Semper Fi, Buddy

addper Fi, Buddy

I don't believe that I saw Ricky Williams again after June 4, 1982.

Ricky was the first friend I made when I started going to school in Monticello, Fla. He and I rode the bus to school together (Madge Shelly drove that bus), we played together, we fought together, we went to church together (rode a bus that Gene Sculley drove to church), we were in Royal Rangers together, we traded baseball cards, we did everything together that boys usually do.

Ricky taught me to love baseball, although we cheered for different teams. He was a Reds fan. I was a Dodgers fan. We were in fifth grade when Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth's record. I saw it on Channel 10 in Albany, Ga. and Ricky (who also watched it) and I talked about it the next day. Ricky taught me to play "thumps" and "b.b. bush" (both very painful games).

Ricky had two beautiful older sisters and I had two cute younger sisters. I had kind of a schoolboy crush on Ricky's sister, Becky, but she was a few years older. I think she may have been in ninth grade when I was in fifth.

In high school, Ricky and I drifted apart, but he was always my friend. He was the strong, athletic type. I was the nerd. He was a lineman on the high school football team and was in FFA. I was on the Brain Bowl team and the newspaper editor. We just started hanging around other friends.

On June 4, 1982, Ricky and I graduated high school and went our separate ways. After high school, I went to North Florida Junior College, then Florida State University, then out into the workforce. Ricky served his country proudly as a member of the United States Marine Corps. After the Marines, Ricky began working at FSU. He married his beautiful high school sweetheart. I remained single.

Ricky left this world on Monday, August 10, 2009. I am proud to have called Ricky friend. I miss him.

I know that, no matter how much I miss Ricky right now, it cannot compare to how much his wife, Pam, (who began dating Ricky when she was 15 and he was 17 and called him the love of her life), their kids and grandkids miss him. But I know, and I encourage Pam and the family to know that God can do all things and He will lift them up.

Semper fi, buddy. I love you.

 

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The Cost of Liberty

    I watched The Curious Cage of Benjamin Button tonight. Great movie, but not nearly as great as the short story written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Read it if you get a chance.

    I went to a town council meeting earlier tonight. It's amazing how many of our freedoms are being given away, just for a few dollars.

How much is liberty worth?

Surely more than the $600,000 grant the town wants.

Day’s End

    I am tired tonight. Busy day. All I have to blog is this: "Phew! I'm glad the ay is over."

The Tempting Seductress

    Once again, sleep beckons me. A tempting seductress, she speaks softly and sings lullabies to rock me to sleep.

    Tomorrow, I will awaken to another day. The day may bring joy. It may bring pain. All I know is that tomorrow will be different. No day is ever the same, at least not on my job.

    When I took a job in the newspaper business, I did not know how there would always been something different each day. Each day, there are new challenges, new people to meet and new stories to write. It's all different. It's all fresh. It may be exhilarating, it may be frustrating, but there is always excitement. Some of the excitement I like. Some of it I don't, but at least I can never say my job is boring.

    Lately, my life away from work has been anything but boring and dull. How I long for just a normal dull day. I pray that my level of excitement goes up with my level of exhilaration. I pray for frustration and troubles to ride out on the wind.

    Now, I listen to sleep's sexy voice. Perhaps that is where I will have a "normal dull day" in the darkness of the night.

    Good night, readers. Have pleasant dreams.

A License To Live

    I awoke this morning after seven hours of blissful sleep. After hardly sleeping the night before, I needed the sleep before going back to my assignment.

    When I speak of my assignment, I am not talking about my job. Today is Sunday, the Lord's Day, so during my assignment, one of the geographical locations I will visit is 2485 SE Midway Church Road, Lee, Florida. I will be in church. It is only part of today's assignment, but it could be the most important part.

    My life is filled with suspense. My assignment is to live and breathe, to be the places I need to be and do the things that I need to do. I'm not sure of what all of them will be.

    Recently, some of the curves in the road have been sharper and some of the mountains I have had to climb have been harder. God never promised me an easy life. He did promise strength to sustain me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:5
 

    Today, I will get dressed and head out to my next assignment. I'm not "Bond…James Bond" and I don't have a license to kill. I'm Bembry…Jacob Bembry and I have a license to live.

The Seductive Voice Of The Siren, Sleep

    Sleep is beginning to creep up on me. Like a scene in a horror movie, it creeps up stealthily behind me and taps me on the shoulder with its cold bony hand.

I need sleep. I crave sleep. Tonight, I will yield to its seductive voice.

    I did not sleep much last night – or this morning I should say. I was seeking ways to find more followers for this blog. I want to be able to share my "Jacob's Ladder" column and my faith with the world. If I gain followers and get more page views, hopefully I can garner advertising dollars and make the site profitable for me. Regardless of whether I do turn a dime or not, I will keep blogging. If nothing else, it will be therapeutic for me and everyone needs therapy now and then.

    So, tonight, for a few hours, I will shroud myself in the tomb of slumber. Tomorrow, if the Lord tarries, I will awaken and get ready for church. If he does not tarry, I will awaken to the sound of Gabriel's trumpet and rise through the air and meet Him in the sky.

    Good night, everyone.

Pleasant dreams.

Summer’s Fleeting Symphony

    Flowers bursting forth with fragrance. Newly mown grass. The smell of hay after the rain. It was the first day of August and the aromas still wafted on the wings of the wind, but they were not as noticeable as they had been at the first of spring.

    Spring had brought with it change. A 12-year-old boy notices the smells that spring brings. Freshly cut grass. The smell of cowhide in baseball gloves and the smell of a new baseball before its first pitch is ever thrown.

    Twelve-year-old boys being twelve, they also notice how pretty that 12-year-old girl smells, whether it's from her perfume, soap or maybe just a stick of Juicy Fruit she might be chewing.

    With its smells, spring also brought change. Soon, school would be getting out for summer and I and the other 12-year-old boys would enjoy our vacation.

    When the first day of August rolled around, I began to dread going back to school but it's was always with a hint of excitement for lay ahead. A new school year brought with it new smells, including the smell of new jeans, newly sharpened pencils, new paper and the smells of the freshly mimeographed syllabi that teachers would hand out.

    Today is the first of August. It's exactly one month from my birthday on September 1. It is exactly eight days from my sister Abbie's 40^th birthday. It's exactly six months after my brother Danny's 41^st birthday. There are still smells, there is still change and the world keeps turning as it did when I was 12 years old.

    Mimeographs are a thing of the past. New jeans don't seem to have the same smell as they did when I was 12. What's happened to the fresh smell of a new notebook?

    The flowers and the grass still smell the same and I give God thanks for that.

    Soon, summer will be ending and autumn leaves will fall to the ground, begging me to rake them up. Then, the warm Florida autumn will turn to a fairly cold north Florida winter before spring bursts forth in song again, beckoning me to take her by the hand and dance.

    Now, I listen as summer plays the notes on her symphony. The symphony will end soon, but it still seems so far away.