Since my humble beginning long, long ago I have felt drawn to Red River like a divining rod drawn to water.
I remember the story well. My dad and mother and dad's
brother and wife had gone fishing on Red River. "The year was 1940, and the best I can remember it was October," Dad would begin. "We threw our pallets on the sandbar. Your mother and Dovie built sand castles while Earl and I caught fish for supper. After supper we searched the skies for the Little Dipper and watched the moon rise."
Nine months later, July 11, 1941, I made my debut.
Red River shaped my destiny; not the alignment of the stars, not the signs of the Zodiac.
