Journal Notes

It’s always good to hear from readers who like the books you’ve worked on. Writing is such a solitary profession and you never know if anyone has given the material a look. It’s amazing how much encouragement a postive remark about the books gives you. I’m grateful. I spent part of Friday with a reporter from the Sacramento Bee. Al Pierleoni was kind and asked a number of thoughtful questions. The article is to appear in the Wednesday, January 16 edition of the paper. These are all very positive things, but I still miss my brother and would do anything to get beyond that darkness. Any day now…

I’ve been finishing up the book about schoolmarms of the Old West and remembering the truly inspirational teachers I’ve known. I was in Germany during my eigth grade year and enjoyed all the art classes I had with Mrs. Lucille Ramsey. She was smart and well dressed and had done away with the traditional desks and chairs and replaced them with pillows and stools. It was the mid-70s and she was very progressive. She was an encourager too. No matter what outlandish art project students worked on she praised us for our effort. That’s what I remember best about Mrs. Ramsey. She made you think you had potential just in your trying and it made you want to try harder.

I’ve been working on the final chapter for the book about schoolmarms of the Old West and was impacted by the affection Bethenia Owens-Adair had for her teacher. She was 12 years old when she entered his class in 1852 and terribly upset when he left to teach in another location. The following is a piece from the chapter.

“Bethenia blinked away more tears. Mr. Beaufort took her hand in his and led her out the door. The two walked down the dusty roadway to the gate and continued on for a bit without saying a word. Finally, Mr. Beaufort stopped and bent down next to the faithful student. “Now little one,” he kindly said, “you must go back. You are a nice little girl, and some day you will make a fine woman, but you must remember and study your book hard, and when you get to be a woman everybody will love you, and don’t forget your first teacher, will you?” Mr. Beaufort scooped Bethenia into his arms, kissed her cheek, sat her down in the direction of her home, and went on his way. Bethenia hurried back to the house where she found a quiet spot to cry over the loss of the teacher she so worshipped.”

If I had never experienced the effects of a vindictive teenager I would look upon the above as wholly innocent. But one person has changed the way I see such tales forever. All I could think of as I wrote about Mr. Beaufort was how afraid he should be. He was being kind, but a depraved person would see it differently. They would twist his actions to fit their own devious plan. And in this day and age Mr. Beaufort would be in prison for life…because all it takes is one false claim, one awful allegation. No proof. Just a claim…just an allegation.

A major storm is brewing outside and the wind is gusting violently. I’m pleased to be safe inside my office writing about the Old West. The men in the posse I’m writing about were stuck in this kind of weather for a couple of days. The conditions beyond my window help me to imagine what Wyatt, Bill, Bat, and Jim were up against. I received an email from Lisa Rea. She is the president and founder of The Justice and Reconciliation Project. She’s a dedicated woman with a heart for God and a great desire for hurting hearts to be mended. She emailed me the story of a man who had been in prison for 26 years. He was accused of raping a young woman and DNA testing recently revealed that he didn’t do it. It turns out the woman, who was a teenager at the time, had been having sex with her boyfriend and was afraid to admit that. She accused an innocent man of a vile act and the circumstantial evidence along with her false statements brought about a conviction. It’s tragic and all too familiar. The FBI has announced that they are looking into more than one thousand such claims young girls made like this. Any woman who makes such claims and is determined later to have lied should be jailed along with the overzealous prosecutors. There ought to be a law….

It’s a new year and my prayer is that I can redirect much of the sadness and bitterness that I still feel into something positive. I enjoy reading about such sports greats as Vince Lombardi and George Allen. I covet their attitude. Lombardi said, “It’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get up.” And George Allen said, “The big thing is not what happens to us in in life, but what we do about what happens to us.” I’m going to make that my focus this year. I have a children’s book coming out in September of this year and half of the proceeds are going to go to Prison Fellowship Ministries. In some small way I hope this helps that ministry to continue on. The book is called The Christmas Adventures of Cowboy True. The illustrators working on the project are gifted artists and I’m proud of the job they’ve done. Can’t wait for everyone to see it.

Living in the high sierras of Northern California you get a sampling of all kinds of weather. As I write this the snow is coming down and the sun is trying desperately to make an appearance. The inches of snow and ice that cover my driveway have left me stranded in my house for a bit. I am able to use the time to answer many emails that have come in from readers who are anxious to read the book I’m writing about my brother’s situation. There are many people who have had to live with the loss of a loved because of fabricated evidence and the like. There are many authentic victims of injustice and it makes every authentic victim related in some sense. Books, movies, television shows, etc., on the subject of the bad guys getting what they deserve will always be popular. The desire to balance an account long overdue is powerful and universal.

It was a great pleasure to have been a guest on Loyce Smallwood’s radio program and discuss the books. She’s a sweet lady and is a gracious interviewer. I appreciate the calls and the questions about The Lady Was A Gambler. Hope readers enjoy the book and encourage those who sign my guest book who want a copy of the material to email me with their address. I am looking forward to getting back to work on the book about the most intrepid posse in the west. I’ve had to put it on the back-burner so I could finish the books about schoolmarms and women miners of the Old West. I am inspired by that story and am anxious to get back into it. I’m hoping that the book I’m writing about the situation involving my brother will help me feel less guilty and less sad. I feel haunted at this point and would dearly love to be at peace. I don’t know if that’s possible.

On Friday, December 14th I had the good fortune of being a part of a book signing at Amicus Books in historic Marysville, California. The ladies who hosted the event dressed up like characters from the book With Great Hope: Women of the Gold Rush and read aloud from a few of the chapters. It was a delight to meet the people that turned out for the event and I was honored that they liked the books enough to invite me to participate. I look forward to returning to the location in the near future. Tomorrow the production company that’s filming the documentary about John Wayne’s early years will be here to do an interview about the book The Young Duke. They sent me a list of talking points and I’ve been going over and over them in hopes that when the camera is on I sound like I actually know something about the Duke’s life. I feel like I’m studying for an exam – memorizing dates and places. He was a huge talent and I liked him because he was every man’s hero. He had a quiet strength. He was the good guy who always made the bad guy pay for his sins. I’m a big fan of that notion and believe the only place that ideal is ever realized is in motion pictures. I think that’s why so many are drawn to him. Who doesn’t want to see the Ned Peppers and Liberty Valances of this world shot? And who didn’t think Wayne was always the man for the job?

What a glorious few week of answered prayer and further dislpays of God at work. I’ve not kept up with my journal notes this week because I was directing the annual Christmas in Bethlehem production at the church I attend. A thousand people took the tour through the city and many lives were reached for the Lord. People left the tours knowing that we serve a real Savior. It was a blessing to be a part of the program. It couldn’t have happened at a better time too because right in the middle of spending long hours building the city I received an ugly message in the guest book section of this website. The designer of my web-page was able to trace the culprit down and I now know that the identity of the foul, unsigned memo writer. The note came during a rare moment when I was able to allow something else into my heart other than the overwhelming sense that my beloved brother is gone. My brother was a former policeman who attended numerous conference in his career to learn how to deal with a variety of situations. How to evaluate traffic accidents, how to identify arms dealers, how to identify and track people who forged checks, rob banks, plant bombs, and how to identify and track pedophiles to name a few. Every officer who attends such conferences receive how-to manuals to aid them in their efforts to apprehend criminals. The odious creature who signed my guest book stated that the training manual my brother was in possession of was in fact a book he had been writing himself about pedophilia. Every time the story about what happened to my brother is told more cruel lies are interjected. I guess that’s what some need to do to sleep at night. My brother was no author, but I am. And the book about the event, which is soon to be released, will tell all. In the meantime, life goes on. I’m going to get a chance to be a part of a documentary 20th Century Fox is doing on John Wayne. I meet with the production company next week and will be interviewed about the book I wrote on the Duke’s younger years. I’m excited about the possibility and look forward to meeting the crew. I hope the writer’s strike ends soon. The screenplays I’ve written are at a virtual standstill during this time. Work on the various books continues though. I’m blessed to have that.

I’m working this week on a missionary venture…giving tours through Bethlehem at my church. Once a year we transform the interior to look like the Holy city and conduct tours through it for the public. It’s a marvelous experience. I’ll be working on my new book as well, but the bulk of this important week is dedicated to telling people about God. I think it’s a great place to be when you are dealing with a loss. I have to admit that my hurt and anger has made me take my eyes off Him a lot lately. I hope this will be a blessing and many ways and act as a comfort. No one knew more about what it was like to be wrongly accused. The lies told about Jesus by the leaders of the Jewish high priests and Herod were staggering. I will take an example from my God. Herod questioned Jesus and asked Him about the things people have accused Him of, but Our Savior said nothing. Herod was too far gone to respond. Some depraved people are too far gone to respond to. Like Herod, evil has taken over and that’s all they see. Jesus knew responding to the enemy was a waste of time. There was no redemption for Herod. I’ve been hurting and very sad. This website reflects that to some extent. The loss of my brother has struck me hard. I miss him and always will. To know that he was lying in a pool of his own blood, beaten with his false teeth kicked out and smashed, glasses smashed, face unrecognizable. The image will haunt me forever. I am so grateful to God for giving me a heart to be torn over such things. I think I’m entitled to grieve. Dear Tammy, thank you for writing. I was able to get your email address from the brilliant webmaster of my site. I’m always amazed at what the people who manage a website are able to find out. So I’m off with paper in hand to write in between giving tours through Bethlehem. God knows it’s where I need to be writing.