from a deep water barge into a swift water canoe and then into a dune buggy and then into a bulldozing-dogwood-hauling freighter. Zap! Suddenly I was jolted awake by ligntening and a clap of thunder. Finding at my feet, three more bundles to carry back down the river across the swamp and to my truck, I put the dream machine into the back of my mind.
In some ways I may be like dad, but making do is not one of them. I want the best equipment, the best tools and the.... I'm talking to myself again! I've got to get out of the swamps before I do an exit and run number. As the years passed I became reconciled with the swamps; I no longer talk, to myself — now, I talk to the swamps!
My designs were virtually created by the dogwood's will. Through trial and error the dogwood showed me how tight it would bend before it snapped. The hoops showed me they looked a part of the design when I placed them certain ways and that I should let them relax for ergonomic seats and backs. I learned what dad meant when he said, "Let the dogwood hoop get used to the shape it's in." I learned also, that looking on as dad shaped and molded the dogwood hoops hadn't taught me the will of the dogwood; that, the dogwood must teach me! By 1996 I had endured many hardships; but, considered myself successful. I had a large efficient shop that I had constructed with my own hands. I had stocked it with modern tools. My, Dream Machine all terrain boat had sprung into life and was absolutely wonderful.
And then in one dreadful night fire destroyed it all — it was gone — Leap Year night 1996.
I said, in shock, to my wife and friends as we huddled nearby and watched my shop burn to the ground; well one thing, we won't have to remember this
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anniversary but once every four years. I entered a dismal time in my life; where I could not see ahead because of the hurt that was behind me. That is a terrible
