Winter in Beloved

Cousins,
The winter has been mild in my hometown of Beloved, Kentucky.  The snow has held off except for one big snowfall in early December.  That was a historic week in the journals of home as that snowfall saw the death of Homer "Bud" Clavens from up on Brushy Butt Creek.

Seems like Bud Clavens noticed his outhouse was pretty near full an' in need of the hole bein' filled an' a new hole dug.  Bud got the idea of puttin' sled runners on the outhouse an' waitin till it snowed real deep to just move the outhouse to a new location hangin' over a steep ravine.  He figured he would just push it to the edge, secure it an' never have to dig an outhouse hole again.  Pretty good idea, as far as it went.

When it started snowin', Bud hiked the outhouse up a bit so the sled runners would be on top of the snow.  Him an' his wife, Etta figured they would use a slop bucket for a few days, haul the outhouse to the edge of that ravine an' be livin' in high cotton from them on.

Problem was, Bud was out feedin' his hogs an' nature called.  He couldn't make it back to the house, so he figured "one for the road" an' stepped into the hiked up outhouse.

His weight in the outhouse made the dang thing break off the jacks an' land on the sled runners.  As he stood up to see what in the heck was goin' on the whole kit an' kaboodle took off on them sled runners, headed downhill to the ravine.

Bud saw where the thing was goin' an sat down, holdin' on th a Sears an Roebuck catalog that he was readin' an' grabbed hold of the sides to keep from fallin' through the hole as he bounced over the river an' through the woods!!!

Well, when he hit the edge of the ravine, he had planned to drop an old Model A Ford tire rim through the hole tied to his scarf from 'round his neck.  He was movin so fast he whizzed right past the edge (pardon the pun) in the outhouse an' fell to his death over 100 feet to the bottom of the ravine.

The fall jammed the outhouse so deep into the ravine that his wife an' youngins decided it were a waste to undig ol' Homer "Budd" Clavins when he was near buried already.  They threw a few buckets of dirt over the top of the outhouse an' left Bud to his eternal rest.

A lovely memorial service was held at the top of the ravine an' a mess of flowers was thrown over the side to rest on the mound of dirt below.

Homer "Budd" Clavins was 102 years old an' is survived by 17 children, 85 grandchildren an a mess of cousins, brothers an' his Mama, Eunice Poovey Clavins.

First Snow

First snow, just a dusting
Covering the ground
Like sugar on a donut.
Cold wind swirls
Twists and wraps
Flakes around
The trees.

Stealthy Winter

How quietly winter slips in
Her stealth brings her unnoticed.
Whispering around the corners 
Of barns, smokehouses
And cabins with secrets
Of snow and frost.








Yet she will pour her anger out
Her fury will beat down
On house and home.
Her anger will pile up
With the snow drifting
Along the fence rows.

I watched as a tiny sparrow
Flew to the door of a workshop
Landed on the open door
Looked intently into the dark
Warm and musty room.

I wonder what he thought
What he was looking for
Why did he sit calmly
What was he pondering?

Remember?

Do you remember?
Where you were
Who stood by your side?
When the news came
When you first saw the horror?

It is an image
That is seared
Into the backs of my eyes
Burned into my brain.

Images that will never fade
Shock that doesn't ease
The sight of men, women
Jumping to their death
Can you imagine
A situation
When that is the best option?

Copyright 9/11/2006 Stephen Hollen