As Daniel Boone once said, "I have never been lost but I was a might bewildered once for seven days."

Yesterday I decided to go to the Mississippi Track Club picnic at Rocky Springs Park on the Trace, and I invited my wife, Donna, to come along. For the last month I have been getting back into running shape, had run in two races and joined the club so why not check out the picnic in a place on the Trace I had never visited. I ended up checking out a whole lot more than I could imagine.

We got to the picnic a little after 8, and there were only a handful of folks there. I decided to go ahead and run my 40 minutes in my cool new metallic blue running shoes (with lime green laces) by myself. I got in the 10 minute warm-up and stretched on the side of the trace and saw a cool knot on a maple that I have not seen before and got started on my 40 minute run and was clipping along very well and looking for an eventual right turn after the first one. Jack, the club president, had shown me a map that I was working with in my head.

It was one of those dream runs through the country with a slight breeze and slight overcast. I was fully drinking in the wonders of this world. Along the way I saw lots of interesting wild verbenas and wild grasses that I was going to harvest to take home later.


Some of my best ideas come while I am running - this day was no exception. I speculated about starting a JAG RJW club – run, jog, and walk. Also I thought about puttining a paw on the hall of fame to superstars at contests (on it would be the student's name, academic, vocational and life goals, and accomplishment to inspire future students) . And I passed the church – Rocky Spring Methodist that was founded in 1837.

I ran to the bottom of very severe hill knowing that if I kept going I would not stop on the hill and clocked 40:56!

As I walked on I was looking for that right turn and finally found it and walked and walked and walked (did I mention walk?) looking for the Park at every turn. I was walking over an hour and at one point crossed under what looked like the trace but I talked myself out of it. I kept going and saw power lines and was encouraged. I passed two houses with all the cars there but all the blinds closed so I did not stop. I turned right again knowing that was the direction to the Rocky Springs Park. My heart lifted when I saw a mail carrier in the distance – I flagged her down and asked for directions. She had not clue about getting back to Rocky Springs. I told her she was as lost as I – “Not as long as I stay on my route.” How could anyone be so unaware of where she worked everyday? Oh well she told me the names of the people on the corner and said they might help and the ones ahead that she did not know. As I walked on I saw a lady coming down her drive. I beckoned and said good morning and asked if she could help me. She was kind. I told her I did not want to knock the door of the other people and she said she would shoot me if I came up to her house. “Everyone is nervous around here since we have had so many break-ins.” I am glad I did not come up unannounced.

She offered me water after I asked and told me the Natchez Trace is one mile through there – I looked at the dense woods with no path and said I would not be going there. (She said something about it being filled with rattlesnakes.) She then said her brother was visiting her mother and might take me to the trace under which I had walked so I could walk back. I told her I would be grateful for any way closer. She brought out a plastic cup with ice and bottled water, which was like nectar – at this point I had been running/walking for almost 2 and a half hours. Her brother Roy came out and sat awhile, and he reminisced how as boys that ridden their bikes to the underpass and taken them up on the trace. He cleared a spot in the back of the truck (I was a wet stinky mess and did not want to inflict permanent damage to his nostrils in the cab). This saint took me all the way back to the park – a wonderful breezy ride in the back of the truck which was like riding in a motorcycle again with the wind in my face.


Donna said they were beginning to get worried about me. In fact one of the members had been driving around looking for me for over an hour. I had said earlier I could not imagine eating a 9:30 in the morning – that was not a problem anymore – it was now almost 11:30. It was fun meeting the trail club members – my new blue shoes are now famous. The wild verbenas and grasses will have to await another day.

Bubble Eye Rescued

Whenever I do the multiple intelligence inventory, I am always off the charts on naturalistic learning. I just love to be outside with all of the flora and fauna. So when we moved to our new house in Gluckstadt last December, I immediately started planning and planting the outside. I like to think of it as the Gluckstadt Nature Preserve.

One of the ongoing projects was digging and designing a pond area.

When I left Velma Jackson (see previous blog), I knew the eleven goldfish would not survive the summer and even if they did I did not know if the next teacher would love them like I do. The pond in part was a way for them to have a new home. I introduced them to their new home a few at a time until all eleven liked their new aquatic residence. Somehow three fish did not make it early on. Then one day I noticed Bubble Eye turned up missing for the morning and evening feedings. This went on for about a week and I had given up hope of seeing her again.

Then with the ideal breeding conditions in the warm summer weather, the pond got so full of algae that the fish spout became a drool. I had to take out the filter and clean it (if you decide to have a pond be prepared for constant maintenance). When I opened it up, there was Bubble Eye flopping around and stuck. I quickly rescued her and threw her into the pond. (Unfortunately I was too late for one of the black moors who made it to the compost.)

Now Bubble Eye pops up happily for feeding and only has a character stripe to show for her time stuck in the filter.

For the last eight years I have taught in three very challenging schools. All were very similar. I was a minority amidst minority students. Leadership was woefully lacking or inconsistent, and parental involvement minimal. Students had not yet experienced an ongoing culture of learning and academic achievement - it was only sporadic with fits and starts depending on which motivated teachers managed to pass through from time to time.

I gave these students and schools my best efforts but I never felt like I thrived. I was at a point in my career when I thought these kinds of schools were my calling and when for whatever reason I would serve them until retirement and then I got a call from my now new principal. I answered the call. Like Bubble Eye I have some character stripes from the experiences at Ray Brooks (Benoit), East Side (Cleveland) and Velma Jackson (Camden). Also like Bubble Eye, someone recycled me from one kind of school to another. This fall I will be tossed into a new school and a new challenge.

Bubble Eye told me just the other day thank you. She also whispered, "you are going to thrive."