Fishing Adventure

Rarely, if ever, does a fishing trip with Gordon Sansing, Lee Gordon, and Jim Hess turnout to be simply a day at the lake. Instead, that which was first conceived as a day or two of fun and relaxation oft becomes an adventure not entirely dissimilar to that of Easterners, who, fired with the "pioneer spirit, made their way westward across the plains often pushing to the west coast of early America.

Those who migrated west sold or forsook most of their possessions in order to lighten the prairie schooners that held supplies and food-stores needed for their long journey. Groups sometimes traveled caravan-style in what was called a wagon train, and each wagon train had a wagon master who led the group to a specific destination. It was not uncommon for them to experience breakdowns such as broken axels or wheels, and even with a wagon master they sometimes made bad choices as to the best route to reach their destination. For the settlers and prospectors, once they left their homes in the east, every day was an adventure. In our case, adventure occurred almost hourly, not just daily.

For our spring fishing trip, "wagon master" Jim Hess arranged for our accommodations at Central Hills Baptist Retreat near Kosciusko, Mississippi, where we planned to fish for two days. Since our respective homes are in most every direction relative to Kosciusko, we didn’t have the opportunity to form a modern wagon train. However, Lee Gordon invited me to ride with him from West Point in a gesture aimed more toward companionship than fuel savings.

"Yeah, if you want to drop off your car at my house, we can go in my truck to Central Hills," Lee shared in a phone conversation a few days before our departure. "I’m taking my two-man boat. That way, we’ll both have somebody to talk to." Continue reading>>

Bowdoin Bunch

For those on a budget, Bowdoin College of Brunswick, Maine is no bargain. With tuition at $36, 370/yr., and room and board another $9,890/yr., a mom and dad might easily spend $200,000 for a son or daughter’s education. Still, it should be noted that Bowdoin is routinely rated among the top ten Liberal Arts colleges in the United States, which should offer some reassurance to parents that theirs is money well spent.

According to Wikipedia, an editable online encyclopedia, Bowdoin College can lay claim to several noteworthy graduates that include U.S. President Franklin Pierce, two laudable literary authors, Hawthorne and Longfellow, and Supreme Court Chief Justice, Thomas Brackett Reed. Though less famous, Hodding Carter II, founder of the Delta Democrat-Times in Greenville, Mississippi, is also a graduate.
For three consecutive years, a dozen students per year from Bowdoin College have participated in Habitat for Humanity’s Collegiate Challenge, answering the call to serve their fellowman by volunteering to help build housing for Pontotoc County Habitat for Humanity. While none of these students have achieved national fame or recognition, I can envision it happening. Though their respective volunteer efforts may not be regarded as noteworthy on the national scale, surely their achievements are remembered here in Pontotoc, and it’s reasonable to assume the seeds of service sown here will one day bear fruit.

Group photographs of the Bowdoin volunteers adorn the walls of the local affiliate for Habitat for Humanity, International. Additionally, digital images of these volunteers working at various jobsites and of their enjoyment of evening meals provided by civic groups, churches, and ndividuals during their stay in Pontotoc roll across the monitor of the affiliate’s computer when in screen-saver mode. Selected photographs of each Bowdoin group can be viewed on the website of Ridge Rider News. Habitat homeowners, grateful for the work on their homes, have visual images of the volunteers that will be remembered long after the student volunteers have returned to campus.

My role with Pontotoc County Habitat for Humanity is a small one. I’m "Mr. Barbara Carter," husband of the Executive Director as well as the unofficial photographer at the functions I am privileged to attend. So, in a sense, I, too, am a volunteer. Continue reading>>

Ring Back

In returning my college ring to the manufacturer, I had doubts the original warranty would be honored for I previously had the ring resized by a jeweler. However, I proceeded with Plan A and asked Barbara to fill in the blanks of the form where legible writing was needed, and I found a mailer in the computer room to use for express mailing.

I printed a copy of the addresses, one for a Post Office Box and the other one the physical address needed by Fed-X, UPS, or other national couriers. I had bolded the text for the physical address, thinking surely my wife would interpret the bold print as my preferred mailing method. That, and the fact I asked her to insure the package and retain the tracking information left me feeling fairly confident all would be well. Of course, my mistake was in providing a choice.

I left on a business trip and phoned her that evening to check in and asked about the package.

"I took it to the Museum Post Office," she shared. "And, I sent it U.S. Mail."

My heart sank.

"You sent it by U.S. Mail," I seethed in silence, "to be handled by folks that sometimes ‘go postal,’ who lose envelopes on a regular basis, misdirect mail, deliver to the wrong address, etc. You sent it by U.S. Mail?"

And, I kept the tracking information," she assured.

Returning home a few days later, Barbara handed me the postal receipt. I didn’t understand how the Post Office could track my package, but I surely couldn’t by using their online service.

I shared my dilemma with my wife who quietly pointed out, "Mae said the Post Office could verify it reached the proper destination. That’s all I know."

I comforted myself with thoughts that the insurance was sufficient to cover the cost of the ring if mine should be lost. But, in hindsight and with the current price of gold on the world market, I doubt four hundred dollars would cover half the cost of a new ring. Continue reading>>

Class Rings - Education Imagery

As far back as I can remember
I’ve esteemed class rings, whether they were high school rings or college
rings. Perhaps, it was the influence of my uncles, Earl Carter and Lamar
Carter, who each held college degrees at a time when symbols of educational achievement in the Carter family were rare, that birthed my admiration for class rings.
Neither of my Carter grandparents finished high school. Hayden Carter’s father died when Hayden was perhaps seven or eight, so he was needed to help with the family’s livelihood, farming. Hayden’s formal education probably ended before the fifth grade. My grandmother’s father died at age fifty. Becky may have completed the seventh or eighth grade before she also had to drop out of school to help work the family farm.
My dad didn’t graduate high school, though he doubtless would have had he not, in his senior year, had a falling out with a teacher, who wouldn’t accept a paper he’d written as his work. My grandfather thought he could convince Dad to return to school by working him extra hard on the family farm. Dad admitted the next several weeks were the hardest of his life, but his determination to spite the teacher prevailed. If Dad ever regretted his decision to drop out of school, he never shared it with me.
Mom had dropped out of school even earlier than Dad and didn’t finish the eighth grade. Instead at sixteen, she and Dad married. The following year, my older brother was born and over the next twenty years three more children arrived, with each of us finding slightly better living conditions than our sibling predecessor. None of us experienced anything like a childhood
lived in affluence, but we were loved and cared for and given the best our parents could afford.
In my youth, there were more opportunities for me to be around my Uncle Earl than Dad’s younger brother, Lamar. Uncle Earl had settled in Senatobia, MS, but Uncle Lamar found work in Venezuela more to his liking. Since leaving Venezuela, Uncle Lamar has made New York City his home, where consulting has provided him opportunities to "see the world." So, when it came to seeing class rings in my family, I saw Uncle Earl’s more than Uncle Lamar’s.
Having so few family members with class rings made the arrival of my high school ring a memorable occasion. How I talked my Dad out of the thirty-five dollars that was needed to purchase the ring, I no longer remember, but in 1959, thirty-five dollars was a lot of money. Continue reading>>

Gaither Concert - Leaving There

This is the concluding article of the three
events (getting there, being there, and leaving there) associated with the Gaither Concert in Tupelo, on February 9, 2008.

At ten-fifteen p.m. my thoughts of the three of us going out to dinner at a nice restaurant in Tupelo had long vanished, and my thoughts were more occupied with finding a restaurant open at ten-thirty. We had a late afternoon sweet snack before going to the Gaither concert, and we planned to eat following the concert. But first, Barbara and I had to get Miss Virginia down the steep steps of the mezzanine seating, down two flights of stairs, and select a pick up point as close to the arena as possible.

Church busses were lined up alongside the building for quite a distance in spots that would be perfect for me to utilize if only I could get my car through the maze of vehicles whose movements to exit the parking lots reminded me of fire ants spilling out of their mound in search of whatever or whomever might have disturbed it. Vehicles were moving in most every direction away from the arena.

Walking to my car, I wondered how I’d ever get back to where I needed to pick up Barbara and Miss Virginia. It actually took less time than I had imagined as most everyone was jockeying for an exit line, and I was among the few trying to get closer to the arena. I made a few aggressive maneuvers, slipping across empty parking spaces and through gaps of vehicles in exit lanes and was soon near where I’d left Barbara and Miss Virginia. I gave up on them spotting me, so I got out of the car and was half-way to an entrance/exit when they finally saw me.

Both side streets that parallel the arena were packed with vehicles as was every parking exit feeding into one of the side streets. However, almost nobody was using a major exit that passed through the parking area of the Hilton Garden Inn and onto West Main. I figure I saved us a good ten or fifteen minutes by taking the less traveled route.

"Let’s find a restaurant," I gleefully stated once we were out of the parking lot, "I’ve got a handicap-dangler on my rearview mirror, and I’m anxious to park in a handicapped parking space."

"I-Hop is probably open," someone suggested, and given the limited choices of twenty-four hour restaurants, it was fine with me. Continue reading>>