Blessed Be the Ties

"The moment I wake up,
before I put on my make up,
I say a little prayer for you!"

Thanks Aretha!

This morning when I heard that song I thought of my Mom. I can imagine that statement is true for her as she starts her day; it would never surprise me to find out that she said a prayer for my Dad, my sister and me; and others I am sure. That's my Mom. Ever caring, always loyal, unbelievably wise, and almost perfect; I am reluctant to use almost.

Sunday I am sure my family will rally around to celebrate her birthday. As I will not be able to be there, I would like to say a few things about her and moms in general in today's blog.

We never really understand the amount of sacrifices that Moms and Dads make as we are growing up. The things they do to make our lives better. Mom dotted every "i" and crossed every "t" when it came to that. She and my Dad got married in 1974 and started their family. I proud to say that today my sister is truly my best friend and Mom and Dad certainly had a role in that. Our family bond is strong and necessary. We know that we can lean on each other when a shoulder is needed and celebrate when there are times to be proud.

Over the years we have shared my Mom with the students in our community. She has touched children's lives for twenty five or more years, whether in the office or in the classroom, kids always smile for Mrs. Storms.

My mouth waters thinking about meals at our house, but not just the meals! The time our family spends in the kitchen is certainly quality time.

The constant nurturer Mom, has not only been there for Shannon, Dad, and Me, but our entire family. Without fail she could be counted on.

Today I smiled when I heard that song..."I say a little prayer for you...,"

And not just about the little prayers, but just thinking about Mom. What a privilege it is to know that you are thought of and loved. I won't be there to see her blow out the candles this year but my thoughts will be with her and the rest of my dear family on her day! And just so everyone knows...I say those little prayers too.

Readers keep your fingers crossed that when she blows out the candles this year her wish comes true! She deserves it!

My Buddy

Knowledge is power. Right?

Well, that's a good thing, I guess. Depending on what type of power it may be.

Regardless, I once knew a man that knew a lot. His brain was like an encyclopedia of knowledge. Powered by the likes of the Wall Street Journal, American Heritage, H.G. Wells, a plethora of local papers, books, books, books and life. He was really gifted.

His name was John, but everyone called him Buddy. Don't ask me why, I never heard that part of the story. Regardless, he was born in 1918 and had one of the most vivid perceptions of the Great Depression that I had access to.

Buddy's father died when he was only a baby and he, his mother and his sister managed just as everyone did in those days. His Grandfather Cash was a business man in Dawson Springs and he had a lot of influence on his younger years as well as his Uncle Clyde Woodruff, who made a very lasting impact on Buddy.

The man knew all sorts of stories about characters in Dawson Springs. He knew stories that went deep into the history of the town. He was a great story teller. In fact a good deal of the information that I know today, about my hometown, came from Buddy. I spent many Sunday afternoons entertained by him. He had served in World War II aboard the Leary, if my memory serves me correctly, a destroyer. He was on the deck when the flag went up over Iwo Jima; and such were the kinds of historical things he knew all about and took part in too.

This is the person that made me interested in reading. He had subscriptions to an uncommonly high amount of magazines and newspapers, at least compared to anyone else I knew. He read all the time and was constantly up to date on current affairs and revisited history. Somewhere around the time that I turned sixteen he began sharing these magazines with me from week to week. I learned quickly that I should read them since the next week that would be the topic of discussion. I learned a great deal from those sessions of back and forth. Today I am still reading some of the same publications that he subscribed to then.

Buddy worked at the New Century Hotel, in Dawson Spring, during the 1930s. He remembered the town when it was in it's heyday. He worked his way up from a bellman, who bellowed out "New Century" as the trains rolled into the depot, to an assistant to the owner(manager). The owner also had a great deal of influence on Buddy in those days. An outside voice who knew what was beyond the horizon, so to speak. Before the War this man left Dawson Springs to start up a new hotel in Florida. Buddy had been such a great help to him that he urged Buddy to join him with the idea of making a fortune. But that was not for Buddy, he thought he could make his own.

Buddy worked for the United States Postal Service for thirty years or more. He started out as a substitute carrier and took every test he could and was eventually promoted to Postal Inspector. He spent his working years in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

In the 1970s upon retirement he lingered back to Dawson Springs and later married my Nannie, Brunette Franklin, after the death of my Grandfather Decola. Everyone that knew Buddy was aware of the fact that he was a wise man and no one knew, or appreciated that more than me. There were times that I didn't know what he was exposing me to because I was too young or naive even. But as life rolls out I often revert back to ideas or history that he has shared with me. All along he was opening a door to me, a door to knowledge, and as I said before: knowledge is power.

Buddy passed away at the age of eighty four. I won't go so far as to say anything about Buddy making a fortune or anything like that. However I am really glad that he didn't take that job in Florida, if he did he might not have made it back in time to be my Grandfather. And it just wouldn't have been the same without him.

Oh, the Good Life!

"Somethings lost and somethings gained, in living every day." ~Joni Mitchell, Both Sides Now

Life, through it's seasons produce people that help us along the way. We are born into families and are schooled with friends. At each phase we are exposed to those that can help our journey to be beautiful and unique.

That is one of the reasons why I am writing these blogs. The people and places that I write about have had direct impacts on my life, my thoughts, my feelings and the paths that I have taken. In a subliminal effort to memorialize these folks, it seems as if they don't go away. But unfortunately they do.

The people that we start the journey with us do not always make it to the end of ours. Sadly, that is life. However, that doesn't mean we can't talk about them. It doesn't imply that we can't write about them either. I always have mixed feelings about telling so many stories about my family and about my hometown and it's angles. Regardless, I can never stop myself from thinking about the people and places of my life.

There are those that I only knew for a couple of hours, bar stool to bar stool, and there were those that I have known my whole life through. No matter how long the period of time, there have been countless people that have tweaked my perceptions. There have been so many folks that made me feel strong, or kind, or good. Unfortunately there are also people who bring you down...but not many.

People, people, people!

Love them and know them. You will find it to be a drug you will always need. A company you would always want to keep. A story to forever tell. And while we're on this journey we can only hope that we will be memorable too. That we too will make lasting impacts and share insights of life that live on. We should hope and pray that our life is one that is good enough to survive through some other persons stories and memories. That's LIFE! That's what we live for. Touching people and inspiring them through our own loves and enthusiasm about this daily blessing that we get to chance live.

What is Success?
Ralph Waldo Emerson

"To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one’s self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived—this is to have succeeded."

A Poem

{Dreams are usually there when we turn out the lights and our minds start to shut down. No matter how much we learn about them we are always left with the mystery of their importance. Why do we dream about certain people or certain things?

I hope that you do not see this blog as creepy or odd. But only as an expression of my own thoughts. In my family there have been several Poets. My Grandfather Edward E. Storms has written many beautiful poems. Also my Great-Great Aunt Agnes Teague Cunningham wrote many wonderful poems before she died. My Aunts Marcy and Judy have often dabbled in poetry as well. These people give me the courage to express my thoughts in this way. In the future with their permission I might share some family poetry and other prose with my own take on their imagery. Have a good day!}


All through the night the rain pittered and pattered,
and through all my dreams the water too splattered.

If only as if the land there was real too,
a land of the mind, so strange but not new.

All through the dream I wonder about.
Talking to people, with meaning, with clout.

And through out our lives what do all these dreams mean?
Are they thoughts or just sludge, should they ever be seen?

All through our life we live like a ballad.
The ups and the downs have meaning, have triumphs.

We travel down roads that are dark and are scary.
But later on streets that are easy to terry.

And none like the ones that we see in our dreams.
And none as confusing if we don't know the meanings.

Here's hoping that more dreams are happy than sad,
and praying the good ones out weigh the bad.

But never to ask for these dreams to stop!
For they tell us a story on that side of the clock.

If only we knew, are they our words or Gods.
Or merely our minds working, when we start to nod.

Here Comes the Sun!

Yesterday was a beautiful day!

Even if it was only a glimpse of what good times and good weather is to come it was well received. Austin always amazes me and yesterday I saw that our fair city has not one but two personalities…at least!

The past few months have been wet, cold and gloomy. This has come with few complaints as we all understood we needed the rain. As I am told our water table is reaching a more comfortable level and I am glad of that. However yesterday represented Austin’s delightful and sunny spirit.

For all my neighbors and friends you will be proud to notice the new billboard on South Congress, located just past the Hotel San Jose facing south, it reads :

I (Heart) SoCo

How true! Mingling through the streets yesterday was a joy as Austinites awoke from hibernation to enjoy the sunshine. Walking dogs, enjoying the parks and water ways, and dining al fresco were all welcomed agendas. I hope that same sun won’t be too hard on us this summer because I sure have missed it. As sang by the Beatles: “Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's all right!” I’m with them!

Small Time Business

My fourth grade education was filled with diversity.

Our class room was located at the end of the hall on the third floor of the newly labeled Primary School. Kentucky Education Reform Act, KERA had recently been established and among these programs were the invention of Primary, Middle and High School distinctions. These distinctions replaced the former Elementary, Junior High, and High School titles.

That year was really a great year for several reasons. Mrs. Gay Sisk was our teacher, she was young, had a great sense of humor and made school a place that you wanted to be. The class was a split grade allowing us to mingle and work along side a different age group which was all together new and exciting. Our desk were set up in two long groupings, where as one row of desks were connected with another to create two long pods on each side of the room. This was a refreshing change from ordinary rows. There were also a couple computers in the corner of the room, new then but now archaic, these were intriguing devices at the time. The front of the room hosted a long reading table, a rocking chair and our television on a rolling stand. You're getting the picture right?

Mrs. Sisk desk was in the back of the room near the curtain that opened into Mrs. Simons class room. Her class was also a split level and often on cold or rainy days the curtains would be opened for recess and the two classes would play together. That was always fun and especially good for business.

What is really of interest about my fourth grade class is that uniquely that year some friends and I began bringing in treasures from home and sitting them out on tables, selling them during recess. Over the course of a couple months this turned into a full on flea market of sorts. The merchandise consisted of costume jewelry, posters, odds and ends found at home that could be transported to school to be sold. Throughout the year almost everyone in the class took part in the business in some way or another. Money was made and saved, when money wasn't coming in like we thought it should we looked for ways to increase revenues. It was quite an operation.

You could take a drawing class from my friend Ryan who could teach you how to draw his famous dog sketches in just a few easy steps. Seasonal wreaths were made out of construction paper and sold to adorn individual lockers. A menagerie of nick knacks, erasers, pencils and pens were always big sellers. And during this process we really had a good time rolling in these nickles and dimes. As you can imagine the prices were really low, usually small change.

Interestingly at the time my friends and I saw nothing strange about this process. We often let the business take up all our time at recess as we were having just as much fun with it as we could playing chase. Most interestingly, Mrs. Sisk never put a stop to this business in her class. She monitored it closely and was always involved in any return disputes or other incidentals that we may have encountered. She kept a watchful eye, our parents became aware of the scenario that was playing out and no one put this operation to a halt.

As the year came to a close and all too quickly I might add, my classmates and I began to wonder what we would do with the money we had made over the year. The total was somewhere over $60.00. Ultimately we decided to honor Mrs. Sisk with the money. With the help of our Primary School Principal and Secretary: Mrs. Dorinda and Mrs Sharon, and of course our parents, we arranged an end of the year party. Decorations, refreshments, entertainment and gifts, all on us. We were very proud. Classmates and buddies Will and Robert entertained an audience with their original song "Skin and Bones," and the class presented fresh flowers and potted plants to our teacher. The party was a hit.

Over the years I have thought about that year many times. It was undoubtedly one of my favorite classes. We were all eight and nine years old then and now we're getting pretty close to thirty. I am not sure what role KERA played in my life educationally, but I do know that I learned many valuable lessons that year in Mrs. Sisk class. Many teachers would have shut us down for fear of complaining parents, mishandled money, you can imagine the fears. But not Mrs. Sisk! She allowed us to take our ideas and put them to use. Fortunately ideas that are allowed to flourished promote bigger and better ideas. After the party was winding down I remember Mrs. Sisk gave a presentation including her thoughts on the year and what she could see us individually doing in the future. I remember that we were all really proud to accept her visions of what we might become.

I have maintained contact with many of the students that I shared that year with and I like to think that we all got a boost from being a part of Mrs. Sisk class. I am not sure if we have made it to the destinations that she predicted for us, but I think that as a group, we're still giving it our best shot!

Hail to The Chief

President's Day came and went and I only touched lightly on the subject in yesterday's blog. Mae West had snatched my attention...moving on.

On Monday I had an interesting conversation with a friend about President Washington. We discussed the magnitude his service and efforts on behalf our country, when it was new. We marveled at how that service had held such lasting impact. I trust that Washington knew that generations to come would know him for these important American roles he played, but I wonder if he really knew how far his name would reach?

Just to be silly...what if when you drove into our nation's capitol a sign read "Welcome to Storms, D.C." To take that even farther, what if there was a state and apples named after me or you? What if mine or your faces appeared on quarters and dollar bills? I know they don't get much traction anymore, but what if?

Washington's leadership in the American Revolution, his efforts in founding our nation and ultimately setting so many precedents as our nations first President gives him his spot in history for the ages. We have continued to memorialize Washington for his great service and rightfully so! He set the tone for the forty three men who have followed including our current President, Barack Obama.

All to often we hear of the mistakes made by Presidents. Historians dig the dirt and we rehash their every move. Today I would like to shed some light on some of good things our Presidents have accomplished over our two hundred and thirty four year history. They are as follows:

Thomas Jefferson helped us attain the Louisiana Purchase from France. This not only expanded our borders but gave us control of the port at New Orleans. This expansion also led to further exploration through the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves by enacting the Emancipation Proclamation, led our country through the Civil War and delivered the all inspiring Gettysburg address.

President Theodore Roosevelt was instrumental in the infrastructure which is now our National Parks System. These parks conserve thousands of acres of our nations beauty.

President Woodrow Wilson invented the idea of a League of Nations. Even though we did not join due to the Congresses decision at that time, that same idea has come true through the United Nations. He was also the Commander in Chief during World War I

Franklin D. Roosevelt led us through the Great Depression by enacting many public institutions. A few of those institutions are still in operation such as: Social Security and the Tennessee Valley Authority. He also presided over our involvement in World War II.

President Eisenhower balanced the budget, not once but three times.

President Kennedy started our journey through NASA into space.

President Reagan through diplomacy helped to end the Cold War.

Just to name a few...

Note that none of these Presidential gifts to our country were small. I wish I had more time to indulge you, but I know that my point has been made. These few accolades were listed right off the top of my head, and I appreciate them all personally. Whether the President was a Whig, Democrat, or Republican I like to think these forty four have and are serving us to the best of their own abilities. Throughout time the office has proved to be a difficult one to master, just as it is to obtain. Be that as it may, we hold an interesting place in our hearts and minds for our President's and their families. We not only lean on them to lead us but we lean on them to let us know that things are going to be okay. I guess that relationship can be best described in this fashion:

Presidents! You can't live with them and you can't live with out them!

Mae in February

Today marks my twenty-fifth blog and I know what you're thinking...is that all? However they are received there are twenty five of them now and that is something in itself.

I failed to make it to the keys yesterday as I was in a celebratory mood. The recipe for this mood is rare but wonderful and it is when two holidays bud together to make two days of celebration. This particular conglomerate could even be perceived as three holidays for some. Beginning with Valentine's Day for our romantic sides, followed by President's Day for the patriot in us all and wrapped up with Fat Tuesday, be ware! Now each of these unique holidays are honored in February but not always simultaneously. So kudos to Cupid our President's and the Eve of Lent. Too bad I wasn't off today too!

Aside from venturing out for lunch at Flacos across the street and a jaunt down Congress to Amy's Ice Cream, I stayed close to home most of the weekend. Enjoying the sunshine with the door and windows open as well as some much needed rest and relaxation. Oh and don't forget laundry...ugh.

During which I made a discovery, Mae West.

Again, I can almost read your mind...you didn't know who Mae West was?

Well of course I did!

I knew that she was a star from long ago, a sex symbol in the early days, an actress from the stage and the silver screen, yes I knew all these things. But I really didn't know Mae West.

There you are reading this and thinking...that lunatic spent Valentine's Day at home, had the day off on President's Day, and all he discovered was an icon that most people in the world already knew about? I know it is a bit bizarre but that is exactly how I found her.

Mae West is someone I had heard my grandparents speak of as a pretty blond movie star from the old days; a Betty Boop of sorts. I knew that Mae West. However, after spending half the afternoon watching Sextette, West's last film in 1978, I was enthralled. The film roster boasted the likes of: Dom Deluise, Regis Philbin, Ringo Star, Tony Curtis, and George Hamilton. Ms. West, who at the time was already in her eighties, shuffled about as a sex goddess among a much younger cast of daunting characters and muscle men. I really couldn't believe what I was seeing, as the cast interacted, West indulged them with her famous one-liners just as she always had. You would get the feeling that she was in a different movie.

Beginning her career on the stage and dancing into film during the early 1930s, Mae West never lacked in sex appeal. Born in 1893 she starred in movies for nearly fifty years. She embraced her character, camera on or camera off. After doing some light net research on this icon I found that it is a collected idea that the lines between Mae West and her sexy characters grew hazy as the actress aged. I won't bother to tell you her life story, in fact that's not my lot in life no matter how interesting it is. Regardless, her success and her life pose some good questions.

Can you reach a level of fame, fortune or lack there of, that allows you the canvas on which to paint your own world? How many stars have we seen go down this same road?

To top it all off I was watching A & E's Hoarder's last night and came to the conclusion that many of the people portrayed in these segments have fallen into similar situation, except not at all luxurious or glamorous.

That said, let me wrap this all up and make sense of it. With our own self perceptions: confidence, self-worth, and self-awareness or lack there of; we perceive ourselves everyday to be the person we think we are to others. For Mae West, that was a beautiful blond, with all the right things to say, in a Hollywood apartment with mirrors on the ceiling at eighty seven years old. For many that might get a little old, but not for her!

Is that wrong?

I belong to the school of thought that believes that so long as you are happy you should get up every morning and be proud of the person you are. You should embrace your personality, your beauty, and your spirit, whatever that entails. Now I can't tell you if Mae West was happy with herself, if she indeed felt beautiful. But she left us with no information other wise. She only left us with a list of movies in which she mostly portrayed strong, beautiful and sexy characters. Whether it was an image or not, she created it, kept it going and lived with it.

Now I am not implying that you should go out and create your own fairytale to abide in, I am not saying that at all. What I would like to insist is that you love yourself. Love yourself everyday! If you can do that, you can live a life filled with Valentines, a life fit for a President, and who knows you might even find yourself shuffling down Bourbon Street looking like Mae West! Just be yourself it will be great!

"I wrote the story myself, it's all about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it!" ~Mae West

Love Song for Billie Storms

A few years ago on this particular day I bid fare well to a person that had helped shape my life. A woman whose personality inspired me from the absolute beginning of mine. A lady who could captivate you with her charm, my Grandmother, Billie Storms. Known to many as Granny, born in October of 1932, her vivacious spirit is the subject of family stories and so many of my thoughts. When you lose someone who means that much you can't help but be reminded of them constantly.

A few of the last words she spoke to me included asking me to deliver her eulogy. A task that I accepted reluctantly and was honored to be asked. Today having one of my weaker moments I decided to dedicate this blog to her.

Granny grew up in Dawson Springs during the depression, her parents were Schuyler and Ruth Hancock Carter. My Papaw was a career soldier in the United States Army and Granny and their four children joined him on every assignment the government would allow. Two stints in Germany, time spent in Colorado Springs, Colorado and home base was always Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Throughout those years I can't even begin to imagine all the people she met and impressions she made. She was the quintessential "People Person." Her laugh and her smile were infectious and it was easy to come to terms with the fact that to know her was to love her. I am also proud to boast that in spirit Granny never aged; she was youthful all her life.

A woman before her time she was independent, strong and driven. In the 1960s she began acquiring and selling Antiques, an upgrade from Stanley and Tupperware. She, with the help of my Grandfather started a business that came to be respected in its field as she sold countless beautiful artifacts of our tangible past. Storms Antiques has the topic of a previous blog.

She reared and adored four children: Judy, Eddie, Marcy and Mike, Eddie being my Dad. Needless to say she was always available to our family for advice, support, or babysitting. If you told her where to be she was there. After her retirement she and my Papaw became even more supportive fans of their eight Grand kids and in later years Great-Grand kids. Attending sporting events, church activities and birthday parties, she was always there. I guess that is why it was so difficult for me to deal with the fact that she wasn't going to be there any more. In recent years as I have reached milestones and made achievements it's hard not to pick up the phone and let her know the scoop. She always said she never had son or daughter-in-laws only additional children, and this was true. She loved my Mother, my Aunt Toni, and my Uncle Tony as if she had raised them herself.

When my Dad was growing up he played football and I always remember him telling a story of getting an injury during a game and coming to seeing her face. She had combed through the coaches and onlookers to check on her "Baby," a term she used on all members of her brood. Once my sister fainted in the grocery store and who was there when she woke up, you guessed it, Granny was there. She had an uncanny ability of knowing what to say and what to do for any occasion.

As life happens we are always given options and choices. Be that as it may we don't get the option of choosing our Grandparents. We come to know them in a time that they are settling down and we remind them of the child that brought us into the world. Thank God I got the Grandparents I did or the family I did for that matter. They have blessed my life in ways that I could never totally describe. My Grandparents gave me more than I could have ever asked for. History will probably not record the life and times of Billie Storms but that does not mean her life didn't reach great success. She changed the lives of all those she touched and I am very proud to have been her Grandson.

Enjoy Valentine's Day and enjoy your family. Until next week, all the best!

And now...A Word From Our Sponsor

When I was growing up my Granny and Papaw owned an Antique business. Storms Antiques was housed in a large white block building nestled into a hillside next to their house in Dawson Springs.

The store was filled with row after row of antiques and the inventory was always changing. Everything from the largest piece to the doily on a table had a reason for its placement and was an example of some sort of rarity. That always appealed to me.

I was pretty young when my grandparents retired and it wasn't until I was older that I learned about the type of operation they had really ran. I know it seems ordinary; the story of a couple running an antique business in a small town, but really it isn't. Because starting and sustaining a business is never ordinary.

What was once a dream of theirs became a reality and that especially appeals to me. They became experts on Antique furniture, clocks, glassware, pottery, quilts, linens, you name it...they knew about it. And through the years with those thoughts in my mind I have always wanted to have a store of my own. It's been a dream of mine to hang out a shingle and rekindle the dream that was once theirs...but where would I start?

In the beginning it sort of started out in the way it did for them. I was at a Goodwill in downtown Nashville and bought a beautiful colonial style wing back chair for a very low price. That's right I can't tell you how low, you know the rules. Regardless, it needed nothing but a bit of cleaning up. I was in the neighborhood because my friend Molly was having a yard sale that morning and her Craigslist advertisement boasted free Bloody Mary's and Mimosas. Done, done and done...I'm there. Those were my exact thoughts. I parked in front of her house, pulled out the chair to show her my latest find and a lady in a station wagon parked behind me made me an offer on the chair. Sold! I was hooked.

Now that I think of it my story is a little less romantic and a bit more simple than my Grandparent's, but they do have some similarities. Right? The scene for their story was set in Germany and started with an old clock. But the bottom is you never get anywhere unless you stick your neck out. Since that day at Molly's yard sale I have "ebayed", stopped at lots of yard sales and Goodwill's, trying to find that rare item. The item over looked and I'm learning! In an effort not to become a hoarder I often have to sell my finds. It always depends on how busy I am with my real career and my social life, but I do carve out time for this hobby in hopes that it may some day bud into a successful business like theirs. For now I show case items on my website and sell antiques on ebay and Craigslist. You always have to start somewhere and that is just what I did, I started. I often feel like that is the hardest part of projects is starting them. The trick is making it fun and that it is. When this idea first surfaced over dinner with friends in Nashville one of the first questions asked was:

"What will you call it."

I quickly replied with a twinkle in my eye and without pause: "Storms Antiques"

To learn more about Storms Antiques check out my website:
www.jes91681.Web.officelive.com

The Year of the Locust

Yesterday I blogged about my Grandfather which helped some memories surface. Today I will elaborate on one of those fishing trips I touched on in that blog.

Each Spring Papaw liked to fish at the Mill Dam in Dawson Springs. He always said that the fish would be biting when the water was at a particular level, that usually occurred in mid March. We fished with regular rods and reels, typically with worms and always a bobber, for Blue Gill. For those of you who may not have heard of a Blue Gill, also known as a Sunfish, it is a small fish about the size of ones hand and when filleted, battered and fried they become delicious bite sized treats.

I would usually spend the night at Papaw and Granny's house the night before one of these outings. That night we would get all of our gear together, gather the worms from the compost pile, and discuss how the next day should unfold. One particular year was the year of the Locust, and I know that sounds very biblical, but that is the only way I can describe it. I was camping out one night when it began to happen.

Let me rephrase this, some good friends and I put up a tent in his side yard and his Dad let us have a little bond fire. The fire was very contained and we stayed up late talking and spooking each other about the sounds in the darkness, you know the scene. Throughout the night we noticed these albino looking creatures about the size of a fig leaf emerge from the ground. They were like bug zombies and they were every where. One would be crawling up your leg or on your chair. They didn't bite but were a nuisance, they were only looking for a tree to climb. That Spring we watched these creatures evolve from yellowish white colors to green and then to black with red beady eyes. We took note as they crawled out of their skins and left them attached to the bark on the trees. The Locust or Cicadas as some more worldly would refer to them at the time, invaded our imaginations that spring. Not to mention they invaded all of the yards that I mowed that summer.

You see I had a good business going in those days. My Great Aunt and my Granny had spread the word at the Beauty Shop, at The Place a restaurant in town that was a stomping ground for many locals, and the First Baptist Church. Needless to say I worked for several widows in town and I tried my best to keep their yards looking good and that year I had these Locust to deal with.

I came to understand that the Locust had an agenda. They emerged, climbed the trees, layed their eggs at the ends of the limbs and then gnawed the ends of the same limbs so that the next gust of wind would force those portions from the tree onto the ground. It seems very simple but to them it is the work of a lifetime. Once these leafed twigs hit the ground the eggs were released into the dirt to incubate. After the eggs hatched they would live underground for seven years or so when they would again invade a different generation of campers imaginations. The whole process is quite intriguing and one of natures miracles.

About those twigs...they were everywhere. I began to get request not to mow them up but to pick them up, I was raking up dead Locust carcases and bagging them. They rotted, they smelled and the ones that were still alive buzzed about constantly. The ladies I worked for despised them as they transformed their yards from show places into disarray!

But not Papaw. Papaw was never in the camp that disliked these critters. He watched them invade, talked about their purpose as it progressed, then the night before that fishing trip instead of worms we bagged up Locust and kept them ready to fish with the next day. Papaw, being the opportunist that he is invisioned these creatures buzzing and spreading their wings as they hit the water enticing the fish that we would in turn bring buckets of home. And they did just that. The day was amazing! We filled five gallon buckets with water to keep the fish fresh, and we filled up several of those. As the day unfolded Papaw began to cook up plans for a feast, a huge fish fry for all the family and I was so proud to be bringing in some of the meat. It was great!

My Granny also enjoyed fishing and usually went along, she fished with a cane pole. But on this particular trip she stayed home. They had just bought a brand new Chrystler Fifth Avenue, Black Cherry, with chrome spoked hub caps and a soft top. It was a real beauty to behold; about a week old. That is the car that Papaw and I took to the Mill Dam, the same car that we loaded several lidless five gallon buckets, full of water and Blue Gill into its trunk. The same vehicle that we drove away from the site where I caught the most fish I have ever caught in my life to date. We drove away bragging about what a day it had been.

Now, for those of you who have been to the Mill Dam, in Dawson Springs, you know that there is not a way to get home from there with out going up a hill, or without going down a bumpy road. The Mill Dam was the home of the old Mill located on the Tradewater River. Everyone fished on a huge unearthed rock that overlooked a pool of water constantly replinished by water crossing the dam. It is as cool of a place to a thirteen year old boy as there could be.

As I said we left the Mill Dam in their brand new Fifth Avenue, down the bumpy road and up the hill to Highway 62 and back out to his house. When we pulled into the driveway he said as he had so many times before:

"Son go get your Granny."

I burst out of the car and into the house yelling for her and she came with excitement already knowing that it must have been a great day. We both came out the door all smiles until Granny saw the trunk...There was about an inch of water in the trunk and all our days catch flipping and flopping about in it. I could see her smile evaporate.

We still had that fish fry and I didn't have to take near as much blame for the trunk as Papaw did.

Stay tuned for more adventures with Papaw...

The Leader of The Band

Many stories I tell among friends start out with, my Papaw always said...

Everyone should know my Papaw. Maybe not even just know him, but know him the way I do. Let me attempt to explain.

When I was a little boy my cousins and I would often be together at Papaw and Granny's house. They lived just outside of Dawson Springs, right next door to their antique shop; Storms Antiques. Usually after dinner, when we all began to settle down we would gather around and listen to him tell stories. Good stories. Some in his lap, some at his feet, each of us as close as we could get to him, while he would fascinate us with these tales. He told us stories about The Old Blue Sow, that roamed a tiny village and was really a witch. The story about his Great Grandfather traveling far from home who hitched a ride back from a flock of geese. One about a terrified minister who burst out of a church window into a brier patch. All of these stories enthralled us and we would ask question after question; before, during and after. Papaw always came up with answers, as any good storyteller would. My all time favorite was about how he got to marry my Granny. Which involved a series of tests. Test like finding a needle in a hay stack, choosing the right duckling on a pond, eventually he passed and they were able to be together after all. My cousins and I would always deduct that she had helped him along all the way; it is a sweet family story.

Nonetheless, as I got older and I began to understand the stories, Papaw replaced them with poetry. We would spend nights after dinner at his house going through book after book reading poetry to one another. Even poems that he had written, long ago and ones he was working on at the time. On those nights he open doors to me that I didn't know existed. My Granny would be involved as well and if my Aunt Judy was in town she would read and contribute too; it was a family affair.

Somewhere along the way my Papaw became interested in genealogy too and he researched our family heritage. Going to courthouses, writing letters to distant relatives, visiting old folks throughout the countryside, and going to cemeteries. I was a part of that block of time as well and in tow I went on many of those fact finding missions, soaking up all that I could.

Throughout all of that time I developed a love for storytelling, poetry and my ancestral background. Over the past ten years I couldn't calculate all the late nights he and I have spent talking about the lore of our family, in and out. The good, bad and the ugly. The hours we have spent reading poetry. Poems by Sassoon, Emerson, Whitman, Kipling, and the list goes on.

I shouldn't forget to mention that he also took me fishing every Spring, I will have to elaborate on that in another blog. I have plenty of stories involving Papaw. We worked in his yard together, I went on trips with he and Granny. Life was good when I was growing up. Not only did I have great parents but I really had awesome grandparents and aunts and uncles. My sister and I always had an abundance of love and attention.

The funny thing about this particular blog is that I have only written about a part of my Papaws life, the part that began in 1981. I have left out the fifty one years leading up to the time that I came into his life. The part of his story that involves him being the oldest of ten children and that he was working from the time we was old enough to help his parents make a farm work. The fact that he survived the great depression and used the time to dream about all the things he wanted to see and do in life. I left out the story about him joining the United States Army at seventeen. His resume would state that he was a guard at the War Crime Trials in Tokyo, Japan after World War II. It would also be noted that he served in the Korean and Vietnam Wars and that he put in two peace time tours in post war Germany during the 1950s and 1960s. I should also record that after serving his country for twenty five years he and his wife put all their interest into Storms Antiques which they had been working on for many years and to top it all off, throughout all those years they managed to rear four children.

As interesting as it seems this is still a "Readers Digest Version.

On May 5Th, of this year Papaw will celebrate his 80Th birthday. For the last ten years he has been wheelchair bound due to the full amputation of one of his legs. He still manages at home and has a mind as sharp as a steel trap. He's Papaw...why wouldn't he?

As the years have gone by he has suffered too. Losing many family members and most recently my Granny after being married for over fifty years. When the holidays roll around my family all gather around his table, as he says a prayer to bless our family and our food. Many times He has described our family as an old Oak tree, that through the years the family had weathered many storms but never fell. I suppose that is how I would describe him. Like the Oak that was tried and true.

Somewhere along the way Papaw began addressing cards and letters, even poetry to me by saying: "My Pal, My Friend," and what an achievement that was for me. To have reached the day when my ultimate mentor, my Hero even, had began to refer to me as a friend. If you know me well you have heard me talk about Papaw, and you will again. Because this man has done something with his life that seems so easy but can be very hard. He has lived it. As simple as that, every second, every minute, every hour put to good use. And though I live nine hundred or more miles away from him I feel the bond that we have is as strong as it always was. My Dad's, Dad: Edward Eugene Storms (I).

Oh When The Saints, Go Marching In!

As all the hype of Super Bowl XLIV begins to die down, many fans will look to New Orleans with smiling eyes. The Big Easy now has a huge reason to make use of their Mardi Gras Spirit; a tiny bit early.

Last night I enjoyed the Super Bowl festivities at the South Austin home of some good friends. As you might expect there were plenty of people and good food to be enjoyed. But because one of the host for the evening was in fact from New Orleans, the bar was set a little higher.

I am happy to report that I was not disappointed!

Among the traditional Super Bowl Party Menu was: Chicken wings with an array of sauces, delicious guacamole and salsa, Queso galore, fruits, veggies, dessert after dessert and of course all the cocktails, beer and wine that one could consume. But just to pick it up a notch or even two, guest enjoyed New Orleans Style Gumbo paired with homemade bread and the exciting arrival of a Saints colored King Cake. What a spread!

A very festive group mingled about a beautiful home, to ring in one of the United States largely celebrated sporting holidays; yet again. The game was enjoyed at two viewing stations. One in the homes great room, where the less serious lot of game watchers nibbled and conversed about the game, of course, but also the latest commercials and vocalist. The homes third floor was set apart for the more serious fans.

Leaving a party with a smile on my face is a high priority and a terrific indication that the hosts knew what they were doing! House parties always reflect the hosts personalities and creativity, this party can be simply descibed as a hit! A big thank you to Lynn Yeldell and Alisa Weldon.

The New Orleans Saints now enter a coveted group with last nights much deserved win. Coming from the great Commonwealth of Kentucky to the Lone Star state of Texas, you don't have to explain to me the pride that goes with your states team ringing in a big win! That goes with the territory. But today I share in the excitement and pride which goes to the Saints.

Who Dat!

Rules of Thumb

As I have stated before my Great Grandfather Chesley Franklin owned and operated coal mines in Western Kentucky during the 1930s on until his death in 1967. These mines were located in an area just outside of Dawson Springs, Kentucky called Beulah. Chesley was the subject of one of his son's stories included in the series Characters I have known; published in the Dawson Springs Progress in the late 1970s. His son Decola Franklin, my grandfather, was the subject of a previous blog. For today's blog I would like to paraphrase another one of his priceless stories.

From what I know of Chesley he was a wise gentleman, who created a thriving business in his time. He and my Great Grandmother, Orva Teague, grew up in Mannington, Kentucky. He was a very family oriented man and also a civic leader in Dawson Springs. A man like Chesley would have known how to handle most situations, I would imagine.

One day he was in his office at the mines and he saw an old truck pull up and park. Taking a quick break from the matters at hand he began to watch the man in the truck take a bottle from under the seat. The man took a large swallow from the bottle before returning it to its hiding spot and began getting out of the truck. He soon entered the office and asked to speak to Mr. Franklin. After entering Chesley's office he quickly greeted Mr. Franklin and inquired about any available jobs. Concientiously Chesley asked the man:

"Do you drink sir?"

"No, I never touch the stuff!" The job seeker replied.

Chesley shook his head disappointed.

"Well I am very sorry sir, but we only hire drunks here."

The man headed back to his truck and left the mines with a very confused look on his face.

"Excuse me sir, do you have the time?"

Monday, January 18Th came and went and gave a nation the chance to remember a man and his movement. A man who would have been 81 on January 15, was remembered for the work he did to improve civil rights in the United States. Sharing the name of another great reformer Martin Luther who led the Protestant Reformation, the two men are known the world over for not going silently into the night.

Although I do not see myself as an activist there are causes that I support and fight for in my own way. It is important for me to know that the life I lead may help to improve life for the generations that follow. Wow, that was deep. Right?

Is it really that easy? Can one life change things for others? I think so!

Gandhi gracefully said: "We must be the change we want to see in the world."

What change is that? In what direction do we want the world and it's people to go? That said, what directions haven't we already gone? Could it be that there are still paths that we haven't traveled? I think so!

Dr. King was the leader of a movement that our country has been forever changed by. A concept of acceptance that seems so simple, but at the time was, in fact, a difficult mountain to climb. It is my opinion that we as a nation should continue to find those mountains, climbing each until those obstacles are all in our rear view mirrors.

Be that as it may, these obstacles will shake us, they will make us question ourselves, they will rock us to our very core. Be it economical, social, or any other issue; the obstacles will always bargain with us for our sanity! We must stay strong!

Let the work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, and his wife Coretta Scott King, the work of their family as a whole be a example of courage in a time when courage was needed. And let it not only be in the month of February that we recognize people who have helped to change things for the greater good. People who have helped shape our America into the type of country that it was invented to be.

As my wise Aunt Judy often contributes: "Sometimes all we have to give is our time."

Time works!

Can you spare some?

Hijacked Hitchhiker

Once upon a time...no wait; I don't want to start this out like that.

Alright, I'll tell you if you must know.

A few years ago my friend Jesse and I hijacked a hitchhiker. I guess that is the best way to put it. That wasn't our intent or should I say mine, since I don't think Jesse was very much a part of the planning process. Regardless, it was a hilarious experience.

A group of friends and I went to see Kid Rock in concert at Star Wood Amphitheatre in Nashville, Tennessee, several years ago. Most of us went to school at Murray State University. We obviously were in a caravan coming from Murray and there were groups of Dawson Springs friends that came from Western Kentucky University and the University of Kentucky. We had planned this trip for a few months and the concert was great! But that's not the story I was going to tell you...was it?

We all stayed in a hotel in Nashville, downtown and the morning after the concert we all headed over to a Shoney's for a greasy breakfast before we went our separate ways. Our group had split into two, a group that was staying in Nashville for another night and Jesse and I who were heading back to Murray. Well that mattered not to us, Jesse and I never had any trouble having fun, no matter how large or small the group was.

I was driving my GMC Jimmy, hunter green, four door. That SUV drove all over the Southeast part of this country following bands, and beaches during my college years; and even post college years. If that vehicle could talk I'm sure there would be a great many of us willing to pitch in to silence it!

That said, Jesse and I headed out on Interstate 24 back toward home. We decided to stop off at the first exit out of town to grab a couple of sodas and maybe a snack for the road. It was apparent that we had both gotten up too early, but we were making the best of the morning.

After the quick pit stop I began to maneuver myself back on to the interstate. Jesse was getting himself settled in for the trip, adjusting the radio and buckling up.

Usually this is the part of the story that Jesse steps in to discuss what happens next.

In plain view, just past the on ramp I could see a motley looking character standing on the shoulder. I made a bee line toward him, thinking...this is just what our morning needs. Jesse quickly became aware of our deceleration, but was unclear about what we were stopping for. And before he could get the words out of his mouth a tall and burly bearded character was opening his passenger side door. I quickly gestured.

"Hope in the back Bud!" And we were off.

Jesse's face was as red as a beet and it would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that he was a little put out by my sudden benevolence.

"Where are you headed Bud?" I said to this stranger in my back seat.

"Alaska!" He replied cheerfully.

I hear Jesse sigh but I can only laugh and as the Q and A continues between us my laugh comfortably slides into my more common cackle.

"Well sir, we are just heading down there road on a short trip; but we'll be glad to drop you off in Clarksville!" I said seriously.

"Well, I guess I will take what I can get." The hitchhiker said with a smile and he began to share with us his many stories of the road.

I was so intrigued with his many tales of women, run ins with bosses and his reason for being on the open road. I got a little let down about the fact that we were going to have to drop him off so early. But my good friend Jesse held strong. He was leery of this cat and the whole situation for that matter. But even he can't deny that this was a funny stretch of road that we traveled together and here is where it gets good...

I begin to approach the Clarksville, Tennessee exits and the Hitchhiker had already asked us for a few bucks. You see, he hadn't had anything to eat since the day before...he was hungry.

"Bud, we've already spent all of our money on this trip, but we would be glad to drop you off at a soup kitchen or something." I added to the mix.

He thanked me but said that he would just make due...and I continued.

"Well why don't we try to find a place for you to get a warm meal?"

I took exit four onto a major street in Clarksville and the Hitchhiker begins to suggest places to let him out.

"Right here will be fine Sir."

"Just anywhere." He would say.

About that time I mentioned a hot meal again and the Hitchhiker escaped us. Right there at the light. He opened the door and bailed on us. Can you believe it?

As we reached the interstate for the third time of the day Jesse and I were both riding high, laughing and going over the events that had just taken place. Jesse forgave me and still admits that it was pretty funny. But since then, most trips we have taken together...he drives!

Sentinel of Spring

As winter gives up the fight, year after year, and lets the sun prevail we are immersed in Spring. A time when renewal is all around us. In my Kentucky Home the signs of spring come with the Crocus and the Red Bud; shortly followed by the pure white of the Dogwood.

My Aunt and Uncle's house sitting right in the heart of my hometown was no stranger to Spring and it's colors. In the early seventies when my Aunt and Uncle built their home they made sure of that. The yard hosts three Dogwoods; one, in my opinion could be the prettiest in town. They also planted two Red Buds, time took its toll on one and it had to be cut down a few years ago. Even still, the yard used to be filled with color when their Apple, Pear and Peach trees would bloom, but these trees are no more as well. And though these trees have been silenced by natures duty the flowers of spring prevail.

Scattered throughout Ami and Gar's yard you will see an array of species of Daffodils. Then there are the Hyacinths and the Blue Bells, the Forsythia, Japonica, and Snow Balls...they all rear their heads in Spring. And as the weather in Texas begins to feel that way my mind drifts back to my childhood "home away from home," which was Ami and Gar's house.

These two began babysitting me when I was about three years old. I know I would have loved going to their house even if their yard was paved but it wasn't...it was filled with beautiful flowers and trees. At an early age I developed a love for these plants. A great many people say I have an old soul and I would say that soul was nurtured at their house. A place surrounded by bird feeders and bird houses, a refuge for the Cardinal and the Sparrow. Lunch at 10:30 A.M., the Fire Houses whistle marked noon, and As the World Turns at 2:00; just like clock work. I like to think that I was as much a part of their lives as they were of mine.

My uncle was born in February of 1919, the youngest son of Dan and Jesse Gentry Witherspoon. Most people in Dawson Springs that remember him will refer to him as Spoony. He was the youngest of four boys and graduated High School with my Grandfather Decola in 1939. Gar was in the U.S. Army during World War II, upon returning from the War he worked at Outwood, Decola Franklin Coal Company, and was a Civil Servant at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. People in Dawson Springs always knew that Spoony knew where and how to fish; and if you look through our family photos you might begin to think the same way.

My Aunt was born in September of 1929, just days before the stock market crashed. Aminell Russell she was and she was the sixth of eight children, my Nannie's youngest sister. She grew up to marry Garland in 1948 and when he died they had been married forty eight years. Ami and Gar took time for me all my life and this morning both of them were on my mind. I am sad to say that I won't see their yard this spring, but it is etched in my memories for a lifetime.

My Aunt celebrated her 80Th birthday this past September and she is one of the kindest people I have ever met. Out of all you gave me my Dear Aunt, you gave me your love for the earth and all it's bounty. That I will treasure.

Local Yokel

How many times have you thought about opening your own business? Haven't you day dreamed of taking your favorite recipes and showing the world, sharing your best laid plans and turning a profit, being your own boss. Isn't that like the American Dream or something?

With the current economic climate I find myself trying harder and harder to support local businesses. Local restaurants, local clothing stores, purchasing a field fresh box, and I am trying to spread the word. It feels so good to spend money in the right way.

I received some of the most beautiful and delicious vegetables from the Steele farm in my weekly organic produce box. Carrots, broccoli, a red cabbage, green onions, and bib lettuce...it is great. That said, it's great every week. Flip through the pages of Edible Austin and pick a farm, these veggies will change your life!

This fresh produce brings me to the thought of cooking...but if you don't want to cook tonight hit up a local eatery. They're everywhere! I had the privilege of dinning at Buenos Aires this weekend and the food, service, and atmosphere were awesome. I haven't stopped talking about this cool cafe`. Try them out there is a Buenos Aires located on South First and another on East Sixth Street.

I could make list after list of local business that are worthy of our support but the list would not out weigh the worth of its message. In order to help our neighbors stay in business we must join in their cause. As Joni Mitchell put it in her great song Big Yellow Taxi: "You don't know what you've got till it's gone." Our dollars can speak louder than words...spend wisely!