THE DISCOVERER by N.C. Wyeth

A SIDEWALK STORY by Robert Y. Register

Buck was so glad his son, Jake, had invited him over to his house along with a couple of Jake's childhood friends for a baked snapper dinner. Buck had talked to his sister earlier in the day and told her about Jake's invitation. She half scolded him, "Buck, you better appreciate having a son who wants to have supper with his Daddy on a night when his wife and son are at the beach." Appreciation and gratitude were Buck's sister's latest self-help buzz words so Buck assured his sister that every single day for the past week he'd been diligently practicing his gratitude and after supper had ended, the table cleared and with the other guests out the door, Buck tried to fulfill the promise he'd made earlier to his sister by silently and mindfully practicing his gratitude as he sat on his son's couch, digesting red snapper throats baked with peppers and onions along with some squash casserole and too much bread. 

"Gratitude practice. Just more of that superficial new age attitude of gratitude garbage. Gratitude practice. Sounds too much like 'football practice' to me. What a drag." thought Buck.

Buck quietly belched.

Buck yelled at Jake in the kitchen,"Hey, son, thanks for cookin' that magnificent supper tonight but when you finish those dishes, would you come show me how to get on the Internet with this thing?"

Jake walked into the living room drying his hands on a towel and said,"Hell Daddy, I don't know how to work that box either and Rosa ain't here but I do know how to get on Youtube."

"That's good enough," Buck replied and handed the controller to his son.

"Daddy, what kind of fishin' shows did they have on TV back when you were growin' up in Tustenuggee?"

"Well, back then Channel 9 didn't have a regular fishin' show but the Gene Rayburn Farm Show always had a fishing report that went along with the weather. Gene Rayburn had a farm show that came on the air at six every morning and on Saturdays he came on after Saturday afternoon Wrestling. Search Youtube and see if they've got any Gene Rayburn Farm Show"

Sure enough, somebody had saved the Gene Rayburn Farm Show from oblivion and had posted dozens of episodes on Youtube. Jake clicked on the first one and the father and son sat back and prepared to watch some authentic Tri-State television from 40 years ago.

The episode they watched was set in the old hotel located on the crest of the town of Tustenuggee's river hill. Gene Rayburn discussed the historic hotel's role in hosting the first meeting of the Wekiwahatchee Cattlemen's Association back in 1939. As Rayburn spoke, the television camera panned the hotel lobby from left to right, finally focusing on an old woman sitting at a upright piano playing a spirited version of the old song, Red Wing and in the current vernacular, you might say she was "rockin' out."

The old woman sang, 

"Now the moon shines tonight on pretty Red Wing,

The breeze is sighing, the night bird's crying,

For afar 'neath his star her brave is sleeping

While Red Wing's weeping her heart away."

[Youtube links for RED WING  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCYIoZp6lv8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUCzsFsCyaU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jx5cZap5y2Y

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUBv0ruqjjU

A surprised and speechless Buck sat with his son on the couch in complete awe and astonishment as he watched and listened to his long-dead Grandmother singing and playing the piano on a four-decade old video recording of a Wekiwahatchee Valley televised farm show.

Red Wing wasn't the only one who was "weeping her heart away." Convulsed by great waves of crippling grief, Buck bent over holding his head in his hands as a full eruption of tears flooded his face, filling him with snot and causing him to gasp for air.

Jake sat helplessly and prayed that his father would soon recover his composure. 

As Buck fought to regain control over his emotions, he pulled out his bandana and blew his nose.

"Dad, I don't ever remember seeing you cry and I'm 35 years old!", exclaimed Jake.

"Sorry, Son, I guess it was seeing and hearing my Grandma again. Maybe I needed a good cry. Maybe it was her singing or the sound of that piano but it damn sure opened up the flood gates."

Jake asked, "So that was my Great Grandmother Lewis playing the piano? Is she the one whose picture's on your bedroom wall?"

Buck nodded affirmatively. 

Jake continued, "How miraculous! What are the chances of something like that happening! I asked you about whether there was a local fishing show from when you were a boy. We checked Youtube and the first clip we found opened with my late great grandma playing piano. There's gotta be some kind of force, some kind of power that arranges stuff like that! Think about all the strange coincidences that have occurred in our family! There's got to be a pattern!"

"Maybe so. Remember, you were born on the same day and in the same month that she died. April 4 went from being the yearly anniversary of the worst day of my life to being the yearly anniversary of the best day of my life: The day you were born! I don't know what's going on but I do know I miss that old woman so much. What a punch in the gut! I just couldn't hold it back." Buck blew his nose again. "Boy, I mean I burst out crying! That video of Grandma caught me completely off guard. I need to get home now before I bust out boohooing again. Thanks again for the supper, Jake. Right now I just can't explain my emotions. We'll talk more about it later, but just remember, that woman shaped my life."

Buck walked outside but before beginning his hike home, he let his eyes survey Jake's neighborhood which was located east of the reserved township section that held Old Town Tustenuggee.  The property, five acres with a large antebellum mansion on its east margin, was developed by the son of a professor at the local college back in 1920.  A street going east to west was built in the middle of the property and ten lots were platted on either side of this roadway. All the streets in Jake's subdivision ran either east to west or north to south. 

This was not true for most of the streets in Old Town Tustenuggee. Its street grid, unchanged since 1823, had been carved out of a wilderness by the order of President James Monroe after the Indians lost their title to the property. The land had been reserved from public sale because the government wanted it subdivided into a town which would stand on the south bank of the Wekiwahatchee River.  The one square mile township section on which the streets were platted was located on the spot where navigation on the river ended and a series of rapids prevented further navigation north from the Gulf.  Main Street in Tustenuggee ran parallel to the river from the southwest to the northeast along the crest of the hill that rose up on its south bank. Midway along the path of Main Street and perpendicular to it was Market Street which ran south from the river wharf up the river hill to the southern margin of the Old Town. All the other streets in Old Town ran parallel to either Main or Market Streets.

 Buck used his nightly patrols along Tustenuggee's 200 year-old street grid to unravel the chaos within his mind. Buck's mind was like a raging river and the only way he found where he could control that river was to develop habits of concentration which would build reservoirs of memories upon which Buck could exert some sort of mastery. Walking Old Town's street grid became Buck's personal ritual and his formula for achieving the focus he needed in order to understand the world around him and how it existed in the past. Old Town became the microcosm that Buck used to comprehend the macrocosm. During his nightly hikes, Buck felt that he often lost contact with his own era, giving him a thrilling sensation of somehow experiencing his world from simultaneous points in time. It was as though Buck was living in both the 19th century as well as the 21st, thus giving himself incredible insights into the heart, mind and life of old Tustenuggee. Buck was cautious about not allowing his exhilarating visions of fate and destiny to descend into dangerous fantasy.

At the end of the street coming out of Jake's neighborhood, Buck entered Old Town and as he walked north down East Boundary Street, he admired the bright colors of the blooming crepe myrtles which lined both sides of the street. Old Town consisted of about one hundred two acre city blocks. With the exception of some small triangular blocks at Old Town's boundaries, each block was 330 feet long and 264 feet wide and contained exactly two acres of land. Each of these identical rectangles of real estate was originally divided into 4 identical half acre lots. Buck recalled how amused he was when he discovered that the incredible symmetry of Tustenuggee's 1823 town plan was due to Henry VIII's need in 1534 to sell all the land he'd seized from the Roman Catholic Church in England. The Catholics owned one fourth of the cultivated land in England and King Henry VIII needed to sell it off quickly to get money to pay his debts and to fund his wars so he chopped the land up into little squares he called acres so folks would know how much land they were buying. Therefore, all the measurements needed by the surveyors to map Tustenuggee's city plan 200 years ago were established and standardized over 500 years ago in England by old King Henry VIII so the king could immediately sell all the land he'd stolen from the Catholics. Over 400 of these Tustenuggee lots were auctioned off at the first 1823 Tustenuggee land sale and in the present day, every title search for every subdivision of land in Old Town went all the way back to that first land sale 200 years ago.  

Tustenuggee doesn't have the same timelessness as the Grand Canyon or Zion National Park but, nevertheless, Old Town Tustenuggee has a timelessness. Within the two centuries that this tract of land has been occupied, nothing has interfered with the rights of property, the plan of the town or the rights of the inhabitants to use the public streets. When you cross the 99 feet of pavement of an Old Town Street, you walk across a space that was cleared by enslaved people two hundred years ago, maintained by enslaved people for decades and traveled upon by the descendants of those same enslaved people on the same day that you are crossing the street. For two centuries, if you ever wanted to see some results of slavery, all you had to do was walk the city streets of Old Town Tustenuggee. 

From the moment the right-of-ways of Tustenuggee's streets were opened to traffic in the 1820s, they were given names like Adams, Madison, Monroe, Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, all of whom were men who commented upon the evil of slavery. Tustenuggee even has a Union Street but over one hundred fifty years ago, all those street names couldn't stop some of Tustenuggee's citizens from conspiring to split the nation's churches, the nation's political parties, and finally it's government. Even the names of Tustenuggee's streets are daily reminders of its citizens' heritage.

As he walked, Buck decided that the only reason he was still upset about his emotional collapse at Jake's house that evening was due to his shame at showing weakness in front of his son. Maybe it would be better for him to consider how lucky he was to have discovered the video instead of feeling guilty about crying in front of his boy. 

Buck mused, "I'm like Jake. I'm wondering why all these coincidences keep adding up but maybe it's just a question of God helping those who help themselves. Pasteur said something wise like, 'Chance favors the prepared mind'. I'm gonna use this incident with Grandma to give me the push I need to reward my searching!"

While sauntering down East Boundary Street, Buck continued to be fascinated with the gorgeous colors of the crepe myrtle trees and as he walked, he enjoyed the comfortable certainty that he was a part of this place and that it was a part of him. He began to focus upon the happy memories of his boyhood days spent with his Grandma Polly. Buck considered how lucky he was in his life to have had a grandmother who was such a fine example of loving kindness. Maybe his memories of his Grandma's tenderness could help him to be a kinder, gentler and more loving man. Buck thought of his grandmother's favorite sayings. After his every visit, her last two parting words to him were always "Be good." Her favorite maxim was "Wrong won't ever make right" and her comments on current affairs consisted of observations such as "Buck, don't it seem like all these young folks getting married these days are going up to the altar with their fingers crossed? That didn't happen very often in my time." Buck remembered one of last things his Grandma told him before she died, "I never worry too much about how you'll do in this world, Buck, because you ain't got a lazy bone in your body and I know you'll always try to do the right thing."

Buck allowed his heart to navigate his path home and as he stepped along the sidewalk toward his destination, he passed houses that sheltered the men and women who tried to preserve the Union as well as the houses of the men and women who fought to shatter it. Over 50 of these antebellum structures still stand in Old Town Tustenuggee beside every sidewalk Buck traveled, each one a testament to the toil of the enslaved men who produced the wood and bricks from which they were constructed and who provided the labor that erected each one. Over the years, some of these old mansions have been broken up into apartments and as Buck passed one of these ancient buildings where he'd lived as a college student when he was going to Wekiwa State, he studied the Greek Revival exterior of the old building and contemplated his first lessons in love and romance which he learned back in 1969 in an upstairs bedroom of that old columned mansion.

"I have every reason in the world to simply find joy in existence," Buck reasoned, "but that crying fit at Jake's house over Grandma showing up on a Youtube clip let me know tonight I've got something hidden inside that's bothering me and I don't even know what the hell it is. Everybody has bad experiences. Maybe I keep dwelling on what was so good about them and forgetting about what was so bad. Anyway, before I pair up again, I need to work on my own life."

Buck pulled a small flask out of his pocket and took a sip of his tonic. There was nothing herbal or medicinal about Buck's tonic. It was simply a few pieces of cinnamon, lemon and wintergreen candy dissolved in cheap vodka but a single sip helped Buck maintain a proper buzz as he spent another evening exploring old Tustenuggee's sidewalks.

"It kind of feels like now is the time to walk down to the bar & check on the incoming coeds from the Wekiwa State Class of 2030 who hit town this week ready to test out their fake IDs and are arriving on the Strip right about now." Buck mused,"I bet there's some gals down there with play pretties so nice they'll bust the top off my eye candy gauge! Hey, let's celebrate the greatest of all time terrific T-town Tuesday, 'till Tuesday's gone! Like Grandma always said, 'Don't take things so seriously, Buck. It'll happen when it needs to happen. Be happy with what you got and work hard to make things better.'

"Maybe I might learn some things about myself on my little hike tonight and these days my old age has been telling me I've been hanging out in the bars long enough. I'm too young to be this damn old! Those damn Yankees on the island lied to me! They told me old age didn't start 'till 80 and it hit me at 75! I feel like I've been cheated out of five years! I guess my consolation is old age usually don't last that long plus now I've learned cranberry lemonade juice is the best thing to drink with your Miralax and it's best to keep a mason jar full of water next to my Efferdent container and I've gotten to be an expert at sticking urine guards inside my underwear.

"After tonight's catharsis, maybe I don't need the pandemonium of a Tuskenuggee barroom. Maybe now is the time to seek the sanctuary of  the serene Wekiwahatchee riverbank and its right down the street"

Buck's thoughts of the river reminded him of a little poem he wrote almost thirty years ago.

"Standing on an old street corner laid out in 1823,

Shaded by tall water oaks all around.

That's why I love T-town.

Sitting on a sandy bank with my feet in a lazy river

Watching the sun go down.

That's why I love T-town."

Buck asked himself, "Why would I want to live anywhere else?"

Buck expressed his appreciation out loud, "Crepe myrtles in the summertime and camellias in the wintertime courtesy of those wonderful old women decades ago who dedicated their lives to this town's neighborhood garden clubs. Old ladies, your long ago effort along these sidewalks was not in vain! Your lives continue to amaze and satisfy this aging son of the Southland."

Buck stopped and stood on the corner of East Margin Street and Adams Avenue while slowly turning himself around and concentrating upon everything within his field of vision. He counted fourteen beautifully shaped crepe myrtles, each one so covered in pink or red blossoms that almost none of the green foliage underneath was visible. Looking down, the streetlight now revealed the sidewalk below Jake's feet covered with the coral red blossoms from Tustenuggee's splendid crepe myrtle trees and this vision produced a flicker of wonder which captured Buck's vivid imagination and the exquisite beauty of his floral landscape seemed to transport him to a time when East Margin Street had no pavement and modern marvels like automobiles, electric streetlights and flush toilets didn't exist.

Buck recalled the lines of that poem he wrote decades earlier, "Standing on an old streetcorner laid out in 1823" 

 Arbosculpture

The Circus Trees of Gilroy Gardens - YouTube

The Man Who Talked to Trees

Beautiful artwork from crepe myrtle trees

Crepe Myrtle Trees Grown Into Intricate Sculptures || ViralHog

The Art and Beauty of the Crepe Myrtle Vase Tree #virals #fypシviralシ2024 #fypシ

California Tree Circus Circus Trees - Unique Arbor Sculptures at Gilroy Gardens

 arborsculpture crepe myrtles - Google Search

 Frog on the RiverWalk. Guessing it's a Green/Bronze Frog Bronze Frog/Green Frog | Outdoor Alabama

 1962

'New Reconstruction' Era in the South

 The Old Reconstruction of the South which placed whites under the Negro was based on the proposition that slavery had made the Negro a giant which could rule his own race, the white race and sovereign states. The New Reconstruction of the South is based upon the proposition that freedom has reduced the slavery giant to a dwarf which cannot stand erect unless its hands are in reach of the white man's shoulder. The whites of Europe, who lived far from race problems confronted by colonial whites, announced themselves to be the foremost authority on such problems. They said that they were holy and righteous and that the colonial whites were unholy and unrighteous. Such theories prevailed also in the United States among the whites who were farthest from the race problem.

Why is it that the Negro, when placed among the holiest portion of the white race both in Europe and in the United States, increases his crime rate to where he becomes the meanest Negro recorded in Negro history? 

EARNEST SEVIER COX. Richmond.

 Colorized Historic Films

Please make sure Sawyer sees this one. It's 32 minutes long but worth every moment. Try to get him to watch it twice! Try to explain that his Great Great Grandfather Will Young Register, served in the U.S. Army during World War 1 and he went over to France.

 What Everyday Life in America Looked Like 110 Years Ago Restored in Color

Here are some more: RECENT POST! Enhanced colorization 2026! New York 1900s - Advanced Colorization (New Version 4K - 2026) with Sound Design

San Francisco 1906 - Advanced Colorization (New Version 4K - 2026) with Sound Design

SUPER YOUTUBE PROVIDER! NASS - YouTube

1899 trolley cars but no automobiles!  New York c.1899: Restored To Life in Amazing Footage

Historic colorized film from around the world. Notice how many bird feathers are on women's hats!

  【Colourised】The 1890's ~ Amazing Rare Footage of Cities Around the World 【AI Restoration】

4 minutes of 1910 Henry Ford colorized historic film plus a replay of "What Everyday Life" film Rare 1910s Footage: How Everyday Americans Lived and Worked | Restored Archival Film

 One Ear Raccoon DOMINATES!!!

 JOHN ADAMS AND THOMAS JEFFERSON DIE ON THE SAME DAY, JULY 4, 1826.

coincedence adams and jefferson die July 4, 1826 2026 - Google Search

Three Presidents Die on July 4th: Just a Coincidence? | Constitution Center

But back in 1826, Daniel Webster’s eulogy for Adams and Jefferson spoke to a point that many people believed: that something other than coincidence was involved.

“The concurrence of their death on the anniversary of Independence has naturally awakened stronger emotions,” Webster said. “It cannot but seem striking and extraordinary, that these two should live to see the fiftieth year from the date of that act, that they should complete that year, and that then, on the day which had fast linked forever their own fame with their country's glory, the heavens should open to receive them both at once.”

“As their lives themselves were the gifts of Providence, who is not willing to recognize in their happy termination, as well as in their long continuance, proofs that our country and its benefactors are objects of His care?”

The Falls of t the Warrior River. About two miles, by the water line, above the city of Tuscaloosa, a ledge of nearly perpendicular rocks, extends across the entire channel of the Warrior river, abutting on its banks on either side. At low water stages of the river, during the summer months, this ledge rises ser eral feet above the surface of the waters below it, and forms an impassible barrier to navigation, which is still further obstructed by the shoals and rocks that swarm in the basin of the river, for more than a hundred miles above the ledge, which consequently forms the limit. to* which the stream navigable from below. Over this ledge, the entire volume of the waters of the river pours in an unceasing flow, produc ing, by their plunge, a loud and continuous sound,' which can be heard to the diatauce of several miles, in all directions.

This water-tull is known as the "Warrior-Fulls," forms a notable feature in the topography of the river, and in our suburban land scape. It must have been very far back in the unchronicled centuries of the past, when these Falls first lifted their voice of waters upou the air.Indeed, for aught that either geology or history has to say to the contrary, they may be coneval in ago with the river itself, and their not unmusical sound may have formed the jubilaut shout that heralded the first gliding of its waters from their mountnin sources downward to the Gulf. At all events, we may safely assume that the "Warrior Falls" are of very aucient origin. For couturies before Columbus discovered America, and long before the Red Man became a dweller in the laud, their solemn monotone broke the silence of the primeval woods which overshadow them, oven yet. Then the wild bird and the untamed denizens of tho forcat alono knew of their existence.The Indian, doubtless, ofteu paused, as he passed near them in the hunt for game, or on the firce ruid ot sav.

age war, to listen to their solemn roar, and deemed it, perhaps, the voice of the "Great Spirit," whom ho worshiped aud fearod, walking in the solitude of the woods. The bold DeSoto and his beardod marauders heard their sound, and wondered as thoy passed by and on, in their phantom quest for gold. Next and last, came the pioneers, and then the later and present settlers of this portion of the State, iu whose ears the *Falls"' ring out their watery chimes, as if a bell call to cuterpriso in utilizing their waste powers for manufactaring purposes. Tho "Falls" can be distinctly heard in nearly every of our cityTheir ceaseless mouotoue, not unlike tho| moan of pines shaken by the winds, mingles with the busy hum of life on our streets by day, and floats through them by night like au echo from the past, and a roice of the ever on going present, blended in one stream of sound, * 

  SIDEWALK STORY 2

Buck allowed his heart to navigate his path home and as he stepped along the sidewalk toward his destination, he passed houses that sheltered the men and women who tried to preserve the Union as well as the houses of the men and women who fought to shatter it. Over 50 of these antebellum structures still stand in Old Town Tustenuggee beside every sidewalk Buck traveled, each one a testament to the toil of the enslaved men who produced the wood and bricks from which they were constructed and who provided the labor that erected each one. Over the years, some of these old mansions have been broken up into apartments and as Buck passed one of these ancient buildings where he'd lived as a college student when he was going to Wekiwa State, he studied the Greek Revival exterior of the old building and contemplated his first lessons in love and romance which he learned back in 1969 in an upstairs bedroom of that old columned mansion.

"I have every reason in the world to simply find joy in existence," Buck reasoned, "but that crying fit at Jake's house over Grandma showing up on a Youtube clip let me know tonight I've got something hidden inside that's bothering me and I don't even know what the hell it is. Everybody has bad experiences. Maybe I keep dwelling on what was so good about them and forgetting about what was so bad. Anyway, before I pair up again, I need to work on my own life."

Buck pulled a small flask out of his pocket and took a sip of his tonic. There was nothing herbal or medicinal about Buck's tonic. It was simply a few pieces of cinnamon, lemon and wintergreen candy dissolved in cheap vodka but a single sip helped Buck maintain a proper buzz as he spent another evening exploring old Tustenuggee's sidewalks.

"It kind of feels like now is the time to walk down to the bar & check on the incoming coeds from the Wekiwa State Class of 2030 who hit town this week ready to test out their fake IDs and are arriving on the Strip right about now." Buck mused,"I bet there's some gals down there with play pretties so nice they'll bust the top off my eye candy gauge! Hey, let's celebrate the greatest of all time terrific T-town Tuesday, 'till Tuesday's gone! Like Grandma always said, 'Don't take things so seriously, Buck. It'll happen when it needs to happen. Be happy with what you got and work hard to make things better.'

"Maybe I might learn some things about myself on my little hike tonight and these days my old age has been telling me I've been hanging out in the bars long enough. I'm too young to be this damn old! Those damn Yankees on the island lied to me! They told me old age didn't start 'till 80 and it hit me at 75! I feel like I've been cheated out of five years! I guess my consolation is old age usually don't last that long plus now I've learned cranberry lemonade juice is the best thing to drink with your Miralax and it's best to keep a mason jar full of water next to my Efferdent container and I've gotten to be an expert at sticking urine guards inside my underwear.

"After tonight's catharsis, maybe I don't need the pandemonium of a Tuskenuggee barroom. Maybe now is the time to seek the sanctuary of  the serene Wekiwahatchee riverbank and its right down the street"

Buck's thoughts of the river reminded him of a little poem he wrote almost thirty years ago.

"Standing on an old street corner laid out in 1823,

Shaded by tall water oaks all around.

That's why I love T-town.

Sitting on a sandy bank with my feet in a lazy river

Watching the sun go down.

That's why I love T-town."

Buck asked himself, "Why would I want to live anywhere else?"

Buck expressed his appreciation out loud, "Crepe myrtles in the summertime and camellias in the wintertime courtesy of those wonderful old women decades ago who dedicated their lives to this town's neighborhood garden clubs. Old ladies, your long ago effort along these sidewalks was not in vain! Your lives continue to amaze and satisfy this aging son of the Southland."

Buck stopped and stood on the corner of East Margin Street and Adams Avenue while slowly turning himself around and concentrating upon everything within his field of vision. He counted fourteen beautifully shaped crepe myrtles, each one so covered in pink or red blossoms that almost none of the green foliage underneath was visible. Looking down, the streetlight now revealed the sidewalk below Jake's feet covered with the coral red blossoms from Tustenuggee's splendid crepe myrtle trees and this vision produced a flicker of wonder which captured Buck's vivid imagination and the exquisite beauty of his floral landscape seemed to transport him to a time when East Margin Street had no pavement and modern marvels like automobiles, electric streetlights and flush toilets didn't exist.

Buck recalled the lines of that poem he wrote decades earlier, "Standing on an old streetcorner laid out in 1823" 

 Alabama salt works White Gold Alabama Salt

 SIDEWALK STORY 2

Buck allowed his heart to navigate his path home and as he stepped along the sidewalk toward his destination, he passed houses that sheltered the men and women who tried to preserve the Union as well as the houses of the men and women who fought to shatter it. Over 50 of these antebellum structures still stand in Old Town Tustenuggee beside every sidewalk that Buck traveled, each one a testament to the toil of the enslaved men who produced the wood and bricks from which they are constructed and who provided the labor that erected each one. Over the years, some of these old mansions have been broken up into apartments and as Buck passed one of these ancient buildings where he'd lived as a college student when he was going to Wekiwa State, he studied the Greek Revival exterior of the old building and contemplated his first lessons in love and romance which he learned back in 1969 in an upstairs bedroom of that old columned mansion.

"I have every reason in the world to simply find joy in existence," Buck reasoned, "but that crying fit at Jake's house over Grandma showing up on a Youtube clip let me know tonight I've got something hidden inside that's bothering me and I don't even know what it is. Everybody has bad experiences. Maybe I keep dwelling on what was so good about them and forgetting about what was so bad. Anyway, before I pair up again, I need to work on my own life."

Buck pulled a small flask out of his pocket and took a sip of his tonic. There was nothing herbal or medicinal about Buck's tonic. It was simply a few pieces of cinnamon, lemon and wintergreen candy dissolved in cheap vodka but a single sip helped Buck maintain a proper buzz as he spent another evening exploring old Tustenuggee's sidewalks.

"It kind of feels like now is the time to walk down to the bar & check on the incoming coeds from the Wekiwa State Class of 2030 who hit town this week ready to test out their fake IDs and are arriving on the Strip right about now." Buck mused,"I bet there's some gals down there with play pretties so nice they'll bust the top off my eye candy gauge! Hey, let's celebrate the greatest of all time terrific T-town Tuesday, 'till Tuesday's gone! Like Grandma always said, 'Don't take things so seriously, Buck. It'll happen when it needs to happen. Be happy with what you got and work hard to make things better.'

"Maybe I might learn some things about myself on my little hike tonight and these days my old age has been telling me I've been hanging out in the bars long enough. After tonight's catharsis, maybe I don't need the pandemonium of a Tuskenuggee barroom. Maybe now is the time to seek the sanctuary of  the serene Wekiwahatchee riverbank and its right down the street"

Buck's thoughts of the river reminded him of a little poem he wrote almost thirty years ago.

"Standing on an old street corner laid out in 1823,

Shaded by tall water oaks all around.

That's why I love T-town.

Sitting on a sandy bank with my feet in a lazy river

Watching the sun go down.

That's why I love T-town."

Buck asked himself, "Why would I want to live anywhere else?"

Buck expressed his appreciation out loud, "Crepe myrtles in the summertime and camellias in the wintertime courtesy of those wonderful old women decades ago who dedicated their lives to this town's neighborhood garden clubs. Old ladies, your long ago effort along these sidewalks was not in vain! Your lives continue to amaze and satisfy this aging son of the Southland."

Buck stopped and stood on the corner of East Margin Street and Adams Avenue while slowly turning himself around and concentrating upon everything within his field of vision. He counted fourteen beautifully shaped crepe myrtles, each one so covered in pink or red blossoms that almost none of the green foliage underneath was visible. Looking down, the streetlight now revealed the sidewalk below Jake's feet covered with the coral red blossoms from Tustenuggee's splendid crepe myrtle trees and this vision produced a flicker of wonder which captured Buck's vivid imagination and the exquisite beauty of his floral landscape seemed to transport him to a time when East Margin Street had no pavement and modern marvels didn't exist.

 FIRST TIME PUTTING THE CAMERA ON THE RIVERBANK-3 KIT FOXES IN ONE FRAME!