Moments Within My Journey: Stories To Be Shared

By Ed Hearn

Moments Within My Journey…Stories To Be Shared, this fifth book in a five-part series, was one I didn’t originally intend to write.  It sort of happened as an after-thought once I’d finished the first four.  

 

On the first day of March in 2019, I sat down at my computer and once again began

• Language: English
• Publisher: Legacy IV Books
• Release date: Sep 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781734036992

Book preview

Preface

I never thought it would be possible for me to complete four books about events from my life, much less a fifth book. This whole writing experience has spanned over nineteen years from start to finish. During that time, there have been many start and stop periods when I had to patiently wait for either renewed inspiration or gain more knowledge about how to operate my computer. My original lack of knowledge about its operation frustrated me greatly and hindered my progress.

My first stories were written in email format, and then forwarded to family members upon completion. Email was the only way I knew to be able to type out what I wanted to say and then send it to others. Responses I got back from those first short stories were always positive with words of encouragement.

Ed, that last story was really good. You need to keep writing. Maybe someday you’ll have enough of them to publish a book.

My problem was that every time I needed to revise a story or just make simple corrections, I had to retype the entire thing. I didn’t know how to go back and make changes to the original. That frustration led to long gaps of time where I just didn’t write.

One day while discussing it with my oldest son, John, he asked me, Dad, don’t you know anything about using Word on your computer?

I said, Son, I don’t know anything about it. My stories are currently stored on the computer’s hard drive in emails. I can’t make revisions. Can you help?

Send me all of your stories, and I’ll convert each one to a Word document. Then, I’ll forward them back to you. Once you receive them in that format, it’ll be easy for you to go into each one and make corrections without retyping the whole thing.

When my stories were received back from him in Word, I became excited about what could be done. It wasn’t long before new stories were being written.

After completing each one, I always printed out a copy on my laser printer and put it in a pile by my desk. Slowly, that pile began to increase in size.

Looking over one morning, the thought hit me that maybe I really could produce a book. There might be enough individual stories to make it happen.

Shortly thereafter, I became completely engrossed in track and field athletic competitions around the country and the world. It consumed me for 10 years with regular workouts and lots of travel. A negative part was it distracted me from my writing. During that period, the desire remained to continue work on my stories so they could eventually be published, and that time finally arrived.

Three years ago, I was invited to join a small, local writer’s group in the Landfall community of Wilmington. That changed everything. The members met twice each month and were allowed to read one of their writings at each meeting for critiques. I developed a strong desire to create a new story for each meeting. With that increased production, my stack of stories began to grow at an even greater speed.

Through my good friend and successful author Tom Morris, I was introduced to two very talented individuals he said could help me put together the components for my book. Sara Morris helped me with cover design, and Abigail Chiaramonte handled the formatting and co-ordination with the book publisher. In addition, Trent Armbruster helped me with extensive editing and proofreading. All of those people were extremely valuable in making the whole project come together.

Soon, four books were published, and I was proud of the end results. What you are about to read is the fifth book in the My Journey series titled Moments Within My Journey.

Writing those additional stories has definitely been fun for me. My hopes are you will enjoy reading them, and that most will cause you to recall good memories of similar occurrences in your own life.

Contents

Preface

The Great Outdoors

Take Your Foot off the Gas

Sloppy Joes

Bell Witch

A Moment in Time

Railroading of the Past

Serious Competition for a Kid

A Favorite Pastime

Movie Night at TPS

A Day of Fun and Adventure

Nothing Stays the Same

Freedom

A Narrow Escape

Gold and Purple

Three Outstanding Athletes

Showdown at the OK Corral

Lash LaRue

Buyer Beware

Making Sense of It All

Stay Still and Don’t Move

Free as a Bird

Some Of My Sister’s Favorite Memories

Weekend Excitement

A Special Moment

Turkeys Away

Cayman Treasure

Stay with the Crowd

Who is That Behind Those Masks?

The Old Rag Picker

Moving on in Life

The Worst Day of My Life

Introvert or Extrovert?

Staying Active

Ten o’Clock, Two o’Clock

An Angel in the Jungle

The Little White Ball

Learning Something New

Life’s Box of Chocolates

Unlikely Encounter

The Day the World Changed

Learning One Day at a Time

Getting Old is No Fun

A Land of Wonder

Fossils From Long Ago

Underwater Beauty

Lost in a World of Complete Relaxation

Gyotaku

Uncertainty on the Waterway

Noodling for the Big Ones

Thinking Big

Free Spirits

You’re Not Done Yet

Let’s Do It Again!

Camp Landfall

Making the Most Out of Each Moment

Learning to Ride It Through

Sharing My Life

About the Author

The Great Outdoors

A soft chirping sound coming from a small bird, calling for its mate, creates a continuous melody as the morning sun rises slowly in the east. Its song is a familiar one and gives me a calm feeling, bringing to mind special memories from long ago.

As a child of nearly eight, a walk outdoors was always one of wonder, especially in the early summer. Wandering around our small yard, I didn’t have to go far to find spider webs dangling between tree limbs with dew droplets still clinging to each strand. If I looked at them from just the right angle, sunlight would highlight the magnificence of their construction. Every web was a perfect symmetry of design, as if the spider had a grand plan before it began to build.

Nearby, a cluster of tiny white flowers on green stems was noticed as the small blossoms were starting to open, peeping out from the lower edge of a large granite rock covered with fuzzy green moss. On my knees and looking closer, I could see the more intricate details of their elongated leaves. Touching them with two fingers gave me the feeling of handling soft velvet. As I bent down farther, their sweet smell drifted upwards.

Honeybees were already buzzing over thick clover grass just behind me. Turning around, I could see them moving from one flower to the next, stopping only briefly in their hunt for nectar, but at the same time picking up pollen on their hairy legs. Without knowing, they were passing around from plant to plant the necessary ingredients to cause those flowering plants to be pollinated.

There was a small mound containing brown ants, hundreds of them already active before the heat of the day. Each was carrying a tiny grain of dirt from underground, soon to be piled to the side on the surface. Then, they would quickly disappear into the entrance of their home. One followed the other in a repetitive movement, guided by a unique intelligence beyond my understanding.

Entering our garden located on a side lot, I walked between rows of vegetables just beginning to form on their stalks and vines. My dad had planted tomatoes, cantaloupe, squash, watermelon, beans, okra, onions, lettuce and corn. As the various plants were examined, a hairy caterpillar worked his way up one of the leaves. He’d already made a few holes here and there. His short legs moved forward slowly, and I knew a dramatic change would soon be made allowing him to become a beautiful butterfly. He would then be seen flittering all over the garden, just like the honeybees were now moving over the clover.

Mom had planted a circle of canna flowers surrounded by old bricks turned on their sides. Their stems and leaves were a dark reddish-purple; the flowers a bright red. Sometimes in the afternoon, she would pick a few to put in a vase for our dinner table. Just inside the bricks, she had planted clusters of yellow marigolds. They were beautiful, but their smell definitely wasn’t pleasant.

Near the very back of our property, there was a long line of large hackberry trees. Each of their trunks was rough and gray in color. Thousands of tiny leaves, all a bright shade of green, filled their many limbs. Those leaves provided welcome shade from the hot sun, and cast a deep shadow over a long, barb-wire fence, which stretched the width of our backyard between numerous round posts.

Sometimes after exploring, I’d go over and climb that fence and sit on the one section which had a cross-board at the top. Next to that spot was a single car garage Dad had built separate from our house. It created a quiet corner, away from everything. On lazy mornings, I’d just stare out into space and think. My mind would drift, as I thought about how wonderful it was to be outside.

Shifting back to the present, I can still hear that same bird singing. It was the reason for me briefly going back in time. Its song had reminded me of the many days during my youth when simple things around me seemed so fascinating; when nature was a big mystery with new discoveries to be made each day.

I’d like to pass on that same curiosity to others. There’s so much to see and enjoy in the great outdoors. All you have to do is go outside and start looking around. You never know what you’ll find.

Take Your Foot off the Gas

Jumping into the small leather seat, I felt my excitement building, as my legs stretched downward toward two metal pedals my feet couldn’t fully reach. Only by sliding my butt down to an almost lying-down position could I touch them. I placed my hands on a circular steering wheel not too far from my face.

A man walked by quickly and said, One of those is the gas and the other is the brake, pointing toward my feet. Have fun.

As he continued to the next kid directly in front of me, I heard him say, When I wave the red flag, everyone push the gas pedal and get started. When I wave the checkered flag, I want you to move into the pit area as quickly as possible.

This was all occurring because that Saturday morning my family had passed our school parking lot and saw an oval racetrack had been set up. Black, rubber tires had been placed on their sides in a long row around the outer edges of the two main curves indicating the layout of the track. Six gas go-carts, painted in bright colors, were waiting for their next riders. There was a temporary sign, which had been placed at the street, stating each ride would cost a dollar.

My mom and dad had all three boys and my sister in our family car.

When my older brother saw the sign and the race cars, he asked my dad, Could we please stop so I can ride in one of those go-carts? I’ll be careful. It’ll only cost a dollar.

Dad looked at Mom and asked, What do you think?

With a slow nod of her head, she said, Just one ride. I want you to be very careful. Maybe Eddie is big enough to do it also. We’ll check.

After parking and getting out, we all approached a table where a woman was taking money.

She said, How many?

I think I only have two children large enough to ride the cars safely. What do you think?

That’s probably right. Your second child is questionable, but I’ll let him ride if he’ll be careful. That will be two dollars.

My dad paid the money, and before I knew it, my brother and I were each seated in separate cars. Shortly afterward, four other children climbed into the remaining ones.

Gentlemen, start your engines. Leave this area slowly before you pick up speed.

Pushing down with my right foot, I took a guess at which pedal was the gas. I guessed correctly. My car moved forward and began to pick up speed. Rounding the first turn, everything seemed to be going OK. Down the back straightaway I pushed harder on the pedal, and my car passed two of the others. Rounding the next turn, I bumped the tires lying on their sides which helped me get past that part of the track.

Then, I zoomed down another long straightaway, passing in front of my family. By the time the third half-circle turn was reached, I knew I was in trouble and going too fast. I jerked the steering wheel quickly to the right to avoid crashing into the tires, and before I knew it, my race car was tilted on its side and riding on only its two inner wheels. Somehow, I missed the tires but was completely out of control.

Off in the distance, I could hear my mom screaming. Slow down. Slow down. You’re going to kill yourself.

Once through the turn, my car plopped back down on all four wheels. I was so scared I never thought about taking my foot off the gas or pushing on the brake. Down the back stretch I flew. Luckily, I started turning the steering wheel early and made it through the next turn on all four wheels.

As I passed the man in charge, he ran after me and hollered, Take your foot off the gas and push the brake. It’s the other pedal.

That finally registered in my mind. When I let off the gas pedal, the car began to slow automatically. I didn’t even have to push the brake much.

I could still hear my mom yelling. Get my child off the track. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, she screamed.

I noticed the checkered flag being waved. The man was motioning for everyone to pull into an area off to the side. My dad stood next to him with an anxious look of concern on his face. Close to him, my mom’s face was white. I turned into the area and the man grabbed my car, forcing it to a complete stop by leaning down and pushing the brake with his hand.

Out I jumped and nervously walked over to my parents. They both gave me a big hug and told me they shouldn’t have let me ride, that I was too small.

After getting out of his car, my older brother came over and said, You dummy. You almost killed yourself. Why were you going so fast?

The pedals confused me, and I could barely reach them. When the car got up on its side, I didn’t know what to do. I was so nervous I couldn’t think straight. I’m just glad I finally got the thing stopped.

Mom turned and said to Dad, Let’s go home. We’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’ve got to lie down and rest. My nerves are shot.

We all went home where it was quiet for a few hours. I got to thinking about how lucky I’d been that the race car hadn’t flipped over on that third curve. It could’ve killed me. I knew in the years to come, after I’d grown a little more, I’d again jump into a go-cart seat for another wild ride. It was the type of excitement that got my adrenalin flowing.

For the time being, I was just happy to have made it out alive.

Sloppy Joes

Saturday night was usually a fun time for our family in 1958. Dad would be off from work and have some extra time to spend with his kids. If he hadn’t planned a weekend fishing trip for us, he would want to take his boys out for something special.

One of those nights, he asked, Do you guys want to get an ice cream cone?

You bet, I replied, speaking quickly for my two brothers and me. I knew my little sister was still too young at the time to be included. She had already gone to bed and would have preferred to stay with our mom anyway.

OK. Jump in the car, and we’ll ride over to the Dairy Queen.

Without hesitation, all three of us got in our car with Dad and were ready to go. When we got there, it was normal that he would not only buy us the promised ice cream but would get us each a small hamburger and fries.

My mouth would begin to water as soon as I saw the lighted, red and white sign in the distance. It stood out from all the others which were mounted on much lower poles.

On this particular night, shortly after we arrived, the smell of food cooking was strong in the air. We got out and walked toward the glass door to look inside. The store was full of other kids with their parents. It was packed.

Dad said, Why don’t you all play in their playground, and I’ll go inside and place our order. What would each of you want?

I said, Tonight I’d really like one of those tasty Sloppy Joes, instead of a hamburger, and also some fries. Later we can get the ice cream cones.

Once I brought up the idea, everyone else agreed that would make a good choice.

Dad disappeared inside while we moved to a lighted playground at the side of the building. That large area was covered with gray gravel and contained three different plastic animals and two cartoon characters, each mounted on large, metal springs anchored in the ground with concrete. They were fun