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In June, the 4 th Annual Sonny Palmer “Sunshine Classic” golf tournament will be held in memory of my beloved brother-in-law, Sonny Palmer, who passed away suddenly January 1, 2012. Sonny was an Air Force vet and his family, in keeping his spirit alive, organizes a golf tournament each summer in which the proceeds are donated to The Wounded Warrior Project in his name. The golf tournament is held at the Fairway River Links Golf Course in Rayland, and afterwards, all golfers are invited to a get together where wonderful donations from the community, along with baskets (put together and donated by family members), are raffled off as prizes. Last year, Chris Miller Furniture was a big donator to this effort and we thank the Miller family for helping us make 2014 successful.  This year, one really exciting donation is from The Jamboree in the Hills owners who have donated a 4-day pass to this summer’s Jamboree in the Hills.  We have two four-day passes to the Jamboree and we are selling tickets that will provide two chances to win on each ticket based on the West Virginia Daily 3 number (drawing) held the evening of the golf tournament. As I have said in a previous blog, this event not only helps our wounded warriors that come back and have to struggle with daily life after combat and injury, this also helps our family deal with loss that is still painful to this day.  All who participate in this golf tournament knew and loved Sonny.  There are a lot of stories told with laughter that brings many to tears and then back to laughter on this day. I personally want to thank the businesses in our community that donate many, many great prizes, food, drinks and gift cards.  Bordas & Bordas helps with our effort and I thank the partners for their continued donation of a hole-sponsorship at the tournament.  Sonny’s family through the success of the golf tournaments over the past three years has made donations to The Wounded Warrior Project that total $9,700.00.  It is our hope that this helps our wounded warriors in some small way.   Just as Sonny would have wanted.

After my father retired from 22 years in the Air Force, our family moved to the small town of Mill Creek located in the hills of Randolph County, West Virginia. We were all really excited about moving back “home” after living elsewhere (Japan and Okinawa, as well as New York, Virginia, Tennessee and Michigan) for so many years.  Most of my mother’s family lived in the area, so we were surrounded with lots of aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins!  I can still vividly remember the summers, going barefoot (after a brief period of toughening up your soles), wearing cut-off jeans (you didn’t buy shorts, you just cut off your jeans when they got holes in the knees), flip-flops (which used to cost less than a dollar), patching holes in old tire tubes (before radials) to take to the creek for floating down river!  Of course, you wore sneakers so your bare feet wouldn’t touch the craw crabs. Okay, I do sound like a hillbilly, but it was fun!  Kids didn’t go indoors until dusk, after a few games of Kick the Can, Red Rover-Red Rover, Mother May I, Swing the Statue (personal favorite) or just catching fireflies, oh and swatting at bats.  There were no video games, cell phones, laptops, or Internet.  Just the great outdoors and it was always full of adventure in Mill Creek. Some events are burned into my memory of those days, including camping in my aunt’s backyard by the creek with all my cousins, and just before trying to go to sleep, we see a huge “cat” climbing down off the roof of the bus garage, facing our campsite.  But as the cat crawled closer, we realized it was no house cat, it was a BOBCAT.  Talk about screaming and hollering, it didn’t take us all of 60 seconds to run into the house.  So much for camping! And there was the time my cousin Terri and I were sitting on her front porch on a warm summer evening, watching the traffic.  Folks in the country are friendly so when we saw two strange young men go by, we tried to make conversation with them.  Just a quick hello and they kept going.  A few minutes later, the Sheriff and a few men carrying guns came by and asked if we had seen anyone.  Apparently two inmates had escaped from the Huttonsville Correctional Center (just about two miles away) and we were more than excited to say, “Well, yes, we did see them!”  Huttonsville Correction Center (now a maximum security prison) used to allow inmates to work the farm and it seemed there were always escapees.  My Aunt Lois singlehandedly captured two different escapees with a shot gun near her home while her husband was at work.  The episode earned her a guest spot on “To Tell The Truth” with Kitty Carlisle.  They all guessed it was her….  And more than once my grandfather, who ran a taxi service, picked up a hitchhiker who turned out to be an escapee.  Thankfully, no one was ever hurt. Early one summer when school had just let out, my cousin Terri and I were sporting our new bare feet and accidently ran across some freshly poured blacktop.  Talk about a hot foot!  We had to pick the hot sticky stuff off our feet.  Then there was the time we were hiking in the woods (my older sister’s favorite pastime) and came across a man lying in the grass.  We ran away screaming thinking he was dead, but looking back, was probably just sleeping off a night of drinking…. And did I mention skateboarding?  After retiring, my father worked as a mechanic in my uncle’s filling station.  One of the oil suppliers gave my father a skateboard as part of a promotional advertisement.  In 1964, skateboarding was just gaining popularity on the west coast, but was still fairly new to the east coast.  This skateboard was actually a wooden board about 20 inches long and five inches wide, with metal roller skate wheels attached to the bottom.  Not much by today’s standards, but it was so much more exciting than roller skates!  There was one new kid in town who also owned a skateboard so he and I became “fast” friends.  Believe it not, I was pretty good!  No helmet, just you and the pavement.  I still have that beat up old board! Well, enough said.  Bet you have some good memories of your childhood summers too!  Much simpler times -- the good old days!

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, is what I am told. Beauty is something different to each and every person, but beauty to me can be won down in Charleston, West Virginia. It’s every athlete’s dream to hold the conference tournament trophy at the end of the season, and it is no different in the Mountain East Conference for Division II women’s basketball. I played for West Liberty University for three seasons under Coach Lynn Ullom. When I arrived to West Liberty, the women’s basketball team had not won a tournament championship since 2004. After being unsuccessful my sophomore and junior year, I laced up my shoes on my first day of pre-season my senior year with one goal in mind: to win the 2015 MEC tournament. We were ranked first in the pre-season poll for the conference and ninth in the country for NCAA Division II, so I knew the pressure was on to win it all. I can’t lie and say I do not get nervous and I usually can push nerves aside, but the opening night at West Liberty was a different story. I must say that the only thing that got me through my nerves on opening night were the loyal fans of West Liberty. Over those three years, the people of West liberty became family to me. Some fans knew just about everything about me. In fact, they even knew my parents. I have played basketball a lot of places in my career, but there are no fans like West Liberty fans. Maybe, that’s why the championship was so important to me. I realized the trophy wasn’t just for my teammates and coaches, but for everyone that calls West Liberty home. On March 8, 2015, I looked at the scoreboard as the final buzzer went off and it read 76-55 in favor of us, the Hilltoppers. The feeling I had in that moment was something that will never be duplicated. After escaping the dog pile of my teammates, I looked up at the hundreds of people cheering in the stand and thought to myself, “I should be clapping for the people that got me here.” The first person my eyes looked to were my parents. My parents are my biggest fans. I felt as if my dad had worked just as hard for that trophy as I had, which is why my championship trophy hangs in his office. In that moment, I was the happiest I have ever been and realized that West Liberty is a magical place.

This Friday, May 29, 2015, is the annual Friday Night Lights benefit at St. Jude Park to raise money for the Mike Linsky Memorial Scholarship fund, awarded to an outstanding John Marshall High School student athlete each year to help with college costs. This year, I was invited to perform at the event, which undoubtedly marks the high point in my adult-onset singing “career” for a couple of reasons. First, I get to perform with Glen Dale’s legendary Rip Rockers. For at least the last couple decades, joining the Rip Rockers on stage has been high on my bucket list. I have watched and listened to them many times and have witnessed the energy and outstanding musicianship they bring to every show. And I’ve known and spent time with most of the guys all my life, so I was definitely a fan. It’s been so great to have been invited to practice, perform and hang out with all the guys, but beyond simply getting to live out a rock ‘n roll fantasy, this event, and most importantly the man behind it, are very dear to my heart, which makes Friday night extra special for me. For me, Coach Mike Linsky is a giant in the annals of John Marshall sports history, not necessarily because of his winning percentage, although he delivered us a State Championship in 1996, but because of the profound influence he had on the lives of so many players and students, including me.  You see, although I never played football for him, Mike Linsky was every bit the coach and mentor to me that he was to his players. When I came to John Marshall for high school, it was as a transfer student from Linsly. It was pretty nerve-racking for me to be honest.  I had been out of the county school system for three years by then, long enough to have been forgotten by my grade school peer group during a time of extreme physical and emotional change for all of us.  Plus I was transitioning from a private school where I wore a coat and tie every day, and where you were picked on if you didn’t get good grades, to a school where lots of kids wore cowboy boots and the so-called “nerdy” kids were the ones often targeted.  It’s never easy being the new kid, but Coach Linsky went out of his way to make sure I never had to be.  In the Winter/Spring of my freshman year at Linsly, Coach Linsky agreed to let me come lift weights with the football players every day after school, which was a tremendously generous gesture in its own right for a kid who didn’t even go to school there and wasn’t going to play football. I figured I’d sort of sneak in there, keep my head down and work out in a corner by myself.  Boy was I wrong.  From the first time I ever stepped foot in that weight room, Coach Linsky treated me just as if I were a member of that team. He had a great program going in that weight room at the time, tracking milestones, setting goals and promoting safe, healthy competition to try and get the best out of all of his players. He threw me right into that mix, tracking my progress right along with all the other players, pairing me up with a lot of different guys for certain lifts, I think mostly so I would get to know them and encouraging me and cheering me on just as he did with everyone else. Looking back on it, those few months in the weight room were instrumental to my high school experience.  Not only did I improve athletically, but I gained more than a few new friends and may have even earned the respect of a few kids who were otherwise likely to have tormented me in school. Coach Linsky made me one of the guys. So when I arrived for school at John Marshall that fall, it wasn’t as that skinny dork from the rich kids’ school, but instead as that skinny dork from the weight room – but having an established presence with a decent sized group of kids coming in that fall made all the difference for me. Coach Linsky gave me the gift of self-confidence and reassurance that I could cut it at a big school.  I can’t ever thank him enough for that. If you knew Coach Linsky, then you know that he didn’t stop there with me.  Although I never had the opportunity to play for him, I was blessed to have Coach Linsky as my AP History teacher. He was so knowledgeable and passionate about the subject that you couldn’t help but absorb the material.  He made learning interesting and fun. He also taught us quite a bit about navigating adulthood, about finding balance in our academic and scholastic pursuits, about being a good father and friend. Outside the classroom, he continued to take an interest in me and many other non-players.  He’d come to our non-football games and get excited with us for big ones, or stop us in the hallway for a laugh or to offer some advice.  When time allowed, sometimes he’d even sit down for a quick game of euchre with us.  Coach Linsky always had a big heart. I witnessed many examples of Coach going out of his way to bond with students whose situations were less fortunate, to try and bring some levity and joy to their lives – which was something else that has always resonated with me. He was genuinely happy to listen and try and help his students if they had a problem. I’ve heard many wonderful remarks about Coach Linsky over the years from his former players, and was as thrilled as anyone when he led the Monarchs to the 1996 State Championship with a team of wonderful players and people who truly embraced Coach’s style and philosophy, but to me Coach Linsky was always much more than a football coach.  To me he was a life coach, and there’s still not a week that goes by that I don’t think about him and the stories and advice he provided that still impact me as much, if not more, today as a husband and father myself. It’s hard to believe he’s been gone 9 years now. I still get emotional thinking about him. I wish he could have met my kids, whom I know he would get a kick out of, and so they could experience his kind wit, big smile and caring wisdom. But I know Coach wouldn’t want us to dwell too long on things missed.  He would want us to persevere and keep working hard to be the best we can be and live the happiest lives we can. So I am truly overjoyed to see his former players, students, fellow coaches and the community at large come together each year to make certain that the profound impact Coach Linsky had on other’s lives is remembered and honored through support for others.  And being fortunate enough to have been asked to play at Friday’s event, we’re going to play our hardest and best to make sure everyone enjoys themselves as much as possible.  After all, I know that’s the way Coach would want it.  If you’re interested in the event, check out http://linskymemorialscholarship.mysimplestore.com/.

In 1962, at West Point, General Douglas MacArthur addressed the Corps of Cadets, as his long career in the US Army came to a close. He chose the theme of “Duty, Honor, Country” from the motto of our United States Military Academy – words inscribed on its ancient coat of arms. This weekend, our country marks another Memorial Day. As our longest war continues, with our military deployed around the globe to fight that war, General MacArthur’s now 53 year-old lessons should come to mind. Here is how a man some called our greatest general described American soldiers at war:. . .on the other side of the globe, again the filth of murky foxholes, the stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugouts; those boiling suns of relentless heat, those torrential rains of devastating storms; the loneliness and utter desolation of jungle trails; the bitterness of long separation from those they loved and cherished; the deadly pestilence of tropical disease; the horror of stricken areas of war; their resolute and determined defense, their swift and sure attack, their indomitable purpose, their complete and decisive victory -- always victory. Always through the bloody haze of their last reverberating shot, the vision of gaunt, ghastly men reverently following your password of: Duty, Honor, Country. The code which those words perpetuate embraces the highest moral laws and will stand the test of any ethics or philosophies ever promulgated for the uplift of mankind. Its requirements are for the things that are right, and its restraints are from the things that are wrong. Our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines embrace daily the “highest moral laws” of which General MacArthur spoke. Receiving little in return, they prepare to sacrifice everything they have, and everything they ever could have, for the safety of our families, our communities, and our country. Nearly a million and a half Americans have made the ultimate sacrifice and proved the General’s point. Their embodiment of Duty, Honor, Country recalls the words of John’s Gospel: “Greater love hath no man than this, then that he lays down his life for his friends.” In his reverence for the self-sacrificing souls who do our fighting, General MacArthur made it clear that love and support for our troops does not mean seeking out wars to fight. He reminded the class of ’62: his does not mean that you are war mongers. On the contrary, the soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war. But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato, that wisest of all philosophers: “Only the dead have seen the end of war.” Half a century later, Plato is proven right again. But though our long war continues, we must both pray and work for peace, and remember the sacrifices our warriors make when we call them out to fight. We remember on Memorial Day that our military does not even participate in anything as lowly as politics. As General MacArthur explained in his address to our Cadets: Others will debate the controversial issues, national and international, which divide men's minds; but serene, calm, aloof, you stand as the Nation's war-guardian, as its lifeguard from the raging tides of international conflict, as its gladiator in the arena of battle. For a century and a half you have defended, guarded, and protected its hallowed traditions of liberty and freedom, of right and justice. The Founders envisioned a military entirely separate from politics, and so should we. The valor, skill and professionalism our troops display must never be used to justify their reckless or unwarranted deployment. Now that fully two centuries of unbroken service have been given to our nation, on Memorial Day we must give something back. Some of our time, some of our thoughts, some of our effort should be devoted to the memory of the multitudes who have given all they had, so we could live freely, and justly. After two hundred years, America’s dead are buried everywhere, in the marked graves that are visited and remembered, and in the lonely places known only to God. They have earned more than one day a year from us. Read General MacArthur’s final charge to the Corps. It has outlasted him, and can never be forgotten by anyone who has heard it: You are the leaven which binds together the entire fabric of our national system of defense. From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation's destiny in their hands the moment the war tocsin sounds. The Long Gray Line has never failed us. Were you to do so, a million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country. This Memorial Day, remember the men and women who have never failed us.

Thanks to Facebook, I have been flooded with memories of high school this week and thoughts of how those who devote themselves to educating teenagers impact the lives of so many in ways that will never be fully realized and appreciated. First, there was the post about Virginia Ryan, the “cookie lady” who spent 28 years of her life waking up before dawn to bake cookies and prepare meals for the students of Wheeling Central Catholic High School.  If you have ever had one of Mrs. Ryan’s cookies, you know there is nothing that can compare.  But she did more than bake cookies for teenagers.  She took an interest in their lives and would go out of her way to lend an ear or say a kind word to anyone she thought needed a little extra love at that moment.  But it was a post that I saw early Thursday morning, May 21, that made me realize it was time to say thank you to the teachers and staff at Wheeling Central Catholic High School, particularly those who were there in the late 1980s-early 1990s (yes I am dating myself) for the positive impact you have had on so many lives. In the wee morning hours of May 21, 2015, Greg Schultz announced via Facebook to his former students that he was starting his last week of teaching at Wheeling Central before retirement.  By 8 a.m., there were hundreds of “likes” and well wishes from his former students and colleagues, including me, and I began thinking about the impact that man had on so many.  Mr. Schultz has been a fixture at Wheeling Central for as long as I can remember.  His gravelly voice is unmistakable.  He did more than teach in the classroom.  He developed young people.  I will never forget when he took a group of us during our senior year to a Shakespearean festival in Canada.  While I remember nothing about the plays we saw, our ride in a Volkswagen bus/van (whatever that thing was) and the antics at the house which hosted us are forever etched in my mind. So thank you Mr. Schultz for everything you did then and for continuing to stay connected with and involved in your former students’ lives in this social media world. Mr. Schultz is one of many forever etched in my mind and there is no way to succinctly recount the many memories and adequately thank them all.  Like Mr. Schultz, the teachers at Wheeling Central have made many personal sacrifices to devote their lives to developing teenagers into well-rounded and productive adults.  When I was there, we students thought many of the rules were stupid.  Detention was doled out for such minor infractions as going up or down the steps the wrong way or being caught at your locker during class time.  Mr. Duffy, the Dean of Discipline, seemed to have eyes everywhere.  Seriously, I think that man could identify you by your ankles if you were taking a short cut and going the wrong way on the steps.  You would hear his voice say, “(Insert name) we will see you in detention,” before ever seeing where he was.  Mr. Duffy was not the only rule enforcer, just the most prominent.  What many of us now know is that these “silly” rules and their strict enforcement weren’t simply ways for the teachers to annoy us.  They were meant to teach us discipline and that every decision in life, however minor, has a consequence.  They taught us taking short-cuts in life rarely pays off.  They taught us to be prepared and think about the consequences of an action before acting.  They taught us to show consideration and respect for others even when you may not particularly care for a person.  If you show respect, you will be respected. So to “Mr. Schultz,” thank you for taking me down memory lane and best wishes on your well-deserved retirement.  And to Earl “Mickey” Duffy, Joseph “Doc” Viglietta, Alice Harkins, Steve Turkley, Sally Beatty, Debra Toland, Terry Williamson, Cathy Bishop, Lynn Papagan, Stan Kaniecki, Frank Przybysz, Terry Edwards, Floyd Deaton, Sister Mary Florence, and all the others I know that I am forgetting, thank you for the impact you have had on my life.  Lou Volpe, even though you abandoned my class during our senior year to take a well-deserved break, I can’t forget you.  You are a Wheeling Central legend.  All of you are fixtures in my life that will never be forgotten.  You gave me the tools to get where I am today.  My thoughts of following in your footsteps were replaced by the realization that I would not be able to repay my very large student loan debt and support myself on a Catholic school teacher’s salary.  So thank you also for the financial sacrifices you made to devote your lives to your students.  I am aware of very few other schools where former students and teachers continue to stay so connected and involved in each other’s lives long after graduation.  While I sometimes think of giving up the legal profession to return to my original thoughts teaching, there is only one place where I would ever consider going.   You set the bar high and made sure your students surpassed it.  I hope each of you receive satisfaction knowing the positive impact you have had on so many lives.  Best wishes to Greg Schultz on his retirement and to all of my former Wheeling Central teachers, wherever you may be today.

I am constantly amazed at how much things have changed in our world today. The biggest change, in my view, is how public schools react to “religion” in the classroom, hallways and on campus. When I was in high school years and years and years ago, we had a Youth For Christ Club in the school.  Our football coach was our sponsor and we met every Wednesday at noon in the gym.  We usually had around 200 kids in attendance. When I look at my yearbook and read the profiles of the seniors, approximately 50 percent list Bible Club as one of their clubs.  Lest you think we had a small school with a small graduating class, over 400 graduated in the class of 1961. I was in the Youth For Christ trio that sometimes sang in the club meetings and more importantly to me, I quizzed on the Youth For Christ quiz team.  This meant memorizing or practically memorizing whole chapters of the Bible and quizzing against other schools on Saturday night in Charleston at the Youth For Christ rallies. These rallies gathered kids from all the schools in our area – Nitro, St. Albans, Dunbar, South Charleston and Charleston. Each Saturday night, two teams faced off and quizzed on the designated Scripture for that week.  And we had our cheering sections!  Not as many, of course, as football and basketball, but quite a few came the night our school was quizzing. The teams’ chairs were rigged with a buzzer and/or a light which alerted the judges when you jumped up to answer the question.   Sometimes when you tried to fake out someone to get them to jump first, it backfired and you were on the spot.  If the questioner said, “Finish this verse,” and that is all he said and you jumped, you had to pick a verse from the whole book or whole chapter and just take a guess.  Of course, you missed more often than you got it right. If you answered five questions correctly, you “quizzed out” and if you answered three questions wrong, you were out. Teams consisted of five members and the quiz consisted of 20 questions. One quiz I will never forget was for the championship and we were quizzing on the whole Book of John.  The Quizzer said, “Finish this verse” – well, you can guess who tripped her buzzer!  I stood there and I remember shrugging and said, “A little leaven leaveneth the whole loaf.”  The judge looked shocked and said, “That’s correct.”  No one was more surprised that I was. I was also on the All-Star team that represented Charleston YFC in the regionals in Bristol, Virginia. Our team won in Bristol and from there we went to Wynona Lake, Indiana for the Nationals.   We quizzed other All-Star teams from all over the nation.  We didn’t win, but we placed fourth in the nation.  When we returned to Charleston, we were asked to give a demonstration on T.V. Can you imagine any school sponsoring such a club today?  Can you imagine kids willingly going to a rally to watch their team quiz on the Bible?  Can you even imagine kids today memorizing whole portions of the Bible (in King James no less)? Yes, we also had our problems – school was not perfect, kids were not perfect, but we also had the freedom to not just carry our Bibles to school and read them, but to quiz and memorize and have fun with our Christianity.  I can still quote a great deal of scripture from those days (in King James!).  As a matter of fact, I still use King James and can’t really understand modern English Bibles! My intense study of the Bible has been a real blessing to me in my life.  God has used my experience with Youth For Christ many times to bring a verse to my mind in difficult times.

Spring is filled with holidays that celebrate women. For example, March is Women’s History month and in May we celebrate Mother’s Day. When I think of all the influential women throughout our history the one I believe that leads the pack is Mother Teresa.  It takes a very special person to voluntarily walk away from earthly belongings and comforts to live amongst the destitute.  She cared for those who suffered the most.  Those that were malnourished, she fed both body and soul.  Those suffering from diseases, she brought comfort. According to the National Geographic, before her death on September 5, 1997, Mother Teresa had almost 4,000 sisters working in 610 foundations, in 123 countries across six continents.  She had played a hand in opening several hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDs, leprosy and tuberculosis.  She also headed soup kitchens, children’s counseling programs, orphanages, and educational facilities.  She is known throughout the world for her kindness, generosity and her unmovable love for humankind. Mother Teresa was most certainly God’s gift to the world.  Pope John Paul II sums it up perfectly “Mother Teresa marked the history of our century with courage.  She served all human beings by promoting their dignity and respect, and made those who had been defeated by life feel the tenderness of God.” “I see God in every human being.When I wash the leper’s wounds I feel I am nursing the Lord himself.Is it not a beautiful experience?” – Mother Teresa

When you’re busy with work, family, church and all the other stuff of life, it’s really hard to maintain a healthy balance of diet and exercise. When you rush home and have a list of projects waiting for you (like yard work), and you want to fix a quick but healthy supper, try this delicious recipe!  It’s easy on the Weight Watcher plan too! Add some grilled chicken and a salad and you’re done!   Balsamic and Parmesan Roasted Cauliflower Nutritional Info (Per serving – makes 4 servings): Calories: 149, Total Fat: 10g, Carbs: 10g, Dietary Fiber: 4g, Protein: 7g Ingredients 1 head cauliflower/florets (8 cups 1-inch-thick slices) 2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil 1 teaspoon marjoram, dried 1/4 teaspoon salt pepper, to taste 2 tablespoon balsamic vinegar 1/2 cup(s) Parmesan cheese, shredded or grated Preparation 1. Preheat oven to 450°F 2. In large bowl, toss cauliflower, oil, marjoram, salt and pepper. Roast on a large rimmed baking sheet until starting to soften and brown on the bottom, about 20 minutes. 3. Remove from oven, toss the cauliflower with vinegar and sprinkle with cheese. Return to the oven and roast until the cheese is melted and any moisture has evaporated, 5 to 10 minutes more. Hope you like it!

In April of 2007, during a weekend camping outing with family and friends, I awoke one morning and discovered that I was very hoarse and that I was losing my voice.  I really thought nothing of it, and thought that maybe the smoke from the campfire the night before had irritated my throat.  My voice eventually came back later that day, we packed up the camper and headed home, and I didn’t give it another thought.  A few days later, while answering the phone at work, I suddenly lost my voice again.  Again, I brushed it off as maybe a spring allergy or possibly still some irritation from campfire smoke.  The following week, during a doctor’s visit for a knee problem, my physician thought that my neck looked “full” and suggested that I go for an ultrasound.  Once again, I really didn’t think anything of this…after all I felt fine, my voice had returned, and the only pain I was experiencing was in my knee.  However, I did go for my ultrasound as she recommended, and was quite surprised when she told me that they had discovered two nodules in my thyroid gland.  She then referred me to an endocrinologist. At this point, a little bit of concern started creeping into my mind.  My endocrinologist informed me that one of my nodules was the size of a pea, and one was the size of a pencil lead.  To this day, I am still amazed that my family doctor noticed that my neck looked full given that these nodules were very small, and also that I could not even feel them myself.  I was informed by my endocrinologist that most of the time these nodules are nothing serious, however, they did need to be biopsied to be sure.  I then underwent a needle biopsy and, unfortunately, my biopsy was inconclusive.  The only way to be sure about these nodules was to undergo surgery and have them removed.  My surgeon suggested removing only the portion of my thyroid gland that contained the nodules, and that if they were cancerous he would have to perform a second surgery to remove my entire thyroid gland.  It made no sense to me to undergo two procedures when I could have it removed during the first surgery, so I instructed him to do a total thyroidectomy.  Approximately a week after the surgery I got the call that changed my life forever—I had Stage One Papillary Thyroid Cancer.  I remember being shocked, scared and in a state of complete disbelief and denial.  In my mind cancer was something that happens to other people—not me.  I then started down the long road of treatment with radiation therapy, PET scans, yearly ultrasounds and whole body scans, and daily medication.  I now know that the voice loss and hoarseness I was experiencing with my voice were the first symptoms of thyroid cancer. Papillary thyroid cancer is the most common type of thyroid cancer and accounts for approximately 80 percent of all thyroid cancers.  Papillary thyroid cancer grows very slowly, and can spread to the lymph nodes in the neck and other parts of the body.  If detected early, however, the long-term survival rate is very high—over 90 percent.  There is a 30 percent recurrence rate, however, so I will continue to be monitored for the rest of my life.  As with many forms of cancer, early detection is the key to successful treatment.  If your family physician does not already do a “neck check” at your yearly physical, then ask him or her to do one.  Some of the more common symptoms of thyroid cancer are: *A lump or swelling in your neck. *Pain in your neck and sometimes in your ears. *Difficulty swallowing. *Difficulty breathing or constant wheezing. *Hoarseness that is not related to cold. *A cough that continues and is not related to a cold. Thyroid cancer is a part of my daily life now, but I refuse to let it take control of my life—I am in control, not cancer.  It has taught me to appreciate each and every day that I am still here, to cherish my family, live every day to its fullest and to live my life for me. For more information regarding thyroid cancer, please visit www.thyca.org and www.checkyourneck.com.

This winter was cold, snowy, and a bit too long for my liking. Coming from Elkins, you’d think I wouldn’t be bothered by a bone-chilling wind and a pile of snow up to my knees.  Maybe I’ve grown a little wiser.  Maybe I’ve grown soft in my old age.  Either way, I’m not a big fan of winter anymore. But I have to say there’s something positive that came out of this latest bout of winter.  My granddaughter, Melody, made a new friend. With snow constantly on the ground, we decided to throw some deer corn into the front yard.  Soon the visitors started coming.  Every couple of days, there was a mama deer who would come with a young baby.  Together they would make their way through the snow, devouring cup-fulls of deer corn.  The mama was a little skittish, especially as we all watched through the dining room window.  But the baby was more adventurous.  Even with Melody standing in full view, the baby would come right up to the window to eat. It was fun watching Melody’s reaction.  It’s amazing to me how babies always seem to recognize babies.  The baby deer would stop and look right into the window, eye to eye with Melody.  The look on Melody’s face was precious.  She was all smiles, her eyes twinkled and she worked very hard to suppress an excited scream.  Meanwhile, the baby deer stared intently--knowing, I suppose, that the two of them shared a bond of some kind.  Everyday Melody watched and waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of her new friend. Even though spring has finally arrived, the visiting deer have left a lasting legacy.  Anytime Melody sees my iPhone, she immediately shouts “Deers!  Deers!”  The deer may not be feasting anymore in my yard, but I have a whole gallery of pictures to entertain my granddaughter for months and months to come!

With all of the noise we heard about charter schools earlier this year, it sometimes seemed as if some folks had completely forgotten about the quality of our public school system here in Marshall County. As a member of the Marshall County Schools Pride & Progress Committee, I have been fortunate to get an up-close look at what our schools have to offer, and I’m here to tell you that the opportunities for our students are far beyond anything you have ever imagined. I wish I could take the time to give you an exhaustive listing of the unique course offerings at Cameron and John Marshall.  I wish I had the time and space to detail the dozens and dozens of local, regional, and state-level awards earned by our students.  Unfortunately, an article detailing all of that information would take weeks to write, and far too many pages to publish in this space.  Instead, I will simply touch on one of the most impressive areas of study available to Marshall County students:  the agriculture and natural resources classes at Cameron High School. Last week, I had the opportunity to tour the facilities at the new Cameron High.  I was accompanied by Scott Varner, the Director of Career, Technical and Adult Education in Marshall County.  Our tour guides were John Lockhart and Hattie DeBolt, both of whom teach various agriculture-related courses at Cameron.  Before beginning my tour, I was prepared to be impressed by what I expected to see.  After all, Mr. Varner had recently made a presentation to the Pride & Progress Committee, during which he outlined the multiple awards that had been earned by “ag” students at Cameron.  What I saw, however, vastly exceeded every one of my expectations. My tour began in the meat lab.  It looked more like a hospital operating room.  Sparkling clean floors, stainless steel tables and equipment galore, and a general feel of “ultra-sanitary.”  Mr. Lockhart explained the various items of equipment on display, all designed to help students learn about the proper techniques for processing beef, pork, chicken, lamb and other meats.  As we went further into the lab, I saw a group of students who were preparing various meats for the upcoming FFA banquet.  They were so focused on what they were doing that they didn’t notice our little tour group.  We saw a huge walk-in freezer, a similarly sized cooler and a rail system designed to transport the meat from where it is first unloaded at the back door of the facility all the way through processing.  Once I picked my jaw up off of the floor, I noted how very impressed I was with what I saw.  Mr. Varner, beaming with pride, told me of a conversation he had with an expert in the field, who told him Cameron High had the best meat lab of any institution east of the Mississippi.  Mr. Lockhart then related how the lab had recently been visited by officials from WVU, who were in the process of upgrading their meat lab.  They wanted to pattern what they were doing after what had already been done at Cameron.  Think about THAT for a second.  The largest institution of higher learning in the State of West Virginia came to Cameron High School to learn how to build a top-quality meat lab.  Wow.  I mean, really.  Wow!! After finishing our tour of the meat lab, Mr. Lockhart and Ms. DeBolt took me into a classroom to tell me something about the FFA program at the school.  When most folks think about FFA activities, they think about raising and selling farm animals.  They think rural, simple and unsophisticated.  They could not possibly be more wrong.  Modern farming is a business, and the students at Cameron are being prepped to go into business.  They maintain very detailed logs about their particular projects.  They maintain notebooks that include a journal of their daily activities, itemized income and expense reports, a detailed business plan and profit/loss statements for each project.  I looked through several of the notebooks on hand, and Ph.D. level education or not, I would be hard-pressed to duplicate what I saw. I would be remiss if I wrote this article without saying a few things about the educators who make it possible.  Mr. Lockhart and Ms. DeBolt are both young folks whose passion for and dedication to what they are doing is as obvious as it is infectious.  They are committed to doing the best they can to prepare their students to excel in an agricultural business world that is vastly different than it was 25 years ago.  We have probably all had the experience of that atypical teacher who was simply “going through the motions.”  We can also remember teachers whose dedication and effort was a positive influence in our lives.  After spending an hour or two with Mr. Lockhart and Ms. DeBolt, I can say with absolute confidence that they are a tremendous positive influence for the kids at Cameron. So, do you think we have an average school system here in Marshall County?  You might want to consider that students from Cameron recently were awarded 25 State Degrees by the West Virginia FFA.  Despite a membership of over 5,000 students, prior to this year the highest number of State Degrees ever awarded to a single school--EVER--was 23.  That record was set 15 years ago by Ripley High School, a much larger school with a much higher enrollment than Cameron.  Or perhaps you think that agriculture courses are for students who can’t excel in more traditional areas of study.  If so, you might want to consider that eight of the students who will graduate in the academic “Top Ten” at Cameron High in 2015 were involved in the Agriculture and Natural Resources program. In a previous article, I talked about the top-notch evaluations received by Marshall County Schools in a state-mandated survey.  In a future article, I’m going to talk about the college-level engineering instruction that is coming next year . . . or the leadership initiative that will be put into place to introduce our youngsters to the leader that lives in each and every one of them.  I’m excited to be a small part of a tremendous school system.  Most importantly, I am proud to see what Marshall County Schools have become:  one of the best school systems in West Virginia.