Friday Friends Apology Edition

(This is a re-print from a Facebook post on my timeline.  I'm placing it here as I believe it never showed up on FB.  Maybe I was in Facebook Jail?)

Friday Friends Apology Edition

It’s been more than six months now. It had been an eventful day. My daughters convinced me to go to Dallas to run a 5K with them. It was the second one of my life. I had run my first 5K with my daughters and I vowed that there wouldn’t be a second one. Daughters! Gotta love them.

After dinner we all adjourned to the living room. I knew something was up as the grandkids willingly went into the room, some with their boyfriend/girlfriend in tow and nervously sat anywhere there was empty space.

Then my daughters presented me with the booklet with my picture on the front of it. They had contacted friends of mine and asked to write letters to me for my 70th birthday. I flipped through the pages and tried to read the words through blurred eyes. Quiet settled over the room as a smile settled in on my face as I turned each page.

I don’t recall how the subject came up, but someone wanted to know a little about the letters. Rather than read the letters I recounted to my family my relationship to each of the people who had written and why they were special to me. Former classmate. Co-workers. Former students. Associates from church. Family. “Adopted” children and siblings. My voice cracked a few times and an occasional tear streaked across my cheek.

I don’t know why I picked up that little booklet again Wednesday night and thumbed through it. Now that I did it, I realize I had to read through it again.

Six months had passed and other things have happened in my life. There were trips, one with a grandchild and others for bike rides. There were trips to visit family. We experienced heartbreak in our home. We experienced blessings unnumbered. There were reunions with friends in our home and elsewhere. There were bills to pay, plans to make, obligations to keep, and adjustments to make in our new home. In the midst of it all, in spite of all the blessings and wonderful things that have happened in my life in the last six months I think I may have lost my way. In addition to the great and marvelous events in my life, there have been some deep concerns on my mind. In short, I’ve been a bit terse in remarks that I’ve made to people I care deeply about. One person referred to it as “mean.” It should never have happened. I have been most ungrateful.

And so, I read the letters again Wednesday night. And I must apologize to those I’ve lashed out and to others who perceived a darker side of me.

Here’s to you. Friends.

End-to End

Yesterday, Saturday, October 6, 2018, my oldest son and youngest daughter joined me in finishing the KATY Trail in Missouri.  Ben rode the first 70 miles with me earlier this year, then Megan rode with me from the beginning of the trail in Clinton, Missouri, to Defiance, Missouri.  We all wanted to make our way to the end, so we picked up the trail in Defiance again and rode to the opposite end of the trail in Machens, Missouri.  Since there really isn't any place to park at the end of the trail, we doubled back at the end of the trail to the next to last trailhead at Black Walnut where Susan picked us up.

The trail from Defiance to Machens is mostly flat, so we were able to make good time except for one place.  We averaged over 12 mph (I slowed everyone down in the pace), though there was one stretch where we averaged over 14 mph.  The trail was great until we got east of St. Charles.  Whoever was in charge of the trail dumped about a foot of finely crushed limestone all the way to Machens.  The crushed limestone was just a little larger than sand.  Even walking on it was a challenge.  There were places along the trail that our trail bike tires simply sunk down into the limestone causing us to lose control of our bikes.  I nearly crashed two or three times because of the "improved" condition of the trail.  We all commented that it was worse than a 35 mile section of trail that was primarily uphill.  It required every ounce of muscle we had to slog through the limestone on the trail.  It was so bad that people we met along the trail were turning back, refusing to force themselves any further.

When we got to Black Walnut, about 3.1 miles from the finish and the point where we were going to be picked up anyway, we considered just quitting, but then we knew if we did that we would regret quitting before the end and that we would never be able to say that we went end-to-end.  We pushed on.

Within minutes of leaving, a severe storm fell upon us from the west.  Tree branches were literally flying across the trail.  Some landed on the trail while others flew completely over the trail at about five or six feet above the trail.  As I rode on I was grateful that I was wearing a helmet, but nothing would have prevented a limb from flying into me, possibly impaling me in my chest.  In spite of the lose crushed limestone, the wind was so severe that it would push my bike toward the edge of the trail.  We pushed on.

Eventually, we saw the end trailhead at Machens.  Again, we considered our options.  Finding it would be difficult without clear directions.  The wind was letting up, so we decided to return to Black Walnut.  We rode fast and furious.  The return 3.1 miles didn't seem as bad as it was when we were headed out to Machens, but then it began to sprinkle and then rain.  Never did anything look as sweet as the trailhead at Black Walnut.

Susan was there and we were able to load our gear in and bikes onto the car.  We rode home wet, but no worse for wear.

As I contemplated our ride, I couldn't help but think about how disappointed we would have been had we turned around like other bikers did when they first encountered the foot-deep crushed limestone.  Then, as the end came into view more discouragement was heaped upon us.  Then as we headed to our final destination, the place where we would find final shelter, the winds returned with rain.  It was as though everything conspired to discourage us, but we persevered.  We finished the course.

I think that life is often that way.  Sometimes we get bogged down in the thickness of life.  We move forward with every ounce of strength we have.  We swerve.  We stumble.  Sometimes we crash.  Then, as you think the end is in sight, even more challenges can fall upon you.  Yes, you can quit, but if you do, you miss completing your destiny.

We were all tired.  Exhausted.  Sore.  But, we finished.  We met our goal.

Not only that, but we did it as a family.

Confirmation Hearing Circus

Defining Moments Monday

Needless to say, I am deeply troubled by the entire circus surrounding Judge Brett Kavanaugh’s Senate Confirmation Hearings and the two allegations made against him about sexual misconduct.  I do not know if the allegations against him are true or not.  Those of you reading this don’t know either.

In no way do I want to diminish the seriousness, the tragedy, the humiliation of victims of sexual violence or misconduct.  While I studied sex crimes investigations with the FBI and spent a fair amount of time in my policing career investigating sex crimes, I have nothing but compassion for those who have been victimized of this most horrific, demeaning crime.  I understand that I can never comprehend the daily agony that a person must go through following such victimization.

I also know that alleged perpetrators are wrongly accused and it is not a rare occasion when it happens.  My career taught me that there are multiple reasons for false allegations made against people and that those false allegations also have long-standing, painful consequences for those accused of such.  I suspect that all of us at one time or another have been wrongly accused of something, not necessarily of a sexual nature, and can have an appreciation of the sickening feeling that overcomes one when victimized of a false allegation.  Most of my former colleagues and those currently in the law enforcement field know what it is like to be falsely accused of wrongdoing.  No matter how many times it happens you never get used to it.  Unfortunately, it comes with the territory.  And, no matter how often you are cleared of false allegations, the cloud of doubt never goes completely away.

A defining moment came to me in my policing career when I learned that memories can be created seemingly out of thin air.  It happens.  Events that never happened can become very real in people’s minds, and nothing one can say or prove will convince the “victim” otherwise.  And, unfortunately, just like copycat crimes that occur, copycat victimizations also happen.  I’ve seen it first-hand.  I saw it spin absolutely out of control.  The self-created victimizations come out of the woodwork.

I reiterate.  I have nothing but compassion for those who have been victims of sexual or any other type of abuse.  It is inexcusable.  And while the timing of the allegations against Judge Kavanaugh is suspect (and shame, shame, shame on Diane Feinstein for holding this ace up her sleeve until the very last moment), I draw no conclusions as to his participation in the allegations made against him.  However, I also have compassion for those wrongly accused of any act or crime.

At best, if Judge Kavanaugh is confirmed, even if he is completely exonerated, he has essentially been neutered.  He will join the ranks of Justice Clarence Thomas and slide into history as irrelevant.  (By the way, I personally like Justice Thomas.  There is more to him than what meets the eye,)  If shown by clear and convincing evidence that he has committed these acts, he should be disbarred – not for having committed them, but for lying.  Meanwhile, it is inconceivable to me that there is already talk of impeachment of Judge Kavanaugh should his appointment to the Court be approved.

There are a number of lessons to be learned from this whole confirmation circus.  Where do I begin?

1.     As Americans, we tend to jump on the latest craze as it sweeps the nation.  Just like new toys that come out and are gobbled up by children, we tend to jump onto the latest social fads only to find that there is not nearly as much substance to them as what was first declared.
2.     No male is safe now from #MeToo.  (I have grown fearful of responding with a “me too” instead of “I agree” or “it happened to me as well.”)
3.     Youthful indiscretions will come back to haunt you – or someone else.
4.     While we should never blame the victim for victimization, there is something to be said for not putting yourself into dangerous situations. 
5.     Never, ever underestimate the power of alcohol.
6.     Contrary to popular opinion, the motivation to dominate a woman is not the only reason men commit sex crimes.
7.     There is something to be said for living a virtuous life.
8.     As you should never judge a book by its cover you should never judge an allegation by its content.

At this point, I don’t know which outcome will be worse, whether the allegations be proven to be true or if they are proven to be false.

Defining Moments Monday - The First Amendment

Defining Moments Monday

The First Amendment to the United States Constitution isn’t about the Five Freedoms.

I have been interested in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights at least ever since I was in high school. However, I have taken greater interest in the Bill of Rights in the Last 45 years.  My good friend Richard E. Miller has suggested that those first ten amendments should really be called the Bill of Rights and Responsibilities.  I agree with him 100%, but he said it first, so you should look to him for his explanation.

I’ve decided that the First Amendment in the Bill of Rights is the foundation of the remaining nine amendments. Here is the wording of the First Amendment.  

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

First, please note that these “freedoms” are guaranteed to the PEOPLE and come before anything else in the Bill of Rights.

Second, the very first freedom is “freedom” of religion, or more particularly, we are free of Congress from telling us what we must believe (or not to believe) concerning religion.  Along with this is a promise that government will not interfere with anyone’s exercise of their religious convictions.  More importantly, this is a recognition that God, whatever form that being may take in any person’s mind, is at the forefront of all those basic freedoms.  Content Alert: Here’s some history.

The Commonwealth of Virginia in 1776 began work on its Declaration of Rights.  George Mason had suggested that “"all men should enjoy the fullest toleration in the exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience...."  James Madison objected to this wording suggesting that the “toleration” of religion was a gift of government and not an inalienable right, and suggested that "all men are entitled to the full and free exercise" of religion instead.

“Thank you, James Madison.”  

Years later Madison would put pen to paper to write our Constitution then write what would be ratified in 1789 as the Bill of Rights.  This fourth President of the United State, a deeply religious man, would not only become known as the Father of the Constitution, but also as a defender of religious liberty.  Given a mountain of facts not presented here, it is extremely difficult to deny that Madison’s thoughts were focused on the role of God and religion on this fledgling country of ours.  He was careful to separate the RULE of “the Church” on “the State”, but he never really intended to prohibit or forbid the INFLUENCE of God on our nation.  Remember that Madison was the one who said, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.”

Third, if the First Amendment is the foundation of the entire Bill of Rights, then this First Freedom, the Freedom of Religion, is the cornerstone of the First Amendment.

Fourth, in recent years there has been a growing voice suggesting that freedom of religion should actually mean freedom FROM religion.  If this should become the true interpretation of this longest clause of the First Amendment, then it would naturally hold true that there should be no free press, no freedom to peaceably assemble, and no freedom to petition the government for redress of grievances.  Let that sink in.  Is it already happening?

Fifth and finally, the five freedoms in the First Amendment are actually manifestations of an even more important freedom.  These five freedoms are an expression of this one very basic freedom: The Freedom of Conscience.  It is the freedom to choose.  It is the freedom to believe.  Or to not believe.  It is the freedom to succeed or fail.  It is the freedom to be.  And that is my defining moment which took over 45 years to come to fruition.

I believe we all have defining moments in our lives. Those moments mold and shape us into the person we become. While some of those defining moments point in the same direction, not all of them do. There are contradictions. Step-by-step though, those defining moments help make us who we are.

#DefiningMomentsMondaygtalley

KATY Trail Bike Ride

2018 Katy Trail Journal

Day 1, June 11, 2018

Megan and I managed to get on the Katy Trail by 7:20 a.m., in Clinton Missouri.  The first few miles are relatively level, though as we traveled northeast on the trail, we encountered several hills.  Though the hills were probably no more than a one-percent grade, they were often over a half-mile long and some were at least a mile long.

We picked early June for our ride - probably not the best time of year to complete a bicycle ride in Missouri.  Hydration was key as temperatures approached 100 degrees.  The humidity had to be nearly as high as the temperature.

Our first stop was in Windsor, Missouri, about 16 miles in on the trail from Clinton.  A Casey’s convenience store is located across the trail from the trailhead.  In addition to the “station” at Windsor, a restroom is located at the trailhead.

Our next stop was at Calhoun, just a few miles down the trail.  Calhoun was nick-named Jug Town in the early 1900s, not for bootleg whiskey, but for the ceramic jugs that were manufactured here and shipped all over the country.

While there were a number of solo riders who appeared to be riding as a form of serious exercise, we encountered others whose fitness level was like ours and whose riding goals were similar to ours.  Among those we met was a man from New Zeeland who began his bike ride in Washington, D.C., and was riding to Colorado.  Joe, a local resident, rides 20 miles on the Katy Trail nearly every day.

You can see wildlife along the trail if you look closely, or in the case of squirrels, if you get out of their way and they don’t run into your bike while they are trying to cross the road.  We saw two box turtles, two small black snakes, rabbits, cardinals, blue jays, and little salamanders.  The salamanders tend to be found on bridges crossing small creeks and streams.

We ended our first day’s ride at Katy Park in Sedalia.  It is situated on the outskirts of town, and though it is not a designated trailhead, there are large shade trees and picnic tables at the park.  There were no restrooms near the area where we stopped, but since it is a public park there is bound to be a restroom nearby.

The rail trail does not go all the way through Sedalia, so a purist riding end-to-end would have to travel on city streets and country roads to continue riding on the trail on the northeast side of town.

Day 2, June 12, 2018

We began our ride on Tuesday northeast of Sedalia.  As the trail is not completed all the way through Sedalia we chose to begin at this point rather than riding through the streets of town.

Google Maps shows the first nine miles or so to be downhill all the way From Sedalia to Clifton City.  If it was downhill it sure didn’t feel like it; although those first nine miles felt much easier than the following 24 miles.

Nearly all the trail is under a canopy of trees, which helps with the heat as it feels like the temperature could be ten degrees cooler in the shade than out in the sun.  Like Monday, we saw turtles and rabbits and squirrels, cardinals and blue jays.  We even saw a lizard-like animal that had to be 10 - 12 inches long.

The trail definitely has an international flavor to it attracting people from all over.  You would think that since it is in Missouri that there would be more people from Missouri riding it.  That may be the case, but the people we talked to came from all parts of the world.

When we stopped for a long break in Clifton City, two young adults rode to the trailhead shortly after we arrived.  The two South Koreans said that they were students at Columbia.  While we were at the trailhead they shared hard-boiled eggs with us and we passed on some trail mix to them.  After joint selfies and a few other pictures, we took off for what would be another 12 grueling miles of uphill bike riding.  It was during this part of the ride that Sharon and Karen, twins from California) caught up with us.  We had met one of them earlier before we got to Clifton City when I had stopped to remove a tree from across the road.  We also met the father and son team of Lance and Cooper from Tulsa, Oklahoma.  Cooper is eleven-years old and was moving along at a decent clip.

There is plenty to see along the trail if you look around.  Though the trail is under a canopy of trees from Clinton to Boonville, there are breaks here and there that allow you to see the countryside.  There are beautiful fields of hay, corn, and beans that seem to stretch forever.  There are also remnants of the old rail line that help carry you back to a time in the past when this part of the country was experiencing growth and prosperity.

Northeast of Clifton City you run into a feature that is repeated a few times.  There are cuts through the rocks that must have taken days to cut through when the rail line was first being made.  Though I am sure that dynamite was used to blast through the hills, it must have taken weeks to blast it all out and move debris out of the way.  Likewise, the trail in several places is elevated several feet above the countryside, meaning that dirt and rocks had to be hauled in to create the rail line.  I can almost picture in my mind the horse-drawn scrapers that were used to clear the earth, the men with huge saws cutting down thousands of trees, and hundreds of men with picks and shovels either digging out the earth that was too high or filling earth in where it was too low to create one or two percent grades.  It had to be back-breaking work, not to mention hot and miserable in the summer and freezing cold in the winter all the while fighting off rain, snow, and hail.  It could not have been a fun experience.

Day 3, June 13, 2018

Our ride began today in Boonville and ended in North Jefferson City, about 50 miles away.  Because of a few logistical concerns, we parked Megan’s car at the Boonville trailhead and left it there through the day.  After our ride, we returned to Boonville to get her car and bring it back to Columbia where we used the Comfort Suites as our home base for the duration of our journey.

Other than enduring some rather long stretches along the trail, especially toward the end of the day, the most difficult part of the ride was at the beginning when we left Boonville and had to climb several feet up to the bridge crossing the Missouri River.  Thereafter, the trail was relatively flat or slightly uphill to Franklin and New Franklin.

There were a few roadside restaurants along the way - very few.  One of the most notable was at Cooper’s Landing.  Other services were very sparse, though a few trailheads had running water and flush toilets.

The scenery along the first portion of the 48.3-mile ride was in fairly stark contrast to the previous 70 miles we had ridden in that it was mainly flat or slightly downhill, though there were a few slight uphill grades.  Often, the Missouri River side of the trail was open to view farmers’ fields of corn and beans.  We had frequent views of the swift-moving, wide Missouri River, which is the longest river system in the United States.

It did not take us long to find wildlife along the trail.  Aside from the rabbits, squirrels, and birds, the first sign of wildlife was a copperhead snake.  It was about 18 inches long, and of course it was on Megan’s side of the trail.  I knew instantly what kind of snake it was when I saw it.  We briefly stopped so I could get a picture of it, from a fair distance for sure.

Much later in the day we came across a couple of deer and a fawn.  We stopped several yards away from them when we first saw them, and they stayed on the trail for a minute or two before they darted into the woods.

We had heard about the tunnel outside of Rocheport and were looking forward to seeing it.  We were not disappointed, especially when one considers the fact that it was built in the mid-1800s.  Black soot can still be seen on the roof of the tunnel from when the coal and wood fired steam locomotives passed through the tunnel.  A few miles down the trail to the east of Rocheport we saw the place that work crews had made to store explosives for the railroad construction.

Tall bluffs line the trail, which probably formed the northernmost banks of the Missouri River thousands of years ago.  There are caves in the bluffs that were used by pre-Columbian dwellers.  Though we did not see them, there are supposed to be hieroglyphics on some of the walls.

A natural arch can also be located along the trail.  It is the one feature on the trail that is identified by a sign; otherwise you would miss it as you ride along the trail

The Lewis and Clark expedition passed through this area along the Missouri River.  There are occasional signs that identify where they had stopped along the way.  There are at least two historic bridges closer to the Jefferson City end of the trail as you head east.

The day turned hotter than expected and though the northwest wind helped keep it cooler at the beginning of the ride, it was not especially helpful as we had to ride into it at the beginning of the day.  The temperature rose into the 90s during the day.  The heat literally drains everything from you as you travel along and at one point we simply stopped, rolled out plastic trash bags we had brought with us and stretched out in the shade of a black walnut tree and rested for 15 minutes.

Day Four, June 14, 2018

North Jefferson City to McKittrick

7:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.

Aside from the grueling heat, this day would be the easiest ride of the day.  It is mostly flat with very gentle uphill and downhill grades.  As we follow the flow of the river as we went from west to east (or north to south) it is mainly downhill.  As you go east on this section of a trail, it goes just enough south that the predominant west-southwest winds work against you.

There were only a handful of features to see along this stretch of rail trail.  Those are primarily farm lands, the Missouri River, and the small towns that you pass through on the journey.

The one thing that we enjoyed was seeing the small church buildings that seemed to be in each of the towns.  Some appeared to rundown, while others, obviously older, were well-maintained and quite beautiful.  From outside appearances, they appeared to be just large enough to have a sanctuary and maybe a couple of small rooms.

As we pulled into one town at 9:00 a.m. we heard church bells.  It was a pleasant welcoming sound and as we moved closer into town we saw where the sound was coming from - a beautiful, small church.

I’m sure that the area is teeming with wildlife, but aside from the blue jays, cardinals, and crows, we saw a single black snake, a ground hog, and a hawk.  Some of the people we met reported seeing deer in an area where we had just passed through and another individual reported seeing four copperhead snakes.

One of the information signs along the way reported that there are approximately 400,000 bicyclists a year who ride on the KATY Trail.  I would have thought that with that many people passing through that there would be more businesses along readily available along the trail.  Most of these town are small river towns, and of course with river traffic of the 1800s and early 1900s gone, it is understandable that these towns cannot support the nice service stations/convenience stores that we see along highways and in larger communities.  But, many of the towns appear to be dying a slow death and the only services available are small bars and grills, and these are sometimes a few blocks away from the trail.  At times, the trees and bushes are so thick that you cannot tell where the town actually is.

One town along the way where it was possible to see a bar and grill, Portland, served as a morale booster.  It was hot and humid and we were tired and melting.  There was only one cure for our state of being, and that was ice cream.  We trudged up the small hill to the Bar and Grill and found the freezer chest, reached inside and pulled out two ice cream bars.  Eight dollars later and we were enjoying ice-hard ice cream delights.  Yes, that was $8.00.  A sign on the door to the small business said that credit cards would not be accepted unless the customer could provide the PIN number.  In other words, they were not interested in credit card business, though we saw a couple of patrons using credit cards.

The good news is that the cost of the ice cream bars was offset by our surprise further down the road in Rhineland.  Again, it was hot and miserable, and there was need for a restroom.  The trail in Rhineland diverts from its original path here, crosses the highway, and runs through a small fairgrounds and ballfields.  Sitting under a large pavilion was a vending machine.  It took us a while to realize that it was actually working.  Anticipating a two- or three-dollar charge, I thought it was worth a chance.  I was surprised to see that the price for a 20-ounce beverage was only $1.00.  Let’s just say that it was the coldest, most refreshing dollar I’ve ever spent.

We encountered a few small groups of bicyclists from both directions on the trail.  A group of six from Tulsa and twins Sharon and Karen and their friend Jan seemed to play leapfrog with us along the way.  They were strong enough riders that they eventually left us.

As before, we saw signs posted showing where Lewis and Clark had camped along the river.  The other feature of interest was a lone boulder off to the side of the trail.  This Mystery Standing Rock as it is called, shows flood levels over the last century.  Keep in mind that this rock is a mile-and-a-half away from the river.

One of the things we read along the way was about the decision to build the railroad.  The route from St. Charles to Boonville is mostly flat and a railroad builders dream.  It is also in the flood plain of the Missouri River.  The risk was assumed and the railroad was built but built as far away from the river as possible, primarily against the bluffs that lined the trail the entire distance.  Apparently, the costs of maintaining the rail line outweighed its benefits and the passenger line was abandoned in 1958.  I assume that the freight use was abandoned at or near the same time.  The rail trail was created in 1993, 25 years before we began our journey on the KATY Trail.

The KATY Trail is actually the MKT line, which is formed from the first letters of states that it runs through - Missouri, Kansas, and Texas.  It was shortened to KT and took on the name Katy.

We ended our day at McKittrick where there is a trailhead and where we will begin the last leg of our trip to Defiance on Friday.

 Day 5, June 15,2018

We began our ride in McKittrick, Missouri, and ended in Defiance.  It was an hour’s drive to the starting trailhead from Columbia.  We managed to leave at 7:40 a.m.

Temperatures again reached into the mid- and upper 90s.  It was hot and humid most of the way, though the early morning part of our ride was in the upper 60s.

A severe storm, including at least one tornado passed through the area shortly after we left McKittrick yesterday.  As a result, we saw a few downed tree limbs.

Of the five days on the trail, this was probably the easiest day.  It was mostly flat or downhill.  The trail followed the Missouri a good part of the way as well.

There were very few outstanding features along the trail with the exception of the Daniel Boone Judgment Tree and river navigation signs.  And, as on other occasions, the closer we got to larger population areas, the more people we saw.

A highlight of the ride this day was a stop at a bicycle shop/ice cream store in Augusta.  We didn’t stop for bike repairs.  The ice cream was delicious and a welcome relief from the heat.  It was what I called a morale booster.

We saw the last of Jan, Sharon, and Karen in Augusta.  We had been tracking along with them for three of the five days on the trail.  Jan and Karen traded off driving their car while Sharon rode the entire distance of the rail trail.  Jan had told us of a rail trail in Wisconsin and other trails that could be of interest.  She also told us about the ice cream shot in Augusta.  Pop-a-Wheelies was a small little shop that was pretty big on hospitality.

Though this section of the trail was probably the easiest for us, it was also among the most challenging.  The heat and humidity were unbearable.  There were long stretches with no trees.  Those stretches appeared before us in the heat of the day.  It was during one of these open stretches that we saw two trees in the distance, both of which cast a little bit of shade onto the trail.  As we got closer to the trees, we could see that there was a house by the trees.  Our hearts sank as we didn’t want to be stopping on someone’s lawn.  We had just about given up hope when we saw that the second tree was actually putting out a little more shade on the trail than what was on the trail from the first tree.  Then, our spirits were lifted when we saw that a park bench had been placed just off the trail and under that second tree.  We took our break.

So many of the villages along the way would probably never justify being placed on a map.  In fact, they probably aren’t.  But, most of them had a name and their names were predominately displayed on white-on-green signs.  Such was the case with Nona, the single house with a shade tree and a park bench.  Nona, at one time had been a depot for the MKT (Missouri - Kansas - Texas Railroad).  The coal bin and water station are still standing at Nona.

Writing

I just finished publishing my third historical fiction.  Deception is a continuation of the story that began with Desperado and continued through Durango.  All three books are self-published.

I have another book that is under review for publication.  It is a historical fiction telling the story of the Mormon Battalion.  I previously submitted it to two different publishers (not at the same time).  Both publishers rejected it; however, the second publisher gave me encouragement by telling me that they would publish it except for the fact that it did not fit what they believe is their reader audience.  So, I found another publisher that has done books of a similar nature.  I would have approached this particular publisher first except I know they are inundated with manuscripts and they have their own authors under contract with them already.  While hopeful, I feel the odds of this publisher picking up the book is pretty slim.  I should find out in another two to four months if it will be accepted for publication.  If they reject it I don’t know what I’ll do.  I may just self-publish it as well.  We’ll see.

Anyone who thinks that writing is easy should try it out first before making a judgment call.  In a nutshell, it is work.  It is hard work.  I can only write a few hours at a time before I have to move away from the page.  Life tends to get in the way, too.  Even in retirement I find that the demands of life get in the way.  There is always something clamoring for attention.

Each of the three books has taken about a year to write from the time the first words hit the page until the completed words showed up in print.  Even then I’m not sure that those words were entirely ready for public view.  There are mistakes, typos, and misspellings that my friends haven’t caught and spell check certainly has missed.  Readers find them.  And they sometimes tell me.  And the ego is immediately deflated.

I said that writing is work.  Thank goodness that it isn’t my job.  I think that between the two books that have been available in print I have cleared $200 at the most.  If you count the 100 copies that I gave away to family and close friends, I’ve lost a ton of money.  But, as Susan says, I’m not doing it to make money.  I’m doing it as a hobby.  It has turned into an expensive hobby.

I am tempted to stick with short stories and essays like Friday Friends, Tender Mercies Tuesday, and Defining Moments Monday that I put up on Facebook.  People tell me privately that they like my writing, but it is so disappointing to see that they don’t take the time to hit the Like button on Facebook.  And I can tell how many people check out my blog.  There aren’t many, which makes me think that I should simply discontinue writing anything here.  But, here again, Susan says I do it as a hobby.

KATY Trail Bike Ride

My son, Ben Talley, and I are riding a section of the KATY Trail in Missouri.  The trail itself runs from Clinton to Machens, Missouri.  Machens is located just outside of St. Charles.  The entire length of the trail is something like 242 miles.  I had planned a family ride for later in June, but wanted to try the first section of the trail beforehand just to get an ideas as to what the trail was like.  The first section that we are doing appeared to be the hardest, which is why I chose it.  If I could do the first 75 miles, then the rest of the family should be able to do so as well.

We left the trail head in Clinton around 9:00 a.m. on Monday and arrived in Sedalia around 3:00 p.m.  We were tired and no worse for wear.  However, I fell asleep at 7:30 p.m. and woke up at 5:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning.  We hope to be on the trail again at 8:00 a.m.

Temperatures were in the 80s and humidity around 30-50%, that is until the heavens opened up and began pouring buckets of rain.  We just barely escaped the rain.  In fact, we may have encountered a few raindrops, but not many.

Honoring Women

Honoring Women

         It was sometime around the middle of my policing career when Sister Talley was doing the weekly family grocery shopping.  When she finished going through the checkout line she wrote a check for the amount of the groceries and handed it to the clerk.  The clerk, a young woman I had arrested a few years earlier for multiple felonies took a look at the check and asked her, “Oh, are you Mr. Talley’s wife?”  She must have asked in such a way as to suggest that I owned her or that Sister Talley was my possession as Susan responded by saying, “No, he’s my husband.”

         When Adam was alone in the Garden of Eden, God created a “help meet” for him (Gen. 2: 18; Moses 3: 18; Abraham 5: 14).  Eve, was to be more than a companion.  As a help meet, her role was more than that of being an assistant or a helper.  Much of the confusion of the role of women in society in general and specifically in marriage comes from a mistranslation of the words help meet.  Initially, it was believed that help meet was one word instead of two words and was also translated as helpmate (David Rolph Seely, assistant professor of ancient scripture, Brigham Young University).  The words help meet for him is translated in the Old Testament from the Hebrew and literally means help equal but opposite or corresponding to him.  The implications of this meaning are important.  Consider the wings of a bird.  They are identical, but the fact that they are opposite of each other allows it to fly.  The same is true with men and women. Both are equal but opposite thus enabling them to be complete and to act together in such a way that they would never be capable of doing alone (Bruce Satterfield, BYU-Idaho, The Family Under Siege: The Role of Men and Women).  

There is a huge difference between helpmate and help meet.  A helpmate mixes the mortar and carries the bricks for the brick mason.  A help meet is busy installing the heating and air conditioning.  A helpmate carries the shingles for the roofers while a help meet installs the electrical according to code.  A helpmate is an assistant following the directions of the boss.  A help meet is an equal partner and joint owner.  A helpmate may make the job a little easier but a help meet is essential.  Each contributes essential skills for building a complete “house.”  Two working together create a synergy where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

An example from the lives of Adam and Eve is helpful.  Faced with living in the Garden of Eden forever and never fulfilling the commandment to have posterity, it was Eve who reasoned with Adam to take a leap of faith; to do that which would lead to their departure from the Garden so that we, their posterity may experience this mortal probationary period.  “(B)ehold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.  Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy” (2 Nephi 2: 24 – 25).

Truly, women are the balance to the lives of men.  Equally true however, is that men can be said to be the balance to the lives of women.  Both fill equally important yet opposite and complimentary roles in the Plan of Redemption.  Said the Apostle Paul, “neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without the man, in the Lord.  For as the woman is of the man, even so is the man also by the woman….” (1 Cor. 11: 11 - 12).  As President Spencer W. Kimball taught, the term man in the story of the Creation refers to “a complete man, which is husband and wife.” (Ensign, Mar. 1976, p. 71.)

President Kimball’s teaching leads me to believe that when considered in its proper context, the word help in the words help meet clearly is not to be confused with someone who just helps to get the job done when the job can be done without the helper.  To fully understand the role of a help meet it is useful to know that the word help in the Old Testament is translated from the Hebrew meaning strength or savior.

Is it any wonder that we should honor women?  Is it any wonder why President Nelson said to men that our first priority in honoring the priesthood is to honor our eternal companion?

There are eight purposes of the Aaronic Priesthood, five of which deal with actions Aaronic Priesthood holders should take for the future, such as becoming converted to the gospel, obtaining as much education as possible and preparing to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, serving an honorable full-time mission, and becoming a worthy husband and father.  These purposes are all about becoming.  The other three purposes deal with the present.  Those holding that priesthood are to faithfully serve in their callings, render service to others, and to give “proper respect to women, girls, and children.”  I might add that the purposes of the Melchizedek Priesthood simply build on those of the Aaronic Priesthood.

Respect is something that seems to be in short supply these days.  One only needs to spend a few minutes on social media to affirm that conclusion.  But it isn’t only in social media where we see an overall lack of respect.  You see it on the road, in the classroom, in the workplace, against those in positions of authority, and those who are weak, humble, and the poor among us.  Unfortunately, disrespect toward women occurs not only from men, but also from other women.  This must grieve the Savior and Heavenly Father, especially as we are speaking of His daughters and the mothers in Zion.

The statement in the Young Women Theme that they are daughters of their Heavenly Father who loves them, and whose values include faith, divine nature, individual worth, integrity, and virtue is more than a mere recitation of words but stands as an eternal truth.  And that truth does not diminish or dissolve when a young woman becomes an adult and enters Relief Society.  Indeed, our mothers, sisters, daughters, wives, aunts, and all our sisters in or outside of the gospel are beloved daughters of Heavenly Father.  As such, they should be treated with honor, dignity, and respect.

The word respect comes from the Latin respectus, which is the act of looking back with regard and consideration.  To respect a person is to hold that person in high esteem or regard.  We show reverence and devotion to those we respect.  We treat those we respect with dignity and distinction.  Those we respect are often exalted in our own minds. 

Sometimes it takes courage to stand for truth and righteousness.  Sometimes it takes courage to stand up for the honor of our sisters.  Such an occasion happened years ago when Sister Talley was a young girl.  Her father had stopped at a business where there was a group of young men hanging around outside telling filthy stories and using vile and profane language.  Honoring his daughter, her father approached the young men, rebuked them for their language, and informed them that they were in the presence of a lady.  Now, he didn’t know what kind of reaction he would receive from these young men.  They could have taunted him, mocked him, or even jumped him, but it didn’t matter to him how they would react.  While he hoped they would grant his request, what mattered most to him was the defense of the honor of his daughter.

Of course, the best example we have of the way we should regard women comes to us from the Savior.  We know from the scriptures that He defended women and was sympathetic and showed compassion toward them.  In the Gospel of Luke, we saw the Savior as He entered the city of Naim.  There, He saw the body young man being carried away for burial.  The mother, a widow was following along, obviously distraught at the loss of her only son.  Upon seeing her, the Savior “had compassion on her, and said unto her, weep not.”  He then raised the woman’s son from the dead (Luke 7: 11-17).

Women held a subordinate position to men at the time of Christ, though it is interesting to note that we see mention of women, identified by name, who followed Christ as He preached and who were present during His crucifixion.  From those passages of scripture, we can surmise that Jesus considered women to be on an equal basis with men.  He condemned those who took away the houses of widows (Mark 12: 40).  He spoke with kindness as He reminded a group of followers of the time when Elias was sent only to the home of a widow during a time of famine (Luke 4: 26) and He made particular reference to the poor widow, who, with her two mites, placed more into the treasury than others who had given from their abundance.

Then there is the story of the woman who was taken in sin and was about to be stoned to death.  This penalty was grounded in an old mistaken tradition that identified women as temptresses. This stems from the time when Eve first partook of the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden and then showed Adam the wisdom in also partaking of that fruit.  Eve was considered by many to have enticed or tempted Adam to partake of the fruit when this was not the case at all.  Nonetheless, men were seen as victims and women were viewed as aggressors.  Jesus intervened in the stoning of this woman and taught us two great lessons.  First, in telling the crowd of men that he who was without sin should cast the first stone reminds us that we are all sinners.  Secondly, in this intervention He taught that there is a single standard for men and women in obedience to the commandments.  “All are alike unto God” (2 Nephi 26:33).

His reverence toward women is further evidenced in His Sermon on the Mount.  Not only did He rebuke men for looking upon women with lust as it drove the Spirit away from them, but also because it was offensive to women and doing so regarded them as property or chattel for men to do with as they pleased. 

I am unaware of any particular list of rules for honoring women.  If there is such a list, I am certain that it would lead off with words like kindness, gentleness, meekness, pure knowledge, with charity, virtuous thoughts, and love unfeigned (D&C 121: 41 – 42).  These are the ways we show respect to all women.  It is my prayer that we always remember that all our sisters are daughters of Heavenly Father, queens and princesses in His kingdom.  Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The NRA: They May Not be Who You Think They Are

I attended the 2018 NRA Convention in Dallas.  I was invited to attend by Bill Rogers to come as a member of the press.  As the owner of American Outdoorsman that appears on TV, he had access to the convention on a day that had limited numbers of people on the exhibition floor.  Still, there were thousands of people milling around looking at firearms and firearms related products. 

I have never seen so many dealers of firearms, ammunition, optics, clothing, footwear, training materials and props, and firearms safety devices in my life.  I have attended a few gun shows in my time, but this show was bigger than all of them combined.  The exhibition floor was easily longer and wider than a football field and filled beyond capacity.  There were exhibits outside the floor in hallways.  Suggesting that it was huge is an understatement.

All the big names were there like Smith and Wesson, Remington, Springfield, Colt, Glock, H&K, Bass Pro Shop and Cabela’s, Olin, Beretta, Aim Point, and so on, but the hundreds of entrepreneurs were there as well.  These were businesses you most likely have never heard of like American Tactical, Propper International, Vault Pro, Viktos, Shiloh Rifle, or Cool Fire.  There were hundreds of small businesses that recognized the need to fill a small niche and came up with a product to fill that niche.

There was one thing missing from the convention floor.  There were no loudmouth, obnoxious zealots.  There were no chest pounding, finger pointing radicals anywhere to be seen or heard.  Everywhere I went I ran into quiet, humble, rational men and women proud of who they are and what they do.  If you were to exchange the guns and ammo on the floor for blenders and toasters, you would mistake the vendors and shoppers for pacifists. 

And there were patriots present.  An interesting thing happened on Saturday at the convention.  A performer was singing the National Anthem and as she sang, the sound system went out.  Without missing a cue, 20,000 members of the NRA spontaneously began singing the National Anthem.  Chills ran up and down my spine.

The most radical vendor I saw at the convention was a business named 1791 Gun Leather (1791 is the year of the ratification of the Bill of Rights, including Amendment II).  The most radical article of clothing I saw was a T-shirt that had the letters FBINA - FBI National Academy.  We stopped and visited with each other for several minutes.  He was a member of the 176th Session of the Academy; I was a member of the 136th Session.

I have avoided joining the NRA for several years, but that changed recently.  I confess.  I joined the NRA because of David Hogg.  It turns out that I was not the only one.  The NRA experienced one of its largest membership surges in history following the denouncement of the NRA by Mr. Hogg and others.  Mr. Hogg was good for the business of the NRA.

The point is that this exhibition was filled with people just like you and me.  If it wasn’t for the fact that they were attending the NRA Convention, you would never have known they were remotely associated with the NRA.  These are not the cold-blooded murderers and their accomplices that gun control advocates believe them to be.  These are hard-working Americans.  You can call the vendors people making a living off of fear of others all you want.  That isn’t what I saw.  What I saw were people interested in safety, security, and filling a niche.  I have seen some of the liberal press coverage of the NRA Convention and what I saw was nothing like what they portrayed it to be.

No doubt that the crowds were worked into a frenzy at the conference sessions, but I know what walked out of those sessions.  They are the same people who walked in.  They are the same calm, rational men and women they have always been.  They are the same people they were prior to the conference - men and women who are interested in safety, security, protection of the Second Amendment, protection of their families and their own lives, and the right to hunt or engage in target shooting and anything else you can think of other than killing people.  And yes, they are the people who want to protect and preserve not just the Second Amendment, but ALL amendments to the Constitution and the very fiber of the Constitution itself.

I’m glad I went to the convention and I’m glad I joined the NRA.

Tom Brokaw and Me Too

Tom Brokaw is the latest celebrity to be named as a sexual deviate, accused of sexual misconduct and harassment. I liked Brokaw as a journalist. I respected him. I have not always agreed with his opinions, but I respected him. I never thought of him as being blood-thirsty as we see many so-called journalists today.

I want to believe him. I want to believe he is innocent in this Me Too house-cleaning era. He says he has made mistakes and that he is not perfect, but flatly denies allegations against him.

I have seen before the results of frenzied movements such as Me Too. Innocent people get hurt. Reputations are ruined. Careers are trashed. Records are blemished. And it only takes one false accusation. Personally, I have seen “victims” recant accusations, yet the damage had already been done and no matter how many back-page retractions have been made, the dark cloud of suspicion remains over the innocent once accused. If you have ever been accused of a wrong-doing or a crime that you didn’t commit and were later vindicated, you’ll understand what I mean.

Without a doubt, powerful men have made foolish choices and they should be held accountable for those actions and the hurts they’ve inflicted. I wonder how many innocent men are being caught up in the Me Too movement by women who are trying to exercise a little power of their own at the expense of truth.

Tom Brokaw, please be innocent of the accusations.