Ronny's page 2

There was so much that I wanted to share about Ronnie Roberts, but I find that I can't. I don't have the eyes, or patience for it. I will tell you a story or two though.
As I lost vision, I tried to keep up with the classes Mike paid for. It was I that asked for a certain type of training, and I didn't want to let him down. The training was about thirty five miles from my home, and ended about ten at night. Ronnie would always offer to drive me home. The trip would add about an hour and a half to his night. When I would tell him that, he would say, "Meho, you are more important to me then sleep. I'll keep my phone on an extra hour cause you're so hardheaded." Love you too Meho.
In between being ornery and mean, causing trouble, and headaches, Ronnie would pull peoples butts out of whatever fire they found themselves in.
One night in late fall while driving down a rain soaked two lane he passed a young woman walking along the side of the road. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and only a light blouse. The lack of shoes on a cold rainy night bothered him enough to make him turn around and go back. He pulled up alongside her as she was walking and asked her if she wouldn't like to get in the truck and at least be warm and dry. She accepted and as he drove off, she told him that she had had a relationship-ending fight with her boyfriend and he had thrown her out in the rain dressed like that. Ronnie went to Wal-Mart, asked her her shoe size and went in and bought her some shoes and socks and other essentials, came back out to the truck and gave them to her. He then drove to the Embassy Suites. He had a voucher for three nights and so he checked her into the Embassy Suites and said, "Hon, you got three days to figure out what you want to do and where you want to go." He left her his number and then went home.
A mutual friend of ours found himself living under a bridge for awhile. When he went back to work and had a place to stay, he had no ride. Ronnie would pick him up and take him to and from every day, even though it was out of the way. When I asked him if it bugged him, he said, "No, he needs to get back and forth." With Ronnie, it was just that simple.
I hope that God finds his soul as beautiful and valuable as I do.

Ronny's page

This is a pic of one of my MEHO's. MEHO is a cross between my hero and my homey. Otherwise known as one of my buds. The pic is of him riding his motorcycle in his work uniform. This is the first of two pics of him in the local paper this month. The second was the pic his family used for his obituary. His page is one of the most complex I've ever tried to type. Ronnie was 53 when he died, and not more then a couple of months removed from his latest bar fight. He was a sudden man, one with the bark still on! Ronnie didn't pick fights, he welcomed them. He reminded me of my dad that way. Daddy slapped his last bar bully around at the age of seventy four. Ronnie said he would kick my ass about once a week. He also said the reason he didn't was cause he was afraid I wouldn't stay down when knocked there. He also said he loved me. Good thing too, cause I wanted to kick his ass too, but I loved him. He was a whistler, and to me that sounds like fingernails on a blackboard. I used to get him back by cutting loose with my air hammer when he was hung over. We used to try and do lunch about once a week. We would vent, and try to help each other fix cars. Ronnie and I didn't hang out after work much, to many miles. We did however stay close with work and the phone. He is one of the guys that has called me several times since my having to leave work. He got moved to a different location that my boss Mike owned, and it was good for both of us. I could miss him without his damn whistling, yet we could still be close. Continued....

Again, Angle Oak

I got a call from one of the guys that I work with today; that makes all but one. He was just checking up on me, hoping I'm ok. He wanted to tell me the latest news, I already knew. I had been out the night before with two other guys from work.
I got to thinking about old friends, kids that I grew up with. Sometimes it's hard to be a thousand miles from home. When I first came to the south, it seemed like a foreign land, one that I would never fit into. More then ten years have gone by, and I hardly recognise the world I came from. I have offered silent prayers that Phillips girlfriend would beat the cancer in her breasts, and become his bride. I've watched Bruce try to hold it together while his wife Kitty seemed to wither away. I've seen "That Man" live through a bad wreck that ended a football dream, but then drank at his wedding. I remember putting my faith into friends and neighbors to take care of my Dad as he had hip replacement a couple of months ago, while I couldn't get to him to help. I came to realise that my life spread out like the Angle Oak, covering a large place and being touched by many other souls. There isn't much garbage in my life, the people are real. The love can be touched. Seems I'm not so far from home after all, but then I've known that all along.
For all that call, or wright to me on blog and off. To those that think of me, and pray for me, to those that simply hope for me. I love you too.

The worm turns again

The pic is a sunset on Lake Murray, taken from the south side of Bombing island.
News all over the place. Daughters deployment is back on. I'm going to Emory to see a couple of Doc's on Jul 2 and 3. I don't mind telling you that I'm nervous, but also hopeful. The idea of not having these big thick glasses is exciting.

When good news is bad, or when bad news is good.

Pic is of some goofy girl on a tube behind my bouat.
Got a call from my daughter the other day. Seems when she got home from her pre- deployment leave, she found out she wasn't going. The person she was to replace decided to stay for another tour. It would have been nice if this happened while there was still time to re-enroll in school. Daughter will try and go out with the November group. Yes John, she is seeking the deployment. You don't move up if you don't move out. She has always been special to me, and with hard work she will be special to many others as well.