Pink Coon

                                     Just a little something to fill in space.  Hope you enjoy.

 



Sunday Afternoon

Sunday afternoons were a special time at grandpa's.  After working hard in the fields all week, he would drag up the yellow metal lawn chairs to the pecan tree.  It sat in the front yard by the dirt road.  He would throw his feet up against the bark, lean back and talk to anyone who was around.  With his outgoing personality, people would gather under the tree to talk and listen.  Every once in a while there would be some 'shine brought to the discussion.  His fields were always the greenest in the area, for when the 'shine flowed the bull shit increased.  His property went downhill from the tree and the bull manure flowed to the edges of his property.  His little investment in the corn squeezing  paid off in the long run.

I painted the gathering around the tree from memory, however I just found this photo of my grandfather relaxing on Sunday afternoon.

The Queen

    Queen drew herself into a smaller ball.  The cold wind coming across the near-frozen lake went straight through her raged coat.  Chilled to the bone, she could not warm herself up.  The only relief was to get behind the wall of the diner to block the wind. As they stood there, they could see the man and his family getting ready to leave. The man and woman walked briskly out the door, bracing for the cold.  They paid little attention to Queen and her plight.  As he looked at Queen and Bob, he grunted and moved on.  The woman did not even look. As the two boys walked out one of them looked and smiled.  The other was in a hurry to get to the warm car.  Not one of them offered to help.
     When it rains, it pours and the owner came stomping out the door.  "Get out of here before I call t;he cops!" he screamed.  Queen looked back and could see him in the glow of the street light, slinking back into the diner.  "You two will run off all my customers." he muttered under his breath.  Bob took it all in stride as he ambled across the wet parking lot.  Queen wondered how he did it, as she despondently followed him.
     He walked up to the two men sitting by a drum, that had a hot roaring fire blazing out the top.  They had a sack lunch each and were eating a cold sandwich.  Bob looked at them with hunger in his eyes and begged for a small morsel.  One of the men split his sandwich in half and gave it to Bob.  His friend said, "Get your friend to come over and warm herself up."  As Queen shyly walked over, he handed her half of his sandwich.  It had been a long time since she had tasted food so fresh.  The warmth of the fire was a relief to her cold aching bones.  She sat down by the barrel and was warmed as much by the kindness of the two strangers as she was by the fire.  The men finished their meal and had to go back to work.  Queen and Bob sat alone by the fire as long as they could.  There was nothing left to burn and the warmth soon died away to coldness.  Bob and Queen decided to look for a warm place out of the wind.
  As the wandered off into the darkness, Queen had no idea where they were going.  She was young and naive with no one to guide her.  Bob was much older and had been around.  Queen had been on her own for a while when she met Bob.  She was going through a food dumpster when bob came out of the shadows and spoke to her.  He could see that she needed a helping hand.  She knew that he was going to be a good friend.  Even though he was older, he never tried to take advantage of her.  Always the perfect gentleman, he waited for her to make the first move.  And she did.  They lay in each other's company all night and until late the next day.  As the sun sank behind the horizon, hunger took over their passion.
     As they moved in search of food, two men came stumbling out of the local bar.  It was a run down dive in the wrong side of town.  Bob, feeling confident  after consummating his love for Queen ignored the danger.  He tried to panhandle a meal from the drunks.  Queen tried to stop him, but he would not be deterred.  She could see the danger as Bob approached the men with a smile on his face.  The short scruffy man with a scowl on his face, pulled a revolver from his back pocket.  He cursed like a sailor as he fired all six shots at Bob.  Drunk as he was, only one bullet struck Bob, and that was just a graze.  It startled Bob and he turned and ran out into the street.  He never felt a thing as the car slammed into him.  Queen screamed as he flew through the air.  When he landed in a tangled heap, she knew that it was over.
    All alone, frightened and scared she raced back into the safety of the alley.  It took weeks for the sight of Bob's death to loosen it's grip on her.  Now she was able to see that her body was changing.  Her breasts were fuller and her stomach was swelling.  It was not fat, for she was eating very little.  Now what was she to do?
     The days were beginning to warm up, so she moved farther and farther from that awful town.  The country side was friendly, with not so many people around.  At night she would scout around and look into garbage cans to find food.  As she lifted the lid on the can under the dim back porch light, she heard the door open.  It was too late to run and in her condition, it hurt too much anyway.
     "Are you hungry, my dear?"  asked Mrs. Johnson.
      "Come on up here into the light, so I can see you."  she kindly said.
     "My, aren't you a pretty thing and in a motherly way."
      "Come on in and let's feed you and clean you up."
     Queen was struck by the kind offer and followed Mrs. Johnson inside.  She put out a nice meal for Queen to enjoy.  Then she drew a bath for her to get rid of months grime.
     "What are you doing?'  the voice belonged to a sleepy Mr. Johnson.
     "Taking care of this poor lost girl." replied Mrs. Johnson.
     "Looks as if it is about time for her to give birth." he said.
      "Yes, probably before morning."
     "Good thing that you are a midwife." he said as he went back to bed.
     As he came back into the room at sun up, he could hear baby cries.
     "How many did she have?"  he asked.
     "Six, and look at that little male over there.  He is the spitting image of Bob."  she answered.
     "I know that you want to keep him, and we will have the Queen spayed as soon as she is able."  he says.
     "Thanks, dear."

Four Tens

I was playing around with a new idea with this small painting.  Don't know if I am pleased with the result, but had fun any way.  10 x 10 inch canvas painted with acrylic.

L A X AIRPORT AUTHORITY

Careful how you navigate in south Alabama, the authorities are watching you.

Jumping Buck

This old buck is in such a hurry to get to the doe, he almost tripped over the log, jumping at the last second.  This is a turkey tail feather that I painted with acrylic paint.  It is framed in a pine shadow box that I made, matted and covered with glass.

Shadow Voices

Through the dark veil
I can see, hear, smell,
where you are is bright
but to me is dim light,
happy cheerful voices speak
but to understand is bleak,
between me and where you are
there is a dark vapor bar,
I can almost see all of you
and that does make me blue,
even though your shape is dim
I ask to see you on a whim,
I know that soon I will
under the pecan tree fill,
the empty seat there
and at each of you stare,
I will soak in your face
in that bright place,
All that is left to do
now is just step through,
Now it is dark gloomy night
but come morrow it will be bright,
As I step over with a yell
knowing that I leave this hell,
to be born in heaven above
and live forever in his love.

Dodge Charger Special Edition

 

This is a front quarter view of a Dodge Charger Special Edition that I painted in 1975.  It is 44x31 inches and is painted with oil on canvas.

Elba United Methodis Church

This is one of a series of drawings, that I did for the city of Elba, Alabama. 

Abstract

This is a cedar log, that I cut with chisels and a lot of sandpaper.  15inches by 7inches.  I had no idea to begin with, but just followed the grain.

TRANSPORTED

     The sight of people in both lanes as he rounded the downhill curve was a driver's worst nightmare.  He unconsciously stiffened his body and gripped the wheel so tightly his hands hurt.  There was no way to stop the pickup in time.  He ran over the one laying on top of his wrecked Harley.  The others scrambled out of the way.  As the white Ford slid sideways to a stop, the blue tire smoke settled over the eerie scene.  Then the sound of the shrieking tires punched it's way into his hearing.  Why was he hearing that now?
     He had heard the grinding of the bike under his truck and the popping noise of bones being pulled from sockets.  He had heard all that plainly.  But not the sound of the tires.  At that one terrifying second, he realised it was not the tires at all.  It was the angry screams of the bikers.  They were rushing toward his truck.  Frightened beyond fear, he sped off as if his life depended on it.  And it did.
     The sudden impact had slammed the dog to the floorboard.  He jumped back into the seat and stuck his head out the window.  As the driver sped off, the dog was jerked back into the back glass.  The dog was pissed off and wondered why he was driving that way.  The  orange flash of gunfire made points of light in the dusk.  Bullets shattered glass behind him and the dog.  He could see them in the rear view mirror running to their bikes.  If he were going to escape, he needed more than the heavy F-150 pickup.  Knowing that he could not outrun them, he turned onto a dirt road.  There in the distance was a field road.  He knew the pickup could handle it.  The heavy Harleys would have a hard time with the ruts, holes and sand beds.
     This little road of salvation suddenly ended at a locked gate.  It was to heavy to break through.  He slid to a stop just inches away from the massive iron structure.  He jumped out and clambered over the gate to the other side.  The dog was not running.  He could handle the whole bunch.  Being a dog he did not understand guns.  He called the dog desperately.  The dog reluctantly ran to him.  As they climbed over the gate, the bikers came around the bend.  With guns blazing and bullets flying, he and the dog ran off.  The bikers stopped at the gate and just milled around.  Thankful that they were not being followed, anymore they slowed to a walk.  It did not take to long before they came to a paved highway.  It was not dusk anymore .  It was bright as the noon day sun.  He could see for miles and there was not a lot of traffic on the highway.
     The road turned to the east and they began to walk toward the light.  The bikers were a thing of the past and the memory of them began to fade.  A maroon Ford F-150 with a crew cab pulled up beside them and stopped.  As the window came down the driver asked, "need a lift?" 
     "Yeah, thanks," he replied.
     "Put the dog in the back and climb in." the driver said.
     He knew the driver but could not place him.  The dog acted as if he knew the driver also.  Bewildered, he did as he was told.  The driver handled the Ford as if it were an extension of his body.  Speeding around hairpin curves, the truck gliding as if on air.  The driver brought it to a stop smoothly, after a hard brake. The driver could do things with a vehicle that was not supposed to be done. 
As we drove around the town his driving skills brought back vague memories.  However they were disturbing.  He knew a man once that could drive like this.  That scared him.  He began to study the driver.  His observation gave him a headache.  The dark hair, small stature, confidence and that smile.  His heart stopped for a moment.
     "Do I know you?" he asked.
     "Yeah, and you know me well, don"t you?"  the driver answered.
    "Yes," he answered, "but that is not possible!"
     "Why?"  the driver said with that tell-tale smile.
     "Because,  I was at your funeral over a year ago."  he said with a tremble in his voice.
     "Has it been that long?"  "I can't tell time here, all I do is drive."
     "Did it hurt when your car hit that tree?" he asked.
     The driver answered, "Never felt a thing.  I just changed from that Ford Cobra to this Ford pickup.  I need it to pick all these people that are walking down this road."
     "Why me and the dog?", he asked.  "How is it that we are here?"
     "You asked me about the pain.  What about you?  Did you feel any pain?"  the driver asked.
     "No, I have never felt better.  Why?" 
     Without answering, the driver turned around and headed back west.  The driver turned off the highway onto the field road.  He had a sinking feeling.  The dread swept over him like a flash flood.  As the driver stopped without hitting the gate, he could see what the bikers were doing.  They were gathered around a man's body and that of his dog.
     "Ready to go?"  the driver asked.
     "Yeah, I guess I am." he answered.

Little Itch

This poor bear has a spot that can only be reached by the rough bark of a tree.  Thank goodness for living in a forest full of scratching posts.
I carved this out of cedar.  It is 12 inches tall, four inches wide and 3 inches thick.

Twenty to Life

     Dick was overcome with gloom as the sun dipped below the prison wall.  The light reflecting off the razor wire was brilliant.  This was the closest thing to a sunset that he had seen in years.  Even though the sun had disappeared, it was not dark.  Daylight would hang around for another forty five minutes.  That old stone wall was so high it blocked the sun in the prison yard.  Unlike the outside, it would get dark  inside the yard twice.
     In here nothing changes.  Everyday at this time Dick would get melancholy and wonder why he was here.  Was it because he was mean as a stepped on snake.  Was it because he had hurt people?  Or was it because his parents had named him Dick?  Not willing to place the blame on himself, he always chose to blame his parents.  The real reason was one that even Dick did not fully understand.  He was, as his name suggested, a virile man.  An alpha male, he was comfortable with and loved women.  He was always able to conquer and dominate them.  However as his late teen years came, he began to realise that he was queer.  This realization upset and bewildered him.  He became more aggressive toward women.  That did not help his situation.  The queer feelings intensified.  He fought a losing battle.  He could not let the public know the truth.  It was 1979 after all.  But what could he do?  He knew that if he went into the prison system, there would be men, captive men.
     As we all know, young people do not ever make good decisions.  Now that he was thirty-five, Dick was unhappy with his choices.  The prison walls, darkness, isolation and fear every night was so unbearable, it proved that he had made bad choices.  After  entering the prison system, Dick realised that he was no longer the alpha male.  In fact he was low on the pecking order(no pun intended).  In the dark he was thankful for the safety of the bars.
     He was locked in a building with men that were not nice.  At the top of the heap was Frank.  A large mountain of a man with no compassion and no soul.  When he put his white eyes on you, your heart would almost stop.  Frank was in for murder.  Because the death penalty had been put aside, he was in for life and had nothing to lose.  Several of the guards had been injured by him.  It was a rite of passage for the new guards to challenge him.  If they didn't, it was seen as a sign of weakness.  Evil minded Frank sometimes inflicted serious bodily harm.
     Of all the men in the prison, this was the one that Dick feared the most.  Dick knew that Frank could smell the fear.  It was oozing from his body.  Dick had become lax in his attention and got too close to the bars.  As Frank reached out to the bars, Dick moved backwards quickly.  Too quickly.  It irritated him for his fear to control him.  No one else knew, but Frank.  "One day these bars won't be here," Frank said "and you know what I will do then."  Dick could not let anyone else see his distress.  To cover for this, he said in a loud voice,"I look forward to it!"  Frank just laughed.  That infuriated Dick even more.  However he knew when to be quiet.
     After observing Frank for years, Dick knew that he was a cunning and calculating killer.  He did not get away with twenty-three murders by being stupid.  He was not the retarded killer everyone imagined.  Frank had planned each death down to the last detail.  He did not target women.  It was men, and tough men at that.  None of the men were sexually assaulted, it was not like that.  It was the thrill of the conquest and victory over a worthy opponent.  If he could destroy a man equal to himself, that was the thrill that he needed.  His last intended victim was different.  The Alabama task force had suspected him for a while.  They used a police Sergeant for bait.  Knowing that Frank sucker punched his victims just below the sternum, in the diaphragm,  was just the edge the Sergeant needed.  He placed a metal plate there under his shirt.
     The momentary surprise was all the sarge needed.  When Frank hesitated for just a spilt second it was over.  The sarge broke Frank's jaw with a right cross.  As Frank stumbled back, his kneecap was broken by a downward side kick.  When the cop put his foot down, he spun around and caught Frank with a spinning back fist on his temple.  When he awoke he was in a lot of pain and handcuffs.  No one had pity on him, least of all the sergeant.  He had spent years with the Yoshukai Karate organization and even had a couple of classes with the founder, Master Yamamoto.
     Dick moved away into the darkness.  Why had he taken this route?  To get to the captive men?  He had not been in here long before he realised he was not attracted to men at all.  What was he to do?  At his age he knew that it would be hard to get out.
     Then there was Jimmy...

Wash Day

The days of washing clothes this way is long gone.  Even though this is in Haiti, I can still remember my grandmother doing the clothes by hand.  She would start a fire under a large black pot, get the water hot and wring the clothes out by hand.  times have changed  This is an 24x18 inch oil painting that I did on canvas.

New Tahoe

The new car for the city of Ashford's fire department is a new Tahoe.  We lettered it with gold backed up with black and a red reflective stripe.

Dawson Depot

sixteen feet by eight feet mural painted for Dawson Downtown beautification Board.



East L A

Here in East L A(Lower Alabama),
as they drink not from their mama,
the gators relax in the shade
against the trees
with their backs
and without saying please
the man slaps a tax
on everything
perhaps the man
from the tree should swing
as the gator drinks from the can

Cows, Cowboys and Cops

     Even at the best of times, the teen age years are a disaster.  Such was the case of Natalie.  When she turned fifteen, she lost her mind.  The crowd that she started running with were all operating without a brain also.  Her attitude went from bad to extremely bad.  This put a lot of stress on Sheila and I for we could do nothing with her.To her a curfew was a joke, something not to be concerned with.  After spending many sleepless nights waiting on the front porch we were despondent. I guess we soon got used to her behavior and would go to bed a little earlier.
     The summers in south Alabama are notorious for being hot and humid.  Sometimes the air gets so thick that it is a struggle just to breathe in a little air.  The humidity is so thick that sweat just sits on  your skin.  The only way to get it off is to wipe with a towel and the exertion of wiping, just makes you sweat more.  Occasionally the nights are cool with a soft breeze blowing.  After the heat of the day, this is a refreshing change.  This July night was just such a one.  It was late when we went up stairs and cool enough that we raised the windows to let the night air in.  The gentle breeze was blowing just enough to move the curtains ever so slightly.
     We were so tired and the night air was so comfortable, that we drifted off into a deep sleep.  Around two o'clock in the morning I heard a strange noise outside.  It had to be different to wake me up.  "Moo ma, moo ma, moo ma".  I could hear it in the front of the house, then on the back.  There were no windows on the side of the house, so all that I could hear there was a muffled noise.  As I slowly awakened, I could tell that it was the same noise, just moving around the house, and pretty fast at that.  I was tired and in a deep sleep, so I thought that I was dreaming.  Sheila finally awakened and yelled "What?"  She thought that Natalie had come home drunk and could not get in.  She assumed that it was her yelling moo ma, moo ma.  She rushed over to the window and looked down.  What she saw in the bright moonlit night angered her.  "What are you doing?" she demanded. 
      "Trying to catch our cows." the young man answered.
     Then the whole picture came in.  Up on the road, the cops had their cars parked, lights flashing and directing traffic.  There were three cows running around the house with the young calf close behind, bellowing "moo ma."  Behind the calf were two men trying to catch the four bovines.  By the time I got my pants on and got downstairs, the activity had moved to the barn.  My neighbor had gotten a rope on one of the cows.  As he and the cows rested, he wrapped the rope around his wrist.  Just as everyone was settling down, the horsed, who had been watching from the shadows, came up to the fence by the barn. 
     One of them snorted or broke wind and the loud noise busted the peace.  I could see by the eerily green glow of the mercury vapor light on the barn.  Two men, four cows and four horses all fighting for relief.  All of this seeped into my mind as I watched the man tied to the cow.  She bolted and he was a limp rag doll, pulled through several small trees.  How he kept his hand from being pulled off was a mystery.  When the cow stopped, he sheepishly pulled himself up off the ground.  Using a small sapling as a pull up point, he was careful not to spook the cow again.  There was blood and torn skin on every exposed part of his body.  His clothes were torn loose and only the belt kept his pants up.  He smiled an embarrassed smile and one of his teeth was dangling.  I am sure he would have cried if no one else was around.
     We helped him herd his cows home just as dawn was breaking.  In the early light, I could see that the cows were in need of food.  They must have smelled the hay stored in my barn and in desperation, they tried to get to it.  The neighbor offered everyone a cup of coffee, but I as well as the others declined.  We had to go and get some sleep.
     As I walked from the road to the driveway, I could see the barn in the soft morning light.  Natalie was standing there talking to bob.  I waved to her to come on over to where I was.  As she walked up, I asked, "Where were you last night?"
     "I went to the barn to see the horses, when I came home last night."  she replied.
     "Almost as soon as I got there, I saw the police cars."
      "Then the cows running around the house.", she continued.
     "Do you think the man is hurt bad?" Natalie asked.
     Relieved at knowing where she was, I answered "Probably not!"
     "Come on in and let's eat breakfast." 

Cedar Hawg

This little hog is a swine carved out of cedar.  The size is 12x4x3".  The knot worked out well for the snout.

Major and the Black Princess

    Some days just have magical powers.  Today was just such a day.  As I awakened from a restful sleep, I just lay there in bed.  The memories swept across my mind as if they were clover in mist covered meadow with the soft blowing wind sweeping over them.  As the wind blew, the clover danced in wondrous rhythm with one another.  Swaying gently front to back and side to side.  So it was with my mind.  The memories came and went, dancing softly on my conscious, some good a few bad.
     The one that stuck was a good one.  At least it ended up that way.  In 1993, we moved into our house that we had just built, sitting on fourteen acres.  We moved in on May 5, just a few weeks after my stud colt, E-Bob-A-Ho was born.  He was a typical stud colt, into everything.  At that time I had four horses, including Bob, and feeding them was a challenge.  My plan was to buy and sell horses to pay for their feed.  As you can guess, that did not work out very well.  I would buy high and sell low.  It was cheaper for me to feed the horses, than for me to sell them.  It was like silk screening T-shirts, each transaction cost me money.
     Our land was covered by woods, except for the strip under the power lines.  That strip was fifty feet by 800 feet.  That was not enough grass for four horses and I had to keep them supplied with hay at all times.  After we had been there for a year or so, the two spinster sisters that owned the six acre pasture next door, approached me about renting it.  At the time the price was reasonable and we agreed.
     The horses thought that they were in heaven.With grass up to their knees, eating was now a chore.  You would think that they would mow everything down evenly across the pasture.  Well no, they didn't.
The pasture soon looked as if a drunk was driving the mower.  The grass would be a foot tall in one area and dirt next to that.  I spent a lot of time on the tractor, bushogging.
     Major was seven years old when I bought him.  He had won several blue ribbons for speed racking.  A big bay horse, he was a gentle giant, but stubborn as a mule.  His master had died and the black man that bought him almost starved him to death.  When I purchased him, he was skin and bones, probably four hundred pounds underweight.  It took Sheila and I almost a year to fatten him up.  During this time we discovered that he had a comical personality, or maybe he was just a doofus.     
    Honey Babe was ten at the time and sweet as sugar.  Not to Major though.  She would give him a wide berth and stick her tongue out at him when he was not looking.  She worshipped Princess, the bitch of the bunch, and Bob's mother.  She, like the others, was a racking horse.  However her gait was so rough, that at the end of the ride, her rider was sore.  she was well mannered and obeyed every command.
     Princess was a solid black, beautiful mare that should have been named Queen.  She manipulated and controlled the herd, except for Major.  He was not going to let a girl tell him what to do.  When she wanted to move from one spot in the pasture to the other, she would just wander off in that direction. All the other horses would follow, except for Major.  Not only was Princess a bitch, she was the smartest horse I had ever seen.  Leaving Major behind would in her mind, undermine her authority.  Shes developed a new strategy.  To move to a new spot, she would shriek and bolt off as if something had burst out of the woods and was attacking her.  That startled everyone, including Major, into following her.  As soon as she reached her destination, she would stop and graze as nothing had happened.
     I came in from work that hot summer day and went to the barn to feed up.  All the horses were there in the barn yard except for Major.  That was unusual, for he like the others, knew that feeding time was always at the same time each day.  As you probably know by now I talk to the horses and most times they talk back.  Princess was nervously pacing around the paddock.  I did my whistle and rang the dinner bell for Major to come eat.  Finally I asked Princess, "Where is Major?"  She seemed relieved to know that I finally figured out that knew where he was.  She turned and slowly walked to the woods on the side of the barn.  I don't know how to stress this, nothing had ever gotten her to leave before a meal, so I knew that it was serious.  We had gone a couple hundred yards when I caught sight of him.  He was in a thicket of thorns and tangled up helplessly in bullis vines.  I could tell that he had been there a while.  "Be right back, boy." I told him and walked back to the barn.
     When I returned with the wire cutters and made my way to him, I could tell that he was agitated.  However, he remained still and calm while I cut away the briars and vines.  To make matters worse, deer flies were swarming all around and eating us up.  He would stomp his feet and swish his tail, but never in my direction.  Princess, Bob and Honey Babe were standing at the edge of the woods watching us.  As I cut the last vine and slapped him on his butt, he took off.  As he tore out the woods, he went around the other horses to get to Princess.  I don't speak horse very well, but I understood very well what he said to her.  After he kicked her a couple of times, he said."Don't you ever scare us again, bitch!"  And she didn't.

Lone Oak

This lonely old oak tree has seen some  good years  I carved it out of HDU just to see how the material worked.  I have used it for several years to sandblast signs with, but I have never used a chisel on it before.  I thought that it worked well and I kinda like the old tree.



Hamer Construction

This was an enjoyable project at C and S Signs.  The artwork was clean and the sides of the truck was relatively rivet free.  The hammer can be seen from a great distance.  The construction co is located in Ashford, Alabama and does excellent work.  I was glad to get the job of lettering it.



Master's Men

This has been a good week at C & S Signs.  Along with several great projects, this 24' trailer turned out exceptionally well.  Even with the rivits on the side and back, Sheila and I were able to get the letters to be crisp and clean.  Master's Men is a group of First Free Will Baptist men that come together in times of natural disasters to help their fellow man.  Their slogan, "Christianity with sleeves rolled up.", is a very lofty ideal.  More power to them.

Bird and Grapes

I carved this bird and grapes out of a cedar log that a storm knocked down.  I have used this log that was growing on my place for several other carvings.  The size of this is 3"x13"x3".

New Website

I recently started a new website candssigns.com and would like for everyone to take a look at some of the work that we perform.  Thanks

John Frank

     Just after midnight, the long low moan of the freight train could be heard.  Even though the moon governed the night with her bright light, the monster was still to far in the distance to be seen.  As the air horn blared, the mountains and distance softened the dreadful noise,  John Frank knew that he had ten or fifteen minutes before the tracks brought him his doom,  Knowing that he was in dire straits, he still did not feel any regrets for any of the terrible things he had done.  His one regret was that he had been caught and sentenced to hard time.
     Even at that, he was lucky.  Being sentenced for manufacture of meth, was a blessing, when he knew that he had committed murders, rapes and robberies.  Had he not crashed, after being high on meth for days, the police would never have caught him.  John Frank had always been a lucky criminal.  On his way to prison, his luck was still holding.  He was locked in the back with Larry, Chris and Matt.  In his mind, John had already renamed them Larry, Curly and Moe.  There was no guard, just the driver.
     Due to the county always begging for money and always being broke, safety had to take a back seat.  The tires of the van needed to be replaced months ago.  But no, because the idiots running the county needed to spend the money on whores, whiskey and breast implants for their girlfriends, then just wasting the rest, there was nothing left for the tires.  Just as they rounded the curve, the left front tire blew out.  The van swerved and flipped, landing on it's side.  The driver was unconscious, but John and the three stooges were not hurt.  The rear door was ripped off the hinges and the men scrambled out.  John tried to go it alone, but Larry, Chris and Matt followed him.  John just shrugged his shoulders and pressed on up the side of the mountain, in the light of the moon.  Going up the mountainside was not a hard task for someone trying to gain as much distance as he could from the authorities.  The four men knew that they would be on the hunt soon enough.  Almost at the top was a small village.  Just a loose scattered out group of homes, really.  A small store stood out from the darkness, illuminated by the moon and a flicking street lamp.  As John's luck would have it, there was an old abandoned two story building less than fifty yards away.
     As tired as they were, this would be an ideal spot to rest up and plan their next move.  With no one around, they made their way inside.  Whoever abandoned this place did not take away all of the old furniture, or else some kids or hobos had taken it over.  A couple of broken down, weathered recliners, some straight chairs and a rickety old table, teetering on three legs, was more than enough for the four stooges to find rest.  Larry, Curly and Moe were arguing and bitching about how tired they were.  John, in his cold calculating mind, was considering just killing them and ending his misery.
     There was the long low whistle again, getting every one's attention and possibly saving the three stooges lives.  A feeling of dread came over John, in a cold almost stifling wave.  He walked to the naked window and looked down.  To his horror, he could see the tracks of the train just below, disappearing under the roof of the first floor, just below him.  John, had never felt fear before as he had this night. It swept over him as a cold wave , almost drowning him.  He looked out into the night and saw the lights of the town below.  They were a thousand diamonds spread out upon a black velvet cloth, reflecting with bright twinkling lights,  At the bottom of the mountain, the train was just beginning it's ascent.  The tracks disappeared around the mountain, but John knew where the destination was.  He was trapped in this place like a fox in a cage.  He began to look around for an escape.  All that was available was some emergency track, stacked in cardboard boxes, labeled "emergency track."  John ripped the containers apart and frantically began to read the directions.  The monster was louder now and ever closer.  Trying to get the three stooges to help with the track was like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end.
    Either Larry, Chris and Matt had found a way to get high, or they were just dumb as bricks.  They would hold up the four foot length of track, which looked a lot like a two inch conduit and the joint connector, and laugh hysterically.  Did they not know of the impending doom?  John finally got Larry to hold a section while he joined it together with another piece.  The freaking lock nuts would not screw on and when they did John did not have a wrench to tighten them.
     The blast of the horn was so loud that John fell to the ground.  The three idiots finally quit giggling.  When John got his shit back into one pile, he walked to the window and looked down.  The train was closer than he realized.  He watched in horror as it slipped past the trees.  He could see the box cars with the rusted sides.  It looked like a long snake slithering through the night.  As it wandered up the track,John knew that the next pass would take it through the building.  Hurriedly, John set about getting the track assembled.  As he finished the task, he realized the main track was on the bottom floor.  If he could only get the emergency track hooked to the main track, the monster would pass harmlessly through the building.  Frustrated, he began to try and get the track onto the landing and down the stairway.  No surprise, it would not fit. The building began to vibrate, then more violently, the low rumble became louder, almost deafening.  The horn pierced the cool damp night air.  It was no use, he just did not have enough time.
     The noise was unbearable, the shaking of the world around him, the bright light penetrated his soul the fear poured out of him as great drops of sweat.  He braced himself for the shock of the collision.  The impact never came, but the turmoil continued under his feet.  flight overtook John and he rushed over to the window and jumped.  There in the bright moonlight were dozens of people, each facing away from the train, none of them concerned and all seemingly amused at the fear that had possessed  John.  The three stooges were bent over and falling on the ground, laughing at John's expense.  "What the hell is so funny, you dumb asses?' John asked.  When Larry caught his breath he replied, "You thought that we were dumb asses, John, but we knew all along that we were in an abandoned depot.  We knew that the train would pass by harmlessly.  If you were so afraid, all you had to do was walk down and out the back door."  John claimed another victim that night, but it was not Larry as you might suppose.  It was his confidence and self assuredness.   

Summerford Mural

This is the beginning of a mural in the city of Ashford, Alabama.  The trucking co. began in the late forties or early fifties.  Their main service was hauling penuts and cotton to the market.  I began this mural in 1995 and finished it in about a week..  I will post color photos soon.

Cherry Indian

This little Indian is trying to figure out why he can't run and jump onto his pony anymore.  The fat stomach and chopped off hand do not register in his mind as two possible causes.  After all, two years ago he had no problem.  12 inches tall, 2 inches wide and 1 1/2 inches thick.

Dark Street

View of Dawson, Georgia circa 1903 looking east toward the courthouse clock tower.  The sun is rising above the horizon and people are already on the sidewalks.  The size is 8 feet by 16 feet and is painted with acrylic onto mdo plywood.



Stick Man

Little stick man that I did using aged Cherry wood.

The photos are a little blurry and for that I am sorry.

Two Churches

In Dawson, Georgia, there are two black churches, one Baptist and one Methodist.  I don't know exactly which churdh these women and kids were coming from, but this is a mural that I painted for the Downtown Beautification Board.  It is 8 feet x 16 feet.



Daddy Frank

Daddy Frank was born in 1903 and raised in Midland City, Alabama.  He and Maw had seven children to survive to adults.  They were all girls except for my father.  Daddy Frank was a strong man with an even stronger personality.  If ever he caught you doing something he thought you shouldn't he would put those eyes on you and the fear would freeze you up.  I never knew of him physically disciplining anyone, but we all had respect for him.  Arthritis ate him up later in life, but as a young man, he was a force to be reckoned with.  One night after a few drinks, he and Maw were walking home on the dirt road.  The power company had made him mad someway.  Each power pole that he passed, he would bow up against it and push it over.  The next day, the power company employees were busy putting the poles back into the ground.

Wood Carvers

This is my dog Starbuck, (I am his human) carving a log and the final result.  He had watched me carve wooden Indians for so long that he had to try it.  Pretty good for a beginner, huh?

Coon

Just relaxing in the sun.  This is a cedar carving of a coon, that I just completed.

Gate

I used to play on this gate.  It was across the dirt road in front on grandpa's house.  This is the one that the red headed rooster was sitting on when he tattooed my bare chest.

The End of Hell part 6

     Now that the darkness of hell has been turned to the light of day, I can see and understand.  I built that personal hell.  The darkness was my trying to do everything on my own, and I shut the light of God out.  I really needed help with all my problems, but no, I can do it all by myself.  I can fix this, was my attitude.
     God was an important part of my life, but more for the afterlife.  I did not want to include Him.  I would pray for his help, but did not have the faith required to bring the prayers to fruition.  The chains were there to protect me.  The frigid cleansing floods did not know me from a piece of crap.  The chains kept me connected to the rock of my salvation, and I was not swept away with the rest of the crap in my life.  There was a lot of things happening that kept me in the pit of darkness.  After several decades, my business was on the brink of collapse.  I could have weathered that.  My children turned their backs on us.  That was exceptionally hard and the more that I tried to fix it, the worse it became.  My father died in the middle of all this.  My wife and I had to deal with this alone.  My niece Sandie, was a big help during this time.  But with all this crap, I was never able to grieve as I should.
     That old demon, suicide, had pushed me to the edge several times, but the chains connecting me to the rock of my salvation were just short enough to keep me from jumping over the precipice.  I used to wonder how someone could take their own life.  Now that I have been to the edge and back and seen the misery and heartache, I have a better understanding and sympathy.  When I turned and knocked him out, it was the Strength of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ that flattened him.  At that point I was ready for some help and that was the key.  He works when we give up. 
     The vision of seeing my grandchildren was real.  It came about during the Christmas break.  We were able to spend some time with them.  The youngest one spent the day and night and next day with us.  What a glorious time to be alive.  God does not work on His own time as I believed.  This thing called "free will" is just that.  Four years was really a short time to bring four different people together.  Some times a life time is not long enough.  Thank God, that in this case it did not take that long.  Again, I say, What a glorious time to be alive.

The End of Hell part 5

     It was unusually busy today.  Try as I might, there was no sleep to use as an escape.  I could hear long wailing screams, starting off in the far distance, getting louder and closer.  The scream finally touched my ears, hesitated for a moment, raced through my ear drum and exploded into my brain.  The pain is intense, red hot and unbearable.  Just as I think I will lose consciousness, the sharp pain in my foot revived me.  I had been so focused on the scream, that I did not hear the click-clack of sharp pointed feet on the hard rock floor, sneaking up on me.  In a split second the beast stomped on my soft foot with his hard, sharp, pointed heel.  It nailed me to the hard slick rock.
     I had begun to relive some happier times, but hell would have none of that.  There was no escape today.  I tried to move my foot away from the pain, but it was no use.  The pain almost made me pass out.  The more I struggled, the more intense it became.  As I settled down, the sharpness subsided, leaving me with just a dull ache.  I guess the beast grew tired, for I could hear and feel him stir.  He removed his heel from my foot and hurriedly scurried off.  I should be relieved, but I am not.  He was just getting out of the way of a more formidable entity.
     This one I could see, for he had an eerie orange aura around him, and his eyes were glowing with a neon green light.  With the light he was giving off I could see my surroundings.  It was a death pit, with the bones of lost souls, reflecting the orange and green light.  It sent chills through my body.  He did not know that I had spotted him.  As he was sneaking up on me, the putrid smell of death, was making it difficult to act nonchalant.  Nausea and fear swept over me as he came closer.  As he touched me, I swung around with the chain wrapped around my hand.  The weight of the chain and the energy of my spin, caught him off guard.  I connected with him on the lower left jaw.  All the energy continued on it's upward motion to his brain and knocked his ass out.  I knew that I was in deep dookey when he woke up.  I needed help.
     For years I had prayed continuously for help in this situation.  I always thought that He would answer, but I was impatient.  I guess that I was finally ready for help and this time He decided to answer me.  "You have wallowed in self-pity for four years now.  You have tried to fix this problem by yourself and that showed a lack of faith.  Charles, you have done all that you can, now I will take care of it."  At that time, He allowed  me to hear those wonderful words "Grandpa".  For four years, I had not heard those words or seen those children.  In a vision from Him, I saw that we were back together again.  All this worry, self-pity and depression gained not a thing.  Just a colossal waste of time.  With these words and revelation, the chains were loosed, the darkness replaced by light and the walls disappeared.  At that moment hell dissolved and with His help will not return again.