Category: Uncategorized

‘Flying On The Ground Is Wrong…’

National Air Force Museum at Wright-Patterson – Dayton, Ohio
August 8th 2016

Persevering in the face of adversity.

18.6 is the number of years it takes for the Moon to complete a full cycle of its complicated phases. Who knows stuff like that? The Ancient people who built The Great Serpent Mound knew it thousands of years ago. This serpent-shaped mound in Southern Ohio mirrors the constellation Draco between the Big Dipper and Little Dipper. Its snaky curves mark a myriad of important alignments of the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars. But why did they build it? The Cherokee say Serpent Mound was the Divine Center of all the nations and it contains a secret message about overcoming a time of great stress for humanity in the distant past. Serpent Mound is an anthem as well as a calculator.

Walking Among the Stars

As a young boy I stood under starry nights in the Allegheny Forest and listened to my father tell tales about constellations. Try as I might, I could make out only a couple of those wondrous gods and heroes and beasts. Yet, if hadn’t been for my father’s gentle patient re-telling, I may never have developed a lifelong interest in the history behind the myths to say nothing of the Universe beyond.

It’s baffling (and humbling) to discover how far the Ancients exceeded our knowledge of the cosmos. And while we struggled to walk a couple people on the Moon, they built The Great Serpent Mound so all their people might walk among the stars.

At The Great Serpent Mound, Southern Ohio – August 7th 2016

Still Sweet After All These Years

45 years. Class of ’71. Some went away, some came back, and some never left. If we had to choose the one thing all us guys had in common, it would be fishin.’ Sure, we played all the sports and there are plenty of glories there. But the topic always comes back ’round to fishin’ and the conversation gets a little quieter and reverent.

I’ll never forget fishin’ the ponds along the the Ohio River most every day with my friend Leslie (R.I.P.). When we heard the train coming, we dropped our poles, ran up to the tracks, positioned a couple pennies or nickels on the rails then ran back down to hide in the brush. It was a ritual inside of an adventure and we never tired of it. Most of us are still fishin’ today but none of us are placing money on the railroads.

As for the girls, I don’t know what they’d say they all had in common but I know one thing for sure – the years 1967-1971 in Greenup County, Kentucky along the banks and hills of the Ohio River was a slice of heaven that dissolved like tears in the rain over the years for those of us that left. It was so fine to be back.

McKell Class of ’71 Reunion in Greenup, Kentucky and Greenbo Lake, August 6th & 7th 2016