There are two places that I believe people these days don’t spend enough time sitting a spell and getting to know each other – the porch and the kitchen table.
           My mama had an old metal table with four chairs in the kitchen. We ate most of our suppers and meals at that table together as a family.
            The kitchen table provided lots of great memories as a kid.
            Experts say time spent at the kitchen table offers profound benefits. It serves as the literal heartbeat of the home where families gather to share meals, pray and build lasting relationships. I have to agree.
            It was at the table where I helped snap green beans as a kid from the garden or turn mom’s antique food grinder. It was an aluminum coned shaped device in a three-legged stand that was used to smash and drain tomatoes for canning.
            These days you can buy an electrical grinder that will do the same thing with less effort.
            My folks had a small garden in the backyard of our Tulsa home. They raised a few vegetables including cabbage, lettuce, onions, okra and tomatoes.
            My dad always enjoyed gathering a head of lettuce and some onions and my mom would make him a bowl of wilted lettuce using hot bacon grease. Of course, we had a grease can on the stove top.
           The grease was often used to season fried potatoes or okra. I remember once my mom used the grease to make homemade lye soap.
           In the late 1960s and early 70s, my folks and another family, the Schellhorns from the First Baptist Church, raised a huge garden together on a spot of land in East Tulsa.
            My dad would load his Montgomery Ward roto-tiller in the back of his 1967 Chevrolet truck and carry it to the garden and till the earth.
         They raised everything from watermelons to cantaloupes, tomatoes, okra, green beans, carrots, potatoes, corn, squash, beets, radishes, peas and every other kind of vegetable imaginable.
             I remember many summer days being in the kitchen and hearing the pressure cooker whistling away on the stove. There were two large pantry cabinets in our kitchen that were always stocked with canned goods.
            On Friday nights in the late 1970s, my dad and I would make the five or so mile trek to north Sheridan in Tulsa and stop at the Chuckwagon drive-in. The restaurant was shaped like a chuckwagon and featured drive in carhop and walk up service. It was there that we would order wheel burgers with the fixings and French fries and head home.
            We’d all sit around the table and eat supper while watching the  Dukes of Hazard and Dallas on a small television.
            It was also in the kitchen and living room that I got my backside spanked if I misbehaved. If I got in trouble in school, I was guaranteed a spanking when I got home. I admit, it hurt, but I’m thankful for every spanking I got as it kept me out of trouble.
            We also had a nice size dining room table with two extra leaves and chairs. We enjoyed many holiday meals at that table and it was also a gathering place for when company came over for lunch of Kentucky Fried Chicken after church on Sunday.
            We wrapped presents on that table and celebrated birthdays and I also did homework there. And in the winter months, we hung our coats on the chairs to dry.
            We had a nice size concrete front porch, but I don’t recall using it much as a youngster. However, we did have large concrete deck out back. My dad would fire up the Hasty-Bake charcoal grill and cook a chicken on the rotisserie or grill some hamburgers.
        We often had family stop and we’d all gather outside to visit and eat. And sometimes we’d have homemade ice cream.
            When we’d go fishing, we often brought our catch home and cleaned them on the back patio. My mom would cook the fish in the iron skillet along with a batch of fried potatoes. It’s hard to beat fresh crappie, catfish or bass with a side of potatoes.
            I remember another time when my dad was mowing neighborhood yards. It was getting late and my mom decided to fry a chicken. It must have been midnight before we ate, but what great memories I have.
             At our Iowa home, we don’t have a front porch, outside of a small concrete pad by the walkout garage door. We do have a nice deck in the back, but it faces west, northwest and gets too hot to sit outside on a summer evening.
            I’ve often dreamed of having a roof of some sort put over the deck.
Last year while going garage sale hunting in Mount Pleasant during the Midwest Old Threshers, we bought two new in-the-box white rocking chairs like they have at the Cracker Barrel Restaurant, only these were from Wal-Mart.
            I still haven’t put them together, but once I do, it will be a nice addition to our deck. I’m going to have to spend mornings on the deck instead of afternoons.
            Life can get busy these days as there is always something that needs to be done. I encourage you to find time to spend with family and friends on the porch or at the kitchen table. It’s time well spent!
            Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

          I experienced the Montezuma Let Freedom Ring Parade from a different vantage point this year – a lawn chair.
         I typically enjoy walking among the floats as they roll along Main Street while taking photos of the crowd, capturing the kids gathering candy and other fun activities.
            Having had back surgery and using a walker outdoors, I was a bit limited this year and found solace at the southwest corner of Main and Third streets.
            I had to deal with the sun and crowds that quickly gathered in front of me, making it nearly impossible to see the floats and take photos.
           I understand, kids and families all get excited about filling their bags with candy and are not always aware of those around them.
              It’s a lesson we can all learn from.
               I still was able to take a few good photos and enjoyed taking in the sunny weather.
         I met a family that was visiting our fine city that recognized Debbie and me as the authors and publishers of our “Family Reunion: Midwest Old Threshers” book.
              The lady talking with me said I took a photo of her son.
              “You took his photo and it’s in the book,” she said. “He was 7 then.”
            That would have been in 2007, so that makes him around 26 or so. He said this year his family will have camped at the Old Threshers for 27 years.
              This year will mark our 18th year to camp at the Midwest Old Threshers Reunion. It would have been year 19 had Covid not halted the reunion in 2020.
            Anyway, there was nice crowd and a variety of floats during Saturday’s parade. It was a nice move on the Montezuma Community Development to honor our local veterans as the parade grand marshals. It was also good to see my dear friend, Ron Hensel, aka Ron the Barber, in the parade. He was seated in his wife, Bea’s, Ford Mustang as they rolled along the parade route.
            Ron had a stroke in March last year and his health had declined rapidly. And most recently, he was diagnosed with ALS. It led to him retiring in early June after 60 years as a barber in Indianola, Des Moines and Montezuma.
            He opened Ron’s Barber Shop on the Montezuma Square in September 2008 and cut my hair more times than I can count. I’ve probably lost a lot more hair than I got haircuts.
            I always enjoyed stopping at the barbershop and chatting with Ron and meeting some of the many savory locals who stopped to shoot the bull, talk politics and gossip a bit.
            Ron, the former commander of the legion who led the charge to build a new legion hall, has always been a defender of all veterans. For years, he’s hosted Memorial Day services and was Johnny on the spot in bringing the Freedom Rock to Montezuma 10 years ago.
            And Bea has been the leader of the American Legion Auxiliary. 
           What a blessing he has been to the Montezuma Community. Thank you Ron and Bea for your service to the United States and to Montezuma.
           This year’s celebration included pie eating and greased pig contests. SUDS foam spray was on hand as a sprinkler was set up for the kids to enjoy.
            There was a dunk tank, bouncy houses, lots of good food, including the annual Lions Club Chicken BBQ feast, and much more.
Moving on
            I always looked forward to the Fourth of July as a kid.
            My dad would stop at OK Fireworks in west Tulsa near where he worked at a factory and pick up one of the advertised special fireworks box filled with Roman candles, firecrackers, bottle rockets, sparklers and more.
           It didn’t take me long to go through the box of firework goodies. My favorites were Black Cats and bottle rockets.
          A box of firework explosives cost around $12 or so in the 1970s. That’s a far cry from what it costs today. 
       I was a bit onery as a youngster and enjoyed blowing up ant hills and also catching and tying grasshoppers to bottle rockets and shooting them off.
          My friends and I would find a pop bottle and shoot so many bottle rockets that it turned the bottle black.
         I don’t shoot off fireworks these days. One of these years I’m going to try and photograph people shooting off fireworks. I’ve never done that.
          A few year ago I ventured down on the Lake Ponderosa Causeway to take photos of the pyrotechnicians getting ready for the evening show.
            That was kind of scary as the fireworks, which looked like bowling balls on a rope, were placed by hand in PVC pipes housed in a wooden frame.
            The wicks were then secured to electronic cables to allow the pyrotechnician to fire them off from a computer relay located nearby on the causeway.
              It’s an interesting process to watch a fireworks show unfold.
            Some years ago, I attended a Civil War re-enactment at the Poweshiek County Fairgrounds. The event was run by one of the local Civil War groups in the county and area and was designed to teach students in fifth grade hands-on history, including patching up a wounded soldier from the battlefield.
              These fellows, who are all re-enactors, would bring a real cannon and fire that thing off for the kids.
          I did have some luck photographing the blasting of the cannon. The key in getting a good photo is timing and keeping your ears plugged.
            Now that I’m getting older, I find myself plugging my ears during the Fourth of July parade from all the fire trucks, police vehicles and ambulances blowing their sirens.
            With several sirens going off at the same time, it can be deafening. 
            I hope you had a great Fourth of July and were able to cookout and spend time with family and friends.
          The best part of it all is the opportunity to thank God for his many blessings as we celebrate this nation’s 250th birthday.
            Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

          I enjoy photography and history and when I recently learned about an exhibit called “Faces of the Mother Road: The Lost Portraits of S.J. Tyler,” I had to know more.
               I started researching and learning more about the photography display. 
            It had all came about in 2023 when author and photographer, Adam Forgash, discovered a series of several thousand antique glass photo negatives in a flea market in Manhattan, New York.
Eight months later, while browsing through thousands of anonymous glass photo negatives, Forgash discovered an envelope tucked away between two of the glass negatives advertising Sydney Joseph Tyler’s Photography Studio in Afton, Okla.
            Afton is located in far northeast Oklahoma near Joplin, Mo.
       Forgash reached out to The University of Tulsa’s Mary F. Barnard Professor of Nineteenth-Century American History Kristen Oertel.
         “He just emailed me out of the blue and said, ‘I found these glass negatives at this flea market and I thought they were really beautiful, so I bought them,’” recalled Oertel. “‘Do you think they’re as significant as I think they might be?’”
           Forgash sent the first batch of photographs to Oertel, who noted that they appeared to be taken in the 1920s and 30s.
          “What struck me was how many different kinds of people were represented by the photographs,” she said. “I think we have this impression of early 20th-century photography being of only middle - and upper - class white families who had the money to sit for a photography session. Tyler seems to have gone out of his way to capture every kind of person who was traveling and living along Route 66.”
          In doing research, Forgash discovered that Tyler had a diverse clientele, including Black, Asian, Latino, Indigenous and mixed families. At the time, Afton was a hub of activity, and the surrounding regions brought a lot of tourism to the town.
          In the 1920s, Afton served as a prominent Frisco division point and shipping center. While in the 1930s, the town saw a decline in agricultural jobs, benefiting from Route 66 (Main Street) which spurred commerce.     Today, the economy is more tourist-supported with the creation of Grand Lake of the Cherokees in 1940.
        For three decades, Tyler’s portraits were taken on fragile glass plates, then forgotten for nearly a century. The images are more than photographs – they are a time capsule of early America.
       Tyler moved from Pennsylvania to Afton in 1912 and bought a studio owned by R. A. Younger. He lived and worked there from 1913 to 1949. Tyler’s wife, Nettie, worked at the Afton Eagle as the society page editor. The couple later moved back to Pennsylvania.
     Tyler’s studio was located on what would eventually become part of America’s famous Route 66, undoubtedly contributing to his wide range of clients.
         Route 66 opened in 1926.
       “Although the photo studio was in Afton, this is really a story about the travelers of the Mother Road,” said Forgash. “Most of the photographer’s subjects were everyday travelers passing through the region, making this collection a unique and unseen glimpse into the history of Route 66, northeast Oklahoma, and the people and cultures that shaped the region.”
        In a partnership with the Route 66 Alliance, and author/historian Michael Wallis, “Faces of the Mother Road: The Lost Portraits of S.J. Tyler” exhibit opened at the University of Tulsa in January 2026 and was on display for two months. Since that time, Forgash has been reaching out to museums along Route 66 in hopes of displaying the exhibit elsewhere.
        Forgash, who has been buying, selling and collecting antique photographs and photographic equipment for 30 years, said it’s been tough going trying to find museums to accept the display.
        “I want to get the photo display out of there because it is important,” he said.
         It appears that the main issue is funding.
        “I’m paying for this out of my pocket,” Forgash said in an telephone interview.
        Forgash does have a show booked in New Mexico in the near future and he and an author from Tulsa are working on a book project of the glass negative antique photos. There is no timeline on the book.
        The photos and portraits I’ve seen on Facebook and the Internet are just beautiful. I hope Forgash can get the funding he needs to showcase the exhibit.
         It would be worth a trip to Oklahoma or Missouri to see the photos.
        For more information on the earlier exhibit in Tulsa and the Faces of the Mother Road visit the project’s website at: www.facesofthemotherroad.com.
         If you would like to donate to this project, please contact Forgash through the website.
         Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

        While scrolling through Facebook the other day, I was surprised to learn that the female lioness sleeps approximately 15 -18 hours a day. And the male lion sleeps an average of 18 - 20 hours a day. They do that to renew their strength and conserve energy for intense, explosive burst of activity like hunting prey or defending their territory. The lion and lioness are some of the strongest and fastest animals in the jungle. 
         When it comes to sleep, I am glad to be in good company. 
          I, too, enjoy taking long naps. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.
          I only remember once sleeping more than 20 hours.
        It was a hot July day in my hometown of Tulsa. I had decided to mow the front yard. After making several laps, I got hot and overcome by the heat.
         I shut the push mower off and headed into the house to cool off.
          I found the comfort of the living room chair next to the window AC, which I called my prayer chair. I often sat in that chair and read my Bible and prayed.
          Anyway, I fell into a deep sleep and woke up around 10 p.m. at which time I moved to my bedroom and fell back asleep.
         I woke up at 4 a.m. and decided to get dressed and make a stop at the local Quick Trip convenience store a few blocks from my boyhood home.
          I drank a bottle of Pepsi and played a few rounds of pinball before returning home, where I quickly fell back asleep.
           I didn’t wake up until 2 p.m. that day.
           Either the heat got to me or I was really tired.
        Another time, in early December 1975, a rare winter tornado struck Tulsa. I was throwing newspapers with my mom in the morning, so most days after school I would come home, lay on the couch and take a nap. During this particular storm, the sirens went off. I was so asleep that I never heard them. I’m glad my angels were watching over me.
         Not too long ago, Debbie and I were talking to someone we met. We got on the subject of sleeping and this lady informed me that I should never take more than a 20 minute nap. Most of my naps are about two or so hours.
         My dad worked at a factory and everyday he would come into the house and lay down on the hard living room floor and take a 20-minute catnap.
          He’d grab a sofa pillow to lay under his head.
       Then he’d get up and out the door he’d go to mow yards in the our neighborhood. I guess the naps helped.
          That reminds me of the many mornings that I got up with my mom to throw the Tulsa World newspaper at 4:30 a.m. and later the Tulsa Tribune (evening) newspaper.
         It was a family enterprise with my brother pitching in and my dad helping on Sundays. Then we were off to church.
       Our church, First Baptist, in downtown Tulsa shared television rights with three other churches in the 1970s. The services were aired on a local television station. Each church shared the cameras and gear for three months at a time.
         I liked hanging around in the audio visual room with my friend Rob. I asked Mr. Ed, as we called him, if I could operate one of the cameras.
         Mr. Ed was the sound booth director.
     One Sunday morning during the sermon while I operated the television camera, I fell asleep. I had headphones on, but was so out of it, that I couldn’t hear Mr. Ed calling my name.
         He finally gave up on me and let me sleep.
         My time behind the camera came to an end after that ordeal.
       However, I still got to help Mr. Ed take down the microphones after the service and turn all the equipment off.
        And some Sunday mornings I hung around the janitor and maintenance crew in the basement. My dad liked to stop before the sermon and visit with the fellows. I would join my dad and sometimes I would hang around through the church service.
         I could hear the preacher over the sound system, so I got to hang out and hear God’s word at the same time.
         There was a mother and her son who used to clean the church. On some Sundays, the young fellow and I would slip out of the church and listen to rock and roll music in our cars.
          That was probably not approved behavior in my mom’s rule book, but it made for fun memories.
          Anyway, I’m getting a little tired. I think it’s time for a nap.
          I need to gather my strength for the next day’s activities.
          Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

        Being retired from my day job and also healing from recent back surgery, I have had some extra time on my hands of late.
         That has led to me enjoying watching videos mostly on Facebook and some TikTok.
       In May, I came across a video produced by Fenceline Equipment in Onawa in western Iowa between Omaha and Sioux City.
          The business is owned by Ty Smith, 16, and his brother, Clay Smith, 12, who started it a few years ago as a way to make extra cash.
          “The boys started buying old broken down lawnmowers and fixing them up and selling them,” said their dad, Jason Smith. “They then started buying old tractors and fixing those up.”
         Jason is an auctioneer and owner of DreamDirt Farm Real Estate and Auction, also in Onawa with satellite locations in West Des Moines, Storm Lake, Dubuque and Mason City.
            Jason said all of his family has a strong interest in history.
        “Our interest lies in farm Implements, farm power and industrial power such as trains and machine shops,” he said.
         The family also attends the Midwest Old Threshers and the boys volunteer on the train in Mount Pleasant and at the train museum in Sioux City.
               Last fall Jason was working with a family near Denison to hold an auction.
               That is when he came across an old Gilson Hit and Miss engine.
           “I saw it out setting in the woods while walking the property line,” said Jason. “It was scrap to the family and I offered to buy it.”
           The family used the engine to power their sawmill and later used it on a feed grinder. They parked in in the barn in 1945 and 10 years later in 1955, they needed more room in the barn, so the Gilson was moved outside. It had been sitting there ever since.
            The family agreed to sell it and then winter hit before Jason could return and pick up the old engine.
“We had to wait until spring to pick it up,” he said. “We brought it home on May 15.”
           Jason said he posted a few pictures on Facebook of the Gilson and it drew the interest of folks from all over the world. People were commenting on the posts and video and sending emails.
         “We had 16,000 followers on our Facebook page and a month later we had 80,000 followers,” said Jason.
After digging into the Gilson, the trio quickly discovered that it had a broken exhaust valve push rod and the piston was stuck in the cylinder – really stuck.
         Over the course of the next month, Jason and his two boys tried everything under the sun to get the piston unstuck.
            They made and posted video and sought the advice of others.
They used compressed air and about every type of lubricate known to man. They also used hammers, heat and dry ice, all to no avail.
           After creating a homemade bracket that mounted on top the piston cylinder and using a 10-ton press to apply pressure, the piston gave up the ghost and the trio was able to remove it from the engine cylinder on June 14, one month after bringing it home.
            According to Jason, the Gilson is a Style D model made around 1909.
            Gilson collectors refer to it as an early Gilson. Jason said that style was offered for about two years.
          The engines were produced by Gilson Manufacturing Company in Port Washington, Wisc. and Guelph, Ontario.
         Hit and miss engines regulate their speed by literally “missing” power cycles.” When the engine is running too fast, a mechanical governor locks the exhaust valve open. Because the valve stays open, there is no suction to draw in fuel, and the engine simply coasts without firing. When the speed drops below the set limit, the valve closes, the engine “hits” (fires) and the cycle continues.
            When asked, Jason said he and his two boys plan to rebuild the engine, a project he said will take three – six months.
         “That thing will run again,” said Jason. “We got some issues ahead. The exhaust push rod will need repaired and a new exhaust valve will have to be made.”
             I love sharing stories about old farm equipment. Having grown up in the big city, I knew nothing about farm equipment and steam and old hit and miss engines.
            It’s fun to learn along the way and maybe someday I will have my own hit and miss engine.
           Jason said to keep an eye on Facebook and follow along on the journey to bring the old Gilson back to life.
            One of my next goals is to make a trip to Owana and see the Gilson and meet the family.
            Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

        I had just completed my junior year in high school when one of Oklahoma’s still unsolved murders of three Girl Scouts at Camp Scott near Locust Grove, Oklahoma took place. Someone raped and murdered three Tulsa area Girl Scouts on their first night at camp on Sunday, June 12, 1977. 
         The bodies of Lori Lee Farmer, age 8; Michele Heather Guse, age 9, and Doris Denise Milner, age 10, were found by a camp counselor on a trail leading to the campsite’s showers about 150 yards from their tent. They were all stuffed in sleeping bags. They had been sharing Tent #7 in the camp’s “Kiowa” Unit, which was located the farthest from the camp counselor’s tent.  
         At around 6 a.m. on June 13th, a camp counselor on her way to the shower saw a girl’s body in her sleeping bag in a wooded area just outside of the tent area. It was then discovered that all three girls from Tent #7 were missing. As counselors began searching, they discovered that all three girls had been murdered. Two bodies were inside a sleeping bag, crumpled toward the bottom of the bag. And one body was visible on the outside.
         Subsequent testing showed that they had been bludgeoned and strangled. All three girls had been raped.
          A large red flashlight was found on top of the girls’ bodies. A smudged fingerprint was found on the lens, but it has never been identified as it was too smudged for a positive identification. A footprint from a 9.5 size shoe was also found in the blood in the tent.
           The case was classified as solved when Gene Leroy Hart, a local jail escape with a history of violence and rape, was arrested. It took 10 months to find Hart after the murders when he was discovered living with a medicine man.
            Hart had been at large since 1973 after escaping from the Mayes County Jail. He had been convicted of kidnapping and raping two pregnant women as well as four counts of 1st degree burglary. Hart was raised about a mile from Camp Scout. Hart was a member of the Cherokee Nation.
         Hart was tried in 1979. Although the local sheriff pronounced himself “1000 percent” certain that Hart was guilty, a local jury acquitted him. 
         As a convicted rapist and jail escapee, Hart still had 305 years of his 308-year sentence left to serve in the Oklahoma State Penitentiary.  
          On June 4, 1979, two years after the murders, Hart collapsed and died of a heart attack at the age of 35, after about an hour of lifting weights and jogging in the prison yard. 
          Following the murders, Camp Scout, which opened in 1928, was closed and is no longer used today. 
In recent years, there has been efforts to do DNA testing on evidence found at the crime scene, but no new evidence has been found.
          After Hart was acquitted, no one else has ever been convicted of the crimes. 
         I attended Camp Garland, a Boy Scout camp about five miles north of Camp Scott, from 1972 to 1976.   So, when the murders took place, it really hit home.
          In addition, my dad had family members who lived near both camps. 
        In the years since, there has been a number of books written about the murders including Shattered Justice: The Oklahoma Girl Scout Murders by J.D. Morrison; The Camp Scout Murders: The 1977 Murders by C.S. Kelly; The Usual Suspect by Gary Pitchlynn; Tent Number Eight: An Investigation of the Girl Scout Murders and the Trial of Gene Leroy Hart by Cloyd McCoy; Someone Cry for the Children: The Unsolved Girl Scout Murders of Oklahoma by Michael Wilkerson and The Girl Scout Murders: A True Story of Violent Death and Indian Justice by Charles W. Sasser.
         In addition to the books, there have been several documentary television shows made and aired. The latest, Keeper of the Ashes, aired on ABC/Hulu in 2022.
          In 2011, an ex-con named John Russell Penn was working on an indie film, Candles, and stated that he would reveal the perpetrator of the Girl Scout murders in the film. Penn, who was previously convicted of check fraud, claimed that the true killer admitted to the murders in a drunken stupor one night in 1978 while both men were detained in an Ottawa County jail cell. I don’t believe that film was ever finished.
          There is much more information about the case and investigation if you are interested in learning more. There is a website, Abandoned OK, that features photos and the history of Camp Scott. Another website to check out is girlscoutmurders.com. 
         There are many people, especially those in the Locust Grove area, who knew Hart and still believe to this day that he was not guilty. There are others who are convinced he is guilty. And after 49 years, the case still remains unsolved and there is still no justice for these three girls who lost their lives way too soon.      

        Route 66 was one of the stars of the day in my hometown of Tulsa, Okla.
In celebration of the 100th anniversary of Route 66, community leaders in Tulsa spearheaded the Capital Cruise on Saturday, May 30, breaking a Guinness World Record for the longest car parade with 3,596 vintage and historic vehicles.
        The record was previously held by Puerto Rico who in 2017 held a parade with 2,491 vehicles.
The event drew an estimated 100,000 spectators that lined the 5.5 mile route along the famous highway (11th Street) in Tulsa.
       According to news on the event from Tulsa, organizers said more than 5,000 vehicles registered for the event, with participants traveling from 42 states, Canada and France to take part in the record-setting parade.
        Apparently there were some traffic issues and not everyone was able to partake in the event. According to one Tulsa television station, there were some participants who were turned away at the gate due to bottlenecks and traffic jams on the routes leading to Expo Square (Tulsa State Fairgrounds) where the cars were staged.
        There were a lot of negative comments about the logistics of event on social media. Some folks were quite upset. Many car owners sat in their cars from two – four hours waiting to get into the fairgrounds. I’m sure If I drove a vehicle to Tulsa and was turned away, I’d be upset, too. I don’t know if anyone will have satisfying answer as to what happened.
          Derek Bieri, owner of Vice Grip Garage, a vehicle rescue business in Lewisburg, Tenn., and a member of the parade grand marshals, apologized to those who traveled to Tulsa and were unable to participate in the event.
       “I am deeply saddened, completely gutted, and ultimately embarrassed that thousands of you were denied the opportunity to participate in the world-record parade run and were turned away at the gate,” noted Bieri in a social media post.
        Other parade marshals included Tulsa Mayor Monroe Nichols, Route 66 historian and author Michael Wallis, Oklahoma Lt. Gov. Matt Pinnell and family members of Route 66 founder Cyrus Avery.
         Avery (Aug. 31, 1871 – July 2, 1963) was a businessperson, oilman, and highway commissioner who is noted for creating Route 66 as a member of the federal board appointed to create the Federal Highway System. He then pushed for the establishment of the U.S. Highway 66 Association.
        The lead vehicle in the event was a 1929 Tulsa Police Model A named “Justice.” The vehicle was completely burned and totaled in a massive shop fire in December 2025.
          Despite the setback, Tulsa Police Officers Charles and Samantha Ramsey bought the vehicle back from salvage and worked day and night for three months to rebuild it in time for the parade.
         “Their hard work paid off, and the fully restored “Justice” successfully lead the pack of cars in the parade” noted parade officials.
           Other vehicles  included the “Herbie Love Bug 53,” “Ghostbusters,” the “1966 Batmobile,” Jurassic Park,” and a replica of the “Back to the Future” car.
The final car in cruise was an authentic, Route 66-era 1937 Oklahoma Highway Patrol vehicle.
The Admiral Twin
          The Admiral Twin is a historic twin drive-in movie theater in Tulsa that celebrated 75-years with a double feature of “The Outsiders” and “Cool Hand Luke” on Friday, May 29.
             The “Outsiders” was a movie made from a book with the same name by Tulsa author S.E. Hinton, who attended my high school, Will Rogers. I’ve never met Hinton as she’s about 15-years older than me. I have reached out to her for an interview without success.
            Writing about the Admiral Twin reminds me of a story I heard from Iowa City author Larry Baker. Baker was a guest speaker at the 2015 All-Iowa Writers’ Conference held in Montezuma.
            In the late 1960s, Baker lived in Tulsa and was the manager of the Admiral Twin. He shared a story about the time that a dead body was discovered in the women’s restroom after a movie goer complained of a smell in the toilet.
            Baker wrote about the incident in his book, “Flamingo Rising,” which fictionalizes a true event as the Admiral Twin is never mentioned.            
            After consoling with his family, who helped run the drive-in, Baker wrote that it was decided to wait until everyone had cleared out before moving the body from the women’s restroom to her vehicle, a 1968 Ford station wagon, dark blue with fake wood siding. The dealer tags were still on the vehicle’s window.
           “If the police are called with this woman on the toilet, she has died on our property,” Baker wrote in his book and noted in sharing his story. “If they are to investigate a dead woman sitting in her car, then she has died on her own property.”
           Several hours had passed from her discovery and rigor had set in until family helped move the body. 
        “She will be stiff, but she will be stiff in the sitting position. Makes it easier to slide her back under the wheel,” Baker went on to write.
         The book goes on to share about how the family successfully moved the dead woman to her car and then called the police to investigate.
          “Logic was not my strong suit,” Baker wrote when I reached out to him about the event. “I rationalized it by thinking that I was doing her a favor, so that her family’s memory of her death would not become a bad joke (dying on toilet, etc.).”
           I guess there are stranger things in life.
The Blue Whale
           A couple months ago I wrote about the Blue Whale on Route 66 near Catoosa, northeast of Tulsa.
          On the afternoon of May 30, a groundbreaking on a $2 million upgrade to the iconic Route 66 roadside attraction was held, which included construction of a new visitor’s center, new neon signage, expanded parking and updated restrooms.
      There’s lots going on in the Tulsa area and all along Route 66 in celebration of the highway’s 100thbirthday.
          Next time Debbie and I are in the Tulsa area, we plan to stop and check out the new updates and maybe pick up a new T-shirt of the Blue Whale.
          Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

      The antique rock crusher at the Midwest Old Threshers Reunion has been a people pleaser for 40 years, drawing steady crowds to watch and learn as the machine clanks and churns, turning limestone boulders into gravel.
       With several demonstrations held daily during the annual reunion, which takes place in Mount Pleasant over a five-day stretch ending on Labor Day, volunteers Fred Fleming and Mike Dietze work like a well-oiled machine, tossing limestone into the rock crusher.
The two men, both from the Lincoln, Neb., area, have been attending the reunion since 1982. They typically arrive at the reunion grounds about a week early to help set up the stationary gas engine area. Part of that involves helping other volunteers haul rock from a nearby quarry to use in the crusher demonstrations.
Adding a crusher to the display
      Built by Wheeling Mold & Foundry Co., Wheeling, West Virginia, Mt. Pleasant’s rock crusher was donated to the Old Threshers association in the 1970s. The Wheeling firm was established prior to 1900; the crusher was likely built between 1910-1930. At some point, one of the crusher’s flywheels was replaced with one from Universal Crusher Co., Cedar Rapids.
      In 1977, stationary gas engine collector Louis Tuller, Mount Pleasant, and his son, Barry, now of Stevensville, Mich., first demonstrated the crusher belted to their 7hp Hercules engine.
     The crusher was a good fit for the reunion. Once commonplace on the farm, crushers were used to pulverize limestone, which was then applied to the fields to adjust soil acidity. Crushers were also used to supplement farm income, processing rock for use in making concrete and road construction.
       The Tullers are familiar names at the reunion. Barry, who grew up in Mount Pleasant and graduated from high school in 1977, was taken to his first reunion as an infant. He’s missed only one show since. “We got our first gas engines in 1974 and have exhibited every year since,” he said. Louis served on the Old Threshers Board of Directors from 1978 through 2014, and Barry served as gas engine area coordinator during that time.
Fairbanks-Morse Model Z: Farm workhorse
       The rock crusher was an instant hit with reunion attendees. Hoping to enhance the display, the Tullers began looking for an engine to pair with the crusher for a permanent display.
      The two had a conversation with Milo Matthews (since deceased), an original member of the Old Threshers Board of Directors. “He offered a 1920 Fairbanks Morse & Co. 10hp Model Z for the display,” Barry said.
      Based in Beloit, Wis., Fairbanks-Morse was the largest producer of flywheel gas engines in the U.S., with earliest examples dating to the 1890s and continuing until at least the 1970s. The Z line featured volume governing for extra smooth operation. Production of the 10hp Z began in 1916. By the mid-1920s, 400,000 Model Z engines had been built.
        The 10hp Model Z powering the Old Threshers rock crusher is typical of engines once used on the farm to pump water, shell and grind corn, and run elevators and hay presses. Well-built and reliable, the engines were priced right and the company maintained an efficient distribution network.
         Today, the Model Z remains popular among collectors. “Many Fairbanks-Morse “Z” line engines have throttling governors, this one included,” Barry added. “A butterfly valve connected to the governor controls the air/fuel mixture to the engine. The engine is a typical 4-cycle, so it fires once for every two revolutions of the flywheels. The throttling governor is similar to that used on cars that use carburetors.”
         In the summer of 1978, Barry and his dad hauled the engine from Milo’s farm to the Old Threshers grounds and began work on combining the unit with the crusher. “To accommodate the crusher, a steel platform was fabricated and welded by Lloyd Widmer (another early member of Old Threshers board) to the Fairbanks-Morse cart,” noted Barry. “We had a cooling tank made for the engine and found a pump to circulate the water. The engine was cleaned, made functional and the whole outfit was painted.” The rock crusher and Fairbanks-Morse engine were demonstrated multiple times a day at the 1978 reunion.
Comedy pulls in crowds
        Mike and Fred got involved with the rock crusher demonstration in about 1990. “It’s the people I enjoy being around,” Mike said. “I don’t want to watch the parade. I’m the guy who wants to be in the parade.”
      A few years back, Fred (known at Mount Pleasant as “Stoney”) and Mike (“the Crusher”) dressed in old-time black-and-white prisoner uniforms and took part in a skit. With the aid of the show’s North Village sheriff and deputies, the two convicts boarded the steam train at the station and were taken to the North Village, where they were marched to the rock crusher in the gas engine area.
        “We (each) had a pair of handcuffs that were held together with twist ties,” recalled Fred. “The sheriff would blast our handcuffs with a shotgun, we’d pull our hands apart, start the rock crusher and go to work.”
       On occasion, the duo would try to “escape” during the skit, often taking a hostage from the audience of onlookers. “It was fun,” Fred said. “After that, they (the sheriff and deputies) would march us to the jail in the North Village, where we’d take part in a jail break and bank robbery skit with the North Village Gang.”
       The two men took part in the skit for nearly a dozen years before they retired from show business. “Mike and I got too old to keep doing the skit,” Fred said. “We were supposed to get shot and fall down, but that hurt too much.”
       To this day, even without the daily convict skit, the duo continues to entertain large crowds with daily demonstrations of the rock crusher and visit with those who want to learn more about stationary gas engines and how they changed the face of farming and industry.
     “We enjoy a lot of camaraderie,” added Carl Thompson, director of the Mount Pleasant gas engine area.
Making hard work easier
       The rock crusher was the first big display the Tullers got involved with in the gas engine area. Later they helped with the Farm Powerhouse, Threshing with a Gas Engine, Fairbanks Morse Diesel Generator (Museum A), Gas Engine Woodshop, Large Engines (including a 35hp Olin and 15hp Reid), and the Marvin Mill (Museum B).
       All were important projects at a show that puts a priority on working displays. “It shows how simple machines like the crusher made work much easier,” Barry said. “It has always been a popular exhibit; people ask to see it run.”
      None of it would be possible without the small army of volunteers who bring their engines and donate their time to make it all happen. “I really enjoy the gas engine hobby, getting to show and talk engines,” Barry said. “But the Mount Pleasant show is really a reunion, and it is great to get together with family and friends and enjoy the week. I grew up coming to the show, and now my kids have done the same. It is a special show and we look forward to it every year.”
       Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

        I haven’t been for a while, but I do enjoy fishing. I would much rather go fishing than hunting.
       My friend Rob and I used to go fishing all the time back in the day. Rob had an uncle that had a nice piece of land southeast of Tulsa near Coweta.
      The property featured a good size pond stocked with bass, crappie and snakes. The biggest bass I ever caught, a 3.5 pound beauty, was caught on that pond.
       His uncle also had a cabin on Grand Lake in northeast Oklahoma between Tulsa and Joplin. Often times, we’d make the trek to his cabin and would spend the day on his uncle’s boat dock catching fish and drinking Pepsi.
        We’d stop at a deli and pick up a sandwich, chips and some worms for our fishing trip.
        The fishing trips provided lots of great memories.
         I need to get back on the water again this summer and try to reel in a big one.
        Anyway, I’ve never tried my hand at noodling for catfish. Noodling is the art of catching monster catfish with your bare hands.
        There are 17 states that legalize noodling. Iowa is not on the list. There’s been efforts as recent as 2025 to legalize noodling in the state. Any type of noodling bill typically gets shot down primarily due to conservation efforts and from safety groups.
         The concerns are that noodling targets large fish guarding their nests in the spring and summer months. In addition, conservationists argue that removing these trophy-sized fish depletes the gene pool needed for healthy procreation. And lastly, reaching into dark, underwater cavities and riverbeds exposes participants to potential injuries from struggling fish, underwater debris and other hazards. 
       However, noodling is common in my native state of Oklahoma. In fact, the state is home to the Okie Noodling Festival and Tournament held Father’s Day weekend in Pauls Valley, Okla. Pauls Valley is off I-35 south of Oklahoma City.
         This year’s event is slated for Saturday, June 20 and marks the 26th anniversary of the tournament.
         The event features family-friendly activities such as an inflatable kid’s zone, mechanical bull, watermelon crawl, the Okie Noodling Queen pageant, food trucks, live noodling demos,  and a kid’s catfish-eating contest.
      Anywhere from 70 – 100 noodling competitors compete at the event, which draws more than 6,000 spectators.
        There are various divisions of noodlers from youth to adults. Catfish can weigh 50 plus pounds and up into the 70-pound range.
         Last year’s winner, Phierce Williams, 14, who comes from a family of noodlers and had been featured on social media, caught a 53.5 pound flathead catfish, winning both the youth and adult divisions.
        According to info on the sport, noodling is an adrenaline-pumping method of hand-fishing primarily used to catch catfish. Anglers wade into murky waters, probe underwater crevices or hollow logs, and use their bare hands to provoke and wrestle the fish. It is an intense, primal practice steeped in Southern US folk tradition.
       Once a hold on a big catfish is found, the angler wiggles their fingers inside like a “wet noodle” to provoke the fish into biting their hand.
      When the fish clamps down, (usually on a thumb or fist), the angler wrestles the catfish to the surface fighting the animal’s weight and the water current.
     The best time to noodle is during the late spring and summer (May through July). This is the catfish spawning season, when the fish back themselves into holes to guard their eggs, making them highly protective and aggressive.
        It is suggested that you never noodle alone. Always have a spotter or partner ready to help pull you and the fish to the surface.
        It is also recommended that the angler checks the hole first. Submerged cavities are not just for catfish; they can harbor snapping turtles, beavers, and water moccasins.
        Large catfish have rough, sandpaper-like teeth that can cause heavy abrasions, and holding your breath for a prolonged wrestling match in deep water carries the risk of drowning.
        I’m not planning on going noodling anytime soon, but I might enjoy attending a noodling event to see how it’s all done.
         And another sport in Oklahoma that can send chills down your spine is rattlesnake hunting.
         There are several rural western Oklahoma towns that host massive, multi-day rattlesnake roundups and festivals each spring. These events offer guided snake hunts, snake-handling shows, carnivals and food stands that serve fried rattlesnake.
        I think I will stick to a tasty fried fish dinner with the fixings and skip the rattlesnake.
Remember that Good Things are Happening, every day and always.

​        For the last several months, my lovely bride, Debbie, has been taking care of me. I’m blessed to have a wife who has stepped up and taken care of things. 
          She’s also been doing a great job cooking and doing the dishes. Both jobs that I normally would do. 
        I prefer being in the kitchen and doing the grocery shopping and she prefers shoveling snow, working with the animals and being outside.
          For weeks, I’ve been requesting baked chicken and mashed potatoes. 
          Finally, the other day, I got my wish.
          I sat in my lazy chair, peeled the potatoes, and chopped them up and Debbie did the rest.
          Boy, those potatoes were good. And the meal was delicious.           
          It’s hard to beat Dayton’s smoked, baked chicken. All you have to do is pop it in the oven and heat it up.
          I admit, I’m looking forward to getting back on my feet full time and back into the kitchen.
          I love to cook and have been doing it for many years.
        Back in the day, I used to invite friends over for grilled pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and mushrooms and French bread all served with iced cold tea.
          Those were some great memories.
          I attribute my cooking skills to my mom. She was a great cook as was my grandmother. Grandma Horton could throw together a meal for a dozen people in less time than it takes some people to drive across town. She cooked in nursing homes and schools. With seven kids, she spent a lot of time at the stove. 
          I remember going to my grandparents’ house and helping pluck chickens. I did not like that task at all. I would stand in the kitchen and watch my grandmother clean and prepare a chicken for a later meal in record time.  
          My mom was a great cook, too. I always enjoyed her cooking but never cared for her dressing. 
         I was probably about age seven when I asked my mom if she would cook me a turkey for Thanksgiving. So, she baked a turkey, made mashed potatoes and gravy along with a pan of dressing. For whatever reason, I did not care for her dressing. But I was required to eat it. I had to sit at the kitchen table with what seemed like a heaping pile of dressing. 
          I think it took me at least two hours to finish it.
        I never asked for dressing again. In fact, I enjoyed the dressing at school more than I liked my mom’s dressing.
         Outside of the dressing, there was always plenty of good food and I never went hungry. 
         My mom would get the Sunday paper. And she would spend several hours going through it and clipping out coupons. She had a billfold in her purse where she’d house all her coupons. Her Saturday shopping excursions were much more detailed than what Debbie and I do today. Often times, when shopping on Saturdays, Mom and I (and eventually my brother, Tom) would visit seven or eight grocery stores where she would religiously use her coupons to save money. She also collected S&H green stamps. She would take the booklets of stamps to the S&H green stamp store in Tulsa where she would purchase various merchandise. She also purchased dinnerware from another local grocery store using points she’d collected from the purchase of groceries.
          On my dad’s side of the family, my grandmother passed away before I was born. So, I remember many times going to visit my great-grandmother when she lived in Bartlesville, Okla. and later in Barnsdall, Okla.  
         One of my favorite things to eat at her house was her “homemade” biscuits. It was several years later when the family let me in on the secret. All those years, I had been eating canned biscuits!
           I’d love to find my mom’s homemade biscuit recipe. She made the best biscuits and coleslaw. And it was hard to beat her deviled eggs.
         Meals these days aren’t as elaborate as they were when I was younger. But I’m looking forward to getting back into the kitchen and fixing baked chicken, pork chops, mashed potatoes and all my favorite meals.
           Debbie is looking forward to that, too.
           Good things are happening, every day and always!