Before I move on from the subject of my second family, I need to clarify our relationship.
The times I spent with my half brothers and sisters were good times. They all accepted me more as a friend than as a brother when we were children, but as we grew, and sought out one another, there emerged true affection, which I will always value.
Ruby had a total of eleven children, one stillborn, one(Virginia) died at five years of age of pneumonia, and one (Cathy) died also at the age of five,of leukemia. The living children are; David, Elaine Keith, Kenny, Maxine,Nancy,Wayne,andJoy.
My mother had five children, one girl lived seven hours, and a little boy died when he was five, of appendicitis. My two sisters and I made a total of sixteen children produced by my father.
I’m not sure how many times I visited their home in the country, maybe a week or two in summer when school was out, while I still lived in the nearby town, but mostly it was a visit to walk in the woods, and later to fish in the lake at the top of the hill.
My father for years had shown me the depression which he would some day convert to a lake, by rerouting the creek, and building a dam. After nearly twenty years the lake became a reality, which eventually would be one of the best stocked catfish lakes in the area. Cathy’s middle name was Lavange, and in her honor, the lake was named, Lavange Lake.It occupies about four acres of the original thirty-five which is the extent of the property.

We shared a large breakfast of fried eggs in various stages of doneness, piled on one large platter, so that each could find that one most to his or her own preference. Also there was ham
and fried potatoes, with a bowl of gravy. More than I was accustomed to for my first meal of the day, but I had no trouble eating my share.
My father had finished eating before we all began, and was leaving for work. As he walked out, I noticed there was nothing said in farewell, as all the children were busy with their food, and even Ruby seemed too occupied to do more than wave, as he shut the
door.
After breakfast,Ruby suggested that we children all go for a stroll in the woods, and enjoy the morning.
David became the guide, and we all walked the short distance to the edge of the treeline, and proceeded to the left, where there was a small creek, cutting it’s way from the higher elevation of the woods, down to the front of the house, into the larger Trego creek.
We followed the creek up the hill, finding small pools of water, and at one point where the ground tabled to a lesser incline, there was a considerable pool maybe ten feet across,
and twenty feet long. The depth was about three feet. At the end was a lovely little waterfall, which was perhaps two feet high. Moving higher up the stream, the water trickled to about a foot across, and in the middle of the bed great rocks appeared.
I remember one formation of four large rocks, two on either side of a flat rock and one standing straight up to the rear. It formed a giant chair. My sister Barb, named it the
“King’s Throne”
The times I spent in these woods at different times in my life, have created some of my fondest memories. I’ve returned there many times as a youth, and as a young man, just to walk and enjoy the peace of nature. I remember lying prone on the forest floor, raking
back the decaying leaves and putting my nose deep within the dead, and soon to be living,new growth, the aroma of life!
Within the woods I found a row of daffodils in line with rotting stumps where at one time had held a fence,and beyond was a chimney standing like a monument to the ruined cabin which had once housed a young couple who had crossed the big Ohio River, from Kentucky,
and who would someday be my grandparents. Not so many springs ago I found the daffodils still there.
The only thing of my father’s I ever claimed as my own, not true ownership, but as one might claim a remembrance, is the forest that I came to love.
My life was about to change, and remembering this time would be my refuge.

In the morning, I was awakened by the bird songs, which I had never heard so clearly,coming through the slatted wall of the shed. There was a window, and muted light was also coming through the openings of the wallboards. I lay awake for a time, eyes still
closed, enjoying the feel of fresh spring air, and the serenade all around.
At last, I slowly opened my eyes to the half light and as my eyes adjusted, I found myself staring into a wide open mouth, with large pointed teeth, below the largest, most frightening eyes which surpassed any thing my most horrible nightmare could have
conjured! The hair around all this was black as coal, and I realized I was looking into the face of a monster bear, whose main intent was to have me for breakfast.
I was frozen, and simply waited for what I knew would be my last breath on earth. As I waited, the light began to increase as the sun rose higher, and bright shafts of light, made their way through the slats and poured through the window, and I was beginning to
make out the form of the bear. Instead of a full body I could see that there was a flat sheet of black hair, and gradually I could see that this was not a live bear, but a huge rug, and as I slowly worked my way out from under, I brushed over a large clawed paw and then onto the floor.
If this had been a joke, or simply a way to keep me warm for the night, I never knew, because I never mentioned it to any one. As I was dressing, I noticed on a shelf on the wall, a much smaller black bear, standing on all fours, in a natural pose, and I wondered if
my father had shot them, and if he had, under what circumstances.