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Sunrise over Apple Orchard Mountain

It's Terrific Tuesday again. How's everything in your neck of the woods? The Monday sunrise and the cloud rising over Apple Orchard Mountain remind me of Atlas holding the sky on his shoulders. Sometimes I think I have the world on my shoulders. Me and every one else, right?

A big "Huzzah" needs to be said once again to Rodney Spickard for his efforts to organize the first annual LBHS basketball Alumni event. Fifty-one former players came to the hospitality room before, during and after the LB-JR basketball game and about 2,000 fans came to watch the game. The alumni were announced at halftime along with Coach Don Meredith and Coach John Shotwell. That was a biggie for Botetourt and I'm glad the BV made it, but wished that the main sheet had as well.

For me it was a trip down memory lane. Carl Johnson and Mike Poole of the Class of '73 were like my brothers. Both of them still called me by my family nickname, "Sis." It was so weird to hear that Saturday night. Other than a few cousins, my brother and Don Booze at church, no one calls me that anymore. Those who knew me by that name have known me longest and most of them are dead now.

The two fellas spent a great deal of time at my house during their high school careers as they were friends of my brother Murky who was a football tackle (and ended his career as honorable mention all state his senior year.) Back then most every one played more than one sport.

After practice, my brother used to pilot our car with me in the middle, Carl riding shotgun, Charlie Burrell, James Kyle and Harry Merchant riding in the back seat. We were the Fincastle gang-- they coming out of football practice and me out of volleyball practice. Sometimes we went directly home and they all ate supper with us or to Fincastle to drop every one off. Never a funnier group of people ever rode ten miles together. Merchant died a couple of years ago I am sorry to say. However, the early 70s were our glory days. Back then we had no worries other than school. My Dad had an old Ford Falcon station wagon for our use and it was a machine, I tell you-- a legend. While everyone else hoped to drive a muscle car we had a Falcon we hoped would run. LOL.

Wheels are wheels.

Mike Poole lived in Daleville with his brother Jay, mother Eunice Weaver and his half siblings and step father Frank Weaver. I fondly recall the hours we spent conspiring to hook Mike up with a girl. Those days were amazing. Johnson, whose daughter Nikki is the LBHS volleyball coach, lives in Shelbyville, Tennessee and Poole in the Charlottesville area. It was great seeing them. For once more, I felt like the person I used to be before time and troubles entered my life.

Don't get too wet-- and a pox on ice!

See ya next week!