I remember the day well – June 8, 1974.
   A big tornado rolled through my hometown of Tulsa, Okla. that early Saturday evening. I had been packing my trunk for Boy Scout camp and when the sirens went off, everyone, including my dad, crouched down in the hallway of our two-bedroom home on Florence Place and waited the storm out.
   It’s one of only times that I remember my dad coming inside seeking protection. Most of the time when a storm hit, he’d stand on the front porch with not a fear or worry watching as the storm clouds, rain, hail and wind rolled through. Not this time!
   The storm first touched down on the westside of Tulsa in the Brookside area, which sat along the Arkansas River that rolled west of downtown Tulsa and continued in the southeastern direction.
   After doing considerable damage to homes, businesses, restaurants and even the local NBC affiliate, the tornado lifted and took a northeasterly route near our home before touching down on the northeast side of Tulsa, again doing considerable damage to businesses, churches and homes.
   I remember hearing the tornado. It sounded like a freight train coming through the living room wall.
   We were one of the lucky ones and didn’t have any damage from the tornado going through.
   Boy Scouts was the activity to be involved in back in the day for a big city kid. I started in Cub Scouts and my Aunt Louise Horton, wife of my mom’s older brother, was my first scoutmaster. I moved on up the ranks to Webelo, then to Boy Scouts by the end of elementary school.
   I attended Boy Scout Camp for the first time in 1972 at Camp Garland near Locust Grove, Okla. Camp Garland is about 50 miles east of Tulsa and just up the road about five miles was Camp Scott, home of the Girl Scouts.
    I remember on more than one occasion some of us boys talking about sneaking out of camp and making our way to the girl’s camp. It was just boy talk as it was too far away and would have gotten us into big trouble.
     I attended camp from 1972 through 1976, the last being the summer between my sophomore and junior year in high school.
      I always attended camp the second week of June, arriving on Sunday and departing on Saturday. We had a swimming pool and would participate in canoe games on the nearby Spring Creek. There was a rifle and archery range and many scouting activities to enjoy.
    And of course the mess hall for our meals, unless we were working on a merit badge and had to cook outdoors. I can’t forget about mess hall duty and the time I poured the silverware down the shoot and it spilled out all over the kitchen floor. Apparently, I was supposed to wait as there was no basket in place for the silverware.
     There was also an outpost were any scout could enjoy a cold ice cream or some other sweet treat. We also had a beautiful outdoor chapel and I often attended. In fact, chapel was one of my favorite times at camp. It was so peaceful.
      At my first camp in 1972, my parents gave me $3 to spend. I only spent $2. They were so pleased that I got keep the extra $1.
     We camped in tents and I can remember a few storms that rolled through camp. I always sat my trunk on rocks in case it rained. When it rained, water would run through the tent and the rocks kept my belongings from getting wet.
    One particular storm, I believe in 1974, the high winds knocked down trees and large branches in the heavily wooded campgrounds. I have always been quite the sleeper and when the storm hit, most campers got up and handed for shelter. Not me, I stayed in the tent and slept through the storm. Thankfully, my tent held up in the wind and I enjoyed a good night’s rest.
      I remember another year going on a five-mile hike and overnight camp to earn a hiking merit badge. It was not my most memorable event at camp as I wore blisters on my feet from the hiking boots. And to add insult to injury, a rain and windstorm blew through and tore our makeshift camp to shreds. My sleeping bag got soaked as did my clothing.
      Scouting was fun. I didn’t rise too far in the Scouting ranks, only making it to Second Class. Later in life, rankings have little meaning. It’s all about the experiences, memories and friendships developed along the way.
       It seems like it was just yesterday when I was a kid and got to go to Boy Scout camp.
      Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

   I am currently working on filling my fourth jar of junk. 
   A jar of junk, you may ask?
   Yes, a jar of junk!
   It all started 20 years ago when I found a couple spent bullet casings at a cemetery in New Madrid, Mo., the namesake of the New Madrid Earthquake fault line and the birth town of my mother in the Bootheel of the Show Me State. The casings were more than likely from a three volley salute from a Memorial Day service.
  My folks and I were touring the area so Mom could relive her childhood days growing up near the Mississippi River. We drove all over the Bootheel that day.
   While touring the area, we stopped to visit family who are buried in the Evergreen Cemetery in New Madrid. My mom’s younger sister, Genola, is buried there. She was only four when she passed in 1948. My mom always spoke fondly of Genola. I know she loved her dearly.
   I have Genola’s doll, which I had put back together. A friend and well-known doll fix it lady from New London, Iowa, who I met at the Midwest Old Threshers Reunion, put her back together a few years ago after she had fallen in disrepair in my grandmother’s trunk. It is one of my treasured keepsakes from a time that I know little about.
     Anyway, I had a large empty Miracle Whip jar under the kitchen sink. I washed and dried it off and tossed the bullet casing inside. I sat it on the kitchen counter and when I would find a bottle cap or bolt or screw, I would stuff it in my pocket and carry it home for my junk jar. One jar led to another and now I’m working on jar four. 
    It’s larger than my other glass jars. I found it at one of the antique booths at Montezuma Floral on the town square. It is coming along nicely. I just added a handful of screws, bolts, plastic hooks and plastic O-rings I found the other day.
     Other items in my junk jars include clothing buttons, clothes pins, paper clips, screws, bolts, nuts, washers, old keys and key chains, pieces of wire, electrical parts and old fuses, bottle and beer caps, bullet casings and more. I’m always on the lookout for small junk items.
    I hope to display my junk jars on a shelf someday. They have no value, outside of being a conversation piece. If I do decide to sell, maybe I will get lucky and be like the person who sold “The Meaning of Life,” on eBay for $3.26.
    “I have discovered the reason for our existence and will be happy to share this information with the highest bidder,” the seller told Time magazine in an article published in 2000. 
   Eight people were curious enough to place bids. That’s not much to learn about the meaning of life. It cost more than that for a cheeseburger and an order of French fries at McDonalds.
   Jars of junk are not the only thing I enjoy collecting. I have quite an extensive collection of postcards. Most of my postcards, which are neatly organized in three-ring binders, have connections to my family, where we lived, visited on vacations, etc. I even have a nice collection of outhouse postcards and military comic postcards from World War II. I am currently collecting postcards from different Iowa towns. There are some really neat ones.
   I also have about 100 cigar boxes. Most are cardboard, but a couple or metal and one is plastic. Some of the artwork on the boxes is nice. I also enjoy collecting old tools, saws, hay hooks, bottle openers, vintage board games, Skelly Oil items (my mom worked at Skelly Oil back in the day), Pepsi items, seed corn pocket note books, hat patches, toys and other smalls.
   And when possible, I enjoy going garage sale hunting. Just last week I hit a few garage sales at Lake Ponderosa outside of Montezuma. I found a “Touring (card game)” in the original box for 10 cents. The game was first introduced in 1906 by the Wallie Dorr Company. Parker Brothers acquired the game in 1925. I have a much later version and there is no instructions, but for a dime, I consider it nice find.
   I also picked up a vintage Louis Marx Disney Mickey and Friends tin doll house for a good price. It came with a sack of furniture, but I don’t know if it is all original to the house. Those old tin doll houses are cool. Debbie and I have a few of them along with a tin western town.
   It’s good to have hobbies. Collecting and antiquing is fun and it is something that Debbie and I enjoy doing together.
   Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

   My dad loved to visit and a stranger to him was just a friend waiting to be met.
   It used to drive me nuts when my dad would stop and talk to a stranger while out and about, until I started following in his footsteps.
    It’s kind of funny how we pick up and carry on the traditions and habits of our parents.
   That happened to be the case on Thursday, May 6 when I was walking across the Montezuma Courthouse Square while running an errand. As I jotted across from the flower shop to Ron’s Barber Shop, two bicyclers were resting on the benches in front of the Veteran’s Memorial. I stopped to visit and introduced myself.
   “Montezuma is home to the Class 1A State Basketball Champions,” I said of introducing the town and myself.
      They introduced themselves as Charlie Bagin and Maddie Plank. I learned that the two bicyclers were on a journey across America from New Jersey to Seattle.
      For some reason, I failed to ask why they were on the journey. The two asked about grabbing a bite to eat and I directed them to the town eateries. I think they went for Mexican food at Yolandas.
      I asked if I could take their photo with the courthouse in the background and I offered to send it to them. Charlie shared his email. I sent the photo a couple days later and I asked why there were on the journey.
      “We are riding across the country to have a fun adventure, see our country, and support NAMI and mental health awareness,” Charlie replied to my email, noting that he liked the photo and info on the Poweshiek County Courthouse, which I included with my email.
     Charlie said the two, who I learned are basketball players from Princeton University, left New Jersey in early April and where about a month into their journey. He said it would take about 1.5 months to get to Seattle.
 Since that day, I have been following their journey through their website http://namicoast2coast.wixsite.com/website and as of writing this column, the two where near the Devils Tower in Wyoming.
     Charlie said they are staying with friends, staying in motels and camping out on their journey. I’m sure they were carrying the kitchen sink with them on their journey.
       Meeting Charlie and Maddie reminds me of the time when I decided to return to college at the University of Missouri-Columbia.
      When I moved, I knew my landlord, my advisor at MU and the now late Dr. Keener Tippin, a vice provost at MU who, along with his secretary, helped guide me in the early days of my return to college. It was Dr. Tippin who told me about the Agricultural Journalism program and helped me get established. And his secretary helped me find a dentist in Columbia when I developed a bad tooth ache.
       In the years since, I have made many friends and they all have played a pivotal role in my success in life.
       Keep on moving, keep on walking and keep on believing. 
       Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

   It seems like yesterday when I was a little fellow.
   I remember elementary school and playing baseball in either first or second grade. I was scared of the ball and would just stand in the outfield. If the ball came my way, I usually ran the other direction.
   I don’t know if I helped my team, the Lanier Lions, win any games, but the cold Pepsi in a bottle afterwards when we did win, was always a nice treat.
   I tried out for basketball in eighth grade, but didn’t make the team. I also ran the mile in ninth-grade track in 1975.
   I once ran a race, one of the few that I remember finishing, at a neighboring high school track. There were five of us in that race – three ninth graders and two younger runners.
   I poured my heart into the race and held a strong second place lead in the ninth-grade class until the final lap when I got passed. My mom was there and I can still see it today.
   I kicked it into high gear and just gave it my all. Even though I was the last kid to cross the finish line, my efforts earned me a third-place ribbon in the ninth-grade class.
   Back in the day, high schools in Oklahoma had spring football. My good friend, David, and I decided to try out for the team, the Ropers, our sophomore year at Will Rogers High School in Tulsa. He had experience playing in the junior high and I just wanted to try.
   We stepped into the meeting that spring day and some of the upper classmen chuckled, but it didn’t stop us from trying.
   I struggled through the drills and was sent home to try another activity. My good friend, David, didn’t make the team either.
   I also enjoyed bowling and credit my Aunt Alice, my mom’s younger sister, for teaching me the game when I was 12.
   I bowled in a number of leagues through the years and once rolled a 633 series. I picked up the sport again in 2015, but only stayed with it for two years.
   I have since resorted to watching sports on television these days.
  My favorite sports are college football and basketball and softball. Debbie enjoys basketball and softball. She often tells me stories about playing in junior high at Montezuma. I love listening to her tell the story of the time the game was on the line and she collided with the first baseman and came up all bloodied, but she was safe and the Bravettes won.
   “She was blocking the bag,” Debbie would say about that game.
   A proud and memorable moment for her.
   Once college basketball season comes to an end, Debbie tunes into college softball. She loves the game and watches as much as possible.
   In late March, we were able to travel to Ames and watch two games between the Oklahoma Sooners and Iowa State Cyclones.
   While in Ames, we got our photo take with Paige Lowary, who we met at the first game. Paige, who won two Class 4A state softball titles as a pitcher at Dallas Center-Grimes, played two years at the University of Missouri before transferring to OU, where she helped the Sooners win a National Championship in 2017. She signed autographs and talked to fans. She even brought her National Championship ring and was letting the younger fans wear it and have their photo taken with the ring. Paige said she hasn’t had that much attention in two years. We enjoyed meeting and visiting with her. 
   The Sooners won both games and a third game, which we were unable to attend. This is the third time in recent years we’ve enjoyed watching the Sooners play in Ames.
   We got to watch the Missouri Tigers softball team in Columbia in a regional playoff game a few years ago. We’ve also attended pro softball games in Chicago in 2014 and Columbia, Mo., and East Peoria, Ill. in 2015. We got to see lots of great former college stars, including Chelsey Thomas, the Pride of Pleasantville, play. She played college softball at Missouri and spent a couple years in the pro league for the USSSA Pride before retiring from the game.
   As I write this column, conferences such at the Big 12, SEC, ACC and Pack 12 are all playing their softball tournaments. Regionals are this coming this weekend and then super regionals. The final eight teams will advance to play in the Women’s College World Series in Oklahoma City, June 3 – 9. We have the WCWS on our bucket list of travels.
   I hope you can take time to tune in and enjoy a game of softball.
   Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

   I got behind a large dual-wheeled tractor the other day pulling a plow that was as big as my house. It’s a common sight these days as good weather has made its arrival and area farmers are in the fields planting corn and soybeans.
   It’s one of my favorite times of the year watching the farmers doing their thing taking care of the earth, planting seed and growing crops to feed the world.
    I was tempted to go around the big fella, but since I was less than a mile from my turnoff, I decided to wait it out and take my time.
    I wasn’t in a hurry and whatever needed to be done, could wait.
  It was kind of like that growing up in Tulsa, a city today of 400,000 plus, not including the dozen or so neighboring communities and suburbs surrounding Oklahoma’s second largest city.
   When I was kid growing up in the mid 1970s, the population was around 330,000. Not quite a big, but it was still a big city. There’s been a population explosion since back in the day. What used to be pastures and farmland between Tulsa and the surrounding small towns, today the roads are lined with shopping malls, movie theater complexes, restaurants, golf courses, convenience stores, office buildings, fancy hotels and expressways, etc.
   In the big city, it’s not uncommon to get in a traffic jam and have to wait through a half dozen stoplights to cross an intersection. And a half of mile or mile down the road, another stoplight awaits. Roads that were once two lane are now four lane with turnoffs and double left hand turns and the such.
   You can’t get in a hurry in the big city. One can cutoff and drive through a Wal-Mart parking lot or cut through a neighborhood, if you know a shortcut, but in the big city, waiting is what most have to do.
   Waiting is part of life.
   Graduation is just around the corner and area youth will soon be off to see the world.
   This is my advice.
   Life is full of well-meaning rocks and trees. You will run into them every day in the form of other people who have opinions about who you are and what they think you should be doing with your life. Some have good advice and others offer well-meaning advice.
   Don’t be distracted or let what others say keep you from reaching your goals in life. 
   When faced with a rock or tree, listen then go around, keep walking and keep believing. 
   Your future is bright and your goals are obtainable. 
   Back in college, I had a meeting with my advisor and director of the Ag-J program. I was struggling to get into journalism school. I had failed the required grammar test twice and it put me behind the “8” ball.
   To get into the University of Missouri School of Journalism, I was required to take a writing intensive course on the History of American Journalism and a news writing course. I was also required to get an 80 on the 100 question grammar test.
   These gentlemen suggested that I might consider going a different route. They suggested that I take a couple journalism courses and wrap up my degree in agricultural school with a general ag degree.
   As I sat there in the office that day, I told these gentleman that I came to MU to earn a degree in Agricultural Journalism and that is what I was going to do. I told them in 10 years, I would look back and think about what I did and that it was important to stay the course.
   Well, I passed the grammar exam that fall with an 82 and went on to have a great experience in journalism school and continue to enjoy what I have chosen to do in life.
   Enjoy your life, do good to others, give your best every day and mostly importantly, keep on walking.
   Congrats!
   Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.