Making New Friends and Building New Relationships for July 28, 2014

Oscar Crawford

Welcome to this Edition of Making New Friends and Building New Relationships. In today's edition, Part 5 of Traveling American and Going Home July 4th and introducing a new blogroll of interesting service websites, and Behind the Waterfall Contest. Love and Blessings to all who visit and share.

Oscar Crawford

Traveling America

and Going Home July 4th, Part 5

Clyde and Betty Crawford on left
Wedding Day July 4, 1951
Cora Bell and Oscar Crawford
Best Man and Maid of Honor on right

I have crossed the country to visit my parents for their 63rd wedding anniversary on July 4th. There I spent time with my parents Clyde and Betty Crawford and our family in Gamaliel, Kentucky. We shared our love for God and for each other through food, fun, and fireworks.

Pastor Joshua Hale

On July 5th, I traveled from Gamaliel to Franklin to be near Bowling Green to preach on the morning of July 6th in the church where I was ordained in 1978. Pastor Reverend Joshua Hale is the pastor of the Taylor Chapel AME Church. His father, the Reverend Frederick Eugene Hale had been pastor while I was there 28 years earlier.

In Franklin, I stayed at the home of my baby sister, LaSandra. I had performed her wedding ceremony to her husband Joe Woods years earlier in my parents’ front yard under the most beautiful maple tree. While staying with them, I learned something about the maternal side of my family that blew me out of the water.

First, I must tell you an incidental that will make the rest of the story work together. As a boy, my family would always visit my mother’s childhood church for an annual daylong event in the village of Settle.

Colored people, so called at the time, would descend upon the hamlet Greenville Church on the 4^th Sunday in July from the northern cities of Louisville, Indianapolis and Chicago to spend the day with family and friends from childhood. Preaching, singing, and shouting filled the church for the day and the church would raise enough money to manage its budget for the entire year.

Granny Gwen

Everybody in attendance was colored from the noted dark-skinned of us to the brown to the bright to damn near white, except one family. One family was always present under a tree with washtubs full of pop for sale on ice. They were white. As I got older I asked, “Is there no one colored who can sell pop?”

I would later learn these were my mother’s half siblings. No one had ever told me about them. My mother is an only child to a single mother, my awesome Granny Gwen. I named my first daughter after her. My mom is the offspring of the master of the sharecropper plantation and my grandmother.

I had always wondered who the white man was who would come to Granny Gwen’s house every Saturday afternoon when we would be there to visit. He always gave her a brown paper bag. He would talk to my grandmother for a moment. Sometime my mother would be looking on. I saw mother and the man look at each other but never a word passed between them.

Once my father, my brother Ronnie and I came home for midday meal from working the farm to find mother crying. Dad went to comfort her. We could only watch what we did not understand.

We ate something quickly and made our way back to the field. While we rode the tractor back to work, Dad told us mom had read about her father dying in the paper. Ronnie and I looked at each other with wide eyes. This was the man, who came to Granny Gwen’s house on Saturdays. We discovered a grandfather we never knew. His name is Eb Cockrell.

Now, back to what I learned while staying with my sister LaSandra and my brother – in – law, Joe Woods. When my sister told this story to Joe, another startling discovery emerged.

When she mentioned the name Eb Cockrell, Joe’s eyes got wide and lit up like a marquee of coming attractions. Joe’s family and Eb Cockrell’s family are the same family. My sister and her husband and all of us connect by a bloodline. While this may not seem so strange to the people who create narratives about southerners, it is a revelation to all of us.

Nowhere in Eb Cockrell’s wildest dreams could he have envisioned this future. I despised his existence for years even as I acknowledged my mother loved the father who never cared for her, as a father should.

She felt sorry for him. She believed he loved her and Granny Gwen in the only ways available given his social circumstances. For that, she honored him as the person he was to her. Over time, I have learned to love him too as I have watched God bring together a family in only ways God can.

No one is to be praised or blamed for the past. The present is all our responsibility to bring our best love and person to share. As a writer and as the grandson to the grandfather I never knew, I will search to know the story of Eb Cockrell without whom I would not exist.

Next time, the family and friends grow as I near the time I must go back to Arizona.

Service Websites

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Behind the Waterfall Available August 1st

Adventure in the unknown with Ossana Mil to save Earth from the Priest Masters of Hell on Second Earth the Lords of Fear and Oppression. Walk with Ossana and learn to live with no fear in the face of insurmountable evil. Face the Lords of Hell. Get ready. Behind the Waterfall is no picnic. Love requires courageous hope.

My name is Ossana Mil. I am third heir in the line of my Mugud (moo GOOOD). What I am about to share with you has never been told. If you find my story to be of value and you believe in the ancient ideas of hope and love, tell and retell this story where ever you can as often as you can. People hunger for hope and love.

In the world of my people, our grandmothers raise us because the maturity of their wisdom exceeds that of our mothers. We know our mothers but our mothers apprentice under their mothers to prepare to raise the next generation’s children when we give birth to them.

I have been chosen by my grandmother, My Mugud to save Earth whenever the Earth is threatened. Join me as we venture to Second Earth where the Priest Masters of Hell want to control Second Earth through torture and fear.

Read the first three chapters of Behind the Waterfall.  http://oscarcrawfordmedia.blogspot.com/2014/07/behind-waterfall-first-three-chapters.html

Behind the Waterfall Contest

Get your free copy of Behind the Waterfall when you find the solve the two piece anagram puzzle. There are two clues. The first is on the cover of the book. It is a name. The second is the name of the capital city of the 11th largest economy in the world hidden in the first three chapters. Good Luck. 

Email your answers oscarcrawfordmedia@gmail.com. Submit as many answers as you want. Only one book per winner. Be the first to submit both correct answers and receive the FREE eBook and the paperback when it becomes available.

Making New Friends and Building New Relationships - July 23rd Edition

Oscar Crawford

Welcome to this Edition of Making New Friends and Building New Relationships for July 23, 2014. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. taught that love is the only power capable of transforming and enemy into a friend.

In this Edition:
1.  Traveling America and Going Home July 4th, Pt 4
2.  Derrick Farris, Author on Fire
3.  Publications for 2014
4.  Coming Next Week

Enjoy yourself today. Share my experience. Life can be a beautiful experience when you intend to love and make new friends everyday. I encourage you to live and love like that.  I know you can.

Traveling America and Going Home July 4th, Part 4

When July 4th arrived it was time to go across the Tennessee Border for fireworks. Three generations of Crawfords pooled our dollars and away we went. This was going to be our best firework ever. After wheeling and dealing, we walked away with enough entertainment to sound like a small war in our neighborhood.

Front - Left to Right
Betty Jane Crawford ad Clyde Crawford, Jr.
Back Left to Right
LaSandra Crawford - Woods, Oscar Crawford,
L'Tanya Crawford, Ronnie Crawford and Lenora tooley

Sisters cooked favorite foods preparing for the family to gather in the afternoon. A Texas Hold Em Tournament was scheduled with fireworks to begin as soon as it was dark. It was the first time all five of us, my brother and sisters, had been together in 28 years.  When the darkness came, it was time to make the sky rumble. The neighbors know what is coming and make allowance for our noise since we do it only once a year.

We sang. We danced in the street. Our parents took it all in and were good sports about it all. We are blessed. They are always with us for our activities even allowing for new ways of doing things. 

My mother, Betty Jane is an only child and her story is foundation to the development of America. I will tell her story in time to come.We are the family only God could create. 

My father, Clyde Crawford, Jr. is the eldest of four. His and mom's legacy is all of us, five children, 13 grand children, and 9 great grand children. Our family lives on.

We are a noisy rowdy bunch who argue with each other over points of view. It was said we wold argue with a sign board. I was never really sure what that meant but I believe it suggests we hold strong views on personal perspective.

Our parents taught us to love God and Country above all other things. The only color we were taught had highest value was the red, white, and blue. OK, we appreciate the green of money as well and learned to work for money very early on.

Going home for the fourth of July is always a celebration of God, family and country. That is who we are. Today, I close with a glimpse of our fireworks show. Next time, I preach where I was ordained and spend five days with my baby sister Wendy, her husband Joe and her son, Hubert.

Derrick Farris, Author on Fire

Derrick Farris is an author on fire with captivating blogs and published works in 2014. readers are left with mouths wide open at the the conclusion of his thriller, The Camping Trip. Carla and her friends head out on a weekend vacation to the camping site that she loved from her childhood. While her friends keep observing weird occurrences and finding strange things in the woods they try to get some rest and relaxation. The camping site’s inhabitants have other plans for the group as death, sacrifice, and heritage rear their head in the equation. The Camping Trip is a story that will have you scared to pitch a tent in the woods ever again. 

His next work Forgetting My First Love is medicine for all of us who have ever lived through heartbreak. What is a good man? Good relationship? How do you navigate the sea of options when you're ready to build something meaningful after one failed attempt? Shawn has a lot of hurdles to overcome and another life to forget if he is to get another chance at happiness. Forgetting My First Love is a celebratory story of overcoming stubborn memories and hidden fears to have the relationship you know you're capable of having

Follow Derick on Facebook

Oscar Crawford Media 2014 Publications

Living Christian in an Unchristian World delivers a biblical based love action response to the general malaise affecting church, country, and planet.

Fishers of Men Fishing serves as metaphor for, Fishers of Men,speaking to single women looking for husbands in the 21^st Century.   Women across the Earth are fishing for husbands in vast networks and waters full of men by ethnic group, color, culture, class, education, religion, and political affiliation with limited success. 

Behind the Waterfall Adventure into the unknown with Ossana Mil to save Earth from the Priests Masters of Hell, the Lords of torturous fear and oppression, on Second Earth. Walk with Ossana and learn to live with no fear in the face of insurmountable evil. Face the Lords of Hell. Get ready. Behind teh Waterfall is no picnic. Love requires courageous hope. 

The Slanted Halo In the 1960’s, Zara Syndafor secretly left her diplomatic post for an extended mission to have a baby. On the night she gave birth, kidnappers took her daughter and black bagged her. They drugged her, placed her behind the wheel of a car and pushed it over a mountain. Her body burned beyond recognition. Her jewelry alone established her identity. 30 years later, Zara’s widowed husband, Stephen Syndafor lay on his deathbed in his final hours. He summoned Jaala, former aide to Zara to hear his confession and secrets he did not want to take with him to the grave. Money, maps and murder are on the list and the whereabouts of a grown child.

Coming Next Week

Part 5 of Traveling America and Going Home July 4th, a new blogroll of sites and blogs of interests to you. See you Monday July 28th.  Love and Blessings to you, Oscar

Making New Friends and Building New Relationships

July 21, 2014 Edition

Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light. Helen Keller

Traveling America and Going Home 

for the 4th of July Part Three

Jean Blankenship, Kenlie, Braxton, and Alexa Anderson

Once upon a lifetime ago, a young woman named Jean Meadors now Jean Blankenship rode the same school bus the school I rode. She got on in the mornings just after I got on and off before me. I would not be the only one watching her walk toward her house until the bus got to far for us to see her.

I had not seen Jean for more than 40 years until Facebook. When I visited my mother and father for their 63rd anniversary, Jean came to visit with her three beautiful grand children; Kenlie, Braxton, and Alexa.

Mary Bell

Mary Bell came to visit while at my parents. Mary went to school with my sisters and we connected on Facebook. Many people at home thought my parents only had three daughters. My brother and I were 6 and 8 years older than our oldest sister. Mary is a high energy one who loves the outdoors and staying active. She is known on occasion to be found in the line for line dancing boot scooting style. Mary attended the church where my father was once the church minister.

On the way home, I met a big rig driver named Sylvester. He sat beside me most of the way home. Sylvester was sent to be my guardian angel while he told me his story. He drives and will not retire to support his entire family. Many have health conditions requiring constant care and he provides for all.

He saved my bacon when I became separated from my ticket in Amarillo, Texas. I was not going to be allowed back on the bus unless I paid hundreds of the dollars more for a new one than the one I already had. 

When Sylvester re - boarded, he found my ticket in our seat and came running off the bus with it high and lifted  in his left hand. I moved through a line of people like Moses parting the Red Sea.

I was who many of you know me to be on this trip. I had made a covenant with myself I would only eat fried chicken once on the way home. When I found fried chicken at an out of the way side road bus stop, I got a wing and a breast to facilitate my happiness.

As I was eating the wing anticipating the breast, I noticed a lady not eating. I asked if she like fried chicken and gave her the breast. The same thing happened on the way home, except, I prepared by getting more wings. That story is next time. Stay with me, the celebration continues with Crawford's food to die for, 4th of July fireworks show, and my sister's home deep inside the country heartland on the border of Kentucky and Tennessee. 

Love and Blessings! 

Information You Can Use

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Does God Care?

Teila and Jeff Tankersley

The work of Teila and Jeff Tankersley. Does God care? We invite you to share your stories with us and if you have a friend who needs encouragement order our book, God Doesn't Care....or Does He? Written by several individuals who have had an encounter with the living God. Profits from the sale of this book are being donated to St. Jude's Children's Hospital, because we believe God truly cares. Get the Kindle Edition or Paperback






Next time meet author Derrick Farris.

Behind the Waterfall - First Three Chapters

Chapter One

My name is Ossana Mil.  I am third heir in the line of my Mugud (moo GOOOD).  What I am about to share with you has never been told.  If you find my story to be of value and you believe in the ancient ideas of hope and love, tell and retell this story where ever you can as often as you can.  People hunger for hope and love.

In the world of my people, our grandmothers raise us because the maturity of their wisdom exceeds   that of our mothers.  We know our mothers but our mothers apprentice under their mothers to prepare to raise the next generation’s children when we give birth to them.

All of my people’s grandmothers, the Mugud are the wise ones.  Our fathers and grandfathers, the Magid (mahk EEEDd) serve different tasks.   They counsel with each other to design best ways to provide for our families, our culture, and its continuing.

Our mothers and fathers live together in the same dwellings.  They spend time with each other and family.  All of us are responsible for what we do.  We trained from small children for tasks.  We express our love and care for each other through our giving of ourselves to each other as we serve each other.  Peaceful joy results from our way of life.

We celebrate what life has given us early in the morning with songs of thanksgiving for Life’s love for us.  We sing.  Some dance.  One of the Mugud tells a story.  One of the Magid expresses our thanks.  We enter the quiet to listen.  We eat and then we work.

It is this point of departure that my story becomes very different.  Please hear my heart talk to yours.  I would not tell you this long guarded secret did I not think it important.

The task handed to me by my Mugud is to save our world when our world is threatened. I must do so in such a way that no one ever knows what I have done or that anything happened at all.  When my Mugud believed I was ready to take on her work she returned to the oneness of all that is.  The elder Magid distributed her personal as she wished to the family and to all the people to share.

One thing she left behind for me was so secret I received it alone away from the presence of all others.  A small box sat on a small table in a dimly lit room. Inside laid a small bottle. It was like the ones from which I used to see her drink.  A simple note directed me to go to the place she sang to me as a child.  I was to go there; drink from the bottle, sit, wait, and listen. The note ended telling me there would be one other delivery to arrive on the day of infinity, just one other.   

Chapter Two

My Mugud was the most mysterious loving one.  You felt the ecstasy of her love just to be in her presence.  I always felt safe with her.

I often accompanied her on long walks when we she would go to God’s Mountain. It went so high into the sky we often could not see the top on cloudy days.

My Mugud would lead me into the mouth of the mountain just behind the waterfall.  There we walked together into the darkness of the mountain.

She never held my hand.  She said it was unnecessary that I should experience the knowing of her touch to know I was safe.  I was with her. She was with me. Never once had I questioned her.  Never once had I felt alone. Never once had I been afraid.

The journey to God’s Mountain was a four-hour walk away from Nautis, our small village town.  Today, I make the journey alone for the first time. I have never been to God’s Mountain alone.

I walked slowly to prepare myself but also to make sure I make this journey alone.  Whatever my Mugud has planned for me, I want this experience as she has designed it for me.

When I arrived at the waterfall and entered the mouth of the mountain behind it, I could hear her tell me.  She never held my hand before.  She was certainly not going to be holding it today.

The walk in was no different than any other time.  It was as if she was still present as she had been all the times we had come.

Now, I must find the place where we sat and take my place.  When I got there and began to sit where I always sit, I heard her voice say, “You sit there no longer my child; the place I sat is now yours to sit.  When you sit, remember.  You are Ossana Mil.  People will be looking for you.”

What was most strange about this was that it was not strange at all.  I am in awe of this moment.  I am now to sit where she sat.  I am alone but not alone.  She prepared me to be ready for this but what is it I am to be ready for?

I sat and comforted myself.  I open the bottle.  I remember my Mugud.  I put the bottle to my lips.  I remember I am Ossana Mil.  I drink all of it.

Chapter Three

I could hear voices calling my name, “Ossana, Ossana.”  I could hear them but not see them.  In the darkness inside the mountain, I cannot see myself.  What is this experience?  I hear voices I do not know.

“Ossana, thanks be to the great ones.  We are here as you directed,” a very big dark man said.

I did not see this coming.  This giant and excited to see me ebony man looks at me like he knows who I am.  I have never seen him before.  Mugud, you said you prepared.  I choose to believe you.  I will see where this goes.

“Ossana, it is Magi (MAAJJ – eee). Don’t you recognize me?” he asked.

“She’s not the same one.  We were told another would come soon.  She does not recognize anything yet.  She will.  They always do,” a woman’s voice said.

Three people sat down with me in a place I do not recognize.  My clothes are different.  I feel different.  Who are these people?  There is a woman and another man.

The second man said to the other two, “She doesn’t wear the ring yet.  She hasn’t seen the book.  She does not know.  We get to initiate her.”

The woman said, “She is here.  She must have been chosen or we would not have been called to be here for her.”

Then she spoke to me, “Ossana Mil, my name is Ailith.  This is Magi and this is EMahn (M- aahhnn).  There are others.  We are your servants here.  You are sent to us.  We are sent to you.   You protect us.  We protect you.”

Ailith realized I was trying to process it all.  What she cannot totally know is that my Mugud has prepared me and said I am ready.  I believe her.

I spoke up and said, “I am Ossana Mil, the apprentice of My Mugud.  What is the mission?”

They all looked at me and laughed.

EMahn told me it was not that simple.  Because I do not yet possess a book or wear a ring, this time I am here will determine what happens next for me. I dot recall my Mugud wearing a ring or having a special book.

I asked, “Then why am I here?”

Magi spoke, “Because she, you believed, you are ready, she sent you.  You sent you.  All of you who come are Ossana Mil.”

There must be an inappropriate word for me to say but I do not know any. I could utter only on me word.

“Mercy,” I said.

Ailith continued, “Think of this as a training run to determine if you are ready to take on the mission or whether we must wait another 50 of your years for another to come.”

“Do we really all look the same?” I asked.

Magi said, “Down to the size of your….”

Ailith and EMahn interrupt him and EMahn says, “Ossana, we apologize.  It is who he is.”

Ossana reached out to touch Magi and said, “It feels good to be appreciated.  For the record, my Mugud taught me about being a woman from very early.  I like it.  Now, what about the size of my….”

Ailith and Emahn interrupt again and Ailith says, “Not yet!”

Pre - Order Behind the Waterfall Now for Delivery on August 1st for $1.99.

Making New Friends - Building New Relationships

July 16, 2014 Edition

Traveling America and Going Home for the 4th of July

Part Two

Oscar Crawford

Life is consistently full of surprises. I got some surprises during my trip back home. I learned things about people I went to school with more than 40 years ago. I also learned more details about a car accident I experienced. I discovered relatives I did not know I had. My parents have matured to the point that that the only thing that has not diminished between them is their love for each other.

Gamaliel High School Graduating Class for 1969

There was a set of bullies in my high school. I had learned that to avoid their not so pleasant treatment, I feigned appreciation of their comradeship as a means of self - protection. It did not always work. I learned they were all dead as well as one adult who had caused me harm during that time. To say that I was pleased would be an overstatement. I am never one to let the facts get in the way of a good story.

The details of my mother's family was a closely guarded secret. They were sharecroppers of a white man's land between Scottsville, Kentucky and Bowling Green, Kentucky. The owner of the land shared a temporal engagement with my mother's mother. Details passed on do not suggest the experience was consensual. 

I always wondered who the white man was who came to grandmother's house every Saturday afternoon. He would knock. Grandmother would answer the door. They spoke a few words between them. When their short conversation was complete, he would hand to her a brown paper bag. Only upon this man's death, did I discover he was my mother's father, a grandfather I would never know.

Wendy and Joe Woods

My sister married a man three years ago, this past July 7th. I performed their ceremony. Two years later, while she talked to her husband about mom's dad, a startling discovery was made. His family was related to the grandfather we never knew, making us not so distant relatives. I met my brother - in - law Joe Woods Family while in Kentucky. Our family is the one only God could bring together. I met his sister - in - law, Jennifer who had lost 100 ponds. Jennifer's 12 year old daughter Jaley wants to earn a scholarship to play softball for the Alabama Crimson Tide. She wants to be Neurologist specializing in Genetics to make discoveries to better service children with Down Syndrome and Autism.

On June 10, 1968 at about 10 PM, my basketball career ended. I was in a car accident. I do not fully remember the experience only some images of my high school baseball coach and neighbor driving crazy. Flashes of memory going 100 miles an hour emerge as well as seeing coach thrown from the car, a 1964 2 Door Hard Top Impala. My younger brother was also in the car. I was hospitalized for seven weeks and had to learn to walk again.

I had always imaged going down with the car and telling people we hit a rock at 110 miles an hour after losing control. I was informed I was thrown from the car into a field. I do not know the facts. I do know I was in the back seat of the car of one person who took me to the hospital. My only memory of the ride was seeing a big hole in my arm shooting blood. I obviously survived. I am not ready to explore this further.

Couple on Right - My Parents
July 4, 1951

To my honorable mother and father, Clyde and Betty Crawford, they never cease to amaze me. They are now married more than 63 years.  I have watched them love each each other all of my life. They have weathered many storms, not the least of which are five children, all of our children, and great grand children. 

Both of them have diminished capacity of mobility and my mother is living with Alzheimer's Disease. Both of them compensate for each other's lack. They still talk to each other of their love for each other. I listen to them and try not to at the same time. It is an honor to be their first born. I am a blessed man.

In Part Three, I will be sharing my time with many new and exciting people I met while away. Until then, do your best to love God properly, love yourself properly and love others properly. It is a good life when you live like that. Enjoy your life. Live it!

Making New Friends and Building New Relationships

 July 14, 2014 Edition

Traveling America and Going Home for the 4th of July

I love to travel and being older now makes it more fun. I am not in a hurry. I can take time for me. I can take time for other people and allow life to do what life does best; bring people together who might never otherwise meet.

I never know who I am going to meet, only that I will meet new people, many of whom I will love immediately. Others may take a moment. On my recent trip from Phoenix, Arizona to Gamaliel, Kentucky, I met the most amazing people. Click here to share Part One of the trip with me.

Promoting Living Christian in an Unchristian World

Living Christian in an Unchristian World delivers a biblically based love action response to the general malaise affecting church, country, and planet. The war on terror, a disastrous national economy, citizen conflicts over partisan politics, and the church living under the rumble of scandal after scandal takes a toll on the soul of America and her people. Disillusionment runs rampant. Can government, other institutions, and their leadership be trusted anymore? Living Christian in an Unchristian World informs and demonstrates for readers how to live above the malaise and disillusionment to follow the model of Jesus in the 21st Century World and have fun doing it. Click here to learn more.

Building Businesses and Opportunities to Earn Good Money

Owner and  Operator of Blue Sky Travel, Shakonda Cloud has part time and full time opportunities available for professionals with the mind set to own their own business and change their lifestyle.

Be here Wednesday to learn more.

Affiliate Sales Opportunities

Sell eBooks through your networks and earn 20% commissions on completed works ready for immediate download at your buyers request. What could be easier and YOU GET PAID!

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WE BUILD A BETTER WORLD

ONE RELATIONSHIP AT A TIME.

Traveling America and Going Home for July the 4th

I love to travel and being older makes it more fun. I am not in a hurry. I can take time for me. I can take time for other people and allow life to do what life does best; bring people together who might never otherwise meet.

I never know whom I am going to meet only that I will meet people. Many, I will instantly love. Others may take a moment.

On my recent trip across seven states from Phoenix, Arizona to Gamaliel, Kentucky; I met the most amazing people. The first standout was a big rig driver named Sylvester. He was an angel sent to me. 

Sylvester drives to support his family of siblings, cousins, and in - laws. He provides all things necessary for life for them all. Many are ill in some context. Others are just down on their luck. He gets home once a month to check on his home and to make sure everybody has what they need.

He became my angel when I became separated from my bus ticket in Amarillo, Texas. I could not re-board the bus without my ticket. Sylvester re-boarded, found my ticket and came running off with it lifted up in his left hand. He looks like Chuck Norris. We were in Texas.

Once in KY, I reconnected with friends and family. My parents celebrated the 63rd Anniversary while I was there. They both went to bed around midnight on July 3rd. When it was officially July 4th, I could hear them wishing each other Happy Anniversary. Then I plugged my ears. Whatever they were doing after that was none of my business.

July 4, 1951

Left to Right Clyde and Betty Crawford, Cora Bell, and Oscar Crawford

Front Row Left to Right - Our Mother and Father

Betty Crawford and Clyde Crawford, Jr.

Back Row Left to Right

LaSandra Crawford Woods, Oscar Crawford,
L'Tanya Crawford, Ronnie Crawford and Lenora Crawford

Our annual 4th of July celebration of family, fun, food, and fireworks was a spectacular. Neighbors honor us with the smiles and not calling the police for all the noise we make. It was the first time my brother and our sisters have all been together since 1976 for my brother Ronnie's graduation form Kentucky State University.

Next time, meet friends I had not seen in four decades, family I did not know I was related, and paradise revisited.