I grew up in the country in a family neighborhood that included seven families. My grandparents lived next door to my parents, and all of the other families in the neighborhood were made up of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. One of the uncles was my dad’s brother, Bill Williams. His house was located next to a wooded area where he would sometimes hunt for rabbits and quail. Uncle Bill loved hunting so much, he set up a little “gun shop” in his basement where he could re-fill his own shotgun shells.
In the early summer of 1967 (when I was 10 years old), while holding onto the end of an old rubber garden hose, I climbed up the Weeping Willow Tree in the back yard of my parents’ home. When I got about 20 feet up, I climbed out onto a thick branch and tied the end of the hose to the branch. Since my intention was to use the hose to swing around like Tarzan, I made sure it was securely fastened to the tree limb.
Last week, on Christmas Eve morning, David Myers, the 21 year old son of one of our weekly adorers, Ceil Myers, died as a result of an auto accident. David was home from college for the holidays. He was due to graduate from college this coming semester, and scheduled to begin medical school in the fall.