From cford@sysnet.net Sun May 24 15:18:28 1998
Date: Fri, 22 May 1998 07:48:16 -0700
From: Charlie Ford <cford@sysnet.net>
To: vintagebus@type2.com
Subject: Leaving Kentucky

When I left Steve Dolaną three weeks ago I was apprehensive yet anxious to
change my surroundings.  DC was getting the best of me and I felt like it
was true blasphemy to be feeling so łinside myself˛ after my marvelous
journey.  Traveling has become something of a habit with me these days.

I remember driving the Mothership through the mountains of West Virginia
wondering what opportunity might or might not lay ahead.  Three weeks later
I am no closer to settling down than I was then, yet I now have enough
money to continue to move to the next point to see what it brings.
Hopefully more work, temp or permanant.

Franklin, Kentucky is a nice little town.  It is the birthplace of Jim
Bowie, dead at the Alamo but not before he made his famous knife.  I saw
one of these blades while in Franklin and to be honest, it was much bigger
than I had always perceived it to be.  It looks more like a machete than a
sheath knife.

The AmeriCorps program I was doing some contract work for is called
Slice/KYREADS.  It is a part of the America READS initiative and is doing
one hell of a job.  Mike Houston the Renaissance creative Director brings
such a high amount of energy to the program that there is almost no way it
could fail.  Donąt you just love it when you see passion injected into a
government funded program.

I was there to assess some of the curriculum and review the structure of
the training modules he uses to deliver this łliteracy training method˛
around the country.  Mike and I are colleagues from a few years back and
this time I was playing his łcontracted scrutinizer˛, which I am pretty
good at I think, and apparently he does to.

Another reason I was there was for him to review whether or not he and I
could work together over the long haul.  We both knew that was the question
prior to me ever going there, although it was not something we openly
discussed.  In the end each of us decided that if we were doomed to each
others creative personalities for a great length of time that we would
probably end up out behind the Dairy Queen one night dooking it out with a
viscous vengeance.  Of course all of this would be done with the
understanding that we would always remain friends, just like most good
southern fights do.

No, Mike was very satisfied with my work, my questioning, and my passion
toward helping him make his organization better, but we were not ment to
work together no longer than the three contracted weeks.  I was happy to
see Mike, but in the end I was happy to leave him.  I guess that is what
keeps our brotherly love so strong.  They do say that łAbsence makes the
heart grow fonder.˛.  I guess with he and I it helps us to be better
colleagues and brothers.  I look forward to our next visit and discussion.

While I was in Franklin I had three different places of lodging.  The first
week I was there I stayed in Mike and Donnaąs (Mikeąs Wife) lake house on
beautiful Lake Malone in Muhlenberg County.  The place was fresh with
spring green and May rain.  In fact it rained so much the roof sprung a bad
leak and dropped an entire piece of sheet rock into the middle of the
living room floor which overlooked the lake itself, and now was just as
wet.  The green remained the same growing deeper as the week passed.

The other drawback to the lake house was that it was a forty five minute
drive each morning over to Franklin to do my work.  Needless to say this
wasnąt any fun at all driving through the torrential Kentucky downpour on
narrow two lane blacktop roads that barely fit a semi within the designated
lines.  Still I drove each day, weaving my way past the houses farms and
fields either covered or surrounded with that first spring crop of
something another.  Whatever it was, it was damn sure wet, almost to the
point of drowning.

The second week I was there I stayed at  Mike and Donnaąs Bed and
Breakfast, The College Street Inn.  Each time I have done work for the
Program I have stayed at this fine establishment.  It is an 1860ąs plank
board home with one hell of an amount of class.  The room I got was right
up front and was octagonal.  On the front of the house it reach over the
top with a round spired roof neatly fit to the A-frame style of the rest of
the house top.  I would recommend it to anyone, they would be glad to
accommodate you.

The third week I slept in my most comfortable surroundings, The Mothership.
Of course it was in this dwelling that I slept my best.  I truly love my
łcave on wheels˛.  I guess the past 16 months have made me feel more at
home within her than any place else.

The seat fits my big posterior, the steering wheel lays in my hand like a
fine glove (albeit one of rubber), and the bed makes for a cozy crashing
zone that hugs me in and allows me to feel łThe Motherąs˛ warmth and
comfort.  She makes it trough wind and rain and sleet and snow and all
matter of inclement conditions like a champ.  I am sure you feel the same
way about your bus innards.  If you donąt you need to go camping more this
year.  Grab the wife and kids and hit the road, if you ainąt got them,
borrow a dog.

Speaking of dogs, Gus is doing well.  he is actually starting to come into
adulthood more and more each day.  he and I have spent so much time
together that if I leave his presence he gets kind of forlorn.  Slowly he
is learning his independence and hopefully one day will find it fully.
Sometimes I wish he would just get a hobby to occupy him.  Raw bones have
provided some relief as of late.  Plus they keep his teeth clean.

While in Franklin I got to head out to some VW meets in the not so distant
area.  The first weekend I drove over to Seveirville, Tennessee and met up
with all sorts of list members.  Blake Sartin, Dave Easterwood, Ed
Westfalia, Beau and Tanya, Lucas, Tim, Steve Lashley, Ted Finesman, Ric
Jablonski, and Lynn Sheely (Thanks for the hat Lynn).  I met many others
but canąt remember names so well these days.

It was a great meet.  Yes, it rained, but no one really cared.  We donned
our oldest or latest wet-gear and acted like folks from the Pacific
Northwest for a couple of days.  Beer and imbibation was the practice of
many, and the smell of nature drifted around others.  Life was cool, wet,
and easy for a show that was less that and more camp meeting.  VW Church is
what I mean.

Actually this meet was more of a camp out than a show.  I am not sure just
how much the rain played a part in creating that atmosphere but I am sure
it affected it in some way.  One most recognizable impression I got was
that the ones that got to know each other best and shared the most were the
bus owners.  We all camped on the grounds and partook of the flavors of
food and beverage together.  The show-beet-ghia folks headed to the nearest
hotel or Inn to sleep in the uncomfortable four walled rooms of gloom.  We
saw the stars when they appeared and they didnąt.

This was my first show of the season and it started me off quite nicely.  I
saw some brothers and sisters I have met before, and visited with some new
cohorts I am sure I will see again.  I drove back to Franklin the next
Sunday rested and ready for the next week of debate.

The second weekend I drove due south to Huntsville, Alabama.  This is to
date the southernmost show I have attended and it met some expectations
good and bad.  Looking at the more positive aspects it was quaint.  A local
dealership held it to help them sell some of the łbugs˛, if you can call it
that.

They held the event on a blacktop show lot at the dealership location.
There were more cars than busses, and more monza mufflered speedsters than
originals, and less greasy parts at the swap meet than any I have been to
thus far.

Several of us camped at the local State Park which was a great place to be.
Ed Westfalia, Beau and Tanya, Dave Easterwood, Frank and Linda, and a few
others showed up and we all just partied our little ole pea-pickin heads
off.  The day of the show, most of us headed back to camp early because we
had achieved as much of a tan as we needed from the hot asphalt we were
walking on.  Gus told me early on that it was time to find easier walking
surroundings.  Hell his feet are about a foot side and that big of a
blister could hurt, so I drove him back to the park.

The third Friday in Franklin, this past Friday, I left.  My contract was
done, I acquired my pay, hugged my good friends, and drove off waving and
smiling.  Ken Hooper had invited me down to his place several times and
this was my chance to finally meet our famed, high quality, now-former,
leader, and czar of our beloved, now two list.  Believe me when I tell you,
this is one good man!

Anyone who has the patience to put up with all my written dribble from the
past 16 months has to be special and good.  He is as direct as he is firm
in his beliefs and this weekend I found out that he has a great family to
boot.

He and his wife Erin, a great woman with a fine laugh, have raised two cute
little girls and one stocky and cute littler boy.  Dillon, Grey, and Glen
are about as bright as they come.  Dillon is quick-witted, attentive, and
aware and like Ken doesnąt mind expressing an opinion.  Grey is quiet and
more secluded and seems to always be thinking about something.  Her smile
is one of those that just lights up a room.

Glen, now heąs the card.  A true toddler rug-rat that is at the stage he is
having trouble turning around without falling.  he has learned how to climb
and is looking for greater heights to scale, hopefully without knocking a
knot on his blonde short -haired head.  I can see now where Ken learned how
to lead the list so well.  Thanks man.  Oh and Grey, watch out for Tyler
when he has golf clubs in his hands.  Better yet, watch out for Tyler
period.

Ken, Joe and myself pulled Joeąs engine from his bus and commenced to tear
it down.  Hey, Joe sid thatąs what Hoover said for him to do so we did it.
Joe was drunk on cheap wine when Ken and I arrived so Ken and I had to do
most of the work.  Joe just sat there playing in the sand he had poured on
his carport floor and played.  Poor guy, I hope heąs doing better. : )
Lifeąs too short to follow the little animals around that much.

I left Kensąs home this evening (Monday) around 6:00 PM.  Today he gave me
my new summer haircut and I think he and Tony Moore might be the best
barbers on the list.  I mean my hair is all even at itąs now 1/4 inch
length.  Be good Ken and all.  I think we will see each other again one of
these days and I most definitely look forward to it.

Tonight, Monday night, me, Gus and The Mothership are at the Trail of Tears
State Park in Southern Missouri.  I will head on up to Saint Louis tomorrow
where I will reunite with Brother Bill Bowman, Brother Pat Hoffman, and
brother Curt Smith, all of which I met a Busses By the Arch last year.

Brother Tom Neidernhoffer, another brother further ha told me that I might
could secure some summer work with the Army Corps of Engineers, who he
works for.  It is a long shot, but everything else has been as well.  Until
someone offers me a job I can live with I will travel and work odd jobs of
any sort.  I have some debts to pay so I will keep working.  If any of you
out there reading this from the Saint Louis area know of anything please
drop me a line.

The past three weeks have gone by quickly.  I have done some good service
work and hopefully because of what i did a few more in Kentucky and around
the country will learn to read and write, at least I hope and pray they do.

John Anderson with his gesture humbled me to no end.  I am thinking that
when I do settle into a job I will create a fund of some sort for Bus
travelers in trouble.  Sort of a road support fund if you may.  I am not
sure how I am going to do it.  But I will throw in the first amount to
match whatever the funds raised from the bus auction are.  Look for details
in the future post.

I will be posting to both list if Thom and Steve are in agreement with
that.  I canąt promise much motorhead stuff but I can promise the further
adventures of Charlie, Gus, and The Mothership.  Let me know the decision.

I am gonna crash now and in the morning before I leave I will take a tour
of this park. I remember thinking about the Trail of Tears as I traveled
through Oklahoma January was a year ago.  I guess this is my opportunity to
learn more about it.

Thanks for tolerating the ramblings.

Charlie Ford










Possibilities Development
(703) 684-7689
Resume available upon request
"79" VW  Bus, The Mothership
www.tiora.net/~keen/charlie/charlie.html
(all writings are copyrighted, and belong only to Charles J. Ford)
"Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"