Shortly after Debbie and I were married in September 2004, I was invited to speak with aspiring journalists or those interested in a journalism career at my alum mater, the University of Missouri-Columbia.
     It was not the first time I had spoken at the university, but the previous times it was to a much smaller contingent of students in a classroom the size of a McDonalds dining room with desks scattered about. It was a much more personal attempt at showcasing what I did back in the day.
     But this time was different. The classroom, which I had sat through lectures in as a student, was much larger and filled to the brim with young people investigating a career in journalism or taking a class to fill a credit. The Agriculture Journalism program had a new director since I had left a few years earlier and he brought with it a more science-based focus to reporting. He was a former big city science reporter.
    One questions that I do recall was centered around where do people in small towns get their national news? I don’t remember my answer, but I suppose like those in big towns, they get it from the local big city television news stations, national and state newspapers if interested and the internet, which was much different in 2004 than it is today. 
      I wanted to do what I had done in the past, show photos and talk about my job. Those present may have wanted more and looking back, I may have flopped, at least in sharing how small town folks get their national news. I didn’t have an answer for every question thrown my way, but it was OK.
    I was more interested in talking about Uncle Ed’s dinosaur bone collection, Fred’s lawn mower repair service or what the local school board was doing than wondering where small town folks garnered their national news.
     Even though I’ve never been invited back, I do appreciate the experience and hope in some way that I shared something that helped a student become interested in community journalism. That has always been my goal in life to make others feel important through the pages of the newspaper or with a kind word or deed.
       When I went back to school, had I looked at what I didn’t know, I would have never gone. Instead, I tried to focus on using what I had and going from there. When I failed, which I did on numerus occasions, it gave me the opportunity to get up and go at it again.
       I’m proud of what I accomplished at MU. It was no small task going back to school in my 30s and earning a college degree in journalism.
      My parents grew up in the country outside of small towns in shacks by the road ditch or a farm field with a wood-burning cook stove used for supper and heat. They drew water from a well and used an outhouse out back. They toiled with their hands, working hot summer days picking cotton and harvesting corn by hand. 
       I was raised in a different world than they had. Thanks to my parents, I enjoyed many comforts like an air conditioner for those hot Oklahoma summer days, a toilet in the house, a telephone and a dishwasher, a luxury back in the day.
       They worked hard to make sure I had everything I needed from clean clothes with all the buttons, food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in. And they taught me the value of hard work and going after my dreams and not giving up when life handed me a challenge.
      When I got in trouble at school and got my backside spanked by the teacher, principal or dean, I got it a second time when I arrived home. Oh my, did that hurt! I danced around in the living room yelling while my mom used a paint stick to paddle my backside. I’m grateful for it all. It hurt my pride more than my rear.
      The point in all this is life is about learning. We don’t have to have all the answers and that is OK. All you have to do is give your best, face challenges head on, admit your mistakes, ask forgiveness when you miss the mark, don’t give up, go after a dream and every so often, try a new experience or challenge. It’s good for the soul!
       Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

       Outside of going antiquing with Debbie, one of my favorite past times is postcard collecting.
      I started collecting postcards about 10-years ago. To date, my collection has grown to more than 1,500 postcards, which I have neatly organized by state, city/town, person and subject in numerous three-ring binders in four-to-a-page archival sleeves.
     My collection consists mainly of postcards with family ties, such as where my parents grew up, went to school, visited on family vacations or lived. I also have an extensive collection of comical postcards from the World War II era and many that date back to the early 1900s, some of which were postmarked before my grandmother was born in October 1909.
    I mostly collect postcards from Iowa - Montezuma, Des Moines, Iowa State Fair and various state landmarks; Missouri - Lake of the Ozarks, Bagnell Dam, Mark Twain, Hannibal, Branson area, Table Rock Lake and Lake Taneycomo, Jesse James, Joplin, Boothell area of Southeast Missouri, Current River and more; Oklahoma - Tulsa, Will Rogers, oil wells, Oral Roberts, Route 66 and Oklahoma landmarks; South Dakota - Mount Rushmore, Black Hills, Corn Palace; Washington, D.C., Tennessee - Smokey Mountains, Nashville and Memphis; Kansas - Dodge City and various state landmarks; Niagara Falls - Canada and US sides; Grand Canyon, Arkansas, Mississippi River, hillbillies, military and outhouse comic postcards and more. I have also started collecting postcards of every Iowa town.
      Postcard collectors are referred to as Deltiologists. In one newspaper article I read, postcard collecting is the world’s second most popular form of collecting after stamps.
     According to an article by Barbara A. Harrison on the American Association of Philatelic Exhibitors website, Deltiology is the collection, study, and preservation of picture postcards for fun, recreation, relaxation, and enjoyment - and for the historical preservation of life in years past.
     “Many people collect because they are nostalgic or perhaps yearn for a time they never experienced,” Harrison wrote. “Antique cards give us a glimpse of the past; modern cards picture contemporary times. Antique cards tell us about social climate and life style, changes in transportation and business, and show us what existed before a disaster or a wrecker’s ball had its way. They remind us of places that are gone, or changed beyond recognition. They hold memories.”
    Even though I have been collecting for a while, I’m still learning about the art. Many postcards were designed by various artists, certain publishers and time periods and can have great value. Others are as valuable as the collector wishes to pay.
      For me, I like to pay from 50 cents to $2 or $3 each. I purchase many of my postcards on eBay and others I get at antique stores and flea markets. The most I have paid is around $11 for a postcard from Van Buren, Mo., the town where my mom attended high school.
      I also like to trade and have a gentleman in Des Moines who I trade with at the Old Threshers Reunion and What Cheer Flea Market. I give him postcards I don’t want and I dig through boxes of postcards I enjoy collecting.
      Postcard collector shows are held all across America. I’ve been to a smaller show held in early April in Iowa City, but have never been to a big show in such places as Chicago, Dallas, Kansas City, Wichita or Tulsa. I hope to attend one of the bigger shows in coming years.
       Each year I enter some of my postcards in the Iowa State Fair antique division in Pioneer Hall. I usually get a ribbon each year and enjoy that.
        And for the first time, I’m going to be giving a presentation on my collection at the North English History Center on Sunday, March 20 at 2 p.m. In late April, I will be giving a presentation on my collection at the Linn County Iowa Historical Society in Cedar Rapids.
       It’s good to have a hobby, no matter what it is. For me, it is fun and relaxing to dig through postcards at places such as the Brass Armadillo in Des Moines.
        Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

     My heart goes out to all those affected by weather in the recent weeks around our great nation. Meanwhile, here in Iowa, December 2021 was one for the record books.
     We’ve had temperatures spanning from the 70s to below zero, derecho winds of 70 plus mph, which included an outbreak of 42 tornados, the most ever on record for one day in Iowa. 
       In addition, there has been humid spring like days, rain, hail, thunder, lightning, sleet, freezing rain, snow, cold and about every other weather phenomenon known to man.
     Since moving to Iowa 24-years ago, I have enjoyed (tolerated) my share of winter weather. I remember being interviewed for the editor job at North English. When asked what one of my biggest concerns was, I said the winter weather. It hasn’t disappointed me either with piles of snow, ice, wind and blasted cold.
     I remember the time I drove from North English, where I lived at the time, to Princeton, Ill., to visit a friend. On my way home, I stopped at a Davenport convenience store to top off my tank. I picked up a Sunday paper and the fellow behind the counter cautioned me to be careful on my drive home.
       Being a southern boy, I didn’t pay much attention to the weather but soon wished I had. As I rolled along I-80 west, I ran head on into an Iowa storm front of blowing snow and icy roads.
       I was driving my Chevrolet S-10 pickup with a camper shell and no extra weight in the back for traction. It had to be the grace of God that I got home without sliding into the ditch, which was littered with vehicles and trucks, or hitting another driver. By the time I reached West Branch, where I stopped for a restroom break at the local McDonalds, I was literally shaking and my hands had imprints of the steering wheel on them from gripping it while driving. I’m surprised I didn’t pull the steering wheel right out of the dash.
     It was a two-for-two during Thanksgiving weekend 2007. I wanted to spend the holiday with family in Oklahoma that year. It was Thanksgiving eve and the weather south of Montezuma wasn’t looking good.
       I was insistent on leaving that night while Debbie explained to me about the weather front moving across the state. I paid no mind and we headed south, only to run head long into a storm front just outside of Ottumwa. It was snowing so hard that I couldn’t see much past my headlights.
       Anyway, we stopped for the night in Macon, Mo. I should have stayed home and left on Thanksgiving day. And that wasn’t the half of it. We got ready to leave on Sunday from Oklahoma. Debbie had been keeping an eye on the weather, cautioning me that it was in our best interest to stay another day.
       Well, in true stubborn J.O. fashion, we left and hit a snow storm in northeast Oklahoma and into Missouri. By the time we hit Joplin, Debbie was encouraging me to stop for the night. I was going to try and make it to Kansas City.
      We finally pulled over for the night in Nevada, Mo. on Highway 71, after watching a truck fly past us and slide off the road into a farm field and spin around a half dozen times.
    I’ve hit four deer since moving to Iowa, but thankful I haven’t been in any serious weather-related accidents, outside of sliding in the ditch a few times in my own driveway and getting stuck while trying to get my mail.
     I’m just thankful for my wife and that God has kept me safe and not sorry all these years. My advice to every man, listen to your wife. She is full of wisdom and much understanding.
    A New Year is upon us and I’m sure, like 2020 and 2021, the news will be filled with lots of untruths, rubbish and folks trying to tell you how to live your life.
    My advice for the New Year is to stick to your beliefs. America is still home to the free and the land of the brave. Pay no mind to the naysayers who offer ever-changing advice. Do what is best for you and your family. Have no regrets, live life to the fullest, don’t sweat the small stuff, dream big and go after your dreams. And most importantly, keep your hands to the plow and don’t look back.
     Happy New Year everyone!
     Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

         It was sometime in the late 1980s.
       I was working as an assistant route manager in the circulation department at the Tulsa World and Tulsa Tribune newspapers in my hometown of Tulsa. My job was to make sure the morning and evening newspapers were delivered to the customers on time. 
      There was gentleman that I befriended who I met in one of the apartment complexes while delivering newspapers. He was kind man who lived alone.
       He may have been a Veteran. He had a hard life that included dipping into the bottle.
       At some point during his life, he was a photographer. 
    Later on, he gave me some of his darkroom equipment he had in a storage building and some old negatives that I still have stuffed in a book.
      Anyway, I don’t recall the year, only that it was a few days before Christmas. I knew he was low on funds. I stopped at a local grocery store and bought him a few groceries. I think there was flour, sugar, salt and pepper, bread, canned foods, coffee, bacon and potatoes. The necessities.
    I pulled up to his apartment, which was street level. I knocked on the door and he opened it, inviting me inside.
    “Ho, Ho, Ho,” I said. “Santa brought you a gift,” I added while unloading the groceries and sitting them on his kitchen table.
     Almost in disbelief, he put his burly arms around me and gave me the biggest bear hug I have ever had as tears welled up in his eyes.
     I knew he appreciated it and it gave joy to my heart to do something good for this man.
    I don’t know what happened to him as that was nearly 35-years ago. It was one of those moments in my life that I will never forget.
    I’ve reached out to many people in the years since, but that one experience lives in my memory. 
    And I’ve had people reach out to me along life’s way.
   I remember when I was college at the University of Missouri-Columbia. I had stayed up half the night studying and was home in my duplex sleeping when the phone rang. It was a colleague at the university who called to let me know that his church had taken up an offering and they wanted to give me $100. “How can I get this to you?” he asked.
    I met him at the university later that day. What a blessing. It was enough money to buy a pair of much-needed new shoes.
    That reminds of the importance of doing good for others and finding the positives in life. They are there. Sometimes you have to do a little digging.
     That’s the theme that Debbie and I are taking with us into the new year.
Make 2022 the best year yet
     With the new year on our doorsteps, here are some tips to make 2022 the best year ever.
   • No matter your background or experiences, you can turn your life around in 2022 and change the direction from negative to positive. 
    • Your dreams are possible – just don’t give up, no matter what has happened or what others say or think about you.
    • Your past is not your future.
    • When challenges come, just keep on walking. 
    • When negative thoughts come, and they will, take a moment and turn off your mind. Shut off your phone and the internet and think of one good thing in your life that has happened. It could be something as simple as a goal you reached or an honor you received along the way. It can be anything, big or small. Write it on a piece of paper and start dwelling on it. I guarantee you will start remembering other good things that have happened to you. 
    • Read positive things. I like the scripture in the Bible and daily words of encouragement.
  • Do something good for someone else. It could be as simple as taking a few moments to stop at a neighbor’s house and check on them. Maybe they need the yard mowed or an errand run. Ask or offer your help. I’m sure they will invite you for a glass of iced cold tea and a snack.
   • Turn off the news and find something good to focus on. I call it a stress and worry reliver. You don’t have to know everything that is going on in the world or who said this or said that. These people are not in charge.
    • And most importantly, say thank you and please.
    • Get involved in a neighborhood group or a cause that helps others.
    • Host a fundraiser and give the money to a worthy cause that helps others.
    • Go out in the new year and make a difference in your life, your neighborhood, school, church, job, grocery store, mall, restaurant and even at the gas pump.
    Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

     ​I’ve shared through the years many Christmas memories in the Parker house. One that I don’t recall mentioning was the Living Christmas Tree at the First Baptist Church in Tulsa.
      The Southern Baptist affiliated church featured a large sanctuary and every year, the chairs in the choir loft were removed and the floor to ceiling Christmas tree was put into place.
       Choir members, dressed in their robes, would climb the stairs and fill the rows around the tree. The lights on the tree would come on and the sanctuary would come alive with the sights and sounds of the Christmas season.
       I sang in the choir as a youngster and I took part in one of the Living Christmas Tree productions while in high school. I am thankful it was not a speaking role. I think I carried gifts into the sanctuary.
       The church started the production sometime in the early 1970s and it went on for a number of years. 
As a youngster, I participated in RAs (Royal Ambassadors) at church, a group for young men based on the Boy Scout model with a Biblical perspective.
     Every fall, the RAs would take the church bus to the John Zink Ranch north of Tulsa. We hiked into the rugged woods and climbed rocky ledges. The day was filled with Bible study and topped off with a hobo meal of hamburger, onion, potatoes and carrots, which we made and cooked over open coals.
     As I got older, I enjoyed sneaking out of the Sunday morning service and spending time with the custodians on staff. I found a chair in the boiler room and visited with the custodians as the pastor preached on the radio.
       For a number of years, I helped out in the audio visual room with Mr. Ed on Sunday mornings. I helped take down the microphones after the service and a few times, I got to run the television cameras during the Sunday service.
      The church shared the cameras with three other churches in Tulsa. Each church used the cameras for three months and then they moved on to the next church.
      I remember one time while operating the camera on air I fell asleep during the service. Mr. Ed in the sound booth was un able to wake me from my slumber. It was kind of embarrassing.
         The church served a meal on Wednesday evenings and my mom, brother and I usually ate supper there. The rolls were the best part. They were so good with butter.
       When I got into high school, my good friend Rob and I would skip the church meal and walk several blocks to the Coney-I-Lander for three Coney’s with cheese, chips and a cold Pepsi. The restaurant featured old wooden school benches that served as seats. 
         Outside of church, I took piano lessons starting in the second grade. My cousin Mary Gail Jackson was my first teacher. I later took lessons from Mrs. Murry, who lived west of Downtown Tulsa. My mom saved money from babysitting and bought a piano for me to play.
I stayed with the piano at least through sixth grade, maybe a year longer, before losing interest. 
        I learned how to play Three Dog Night’s “Joy to the World,” and the Beatles’ “Hey Jude.” I also mastered Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus,” all of which I played in spring recitals.
        Looking back, I kind of wish I hadn’t given piano up. I often remind myself that it’s never too late to start again.
      Back to Christmas. It was my job each year to decorate the Christmas tree in my boyhood home. We always bought a live tree. I set up the tree, decorated it and placed the family manger scene at the base. I still have the manger and the figurines of Joseph, Mary, the Baby Jesus, the Shepherds and Wisemen, which my Mom bought at the local TG&Y Five and Dime store. I think she paid a dollar for the manger scene and no more than a dollar for each of the figurines.
       I entered some of the figurines in the antique division at the Iowa State Fair this year. I didn’t win a ribbon with the manger figurines, but did win four other ribbons for antiques I entered.
        Anyway, the manger is in rough shape these days. I’m hoping to have a local craftsman build me a new manger that looks similar. I have a lot of great memories and I hope your Christmas is filled memorable moments, too. 
         Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

      Growing up, I had a number of kitty cats. I gave them various names through the years. One I named Tiger and another I named Snowball. Snowball was almost pure white.
       Another cat I had was named Kittymaus Cat. I’m not sure on the spelling or even how I came up with the name. It was born with no tail and my parents got it from some friends at the First Baptist Church.
      A few years after marrying Debbie, we got our first dog. We promptly named him, Rex, after my aunt’s border collie. Later on, I figured out that Rex was actually the name of my uncle’s border collie. My aunt’s dog was Danny. I liked them both and have fond memories of being around them as a youngster.
       Five years ago, we purchased three mini horse from a family in Benton County. They are Sophie, Gazer and Harmony and are all precious to us.
     We have also had a number cats with names such as Smokey, Sooner, Gizmo, Hercules and Princess Buttercup. We have an outside Tom cat who keeps the mice at bay. We love the little fellow, who we affectionally named Oscar, because he loves to get into the dumpster. I enjoy giving him rub downs when he comes around.
       Anyway, I was driving home the other day listening to the radio when the announcer started talking about popular pet names. He referred to the top dog names for 2021, according to submissions from Rover.com readers. I checked it out and here some of the most popular pet names according to the website article. 
Top dog names
     Female: Bella, Luna, Lucy, Daizy, Zoe, Lily, Lola, Bailey, Stella, Molly; Male: Max, Charlie, Milo, Buddy, Rocky, Bear, Leo, Duke, Teddy, Tucker
Top cat names
     Female: Luna, Bella, Lily, Lucy, Nala, Kitty, Chloe, Stella, Zoe, Lola; Male: Oliver, Leo, Milo, Charlie, Max, Simba, Jack, Loki, Ollie, Jasper
     The article went to share the top trending dog names such as Grogu from “The Mandalorian” and Raya from “Raya and the Dragon.”
    And there are even celebrity-inspired pet names such as Bozeman, Chadwick, Oprah and Yeezy. And sports/Olympic-inspired names including DK, in honor of Seattle Seahawks wideout, DK Metcalf; Kittle, named in honor of San Francisco 49ers tight end, George Kittle. And my Kansas City friends should consider naming their next pet, Mahomes, in honor of the Chief’s quarterback. How about Gronk, in honor of former Patriot and Tampa Bay Buccaneers tight end, Rob Gronkowski? Based on what is going on with the Oklahoma Sooner football program, I doubt any fans will be naming their pets either Lincoln or Riley any time soon.
       The article also touched on space-themed names such as Elon, Solstice, Aster and Nebula. 
     We all love to eat, so why not a food-inspired name? The article suggested Caviar, Dijon, Baguette and Raclette. I’ve heard of Caviar and Dijon, but Baguette (a French bread) and Raclette. I’m not sure about that for a pet name.
       I would rather go with something more simple when it comes to food such as Porkchop, a name I used as a CB handle, or Blackeye Pea or Okra, favorite Southern foods I like. 
     I like Culver’s so I could name my dog, Culver. Other food names that come to mind are Taco, Popcorn, Frito, Ruffles, Oreo, all kind of catchy names.
     After rattling off all these names, Debbie shook her head and said, “I’m glad I’m the one who names the pets.”
     No matter what you name your pet, be sure to take care of them, especially with winter just around the corner. Make sure they have a warm place to sleep, food, fresh water and lots of love.
      Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

     A newspaper colleague of mine recently mentioned in his column about the old tradition of making horseradish sauce.
     “Though I was late to the process, there was enough horseradish hot air floating in the shed for me to tear up,” my colleague wrote.
      It piqued my interest as it seems not long after taking over as editor of the Montezuma Republican in July 2000, I heard about the now late Lew Lundy, the former and long-time superintendent at Montezuma, and friends getting together in his garage to make horseradish sauce. I had plans to write a story about the horseradish-making event, but it never happened.
      I don’t recall ever eating horseradish sauce nor did my family use it when I was growing up. There are several brands available at the grocery store, but it never has appealed to me.
      What has appealed to me is time with family this Thanksgiving season. We enjoyed a wonderful and blessed Thanksgiving this year and I hope you and your family did as well.
      We all met at my mother-in-law’s place north of Montezuma. Some cousins joined us from the rural New Sharon area and there was plenty of good food, including smoked turkey and ham, and all the fixings for all to enjoy. As with past Thanksgivings, the topics of the day touched on farming, politics and life’s ups and downs.
       In the afternoon, everyone enjoyed a slice of homemade pie. Some topped it off with a spoonful of ice cream or whipped cream. I enjoyed a slice of pumpkin pie straight from the pie pan. It was good!
      I also enjoyed taking a few naps throughout the day in one of the comfy recliners while watching football when I was awake. 
     And on Friday, much of the family made the trek to the Des Moines area to kick off Christmas shopping. I haven’t gone shopping on Black Friday in a number of years. That was back when stores opened at Midnight and before and people where running all over each other to save $2. It seemed different this year with most stores opening at 7 a.m. on Friday.
     I like the change. People were in good moods, holding doors open for others and treating others with respect. 
      I met and visited with a lot of nice folks as my family ventured from store-to-store.
We were leaving Target in Ankeny and I noticed this young worker whose job was wiping shopping carts off after they were used. As we left, I took a moment to thank him for the good job he was doing. Wiping carts off at Target it not a glamourous job and I’m sure folks rarely thank him. It seemed to put a smile on his face.
     While at Fleet Farm in Ankeny, I suggested to the cashier’s manager, who was sacking my items, that they give her a raise. “She’s one of my best employees,” the manager said.
     I hope that comment goes with a little extra on her paycheck.
    At another store in the outlet mall, I had to wait outside as only so many people where allowed in the store at one time. There’s a chill in the air and this young lady was outside doing her job. I struck up a conversation with her and we talked for a bit. I even said good bye on my way out the door.
    In another store, I thanked the cashier for spending his holiday working.
    “Someone has got to do it,” he said.
    Stores everywhere had signs looking for help. To me, that is why it is so important to say thanks and have a great day. There are a lot of people who give up time with their families to pay the bills and help others get what they need in life.
    And at the end of day, my family stopped at a sit-down restaurant for a meal. As we were leaving, I struck up a conversation with a couple in the booth next to us. They were nice folks and we had a pleasant visit.
    My dad was like that. He could strike up a conversation with a total stranger. It used to drive me nuts. Today, it doesn’t bother me a bit.
   When you meet someone, you never know what is going on in their lives. You don’t have to talk with everyone you meet or figure out every problem. But on occasion it is OK to say a kind word and most importantly, “Thanks!”
    Get out an enjoy life and make this Christmas season the best ever for you and your family.
Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

      Thanksgiving is a great time to reflect on our lives and the many blessings we all receive.
      I am most thankful for my wife, my family and for the many opportunities that have found their way to my door.
    I am also thankful for the people who have crossed my path and who I have made a positive impact on in some way with the talents God has bestowed upon me.
    My life has been rich because of it. Thank you for reading my stories and columns and looking at my photographs. Thank you for supporting this paper and sporting my work. It is much appreciated!
     I attended a Veteran’s Day program in Brooklyn last week. It’s a wonderful event hosted by the Brooklyn Ruritan Club. The guest speaker was Ray “Bubba” Sorenson II, the founder and creator of the original Freedom Rock, a 12-foot, 60 plus ton boulder on Highway 25 in rural Adair County and of the 99-county Freedom Rock Tour, which just wrapped up in September.
    Poweshiek County’s Freedom Rock, which is on the southeast corner of the courthouse square, was painted in August 2016.
       Sorenson shared the story of how it all started in 1999.
      The original boulder, which is located by a quarry on private property, was discovered in the 1960s. The quarry tried to lift it out, but broke the crane, Sorenson said. They finally were able to push it using several pieces of heavy equipment to near the highway, cutting a four-foot deep swath in the road as they moved it.
       In the years following, the rock became a place to paint graffiti by folks passing by. He said the rock featured Santa Claus mooning the world. 
      Inspired by the movie Saving Private Ryan, Sorenson asked his mom for $50 to purchase paint and supplies to paint one side of the rock in honor of the military. It grew from there and now is painted free of charge every Memorial Day holiday.
     Sorenson shared that while painting the rock some years back, a cavalcade of Viet Nan Veterans pulled up on their motorcycles.
       One of the Veterans approached Sorenson, asking if the group could spread ashes of their fallen comrades at the rock.
       Sorenson encouraged them not to do that, saying that it was quite windy and that people walked all around the rock. Instead, he suggested the bikers and veterans pour the remains into his green paint, which he applied to a helicopter on the rock.
     In the years since, Sorenson has added the ashes of many fallen veterans in his green paint.
       “I have some ashes in my truck right now,” he told the gathering in Brooklyn.
     He then shared a story of a father and son who showed up at the Freedom Rock. As the father videotaped the rock, the son, who he said was about age 3, walked up to the helicopter and put his ear to the rock.
       “Dad,” the boy said. “There’s people in that helicopter.”
     What’s amazing is that neither the boy or his father knew anything about the ashes that were added to the paint each year.
Freedom Rock Tour
      Based on Sen. Charles Grassley 99-county tour, Sorenson and his wife, Maria, came up with the idea to paint a Freedom Rock in every county in Iowa. At first, Sorenson said he thought the tour would get off to a slow start. In his first year, he had 16 communities across the state sign up. His first Freedom Rock was painted in 2013 in Pocahontas County. His last Freedom Rock was painted in Linn County in September 2021, an eight-year span.
       On Thursday, the day following the Brooklyn Veterans event, Sorenson announced that he would paint a 100th Freedom Rock at Adventureland Park. He told the gathering in Brooklyn that he wanted to end the tour with 100 rocks. Adventureland won the opportunity by bid with the proceeds to benefit two Veteran’s organizations. Sorenson said he plans to finish that rock on July 4, 2022.
     Sorenson has also painted rocks in other states including South Dakota, Nebraska and Missouri. He plans to paint rocks in Ohio, Illinois and Oklahoma. He also paints indoor murals and what he calls Liberty Rocks. And when not painting, Sorensen is an elected Iowa Legislator in House District 20 during the legislative session. Sorenson and Maria have three children.
        For more information on Sorenson and the Freedom Rock, visit the: thefreedomrock.com or check out the Freedom Rock on Facebook.
     I leave you with this, an old friend of mine once told me that, “If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for anything.”
       It's words of wisdom to keep in mind in the crazy days ahead in this world.
      Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

     I was strolling through the breakroom at work one day last week humming, “Hark, The Herald Angles Sing.”
      A co-worker heard me humming the song and asked, “Is that Christmas music?”
     “Yes,” I said.
     “Isn’t it a little early?” she said.
     “I’m just trying to keep up with Wal-Mart,” I replied as we chuckled.
   I love a good old rock and roll song and even a number of country hits, but there’s something about those old-time hymns that bring peace to my soul and memories of days past.
    I’ve mentioned the Jackson Family Christmas gatherings in the past, but every now and then, I like to reminisce again.
      My mom’s mother was a Jackson and her brother, J.B. Jackson and his wife, Rosemary, who he met in college, lived in a stately antebellum two-story home near downtown Tulsa.
      They raised four daughters, Mary Gail, Kay, Jan and June, all of who I remain in touch with to this day, thanks to Facebook.
      My mom said Uncle J.B. and Rosemary where the reasons she moved from Van Buren, Mo., following graduation in 1955, to Tulsa.
     The Jacksons had a furniture store in downtown Tulsa for years and later Uncle J.B. worked at the Tulsa Business School. My mom had a $2 bill and when she needed money, she’d give Uncle J.B. her $2 bill in exchange for a couple $1 bills. When she had enough money, she’d buy her $2 bill back. I kept the $2 and have it among my many family treasures.
     I’ve heard many stories my mom told about coming to Tulsa and the hardships she faced along the way. One story in particular she shared on occasion was about her waiting for the bus in front of an ice cream shop to go to work and not having an nickel to buy an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.
   Growing up, I never did without and most certainly had my share of ice cream cones through the years. Not one birthday or Christmas rolled past that I didn’t get a gift or two and lots of love. I’ll never know how my folks, who both grew up poor as a church mouse, accomplished so much in life with so little. I’m so blessed.
     My co-worker and I were talking about being poor and I was telling her that my mom often got an orange and apple for Christmas and Pepsi on the Fourth of July. I also shared the story about my mom getting sick when she was 12 and my grandpa carrying her to the doctor on a homemade bed on the back of the plow.
     “They didn’t have a car or truck,” I said, also sharing a story about my dad picking corn by hand. “They were poor.”
      “Do you think your parents thought they were poor?” my co-worker asked.
      “No,” I responded. “That was the only life they knew.”
      It’s a life that I have never had to experience and hope I never do.
      Eventually, my mom’s entire family had made the move from the Missouri Ozarks to Tulsa by the early 1960s.
     About mid-December, Uncle J.B. and Rosemary would host a get together for Christmas. Aunts, uncles, cousins and all came to celebrate Christmas and time with family.
       The large dining room table at the Jackson home was filled with food that spilled over onto the buffet and into the kitchen. If you went away hungry, it was your own fault.
     No matter if you arrived early or late, J.B. and Rosemary kept the door open, the coffee brewing and the love of God flowing.
      After an hour or two of the adults visiting and catching up, mostly because that was the only time everyone saw each other, we gathered around the grand piano and sang a number of old-time Christmas favorites.
      I don’t remember if we prayed before or after, but we always prayed. Each person received a mini songbook filled with old-time hymns. The Jacksons kept them tucked away in the piano bench.
     “Hark, The Herald Angles Sing,” was one of the songs we sang. Others included “Away In a Manger,” “Silent Night,” “O Holy Night,” “The First Noel,” “O Come All Ye Faithful,” and more.
      After we sang the dozen or so songs, Santa made a special visit and with the help of many elves, handed out gifts to all. Everyone, both young and old, received a gift.
      Soon, it was time to head home. There were lots of hugs and handshakes as everyone bid farewell and headed out the door. Such great memories.
     With the holidays around the corner, I hope you can give work and life a break and join your family for Thanksgiving and Christmas. May the holidays be filled with memories, good times and full stomachs. And while you are at it, take time to sing some of those old-time Christmas hymns. They have a way of soothing one’s soul. Blessings to all!
      Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.

 ​     The one thing life has afforded me is the opportunity to meet, visit and make friends with strangers. That happened earlier this month at a craft fair in Clarinda, in the southwest corner of the state.
    Debbie and I traveled there to sell our books at a popular craft fair that has been in business for 62-years. 
      Two older ladies stopped at our booth in the early afternoon and struck up a conversation. One of the ladies purchased Debbie’s first book, The Auctioneer, and was wanting to have it signed.
      Debbie had stepped away from the table. As we waited, I mentioned that my mother-in-law was 80 and still worked at the bank.
     “We are about that age, but we’ve been retired for a long time,” one of the ladies said as Debbie returned to the table.
      I said something to them about wanting to visit the Ax Murder House in Villisca while in the area, but that we didn’t get there in time to do so.
   One of the ladies pushed her mask down, rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t give them your money, it’s not haunted.”
    They went on to say that they had grown up and went to school in Villisca and neither of them had heard about the ax murder as youngsters. Both said they attended a Halloween party while in school when they had no idea that an ax murder had taken place there.
     “We noticed an ax over the door, but never gave it any thought,” one of the ladies said.
After high school, they traveled to Estes Park, Colo. to work for the summer. They were talking to someone they met the first night in Colorado and said they were from Villisca.
     “That’s where the ax murder took place,” this person said.
    “Ax murder, what ax murder?” they both asked. “We haven’t heard anything about an ax murder.”
     They called their mothers back home and asked about the murders.
    One of the mothers said, “Yes, there had been an ax murder in 1912. Relatives still lived in town (at the time) and it was a sensitive topic and we just didn’t talk about it.”
     Their mothers told them all about the murders and what had happened. 
     They were having a good talking about the ax murder house. It was no big deal to them. We had to chuckle at it all.
     Anyway, we stopped in Villisca on the return trip home. I noticed two cars filled with ladies parked by the house. They emptied out of the vehicles and headed into a barn-like building behind the ax murder house. Debbie and I figured they were spending the night in the house, one of the offerings available to visitors.
     Maybe we can tour the house the next time we are in Villisca. I don’t know if Debbie will tour the house, but I will.
      If you want to learn more about the ax murder house, visit http://www.villiscaiowa.com.
    We enjoyed our time in the area. The craft show, which is located in five buildings across        Clarinda, was great. We had a steady stream of customers all day. Many stopped to check out our books and some, like the ladies, stayed and visited a spell. 
    We spent Friday night in Shenandoah, home of the Everly Brothers, and enjoyed supper in an old train depot turned restaurant. They had good food, good prices and good service.
    We are looking forward to having a booth at the 2022 show and maybe while in the area, I can visit the ax murder house and get there early enough to look around the area more.
    Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day and always.