Through the Years - A Love Story

Tranquilla 2 - From the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley -

A woman knows the face of the man she loves as a sailor knows the open sea. Honore de Balzac

In 1989 after Hurricane Hugo devastated our vacation to Pawley's Island, S.C., upon a recommendation from a friend we went to Tybee Island, Ga.

Tybee Island was very different in those days; it was still very much the "quirky" Key West of Georgia. Although much of that "quirkiness" is hidden behind the scenes now, much of that allure still exists for those of us who fit in.

We had the pleasure and honor of meeting and being befriended by Ann and Jim Knipe, a Pennsylvania transplant couple who have become my adopted parents.

This is their love story and it is a slice of my story about my love of this island, my friends, my wife and my dogs and all our friends that still hang out there.

It is rare in life when we can take the time to stop and reflect and share life and this is a small attempt on my part to do just that.

Below are photos from Ann and Jim's 50th anniversary, they have since celebrated their 60th (and when time permits I will load those photos as well). The photos are set to Kenny Rogers "Through the Years."

I hope you enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed putting it together.

Love, peace and grace, Dr. Darryl

Should We All Just Go 'John Gault'?

"Everyone has the right to make his own decision(s), but none has the right to force his decision on others." --- Ayn Rand ('The Virtue of Selfishness', Chapter 12) {WMail Issue #10}

From Tybee Island, Ga. --- There were some big storms rolling through the low country last night and as I lay awake listening to the thunder, comforting my little buddy "Little Bit," I began to think about the fact that I started working at age 13.

Today, at age 58 approaching 59, that means that I have worked close to half a century. For 46 years of my life I have worked and paid taxes. I have tried to grow an estate, maximize my wealth and talent, continue my education and give back in a meaningful way to society not just through my taxes but also through my charity.

I am now being told by the POTUS and current Congress that I will be penalized through higher taxes that will be redistributed to those in need of health care, midnight basketball, new bridges and transit systems to nowhere, more money for the public school system and the endless array of publicly funded programs that have no accountability whatsoever.

As I lay awake listening to the night sounds of the storm I came to understand what Dr. Sigmund Freud meant by the two most important things in a man's life is "love and work."

Both of these have at times in my life alluded me in fulfillment. Man I believe is always searching for unconditional love and meaningful work.

I came away from this contemplation thinking that maybe it is time to simply go "John Gault" and let the looters on both sides of the political spectrum in Congress loot somewhere other than my pocketbook.

What do I mean?

"Who is John Gault?"

John Gault was the fictional character in Ayn Rand's classic novel Atlas Shrugged.

After many years of not reading this book yet being encouraged to do so by many friends on the conservative and libertarian side of the political fence I did so the past two months. The book is more than 500 pages yet once you get into it if you have any sense of outrage at what is going on now in our once free and capitalistic country you will become even more outraged.

What Rand wrote about in 1958 is today's world where the government has nationalized and socialized business and industry.

In the book the government has turned the country into a socialist welfare state because its "leaders" believe all wealth should be redistributed.

John Gault led the strike in this novel to shut down the "engines of the world" and invited those who were or would be the producers to join him in Gault's Gulch where they would produce only enough to sustain themselves and work for no other man's benefit.

Recently on Pajamas TV (www.pjtv.com), Dr. Helen Smith, a Knoxville, Tenn. psychologist, noted that many people are considering how to become present day "John Gaults" in other words if the administration is going to penalize us as producers for earning more by taking more in the form of taxes then how can we "John Gault" it by earning less and enjoying life more?

Seems pretty simple to me POTUS and Congress, you want to tax anyone earning above $250,000 or is it $150,000 VP Biden?

Whatever level you choose you can bet that from that point forward those of us whom you count on to produce your taxes may just decide to earn less and less, maybe even reduce our production to the level that we can also sign up for your redistribution and giveaway programs.

Yes, it has been 46-years that I have diligently worked, saved and at times maybe even sacrificed some of my life spirit to be a good, patriotic tax paying citizen. Oh, I will still pay the tax man until I die in some form or fashion, because there are even hidden taxes now that we all must pay to get along, but should I work for the other man's needs and at his whims when he is not willing to work for himself and pay his own share?

I recommend you listen to this interview with Dr. Smith at:

http://www.pjtv.com/video/Ask_Dr_Helen/PJTV_Daily_Oct_29th_Dr_Helen/676/1951/

then decide for yourself your own future.

I look forward to meeting you Mr. Gault!

Love, peace and grace, Dr. D

Obama Beach?

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Is the entire world so enamoured with the POTUS they get tongue-tied? PM Brown you owe every single veteran an apology immediately. My WWII veteran friends knowing he won't I will tell you I am embarrassed for our British friends and allies and I know they would all issue their personal apology given the opportunity.

"Why Do I Shave My Head?"

1976

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Someone usually asks me about this time of the year: “Why do you shave your head?” "Are you taking chemo?" "Or, geez you are going bald aren't you?"

Well, the explanation as to why this time of the year I have a bald head is sort of simple and then again not.

A few years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer my dear-sainted Mother was still living. She had suffered through the passing of my Dad who initially had had colon, then lung, and then brain cancer. She had seen him go through the horrible radiation and chemo treatments and he had, of course, lost his hair. My Dad always had a fine mane of hair and it was one of those traits that my Mother did indeed like about him. My Mother even tried to get my hair to groom like my Dad’s when I was little --- I can remember her putting a silk stocking on my hair after she would wash it and comb it to try and make it lay in the manner she wanted it to lay.

My Father’s Mother when she died in her 90s still had natural jet-black hair, a trait that my Dad had inherited and my Mother liked. So, hair you see was important to my Mom and I suspect even more so because she always had a hard time with her hair and fixing it just right.

Well, after seeing my Mother suffer through all the treatments with my Dad and the consequences of those treatments including losing his hair, I told Kay at that time that if I ever had to have such treatments I would never want my Mother to overtly know that. If you have not figured this out we were big on secrets in my family.

So, the first time I shaved my head was really to deceive my Mother in anticipation that I might have to have chemo or radiation treatments. I was fortunate in that I didn’t have to have either. I simply told her that I had some friends going through chemo and radiation and I was shaving my head to empathize with their plight, which also was partly true as well as I did have a friend who needed such encouragement.

However, I have always let my hair grow out somewhat in the winter time even when I went to Tybee this past year. Yet, when summer comes along and we start talking about Relay for Life and I see my fellow survivors some of whom are going through the bald ordeal I figure the least I can do is shave my head and show my empathy for them.

At one time I was very vain about my hair. Hell, I was pretty vain period. Caryle Simon was probably thinking of me when she wrote "You Are So Vain." I was not only vain, I was also conceited, egotistical, terribly young and immature, very stupid about lots of things, and very confused about life and relationships.

And also like many of us I thought I was invincible. I was wrong on all those points.

Well, I have worked on the vanity piece I suppose and I try and work daily on all the other faults --- some of which I still need help on but I take it one day at a time.

The good news is I grew up and learned a lot in the past 30 years of living and seeing life, people suffering and all the heartaches that go with it.

Shaving my head makes me stop and think about a lot of those past days, the many mistakes and all the regrets and shaving my head has become a Zen sort of thing in that it makes me slow down and take the time to do it right --- one of the few things in my life that maybe I do get right.

And so, now you know. That is the rest of the story of the old bald head.

Love, peace and grace and goodnight Mrs. Calabash wherever you are ...

Dr. Darryl

Reflections on Sunday Before Memorial Day Monday

UPDATE: I was mistaken. The ceremony was Friday not Saturday and my friend Rachel Vickery was kind enough to send a photo to reassure me there was a crowd. My apologies for jumping to an inappropriate conclusion based on lack of sufficient data. Dr. D.

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- When one of my ole buddies contacted me today to wish me a good Memorial Day and to concede, “They forget us” I was saddened again by what I saw, or maybe what I didn’t see, yesterday in Oak Grove.

The “Traveling Wall”, a replica of the Vietnam Memorial Wall came to Oak Grove just outside Fort Campbell, Ky this weekend. Yesterday at 10 a.m. there was to be a welcoming ceremony. I debated going but woke up early and convinced myself that I would. I have seen and visited the traveling version two other times to pay my respects to two of my brothers and I believe for some reason any chance I get I should again.

I got to the Wall 15-minutes ahead of schedule. There were six of us there not including spouses. Four WWII veterans and two of my age and I waited until 10:30 and no one showed up to do the ceremony nor did any other members of the public or any politicians.

Surely I must have been mistaken about the time the ceremony was to be held. I have never known a goldbrick politician that didn’t go out of their way to wrap themselves in the flag and praise the military especially when it was to their advantage or they were in campaign mode. Whatever mistake I made no one was there at 10 a.m. or even 10:30 a.m. Did they show up later? Probably so and I just had the time wrong. However, the empty feeling that my ole Balmer buddy had about “being forgotten” – well, I can understand how he and so many others might feel that way.

Finally though after walking through the traveling museum called the “Last Fire Base” I wrapped it up went to the Waffle House and had breakfast with a couple of old vets who were as disappointed as I was in the lack of interest. Then I went home and me and my dog curled up in the recliner and watched old sci-fi movies from the 50s and had a couple of cocktails and we got through another day.

Let it be known veterans many of us don’t forget you and appreciate all you gave and still give for our country it is just sometimes we don’t do a very good job of letting you know that and for that I am profoundly sorry.

Simper Fi to you all,

Dr. Darryl

Memorial Day - Charlie Brown and Franz Stigler - When Warriors Had Honor

(L-R) German Ace Franz Stigler, artist Ernie Boyett, and B-17 pilot Charlie Brown.

Look carefully at the B-17 and note how shot up it is - one engine dead, tail, horizontal stabilizer and nose shot up.. It was ready to fall out of the sky. (This is a painting done by an artist from the description of both pilots many years later.) Then realize that there is a German ME-109 fighter flying next to it. Now read the story below. I think you'll be surprised.....

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Memorial Day is upon us again. A day when most people tend to forget what it is truly all about and why we set it aside as a Federal holiday other than to grill, drink beer and enjoy the day off. However, two men recently came to my attention thanks to my friend and colleague Chuck Howell from over in East Tennessee that helps to place the importance of Memorial Day into perspective.

I had never heard of them before. Well maybe the one man's name rang a bell --- Charlie Brown --- when I consider the late great Charles Schultz's work and his characters in his famous Peanuts comic strip.

Two men.

World War II.

One an American -- Charlie Brown -- flying a B-17 or what remained of it. You can see the artist rendering above.

The other a German - Franz Stigler, who is sent out by his commanding officer to shoot the Americans down. (Sounds eerily similar to Snoopy and the Red Baron doesn't it?)

What ultimately happened that day resulted in a reunion of these two great warriors before they both passed away in 2008. This type of honor must be strange and foreign to the current generations who have fought "asymmetrical" wars yet at one time there was honor among most of us who served.

We have to remember, as Chuck writes, "...this was back in the days when there was honor in being a warrior...they proudly wore uniforms, and they didn't hide in ambush inside a mosque, or behind women and children, nor did they use mentally retarded women as suicide bombers to target and kill innocent civilians...how times have changed......"

And what follows is the rest of the story ...

Charlie Brown was a B-17 Flying Fortress pilot with the 379th Bomber Group at Kimbolton , England . His B-17 was called 'Ye Old Pub' and was in a terrible state, having been hit by flak and fighters. The compass was damaged and they were flying deeper over enemy territory instead of heading home to Kimbolton.

After flying the B-17 over an enemy airfield, a German pilot named Franz Stigler was ordered to take off and shoot down the B-17. When he got near the B-17, he could not believe his eyes. In his words, he 'had never seen a plane in such a bad state'. The tail and rear section was severely damaged, and the tail gunner wounded. The top gunner was all over the top of the fuselage. The nose was smashed and there were holes everywhere.

Despite having ammunition, Franz flew to the side of the B-17 and looked at Charlie Brown, the pilot. Brown was scared and struggling to control his damaged and blood-stained plane.

Aware that they had no idea where they were going, Franz waved at Charlie to turn 180 degrees. Franz escorted and guided the stricken plane to, and slightly over, the North Sea towards England . He then saluted Charlie Brown and turned away, back to Europe . When Franz landed he told the CO that the plane had been shot down over the sea, and never told the truth to anybody. Charlie Brown and the remains of his crew told all at their briefing, but were ordered never to talk about it.

More than 40 years later, Charlie Brown wanted to find the Luftwaffe pilot who saved the crew. After years of research, Franz was found. He had never talked about the incident, not even at post-war reunions.

They met in the USA at a 379th Bomber Group reunion, together with 25 people who are alive now - all because Franz never fired his guns that day.

When asked why he didn’t shoot them down, Stigler later said, “I didn’t have the heart to finish those brave men. I flew beside them for a long time. They were trying desperately to get home and I was going to let them do that. I could not have shot at them. It would have been the same as shooting at a man in a parachute.”

Both men died in 2008.

Franz Stigler

Charlie Brown

So, there you have it. This Memorial Day I would ask that each of you reading this take the time to simply reflect on the many men and women that have given their lives that we might live free in a country that is still envied by most of the rest of the world --- even if some in power these days don't see it that way.

And when our politicians this Memorial Day lay the wreaths on the graves of those who sacrificed it all so they could be politicians - and nothing much more - let's just remember that many of us still believe in the basic goodness of all our men and women in the military that stand up and fight daily for our freedoms.

For ever faithful my Brothers and Sisters. We stand by you.

Dr. Darryl

P.S. For those of you who need the references or question the validity of the story - go here:
http://www.snopes.com/military/charliebrown.asp

Some Thoughts By Me

This is my friend, and an outstanding and remarkable lady, Carlana Stone, author of "Never Give In, Never Give Up" - her life story about being paralyzed when she was 17-years old and not letting that stop her from skydiving, riding her specially outfitted Harley, learning to fly and scuba diving among just a few of her talents. I highly recommend her book.

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley ---

Finally after what seems forever I have returned home to Lake Barkley! An almost three week business/professional jaunt out into the world and I had these experiences:

1. Arrived in Iowa to find my business associate hospitalized. Rush to ER and find her and we spend two days trying to figure out her issues. The doctor did, Fixed it and we continued our workshop on Leadership Development for the City of Storm Lake. Kudos to Hertz Rental Car Company's Manager at Omaha Airport - Donna - she turned on the utmost in customer service for me when I really needed it. Thanks to her and everyone at Hertz for getting me a car with a GPS system. And whether Dawn and Patti like you or not "Edith" you are my favorite GPS system!

2. Assisted the Storm Lake Community Health Center in getting focused on developing a strategic plan of action - a mandate and simply good business! Great work they are doing and becoming focused will make them even better.

3. Went to Arizona from Iowa to see a dear friend who is scheduled for at least one "mega dose" of radiation following removal of malignant tumors on her vocal chords and removal of thyroid. We enjoyed the Phoenix Zoo on a bike carriage, some good Mexican and Thai food, and did the spa thing - yep, got another manicure and pedicure and massage! Glenn Nesbitt at Tybee is responsible for getting me hooked on this pedicure thing!

I also confronted, and maybe defeated my anxiety, (if not fear) of the dreaded Spider Monkey, hell all monkeys, and I called my friend Tim to let him know of my efforts to resolve this! He didn't volunteer, of course, to come out and help but then that's another story. Don't get me started. Cute? Hmmmm, I have another word for these peeing monsters but will not use it here.

4. Returned to Kentucky briefly while we packed up to then went to Riverside, California to do the 12th annual Space Day for our client Lockheed Martin at Longfellow Elementary School. Probably the best one ever. Kay did magnificent job of organizing - she always does. I was the "grunt" labor along with my "conservative daughter" Penelope. Enjoyed lots of Mexican food and staying at the Mission Inn. If you have not been there go! Ask for Raul, the waiter with personality and utmost customer service. He knows how to fix the bacon that Penelope and I like so well.

5. Finally home. Gathering data and information for a proposal with Battelle and intel gathering for a client in Kentucky. Soon though it will be Memorial Day, or as Mom called it when I was a kid, "Decoration Day."

6. The "Traveling Vietnam Wall" will be in Oak Grove this Memorial Day weekend. I plan to go down and pay my respects and I encourage all of you who know veterans to offer your thanks to them this weekend. We are free men and women - albeit we are losing our freedoms more daily - thanks to the veterans many of whom gave the ultimate sacrifice.

And if the Sec of Homeland Security doesn't appreciate them I damn well do! THANKS to all the men and women, gruntled or disgruntled, that have kept this country free so that political jerks like Janet N., Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, John Murtha and John Kerry (D-Vietnam Veteran) can speak their simple minds whether I agree with them or not.

Simper Fi Brothers and Sisters - Simper Fi,

LPG, Dr. D

THANKS to you all

To my best friend ever - Mr. Stimper - I miss you every day ole man!

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Many of you have stood by me in the happy and sad times, the lighter and darker times, and through the good and the bad and even ugly times. For that I thank you. And I encourage you to watch this video that says it all so well.

Stand By Me

Love, peace and grace, Dr. D

Meet Logan - A Young Man Wise Beyond His Years

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley --Many of you probably have already seen or heard this report about the 13-year old fellow named Logan that called into the local radio station and explained what "God had told him" - if you haven't I recommend you take a few minutes and watch this short clip. I am always moved by the wisdom that often come from those so young.

Love, peace and grace,

Dr. Darryl

Update on Lt. Col. Ty Edwards

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- Kay wrote up this summary to post all our friends and family following our visit to see Ty yesterday at the VA Hospital in Tampa. ---Darryl

Hi all,

After our Space Day event this week, Darryl and I and our friend/colleague Penelope were able to spend about an hour with Ty and Tommy was there with him at the VA hospital. It was a wonderful time, and great to see the significant progress he has made, and continues to make. This time he clearly recognized me, and said he remembered my visit in Bethesda (when I didn't think he knew me), but said he just couldn't communicate then. I know it had looked like he was working hard, and I thought it was to try to piece together who I was -- evidently it was to communicate.

He also said he didn't recognize Darryl, but thought the last time he had seen him was at W.L.'s funeral (which is exactly correct), and asked if he had been Special Forces (which they had talked about at that time). Amazing, eh?

And he seemed glad to meet Penelope (as I said when I introduced them - I knew he would enjoy meeting a pretty lady - and we all got good smiles from that).

His communication skills are remarkable. He still hesitates over picking out words, and spitting out a name like Penelope required work for him, but he knew what he was trying to say, and got it out with a little time.

When we arrived, he was sitting at his computer, in his wheel chair. He had received an answer to his first email, sent to Hakimi (his Afghani interpreter and friend, and who also saved his life). So he seemed to be glad to be back in action on the computer. His left hand has good control, it seems, and that's how he motivates his chair.

His left leg has begun to work better and better. He can lift it (he has good and improving core body strength). He has better days and less good days working on the walking machine. I guess his hip on the left side has increasing flexibility. His right side is still not cooperating, leg or arm. However, he begins water therapy this week, and that is hopefully going to allow all the parts to get more fluid (no pun intended), and start getting some control in a more easily facilitated way. So they seemed very eager to get that therapy underway.

I didn't realize it until afterward, but saw that there was no longer a catheter, so that tells me he has control there too, I assume. Another miracle!

Tommy was staying there with them, and Debbie was in B'town making sure that Inez and M.C. were getting fed.

Tommy said they eat if it's put in front of them. I spoke with Anna and they have had company 3 times this week, and Mason was getting his soccer photo done on Saturday, so they have been staying busy.

Ty was showing us pictures of various folks he's met, and his recall amazes me. He did remember all the folks that came by in Bethesda, celebrities and friends/family alike. He was aware the President Bush asked to hug his pretty wife (smile).

I mentioned his new friendship with our other cousin John/Jake Miller, and he smiled and said what a great person he is, and how he enjoyed his regular weekend visits in Bethesda. I mentioned Jane's visit too, and he struggled to remember that. Tommy said it was while he was still in intensive care, and that's the reason he didn't recall her. He seemed disappointed not to be able to recall that, but looked forward to meeting her and their great family addition - Suzanna.

He recalled all the Miller side of his family, asking where everyone was and what they were doing, and saying please say hello to everyone. I told him when they got ready for a road trip, to please come to Kentucky, and I knew Mason would enjoy fishing at the lake, and playing in the woods. I hope that can happen one day soon!

He spoke of his wonderful Anna, and said she was making the ultimate sacrifice .... taking him to an Auburn Alumni gathering there in Tampa! Ha.

Ty also wanted to show us his 'skull'. He has a plastic model of his head -- what bones are there now, and where the bullet entered. It's astonishing he's alive! And to have made such progress is a pure gift from God. That will make some 'show-and-tell' for the kids to bring to school!

Ty's spirits seemed great, and he was eager to do all the hard work it takes to get better, and better, and better. It was a blessing to we three to be able to experience his joy of life and gifts from God.

I asked if there was anything in the world he wanted or needed, and he said no. They all seem to be doing well.

Love to you all,

Kay

We Will Miss You and I Will Always Regret Not Having the Opportunity

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- If the rumors I have just heard this evening are true - and they are still rumors but seem to be based in fact - one of my old high school friends and chums from the 60s is dead. The stories vary, however, it seems he may have taken his own life.

As someone who has struggled with depression all his life, I can attest to the horrible state of mind it can and does put you into and without relief what it can lead to. I have been to the point of having to lock away the gun from the bullets because I feared what I would do if they were easily accessible. I am thankful that most of those days are in the distant past and yet I am always alert to the old "Black Dog" as Sir Winston Churchill called the malady sneaking upon me.

Depression is one of the most insidious and meanness afflictions Man has ever had to deal with.

It is with much regret and a deep sadness that I have heard of this and had no idea that my friend could have needed help. I have not seen him in over 40-years but did hear about him now and then since we moved back to Kentucky.

I would have given anything to have sat him down and listened.

Sometimes my friends that is truly all we need. Good listeners are hard to find. Don't pass up the opportunity if it is presented to you.

The following story that came about in December 1996, hard to believe it was now 13-years ago, sums up some of my feelings.

Love, peace and grace to my friends' family and to all of you.

Dr. D.

We Will Miss You Billy Boy

Yesterday I attended the funeral of my first cousin William Chalmers Dorn Jr. Billy to almost

everyone.

Billy was thirty-seven-years-old and hadn't lost an ounce of baby fat since he was born. What he

had lost, nine months ago, was 85% of his skin in a freakish flash fire that happened when he was outside

burning some leaves. For the same amount of time it takes a human life to be born, the ghost that Billy had

become crept quietly toward the light.

First, for the longest time, in a coma in a burn unit in Paducah, Kentucky; then, for a much shorter

time, in the ironically named Bryan Dorn VA Hospital in Louisville. Finally, after coming out of his coma long

enough to say he hoped he hadn't caused his mother too much worry, The Captain told this former Coast

Guard sailor to "Stand down..." Last Sunday Billy died.

Billy is the oldest child and the only son of Chalmers and Jeanne Dorn. Chalmers is my mother's

brother. Chalmers has always intimidated me, at least until the last several years. Chalmers was an MP in

the military before joining the City Police Force. Chalmers is a big burly man who maintains the

steeliest eye contact I have ever seen and tends to twitch in an imperceptible way even when he is at "rest";

in short, he gives the impression of restrained violence.

In the late 60's, three things happened to Chalmers: Jeanne gave birth to twins that both died within

a day, his father, my grandfather, died, and he was thrown off a third story fire escape during a race riot and

landed on his back on a nail. After that, Chalmers was never the same man.

Jeanne is a part Indian school teacher who is the best cook I have ever known. She is, if there ever

was one, an earth mother. When she smiles, you see the sun coming up over the fields. When she

welcomes you into her home, you know she means it. When she moves her largish frame around the

kitchen, getting this or that dish of beans laced with fatback or plate of coconut cake ready for the table, you

know she is really thinking about you the whole time. When she breathes, Chalmers is glad to be alive.

The last time I saw Chalmers and Jeanne, which was years ago, they took me to a local stock car

race. Chalmers loves cars. He buys a new one every year. Because he used to be a cop, Chalmers enjoys

the largesse of his fellow police officers.

Nevertheless, on the way to the races, Jeanne said, "Chalmers, you're going too slow," and took

the wheel. After that, we spent more time in the median than we did in the road and passed several

patrolmen who simply waved at us before we slid into the dirt area behind the pits at the race track. I never

saw the race. I passed out from exhaustion at the race getting to the race. I dunno who won.

Jeanne and Chalmers' two other children, Beth and Jeannie Marie, are indescribably beautiful. Beth is

married to an almost stereotypical big hunk of a man who never seems to be unhappy from Georgia;

together, they have four children, one of whom, Lisa, at age thirteen, has her black belt and wants to be an

astrophysicist. Jeannie Marie, who is short like my grandmother, married a man who is roughly her height

and has one child. Jeannie Marie looks like Pocahontas.

Billy never married. He liked girls, he told my aunt, but he was too shy. After he left the Coast Guard, he

came back home to live with his parents and got a job as a security guard. His real job was to look after his

parents and his sisters.

Sometimes he and Chalmers farmed. Chalmers was once a big farmer, two thousand acres. Soy

beans mostly. Billy did most of the work. But mostly he lived with Chalmers and Jeanne.

Once, in the middle of winter, Jeannie Marie needed a typewriter ribbon to finish a paper she was

doing for a graphics design class she was taking at a local technical college. Billy drove her downtown in

his truck and along the way hit a sheet of ice that caused him to skid down a street and hit several cars in

the process. When the truck came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, Billy immediately got out of the truck

and called the police.

When the policeman arrived, he asked Billy, "Why didn't you just keep going?" Billy, irate, replied,

"They're someones' cars!"

The most moving part of the funeral for me was when they folded the American flag on Billy's

mahogany coffin and handed it to his mother. The man who folded it, who must have been burying people

before I was born, folded the flag with such great care I got goose bumps.

It must have taken him five minutes. Religiously he smoothed out every crease and made every

turn and then very very patiently waited for his young assistant to make the final tuck perfect before he

handed the field of stars to my aunt and whispered something to her that I couldn't hear. While he did this, I

had flashes of Americans landing against impossible odds at Normandy and Confederate soldiers going

over the top at Cemetery Ridge and Billy in the Coast Guard rescuing an eight-year-old on a catamaran that

his mother shouldn't have rented for him.

Billy was a big boy, although not as big as his father. He had a great smile and to the best of my

knowledge he never hurt anyone. In particular, he loved animals and children.

I never pushed Billy around when we were children because he giggled too much. Billy never got

married. He was too shy.

Rest in Peace, Billy Boy.

Rest in Peace.

10-7

December 4, 1996

"I'm Cured" - Kind of Sorta ....

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- Have you ever met a fellow and just knew from the outset you would be good friends? Such was the case when I met my buddy Matt Figert. It has been a while since I had a hunting, running, drinking and shooting buddy and certainly a while since I had a friend with as weird a sense of humor as I have.

My old pal Doug, as many of you will recall, got killed in a car accident a few years ago. One of the toughest eulogies I have ever delivered was at his services attended by law enforcement officers from across Tennessee and a most humbling experience to hear Amazing Grace played on the bag pipes followed by the lonely words that "Doug Bailey has gone 10-7." Doug was like a brother to me. He actually got me out of my shell from the loss of my dear old friend Bert Ballard and had me enjoying shooting and hanging out again.

When Doug died I kind of went back into the shell I am known to occupy from time to time in my life. I kept on "chopping wood and hauling water" but with little joy.

Then along came John - er I mean Matt.

A retired CPO and now a resident expert on an offshore oil rig, Matt and his wife Janette became fast friends. Matt liked good food and a variety of books, wine, beer, hard liquor, dogs and guns. He enjoyed deer hunting and breakfast at Miss Peggy's! Who was I to question the Universe? What more could you ask for in a good buddy?

So, when Matt sent me this cartoon it resonated.

This week I had a sonogram of one of those male body parts we don't speak of and having gone to a urologist now for four years I have come to appreciate the humiliation of stirrups and probes that women have long gone through.

The sonogram was fine. The blood tests are fine. The exam went as usual - it sucked. However, I have once again come through another year cancer free.

Am I "cured"? Well that is still to be determined but then I just couldn't resist sharing this cartoon with you as it so aptly sums up my feelings.

Kay and I will be off to work in Florida next week, I will be home for a day and then head to Iowa and Arizona. However, I will stay in touch as best I can.

Enjoy my friends. Simper Fi, De Oppresso Liber, God Bless America and yes Nancy, BHO and Harry those "Tea Parties" are for real and we are serious!

Love peace and grace,

Dr. D

Easter With The Family - A Favorite Time Of The Year For My Mother

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- Easter was always a special time of the year for my Mother. Being a good southern cook and loving blooming flowers of spring time, she always looked forward to laying out a big dinner spread and having all her family over to enjoy the day. For many years I bought her a corsage for the day and in later years would send her flowers. Easter was the new beginning of the new year for Mother. It was the resurrection of life in more ways than just the Christian view. Easter meant to her that it was time to start her gardening and tend her flowers. I have missed her more at Easter and Christmas than most other times because it was at these times she expressed her joy for life.

This year Kay and I were invited over to Marvin and Cathy's for Easter dinner with some of my Mother's remaining cousins. This is that celebration in picture and music. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed producing it.

Love, peace and grace,

Dr. Darryl

Never Ever Judge A Book By It's Cover!

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- As many of you know I was raised by my Great Aunt Anzie. Aunt Anzie was a full-bloodied Cherokee old maid of a woman whom I cherished deeply and still do. A large woman with long gray and white hair that she so carefully placed into braids each day as she told us stories sitting on her front porch, I can remember her always saying "Never, ever judge a book by its cover." And here my friends on this You Tube video is why that admonishment is so important. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did and best wishes Susan Boyle may all your dreams come true!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Love, peace and grace, Dr. Darryl

Happy Easter - 2009

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- When God created dogs and bunny rabbits she must have had a smile on her face. Sending you our blessings and best wishes that on this special holy day for Christians that you find the time to enjoy all of God's creations and smile just a little.

Love, peace and grace,

Dr. D, Kay and "The Boys" - Max and Little Bit

Life on Lake Barkley After The Ice Storm of the Decade

Here is what our front yard looks like from the hot tub area of the cabin

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- We are so grateful that life at Lake Barkley is slowly getting back to some resemblance of normality yet it will never be the same here. Our lot down to the lake has about 41 piles of brush to be burned or hauled off and we have another 30 plus trees that will have to be removed.

It is as if some giant's kid got mad and went through the neighborhood just snapping the tops out of every tree. None came through unharmed and yet the redbuds and dogwoods are slowly blooming now.

Today, we had severe storms. A tornado touched down in the northern part of the county. Two injured and a mobile home destroyed. This my friends is spring time in Kentucky. Stay around long enough up here and you get any kind of weather you could want.

Since today is Good Friday we send all our friends and colleagues best wishes for Easter. We hope you have a safe and enjoyable weekend with all your families.

Love, peace and grace, Dr. D

Cleaning up the 'hood - 67 volunteers and 2500 lbs of trash!

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- I am often asked: "Why do you enjoy your work?" after all it is very stressful at times; you never seem to "get away" from it all; and sometimes the folks you deal with can be very difficult and at other times just downright delightful.

Delightful, energetic, committed, fun-loving, and focused were all the folks we worked with to help the Hawthorne Civic Association to clean up their neighborhood recently.

So, I wanted to take all those pictures I took and put them into an enjoyable format so you could see for yourselves why we enjoy our work. Thanks Doug, Lil, Chuck, Pat and Ed for including us and all the Lockheed Martin and contractor volunteers.

Enjoy:

When You Know You Have Friends - Bert Ballard 1929-2002

Brother Bert Ballard, Brother Jim Suitor, and Me

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- My ole buddy Bert Ballard (Sept. 30, 1929 - March 25, 2002) is sorely missed. Bert and I were friends from the first day we met and shared a beer at the old Holiday Inn in Bardstown.

Older than me, Bert was that older Brother I always wanted but he also served as a mentor, hunting buddy and sometimes a Father figure. We went through our divorces together and I had the privilege of being able to spend a year of Thursdays with Bert while he was in Hospice care.

I credit the old man with saving my own life when he sternly pointed out to me to never ever take blood in your urine lightly. Bert died from complications of bladder cancer.

Bert dished out some good advice over the years. Some of it hard to take at times. He believed you probably truly only loved one woman ever in your life and that most men had unrequited love in their hearts. He and I shared the belief that you never sit with your back to the door.

That southern gentlemen were always gentlemen, irrespective of the situation. That dogs will almost always die before you do and your heart will be broken by it. That the only good Bourbon was Kentucky Bourbon and to stay away from anything else. He razed me alot about liking Scotch as much as Bourbon but that was okay, because he was my buddy.

Bert and I hunted together for 30-years in Alabama, Kentucky and Georgia and I use the term "hunting" lightly since many years our idea of the sport was to go to the woods and watch and listen and never take a shot. But we always ate and drank well. We always told the same stories so they must have been true.

When Bert finally decided there would be no more chemotherapy, this occurred after his daughter Julie preceded him in death from breast cancer, I decided that I could not allow him to just go gently into the night. So, every Thursday I would trek to Bardstown and in the early stages of the dying process we would go to lunch and for a drive and come back for cocktails around 4 p.m.

We would tell some of the same stories. He would show me his old home place and talk about his childhood and his days as the general manager of the Stephen Foster Story. He would brag on his kids and sometimes cry about the loss of his daughter. Some days we would "plink" with his old .22 or .38 and some days we would just sit quietly and be with each other.

As the time grew nearer I sat down and wrote the following letter. I share it with you because I believe that we owe it to those we love and believe in to tell them that. So many times we forget that life has no guarantees and that the next minute could be our last.

This is what I wrote to my best friend. Maybe in some way it will inspire you to sit down and write a letter to your best friend. I hope so. They are few and far between and are so very precious.

February 8, 2002

My dear Brother Bert,

To simply tell you I am grateful for the shotgun would be an understatement. However, I really don’t like the conditions under which I am having to accept it.

It seems just like yesterday that we met at the Holiday Inn during one of the travel show planning meetings. I recall afterwards we escaped and had a beer with Dawn Ford and some other folks. That was 30-years ago.

The time has flown by. I knew from that day that we would be good friends. I never had any idea that you would end up being my very best friend, confidante, and most dependable hunting buddy.

Ah, the times we have shared. And I guess that is what saddens me. To think that we won’t get to create any more of those memories. But what wonderful memories they are. I will always cherish them. And as long as my mind stays in tact, I will always be able to take them out and recall them with as much fondness as the days and nights we created them.

Some of my earliest memories are of you and Hank Lindsey and me. Working the Cincy travel show, meeting Miss Mississippi, and you guys trying to drop me off with some old broad that was strolling the sidewalk in the wee hours of the morning!

Then there was the days of the go-go girls and the old soul singer in the cabaret that we went to that was a hospital theme. Remember that one? They used bed pans to pass around pretzels. But you may remember she had a voice and moves like a 30-year old.

Hell, she had to be 90 if she was a day.

There was the days of the peanut bar in the old Hilton. The time we got snowed in in Cincy and Cleveland and probably other places that I forget.

There was the Milwaukee trip where we ate raw hamburger, red onion slices, on a piece of bread and drank cold Pabst beer. There were the St. Patty Day parades and the two of us cold as could be bundled up and leaning back to back to hold each other up after a night of drinking.

Then there was the year of being on the wagon. Remember when we carried our root beer wherever we went? Most people didn’t think we could do it. But we did. I recall having to do it to prove to myself that I didn’t have to wake up in a city and not know which city I was in. I got tired of looking for phone books to remind me of the town I had slept in the night before.

There were the musical rooms on nights when snow and ice was so deep no one could travel, or at least shouldn’t have. Then there was the infamous Indy night when Dawn Ford played room arranger and none of us except you ended up in the proper room!

There were the antics with Brother Jim in Indy and East St. Louis. And yet, we all got out alive, God surely protects children and fools!

There were all the opening nights and your hospitality to all of us all those years. Of course, after the first two times of watching “The Story” I looked forward to just sitting in the office with my Bro. And having a drink and laughing and clowning around as we often did.

There were the AAA tours and the bartending, baggage carrying and always the promoting of our properties and the dances and meals and busses. Through it all you maintained your good humor.

Remember our writers’ tours and you guiding for me? I never told them you weren’t from Lake Barkley. I just told them all they had one of the best damn guides and he happened to be my best friend.

They all seemed okay with that. And you even caught some fish!

Remember those scary houseboat rides at night on Lake Cumberland and Lake Barkley?

And then there were all our hunting trips. I will miss them the most. Alabama and then Georgia and finally Kentucky. All those years of Daddy Paul and Mrs. Reed and Mrs. Nixon. Then Brother Jim had to screw it up killing the largest deer ever taken off their property and not telling them before someone else did!

The years we got deer and the years we didn’t. It never really mattered to me. It was about having time with my best friend that mattered.

I am so grateful you could hunt this year although I know it had to be tiring on you. I will forever be grateful for that though and for Elmer’s stand building abilities.

Some of my friends have never understood that it wasn’t about hunting. It was about being together as friends. Spending timing catching up and laughing and talking and drinking and playing cards and cooking meals and sitting in deer stands watching squirrels.

You have been more than just a friend of mine Bert. You have truly been my best friend.

You hung in there with me through all of it. The good and the bad. You stayed beside me when I went through the Rebecca and Judy thing. You were still there after I screwed them up and had foolishly broken my heart more than once.

You were there when Kay came into the scene and you were there when David and Dad died.

You have been here for the July 4th celebrations and the fireworks. And to think you won’t be here for those is really very difficult for me.

You were more than just a friend to me Bert. You taught me a great deal about marketing and tourism. I thank you for that. You and Bill Knight and Ray Scott took me under your wings and helped me learn from some real professionals. I am appreciative.

You are the big brother I never had. The Father that paid me more attention than my own Dad. You are my running buddy, my hunting buddy, my mentor, my touchstone.

If there was anything I could do other than pray I would. Yet, I must confess that I prayed lots in 1991 and those prayers were answered for eleven more years. God was good to us. I think he understood from my prayers that I just couldn’t stand to loose you then. He comforted me as he comforts you now. Through his grace I shared eleven more years of your friendship. I am so grateful for that.

I pray that there will be a miracle. That something will happen and reverse all this yet I am realistic and I understand the reality. I just don’t want you to suffer and I do want you to know how much I love you.

I will never forget you. Your shotgun will always hang in a special place in my cabin. Every time I look at it will recall our fun times together.

And if you can Bro. Please stop by now and then. Put your hand on my shoulder or hug me in that way you hug so well. Whisper to me when I get too far afield - I will listen hard.

I have told a few people about this but not many. The evening after we buried Weldon Petty I was en route to Chattanooga. I had Weldon and Sue Weller on my mind. I don’t know if I said it out loud or not but I said something to the effect of “Sue if you and Weldon are okay give me a sign that I can’t miss.”

Just about that time I topped Monteagle and was heading down when the biggest, brightest explosion I have ever seen in the sky happened. I thought a plane had blown up. I rushed into Chattanooga and stopped at the Tennessee Patrol station just outside of town to report what I had seen. They had heard about it already. They said no planes had gone down. No explanation.

The news later that night said NASA nor NORAD had an explanation but thought it was probably space junk.

Then it dawned on me that Sue and Weldon probably sat back in Heaven and chuckled to themselves. I am convinced that was a sign from them.

If you can let me know you are okay when you pass over. Don’t scare me. Just comfort me. You don’t have to do explosions. Just an overwhelming feeling of you hugging me will be okay.

I love you Bro. I always will. I will be up to see you later this week.

Love, peace and grace your younger more handsome Brother,

Darryl