"Shane and the Bear"

The song "Shane and the Bear" was written by my Uncle Randy Allred and his cousin Rob Burk. The incident that inspired the song occurred around in the late 1970s in a remote area of the White Mountains known as Patty Creek. We were attending a Burk Reunion, that was comprised of members of my Grandma Allred's family, when my Dad's cousin, Shane Kelly, went fishing at the crack of dawn with my Aunt Sharon and my cousin Trevor. While he was fishing, Shane heard some rustling and was startled to see a bear. He ran one way, and the bear ran the other. Shane met up with Trevor and Sharon, and the three of them quickly evacuated the area. When they returned to camp, they became instant celebrities as they shared their story over and over again. The adventure was soon put to verse by Randy and Rob, and the song became a family favorite to be sung around campfires at every family reunion for years to come.
When I was writing my book, The Narrows Escape, about my many cherished memories from past family reunions, the song "Shane and the Bear" was one of the first memories to come to mind. Over the many drafts of the book, the bear scene remained a constant - though the details evolved to fit the changing story. In an effort to limit the number of characters in the book, I assigned Shane's role in the story to Devin's older brother Dane. I later changed Dane's name to Shane since I wanted to use the song in the book without changing the wording used in the original song. I received permission from Randy and Rob to include the song in my book, and named two of the DTB cousins' uncles Randy and Rob to make sure that the intellectual rights to the material was attributed to the correct individuals. All other names in the book have been changed to emphasize the fact that they are fictional.

Happy Father's Day

I want to wish my dad a Happy Father's Day, and say "thank you" for all the lessons you've taught me over the years. In honor of my dad, I decided to post a few deleted clips that remind me of him.

clip 1:

“Just be glad it’s not Uncle Darrell taking the pictures," said Trey.

"Why's that?" Brady’s dad asked indignantly. "I take great pictures!"

"You do," agreed Trey. "It’s just that you take forever. If you were the designated photographer, Brady would still be in that sand trap while you were lining up the shot!"

Brady and everyone else burst into laughter. They had all endured the interminable wait that preceded one of his dad’s pictures, and could easily visualize the scene. His dad just harrumphed, though, and kept wading on.

clip 2:

As Darrell Allred led his Scouts from the chartered buses to the entrance of the camp, he felt a strong sense of excitement well up within his soul. “Okay, everybody … look sharp!” he ordered as they marched. “Head up, shoulders back, stomach in, chest out!”

Darrell was average height and trim; and very proud of the fact that he still fit in the uniform he had purchased when called for his first tour of duty as a Scoutmaster fifteen years before. His brown hair was now sprinkled with gray and was getting thinner each year. Due to the heavy winds projected in the weather forecast, he was wearing his full-brimmed scout hat to make sure his head was properly covered.

He had been involved with the Boy Scouts in one capacity or another for almost thirty-five years; since he himself had joined a troop at the age of eleven. He had attained the rank of Eagle, like his father before him, and had helped inspire three of his younger brothers earn the rank as well. Now, he was doing his part to pass the tradition on to the next generation.

clip 3:

Devin’s family was always the first to arrive at family functions. Uncle Arthur had somehow missed out on the family “late gene” that plagued the rest of the family. And although the other Allreds were also habitually late, Brady’s dad, Darrell, must have gotten a double dose of the gene – his own, plus Uncle Arthur’s portion.

Brady heaved a sigh as his dad ran into the house again to grab "one more thing" that they'd forgotten. At this rate, the party would be over by the time they got there.

I love you Dad!

In loving memory...

Three years ago, on Memorial Day weekend, by grandmother died. In her memory, I wrote a poem entitled, "Our Honey." Honey was the name I called her some forty years ago as a toddler. The name stuck, both within the family and out. As we remember and pay our respects to our loved ones who have passed on, I'd like to take this opportunity to honor one of the greatest influences in my life - our Honey.

“Our Honey”

It’s hard to express the way I feel, as I contemplate her life,

Her cheery nature, her merry laugh, through good times and through strife.

An example of faith, and expression of hope the embodiment of love,

Honey was a precious, golden gift from our Heavenly Father above.

Like music floating on the breeze, she enriched us with her smile,

Her testimony, her service to others, her benevolence without guile.

Honey taught us how to live, to love, to sing, to work, to play;

She taught us about God’s eternal plan, and showed us how to pray.

I remember her wassail, her love of Rook, the pictures on her wall,

Her nativity sets, her ceramic gifts, her concern for one and all.

I’ll cherish the times she played for us, the organ, piano, and harp,

Her love of music was passed on to us, whether our skills be flat or sharp.

Her family was her greatest love, she was happiest when we were together;

Her lifelong goal, her heart’s desire, was to be together forever.

From Christmas Eves to theater passes, to cruises out to sea,

From time shares to the Polar Express, she united our family.

Her love extended beyond the grave, through genealogy,

She worked in the temple to seal with love our entire family tree.

Now she’s gone to join the ones who have passed to the other side,

They’ve welcomed her with open arms, eyes filled with love and pride.

Now we who still remain on Earth, will miss our beautiful Honey;

But we can see her again, if we endure to the end - a treasure more precious than money.

First anniversary

The Narrows Escape was published one year ago today. I watched the second copy come off the press - which was a pretty cool experience. Of course, the greatest feeling was knowing that I had finally accomplished a lifelong dream. From the moment I started writing the first draft of The Narrows Escape, until the time it got published was just over 11 years. There were many times I felt discouraged, and several others that I thought about giving up, but I didn't. With each rejection letter, I read through my manuscript again, making small changes here, and major one there. Finally, with the help of Kent Minson and many others, I achieved my goal.

Why was I so persistent? One reason was that I didn't want all that work to go to waste. Another was that I like to accomplish what I set out to do. But the force that drove me more than any other can be summed up by the words of the song "I Was Here" by Lady Antebellum:

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ladyantebellum/iwashere.html

Although I hope that I am leaving my mark in other aspects of my life as well, my goal as an author is to somehow touch the lives of others for good. If my books can make a positive difference in the life of even one reader, then all the work will be worth it.

Arthur and the Rangers

The mystery element that is prevalent in the second half of The Narrows Escape took the book to the next level. Before it was introduced, the book was a fun adventure, but lacked some of the drama that now exists. Of course, once I added the mystery, I had to remove or change large sections of the text. The following deleted scenes show the relationship between Arthur and the rangers as it was prior to the change:

            “Is it usually this dangerous?” asked Arthur looking back at the dam from the other side. The water was shooting through the small gap, then racing through a narrow trench before plunging into another slow-moving pool. He could easily imagine someone getting stuck in there. On the other hand, the natural water slide looked pretty fun.

"This is one of the trickier sections," admitted Ranger Smith, “but it’s usually not this bad. There’s just too much water flowing through here right now, and a lot of loose debris. It doesn’t make a good combination for hiking.”

"Do you think that other large group is already out?" Ranger Sorensen asked.

"They must be - one way or the other," Ranger Smith predicted gloomily. “It’s too bad our radios won’t work in here or we could get an update on the search.”

Arthur had been so absorbed in his preoccupation with his family and finding Shane that he had almost forgotten about the other group they were supposed to be looking for. The implication of the ranger's remark did nothing to raise his spirits.

But it would do no good to dwell on such things. He tried to dismiss the thoughts and focus his mind on hiking. The sooner they found Shane and the others, the better. Luckily the ground wasn’t very rocky, due to all the silt that had been dumped by the flood. Speed was of the essence.

“What’s that?” asked Ranger Sorensen, pointing toward the base of the cliff to his left. He walked over, reached down, and plucked a soggy boot out of the water. He examined it closely and passed it to his partner. “Were any of the hikers we’ve met so far missing a boot?”

“I don’t think so,” Ranger Smith replied. He handed it to Arthur. “Does it look familiar to you?”

Arthur took it and examined it. It looked fairly new, despite being waterlogged. “It’s not Shane’s, and no one else lost a boot in our group,” he informed them.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” said Ranger Smith. When Arthur looked at him questioningly he added, “It’s too new to have been sitting there for more than a day or two. If it doesn’t belong to someone we’ve already seen, then it must belong to that other group. And you know what that means.”

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat as the ranger stuck the boot in his backpack. They then pressed on - a little faster than before.

##

The rangers didn’t stop for lunch. Rather, they munched on more granola bars and trail mix. Arthur, of course, did the same. He was just as anxious to keep searching for flood victims as they were – probably more.

"There's a large group ahead," said Ranger Sorensen excitedly. "It looks about the same size as the group we’re looking for too!"

The two rangers jogged forward, and Arthur struggled to keep up. As they got closer, it was evident that several members of the group were limping along the best they could. One hiker was even being carried by another. The rangers hailed them and the group came to a halt.

"Was your group hit by the flood?" Ranger Smith asked without preamble.

Several members of the group nodded their heads, the sorrow on their faces evident. Although he must have known the answer already, Ranger Smith asked the dreaded question: "Is everyone accounted for?"

A burly man, strong but badly bruised, shook his head and answered, among the sobs of some of his companions, "There are two missing. My brother's girlfriend didn't get out in time, and when he jumped in to save her, the flood swept him away too. I tried to grab them as they went by, but only succeeded in getting pummeled by the logs myself." His voice choked up and he couldn't say anything more.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Ranger Smith sighed emphatically before continuing. "In any case, we’ve got first aid equipment. Who’s injured?"

Several of the hikers came forward with severe cuts that had been bandaged with strips of T-shirts, sacrificed for the purpose. The first patient, however, was the young teenage hiker who was being carried. His father set him on a large rock and Ranger Smith examined his leg.

"I’m afraid it’s broken," assessed Jason Smith as he carefully examined the heavily bruised limb. "Luckily we have the equipment to stabilize it. Unfortunately, we’ll have to keep carrying him out. There’s no way to get a chopper low enough to lift him out."

When Ranger Sorensen opened his pack, he pulled out the boot they had found. Holding it up he asked, "By the way, did anyone lose a shoe?"

"Actually, that's mine!" the teenager exclaimed. "I lost it in the flood! How did you find it?”

"I found it in the river wedged between some rocks," Ranger Sorensen explained. He handed the boot over to the boy's father since he wasn't going to be able to wear it anyway. He then got started putting a splint on the injured leg.

While the rangers worked, Arthur interrogated the hikers to find out if any of them could give him any clue about his son's whereabouts. His heart ached a little more with each negative response. Given the circumstances, however, maybe no news was good news. All he knew was that his son was lost, and nowhere to be found.

After finishing his interrogation, Arthur waited impatiently for the rangers to finish. Finally, he could bear it no longer. He couldn’t just sit and wait any longer while his son might be lying somewhere along the banks ahead, waiting for someone to rescue him. He had to do something!

After explaining his desire to the rangers, Arthur bid them farewell and headed down the river alone. As soon as the rangers were out of sight, he wondered if he had done the right thing. He wasn't afraid of getting lost - it wasn't hard to follow the river. But his father, a lifelong Scouter, had taught him to never hike alone. If something were to happen, he would be all alone. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

##

It took half an hour for the rangers to bandage all the wounds. When they were finished, the rangers finally stopped to rest. It was only then that Jason Smith realized how weary he was after their arduous hike with little food or rest. If not for the swirling river at his feet, he could easily lie down right there and take a nice, long nap. Luckily, they were getting close to the end.

He hadn't dared mention anything to Arthur, but he was afraid that his son's chances of survival at this point were looking very slim. Still, he wished their former companion luck.

After a few minutes, the rain started coming down harder, and he focused back on the task at hand. Although he was still worn out, it was time to rise and escort the grief-stricken group out of the canyon. If not for the danger that lurked overhead, and the somber mood of the devastated group, he might have actually enjoyed this last, very beautiful stretch which would lead them back to park headquarters. Once there, he could head home for a good meal, a nice hot shower, and some much needed rest.

The "Green Monster"

Since today is St. Patrick's Day, I thought it would be appropriate to share a deleted scene regarding the "Green Monster." As you are probably aware, the Green Monster is the name given to the massive left field wall in Fenway Park. It is also the name Brady and his cousins gave to the old, green, canvas tent that Uncle Darrell's family slept in on camping trips. As a kid, I was always a bit jealous of my cousins because their families got to camp out in campers while my family had to sleep in a tent. It wouldn't have been so bad if it was new and easy to put up. But the Green Monster was a relic from the 60's, and had a musty smell that grew stronger by the year. Worse yet, it took about six people to set it up, so my dad always had to recruit the help of cousins who were unlucky enough to be in the vecinity whenever it was time to put up the tent. It wasn't a quick job either. You were usually stuck there for 30 minutes while my dad tried to figure out which poles went where, or borrowed stakes to replace the once that had gotten lost or broken since the last camping trip. Actually, it wouldn't have been so bad if my cousins weren't sleeping in cozy campers while I was shivering in the tent and avoiding rain drips on nights the weather turned bad - which seemed to happen on an annual basis. Here is the clip:

By the time they arrived at the campground Wednesday evening, the sun was already starting to set. While his cousins got to spend the last hour of daylight exploring their new surroundings, Brady was forced to spend it helping his dad put up the “Green Monster” – a name Brady and his siblings had unaffectionately given the old, green canvas tent. It was a relic from the 60s, and had withstood the effects of rain and sun so many times that the faded material gave off a distinct musty odor.

Whenever the kids tried to convince Brady's dad to buy a motor home, or at least a camper, he would always retort that half the fun of camping was roughing it. One of the worst parts of “roughing it” was using the local restroom facilities. While Devin and Trey’s campers had small “restroom” facilities (a port-a-potty in a small compartment), Brady’s family used whatever facilities were available – or even made their own, if necessary.

Fortunately, this campground had outhouses. After a quick stop by the tent to pick up some toiletries, Brady's dad grabbed a flashlight and led the entire family to the pair of outhouses on the edge of the campground. There they took turns using the ghoulish toilets. Not only did they stunk to high heaven, they looked as if they hadn't been cleaned in at least a decade.

“I don’t wanna go in there?” declared Christina, plugging her nose.

“It’s not that bad,” said Mom, trying not to gag on the noxious fumes that flowed out whenever someone opened the door.

“I’ll wait,” Christina persisted.

“For six days?” asked Mom. “You couldn’t last six hours. No, I’m afraid we’re stuck using these.”

“But I’m gonna fall in!” wailed Christina as she walked inside, and peered down through the seat into the waste vault below.

“I’ll hold you,” Mom insisted, closing the door behind them.

For a moment, as he stood there in his shorts and T-shirt shivering in the cold, Brady wondered why he’d spent so much time looking forward to this trip. For some reason, whenever he and his cousins reminisced about the reunions, Brady always forgot the barbaric conditions he often endured. It was probably because his cousins didn’t have to suffer them.

After everyone was through, the family marched back to their tent, where they washed their hands in a large bowl filled with cold water. Then they brushed their teeth, using water from the family’s three-gallon water jug, spitting into the weeds at their feet.

“I’ll be thinking of you sleeping on that nice, hard ground as I’m enjoying the soft cushions in our nice, warm camper,” said Devin when he came over to say goodnight.

“Gee thanks,” muttered Brady as he covetously eyed his cousins’ campers.

After changing into his sweats, Brady climbed into his blue sleeping bag and tried to get comfortable. He had to readjust his half-inch thick foam pad a couple of times to get off a rock or root that had created an uncomfortable lump underneath his right shoulder blade. Eventually, he found a relatively flat plot of earth and drifted off to sleep.

Lake hike

In the early drafts of The Narrows Escape, the family went on a hike around the lake on the Saturday night of the family reunion. The purpose was to show the progress Trey was making walking on his ankle, as well as a little foreshadowing. However, I didn't feel that it moved the story along enough, and added it to my "DTB clips" file. Here is the clip:

After the horseshoe tournaments were over, Uncle Darrell asked if anyone wanted to take a hike around the lake before dinner. At first, several of the other parents – particularly Aunt Doris - declared that they wouldn’t let their kids go anywhere near the lake with bears on the loose. But after Uncle Darrell assured them that the bears were more scared of them than they were of the bears, they finally relented.

Devin was surprised when Trey announced that he was going to go too. “Are you taking your crutches?” Devin asked.

“No, I’m going to try to do it on my own,” Trey informed him. “If I can’t hike without them now, there’s no way I’ll be able to do the Narrows hike.”

“You’re still planning on going?” Brady asked in surprise.

“I’m going to try,” answered Trey. “I’ve been relying too much on my crutches.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for it? It’s going to be a long hike,” Uncle Marvin reminded him.

“I’ve been walking around camp a lot today, and it’s getting better,” Trey assured him.

Uncle Marvin looked doubtful. “Okay, but I’m taking the crutches along just in case.”

As they started out, Devin kept an eye on Trey to see how he did. Like Uncle Marvin, Devin had his doubts; but after the first couple of steps, Trey’s limp became almost invisible. Still, Trey couldn’t completely hide the grimace that would occasionally crease his face.

##

As they hiked, Trey could feel his father's eyes watching him like a hawk. He knew that he had to convince his dad that he was fine if he had any hope of making the Narrows hike. It took some effort, but eventually he was able to walk with only the slightest trace of a limp. He snuck a few peeks at his dad, and was pleased to note that even he seemed satisfied.

As they walked, they kept a sharp eye out for animals. Despite Uncle Darrell’s assertions, Trey was a little edgy about the possibility of running into another bear. Although he was walking fine enough, running would be a completely different story. But the only animals they saw were a couple of squirrels, a butterfly, and several birds.

Unfortunately, Devin and Brady started talking sports again. One of Trey’s main motivations for coming on the hike was to spend some time with his cousins. They had been having all the fun without him. But even now that he was with them, he was feeling left out again.

Luckily, the conversation ended when they arrived at the dam. It wasn’t that big, but several fishermen were fishing from it anyway.

“By the way, did any of you kids catch any fish this morning?” asked Uncle Darrell as he watched the fishermen cast and reel in their lines.

With all the excitement that morning, Trey had almost completely forgotten about the fishing contest. “I did,” he announced.

“Me too!” chimed in Brady.

When no one else answered in the affirmative, Uncle Darrell found out the particulars, and pronounced them the winners of the two awards – Brady for the most fish, and Trey for the biggest.

“Hey, we still have time tonight before the contest ends,” countered Devin.

“You’re not going fishing tonight,” Aunt Jen retorted. “Not after this morning.”

Devin tried to convince her that it would be safe, but to no avail.

“It’s too bad,” said Shane, as they headed back towards camp.

“Why’s that?” asked Devin curiously.

“Cause I would have gotten another award if I’d had another chance to catch some fish,” Shane replied.

“Only in your dreams,” jeered Devin. “I could out-fish you anytime.”

“Then how come you never have?” retorted Shane.

“At least I don’t get scared off by bears!”

“Only because you’ve never seen one,” pointed out Shane. He turned away, and put some distance between himself and the younger boys.

“He’s such a jerk!” Devin hissed, only loud enough for his cousins to hear.

“Sometimes,” agreed Trey.

“No, he’s always this way,” argued Devin. Trey didn’t agree. He’d seen how well Shane treated his sisters, and the younger cousins. He only saw this side of Shane when he was competing with Devin, trying to establish his superiority. When neither he nor Brady replied, Devin added, “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a brother.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Trey. He’d give almost anything to have a brother.

“Yes I do,” declared Devin.

“You’d feel bad if something happened to him,” said Trey.

“No I wouldn’t,” Devin said firmly.

Nothing Trey could say was going to change Devin’s mind. He just hoped Devin wouldn’t be forced to eat his words some day.