Rockie!

Let me introduce you to Rockie.  Rockie is my mom's pride and joy.  She is a very plump and spoiled squirrel.  She was given to Mom by my step-sister....who, according to legend, found a baby squirrel that had fallen out of its nest.  My mom basically adopts this rodent, gives it a cute name and raises it in her home. Rockie is fed gourmet nuts and fruits.  She even munches on carrots, sweet potatoes and shrimp tails.  Last month, when Mom told me how much it cost to have Rockie treated at the vet, I nearly fainted.  Rockie even got her teeth cleaned!  Well, if there's ever been royalty in the family of squirrels, Rockie is it.  Just look at her.  She exposes her tummy as she nestles in her bed.  It even looks like she's waving at us! If I can come back as another creature, it would be Rockie.

If you're tempted to equate Rockie with the prizefighter, the Italian Stallion, Rocky Balboa, that's okay. They're both kind of scrappy. Rockie even does her morning calisthenics to Eye of the Tiger!

Photos Mother took!

Update: May 23, 2008

As you can tell, Mom's pet squirrel, Rockie, is in dire need of a bra. Of course, if you're more of a naturalist, hiding nature's gifts would be a scandal.

Update: June 8, 2008

Mom's pride and joy, Rockie, went into Squirrel Paradise yesterday. [Would a Taoist squirrel be admitted?!?] Rockie was with us for five years, and was a source of joy and intrigue for the family. Perhaps it's just mere coincidence, but Rockie's "exit" was on the same day as Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton's official exit from the Democratic Primary. Maybe Rockie was aghast that Hillary had to say goodbye. Rockie, being the lady she was, reportedly threw her full weight behind the Junior Senator from New York. Let's just say they left the stage together. Another strange coincidence occurred a few day's ago: an uncle of mine was admitted into the hospital for stroke-like symptoms. It just so happened to be the same day that Senator Barack Obama became the Democratic Presumptive Nominee for President! I will have to talk with Uncle Watty to find out if there was any correlation. Regardless, I am happy to report that both Uncle Watty and Senator Obama are now resting comfortably at their homes.

After Rockie, Mother rescued, raised for a bit, then released these brother and sister squirrels on her Shorterville, AL land.

click here to discover a bond between a Russian taxi and his squirrel

and my maternal grandmother loved this song!

Kade's sister Nan with a squirrel their family rescued and kept as a pet in Bangkok - circa early '80s.

Pops, Wife, Moi

This photo is significant because it was the first time Dad met Kade. We actually pulled a monumental surprise on Dad by coming home from Thailand and arriving in Headland on Christmas Day. My brother Mark helped me pull it off. Dad was shocked!  In fact, he cried.

That afternoon, Dad wanted to find some old family pictures to show Kade.

Up a Bit..Go Left...Down a Tad...Right there.

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I love having my back scratched. When I was young, before I would climb out of bed to get ready for school, my mom would scratch my back for a few minutes. It would make me want to doze back off to sleep. Nowadays, in the mornings, when I'm drinking coffee in front of the PC, my dear wife will often scratch my back. I gotta just take my whole shirt off! Boy, it feels good!

Merry Christmas! Reason's Greetings!

I got an e-mail message from my pops yesterday and he said, "Don't forget that JESUS is the reason for the season." Of course, if you were raised in my region of the world, in my section of the USA and in my town in Southeast Alabama, you would know that it is an impossibility to forget. We're fundamentalists. By design, we're not supposed to forget.

This Christmas season I want to grab hold of something that can empower us all. When you think of baby Jesus, think of this: Peace on earth, good will toward men. How profound is that? Don't look at me! I didn't come up with that line! Let us take this slogan and make it something valued throughout the year. Take our families, for instance. Do we even know our family members? Really know them? It's easy to pretend we know. It's easy to wear masks. Easy, yes, but self-destructive and, let's face it, very phony. My challenge to parents, including my own, would be this: take your kids out, one-on-one, and ask them, without judgment and condemnation, to share something authentic and real about themselves. Let's call it the "One Parent, One Child" campaign. And, in the process of listening, if you feel angry or if you get defensive, learn to relax and take it easy. Show peace and good will. That's the best Christmas gift!

"Look! A Buzzard!"

The buzzard often sends shivers up people's spines because it signals that "death is the air." In reality, death is on the ground and these raptors are nature's garbage disposals. When I was riding around at the farm with Dad, on occasion I could see buzzards circling in the sky, waiting for their moment to swoop down and gobble up a carcass. The whole spectacle fascinated me. How could these birds zero in on death from such a great distance? Was it their eyesight? Was it their sense of smell?

In high school, the buzzard played a different role. This loathed bird provided a perfect ruse in French class. "Mrs. Baxter, look! A buzzard!" This exclamation was made all the more certain by employing appropriate hand gestures and facial contortions. There would be this frantic pointing towards the window and up to the sky. There would also be a heightened intensity of the voice. Inevitably, Zona would fall for the ruse, looking intently out the window for the circling buzzard. While the ruse was in play, answers to the tests were circulated throughout the room. When scores came in, it made the difference between a C and a B - B for Buzzard, that is.

Major

This is Major Watt Espy, Sr..  He's my paternal grandfather. This is where I get my first name. Granddad Major died in 1980, leaving a tremendous legacy. I'm guessing, but I'd say that in this photo he looks like he's in his late fifties or early sixties. What's striking about this pose is that he has remarkable posture. Perhaps he's standing tall because he's very proud. He had a family he adored and a business acumen that set a standard in his day.

That Red Nose

Since Christmas is around the corner, I must give tribute to that red-nosed reindeer, Rudolph. I used to love to watch the Rudolph TV special that used to come on over the holidays. In fact, I watched it this year! I guess the moral of the Rudolph story is that no matter how different you feel and how little you fit in, when the time is right, you might be chosen to do something extraordinary.

Thrilled

Headland Middle School Auditorium

Headland, Alabama

Since it's the 25th Anniversary of the release of the biggest selling album in history, I might as well tell you how I became a fan of Michael Jackson.  In middle school, I was walking from the 6th-grade building to the main building.  The whole class was on the way to lunch.  A classmate, Neal Hardy, pulled out a Michael Jackson Thriller cassette tape and started telling me about how good the album was.  I was intrigued.  Sometime after that, I purchased my own Thriller tape.  I listened to it over and over on a battery-powered music box that I would carry around with me.  I remember riding in the back of a pickup to and from the Headland Country Club one summer, all the while playing Billie Jean, Wanna Be Startin' Something and Beat It.  I was happy!  In the eighties, Michael Jackson was the thing.  My cousin Jeff and I actually did a rendition of a Jackson song for a school assembly - see image above.  The song was "Torture" but the delivery was surely not.  We did the Jacksons justice!

This is where I bought two pairs of parachute pants: black and almost a dark purple.  My sister took me down there.  Dothan, Alabama.

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Check out this guy's performance!

Hair Mysteries

As I age gracefully, one thing becomes increasingly clear: more hair emerges down below than up top. I make the most of it!

Google Earth, Google Head - January 2008

Kade took this photo while I was engaging in my morning prayers (or perhaps readying myself for my daily nap).  This might as well have been a high-zoom satellite image of downtown Birmingham - all my vulnerabilities are exposed.  If you can enlarge this photo, you can see an picture on the wall of my grandfather, Major. Incidentally, for those who have been keeping up, that's a shot of him getting set to go on his journey to Russia.  Back to the point..... I inherited my shaggy head of hair from Major.  Of course, it didn't help that his wife's clan didn't have a single male with hair at the time they hit thirty.  My odds of overcoming this genetic catastrophe were virtually nil.  My only remedy has been to go the way of Bruce Willis and Michael Jordan: shave everything and hope that the distraction works!  Featured on the right, at the base of the window, is an encased tarantula.  The tragedy is that the eight-legged spider has more hair on its back and legs than I do my head.  Well, on the plus side, at least I'm alive.  Perhaps my prayers are working?!?

Poached Egg on Toast

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On days when I would spend the night at my grandmother's house, I could always count on this being my breakfast the following morning. Dot had a knack for knowing what we'd want. She could make a mean poached egg. It sounds so simple, and maybe it is. However, the poached egg on toast remains a food I lovingly associate with my late-grandmother. She got a lot of pleasure out of preparing this breakfast for her grandchildren. In retrospect, something tells me that she delighted in making this for my grandfather, Victor, who many years earlier had passed away. I think that Dot felt good about making poached eggs on toast because it enabled her to think of Victor. Dot's routine with us was to poach the egg in a special piece of poaching cookware. After toasting some bread, she would place the hot poached egg on the toast and lay it before us. As if on cue, and as if knowing the answer already, she would ask, "Do you want me to cut the egg for you?" She would then take a small knife and cut the egg and toast into four parts, making it easy to eat. How delicious!

In a 1980s interview I did with Dot, she described her morning routine:

5 AM wake up, get the paper, make my coffee and some toast
6 AM walk 2 1/2 miles (w/ Stacia)

Pulling a Machi on Air Jordan

The year was 1994. I had graduated from Samford, been on my second Campus Outreach Beach Project and was now back in Birmingham, AL working for AmSouth Investment Services. Lo and behold, the already legendary Michael Jordan, who shocked the world by retiring from the Chicago Bulls, was debuting for the Birmingham Barons minor league baseball team. As you can imagine, the city of Birmingham was all aglow. God was coming to reside in my town! Naturally, I got caught up in the daily rumors of what Jordan was doing in the city. I was starstruck.

I saw His Greatness three times: once at a golf charity event and twice at the ballpark. By far the most memorable moment was one evening when my friend, Vince Noblitt, and I went to a Barons game. We had very good seats, just a few rows behind the home dugout. MJ was finishing up his pregame warmup and was walking back to the dugout, his head down, an obvious attempt to focus on the game and ignore the loud screams of kids who were clamoring for an autograph. As Jordan neared the dugout, I raised my hands to my mouth in order to project my voice, and hollered, in a controlled way, like an old friend, "Michael!" Suddenly, the legend himself lifted his head and looked right at me, surely thinking he would see someone he knew. When he made eye contact, I smiled and gave a thumbs up. In return, he grinned. I had pulled a Machiavelli on the greatest player to ever play basketball and arguably the most supreme sports star ever in our land. Shortly after it happened, Vince looked at me and said with a laugh, "We can go home now." Of course, we didn't. We stayed put and watched Michael Jordan attempt to play baseball.

Lake Espy

above images are from the Sam Vann, Jr. family slides

Jan 1942

March 1942

July 1942

August 1948

March 1950

April 1950

June 1950

July 1951

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August 1952

August 1953

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July 1967

Grandmother Edith's sketch of the new Lake Espy cabin that was built after fire destroyed the original.

   

  

Lake Espy is located just outside my hometown of Headland, Alabama.  As a child I remember fishing with the family and occasionally some friends. Sometimes we would bring in several strings of beautiful bass and bream. The fish were deep-fried and served with hush puppies and french fries. Naturally, being in the South, sweet tea was always available. The cabin itself was built in 1980, and was the "replacement cabin" for the one that was destroyed by a fire some years earlier. To this day Lake Espy plays an integral part in the family and community. This weekend will be the Espy Cousins Christmas Party. And, during the course of the year, the cabin is the setting for Thanksgiving gatherings, church functions, birthday parties, sleepovers, etc. I remember even my pee wee football team having an end-of-year bash at Lake Espy. If only the cabin had some updated kitchen appliances, perhaps even my wife could use it for one of her dynamic Thai cooking classes. 

To see a Google Earth image of Lake Espy, click the Lake Espy Fishing link, and then click on the appropriate link to enlarge the map. Once that's done, be sure to use the arrows to zoom in. Lake Espy Fishing - Alabama Reservoir near Headland | Hook and Bullet

Dale Ezzell, Major Espy, Bill Vann - Fall 1964, Headland, Alabama

Not certain, but think that pix of Daddy, Dale and Bill was taken outside the old fishpond cabin, likely Thanksgiving afternoon.  The Peanut Bowl was on Thanksgiving night in Dothan and we really dressed up to go; we'd have Thanksgiving, then change into our ball clothes and head off to games, whether we were playing or not; things/times have surely changed.  We'd wear Sunday clothes, coats, "high heel shoes" et al.  I couldn't get in a stadium now in heels, in fact seldom wear them to church.   - Aunt Marilyn

That’s a good explanation.  After studying it more, I’m certain it’s Lake Espy.  I think I recognize the precise location the photo was obtained. If so, this must have been the fall of 1964.  In the fall of 1965, we (the HHS Rams) played in the Peanut Bowl and I am not sure I would have been available for the photo at this time. Good research!!!     - Bill Vann

a video I filmed in 2002

1982

1984 

Uncle Watty and cousin Beverly, Lake Espy - circa mid-'80s

w/ my siblings at an Espy Cousins Xmas party at Lake Espy- circa late '90s

2002

Thanks to cousin Dale Ezzell for the following project.  It's my understanding it was his idea!

Cousin Sid Brannon recites Little Orphant Annie for family out at Lake Espy.

As the camera pans the room, you will spot various family members.  I am pretty certain this is the annual Vann family Thanksgiving at Lake Espy.  I certainly see my dad in his Auburn vest jacket.  Thanks to cousin Emily for making this video.

2016 fresh paint job