Remembering The Lincoln Park Museum

A photo of myself standing in front of the Lincoln Park Museum.

Remembering The Lincoln Park Museum

By Richard Mabey Jr.

At the dawn of 1996, at the age of 42, my life took on some new and exciting beginnings. It was at that time that I left the comfort and safety of working as a writer and editor in the Public Relations Department of a large telecommunications company. To save myself from being sued, I will call the company Amalgamated Telecommunications. I had worked there for a little over a decade. Truly, it was time to move on.

At the time that I worked at AT (Amalgamated Telecommunications) I moonlighted, working part time for a local regional weekly newspaper. I wrote mostly feature articles and human interest stories. So, when I left AT, my Editor at the paper was very happy to increase my responsibilities at the paper, thus increasing my weekly paycheck. It was all falling into place.

As if the odds were ten million to one, a volunteer job that I had been doing for a couple of years, turned into a paying, part-time job. And, that was the job of serving as the Curator for the Lincoln Park Museum.

The exterior view of the Lincoln Park Museum.

The Lincoln Park Museum was once the town’s library. When they built a larger library, around 1967, they converted the little library into a town museum. It is still a museum to this day.

I loved working at the Lincoln Park Museum. I learned the process of professionally framing pictures and documents. On Saturday and Sunday afternoons, from one in the afternoon till five in the evening, I would open the museum to the public for tours. I gave all the tours to the people who would stop by and visit the museum. Amazingly, I did get a lot of people to come to visit this quaint and charming museum.

A view of a portion of the interior of the Lincoln Park Museum.

Also, I would give tours to groups. Over the years, I must have given well over 50 group tours. This included group tours for Boy Scout and Girl Scout Troops, grade school classes, church youth groups, and one time the town Little League did a group tour of the town museum. I think the children and adults who took the group tours had fun and learned about the history of Lincoln Park. I got a significant number of thank you letters from various organizations who took my group tour.

I learned a lot from my years as Curator of the Lincoln Park Museum. I served as Curator for the museum from 1996 till 2005, when I left Lincoln Park to move to a small town in Central Pennsylvania. I dearly cherish my memories of the Lincoln Park Museum.

Posted in 1996, Accomplishment, Acts of Kindness, Amalgamated Telecommunications, Believe in yourself!, Destiny, Determination, Dreams, Encouragement, Faith, Finding Your Purpose in Life, Lincoln Park Museum, Memory | Leave a comment

The Scouting Journal

The front page of the first edition of the legendary “Scouting Journal.”

The Scouting Journal

By Richard Mabey Jr.

“The Scouting Journal” was the official newspaper of Boy Scout Troop 170. The first edition was printed in November of 1982. The paper was published for a little over 10 years. I had the distinct honor and privilege to the Editorial Advisor of Scouting Journal for the entire time of its publication era.

Scouting Journal was written, edited and financed completely by the scouts of Boy Scout Troop 170. It was published monthly. The first edition was four pages in length. Within a short time, the paper increased in size to become an eight page newsletter. Within two years, SJ had become a very respectable Boy Scout publication and was 12 pages in length.

I was so very proud of the scouts who worked on Scouting Journal. They were a great inspiration to me. We would meet every other Saturday morning, from eighth o’clock till 11 o’clock. Our meeting place was the dining room table of the old Mabey Homestead. I think that the scouts who worked on SJ learned a lot about writing, editing and running a newspaper. It was such a fun thing to do.

Some of the scouts wrote articles. Others drew cartoons for the paper. Still others worked on the layout. And then some of the scouts sold ads to local merchants. It was like a real newspaper in miniature.

I think it was in 1985, that I received a letter from the Chief Scouting Executive of the Morris and Sussex Counties Council of the Boy Scouts of America, complimenting the scouts on what a great job they were doing in publishing The Scouting Journal. The scouts who worked on SJ were deemed a very high honor. The Chief Scouting Executive used Scouting Journal as an example of an outstanding troop newsletter in training programs for scout leaders. This was quite a milestone. I was so very proud of the scouts for earning such a high degree of respect from the top scout officials of the Morris and Sussex Counties Council.

I look back now with great pride of the scouts of Boy Scout Troop 170. They were such great scouts. I miss those glory days very much. I was a young man then. I was very honored to pass on my knowledge of writing and the insight of how a newspaper is run to the scouts.

Nearly 35 years have come and gone since the publication of the first edition of The Scouting Journal. In many ways it seems like yesterday. For me, it was a great labor of love. I cherish my memories of being the Advisor to the scouts who wrote and managed the great Scouting Journal.

Posted in 1982, Accomplishment, Boy Scout Troop 170, Boy Scouts, Creative Writing, Destiny, Determination, Dreams, Encouragement, Faith, Finding Your Purpose in Life, Giving, Homecoming, Humility, Journalism, Leadership, Life's Dreams, Scouting Journal, Spiritual Lesson, Stand Tall, Wisdom | 1 Comment

Remembering Lisa, Chapter 3

Dear old Boonton High School. The very setting for this true-life story

Remembering Lisa, Chapter 3

By Richard Mabey Jr.

There comes in the life of each and every one us, a hurt. A hurt so deep that time cannot heal the sting. From time to time, it will haunt us. It is as eerie as the sound of a squeaking hinge in the middle of the night. As empty and lonely a feeling as the cry of the sole whippoorwill at dusk. It is the echo of the hurt of the elderly man, sitting alone on a park bench in the middle of the day. It is that thing which, for some unknown reason, allows people to be cruel and mean to one another. It is as senseless as the deaths of all those men at the Battle of Gettysburg. For myself, nearly 48 years later, this moment of hurt still resonates a certain sting upon the chambers of my heart.

And so it was. I had been blessed to have the perfect timing, to come out of Mrs. K’s geometry class, in Room 210, the exact same moment in time that Lisa exited Room 209. I got the nerve to simply say hi to her. She said hi to me. She really didn’t know me, except as the kid who said hi to her when she left Room 209 and walked out to the hustle and scurry of the parade of students rapidly walking to their next class period.

And so it was. Lisa and I walked along the corridor of the second floor of dear old Boonton High School, to the staircase. I was so nervous. Butterflies rampaged my inner being. I trembled inside. My heart was beating like a big bass drum. My temples pounded. My palms were sweating. I made Barney Fife look cool, calm and collected.

As we climbed down the steps, I dug deep to find the courage to ask Lisa to the sock hop that was going to be held in the school gym that coming Saturday night. I remember glancing over at her long brown hair. Lisa was so incredibly cute. I fought an inner battle. A voice deep within myself kept echoing, “what the heck are you doing, Rich? This girl is way our to your league.”

I can’t remember what we talked about. I think it centered upon teachers, the weather, I struggled to find interesting conversation. Finally we reached the cafeteria doorway. I remember Lisa waved to one of her friends. Lisa’s friend came over to talk to Lisa and to walk with Lisa to the line to the cafeteria food service.

I remember struggling to keep the energy alive between Lisa and myself. But, alas it was fading. And fading fast. Lisa was lost in her conversation with her friend. They were talking about a boy they both knew. Don’t ask me why, but I remember Lisa’s friend saying this to Lisa.

“He’s a junior. I found out he’s a junior. And, I found out he’s Tom Sycamore’s cousin. I know Tom, he’s my neighbor. Maybe you’ll finally get to meet him.”

My heart sank. My heart sank to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. A sadness came over me that could never be put into words.

We finally got to the point in line, where you would grab a tray and tell one of the cafeteria staff members what you wanted for lunch. Lisa and her friend, grabbed their trays. I was right behind them. As if I wasn’t even there, Lisa’s friend whispered to Lisa, “who’s the kid you were talking to?”

“I don’t know just some kid,” Lisa replied.

“Oh. Lisa, I think he likes you,” Lisa’s friend whispered to Lisa, totally unconcerned that I may be able to hear their conversation.

“Oh, him. He’s a nerd,” Lisa replied.

Then both girls giggled. They laughed. And then they laughed some more. My heart sank. I nearly cried. Those words, “Oh him. He’s a nerd,” left me with the feeling that someone had just plunged a dagger into my heart. The pangs of young love.

The next day, I returned to geometry class. But no longer was I distracted with thoughts of Lisa being in the next classroom over. No longer was I thinking about something clever to say to Lisa, if I saw Lisa after class let out. My mind was now on geometry. My mind was fully focused on geometry.

Ron probably doesn’t remember this. But when we all sat down at the start of the class, that very day, Ron sat down and smiled and said to me, “hey Rich did you get problem seven? That was a doozy.”

I looked over to Ron and smiled, “I’m not sure if I got the right answer.”

Slowly but surely, as the days passed, then weeks passed, then months passed; I forgot that Lisa was in the classroom next to Room 210, during my geometry class. There came a time, a moment if you will, an awakening, a revelation that I had been using the principles of geometry for years and never realized it.

You see, when I was a kid, from about the age of eight, I loved to build tree forts. I built four tree forts in my backyard. My grand masterpiece tree fort had three levels to it. I also built five or six tree forts in the woods, in back of my house. Some of them I built along the tow path of the Morris Canal. And, in building all of them, I used the principles of geometry to build each and every one of them.

But, alas, here is the whole bottom line to this story. Before June of 1969 rolled around and geometry class was over. I developed a secret crush on someone else. No doubt you’ve guessed it. I don’t know if it was a crush, but a feeling of deep appreciation. And, of course that crush, that feeling of appreciation was for none other than Mrs. K.

It’s been brutally painful to write this story. You would think that after 47 years had passed, that would not be the case. But, what can I say? It was and still is.

And the final word would not be complete without a word of thank you to Ron G. Without his encouragement, sitting next to me in geometry class for that year, I am sure I would have flunked geometry for sure. I can still hear the echo of Ron’s voice, “hey Rich, did you get problem seven. Man, that was a doozy!” So better late than never. Thank you Ron G. for your words of encouragement in my struggle with geometry class!

Posted in 1968, Acts of Kindness, Baseball, Be Strong!, Believe in yourself!, Boonton, Boonton High School, Boyhood Days, Broken Heart, Childhood Friend, Classroom 210, Compassion, Creative Writing, Destiny, Determination, Divine Protection, Dreams, Encouragement, Faith, Finding Your Purpose in Life, From boyhood to manhood, Geometry Class, Healing, Humility, Kindness, Lincoln Park, Lisa at BHS, Love Story, Memory, Moving On, my geometry teacher, New Jersey, NJ, Nostalgia, Ron G., The Old Tree Fort, Tree Fort, Wisdom | 1 Comment

Remembering Lisa, Chapter 2

It was in the hallowed halls of Boonton High School, back in 1968, that I was to feel the pangs of young love.

Remembering Lisa, Chapter 2

By Richard Mabey Jr.

My fateful walk from Room 210, down the hall, down the staircase and then down the hallway to the school cafeteria, with Lisa was a most fateful and painful walk. Even now, after over 47 years have passed, it is still painful to think about. Still painful to write about. It’s an odd thing. A very odd thing.

I’ve done five rewrites of this portion of this true-life story. I need to do yet another rewrite. But, in reflection, there were so very many factors, so many elements of this story. It seems that the odds of all of these elements; the people, the timing, the places, coming together like they did, were probably a million to one.

Ron G. was the home run king. He was undoubtedly one of the best baseball players in dear old Boonton High School.

One of the key people in this true-life story, is my classmate Ron G. Ron and I were very different people. Ron was the home run king. I was one of the kids who got cut from the baseball team. Ron was outgoing and confident. I was shy and introspective. But Ron and I had one thing in common, struggling through Mrs. K’s geometry class.

The Pythagorean Theorem was the essential breaking point for me, in Mrs. K’s geometry class.

I think the breaking point for me, in geometry class, was the Pythagorean Theorem. I remember this as clear as the crack in the Liberty Bell. Dear, wonderful, Mrs. K. began explaining the Pythagorean Theorem. I remember this so very well. Half way through the class, I thought to myself, “what the heck is Mrs. K. talking about?”

In high school, I was quite shy and introspective.

In high school, I was quite shy and introspective. Ron was outgoing and confident. We were very different types of people. But, somehow and someway during our struggles in geometry class, a sense of brotherhood unfolded.

Ron and I sat next to each other in geometry class. Somewhere and some time during Mrs. K’s explanation of the Pythagorean Theorem, I remember turning to Ron and whispering to him, “I have no idea what she’s talking about. I’m totally lost.” Ron chuckled a little bit, turned to me and whispered to me, “me too, brother.” At that point in time, I felt a bond of brotherhood with Ron.

It was in Room 210, that two very different people, were a source of encouragement to each other to climb the wall of truly understanding the Pythagorean Theorem.

In grade school, I had a lot of friends from my neighborhood, from church, from scouts, from Lincoln Park whom I had known since the First Grade. But the good Lord provided me with a new friend to encourage me to make it through my struggles in geometry class. Ron was from Boonton. I was from Lincoln Park. Prior to being in Mrs. K’s geometry class, I really did not know Ron beforehand. But Ron turned out to be in the right place, at the right time, to give me encouragement to come to an understanding of the truth of the Pythagorean Theorem. Something for which I am still grateful.

I’m having a tough time writing the second part of my true-life story, “Remembering Lisa.” By now you probably figured out that Lisa and I did not trip the light fantastic at the old high school dance. “Remembering Lisa” is a painful memory to me. But part of being a writer is to struggle and win over the painful points. And for some reason, even though it’s over 47 years later, “Remembering Lisa” is still a painful story for me to write.

Mrs. K. was a great teacher. She truly was a wonderful geometry teacher.

I’d be remiss without saying this. Mrs. K. was a great teacher. She was a wonderful teacher. I was just too distracted with my infatuation with the freshman girl, in the next classroom, to fully appreciation Mrs. K. at the time. It’s kind of sad in a way.

And, to Ron G. there are no words to say thank you, to him, for his kind words of encouragement through the course of our geometry class. And, to all my good readers, I promise that I will get through the process of writing the conclusion of “Remembering Lisa.”

Posted in 1968, Accomplishment, Acts of Kindness, Baseball, Be Strong!, Beavertown, Believe in yourself!, Boonton, Boonton High School, Boyhood Days, Broken Heart, Childhood Friend, Compassion, Creative Writing, Destiny, Determination, Divine Protection, Dreams, Encouragement, Finding Your Purpose in Life, Geometry Class, Giving, Good Neighbor Sam, Healing, Humility, Journey to Truth, Kindness, Life's Dreams, Lincoln Park, Lisa at BHS, Love Story, Moving On, New Jersey, NJ, Nostalgia, Ron G., Sacrifice, Small Town America, Spiritual Lesson, Stand Tall, Wisdom | 2 Comments

Remembering Lisa: Chapter 1

The long line of the famous cafeteria at dear old Boonton High School, back in the fall of 1968.

Remembering Lisa: Chapter 1

By Richard Mabey Jr.

All of us have these painful moments in time. We try to smash them down, deep into our subconscious mind. But then, when we least expect it, they arise from the depths of our unconscious self and float up to haunt us. For myself, having the gift, and at times the curse, of extreme autobiographical memory; these haunting memories often pop up. Leaving for me, a certain sting of pain of a long-lost era.

Back in the early autumn of 1968, I was beginning my sophomore year at Boonton High School. Many of you who know me through my writings, may be asking, “wait a minute, Richard, didn’t you go to Lincoln Park High School?” Well, here’s the scoop, Lincoln Park did not have a high school when I was a kid. Sadly, they still don’t.

High school kids, from Lincoln Park, had to be at their respective bus stops at seven in the morning. They would then climb onto the old yellow school bus and traverse through Lincoln Park, then Towaco, then Montville and finally reach the town of Boonton. It was crazy. It was just crazy.

I remember this so very well. It is ingrained in my heart and mind with indelible ink. I had this most painful crush on this girl, Lisa. She was a freshman, I was a sophomore. Lisa had long brown hair, brown eyes, and the most contagious laugh you could ever imagine.

Basically, I would see Lisa once a day. My geometry class was in Room 210, Mrs. Ketz was my teacher. My friend, Ron, sat next to me in this class. Ron was one of the best baseball players in the entire school. He was one of the coolest of the cool kids. But, there was nothing stuck up about Ron. We helped each other get through Pythagoras’s theory of triangles, by encouraging each other that we could muddle through it all.

Well, back to my love story about my old heart flame, Lisa. Lisa was a freshman. She had her math class at the same time, across the hallway in Room 209, fourth period. I remember that it was fourth period, because it was just before lunch period.

Every day, I would hope and pray that I would be leaving Room 210 with the exact timing to see Lisa and at least be able to say hi to her. That was one of my high points of my sophomore year, saying hi to Lisa, when I got out of geometry class.

I remember that during the last five minutes of Mrs. Ketz’s geometry class, my heart would beat like a big bass drum. The palms of my hands would get all sweaty. My throat would go dry. I could feel my pulse beating at my temples. All I could think about was getting the nerve to say hi to Lisa, if I was lucky enough to see her as she would be leaving her math class, in Room 209.

I was the skinny kid, the drummer in the school band, with Buddy Holly glasses.

I was crazy about Lisa. But I was this skinny kid, the drummer in the school band, with Buddy Holly glasses. I worried and worried, if I was just kidding myself. Was I way out of my league?

I would fade off into daydreaming about Lisa, during geometry class. Then, Ron would bring me back to earth. Back to Pythagoras and his long winded theory of triangles. Ron would say something like, “hey, Rich, you think it should be an acute triangle or an obtuse triangle on problem seven.” And, then zoom, bang, I’d come crashing down from the ethers, day dreaming about Lisa. Ron never knew it, but he saved me from flunking geometry class.

I had it so bad for Lisa, that on Sunday nights, while I was at Youth Fellowship at my church, I would be lost in day dreaming about Lisa. We used to start Youth Fellowship at seven in the evening. Dr. Johnson would have a bible study for about a half-hour. While I should have been focused on a verse in the Book of Deuteronomy, I would be day dreaming about Lisa.

Finally, when the sun would be rising on Monday morning, I would be in the mad rush to get ready for the walk down to my bus stop and be on my way to Boonton High. It wasn’t that I was in love with school, it was that I was madly in love with Lisa.

Finally, one time when the bell rang marking the end of geometry class, the timing was perfect. My guardian angel had smiled down upon me. The timing was so perfect. I was leaving the doorway of Room 210, just as Lisa was leaving the doorway of Room 209. And, lo and behold Lisa smiled at me and said hi to me, before I got to say hi to her. I nearly fainted.

Then, the miracle continued. Lisa began talking to me as we walked down that long corridor to the staircase, leading downstairs to the great food served at the school’s noteworthy cafeteria. It was during that walk with Lisa, from Room 210 to the cafeteria that it all happened. And, from which, I would never, ever, ever be the same. From that two minute walk down the hallway, down the staircase, then down the hall to the cafeteria, an event so powerful, so dramatic that it would change my life. And, from that point on, my life would never be the same.

To be continued.

Posted in 1968, Accomplishment, Acts of Kindness, Be Strong!, Believe in yourself!, Boonton, Boonton High School, Boonton High School Marching Band, Boyhood Days, Childhood Friend, Compassion, Destiny, Determination, Dreams, Drums, Encouragement, Faith, Finding Your Purpose in Life, Friendship, From boyhood to manhood, Geometry Class, Homecoming, Humility, Journey to Truth, Kindness, Life's Dreams, Lincoln Park, Lisa at BHS, Love Story, Memory, Never give up!, New Jersey, NJ, Nostalgia, Romance, Small Town America, Spiritual Lesson, Stand Tall, Wisdom | 2 Comments

The Salt Shaker Test

It may look like an ordinary salt shaker. But in the corporate world it can be the very thing that holds you back from getting that big promotion.

Please note: I made up the name “Amalgamated Consolidated.” It is a pseudonym for the real company that I worked for, for many years. I just don’t want to get sued.

The Clever Tricks of the Corporate World:

The Salt Shaker Test

By Richard Mabey Jr.

What I am about to share with you is an old corporate secret test. You may not want to believe it. That’s fine. But what I am telling you here is the golden truth.

In the summer of 1993, I was 39 years old. I thought I had grabbed the golden ring in the Merry-Go-Round of life. I was working as a writer and editor in the Public Relations Department of a big international telecommunications corporation, Amalgamated Consolidated. I had submitted several concepts and sample video tapes, to a local cable television company, of a concept of a television talk show that I originated. The show was now under serious consideration of becoming a weekly television show. I was teaching Creative Writing classes in the evening with an adult education program at a local high school. My weekly column appeared in the largest regional weekly newspaper in northeast New Jersey. And, my boss was considering me for a big promotion.

What I am about to share with you is truth. You can choose to believe it or not.

I told my good friend, Tom, at Amalgamated Consolidated that I was being considered for a promotion. Tom worked in the mailroom. Tom was about 55 years old. Maybe a little older. When I told Tom that I was being considered for a promotion, Tom looked to the left and then he looked to the right. Then he whispered to me, “your boss wants to take you to lunch to discuss it, right?”

I remember saying something like, “yes, he does. How did you know?”

Tom whispered to me, “it’s the salt shaker test.” Then Tom directed me to walk with him over to a corner of the mailroom. Tom began to explain the salt shaker test. This is a REAL corporate trick. I am sharing it with my readers, in the hope that it may help one single solitary person to pass the salt shaker test.

Tom went on to tell me that it was about a decade ago that he was being considered to be the Supervisor for the entire mailroom. Well, Tom told me that his boss took him out to lunch, to discuss what the job would entail and that he was just one candidate for the job.

Then Tom told me how he failed the salt shaker test. When the server brought the plates of food to the table for him and his boss, Tom made the terrible mistake of salting his food before tasting. Tom went on to tell me that when a person salts their food, before tasting it, they are taken out of the running for a promotion.

“It’s a sign of being impetuous. They believe that you make decisions without being informed,” I remember Tom telling me.
The salt shaker test is real. I don’t know if it is still used in the corporate world. I have a feeling it is. But just to be on the safe side, if your boss takes you out to lunch, taste your food before you put salt and pepper on it. You just never know!

Posted in 1993, Advice to the younger set, Amalgamated Consolidated, Be Strong!, Dangers of being too trusting, Destiny, Encouragement, Faith, Finding Your Purpose in Life, Journey to Truth, Life's Dreams, Memory, Modern Life, Never give up!, Sacrifice, Spiritual Lesson, To thine own self be true., Tricks of the Corporate World, Wisdom | Leave a comment

To Find One’s True Self

At the age of 23, I graduated from the first graduating class of Sherman College of Chiropractic. I was filled with incredible hope, endless idealism and an abounding love for life.

To Find One’s True Self

By Richard Mabey Jr.

In September of 1976, at the age of 23, I graduated with the first graduating class of Sherman College of Chiropractic. It was a tough haul for me. Chiropractic college is a four year program. It is a grueling and tough curriculum. It did not come easy to me. I was just glad it was over.

After graduation I took the West Virginia Chiropractic Board Exam and passed. It was around June of 1977 that I set up a little store front chiropractic office, in a small town in West Virginia. I have plans to write more about this experience, reflecting upon the real life people who touched my life, during this time period. I don’t want to be sued. Some of these folks may still be around. So, for that reason, I am going to call this town, Deer Valley.

Deer Valley had about two thousand people in it. Most of the people were very poor. I was young, I was idealistic, I was filled with hope of touching as many people’s lives as I possibly could.

From June of 1977 till about June of 1979, I lived in poverty. I lived in the back of the little store front. It was cramped. There was a tiny shower in the backroom bathroom. It was like the time Barney lived in the backroom of the Court House. Except it wasn’t a half-hour sitcom, it was real.

I don’t know how I did it. Back then, chiropractic was nowhere near as accepted as it is now. The people in Deer Valley were good people, solid people, but they were dirt poor. They would come to me to get adjusted and bring a brown paper bag filled with tomatoes from their garden, to pay me. This is not a joke. This is the reality of it all.

People would come to me to get their spine adjusted. They would seem to be happy with me. They seemed to be happy with everything that I did for them, in adjusting their spinal column. They would pay what they could. Sometimes, they would tell me that they couldn’t afford to pay anything. I would still adjust them.

I worked part time at a grocery store to subsidize my income as a chiropractor. Still, I mostly lived on hot dogs and beans. And, not the national brands. I would buy the cheaper “store brand” hot dogs and beans. But, I was filled with hope, youthful energy, and endless idealism.

I got sick. I got very sick. I was worn and weary. I was flat broke. I had failed to make a living as a chiropractor. I felt ashamed. I felt like a big fat failure.

One day, I could go on no longer. My yearly lease was up. I closed up shop and drove back home to Lincoln Park, New Jersey in my 1966 Ford Galaxie. That chapter closed in my life. It was a most painful chapter.

In the late 1970’s chiropractic did not enjoy the acceptance that it holds today. I want to be very kind here. But, the people in small town West Virginia were often suspicious of a newcomer. Let alone a newcomer who was young and talked about the importance of the alignment of the spinal column for maintaining good health.

I learned a lot in those two years. I learned a lot about people. I learned a lot about myself. I wrote a lot. I wrote every spare minute I had. My love for writing just grew and grew and grew, during those two years of poverty. In many ways, writing chose me, I did not choose writing.

It was painful to write this particular chapter of my blog. For all the young people out there. For all the young at heart. Find yourself. Not the self that you think others want you to be. Find your true self. It may take facing a failure or two in life. But there is great fulfillment found in finding your true self. Only you can do it

Posted in 1976, 1977, 1978, 1979, Acts of Kindness, Advice to the younger set, Be Strong!, Believe in yourself!, Chiropractic, Compassion, Dangers of being too trusting, Destiny, Determination, Divine Protection, Dreams, Encouragement, Faith, Finding Your Purpose in Life, Ford Galaxie, Giving, Humility, Journey to Truth, Kindness, Life's Dreams, Love one another, Memory, Moving On, Sacrifice, Sherman College of Chiropractic, Small Town America, Spiritual Lesson, Surviving Prejudice, West Virginia, Wisdom | 1 Comment