"God must have needed a photographer, and He got the very best with Tim."

That was one of the very first thoughts that came to mind this morning.

My heart felt like it broke into a hundred pieces yesterday afternoon, upon hearing of the passing of my very good friend Tim Talley.

Tim was many things to many people.  I suppose the first aspect that comes to the minds of lots of folks is that he was an amazing photographer.  For more than forty years Tim made his mark not just in Reidsville and Rockingham County, but throughout the Piedmont region.  Tim was blessed with an incredible vision and sense of composition.  The man worked with light the way that the finest sculptors work with clay.  Tim came up with seemingly countless ways of staging photos and he would go to whatever lengths it took to pull them off.  He also had a way of bringing out the best of his subjects.  Everyone was beautiful in his eye and he knew how to capture and convey that with his camera.  Tim had ways of pulling off the almost impossible... like when he coaxed my dachshund Tammy into sitting still when we did a photo shoot with him in 2017.  I had told him that if he could do that then he was a better man than me... and lo and behold he did it!

If nothing else then the many thousands of portraits that he made, hanging in family living rooms throughout the region, attests to his talent.

Those who knew him best, though, will remember him for so much else.

Tim was a devoted husband to his wife Donna, and a father to his son Brandon.  He absolutely adored Brandon's wife and their three daughters. When Tim finally retired some years ago, it was always with it borne in mind that he and Donna were going to move to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania so he could be closer to Brandon and his family.

And once Tim got situated in Lancaster County, he very quickly made friends among the people there, especially his Amish neighbors.  I think Tim might have been the one photographer they trusted enough with his getting an occasional picture of them (but not for widespread publication, those were meant for his friends and family).  Not long after relocating there, Tim became the driver of a tour bus, and he became much beloved for his knowledge, his sense of humor, and just the fact that he was a southerner driving visitors around "Amish Country".

Tim's good cheer and friendliness were absolutely contagious.  His smile lit up everything... and every one... who came into his proximity.  I don't think Tim ever met a stranger.  And in that regard, he certainly became a role model for my own place in this world.

Tim had principles.  He stood resolute upon them.  I think it's safe to say that there were some people who didn't agree with those.  But there was too much respect for Tim than to think any less of him for those.  With Tim, you knew where he was positioned.  And that had to be admired by all who knew him or knew of him.

Tim devoted his life to serving God, in whatever capacity that might be.  God gave him a talent and Tim was determined to make the most of it.  He truly was a brother in Christ who cared for all who came into his life, for however long or brief it might have been.

I think that most of all, though, what especially rends my heart right now, is that I have lost a true friend.

I had my photo taken by Tim several times.  I also knew him from the Boy Scouts.  He and I were adult leaders in Reidsville's Troop 797.  In fact, that's where I first laid eyes on him, after seeing his work displayed around the area for years already.  Once, a month or so before I graduated from high school, Tim and me and several other Scouts and Scouters made a long drive to camp in the North Carolina mountains for a weekend and to hike part of the Appalachian Trail.  Tim made sure to bring a camera along to snap photos.  He took to mountain hiking the way a fish takes to water.  The troop also went camping a few times at Tim's place outside of Reidsville.

We were already friends.  When Facebook came along that gave us more opportunity to keep in touch on a regular basis.  Tim often shared some of his latest handiwork, and he was ever eager to demonstrate to his readers how he worked his trade.  I learned a lot about photography from Tim and his informal academy.  I believe a lot of people did, too.

Well, I could say so much, much more.  All that I really know since yesterday afternoon is that the world has lost a tremendously talented man, a family has lost a husband and a father and a grandfather, two communities hundreds of miles apart have lost a respected citizen, and I have lost a wonderful friend.

Until we meet again, Tim.  Thank you for being you. And I thank God that He let you be in our lives, for however brief a season it seemed.

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One of the most amazing people who I have ever known has left us

 

A short while ago I got the word from her daughter that Nell Rose, one of the most enthused and energetic and especially dynamic people who I have ever had the great pleasure of knowing, passed away yesterday.

Nell was the embodiment of model leadership.  She would see things that could have been better and she threw herself into it, no questions asked.  This was especially noted in her myriad of activities involving education.  She spearheaded a number of initiatives when she and her family moved to Charlotte.  And then some years later when they moved back to the Reidsville area, she brought that same vision to bear.  The woman was nigh unstoppable.

I knew Nell from a variety of situations.  The first time we met, it was during our high school swim team's weekly meets.  Her two daughters were on the team and Nell often came to cheer not only her own girls on, but she was behind all of us.  Her beautiful beaming smile never failed to encourage and inspire us ever forward.

Nell was one of the first members of the consolidated school board after all the systems in Rockingham County merged.  And that led to further contact with Nell as I got involved in the county's education affairs.  She and I had many conversations about a variety of subjects, and I always went away feeling that much more wise and enlightened.

And then there was Theatre Guild of Rockingham County.  Nell served on the board of that.  And she came to most of our performances.  It was a special feeling, knowing that she was in the audience as we put on our production.  I think we made sure to put a little extra heart into the act when Nell was in the house.

Wow.  So much I could say about this fine lady.  She was the kind of person who really did make this world a much better place for her being here.  There is, was and ever will be only one Nell Rose.  God broke the mold when He designed her.

Here is Nell's extensive obituary on the Citty Funeral Home site.

Thoughts and prayers going up and out for her loved ones.

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Laz A. Mataz presents his debut novel: Dimensions of Essence

Hey gang!  Got something special for ya...

A very dear friend of mine, Laz A. Mataz, has been working on his first novel for awhile.  Dimensions of Essence is a science-fiction story about what happens when a mysterious disc of otherworldly origins suddenly appears in a field in Ohio.  I was honored to be one of the first to read Mataz's book and I was thoroughly entertained and also made to think a bit deeper about some things.  Dimensions of Essence strikes me as being part Tom Clancy, part Philip José Farmer, and a dash of Christianity.  And it works quite well.

Well, today is the big day!  As of a short while ago this morning Dimensions of Essence has debuted on Amazon for purchase to read on Kindle and its associated apps.  Click here to purchase it for $5.99.

Congrats Laz!  And I'm really looking forward to the sequel and where you take this tale next :-) 

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A lesson on humbleness

Had some very good news today!  Wish I could share it but I had to sign all kinds of non-disclosure agreements and whatnot.  But trust me, it's awesome!!

During a discussion about how good a turn this is, a dear friend shared something that I thought was rather profound.  It's a notion I've never considered before and it's already greatly impacted my outlook on life.  Here it is, in his own words...

Stay humble, but let me tell you a story: When I first came into the Twelve Steps program, I was saying to my sponsor how bad a person I was.  His response was, 

"Wow. What an ego on YOU."

I replied, "That's the opposite of ego."

He smiled and said, "No it isn't. Do you know the Latin root of the word "humble"? It is "humus".  To be grounded.  Humility is the act of being neither greater NOR LESS THAN who you truly are."

Light bulb went off over my head.  Now I try to be humble.  Neither greater nor less than.

If nothing else I have learned something new to me: the word "humus" and how it's the basis of "humble".

I have been told before that I am humble.  Maybe I've been trying to be too humble.  Hence, something other than grounded.

It's a good notion to meditate upon for the rest of this evening.

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The #1 most popular page on this blog right now is...

...This post from April the 4th, 2005.  That's just over twenty years ago.  It's about the "midnight madness" that took place for the new merchandise related to Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.  For whatever reason a lot of visitors have been coming to that post over the past few months and especially this last several days.

Is it because this spring marks the twentieth anniversary of Revenge of the Sith?  Or is it another factor?  I wonder if there's some sentimentality at work.  Twenty years ago we were a fandom united in spirit and purpose.  Star Wars was something that we shared and had common ground over.  It wasn't what it has devolved into.  It was a purer, and more beautiful, work.  Star Wars was one of the few truly good things in this world that could bring almost everyone together.  The third installment of the Star Wars prequel trilogy was by all accounts going to be the absolute last film of the entire saga to be made.  So we made the very most of that.

I like to believe that the old spirit of Star Wars is still there, beneath the mangled morass of corporate bungling driven more by agenda and less by the desire for good storytelling.  But as it is, there are no more midnight madness-es for Star Wars.  I don't know if there will ever be one again.  It's something you kinda "had to be there" and be part of the moment.

It is a nice thing though to be able to report that all these years later and I still keep in touch with a couple of people mentioned in that post.  Darth Larry (pictured above), better known as Brian Hodges, is a much-acclaimed and accomplished cello player in the Pacific Northwest region.  And the paths of Fonso (below with Yours Truly) and myself crossed quite a few more occasions, enough to now count him as a dear friend who has been there for me several times.

That is what Star Wars is best at doing.  Forging not just friendships but bonds of family.  Kathleen Kennedy and everyone else at Disney haven't understood that and quite possibly can't understand it.  Star Wars under their management just isn't resonating with the fans as it should.

But, Star Wars has endured before.  I well remember the "dark times" between Return of the Jedi and the publication of Heir to the Empire.  That was eight solid years that we went without the saga being added to.  If it wasn't for West End Games' Star Wars role-playing game we might have lost all hope.  Sometimes we wondered if many people even cared about Star Wars at all.  And then Timothy Zahn's first Star Wars novel came out and suddenly the mythology roared back to life.  Star Wars hadn't died out at all.  It just went into hibernation for awhile.

Star Wars right now is a mess.  I watched two episodes of The Acolyte and gave up on it hard.  Disney should disown that series just as it has other works in its history.  Star Wars needs to be cleaned up.  And made into something wholesome and agreeable to by everyone, especially children.

It has been that before.  It can be that again.

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Welcome to Matt Smith's weekly Sunday School!

Very good friend Matt Smith (no not the Doctor Who actor!) and I go back a few years, all the way to our time together at that very strange television station in Reidsville, North Carolina.  I learned a lot about video and broadcasting from Matt, and I continue to learn much from him since his becoming active with the online realm, sharing his talents and his calling as a minister.

For the past two or three years Matt has been maintaining a weekly series of "Sunday school" lessons.  Every Saturday he posts a new one on YouTube.  I for one have been benefiting from Matt's devotionals and I think that others might will also.  Click on over to Matt's YouTube channel and prepare to be edified, enlightened, and maybe even a little entertained.

Thank you for all that you do my brother!

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We saw GHOSTBUSTERS: AFTERLIFE last night

Ghostbusters: Afterlife is the movie we didn't know we needed right now, is better than we deserve, and blew away expectations.  It is a MAGNIFICENT tribute to the original film while standing on its own and setting the stage for more still to come.  Be sure to stick around until the end of the credits for two extra scenes.

And we had some fun with our going to see it:

Who you gonna call?

Some friends and I went to the theater wearing our finest Ghostbuster attire.  That's my bestie since college Ed in the center.  The whole thing was his idea :-)

Anyhoo, go see Ghostbusters: Afterlife.  It's the perfect motion picture and quite fitting for this Thanksgiving season.

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A joyful Christmas despite myself

Here I am, the day after Christmas 2014.  And I'm only writing this because a lot of people were praying for me yesterday, that I might get through this holiday.

Grief is hard enough already.  It's especially heartbreaking when it comes so close to the holiday season and you see that empty chair at the table.  It's not something that I haven't experienced already.  Mom passed away three days after Christmas three years ago, and because of that there was already a shadow cast over Christmas and New Year's.  On my 26th birthday we buried my grandmother: something that I'm always reminded of on that day of the year.

This year has been more excruciating than anything I was prepared for.  Because it's so fresh.  Because it's only now sinking in that Dad is gone and is not coming back, no matter how many times I keep expecting him to come through that door every morning, or whenever I see his truck parked at home and find myself thinking that he's inside playing with our dog.

For the several days and maybe a week and a half before Christmas, I was doing pretty well.  Our theatre guild was in the midst of its production of It's A Wonderful Life: The Musical and being around so many people - people who I have worked with before and people who I only now have had the pleasure of making friendships with - was a pick-me-up that I sorely needed more than I'd realized.  And then the show ended this past Sunday and just like that the joy began leaving me.

Let me be more succinct: I knew what was coming and I did not want to have to go through it.  But Christmas was coming, and I had to bear it.  I'm not the only one going through this either: two very dear friends and their family are also going through this holiday season without their mother, a wonderful woman who passed away a month before Dad did.

Tuesday was hell.  Christmas Eve I was assaulted with a lot of thoughts that I cried to God to please take away.  Thoughts about Dad.  Thoughts about being alone, not in the "no friendships" way.  It has been my dream to be a husband and a father for so very long and only now have I been able to reach a state of mind that could let me have that... but I've missed a decade and a half of life because of mental illness and having that happiness seems further away than ever.

It has been a hard thing to be without Dad in other ways too, because he really was supporting me as I wrote my book.  I lost a lot of dependable work this past spring because of an extended bout of severe depression - enough to keep me from writing a word for a major project - and I've been struggling ever since to make up for it.  For now, let's just say that I'm scraping by.  But in a very weird way, I'm thankful for where I am at the moment.  It has re-taught me about the things that do matter most in life.  I am realizing more than before that for all of my circumstance right now, that I am better off than a lot of people who suffer from mental illness.  I may not be where I want to be, but God is providing for me and I'm not having to go hungry.  It is teaching me to rely on God more than I ever have before, and I am thankful for that.

I had no idea that poverty could be so much fun!

(Okay, forget I said that.  It's NOT exactly "poverty".  A tremendous lack of previous resources perhaps, yes... but I'm eating and get to stay warm at night and have a roof over my head: something that too many people in this world can't get to say that they have.)

All of those regrets and more came upon me on Christmas Eve and I desperately wanted to flee them.  I took my medication early that night and tried to go to sleep.  It only lasted until 1 in the morning, at which point I took MORE medication and tried to let it work.  By 8 it was clear that nothing had worked.  Only breakfast at my aunt and uncle's place at 9 brought direly-welcomed respite from the sadness and despair.  I got to have a little Christmas after all.  In fact, it was a Christmas that will go down as one of the most memorable of my life.

Then I came home and took even more medicine and crawled into bed and curled up in the fetal position and waited for the day to end.

I don't know what made me wake up at 4 in the afternoon.  Maybe it was Tammy - my dog - scratching at the door to go out for "relief".  I took her out and when I came back the urge to talk to someone... to anyone... overwhelmed me.

I went on Facebook and asked people to please hold me up in prayer right then, because I was needing it.  And then I spent the next three and a half hours on the phone talking to some especially close friends.

And after that, I came away feeling the most uplifted, encouraged and spiritually renewed than I have been since well before Dad died.

One friend, someone who is as close to me as a sister, told me something that I hadn't thought of: that Dad and Mom were having their first Christmas together in three years.  And that Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus and that now Mom and Dad get to celebrate Christmas in the presence of Christ Himself.  She also told me something else: that Heaven really is closer to us than we realize.  We just can't see it with eyes on this earthly shore.  But our loved ones are there, they really are.  Which is funny, because a second friend shared that same thought with me just as many weeks ago.

During a conversation with another friend, he shared an essay with me, about grief during Christmas time, and a reminder that though we may grief, our grief is not that of this world.  Still another friend reminded me that I am unbelievably blessed with friends and family... and friends who are close as any family can be.  As Clarence Oddbody told George Bailey: a person with friends is far richer than anything that money can provide on this earth.

That's something too.  I had found myself asking God to please show me that my life did have purpose and meaning, that despite how things have gone that I might have a wonderful life.  I had secretly hoped for some direct message from Him.  In the end God didn't send a "second class angel" at all.  He sent people who are so very dear and precious to my heart, and in their own way they each helped to convey the precisely right message that I needed to hear.

Yesterday evening I ended up feeling joy and contentment and peace that I had not thought possible.  I felt cheered-up enough to spent the rest of the night comforted by the peace of God, that surpasses all understanding.

I even felt cheered-up enough to do something that earlier in the day I did not have any interest in at all: watching this year's Doctor Who Christmas special.  I'm glad that I did.  "Last Christmas" was like John Carpenter's The Thing meets Inception meets Miracle on 34th Street with a little dash of Alien.  Solid entertainment courtesy of the Doctor Who franchise.  I needed that too.

I let the rest of the night go on as I let the feeling of Christmas joy wash over me, and linger past midnight.  Then I went to bed, but not before thanking God for bringing me through the grief and letting me have joy on this holiday: joy that I hadn't ever expected and will remember for the rest of my life.

Let me put it this way: this Christmas was a Christmas of miracles for me.  I couldn't have gotten through it without the prayers of a lot of amazing people.  And I could not have come through it without God providing friendships and family who lifted me up exactly as I needed for them to do.  There have been a lot of instances this past month and more that I have seen timing happen in ways that can only be described as perfect.  Some of those involved loss.  This time, it was timing that led to me gaining something.  Something that aroused a greater faith in God than I had been prepared for.  That it came just in time for Christmas was the proverbial cherry on top.

Dad would want me to have been happy this holiday, even without his presence at the breakfast table yesterday morning.  He would want me to go on with my life, and to be happy and to keep finding happiness.  My friends encouraged me to know that there is still plenty of time to have the happiness that I have dreamed of having for so long... and I believe them.  One of these years, in the not too distant future, I hope that will be me sharing photos on Facebook of my children having Christmas morning.  I long to see Christmas through their eyes, just as Dad saw it through those of my sister and I.

This, was a far better Christmas than I was ready to be blessed with.  I don't think that would have been possible without some of the despair and depression that I went through on the way to it.  Maybe that is God's timing too: that I might have a lot of sadness before I could appreciate the joy.

I like to believe so.

This was one of the best Christmases that I've ever had.  I don't know how those in years to come will compare, but this Christmas is forever going to be part of me that I will take with me always.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go.  There is a handsomely-endowed gift card for Barnes & Noble in my possession that is screaming to be put to good use this afternoon :-)

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It's a very Dalek Christmas!

Okay, that's it.  I give up.  I didn't know how having a Christmas this year was going to be at all possible.  In light of everything that's happened in the past nearly two months, yuletide joy was something that seemed way past feasibility.  Although, I haven't begrudged anyone from having that.  Just feels like I'm on the outside looking in this year, is all.

But then before tonight's performance of It's A Wonderful Life: The Musical two young ladies who I've been working backstage with surprised me with a little something.  And as I told Joy and Makia, this has to be the sweetest thing that has happened to me since Lord knows when.

Look!  Dalek action figures from Doctor Who!

Joy and Makia spotted these in a nearby store and... well, words cannot possibly convey how touched I am to be given these by two such wonderful people.  As you can see that's the classic Dalek seen in "Genesis of the Daleks" from 1975 during the Tom Baker era.  Along with one of the utterly insane variants witnessed two years ago in "Asylum of the Daleks" from the midst of Matt Smith's reign as the Doctor.

I can't help but feel some Christmas cheer now.  It's A Wonderful Life is a story about how every life has meaning.  Your own life too.  Even if you can't see on your own how it could be.  In the end George Bailey discovered that he had riches that he never imagined, and right now - in the midst of where life has led me these past few months - being given these Dalek figures by two friends I've made through this production has let me feel much like George Bailey.

Incidentally, these are the very first anything of the Daleks that I've ever owned.  I've been a fan of them for almost as long as I've been watching Doctor Who (more than thirty years now) but for whatever reason I've never had any to call my own.  They now have a very special place of honor: on my "motivational table" on my computer desk, sitting next to the monitor.  It has things on it that I sometimes look at while I'm writing my book.  Already on it are Emmet and Wyldstyle minifigs from The LEGO Movie, and three expansion packs for the Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures game (which will remain unopened and unplayed-with until my work on the book is finished).  Two Daleks in the fore of it all is going to be the cherry on top, 'cuz hey: it's tough getting more motivational than having two Daleks aiming their guns at you, right?

Thanks again to Joy and Makia for giving me a lot to smile about this holiday season :-)

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"Every one I know goes away in the end..."

Eleven months ago I posted this video following the death of my mother. It seemed like the song most reflective of the emotion that I was feeling.

In the past few weeks no less than five people who I had known for most of my life have also passed away. There are a few with us still, who are now being comforted in their final days.

Yesterday a friend for more than thirty years, a person I had known since kindergarten and came up through high school with, was taken from us.

I posted it on Facebook late last night, and some said that it was the perfect song for what a lot of longtime friends and family are going through right now. And since she was a huge fan of country music, it seemed all the more appropriate to use it here too, in her memory.



Michelle, we thank God for the time He gave us with you. We will always remember your bubbly personality, your beautiful smile, and your zest for life.

Until we all meet again...

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Congratulations Jerel and Grace!

Awright, so it comes almost three weeks too late. I've had a lot going on here and it just kinda slipped my mind.

But a wedding is always a good thing to celebrate!

So to great friends Jerel and Grace: congratulations on your nuptials! You guys had a beautiful ceremony and I am thankful to have been there to see the two of you off on your adventure through life together.

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Reida Drum, classy lady extraordinaire, has passed away

How does one begin to describe Reida Drum?

Nothing I could possibly write would ever come close to encapsulating her feisty nature, her high-minded priciples... and her personality resplendent with color and charm.

(Reida once told me that she liked how I described her as "resplendent" in a blog post. She said that was one of her favorite words.)

Reida was many things: an educator, an actress, an investigator, an administrator, and always ever a woman of raucous style and a spirit to match.

Reida was a woman of many hats... literally! To say nothing of the plethora of feather boas that she was often seen wearing. Many times over the years she would don hat and boa and come to the libraries of elementary schools throughout Rockingham County and read to the children, who knew her as "the Feather Lady".

She taught English at the old Bethany High School. How did she wind up with that job? The superintendent at the time, Allan "Doc" Lewis, knew her from professional acting. And he told her that he needed someone who "could scare the hell out of those students!" That's a true story: Doc told me and Reida confirmed it some years later. Maybe she did scare them at that. But I also know that it was only because she sincerely cared a lot about young people and encouraging them to apply their minds.

I first came to know Reida around 1997, across some e-mail correspondence regarding a very peculiar episode in local history (two of her students began a project for English class and it wound up nearly getting their community to secede from the United States: that's a true story too!). We finally met in person in 2002, at a meeting of the Rockingham County Board of Education. And then four years later both of us wound up as candidates for the five new at-large seats. Reida won handily, and once again served the county as a member of the Board of Education. In all, she was on the board for eight years.

Most of all though, I remember Reida as the very dear friend who I came to have in recent years. Someone who provided not only kind and wise advice, but was also a listening ear and practically a shoulder to cry on during an especially dark period of my life. For that, I will always be thankful.

It is with a sad heart that I must report that Reida Drum passed away yesterday, at the age of 75. She leaves behind many family and friends, along with a vibrant impression that will forever be etched into grateful memory.

I'll miss you Reida. But I've also no doubt that you're parading down the streets of gold this morning, wearing your finest hat and feather boa.

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A good friend just started a franchise biz!

Nicholette Haynes is a very dear and sweet friend. And earlier today she announced that she had begun a PartyLite home business. PartyLite is an outfit that sells things like candles (especially scented ones), home decor and sweet-smelling stuff for bath and such. There's some great stuff that Nicholette is selling as a PartyLite consultant and you can find them all on her new website! Give it a looksee and give Nicholette some business :-)

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In memory of Mike Ashley

"The good die young."

Those were the words of my grandmother, twenty-five years ago this evening. And when those words were the most semblance of comfort that an eleven-year old kid had to grasp - even if he didn't really understand what it meant at the time - on what was at the time the absolute worst day of his life...

...well, they kinda stick with ya, even a quarter century later.

Heck, I can even still remember what I was wearing that day, what Granny was wearing, the most miserable dinner of pizza that I would ever have, all of the vehicles like neighbors' cars and the ambulance and the deputy sheriff cruisers that descended on our farm that afternoon. I can even tell you what show that I watched on television that night, trying and failing to lose myself, to stop thinking about it all...

...but most of all, I remember crying. Being inside the house with my sister and our two dachshund puppies, watching from the windows. I still remember calling my life-long best friend Chad, telling him about what happened: now I realize that I was desperate for a voice to talk to. And I couldn't stop crying. Harder than I ever had before until that day.

It was the ambulance arriving that first made me panic. The lady who took care of my other grandmother in the house across the road, she came to our front door. The first words that came out of me were "Did something happen to Dad?!"

No, Dad was okay.

But Mike had been killed.

Mike Ashley: 19 years old. Brown haired, a little bit of a mustache. As upstanding and Christian of a young man as you were ever likely to meet. He knew Dad because Dad had been friends with his father. And early in the summer of 1985, Mike started working on our dairy farm as a hired hand.

Being able to say that I grew up and worked on a dairy farm: that is something that I am very proud of. And with each passing year I realize how much happiness there could be found in that. I couldn't do too much, being about ten when I started. But on occasion Dad did let me help a calve to be born. And I can honestly say that I have milked cows by hand (go watch that scene in Witness where Harrison Ford's character is up at 4 a.m. to milk the cows on that Amish farm... and then imagine your friend and humble blogger doing that :-).

It was the people that Dad hired to work on our farm that I remember most vividly. Maybe that had something to do with my outlook on human nature, 'cuz at a very early age I had come to know so many kinds of people. They were white. They were black. They were migrant laborers from Mexico (some of whom spoke not a word of English, but we all seemed to understand each other somehow). They were my cousin Craig and my Uncle John. Some of them were characters in their own right. Others were - in their own way - downright silly. All of them worked hard, sometimes for a season and then going back to whatever or wherever, sometimes coming back to work again.

Mike Ashley though...

He worked as hard as anyone. Always cheerful, always smiling and with a twinkle in his eye. He was looking to go into farming as well, so this was kinda like college for him.

He was with us on the farm for two months. And in that time, well...

...he became the closest thing to an older brother that I would ever have.

I fast came to look up to Mike. Maybe it was the noble qualities that he had: qualities that in retrospect, I decided that I wanted to have in my own life. He became a role model to me.

And the thing is, I was admittedly pretty offbeat even as a kid. Mike was the first "grownup" who I had any extended time with who was sincerely interested in the things that I was interested in. And that had a lot of appeal to me.

So a lot of times in the afternoon, after Dad and Mike and whoever else had lunch and Dad took his usual nap before the afternoon milking, Mike would want to see the books that I was into. He enjoyed reading my comic books. He really loved going through my stash of MAD Magazines. And he even thought that my Transformers toys were very cool.

That is the last, best memory that I have of Mike. He was in my room on the afternoon of August 6th, and I was showing him how to convert my army of Autobots and Decepticons into their respective cars, trucks, guns, cassette tapes, what have you. Mike was instantly hooked on them! Pretty soon he was transformin' 'em just as well as me or anybody.

That was the afternoon of August 6th, 1985. And that night I found myself thanking God for the friendship that I had with Mike.

It was the very next day that Mike died on our farm.

He had been on a tractor, scraping cow manure into a manure spreader. And if you don't know already cow manure is some of the best fertilizer imaginable. On a small farm it is a very valued and precious resource. And it was something that had been done like a zillion times.

It worked like this: the manure spreader was parked below the high end of a ramp. Whoever was on the tractor would tow a bladed attachment and scrape manure that had come out of the barn and cattle stalls, off the ramp and into the spreader.

That is what Mike was doing.

To this day we don't know what caused it to happen. Maybe he saw a deer off in the field and was momentarily distracted.

The tractor drove over the top of the ramp and flipped over. Mike was killed instantly.

It was Dad who found him a short while later. He saw smoke coming from behind the barn. And then he saw the overturned tractor with Mike pinned beneath it.

A short while later the emergency vehicles and lots of cars and trucks started arriving. Mom got the call at work and rushed home immediately. She dropped my sister and me off at her mother's that night.

That's when Granny remarked that "The good die young."

Twenty-five years later and I'm still trying to suss it all out. I'd still like to know why God took Mike away from us: so young. So upstanding. So good...

He would have been 44 now. He should have known what it was like to be a husband and a father, 'cuz there's no doubt in my mind that he would have been the best. He should have had all the opportunities that a person as sweet and virtuous as he was... well, I think good people deserve more, anyway!

It's enough to make me question my own life. I'm now 36. Still young (and like to think that I'll always have that childlike quality no matter how many years go by), but I've had many more years than Mike ever got. Almost by twice as much. I look at myself and I don't see a necessarily "good" person. I see a flawed, messed-up guy who... doesn't deserve anything at all.

So help me, I have told God more times than I can count how unfair it is. That He would take someone like Mike Ashley from us and leave me - a complete screw-up who fails too many times more than I've ever succeeded - still here.

(Yeah I'll go ahead and admit it, for the first time: I am now divorced. And there is more that I am feeling led to write about that and have been feeling it for some time, but for now God is making me wait on that. It's not something to be proud of but at the same time, I cannot but feel that God has used this period to grow and mature me and make me appreciate His grace more than I ever have before... but that's an essay for another time.)

My life has been one cluster-#&@% after another. Why couldn't God have taken me? Why, why did He take Mike instead? Why does He seem to always take the people who deserve to have long, full lives on this earth?

"The good die young."

That is the closest thing to an answer that I have ever had. Maybe more so now than I ever did then, I have to draw some comfort from them.

Because God's ways... really aren't our ways at all. We expect Him to hand out goodies to us, rarely stopping to understand that this world is still a fallen place and tragedy does come from it.

I might still question Him at times. But, I am no longer angry with Him. About anything that has happened in my life. At long last I can see, and be thankful, that in spite of ourselves God doesn't mess up. That from each thing, for those who do love Him and seek after Him, He will never cease to eternally labor for our benefit.

A quarter century later, and I am thankful to God more than ever before: that He put Mike Ashley into our lives, for however brief a span.

And now you know, dear reader, that once there was a man and his name was Mike Ashley. And that he was a good man. He was someone that I have long strived to honor (and often missing the mark) with my own life and my own actions. And if others had the honor of knowing Mike, he would have left them with just as wonderful an impression from his strength of character, his humbleness, and his enthusiasm.

He was taken from this earthly realm twenty-five years ago today. I still miss him. And I still love him as the older brother that I never had.

And I do rejoice that he was here... and that he will be waiting for us all someday.

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Photos of those Belgians!

All two regular readers of this blog know that last week I hosted four friends from Belgium in my home. We had quite a number of interesting adventures while they were here... and things got so wild we even had to dial 911! So to memorialize the fun times I thought I'd post a few pics from the past few days.

This is Bennie. She and I have been friends since 1992, when we first met while she was tagging along with family that was visiting from out of state (she used to be an exchange student with them). We hit it off so well that the following summer I visited her in Belgium... and that was my first time ever outside of America! We've hooked up quite a few times over the years. Here she is in the kitchen, making a special Belgian dinner...

What was Bennie and her family cooking up? Well, first there were these stuffed peppers and tomatoes...

And then for dessert, there was this chocolate mousse (made with real Belgian chocolate!)...

I'd thought that I'd gotten a photo of Bennie's stepson Gaetan, but apparently not. He does show up quite often in the camcorder footage though (so there is evidence that he actually exists :-). This photo is of his sister Fleur. And as you can see like any typical fourteen-year old girl, Fleur enjoys using Facebook to keep in touch with her friends (that's what she's doing on one of my computers, and incidentally this is one of the VERY rare occasions that you will EVER see my video editing room... and yeah it's a spare bedroom too :-P). The only thing really different is that when Fleur is on Facebook, she's doing it in French! How kewl is that?!

And finally, here is a picture of Bennie and her husband Eric. Yes, THAT Eric! The same Eric who told us last Thursday around 3:30 in the afternoon that he was going for a walk... and didn't come back. At 7 p.m. I had to call 911 because we had no idea where he was, Eric speaks no English, he was in unknown territory and this was the first time he had ever been overseas (or even on a plane trip for that matter). Around 7:30 a Rockingham County Sheriff's Department car pulled into my driveway and a deputy that I've known for years told me "he's walking up the road!" James didn't speak French and Eric didn't speak English but James told him "Chris Knight?" and Eric smiled and nodded. Turned out Eric walked to the end of the road I'm on toward thick woods, kept walking and ended up going more than six miles, then turned down a road he recognized from earlier that day and walked back along U.S. 158, stopping to get a Coca-Cola from a nearby store. When Bennie and I found him he was sans shirt and grinning like nobody's business. All told that was around FIFTEEN MILES that Eric walked through Terra Incognita without getting shot for trespassing, sunk in quicksand or held hostage by drug dealers. Someday I'm going to bring Eric (and Bennie to translate for him) to talk to our Boy Scout troop, 'cuz this guy definitely set a new standard for hiking in Rockingham County!

Anyway, here he is along with Bennie, sitting on the front steps of Speedwell Presbyterian Church near Reidsville...

'Twas quite a good time, with an old friend and some new ones. Lord willing I'll get to reciprocate and get back to Belgium sooner than later. It really is a sweet lil' country, and as you can see it breeds some rather hardy folks (not to mention being the home of Belgian chocolate, the Smurfs and Tintin, and the saxaphone).

Bennie, Eric, Gaetan and Fleur, thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now, y'hear?!? :-)

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"It's so hard to say goodbye..."

Well, Bennie, Eric, Gaetan and Fleur just left a short while ago. For most of the past week I have been host to four friends from Belgium: one that I have known since 1992 and her wonderful lil' family that we have had the pleasure of meeting for the first time.

And already, I'm missing 'em.

It's been a long time since I've known such a fun and action-packed last few days. Eric's incredibly bold hike through the Rockingham County wilderness yesterday, has truly inspired me. Dude only speaks French, and yet he took off on a fifteen-mile trek through woods and landscape that he had never seen before. Lord willing I'm going to get to bring him back just so I can get him to talk to our Boy Scout troop here, 'cuz he set a whole new standard for outdoorsmanship here :-)

And I made sure that Bennie left the recipes for all those exquisitely delicious Belgian dishes that she and her family made last night.

Oh yeah, I also learned something: that the Star Wars movies are perfectly suited for just about every language that you can think of! Not only do they translate well even for dubbing, but it's remarkably easy to follow along even if you don't know the language being spoken :-)

Well, anyhoo... they're on the road again, heading along on their tour of the United States. But Lord willing, we shall meet again and sooner than later ;-)

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Tonight's Belgian Drama: Mousse and Missing Person!

So Bennie, Eric and the kids insisted on making a Belgian dish tonight for dinner, so we went out this morning and got groceries from the local Wal-Mart (I also made sure that Bennie and crew leave town with a bottle of Short Sugar's barbecue sauce). Dinner was stuffed peppers, some kind of neatly cooked stuffed tomato which defies easy description, and potatoes and it was all awesomely delicious!!

But around 3:30 this afternoon, Eric went for a walk. And didn't come back.

Long story short, we had to call 911 and have Rockingham County Sheriff's Department look for him. A short while later a deputy that I've known for many years pulled into my driveway and said that he'd found Eric walking further up the road...

Turned out that the dude went for a walk awright. He walked more than five miles east through the woods, then hiked down a road he recognized from earlier today and headed back along U.S. 158.

All in all that was around FIFTEEN MILES that Eric - a Belgian citizen who speaks only French and extremely little English - walked through strange terrain in a foreign land, and arrived right back home ('cept for about 1/5th of a mile's drive that Bennie and I gave him on the return leg).

Are these folks from Belgium a hardy breed, or what?? :-)

Anyhoo, we are currently eating Belgian chocolate mousse (yummy!) and watching Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones in French (not subtitles, real French dubbing, thank goodness for DVD technology). I speak very little French, but as it's a Star Wars movie I understand it perfectly anyway :-P

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First full day with the Belgian Contingent

We went all over Raleigh, then came back and enjoyed a good dinner at Cafe 99 in Reidsville (and treated our guests to a karaoke rendition of "Hey Jude"... with terrific accompaniment by Justin and Haley :-).

That's just what comes to mind most right now. The whole day was well documented with still and video cameras.

Lord only knows what we'll do tomorrow but having four guests from Belgium in tow has been quite an interesting, enlightening and at times hilarious experience :-)

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The Belgians have arrived!!!

Four of the coolest people you can imagine, led by a girl who is very much like a dear sister, have come from the far land of Belgium and will be staying with me for the next several days.

Expect photos of whatever shenanigans we can come up with to appear on this blog soon!

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Baby Paige's dedication video

A few weeks ago I wound up helping with the video for a friend's baby dedication ceremony. Well actually she's more of my sister's friend (and my sister's in this video too) and they called here wanting some advice about audio editing, and I offered to do it for them and e-mail it for their project. Or something. Anyhoo, they had the ceremony for baby Paige a few days ago and because she's the cutest lil' thing, and because her parents are really great people and also 'cuz Lord only knows when I'll ever get to use pink as a border color for a YouTube video again, here is their presentation!

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