I read this to my father today - long after Father's Day has passed, but since he and Mom were with us I preferred to read it to him face to face.  My Dad is 85 this year.



Happy (belated) Father's Day Dad.

I wish I could have been with you, and Bill, and John on Saturday as you guys went out for an early Father's Day treat of a movie and lunch together.  I know this is exactly why you and Mom decided to make the move to Birmingham - to be closer to family.  I'm a little bit jealous that I wasn't able to join the Myers Men for that special outing, but I'm sure you guys really enjoyed that time together.

Maybe it's Father's Day, or it's just a reflection of my age - but throughout the day yesterday I found myself staring off into space for long periods of time, lost in my own thoughts.  One of my girls caught me by surprise in one of these "reflective moments" as I was sitting at the table waiting for dinner, and asked me if I was OK.  "Yeah", I replied, "Just tired, I guess".  I wasn't being dishonest, as Daphne and I were both pretty pooped after taking a long hike with Duke in the intense heat of the afternoon. But there was more going on in my head than just being in Zombie mode.  I was "time-traveling" through the years of my life - thinking back over all the places we've lived, and the things we've done.  And I suppose part of me was wondering how I've done in the "Father" category over all these years.  Will my girls look back on their lives with fond memories, or with regrets?   I've made hundreds of decisions over my lifetime that have changed the course of our lives to one degree or another.  And with each one of these decisions, there was no way I could possibly anticipate what the impact would be upon my family, or upon our future.  When you think about it, that's a heavy responsibility to bear, because every decision I make as a father will, in one way or another, have a direct impact upon my children and upon the course of THEIR lives.  Even though we've tried to involve the girls in the most important "course adjustment" decisions these past few years (and we've had more than our fair share of them!), we all understand that the final decision rests with me.  So with that backdrop in mind, I want to share with you my own reflections of my life, and the impact that your decisions have had upon me.

In 1950 you made the best decision of your life, and that was to marry Mom.  The two of you have been an awesome team all these years, and I know you'll agree that Mom has been the key contributor to all your major life decisions, just as daphne has been for me.

Somewhere around 1965 you made another decision that would influence not only every other decision you would ever make, but would have the greatest impact upon your five children as well - and that was your decision to entrust your heart and life to Jesus Christ.  Who could have imagined what that single decision would mean for all 7 of us?

In 1967 - I think - you made the decision to join Campus Crusade, and then to move from Oklahoma to California.  That decision not only affected our family, but also had an impact on Uncle Roger and Aunt Betty who followed your example in joining CCC, and then followed us from Tulsa to San Bernardino.  I find it interesting, now that I'm thinking about it, that each decision you made to follow the Spirit's leading affected more and more people beyond your own family.  There's a principle there somewhere.

In 1973 (?) you made the decision to accept Bill Bright's challenge to move your family to Kenya to direct CCC's fledgling African ministry.  And in 1974 six of us left Southern California for a whole new life of adventure in Africa.  While I was too young at the time (11) to understand the magnitude of a transcontinental move, I am so grateful that you, again, followed God's leading.  I know now that following the Lord often comes at a price, and in this case you were misunderstood and misjudged by Edith and maybe even Papaw.  Of course, all that changed when Papaw came to visit us in Kenya and saw the lives that had been changed through your ministry.   I can honestly say this move changed the lives of your children, as three of us met our spouses in Africa.  I look back on those first 8 years I lived in Kenya as the golden years of my life - years filled with excitement, and adventure, and friendships that would last a lifetime.  In fact, in November I will join with five of my closest friends from Rift Valley Academy for what has become an annual reunion.     I would never have met any of them had you changed your mind about the Africa move and decided to stay in California - and a compelling case could still be made that this would have been the safest and sanest decision.  But who ever said that God calls His children to be safe, or even sane?  I can't say for certain of course, but I would say that if you and Mom had simply stayed in California back in 1974, my life might have taken a dramatic turn towards rebellion, drugs, or some other life-destroying addiction.

And so, while there have certainly been many, many hardships, financial challenges, life-threatening accidents and illnesses, the loss of many friends and family members, and innumerable smaller incidents that have undoubtedly broken your hearts - I can say with absolute confidence that God has always provided, always protected, always been our family's constant pillar of strength in a world of instability - and so have you.

Sasquatch and Market Research

You never know who'll walk through the door of our store.  A few days ago a market researcher named Rebecca was out hiking with her husband near Bailey.  They decided to check out our fine little town, and of course they stopped in at The Sasquatch Outpost.  Here's what she wrote in her blog when she got home (a little unsolicited publicity never hurts!):

A Bigfoot Tale

REBECCA'S SCOOP / 0 COMMENTS

Jun 10, 2015

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Last weekend, my husband and I ventured out on a short overnight hiking trip. After crossing through meadows of burnt trees, hiding from a surround-sound lightning storm, camping at an old mining ghost town, spotting a batman squirrel and personally surviving 25 bug bites (yes, I counted), we crossed back into the world of humans. Since our back-country adventure was located right outside of the little town of Bailey, Colorado situated within the Pike National Forest, we stopped by a couple little stores to “see the town” before heading back home.

One of the places we explored - there really isn’t much else - was called The Sasquatch Outpost. It cohabitates in the same building as the local Country Store - a conglomerate of groceries & gear & any other random odd or end - and is completely specialized with sasquatch everything.

As a market researcher, one of the things in the store I loved most was the map of Sasquatch Sightings:

This Colorado state map is filled with location markers, each different pin color indicating one of the following in regards to Sasquatch:

• I saw one
• I heard one
• I saw tracks
• Other

Those “other” responses would sure be fun to code, right? Through my eyes, I saw market research in action - an effort to catch people in the midst of their experiences in Pike National Forest with a unique, interactive approach - almost like a game. I will say nothing of the accuracy of the responses though!

Apparently, Bailey is quite a magnet for Sasquatch sightings in Central Colorado. After our trip, we were talking with a friend who is a Search and Rescue volunteer in Douglas County. He mentioned that he most frequently heard of Sasquatch sightings in Pike National Forest during his time spent volunteering. Additionally, this news report not only features the Sasquatch Outpost when it originated a couple of years ago, but also the firm belief of local residents regarding the existence of Sasquatch or Bigfoot or whatever it is that people want to call him/it.

And from The Sasquatch Outpost website itself:

“It seems that Bailey is a mecca both for Sasquatches (sp?) and for Sasquatch Seekers! There have been a large number of credible (you're laughing, I know) reports of sightings all around Bailey in the past 2-3 years, so much so that last October the Animal Planet show "Finding Bigfoot" came here to film a town hall meeting.  … So, do I believe in Sasquatch?  Absolutely.  My friends and family make fun of me, but I cannot discount over 30,000 reported sightings across the United States as ALL being hoaxes or mistaken identity (bears impersonating Sasquatch, for example). Until the day when real, hard proof surfaces we'll have fun printing Sasquatch T-shirts, mugs and bumper stickers.  Why don't you stop by and pick up some Squatch Souvenirs!”

Talk about knowing how to take something unique to your marketing advantage! I think we can all learn a lesson from The Sasquatch Outpost. A successful business plan revolves around knowing who your audience is - in this case, the "Sasquatch Seekers", whether they seek in jest or in seriousness. Furthermore, capitalizing on something fun about your company or location or personality is a fantastic way to attract not simply attention, but even more importantly, involvement. Like we learned in my last post, involvement = remembering and learning. Involvement makes an impression. Whether skeptical or believing of what you offer or claim, everyone appreciates a good time and an effort to stand out from the crowd.

And if ever you ever happen to pass through Bailey...keep an eye out for Bigfoot!

A life of Adventure

Daphne and I enjoyed a quiet breakfast for our 24th anniversary on Monday, and we were served by our beautiful daughter - waitress Nicole, who's working at Kenosha Cafe this summer to earn money for college.  We were alone in the cafe for maybe 30 minutes before other customers arrived, which was a good thing as I wanted to tell Daphne something important.

For those who don't know our story, prior to getting married I went through a period of cold feet... well, rock-hard frozen feet is a better description... to the point that Daphne gave me back her engagement ring and told me to make up my mind.  I can't really describe how hard this was for her, as she'd re-arranged her entire life in preparation to marry me - and now she was facing even giving up our relationship as well.  It took several weeks and God breaking into my world in a supernatural way for me to understand where my fears were coming from.  In short, I was afraid of failure.  I was leading the CCC ministry in Senegal at the time.  I was a new leader and pretty insecure in my role.  The Lord helped me to realize that I was living in the fear of what "might" happen; that Daphne would join me in Senegal, that it would be too hard for her to adapt to the culture, learn French, make a whole new set of friends (yikes, what was I thinking!!!) and that we would have to leave - and I would be a failure.  Here's what the Lord said to me: "I want you to marry Daphne.  If, for whatever reason, Daphne can't cope and you have to leave, then it's because I have a better plan for you and your family.  Don't be afraid - go ahead in faith."

Looking back now, (and this is what I told Daphne over breakfast on Monday) I realize that my fears were totally unfounded, because I married the most adaptable, hardy, faith-filled woman on earth.  She didn't just survive, she thrived - and we enjoyed many wonderful years of ministry in Senegal.  On our wedding day 24 years ago, I couldn't promise her we'd ever be wealthy or famous, but I did promise that we'd have a life of adventure.  I asked her if I made good on that promise, and her reply was, "Well, let me see... lived in three countries, on three continents, had four nationalities, speak three languages, have three beautiful daughters, and we're now running a crazy little store called the "Sasquatch Outpost" in the Colorado mountains... yeah, I'd call that I life of adventure!"   And it's not over yet

Forever

     My dear friend Sean Renfro is gone.  He was killed on January 3 while assisting a stranded motorist during a snow storm.  Sean was a Sergeant with the Jefferson County Sheriff's Department, and even though he was off-duty that frigid day there was no question that he and his friend Sam would pull over to help when they saw that a car had slid off the road and into the side of the mountain.  Sean and Sam moved the occupants of the damaged car into their truck to stay warm, while they stayed outside to wait for the Highway Patrol to arrive.   One small, seemingly insignificant decision to stand outside, and life would change forever for Sean's wife and four children.  Huddled in front of the truck to stay warm from the heat of the engine,  they never even noticed the SUV that came spinning out of control on the ice, jumped the median, and slammed straight into their vehicle.

Sam woke up in a snow bank.  Sean woke up in Heaven.

     The first Sean's wife Crystal knew that there was a problem was when Sean's Captain arrived at her door with the terrible news: Sean had been killed.  No discussion.  No alternate endings.  Just....gone.

The hours (and now days) that followed have been a blur.  I've been doing my best to help Sean's wife Crystal, his Mom Linda and their family to work through the hundreds of details that follow a death - informing family and friends, arranging a funeral, picking a gravesite.  Every decision is gut-wrenching but absolutely necessary.  Waves of grief come unexpectedly and inconveniently.  The initial shock has begun to fade, only to be replaced by a deep weariness and resolute sorrow.  Sean isn't coming home to take care of all this.  Ever.  There's no option for Crystal to just give in to her grief and hide.  There's just too much to do - too many decisions to make.  I watch how the kids deal with the loss of their Dad; It's as though God gives them a supernatural ability to step outside their life and the crushing grief for a time, because it's just too much to handle. They play, they watch TV, they talk with their friends.  I know it will all come crashing down sooner or later, but not now.

What makes all of this so much harder.... so impossibly harder.... is that Sean's Dad passed away almost exactly one year ago, on January 9th.  They haven't even worked through one load of grief when another, even greater one has hit them.  Each of the kids have asked me the questions that preoccupy their minds:  Can we keep the house?  Will we have to move?  Can we stay in the mountains?  I have no answers.

I am amazed by the strength I see in all of them - Sean's wife Crystal, his Mom Linda, his sister Heather, Crystal's folks and her sister... they are showing so much courage, and I'm so proud of them. There's a million things to work through for this funeral: Sean will be honored by a full military-style procession by the Sheriff's department, with an honor guard, three gun salute and all the pomp and circumstance.  And this is how it should be, because Sean was a cop's cop - a man of honor, a man who stood for the truth, a man who gave his life to protect others.  The Sheriff's department and all the victims advocates have been truly awesome - and I am so, so grateful for all their help and support for Crystal and her family.

I want to write more about my love for Sean as a friend, but I'll save that for later.

Anyone reading this post can make a donation to help Sean's family by going to the link below.  We are grateful for the amazing outpouring of generosity from across the country.

www.gofundme.com/jocxks

The courage to speak the truth

I am re-posting a blog written by a good friend of mine.  I am posting it here because I believe it describes in brief what Daphne and I - and scores of others - have experienced in our former church, but written honestly and I believe graciously.  My friend has given me much food for thought, and as a result I've begun to write down some of my own reflections - some very similar to his, but many quite different as our level of exposure to the harmful behavior he describes was far more personal and intense.  There has been a blanket of silence among former church members, mainly due to an intense level of fear and intimidation that is, in and of itself, very revealing.  I believe my friend's courageous reflections have opened a floodgate of pent-up emotions for many people, and his blog has had upwards of 600 hits today alone.

 "Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap" 
 Galatians 6:7,
 

Anyway, here's what he wrote:

An Open Letter To My Former Pastor

Posted on November 4, 2014 by Romans8:28

A few weeks ago I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. We attended the same church for a couple of years and while we weren’t close, I think we would both agree that we shared a special bond because we were baptized together.  But one day she just stopped coming.  I wondered what had happened to her, but honestly the church was in turmoil and not long after she left I did as well.  It was great to see her and we talked for quite a while but what she had to say was heartbreaking to hear.
She told me that when she found the church she was recovering from an abusive relationship and that while she hadn’t been a Christian, she found meaning and a new purpose in her life. She accepted Christ, was baptized that day and decided to devote her life to serving God.  But then something happened, she wouldn’t elaborate any more than to say that she had been offered a staff position at the church but as she prepared to quit her job and devote her life to God, promises were broken and she was viciously rejected.  She said that she was verbally assaulted by the pastor and he told her that he didn’t owe her anything and if she didn’t like it, she could leave.  She told me that after that she tore up her baptism certificate.  She said that she couldn’t believe that any God would allow someone like that to represent Him and that she has no faith in God or the church.  She said that she didn’t need God before and she doesn’t need Him now, and she will never set foot in another church again.
I could see the pain in her face, and I didn’t know what to say. What could I say?  I had recently left the same church after seeing some dark revelations of my own.  In the last year I got a close look “behind the curtain” and I didn’t like what I saw.  It ranged from irresponsible and negligent to dishonest and immoral.  So like my friend, I left, appalled at what I had seen and like her, I was treated badly on my way out.  Honestly I am ashamed and embarrassed that I had been a part of it for so long.  But unlike her, I grew up a Christian, my faith in God was unbroken but my trust in those who represent him was badly damaged.  I can differentiate between the two of course, I know God’s word is true and he will never forsake me.  But I made the mistake of putting my faith, for several years, in a man and I allowed that misplaced trust to blind me to what was really going on.
I told my friend that I was very sorry for what happened to her. I told her that what she experienced and the pain she endured was not from God and that the way this man treated her was not God’s way.  I told her that I hoped that one day she would find peace with it all and trust God again; He loves her and still wants to have a relationship with her.  I told her that “that church” was a poor representative of what church is supposed to be.  He said the right words on Sunday but didn’t live the message.  She appreciated my words but I could tell that she’s not ready to trust again, and I don’t know if she ever will be.
So what would I say to my former pastor?
People matter to God, and they should have mattered to you.
Sure, your church helped people but there were strings attached and you always kept score. If anyone crossed you or left after receiving your “generosity,” you used your sermons to point out how benevolent you were for tolerating their ungratefulness.  You covered up and committed immoral and unethical acts and hid your true character and that of those around you.  Is that how a pastor behaves?  Is that how a Christian behaves?  Is that how a man behaves?  You, my friend, are a coward.
In 1886 James Freeman Clark wrote a fantastic essay on “manliness” and this excerpt sums it up well:
Lies usually come from cowardice, because men are afraid of standing by their flag, because they shrink from opposition, or because they are conscious of something wrong which they cannot defend, and so conceal. Secret faults, secret purposes, habits of conduct of which we are ashamed, lead to falsehood, and falsehood is cowardice. And thus the sinner is almost necessarily a coward. He shrinks from the light; he hides himself in darkness. Therefore if we wish to be manly, we must not do anything of which we are ashamed. He who lives by firm principles of truth and right, who deceives no one, injures no one, who therefore has nothing to hide, he alone is manly. The bad man may be audacious, but he has no true courage. His manliness is only a pretence, an empty shell, a bold demeanor, with no real firmness behind it.
The last time I attended your church you made an interesting comment about introspection in your sermon and it was very telling. You said that you can’t look at yourself introspectively because it would destroy you. You implied that it is because you’re your own worst critic, but I don’t believe that explanation is the real truth.  I think you lack the courage to allow God to reveal your true self to you.  I believe that deep down you know that to look at yourself introspectively would destroy you because what you would see is not what God intended you to be.  Instead you would see a man who puts himself before God, a man whose gluttonous hunger and insatiable need for adoration and obedience overrides your obligation to do what is right.  A pastor who shamefully turned on his flock and rather than leave it to the wolves, you became the wolf and devoured it yourself.
You did the unthinkable, you ate your own.
You now commune with only a handful of loyal automatons, your congregation of over 700 souls long gone and only your “yes men” are left to worship you. Through your writing and social media you have created an inauthentic world that you describe as a hurricane that only you are strong enough to stand against.  And as you now publically converse with the storm that you created, you share your conversation with a ship of unknowing fools.  You spout your drivel to an online audience that sees only what you allow them to see. You silence any criticism, ridicule truth seekers and block those who know the truth.
I know you have suffered loss and pain throughout the massive crash of the church that you built. You lost your congregation, you lost friends, and you even lost your marriage.  But until you realize that you need to lose yourself, give your life over to God’s will and not your own, you will never achieve your true potential.  You say they left because they weren’t strong enough, weren’t committed enough, and didn’t have vision enough.  What you don’t see is that the church failed because you convinced the members to put their faith in you rather than in God.  You could never possibly live up to that standard, and you need to realize that they left because it was your church and not God’s church.
You do have amazing potential, you are a talented and inspiring speaker and I think you can still be the man God wants you to be. But you are going to have to first recognize the pain you have caused and the incredible damage you have done.  You may never be able to undo that damage but if you genuinely seek forgiveness, it will come.  For many it won’t come easily and it will take time, you will have to humble yourself and acknowledge your failures, but if you do you will be forgiven.  I have hope for you and there is forgiveness in my heart.
Ironically this experience has taught me something I’ve needed to learn for years. Over 15 years ago I was seriously wronged by another and while I often said that someday I would forgive, I also said that I wasn’t ready.  Well thanks to you that day has come.  I realize now that for all these years I have not been living as God would have me live, with forgiveness.  So in an odd way you have been the catalyst to help me find forgiveness, to let go of my bitterness and be free of its burden.  It has been a painful lesson to learn, but I thank you for it, and now I have another more important letter I need to write.

Car Wreck

I was going to the bus stop with Jacqueline this morning, she was driving, when we hit a patch of black ice and started to slide.  There was nothing I could do from the passenger seat except to tell her to take her foot off the gas.  She hit the brakes, we slid across the road, did a 360 and slammed into the hillside... then did a slow roll onto the side.  We were both very shook up, but Praise God no injuries.  Amazingly, several cars raced by and did not even stop.  A friend of ours thankfully pulled over, and there was an off-duty hwy patrol woman who flipped on her lights.  Even with her being there, cars were still racing by - and several of them started to slide and another truck did a 360 before he regained control.  We had to climb out through the passenger side window and drop down.  I am guessing there's a good chance the car will be totaled - the second one since Karine had her accident several years ago and totaled our first blazer.   Hard lessons learned for young drivers, but God was good and kept us from hitting another car or rolling down the opposite side of the highway where there's a steep embankment. 

Unbelievable

It's 2:00 am, and after tossing and turning for a fitful hour or so I finally got up.  Daphne and I just returned yesterday afternoon from a brief, but much needed, time away together.  Several months ago I'd purchased a Groupon for a hotel and spa in Crested Butte that seemed almost too good to be true - less than half price for the hotel room and vouchers for the spa.  I jumped on it, knowing that we REALLY needed to get away.  I told Daph that we can use it to celebrate our 23rd anniversary (back in June) and my birthday (last Sunday).

Fast forward to the present. 

The date finally arrived last Sunday for us to make our three-day escape to Crested Butte.  There was only one problem: we were literally out of money.  I had a pile of bills stacking up at the house that I couldn't pay, and the responsible part of me kept saying that I shouldn't be spending any money now... money we don't have ... just to go relax for a few days with Daphne.  But I bit the bullet, borrowed from Peter to pay Paul, and we took off.  It was a great, quiet time for the two of us ( I think we were the only guests at the hotel!).  I brought cash to pay for our gas and meals, since I didn't want to overdraw our bank account.  You'd think that after knowing God for nearly 40 years I would have learned to trust Him with all of our needs and just relax, but in the back of my mind was the nagging reminder of all the unpaid bills waiting back home.  We skipped a meal or two to save money, and decided not to use the spa vouchers since we couldn't afford the difference between our $30 vouchers and the $110 actual cost for a massage.  So we slept late, went window shopping in town (Daphne), did some fly fishing (Jim), and bought popcorn and snacks to eat while we watched movies in the hotel room.  It was great.  

On our way there and on our way home we talked about many things: about how we ever ended up running a country store in Bailey, Colorado - something neither of us had ever thought about or even imagined.   And we talked about some of our dreams and the things each of us is asking God for, but that we'd never shared with each other before.  Daphne is trusting God that one day I will sleep through the night and not be up at 2:00 am writing on my blog (no comment), and that our girls will all walk with God and marry men who will love them and lead them spiritually, and that she will grow to be a woman of faith - to believe God for impossible things.  I'm embarrassed to say that my requests are not nearly as spiritual or selfless as Daphne's - like asking God to give me a friend who owns a ranch and horses... someone I can go riding with, where I can satisfy the cowboy within me who's dying to get out.  Or that God will bless our store so that one day we won't have to struggle to make ends meet, and we'll be able to employ other folks who desperately need the work.  Or that we can enjoy a meal at the Steakhouse in Crested Butte, rather than just going for pizza.  Or that we'll earn enough so I can help pay my daughter's way through college so she doesn't have to work so hard.  At breakfast this morning Daphne made the timely comment that even though we've always been living by faith with our finances, we've had the privilege of living in and traveling to exotic places  that most people only dream about (and a few that most sane people stay away from).  She's totally right.  Like I said,  she's the more spiritual one of the two of us.

We stopped by the store on our way home to check on Dana (our friend and part-time employee), and she handed me an envelope that someone had dropped off for us.  I stuck it in my pocket with some other stuff and forgot about it.  As I got up this morning I was again thinking about our unpaid bills, and I remembered the envelope in my jeans pocket.  I opened it, and inside was a check for $700 and a note from some dear friends, "Use this in any way God directs.  We love you guys."  I began to weep, overwhelmed at such a direct, on-time provision from God through friends who had no idea of what our financial needs are.  He is intimately acquainted with all our ways, just like the Scriptures say.  Jehovah-Jireh.  God our Provider.

I'm off to try to get some more sleep before I have to drive Jacqueline to the bus stop at 6:30.

Settled in our new home.  It's much smaller than the home we had in Conifer, but seems to suit us better.  All three girls are with us at present, though Nicole will leave to had back to Chapman in a week - a sad day for all of us.  We love her dearly and miss her terribly when she's gone.  Karine will stay here until the weather turns worse and she'll need to be closer to Evergreen where she works, at which point she'll move back in (I assume) with one of her employers. 

We've had the country store for almost 14 months now, and thanks to the Lord and lots of help from friends the store is doing very well.  There were those who believed and said that we would never even get it open, but God had another plan.  We've met literally hundreds of people in the past 14 months who have enriched our lives and who have made our store a regular hang-out.  Even as recently as yesterday we had a French family come in who were passing through on their way to Salt Lake City, and we enjoyed 20-30 minutes of French conversation about all the things we miss about France, like the cheese, and the wine, and our friends.  It was like a breath of fresh air, and I loved every minute. 

Last weekend Daphne graciously ran the store while I went off with my band of Marauders to perform several reenactments for Living History Days in South Park City, a restored old west town and museum that's a perfect venue for gunfights.  And the Sunday before we performed in another small town called Hartsel for their annual festival.  It just so happened that our friends Lewis and Lacy Alexander were with us that weekend, and I somehow managed to convince them to join in with our reenactments.  Everyone agreed that Lacy made a perfect brazen hussy in her saloon girl attire :)
I managed to rustle up a couple of horses for me and another of our crew to ride in the parade, and when our guys at the front starting shooting off their revolvers and double-barreled shot-guns the horses did a pretty good rendition of the cha-cha.  When the parade was over I rode over to where our guys were waiting and said, "Next time, you ride and I'll shoot!"  The whole thing was a great deal of fun. 

Some of our group with other reenactors in Hartsel, Colorado.  Lacy's on the right.

Jim a.k.a. "Cherokee Jack"  Myers posing for a photo during the Hartsel parade

Lewis looks pretty B.A. if you ask me

Wild Frontier

The past few days have been exciting, challenging and crazy!

A New Home

First off, we've made an offer on a home, and it was accepted!  It's much smaller than our previous home (1800 sq feet vs 2900) but we wanted to downsize anyway.  It's located only 10 minutes from the store, and was built in 1999 - so hopefully there are no major issues.  We've done most of the inspections and we'll submit our inspection objections tomorrow.  The only real downsides are the steep driveway and no dining room to speak of.  It even has a hot-tub, which was one of my personal requests of the Lord, so I can get some relief during the bad nights with restless legs.  We're taking a calculated risk to buy the home, since we would not qualify for a home loan until we can show 2 years of profit from the store (and the store has shown no profit so far, which is the norm for small start-up businesses) which requires us to use IRA funds along with the equity from our home in Conifer.   Our home for the past six months has been the apartment above the store (and three storage units) which has worked out fine for the short term, but we've all been sleeping in one room which has it's definite drawbacks... I'll leave that one to your imagination.   The house was only on the market one day and already had one offer on it, so we had to jump on it to have any chance of getting it.   We'd already had three other homes that we were ready to make offers on (all of them on the market 3 days or less), and each time they were already under contract.  No question the housing market is heating up.  Our trust is in the Lord and His faithfulness.  God is good, all the time!

MYERS MARAUDERS

I've started an old west gunfighter reenactment group called The Myers' Marauders.  The whole idea came about last year when I invited another reenactment group to come perform on Bailey Day.  I wanted them back this year (June 14), but they were not available.  I started doing some research, recruited a few other guys who enjoy playing cowboy, and we're now in the process of joining the American Frontier Reenactment Guild.  The guild is very particular about the actors wearing authentic period clothing and using period guns - so I traded in my .357 for a replica colt .45 revolver.  We're scheduled to do five shows on Bailey Day, and we're working out an agreement with South Park City (very popular 1800's ghost town in Fairplay, CO) to perform multiple times this summer.  We had our first performance in Shawnee (couple miles from Bailey) for their history day. The gal who was organizing the event wanted it to be a surprise, but I know how many people are packing heat up here and told her that we needed to put a sign up to alert people that a western gunfight would be taking place.  Part of the skit involved me coming in with a scarf over my face and my gun drawn.  I yelled, "This is a hold-up!  Get your hands in the air!"  At which time the musician who'd been playing up front points a gun at me and yells, "Oh yeah!  We'll see about that!".  My immediate thought was, "This wasn't part of our script", and I stood there for a couple of seconds wondering what to do - since I only had blanks, and depending on whether that's a toy or not that he's pointing at me this could get tricky.  I decided to ignore him and went on with the show.  Found out later it was a toy gun... that's all I need is a hero who guns me down in the middle of a show!  The following weekend we were asked to do two performances for the first anniversary of the new Staunton State Park near Conifer.   I have a feeling this hobby could get out of control real fast!

What does believing in God have to do with Sasquatch?

A recent article I wrote for a local newspaper.  Enjoy :)



A few weeks ago I went squatching with a couple of friends. “Squatching” is an Indian word that means “White people walking in the woods who see nothing.” However, seeing nothing never stops me. Kind of like killing nothing has never stopped me from hunting. My so-called friends say the safest place for an elk to be is right in front of my rifle. Very funny. The safest place is actually a little to the left in front of me. Anyway, we started our hike where we'd seen some promising signs in previous weeks, and it wasn't long before we found a bunch of sapling tree breaks. No one knows why Squatches (that's what we Squatchers call them) break trees, but it's assumed to be some kind of territorial display. It's the Sasquatch version of big tires and lift-kits on pickup trucks, only much less expensive. The (top secret) place where we were hiking was literally covered with deer and elk tracks, which is a good sign since Squatches really like their protein. After a couple of hours of walking we came across something really strange: there in the snow was a perfect, elk-shaped impression – but no elk. It was like someone had pressed in the snow with a gigantic elk stamp. And we noticed something even weirder (is that a word?): there were no elk tracks leaving the site, nor lion tracks, nor drag marks, nor any blood. There weren't even any signs of a struggle. That elk just hit the snow like it ran into an invisible wall at full speed. We stood there like three Sherlock Holmes actors trying to figure this one out, and we could only come to one conclusion: the elk was picked up and carried away. And at 400-500 pounds that's no small feat of brute strength. There was another set of prints that paralleled the elk trail – only these were much larger and more shallow than the elk tracks with about a ten foot stride. But, of course, they were too melted by the sun to give any clear idea if they were Squatch prints. Yes, this is the footprint version of the fuzzy squatch-blob photos.


I've never personally seen a Sasquatch. I know quite a number of people who say they have, and in most cases I believe them. The first eye-witness I ever met was my friend Kate, who saw a large Squatch in May of 2012 along with a friend with whom she was hiking. Since then, we've met scores of people who come into our store in Bailey to stick a colored pin on the Colorado Sasquatch Sightings Map we have up on the wall. There's over 70 pins on that map already, and we only put it up six months ago. Course, that's about the time the grow store opened up down the street... just kidding. All joking aside, the legend of Bigfoot has to go down as one of the great mysteries of the last two centuries: how a creature that stands eight feet tall, weighs somewhere around 800 pounds, walks on two legs, is covered with hair, stinks like a skunk, and has never, not even once, been caught or confirmed killed. And yet there are hundreds, possibly even thousands of stories that come from every state in the union. EVERY state. Even Arizona and New Mexico. They can't possibly all be hoaxes or drunken hallucinations. There is definitely SOMETHING out there.


We get a lot of Sasquatch enthusiasts coming to our store, and they will eventually get up the courage to ask THE question: “Do YOU believe in Bigfoot? Hmm...Do I Believe? The question almost feels religious, as if they were asking if I'm a Bigfootist, or if I practice Sasquatchism. I've even had someone ask me how I, as a religious person, can believe in Bigfoot. Why? What does believing in God have to do with Sasquatch? Apparently, many people look at God and Sasquatch in the same way – as mythical creatures with no scientific foundation for their existence. To a certain point I agree with them, because to believe that God or Sasquatch exists takes a healthy dose of faith. But of this I am sure: there's only one thing that will turn a skeptic into a believer – and that's a personal encounter. Then there's no convincing them that God or Sasquatch DOESN'T exist! I can attest to the fact that God is real, He is personal, and He is seeking a relationship with each of us. He has broken through into my world numerous times in dramatic, unmistakable ways. I love to tell these “ God moment” stories, because my life will never be the same. So who knows? One of these days when I'm out in the woods I just might have a personal encounter with Sasquatch, and after I've cleaned my trousers I'll tell you about it.