Long Live The Goat Man

(This photo was made in the 1950's as the Goat Man passed through my town)

Charles McCartney was born on July 6, 1901. In 1915, at age 14, he ran away from his family's Iowa farm. He eventually wound up in New York, and was soon married to a Spanish knife-thrower. When she got pregnant they tried to make it as farmers, but bad weather and the Great Depression wiped them out. About the same time, he experienced a religious awakening. A man on a mission, he hitched up his team of goats to a wagon and took to the open road with his wife and son. His wife made goatskin clothes for him and his son to wear as a gimmick during their travels, but she quickly grew tired of the road and returned to Iowa, taking their son with her.

Charles McCartney looked like a goat. He smelled like one, too because he rarely took a bath. You take a fellow who looks like a goat, travels around with goats, eats with goats, lies down among goats and smells like a goat and it won't be long before people will be calling him the Goat Man. And that is exactly how he got his name. Someone would spot the Goat Man and his goats coming down the highway, his wagon piled high. Word would get around and pretty soon parents would be driving their children out to meet him.

For decades he traveled the back roads of the Southeast. Sometimes there were as many as 30 goats. One team would pull a large wagon while baby goats and nannies rode. Great big billies walked behind to push the wagon up hills and to act as brakes. "People are goats, they just don't know it," he would often say. The old iron-wheeled wagon was piled high with garbage, lanterns, bedding, clothes, an old pot belly stove, and plenty of scrap metal that McCartney gathered and sold. McCartney would wander five or 10 miles along country roads each day, then pull over into a field in the late afternoon. He'd light a bonfire, which was never complete until he hurled an old tire on top. Curious townspeople would see the black smoke and wander to his campsite. There he would preach the Gospel, drink goats milk and sell picture postcards of himself.

Eventually settling in Jeffersonville, Georgia, he established the Free Thinking Christian Mission. From the mission he journeyed out with his goat-pulled wagon to preach his message of impending and eternal damnation for sinners. His path through the countryside was easily traceable from the distinctive wooden signs he tacked on trees by the roadside, signs bearing such harsh messages as "Prepare to Meet Thy God" with the fires of hell painted underneath.

Occasionally, McCartney was attacked and mugged during his trips around the country. During one such attack in 1969, three young men assaulted him while he slept in his cart. He suffered three broken ribs, and two of his favorite goats were killed. Following this incident McCartney retired to his Jeffersonville mission. In 1978 his home burned down, after which he purchased and lived in a bus.

In 1985, during one of his final journeys away from Georgia, McCartney set out on foot to California, hoping to meet the actress Morgan Fairchild, whom he wanted to marry. En route to California, he was again mugged and hospitalized for his injuries. Following his return to Georgia, he left the road for good in 1987. He spent his final years as a local celebrity at a nursing home in Macon, where he died at the age of ninety-seven on November 15, 1998.

The Goat Man came through this area quite regularly from 1936 through the late 1950's, and maybe until the early 60's. It is for sure he passed through at least twice between 1936 and 1939 with about 20 goats each time (Kentucky Stories/Byron Crawford).

During the mid 1950s, the Goat Man would come down U.S. 127 and through my town on his way back South. School classes at Clear Fork, which was located along his route, would be let out so students could go see the Goat Man, who would let the students pet the goats. My uncle was one of thos students. He well remembers the goats, the wagon and the pots and pans, and the junk on it, and the old bearded man known as the Goat Man.

Do you recall seeing the Goat Man? If so, I would love to hear your story. Send an e-mail in the space provided on my page.
 

Since writing this story, I have received hundreds of e-mails from folks in Tennessee, Georgia, South Carolina and Florida who remember seeing the Goat Man pass through their town. Thank you for your great response. There are too many e-mails to post here, but I wanted to include a few of the memories that have been shared with me. Also, be sure to read the comments section below.

When I was young, the Goat Man used to come through very often on the road we lived on. My grandfather and father knew him by his first name and he would stop to rest and talk. The last time I saw him was around 1963 when I was 12. He was a very interesting man who loved God. The pictures of him are just as I remember him. Thanks for keeping his memory alive. G.L., Rome, GA.

When I was a kid about 7 or 8, the Goat Man would stop in a small field about a mile from where I lived. Of course, our neighborhood mothers would make sure to tell us to stay away from him, but we would jump on our bikes and ride down to the campsite. We would play with the goats and listen to all the stories he would tell. He had a way of telling stories that would keep your attention and make you yearn for more. Soon, dad would drive down to the camp and tell us all to get home. When we finally got home from our visit with the Goat Man, mother would not let us in the house with our clothes on. She made us strip down in the yard and take bath number one under the garden hose. Then, we would have to go in the house and scrub again. Thanks, K.C., GA.

My father was transferred from North Carolina to Macon, Georgia in 1954. As a child of 12 when we moved here I was amazed at the sights of the big city. But the most memorable and unique sight I saw as we approached Macon was a very strange-looking man with a beard and a herd of goats pulling a loaded down wagon. Lo and behold, we later found out that we had encountered the infamous and notorious Goat Man! From time to time, after that first arrival in Macon, we would see the Goat Man here and there along the highways and byways of the area, and each time we were as thrilled as if we had seen the most famous movie star in the world. We loved to tell our cousins back in NC about this famous ‘creature’ and his goats, and although we never conversed with him, we felt as if we knew him well, and deemed him as a friend. T.R., Macon Georgia

I met the Goatman a few times. The time I remember best was when I was around 13 years old, and we killed 3 or 4 rabbitts for him, and he gave us a hand full of post cards. He was camped at Mt Pleaseant GA. - G.R.

Returning today from a funeral in Dublin, GA, I happened to see the old school bus that the Goat Man lived in back in the 1980's and 1990's. It was overgrown with small trees and vines and barely visible from US Hwy 80. When I got home, my brother-in-law had sent me a copy of a webpage you had written. At the end, it asked for Goat Man stories. I first remember seeing the Goat Man in 1963 or 1964 on the east side of Macon, GA. He was camped in a grove of pine trees in a triangular grassy area across from the Ocmulgee National Monument entrance. My mother drove us out to see him after coming back home from work and spotting him setting up camp. His wagon was filled with so much junk that I thought it would tip over. And, there were goats everywhere. He had them tied out, staked up, on top of the wagon, and on runs so they could get to all of the grass. Chess McCartney was so dirty you could barely see his hands, and he smelled like a thousand campfires and 200 goats. I could not believe that someone was actually hiding under that dirt and behind that beard. In later years, I remember occasionally driving past the old school bus he lived in and seeing him outside every once in a while with a few of his goats. J.R., Macon, GA

I live a few miles north of Macon, Georgia which is about 8 or 10 miles north of his bus (home sight). It was not unusual to see Chess walking around Macon at any given time of the day or night. He would hitchike up to Macon and then back down Hwy 80 to his home. Sometimes he would walk and pick up bottles and cans to sell. As a child, I remember him coming thru my home, which is about 150 miles from his home. My daddy would drive us out to his campsite in late afternoon to see him. I also remember getting behind his wagon along the highway and it would cause a back-up of traffic both ways as people slowed down to see him and his herd. H.F., Cairo, GA.

I met him back in the early 50's along the road in front of my Grand Father's Country Store. He and his goats spent the night in field owned by my grandfather. I remember him quite well.. He told some amazing stories to then a young kid from Savannah Georgia..

As a young child I remember the Goat Man coming thru our town (Sunnyside, Georgia) several times. When someone told us he was around we would all get in Daddy's car and go to see him. It was a wonderful experience for us kids and adults too. One year when he came thru my neighbor, who was always drunk, stole two of his goats and cooked them and sold them as cow meat. He and his friends went to jail for it. I believe this may be the incident that happened in 1969 where he was beatened and his goats were killed. same. S.B., Jackson, GA.

Helen writes...Oh, what memories your goat man bio brought back. I grew up in Chattanooga, TN. I can remember seeing the goat man several times during the 50's and 60's. One particular memory is quite vivid. He and his goats were traveling through East Ridge, TN on Highway 41. This would take him through the tunnel under Missionary Ridge. I wondered if he and the goats were going to enter the tunnel or go over the ridge. My parents also commented that they had seen him. He was well known, even though my family was not aware of his ministry.

The Calling

My grandparents grew up poor. Both came from large families and together they raised a large family. They were both Christians and they taught their children and their grandchildren to walk with the Lord as they did. They were together for fifty wonderful years. When he died she said she no longer wanted to live. One week after his passing, she went into the hospital, her body beaten down with emphysema that had plagued her for years. Two days later, she called her children to her bedside and, unable to speak because it took too much of her breath to even try, she took her finger and she wrote his name in the air. It was her way of telling them that she wanted to go to Heaven to be with her husband. She died two days later. It was a storybook ending to a fifty year marriage to the love of her life.

I think back on my childhood and I am able to recall the countless number of times I went to my grandparents home. My grandmothers bible was most always lying on the kitchen table, and most of the time she would be sitting there reading it. She would read aloud if there was someone to listen. Sitting at her kitchen table, I heard the stories of David and Goliath and about the den of lions and about Noah and the flood.

My grandparents lived the sort of Christian life we should all desire to live. Because of how they lived, most, if not all, in my family are Christians today. It is a great tribute to their faithfulness to God.

When we walk with the Lord in the light of his word, what a glory he sheds on our way! While we do his good will, he abides with us still, and with all who will trust and obey.

 

 

 

*In memory of Cecil and Dimple Speck.

Tuscon Shootings Affects Former Classmate

The shooting tragedy that happened Saturday in Tuscon, Arizona has shaken the entire country, including a former classmate of mine who lives in Tuscon.

As federal prosecutors brought charges Sunday against Jared Loughner, the gunman accused of attempting to assassinate U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, D-Arizona, and killing six people at a political event there, Mary K. Thompson was posting on Facebook her thoughts on the incident. "So very sad. Right on the corner of Oracle and Ina in a Safeway grocery store no less. I can't believe this has happened in our area of town. I never thought anything like this would happen there," said Thompson, who lived in the same community as I do during the 1970's. She graduated from high school with me. She moved with her husband to Tuscon in 1979 and, except for the seven years they lived in Kansas organizing a Church, have lived there ever since.

Investigators said they carried out a search warrant at Loughner's home and seized an envelope from a safe with messages such as "I planned ahead," "My assassination" and the name "Giffords" next to what appears to be the man's signature. He allegedly purchased the Glock pistol used in the attack in November at Sportsman's Warehouse in Tucson. Pima County Sheriff Clarence Dupnik said Sunday that Loughner acted alone.

Court documents also show that he had contact with Giffords in the past. Other evidence included a letter addressed to him on Giffords' congressional stationery in which she thanked him for attending a "Congress on your Corner" event at a mall in Tucson in 2007. Saturday's event was Giffords' first "Congress on your Corner" event with constituents of the new year.

Authorities released emergency calls in which a person witnessing the mass shooting outside a grocery store in Tucson describes a frantic scene. "I can't believe this was less than 10 minutes from home. I've been to that Safeway many times, and [my husband] and I were in a nearby restaurant not even a month ago," Thompson said. Loughner fired at Giffords' district director and shot indiscriminately at staffers and others standing in line to talk to the congresswoman, said Mark Kimble, a communications staffer for Giffords. "He was not more than three or four feet from the congresswoman and the district director," Kimble said, describing the scene as "just complete chaos, people screaming, crying."

"Someone in the crowd actually tackled the shooter and got the gun away from him. Otherwise there may have been more," Thompson wrote. The sheriff said three people helped subdue Loughner, described by a former classmate as a pot-smoking loner. Federal law enforcement officials were poring over versions of a MySpace page that included a mysterious "Goodbye friends" message published hours before the shooting and exhorted his friends to "Please don't be mad at me." In one of several YouTube videos, which featured text against a dark background, Loughner described inventing a new U.S. currency and complained about the illiteracy rate among people living in Giffords' congressional district in Arizona. "I know who's listening: Government Officials, and the People," Loughner wrote. "Nearly all the people, who don't know this accurate information of a new currency, aren't aware of mind control and brainwash methods. If I have my civil rights, then this message wouldn't have happen (sic)."

Loughner is accused of killing six people, including U.S. District Judge John M. Roll, an aide to Giffords, 30-year-old Gabe Zimmerman, and four others, including nine-year-old Christina Taylor Green, who was born on Sept. 11, 2001. She had been featured in a book called "Faces of Hope" that chronicled one baby from each state born on the day terrorists killed nearly 3,000 people in the U.S. Fourteen others were wounded in Saturday's shooting rampage, including Giffords. FBI Director Robert Mueller said the shooter's motive for the 10 a.m. attack was not known. Federal prosecutors charged Loughner with one count of attempted assassination of a member of Congress, two counts of killing an employee of the federal government and two counts of attempting to kill a federal employee. He also could face state charges in the killings.

In Loughner's middle-class neighborhood — about a five-minute drive from the scene — sheriff's deputies had much of the street blocked off. The neighborhood sits just off a bustling Tucson street and is lined with desert landscaping and palm trees. Neighbors said Loughner lived with his parents and kept to himself. He was often seen walking his dog, almost always wearing a hooded sweat shirt and listening to his iPod. "This idiot went to Thornydale Elementary and Tortolita Middle School. This whole thing is so crazy. [her son] will be at Tortolita next year -- so hard to believe there are these kinds of people right here," Thompson said.

Law enforcement officials said members of Congress reported 42 cases of threats or violence in the first three months of 2010, nearly three times the 15 cases reported during the same period a year earlier. Nearly all dealt with the health care bill, and Giffords was among the targets. She faced frequent backlash from the right over her support of the health care reform last year, and had her office vandalized the day the House approved the landmark measure.
Mary K. Cooper Thompson summed up what the entire nation is feeling when she said, "I honestly am shaken by this whole tragedy."

The Wesboro Church at Topeka, Kansas that is known for protesting at funerals has announced it will protest at the funerals of those killed in the Tuscon shooting. Mary K and her husband are helping organize a human shield to keep the protesters from being seen at the funerals.

Most of the content for this story was first reported on msnbc.com and involved several writers contributing from the Associated Press.

1/11/11

Today is 1/11/11.

A lot of people see 11:11 on their clocks. What is the significance of that?

I have no clue but September 11 is the 254th day of the year, but 2 + 4 + 5 = 11.

The date of the attack on the World Trade Center, 9/11, also means 9 + 1 +1 = 11.

September 11, there were 111 days left to the end of the year.

The first plane to hit the Towers was Flight 11.

The first tower collapsed within 11 seconds.

Flight #11 had 11 crew members — 2 pilots and 9 attendants.

The number of floors at the World Trade Center was 110 twice (110:110) or 11:11.

The State of New York is the 11th state added to the union.

Weird stuff.

Rosie the Riveter Poster Girl Dies

The object of a drawing my daughter, Marina, did a couple of years ago, has died. Geraldine Doyle, 86, who as a 17-year-old factory worker became the inspiration for a popular World War II recruitment poster that evoked female power and independence under the slogan "We Can Do It!," died December 26th.

For millions of Americans throughout the decades since World War II, the stunning brunette in the red and white polka-dot bandanna was Rosie the Riveter. Rosie's rolled-up sleeves and flexed right arm came to represent the newfound strength of the 18 million women who worked during the war and later made her a figure of the feminist movement. But the woman in the patriotic poster was never named Rosie, nor was she a riveter. All along it was Mrs. Doyle, who after graduating from high school in Ann Arbor, Michigan took a job at a metal factory. One day, a photographer representing United Press International came to her factory and captured Mrs. Doyle leaning over a piece of machinery and wearing a red and white polka-dot bandanna over her hair. In early 1942, the Westinghouse Corporation commissioned artist J. Howard Miller to produce several morale-boosting posters to be displayed inside its buildings. The project was funded by the government as a way to motivate workers and perhaps recruit new ones for the war effort. Smitten with the UPI photo, Miller reportedly was said to have decided to base one of his posters on the anonymous, slender metal worker - Mrs. Doyle.

For some 40 years Mrs. Doyle did not know the photo had become a famous poster.  Shortly after the photo was taken she left her job at the factory and went to work at a soda fountain and bookshop in Ann Arbor. It wasn't until 1984 that Mrs. Doyle came across an article in a magazine that connected her UPI photo with Miller's wartime poster.

For story about a 'local' Rosie the Riveter girl, read Marina's Rosie. 

Below is J. Howard Miller's poster and then the charcoal drawing by Marina (2008), then age 15.

   
            

Peace On Earth...May Christmas Hasten That Day

The first months of World War I had seen an initial German attack through Belgium into France, which had been repulsed outside Paris by French and British troops at the Battle of the Marne in early September 1914. The Germans fell back to the Aisne Valley and in the subsequent Battle of the Aisne, the Allied forces were unable to push through the German line, and the fighting quickly degenerated into a static stalemate with neither side willing to give ground. To the north, on the right of the German army, there had been no defined front line and both sides quickly began to try to use this gap to outflank one another. In the ensuing "race to the sea", the two sides repeatedly clashed, each trying to push forward and threaten the end of the other's line. By November, there was a continuous front line running from the North Sea to the Swiss frontier. The action was swift and both sides were determined.

But, in December something unexpected happened: An unofficial truce involving about 100,000 British and German troops along the length of that front. The reason?  Christmas.  It began on Christmas Eve when German troops began decorating the area around their trenches in the region of Ypres, Belgium. The Germans began by placing candles on their trenches and on Christmas trees, then continued the celebration by singing Christmas carols. The British responded by singing carols of their own. The two sides continued by shouting Christmas greetings to each other. Soon thereafter, there were excursions across the 'No Man's Land, where small gifts were exchanged, such as food, tobacco and alcohol, and souvenirs such as buttons and hats. The artillery in the region fell silent that night. The truce also allowed a breathing spell where recently-fallen soldiers could be brought back behind their lines by burial parties. Joint services were held. In many sectors, the truce lasted through Christmas night, but it continued until New Year's Day in others.

Ironically, just days before Christmas a group of 101 British women suffragists wrote a letter to the women of Germany and Austria. Under the heading "On Earth Peace, Goodwill towards Men, the letter said, "The Christmas message sounds like mockery to a world at war. Is it not our mission to preserve life?

The next Christmas, the two sides again observed an unofficial cease fire at the front but it was not as successful, thanks to strongly-worded orders from the high commands of both sides prohibiting such fraternization.

My prayer is that one day we will have peace on earth...may Christmas hasten that day. 

God bless you all and may each of you have a blessed Christmas!

"It Could Happen Again"

Peace On Earth, Good Will To Men

On Christmas Day in 1864, one of America's best known poets, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, wrote a poem he titled, "Christmas Bells." That poem would later be set to music and become known as, "I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day." Why would Longfellow write about 'Peace on earth, good will toward men' while the American Civil War is in progress? There certainly wasn't peace during that time. As a matter of fact, when Longfellow wrote his poem it would be months later before Lee would surrender to Grant. But, did you know that some of the verses in the poem were omitted for the song to shorten it, and that it is in those verses that Longfellow speaks about the war?

While the song is about the war, it is more about hardships Longfellow had to endure in the days and years leading up to the poem. Three years earlier, on July 9, 1861, his wife of 21 years, Frances, or Fanny, Appleton, wrote in her journal, "We are all sighing for the good sea breeze instead of this stifling land, one filled with dust. Poor Allegra is very droopy with heat, and Edie has to get her hair in a net to free her neck from the weight."

The next day, after trimming some of seven year old Edith's beautiful curls, Fanny decided to preserve the clippings in sealing wax. Melting a bar of sealing wax with a candle, a few drops fell unnoticed upon her dress. The longed for sea breeze gusted through the window, igniting the light material of Fanny's dress and immediately wrapping her in flames. In her attempt to protect Edith and Allegra, she ran to Henry's study in the next room, where he frantically attempted to extinguish the flames with a nearby, but undersized, throw rug. Failing to stop the fire with the rug, he tried to smother the flames by throwing his arms around Frances, severely burning his face, arms, and hands. Fanny Longfellow died the next morning.

The first Christmas after Fanny's death, Longfellow wrote, "How inexpressibly sad are all holidays." A year after the incident, he wrote, "I can make no record of these days. Better leave them wrapped in silence. Perhaps someday God will give me peace." Longfellow's journal entry for December 25, 1862 reads: "A merry Christmas' say the children, but that is no more for me."

To add to his sorrow, almost a year later, Longfellow's son, Charles, was severly wounded in a civil war skirmish with a bullet passing under his shoulder blades and taking off one of the spinal processes.

There was no entry in Longfellow's journal during Christmas of 1863.

And then, on Christmas Day 1864, he wrote "Christmas Bells." 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old familiar carols play

And wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men

And thought how, as the day had come

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men

Till, ringing, singing on its way

The world revolved from night to day

A voice, a chime

A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, good will to men

Then from each black accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good will to men

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearth-stones of a continent

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, good will to men

And in despair I bowed my head

There is no peace on earth, I said

For hate is strong

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead; nor doth he sleep

The Wrong shall fail

The Right prevail

With peace on earth, good will to men

What an incredible story! I admit there have been times in my life when I wanted to skip Christmas. I understand why Longfellow did not write in his journal during the Christmas of 1863. Even though it is about the birth of Jesus, Christmas can also be a sad time for people suffering like Longfellow did. His story is evidence that God hears us when we cry, and that He can wipe away our tears.
 
Most of the words in Christmas Bells fits the world we live in today. In the third verse, Longfellow writes 'the world revolved from night to day.' It was his way of saying he had finally found the peace he had been longing for. Where are we in 2010, night or day?  I think we all know the answer to that.  Just as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow found peace, so can I...and so can you. Longfellow assured us we can when he wrote, "God is not dead; nor doth he sleep. The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail with peace on earth, good will to men." Merry Christmas everyone!

"O give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good; for His mercy endureth for ever."

God Bless The Weary Pilgrim

God bless the weary pilgrim whose journey never ends. May he rest eternally in the arms of God. - The Notorious Meddler Nov. 25, 2010.

As weary pilgrim, now at rest

Hugs with delight his silent nest

His wasted limbs now lie full soft

That mirey steps have trodden oft

Blesses himself to think upon

His dangers past, and travails done

The burnIng sun no more shall heat

Nor stormy rains on him shall beat

The briars and thorns no more shall scratch

Nor hungry wolves at him shall catch
He erring paths no more shall tread

Nor wild fruits eat instead of bread

For waters cold he doth not long

For thirst no more shall parch his tongue

No rugged stones his feet shall gall

Nor stumps nor rocks cause him to fall

All cares and fears he bids farewell

And means in safety now to dwell

A pilgrim I, on earth perplexed

With Sins, with cares and sorrows vext

By age and pains brought to decay

And my clay house mold'ring away

Oh, how I long to be at rest

And soar on high among the blest

This body shall in silence sleep

Mine eyes no more shall ever weep

No fainting fits shall me assail

Nor grinding pains my body frail

With cares and fears ne'er cumb'red be

Nor losses know, nor sorrows see

What though my flesh shall there consume

It is the bed Christ did perfume

And when a few years shall be gone

This mortal shall be clothed upon

A corrupt carcass down it lies

A glorious bodyu it shall rise

In weakness and dishonour sown

In power 'tis raised by Christ alone

Then soul and body shall unite

And of their Maker have the sight

Such lasting joys shall there behold

As ear ne'er heard nor tongue e'er told

Lord make me ready for that day

Then come, dear Bridegroom, come away

Anne Bradstreet - Aug. 31, 1669

 

 

 

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

The Notorious Meddler

Ronnie's Apple Cake

"Thanksgiving is more than eating, Chuck. You heard what Linus was saying out there. Those early Pilgrims were thankful for what had happened to them, and we should be thankful, too. We should just be thankful for being together. I think that's what they mean by Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown." (Marcie, from A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving) 

Why do we celebrate Thanksgiving Day?

My kids think of it as a long weekend away from school. A lot of people look at it as the start of the Christmas shopping season. For me, it is a special time to reflect on the many things I am thankful for. One special thing I am thankful for this year is Ronnie's Apple Cake and all that it allows me to remember. You see, Ronnie's Apple Cake is more than just a dessert...it is a door that leads to a time in my life that holds many wonderful memories. Memories of my family, when we were all there...together as one. It was a special time in my life.

Ronnie's Apple Cake was not always known as Ronnie's Apple Cake. Originally, it was just known as the delicious apple cake that mom baked. I am not sure how many pieces of that cake I ate from the time I was a youngster until I reached the age of 21, but it was a lot. We all loved it, but Ronnie, my brother, man he loved it more than any of us, and he let it be known that it was his favorite dessert. That was fine by me. I didn't mind who asked her to bake it, as long as she did. Only later did it matter which child asked her to bake it the most. You see, that apple cake was the very last thing Ronnie would ever eat of my mom's cooking and baking as he sat down at the kitchen table on the afternoon of May 6, 1981. At 5:30 a.m. the following morning, we found him dead of a car accident just five-tenths of a mile from home. No long after Ronnie's death, mom announced that she could no longer bare to bake another apple cake again and that was the end of it. We understood. Never again would anyone ask her to bake that apple cake and that was the end of it.

"Isn't it peculiar, Charlie Brown, how some traditions just slowly fade away" (Lucy, from A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.)

President Dwight David Eisenhower once said, "There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were." Things have never really gotten back to the way they were for us following Ronnie's death in 1981, but one day recently - 29 years, 5 months and 3 days later to be exact - one very nice memory came back. It was Sunday, and after Church my son, J.D., and I drove to mom's house for lunch. I wasn't expecting to see mom's apple cake sitting there on the food bar, but there it was. Naturally, as soon as I saw it a ton of memories came flooding back as I recalled that time in my life when things were the way they used to be. I never expected things to remain the same after Ronnie's death, but who would expect that after such a tragedy? I am not really sure as to when exactly it happened, but somehow, over the years, I managed to put that part of my life in its special place in my mind, as I struggled to go on with my life.

Standing there, staring down at the apple cake I said, "Wow, you baked that apple cake!" Mom had forgotten about it, because she said she had found the recipe but did not know why she had not baked it. I reminded her it was Ronnie's favorite dessert and that after his death, she had said she could no longer bake it. She just said "Yeah," and that was it. It was nice to sit there and enjoy something I once thought to be the best thing I had ever tasted. 29 years, 5 months and 3 days. That is how long it had been since I had eaten that cake. The best part was that I was able to remember something my brother had loved so much during his short life. That day, I renamed mom's apple cake, Ronnie's Apple Cake.

As I write this, Thanksgiving Day is almost here. As Governor William Bradford of the Pilgrim Colony once said, it is a time to render Thanksgiving to the Almighty God for all His blessings. This year, as we always do, my family will gather together to enjoy one another in food and fellowship, and I look forward to it. I have witnessed many Thanksgiving Day's in my life and I have many blessings to be thankful for, including Ronnie's Apple Cake and all that it now means to me.

For those of you who are curious as to why my brother loved that apple cake so much, here is the recipe. I hope you will enjoy it as much as he did.

Ronnie's Apple Cake

Ingredients:
3 cups diced apples

1 1/2 cups of oil

2 cups sugar

3 eggs well beaten

3 cups self-rising flour

1 tp cinnamon

1 tp vanilla

1 cup raisins or nuts (mix well)
optional -1 cup powdered sugar
and 1/2 cup of milk for a glaze

Instructions:

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes to one hour

Another Hill (And Sometimes A Mountain)

I have spent almost the entire day listening to this song and it has blessed me tremendously.  The words speak volumes to me and I just wanted to share it with you. I hope it touches you as much as it has touched me today.  Thanks.  nm

I've been scorned by a neighbor whom I treasured

I've been deceived by a friend I held dear

So many times I've just wanted to give up

Then I remember my Lord is right here

chorus

Another hill and sometimes a mountain

Another road with rocks to hurt my feet

But when He walks along beside me

I can make it, there'll be no retreat

Well I questioned the loss of a loved one

I wondered why it had happened to me

But through prayer I found the answer

It was all so plain to see

chorus

I’m so glad that I learned to trust Him

His promise to me He will keep

I have no fear of tomorrow

For the Shepherd takes good care of His sheep

chorus

The singer is Donald J. Shockey.

O Brave Warrior

Today is Veteran's Day, an opportunity for Americans to thank the 24.9 million military veterans who have served our country as a member of the armed forces. So, on this day, I pause to pay tribute to you, O brave warrior.

General Douglas MacArthur once said, "The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war." Many members of my own family, past and present, have served this great nation of ours, from the American Revolution to Desert Storm. Some had to travel far from home leaving their families behind. Some suffered the shedding of their own blood, while at least two never made it back home. Another died at home protecting his family and community. All were grateful to serve their country because they believed in the one thing that none of us should ever take for granted - freedom. I am thankful to you, O brave warrior, because you were willing to do whatever it takes so that I can enjoy the freedoms I have in America today.

Singer Ysabella Brave said, "You don't get very far in life without having to be brave an awful lot. Because we all have our frightening moments and difficult trials and we don't have much of a choice but to get through 'em, and it takes a lot of bravery to do that. The most important thing about bravery is this - It's not about not being scared - it's about being scared and doing it anyway - that's bravery.

You don't have to look far to see that America truly is the home of the brave. I pray that she will always remain the land of the free, so that those who sacrificed in whatever way will not have done so in vain. I am proud of you, O brave warrior, past and present. Long may the flag of freedom fly in your honor. Happy Veteran's Day!