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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 10, 2018 15:41:21 GMT
November 1, 2019
Around noon today the base station called out “P three to base, looks like we’ve got a sheriff’s car coming up.” I was half asleep in my recliner, hoping to get enough rest to work the swing shift on the base station. “Did she say sheriff?” Catherine affirmed that’s what I’d heard, and I thought “Oh crap, just what we needed.” The trail bike started on the second pull, and I headed up the driveway to the gate. They were already there, obviously looking the place over. When I pulled up I said with a big smile “Howdy, how can I help y’all today?” “Are you Mr Swann?” “Yep, that’d be me.” “The reason we’re here is the sheriff and I were talking the other day, and we’d both noticed the majority of the county’s, uh, shall we say less productive citizens have gone missing the past month or so, and there seems to be an increase in women and children in the food lines at the FEMA station. And well, we’d heard rumors that some of the missing guys were heading out here to, uh, ask for food, any chance you’ve seen them?” “We might have, we get folks coming around asking for handouts every now and then, generally we give them what we can and send them on their way.” “So, you haven’t had any problems with thieves or marauders lately?” “Oh no, now we did have a guy that come up from the river a few days ago looking for some food, and we did give him a good portion of a buck that we’d shot, but the last time we saw him he was heading down the river.” “So, how many people do you have staying here?” “Enough to take care of the place, times are hard you know.” “Is there a possibility you might be able to donate any food to the county to help feed the hungry?” “I’d really like to, but we’re barely getting by as it is, and anyway, isn’t that the government’s job?” I guess he didn’t like that, cause all of a sudden things changed. “So you’re telling me you don’t have a militia that that’s been killing people wholesale?” “Goodness no, do I look like the kind of person who’d do that sort of thing? Why, if I had a band of stone cold killers out here do you think they’d be tending animals and working in the garden? We’re farmers and ranchers, just trying to make it through until this world starts making sense again. But if you’re really looking for all those less than productive guys, I’d suggest you go down where the river empties into Table Rock Lake, I hear there’s a big group forming down there.” I guess my double entendres finally hit home, and he realized he was pressing a button he really didn’t want to press. At any rate, his attitude changed again, saying before they left “Have good day, and we’ll look into your suggestion about Table Rock Lake.” “You too, and come back any time, we’ll be glad to see ya.” I’m sure both of us realized I’d never made a move to unlock the gate.
When I recounted the conversation, Catherine, always the smarter of us two, asked if it was wise to bait them like that. I said “Sweetheart, I only have one way of dealing with people, you know that. In an instance like that I let them know, sort of like the old Marine saying goes, I can be your best friend or your worst enemy, your choice.”
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Post by bretf on Apr 12, 2018 13:15:26 GMT
Good stuff Tom!
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 14, 2018 21:12:17 GMT
November 22, 2019
Thanksgiving steaks for everyone! Slaughtered a beef, and had steaks cooked on the grate over the fire pit. The best meal any of us has had in a very long while, sweet potatoes, beets, and spinach salad. The rest of the beef we ground, browned, and canned. The harvest has been put up for quite a while, potatoes, onion, and garlic in the cellar, the rest dried or canned. We’ll make it just fine through the winter.
Jared’s wife Megan asked the blessing, I was surprised when she asked a special blessing for Mr & Mrs Swann who’d taken them in and shared their bounty with them. I started to tear up, it’s a shame to waste such a nice prayer on a lost cause.
We haven’t had any trouble in nearly a month, maybe the deputy’s estimation was right, maybe most of the bad guys around here lost interest in us one way or another. I have to wonder if the sheriff ever found that group of outlaws down at the lake. We’re still standing guard like always, but with the cold weather coming on we’ve shortened the post duty to three hours from four. It means a little less sleep time, changing shifts so often, but nobody wants to shiver for four hours at night. Besides, with no garden work things are a little easier all the way around.
Jared has taken a big part of the load off me over the past month and a half, seems like he’s able to read my mind. We talk often, but invariably we see things from the same perspective, keeping our people safe, and not slacking on security are the priorities. If something were to happen to me the place would be in good hands.
December 8, 2019
Went to Galena yesterday, Jeff, Jimmy, Louis and I took the Bronco and the 8 foot trailer to the outskirts, parked up a dirt road, and left Jimmy and Louis to guard the vehicle while Jeff and I went looking for cooking oil and whatever else might come in handy. The barter fair on the town square was pretty empty, just a few vendors shivering in the cold, but we did find a guy with some “gently used” peanut oil that had been strained and bottled in quart jars. It smelled all right, so I asked the price, and he replied “What are you paying with?” “Old coins, I’ll give a half dollar per quart.” “Whoa, no way, I’ve got to have a dollar in dimes.” “A half and two dimes per, that’s the best I can do.” “Alright, but hey, I’ve got a half can of Crisco I’ll let go for another two dollars.” “Nah, I can’t afford it.” About then I noticed the deputy who’d been out to our place and the sheriff approaching, a little too far apart from each other to be normal. I’m thinking “this can’t be good”, but I gave the deputy a big grin and said “Hey, how ya doing?” The deputy said “Mr Swann, this is Sheriff Durant, I told him about our short talk out at your place and he wanted to meet you.” “Hello Sheriff, it’s good to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. How you’re a constitutional Sheriff, and an Oathkeeper too.” “And I’ve heard a lot about you too Mr Swann, matter of fact, depending on who’s telling it, you’re either a cold blooded murderer, or a good shepherd protecting his flock. Would you mind coming over to my office, I’ve got a couple things I’d like to talk to you about.” “Yeah, well, I’d be glad to talk to you anytime, but I’m not in the mood right now to go over to your office, which happens to be the county jail too. Seeing how I’m not sure what you’re considering me to be, if you’ve got something to say, let’s hear it.”
“All right then, do you prefer Billy or Bill?” “I prefer Mr Swann, we’re not exactly on first name terms as yet.” Well Mr Swann, I’ve got a problem brewing that I need some help with. We have it on good authority that there’s going to be a raid on Galena in the next few days. It seems a pretty good sized group from up around Monett is heading our way, and from what we’ve heard about their activities in other areas, their habit is to kill, rape, and steal most anything of value, then burn the places down when they’re done with them.” “I’m sorry to hear that, but how does that involve us? We’re a good ways from Galena, they’d probably head straight on for Branson West.” “They might, but so far they’ve scoured the countryside for little compounds like yours, and there’s a whole lot more of them than anything you’ve seen before. I’ve asked the army for help, but the troops from Ft Leonard Wood are tied up in Springfield and Joplin trying to keep order, and besides, they said bandits are a civil matter. I’m down to four deputies, and they’re good men, but they’re not suicidal. We need help, so I’m asking you to bring your militia over here to help stop these people.” “Sheriff Durant, I don’t know where you’ve gotten your information, but we’re not a militia. We’re not even what could be called a platoon. We’re just a bunch of farmers and ranchers grouped together for mutual protection, and not that many of us. If we were to throw in with y’all, the best we could do would be five or six people, and that would be leaving our homestead really short handed. Don’t you have any people here in Galena to help?” “Yes, so far I’ve recruited a little over twenty, but they’re not very well armed, and they’re hesitant just like my deputies about going against a bunch that size if there’s no hope of winning.” How many bad guys are there, do you know?” “Last I heard close to 50, maybe a few more, maybe a few less. They’re driving pickups, some pulling trailers.” “Just doing some rough numbers, if we threw in with y’all, that would be about 30 men. If it was done right, that’d be enough, but you couldn’t pull it off with everyone just standing behind barricades, you’d have to pick the place and coordinate it to the last degree. You’d have to have advance warning, and some heavy equipment. If you can guarantee the men, we can get them some decent weapons, then you and I can scout for the right place. One thing though, I’m in charge of my people and anyone you give me.” “I can guarantee the people. From everything I’ve heard, we’re probably three days from trouble, today’s shot, can you be here in the morning and we’ll go looking for the right place?” “I’ll be here at 7 am, have your townspeople here then too. We’ll get them armed, and one of my guys will stay here and show them how to operate the weapons while you and I go looking, okay?” “See you then, and by the way, my first name is Jesse.” “Okay Jesse, you can call me Bill, see you in the morning.”
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Post by paisley on Apr 14, 2018 21:30:22 GMT
Set up....or teamwork?
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 14, 2018 23:34:42 GMT
paisley, Good question, it hadn't really occurred to me, I'm such a trusting soul.
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 15, 2018 20:56:39 GMT
December 15, 2019
It’s been a week since my last entry, I’ll explain later.
When we got home the afternoon of the 8th we went through our inventory of “collected” weapons picking out the ones that would be useful. We had quite a few that were semi-auto, and five that were full auto capable. Nearly all were filthy, and most had cheap scopes, but the dirt could be cleaned, and the scopes would be alright for medium distance. Jared and I set to disassembling them, while a few others started cleaning and lubricating. When we had the first few reassembled Jeff and Jimmy took them out to adjust the sighting. It took until dusk, but when we were finished we had 23 weapons functional and zeroed. That evening we unloaded all the magazines, lubricated them and cleaned the ammo before reloading. There was no way we were going to loan the townspeople the full auto, I’ve seen too many panicky people just pull the trigger and hold it, running out of ammunition in a couple minutes. Or worse yet, heat the barrel and make the weapon inoperable. Our people would be carrying them.
Early the next morning we loaded the Bronco with weapons and ammo, then Jeff, Jimmy and I headed for town. Jared understood he’d be more valuable taking care of the homestead without me saying so.
When we got to town we found Sheriff Jesse had assembled the men as agreed, they were a real mix, some late teenagers, some pensioners, mostly in between. Looking at the weapons they’d brought made me glad we’d brought ours. Bolt actions and lever guns, less than half had semi-autos, and most of those didn’t look all that great. I asked Jesse if I could handle the distribution, which he agreed to. I told the guys “Okay, we’ve got several different type of weapons, some AR-15s, some AK-47s, a few SKS and Mini-14s, they’ve all been clean and sighted. If you have experience with any of these weapons tell us, otherwise you’ll be loaned a weapon and broken into groups where these guys will explain their characteristics, how to un-jam them in case they were to jam, and generally what you’ll need to know about the gun that will keep you alive. After that, you’ll have a chance to fire them down at the bridge. Now, let me make this clear, pay attention to every word my guys say like your life depends on it, it does.
While the weapons were being passed out Jesse and I got in his cruiser, heading out on Hwy 248 west of town. He was driving slow, then stopped. “Bill, I’ve given some thought to this, but I’d like to hear what you think.” “Well, I’ve been thinking too, and trying to put myself in the mind of whoever is running that bunch. I occurs to me the closer to town, the more cautious they’d be. They’d run a scout car out front, maybe even a mile from the main body. They’d have radio communications, and the head man would be in the second or third truck in the convoy. Not being military, they’d have a tendency to bunch up, and since they’ve been successful so far they’re probably over confident in their size and fire power.” Jesse didn’t look at me, but said “You haven’t told be anything I haven’t already thought of, so just exactly do you think we should be looking for as an ambush location?” “I’d say a little more than a quarter mile of straight road, six or seven miles from town, with deep ditches on both sides. It would have to have access drives from one end and the other for big trucks to block it. It should have at least one close high side with cover, and no more than one hundred yards of flat ground on the other, optimally another high side.” Jesse finally look over at me and asked “All that sounds good, but what’s your experience in setting up an ambush like you’re talking about?” “None, but if you saw the movie We Were Soldiers with Mel Gibson, I know a fair amount about fighting my way out of one.”
He started out again, driving slowly. Out of the blue he asked “I’ve heard you stuck a knife through a man’s head while he was sleeping, is that true?” “What? My goodness no, but let’s hypothesize why a person would do something like that. Suppose someone tried to do with a vote what others have tried to do with guns, would you consider them a threat to your and your family’s lives?” We drove on for a while, then he said “You’re a hard SOB, aren’t you.” “Probably no harder than you.” Rounding a curve we found a straight stretch of road with a farm entrance just beyond the curve, and another about a quarter mile up. Ditches four foot deep on both sides, with a steep wooded slope on one side, the other side open to a hilly pasture. I’d forgotten how cold it was until we stepped out of the heated vehicle, and started wondering just how long we could have people in place waiting, too long and we might have a problem with morale, that’s something we’d have to address before we ever started out.
Once we had the location, tactics needed to be discussed, with the few people we had every angle needed to be covered. I asked the Sheriff what his plan was, and he said “I guess spreading people out evenly as we can along both sides, pulling a county gravel truck out when we see the scout car, then pulling another gravel truck out behind them when they’re bunched up. I’ll get on my loudspeaker and demand a surrender, but if they won’t, we’ll have to fight it out.” Just about then I wondered what I’d got myself into. He’d obviously been in law enforcement way too long to understand what needed to be done. In other words, naively stupid. In a voice that betrayed my disbelief, I said “What? Are you out of your damn mind? If that’s your plan, we’re outta here. I came here to kill killers, and you think we should have some kind of fair fight? Jesse, if you ever find yourself in a fair fight, you’re planning stunk.” I continued “I’ll tell you how to solve this problem, we let the scout car go through while hidden out of sight, including the trucks. When the scout car is out of sight around the curve, and our scout at the other end radios the convoy is coming, we wait until the lead truck is about 50 yards from the drive, then pull the truck out. Even if the whole convoy isn’t in the trap, we pull the other truck out behind the main body. I’ll have six people on the slope with full auto weapons, scattered along the length of the trap, they’ll drive the bad guys to the other sides of their trucks, where the main group picks them off from behind that rise. I’d put two men down the road both front and back of the trucks to catch someone running their directions. It’s what’s called a “kill zone”, nothing survives. If you’re not here to kill the guys who would rape your wife and daughter before they can do it, I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 15, 2018 21:01:00 GMT
He must have both felt the heat of my contempt, and finally realized this wasn’t a law enforcement exercise to be handled like an arrest. Anyway, he said “Kill them all?” “They’re coming here to kill you and yours, what do you think?” “Alright, we’ll do it your way, but I’ll keep my deputies with me at the lead gravel truck as a last defense, the rest are yours to do as you want.”
Driving back I said “One more thing Jesse, I wouldn’t doubt that group has sent a spy or two into town a few days ago, if you’re wanting to arrest someone, set up a roadblock a half mile from town and detain anyone heading west.
It was still mid-morning when we got back to town, and the group was at the bridge firing at cans in the river. When they’d all shot at least two magazines, I called them together. In a loud but not shouting voice I said “Good morninng gentlemen, my name is Bill Swann,the Sheriff here has asked me to help coordinate this mission, and there are a lot of things to go over. First, the people we’re going to meet are stone cold killers and rapists, they’ll kill you fast as look at you, so if you can’t pull a trigger on another human being, you're a liability to everyone around you, lay down your weapon now and leave.” I paused to see if anyone was leaving, but none did. “The Sheriff and I have a plan, and that plan will work if everyone here does their part. If anyone wants to second guess us, or decide they’ll do it their way, you can leave now too, this isn’t a democracy, and there’ll be no vote, we all work together or we all die alone. One other thing before we get into the logistics, I can’t abide a coward, and neither can my people. If you can’t shoot the enemy, we’ll shoot you, then the enemy.
“Now then, the logistics. It’s cold and likely to get colder, when we leave here tomorrow morning bring at least three layers of everything, including socks. If you don’t have a sleeping bag, borrow one. Bring enough food and water for three days, once you’re in place you’re staying there. Oh, bring some toilet paper too. There won’t be any fires, or gathering of more than two people, it could be a long wait, but we’re staying until either the job is done or we have word the threat has gone a different direction. While you’re sitting there cold and miserable, just remember, we’ll be out there to stop killers, you may not like it, but they aren’t giving you a choice.
On the way home Jeff asked how many I thought would be there in the morning, I told him his guess was a good as mine. I was surprised when all but one was there, looking like they were outfitted for a moose hunting trip in backwoods Montana. The deputy told me the one missing guy was over in the jail, stopped him heading out of town last night.
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Post by themotherhen on Apr 15, 2018 22:56:59 GMT
Ozarks Tom, this story is shaping up, thanks for sharing! It is good that there are people with knowledge of defense, some of us are not so good in that area.
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Post by paisley on Apr 16, 2018 2:21:40 GMT
The man missing .....was not the sheriff's son in law? You, know someone close and trusted to the sheriff....such a character would be a true test of the sheriff's mental growth to a new reality.
Esp. If after he hangs ...well he risked the sheriff daughter being raped an killed. He would be awake to society weak people in able to work together to maintain their community out of fear of losing to a larger band.
Standing one's ground with out confidence of their mates makes for traders.
Say, the daughter married a guy from over the hill some years before....
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 16, 2018 17:58:45 GMT
December 15, 2019 – Continued
The Sheriff had the five yard gravel trucks waiting, so we had everyone load their gear and climb in. We’d discussed finding a back route intersecting Hwy 248 that only locals would know, and we headed east out of town, catching a series of gravel roads until we were on the highway about three miles from the ambush point. When we stopped at the first farm drive everyone got out, and Jeff called them over to the Bronco for their ammunition. We only had three or four magazines loaded per man, along with container of loose cartridges bringing the total to 200 rounds per man. Once everyone was fully stocked I climbed up on the Bronco’s tailgate and explained the plan, adding a few details. “Once the convoy is stopped, the people on the near slope will open up with full auto fire, that should drive them to the other side, then it will be your turn to open up. They’ll take cover in the ditch on the pasture side, the ditch on the slope side is exposed from above so they won’t want to be there, but we’ll have three men in each big truck bed shooting down the length of the ditch. There are several things in our favor, first of course is surprise, second is these aren’t trained infantry and they’re going to be panicked and shooting fast and wild, third is we don’t have to be in a hurry with our fire, once they’re in the ditch they aren’t going anywhere and we can take our time finishing them off. Pick your target, exhale, then fire, duck back down and move over a couple feet, and do it again. Make every shot count. Nobody shows themselves until told to, no exceptions, just one man getting curious could get us all killed. Jeff Bailey here has a radio, and he’ll be with the guys in the pasture, he’ll tell you when it’s your time to act. Now we’ll take you to your positions, if you want to switch among yourselves that’s fine, but the spacing needs to stay the same.”
I hate waiting. Patience has never been my strong suit, but sometimes you just don’t have a choice. I’d have given anything for a pack of Winstons, even after all these months I still haven’t figured out what to do with my hands without a smoke.
The 19 men in the pasture had if the worst, the north wind was blowing right across them. The guys in the trucks had it best, out of the wind and all, plus they had each other to talk to. Those of us on the slope didn’t have it too bad, at least we had trees and brush for some cover, and wedging in behind a big tree kept us from sliding downhill. Louis was the lonely one, stationed a half mile up the road on a small hill, all alone with his radio.
I’d brought six men from the homestead, I sure hated leaving the place so short handed, but this was for our protection as much as Galena’s, and I knew Jared would do his best to have something to come home to.
We waited every miserable minute of that night, you’d think the wind would die down after dark, but it didn’t. It was somewhere around 11 o’clock the next day when Louis keyed his handheld saying “Got an SUV heading this way, I’ll let you know.” About a minute later he keyed again, saying “They’re coming, about a quarter mile behind the SUV.” I called the Sheriff saying “Like we said, let the SUV go, when he’s around the curve pull out, truck two, take your instructions from Louis.”
The big trucks were pulled well back out of sight, so the timing was hairy, too late and the lead vehicles would get away, too soon and not get the whole convoy blocked from behind. Jesse was driving the front blocker, and pulled it off perfectly. The lead bandit truck nearly t-boned the gravel truck. Jesse is a big man, but jumped from the driver’s seat to the other side opening up into the bandit’s windshield, then jumped out the other side.
They were pretty bunched up, nearly tailgating each other it seemed. Louis noted which was the last truck, and watched it go past the drive, then told the driver to pull in. The trap was set.
All of us on the slope were well up the hill to stay out of view, and quickly moved down to a clear view of the road. Once there we opened up with three and five round bursts into the trucks, spreading the fire up and down the line. I have no idea how many we hit, but it must have been quite a few. As anticipated the bad guys first took up position on the far side of the trucks and started firing back. I keyed my radio and yelled “Jeff, now, now!” In just a few seconds the men in the pasture started taking down the men at the trucks, just a few shots at first, then the group mentality took over and the rest started firing.
When the bandits realized they were exposed they jumped into the ditch, and the guys in the gravel trucks continued picking them off. I don’t know exactly how long the firefight lasted, probably not more than four or five minutes, when the bandits towards the middle threw their hands up to surrender.
I called “Everyone cease fire! Cease fire! Sheriff, tell them to come out of the ditch hands empty and up.” Jesse called out on his bullhorn “This is Sheriff Durant, if you want to live, come out of the ditch with your hands up”, and about 15 or so men scrambled out of the ditch.
The men in the pasture came over the rise and covered them while they laid on the ground, but staying out of view of any wounded in the ditch that might still want to fight.
I was walking towards the front gravel truck when Jesse walked up “Damn Bill, you’re hit!” “Huh? I am? I look down and could see just a bit of blood and hole in my barn coat on my right side, I felt around the back and sure enough another patch of blood and another hole. “Well I’ll be damned, I sure am, couldn’t be too bad, I’m still walking. You know Jesse, we never did talk about what to do with any prisoners we might have.” “Bill, I’m a law enforcement official, sworn on a bible, I’ve got a hunch if I left here right now there wouldn’t be any prisoners, but that’s not the way this can work.” “I understand, even in these times you’ve got a job to do, let’s clear the trucks and the ditch of weapons, then put the prisoners to work loading the dead and wounded on a truck. You got any idea how we came out?” “I’m not for certain, but it looks like two dead and four wounded in the pasture, one dead in the far truck, why don’t you stay here and I’ll send a deputy with an aid kit to bandage you up.” “Okay, I’ll be right around here, but I just want to see something.” I walked over to the second truck in line, one that I’d shot up pretty good at the outset. Looking in I could see a couple radios, a couple rifles, nice ones, and two dead bandits. The guy in the passenger seat was a sight to behold. Prison tattoos on his arms, neck, and even his shaved head. A burly guy with a full black beard, scary looking even in death, but the topper was the two stars pinned to his lapels, we got the “General”. Walking back to the truck I started feeling dizzy, and decided to sit down, but I didn’t make it.
Apparently they’d driven me to Springfield in the back of the Sheriff’s car, because I woke up in a big tent just outside the Cox Hospital. The hospital itself was pretty useless, having run out of diesel for the generator months ago, so they’d put up army tents heated with wood stoves. At any rate, they said they’d done a surgery to stop the internal bleeding and I’d be just fine in a few weeks. They lied. Leave it to the bandits to have dirty ammunition, or maybe the hospital for not having enough antibiotics, or even the equipment to sterilize their tools, but I’m running a hell of a fever, and not always sure what’s going on. I think I’ve probably caught what put down a friend, Old Vet, so unless a miracle happens this is probably my last entry. But, every time I see her, I tell Catherine I love her, and I’m glad to be home.
January 2, 2020
Postscript: This is Jared Bailey, Bill’s friend, Catherine just gave me this journal and I’d like to finish it. We laid Bill Swann to rest in the flower garden in the driveway island in front of the house, enough said.
The Sheriff, under color of martial law, convened a court the day after the battle, tried, convicted, and hung the bandits the next day. As Bill would say, good enough for them.
We’ll see, but we’ve heard Stone County is the last place in Missouri marauders want to be, it’s got a reputation now.
The latest news is the country is going to the gold standard again, which might not mean much to most, but when Catherine heard it she handed me a shovel and said “Come with me.” We’ll be doing just fine.
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Post by paisley on Apr 16, 2018 19:51:38 GMT
You just had to mention vet....now I a balling. Miss him you know....
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Post by themotherhen on Apr 16, 2018 20:55:03 GMT
You just had to mention vet....now I a balling. Miss him you know.... Me too, I made it through the rest of it but that line got me.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2018 22:19:10 GMT
Excellent!!
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Post by farmgirl on Apr 17, 2018 3:30:12 GMT
You have a gift for story writing!
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Post by joebill on Apr 18, 2018 3:08:29 GMT
Tom, years ago, I won a writing contest and took home the marbles for the "Southwest writer's conference" in Albuquerque, NM, and the judge was an editor on staff at Berkley Penguin books. She offered to buy the book if I made some commercial changes, but y'all know how I am, so it never happened.
She told me that those who educated her told her that the first person narrative was the most difficult of all formats to pull off, and no first time author should even attempt it. She said that in spite of that, I did it well and should stay with it.
I am here to tell you that you did it even better than I did at the time, and while I NEVER tell anybody what they should do, I often tell people what they should consider.....and I think you should consider self=publishing some of your work.
People have told me the same thing and it had NO effect, but at least I have done my duty by passing it along. U_DUN_GOOD!.......Joe
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