Dreams Not Forgotten: Hope for a Better Tomorrow

By Will Kalinke

Dreams Not Forgotten presents a loving portrait of a man named Bill who has overcome the obstacles that would stop many in their tracks. Author Will Kalinke shares the ups and downs that Bill has encountered in his forty-six years of life. Although his mother passed away when he was just five, he held onto the dreams for his future that she shared with him before she died. Those dreams helped sustain him through many challenging times of intense pain and anguish, when others may have dissolved into anger and frustration. Bill serves as a model of courage, fortitude, and hope for a better tomorrow despite obstacles of today.

An unexpected sequence of events brought Bill and Kalinke together to set the scene for this compelling story, a real-life mystery of survival. Bill stands as an inspiration because he has recognized the differences that make him unique and he has maintained his fortitude, patience, attitude of love, and appreciation for God. He has found the path to a happy and meaningful life that builds upon his positive attitude and clear vision of his own capabilities.

He is one of those special people whose actions help to make miracles happen; follow in his footsteps from unbelievable circumstances to miraculous results.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 7, 2011
• ISBN: 9781426959851

Will Kalinke

Will Kalinke travelled with a number of runaway, homeless youth coast-to-coast in back alleys and dark streets in the eighties. He gave a presentation to the 1989 ACRES/NRSSC National Conference about his experiences on that journey, and much of what he observed has been woven into Victims and Vultures. Kalinke was a teacher for much of his life. He currently lives in Florida.

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© Copyright 2011 Will Kalinke.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Printed in the United States of America.

isbn: 978-1-4269-5983-7 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4269-5984-4 (hc)

isbn: 978-1-4269-5985-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011903374

Trafford rev. 03/01/2011

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North America & international

toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

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Dreams – tragedy – fishing – boating - disabilities – injustices – courage – faith – alcoholism - illegal drugs – thieves - impaired vision – dentures - cerebellum tremors – hernias - boating accident – dog - amputation – spasms - sleep apnea - acid reflux - heart attack – determination – appreciation – tenacious – fortitude – laughter – extreme convulsions - and - miracles. This is the dynamic, compelling, tortuous, unbelievable real journey through life of William E. Whiting, forty-seven 5/19/11.

THIS IS THE SIXTH BOOK TO HELP YOU LEAVE A LEGACY FOR LOVED ONES

SENIORS/GRANDPARENTS/SIGNIFICANT OTHERS: Did you start your journey into writing a legacy for loved ones by reading Memorabilia and Memories Shared? Did you share as I suggested? Did you follow with fantasyland in Mark and the Mystic Marble, history in Stoneboat Journey, murder mystery in Grandma is a Saint, and horror in Victims and Vultures in the order of your preference? Are you ready for something different – the true ‘life’ story of a young man named Bill? This is not a story for the weak of heart, although it is a story of survival against odds that are unimaginable. Born May 19, 1964, his life started as a miracle. One obstacle appeared to follow another in an attempt to get him to quit in his tenacious struggle to continue living. Had I not witnessed events, I would have considered his life impossible. Instead, I was a witness to miracles. As you read his story of Dreams not Forgotten, think of someone you know, who has a story to share. It may be a love story with a twisted ending, such as I tell in a coming book, Loved to Death, or one of struggles, miracles, achievement, tragedy, or other emotional events. Discuss the story with other members of your Heritage Club. Don’t wait another day. Capture these stories in writing or print before critical contributors are no longer with you - or you with them.

SYNOPSIS: Bill holds on to the dreams for his future shared by his mother before she died. Those dreams helped sustain him through many ‘trying’ times of intense pain and anguish, when others may have turned to anger, or given up and died. Bill serves as a model of courage, fortitude, and hope for a better tomorrow despite obstacles of today. Miracles do happen – for Bill is a miracle!

KEY DESCRIPTORS: Cerebellum tremors – blind – accident – dog - amputation – spasms – hernias – dentures – sleep apnea – convulsions – heart attacks - operations - courage – tenacity – fortitude - endurance – frustration – tolerance – appreciation – miracles – hope. Journey with me as Bill encounters and survives obstacle after obstacle, starting with birth, to fulfill dreams of his life, and hope for a better tomorrow, as shared by his mother.

APPRECIATION: Thank you, Bill, for the years we’ve journeyed together – sharing and caring, after we both lost loved ones.

INSPIRATION: Professor Knutson, a special college instructor, provided unusual inspiration to write when I returned to college after military service in Japan 1951-53. Ort Enstad, a long time friend, served as a model to never give up, as he demonstrated in his search for answers for his severely handicapped, only daughter, Tanja. Steadfast Josephine, with her loyal puppy BL, was a model of fortitude from the Sunset Motel.

ANTICIPATION: Strengthen your creativity by reading the introductory pages, closing the covers, anticipating future events, reading another sequence of events, and repeating. This is not a contest; it is purely an exercise to stimulate the powers for creative thinking within you. Keep on stimulating!

SUBSTITUTION: Strengthen your ability to express yourself by drawing on your memory bank of words used to add color to your writing. Select descriptive phrases of mine, and use your words to paint different pictures or mental images. Practice ‘painting’ action, events, places, and people to achieve maximum interest, excitement, appreciation, and other emotions, as I’ve illustrated in the books I’ve shared.

MEMORIES: Thank you Joan Kloss for sharing and caring as you gave Bill’s life continued fulfillment with your unconditional love. Thank you for memories shared over breakfast at the Tomahawk Family Restaurant. Your whispered memories keep my words flowing as never-ending inspirations.

ORDERS: Order books through your local bookstore, independent agent, www.willkalinke.com, or from Trafford Publishing at 888.232.4444 Fax [phone] http://www.trafford.com 1663 Liberty Drive, Bloomington, IN 47403

Contents

INTRODUCTION

ABOUT ME

SCENES

CHARACTERS

Dreams not Forgotten

ONE: A PROMISE MADE

TWO: REFLECTIONS

THREE: STORMY WEATHER

FOUR: BIRTHDAY

FIVE: FISHING

SIX: WATER SKIERS

SEVEN: ONE LAST TIME

EIGHT: BILL’S LAST WORDS

NINE: NO AMPUTATION PLEASE

TEN: HAPPINESS HEALS

ELEVEN: DETERMINATION

TWELVE: ANGELS AT WORK

THIRTEEN: UNEXPECTED TRIPS

FOURTEEN: LET’S TAKE A WALK

FIFTEEN: THE SEARCH TAKES A TWIST

SIXTEEN: AMETEUR MOTEL KEEPERS

SEVENTEEN: PEAKS AND VALLEYS

EIGHTEEN: HANDS UP

NINETEEN: MEDICAL RELIEF

TWENTY: SONNY & DR. PINARO

TWENTY-ONE: NEW DIRECTIONS

TWENTY-TWO: DREAMS TO REALITY

TWENTY-THREE: FOCUS ON THE MOTEL

TWENTY-FOUR: THE MOTEL IS SOLD

TWENTY-FIVE: AFTERMATH

TWENTY-SIX: BILL OF TOMAHAWK

TWENTY-SEVEN: A BRIGHTER TOMMOROW

APPRECIATION

While biographical, the book reads like a mystery. Characters, events, and places follow the lives of real people and places, except as intentionally modified as you will understand the necessity, especially with the boating accident. Editorial exceptions will not affect the content or the message. For the record, I’m not a medical doctor, thus medical terms are general.

Thank you Bill (William Evan Whiting) for your story, your photography, your input with ideas, and your understanding of computer technology.

Thanks to those disabled youth, from poor dysfunctional family situations, who manage to survive in spite of well-intentioned parents, relatives, teachers, and many others in positions of influence or legal responsibility, who make decisions with partial truths or limited facts, who make decisions to totally ignore the existence of youth like Bill, or, whose decisions are purely self-serving.

Finally, thanks, to those who steadfastly search for answers and provide continued assistance to youth, like Bill, in spite of the odds of desired success. Several such unique individuals were quiet in their supportive efforts to Bill in his times of greatest need. After his mother died and his dad turned to alcohol, they sought no recognition or applause. Ruben Radtke, a close neighbor, and several local librarians were such early supportive friends.

INTRODUCTION

Bill, born May 19, 1964, now forty-six, is one of very few severely medically disabled youth from highly dysfunctional families, who survived through a maze of unbelievable medical, social, dental, learning, and occupational obstacles and challenges at every critical ‘fork’ in his path for survival. Most others would have lashed out in anger or given up in defeat. His achievements and persistence provide a beacon and torch to others, as well as a flashing red light of concern. The path he followed for much of his life resembled an endless closed maze, without a beginning or an ending, a journey to nowhere, or to oblivion.

His obstacles started at birth. An agitated or frustrated doctor delivered him with conflicting concern for life or death, following the difficult delivery. Although Bill survived, thanks primarily to an observant and caring nurse, his life started with more obstacles to continued life and happiness than anyone could imagine. A premature baby at less than five pounds, he failed to breathe, cry, or move until the nurse administered oxygen. Since he didn’t accept a nipple, the nurse did his initial feeding by tube.

Further obstacles, placed in his path by many well intentioned, so-called, significant others in his life, by some who were out for personal party-time, and by some, who shunned legal responsibilities, complicated his life. Few of those others were concerned about seeking the full truth, or the real facts, about his physical, emotional, learning, and mental differences or conditions. Each was caught-up in what they saw as their own truths and facts, and their own survival. Many were more concerned with impressing others with their self-proclaimed wisdom of distorted information. If that were not enough, the drunk driver of a power speedboat, out for fun, created more pain and misery, while ‘unintentionally’ doing his best to shorten or end Bill’s life.

Against all odds, Bill is still alive and constantly surprising those who know him best and who care. Many of those, who presented early obstacles, or who did little or nothing to help him, ignore him to this day, as though his presence is a constant reminder to their role in his past, for even negligence and avoidance are roles.

Many people have suggested that truth is stranger than fiction. To that extent, this book is fiction to protect the innocent – if there are any. It may spur readers on to raise questions and seek answers locally should they know of another person like Bill. For, there are many people, who encounter severe obstacles to life and living, through no choice of their own free will. There are few, like Bill, who recognize and find the opportunities to utilize their capabilities and maintain their fortitude, patience, attitude of love, and appreciation for their Creator. There are few, like Bill, with named and un-named friends, who recognized his needs and knew how to open beneficial doors.

There are a few special people, who diligently provide opportunities for miracles, which can and do happen in spite of the odds. There are few people, who are as tenacious as Bill, whose actions help to make miracles happen. Follow his footsteps from unbelievable circumstances to miraculous results. Please be aware that I have used editorial discretion to a limited extent to protect some of the real parties, although some may not deserve the protection. If some readers see their image reflected negatively, I disavow any malicious intent. For justice, I seek the truth. Share in the truth as Bill lived it and I attempted to capture it.

ABOUT ME

Born July 28, l928, on a Wisconsin farm, I lived through the Great Depression of the early thirties and became a teacher in a one-room rural school at the age of nineteen. Among my early role models in a search for social justice were Dora Dessereau, Irene Kronenwetter, Mae Roach, and Ort Enstad. To know them, was to know sainthood quality.

Although I tutored others as far back as I can remember, my first licensed role as a teacher began in 1947, after having graduated from the Langlade County Normal School. I remained in a variety of roles in education, or a related field, from 1947 to late l99l when I bought the Sunset Motel in Lakeland, Florida, which served as the base for much of my early writing of novels. In April of 2004, I returned to Wisconsin to buy Pride Manor on a two-third acre lot near downtown Tomahawk. This is the original home of Ansil M. Pride, who started the Tomahawk paper mills in the late nineteenth century. A. Pride was a friend of William Bradley, considered the founder of Tomahawk.

In April of 2007, I added Pride Manor Guest House and Studio, on the immediate south third-acre lot. Pride Manor has particular significance for the writing of this book, as it holds memorabilia from Bill’s past and mine, and is within walking distance of Bill’s childhood home on McKinley Street near the shores of Lake Mohawksin, and the immediate community known locally as Frenchtown, a cluster of homes on the south side of the tracks. Bill’s current home is within walking distance to the north side of those tracks.

The large century-old house, with many told and untold stories, provides an excellent setting to expand on my writing. Ideas generated at the Sunset Motel, and later at Pride Manor, along with a lifetime interest in real-life characters, adventure and mysteries pursued on streets and alleys coast to coast walking and living with homeless, handicapped, and runaways provided much of the real-life material for my novels with many varied emotions, including that of suspense, fear, sorrow, happiness, and love.

An unexpected sequence of events brought Bill and me together to provide this compelling story, a real-life ‘mystery’ of survival, based on an out-pouring of fact, experiences, interpretation, and observation with a sprinkling of editorial adjustments.

Read on. The parts of Bill’s story that may most seem like fiction may be some of the most unbelievable truth. I find it hard to believe, that he not only survived a heavy burden of medical, dental, educational, occupational, and social injustices, but he became stronger in spite of it all.

SCENES

HOPE for a better TOMORROW

ONE: A PROMISE MADE

TWO: REFLECTIONS

THREE: STORMY WEATHER

FOUR: BIRTHDAY

FIVE: FISHING

SIX: WATER SKIERS

SEVEN: ONE LAST TIME

EIGHT: BILL’S LAST WORDS

NINE: NO AMPUTATION PLEASE

TEN: HAPPINESS HEALS

ELEVEN: DETERMINATIOM

TWELVE: ANGELS AT WORK

THIRTEEN: UNEXPECTED TRIPS

FOURTEEN: LET’S TAKE A WALK

FIFTEEN: THE SEARCH TAKES A TWIST

SIXTEEN: AMETEUR MOTEL KEEPERS

SEVENTEEN: PEAKS and VALLEYS

EIGHTEEN: HANDS UP

NINETEEN: MEDICAL RELIEF

TWENTY: SONNY & DR. PINARO

TWENTY-ONE: NEW DIRECTIONS

TWENTY-TWO: DREAMS TO REALITY

TWENTY-THREE: FOCUS ON THE MOTEL

TWENTY-FOUR: THE MOTEL IS SOLD

TWENTY-FIVE: AFTERMATH

TWENTY-SIX: BILL of TOMAHAWK

TWENTY-SEVEN: A BRIGHTER TOMORROW

CHARACTERS

Primary

Bill

Supporting

Rangle (Bob), Dad

Sonny (timely friend)

Will (that’s me)

Nic (a bright light)

Joan (special friend)

Pat (friend indeed)

Mentioned

Aggie and Bob (tavern keepers)

Librarians (public)

Ruben (neighbor)

Jim and parents

Laundry friends

Grocery shopping friends

Sunday school teacher

Aunt Olga shared her love

Dreams not Forgotten

HOPE for a better TOMORROW

ENDLESS SPACE

WITHOUT IDENTITY

HOMELESS

MEANINGLESS

NOTHINGNESS

VOID

Imagine the task of describing earth or the universe, before they evolved from void without form, before there was any identity, just a swirling endless mass without form. Write a book of three hundred pages about nothing. Do you draw a blank? Where do you start?

Imagine writing a book about a person, without an identity to provide some definition, some form. Biographies are about people; about people, whose lives have defining characteristics. Biographies are about people with recognized unique identities, who have fulfilled a purpose of interest to others. Biographies follow defined paths from start to finish.

Imagine someone on the opposite pole, someone like the ‘man without a country’, someone stripped of all identity at birth.

It happens. It happens far too often. Mass murderers, like Jeffrey Dahmer, aren’t alone in chopping up bodies, stuffing parts in garbage bags for freezing or disposal, filling a dumpster, a pit, and returning the mutilated victims for recycling. My experience suggests, that, those who mutilate the mind and spirit, while leaving the body intact, are equally guilty of murder. Consider the victims of neglect, harassment, bullying, and other non-physical forms of torment, torture, and mutilation. Consider the victims stripped of opportunities, which might have opened doors to fantastic achievements.

A few victims escape their predators to survive. A few find identity in spite of circumstances of birth. A few achieve defining characteristics that provide a recognized unique identity, in spite of obstacles surrounding their birth, and their development, thereafter. One such person is Bill!

Heads turn, when Bill is shopping, whether in his hometown community, or elsewhere. Those who recognize him want to exchange greetings, smiles, nods, and pleasant remarks. They motion for his attention. Those, who don’t recognize him, think they should and find someone to ask, Who is he? Who is that man? I should know him! I can’t place his name.

The reply generally is, "That’s Bill."

It’s assumed that everyone knows, or should know, Bill. He is that kind of person. There is no need for further definition. No, he isn’t remarkable or famous as an artist, scientist, politician, financier, or explorer.

The Bill that I know today reminds me of his dad, Bob, whose actual given name was Rangle. When I was with Rangle, or Bob, we could never stop at a restaurant for a quick cup of coffee. Hah! There was no such thing as stopping ‘quickly’ anywhere when I was with Bob, as Bob would always know someone, or someone would know him. A quick ‘hi’ wouldn’t suffice, or seem proper for Bob, or for those who knew him, or thought they did. No, Bob wasn’t a famous artist, scientist, politician, financier, or explorer either. No, he was special in his own way. He had a magnetic personality. That was Bob! This is Bill!

Even though Bill may not have known anyone previously, as we traveled together, people may have recognized him, or pretended they knew him. Any excuse, would prompt a conversation. Excuse me, don’t I know you?

I don’t think so unless it’s through a computer game. I was born in Tomahawk, Wisconsin. I’ve lived there and in Lakeland, Florida, most of my life. Are you from either area?

No, I’m just traveling through. You looked as though I should know you. I didn’t want to be rude by ignoring you. That was a simple ‘opener’ used a thousand times by a thousand people.

That’s Bill; the one I know!

He likes to engage others in conversation, and others enjoy chatting with him. That was Bob, his dad, and that is Bill. That is how we first met – read on!

It doesn’t take long for Bill to start a conversation. A stranger doesn’t remain a stranger for long – not around Bill. They soon become friends. They would always have something of interest in common, as Bill has a breadth and depth of knowledge about much of plant and animal life that few others possess. He has an encyclopedic-type of memory. He knows people and topics around the world by means of the computer, accessing friends and tapping their knowledge.

Each noun, verb, adverb, or adjective triggers a cross-reference to another related noun, verb, adverb, or adjective, as if in an intricate comprehensive computerized data network – his brain!

After more than forty-six years of Bill’s survival, I finally feel comfortable in sharing my knowledge of Bill’s life with you. I now believe he will survive for many, many, many more years. There were many times in the past when I feared that he wouldn’t survive through the night, or to the next hour. He always surprised me. I should have known better. I’ve long turned the corner on eighty-two years, and Bill long passed age forty-six. Yes, we are both survivors, but of a different kind. We have shared life as surrogate father and son for over twenty-four years starting at the time when he moved in with me in preparation for needed surgery. Bill’s mom has been dead for over forty-one years, ever since Bill was only five. Bill’s dad grieved uncontrollably and turned to alcohol to escape his misery. Therefore, Bill was without parental guidance, counseling, or assistance. Yes, I know. That sounds contradictory - impossible! Read on!

Life for Bill’s dad was difficult enough before his lovely spouse, Marion, died. Marion meant everything to Bob, as he often shared with me. They were inseparable. After she died, life was nearly impossible for him. No one word could describe his miserable condition, not even a dozen words. His loneliness, emptiness, was without description. He turned to more and more alcohol to drown his sorrow. He turned to playing endless hands of solitaire. I’d often join him after he quietly extended another deck of worn cards. He would just stare endlessly toward the lake outside of his study window. It was as though, Bob expected lovely Marion, his now deceased wife, to suddenly appear walking barefoot across the lake, smiling with long brunette hair blowing in the breeze, beckoning him with outstretched hands.

Or, she might suddenly rise into view from plucking a rose, as Bob sat by his favorite oak library table for two, where he drank coffee smothered in sugar and cream and played solitaire with a worn deck of cards, while he looked out the window of his study covered with vertical grooved knotty-pine boards. Marion had a small flower garden near the towering pine trees to the south and west of their house, between the small front entry of the house and the grassy lakeshore. She knew how Bob liked gardenias, roses, lilacs, or lilies in her hair. His bear hug, kiss, and contagious smile were ample rewards for her time spent weeding and caring for the perennial plants in her garden.

Bob continuously grieved for the loss of his beloved Marion. I knew how difficult it was for him when I saw him sitting at the small library table with the strong fingers of his right hand wrapped tightly around that cold mug of coffee, with a blank gaze, followed by teardrops, slowly trickling down his weathered cheeks. Occasionally, his left hand would rise and swipe at the tears, before they hit the table, or the coffee. I could feel his pain with the loss of my dear Connie, my best adult friend and spouse. However, Connie died a natural death. Marion died from the administration of the wrong blood type, after having experienced medically induced drug addition, with severe tremors witnessed by Bob. I wonder whether there is a relationship to the severity of Bill’s cerebellum tremors, and whether doctors used drugs in an attempt to control Marion’s tremors.

Unlike grieving endlessly, like his dad, I have watched Bill overcome, or control, one obstacle after another, in his path for survival and happiness. Bill is a determined survivor - an unusual survivor. He is the recipient of miracles, many miracles. He, himself, is a true miracle. I wouldn’t have believed the many miracles had I not witnessed them with my own eyes. I was there in the hospital room just weeks ago, to see him survive when his body went into traumatic convulsions, due to the injection of a nerve block, prior to a scheduled shoulder operation, which accidently entered a nicked blood vessel.

He has proven his ability to know when, how, and where to seek assistance as he meets new personal challenges. He is sensitive to the needs of his body. He has learned to control his nutritional intake and medication, for maximum benefits to his system, without upsetting the delicate nutritional balance. With the help of medication and a change in diet, he has brought his bad cholesterol down from the dangerous ‘heart-attack’ zone to a safe zone.

A medical diagnosis, by recognized heart specialists, of dangerously weak heart muscles, changed within eighteen months by the same specialists (as I listened) to a medical diagnosis of strong, even powerful, heart muscles, which saved him from tragic consequences, possible death, from the nerve block.

I watched, as his once frail body suddenly developed healthy growth spurts, well past the spurts experienced by normal youth in their early through upper teens.

As I look back over the years, since I first met Bill and his dad, all of the social, learning, occupational, dental, and medical problems, which kept Bill from feeling the fullness of life in his younger years, are medically or emotionally, under temporary intermittent control.

At forty-six, he is five-feet and eleven inches tall at about one hundred fifty-seven pounds. The casual acquaintance wouldn’t be aware of the many disabilities he carries with him daily – twenty-four seven. Only an experienced medic or a close acquaintance might be aware of the blind eye, the damaged nose, the repaired legs, the cerebellum tremors, the leg spasms, the dentures, and more. Although he avoids tasks, which carry unrealistic expectations or deadlines imposed by others, he is self-disciplined and a scholar of considerable depth and breadth, as might otherwise be expected of a college graduate with several strong majors, especially in the sciences.

His mother, who died when Bill was only five, left him with dreams, hopes, and promises for his future. His life has followed an unusual, somewhat mysterious path, in a search for answers to his many social, learning, occupational, dental, and medical problems. Throughout the many inconsistencies surrounding his life, Bill has remained steadfast in his hope and belief for a better tomorrow.

He is a tenacious living symbol of hope for happiness, with unusual determination and fortitude, for others. That’s the Bill I knew and continue to know.

ONE:

A PROMISE MADE

All, who knew Bill, knew him only partially, each from their limited perspectives. Few knew him as I did. That includes family, friends, professionals, and neighbors. Even I admit to only partial knowledge of Bill, however great or complete, compared to that of my knowledge of many other people. However, then, does anyone ever truly know another person, especially one so multifaceted like Bill. He’s like a pearl emerging from irritating grit, or a buffed polished diamond, formed under immense pressure, getting ever brighter. The brilliance of pearl and diamond is unending, as the buffing or aging process continues.

The Bill I knew, and still know, had a colorful story with many facets like a cut diamond, each cut shedding its own unique ray of character, of personality, of being. His story moves in bits and pieces, backward and forward as a train adding cargo, up one track, down another, reversing to another spur to add or drop cargo. Suddenly, a spurt repeats, followed by hesitation or reversal a number of times, as though seeking the right path, until zooming down the tracks to its apparent final destination, only to … .

Join me as I take you on some of those rough ‘spurts’ in his life – backward and forward, this way, and that way – searching for direction throughout a mysterious endless maze, seemingly without a beginning or ending, opening or closure. The story I pieced together, or extrapolated, went something like the following:

‘Tweet - tweet. Rib it - rib it. Tip it - tip it. Burp – burp. Cheep - cheep.’

Bill, fifteen at the time, lay on his back with his eyes closed, as he listened to the little creatures of the woods. He was lying up on a weathered outcropping of large, grey, slightly moss-covered, rocks, in a clearing surrounded by a mix of white pine, oak, sugar maple, white birch, quaking aspen, sturdy basswood, smaller ash, stately elm, powerful spruce, balsam fir, fine-needled hemlock, and other trees and shrubs of the forest near his home.

"Hello, my little friends. Sing more of your