Speaker 1: This is going to be a little bit of a
Speaker 1: different podcast. I haven't put one up in about six
Speaker 1: or eight days, I think, but I've been busy on
Speaker 1: the Steve Lily number twenty that I uploaded last Wednesday
Speaker 1: or Thursday, I think. And I'm gonna talk about Steve
Speaker 1: Lily further on in the podcast, and I'm going to
Speaker 1: talk about some other things. So if this is one
Speaker 1: of those podcasts that you hate to hear somebody ramble on,
Speaker 1: then you can just click away. There are going to
Speaker 1: be stories. I don't know how long the podcast is
Speaker 1: going to be, but just hang on. I think this
Speaker 1: might be interesting. But the first thing I want to
Speaker 1: share with you is I picked up a book last week.
Speaker 1: I have a list of favorite authors that I love
Speaker 1: to read and seek out authors who may or may
Speaker 1: not tell stories I'm interested in, but they write really well.
Speaker 1: One of those authors is Dennis Johnson. D Nis Johnson.
Speaker 1: You may know that name or you may recognize something
Speaker 1: he wrote if you have watched a new film on
Speaker 1: Netflix called Train Dreams. Dennis Johnson wrote that book. It's
Speaker 1: a short I think if they would call it a novella.
Speaker 1: It's not a very long book, but I stumbled across
Speaker 1: that book about two or three years ago. I think
Speaker 1: someone reviewed it. It looked interesting, so I bought it
Speaker 1: and I read it, and I just love the way
Speaker 1: this guy writes. He's won all kind of awards, and
Speaker 1: he's written six or eight novels. He's a poet. He's
Speaker 1: got two or three books of poetry out. So I'll
Speaker 1: give these authors a read, and then i'll put it down,
Speaker 1: and i'll write their name down, and then i'll go
Speaker 1: to another author, and then when I want to come
Speaker 1: back to them, I'll pick up another book that they wrote.
Speaker 1: So I'm reading a book now by Dennis Johnson call
Speaker 1: it's called Tree of Smoke. Now. I'm only five or
Speaker 1: six chapters into it, and it's really good. It's a
Speaker 1: Vietnam era book. The very first chapter I read a
Speaker 1: short scene. It's about six or eight paragraphs long, and
Speaker 1: I've recorded it. I want you to listen to it.
Speaker 1: I know this isn't monster content. Listen to this little
Speaker 1: micro story. Listen to the way he wrote it. Immediately
Speaker 1: when it's over, I want you to hit the pause
Speaker 1: button if you'd like to, and comment to me and
Speaker 1: tell me what your immediate emotion is after hearing this
Speaker 1: little six or eight paragraph scene at the very beginning
Speaker 1: of Tree of Smoke, I'm curious to know what my
Speaker 1: listeners can hear and pick up in a good piece
Speaker 1: of writing. I'm just curious if you had any of
Speaker 1: the same emotions I had when I stopped. I mean,
Speaker 1: it's only a couple of pages long, and I read this,
Speaker 1: and I stopped, and I reflected back on my life
Speaker 1: at the time, when I was a kid and have
Speaker 1: done this, I've done things like this, and how much
Speaker 1: remorse I had at the time, and how at the
Speaker 1: age of sixty three, I'll remember something all the way
Speaker 1: back when I was eight years old. Whenever it crosses
Speaker 1: my mind, just this wave of heat and embarrassment and
Speaker 1: remorse comes over me for doing what I did. And
Speaker 1: it is it is. I don't know how to describe
Speaker 1: the emotion. But anyway, anyway, I want you to listen
Speaker 1: to this, pause your video, tap the screen, immediately, make
Speaker 1: a comment. Let me know the emotion that this evoked
Speaker 1: from listening to this. I'm very interested in that. And
Speaker 1: also let me know if you if you got to
Speaker 1: the end of this and you a preated the way
Speaker 1: he wrote it, to evoke an emotion from you and
Speaker 1: to give you some kind of a microscope into this
Speaker 1: boy's life and personality and demeanor. Because I think, as
Speaker 1: I'm reading this book, it's gonna it's gonna give you
Speaker 1: some insight into some of the things he goes through
Speaker 1: in Vietnam, and you'll know who you're reading about. Okay,
Speaker 1: I'll shut up. Here is the h here's the little
Speaker 1: excerpt from Tree of Smoke. It was late in the
Speaker 1: morning and Seemen Apprentice William Houston Jr. Began feeling sober
Speaker 1: again as he stalked the jungle of Grand Island carrying
Speaker 1: a Borrow twenty two rifle. There was supposed to be
Speaker 1: some wild boars roaming this island military resort, which was
Speaker 1: all he had seen so far in the Philippines. He
Speaker 1: didn't know how he felt about this country. He just
Speaker 1: wanted to do so hunting in the jungle. There were
Speaker 1: supposed to be wild bores around here. He stepped carefully,
Speaker 1: thinking about snakes and trying to be quiet because he
Speaker 1: wanted to hear any bores before they charged him. He
Speaker 1: was aware that he was terrifically on edge. From all
Speaker 1: around came the ten thousand sounds of the jungle, as
Speaker 1: well as the cries of gulls and the far off surf,
Speaker 1: And if he stopped in and listened a minute, he
Speaker 1: could hear also the pulse snickering of the heat of
Speaker 1: his flesh, and the creak of sweat in his ears.
Speaker 1: If he stayed motionless only another couple of seconds, the
Speaker 1: bugs found him and whined around his head. He propped
Speaker 1: the rifle against the stunted banana plant, and removed his
Speaker 1: head band and wrung it out, and wiped his face,
Speaker 1: and stood there a while, waving away mosquitoes with the
Speaker 1: cloth and itching his crotch absent mindedly. Nearby, a seagull
Speaker 1: seemed to be carrying on an argument with itself, a
Speaker 1: series of protesting squeaks interrupted by contradictory, lower pitched cries
Speaker 1: that sounded like huh huh, huh, And something moving from
Speaker 1: one tree to another caught Semen Houston's eye. He kept
Speaker 1: his vision on the spot where he'd seen it among
Speaker 1: the branches of a rubber tree, putting his hand out
Speaker 1: for the rifle without altering the direction of his gaze.
Speaker 1: It moved again, and now he saw that it was
Speaker 1: some sort of monkey, not much bigger than a Chihuahua dog,
Speaker 1: not precisely a wild boar, but it presented itself as
Speaker 1: something to be looked at, clinging by its left hand
Speaker 1: and both feet to the tree's trunk, digging at the
Speaker 1: thin rind with an air of tiny, exasperated haste. Semen
Speaker 1: Houston took the money's meager back under the rifle sight.
Speaker 1: He raised the barrel a few degrees and took the
Speaker 1: monkey's head into his sight, and without really thinking about
Speaker 1: anything at all, he squeezed the trigger. The monkey flattened
Speaker 1: itself out against the tree, spreading its arms and legs enthusiastically,
Speaker 1: and then reaching around with both hands as if trying
Speaker 1: to scratch its back, and it tumbled down to the ground.
Speaker 1: Semen Houston was terrified to witness its convulsions. There it
Speaker 1: hoisted itself, pushing off the ground with one arm, and
Speaker 1: sat back against the tree trunk with its legs spread
Speaker 1: out before it, like somebody resting from a difficult job
Speaker 1: of labor. Semen Houston took himself a few steps nearer,
Speaker 1: and from the distance of only a few yards, he
Speaker 1: saw the monkey's fur was very shiny and held a
Speaker 1: heena tent, and the shadows and a blond tent, and
Speaker 1: the light as the leaves moved above it. It looked
Speaker 1: from side to side, its breath coming in great rapid gulps,
Speaker 1: its belly expanding tremendously with every breath, like a balloon.
Speaker 1: The shot had been low, exiting from the abdomen. Semen
Speaker 1: Houston felt his own stomach terar itself in two Jesus Christ.
Speaker 1: He shouted at the monkey, as if it might do
Speaker 1: something about its embarrassing and hateful condition. He thought his
Speaker 1: head would explode if the forenoon kept burning into the
Speaker 1: jungle all around him, and the gulls kept screaming, and
Speaker 1: the monkey kept regarding its surroundings, carefully moving its head
Speaker 1: and black eyes from side to side, like someone following
Speaker 1: the progress of some kind of conversation, some kind of debate,
Speaker 1: some kind of struggle that the jungle the morning the moment,
Speaker 1: was having with itself. Semen Houston walked over to the monkey,
Speaker 1: laid the rifle down beside it, lifted the animal up
Speaker 1: with his two hands and holding its buttocks in one
Speaker 1: and cradling its head in the other. With fascination and
Speaker 1: then revulsion, he realized that the monkey was crying. Its
Speaker 1: breath came out in sobs, and tears welled out its eyes.
Speaker 1: When it blinked, it looked here and there, appearing no
Speaker 1: more interested in him than in anything else it might
Speaker 1: be seen, Hey, Houston said, But the monkey didn't seem
Speaker 1: to hear. As he held the animal in his hands,
Speaker 1: its heart stopped beating. He gave it a shake, but
Speaker 1: he knew it was useless. He felt as if everything
Speaker 1: was all his fault, and with no one around to
Speaker 1: know about it, he let himself cry like a child.
Speaker 1: He was eighteen years old. All right, thank you for
Speaker 1: your comments. If you haven't comment it, hit the pause
Speaker 1: button on the video or the podcast. And I don't
Speaker 1: know how to comment on these podcast apps, but I'm
Speaker 1: assuming you can. The whole point of this exercise is
Speaker 1: not for me to get comments. Comments do help the channel,
Speaker 1: but that's not what I'm doing. I'm trying to demonstrate
Speaker 1: for you how good writing can actually move a reader
Speaker 1: to almost tears. If you want to listen to that
Speaker 1: whole book on or if you want to read it,
Speaker 1: just search for Dennis Johnson on Amazon and you can
Speaker 1: buy the book or any of his books. I've only
Speaker 1: read one book, Train Dreams, but if you want to search,
Speaker 1: he's got six or eight novels out and I'm sure
Speaker 1: they're all written extremely well. May not be the subject
Speaker 1: matter you're interested in, but if you're like me, if
Speaker 1: you just appreciate exceptional writing, Dennis Johnson is one of
Speaker 1: those guys. Now, and let me say this, if you
Speaker 1: want to listen to it on audible, Will Patten is
Speaker 1: the narrator. He is the king of all narrators. He
Speaker 1: did so much better with that little scene than I did.
Speaker 1: If you listen to it, you'll hear it. You'll hear it.
Speaker 1: You'll feel even more emotional when you hear Will Patten
Speaker 1: when you hear Will Patten read it. But I just
Speaker 1: wanted to share it with my audience, so I read it.
Speaker 1: I couldn't grab Will Patten's audio and let you hear
Speaker 1: it because it would have been a copyright. So anyway,
Speaker 1: all that said, speaking of writing, let's talk about Steve Lily.
Speaker 1: I don't have any notes here, and I don't know
Speaker 1: exactly how to say what I'm about to say. And
Speaker 1: it's not bad news. I'm going to keep writing Steve Lily,
Speaker 1: but this for the last I think I've been writing
Speaker 1: those for three four years now. And the first one,
Speaker 1: just so you know, the first one that I put out,
Speaker 1: I actually put it out on this podcast. I had
Speaker 1: some free time and I just spent about three hours
Speaker 1: and I just wrote this real quick story. And I'll
Speaker 1: tell you why I wrote it is because all of
Speaker 1: these Bigfoot stories they kind of run together, and they're
Speaker 1: all basically the same. If you watch a Bigfoot movie,
Speaker 1: the Bigfoot is always the terror in the woods, and
Speaker 1: Bigfoot is the focus of all those films and all
Speaker 1: of these stories. And I wanted to at that moment
Speaker 1: when I wrote Steve Lily Number one, which would later
Speaker 1: become I didn't plan it on being a series. I
Speaker 1: just thought, you know, i've got an afternoon free, I'm
Speaker 1: going to write something different. I'm going to turn the
Speaker 1: tables and make the Bigfoot story about the people who,
Speaker 1: in this case are hunting Bigfoot. And I kind of
Speaker 1: ran through several scenarios of how this guy could get
Speaker 1: roped into hunting Bigfoot by the government and just be
Speaker 1: a personable guy that you could begin to know and like,
Speaker 1: and then put some of his friends with him and
Speaker 1: you begin to like them. I'm an old fashioned story
Speaker 1: kind of person. I like the good guy versus the
Speaker 1: bad guy, and there's a conflict and there's a resolution,
Speaker 1: and there's an ending and the good guy comes out
Speaker 1: on top. I may not write all the Steve Lilly
Speaker 1: stories that way, but and then I got to thinking, well,
Speaker 1: let me back up. So the first one so many
Speaker 1: people liked it, I thought, well, okay, I'll write another one.
Speaker 1: So I just kind of dreamed up another story, and
Speaker 1: I put out number two. And I don't even remember
Speaker 1: what I wrote in like two through I kind of
Speaker 1: remember a three part series, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. I don't know.
Speaker 1: I've got one that's two parts and one that's three parts,
Speaker 1: and then I've got nineteen, and then I've got twenty.
Speaker 1: But what is going on with the Steve Lilly thing? People?
Speaker 1: I've had complaints about Steve Lilly. I've had these mostly
Speaker 1: ninety nine percent people seem to really enjoy Steve Lily,
Speaker 1: and thank you so much for the encouraging comments. This
Speaker 1: is the best audience on the planet. But there is
Speaker 1: a certain group of people that expect every story to
Speaker 1: be like Steve Lily, maybe like one through ten but
Speaker 1: you have to understand I didn't know how to write.
Speaker 1: I had never written much of anything. I've always wanted
Speaker 1: to write, but I've never had time to. You know,
Speaker 1: to write, you have to sit down and think, and
Speaker 1: you have to write and then go back and edit
Speaker 1: it and clean it up and make it more legible.
Speaker 1: And it's kind of a process that I didn't expect
Speaker 1: that I would have to go through, but that is
Speaker 1: the process. And you want to write something different, something,
Speaker 1: you know, a story people can relate to. And anyway,
Speaker 1: every guy in the Steve Lily, every person in the
Speaker 1: Steve Lilly series is someone I know, even Steve Leary
Speaker 1: Steve Lily, He's sort of a composite of several iron
Speaker 1: workers I've known through the years in my business. But
Speaker 1: here's what I'm trying to get across to you. I'm
Speaker 1: teaching myself how to write. And around episode nine or ten,
Speaker 1: I decided, you know what I need to I owe
Speaker 1: this audience a better story, a better written story. And
Speaker 1: I want to even though it's a silly, kind of
Speaker 1: slapstick jamble of stories that really go nowhere, they're just
Speaker 1: episodes of They're just little ideas I come up with
Speaker 1: all these stories are kind of built off of some
Speaker 1: little funny EPs I have in my mind. So for
Speaker 1: instance nineteen where they go to help out Charlie with
Speaker 1: the bigfoot that he dug up or the Bigfoot clan
Speaker 1: that comes after him because he dug up a bigfoot skeleton.
Speaker 1: That started out with a vision for some reason, it
Speaker 1: just popped in my head a bigfoot sitting on a
Speaker 1: tractor driving a tractor. I have no idea why that
Speaker 1: popped in my head. Well, it wound up being a skeleton,
Speaker 1: but it was some method that they used to draw
Speaker 1: these bigfoots out and kill them, like that whole open
Speaker 1: Door story. And I'll admit I went too far in
Speaker 1: that story. That story was dealt with portals and hundreds
Speaker 1: of bigfoots pouring out of the portals, and it was
Speaker 1: kind of silly, and I don't really go into the
Speaker 1: woo stuff. I guess I just felt like righting that
Speaker 1: kind of story at that time. And then twenty was
Speaker 1: about I had a vision of a baby big Foot
Speaker 1: and a woman bringing it back to camping and attacking everybody,
Speaker 1: So that whole story was built around that. So you
Speaker 1: got to have a bad guy good guy gotta have
Speaker 1: annoying characters. I like putting in annoying characters. Now, I
Speaker 1: told you all I was going to ramble on in
Speaker 1: this podcast, so hang with me. If you're still with me,
Speaker 1: I just want you to know that I'm trying to
Speaker 1: teach myself how to write, and I feel like that
Speaker 1: you cannot become a good writer unless you're a prolific reader,
Speaker 1: which I am. I read as much as I can
Speaker 1: possibly read fiction nonfiction. I just finished a book, well
Speaker 1: it's on my nightstand, but it's a nonfiction book by
Speaker 1: Buddy Levy about a polar expedition into the toward the
Speaker 1: North Pole, and it's a harrowing thing. I love good history.
Speaker 1: But you can read good history and good contemporary narrative
Speaker 1: history and you can get great ideas of how to write,
Speaker 1: and you if those things teach you how to write,
Speaker 1: and you also get ideas for stories. Now I'm reading
Speaker 1: some other stuff by some non best selling authors, some
Speaker 1: guys I actually met this weekend. Two of those guys
Speaker 1: handed me their books, and I'm gonna I'm going to
Speaker 1: try to do their audio books on the podcast, maybe
Speaker 1: sooner than later, because they're they're kind of they're they're
Speaker 1: real interesting to me. So anyway, all that to say,
Speaker 1: if you're disappointed in Steve Lily or if you're happy
Speaker 1: with Steve Lily, I want you to know that I'm
Speaker 1: teaching myself to write how to write, and you're kind of,
Speaker 1: whether you know it or not, you're kind of following
Speaker 1: along the evolution of a man in his sixties who
Speaker 1: has found a passion late in life. And I'm teaching
Speaker 1: myself to write. And I am trying to teach myself
Speaker 1: that by reading great authors like Dennis Johnson. I've read
Speaker 1: several passages from several books. I've even read short stories
Speaker 1: by really good authors, Tom Franklin, Michael Ferris Smith, Larry Brown,
Speaker 1: and there are Jeff Crawford is a good author I've read.
Speaker 1: I just put up a whole audio book on my
Speaker 1: podcast network that he wrote. And I feel like the
Speaker 1: more I read, the more I learned to write. And
Speaker 1: you're getting not getting don't feel like you're I don't
Speaker 1: think you're privileged to do this, but you're kind of
Speaker 1: coming along with me on that road. And So I
Speaker 1: had started a Steve Lilly novel two years ago, and
Speaker 1: every time I read another book I think about what
Speaker 1: I've written, and I go back and change it because
Speaker 1: I think, damn, I can do that better, and so
Speaker 1: I'll try to do it better. And so I hope
Speaker 1: to get a Steve Lilly novel out, maybe by the
Speaker 1: end of the summer. I don't know, and I'm going
Speaker 1: to record the audiobook and put it out. Maybe we
Speaker 1: can do a series. I have other stories in my
Speaker 1: head I want to write that have nothing to do
Speaker 1: with Bigfoot or they're just normal stories. So I wanted
Speaker 1: to read that to you to tell you that good
Speaker 1: writing will provoke these emotions from you. And that is
Speaker 1: what I tried to do in Steve Lily twenty, specifically
Speaker 1: that sorry couple on the side of the road, leaving
Speaker 1: those dogs behind them. The goal was to get you
Speaker 1: to hate them, and based on the comments I've got
Speaker 1: on Steve Lily twenty, accomplished my mission. I've got so
Speaker 1: many emails. There's a lot of people pissed off about that.
Speaker 1: Matter of fact, I got about a half a dozen
Speaker 1: comments and emails from people saying they're unsubscribing because I
Speaker 1: wrote that scene in that story. It's fiction, it's not real,
Speaker 1: but you know, those things do happen. I mean, there
Speaker 1: are plenty of people who just leave dogs on the
Speaker 1: side of the highway, and that is a part of reality.
Speaker 1: But if it made you hate that couple that was
Speaker 1: in the car, then I accomplished my mission. So I
Speaker 1: consider that one of the best things I've written. Even
Speaker 1: though it may have made you mad, it evoked this
Speaker 1: emotion from you that was I want to use the
Speaker 1: word visceral, but I don't really know what the word
Speaker 1: visceral means, but it seems appropriate, like this visceral, obvious
Speaker 1: type emotion from people. And so I learned a little
Speaker 1: bit about how to develop characters and make you like them,
Speaker 1: make you hate them, all those kind of things, and
Speaker 1: I was just trying to do that in this story. Anyway.
Speaker 1: That's kind of what's going on with Steve Lilly. Now
Speaker 1: I want to read you a story I got from
Speaker 1: This is actually an email I got. It's a story
Speaker 1: a published author has written specifically for this podcast. I'm
Speaker 1: sure he's published in other places, but it is his
Speaker 1: struggle with depression. This guy went down a road that
Speaker 1: was terrible, terrible, terrible, and he's just listening to the story.
Speaker 1: But it's a happy ending. We won't drop off on
Speaker 1: this podcast with a gloomy kind of mood. But I
Speaker 1: think you're really gonna like this and you're gonna appreciate it,
Speaker 1: and it ought to provoke an emotion from you that is,
Speaker 1: I'll use the word again, visceral. You will. You'll actually
Speaker 1: be moved by the story. So again, this is a
Speaker 1: different podcast. It's just something I've been wanting to do
Speaker 1: for a while. Talk about writing, talk about Steve Lilly,
Speaker 1: talk about good writing, talk about emotional writing and how
Speaker 1: it can move you. And here is one of those
Speaker 1: stories that will do that. And then I'll sign off
Speaker 1: at the end. But listen into the story, and when
Speaker 1: you get to the end of it, even if you've
Speaker 1: commented before, push the pause button and let me know
Speaker 1: how this story makes you feel. It's going to take
Speaker 1: you deep into the recesses of the human mind that
Speaker 1: makes some of us want to do things that we
Speaker 1: probably that are dangerous for us. So listen to it,
Speaker 1: leave a comment and I'll talk to you at the end. Thanks.
Speaker 1: This email is from Greg ball And Greg Ballin is
Speaker 1: a published author. A published author, it's several books out
Speaker 1: on Amazon. Greg Ballin, GR E, G. B. A L.
Speaker 1: L A N. You can look him up. I've done
Speaker 1: a couple of his creature stories on this podcast, one
Speaker 1: being that I remember is called The War of the Species,
Speaker 1: really good story he wrote. This is a personal story
Speaker 1: that he sent to me. I called Greg, I said,
Speaker 1: can I attach your name to this email? He said yes,
Speaker 1: so let's read the email. Thank you so much for
Speaker 1: reading the many of my stories. I'm extremely humbled and grateful.
Speaker 1: This is a tale about a real experience I had
Speaker 1: in September of nineteen ninety eight. I was experiencing an
Speaker 1: incredibly bad depression. I had never been at such a
Speaker 1: low point in my life. I've been through hard times before,
Speaker 1: but nothing like what I was in during that late
Speaker 1: summer and fall. I can no longer take the pain,
Speaker 1: and I decided to end my life. I called in
Speaker 1: sick to work on a cloudy Wednesday and went to
Speaker 1: the gun range intent on suicide. The attached is the
Speaker 1: true tale of my experience and how a strange old
Speaker 1: man saved me from making a horrible, horrible choice. Five
Speaker 1: years later, my best friend and hunting buddy took his
Speaker 1: own life. Often wonder why I was fortunate enough to
Speaker 1: escape my fate, and he wasn't. I witnessed the pain
Speaker 1: his death caused his sons and daughter, at the horrible
Speaker 1: months of tears and the questions that followed his passing.
Speaker 1: I can only imagine what my young wife and small
Speaker 1: children would have gone through. My death would have ended
Speaker 1: my pain, but permanently scarred my children. My friend's children
Speaker 1: have been scarred for life. And even today, twenty one
Speaker 1: years later, I still miss my friend and long for
Speaker 1: the times we had spent together in the woods and
Speaker 1: at his dinner table, talking and laughing. I hope you
Speaker 1: find merit in this true story. It is not as
Speaker 1: creepy as the haunted forest, or the scary or as
Speaker 1: scary as the war of the species or the binding Watch.
Speaker 1: But I have never forgotten that afternoon when I almost
Speaker 1: made the worst possible decision the human can make. Thank
Speaker 1: you for getting me through my damn. I hadn't even
Speaker 1: gotten the story in his Every time I read this note,
Speaker 1: he said to me, it chokes me up. Thank you
Speaker 1: for getting me through my long workdays. I feel like
Speaker 1: we're old friends, and I have several colleagues following your podcast.
Speaker 1: Very respectfully, Greg Balin, Well Greg, thank you now Here's
Speaker 1: Greg's story. It's called a talk with an angel. I
Speaker 1: had nowhere else to turn. No other solution seemed viable.
Speaker 1: Why oh why want this pain and misery leave me?
Speaker 1: I can't find the strength to get up in the morning,
Speaker 1: and I find myself dragging through each day the misery
Speaker 1: of mere existence more than my tortured soul can bear.
Speaker 1: Work is hopeless. I'm falling further and further behind. Home
Speaker 1: is nothing but strife and turmoil. I'm constantly being yelled at.
Speaker 1: What's wrong with you? Why can't you just stop this?
Speaker 1: You have responsibilities in a family to support. Everybody is
Speaker 1: relying on me, depending on me, and counting on me
Speaker 1: for some chore, some favor, some task that needs my attention.
Speaker 1: Nobody asks how I'm feeling, how I'm doing? Am I okay?
Speaker 1: I'm supposed to be strong and a warrior. I'm not
Speaker 1: allowed to be weak. I have too many people counting
Speaker 1: on me, and now I'm only allowed to be strong
Speaker 1: and carry others. This is my sole purpose to give
Speaker 1: and never receive. The well is run dry. The giving
Speaker 1: tree has no more branches. No one can understand how
Speaker 1: or why this happened to me. Hell I can't figure
Speaker 1: out how this happened. I've fallen so far, so fast,
Speaker 1: and I never saw it coming. This was the only answer.
Speaker 1: It will end my pain and I can finally rest.
Speaker 1: I drove my truck to the rifle range. It's the
Speaker 1: middle of a weekday, so I'm completely alone. I took
Speaker 1: out my nine millimeter auto and loaded a hallow point
Speaker 1: into the gun. I cycled around and removed the safety.
Speaker 1: I can feel the tears flowing from my eyes as
Speaker 1: I stared down the barrel of the pistol. The muted
Speaker 1: black grip feels perversely comforting in my hand, and the
Speaker 1: weapon is waiting to bark, its doom filled answer to
Speaker 1: my problems. My mood like the sky is bleak, cold
Speaker 1: and gray, a perfect day to expire. Is this really
Speaker 1: my only option? Something inside me screamed as my finger
Speaker 1: starts to squeeze the trigger. Yes, A voice whispered back,
Speaker 1: it's my own. I hear the words, but am I
Speaker 1: actually saying it? A sense of peace washes over me. Finally,
Speaker 1: I've made a decision to do it. I can feel
Speaker 1: the release point on the trigger. Another millimeter and I'll
Speaker 1: be free of all the pain and all the misery.
Speaker 1: There'll be no more yelling, no more stress, no more pain.
Speaker 1: Oh God, finally, no more pain. I hesitated for a second,
Speaker 1: hovering over the brink of my life. An instant eradication.
Speaker 1: The sound of footsteps make me ease off the trigger.
Speaker 1: I lower the gun just as the stranger arrives with
Speaker 1: his gun case in supply pack. You shooting today? Do
Speaker 1: you mind some company, an old man asked in a
Speaker 1: soft voice. Well, I don't own this place, and just
Speaker 1: remember like you, I replied in an unfriendly tone. Snarky
Speaker 1: reply I didn't seem to bother him. He unpacked his
Speaker 1: rifle and opened his shooting bag. I'd never seen such
Speaker 1: an elegant rifle before. The engraving was inlaid into the stock.
Speaker 1: Beautifully breathtaking images were intricately carved and further embellished upon
Speaker 1: the silvery gun medal. The stranger caught me staring at
Speaker 1: his rifle and without warning, tossed the weapon at me.
Speaker 1: I reached out on instinct and grabbed a stock and
Speaker 1: twisted the muzzle toward the ground in one fluid motion.
Speaker 1: Not bad for a Yankee, he said, walking toward me.
Speaker 1: I knew you wouldn't drop it. Are you a member here,
Speaker 1: I challenged, handing him back his rifle after admiring the
Speaker 1: weapon's beauty, Oh, I just joined, the stranger replied. I
Speaker 1: hadn't been to a meeting since the onset of my depression,
Speaker 1: so I had no reason to doubt his word. I
Speaker 1: turned my back, staring at my pistol lying on the
Speaker 1: shooting bench. Couldn't do this with an audience. I'd head
Speaker 1: into the woods and find a peaceful spot and make
Speaker 1: it my final resting place. Have a good time. It's
Speaker 1: all yours, I said. I grabbed my stuff, ready to
Speaker 1: face oblivion alone in the woods. I turned to go,
Speaker 1: and the old man sighed in frustration. I looked over
Speaker 1: at him, and he asked me if I knew anything
Speaker 1: about rifles. I nodded a great deal. Actually, I don't
Speaker 1: know why I felt compelled to answer him. The bolt
Speaker 1: isn't sliding properly. I think something's wrong, but I don't
Speaker 1: have any tools, he commented, struggling with the rifle bolt action.
Speaker 1: We'll put it on the bench. I'll take a look
Speaker 1: at it. I sighed. I had come here intent on
Speaker 1: ending my life, and I wound up performing a service call.
Speaker 1: I started wrestling with the bolt on his rifle, and
Speaker 1: he just began to talk. He spoke of his travels
Speaker 1: and his love of hunting and shooting, and his appreciation
Speaker 1: of nature. I found him. I'm annoyingly happy for the
Speaker 1: first five minutes while he babbled on like we were
Speaker 1: old friends. He began asking questions about me. Where did
Speaker 1: I live, how did I find the love of the outdoors,
Speaker 1: and other things that only two hunters can appreciate. I
Speaker 1: don't remember exactly when I realized it, but suddenly, for
Speaker 1: the first time in three months, I felt like I
Speaker 1: had someone I could actually relate with. I began answering
Speaker 1: his questions while asking a few of my own. Between
Speaker 1: wrestling with a stubborn rifle action. We talked a great
Speaker 1: deal more about our lives and our problems, mine in particular.
Speaker 1: I never confessed to this stranger why I had come
Speaker 1: here today as I finished freeing and cleaning the jam
Speaker 1: bolt action. But since the old man knew all too well.
Speaker 1: When he interrupted, he read the guilt in my eyes.
Speaker 1: He knew if I walked away it would be to
Speaker 1: finish what he interrupted. Where do you store this right
Speaker 1: in alent factory. I lightly teased him, and he laughed,
Speaker 1: a joyous sound that made me chuckle along with him.
Speaker 1: The lent mixed with the gun ole and powder residue
Speaker 1: coated this thing like tarl like coating. You're lucky this
Speaker 1: thing cycled at all, I explained, as I threw away
Speaker 1: two filthy cleaning rags. She smoothed in silk across the
Speaker 1: babies behind now, I added, handing him his rifle. The
Speaker 1: old man worked the action a few times and smiled warmly.
Speaker 1: He haded my pistol lying on the shooting bench. I
Speaker 1: followed his gaze and looked upon my weapon. He seemed
Speaker 1: to be waiting for me to say something, offer up
Speaker 1: a reason for what we both knew he'd seen. I
Speaker 1: chose to keep silent. You any good with that? He
Speaker 1: pointed toward the pistol. Uh good enough, but I could
Speaker 1: always be better, I answered, in a much warmer tone
Speaker 1: than I originally greeted him. So let's shoot, Yankee impressed me.
Speaker 1: He gestured toward the range targets. We spent an hour
Speaker 1: going through several hundred rounds of ammunition, chatting like we
Speaker 1: were old friends as we paused to reload and examine
Speaker 1: our targets. As I was firing round after round, my
Speaker 1: mind began to visualize what would have happened when my
Speaker 1: children learned Daddy splattered his brains all over this gun club.
Speaker 1: They were too young to understand my pain and my problems.
Speaker 1: It just knew Daddy wasn't feeling well, but he'd be
Speaker 1: better soon. Now. I had visions of them at my funerals,
Speaker 1: staring at my headstone, not really comprehending the fact that
Speaker 1: I was never coming home. I envisioned the bank for
Speaker 1: closing on the house, and other terrible visions. I put
Speaker 1: the gun down and tried to fight back the tears.
Speaker 1: What did I almost do? I mumbled, staring at the
Speaker 1: target I had totally destroyed. I looked over and the
Speaker 1: old man was staring at me concerned. Are you okay?
Speaker 1: He asked me. Yeah, I think so, I replied, as
Speaker 1: that morbid cemetery vision stayed with me. You sure, greg,
Speaker 1: he asked me again. Yeah, I'm gonna be fine, I answered,
Speaker 1: as a sense of relief washed over me. He packed
Speaker 1: up his rifle and gathered his equipment and prepared to leave.
Speaker 1: I watched him in silence, still thinking about what would
Speaker 1: have happened had this man not come here. He walked
Speaker 1: over and extended his hand. Thanks for fixing me up,
Speaker 1: he raised his rifle case. I don't mention it. Clean
Speaker 1: that beauty as soon as you get home. And thanks
Speaker 1: for the company, I noted, and gave him a half salute.
Speaker 1: You're welcome, he answered with a deep smile. Funny thing
Speaker 1: about problems, Greg, they oftentimes seem bigger because you're in
Speaker 1: the middle of them. Take a step outside of them
Speaker 1: for a while, and don't be afraid to talk to somebody.
Speaker 1: Even a warrior needs to rest once in a while.
Speaker 1: After all, you are only human. Amen to that, brother,
Speaker 1: I shouted back. As I turned together up my things.
Speaker 1: I heard him laugh for a moment, and then I
Speaker 1: heard nothing, no footfalls or rustling or twelve fabric that
Speaker 1: had announced his presence. And I spun back around quickly
Speaker 1: and he was gone. I made my way up the
Speaker 1: path at a rapid pace, only to find an empty
Speaker 1: parking lot and my truck parked nearby in the grass.
Speaker 1: It was no way the old man could have moved
Speaker 1: so fast. I would have heard his car start if
Speaker 1: he had driven here. If he had walked, he would
Speaker 1: easily be within visual range. And then it hit me
Speaker 1: like an electric shock, A tingling sensation raced through my body,
Speaker 1: and he called me by name. Never once in our
Speaker 1: conversation did I give him my name, and I never
Speaker 1: bothered to ask for his. I used the terms guy,
Speaker 1: my friend bud on one occasion, and he always called
Speaker 1: me yankee, but we never bothered to exchange names. But
Speaker 1: through all of talking in conversation, I had never even
Speaker 1: thought to ask him, how did he know my name?
Speaker 1: Why did he use the term warrior? How did he
Speaker 1: know that particular word would hit home with me? I
Speaker 1: was a student of Bashido, the way of the warrior.
Speaker 1: How did he know? There's no possible way he could
Speaker 1: have known. I recovered from my depression in the weeks following.
Speaker 1: I was able to step outside my problems and take
Speaker 1: hold of them and control them, just as the old
Speaker 1: man suggested. I talked to a few people at work
Speaker 1: about my job, and I got the help that I
Speaker 1: needed there. Things were turning around. And as for the
Speaker 1: old man at the rifle range, I kept these mysteries
Speaker 1: to myself. I attended the next club meeting and I
Speaker 1: looked for the old man, but he never came. I
Speaker 1: asked around if anyone had seen him before. No one had.
Speaker 1: I asked the board members if they had voted in
Speaker 1: any new members had, but they were all men my
Speaker 1: age or younger, nobody as old as the man I described.
Speaker 1: I spent the rest of the meeting in a fog.
Speaker 1: I had been sent an angel in the form of
Speaker 1: an old man. I would have taken my own life
Speaker 1: that cold fall afternoon. Had he not been there to
Speaker 1: stop me, I would have put that nine milimeter around
Speaker 1: through my skull and left my kids without a father.
Speaker 1: I look back, and I wonder how I ever let
Speaker 1: things spiral so far out of control. Was it my
Speaker 1: pride at always having to be perfect? Was I really
Speaker 1: feeling like everybody wanted more than I could give? Will
Speaker 1: I ever be able to thank that old man for
Speaker 1: saving my life. I still don't know the answers, and
Speaker 1: I've gathered enough wisdom to realize I'll always have more
Speaker 1: questions than answers. The old man taught me that problems
Speaker 1: aren't always as big as they see, provided there's someone
Speaker 1: around to hell put them in perspective. The price for
Speaker 1: my life, and that piece of wisdom was the twenty
Speaker 1: minutes it took me to dissemble and clean a bolt
Speaker 1: action rifle. I write this in the memory of my
Speaker 1: dearest friend Glenn, who took his life in October of
Speaker 1: two thousand and four. My friend, I miss you greatly.
Speaker 1: Trying to get my composure here. That is a letter
Speaker 1: from a real man. You know his name, you know
Speaker 1: the problems he went through. He listed them all. These
Speaker 1: are problems that men from twenty years old to eighty
Speaker 1: year olds have. We have no one to talk to,
Speaker 1: We have no one, and we can relate these feelings to.
Speaker 1: Greg was provided. I believe one hundred percent it was
Speaker 1: an angel. If you're in a season of depression and
Speaker 1: you hear this story, there is hope. Just hang in there,
Speaker 1: Just hang on. That's all you have to do. I'm
Speaker 1: not a psychologists or a psychiatrist, and Greg, I'm sorry
Speaker 1: if I'm adding some commentary that you don't appreciate. I'm
Speaker 1: just asking these people to hang on, because that's what
Speaker 1: I got from this story. This man that just showed
Speaker 1: up at the rifle range just held him there and
Speaker 1: he was hanging on for just a minute, just another minute,
Speaker 1: just another minute, just another sentence. Until it all worked
Speaker 1: out in Greg's head. Thank you Greg for sending this.
Speaker 1: Please please please not comment for the sake of commenting,
Speaker 1: but comment how this letter from Greg Ballin made you
Speaker 1: feel he would be interested in seeing your comments and
Speaker 1: so so I'll end that podcast with this. It was
Speaker 1: a different podcast every once in a while, I don't know,
Speaker 1: I like to do something different. Hope you enjoyed it
Speaker 1: and we'll see guys on the next week.