Thursday, August 27 – Monday, August 31, 2009
This edition of the journal/blog was written a little differently than normal. For the first time in three years, we were apart for five days as we journeyed to different places for funerals. Even though we would have much preferred going to both services together, time and circumstances prevented that from being possible, so we represented each other at both places, Barbara at the funeral of Glenn Taylor, husband of her good friend Dandy Heasley Taylor in Abilene, Texas, and me at the graveside service of my old college and band directing friend Lynn Burton in Tucumcari, New Mexico and a subsequent memorial service in Lubbock, Texas.
So here you have it---two points of view on a very different week.
Thursday, August 27
Barbara: Once Jim and I were up and ginning around at Edith’s this morning, he rode the cycle and I drove the Vibe to fill up their tanks. Then it was over to TJ’s to leave the cycle since once they left the doctor’s office in Tyler, they would go straight to TJ’s as Edith would be staying with her while we were gone.
Jim and I spent our last few minutes together with a necessary Sonic stop and then a quick run to the post office.
After helping Edith get dressed, I kissed everyone off and headed off to Abilene. It was such a strange feeling for several reasons…
First, I was alone in the car! Secondly, I haven’t driven that far in over 3 years! Let’s face it, since we’ve retired, Jim and I have been joined at the hip so to speak…yes, we each get away from the other occasionally, but to know that for 5 days we’re on our own is a different feeling. Of course, if we’re both honest, we’d probably admit that though we wouldn’t want this to become a habit…it is kind of nice to be independent and not think of pleasing the other.
Very uneventful trip…made it safely to Abilene by early afternoon which meant that I had time to hunt for Dandy’s house and take by the card and DQ card we had bought for her. Okay, I know that that doesn’t really sound like something that belongs in a sympathy card, but I do know from firsthand experience that the last thing one thinks of at a time like this is fixing a meal. So, it has become our habit to include some kind of “food” card so that eating is made easier. However, we are bright enough to know that this isn’t something that one is given at visitation for the obvious reason that some might think it’s inappropriate. My, how I am rattling…you can tell I have all the time in the world to write, huh?
Anyway, back to Abilene…I found Dandy aka Janet’s house and after a huge, comforting hug for both of us, I was honored to meet Dandy’s and Glenn’s daughters and their families. Like us, Dandy and Glenn have a blended family, but I was impressed at how she handled this in the obit…Glenn was survived by one daughter, Lori, and one “daughter- in-love”, Kelly. Isn’t that too cool! That’s how Dandy introduced the girls to me, too.
I didn’t stay long as I knew Dandy needed to rest up for the visitation in a couple of hours. I had intended to go around 6:30 since I had already seen her, but I was too restless and lonely in the motel room; so about 5ish I headed for the funeral home. I returned around 6:15 and decided to call it a night.
Now the reason I mention all of this is because at 6:45 a storm of all storms hit Abilene…the winds were 60 miles an hour, blowing down power lines and a news station’s satellite dish…then the rains came…it was scary! But, since I was talking to Jim on the phone, (don’t think he’s ever as impressed with a storm as I am) I was okay. The point of adding the storm to the journal is this…IF I had waited until 6:30 to go to the visitation; I would have been caught out in that storm. God does take care of fools!
Jim: After seeing Barbara off to Abilene, T.J., Mother, and I drove to Tyler for Mother’s follow-up appointment with Dr. Camp. We left a little early, hoping against hope that we might get finished early and get back to Mineola in time for me to leave on the motorcycle by shortly after noon.
As we entered the waiting room, it was evident that our hoping was in vain; we took the last of the chairs (and there were quite a few) and watched as nearly every person in the room was called ahead of us…even those who came in much later than we did.
We had a 10:00 am appointment for Dr. Camp and an 11:00 am appointment to talk to the rehab folks, but weren’t even called into a room to wait for Dr. Camp until 11:00…so much for schedules. When Dr. Camp arrived, he talked with Mother for a bit, put some bandages over the place where the stitches had been removed, and pronounced Mother fit to begin rehab exercises as soon as she was fitted for a splint.
At 11:30 we went across the building to the rehab center and met with the young man who fashioned a brace for Mother’s right hand, fitted it to her, and then gave her instructions on exercises for strengthening the fingers and tendon.
It was well after 1:00 when we got back to Mineola and get Mother settled in at T.J.’s house for the afternoon and evening. T.J. fixed some sandwiches for us and after eating, I said my goodbyes, hopped on the cycle, and started my adventure.
There’s not a whole lot to say about the trip today except that it was fun to be out and flying down the highway, even though most of it was highway that I have almost memorized…U.S. 69 North from Mineola to Bells, where I turned west on U.S. 82 to Gainesville for my first refueling stop. I called Barbara to let her know where I was and said that I would probably stop on the western edge of Wichita Falls for the night.
I left Gainesville and continued west on 82 to Henrietta where 82 joined U.S. 287. I had a little excitement for a few miles there when I had to ride between two thunderstorms and some gusty winds for about 15 minutes, but by the time I got to Wichita Falls, the weather had pretty well cleared and I had what wind there was at my back.
I thought Wichita Falls was too early to stop, so I continued on 287 to Iowa Park where I figured I could find something suitable; but when I got there, I saw a sign for a Super 8 Motel just 45 miles away at Vernon and decided I would shoot for that. Vernon would put me beyond the halfway point between Mineola and Tucumcari and would allow for a relatively easy trip tomorrow.
There was plenty of room at the Super 8, so I checked in and carried my gear to the room and then called Barbara to let her know where I was.
When I went out to find something to eat, I remembered that Tom Scott, a special education teacher and a wrestling coach at Liberal when we were there, had moved to Vernon several years ago. I checked the district’s website to see if Tom was still listed. I saw his name, but there was no way to contact him except through email, so I called Leah in Liberal and asked her to give me Chris Perkins’ phone number. When I finally got Chris on the line, we talked a bit and then he gave me a couple of numbers for Tom.
I called the numbers and left a message. I figured that Tom was
probably coaching a wrestling match somewhere, but he called back later in the evening and said he was headed my direction.
Tom got to my room, explained that he had been supervising a freshman football game, and had caught my message on his way home. He said that he rarely gets messages on his cell, and that he was very surprised, but happy to hear from me.
We spent a couple of hours traveling down memory lane and catching up on each other’s lives during the past three years. Since we both started teaching at Liberal at the same time, we had a lot of reminiscing to do, and it was also good to hear that he is doing so well at Vernon, teaching special education at the middle school and coaching wrestling at the high school.
Both of us had early starts planned for tomorrow morning, so we had to cut off the visit. Tom left and went home and I called Barbara to say good night before I went to sleep.
Friday, August 28
This edition of the journal/blog was written a little differently than normal. For the first time in three years, we were apart for five days as we journeyed to different places for funerals. Even though we would have much preferred going to both services together, time and circumstances prevented that from being possible, so we represented each other at both places, Barbara at the funeral of Glenn Taylor, husband of her good friend Dandy Heasley Taylor in Abilene, Texas, and me at the graveside service of my old college and band directing friend Lynn Burton in Tucumcari, New Mexico and a subsequent memorial service in Lubbock, Texas.
So here you have it---two points of view on a very different week.
Thursday, August 27
Barbara: Once Jim and I were up and ginning around at Edith’s this morning, he rode the cycle and I drove the Vibe to fill up their tanks. Then it was over to TJ’s to leave the cycle since once they left the doctor’s office in Tyler, they would go straight to TJ’s as Edith would be staying with her while we were gone.
Jim and I spent our last few minutes together with a necessary Sonic stop and then a quick run to the post office.
After helping Edith get dressed, I kissed everyone off and headed off to Abilene. It was such a strange feeling for several reasons…
First, I was alone in the car! Secondly, I haven’t driven that far in over 3 years! Let’s face it, since we’ve retired, Jim and I have been joined at the hip so to speak…yes, we each get away from the other occasionally, but to know that for 5 days we’re on our own is a different feeling. Of course, if we’re both honest, we’d probably admit that though we wouldn’t want this to become a habit…it is kind of nice to be independent and not think of pleasing the other.
Very uneventful trip…made it safely to Abilene by early afternoon which meant that I had time to hunt for Dandy’s house and take by the card and DQ card we had bought for her. Okay, I know that that doesn’t really sound like something that belongs in a sympathy card, but I do know from firsthand experience that the last thing one thinks of at a time like this is fixing a meal. So, it has become our habit to include some kind of “food” card so that eating is made easier. However, we are bright enough to know that this isn’t something that one is given at visitation for the obvious reason that some might think it’s inappropriate. My, how I am rattling…you can tell I have all the time in the world to write, huh?
Anyway, back to Abilene…I found Dandy aka Janet’s house and after a huge, comforting hug for both of us, I was honored to meet Dandy’s and Glenn’s daughters and their families. Like us, Dandy and Glenn have a blended family, but I was impressed at how she handled this in the obit…Glenn was survived by one daughter, Lori, and one “daughter- in-love”, Kelly. Isn’t that too cool! That’s how Dandy introduced the girls to me, too.
I didn’t stay long as I knew Dandy needed to rest up for the visitation in a couple of hours. I had intended to go around 6:30 since I had already seen her, but I was too restless and lonely in the motel room; so about 5ish I headed for the funeral home. I returned around 6:15 and decided to call it a night.
Now the reason I mention all of this is because at 6:45 a storm of all storms hit Abilene…the winds were 60 miles an hour, blowing down power lines and a news station’s satellite dish…then the rains came…it was scary! But, since I was talking to Jim on the phone, (don’t think he’s ever as impressed with a storm as I am) I was okay. The point of adding the storm to the journal is this…IF I had waited until 6:30 to go to the visitation; I would have been caught out in that storm. God does take care of fools!
Jim: After seeing Barbara off to Abilene, T.J., Mother, and I drove to Tyler for Mother’s follow-up appointment with Dr. Camp. We left a little early, hoping against hope that we might get finished early and get back to Mineola in time for me to leave on the motorcycle by shortly after noon.As we entered the waiting room, it was evident that our hoping was in vain; we took the last of the chairs (and there were quite a few) and watched as nearly every person in the room was called ahead of us…even those who came in much later than we did.
We had a 10:00 am appointment for Dr. Camp and an 11:00 am appointment to talk to the rehab folks, but weren’t even called into a room to wait for Dr. Camp until 11:00…so much for schedules. When Dr. Camp arrived, he talked with Mother for a bit, put some bandages over the place where the stitches had been removed, and pronounced Mother fit to begin rehab exercises as soon as she was fitted for a splint.
At 11:30 we went across the building to the rehab center and met with the young man who fashioned a brace for Mother’s right hand, fitted it to her, and then gave her instructions on exercises for strengthening the fingers and tendon.
It was well after 1:00 when we got back to Mineola and get Mother settled in at T.J.’s house for the afternoon and evening. T.J. fixed some sandwiches for us and after eating, I said my goodbyes, hopped on the cycle, and started my adventure.
There’s not a whole lot to say about the trip today except that it was fun to be out and flying down the highway, even though most of it was highway that I have almost memorized…U.S. 69 North from Mineola to Bells, where I turned west on U.S. 82 to Gainesville for my first refueling stop. I called Barbara to let her know where I was and said that I would probably stop on the western edge of Wichita Falls for the night.
I left Gainesville and continued west on 82 to Henrietta where 82 joined U.S. 287. I had a little excitement for a few miles there when I had to ride between two thunderstorms and some gusty winds for about 15 minutes, but by the time I got to Wichita Falls, the weather had pretty well cleared and I had what wind there was at my back.
I thought Wichita Falls was too early to stop, so I continued on 287 to Iowa Park where I figured I could find something suitable; but when I got there, I saw a sign for a Super 8 Motel just 45 miles away at Vernon and decided I would shoot for that. Vernon would put me beyond the halfway point between Mineola and Tucumcari and would allow for a relatively easy trip tomorrow.
There was plenty of room at the Super 8, so I checked in and carried my gear to the room and then called Barbara to let her know where I was.
When I went out to find something to eat, I remembered that Tom Scott, a special education teacher and a wrestling coach at Liberal when we were there, had moved to Vernon several years ago. I checked the district’s website to see if Tom was still listed. I saw his name, but there was no way to contact him except through email, so I called Leah in Liberal and asked her to give me Chris Perkins’ phone number. When I finally got Chris on the line, we talked a bit and then he gave me a couple of numbers for Tom.
I called the numbers and left a message. I figured that Tom was
probably coaching a wrestling match somewhere, but he called back later in the evening and said he was headed my direction.Tom got to my room, explained that he had been supervising a freshman football game, and had caught my message on his way home. He said that he rarely gets messages on his cell, and that he was very surprised, but happy to hear from me.
We spent a couple of hours traveling down memory lane and catching up on each other’s lives during the past three years. Since we both started teaching at Liberal at the same time, we had a lot of reminiscing to do, and it was also good to hear that he is doing so well at Vernon, teaching special education at the middle school and coaching wrestling at the high school.
Both of us had early starts planned for tomorrow morning, so we had to cut off the visit. Tom left and went home and I called Barbara to say good night before I went to sleep.
Friday, August 28
Barbara: As usual, I was up and ready to go way too early! Therefore, I decided to take a walk (or should I say “ride”) down memory lane…
First stop…McMurry University (which back in the old days when I attended and graduated from there was McMurry College) Can you believe it…in the 43 years since I was a freshman, the campus has certainly changed! In fact, my first dorm where I met Carolyn Seago Risse (the friend we just saw in MN) President’s Dorm is now called the Presidential Dorm according to a young man I stopped, and it’s a boys’ dorm! I wanted a picture of the old house that Carolyn and I lived in with some other girls and a house mother, but all that’s left of it is the driveway! The only other two structures I recognized were the administration building where I worked my freshman and sophomore years in the registrar’s office. The chapel is still a mighty presence as one enters the campus though I do think it’s been added to.
Next stop was to 1657 Beech where my first husband Henry was raised and his parents lived for many, many years as the boys and Leah were growing up. (Bottom right photo of above collage) It didn’t take me long to realize that not all change is necessarily for the better and this was certainly one negative. I had to take the photo from the moving car as it definitely would not be safe for me to stop or to get out of the car. This once quiet, homey, middle class neighborhood no longer exists.The final photo was of the old high school that Henry attended. (Bottom left photo of collage above) Just a little history for the grandkids…
These steps through the past kept me busy and now it was time to attend Glenn’s funeral. What a wonderful job their pastor did of making the entire service, sermon included, relate to Glenn and Dandy!
Glenn had served 9 years in the Navy and then finished his 20 year military career in the Air Force; so his graveside service included the full military honor which was quite impressive.
Back at the church for the lunch, Dandy and I had a little time to visit before I needed to start the trip back to Mineola and Edith.
Now, I don’t know who, besides Jim, had me covered in prayer for this journey; but I’m alive today to tell you that prayer works and I am so grateful!
Everything was quite normal until 3:15 while I was on I-20 in the Fort Worth area. Then, my normal trip turned into a near nightmare as a Fed Ex truck decided to take over the lane I was in. Anyone who has driven this highway knows that from at least 3:00-6:00, every lane is occupied by moving vehicles and this day was no different. I had no time or space to react except to honk my horn and say a quick please, Lord…Thankfully, the driv
er swerved back into his lane in time…though I could have reached out and helped push him over! Not thinking too much of this (haven’t we all been guilty of that?) except gratitude, I slowed down a little…signaled him that he could now come over…he didn’t…so I sped up and as I passed him, I saw that he was talking on his cell phone. Now my blood began to boil! Later, still chatting away, he did get in front of me and I memorized his license plate and truck number. Fed Ex would be receiving a call from me.Okay, finally calmed down, now I’m in Dallas…still on I-20 (it takes forever to get through the Ft. Worth/Dallas area!)…Everything is cool…then WHAM!!!! I jumped, but no time to look around…then it sounded like a machine gun was hitting my car…finally looked and saw the funniest sight, if it hadn’t been so dangerous. I was being pelted by an old ratty truck that had a baby mattress stuck on its undercarriage. The mattress was sweeping up rocks, gravel, etc. and throwing them at me and anyone else around. As soon as I could, which wasn’t soon enough in my books, I got away from him! Would you believe it though…there is no damage to the car except where we had a small crack, it how has a pitted indention…Co-incidence? Luck? I choose to believe that once again those prayers were working and God was in control. So…thanks to anyone who lifted Jim and me and our travels up to the Lord.
As a side note, it was while driving through Dallas/Fort Worth (don’t remember the exact spot) that the Vibe hit the 100,000 mile mark on the odometer…lots of miles in only 4 ½ years!
Suffice it to say, I was in bed by 8:00 pm…grateful that this day was over!
Jim: Thankfully, I had ridden far enough yesterday that I didn’t have to get up at daybreak. I got cleaned up and went to the breakfast room for cereal, an English muffin, and coffee. I intended to return to the room to eat, but a couple who was returning to Fort Worth from a visit to Colorado invited me to sit and visit with them.
I returned to the room, called Barbara to let her know I was packing and getting ready to leave. We said our morning prayer over the phone and then I headed out.
Since I had fueled the cycle last night, I just pulled up on 287 and headed toward Amarillo, stopping for a rest break and to check my email (you have to love those Texas rest areas…beautiful sites and great wireless internet service). I called Barbara and left a message, then continued the journey toward Amarillo.
When I got almost to Amarillo, I did my own “memory lane” bit. In July of 1966, following USAF basic training at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, I was assigned as a trumpet player with the 589th USAF Band at Amarillo AFB. The air force began closing out the base toward the end of 1967 and we were transferred to MacDill AFB in Tampa, Florida, but the old Amarillo AFB still holds special memories.
Since the highway took me right past the north gate to the old base (now an industrial complex and public housing project), I decided to ride through it to see if anything was left of what had been there before.
What I found was almost nothing of the old base. A few of the very large buildings and hangars are still there and are part of the support system for a couple of colleges that have facilities on the property. The band barracks, along with all the dormitories and mess halls have been demolished and hauled away. In fact, the roads that ran past our barracks don’t even exist now. I remembered the approximate location of our building (offices an
d dayroom downstairs and dorm rooms and rehearsal hall upstairs) because of its proximity to a couple of water towers that are still standing, but the rest of Amarillo AFB is just a long ago memory.I left the base through the old north gate and got on I-40 West to head on through Amarillo…stopped on the west side of the city to refuel the cycle and me, and then continued my journey to Tucumcari.
I arrived at the KOA park in Tucumcari around 1:30 and found our friends, Bob and Teresa Stevens, who had invited me to stay with them in their fifth wheel for the night. We visited a bit and then I went to the bathhouse to clean up and get dressed for Lynn Burton’s graveside service.
Later, we were joined by Bob Murphy and his wife, Spencer, from Gallup. I had not seen Bob and Spencer since our graduation from ENMU in 1966. We had a lot of
catching up to do and a very short time to do it, but we did give it the old college try.
We went to the cemetery at 3:00 and began meeting and greeting others as th
ey trickled in. We were pleased to see another ENMU music friend and retired band director, Jim Barnard and his wife Janet, who had driven up from Clovis to say farewell to Lynn.
Soon, it was time to begin the service and the two Jims, two Bobs, and a couple more of Lynn’s friends took our places at the rear of the hearse to lift the casket and carry it to the stand above the grave.
It was a very moving service. Lynn and Cheryl had joined themselves to a Messianic Jewish congregation in Lubbock, and included Jewish customs in all that they had done since Lynn passed away.
After the service, we all went to the First Baptist Church, where, following Cheryl’s wishes for a celebration of Lynn’s life, we enjoyed a traditional Thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey, dressing, and all the trimmings, prepared by the ladies of the church.
Jim and Janet and Murphy and Spencer had to hit the road following the meal, so Bob, Teresa, and I said goodbye to them and then we returned to their site at the KOA for an evening of visiting and reminiscing.
When I talked to Barbara, she told me about her day, especially the FedEx experience in Dallas/Fort Worth. We were both reminded of a similar experience on our first cross-country trip in Big V when a tractor trailer rig cut in front of us while the back half of the trailer was still alongside the motor home. Some experiences just don’t need to be repeated!
Saturday, August 29
Barbara: I can’t think of anything that Edith and I have done today that anyone would be
interested in…oops! Not so fast…I forgot about my lawn mowing adventure.
After breakfast, I decided to see if I could start Ernie’s rope pull mower since the yard looked a little ragged and I had nothing to do. Besides, it was a pretty; half-way cool morning…well…it would have been if I could get the darn thing started.
First off, since I couldn’t get it to start, I decided that maybe it needed some more gas. BUT…I couldn’t get the gas to come out of the gas can. Didn’t realize that it had a yellow disk in it to block the flow…got that handled…but then put the gas cap back on the mower crooked and couldn’t get it off! Had to go find pliers! Okay…I’m ready…let’s try this again…NOTHING!
Nothing, Nothing, Nothing…for about 15 minutes!
Okay, now I say baloney and roll the mower into the garage. Turned my back to go in the house and realized that the mower is now rolling down the driveway at a high rate of speed. I go charging after it…laughing at what a sight this all must be if the neighbors are looking out!
After the neighbor’s curb halts the runaway mower, I push it over to the level sidewalk, thinking maybe this little escapade has knocked some sense into it. Nope! Still can’t get it going. I look up, see this man about my age walking and say, “Hey, do you think you are strong enough to get this thing started?” (Now what man can resist an opening like that?)
Mr. Kind Man gives the mower several opportunities to strut its stuff before he (sorry about this, Ernie) asks me if I realize that this mower is a piece of junk. I smile politely and say, “It’s my brother-in-law’s mower and he loves it.” Mr. Kind Man looks astounded and gives it one more try! And…vroom!!! It starts!!!! (Guess it had to be insulted before it would work.) Mr. Kind Man looks at me and says, “Don’t you dare turn this thing off until you’re finished!” and he quickly resumes his walk before I can hardly say, “Thank you so much!”
The front yard got mowed…Jim will have to do the back!
I kept busy the rest of the day by changing the furniture arrangement in the living room, dusting, mopping, fixing meals, etc. With Jim not here, the operative phrase was keep finding something to help pass the time.
Finally…time for bed!
Jim: With another relatively short riding day ahead, I was able to take my time getting away from Tucumcari this morning. Bob, Teresa, and I went to the Flying J Truck Stop for breakfast (they had a really great buffet) and more conversation. They were also headed to Lubbock today, but were on a more relaxed schedule, so I left them there, climbed back on the cycle, and headed east to Amarillo.
When we told Leah and Ryan that I would be in Amarillo this morning, they decided to come down from Liberal and visit a bit. We all arrived at the mall at exactly 11:00 am and went inside. First on the agenda was a walk-around of the mall, just to get the travel kinks out; then, we all voted that we wanted to eat at Chick-Filet, a franchise that we rarely get to eat at.
After getting caught up on recent news and events, we did another walk-around to settle our meal and then went outside to take some pictures and say our goodbyes. The kids had some other business to take care of, and I had another couple of hours of riding to get to Lubbock. I tried to set the camera up so I could get a single picture of all three of us, but forgot that I didn’t know how to use the timer (that’s always been Barbara’s job), so we just took pictures of each other.
We went to the cemetery at 3:00 and began meeting and greeting others as th
ey trickled in. We were pleased to see another ENMU music friend and retired band director, Jim Barnard and his wife Janet, who had driven up from Clovis to say farewell to Lynn.Soon, it was time to begin the service and the two Jims, two Bobs, and a couple more of Lynn’s friends took our places at the rear of the hearse to lift the casket and carry it to the stand above the grave.
It was a very moving service. Lynn and Cheryl had joined themselves to a Messianic Jewish congregation in Lubbock, and included Jewish customs in all that they had done since Lynn passed away.
After the service, we all went to the First Baptist Church, where, following Cheryl’s wishes for a celebration of Lynn’s life, we enjoyed a traditional Thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey, dressing, and all the trimmings, prepared by the ladies of the church.
Jim and Janet and Murphy and Spencer had to hit the road following the meal, so Bob, Teresa, and I said goodbye to them and then we returned to their site at the KOA for an evening of visiting and reminiscing.
When I talked to Barbara, she told me about her day, especially the FedEx experience in Dallas/Fort Worth. We were both reminded of a similar experience on our first cross-country trip in Big V when a tractor trailer rig cut in front of us while the back half of the trailer was still alongside the motor home. Some experiences just don’t need to be repeated!
Saturday, August 29
Barbara: I can’t think of anything that Edith and I have done today that anyone would be
interested in…oops! Not so fast…I forgot about my lawn mowing adventure.
After breakfast, I decided to see if I could start Ernie’s rope pull mower since the yard looked a little ragged and I had nothing to do. Besides, it was a pretty; half-way cool morning…well…it would have been if I could get the darn thing started.
First off, since I couldn’t get it to start, I decided that maybe it needed some more gas. BUT…I couldn’t get the gas to come out of the gas can. Didn’t realize that it had a yellow disk in it to block the flow…got that handled…but then put the gas cap back on the mower crooked and couldn’t get it off! Had to go find pliers! Okay…I’m ready…let’s try this again…NOTHING!
Nothing, Nothing, Nothing…for about 15 minutes!
Okay, now I say baloney and roll the mower into the garage. Turned my back to go in the house and realized that the mower is now rolling down the driveway at a high rate of speed. I go charging after it…laughing at what a sight this all must be if the neighbors are looking out!
After the neighbor’s curb halts the runaway mower, I push it over to the level sidewalk, thinking maybe this little escapade has knocked some sense into it. Nope! Still can’t get it going. I look up, see this man about my age walking and say, “Hey, do you think you are strong enough to get this thing started?” (Now what man can resist an opening like that?)
Mr. Kind Man gives the mower several opportunities to strut its stuff before he (sorry about this, Ernie) asks me if I realize that this mower is a piece of junk. I smile politely and say, “It’s my brother-in-law’s mower and he loves it.” Mr. Kind Man looks astounded and gives it one more try! And…vroom!!! It starts!!!! (Guess it had to be insulted before it would work.) Mr. Kind Man looks at me and says, “Don’t you dare turn this thing off until you’re finished!” and he quickly resumes his walk before I can hardly say, “Thank you so much!”
The front yard got mowed…Jim will have to do the back!
I kept busy the rest of the day by changing the furniture arrangement in the living room, dusting, mopping, fixing meals, etc. With Jim not here, the operative phrase was keep finding something to help pass the time.
Finally…time for bed!
Jim: With another relatively short riding day ahead, I was able to take my time getting away from Tucumcari this morning. Bob, Teresa, and I went to the Flying J Truck Stop for breakfast (they had a really great buffet) and more conversation. They were also headed to Lubbock today, but were on a more relaxed schedule, so I left them there, climbed back on the cycle, and headed east to Amarillo.
When we told Leah and Ryan that I would be in Amarillo this morning, they decided to come down from Liberal and visit a bit. We all arrived at the mall at exactly 11:00 am and went inside. First on the agenda was a walk-around of the mall, just to get the travel kinks out; then, we all voted that we wanted to eat at Chick-Filet, a franchise that we rarely get to eat at.
After getting caught up on recent news and events, we did another walk-around to settle our meal and then went outside to take some pictures and say our goodbyes. The kids had some other business to take care of, and I had another couple of hours of riding to get to Lubbock. I tried to set the camera up so I could get a single picture of all three of us, but forgot that I didn’t know how to use the timer (that’s always been Barbara’s job), so we just took pictures of each other.
The ride to Lubbock was uneventful (thank goodness), but it was plenty warm, and I had the makings of pretty good sunburn on my arms and the exposed part of my face by the time I got to the house on Lynnhaven.It didn’t take long to get settled in, as Jaycie helped me carry in my little bit of luggage. I didn’t pull the trailer on this trip, so all I had was what could fit in the trunk and saddlebags.
I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening visiting with Jimmy and Jaycie. At one point Jimmy received a call letting him know that a team of roofers was finishing up a project and was ready for him to come inspect their work. So, the three of us went across town to check it out. Several months ago Jimmy got a job with a roofing company and this was my first opportunity to see some of what he does.
When we got to the sight, Jimmy, who has an almost deathly fear of heights, scrambled up the ladder and started walking around the room of an apartment building to check the quality of the work. After he had been up there a few minutes, he came back down and asked Jaycie if she wanted to walk around up there with him. That was almost a silly question, as Jaycie loves being out with Jimmy, so she followed him up the shaky ladder (my job was to hold on to it and keep it as steady as possible) while I watched.
It was at this point that I realized that I had left my camera at the house and was missing some wonderful shots of Jaycie and her daddy walking around on the roof. I called Barbara to tell her what she wouldn’t believe what I was missing and she let me know the very obvious – that I should have had the camera with me.Luckily, Jimmy took some pictures of Jaycie with his phone camera, but it just wasn’t the same thing as the shots I could and should have taken, such as Jaycie practicing her “scorpion” position (standing on one foot and holding her other foot above her head) on the ridge of the sloped roof.
When we did get back to the house, I took the Jaybird out to the cycle and took some shots of her (and puppy Raider) on it. We try to keep current photos of the grandkids on the Voyager, but it’s difficult to do.
Sunday, August 30Barbara: Since Edith didn’t feel like trying to tackle dressing for church, etc., she opted to stay home while I drove over to Quitman to Rim Rock Cowboy Church. Jim’s cousin’s husband, Ladd, was there alone too since Angela had to work; so he sat with me which was kind of funny in a way. I’ll explain.
Ever since Jim and I married, it has been a habit to reach over and hold each other’s hand during a prayer. This morning I found myself reaching for Ladd’s hand…now wouldn’t he have been shocked if I hadn’t suddenly remembered that he wasn’t Jim????
Jim had prepared a meat loaf before he left on his journey, so after church, TJ came over and we all enjoyed the fruits of his labor.
After the redecorating that I did yesterday, TJ, Edith, and I decided that she really needed an area rug. Therefore, after a short nap, I headed to Wal-Mart to see what I could find which was absolutely nothing!
As I pulled into the garage, I saw a really nice area rug stuck in the corner that we hadn’t let Edith put down when she moved here because it was so nasty with spots that carpet cleaning wouldn’t take out. Then, I had an inspiration…I had a cleaning lady in Lubbock who told me once that liquid Dawn and water would clean upholstery, carpets, etc. And, she proved it once by taking my small sunroom sofa outside and hosing it down until it looked like new.
Anyway, knowing that this rug, though expensive, wasn’t any good the way it was, I decided to try the Dawn/water trick. This endeavor filled the rest of my afternoon. Looks like it may have worked, but will have to wait until it dries completely to know for sure.
Even though it was in the sun for much of the afternoon, that evening it was still very wet and heavy; but I finally was able to drag it into the garage for the night.
Jim: While Jimmy, Cathey, and Jaycie attended their church, I decided to ride over to Bacon Heights Baptist Church, hoping to see Don Baldwin, our good friend and former youth minister from First Baptist Church in Liberal.
I couldn’t find anyone there who had seen Don this morning, but that was no big surprise since he is the original “ricochet man,” bouncing from here to there while he meets with the youth and tries to keep up with all the Sunday morning obligations.
I went on in to the 10:45 service (contemporary service…didn’t care much for the music, but the pastor gave a great sermon and lesson before we shared in Communion), only to find that Don wasn’t where he normally would be.
As I left the church, I spoke with the pastor and he told me that Don was in San Antonio with a leadership group, but that he would definitely let him know that I had been there this morning.
I rode back to the house on Lynnhaven to see if the kids were there, but they had gone out to eat after their church service, so I decided I’d leave them a note that I was going to go find the site for tonight’s memorial service.
I knew the service would be at a park on north University, but didn’t know exactly where, so I just picked up University at the south end of the loop and drove all the way through town until I came to the Buddy Holly Recreation Area, a beautiful park that is part of the Canyon Lakes waterway. Those of our age will remember that Buddy Holly was a native of Lubbock, hence the designation of many locations in Lubbock with his name.
What I learned on the trip out was that I didn’t want to go that way again. University Avenue is under construction in several places (I think it’s a perpetual construction street, having that way as long as I can remember) and it was very rough on the cycle. So, I just caught the Loop a couple of blocks north of the park and was back at the house in about 15 minutes.
When I returned to the house, I found a note from Jimmy saying that he and Jaycie were at cheer practice across town, so I just piddled around for a couple of hours until they returned. Jimmy had a meeting for an hour or so, leaving Jaycie and me to visit until he returned.
When Jimmy got back from his meeting, he apologized for not being around much today, but that they had several obligations already set before they found that I was riding out this weekend, and that he and Jaycie were due at another get-together for the cheer squad and their parents. I told him to not worry about it…I was just very grateful for the time we did have, but we did take a few minutes to get some pictures.
I left the house again around 6:15 to ride out to the park for Lynn’s memorial service. Some 75-100 family members and friends were gathered for the service, which began with the sounding of a shofar (ram’s horn) and several Jewish dances for the occasion by ladies from the congregation.This was followed by a series of comments and testimonials by Lynn’s friends, co-workers, and former students who were in attendance. As a band director (and even principal at Farwell High School for several years), Lynn had a great influence on students, parents, and fellow band directors for 40 years, and the comments that were shared tonight attested to his character and his love and devotion to his family, friends, and most especially, to his students.
The service ended around 9:00 pm as Cheryl, Lynn’s wife, read the Hebrew prayers of blessing for Lynn and their children, Eric, Ivan, Heather, Haley, and Heidi, and the Rabbi once again sounded the shofar.It was good to see Lynn’s family again, even under these sad circumstances, and also good to reconnect with more college friends that I hadn’t seen in 43 years, as well as fellow band directors that I’ve had the pleasure to know through my years in the profession. Lynn was a “people person,” and even now, he brought many of his favorite people together for a special celebration of his life.
At the end of the service I called Barbara to let her know that I was heading back to the house and that I would call her when I got there.
Back at the house I once again called Barbara to let her know I arrived safely and to recount the activities of the day, and then spent a couple of hours visiting with Jimmy Clint before we decided it had been a long day and we needed to get to sleep.
Monday, August 31
Barbara: 7:00 AM…Jim’s coming home!!!!! Yay!!!!
At 10:00 he called and said I have some good news and some not so good news and some really bad news. The good news is that I’ve had a wonderful ride this morning and I’m in Seymour where I’ve stopped for gas. As he’s talking I’m thinking the bad can’t be that bad because he sounds good so he can’t be too hurt!
The not so good news is that somewhere between Lubbock and Seymour on Highway 82, (a distance of around 140 miles) the left saddlebag lid must have blown off. I’m thinking…okay, we’ll replace it. Not so bad…he’s right.
The bad news is that my wallet was in the black storage container on the saddlebag lid. All of my credit cards, drivers’ license, and the $500 I got for our trip to Richmond are gone. My heart dropped and I knew he was right this was BAD news! But, we have the 2.99 a month wallet protection plan with Discover so cancelling the credit cards wouldn’t be that big a deal; but we certainly can’t leave town without the replacements and that will take forever…sinking feeling.
Finally, we devised a strategy…he’d call Jimmy Clint in Lubbock and ask him to call the Highway Patrol and I would call Discover. Couldn’t think of anything else to do.
Now…here’s where the power of prayer comes in…
While I was talking to the lady at Discover, my phone kept beeping signaling that someone was calling. After this happened the 3rd time, the lady said, “How about you wait a little bit, check your phone for messages, and call me back if you need to.”
I called Jim to see if he had been calling, but he said he only called once…we decided that I’d hold off talking to Discover since obviously someone else was calling. BINGO! The next call I had was from Pre-Paid Legal advising me that the King County Sheriff was trying to get hold of me. My husband’s wallet had been found.
I immediately called Jim but couldn’t reach him so just left an excited message and called the Sheriff myself…yep! Sheriff Cotton Elliot! Doesn’t that sound like a good old West Texas name? He was so nice! He was worried about Jim having enough $$$ to buy gas to come back and get his wallet and offered to have his brother who is sheriff at Seymour come give him money. How can one not believe in angels on earth?
Filled with nervous energy after this episode, I was ready to move Edith’s long missing area rug into place. First, I asked her to come to the living room as I needed her help. This definitely puzzled her since she is barely able to walk, but she willingly did as I asked.
The look on her face was priceless when she saw me haul in her old carpet. She couldn’t believe it! And, with her advising me, I placed the area rug in her newly re-modeled living room. It was a great time and worth all the effort!
I passed the rest of the day tracking where Jim should be, making a banana pudding for his homecoming, etc.
He’s HOME!!!!
Once again, I thank each and every one of you who prayed for us on our journeys this week.
All’s well that ends well…
Jim: Even with a short night’s sleep I was up early and, after saying goodbye, climbed on the cycle at 6:30 am.
Since I hadn’t refueled last night and the needle was about to hit the peg, I decided I’d better stop at the first convenience store I saw to get some gas. After fueling up, I rode from Indiana and the Loop to University and the Loop, where I stopped at a Wells Fargo ATM to get cash for our upcoming trip. Since I was in a hurry and it wasn’t convenient to balance the cycle and try to dig out my wallet, I just wadded up the bills and stuck them in my shirt pocket, an act that later was to prove very important and raise the age-old question, “Is it luckier to be smart, or smarter to be lucky?).
After visiting the ATM, I rode across the parking lot, stopped at Burger King to eat breakfast and call Barbara to let her know I was out and about. When I left Burger King I took my wallet out of my jeans and put it in the secure compartment in the top of the left saddlebag cover. The seat of the cycle is less than comfortable after a couple of hours of riding, and sitting on a wallet is just too much to bear.
At 7:10 I pulled up on the Loop and headed toward the U.S. 82 exit and the long road to Mineola. It was a beautiful morning…cool and slightly overcast…a biker’s dream.
I had planned to stop at the gas station/convenience store in Guthrie, but when I got close, I saw that the new highway bypassed the little town…no problem…I had gotten there ahead of schedule and had plenty of gas to get 33 miles down the road to Benjamin, so I just kept on cruising.
When I got to Benjamin I found that their convenience store wasn’t open yet, so I just continued another 30 or so miles to Seymour, where I knew there was an Allsup’s store and station that was open 24 hours a day.
I pulled up to the pump island at Allsup’s, turned off the ignition, opened the gas compartment and took off the tank lid. Then, I got off the cycle on the right side (didn’t leave enough room between the cycle and the island on the left side), shook out some of the kinks, and walked around to the other side to put the nozzle in the tank.
While I fitted the nozzle into the tank, I looked down and saw the clothes that I had packed inside the left saddle bag. This was immediately disturbing, since seeing the clothes meant that I wasn‘t seeing the cover that should be securely latched on the saddlebag, and it immediately triggered the thought that this was not a good deal.
As my mind started processing these thoughts, I automatically reached toward my back pocket to pull out my wallet so I could go ahead and pay for my gasoline. It was then that my brain reminded me that the wallet had been securely stored in the compartment on the top of the cover; the already not good deal became very bad indeed.
Still thinking of what to do next, I remembered that I had put the cash from this morning’s ATM stop in my shirt pocket (lucky or smart?), so I went inside, gave the clerk a 20-dollar bill, and went back outside to fill up the tank, my mind still reeling from what was happening.
When I finished fueling, I rode the cycle to a parking space in front of the store, went inside to get my change, and then called Barbara to tell her that I had good news and bad news. The good news was that I was in Seymour and well ahead of schedule. The bad news was, of course, that the saddlebag cover, complete with my wallet, all of our credit cards and identification, and $500 that was to be used for our upcoming trip to the east coast was somewhere between Lubbock and Seymour, and I didn’t have a clue where it might be. It became even worse when I said that if the cover shattered when it came off and hit the pavement, the contents of the wallet could well be scattered all over the West Texas plains…a very sobering thought.
I asked Barbara to call Discover and report the incident so they could begin the process of notifying our credit card companies, the drivers license bureau, insurance company, etc. Meanwhile, I called Jimmy Clint in Lubbock and told him what had happened. He, in turn, called the local Texas State Trooper office and asked them to be on the lookout alongside eastbound U.S. 82.
While I was talking to Jimmy Clint, my phone started beeping to let me know that I had an incoming call. I figured it was Barbara calling back, but when I looked at the screen I saw I had a call from Oklahoma, but no number was given. I began hoping against hope that some traveler behind me had found the cover (or at least my wallet) and was trying to get in touch with me (surely, I thought, those legendary West Texas winds couldn’t have carried everything across the state line already!).
That hope faded when a few minutes later the screen registered a number that I immediately called, only to get in touch with the marketing division of Pre-Paid Legal, a service we have used for several years. The call was dropped even before I could start taking to anyone, so I tried again and got only a message that kept repeating that my call was important to them and if I would just hold on for another three minutes, they would be happy to talk to me.
While I was waiting, continually being assured by the nameless and faceless voice that it would be only another 2-3 minutes and someone would talk to me, I got the incoming call beep again. Figuring that it was Barbara, I broke the connection with Pre-Paid Legal and looked at the screen to see that a voice mail from Barbara had been registered. When I called the voice mail service, I heard her excited voice yelling, “They found it…they found it…call me!”
It was with a feeling of great relief that I finally got the “live” Barbara voice and she told me to call Cotton Elliott in Guthrie…the lid and its contents had been found and turned in to the sheriff’s office.
I called Sheriff Elliott and told him who and where I was. He said that if I needed money for gas to return to Guthrie to call his brother, the sheriff in Seymour, and he would give it to me. I thanked him and told him that I had a full tank of gas and would be there in a little over an hour.
Even though this blew our time schedule for the day all to heck and back, it was with a much lighter heart that I returned to Guthrie, found the King County Courthouse and Guthrie ISD Central Office (the district judge also doubles as the superintendent of schools), and went inside to meet Sheriff Elliott.
I didn’t know what to expect, but met a tall, lanky cowboy-looking man who was wearing a star on his shirt pocket…obviously someone important. He introduced himself and I told him who I was. Jokingly, I told him I’d be glad to provide identification, but that I thought he probably had all of it. He assured me that he already knew who I was because he had seen my pictures and ID.
We went to his office and he handed the cover and my wallet with all its contents intact. He then told me that the cover had been found just west of town by a local highway department employee, probably just a few minutes after it had blown off. The employee brought it straight to the courthouse and the sheriff began trying to track me down, even to the point of calling law enforcement offices from Guthrie to Seymour and Lubbock to ask them to stop any maroon motorcycle that was passing through.
Sheriff Elliott then said that since there was no cell phone number anywhere in my wallet, he called Pre-Paid Legal Services to let them know what was going on and to get my cell number. He identified himself to the woman who took the call, but she told him she couldn’t give out confidential information. He told her, “Ma’am, I’m already looking at more confidential information than you can possibly have in your files…all I need is a cell number so I can call this man and tell him I have his wallet.” When she still refused to give him my number he said, “Ma’am, I know you have more than one telephone in that office, so would you please put your phone down on your desk…I hold my end of the line while you check with a supervisor about this.”
The folks at Pre-Paid Legal still would not give up the information, but promised to try to call Barbara and me and let us know that everything had been found. And that, dear readers, is how it came to pass that we received the best news of the day and I ended up making a return round-trip of about 140 miles to get the cover (which was scuffed, but not even cracked) and my wallet.
I again thanked Sheriff Elliott, got the name of the young man who had found my things, and left the courthouse, making sure the cover was securely latched and locked on the saddlebag before riding east again. I had locked that side down before I left Lubbock this morning…I know that because the latches were locked when I discovered that the cover was missing. All I can figure is that I didn’t have Tab A securely set in Slot B and all it took was a few bumps and a gust of wind for the latch to slip off and the cover to lift off more smoothly than a NASA space shuttle flight.
When I called Barbara from a rest area up the road (no cell signals in Guthrie or Benjamin), she told me that as much as she wanted me to be back in Mineola tonight, I might consider stopping in Gainesville or Sherman if I was too tired to continue home. I told her that I would consider that as I went along and that I wouldn’t take any reckless chances just to get to Mineola tonight.
The rest of the trip was uneventful…I did get tired and pretty warm, but with a couple of refueling stops and a serious Sonic cherry-limeade break at Bells, I managed to get back to Mineola, Mother’s house, and Barbara around 6:15, not too much the worse for wear and the excitement of the day. Certainly, we were grateful to God and had a renewed faith in the basic goodness of His people after our experiences of the day.
When we were finished unloading the saddlebags and trunk, Barbara said she wanted pictures of the equipment, so we went outside and I removed the cover and opened the top pocket. You can’t tell much about the current condition of the cover, but you can at least see what we have been writing about.
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Were we upset with the folks at Pre-Paid legal? Certainly not…one would expect a high degree of confidentiality from a service of that nature and they did deliver…it just took us a little longer to get the good news.
Where will I keep my wallet on future trips? It definitely won’t be in that handy-dandy little pocket…probably in the trunk or zipped into a jacket pocket…I may be a slow learner, but I AM a learner!
What did I learn from today’s experiences? Check, double check, and then recheck the double check when starting out on a motorcycle trip. Even though the latches were locked, they weren’t really latched, so now I have added that step to the check list for future trips.
And, as Barbara stated in her entry for the day, “All’s well that ends well.”
“The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.” ~Jean Paul Richter
Happy to be “home, even if it’s at Mother’s house,”
Jim & Barbara
The look on her face was priceless when she saw me haul in her old carpet. She couldn’t believe it! And, with her advising me, I placed the area rug in her newly re-modeled living room. It was a great time and worth all the effort!
I passed the rest of the day tracking where Jim should be, making a banana pudding for his homecoming, etc.
He’s HOME!!!!
Once again, I thank each and every one of you who prayed for us on our journeys this week.
All’s well that ends well…
Jim: Even with a short night’s sleep I was up early and, after saying goodbye, climbed on the cycle at 6:30 am.
Since I hadn’t refueled last night and the needle was about to hit the peg, I decided I’d better stop at the first convenience store I saw to get some gas. After fueling up, I rode from Indiana and the Loop to University and the Loop, where I stopped at a Wells Fargo ATM to get cash for our upcoming trip. Since I was in a hurry and it wasn’t convenient to balance the cycle and try to dig out my wallet, I just wadded up the bills and stuck them in my shirt pocket, an act that later was to prove very important and raise the age-old question, “Is it luckier to be smart, or smarter to be lucky?).
After visiting the ATM, I rode across the parking lot, stopped at Burger King to eat breakfast and call Barbara to let her know I was out and about. When I left Burger King I took my wallet out of my jeans and put it in the secure compartment in the top of the left saddlebag cover. The seat of the cycle is less than comfortable after a couple of hours of riding, and sitting on a wallet is just too much to bear.
At 7:10 I pulled up on the Loop and headed toward the U.S. 82 exit and the long road to Mineola. It was a beautiful morning…cool and slightly overcast…a biker’s dream.
I had planned to stop at the gas station/convenience store in Guthrie, but when I got close, I saw that the new highway bypassed the little town…no problem…I had gotten there ahead of schedule and had plenty of gas to get 33 miles down the road to Benjamin, so I just kept on cruising.
When I got to Benjamin I found that their convenience store wasn’t open yet, so I just continued another 30 or so miles to Seymour, where I knew there was an Allsup’s store and station that was open 24 hours a day.
I pulled up to the pump island at Allsup’s, turned off the ignition, opened the gas compartment and took off the tank lid. Then, I got off the cycle on the right side (didn’t leave enough room between the cycle and the island on the left side), shook out some of the kinks, and walked around to the other side to put the nozzle in the tank.
While I fitted the nozzle into the tank, I looked down and saw the clothes that I had packed inside the left saddle bag. This was immediately disturbing, since seeing the clothes meant that I wasn‘t seeing the cover that should be securely latched on the saddlebag, and it immediately triggered the thought that this was not a good deal.
As my mind started processing these thoughts, I automatically reached toward my back pocket to pull out my wallet so I could go ahead and pay for my gasoline. It was then that my brain reminded me that the wallet had been securely stored in the compartment on the top of the cover; the already not good deal became very bad indeed.
Still thinking of what to do next, I remembered that I had put the cash from this morning’s ATM stop in my shirt pocket (lucky or smart?), so I went inside, gave the clerk a 20-dollar bill, and went back outside to fill up the tank, my mind still reeling from what was happening.
When I finished fueling, I rode the cycle to a parking space in front of the store, went inside to get my change, and then called Barbara to tell her that I had good news and bad news. The good news was that I was in Seymour and well ahead of schedule. The bad news was, of course, that the saddlebag cover, complete with my wallet, all of our credit cards and identification, and $500 that was to be used for our upcoming trip to the east coast was somewhere between Lubbock and Seymour, and I didn’t have a clue where it might be. It became even worse when I said that if the cover shattered when it came off and hit the pavement, the contents of the wallet could well be scattered all over the West Texas plains…a very sobering thought.
I asked Barbara to call Discover and report the incident so they could begin the process of notifying our credit card companies, the drivers license bureau, insurance company, etc. Meanwhile, I called Jimmy Clint in Lubbock and told him what had happened. He, in turn, called the local Texas State Trooper office and asked them to be on the lookout alongside eastbound U.S. 82.
While I was talking to Jimmy Clint, my phone started beeping to let me know that I had an incoming call. I figured it was Barbara calling back, but when I looked at the screen I saw I had a call from Oklahoma, but no number was given. I began hoping against hope that some traveler behind me had found the cover (or at least my wallet) and was trying to get in touch with me (surely, I thought, those legendary West Texas winds couldn’t have carried everything across the state line already!).
That hope faded when a few minutes later the screen registered a number that I immediately called, only to get in touch with the marketing division of Pre-Paid Legal, a service we have used for several years. The call was dropped even before I could start taking to anyone, so I tried again and got only a message that kept repeating that my call was important to them and if I would just hold on for another three minutes, they would be happy to talk to me.
While I was waiting, continually being assured by the nameless and faceless voice that it would be only another 2-3 minutes and someone would talk to me, I got the incoming call beep again. Figuring that it was Barbara, I broke the connection with Pre-Paid Legal and looked at the screen to see that a voice mail from Barbara had been registered. When I called the voice mail service, I heard her excited voice yelling, “They found it…they found it…call me!”
It was with a feeling of great relief that I finally got the “live” Barbara voice and she told me to call Cotton Elliott in Guthrie…the lid and its contents had been found and turned in to the sheriff’s office.
I called Sheriff Elliott and told him who and where I was. He said that if I needed money for gas to return to Guthrie to call his brother, the sheriff in Seymour, and he would give it to me. I thanked him and told him that I had a full tank of gas and would be there in a little over an hour.
Even though this blew our time schedule for the day all to heck and back, it was with a much lighter heart that I returned to Guthrie, found the King County Courthouse and Guthrie ISD Central Office (the district judge also doubles as the superintendent of schools), and went inside to meet Sheriff Elliott.
I didn’t know what to expect, but met a tall, lanky cowboy-looking man who was wearing a star on his shirt pocket…obviously someone important. He introduced himself and I told him who I was. Jokingly, I told him I’d be glad to provide identification, but that I thought he probably had all of it. He assured me that he already knew who I was because he had seen my pictures and ID.
We went to his office and he handed the cover and my wallet with all its contents intact. He then told me that the cover had been found just west of town by a local highway department employee, probably just a few minutes after it had blown off. The employee brought it straight to the courthouse and the sheriff began trying to track me down, even to the point of calling law enforcement offices from Guthrie to Seymour and Lubbock to ask them to stop any maroon motorcycle that was passing through.
Sheriff Elliott then said that since there was no cell phone number anywhere in my wallet, he called Pre-Paid Legal Services to let them know what was going on and to get my cell number. He identified himself to the woman who took the call, but she told him she couldn’t give out confidential information. He told her, “Ma’am, I’m already looking at more confidential information than you can possibly have in your files…all I need is a cell number so I can call this man and tell him I have his wallet.” When she still refused to give him my number he said, “Ma’am, I know you have more than one telephone in that office, so would you please put your phone down on your desk…I hold my end of the line while you check with a supervisor about this.”
The folks at Pre-Paid Legal still would not give up the information, but promised to try to call Barbara and me and let us know that everything had been found. And that, dear readers, is how it came to pass that we received the best news of the day and I ended up making a return round-trip of about 140 miles to get the cover (which was scuffed, but not even cracked) and my wallet.
I again thanked Sheriff Elliott, got the name of the young man who had found my things, and left the courthouse, making sure the cover was securely latched and locked on the saddlebag before riding east again. I had locked that side down before I left Lubbock this morning…I know that because the latches were locked when I discovered that the cover was missing. All I can figure is that I didn’t have Tab A securely set in Slot B and all it took was a few bumps and a gust of wind for the latch to slip off and the cover to lift off more smoothly than a NASA space shuttle flight.
When I called Barbara from a rest area up the road (no cell signals in Guthrie or Benjamin), she told me that as much as she wanted me to be back in Mineola tonight, I might consider stopping in Gainesville or Sherman if I was too tired to continue home. I told her that I would consider that as I went along and that I wouldn’t take any reckless chances just to get to Mineola tonight.
The rest of the trip was uneventful…I did get tired and pretty warm, but with a couple of refueling stops and a serious Sonic cherry-limeade break at Bells, I managed to get back to Mineola, Mother’s house, and Barbara around 6:15, not too much the worse for wear and the excitement of the day. Certainly, we were grateful to God and had a renewed faith in the basic goodness of His people after our experiences of the day.
When we were finished unloading the saddlebags and trunk, Barbara said she wanted pictures of the equipment, so we went outside and I removed the cover and opened the top pocket. You can’t tell much about the current condition of the cover, but you can at least see what we have been writing about.
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Were we upset with the folks at Pre-Paid legal? Certainly not…one would expect a high degree of confidentiality from a service of that nature and they did deliver…it just took us a little longer to get the good news.Where will I keep my wallet on future trips? It definitely won’t be in that handy-dandy little pocket…probably in the trunk or zipped into a jacket pocket…I may be a slow learner, but I AM a learner!
What did I learn from today’s experiences? Check, double check, and then recheck the double check when starting out on a motorcycle trip. Even though the latches were locked, they weren’t really latched, so now I have added that step to the check list for future trips.
And, as Barbara stated in her entry for the day, “All’s well that ends well.”
“The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.” ~Jean Paul Richter
Happy to be “home, even if it’s at Mother’s house,”
Jim & Barbara
