My Thailand Experience

 I think we can all agree, we are a spoiled people. We were fortunate enough to be born or transported to this land of milk and honey where things are relatively organized (well, except our current government wrangling) and we can depend on a steady access to fresh water, electricity and food. All of which, one way or another, are regulated and consistent throughout the expanse of our Nation. Not so much in lands outside of our borders (sorry…not you O, Canada, you guys are pretty set except for that weird money you have).

Let’s take a moment to discuss flying to distant destinations. The farthest I’ve flown was to Hawaii. About six hours with no delays. Dallas-Fort Worth to Doha, Qatar was 17 HOURS. There’s only First Class/Business and then the unwashed rabble (us).

We had these neat little video screens with like 400 videos and movies to watch but the seating space was ridiculous. When the person in front of me tipped back their seat, that little screen was now inches from my face. Luckily, I had been blessed with an aisle seat, I could get up at will and move around. My row companions, not-so-much.

Then there was the connecting flight, 7 HOURS to Bangkok and another hour and a half to Chiang Mai. That’s over a day in the air in a metal tube hurtling through space.

Apparently NOT worried about hijacking

Food wasn’t a problem, we had three meals on the Doha flight, two to Bangkok and another on the Chiang Mai flight (kudos to the Bangkok Air folks, they had, in my opinion, the best in-flight meal). Interesting side light, on Qatar, they give you this cool bag of stuff you might need like headphones, cute little socks and blinders to wear to sleep. They also have a “Personal Wellness Bag.”

Of course, it is an airsickness bag but with a twist. Look carefully and note the top is sealed, you have to tear it open to use it. I thought this could be problematic if you were in some sort of a hurry. This should probably have been covered in the Safety Talk at the start of the flight.

We Americans take so much for granted that, when we travel abroad, we have certain expectations and feel somewhat inconvenienced when those expectations aren’t met. The ugly American syndrome takes over and our hosts look at us askance, roll their eyes and do what they can to accommodate us when they can.

Like restroom accommodations. Both in Thailand and my experience in Mexico, not everybody is blessed with inside flushable toilets. Oh, you’ll be safe enough in some of the major cities, but just outside the city limits you would most likely end up with some version of this setup.

A stand up or squat situation with a manual flush of a bucket of water cast into the porcelain receptacle or it could be just a deep dug hole which may or may not be in a cabana or shed. Like camping, having a roll of toilet paper in your back pack (and some baby wipes for those more fastidious souls) is a life saver. For the “upscale” Resort we stayed in, they used flush toilets but a slight twist on the bidet concept. Bet you never thought to use a dish sink sprayer like these folks did.

When we arrived for our Medical Mission, Carmen took us aside and reminded us we were in Thailand and not to expect four-star accommodations or treatment. She emphasized we were guests in their Country and to act that way. We were told in no uncertain terms that taking shoes off when entering a person’s home or church was mandatory, and special dispensation had been offered us while we were at clinics because they expected us to be wearing shoe coverings on-the-job.

Masks are still common in Thailand (I was somewhat surprised, being from Texas, the Land of Virus deniers) how many people I saw wearing masks in stores or on the street) and if offered one or asked to wear one we should agree or leave the place we were in.

The Thai people are an old and proud culture and, although they will excuse a foreigner (they actually call us that), they can be easily insulted and don’t forget easily. Generally, if confronted by embarrassment, they will default to laughing or giggling and walk away. Many have been Westernized and many know and understand at least rudimentary English. It is taught in public and private schools and college/universities. There is also a huge Ex-Pat community of Europeans and Americans as well.

And, of course, there are a plethora of American fast-food establishments to make one feel at home. Although available, I never saw anyone use chop-sticks in and around the Chiang Mai area. Of course, with my corrupt sense of humor, I was trying to visualize someone eating a Big Mac with chop sticks.

Our first few days involved acclimating ourselves to the Thai ways. “Team Building” exercises involved us trying to pick up some basic Thai terms and greetings. Each Team of Medical and Vision had medical and/or vision terms to use to coax our patients to tell us what was wrong or right about what we were doing. This involved huddling with our Thai student leader and learning a song (in Thai) that we were going to sing to other groups later on…no pressure. No matter who you are or where you come from, it’s always easy to spot pain, suffering or fear in someone’s face and sometimes just holding a hand or shielding their eyes could provide comfort when the crazy foreigner is about to stick a big old needle into your extremity.

At one Team Building, Carmen split us into men and women and assigned us food preparation tasks. The men were teamed with some male Thai students to go to the food market. Our mission was to go into town and buy a main course, side dishes and a healthy soup.  One team had to prepare Breakfast.

The women stayed behind to get some open-air kitchen cooking techniques with our Chief Cook. Luckily, the men teams got an interpreter to go along to help.

We piled into our open pickup trucks (ah…did I mention they don’t have a Department of Transportation regulating things like…seat belts? Hey, its Thailand after all) and made our way through bustling downtown Chiang Mai traffic at rush-hour.

It was a cacophony of horns, loud exhaust, clouds of diesel smoke (oh yeah, no smog regulations), squealing tires and then add in motorbikes in various configurations (amazing the things you can hang off of a moped) darting in and out of traffic. All vying and jockeying for position where whatever driving regulations and traffic control devices are mere suggestions in the overall picture and, oh, did I mention all that driving on the wrong side of the road?

Funny story, while we careened through the streets, I mentioned this seemingly chaotic road scene to one of our mentors, Dr. Roy Batterham. Doc Roy said it may look that way, but, in fact, all people who apply for drivers’ licenses take mandatory driver safety classes AND a mandatory four-hour course in Courteous Driving and must pass the course to get their license. Backward third-world country? I think not.

We get to the open-air market and split up to get our ingredients. My guys were tasked with getting the soup contents. We approach what I will euphemistically call a Meat Counter. No refrigeration or even ice supporting these various cuts of chicken, beef and pork lying about.

I was told that Thais generally ascribe to the European style of meal preparation. In most cases, they buy stuff for the next couple of meals so there is no immediate need to refrigerate because the food will be consumed soon after purchase. Most folks have refrigeration in the cities but the more rural (and away from electricity infrastructure) the fresher the purchase or harvesting. This market was extensive and you could pick up just about anything we might have at a grocery store except for packaging and some of it maaaaay still be moving.

My guys looked to me (the VERY senior member of the team) to come up with the ingredients. I looked about under the watchful and clearly entertained eyes of the women proprietors. You see, Thailand is more of a Matriarchal society and men aren’t usually the ones doing the food prep or purchase. So, we were already behind the eight ball if you will.

I was a little overwhelmed with the smell and display of various meats, some I could not immediately identify. I did note there seemed to be a plethora of pig parts, hooves, bellies, ears and whole heads. So, I had our intrepid interpreter ask the woman behind, what I will loosely call “the counter”, if she had any ground pork. She quickly and enthusiastically answered yes and asked me how much I needed. I couldn’t find any clues around me and my stalwart companions were of no help so they left it up to me. I recalled I was in a Metric country and blurted out, “One Kilo.”

This seemed to satisfy the woman who then told us she would immediately grind up some and that we could swing by to pick up after completing our ingredient list. We then selected some beautiful and BIG carrots, some potatoes and cilantro. We went by the meat counter, scored our pork, had enough stuff to feed about 20 people and got out of there for less than the equivalent of $10 U.S. dollars (the Thai Baht was 36 to one U.S. Dollar at the time).

After dinner, I had some time to do some reading. There was usually a “hot pot” of water for coffee or hot chocolate. For convenience, our hosts used a common packaged single serving coffee. Doc Roy came by and I remarked to him the huge number of coffee shops I had seen on our travels. Literally a Starbucks or mom and pop independent shop every hundred yards or so. Doc Roy told an interesting story.

As you note on the map, we were on the outskirts of the infamous “Golden Triangle” of Laos, Myanmar (Burma) and Thailand. Opium, what started out as a revenue source for anti-Communist militias fighting in the 1960s in that region, ended up as a big Drug Cartel mess. Because opium was such a great cash crop in this region, the government was making efforts to get the locals off farming opium and move to a less dangerous and addictive crop. They went to the United Nations and their agricultural guy did a study and decided coffee beans would do well in their climates so there was a big push to switch over and now they have developed a huge coffee culture which coincided with the rise of coffee shops and cafes in the 70s and 80s. A success story if I had ever heard one.

It wasn’t all work and no play. We did get a day to visit a big tourist draw to Chiang Mai, Wat Phra That Doi Suthep built in 1384 AD. According to legend, a white elephant, carrying a relic of the Buddha, was released into the jungle and began to climb a large mountain in the center of Chiang Mai, Thailand – Doi Suthep. When it reached the top, the elephant trumpeted three times before dying on the mountain.

So, they built the Temple where the elephant fell using only local materials. There are 300 steps to the top and for good luck tourists walk around the Temple three times and ring the bells as you go. We were trying to get to the Doi Inthanon National Park and Elephant Sanctuary but the rains had washed the roads out and the park was closed (sorry Debbie).0

Then there is the downtown Night Market. It’s chock full of stuff you don’t need but have to buy because it’s so inexpensive, which includes a huge food court with traditional foods and an assortment of Gringo food like burgers, pizza and even Mexican.

On another day we got to visit the Central Festival Mall. A huge five floor monolith with all your favorite shops from Nike to Ralph Lauren. The food park was in the basement and had all the stuff you want to eat and desserts. Yes, even Krispy Crème was there. Prices in Baht were comparable to U.S. prices. There were no farmers shopping here.

All things must come to an end and our last day was packing and then airport nonsense. Chiang Mai was easy, very Southwest Airlines-like. But Qatar was beyond all expectations. In retrospect, the Arab nations probably had a heads-up on the Hamas invasion of Israel. Bangkok was pretty intense but in Qatar, the day before the attack, we went through four, count‘em, four separate security checks before getting to our final gate. At this writing, several Thai captives had been released by Hamas. 

After another full day in the air in my cramped aisle seat made me that much more grateful for our return. My comrades and I had a very rewarding and interesting trip loaded with memories of the place and the people. Now, I need to reflect and decide if I’m going back in 2025!

My Medical Mission to Thailand Part 1

T

Our church has an Outreach Program which includes sending Mission Groups out for medical care and construction projects in far off lands. I had previously been to Puebla, Mexico just outside of Mexico City to help a Medical Mission visit several villages to provide basic medical care and education. Every two years, we send teams to Thailand to help the  Christian Mission to the Orient at the Lana Theological Center (LTC) in Chiang Mai, Thailand. LTC runs a school and assists outlying, small churches in villages outside of Chiang Mai. As you can imagine, spreading The Word in a predominantly Buddhist country has its challenges but there are a significant number of believers out there to Shepard.

Thailand has been through many changes over the years. The Thai people emigrated down from China around the Sixth Century and became a Monarchy early on. Back then it was Siam until 1932 when it changed names to Thailand and befriended Japan during WWII. As the war progressed, that changed; Thailand saw an increase in American and British presence helping supply forces in China through its strategic position on the border of then Burma (now Myanmar) with aircraft flying “The Hump” over the Himalayan mountains and the Burma Road into China. Of course, we had a big military presence there during the Vietnam era because of its proximity to Laos and Cambodia. Though there have been many coups and political unrest, they have currently settled on a Parliamentary-Monarchy form of government with the military still overseeing developments.

As of this writing, Hamas has attacked Israel and in the initial fighting, several Thai citizens were killed or taken hostage by Hamas. Little known fact, Thailand provides almost all the foreign farm labor in Israel. And there may be consequences for the country's agricultural economy if large numbers of Thais choose to stay away after the Hamas attack. Many of the Thai workers have to borrow money to go to Israel and now they are returning, jobless and in debt.

LTC Compund

LTC was originated by David and Deloris Filbeck. Their daughter, Carmen, and son, Ken, now operate the Center. The Filbecks were called to bring the Gospel to the Lua people of Northern Thailand in 1960. David spent 10 years learning the culture and language. But the Communist insurgency in 1974 had David return to the States where he taught at several Christian Colleges until 1982, when they were called back and settled in Chiang Mai, the largest city in the North. Their children returned with them and they named their ministry the Christian Mission to the Orient. As part of their leadership training program, they turned the LTC into a four-year Bible College sending out graduates to leadership roles in their communities and to plant new churches in North Thailand.

Registration/Triage

Our reason for being there was because of an idea Ken had in 2007 of doing mobile clinics in outlying villages. Ken is actually Doctor Ken, an accomplished Emergency Room physician who practices in Thailand, Australia and California. Under his and Carmen’s supervision, teams like ours come to Thailand to do medical, dental and vision care. There is no real organized medical care outside of the major cities in Thailand. This would require travel into the city and can be quite costly. So clinics like ours are the only real chance for people to meet or be treated by medical people. We did not have a dentist this time so we focused on vision and medical care.

After an initial registration process, vitals were taken and they were triaged to either vision, medical or both. The Thai students did all the registration and interpreting (which led to interesting conversations as they tried to interpret medical stuff to our English). The vision folks, Danny, Amy, Chad and Sherri, had low tech manual gauges to determine eyesight measurements and gave out one pair of donated single vision readers and one pair of sunglasses. It was pretty rewarding watching the reaction of the patients who put on their glasses and for maybe the first time, were able to see and read in focus.

Our care givers were two RNs, Sara, Pamela, and Doctor Ken. They interviewed patients and diagnosed what they could, given our limited supplies and equipment. The people we met were mostly farmers and field workers doing hard labor. Most chief complaints were pain in joints, cold and coughs, general fatigue and the occasional trigger finger (fingers that lock when extending or contracting into a fist) or Carpal Tunnel. There was a pharmacy to dispense pharmaceuticals and vitamins prescribed by the Care Team.

I was partnered with Ken’s son, Samuel, a current phlebotomist and new medical student. Samuel was also somewhat fluent in Thai and was our interpreter. For the cases of general fatigue, we were tasked with doing B12 injections in the arm and for the joint pain we were doing direct knee injections or shoulder joint injections of pain medication. Samuel was a natural having stuck many folks in his work but I was the holdout. Let me explain.

Someone came up with the idea that I had vast medical knowledge from my days as an EMT when I was a Sheriff’s Deputy in San Diego (yeah…it’s ok, I laughed too). I was trained as an EMT as part of my duties flying as an Observer and Pilot for ASTREA, the Sheriff’s Aviation Unit. This period was almost in the black and white television days; the expectation was monitoring patients as we flew them to an ER in our County. We didn’t inject people with drugs but we could monitor a drip from an IV bag. We didn’t diagnose their conditions or offer treatment. We “scooped and hauled” as they say in the industry and got them to competent medical care waiting at the helipad like the opening scene in M.A.S.H..

So, imagine my surprise when Dr. Ken announced I would be injecting people with really sharp needles in places I normally would have avoided. Dr. Ken, on his behalf, was an excellent teacher and his demonstration was to grab my arm and inject me with a B12 shot in the bicep. He said, “Any questions?” I was a little stunned and said,” No.” I then began my career as a jungle Medical Tech. 

Joint-Army 1st Clinic

This went on for the first clinic as I happily drew B12 from ampules, turned to these lovely people and had Samuel ask which arm, as I poked and dispensed the B12 into their arms. We would trade off the injections but there were times when Samuel would wander off to help someone or interpret; then I was on my own with no one to supervise. Scary stuff. Dr. Ken came by and said he was going to do a knee injection. He prepared his syringe and had Samuel and I watch as he did so. He showed us how he found his mark and just slipped it in a sweet spot just to the side of the knee cap. He soon came back and had Samuel do one. Then came a steady stream of knee shots interspersed with B12s that Samuel was doing by himself while I held his alcohol swabs and band-aids if needed. 

Then came the double-team sales pitch by Dr. Ken and his co-conspirator, Samuel. Dr. Ken asked if I wanted to try the knee injection. To say I was hesitant was an understatement. Dr. Ken and Samuel, both said it was “easy” and nothing I couldn’t do. I held off and took the matter under submission as we ended the first clinic. 

The second day, we set up in another church and began our injections. Soon Dr. Ken came by with another knee injection and called me over to watch. As cool as a cucumber, Dr. Ken did his magic, found his mark, injected and withdrew. He then said the next one was mine. In 90-degree heat and 75% humidity, I felt a chill go down my back. Sure enough, within minutes, another injection came up and I had to prepare a syringe for this really nice lady I had never met before this moment. I followed Dr. Ken’s instructions, found what I thought was the right spot, slipped that needle in with a satisfying “pop”, and pushed the plunger and got out.  Amazingly, contrary to what you might think, there was no blood and she walked away without even a band-aid. I was relieved to say the least. From then on, Samuel and I traded off B12 and knees the rest of that day. 

I.T. Support

After each clinic, as a reward, we would make a 7-11 run. Yes, 7-11 stores were everywhere in the Chiang Mai area we were in. As well as Burger Kings, McDonalds, Dairy Queens and Taco Bells. If you didn’t notice the bundles of cables and wires hanging precipitously from the telephone and power poles, you’d have thought you were home in the States. Yes, this is one of the places you call when you need IT support. Go figure. Well….there is all that driving on the wrong side of the road stuff too.

On the third and last clinic we saw some shoulder joint injections come in. Dr. Ken did a couple and did show Samuel and I how to do them. Luckily, there were only a few. Samuel did some and one of our intrepid RNs, Pamela, wanted to try. Clearly, she wanted to expand her repertoire and, like a kid in a candy shop, with a big smile on her face, got a shoulder and a couple of knees too. I wasn’t able to get a shoulder in but that was ok with me.

We were based in Chiang Mai but for the clinics, like Mexico, we secured lodging in a hotel close to the villages we went to. The Royal Ping Garden and Resort was a short drive to the two villages we worked at. I should point out that most of the hotels in this part of the world were called “resorts." At one time, The Royal Ping may have been a luxury hotel property but it lost some of its luster. It’s a bit run-down but clean. We were treated to a buffet breakfast and dinner after a homemade lunch was served at each village we worked at. It had usable Wi-Fi and a nice pool. It was mostly constructed of wood and you can imagine what the effects of rain, heat and humidity has on a building in that part of the world. There was a vast distinction between the room accommodations. The guys started out in a one room cabin with one giant bed made from several mattresses. The women had similar accommodations but once viewed, chose to rent better rooms for themselves. There’s a reason it has a 3.8-star rating in TripAdvisor. 

In its defense, we were in rural Thailand amidst the jungle and the rice fields by its namesake, the Ping River. It is the rainy season and when we got there it had been raining on and off since our arrival in Chiang Mai. Then, the river was a meandering stream along the property. But on our first night there, it began to rain torrents. We’re talking water park like water cascading from the pitched roof onto the pool and patio. By morning, we could see the river had climbed its banks and was now a raging river with fast moving water and now waterfalls where there were none.

Everywhere was lush and green. The rain and, no doubt, high water table, formed big trees and flowers and an occasional Marijuana bush. You can’t miss that distinct bright green and leaf. I hadn’t seen green like that since my flying days spotting Marijuana fields in rural San Diego. I spotted several right alongside the road. It is legal in Thailand since 2022, and we saw several dispensaries in Chiang Mai. 

Ok, that covers the medical portion of the trip. I will soon have Chapter Two, our travels to Thailand and our assimilation into Thai culture.

The Passing of David Kelly

The Passing of David Kelly

Diane and I did not know David a long time and came into his circle through Chad and Sara. We spent most Sundays together at Church and went to long spirited lunches afterwards. He would, against our wishes, provide our Grandson, Robert, with lethal doses of candy from the café at Church. We were occasional co-workers and we visited his home a few times to celebrate birthdays and holidays.

What I learned in that short time was that David Kelly was a great man. Not like Kings, Presidents or Soldiers but as a human being. He was kind and generous and always there to lend a helping hand. But besides his family and friends, he loved his City and our church, Compass Church.

He was a big part of Colleyville, Texas and Colleyville was a big part of him. He served this community both politically and spiritually and helped make it a better place for its citizens and our congregation. David had been a Mayor of Colleyville and folks still referred to him as Mr. Mayor when they saw him on the street.

The other thing I learned was David had a good heart. He was a good provider, father and grandfather and most of all, a good friend. He was always there with a kind word, a bit of encouragement and ready with a joke to lighten your load. He was generous with his time and resources and a prayer if you needed it.

My favorite memory I will take with me was a birthday we spent with him. Little known fact, David loved Bingo. He had won big the week before his birthday and, instead of buying something for himself, reinvested those winnings in his friends and family by sponsoring us at a Bingo Hall. Of course nobody but David won that night. It was so entertaining watching David; he was engrossed in his Bingo devices, giving advice, shielding his eyes with a green banker's visor I had gotten him for that event, surrounded by other Bingo enthusiasts and, of course, people watching, kind of like visiting Wal Mart after 10 p.m.

Things were tough for him in his final days but I’m sure he was reminded of another David who struggled with fear and doubt. In Psalm 59:16, David was aware King Saul had sent men to capture and possibly kill him, but David leaned on his faith in God to get him through praying:

“But I will sing of Your power;

Yes, I will sing aloud of Your mercy in the morning;

For You have been my defense

And refuge in the day of my trouble."

It was tough watching him in his final hours. My wife, Diane, remarked how life, sometimes, can be cruel as we watched him struggle. I agreed because I didn’t want our friend to suffer so. I felt a rich life shouldn’t end this way.

But then it came to me that our friend David was no longer there. God had already picked him up and was probably on his way home. What we were seeing was what God intended us to see. God had gathered his friends and family at his bedside because He saw something in us that needed work.

God knew we all had thoughts and feelings of anger, sadness, regret, remorse and forgiveness that hadn’t been dealt with yet. Some had been consistently caring for our friend for quite some time and knew their efforts, though at times heroic, were coming to an end. Others had been brought up with him and knew those days were coming to a close. Some of us had only known him for a short time and wished we could have had more time to share with him.

God is a realist after all and knew that in the days to come, these feelings wouldn’t subside easily but the time we spent there would comfort us in knowing we had been there for him and had his back when he needed us most. After having watched over him and reflecting, most of us left to go back to the world we knew and soon after, David finished his journey with his family close by.

And I know for sure David has found and passed through that narrow gate of Matthew 7:13-14.What comforts me the most is knowing he is now with Jesus, probably peppering him with some probing questions that needed answering (if there are cellphones and Google in Heaven, David is working his phone really hard) and meeting up with those who proceeded him.

My hope is we’ll meet up again someday but for now, David, thanks for being my friend.

The Passing of Bettye Louise Hammons

As some of you may recall, my good friend Douglas Hammons passed away back in December of 2021. A short time ago, I learned his wife of 41 years had passed away. I was able to attend the Celebration of Life and was invited to speak. It was hard but having known them in life, I really needed to send off Miss Bettye as well as reflect on my friend Doug gone just 18 months ago.

I came to the program kind of late to the game. I first met Bettye’s husband Doug working with him at the Federal Courthouse in Plano, Texas. Doug would regale me with the goings on at their place, about the deer, coyotes, possums and rabbits which frequented their place which bordered the Corp land on Lake Lewisville in Little Elm. When he would complain about some critter digging up their flower beds or eating through some electrical wiring, I would remind him they lived in a nature preserve and what did they expect?

 

We struck up a friendship and I was invited out to their place. We walked the pasture and worked in the barn and his workshop. I eventually went along and helped at some of his sound gigs, helped rework the pump house and joined them for supper. There’d be cornbread and chili, spaghetti and some kind of cake or pie. There was always a pot of coffee on and Dr. Pepper in the ice box.

 

Afterward, we’d sit up on the porch with the fan blowing to keep cool and he and Miss Bettye would tell tall tales of their exploits as volunteer firefighters and Miss Bettye’s days at the school district. They waxed poetic about the “good old days” of their beloved Little Elm or Little Ellum as the old-timers would call it. The town had definitely changed over those years, and not always for the good.

 

Whenever I was over, Miss Bettye would always bring me back to her sewing room and display her latest work of great big bed spreads or something new for one of the grandkids she cherished. She really went all out on some of those patch-work quilts and bedspreads, some patriotic to just wildly colorful. She loved her family and especially Doug. The feeling was mutual, every day, I recall seeing Doug out the back door of the courthouse on his lunch break, calling Bettye, always referring to her as his “child bride”, checking in with her.

 

Of course, we all knew Miss Bettye was having medical issues and was having trouble getting around. I recall for the longest time, one of the planks of the porch right in front of the door had broken through and Doug mentioned Bettye had almost tripped over it. I asked him why he hadn’t fixed it. Doug said the boards had all been custom cut and planed for the porch and he didn’t have any replacements. I told him he needed to get that done. Weeks went by and I came over for some project and saw it was still broken but now was a hole in the flooring. I went home and mentioned this to my wife who had met Bettye and was a sewing fan too. She got all upset and said we needed to get that board fixed.

 

So I told Doug about this at work and told him we were gonna fix that board the following weekend come hell or high water (which, by the way, did occur from time to time in their back yard, you may have seen the pictures). Sure enough, I got there bright and early on Saturday, we made a trip to Lowe’s, (well, we actually had coffee first and strategized on the porch) got us a plank and used his planer to get that board just right. We then screwed that thing down to seal up that gap. Miss Bettye was very appreciative of our efforts. But it was months before he painted it so it continued to stick out like a sore thumb.

 

We will miss her, I will miss her, the feisty woman with very strong opinions about just about anything and fiercely protective of her family, her home and her land. Woe became the errant city worker, stranger, irresponsible garbage collector or wrong-way driver who came down South Hillside Drive at any time of day.

 

I know it hasn’t been that long since Doug left us and I’m pretty sure she could have stayed with us a little longer but I’m thinking she just got impatient and just wanted to get back to him sooner than later. Thanks Bettye for including me in your life.