Sunday, May 1, 2022

Editor's Corner


By Mary E. Adair

May 2022

"When April steps aside for May,
like diamonds all the rain-drops glisten;
fresh violets open every day;
to some new bird each hour we listen."
―Lucy Larcom


May is filled to overflowing with many interesting dates to celebrate or revere, not the least of which are birthdays of those (like your editor) who chose this month to step on board this amazing planet we share. Some loved ones who were born in May are no longer strolling this land, like my wonderful mother who was 17 the day before I arrived, and my last hubby Leo who was 11 years my senior lacking 10 days. Very proud of grandchildren and step grands and a great grandson with May Birthdays, and so many beloved friends, some even on the same date as yours truly.


Bless May's positive effect for our magazine in that our authors are budding and blooming with compositions much as the leaves and blossoms are bursting forth on trees, shrubs, and all manner of plants. We are pleased to see John I. Blair, our most prolific poet and author, with a poem this month, and one of our columnists, Judith Kroll, as well.


Walt Perryman with four poems including a remembrance verse to remind us of May's most solemn observanve ("Never Forget,") and your editor added as an encore, one of her poems "Memorial Thoughts." Perryman's other three verses are "How I Prayed This Morning," "Rambling About A Little Bit More," and "Be Happy." Kroll's poem is "Ties," and Blair's is "Dead Possum."


Bruce Clifford, still penning laments, shows "The Art in You," "Belson 2," "I Saved Your Picture," and "Beyond Compare." Bud Lemire has four poems also, titled "Live Your Life," "Offence is Over The Fence," "Meth!" and a lovely one for Mother's Day, "Songs Mom Sang."


Danielle Cote Serar's column "A Mother's Lessons" addresses Boundaries this issue, and Judith Kroll's column "On Trek" discusses perceptions of one's Higher Self. "Reflections of the Day" by Dayvid Bruce Clarkson, includes an admonition to protect ourselves from 'garbage,' and blesses us with a couple of his lovely daily reflections. Thomas O'Neill once more shares a short story that's both touching and applicable for many.


"Woo Woo," by Pauline Evanosky, explains how becoming able to talk to Spirit was like her waking from a nap. Marilyn Carnell who authors "Sifoddling Along," brings personal insight about growing up in "Small Town America."


Mattie Lennon, author of "Irish Eyes," discloses the essence of his career in acting. He includes an audio link by the late Bill Meek, and a link on YOU tube to a current production of the play he was once in. "Cooking with Rod" reveals a treasured recipe: Rodrigo's Chicken-Green Chile Queso Enchiladas.


In "Armchair Genealogy" column, Melinda Cohenour who concluded the series "DNA: Complex. Tantalizing, And Nothing Short of Miraculous" begun in December 2021, is moving into one of her five "Brick Wall" genealogy areas with the hope that by focusing on one at a time will yield the defining pathway over or through that wall of common ancestors, in some cases aproximately 72,000 matches.


Bud Lemire's continued tale '2061' presents Part 3 for our readers. We will continue with future installments monthly. Enjoy!


Mike Craner, who is our Webmaster and co-founder, bears the knowlege and expertise to keep Pencil Stubs Online actually online. He does it well as we are now in our 25th year. Thanks, Mike, for everything!


See you in June!


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.


Armchair Genealogy

 


By Melinda Cohenour

DNA. It is rather incredible to utilize the very essence of God's creation of Mankind as a "research tool." Wow!


For those of my readers who have been following my columns, you should by now be familiar with the ongoing effort to break down five of my most peavish, annoying, frustrating, difficult, and trying brick walls. Three of these mysteries have defeated my best efforts for decades: James Sylvester Anderson (paternal 2nd Great-Grandfather), William "P. R." Joslin/Joslyn (maternal 3rd Great-Grandfather), and my paternal Great-Grandfather Earl Allen Carroll's father whose very name has confounded my efforts to verify. Purportedly, his name was Keene Anderson, he was born either in New York or Ireland and he simply does not appear on any document anywhere that I can find.


Earl Allen Carroll was born in Greenfield, Dade County, Missouri, 25th of April 1863. The county seat is Greenfield. During the Civil War, the courthouse in Greenfield was burned to the ground October 6, 1863. All vital documents became ash. Thus, his birth certificate bearing the names of both parents no longer exists. No Census record for Dade County or nearby counties reflect the name of Earl Allen Carroll or possible relatives. Of course, it would be another seven years before the 1870 US Federal Census would be enumerated.


The remaining two brick walls' de- construction efforts are for the benefit of my children and great-grandchildren. My son's wife, Roxanne Marie LeTourneau, never knew her father. She was granted, by custom and law, the surname of her mother's husband at birth, although he had abandoned her mother five years before Roxanne's birth. She and her sister were both advised they "would never know" the names of their two different fathers. Both Roxanne and her only sibling, Debra, are now deceased having gone to their graves too soon and being deprived of that most basic piece of information. Their children have expressed interest in learning of their grandfather's identity. It has been my personal goal to locate the Bio-grandfather for my son's progeny.


My first husband, father of my two children, was an adoptee. Sadly, he was placed in the Miami-Dade Orphanage upon birth, clearly the product of an illicit affair. We have been successful in identifying his Bio father through the miracles of DNA. However, my efforts to identify the birth mother are ongoing. My solitary research focus for the past several months has been to fill out the family Profile with the name of Johnny's Bio-mom.


To that end, I have worked feverishly to peruse the DNA test results for my daughter and for my son's son to isolate the results that derive from my side of the chromosome inheritance from those DNA Matches that are shared by my daughter and her nephew. I now have a working theory as to the identity of the Mystery Mom.


In order to verify or dismiss her identity, I have tentatively added her to the working tree for my daughter. Her profile is clearly marked SPECULATIVE, ADDED FOR RESEARCH PURPOSES to prevent other researchers from including her in their own trees. (Unfortunate that so many who have built their trees on Ancestry have elected to blindly copy into their tree every little factotum they find! Some poor family researcher down the line will be introduced to the Genealogist's migraine!!)


For many months now my research has centered around locating DNA Matches that somehow link to Mystery Mom's line. Those individuals whose DNA proves to be 1) a DNA match shared by my daughter, her nephew, and her half-siblings; 2) tie directly to Mystery Mom's ancestors or siblings, and 3) have a clear paper trail to known and proven direct line ancestors. Thus, we shall have both the DNA and documented traditional familial links.


It was my fervent hope to have absolute proof of Mystery Mom's identity by this e-zine release; however, I am not yet able to provide the name. I am still working to build new "Mystery Mom family groups" by adding the DNA Matches into the tree, along with going over every hint and adding each as it has been verified.


So, dear readers, the Quest continues. Hopefully, by next publication I will be able to "own" Mystery Mom for our tree.


Until then, please continue to explore your own Genealogy via the wonders if the Internet.


Good hunting!


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


Cooking with Rod



By Rod Cohenour

This is a very tasty, cheesy enchilada casserole. It is also an easy-peasy way to treat your family and guests to a dish that tastes like you may have spent all day in the kitchen preparing it. The dish offers you the opportunity to be creative as well if you'd like to add your own touch to the queso or layered ingredients.


Give it a try, I think you'll be very happy with the final dish.


Bon appetit~!!


Rodrigo's Chicken-Green Chile Queso Enchiladas


Ingredients:

  • 2 or 3 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
  • 2 Tbsp. Cumin, or to taste
  • 2 Tbsp. Chile powder, or to taste
  • 1 Tbsp. Ground Coriander, or to taste
  • 2 bricks Velveeta style cheese
  • 1 8 oz. brick Pepper Jack cheese, grated
  • 2 lb. pkg. shredded Fiesta Blend cheese
  • 4 8 oz. cans green chiles, diced (use liquid as well)
  • 1 cup whole milk (add as needed)
  • 2 lg. or 3 med. Onions, diced
  • 80 pc. pkg corn tortillas
  • Non-stick spray


Plan to bake in a large pan, such as a roasting pan typically used for turkey roasting


Instructions:


CHICKEN: Season the chicken breasts with Red Chile Powder, Coriander and Ground Cumin to taste.


Broil chicken quickly until golden brown on both sides, but not completely done. Set aside to cool while preparing queso. When cool, dice into approximately 1/2 inch pieces. Set aside.


QUESO: In double boiler melt both bricks of Velveeta style cheese. Add green chiles and liquid. Stir well to blend. If too thick, whisk in milk as required.


ENCHILADAS: Spray a large roasting pan, being sure to spray sides as well as bottom of the pan. (Use butter flavor spray for extra taste, if preferred.)


Begin by placing corn tortillas in the bottom of the roaster, overlapping as necessary to ensure good coverage on each layer.


Top corn tortillas with about one-fourth of the chicken. Add one-fourth of diced onions.


Top onions with one-fifth Pepper Jack and Fiesta Blend cheeses.


Drizzle one-fifth of the Queso over cheeses.


Repeat FOUR TIMES with Chicken. On FIFTH (Top) layer, do tortillas, then the last of Queso then top with the last of cheese blends.


Shown in the Roaster before cooking.


Bake in 350° oven for about 30 minutes (until top layer of cheese and Queso has become beautifully melted and browned.) This should ensure the chicken is fully cooked but not too dry.


Remove from oven. Let cool and set slightly before cutting into large squares to serve.


Serve with a choice of toppings such as sour cream, pico de gallo, fresh sliced green onions, crisp tortilla chips, and salsa of your choice. I like to serve a nice green salad, with optional add-ons like fresh chilled radishes, bell pepper strips, and avocado. Iced tea or lemonade suits this dish well.


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online

Woo Woo


By Pauline Evanosky

When Did Life Get So Interesting?

These columns are written to illustrate what life in the Woo-Woo Lane is like. I say Woo-Woo because it can sometimes be odd to an outsider looking in and is different for every person calling themselves psychic. From my standpoint? It is perfectly normal. At least, it is now.


It is difficult sometimes to know just how your life is different now than it was before because changes generally seem to take place gradually. One moment you are one way and then in the next moment you are another, but you never seem to realize the exact moment things changed. There was such a subtle change where time passed so slowly that I never realized when it was that I got comfortable speaking to boys. And, sometimes becoming psychic is like that. You are not and then you are.


The journey I took to become a channel seems to have happened gradually, taken a very long time, and yet, there was that one moment, emblazoned in my heart when I could see a before and an after.


I first broke through to that other side using a Ouija Board. I had some preconceived notions about it. I first experienced it as a young girl at a slumber party. I suppose I was 10 or 11 years old at the time. I can remember girls shrieking and giggling and asking each other if somebody moved the planchette.


The next time was with my husband during the time I was trying to learn how to channel and I had talked him into using the Ouija board with me. I was ecstatic when the planchette began moving around. I asked, “Are you my guide?”. No. It was Dennis’ guide. I didn’t care. Some concrete action on the board was enough for me even if it was not my guide. Eventually, though, Dennis did not want to use the board with me anymore. He said his guide Nathan felt it was not appropriate anymore. I was bereft because the board would not work for me if I used it by myself.


Six months or so went by until it finally worked for me and I met my guide Seth. In that one moment life changed dramatically for me.


I was Pauline before I began to channel and I was surprised to be the same Pauline afterward.


It is normal now for me to talk to Walter Cronkite, Charles Dickens, or my great-grandmother and ask them how they are doing. I make polite conversation with those who have passed on. And even though I know they are fine I still ask. For me it sort of bridges a smoother way into a more in-depth discussion of whatever we end up talking about. It is the same when you meet a person for the first time. You make polite conversation, find a common ground, and get to know one another.


I also doubt whether Spirit needs that gradual segue into a conversation, but it makes it more comfortable for me and they haven’t said anything about it.


The people I meet from the other side have always been nice. Nobody, as far as I remember, has ever complained about anything. Sometimes they joke around. Overall? They are content. There is no yearning for anybody left living to know any single thing even though the people left living generally do want to know where items are that have been lost or hidden. One of the most asked questions centers on if the departed knows the person left living misses and loves them? Yes, they know that.


Although they can no longer be with you in a physical sense they can be with you in a spiritual sense. Think of them and they are beside your side.


I asked my mother after she had passed how she could be with each of her five grown children simultaneously. She told me simply that she could. It was a concept I had to think about for a little bit. Sometimes I get a sense of her rubbing my shoulders. It is so strong that I find I can’t quite blink away the tears fast enough.


I have about the same luck finding things I’ve lost myself when I ask for help from Spirit.


Spirit will never interfere with your life lessons.


Those life lessons are varied for everyone. But, generally, finding things like lost keys is not going to do anything to upset the balance between Heaven and Earth.


An interesting plot point in stories is to show how people can live through the most horrible circumstances and incredibly survive only to be hit by a bus or something three days later.


You could say death will not be cheated. Maybe. The way I look at it is when your time is up it is up. This was a hard lesson for me to look at.


This is where charms and spells can make a lot of money. A charm to keep you safe. A charm to shield you from evil. Things like that. Turn around three times, hop in place for a while, and say a prayer. Did it work? I’m still here. It must have worked. If you have not noticed I do not endorse spells or charms. However, if they float your boat by all means go ahead and do it. I’m just saying you don’t need them.


Here is something I remember from childhood that headed right into adulthood with me. It was, “Don’t speak ill of the dead”. Why? Because it was disrespectful. Okay, but I was still angry with so and so. It is okay to be angry. You can ask your husband who lived with you for 40 years why he passed on and left you with so many troubles. Now, you have to move. Now, there is no money. Now, you are homeless, and if he had only left a life insurance policy for you….. You can be angry. Do you know why? Because you are grieving and that is what you are feeling. Perhaps, having vented your anger you might eventually begin to get over it and once again love the man who when he died disrupted your life so. That’s okay too. And, if you were to go to your grave being angry? That’s okay too.


It's all different, they’ve told me, once you pass on.


It’s like waking up from a nap.


That was the transition I made from not talking to Spirit to talking to Spirit. It was like waking up from a nap.


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


Introspective


By Thomas F. O'Neill

The Gift Of Intuition


A very young child will stumble many times when learning how to walk, but the stumbling does not make them a failure at walking. Through their innate drive and determination, they continue to pick themselves up so that they master the art of walking.


The failures in life are not the ones who fall flat on their face; they are the ones who remain flat on their face. On the other hand, the champions in life are the ones who pick themselves up, brush themselves off, and through their determination, they succeed.


Throughout his life, Lamont Fargo suffered from bouts of depression that demobilized him for two to three weeks at a time. The depressions usually hit him in a two or three-year cycle. He usually bounced back from these depressive states, but shortly after he turned 46, he fell into a depression that landed him in a hospital.


He has suicidal thoughts, feelings of helplessness, and worthlessness in his dark periods, and he will not get out of bed. He will try to sleep for days on end with no appetite for food. In the hospital, he was given one-on-one therapy and group therapy to help him find coping mechanisms to deal with his depression more effectively.


The Psychiatrist told Lamont that a chemical imbalance in his brain causes him to suffer from major depression. The medication that was administered to him slowly brought him out of the fog and helped him overcome his dark thoughts. After four months of hospitalization, he was released.


After a time, he went against his Psychiatrist's advice and went off his medication. The dark thoughts eventually returned, and he used every fiber of determination to overcome the depression, but finally, the darkness got the upper hand. He found himself in and out of the hospital during this period, but something inside would not let him end his life.


He usually had enough leave at work to carry him through the dark periods, but the last depressive episode and voluntary commitment resulted in the loss of his job. After twenty years of being a police officer and even a detective, he was unemployed. Through the help of his Psychiatrist he was placed on disability, and the department classified him as unfit for duty.


He was never married, and he had no children to support, but the little money he received made his life a bit difficult. He learned to live on his monthly checks after moving into a small apartment. He describes his apartment as his cave of solitude. He found he has more time to read and that meditating helps him relax. He tries his best to overcome his difficulties by controlling his thoughts.


As a police detective, he had earned a highly gifted crime solver reputation. Lamont told his superiors that throughout his life, he was highly intuitive. His intuition came in the form of knowing things without reason. He explained his gift to his superiors and others as “flashes of intuition or flashes of knowing.” These intuitive flashes would just come to him, sometimes overwhelmingly. He, at times, would pick up others' thoughts, emotions, and feelings; those inner communications, as he would describe them, guided him along when solving difficult cases.


He is also more receptive to his internal communications than the average person. He told his Psychiatrist that he would understand things and know things without reason or logic. He also had experiences of talking out loud as if he was witnessing the crime he was investigating. These beyond normal intuitive flashes always intensify before his psychological collapses.


His Psychiatrist wrote in Lamont’s file, “Mr. Fargo’s overly heightened internal sensitivity is due to his lifelong struggle with depression.” He told Lamont that his experiences are “a combination of the chemical imbalance in your brain and your internal drive to overcome the onset of depression. What you describe as your great gift also results in your depressive states.”


He told his Psychiatrist that alcohol dulls these intense experiences, “There were times I found myself late at night sitting in a bar drinking. Those late nights of drinking soon turned into early afternoons of drinking, but eventually, depression would overwhelm me and consume me for weeks.”


He rarely leaves his apartment or, as he would put it, “my cave of solitude.” Still classified as unfit for service as a police detective and living on disability. He was never entirely forgotten by some of the members of the police department. They never forgot his remarkable gift of solving complex cases, and they continue to call upon him for help.


When the phone calls came, he again felt useful and continued to go out of his way to help his old friends. His gift eventually caught the attention of other law enforcement agencies, and they too called upon him for help. He did not meet with them in person nor want his identity known.


With the help of his friends, he was given an 800 number for anonymity. People calling him from other law enforcement agencies do not know his name or location, and he never accepts monetary compensation for his service.


Officer Lou Phillips, a former co-worker, and friend of Lamont, was a true believer in his friend’s gift. He witnessed it in two cases that were solved a decade earlier.


Officer Phillips' cousin Dan Morris lived in Florida for many years, and he eventually became an investigator with the Florida State Police. Detective Morris came to visit his Grandmother, and he decided to go out that evening for a few beers at a local Bar.


Officer Phillips and Detective Morris started a conversation at the bar as they drank a few beers.


“I’m involved in a missing person case, the disappearance of a University student,” said Dan.


“We located her car near a ravine,” he said.


“Do you think she was abducted?” asked Lou.


“Her car hit a tree, but there is no sign of her,” Dan said, “The girl’s parents want me to call in a Psychic. I think those self-proclaimed psychics are nothing but phony charlatans.”


“Of course, there are people who are very skilled at separating people from their money through deceptive means, and charlatans will not hesitate to claim psychic abilities to accomplish that goal,” Lou said.


“I think they are all phonies,” Dan said.


“I know someone; he doesn’t claim to be a psychic, and he describes his gift as intuition. I had long conversations with him,” Lou said, “He told me that the average person has flashes of intuition, but they do not act on it due to their mistrust or insecurities of what is being communicated to them.”


Lou took a drink of his beer as if searching for words, “it's their internal communications that is communicated to them, but they don’t act on it,” he said once again, “There are also people who have learned over time to trust their instincts which can also be described as intuition. The more we come to learn about our internal communications, what we call flashes of knowing. The more we come to trust it because it is our truth at that particular moment in time.”


“Intuition and so-called Psychic abilities are two different things entirely. I am talking about the New Age mumbo-Jumbo,” Dan said.


“There is nothing new under the Sun, Dan. The so-called New Age movement has been around for a long, long time,” said Lou, “My friend told me that intuition is the spontaneous act of the soul communicating its knowledge to the conscious mind; it can be a feeling, a symbol that pops into our mind when we are enjoying that relaxing moment. It can be a symbol that comes to us in a dream. For some, intuition is knowing something about an event or a person without reason.”


“Sounds like Psychic mumbo-jumbo put into scientific terms. What I see is what I believe,” Dan said.


“There is nothing supernatural about intuition; it is simply natural. We all have intuitive moments in our lives. But we do not develop them to a higher degree,” Lou said, “We place more emphasis on our intellect due to our early childhood education. We learn to memorize things from early on, and our intellectual abilities become dominant in our lives. We need to develop a balance between our intellectual faculties and what we implicitly know to be true in our heart.”


“Next, you will be analyzing my dreams,” Dan said.


“Dreams reveal our inner conflicts,” Lou said, “they give us greater insight into our interpersonal relationships, such as who has our best interest and who to watch out for. Our dreams can also give us insight into the path we are on in life and guide us in making proper decisions.”


“Yes, on a Psychiatric level, interpreting one's dreams is important,” Dan said, “but there is a difference between a Psychiatric interpretation of our dreams and the so-called New Age interpretation.”


“I am talking about a holistic approach to dream interpretation,” Lou said, “as we delve deeper into our spiritual nature through meditation or other spiritual exercises. We come to understand how important our dreams are in communicating knowledge, and our dreams are one way for the subconscious or soul to communicate knowledge to the conscious mind. When we come to a greater understanding of our dreams symbols, we come to a greater understanding of ourselves and others.”


“I can agree with that somewhat, but I still think we should leave the interpreting to the professionals,” Dan said.


“When we come to a greater understanding of how our dreams communicate knowledge. We will be able to understand the dreams of others more clearly,” Lou said, “we will be able to analyze dreams to the point where we can understand how the person thinks and what the person is feeling at that particular moment in time. We will also be able to guide them into gaining a clearer understanding of themselves and the people in their lives.”


“There is nothing wrong with getting to know oneself better,” Dan said, “the danger lies in taking advantage of vulnerable people through deceptive means because they believe in that nonsense.”


“I am not talking about the phonies. I am saying that there are people out there who are genuine,” Lou said, “the more in tune we become to our spiritual nature, the closer we move towards altruism. Our motives in life become less egoistic and more altruistic. For the purpose of helping people develop a greater insight into whatever problems they are facing. I know a person like this, and he goes out of his way to help people.”


“And how does one achieve these incredible gifts?” Dan asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone.


"Meditation will help you discover and gain a deeper understanding of your spiritual awareness,” Lou said, “as you continue to develop spiritually, the lives of those around you become more enhanced. Spiritual development also enhances our understanding that we must first become true to ourselves in order for us to be true to others.”


“What you are saying kind of reminds me of ‘Gandhi,’ but how much of the movie was Hollywood and historically accurate,” Dan asked, “I just think you are reading too many New Age books.”


“Well I think ‘Gandhi’ would agree that the moment we become true to ourselves is the moment we find ourselves on a truly spiritual altruistic path in life,” Lou said, “it is also the moment we no longer seek financial or any other gain from those we help. We will have a deep spiritual awareness that what we give to others comes back to us in greater fold because what we give to humanity, we give to ourselves, and what we change in ourselves, we change in humanity.”


“I can agree with that somewhat,” Dan said.



"Altruism is also at the opposite end of the egoist moral spectrum because those who seek gain from helping others operate from their ego. They are the people we need to avoid on our spiritual path to discovery,” Lou said.


“That is absurd. We have to make a living in life,” Dan said, “we can’t be purely selfless; the economy would come to a screeching halt.”


“I understand where you are coming from, but I was talking about the people who claim to be psychic and try to separate us from our money for a reading. They are the people we need to avoid,” Lou said, “if my friend were here, I think his advice would be to begin your spiritual journey on your own as you develop spiritually you will begin to attract like-minded people into your life. However, you must begin by taking the time during the day or evening to quiet yourself and open yourself up to the essence that makes you truly you.”


“That sounds like sound advice,” Dan said.


“I think my friend can help you,” Lou said as he wrote down and handed him an 800 number to call.


Detective Dan Morris spent the last twenty years with the Florida State Police, and he would describe himself as a realist. He is a skeptic when it comes to people with that self-proclaimed sixth sense. When it comes to investigating a case, he believes good hard police work is the best way to find out what happened.


When reasonable, hard police work came up empty in the case of murder victim Julie Houston, Detective Morris relented and turned to the mystical magic of a Coalville, Pennsylvania man.


Julie Houston was a graduate student at Florida State University. She left the campus, and the police found her car wrecked against a tree on Shadyside Drive, ten miles from the university campus. The car was empty, with a large limb resting on it.


The police looked everywhere for her, and they had no way of knowing whether she was injured, had fallen, or if she'd been picked up by somebody. An extensive search, including helicopters with infrared scanners, boats equipped with sonar, dogs, divers, and more than 300 volunteers, failed to locate her.


Detective Morris was immediately assigned to her case, but he had no real leads. The girl’s father kept in contact with him every day. Julie’s Father and Mother told Detective Morris that they were considering contacting a psychic and asked if he knew one.


"My Cousin told me about a Pennsylvania man who assisted the police in the past,” he told Julie’s parents, “My cousin is a police officer and swears by this person’s abilities. I will telephone him."


When Detective Morris contacted Lamont, he did not waste time with introductions, Lamont was all business. Detective Morris provided him with the basics of the case.


“There is a lady's body,” Lamont said, “In a cave-like setting with rocks above her. She is situated in the fetal position, and a current of water is running across her legs.”


Detective Morris’s, skepticism soared.


"Monroe is a lake; there isn’t a current,” he told Lamont.


Lamont became silent for a moment, “no there is a current of water running across her legs. She is hurt in a fetal position.”


Detective Morris called him again the next day from the Moores Creek picnic area, an area a short distance from the lake. He was unsettled by how Lamont accurately described where he was standing.


Detective Morris was frustrated by Lamont’s insistence on the running water and the woman in the cavern. It was then that Detective Morris received a call from dispatch informing him that his "article" had been located near Salt Creek ramp, an area a quarter-mile from the picnic area.


When Detective Morris arrived there, he found an elderly lady lying in a fetal position in a deep ravine. A small stream of water ran over her legs, and a large outcropping of rock above her head.


It wasn't Julie Houston.



He immediately called Lamont, who was sitting in his apartment in Coalville, Pennsylvania. In mid-sentence, he stopped Detective Morris and said, “Dear God, It is the wrong body.”


Once Lamont regained his composure, he told Detective Morris that he could help him locate Julie’s body. He instructed him to return to where the car had impacted the tree.


Detective Morris called the 800 number from the site, and Lamont began speaking to him as if he was there with him.


"I'm driving down the road, and I don't feel too good," he said. "I am with Jimmy; he hit me,” he started to weep on the phone, “I am so scared, I lost control of the car. I ran my car into a tree, and something has fallen on my head. I'm hurting.”


Detective Morris listened and thought to himself, “is this an act?”


“I'm running now down a hill. Jimmy is mad at me, and he is going to hurt me again,” he cried out on the phone.


Lamont then told Detective Morris to proceed to the lake.


Detective Morris called him back from the lake.


“You are just off a small inlet,” Lamont said to him, “is there a large rock in the lake?”


“There is,” he replied.


“Is there a man standing next to a boat?” Lamont asked.


“There is,” came the reply.


At this point, Detective Morris was somewhat intimidated and could not quite understand how Lamont, with his coal cracker accent sitting in Coalville, PA, the heart of the Pennsylvania coal region, could accurately describe Moore’s creek in Florida.


“Is he really sitting there in Coalville, Pennsylvania?” Detective Morris thought to himself, “If so, it is like he is standing right here next to me. He could see everything I could see."


After a few moments of silence, Lamont, with his voice cracking with panic, said,


"I want to come up, but I can't. Somebody help me. I want to come up, and Jimmy put me here. I can’t get up."


Nearly a month after the day she crashed her car, Julie’s body was discovered floating near the inlet.


“She had been wearing a bulky sweater,” Dan told Lou on the phone, “and it appeared as if it had been snagged on an underground cable or some projectile. We think the sweater eventually worked itself free, allowing her to float to the surface."


“Was my friend’s information helpful,” Lou asked.


“Very helpful,” Dan said, “But I experience an eerie feeling each time I reminisce about that man's conversation.”


“His gift is genuine,” Lou said.


“That man I spoke with on the phone,” Dan said, “has never accepted monetary compensation for his service.”


“He never does,” Lou said, “he talks to many law enforcement agencies on the phone and to average people in need throughout the week. But he never takes money from the people he helps. He told me that the more he helps others, the more they help him refine his gift.”


"I can't explain how he did it," Dan said, "he just knew things he shouldn't have been able to know.”


“Well I wouldn’t have put my cousin in touch with a charlatan for a 20 dollar reading, now would I,” he said with humor in his voice.


The information that was given to Detective Morris also led to the arrest of Julie Houston’s boyfriend, who pleaded guilty to second-degree manslaughter in Julie’s death.


"I still don't have a lot of faith in psychics, and I still believe good, honest work is the best way to solve a crime or find a missing person. But there's no arguing this man had some kind of gift. There's just no other way to explain it,” Dan said to Julie’s parents.


Dan called Lou on the phone after the judge sentenced Julie’s boyfriend to fifteen years in prison for Julie’s death. Dan and Lou’s conversation once again turned to Lamont.


“Perhaps those spiritual gifts are nothing more than what we are evolving to. Perhaps some people are more spiritually developed than others. Maybe those gifts are part of our genetic makeup, but we never took the time to develop them further,” said Lou.


“I believe his gift is real because I experienced it first hand, and I find it a bit unsettling every time I think about it,” Dan said, “But I am glad he is out there using his gift for the service of others. Altruistically as you would put it or as you would describe his gift.”


"We can judge a person's true worth by what they give to others," Lou said, "not by what they charge for their services. My friend has a genuine gift because it is freely given, but at the same time, what he gives to others is returned to him in greater fold. When we give of ourselves abundantly, we gain an abundance in life.”


Lamont Fargo still has his bouts with depression, but since he has been helping others, he has remained out of the hospital. His anonymity is still being protected, and the people he helps have never learned his name or location.


He is still going against his Psychiatrist's advice to remain on his medication. He told his Doctor that the medication dulls his Intuition and that he needs to develop his gift further in order to connect with others.


Without his bouts with darkness, he never would have discovered the light or, as Lamont would describe it, “my gift.”


He now understands that his lifelong struggle with depression has helped him, “I am more sensitive to the small still whispers of the soul.”


The strength he needs to overcome his depression has also helped him understand his ability to help others overcome their difficulties and the overall strength of the human spirit.


“Helping others is my way of refining my gift, and they, in turn, give me a purpose to continue on in life.”

    Always with love from Suzhou, China
    Thomas F O’Neill
    Email: introspective7@hotmail.com
    WeChat: Thomas_F_ONeill
    U.S. Voice mail: (800) 272-6464
    China Mobile 011 (86) 13405757231
    Skype: thomas_f_oneill
    Twitter: https://twitter.com/Thomas_F_ONeill
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Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Introspective

By Thomas F. O'Neill

The Gift Of Intuition


A very young child will stumble many times when learning how to walk, but the stumbling does not make them a failure at walking. Through their innate drive and determination, they continue to pick themselves up so that they master the art of walking.


The failures in life are not the ones who fall flat on their face; they are the ones who remain flat on their face. On the other hand, the champions in life are the ones who pick themselves up, brush themselves off, and through their determination, they succeed.


Throughout his life, Lamont Fargo suffered from bouts of depression that demobilized him for two to three weeks at a time. The depressions usually hit him in a two or three-year cycle. He usually bounced back from these depressive states, but shortly after he turned 46, he fell into a depression that landed him in a hospital.


He has suicidal thoughts, feelings of helplessness, and worthlessness in his dark periods, and he will not get out of bed. He will try to sleep for days on end with no appetite for food. In the hospital, he was given one-on-one therapy and group therapy to help him find coping mechanisms to deal with his depression more effectively.


The Psychiatrist told Lamont that a chemical imbalance in his brain causes him to suffer from major depression. The medication that was administered to him slowly brought him out of the fog and helped him overcome his dark thoughts. After four months of hospitalization, he was released.


After a time, he went against his Psychiatrist's advice and went off his medication. The dark thoughts eventually returned, and he used every fiber of determination to overcome the depression, but finally, the darkness got the upper hand. He found himself in and out of the hospital during this period, but something inside would not let him end his life.


He usually had enough leave at work to carry him through the dark periods, but the last depressive episode and voluntary commitment resulted in the loss of his job. After twenty years of being a police officer and even a detective, he was unemployed. Through the help of his Psychiatrist he was placed on disability, and the department classified him as unfit for duty.


He was never married, and he had no children to support, but the little money he received made his life a bit difficult. He learned to live on his monthly checks after moving into a small apartment. He describes his apartment as his cave of solitude. He found he has more time to read and that meditating helps him relax. He tries his best to overcome his difficulties by controlling his thoughts.


As a police detective, he had earned a highly gifted crime solver reputation. Lamont told his superiors that throughout his life, he was highly intuitive. His intuition came in the form of knowing things without reason. He explained his gift to his superiors and others as “flashes of intuition or flashes of knowing.” These intuitive flashes would just come to him, sometimes overwhelmingly. He, at times, would pick up others' thoughts, emotions, and feelings; those inner communications, as he would describe them, guided him along when solving difficult cases.


He is also more receptive to his internal communications than the average person. He told his Psychiatrist that he would understand things and know things without reason or logic. He also had experiences of talking out loud as if he was witnessing the crime he was investigating. These beyond normal intuitive flashes always intensify before his psychological collapses.


His Psychiatrist wrote in Lamont’s file, “Mr. Fargo’s overly heightened internal sensitivity is due to his lifelong struggle with depression.” He told Lamont that his experiences are “a combination of the chemical imbalance in your brain and your internal drive to overcome the onset of depression. What you describe as your great gift also results in your depressive states.”


He told his Psychiatrist that alcohol dulls these intense experiences, “There were times I found myself late at night sitting in a bar drinking. Those late nights of drinking soon turned into early afternoons of drinking, but eventually, depression would overwhelm me and consume me for weeks.”


He rarely leaves his apartment or, as he would put it, “my cave of solitude.” Still classified as unfit for service as a police detective and living on disability. He was never entirely forgotten by some of the members of the police department. They never forgot his remarkable gift of solving complex cases, and they continue to call upon him for help.


When the phone calls came, he again felt useful and continued to go out of his way to help his old friends. His gift eventually caught the attention of other law enforcement agencies, and they too called upon him for help. He did not meet with them in person nor want his identity known.


With the help of his friends, he was given an 800 number for anonymity. People calling him from other law enforcement agencies do not know his name or location, and he never accepts monetary compensation for his service.


Officer Lou Phillips, a former co-worker, and friend of Lamont, was a true believer in his friend’s gift. He witnessed it in two cases that were solved a decade earlier.


Officer Phillips' cousin Dan Morris lived in Florida for many years, and he eventually became an investigator with the Florida State Police. Detective Morris came to visit his Grandmother, and he decided to go out that evening for a few beers at a local Bar.


Officer Phillips and Detective Morris started a conversation at the bar as they drank a few beers.


“I’m involved in a missing person case, the disappearance of a University student,” said Dan.


“We located her car near a ravine,” he said.


“Do you think she was abducted?” asked Lou.


“Her car hit a tree, but there is no sign of her,” Dan said, “The girl’s parents want me to call in a Psychic. I think those self-proclaimed psychics are nothing but phony charlatans.”


“Of course, there are people who are very skilled at separating people from their money through deceptive means, and charlatans will not hesitate to claim psychic abilities to accomplish that goal,” Lou said.


“I think they are all phonies,” Dan said.


“I know someone; he doesn’t claim to be a psychic, and he describes his gift as intuition. I had long conversations with him,” Lou said, “He told me that the average person has flashes of intuition, but they do not act on it due to their mistrust or insecurities of what is being communicated to them.”


Lou took a drink of his beer as if searching for words, “it's their internal communications that is communicated to them, but they don’t act on it,” he said once again, “There are also people who have learned over time to trust their instincts which can also be described as intuition. The more we come to learn about our internal communications, what we call flashes of knowing. The more we come to trust it because it is our truth at that particular moment in time.”


“Intuition and so-called Psychic abilities are two different things entirely. I am talking about the New Age mumbo-Jumbo,” Dan said.


“There is nothing new under the Sun, Dan. The so-called New Age movement has been around for a long, long time,” said Lou, “My friend told me that intuition is the spontaneous act of the soul communicating its knowledge to the conscious mind; it can be a feeling, a symbol that pops into our mind when we are enjoying that relaxing moment. It can be a symbol that comes to us in a dream. For some, intuition is knowing something about an event or a person without reason.”


“Sounds like Psychic mumbo-jumbo put into scientific terms. What I see is what I believe,” Dan said.


“There is nothing supernatural about intuition; it is simply natural. We all have intuitive moments in our lives. But we do not develop them to a higher degree,” Lou said, “We place more emphasis on our intellect due to our early childhood education. We learn to memorize things from early on, and our intellectual abilities become dominant in our lives. We need to develop a balance between our intellectual faculties and what we implicitly know to be true in our heart.”


“Next, you will be analyzing my dreams,” Dan said.


“Dreams reveal our inner conflicts,” Lou said, “they give us greater insight into our interpersonal relationships, such as who has our best interest and who to watch out for. Our dreams can also give us insight into the path we are on in life and guide us in making proper decisions.”


“Yes, on a Psychiatric level, interpreting one's dreams is important,” Dan said, “but there is a difference between a Psychiatric interpretation of our dreams and the so-called New Age interpretation.”


“I am talking about a holistic approach to dream interpretation,” Lou said, “as we delve deeper into our spiritual nature through meditation or other spiritual exercises. We come to understand how important our dreams are in communicating knowledge, and our dreams are one way for the subconscious or soul to communicate knowledge to the conscious mind. When we come to a greater understanding of our dreams symbols, we come to a greater understanding of ourselves and others.”


“I can agree with that somewhat, but I still think we should leave the interpreting to the professionals,” Dan said.


“When we come to a greater understanding of how our dreams communicate knowledge. We will be able to understand the dreams of others more clearly,” Lou said, “we will be able to analyze dreams to the point where we can understand how the person thinks and what the person is feeling at that particular moment in time. We will also be able to guide them into gaining a clearer understanding of themselves and the people in their lives.”


“There is nothing wrong with getting to know oneself better,” Dan said, “the danger lies in taking advantage of vulnerable people through deceptive means because they believe in that nonsense.”


“I am not talking about the phonies. I am saying that there are people out there who are genuine,” Lou said, “the more in tune we become to our spiritual nature, the closer we move towards altruism. Our motives in life become less egoistic and more altruistic. For the purpose of helping people develop a greater insight into whatever problems they are facing. I know a person like this, and he goes out of his way to help people.”


“And how does one achieve these incredible gifts?” Dan asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone.


"Meditation will help you discover and gain a deeper understanding of your spiritual awareness,” Lou said, “as you continue to develop spiritually, the lives of those around you become more enhanced. Spiritual development also enhances our understanding that we must first become true to ourselves in order for us to be true to others.”


“What you are saying kind of reminds me of ‘Gandhi,’ but how much of the movie was Hollywood and historically accurate,” Dan asked, “I just think you are reading too many New Age books.”


“Well I think ‘Gandhi’ would agree that the moment we become true to ourselves is the moment we find ourselves on a truly spiritual altruistic path in life,” Lou said, “it is also the moment we no longer seek financial or any other gain from those we help. We will have a deep spiritual awareness that what we give to others comes back to us in greater fold because what we give to humanity, we give to ourselves, and what we change in ourselves, we change in humanity.”


“I can agree with that somewhat,” Dan said.



"Altruism is also at the opposite end of the egoist moral spectrum because those who seek gain from helping others operate from their ego. They are the people we need to avoid on our spiritual path to discovery,” Lou said.


“That is absurd. We have to make a living in life,” Dan said, “we can’t be purely selfless; the economy would come to a screeching halt.”


“I understand where you are coming from, but I was talking about the people who claim to be psychic and try to separate us from our money for a reading. They are the people we need to avoid,” Lou said, “if my friend were here, I think his advice would be to begin your spiritual journey on your own as you develop spiritually you will begin to attract like-minded people into your life. However, you must begin by taking the time during the day or evening to quiet yourself and open yourself up to the essence that makes you truly you.”


“That sounds like sound advice,” Dan said.


“I think my friend can help you,” Lou said as he wrote down and handed him an 800 number to call.


Detective Dan Morris spent the last twenty years with the Florida State Police, and he would describe himself as a realist. He is a skeptic when it comes to people with that self-proclaimed sixth sense. When it comes to investigating a case, he believes good hard police work is the best way to find out what happened.


When reasonable, hard police work came up empty in the case of murder victim Julie Houston, Detective Morris relented and turned to the mystical magic of a Coalville, Pennsylvania man.


Julie Houston was a graduate student at Florida State University. She left the campus, and the police found her car wrecked against a tree on Shadyside Drive, ten miles from the university campus. The car was empty, with a large limb resting on it.


The police looked everywhere for her, and they had no way of knowing whether she was injured, had fallen, or if she'd been picked up by somebody. An extensive search, including helicopters with infrared scanners, boats equipped with sonar, dogs, divers, and more than 300 volunteers, failed to locate her.


Detective Morris was immediately assigned to her case, but he had no real leads. The girl’s father kept in contact with him every day. Julie’s Father and Mother told Detective Morris that they were considering contacting a psychic and asked if he knew one.


"My Cousin told me about a Pennsylvania man who assisted the police in the past,” he told Julie’s parents, “My cousin is a police officer and swears by this person’s abilities. I will telephone him."


When Detective Morris contacted Lamont, he did not waste time with introductions, Lamont was all business. Detective Morris provided him with the basics of the case.


“There is a lady's body,” Lamont said, “In a cave-like setting with rocks above her. She is situated in the fetal position, and a current of water is running across her legs.”


Detective Morris’s, skepticism soared.


"Monroe is a lake; there isn’t a current,” he told Lamont.


Lamont became silent for a moment, “no there is a current of water running across her legs. She is hurt in a fetal position.”


Detective Morris called him again the next day from the Moores Creek picnic area, an area a short distance from the lake. He was unsettled by how Lamont accurately described where he was standing.


Detective Morris was frustrated by Lamont’s insistence on the running water and the woman in the cavern. It was then that Detective Morris received a call from dispatch informing him that his "article" had been located near Salt Creek ramp, an area a quarter-mile from the picnic area.


When Detective Morris arrived there, he found an elderly lady lying in a fetal position in a deep ravine. A small stream of water ran over her legs, and a large outcropping of rock above her head.


It wasn't Julie Houston.



He immediately called Lamont, who was sitting in his apartment in Coalville, Pennsylvania. In mid-sentence, he stopped Detective Morris and said, “Dear God, It is the wrong body.”


Once Lamont regained his composure, he told Detective Morris that he could help him locate Julie’s body. He instructed him to return to where the car had impacted the tree.


Detective Morris called the 800 number from the site, and Lamont began speaking to him as if he was there with him.


"I'm driving down the road, and I don't feel too good," he said. "I am with Jimmy; he hit me,” he started to weep on the phone, “I am so scared, I lost control of the car. I ran my car into a tree, and something has fallen on my head. I'm hurting.”


Detective Morris listened and thought to himself, “is this an act?”


“I'm running now down a hill. Jimmy is mad at me, and he is going to hurt me again,” he cried out on the phone.


Lamont then told Detective Morris to proceed to the lake.


Detective Morris called him back from the lake.


“You are just off a small inlet,” Lamont said to him, “is there a large rock in the lake?”


“There is,” he replied.


“Is there a man standing next to a boat?” Lamont asked.


“There is,” came the reply.


At this point, Detective Morris was somewhat intimidated and could not quite understand how Lamont, with his coal cracker accent sitting in Coalville, PA, the heart of the Pennsylvania coal region, could accurately describe Moore’s creek in Florida.


“Is he really sitting there in Coalville, Pennsylvania?” Detective Morris thought to himself, “If so, it is like he is standing right here next to me. He could see everything I could see."


After a few moments of silence, Lamont, with his voice cracking with panic, said,


"I want to come up, but I can't. Somebody help me. I want to come up, and Jimmy put me here. I can’t get up."


Nearly a month after the day she crashed her car, Julie’s body was discovered floating near the inlet.


“She had been wearing a bulky sweater,” Dan told Lou on the phone, “and it appeared as if it had been snagged on an underground cable or some projectile. We think the sweater eventually worked itself free, allowing her to float to the surface."


“Was my friend’s information helpful,” Lou asked.


“Very helpful,” Dan said, “But I experience an eerie feeling each time I reminisce about that man's conversation.”


“His gift is genuine,” Lou said.


“That man I spoke with on the phone,” Dan said, “has never accepted monetary compensation for his service.”


“He never does,” Lou said, “he talks to many law enforcement agencies on the phone and to average people in need throughout the week. But he never takes money from the people he helps. He told me that the more he helps others, the more they help him refine his gift.”


"I can't explain how he did it," Dan said, "he just knew things he shouldn't have been able to know.”


“Well I wouldn’t have put my cousin in touch with a charlatan for a 20 dollar reading, now would I,” he said with humor in his voice.


The information that was given to Detective Morris also led to the arrest of Julie Houston’s boyfriend, who pleaded guilty to second-degree manslaughter in Julie’s death.


"I still don't have a lot of faith in psychics, and I still believe good, honest work is the best way to solve a crime or find a missing person. But there's no arguing this man had some kind of gift. There's just no other way to explain it,” Dan said to Julie’s parents.


Dan called Lou on the phone after the judge sentenced Julie’s boyfriend to fifteen years in prison for Julie’s death. Dan and Lou’s conversation once again turned to Lamont.


“Perhaps those spiritual gifts are nothing more than what we are evolving to. Perhaps some people are more spiritually developed than others. Maybe those gifts are part of our genetic makeup, but we never took the time to develop them further,” said Lou.


“I believe his gift is real because I experienced it first hand, and I find it a bit unsettling every time I think about it,” Dan said, “But I am glad he is out there using his gift for the service of others. Altruistically as you would put it or as you would describe his gift.”


"We can judge a person's true worth by what they give to others," Lou said, "not by what they charge for their services. My friend has a genuine gift because it is freely given, but at the same time, what he gives to others is returned to him in greater fold. When we give of ourselves abundantly, we gain an abundance in life.”


Lamont Fargo still has his bouts with depression, but since he has been helping others, he has remained out of the hospital. His anonymity is still being protected, and the people he helps have never learned his name or location.


He is still going against his Psychiatrist's advice to remain on his medication. He told his Doctor that the medication dulls his Intuition and that he needs to develop his gift further in order to connect with others.


Without his bouts with darkness, he never would have discovered the light or, as Lamont would describe it, “my gift.”


He now understands that his lifelong struggle with depression has helped him, “I am more sensitive to the small still whispers of the soul.”


The strength he needs to overcome his depression has also helped him understand his ability to help others overcome their difficulties and the overall strength of the human spirit.


“Helping others is my way of refining my gift, and they, in turn, give me a purpose to continue on in life.”

    Always with love from Suzhou, China
    Thomas F O’Neill
    Email: introspective7@hotmail.com
    WeChat: Thomas_F_ONeill
    U.S. Voice mail: (800) 272-6464
    China Mobile 011 (86) 13405757231
    Skype: thomas_f_oneill
    Twitter: https://twitter.com/Thomas_F_ONeill
    Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/thomas-f-o-neill-6226b018/
    Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thomas_f_oneill/
    Facebook: http://facebook.com/thomasf.oneill.3/


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Sifoddlng Along

 


By Marilyn Carnell

Small Town America

When I was growing up in Pineville, Missouri, it was a small market town that was a “walkable” community - something missing from most of our lives today. At that time a car was unnecessary for most people which was fortunate because few could afford to have one. Within walking distance, you could get married, be buried, have a baby, pay your taxes or find any other product or service needed for daily life. If all else failed there were always the catalogs from Sears Roebuck or Montgomery Ward. (There is a Sears house still standing on 2nd Street.)


More than 30 businesses were on or near the town square where the County Courthouse reigned. The town was busy every day but Saturdays were special. It was the day most farmers came to town to shop and catch up on the news. Merchants gave away tickets based on sales volume and a drawing for small cash amounts was held at three o’clock sharp. A large crowd gathered around the merchant in charge that day and he whirled the revolving drum holding the tickets. Usually, a child picked the ticket, and each lucky winner was announced with great fanfare.


There were two “drug stores”. They were called that for simplicity, but only one had a pharmacist who compounded medicines in the back room. That was “Halls” and the other one called “Bonnibelle’s” one of the owner’s names.


My first full-time job was being a soda jerk at Hall’s in the summer of 1955. I was 15 years old and as green as grass. A customer asked me for a product and I said loudly “I don’t think we sell XXX.” My aunt happened to be in the store and she quickly took me aside and whispered that XXX was a feminine product that I later figured out was some kind of birth control.


Fortunately, that is the only negative incident I remember.


It was a heavenly place to work for a teenager. Not only were there lots of people coming and going which I enjoyed, but I had unlimited access to the soda fountain. I always took care of the customers, but I also consumed countless servings of ice cream and sodas. Only the fact that I walked to every destination and also went swimming in Big Sugar Creek for a couple of hours after work kept me from gaining a lot of weight.


In those days sodas were “jerked” by pulling a lever that portioned out flavored syrup held in stainless steel containers. Coke syrup came in large glass bottles and Mrs. Hall made gallons of simple syrup at home and brought them to the store. We also had chocolate, cherry, lime, lemon, and possibly other flavored syrups to custom construct an item. Milkshakes and malts were popular. We always had vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream and some other varieties like black walnut and spumoni - all very high quality


We had regular customers - one man came in every day promptly at 10 am for his daily Bromo seltzer fix. Many years later I discovered that bromine is very addictive.


Another “perk” was access to free comic books. After they expired and were replaced the top half of the cover was torn off. I got my pick of the free stuff. I was only 15 after all.


Although on the surface the two stores were similar - heavy wood back bars and soda equipment, they were very different in an important way. Bonnibelle sold beer quietly at the back of the room. Some children were forbidden to go there for that reason. Pineville has a history of intense feelings about alcohol. The national president of the WCTU was from that unlikely place.


I was allowed to go there when I was in grade school and spent many Saturdays nursing a Coke, an ice cream cone, or a bag of potato chips (5 cents each) at Bonnibelle’s and then walking across the street to see the afternoon double feature (10 cents). The Perils of Pauline terrified me. I was convinced she would be squished by a thundering train. One of my favorite movies was a series called Nyoka the Jungle Girl. I spent hours climbing trees and pretending I could swing through the jungle-like her. Others were cowboy movies featuring Roy and Dale Evans and Hopalong Cassidy.


A lot of fun for less than a quarter.


Today Pineville is a ghostly place that makes me sad to see. The products and services businesses are all gone and most of the buildings are occupied by city and county seat-related offices - law offices round out the rest. No tax base but they do profit from the Use Tax I got passed years ago. You could shoot a cannon down Main Street without the risk of harming anyone. It could have been different but the results of greed and poor city management are plainly evident. Now you must have a car to escape its depressing existence.


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Irish Eyes

 


By Mattie Lennon

THE COBWEB

I haven’t as yet been discovered by Hollywood (or even by Dunlavin!) I was however an amateur actor. In the spring of 1965, I played Trooper Devane in The Cobweb’s Glory with the Lacken Theatre Company. This is a play with six characters, teeming with misunderstandings, conspiracies drama, and side-splitting comedy. The “Cobweb” of the title was a greyhound and could be considered the star of the show. His real name was Sam and racing wasn’t really his thing. He was owned by a family in Ballyknochkan. The Cobweb was owned by Jerimiah Gilhooley and trained by Trooper Devane.


We played to full houses in Lacken, Valleymount, and surrounding parishes. Everybody gave a good account of themselves. Nobody forgot any lines or bumped into the furniture. My character’s line “Do I look like a man that would eat sausages” always got thunderous applause. Trooper has stolen sausages, for the greyhound, from Bessie Costello, the woman of the house. But I believe the audience's hilarity had something to do with a certain reputation that yours truly had which I won’t go into here. Stephen Sweeney, an artist and suitor of young Nora Mary had a line, “A most artistic strangulation.” Every night at rehearsal, without fail, he would deliver it as,” A most artistic strangulisation.” However, by opening night, the producer’s insistence had paid off and the line was uttered with perfection. (The same producer put a lot of effort into trying to convince me to slow down my speech. The message eventually partly sank in. But it took almost fifty years.)


Trooper Devane managed, each night, to threaten the Bailiff Matt Dunne with a dung fork without stabbing anyone. Sam didn’t misbehave on stage. Until . . . one night we put on the play, as a favour to the producer’s friend, for a fundraiser in Greenane in the far-flung backs of Wicklow.


Things went well until, in the middle of act three, Posh and excited Belinda Hanratty breezed in from stage left brandishing a cup with the Cobweb in tow. The dog had won a race that would cure all Jerimiah Gilhooley’s financial ills. Jerimiah wasn’t at the race. He had stayed at home as he was grounded with the gout. Breathless Blinda was giving a full account of the dog’s performance,


“ . . . He passed Zut. He passed Kilnascreena Hero, then . . . then . . .”


The Parish Priest’s cat appeared beside the prompter in the wings. Instinct took over and The Cobweb reverted to type. In the resulting melee, Belinda Hanratty and her old flame Jeremiah Gilhooley were thrown together in a manner not specified in the stage directions.


The play was written in 1946 by three Listowel writers who used the nom-de-plume Bryan Michael O’ Conner. The fact that it has stood the test of time was proven recently by a production under Joe Murphy in Saint John’s Theatre, Listowel;. It’s available on YouTube; "Cobweb" on YouTube


Our “Cobweb” has long since gone to that Boarding Kennel in the sky.


The producer and two of the actors from that production are now on a Celestial stage. And the rest of us are waiting in the wings.


Speaking of Listowel, Frances Kennedy, third from left in pic, who played a blinder as the formidable Bessie Costello has brought out a 15-track CD Close the Half Door.

Here is a link to the Play List Track: Half Door Play List

CD available from; https://frances-kennedy-entertainer.mailchimpsites.com/

* * * * *


A young man from Warsaw married a local girl and they live in the area. He is a very nice fellow and he suffers from Thanatophobia, which as you erudite readers know is a severe and sometimes permanent anxiety about one’s own death. I met him at Punchestown races and he was in a state. “Mattie,” he said, “my wife is planning to poison me.”
“Listen, Jakub, says I, “Your wife comes from a very respectable family. She has a good pedigree. If she was a greyhound pup I’d buy her and there is no way that she would poison you. What makes you think that?“
He explained, “She left the drawer of her dressing table open and I saw a bottle with a label, Polish Remover.”

* * * * *


With the death of Bill Meek, April 15th, we lost a great singer/songwriter, folk-song collector, writer, civil rights activist, and broadcast journalist. Here is a recording of him singing one of his own compositions, Heroic Crubeen.
Heroic Crubeen wav


As part of one of his many projects, Bill sat hour after hour interviewing Paddy Maloney. The result was “Paddy Maloney and the Chieftains.”


It includes more than a hundred photographs showing everything from Paddy Maloney meeting the Pope in 1980 to the Chieftains playing on the Great Wall of China. I’m lucky enough to own a copy of the book which, as far as I know, is now out of print. If you can manage to track down a copy it will be well worth the effort.


He was famous on both sides of the Atlantic and further afield. Of his trip to South America he wrote the following;


“Visiting South America in 1987 will always remain a highlight of my life, both professionally and otherwise. It all began when my brother-in-law John Redmond, then attached to the Irish embassy in Buenos Aires, suggested the idea that as a radio producer/presenter with RTÉ (the Irish national broadcasting station) I might consider making a documentary series on the Argentine community of Irish descent. My response was one of enthusiastic interest, but tempered by caution as it was a time when there were many cutbacks in radio budgets, and projects involving travel abroad were subject to close scrutiny at the highest administrative level. Nonetheless, I went ahead with preparatory planning and duly submitted a proposal. To my delight, indeed almost amazement, the submission was approved. Thereafter on May 25 (a coincidental but nevertheless appropriate date), I found myself - microphone in hand - in the centre of Buenos Aires.”

Bill Meek recording a group of Bolivian street musicians in Recoleta, Buenos Aires.

* * * * *


My own neck of the woods is once again in the news. I would like to share part of an Irish Times article, of April 27t, with you;


“A group of parents of children attending a County Wicklow primary school has expressed anger at the school’s decision to exclude teaching about “same-sex friendships” and contraception from relationships and sexuality education (RSE).


Education Equality, a voluntary parent-led rights group, said that it was “appalled” that Lacken National School in Blessington had told parents in a letter of April 5th last that “teachers do not cover topics such as contraception and same-sex friendships” in the school’s RSE programme. Parents were told in the letter that “children who ask questions in class on content outside the designated curriculum are encouraged to discuss the issues with their parents. “Parents are informed and asked to talk to their child,” the letter continued. . . “


See you in June


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On Trek

 

By Judith Kroll

Higher Self

 

Who is your higher self?


I personally believed it was a different me. Separate from who I am here in the flesh.


People would say they wanted to meet their higher self. I did too. One day I was shown in a dream that we are made in God’s image, speaking of us in the spirit, not flesh form.


Water can take on different forms. Solid (ice), Liquid (water), Gas (vapor).


We as spirits can also take on different forms. Our souls are spirits, pure invisible energy. We can also be Flesh and Blood. Our soul is us. Our higher self is us.


“An eternal, omnipotent, conscious, and intelligent being, who is one’s real self." Blavatsky formally defined the higher self as “Atma the inseparable ray of the Universe and oneself.”


We are more than we are taught to believe we are. Talk to your higher self because that part of us, the soul or some say the spirit of us is with us while we are in the human body. We are never alone.


When I see my shadow, I feel it is my other half letting me know they have my back !!



It makes sense now why we must love ourselves. We are eternal, omnipotent, conscious and intelligent beings. We chose to come in the flesh for lessons we decided we wanted to learn...experience. That is why every person alive cannot be judged, and cannot be put in a box to be like everyone else. We are all connected, yet each soul is unique.
Judith 4/9/22


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Reflections of The Day

 

By Dayvid Clarkson

This morning I was reflecting on a story a Friend sent me.


“One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off to the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us.


My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And he was really friendly; I asked, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital! ‘This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, ‘The Law of the Garbage Truck.’


He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it, and sometimes they’ll dump it on you.


Don’t take it personally. Just smile wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.”


The bottom line is that compassionate people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don’t, and by all means have a blessed, garbage-free day!
Dayvid

* * * * *

·

In our attempt to understand this enigmatic journey we create stories in an attempt to understand this world. Strangely, we tend to believe in our stories as if they were reality and this becomes our mortal experience.


Release the stories and everything you have been taught, you need only comprehend you are on a Spiritual path. Take time before you retire to unburden yourself of all the pre-conceived ideas. Take a moment. This silence, this moment, every moment, is genuinely inside you and brings what you need.


There's nothing to believe. Your life does not require a frantic running from silence. It does not require you to find the answer. Simply live the questions.
Dayvid

* * * * *

·


On a cold crisp night, I look to the stars, even in the dark, you can see the remnants of navy blue. The crystalline stars seem to define Father Sky as Grand Mother Moon has yet to make her entrance. Contemplating time, it seems we never have enough, always governed by the clock.


What if we understood that we are eternal, that we truly have all the time we require? No time during your past was wasted. This journey is like reading a book, once read another book will appear. If we could learn to read and enjoy without the compulsion to skip over parts and read the last chapter to see how it ends. Enjoy each chapter and relish the storyline.


Sleep well, dream deep my Friends.
Dayvid


 

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A Mother's Lessons

 

By Danielle Cote Serar

Boundaries

Some of you may remember me sharing at the beginning of the year that my words for 2022 were Take Back. As a part of that, I’ve been attending a weekly women’s Bible study. As we finish up this semester, we started a four-week series called Guardrails. It’s always fascinating how God weaves things into our lives when we need them.


The concept of boundaries isn’t something new for me. In fact, I’ve counseled people on maintaining healthy relationships with those they love that are toxic in their lives, even if it means loving them from a distance. But it took an interesting set of circumstances to realize that some of my most needed boundaries had been eradicated. And when this series started, it was a wake-up call that I had once again begun to let my boundaries deteriorate.


In my business life I was taught a very valuable lesson. “You can’t give from an empty cup.” meaning simply that if you are not in a healthy right place (be it mentally, physically, financially, etc.) if you are running on fumes, you really don’t have anything to give to others. For myself, I have found boundaries to be this regulator of helping to maintain my own cup, so to speak.


I have found when I move beyond these healthy regulators that I’m drained… be it poor financial choices, binging on the foods I know don’t serve me well, or trying to operate and successfully function in a toxic relationship. When I’m putting into those areas, I’m not only robbing myself, draining myself, but I’m putting myself in a position where I won’t be able to do for others.


I needed this reminder. I was allowing myself back on a slippery slope. And just when I needed the gentle nudge, I got one.


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2061 (Part 3)


By Bud Lemire

As I came to the entrance of Aronson Island, I found it hard to believe that it has been 40 years since I was here. But looking at it, I see the weather has changed it to some degree. Just like it changed the Sand Island over the years before it. I guess time doesn't stand still, even when you are frozen in time. It made me realize how precious the time you have is. So many people wasting their time doing meaningless things, when they should be using it as quality time.


As I rode the bike trail, I could hear the birds singing. I even saw some butterflies pass by. The grass was quite tall, but I am sure I saw a squirrel watching me as I rode along. It made a path in the tall grass, and most likely wanted to get away.


I looked at the Boat Launch, and just as I thought, no boats anywhere in sight. I guess Covid got everyone. Then I heard the yellow warbler, and saw it. I talked to it, and it came down closer to me. “Mr Warbler, looks like there are not many people left here. I know you were probably wondering where they all went.” I didn't understand what he said, but I'm sure he was happy to see someone. Most likely he hasn't seen anyone in a very long time. My heart felt very happy to have seen him and had this visit.


The lilac was in bloom and was smelling very nice. Looks like some more swallows have made a nest nearby. I took the time to smell the Lilacs very close. I wanted to go out to the end before turning back. As I got closer to the end, I could see the tree at the very end looked different. Two of the branches were gone. I am sure weather must have done that. Maybe got hit by lightning, or just old age had weakened its limbs. It looked like someone sitting down there. It could be my imagination, just hoping to see someone can do that. As I got closer, they stayed there, not moving. Looks like a woman, with dark brown hair.


I didn't want to scare her, so I cleared my throat. She turned around and smiled. She got up and came towards me. Then she stopped and looked around. “I've not seen you out here before, and I come out here every day.”


I smiled at the thought that prior to forty years ago, I use to come out here as often as I could. I told her exactly that, and told her I would take many pictures on a nice summer day like this. “By the way, I'm Bud, and what is your name?” She looked to be in her forties, most likely just a child when I was frozen in time.


“Call me Cassie, and I am alone, my parents and my baby brother Timmy passed from that nasty Covid.”


“I know,” I said. She smiled and asked if I knew them. “No, I replied, “I didn't know them, but I knew that Covid took many people. The virus kept mutating because many were against the vaccine, and it kept getting stronger.”


She had a thoughtful expression and then said “It's stupid, people fighting people when they should have been fighting the virus together.” Then she smiled, and I could have sworn she was the most beautiful Butterfly I've ever seen.


I said “yes, people can be stupid and stubborn.”


“You know, Bud, their deaths won over Covid, but now they are not here to enjoy it.” I never thought about it that way, but she's right. I guess without people, everyone is automatically social distancing.


I asked Cassie if she lived around here, and she said she lives down 1st Avenue South. I told her I lived at the Harbor Tower.


She made a frown and said “I didn't think anyone lived there. I was by there a few years ago, and nobody was there.”


I told her forty years ago, many people lived there, and I knew many of them.” I didn't realize how sad I was, and that a tear had fallen.


Then I felt her finger touching my face. “Don't worry Bud, I'll be your friend.” I was lost for words, but when I found them, I thanked her for saying that.


“You can never have too many friends in his world today, because there aren't many people,” Cassie said as she smiled. I laughed, because she was right. How can you have many friends without many people.


“Bud, how come I never seen you here before? Why did you stop coming here if you enjoyed it so much?”


“Well, I guess I better tell you the truth, forty years ago I was frozen in some sort of Medical place, and I recently thawed out. I guess they were preserving me like Jam” I said as I thought about how jam would be preserved.


She smiled and said she loved Strawberry jam. I told her I liked Apricot jam better. She made a face of disgust. Oh well, everyone has their own tastes.


“Cassie, did you see the man in the Hammock in the park?” I asked her.


Oh yes,” She laughed “Mr Whistletree.” I asked if that was his real name. She said it was because when he slept his nose would whistle and the birds in the tree would answer.” I laughed so hard.


“Cassie, I'm getting hungry, so I am going home, to get something to eat. Can we meet here again sometime?” I asked.


She smiled and said “Bud, I am here every afternoon, I'd love to talk with you some more.” She gave me a hug before I left, and I almost didn't want to go after finding a kindred soul here on the Island. As I walked away, I thought maybe we can go exploring the city to see if anyone else survived.

To Be Continued


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ENCORE: Memorial Thoughts

 

By Mary E. Adair

Just before June holds sway
We honor those who've gone away
A special date, Memorial Day,
Not only for those killed in the fray.

We remember family and friends dear
And even men will shed a tear
For who can believe it's another year
Since those dear ones were still here.

We say the prayers and bow our head
In respect for all the Unknown dead
And few can remember what was said
Listening with hearts filled with lead.

Some will reflect on happier scenes
Yet support the loved one who closer leans
And know if we ever had the means
We'd spare them the pain that today gleans.

Yet somehow together we stronger feel
And there's a comfort in the trumpet's peal
And a promise to never forget we seal
Within our heart, as we reverently kneel.

So Ceremony surely has its place
Though tears may mark many a face
We know we still have time to race
With a bit of care and a lot of God's grace.

©May 29, 2006 Mary E. Adair


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