With All My Love

From the clubhouse at the Cliffside Golf Club
Hello my Dear Son,

Hunter is off on another golf match. Even though he led the team, by four strokes in the last match, he is sent off with the third group. The good thing about golf is the fact that it is an individual sport and as long as the coach allows you to compete, you still have the opportunity to finish first. He is playing eighteen holes in today’s match so it will be a long day here. The coaches are not watching as they were the first ones to tee off and are off playing amongst themselves. Hunter is predominately self-taught. (Today's match ended when Hunter finished hole number 11, because of thunderstorms. Hunter finished tied for first on his team not counting his last two holes, which happened to be a bogey and a par, and two of the hardest holes on the course).

I should talk about the adventure of picking him up with a thunderstorm approaching. I was watching the sky, and looking at the weather map on Internet. I could see that the storm was coming towards our area. I talked to the golf course manager and ask what their warning systems were. I know there are places in Texas that warn golfers of lightning well before lightning appears on the course. In such a case a loud siren would sound. The course manager stated they just have the TV and they could use a bull horn to warn golfers on the course. He stated that it was up to the coaches to warn the players. And I pointed out to him that the coaches are off playing golf and not paying any attention to the students. He then said, “That there is a sign the clubhouse stating that a player plays at their own risk if they hear thunder.” Well there had already been a couple of rumbles of thunder. I asked him if I could use a golf cart to go out and pick up some of the boys. He wanted to charge me $10, and I spoke to him about that, after which he handed over the master key and I picked out a golf cart.

It was now beginning to rain, the sky was pitch black, and the golf cart governor kept me from going very fast. I passed one group, told the father of one of the players who was in a golf cart that lightning was coming. He wanted to know what the coaches thought. I drove on as quickly as I could, prepared to tell Hunter that he should get to the clubhouse regardless if everybody else continues to play. The other two boys in his group were ready to leave as well. So I had them all load up in the golf cart and we raced back to the clubhouse. When I got back the clubhouse I could see that the coaches were deciding then they should get the boys off the golf course. Fortunately nobody was hurt. Last year at the same golf course the same thing happened and one of the coaches ran over a boy with a golf cart.

I enjoy the drive with Hunter. I was also thinking about how long I stay at the golf match. Today it will be about a total of eight hours. I usually enjoy sitting in the clubhouse because it is empty, air conditioned, and I can get a lot of work done. Golf takes a long time. I was thinking that, I am grateful that neither you nor your brothers ever played cricket. Can anyone imagine watching your child’s cricket match? An average cricket match takes 6-8 hours a day, over a period of 2-5 days.

We received a wonderful email from your companion’s mother. She has given your mom some tips about mail, a facebook page for the Londrina Mission (which she has to be invited to join), and the address for your companion’s blog. It was also very nice to hear she sent you some cinnamon rolls.
Miller (and all of us were) was so excited to get your pictures. He wants to put them by his bed, but has agreed to let me take them to work and scan them. Before he went to bed he got your pictures and laid them out on our bed. He then lay on his stomach, with his chin on his hands and looked at your pictures. Your mother was very patient as she received the envelope on Friday and waited for Miller to get home from the campout. We did not arrive home until 8:00 pm at night, and she then gave your envelope to Miller to open.

The scout troop had a campout on Friday and Saturday. It also coincided with the Southern Ohio Gold Prospectors of America Association annual open house. It took place in Ohio along the Scioto River near Lucasville. I was told to expect a large number of people since this event was open to the public. However, nobody outside of the club attended except for us. They had a number of events including a target shoot, a bean bag toss into a gold pan, and a metal detector hunt. We came home with a few old coins. I had a 1905 and 1909 U.S. Nickel which I gave to Hunter.

The people were very nice to us, though some of the boys in the scout troop were very rude. I made it a point to go apologize to the people with whom the scouts were rude. I am not scout master, as you know, but I end up being the one in charge. Four boys wanted to swim in the river, with no adult supervision, and at night. Now the river has glass, wires, trash, fallen trees, and giant holes (up to 12 feet deep) where gold prospectors have dredged the river. I saw some of these holes and they are approximately 4 to 5 feet in diameter and then straight down 3 to 12 feet. They are hard to see during the day let alone at night. However, the two other adults let them go down to the river. I instructed the boys, at least, to have a buddy and to stay with that buddy at all times.

At about 10:15 the other adults just went to bed. Those boys are still down at the river. So I walked on down and told them that they needed to come out. This caused much grief for them and for me. They wanted to keep on swimming, but how in the world could they expect it to be acceptable? And I'm sure it would fall to me to explain to a parent why their son drowned on the camp out. Later that night two of the boys had a fight. One of them got a solid punch in the face and then screamed for me to come help.

I should write a book called “Campouts.” I could describe the many adventures that I have seen. I still think perhaps the very worst behavior I have ever seen was that first scout campout in Texas that you and I went on. I'm always glad to go on the camp outs. Had I stayed in coaching I know that I would have missed most if not all of these camp outs. Well in the end we did not find much gold. Hunter worked very hard and still has quarter of a bucket of dirt in the garage to be panned out. Miller ended up buying ($5) a small zip lock bag of dirt that came from California. Sawyer, Cooper, and him have panned about half that little bag and have a lot more gold to show for it then Hunter. However, Hunter did find an Indian artifact - a small stone with a perfectly drilled hole. Miller found a little piece of fossilized coral.
Cooper won the beanbag toss (this contest included all the adults). His prize was a gold nugget valued at $50. The nugget is about the size of a BB, but it is real gold. It came in a small little case and Cooper now has it with his coin collection.

The other highlight came during the “Nugget Shoot.” The “Nugget Shoot” was a contest where each person was given a balloon tied to a string hung from a line drawn between two trees (thirty-six people participated). Each person was allowed to shoot at a balloon, with a BB gun. The person, who had the last balloon not shot, would win $100 gold nugget. Everybody got to shoot the first round, then whoever still had an un-popped balloon got to shoot in the next round, and then so on and so on. There is personal pressure to be able to hold your own with a crowd that values an individual’s shooting ability. I'm proud to say that I hit my target during the first round. However, during the second round, a rather rough looking, sun weathered female dashed my hopes for a gold nugget. When the balloon was shot it either exploded or fizzled. If shot near the top of the balloon the air would slowly escape, however if it was shot in the middle the balloon exploded. My balloon was barely nicked my balloon and as the air escaped, I kind of deflated myself.

The highlight was Miller. He had shot during the first round, with Cooper helping him, and had missed. Yet, his balloon survived and so he got to shoot during the second round. This time he held the gun all by himself and from a standing position he fired. He successfully nailed a balloon. The sound of the exploding balloon was followed by cheers from the crowd for the youngest participant. Miller immediately grew 3 inches with pride in accomplishing his task, and while standing taller gave an enthusiastic high five. I wish I had the camera out for you as he exhibited a huge smile that comes from doing a job well.

One other thing. Hunter and I went to the Columbus Temple last week. I was hoping to take Porter and Cooper as well, however Porter had a cross-country meet he had to be at and Cooper had soccer. So Hunter and I were able to drive (alone) all the way to Columbus. For dinner/lunch we went to Panda Express. They no longer have the panda plate, but the panda paw which is still like the panda plate, however it is shaped like a paw. Overall it was good trip and a joy to be with each other for the six and a half hour drive. I have a couple of other things to write about, but will have to include them in the next letter. We hope you've gotten our letters; we love you and miss you.

Dad