Tag Archives: Williston Florida

I’m the Ugliest

I feel like I should be writing something about you, Jay. That’s what I do. I write to express emotion, I write to stay sane and, among other things, I write to grieve.

Usually, things will start to formulate when something needs to come out, I’ll get snippets rattling around my brain. When I’ve amassed enough snippets that stick, then I sit down and try to sort through them and put them in proper order. But I’m having trouble with you. Big surprise, right. Most people who knew you thought that “Trouble” might have been your middle name. And they loved you for that.

I know when I’m sitting here trying to think of more to say, I’ll feel like I haven’t done you justice and that will be true. I’ll do my best, though and hope you already know all the things that I don’t mention.

I believe I met you first when I went to work at the courthouse in the Civil Division. You instantly took me under your wing, you never made me feel like a bother, but like I was doing you a favor by letting you train me. You took me over to get my work car from the person I was replacing. He was dying of cancer and you made what could have been a most uncomfortable situation, much more comfortable.

You did things like that. You made things easier for people on one hand, even while you were razzing the hell out of them on the other hand. Teaching seemed to come natural and easy to you. I never felt like a bad student, even when I asked you the same question over and over. Yes, you razzed me about it, but in such a good-hearted way that it never stung.

You told me who to trust and who not to trust. You were right on every one. You showed me how to drop serve someone, and I still laugh at the look on their face.

I wish I could do a traffic stop on you, just to talk. The same way you used to do to me, and others when you saw us driving through Williston. I wish I could know that the next time I’m eating breakfast at Hilltop, you’ll come walking in and comment on how it’s nice that there’s a restaurant in town that will serve anybody. The waitress will ask you if you want coffee and you’ll say, “No Ma’am, I’m driving.”

I wish we could be sitting down on the end of Fourth Street using the Laser Radar to clock dogs, or trees, or people on bicycles or just about anything else that was moving.

I wish we were sitting on your porch up in Cherokee, watching the creek go by. I know you loved that place.

I will always wish I spent more time with you. I’m sure I missed out on so much by not making more time for you. That will be a sadness I will carry for a very long time.

You always called me “Ugly” and some of the times I remember most were arguing over who was the ugliest. Well, it turns out you were right, I was ugliest, because you Sir, were a beautiful man. I love you and even though we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately, I miss you already.

Just so you don’t feel weird about all this, let me just say……Damn, you’re ugly!

Rest in Peace, Brother.

Bellowing At The Moon

It was a warm January evening in Williston. The Jenkins family was watching television in their living room. Shelby the family dog, was kicked back, enjoying his regular place at the end of the couch. Shelby was the only member who felt the low, rhythmic rumble, which was the only warning of the impending danger. He wandered from room to room, looking for the cause of the vibration as the rest of the family, engrossed in the T.V., hardly noticed his search.

As he climbed onto Jeremiah’s bed, to get a clear view of the side yard, Shelby saw the massive creature staring back at him through the glass. Being the well trained attack dog that he is, he sounded the alarm. Unfortunately, Shelby sounds the alarm quite often, he takes his job as family protector quite seriously and the rest of the family ignored his first warning, thinking that it was merely the killer rottweiler from across the street. Little did they know just how wrong they were.

Shelby glanced frantically towards the living room where the stares of the rest of the family were focused on the television. He changed the tone of his bark, he bounced on the bed, he yelled, “HELLO!”, but nothing worked.

It was then that the creature through the glass made his move around the front comer of the house and out into the front yard. Shelby countered by diving off the bed, doing a perfect somersault as he ran past the T.V. and rushing the front window while waving his front legs as if he were landing aircraft in the driveway.

This finally got the humans’ attention, but by this time Shelby was too out of breath to explain, so he simply pointed out the window. Jerimiah casually moved a curtain to peer out into the darkness. He, trying not to alarm his parents, in a voice sounding almost bored said, “Mom, there’s a cow in the front yard.” as if it were the most natural thing to have a cow staring in the front window.

Shelby was beside himself as well as in front, behind and on top of himself. The cow, which was actually a bull, was not impressed with the dog’s gymnastics and actually thought momentarily about testing the strength of the front wall of the house, as this had always been a secret fantasy of his but instead he settled for playing with the tailgate of the pick up in the driveway.

It is surprising how fast parents can gather when they realize that the absurd statement that was just made by their offspring might actually be true.

Well, I will not embarrass these fine people by explaining just how funny it looked to Shelby to see these humans running around trying to figure out what to do when your pick up is being attacked by a bull but just about the time they worked out a reasonable plan, the bull switched to the 5.0 Mustang parked in front of the pickup. This changed the plan drastically as Jesse, the father, and Jeremiah, the son, spearheaded an unarmed attack on the husky marauder. This proved to be futile as the bull decided that people might be fun to play with, too, hence proving that two full sized men can go through a normal sized doorway at once. No one is quite sure how many times these two brave souls proved this, but let’s just say, they have no doubts about it.

Much that comes next is merely a blur, so I will not try to do a play-by-play. I will, however, tell you that when called and informed of this dangerous beast, the Williston Police Department responded in a timely manner by calling the owner of the bull, who instantly sent his brother-in-law to subdue the wrong doer. This he accomplished by letting the bull play with his tailgate, (on his truck), whilst he led the beast home.

As difficult as it is to believe that this happened right here in our quiet little city of Williston, it is completely true. Okay, so it’s mostly true, I’m allowed to dress it up a little. There was a bull, there was a dog, there was a Jenkins family. I admit, the dog might have polished up his part a little but who can blame him?