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This Thanksgiving Have a Treat You’ve Never Had!

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My grandfather remarried almost a year after his wife passed. Orthello Fout, my mother’s mother was my favorite grandmother. Maybe that is why I was biased against Gladys my new step-grandmother. Maybe because she divided my family. Maybe because I never knew a hypochondriac until then. But I will disparage her no more. She is long gone. But if there was one good thing she left in this life it is this: a Thanksgiving tradition that continues this day in my own family.

I love Thanksgiving. It is my favorite holiday, for many reasons: it’s about God, and gratitude and family. I often think it is the fulfillment of a commandment: remember the sabbath and keep it holy. You DO realize that commandment is about US and not Him. Our assembling before our Heavenly Father is about maintaining family. It was in the days of Moses. It is now. In a way it is reflected by another commandment: honor thy father and mother. We honor our Heavenly Father and it makes it easier to honor our earthly father and mother, then we pass this down to our children. The American tradition known as the Thanksgiving Holiday is the fulfillment of this. It is as much about us and our family as Him.

It is one of our national holidays still uncorrupted by commercialism. It is opportunity for reflection and family. And when you have six children who each have spouses and twenty three grandchildren and five great-grandchikdren, it can be a big event. Couple that with the fact that not only have I been bread-winner in my family but chief cook and bottle-washer.

Thus, for forty-three years I have been largely responsible for Thanksgiving dinner. Daughter-in-law Brandy is taking over that role. I am good. I do great gravy, better turkey and from real pumpkins eleven scratch pumpkin pies. But possibly the best thing I do on Thanksgiving is something I learned from Gladys: Incredible Roast Duck.

imageWhat follows is a non-typical recipe for roast duck. I searched the web for years to find something similar. I found nothing. So I offered one to the manufactures of Sno-floss Sauerkraut. They thanked me and may have published it last year. I offer it here. If you make this you will not be disappointed it is a real delight.

Incredible Thanksgiving Stuffed Duck

Ingredients

1 Duckling (thawed if frozen)
2-3 cups sauerkraut
1 cup sour red wine
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 – 1/2 cup sifted flour for gravy
Water as needed

Instructions

Set frozen duck in refrigerator overnight to thaw, or leave fresh duckling in refrigerator over-night.

Meantime, open 2-cans or one large bag of sauerkraut. These must be drained. But try to catch and reserve in a cup or jar, some of the liquid. Preserve this for the next day. Squeeze as much liquid as possible out of the kraut. Place the kraut in a deep bowl and fluff. Pour in up to a glass full of a dark red sour wine. Use whatever brand or type you may like. Or you can do what I do, since as a Christian I do not drink: show up at your local mart and buy something small and cheap. Locally, my local Rite-Aid Pharmacy sells cheap wine in a sealed bottle equalling a single glass full for $1.00. (This is for flavor not for drinking, cheap is fine). Cover the bowl and let the kraut marinate overnight.

Thaw duck and rinse thoroughly. Rub with salt inside and out as you would a turkey. You will need to place the duck breast up on a wire rack that will allow drippings to fall into the pan where they will not touch the duck. Duck generates a lot of fat while roasting. It is this natural oil and fat that makes a duck ‘waterproof’ living on the water all year.

imageDrain the bulk of the wine out of the kraut but do not squeeze. Reserve some of this liquid (like you did the kraut juice) for later. Put the thawed duck on the rack in the roaster, breast up and open the cavity (where the giblets were) and stuff full with the kraut. As you pack it tight, some of the wine/juice will leach into the bottom of the roaster where the fat will go. That is fine. Use tail, legs and twine if preferred to close cavity or just leave it open. Lightly dust the top of the duck with salt and pepper.

Set oven to 350. Cover roaster with a lid (or with aluminum foil) and place into the oven for at least an hour. Ducks, like turkey are roasted by weight. The bigger they are the longer they roast. After the first hour, check. If using a lid, replace. If using foil, loosen and recover but leave loose at edges.

By this time the smell will be making everyone in the house hungry. Even those who won’t touch wine, or say they hate kraut will ask, “What smells so good?” Use a meat thermometer or, for us old-school cooks, keep checking for doneness. As that time approaches, remove the lid or foil so that the top of the bird can brown. It is fine if some of the exposed kraut darkens or even crisps. Continue to brown duck and check for doneness.

Lift the rack out of the roaster and place on a serving plate. The oil and wine in the bottom of the pan will contain too much fat to use for gravy. So most of this will be poured out and discarded.

imageRemember fat floats to the top so watch as you pour. Leave at least a cup of liquid (fat-wine drippings) to make gravy. Pour this into a gravy pan and put on a burner on your range. Add enough flour to this fatty dripping and stir to brown flour. To this you will add one cup of cold water, a quarter cup of the reserved kraut juice and a quarter cup of the kraut-wine marinade. Stir as it begins to warm. Add water if it becomes too thick. Stir in more water if necessary to thin to a good gravy (do not use milk in this gravy). This becomes a yummy sauce for mashed potatoes or the duck meat as you prefer. Discard remaining kraut juice and marinade.

imageLet me tell you how good this is. You will have leftover turkey (sometimes for days). You will have leftover green beans and yams. You’ll even have left over pie. But. You won’t have leftover duck or sauerkraut, or duck gravy. You better eat what you want at this first sitting. There won’t be any left for later.

This is why, if you make this for Thanksgiving, you WILL make it again at Christmas (and maybe without the turkey this time).

imageBefore I close, many people have asked me about my pumpkin pies. They seem to taste better than everyone else’s following the pretty much standard recipe (i.e. The back of a Libby’s Can). And while I peel and cut down whole pumpkins rather than using canned pumpkin: that is not the difference in taste.

imageHere is my, heretofore secret ingredient: every pie has at least two tablespoons of black strap molasses and one teaspoon of maple syrup mixed into it. Mmmmm! (Not my original idea. Got this out of an 1820 cook book).

May your Thanksgiving Holiday be as blessed as mine. God bless America.

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Warlock: Savior of the Marvel Cinematic Universe

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imageThe Marvel Cinematic Universe can’t survive the onslaught of Thanos without Him.

imageWho’s Him. ‘Him’ was the created cosmic being of the Beehive. Known at first as simply “Him” this orange-colored cosmic being took on all of Marvel’s greatest heroes: the Fantastic Four, Thor and the forces of Asgard, the Hulk, Silver Surfer and Captain Mar-vel.

imageHe is known now in the Marvel Universe as Warlock.

He is a necessary part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and has indeed already been in it. You didn’t recognize him because we only saw him in his cocoon in the hands of the collector.

imageHis ‘birth’ is eminent. As is he’s death. A necessary sacrifice to save the universe from himself. And along the way he will also save the universe from Thanos.

imageHe is the only one in the Marvel Universe capable of killing him with the use of a cosmic gem embedded in his forehead: the soul gem, the last of the infinity stones yet to be revealed in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

imageIn the comics, Him was discovered by the Fantastic Four. That part is out, since the FF are not part of the MCU movie universe. He took on Asgard before re-cocooning again and upon his rebirth was given the soul gem by the High Evolutionary, who might be identified as his ‘father’ who in the MCU might also be Rocket Racoon’s father. In the comics Warlock befriends Pip and Gamora and would eventually be part of the Guardians of the Galaxy.

imageBut not before going into the future to kill his future self.

imageWarlock had to steal his own soul to keep him from becoming the Magus, who would corrupt the universe with his own cultic evil church. Far enough in the future to stop Magus but not before he steals the soul of Thanos.

imageThe comic self-homicide happened in 1976 in issue #11 of Warlock. A year later, this event was ‘recalled’ as a past Warlock steps into the present and kills a present Warlock shortly before he kills Thanos in a big cosmic space battle with the Avengers, Captain Marvel, the FF, Spider-Man and others.

imageSpider-Man releases Warlock from the soul-gem long enough for him to pull Thanos’ soul in with him ending his life.

imageThis awesome event took place at the end of 1977 in two cross-over annuals: Marvel Two-in-One Annual #2 and Avengers Annual #7. You can bet this is the big battle being planned for the next two Avengers movies: Infinity Wars part 1 & 2. Note: Captain Marvel will be introduced between them.

So I am going out on a limb here with a few awesome predictions: Him will be born as part of the Guardian’s of the Galaxy #2 movie. Note: the publicity about this movie says it is a movie about “relationships with our fathers”. Wink, wink. Quill-J’son. Gamora-Thanos, Rocket-High Evolutionary, Him-Beehive/Warlock-High Evolutionary. It works for me.

imageThen, since Thor: Ragnorak is billed as a “cosmic road story” we will re-encounter Warlock (and maybe Beta-Ray-Bill, Gamora, Pip the Troll) and a brawl with Thor then Hulk and perhaps an encounter with the Magus forcing Warlock to go into his future to kill his future self. Thus setting up this event to happen in Infinity War #2. Awesome. This works for me too.

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Another Man’s Treasure

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In early 1992 I had a unique talk with my five teen and pre-teen children. I went to work for a new employer who incidentally sold blank will kits. I brought one home. “I want your computer,” my youngest son said and this was disputed almost as quickly by his older brother. “I want the VHS movie collection,” a daughter argued, her siblings had something to say about that too.

Today I don’t think they would any of that. I mean VHS tapes have little value, even less value for a 1988 IBM 8088 20 meg desktop computer. Guess “stuff” is valuable only in its relativity.

That is why the Gary and Joyce Stuber treasure box might be filled with stuff that appears to have very little monetary value, but it’s intrinsic and sentimental value could be somewhere close to priceless.

As a child I read in Sunday School about how King Hezekiah of Judah in a moment of braggart showed all his treasure to the King of Babylon and that was his undoing. Isaiah said now the king would desire it and steal it. Which he would and did. (Some, like myself think that is why Isaiah hid the Ark of the Covenant, possibly below the Temple Mount where is still rests quietly). But since there is little chance you will covet or want to steal our treasures, I am going to share some of these with you.

imageYes, like most we have a box or two of sentimental costume jewelry, some still stylish, some homemade. Buttons and pins from moments past, bubble gum machine and Cracker Jack prizes fill some boxes, along with award pins, memento and employee milestones. Not just ‘stuff’ but moments and memories. Some treasure is too big to fit in jewelry boxes. Some small enough to just fill hearts.

imageThere is a tale behind this coin. In the first year we were married in 1974. Our first four months together were my last four months in the Marines. We were married in Norfolk and lived on the beach. This coin, an 1878 silver Canadian coin was a gift on our
imagehoneymoon. Well more like a reward. The day we were married we moved into our beach apartment and we spent the afternoon and most of the evening cleaning. We found the coin on top of a very dirty and sticky hot water heater.

imageIn September of 1974 living at Maysel, West Virginia, we got the news that Joyce was pregnant. We were elated. You see up till then we were wondering if she could. In April while still in the Marine Corp, we lost twins to a miscarriage. The Easter weekend surgery was devastating. There was a possibility she couldn’t get pregnant again. This news was joyful. So at the Clay County Apple Festival fair at Bradley Field we ran into one of the venders guessing weight. I gambled a dollar that they could not accurately guess Joyce’s weight. I won. She said, “if she is pregnant let me guess the baby’s sex.” I agreed. She said it would be a boy. I strongly disagreed. “This will be a girl. We already have a name picked out.” I insisted. She smiled and reached me a cheap pink princess phone. “Then here, this is her first present.” I know. I know. It should have been given to our daughter when Lorna was born eight months later. In a sense is is part of her as part of the Stuber Family treasure chest.

imageMy discipline didn’t just ‘begin’ as a Marine. No. I started out as a Cub Scout. Then I became a Boy Scout. And from age 12 to age 18 I had two bicycle paper routes (one in the pre-dawn morning and one after school). I have lots of certificates, awards and photos from those times. But this hat and three neckerchief holders are all the physical things I have of that world. When I was seven years old I came home from school with a piece of paper from Mrs. Dotson saying I wanted to join Cub Scouts. After meeting with her, my mom became a Den Mother. Years later when I became a Boy Scout, my dad would become Scout Master. Such was the depth of their commitment to their children and their community.

imageIf you can’t tell by looking at this what it is. It is a toddler’s cast. Right forearm. It was worn by our daughter Lorna when she was 21-months old and hospitalized for 30-days at CAMC Memorial Children’s wing in 1977.

imageShe had scratched a mosquito bite on her knuckle till it became infected and transmuted down into her bone. She developed Osteolemitis, a crippling children’s disease.

This was a joyful yet traumatic time in our life. We had our second daughter Leona only thirty days prior to this event and I was briefly unemployed living on unemployment with now, no insurance. Fortunately, WV Crippled Children picked up the hospital bill. I stayed most of the time with Lorna, sleeping in a chair next to her bed. Joyce was splitting time with Lorna at the hospital and the newborn at home. We leaned a lot on Joyce’s mom to baby-sit our newborn when Joyce wasn’t there. You have no idea how difficult it is to keep a toddler quiet and in bed with an I.V. and a cast. We did take long walks down the hallways, or long wheelchair rides when she didn’t feel like walking, and always with an I.V. pole in tow. It was a time we will never forget and a cast we will never give up.

imageYes. We have all the mother bracelets that the hospitals put on both mother and child when a child is born in the hospital. As much a keepsake as a birth certificate.

Toys are part of the treasure too. Trolls, dolls, charms.

imageEverything from brass doll furniture to die cast and rubber bicycles.

imageToys are indeed treasure

imageMy little Lynn Robinson. This is probably my oldest and dearest toy. Yes, mine. Not Joyce’s. In my lifetime I probably have owned every single playset that Marx toys ever made. I had all the army sets, WWII, Korea, Civil War, Fort Courage, Revolutionary War. I had the rare Cape Canaveral, Flintstone and Robin Hood sets. I had over 4,000 plastic figures including aliens, space figures and families (with the Marx Grocery and Supermarket). I had favorites: Dracula and wolf man from the movie monster figures. I also had several spacemen I kept, giving them names. One cowboy I named James and an army figure I named Greg. But this figure from the “Dolls of the World” figures (cast in styrene and not the regular plastic) was the only female I kept and became part of a small family of regulars I played with as a child. When I was twelve I put her up and locked her away.

imageShe had such an impact on my youth I made drawings of her and even wrote a poem about her. Talk about influence. My daughter Lorna’s middle name was after this figure. I tried to give her away twice: once to Lorna and once to her daughter Gillian. Lynn is indeed a treasure but needs to be played with again. Someday.

imageSome toys are just mementos of days gone by. I have a lead WWI soldier that used to set in my grandmother Orthello Fout’s glass display case.

imageA brown plastic tiki was a gift from a friend who thought it would bring me luck.

imageI even have a memento of Church Camp at Lake St. Mary’s in 1966. It is a glow in the dark cross framed on a red back ground. A place where I met and fell in love with Mary Sue Heilman. She lived in Genoa, Ohio hundreds of miles away and thus I lost her forever the moment she went home.

imageI also have an oval name patch. Customed in the style of the Commercial Freight lines logo. My grandfather Johnathan Henry Fout was a truck driver before he built and maintained his own truck garage. He wore a patch like this too with his name. Thank you, Grandpa.

imageTreasure included military patches, rank, hats, medals. I have one Marine Corp belt.

imageAmong medals I keep this one because the 1971 Hardin Northern Choir from Dunkirk, Ohio, which I was a part of, made Second in the state competition. I also have the 33-1/3 LP album we cut that year as part of our reward.

imageOne item we keep is the only thing Joyce has from her childhood. Something she found lying in the dirt, hours before she would go to the hospital and remain there for almost a week.

imageThis treasure really is a treasure. It is the”first” Elvis authorized necklace pendant released in 1956. The Elvis Collectible guide lists this on card with chain in mint for $3,500. I have seen one in this condition without card or chain sell on eBay for $40. Doesn’t matter it’s actual value. It is priceless in its sentimental value.

imageOur most precious treasures are the trinkets and gifts created for us by our children and grand-children. Like this little matchbook gift from Lorna to her mother. Even before she was known for her maker skills she was a skilled maker. A necklace charm cut and painted and drilled with the hands and fingers of love.

As you can see from just the few samples I have shown you, Joyce and I are rich beyond measure and we couldn’t possibly show it all here. Just know, treasure piles up every day in our lives.

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Sincere (Chapter One, Part Two)

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imageSanctuary

By Gary Lee Stuber


imageincere had a fitful night. His emotions flowing up and down like a raging river. On one hand he was excited about reading; learning for himself what secrets were hidden in the scrolls and books in the library he was working in. And, the possibility that somewhere among those secrets was the one he needed the most: how to earn salvation from his present state of damnation to hell. Contrarywise, if ordained as a priest, he would be forced to practice those things that he felt had continued to plague the members of his own class. He didn’t know if he could do that. He fought that persecution all his life. But one thing he knew for sure: Sebastian would have the determination to make all of this happen, with or without his cooperation. He rose early, since he wasn’t getting much sleep anyway, and went down to the library, unlocking the door with its only key. It had been his first night away from it and in his own bed. Sebastian had insisted. He moved inside, bringing the fire with him, that he would need to illuminate the mostly darkened enclosure. He was completely stunned when Sebastian showed up early, barely before he had the room well lit. But more so for what he saw in Sebastian’s attitude. Was that happiness?

He had seen Sebastian happy on occasions, but NEVER when he was tutoring clerics or fellow priests. Then he was always sober, even bitter sometimes when his frustration was showing. But this Sebastian, he was unsure he had ever seen. Sebastian walked right up to him and threw his massive arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze before jumping back. “Today,” he said loudly, with a broad smile, “We begin a new relationship with God.” He held in one hand a priests cloth and mantle. It drew Sincere’s attention even as he spoke.
____”Relationship?” Sincere asked, somewhat puzzled.
____”I know the answer to your question — how a sinner earns salvation.”
____”Tell me quickly.”
____”You cannot earn it.” Sebastian said with a smile.
____”I am damned then.” Sincere shrugged, helplessly.
____”No. No, you are not.” Sebastian said, giggling like a child. “Salvation is NOT something you earn. Nor can you bribe God to get it with ransoms or good deeds no indulgences. It is something you are given – it is a gift of God.”
____”And you have this gift?”
____”Yes!” Sebastian shouted, and tears punctuated his joy. This only served to confuse the young student. “And you can have it too. It’s free – it truly is a gift…”
____”How do I get this gift?”
____”Well, it starts with remorse. It starts with a contrite heart. You must feel such sorrow and regret for your sins that you beg God to forgive you for them.”
____”Sebastian, this I have done a number of times,” Sincere said, “If I had the power to undo the things I have – I would. If I could but bring back to life just one of the people who died because of me I would give my life in his place.”
____”Good. Good.” Sebastian said eagerly, “Christ said, confess your sins and they shall be forgiven you.”
____”Theft?”
____”Yes.”
____”Murder?”
____”Yes.”
____”Why? How?”
____”Because someone a long time ago prayed that you would remember your sin and your guilt, and in your sorrow, you would ask God to forgive it. So God told that someone that if He would pay for your sins right there and then that He would not hold yours against you if you asked for forgiveness in His name. He agreed and He paid for those sins the very next afternoon.”
____”How much did he pay?”
____”Everything a man could possibly pay – all of his tears and all of his blood.”
____”And because of this man,” Sincere began, a sudden rush of tears to his own eyes, “all I have to do is ask God to forgive my sins and I won’t be damned to hell for all eternity.”
____”You will be,” Sebastian said, his voice trembling with joy, “a beloved brother of Christ, welcomed into Heaven!”
____”Forgiven? Welcome?”
____Sebastian, too overcome to speak, only nodded.

Sincere was overcome with a a weakness in his stomach. He didn’t think he could hold himself up and he dropped to his knees. Feeling a little faint, he dropped forward on his hands, trying to hold up a nearly numb body. Then, as if in pain, he began to sob great tears. He began to cry out between the sobs and the labored breathing, “Great God of the universe forgive me of my sins – my most innermost secret sins too. I stole from my parents, I think something I did caused my father’s death. I never knew – I never went back. I held hatred and contempt for all those who knew me and felt envy for those who had power over me. My selfish, arrogant, prideful acts landed me here and caused the deaths of so many men and women and orphaned so many children. Please God forgive me of these awful sins in the name of the one who paid for them, who prayed for me, even though I did not know his name…” After a moment or two of sobbing, Sincere composed himself, rising on one knee to ask:
____”What was the name of the man who took away my sins?”
____”His name is Jesus, the Christ, the only begotten Son of God,” Sebastian sobbed now, as well, “And we will both come to know him well.”

True to his word, Sebastian began to teach the young charge how to read, teaching him daily from scripture which they discussed with a new found enthusiasm. Sincere began to think back to those days when he looked out over the balcony and questioned the existence of God. And somewhere deep in his soul he was still looking for confirmation. He was seeking some miracle that would happen that could suddenly make him believe beyond question; beyond doubt. He was growing however in faith and knowledge. He discovered that he absorbed reading and writing easily. That somehow it was linked with his lifetime skill of being able to see or hear and remember and then recall anything he heard. Suddenly, with his memory he could put sounds to the the marks and scribbles on the parchments and scrolls. And he could link sounds to make words, and remember those words with ease. Sebastian found him an excellent student and his rapid growth was remarkable. He even had a skill that Sebastian had not. He could read, then remember and quote whole passages of scripture; even whole books. Sebastian began to teach him the trade too, the doctrine, rituals and practices of the church. Sebastian without the authority of the church, nor even seeking confirmation, bestowed upon the young Sincere, the title of Priest, and insisted that he dress in the robe of the church and wear on his shoulders the mantle of priesthood. His first day at morning prayers he stunned all the other clergy, but none of them dared to raise an objection. Eventually, each accepted him as one of their own.

Sincere had noticed a change in his mentor as well. Sebastian began to lose girth, spending more time and energy working with the poor than setting at the table. He spent inordinate amounts of time teaching clerics and priests from the books of Romans, Ephesians and Hebrews and lectured incessantly. He watched as Sebastian began sharing the message of hope and salvation to the poor and ill while dispensing food and medicine. He counseled the weak and those without hope and all of this without demanding a reward or the indulgence – the typical bribe for his services. This did not go unnoticed by the other priests in the abbey. But attitude and circumstance within the abbey had grown so positive, the joyous change was welcomed by most of the clergy and if there was talk of “heresy” or “blasphemy” was only in random whispers within the walls.

Between his prayers, duties and studies of scripture in four languages: Latin, Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic, Sincere spent week after week meticulously copying and checking marks from the tablets onto a single leather scroll. He found not only the energy, but a newfound interest in not only doing God’s work, but doing ALL work in the name of Christ. When asked, he even found time to clean livestock pens and carry water, he did so with a Psalm, or a grateful prayer on his lips. If he were ever looking for a miracle for confirmation that should have been it.

Often he would rise in the middle of the night, paranoid that he had gotten a mark or two in error on the leather scroll from the original tablets and go down to the library and check and tirelessly recheck his work, which was always without error. Sebastian too, proof read all the work and could hardly believe that it was proceeding without any human error at all, almost as if God had a divine finger upon the work itself. Two years passed, and the work proceeded.
____”What do you think this is?” Sincere asked one day as Sebasting was perusing his work.
____”Well, it’s not Hebrew, but does share some characters.”
____”No, Sebastian, I don’t mean the language. I mean, what do you think these tablets are?”
____”I think they constitute a single piece of work.”
____”Exactly,” Sincere said, realizing his mentor was on the same thought track, “And written by the same author.”
____”What makes you say that?”
____”This character,” Sincere said, “from the first to the last tablet was made by the same person. Note, no matter where it is, it is made with the same pressure, the same depth. The same slight push to the left that makes the clay rise here. The penmanship is perfect. A perfect man with perfect penmanship.”
____”Or a perfect God.” They both laughed. Neither of them at that point was willing to concede that God wrote this himself. But they did agree it was done by a single author. Sebastian asked, “Anything else?”
____”Well, after carefully studying the lines of text, it doesn’t seem to be arranged like a story or narrative. It seems to be arranged like some kind of..”
____”List.” Sebastian finished for him. “I thought the same thing myself, But a list of what? Men? Generations? Places? What Places? The Bible does speak often of other books: like the Book of Remembrance, or the Book of Wars, if these were they, I would hardly think they would be written out in list form. But I don’t think so, I think these are older from where they were found.”
____”Are you ready to tell me, yet.”
____”No. I am sworn to secrecy.”
____”There does seem to be some kind of order in their arrangement.”
____”What does this mean?”
____”I don’t know, I wish I did, but I have been working on something else.”
____”What?”
____”Pronunciation. I mean, you noted that it looked much like Hebrew. Maybe it is Hebrew. Just older. Maybe a more complex Hebrew than what emerged later. I gave Hebrew sounds to characters that looked like Hebrew characters and experimented giving new sounds to new characters that looked similar to what might become Hebrew characters.”
____”Why would you do this?”
____”I mean if I pronounce this in my slurred version of Hebrew I get: ‘koraff-fravdah-tah-moyhev.’ Nonsense. But listen, I mean really listen as I slur it again. Listen to the sounds, not the words. what does it seem to say to you?”

Sebastian struggled. It kept sounding like the gibberish it was, and then, suddenly he seamed to hear it.
____”The great proud one.” Sebastian said, “Yes I heard it. But what does it mean?”
____”I’m not sure. There are other lines just like it.”

Sincere began to read random lines from the tablet, but clarifying them for Sebastian in to what he thought they sounded like without the slur in Hebrew. Here is ‘Chief of the mountains‘. And another, ‘green tree in spring‘, and ‘lovely white peace‘ and even ‘flower from the sand‘… and…”

Suddenly, right in the middle of his reading, Sebastian’s white dove, leaped from the shoulder of his master and onto the forearm of Sincere who was still reading lines.
____”White One?” A stunned Sincere stroked him.
____”I don’t know,” Sebastian shrugged, “Maybe she’s beginning to like you. This has never happened before.”
____”Do you like my words? Do you like my voice?” Sincere continued to stroke the dove that made no effort to move on. “Or do you just like the language? Maybe it makes more sense to you than it does to me.” He laughed.
____”It doesn’t make ANY sense. But you may have struck on something. If the list is nothing more than thousands of nonsensical phrases then how practical or how sacred could this list be?”
____”Maybe if I knew where it was found.” Sincere tested.
____”No.”
____”Well, maybe I have to see the bigger picture. If I memorize the whole document, I can see how they relate to each other. Do you think these could be names? I mean we know they are not geneologies, since they don’t repeat a father to son in the way the Hebrews do, line to line. But maybe they are place names? Places precious to God.”
____”Flower from the sand?” Sebastian said. Then they both broke out in a laugh. They couldn’t help it, considering a place with such a name. Sebastian got serious for a moment. “You know the work is almost completed. A couple more weeks and we will have to return the tablets to Graysant.”
____”Do you think we should suggest our verbal translation?”
____”Not until, or unless it begins to make more sense,” Sebastian retorted. “There is already talk within these walls that I am crazy. I don’t need your theory to confirm it.”

The days passed, and the work was completed. An armed division of church soldiers, sent by the Vatican left the abbey with the crate on its way to Rome. The scroll, however, it’s existence unknown to Rome, remained with Sebastian until the secret group who commissioned it, would return to claim it.
____”Has it ever crossed your mind that after all these years, especially with my service to the community, that if I did slip out that no one would have the time or interest in hunting me down? That in effect I could just slip out and disappear some night?”
____”Yes, I thought about that and have often wondered why you didn’t.”
____”Maybe I was waiting on the scroll. Until it was completed.”
____”So you could steal it?” Sebastian laughed.
____”Yes, so I can steal it.”
____”Sincere. You cannot steal that which you already own. I know you have memorized the scroll. In fact, you have memorized every scroll here. You know all the scriptures by heart. You could, given the time, write back ever written work in this building. Without error, I might add. The scroll is not what keeps you here.”
____”I had to watch out for you, old man. I mean, there are rumors in this abby that you are crazy.” He grinned.
____”I would be flattered if that were true. But what kept you here was Christ. He beckons you, he calls you to his service and you hear the call. Why is it that you resist?”
____”A red sea. A burning bush. A whale come to swallow me.”
____”What?”
____”I once imagined that God was sitting back laughing, pleased that I was parcelling out stolen goods. That was my imagination. If there was laughter it was from the Lord of Chaos – whom I had served in my youth. I guess I just want to know there are real miracles and that they can change lives.”
____”Is not your own story not such a miracle. The children you helped raise, whose parents your ignorance helped to kill – do not these young people now love you and show you the respect they would any other priest? A young thief, and murderer, like the one that hung on the cross beside Christ – did he not redeem you like him? He spared your life, made it useful to Him, and to others – and has provided for you an eternity in Heaven.”
____”I know, and I am grateful, and sometimes I am so convinced he has a great plan for my life. But every now and then, I wonder, where is God, when will he deliver those around me from the persecutors. I wonder why he does not act. I wander what he waits for.”
____”Perhaps,” Sebastian said, “He waits for you.”

Sincere laughed, but deep inside he knew Sebastian’s record of being a modern day prophet and wondered if God still had some hidden fate, some hidden surprise that only a miracle would launch.
____”You need to make an early night of it.” Sebastian said, “Some of the council are arriving in secret tonight so they can take the scroll out of here without the fear of its becoming an event. So – off to bed with you early – some on the council still think of you the way they saw you dragged in here – as an unredeemable criminal. You can’t be down here when they arrive.”
____”Would you mind terribly if I just sat up in the library and studied?”
____”No. You are welcome to, but keep it quiet, lock yourself in and under no circumstances should you come down stairs while the council is here.”
____”Understood.”
____”And keep this bird with you.” Sebastian said, pulling White One off of his shoulder, “You know how Graysant hates him. He calls all fowls dirty and disgusting. Keep him in the library with you. Besides you know he likes you. Study your scriptures, make an early night of it. The Lord has need of your services in the morning.”

He did as he was bidden. He took the dove to the library with him, he lit several lamps and sprawled out on the tables a number of the sacred scrolls. He took out a small cloth bundle and unwrapped a small piece of bread. It was warm when he first wrapped it but was now cold. He ate a small piece and shared the rest with White One. A number of wild doves and pigeons voiced their objection in the rafters with their cooing. He pulled down in front of him one of the unrolled scrolls and began reading. It wasn’t very long before something caught his attention and the hairs on the back of his scalp began to stand up. He read the passage out loud:
_____”And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them; and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof.

Suddenly like a man possessed he began to write down phrases he could recall from that day when he introduced his theory to Sebastian. He began to write from the beginning, “great proud one. chief of the mountains. green tree in spring.” and as he wrote he pronounced each in the slurred Hebrew aloud, “lovely white peace.” Again, as if by command, White One flew up from his spot on the table and onto the forearm of Sincere. Sincere sat back in amazement, stunned by the move. “Lovely white peace,” he said again, louder this time.

The bird only sat there and looked back at him. But another unusual thing happened.   Another white dove, a wild one, quietly hiding among the rafters flew down and joined White One on his arm. “Lovely white peace.” he said a third time, a little louder this time. A stranger thing happened. Two doves sitting in the trees outside flew into the room, through the open window and lighted upon his arm. All four birds bravely sat there watching as if waiting for instructions. “Fly to the window.” He said, in his own native tongue. All four birds as if discerning his strange words flew to the window sill and sat upon it.”Return to my arm,” he commanded, his excitement barely containable, and they returned to his forearm. “Return to your places unless you are summoned.” Immediately, the two doves flew out the window, the third to the rafters and White One leaped onto the table to nibble at the remaining scraps of bread.

Sincere stood up and pushed away from the table and suddenly dropped to his knees; he had been swallowed by his whale.

Great tears dropped from his eyes and he felt shame because of the doubt he had expressed so recently. “Oh Great God,” he uttered between sobs, “He who numbers the hairs on the heads of all men, who knows when a single sparrow drops or commands it to do his bidding with but the utterance of its name…Great and Awesome God as I promised, I am thy servant. I will do your bidding and live all of my life in your service. I do not understand why you make innocent men to suffer, just as Christ did. I do not pretend to know why evil men prosper, and your own church sometimes persecutes the poor or the powerless, but I promise my life to your service. Do with me what you will…”

He spent an undetermined time in prayer and the utterance of gratitude but rose when he remembered what this would mean to Sebastian. He knew that he had been instructed not to go downstairs, but now, he felt that he must. He felt compelled to go down and to share with Sebastian and with those who were taking possession of the scroll its meaning, and its power and its testimony to the sovereignty of God.

He unlocked the library doors and flew down the stone steps to the great hall. His heart was light and joyful as he approached the table before the great fireplace. He was not prepared for what he would find there. In front of the fire, on the stone hearth, lay the body of Sebastian in a pool of blood. The room was filled with strange soldiers who stood guard – motionless while Graysant, turned towards him, wiping a short sword clean of its blood with the leather scroll that he and Sebastian had spent many years preparing.
____”Good.” Graysant said, motioning his men from all directions toward him. “This spares me from the massive search of this place to find you.” With a causal toss he threw the scroll into the great roaring fire in the fireplace. Graysant crossed to Sincere. ” I don’t think you have any doubts about what I am prepared to do if I don’t get what I want.” He held the blade up under his throat.
____”What do you want?”
____”Don’t pretend with me, you insolent thief, how dare you wear the robe and mantle of priesthood. You will show me the proper respect – take that attitude out of your voice or I will cut it out of you. Give me what I want.”
____”What DO you want, YOUR HOLINESS?”
____”Give me the SCROLL?”
____”The scroll? You held the scroll in your hands, you threw it into the fire.”
____”You test me thief.” Graysant give him a couple of stabbing pricks in the throat with the point of his sword just to make his point,” I mean the REAL scroll.”
____”That was the REAL scroll. It is the ONLY scroll. There is no other.”
____”Don’t lie to me boy. I can tell when someone is lying. You are lying.”
____”That is the truth.”
____”You’re a thief and a liar. That was not written in Sebastian’s handwriting. I know it well. It was something that you scrawled out, so that you could steal the real scroll.”
____”Sebastian’s hands were crippling. He had me spend years transcribing that scroll. He only checked my work. The handwriting was mine, I admit, but, it was the one and only scroll. You destroyed it.”

Graysant released him throwing him to the great wooden chair that sat at the head of the long wooden table in the room in front of the fire. “Bind him there,” he instructed his men, then turned his attention back to Sincere. “Good,” he smiled, “I hope for your sake that you are not lying.” He called at the guard. “Search the place, kill all that you encounter. Leave none alive.”
____”No, you can’t do this!” Sincere cried, “For God’s sake.”
____”Why don’t you know? Thief, Murderer. YOU did this. You lay in wait all these years until time and opportunity presented itself, then you killed your keeper and all his household. Such a tragedy. But after this you took all the treasure out of the abbey and fled, you hid the treasure which was never recovered. But you were chased down by a valiant and righteous army who killed you and dragged your body back here where is was posted in the square to rot in shame and disgust.”
____”You will never get away with this!”
____”Oh, but I already have. You see, whether or not there is another scroll, this will come to pass, just as I have said.

They bound him in the great chair, putting chains around his wrists behind him and closing them with an iron lock, throwing the key in front of him on the great dining room table as if to taunt him with it. Already the screams and cries of servants and staff began to filter down from the upper chambers as the soldiers accomplished their devious work among the unarmed residents of the abbey.
____”Why are you killing for a scroll you destroyed?”
____”You think that I left the tablets here these past few years without first making my own scroll?” His eyes lighted up as he spoke. “Sabastian didn’t tell you? This is interesting. He had you transcribe it and you didn’t even know what he was doing with it or how it got here?” Graysant sat down close to him. Filtered cries continued to pour in from the hallway.
____”A number of years ago a great warming came upon the world. And a goat herder came upon a huge find at the top of a tall mountain in the east. A ship, a great boat — yes, Noah’a ark was recovered. The Church sent an army out to survey it. Aside from wood and waste, dust and old straw, the only thing of any value left in it were these tablets. There were indications that another set of tablets had been there too. But they had been removed with the occupants. It was Sebastian who suggested to me that Noah and his family took those with them as genealogies of both the earth and the families. And these were passed down to Moses who translated them into the Hebrew history we now know as Genesis. But the tables we found were what Noah left behind? Why? Why would he do that?” Graysant waved a hand, “I don’t really expect you to know that. But I had tasked Sebastian to find out what it was that Noah left behind. They seemed older and to me very important.” He looked down at the old priest’s body. “He told me that he did not know what it was, he never discovered what they were. And I have been telling him for years that I always knew when he was lying. I gave him a chance to recant. And now it comes down to you. Before you try to lie to me I will give you a chance to think about this. I will be back shortly, but I will have to leave soon. After all I was never here.” Graysant left the room.

Sincere’s head was swimming. He knew exactly what the tablets were. In fact they may have been written down by Adam as he named each of the kind brought unto him in the garden. He knew also why the tablets were left behind. No one should have the power to call a creature to divinely suffer a task for sinful mankind. He knew God himself must have demanded Noah leave the tablets behind, redefining man’s relationship with all of God’s created creatures on the Earth. He could even recall the verse from Genesis. The words God spoke to Noah about his future on the Earth with his creatures:
And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; into your hand are they delivered.”

Where once man held dominion and command of every creature by calling it to task by the name given to it by Adam, now they would be meat and sacrifice, slave and fearful quarry. And with the secret left behind they would no longer serve as compliant servants to man. Sebastian, if he didn’t know this, must surely have sensed it. Now this information would also shorten his own life. But it was a secret worth keeping. A secret worth dying for.

Sincere began to pray, crying out to God, as tears began to fill his eyes for the victims once again he might be responsible for killing. In the moonlight just outside a window near to him he caught a glimpse of movement. It was a hummingbird flitting in and about the nocturnal flowers, He thought about it for a moment and seemed to recall a phrase from the scroll which aptly seemed to fit it. He cried aloud in his prayer: “flower song stitcher.”

Suddenly before his face danced an eager hummingbird, he could barely make it out between his tears. “Get behind my back,” he quickly shouted before Graysant or one of the guards could witness it. The hummingbird quickly complied with his instructions, but the remark drew the attention of others in the room. They started to move towards him to see whom he was instructing. “Get behind me Satan” he shouted again as they came toward him. He quoted the words of Christ to his enemies.”
___” Satan?” Graysant, who was coming back into the room, suddenly stopped to laugh. “You think I am Satan? And who are you? A Priest? You wear the mantle of priesthood. I’ll bet that good old Sebastian even taught you the scripture. I’ll bet you can do more than copy marks on a scroll. I’ll bet you can read and write. Ironic isn’t it? The thief and murderer becomes a priest; the priest becomes a murderer and thief, again.  You’ll wish I were Satan or one of his demons before this ends for you this night. A demon would be more merciful.
____”I’m sorry I can’t be here for the most pleasurable of activities yet to come, but the rest of the council expects that I am somewhere else and thus I must be there. But don’t worry, my soldiers will carry out my word to the very last jot and tittle.”

He moved the the captain of the guard, “Scourge the house. Be sure that the scroll is not here and that no one is left alive to tell a different tale. And then, well…” A delirious smile came over the captain of the guard’s face even as Graysant was suggesting it. “Well, you know…enjoy yourself.”

But as they talked and Graysant moved toward the doors and the only other exit other than the window, Sincere looked about the room trying desperately to think of something, anything that would help. The key, he thought, is on the table. The hummingbird could bring it to him, but he would need a distraction so that none would be looking his direction. Then he saw it. A small mound in the corner of the stone hearth. It was an anthill. What did Adam call them? “Glorious Dark Foundation of the Earth,” he shouted. This got the attention of the officers, especially the captain. “Come rescue me,” Sincere called, “Strike at my enemies, burn them, strike them, bring them to their knees before me.”
___”Now he commands the forces of Darkness as well as the powers of Heaven!” One guard laughed, misunderstanding his statement. It was apparent that the emotional utterance made a few of them contemplate such a thing and they looked about them for an invisible enemy. It was not long in coming.
___”Oh! OH!” The captain of the guard screamed as he was bitten by a great host of black ants that were crawling up inside his leggings up under his armor. He flailed at them at first with his hands, and then with his sword and danced around staggering back closer to the hearth until he fell back against the roaring logs. His vest and great mane of dark hair was immediately ignited. He screamed, trying to stand and move away from the fire, but he brought the fire with him. His whole body now engulfed in flame, he fell forward nearly on the body of Sebastian.

This had an immediate reaction on the remainder of the guard in the room. They threw down their weapons and fled in terror chased out by their own guilt and sense of impending doom.
____”Flower song stitcher,” Sincere called as the room cleared. The hummingbird quickly presented itself before his face. “The key, on the table. Put it in my hands.” The bird flew off in obedience and snatched up the key bringing back to his cupped hands locked behind his back, gently placing it in his fingers. It flew back to his face for further instruction. “Now save yourself,” he commanded, “Fly away.”

About that time, the burning mass that had been the captain of the guard, pulled itself up and crawled toward the chair that Sincere was bound into. Sincere desperately clutched at the lock trying to fit the key into it with one hand in a very awkward angle. At the same time the lumbering smoky mass pulled itself with a single arm in his direction. Moment after moment met with failure and frustration as he tried first to fit the key and then turn it. He did this while praying, “Father of the precious Son, Jesus Christ. If you have need of me, use me. And if you need me to live and serve you then make it possible. If you require my life as sacrifice, then take it, I freely offer it to you.” And with those words the key fell to the floor. The sound of it it bouncing on the stone floor echoed over and over in his ears.
____”Blessed be your will.” He breathed and went limp in the chair.

The blackened hand grabbed at his ankle and the hot metal burned itself into his skin. Sincere screamed as the pain penetrated his body. And a miraculous thing happened. The lock fell open and the chains fell off from his hands. With his fingers, he pried the hot, charred, dead hand from his ankle and rose from the chair limping to the widow. The chair where he had been sitting burst into flames, igniting the dining table as well. The heat in the room pressed at him from his position near the window and he moved out as far as he could through it. Outside the window in the moonlight he could see there was a drop the height of many men to a cobbled stone walk. and a small creek beyond too far to leap to in safety. He did consider jumping anyway. He saw them, lining the roof and parapet, and in the trees – doves, pigeons and turtle doves. He called at them, “lovely white peace, help me, save me.” His strength giving out, he fell through the open window toward the stoney ground but never struck it. Nearly a hundred doves grasped at his clothing and his hair, and his fingers and carried him softly to the ground beyond the gate and the creek. When his senses came back to him he saw them. “Thank you my brethren, now save yourselves. I release you.” The birds flew away obediently.

He rose up in the darkness and moved way from the clamor behind him. The dark horizon behind him suddenly burst into orange light as the abbey went up in flame. The frantic yelling of the dying and the desperate shouts of terror and fear from the escaping guard gave him direction but in the dim light he stepped into a creek bed, tripping onto his face. He rose up on his knees there. “Thank you great and glorious one for rescuing me. May I live to see your will done. ”

He washed off the burning ankle in the creek. The stinging fire in it seemed to let up with the splash of cool water on it. He found he could even walk on it somewhat better. He fled deeper into the woods.

By daylight he knew why he was walking better. The charred flesh of his ankle had been completely restored almost as if he had never been burned. Like the chains that had fallen off of him, he knew it was a generous gift of God and there was no earthly explanation for its mystery. Thus he shared a prayer of gratitude as he moved along in the forest.

Near the end of that first day, he stopped a couple of times to pray. He wept once, not for himself, nor his plight, but for the memory of Sebastian whose life and ministry had ended in the hands of a fellow minister. As hunger came upon him, he remembered how God had commanded the ravens to bring Elijah both bread and water, by day and night. So when he saw a raven he called to it. “harbinger of ominous news, I am hungry, bring me something to eat.”

The raven came back in an hour, and two others with it. They brought four worms, a grub and two locusts. He wished he had been more specific. But, he thanked God for the bounty, which did indeed give him the energy to press on.

Two days later, he came into a clearing where a path led him to a hamlet he had never seen before. He tried to exercise some of the stealth of his youth and pass quietly across a barley field without notice, but was spotted by some local peasants who rushed to him.
___”Father,” they cried. He still wore the mantle from the abbey he had escaped from. “Come, Let us take you to our village. We have food and clothes and you need rest. Besides this,” they said, “The Bishop resides at our abbey and he is a just and kind man who exercises his power over the rest of the abbeys in the country. Whatever has been done to you, this man has the power to set it right.”

So he went. He indulged them. They fed him, washed his clothes and mended the holes that the forest had made in his robe. And after a few days rest, they brought him to the abbey to meet Bishop Aekain. There he could file grievances against whomever wronged him.

He arrived at the great hall inside the abbey and waited for his host. But what would he say? “I once was a thief and murderer but I was ordained by a Priest who is now dead, who some such as Priest Graysant – would tell you I killed. And now I seek refuge from the church I serve so that I can save the poor from it’s evil clutches?” Poor argument. He thought about leaving, and began to turn to the door. A familiar voice called out.
____”Guards. Stop that man. He is a murderer and thief.” Sincere turned back to see Graysant. The guards moved to block the exits.
____”I don’t know what you are doing here, Graysant,” Sincere said, “But we are about to get to the truth of all that has transpired. You might want to flee.”
____”Really?” Graysant cooed. “Maybe I will just stay.”
____”Not everyone in the church is as callous and evil as you, Graysant.” Sincere warned. “The truth shall be revealed, and the truth shall set me free.”
____”Who will hear this truth?” Graysant asked.
____”The Bishop Aekain.” Sincere challenged.
____”Bishop Aekain Graysant?” Graysant asked, motioning to a servant who brought him the headpiece worn by a Bishop. He put it on and all those in the room bowed to him except Sincere.
____”In the name of truth,” Graysant shouted, “In the name of justice, in the Holy Name of our Lord, I command that you take this man, this murderer, liar and thief and throw him in the dungeon pending his execution.”

The guards rose off their bowed knees and pressed in on him, restricting all his movement. He could barely breathe, but he could pray. And the guards could hardly believe their ears as they closed the door, leaving him in the darkness. He was praying, but not that God would rescue him, but a prayer of gratitude.

End of Chapter One

You are responsible for Chapter Two

Rules:

  1. Use your imagination, sense of drama
  2. Use scripture, and biblical principals to advance your story and the cause of Christ
  3. Use 5,000 words or less and leave your character alive at the end of the chapter
  4. No hurry.  Have Fun

Suggestions:

  1. Use your ability to call creatures to task, sparingly. Be cautious of their limitations. Be considerate. Reward them if you can.
  2. Try not to exercise divine gifts when others can see it. This will be seen in a superstitious world as occult or witch powers and will certainly not advance the cause of Christ.
  3. Goals should be centered around helping others, and self second. Remember, you are a superhero without superpowers. Integrity rules.

Keep in mind:

  1. There will be no trial. Graysant would not allow the truth to come to light. He is even hiding this from the council.  You probably ruined his plans. Some of his guard died where they should not have been.
  2. He probably thinks you have the scroll, or know its magic, or both. Surviving guards would have told him you called upon the darkness.
  3. Thus, he probably won’t kill you.  Not, at least, until he extracts this power from you.

Final note:

I told you in my original letter (a previous post) that this was originally written in 2002 for my youngest son.  He did not write Chapter Two.  So, I did, and thought quite seriously about turning this into a Christian novel. Some day, in a future post, I may share my version of Chapter Two. For now I leave this in YOUR hands.  Give it a shot. Your digital Chapters of 5,000 words or less can be emailed to me at gary_stuber@yahoo.com if you want to impress me with your creative story-telling.  No hurry. Take your time. Do your best.  In a future blog, I may publish exerpts from the best submissions. Or, for those less wordy who want to comment on the story thus far or speculate on where it should go: leave your comments below.

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Alternative History: Disney Wolf Brings Nation to its Knees

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Disney Resorts the Largest Christian Ministry in America

Disney as a Christian ministry? Millions of American families every year flock to the Christian themed Disney vacation playgrounds of California, Florida, Missouri and the recently opened Buffalo, New York resorts. Looking back on the 50 years of Disney resort history that started with a mouse, probably wouldn’t have gotten where it was without a wolf.

Disney Characters: Beloved or Scary

While Mickey Mouse was Disney’s first big screen hero, and while children will always love Minnie, Donald, Clarence, Clarabell, Pluto and others, it was Snow White that thrust Disney into the movie making business. Pinnoccio, Dumbo, Sleeping Beauty showed American movie makers that children’s animated stories could reach adults with romance and adventure equal to any live action movie. Perhaps Walt was taking a tip from Cecil B. Demile when in 1958 he began production on what was to become the turning point in Disney history: Little Red Riding Hood. Everyone knows this story. And we know it’s villain. We saw him years earlier in Disney’s Silly Symphonies ‘Three Little Pigs.’ As a child he terrified me, that Big Bad Wolf. Who knew he would transform the American culture?

Little Red Riding Hood (1959); Disney’s Greatest Movie

Disney always takes liberty with their stories. I mean, do we really want to see a Brothers Grimm version of Cinderella? Dark and gruesome. (I must confess a little desire to see crows eat the eyes out of the wicked stepsisters). Disney is a master at taking gruesome material and making it G-Rated material. More than that. With its heart-touching drama, swelling, inspiring music and eye blasting color and art, Disney movies are emotionally transforming. And this was never more so apparent than in The Little Red Riding Hood movie released in 1959 and winning Disney an unprecedented 8 Academy Awards for a single movie, beating Ben Hur for Best Picture. And winning over audiences as the best Christian movie, ever.

As Only Disney Could

Yes, typically Disney, we had our plethora of new talking forest animals who did their best behind the scenes to protect the naive and innocent Mary from falling prey to the evil wicked Big Bad Wolf. Biblically themed throughout the movie, the animals weren’t the only ones quoting scripture. Grandma did a tremendous job holding her own in an argument with the wolf using the bible as both a sword in the literary sense and as a literal one too.

Beginning of a Revolution

But it was the final scene that is remembered most fondly by those who love Disney movies. After a hopeful expectation that the woodcutter would rescue Mary and her animal partners, when the woodcutter was accidentally dispatched, we lost all hope. Disney is a master at this too. Emotionally on edge we watched an evil, hungry monster approach her. Our fear was real. Then, calmly, Mary turns, down on her knees in prayer, soft and earnest. She is joined by her friends. Maybe because she forgave him, maybe, because we in the audience were praying too. Maybe, just because Disney is master at this as well, we saw the monster transform. We saw him confront his own mental image, his wickedness, and melt into regret. There were no dry eyes in the darkness as we watched a former monster get down on his knees as Mary helped him become a child of God. We left the theatre that day not only happy and complete, but transformed ourselves.

Wolf Replaces Mouse as Iconic Figure

Not only did the movie break attendance records in 1959, but it generated 18-theatrical shorts featuring, ‘The Good Wolf.’ And 8-theatrical shorts featuring the ‘Gospel Animals.’ The success of the picture had a lot of cultural fallout, the least of which was America’s need for Christian vacation resorts. Disney transformed its California Park from a mouse theme park to a Christian themed park. How can we forget the iconic statue of the humble wolf on his knees at the foot of the cross. Demand created more theme parks in Orlando, Florida; Branson Missouri and Buffalo, New York as well as 5 international parks overseas (but then I don’t have to tell you Disney’s history)

Spiritual Fruit of the ’60’s

What I would like to bring to your remembrance what it did for America. Not only did Disney start doing more movies from great Biblical stories. And even help create the first Christian educational channel for cable, but other movie studios and networks picked up the trend. In fact, good family entertainment was a staple of the 1950’s. Disney influenced that trend to continue well into the sixties and seventies, during a time when there was potential for great turmoil and spiritual corruption. Can you imagine what the 60’s and 70’s would have been like without the great Christian revival initiated by Disney?

What 1960-1970’s Could Have Looked Like: A Scary Picture for America

Let me paint you a scary picture. After the close of World War I when America was recovering from its wounds. Americans began to question the existence of God. Prosperity, mobility, humanism, needs of greedy men generated an era known as the ‘Roaring Twenties.’ We can easily see where America would be in the 60’s and ’70’s without the Evangelistic Revolution. What would America have looked like in this alternate version of history: anti-tradition rebellion, an increase of sexual abandon leading to a generation of fatherless children, a pervasive need for selfishness. abandonment of Christian ideals: parenthood, charity, responsibility. Perhaps a willingness to kill unwanted fatherless children (which would be a financial ruin to a selfish nation) or terminate the physically or mentally ill, or aged. Or like the return of the twenties: a proliferation of drugs and alcohol. Aren’t you glad that did not happen? Can you imagine what an America today would be like if we lived through an era like that?

A Grateful, Thankful Nation Should Thank Disney

Next Sunday when you take your family to church you might want to thank God for a wolf that kept Christianity alive and vibrant in your nation. The majority in this nation are faithful and still live by principals erected upon the foundation of America. And we continue as a nation of faith, families, prosperity, with goodness in its heroes, its media and its news. We exist as a nation that still upholds Christian ideas as our platform and maybe this began when we watched a bad wolf become a good wolf and knew if that could happen to the most wicked thing we knew, it could happen to America.

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Why ’50’s Baby Boomers Acknowledge a REAL God

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A Unique Generation

1950’s Baby Boomers grew up in a unique age. We have seen it all: the Family Friendly Moral decade; the Radical Anti-Establishment, Free Love decade; the Do It If It Feels Good, You Only Live Once decade; the Me First, Only I Count decade; and throughout all of it we saw a real, and active, creator of the universe, miracle wielding, because-I-said-it would-happen God.

The Next Greatest Generation

The stage was set for us in the decade prior to our birth. Our parents were part of the greatest generation, our fathers were the war heroes of World War II and the Korean War. The end of the war brought a new prosperity to the country, and with a nation of booming babies a decade of family friendly, father knows best media programming emerged. Moral-centered half-hour entertainment featured families, doctors, western heroes, boys and their dogs, red-headed comedians and more. Even our comic books were scrubbed clean by the Comics Code of Authority and Congress swept the threat of a Communism takeover out of the country.

A Healthy Dose of Bible: At Home or Church or School

But 1948 was a particularly significant year prior to our birth. Several events in that year would have eventual profound impact on our beliefs. Our parents were largely practicing Christians. During the war wives prayed for absent husbands involved in a conflict thousands of miles away, while men in foxholes prayed for miracles for themselves and their brothers. So by the 1950’s, reunited once again in the land of the brave and the free, grateful parents introduced their children to a good and great God. We attended Sunday School whether we wanted to or not. We were the last generation where Sunday School lessons still crossed over into public schools in our reading and history lessons, our music, our opening morning prayers. We were familiar with God, Christ his son, and all of the Biblical heroes and their stories. But a couple of religiously significant events happened in 1948 that would expand that culture.

God is Still in the Miracle Business

In May of 1948, the U.S. and England led the United Nations into a vote that would recognize the former state of Palestine as the new state of Israel. A nation that had not existed for nearly 1900 years suddenly and abruptly popped into existence. A new nation of Jews who spoke the old language and practiced the old Judean faith from the law and the prophets just as they did 1900 years ago. The significance of this took many of us years to realize. It did not take our God by surprise. I have a 1919 Schofield Bible. There is an interesting note at the bottom of the first chapter of Isaiah that reads: “While many in this age believe the prophet is speaking to them when he talks about a future Jerusalem in a modern Israel. And while many will find this hard to believe, he is actually speaking to future Jews who will occupy a real future Israel. God says this will happen, and this will come to pass in His time. When, no man can know.” I keep this gristled old bible as proof that the things God says will come to pass, do indeed, come to pass.

God’s Word is Still True and All Men Still Liars

Also in 1948 the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls ended speculation that the Bible was a recent manipulated construct of men. From the early 1900’s, learned men were instructed by “higher critics” that like men, who evolved from monkeys, the Bible was not the inspired word of God, but a collection of myths and convoluted histories that evolved too. They were told that devious men changed and edited text over the years to manipulate a religion by recreating its meaning. Various humanists over the years alleged that everyone from Constantine to Pope John conspired to add and delete text at will or cover up gnostic texts they said were part of the original. In 1948, the son of Edgar Caycee, a medium from Virginia Beach called ‘the sleeping prophet’, published a book about his late father and his belief in Reincarnation. The son, also named Edgar, alleged that his father believed men lived multiple lives and that the original Bible proved it. He said the Nicine and Trent Councils among others ‘edited out’ all references to reincarnation from the Bible in the late third century, A.D. I mean, without this confirmation, Caycee’s thousands of ‘previous life’ readings for a lifetime of customers could be called into question as fiction. How embarrassing it was to make that statement in 1948, months before the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls. It would take years to carefully discover that the entire old testiment was here and in multiple copies. And it did not include gnostic or heretic texts. But most amazing of all, the texts were sealed more than 100 years before Christ was born. Critics like Caycee were proven wrong. Higher Critics who ‘assumed’ scriptures like Mica, or Isaiah that gave specific prophecies about Christ were written well after he was born, were left proven wrong again. The comparison between text from 100 B.C. and present day Hebrew text from which the English Bibles of our day are derived, are, if not exact, are only minorly not so, with no discrepancies in doctrine or meaning. Archeology as well as biological sciences brought more and more proof of the Bible as God’s truth from the late 1950’s to the present. For most baby boomers this brought more conviction that God is real.

The Last Generation Without Free Love

Our heroes were noble, moral, God-fearing. We were ten years old or maybe teens when the world began to look crazy. Young adults wore long hair and beads, kissed everyone except the police. They filled the streets with noise and nudity. They popped pills, smoked dope, drank or shot themselves into oblivion. And except for communes never had children. Abortion became a word in school. Bibles and prayer were banned from school. Vietnam was a place perpetually in the news. We were too young to understand much of what all the ruckus was about, and thus, never bought into any of it. We raised our families, trying largely to pass on ideas and values that seemed largely out of step with the rest of America. Some of us have successfully generated yet a third generation of conservative Christians.

The Quiet Generation

A number of analysts have called the Baby Boomers of the 1950’s, a leaderless generation of followers. I would not go that far. If we have a third generation of Christian conservatives in a hostile progressive world it is not without leadership. What it was, however, was quiet leadership, not by the vocal antics we witnessed of the generation ahead of us in the 60’s, but practical leadership by example.

Bullied Right Out of the Debate

If we have failed to grasp the leadership reins of the country then it is because we have allowed the most raucous among us, the most vocal, to have their say, loud and long. It’s not that we agreed with abortion — but other than defending our pro-life beliefs we were told it was “illegal” to impose our beliefs on others. While we believe in heterosexual marriage only between one man and one woman we were called intolerant and bigoted if we did not allow others the American freedom to make other choices. We held our own beliefs, struggled at times to relay them to our own loved ones, and struggle now to fit into an America we barely recognize.

Like the Turtle: We May Be Slow, But We Are Sure

If, in this present world, we are having any success in keeping our Christian values and expanding them into our extended family, it is only because we know our faith is real. Our God is real. And. As we exercise our obedience, so He extends His faithfulness. And therein lies the key to America’s future. As we reach and teach our families and friends, hearts are converted one person, then one family at a time.

One With God IS the Majority

We didn’t destroy communism in Vietnam; we couldn’t have nuked it out of Russia. However it collapsed on its own like a house of cards. No
matter how loud or chaotic the current stock of rebels are, their socialist causes without divinity behind it will fail as it always has. Love and charity coupled with family and responsibility has always overcome all chaos. It transformed a nation 200 years ago with God’s help. And if we continue to partner with Him, will do it again.

The Way Back

God told us how to get back; He told us how to get our nation back. It doesn’t involve politics or voting. And we don’t have to shout down others or force them (as they do) to conform. His instructions to His own are simple:

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14

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1992 Charleston Distance Run Incident Leads to Incredible Miracle

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That is me at the end of the pink pointing arrow
That is me at the end of the pink pointing arrow

More Miracle Than I Can Count

I told you previously that preparing for the 1992 Charleston Distance Run brought about a miracle where God turned back the clock an hour and proved to me faithfulness is always rewarded. I also told you that I have personally witnessed more miracles than a man is entitled to in his lifetime. Well, that’s only half the story. In the tale I about to relate to you, you will see that I was immeasurably blessed. Perhaps no man, since Job, can say what I can in the past paragraph of this incredible story.

imageA Race to End Races

I wasn’t expecting a miracle that crisp September morning. Standing in my position in the marked section of Kanawwha Boulevard waiting for the start gun, I was mumbling a prayer under my breath. Miles away, on the East end of Charleston, four of my five children waited with my estranged spouse at the finish line. I had talked her into coming with us, my children too young to drive. I needed somebody to get my car and children to the finish line. It was a trade really. I had been going through a spiritual revival and my children who had all been living with me, had been attending church with me. My oldest daughter had gone to a Wednesday teen service with her mother at a much bigger church a couple of times. Her mother convinced me to take myself and the children there and I had. She was negotiating a deal for us to repeat the second Sunday there as a family. I consented, but she didn’t have to twist my arm. The kids had real appropriate age teachers that the small church we had attended did not have. We had been getting along better than ever in our short separation. It was a win-win and I couldn’t wait to see their smiling faces at the finish line. I did not know at the time that I would not.

An Uphill Battle

For those of you who have never run this race it goes down the Boulevard before turning up a side street then across the  bridge and up the mountain to Oakwood Road through Kanawha State Forest down across the bridge to downtown and eventually to the East end. Fortunately, the worst and hardest part of the race is that grueling uphill jog to Oakwood Road near its beginning. Once there, Oakwood levels off and meanders through Kanawha State Forest where the road is lined on both sides by trees and lovely stone walls and fences. I agree the mountain was indeed brutal but the breeze and shade of Oakwood Road was beginning to restore my strength. I passed one of the many ambulances parked along the way. I saw ahead of me the most comfortable spot on the side of the road and I ran up to it, leaned against the rock wall for a breath or two while I leaned over and supported my weight on my knees. It would be the last of the race I would remember.

This Might Have Been a Mistake

I left out an important part of the story. Since the practice run a week or two earlier that would provide such a big miracle in my life, I had gotten very ill. Flu really. It hit me on Monday just as I was going to work. I made it all day, despite the vomiting and diarrhea. It takes a lot to make me quit. It seriously curtailed my three-mile practice run that evening. It took me two days to come to the realization that vomiting would stop when I stopped eating and limited my water intake. I still made it to work, I still made my runs (no pun intended). But I needed more fluids that would not come back up. So, to my ice water only diet, I added lightly sweetened tea. By Thursday I was feeling better, but paranoid about taking in anything but tea and water. So I went to work Friday and before coming home, I stopped at the Civic Center and ate a free Spaghetti dinner provided for all registered distance runners. It was a ‘carb fill-up’ a tradition associated with the race. I kept it down. I needed it. It was the only thing I had consumed since the previous Sunday. My bad decision to go without fluids or sodium drinks, I would find out later, contributed to what happened to me at the race. I would later discover not only was I severely dehydrated but I was dangerously deficient of both salt and potassium, two essential elements in the human body.

The Helpless State of Oblivion

In the darkness I could hear them above me. People talking. I could make out some of it, “he’s coming around, wake up buddy.” And “he’s dehydrated.” I really did try to open my eyes, when I did a couple of times all I could see were flashes of light. “He’ll be alright in a moment. Maybe we should insert an IV and transport.” Another would argue, “Just give him a moment.” I could hear. But that was all. It was like I didn’t have control over my eyelids. I tried to talk and couldn’t. I couldn’t feel my arms or legs, was unsure I had fingers or toes but couldn’t move any of it. I was breathing but only for a moment as a horrible thing happened. They laid me on my back. I have always had a little sleep apnea, but now I was in real trouble. My tongue dropped back into the back of my throat with the weight of it, blocking my airway and I didn’t have the muscle control to push it up. The people above me talked and laughed and paid no attention to my silent screams: which in reality were just thoughts motivated by my panic. As it began to dawn on me that I might die, like everybody I began to plead with God. What would happen to my four minor children. I wasn’t even sure they were saved. Who would teach them. How about my wife. What about all those things I had always intended to finish, or start or get around too? Darkness engulfed me and I couldn’t hear any longer.

A Better Place Just Around the Corner

I had heard about NDE’s (Near Death Experiences) and had largely mocked them. And what I experienced may not track with what the media tracks as one of those. But I was suddenly overcome with an unearthly calmness. I was aware that I was surrounded by many, many others. They all seemed familiar, intimate. I felt like I knew them all, like family. I still couldn’t “see” anything but an occasional out-of-focus movement of light and shadow. Without a word spoken I was assured my children would be fine, they, and my wife would eventually join me, and life on earth would be fine without me. And that’s when the most unusual thing happened. An intense joy came over me. It is Impossible to describe in mere human words and in the intervening years since even impossible to fully remember. When I described it a day later to my wife I said, “Imagine you’re six and you wake up and in your foggy state you remember it is Christmas morning. Suddenly your heart bursts with intense joy and anticipation and you rush with joy down the stairs toward the room with the bright twinkling lights and you’re about to turn the corner into the best moment of your life. Recall that feeling. Now multiply it by ten.” I was on my way to the twinkling bight light when suddenly I could hear again. It was chaos. Noises, beeps, an ever present siren. “He’s back. He’s back. I got a heartbeat. We are a minute out.”

On Arriving Alive

I lost consciousness they say a second time after this. A nurse at the hospital said I was spitting at them as I couldn’t move anything but my neck, that I said, “it’s O.K. I can go. I can go.” One of the ambulance tech’s told them I was “having a religious experience. I’ve seen this a couple of times.” They didn’t leave me unattended in the ER, afraid I’d stop breathing again while they waited on a dozen test results. I don’t remember anything during that period.

Sorry to See You Leave

What I do remember is that while I still could not see, I was alive and barely conscious. And while I was no longer filled with that joyful anticipation, I was still not alone. Others, a hundred or a thousand pressed around me, their presence wonderfully assuring. Later, I would be terribly disappointed when I opened my eyes to only a few people in the room. For the first time in my life I was speechless. I was quiet, a little confused and introspective about what happened.

Lost My Shirt Not My Life

My wife came into the room, apparently they located her without my help. She was quiet too. Everything was so serious. Hours later they would release me after filling me with a cocktail of sodium and essential minerals missing from my body. I would be fully alert and conscious when I left the hospital. The logo shirt donated by my employer was returned to me in pieces. They had to cut it off of me to use a defibrillator. I felt grateful that they saved me from my stupidity. It would be the end of my running hobby. I moved on.

Fearless

In the years since, my memory of that NDE experience fades. I still remember the joyful anticipation but not with the intensity I once did. I still remember the feeling of the great crowd of company. I don’t know for sure if this applies, but I remember the Apostle Paul in the 13th chapter of Corrinthians saying, “For now we look through a glass darkly; but then, face to face. For now we know in part; but then we will know, even as we are known.” It doesn’t seem unreasonable to me that in Heaven everyone will know each other, like family, intimate and loving. Seems to me, that is exactly what Heaven should be. If that’s what Paul meant it is just speculation on my part. But what I did get that day, and has remained with me even into this very moment is this: I totally lost the fear of death. I can say, with Paul, “to be absent from the world is to be present with the Lord.” I KNOW what that FEELS like. Someday it will happen, can’t hardly wait, but till then like Paul I am sure I have unfinished business here.

NDE the Second Time Around

Everything I told you, while interesting, is NOT the miracle. The miracle began the next day. But before you see how it relates to all this, indulge me one minute more for something interesting. That event was my second brush with death. When I was a toddler, being the first in what would be six children I was the “practice child” for my mom and dad. Like all of us, they made mistakes. They let me get away with everything. I was so spoiled that I threw temper tantrums over everything. Somebody told my mother “let him cry, ignore him and it will stop.” Well, as a parent myself I know that toddlers adapt. As a toddler myself I did. I began holding my breath in mid tantrum when I saw it not working. I held my breath till I passed out. Again someone told my mom, “It’s not hurting him, let him pass out.” She did. Until one day after a lengthy tantrum I was silent longer than she was used too. When she found me I was blue and unconscious, she scooped me up and yelled at my dad. There is 9.7 miles between that Dunkirk, Ohio house and the Hardin Memorial Hospital in Kenton, Ohio. My dad did that distance in five minutes. The ER team went to work on me and fifteen minutes later declared me dead. Gary Lee Stuber died 1954. Doctor DeWar broke the terrible news to my parents.

Once More into the Battle

My tiny now blackened body was taken to the morgue. The nurse filled out a tag and tied it to my little foot. She covered my small frame with a blanket and was on her way out. Then she heard a sound. I cried. She had laid me on a metal slab in a cold room. My body reacted. She brought me up immediately to my mother in the doctor’s office where my mother had just been given a certificate of death. A collectors item indeed, except she tore it up joyfully in pieces.

The toddler who did everything he wanted
The toddler who did everything he wanted

Doctor DeWar told my mother, “When he throws a tantrum or holds his breath, jerk him up and turn his butt red. You break him of this.” My younger siblings never got the free ride I did for my first two years I did. The free ride ended for all of us.

Oh Yeah, About That Miracle

I came home that afternoon and sat in quiet contemplation of what had transpired. I knew the story of my NDE as a toddler but had no memories of being younger than five. This event was different. I was alive and filled with strange memories and emotions. I was quiet, but did relay some of what happened to my wife when I dropped her off at her trailer on my way home with the kids. As promised the next morning we all went to church as a family. The service was good, but had a more profound affect on my wife than on me. After the service, she pulled me aside, “I am having trouble forgiving myself.” It wasn’t long before we got the pastor involved in the conversation. “Are you saved?” He asked. She wasn’t sure. “Well, let’s go get sure.” Our two daughters listening to this, caught the Pastor’s attention. “Anyone else want to come to the alter and get saved?” My oldest daughter said, “Yes.” And was chimed immediately by my youngest daughter. I sat behind a few pews back as I watched the event. I wept. The assurance I had been given only a day earlier came true. I thanked God. But this miracle was not over. My wife and I ended our separation and attended this church becoming a real family again and members. A few months later, our two boys would join their sisters in salvation. We were all baptized a few months later. Our oldest son would join us a few years later.

Few Men Are Ever This Blessed

And the miracle continues. Our five children continued to attend church and each in turn would marry Christian spouses. They would give us over the next 22-years, twenty-two grandchildren and two great grandchildren. I watched my grandchildren grow up in church and each (except the very young, too young to know) have accepted Christ and been baptized. I am the only man I know who can say he has watched all his children and grandchildren (of a family this size) all be saved. All of them will join me in Heaven just as I was assured back on that September day in 1992. Hey! Who says I didn’t win my race? At least the one that counts. Like Job, I am a blessed man.

(Note to my Daughter-In-Law Brandy: Took me a while but I got around to writing this down as per your request)

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Clay County West Virginia Has at Least Two Famous Lost Gold Legends

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imageThere’s Gold in Them Thar’ Hills!

When I was twelve I wanted to be an archeologist so badly I read every lost treasure, lost civilization, and dinosaur book in the Hardin Northern School Library. And this was a time in the 60’s before Indiana Jones made archeology cool. Still I think treasure hunting is a big part of everyone’s dream things to do. So I was amazed to discover that the small and perhaps poorest of West Virginia’s counties has not one, but two lost gold stories.

Treasure of Summer’s Mountain

I have to thank my buddy Leo Gray for telling me this story. The old man is gone now, but in the late 1970’s he and I both worked for the WV-DOH. More often than not on opposite ends of the same road being worked on as flag men. He swore every word of this was true. And admitted he spent more time than most in the hunt for this treasure. He had easy access to it, as he was living at the time up White Pilgrim at Wallback. The story starts on Summer’s Mountain, largely visible from the Wallback exit of I-79. Next time, or every time, you head up to Morgantown for a blue and gold game and you get on the interstate at, or pass the Wallback exit, remember you are passing REAL gold. At least, according to Leo, you are.

A Mistrusting Midas

The mountain was named after the man who settled on it. According to Leo he came from England. An easy-to-anger and first to answer-with-a-fist kind of guy. He spent much of his time in England hiding out in the highlands as a wanted criminal. He immigrated to America the only way he could: “He had himself nailed into a hog crate with three or four other hogs. He came over with the livestock by schooner. His only food and water was what they slopped the hogs with.” Leo said, “He didn’t have a choice. He had to stay hid; he was a wanted criminal.” Once in America he wandered far into the interior to the remote wilds, far away from the prying eyes of men, claiming the mountain for his own. In fact in his dealings with men, he dealt only with REAL money, the silver and gold of early American currency. He accepted no paper money, nor copper or nickel coins. If it wasn’t silver or gold you went home without the purchase. Like Midas the only money he touched was gold. And he trusted banks like he trusted men. Fearing men’s hearts to be like his own, he did not dare keep it at the house where thieves could break in and steal it. Nope. He had a special hiding place on the mountain. Once or twice a month he would take his booty collected for the month and leave the house an hour before dark and head up the mountain. He came back after dark. When he died, the secret of its location went to the grave with him. He had a number of children. Why did they not know where his spot was? “He trusted his wife and kids like he trusted banks. None of them were ever allowed to go with him or know it’s location.” Leo insisted. That is not to say they didn’t search.

A Hundred Years or a Millennium

His children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren spent years digging up the mountain. Since then many others tried. The typical spots were checked: hollow trees, large rocks, creek banks, rock overhangs and more. Needless to say, the mountain today bears little resemblance to the mountain then. Trees from that time might actually be open areas, or creeks, dry or grass covered. The mountain has been searched by modern metal detectors. Perhaps the technology to recover this treasure has yet to be discovered many years from now.

Golden Fleece Or Fleeced?

Or maybe, you might say, the treasure is just a modern myth. The old man spent the money or gambled it away or somebody found it years ago and just never admitted it. That is possible. But in 1977, Leo Gray was thoroughly convinced the treasure was never found. On the conservative side, he believed there was four times the weight of a grown man in gold and silver coins buried over the course of sixty years. A find of that kind is impossible to hide from the world. People talk, especially when it might involve hundreds, maybe thousands of gold coins. Moreover, who could hide that kind of money in today’s market. Millions in bullion, perhaps billions in collectable value. I tend to agree. Someday, perhaps we will know. Probably not anytime soon.

imageThe South May Rise Again

The second gold story comes courtesy of Jerry Stover and his compiled oral history books, Hickory and Lady Slippers. This series, subtitled the Life and Legend of Clay County People is an oral history of Clay County documenting its history and genealogy of its residents. Complied by Jerry Stover and the Clay County Art Department. A special book in the series about ghosts, wives’ tales, superstitions and remedies, called Scared Stiff, I had the pleasure of illustrating back in 1977. I also did the pen and ink wash cover for the black and white publication. One of the stories I illustrated was a tale recounted by Henry Bird who says the tale was told to him by Jessie Sizemore about a lost Confederate payroll in gold coins.

The Treasure of Scott Legg Hollow

(The following is the story as it was printed in Scared Stiff and used by permission. This book and all of the others in the Hickory and Lady Slipper series can be ordered online. Go to: http://www.hiswv.com)

“A group of Confederate soldiers had encamped near the present site of Carnifax Ferry. After buying beefs from farmers of the community, they built fires and prepared the meat much in the manner of an open barbecue. Since it was late in the evening and no sign of the Yankees was apparent, security measures became lax. The jug was passed around and many of the men became more than partially intoxicated.

“Suddenly, firing broke out on the surprised camp. Due to the arms being stacked in rows during the rests, resistance was slow in forming. Darkness closed in, however, and stopped what was a riot. By morning the Rebels had regrouped and were planning a retreat. In the meantime the Yankees ate their meal. “Four-hundred men were scheduled to be sent to Clarksburg to reinforce the cause there, and Jessie Sizemore was chosen as a guide because he knew the territory of the march.

image“The men crossed the mountain into Twenty-Mile, crossed again into Big Sycamore, and then started down to the mouth of Big Sycamore. Pursuit was close upon them so they decided to stash the payroll they carried. Someone in Scott Legg Ridge said that the gold for two month’s pay for four hundred men was concealed by moving a large flat rock, digging a hole under the rock, and placing the rock in its original position. To anyone’s knowledge, this hoard of some $32,000 has never been found.

“This is the story exactly as it was related to me by Henry Bird. He said that Jesse Sizemore told him the story himself.” By Henry Bird

And the treasure stories continue

Jerry Stover told me only yesterday of an unpublished Clay County treasure story. “You have no idea what is buried out there,” he said. “There is gold and silver in the Clay County mountains. The Indians used to taunt the white settlers that, ‘if you knew what we know, you could shoe your horses with gold.’ He told me something I did not know. Between 1850 and 1920 the Savage Brothers mined silver at Strange Creek. He said they would send it by barge on the Elk River to Charleston. They would hide it as inserts in pig iron shells and stacked on the barge, hiding it to discourage piracy on their journey. One year, waiting on the Elk to rise, they sent the load down river at the same time as loggers sent trees down to the mill. The combination caused an accident and the barge sank into the Elk River “at Elkhurst near the rapids” (there are at least two there now, but who knows if there were others a hundred years ago). It was never recovered, still concealed in the rusted and perhaps crusted pig iron somewhere on the bottom of the Elk. Jerry did not know this till I told him, but my house and property at Elkhurst are on the site of the old sawmill. Great concrete blocks that once anchored great saws rise all over my property.

A Disclaimer, If Not an Outright Warning

Before you go out and buy a metal detector or take time off from work to go treasure hunting, remember this: more serious people than you have already attempted this treasure hunt. Leo spent a half a lifetime in his search. Your odds of finding any treasure are greater than winning the lottery. And your investment would be more than a $1 ticket. Let’s just leave these as the great entertaining stories they are, and leave the real work for the future adventure/investor who has more money and tech than they have sense. Perhaps a future version of Indiana Jones. Then, maybe, Clay County will have some real FOUND treasure stories to tell the world.

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The Need for a Good Christian RPG Adventure

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imageIn 2001 my youngest son, Christian, was away from home for almost a year. In his youth I had introduced him to the world of Dungeons and Dragons. A fan of every form of adventure gaming and a recent convert to Christianity he needed encouragement and I wanted a way to share time and something entertaining with him that would be more meaningful over the course of months he was away. I had been a dungeon master, a player, even a big play-by-mail gamer in the past, before the Internet and social media came along and that seemed the best way to go: a game, like days past, through the U.S. Mail at the leisure and pleasure of both me and my son. So I created a game, wrote a twenty-four page into, establishing the character, his powers and possessions. I sent it to him. Circumstances at the time, he had every intention of engaging,  but had to set it aside. Life changed, the game delayed, it now (prophetically, you’ll eventually see) collects dust in the dark. But here is the catch. It is not D&D. It is probably the first Christian game of its kind, set in the Dark Ages. I sent an introductory letter with the package and (for today anyway) this is the subject of today’s topic. It is a convincing argument for the need for a good Christian role-playing game. It was my way of introducing the adventure to my son, and what follows is that letter, verbatim:

The argument:

To My Son Christian:

You are about to embark on a great adventure. It’s not quite Dungeons and Dragons, nor is it Silverdawn. You may not need a map. Why not? Because you already know this world. You already live in it. Well, a millennium later, anyway.

You see this is the first millennium, sometime after 900 a.d. In England or Europe right in the middle of the Dark Ages. (We might pin down exactly where later).

But you see, I’ve wanted to do this too — for some time — embark on a great role-playing adventure. But as a Christian, having gone through a great revival in my life, I am bothered by the mixed messages sent by traditional D&D play. In them we pretend there are whole pantheons of gods who look down on mere mortals, or immortals, or monsters and rule their fate — sometimes with fickleness, sometimes with lust, sometimes with hate or sometimes with indifference. The D&D world is motivated by, and revolves around greed — that good old fashioned lust for power, or money, or sex. Sometimes for all of those things. And it is all accomplished with violence and theft, or the use of magic or arcane occult powers or pleadings.

You see, back in 1981 when I first started playing Silverdawn, I paid absolutely no heed to where it might lead. You see, if I hadn’t been using characters or a world of somebody else’s creating I could have compiled years of collected works as a novel and sold it. But it is best that I cannot. Since, I also gave no thought to the idea that someday my sons or daughters or grandchildren would eventually want to read it.

You see, some of it embarrasses me. Not the craft, or originality or the drama or story itself, but some of the content might make even a sailor blush. Filled with the lusty violence of all such material, it is also filled with a lot of sexual content — as a re-newed Christian I look back on that in shame. In fact, it serves as an object lesson that psalms and proverbs elucidates: the sins of the fathers can be passed down to the children — because the selfish and lustful acts of the father have lasting repercussions. Ask King David.

Whatever ingenuity, creativity, even perhaps Nebula or Saturn award-winning drama the story itself might have had at its base — the parts that shame me now — will always be a blemish on the completed work. What is truly missing in this genre is a role-playing game that can be aspired too. That’s when I created the first Christian role-playing game you hold in your hands.

Whatever misperceptions that might lead you to believe otherwise, it is not dull. As you will quickly see, it is filled with its share of drama, excitement and intensity. It is sometimes violent but never gratuitously. For you see, good drama, great stories are not dependent on foul language, or gore, or explicit sex, to be both inspiring and appealing to the masses.

In fact, if you look at the top ten movies of all time (four of which are done by Steven Spielberg) among them are E.T. The Extraterrestrial, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Indiana Jones, Back to the Future, Star Wars, The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind (to name only a few): all of these movies still outrank (and are most beloved) among all movies and share much in common. No four-letter word is uttered in them; no gore or gratuitous violence permeates them; no nudity is part of their images. Yet, they stand as the most popular movies in the world. Why? Because the story — the drama touches us in its excellence. As plot and drama thin — other directors add cheap thrills just to maintain interest. Cheap thrills will never make a story beloved.

Besides that, who said Christian stories, whether fiction or non-fiction have to be dull? Can you find a dull moment in these stories: Joan of Arc, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, The Search for the Holy Grail, Saint George Slays a Dragon, Saint Patrick drives the snakes out of Ireland, and even Saint Nicholas delivers food and more to the poor on Christmas. How awesome would it be for a great Christian epic to have elements from all of these and more?

There are more reasons I prefer to do this and I will list them by priority below:

(1) There is never enough great Christian fiction. Larry Burkett created a novel called “Illuminatae” Christian fiction that is a best seller. Five fiction novels so far in the Left Behind series (the story of the rapture and tribulation) are all on the NY best seller list. There is a hunger for Christian fiction.

(2) If I am going to write fiction again I want it to count for something. I don’t want to waste my time and not just playing silly games. I am genuinely honoring my son and my God with my time.

(3) The story becomes an outlet for real Christian dialogue and the practice of scripture upon real world situations. It also becomes another reason to read and study God’s Word, since it is the only “scrolls” in our world.

(4) We are leaving a legacy for our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. This game (or novel) could be something that we create for our own entertainment, and yet be something proud we can leave to our progeny.

(5) with God’s blessing it could someday bless the world as a novel, or movie or a popular Christian TV series.

(6) Because I love you. This becomes something we share. If you find it inspiring too — Your chapter begins where mine ends.

Your character (like Jacob) gets a name change in the middle of this introductory story. God did not abandon the world he created, this is true today, it was true in the Dark Ages. The young thief-turned priest discovers like Moses, like Samson, like Daniel, there is a lot of power through the divine intervention of God. (God teaches him a long lost secret, which endows him with a special power — which I will not say here but you will discover the secret as you read.) I think you’ll agree this secret will bring a D&D element to the story as we rival St. George, St. Patrick and more!

I am leaving this in your charge. If it proceeds it will be from your hands. Note I didn’t want to use Silverdawn so I titled our game Silverlining. I titled the story (or our first novel) after the character’s new name: “Sincere”

So my son, happy reading and happy adventuring.

Sincerely,
Your Loving Father
Gary Lee Stuber

(If there are those curious to read the short story intro that begins this game. I could be coaxed to text it all in from the original typewritten manuscript. But considering the labor, I’d really have to be sweet talked)

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The New Wolverine Role Could be the Ultimate Marvel Cinematic Movie Prize

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The Beginning of the End?

imageHugh Jackman has played Marvel’s Wolverine for eighteen years  since Logan came out in 2017. He appeared briefly in X-Men: Apocalypse in a story set in the early 70’s before he got his admantium skeleton or was officially part of the team. “Logan” was his last contracted movie with Fox Studios.

Old Men and Retirement

imageLogan was to be based on “Old Man Logan” which is in the future in a post-apocalyptic world (not created by Apocalypse, by the way) where superheroes are outlawed and super villains have divided up the country. At the end of the 6-part story Old Man Logan is coaxed out of retirement as a hero and picks up the Wolverine mantle again. To many other Marvel characters not licensed by Fox made this story impossible. That was Jackman’s last appearance as Wolverine. He says he is ready to move on.

Is he? Wolverine was his first Hollywood role and has been good for him. If he’s ready for “something else” what do you call the nearly two other movies per year since that he has been doing? He’s done everything from sci-fi, to drama, to romance, to Broadway musical turned movie. What “something else” is there to do in Hollywood? Direct? Produce? Retire? Maybe, like Logan, he will have a change of heart  Or . . .

A Bigger Plan

I think Hugh Jackman, and it is my hope that this is part of a plan to get something bigger, is a smarter man who has no intention of giving up his first truly great role. He expressed interest a few years ago about Wolverine taking on Iron Man. And for years in Hollywood this was impossible. Marvel Studios owned rights to Iron Man and the Avengers. 20th Century Fox Studios owned the right to Wolverine and the X-Men and NEVER the twain shall meet. Fox would never consent to giving up an ounce of its blockbuster making superhero, not even for a cameo in the Marvel films.

A Bigger Prize

imageSo, hell froze over. A shrewd Disney negotiator made an agreement with Fox and the world changed. Something once thought impossible, is now only years from materializing: X-Men and Avengers sharing the screen. A win-win for the studios, a win-win for fans, a win-win for Jackman who could indeed reprise that role. For OMG the unthinkable: the Canadian wilderness battle of the century against Wendego and the Incredible Hulk! A very shrewd negotiator could get this dream done.

All Is Not Lost

But let’s say, just for argument sake, it’s not the beginning of the world’s greatest bluff but that Jackman really does want to retire. Is Wolverine done too? Why? I know the PERFECT actor to take on the role of the berzerker Canadian.

Jackman
Jackman

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