Feels Like The First Time

It's been so long since I posted a new thought that I feel like a noob here. I've moved to a new church and have been so involved that I haven't taken time for much else. That's about to change.

We've gotten the new parsonage (I say 'we' loosely since it really was my wife's doing) all arranged and decorated for the event of daily life here in Marlin, Tx. And life here in Marlin is quite interesting. First off, the town of nearly 7000 is an old mineral water mecca, thriving during the first half of the last century. However, new advances in medicine brought about a decline and subsequent downturn. All the big and beautiful homes here, the hayday activities, and the bustling businesses are either moving away or rotting away. Some, however, are staying the course and praying for change. The only thing that is constant is the mineral water flowing out of the old downtown fountain by the Chamber of Commerce building. The mineral water still works too...just drink a full glass of it and get ready to rock. Be close by a toilet also.

The old families who were around during the good times still recall, with relish, the glory of better times.

But there is an undercurrent here that is slowly emerging. I haven't grasped it's full meaning yet, but in time I will. In part it is the decisions of past generations that have helped this demise along. Perhaps it will be the decisions of present generations to pull this town, and community, up from the well.

Since I am the eternal optimist, the romantic dreamer, the bull-headed progressive, I believe that there are possibilities ahead that will help our little town, once again, be vital in a new age of medical and technical marvels...with a traditional slant and tip-o-the-hat to the best of what once was. But putting new wine into old wine skins is a dangerous proposition. So, how best to proceed depends on the efforts to future generations...our children. We are old and tired (hey! watch that 'old guy' wisecrack, fella!). They aren't.

One of the challenges is simply black and white. North side and South side, if you get my drift. It has always been here since the civil war. This integrated community, besides its tensions, has existed in a sort of harmonious uneasiness. Yeah, I know there is something that isn't right about that phrase, but one gets the sense of it on the streets also. Everyone is congenial enough toward one another, but the younger generations have noticed it and accepted it begrudgingly. Many have simply flown away like migrating birds of a feather, revisiting yearly, the place of their ancestry. Perhaps they are dreaming too. The rest are caught and can only hope to accomplish a feat of revitalization that will breathe new life into a place with a rich history and short of breath.

My new post. My new thought. My new hope.

One of my favorite places to travel to is a place in Oklahoma, close to the Arkansas border, on Winding Stair Mountain. The place I visit is called Winding Stair Campground. It is also where the Ouachita Trail crosses Hwy 1 on the way to Talimena State Park, about 4 miles from Hwy 259 on the west side. Having read about this infamous spot in old news clippings, I decided to write this story. If you're familiar with the event you'll appreciate the historical accuracy; if you are unfamiliar with it, well, you have a bit of research to do. If I am amiss in any details, forgive me, I'm not perfect. I hope you enjoy it. - Jeff

A few years back an older couple was enjoying a camping trip, one of 25 they went on yearly. The year was 2003. The peace and solitude they sought was just a couple hours away on a mountain they had grown to love dearly. Their marriage had grown stronger every year because they loved the same things: nature, the sounds of God's creation, the sharing. They loved even more the simplicity of such times to retreat away from the rush and noise of Fort Worth. Their love of God was also precious to them. He had answered many prayers and pleas to provide for them and soothe them with the 'time off' that kept them in touch with Him and others.

This time was no different...but it was.

One of their best destinations was a small campground on a northern ridge in the Winding Stair Mountains. Hardly anyone went there, much. Usually the water supply was non-existent though there were showers and toilets. Perhaps that is why it was so desolate much of the time. So they went...again. Happy. Seeking.

Another had the same destination in mind. He was a prison guard. He stored up in his person the many instances of hate, greed, violence, and hopelessness that he witnessed daily in his work. In such an environment it was hard to forget and to deal with. Perhaps he thought of peace often...and furiously. So he went out alone many times to distance himself from others. It was a practice that took a very wrong turn. Why need another at all if the outcome was housed behind brick walls and steel, a constant reminder of relationships that play out and die. So out he went, to a place he heard of on a northern ridge on some remote mountain range. Maybe he looked up to the hills one day and saw it - who would really know? His traveling companions were odd: pieces of burlap, a guille suit, a .22 rifle.

The day was peaceful for the couple. They just wandered Highway 1 to Talihina and back. A nice, easy drive. They sat in their car at the campground and talked and listened to the wind in the trees and the birds chuckling in the shrubs. The evening was approaching like a blanket being pulled over a sleeping baby. Their love was spoken to one another in many ways. Their God was blessing them with peace and joy all rolled into one in this one, perfect evening...to be as one with God and each other. The cracks were heard only by the creatures of the mountain; and one startled pair of ears that were a moment later silenced.

Hope and hopelessness had met. Two at peace with God and man; the other never knew such peace.

It was a motorcyclist who found the couple a day later. Their love had brought them to God's bosom in a remote campground on a northern ridge in the Winding Stair Mountains.

In Memory of Charles and Shirley Chick, who loved and went to God.

Jeff Stull, 2008