“I bet if I climbed to the top of this old oak, I could see forever,” I said, looking up into the branches. Climbing trees was a rite of passage in the mountains of East Tennessee, where we lived. At 10, I had climbed all the apple trees in the area, but to scale a huge oak—that was a real challenge.
My brother Buddy Earl put his hand on my shoulder. “Brother Doug, you’re not Tarzan.”
Being more of a bookworm, Buddy Earl knew all about Tarzan. He was always