I've never told this story to anyone.

Government men said they'd place me in a military prison and seize all my family's property

if I did.

Not wanting to see my family lose the homestead, I've kept my mouth shut. However, my doctor recently gave me a

pretty sad outlook. It seems I only have a short time here left on earth. The family no longer

has any interest in the home place, so I figured it was time. I want to get this story out for all

the world to hear. I was born in southeast Kentucky in 1964 to a newly married young couple.

I actually think they married because Mama got pregnant with me.

Not long after that, my father was drafted and sent off to Vietnam.

Mama and me stayed with Papa down at the head of the

hauler. Ma Ma Ma Ma passed away while I was still in diapers, so the arrangement worked

out fine with Pawpaw. Having a woman around to take over Ma'amaw's housework and cooking

were just the ticket. My days were spent playing with my cousin Scott,

who everyone calls Scooter. My father was the youngest of seven brothers and Scooter's daddy was the

oldest. Even so, Scooter was a month younger than me. Being so close in age made us naturally

close in all things.

The years passed in a hazy daydream of woods and streams and rocky hillsides to

explore and conquer without a care in the world. And then one hot July day, the year Scooter and

I were set to start school, a couple of soldiers

showed up at Pawpaw's door in their dress uniforms. I thought it was my dad. He'd been gone

since before my memories were formed, so I couldn't have known that these men were not my father,

but the bearers of bad news that my father wasn't ever coming home we didn't

...