It's never too late!

An angel took my hand, and he said I have something to show you.
We stopped right above my grave.
People were standing next to my tombstone, they were talking.

The angel said, do you know these people? I did not recognize them.
I overheard one say, I know I would have loved him!
What did she mean?
The young man's eyes looked like mine, but how could that be?

 Then, I heard one of them say, now I know where my dad gets his mannerism.
 Were they talking about me?
 Could this be the son of the girl I once knew so many years ago?
Let me think!
Yes, there was this pretty freckled face girl, she was my first love.
I can still see her face, her long red hair, and those skinny legs.

I heard the girl say, I hate we found everyone too late to meet him.
Wow!
Could the young man and young woman be my grandchildren? They look old enough to have children of their own.
How did they find me?
Who told them about me?
What happens to that freckled face girl?

When my marriage failed, I went in search of the freckled face girl but, she had married another.

One day I saw my son, he did not see me and seeing him weighed heavily on my heart.
I wanted to tell him who I was and that I loved him, but instead I chose to walk away.

I spent many years in Chicago and married twice.
After dad died I moved south to be near relatives.
Tried marriage one more time we were married for eighteen years.

When I was a teenager my parents divorced.
Dad and I moved away, and sis stayed with mother.

Dad was a baby when his mother died so his sibling raised and spoiled him.
We moved in with one of dad's sisters until we could get back on our feet.
We both worked odd jobs, and work was slow.

When we left home all we had was the shirts we were wearing.
I was wearing my favorite yellow shirt when I met that freckled face girl.
She always called me the boy in the yellow shirt.

The angel took my hand he said, son, this is the family you never knew.
I once held that young man with red curly hair now with a touch of gray.
My how time does fly!

Several times I asked the freckled face girl, with long skinny legs, to marry me.
But her answer was always no.
I wanted to take her back to Chicago with me.
She said I am too young to be so far away from home.
Mom and dad will take care of us.
She said that she loved me but, love was not enough.

Tears streamed down the faces of the strangers at my grave.
The angel took me to get a closer look.
My hand fell upon the man's head. He reached up and we touched.
The man said, dad, I know you are here.

The last thing I remember while I was still on this earth, was my car veering to the right and I struck a guardrail.
I tried to steer my car back onto the road when I saw a headlight. I was too late, the car was too fast.
With a loud crash, my life was gone.
An angel came to carry me home.

My family watched as they lowered my body into the dark grave.
A shell of a body lies buried beneath the earth, but my soul lives in heaven.

My soul longed for my lost son, and now he's come in search of me.
The Lord has healed my soul. A man without pain.
The angel said your son needs healing of the soul.
That is why he has come in search of you.

The grandchildren needed to know their roots.
There was always a puzzle piece that did not fit in the older man's life.

I know someday our paths will cross.
It will be eternally.

What a sweet reunion that will be!
Well enough of this rambling! What are they leaving! They did not stay long enough! I wanted to know more!
Angel, will they come back?

2016 July 23, Saturday, W.C. Handy Festival Actives

Started the morning by going to the car show at Wilson Park 
Lots of different car styles, year models, and a wide variety of colors
I saw people I had not seen in years. 
By the time I had seen most of the cars, I was dripping wet and could not wait to get inside the Library.

Ford

1960 Volkswagen Beetle

1970 Hemicuda Plymouth 

Inside the Library, I joined several of my friends and we all enjoyed listening to Andreas interview Peanut Montgomery, Donnie Fritts, Scott Boyer, and Mickey Buckins.
Peanut was very funny he could talk for hours
Andreas said he should interview Peanut alone because he had so much he wanted to tell 
And it would take more than an hour for him to tell his stories. The interview ended with a Q&A at 12:30PM.
These songwriters started out as young men with a dream and over many years wrote a variety of songs. 

Donnie Fritts, Scott Boyer, and Mickey Buckins.

I had adequate time for lunch and to fill up with gas. 
I stopped at Jack's where I ordered a Kid's meal of chicken fingers and green beans.

Jack's Kids Chicken finger meal. 

Immediately I rode to Kangaroos in Sheffield to fill up.
I arrived just in time for the introduction and to pay for the trolley ride. 
A historical experience about black historical sites in downtown Florence called, Up from Slavery.
We rode past the St Paul AME Church 1878-1965, & the St Marks MB Church 1901.

WC Handy Cabin 

We rode into the parking lot and turned around at WC Handy's home and museum. We rode past the Burrell Normal School 1903-1960. We listened to the history of WC Handy's grandfather, and the story of Bessie Rapier Foster. We rode past the Dred Scott marker on Pine Street.

Dred Scott in Florence

If it had not been so hot the trip would have been enjoyable. 
The trolley was supposed to be air-conditioned but it was a long hot hour ride. The lady sitting across from me looked like she was going to pass out. 
My clothes were wet by the time the trolley arrived at the visitor center.

The Visitor Center was very inviting with cold air blowing from its vents so I found a good place to sit where I could see & listen to Mark Narmore, Mitch Mann, and Andreas entertain me for a couple of hours. 
I listened to, "That's What I Love About Sunday", "A Song About Neal Young on the Prayer List", "Moon over Georgia," "More Than I Could Ever Show", "Saint Louis Blues" and many others. 
The group started at 2:30 and ended at 4:40 p.m. 
The entertainment room was small and every seat was filled, and people were standing up. 

Mark Narmore and Andreas Werner jamming 

Texted hubby and said I would be late, to stop at Taco Bell and pick up supper. 
It has been an entertaining day.

Last LETTERS HOME

Letter home can be seen at Town Point Park Norfolk Virginia 

http://www.hmdb.org/marker.asp?marker=3475

Andrew Allard's letter was written Feb 11, 1777, REVELATIONAL WAR

February 11, 1777

Loving Wife,

My regards to you and our children, hoping

These few lines will find you all in good

Health as through the goodness of God...

As for news, I have nothing strange to

Inform you at present, only that I went

Out a scout one day this week along with

Lt. Willson, eleven more, and we all

Had a chance to come across the Light

Horse. I am a little distance from the

The rest of our men had liked to have been

Taken by them, but through the goodness

Of God, I got to the rest of our party and

We made a stand and we kept them back

None hurt upon our side. We lie in four

Miles, of the Hessian lines, and we use

They every other day. My love to all my

Friends, so I remain your loving Andrew Allard.

Andrew Allard

d. August 23, 1777 

Sullivan Ballou wrote on July 14, 1861, about CIVIL WAR

Civil War Union Army Officer 

He served as a Major in the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry. On July 14, 1861, Ballou wrote an eloquent letter to his wife predicting his death. He was wounded at the First Battle of Bull Run on July 21 and died from his injuries a week later. His sentiments in the letter became famous and were quoted in Ken Burns' "Civil War" documentary. 

July 14, 1861

My Dear Wife,

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps tomorrow, and lest I should not be able to write you again I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I am no more...I have no misgivings about or lack of confidence in the cause in which I amen gaged, and my courage does not halt or falter... Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence can break and yet my love of country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistible with all those chains to the battlefield. The memories of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you that I have enjoyed them for so long... If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you...

Sullivan Ballou

July 21, 1861

Robert A. Baun wrote on April 3, 1943, about WWII

April 3, 1943 

... A guy gets in some serious 

thinking out here... Sometimes when I 

happen to be walking along alone, say for 

 instance at night, I stop and say, "Well,

Bob, you are in a heck of a fix. What are

you doing here? Do you remember how 

you laughed at the idea of ever bearing

arms...? It's the fellows that have gone

before us who make us willingly bear

our burdens. Dear God, spare our lives.

for we are young and love life so much.

This is just a short incident in a fellow's 

life, I tell myself, and soon it will be

behind me and I will have forgotten it,

and settle down among you all again.

....This is one game I'm going to beat,

I know. When I played baseball I never

wanted to sit on the bench, always

wanted to play the whole game. And here

too, I'm going out every time, and while

too, I

I'm playing this game, I'm going to play

hard, and win.

Robert A. Baun d. April 1943

Bertram Arnold Bunting letter written Jan 17, 1968

BERTRAM ARNOLD BUNTING MAJ - O4 - Army - Regular 20 th Eng Bde Length of service 10 years tour began on Jul 9, 1967Casualty was on Feb 12, 1968In, SOUTH VIETNAMHostile, died of wounds, GROUND CASUALTY GUN, SMALL ARMS FIREBody was recovered Panel 39E - Line 2

January 17, 1968

My darling wife-

As this day draws to a close, I can only

think of you. Possibly I'm just emerging from

the R&R haze in which I've been enveloped for 

these past weeks. Until now the detail of our

the meeting was all so clear: I could still hear your 

of your absence is upon me; I know all too well

this feeling: I lived with it for the many months

before December. My only hope is that I can

survive this attack of my imagination upon my

sanity.

When we met again I can promise you that

there will be no wasted moments. Every minute

spent with you will be nothing less than a gift,

to be cherished. I have found that it isn't

necessary to always do: talking, eating

walking, dance, and swimming. There are many

times when I want only to know your presence:

to hear you moving around, to see you next to 

me. There are many ways of living-perhaps 

the simplest is the most satisfying.

Bertram Arnold Bunting

d. February 12, 1968

John Chilto letter written in 1777

John Chilton was Captain of the Third Virginia Infantry Regiment in the Revolutionary War. He was mortally wounded in 1777 at the Battle of Brandywine but refused to be carried off the field until the battle was over so as not to discourage his men.

My dear Friends, 

....We are on our guard and our men seem resolutely bent to give them a warm reception at the meeting... There were three ships and a tender lying opposite the enemy's camp about a mile below our lowest lines, within these two days two more and a tender have joined them. What or when we shall be ever ready to receive their attacks as men fighting for Liberty should do...

.... We had between 50 and 100 killed and wounded; the enemy about 300... On one side of the field of battle is a steep, rocky, precipice, where we imagine they threw many of their dead as the buzzards and ravens resort to that place constantly. 

.... I begin to think that mankind when engaged in warfare are as wary and timorous of each other as deer are of men and the boldness of one party increase as they find the other fearful.

John Chilton

d. Sept. 11, 1777

Meyer Davis, Jr. Letter written 1943 WWII

Meyer Davis Jr was the son of well-known orchestra leaders and was himself a violinist. He enlisted in the Navy immediately after the attack on Pearl Harbor. A petty officer second class, Davis was listed as missing in action after the sinking of the destroyer BUICK in 1943 off Salerno, Italy just before his 21st birthday.

....We got a submarine today!! There is almost no chance that we missed, and the crew is already cutting notches in their belts...

....In effect, it is just another rehearsal with the addition of sound effects. The fact that men die below us doesn't really come into the mind, they just happened to have the misfortune to be inside the sub when it went down. Essentially, we are killing submarines, not men- - if they want to have the bad judgment to be in the vicinity that's their hard luck. 

Perhaps the foregoing is only a rationalization of an uncomfortable feeling that today I helped kill some men that had wives and sweethearts, mothers and children.... but I have to try to be quite ruthless or I won't be much use in this war.

Meyer Davis, Jr.

d. October 9, 1943

KIA Gulf WarOn February 27, 1991, John Wesley Hutto died during Operation Desert Storm in Iraq at the age of 19. He was a(n) Private First Class for the United States Army. John was born on August 03, 1971, and was from Andalusia, Alabama.

January 31, 1991

Mom,

....I really do love you and miss you a 

whole lot. Can't wait till this war is over so's I

can come home. May not get to write you for a

while, but rest assured of three things. (1)I'll 

be home soon as possible. (2) I will write you

every chance I get to let you know that I'm still

kicking you know what. and (3) I love you more

than words, at least the ones I know, can say.

The Army ain't the life for me you can bet your

bottom dollar on that one too...You know

something else all of my dreams are about

some time after the war. And I believe that that

is a sign that I will survive. 'Cause other people

have dreamed about the war and seldom dream

of home or life after this war, which are the only

two things I dream about. The only two things, I 

remember were another dream I had where I got off

the plane at Hunter and you, B., and D. C. were

real not to come true, too real.

Gotta go for now.

John Wesley Hutto 

d. February 27,1991

http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=vcsr&GSvcid=404590