel worked summers at Lake Waramaug State Park selling ice cream, etc. One evening while Pa was on vacation..he was the first Park Ranger in the State...we took the State Truck and drove to Ruths, our other sister. The brakes gave out, but she held it in the road! Another time we went up Rabbit Hill road and down Couch road, she hit a boulder by the side of the narrow road, which knocked the truck out of line. So when we got home, he had thought Harley had done it. [ poor Harley got blamed for everything, my mother blamed him for taking the Dandlaline Wine that I had taken from the 'cold cellar' when I was about thirteen]

       Rachel taught years in Warren, then went to Sharon and taught at the Center School forth grade. There she met George Stone. He lived in Port Chester and she and I would go there and visit him.
    
       We went to the Radio City Music Hall one time. Another time driving to Port Chester in November for Thanksgiving  dinner, she was going pretty fast, there were ice patches on the road, she hit one and the car turned right around with its rear against the a post, damaging the gas tank. We did have enough to get back to Danbury and left the car to be fixed, and grabbeda train back to Port Chester.

    In the summer we would walk around the three mile triangle in an afternoon...one time we found George Clarke hanging from a church window, dead...!
   We went horse back riding together, alto she didn't like it as much as I did. One time she was on a little black Mare, rode it to the watering trough and when the Mare had her drink, whirled around made it back into the barn knocking Rachel off into the drop, ruining her new light colored jacket. Once we rode up the hill to Jack corner Road heading for Warren, the horses were galloping, Rachel was ahead of me, her left stirrup broke and she tumbled into a pool of water near Bill Smalley's house. They brought us in until she could get over the shock, then we returned home, she probably walked.

    In 1935 or '36 we took a trip thru Vermont, New Hampshire and a ferry across Lake Champlain. Cabins a dollar per night. Went Lake Ticonderoga and didn't even go in. Saw Lake George and came home. Think we were only gone three days, so I think mother was too happy to see us back so soon.
    We went to Cape Cod, to Maine and to Ottawa...at different times of course...After she was married, she would often have us down for a big dinner. When Linda [ Connie's oldest daughter] was born she and two other teachers came to see me in the Hospital and what a pleasant surprise it was.

    When Harley was confined to a Home in new Britain/Hartford, they took me to see him several times.
    One year she went on a trip with Andy [ next brother up from Harley] I think they got as far as Texas.

    Rachel was operated on for cancer, and two years later July 6th 2001 she just went to sleep Tom, her son, was with her and taking care of her. She didn't know what she would ever had done without him.

    I miss going to see her, although I didn't go that often but I missed the phone calls and just knowing I had a sister that I could relate to.


      I'm writing this on the birthday of one of my sister's who passed away down in Miami in 1995, she was just 49. We all have families we look up to in hopes of them being there for us, I would like to think  that just the fact that they are in our thoughts brings some relief......just as my Aunt said at the end,   " I miss going to see her ...I miss the phone calls...and just knowing I had a sister that I could relate to..."

       .....Peace and love to all.............
     
      

Pleading the Fifth....

        
          Having made it this far at this point in time, having a week that took a little longer than expected, I came across what now seems to be a day where I can take in what seems to be most relevant to the circumstances that took place.
     First of all I had the distinct experience to get a procedure done on my back in hopes of relieving some of the pain that I have to endure with my Sciatica problem. At times before that I always thought maybe a 'Fifth' would be the cure-all. Not at all the case, I would have to go through with the Epidural  shots recommended, since any operation was not recommended, and was find with me.
    After having that procedure done, I soon found myself in a better mental state, if not physical, for the time being. I was able to function for a few days without much pain, but still skeptical of any long term benefits. Sure enough I did have a recurrence with a substantial amount of pain.
    
    Now at the same time I found on my computer this young Cheerleader, who for reasons beyond my belief, thought it was just fine to go to Africa and kill large wild game, some of which was protected. I took it upon my self to declare her the dumbest, most disrespectful Bitch on the planet! Going to the sites that had shown her actions...the first was Channel 10, CBS. Then got on her fb site, where she proclaimed justification of her actions. All of which just did not fit in the realm of the goodness of society that is trying to protect these wonderful, magnificent beast of beauty. 
    In the period of 'ranting' all over fb trying to find supporters, I did come across one I didn't know & now 'friended' so that we could get more of the word out. Eventually, fb did make my post available, and I finally heard back from others their displeasure in the cheerleaders actions. By the end of the day, I had found out that her site was taken down from fb, but on the out-set, she did get the show on T.V. which I'm sure was a matter of greedy executives looking for the big bucks!
    
     Out of all this, my pain seems less consequential, and my beliefs are still intact, although a small victory, I do believe that Karma has prevailed......

 

....following up on the 'Elevens'...

                 This is something that I would like to add to the number 'Eleven', that has quite a impact, not just on my life and birthday, but for other relative circumstances. I found a card that I've had for some years now, and would like to share what it explains about
that particular number in numerology. 

                         If born on the Eleventh: Inspiration


      You have the incredible ability to help others connect with their sense of wonder and zest for life. Your passion for living and personal vitality inspires everyone to open to their creativity.  Within you dwells a rushing river of energy waiting to be tapped and harnessed. You are a dynamo of creativity! A powerful emotional drive motivates you to consummate your visions and desires. It may be expressed through dreams, adventures or breakthroughs at the work place. Creative thinking, intimacy and nurturing are also avenues through which you may express yourself.

       This much raw, primal energy can feel as though it has a life of it's own. It does! Use your power instead of stifling it. Be original. It only takes one person to activate change. You might not fit society's pictures, but not to worry. Yours is the master number of inspiration.

       CAREER: Educator, writer, performing artist, religious or spiritual leader, composer, philosopher, counselor.

         CHALLENGES: You may doubt yourself or feel insecure because you are an original thinker. You are delightfully different. When feelings out of balance, ask ' Am I following my dreams and visions ?' Don't worry about how others may perceive you; you are ahead of the pack...they'll catch up!

       Now most of all...Beauty, nature and spiritual ideals are very important to you. Remember to ride the wave of creativity and lust for life as far as possible. Others surely will be inspired by your example.

        I'm not sure how many of you believe in this sort of thing, but for me most of it seems to be Spot on, if not for me than my wonderful and talented Granddaughter, Marley Love, whose birthday is January Eleventh! 
        The number itself has many truths behind it, as we all can testify with certain dates. I have many going through my head, but for now, I'm not sure where this card came from, but I do profess that it being in my hands now, only amplifies all that it has said.

      Now I'll give you what it says on the back about all in general:
      
      What's right about you? Yes, there are many wonderful qualities about you and every person you know. By focusing on the positive and using it as a lifeline to pull us to a place of greater contentment in ourselves, we take steps to create a world full of harmony and well-being. Sometimes we must work top develop them. Our challenges can point the way to discovering our gifts hidden beneath the surface. The effort we put into learning new ways will be bountifully rewarded.

      When forced with life's challenges, we all have times we need a lifeline to hang on to what's right about us. These cards have been created using numerology and other archetypal systems with the intention of highlighting our strengths. But valuing who we are, we can open more fully to the wonders of those around us, and all of life.

      If any of you would like to contact this card company....it's:

                        HEALING ARTS
                        P.O. box 510
                        San Geronimo, Cal.  94963
                        Phone: 415 488-4738
    

  
      

.....a celebration of the 'Elevens'....

            At this time in May, always brings back memories of places, people, and things, that come swarming back to me from the past 'lives' that I have encountered in my life. This comes about, since tomorrow is not being just my birthday, and that it is Mothers Day...but for this particular one has many other entities, most of which relate to one and other at different times of my life.

       I was born on Mother's Day, May 11th 1949. They said it could not have happened at a better time, that being Lunch time. I also would be the last child born from my mother, who at the time was forty, and was un-heard of to have babies so late in life. She already had five daughters ahead of me, but without giving up hope to finally having a boy!
        My Aunt Connie was also born on the 11th, and was the youngest girl, only to have my father be younger, also the youngest in his family. I've written some excerpts that my Aunt had wrote in her later years, and those having to do with my Dad that she would always be playing pranks on in the good nature way since they always played together, and well I guess she could get away with it.....and that I know for being in the same position.

       As I grew older I had the chance to meet some very interesting people. Now being at this point of growing into those.. how do you say, 'Golden Years'....lack of better ways of putting it, I've had the unusual timing to meet these people, and to live a frantic but fun life, within my own family, and that of others.
      The first to come to mind, mostly since he not only just left us, but had a most extraordinary life of his own, then passing some of that on to me. Thomas Donald Barry became a good friend and mentor in many plots and sub-plots to activities that I would have never experienced without him. One thing that stands out the most is when we were putting one of our music  festivals together, he suggested that we make a promotional video to go along with the ordinary posters and fliers that we were going to distribute. 
     Tom, who liked himself as the directer, liked to kid around saying that it was all in the name...T. D. Barry, or as he laughingly put it...'Trip Directer' Barry!
     So it began a long friendship that with it came a movie we shot at Warren Woods, with he directing myself and my two dogs at the time, Tokas and Charlie, getting very good footage so that it became the promo piece we took to all the bars in the area to announce the up and coming 'Party' at the 'Woods'. That becoming my claim to fame in a Movie. After that were stills shot in and around down town New York City. A spot on the local radio station that our friend Dimitry set up for an interview explaining what was going to take place, which ourselves weren't even sure at the time. 
    Yes I was, as Howard Stern put it, King of all media, since later I was on Television for the 'Ugliest' Bar Tender...then last but not least, was put in a book about the area in the Northwest part of Connecticut.
     Most all of which wouldn't have happened without Tom, who in his own right had done most of that in his previous life.
     
    The other friends who come to mind, with great memories, of this month, would be a friend who I've been friends with since Kindergarden, Kirk Freudenburg, who's birthday is two days after mine, and will be celebrating our SIXTY years of friendship now and in August at the 'Reunion-Memorial-Tribute' party on Sat. the 16th. Also some that this is all about...Steve Rudus, who's Birthday was last Thursday, the 8th. Then many more that I'll mention a few...Shrdlu, a good friend and fine musician, that I know would, and still may be wailing on the Harp...Micheal Allen and his brother, Larry.....Barry  Q....who is always present in my mind, John Henry, who as you may know, I'm trying to keep alive in another life's story.....my dear friend 'Ty' who will always be with me, as she was a big part of my life!
     There are so many more, and I'm sure you'll keep their memory alive, as myself and others will do as we pass along this long and winding road, may they stay in our hearts forever, and they fine Peace in their new World!

    
     

.....going the distace on that Last Train...

              Tom and I became close friends fairly quickly, with a lot of the same type of energy, which we shared quickly that Summer when I told him about the 'Party' I wanted to throw, based on some other ones that I had been to in the Litchfield area. Other friends that I met while living in Litchfield when I was still married, had been putting on spontaneous parties any where they could. One of which that stood out was the one that Robbie Roberson ....different 'Robbie'....had put together in part of a State Forest, deep in the woods. He supplied Chicken, and you brought the beer. Beer was the main choice of drink at the time and easy to transport.
       
       So began the thought process of doing one of my own, since I had gone to several, and thought it only right to be my turn. It hadn't taken me that long to come up with a place to have it. Warren Woods was the natural conclusion, having plenty of room for a few close friends to enjoy the surroundings, which not only had out buildings which included a kitchen, but some 'shelters' and a stage. It also came with a beautiful pond out back. 
       Tom and I soon found ourselves planning this 'little' gathering that I had Dubbed...'Alive in '75 - Lake Country Green'....a little something to commemorate the passing of my father that Spring of '74...April 24th. Also a subtle suggestion of ' Keeping the Lake Country Green' as part of my environment concerns that I had connections with at the Housatonic Valley Association. It did however come out that there was a underlying suggestion of a possible second meaning to that last part of the slogan. 
       We found ourselves running around getting the bumper stickers for that slogan, so that we could present some proper advertising. Also confirming the Park, the food, some entertainment, and of course the beer! Tom also planned on showing his movie which at that point we had made a full circle to when and how we met.
        The date was set for the 24th of May, a meaningful Date, and as it turned out, we did two more on the 24th. The next one was that same Summer in August, and then the last one in July of 1976. All on the 24th. 
       
      The day had finally come, as we had secured a half ton of Chicken and 40 kegs of beer, all of which was consumed by that 'small' gathering of one Thousand 'close' friends....all enjoying music from many local musicians! 
      Every thing pretty much came together thanks to many close friends that helped to make this happen, and that's what it seemed to reveal, that it was indeed a 'Happening' that was never duplicated, as much as we had tried to do with the other two: 'Independence '76, Remember America',in honor at that time was celebrating the 200th year of our country. The 'last' one, 'Warren Woods...Dirt Roads are Down to Earth', another subtle hint of trying to keep the past Alive. Although it did have the same turn-out as the first, it was overshadowed by having the whole Troop L from the Lichfield police swam in at the end. That didn't set well with the 'powers to be' at the Town of Warren, and when it came around to applying for another go at it that next year, they had come to the conclusion that they didn't want those 'Types' coming into their town park.
 
      Every year after, I was asked if I would do another..as some called it...a 'Mini Woodstock', I just could not get back that same feeling I had when Tom and I along with so many close friends, had done what was done then.

    Now as we approach the 40th Anniversary  of the first Warren Woods, I find myself held in the balance of two entities. One being just the fact of doing a party....not as big of course..and the other having so many of those good, dear friends gone from ours lives, but never forgotten. Well thanks to many friends that have started a new era of remembrance, that we are now having every year in August, I do hope to have at least another next year for all the occasions....!
     
.......................Looking forward to seeing you there.....