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Wade Feltner
When Gossip Rears Its Ugly Head 3-25-08
You lead an inactive life, and are bored, because you have little or no interest; therefore, you choose to do nothing.  You have a job that you prize, because it is easy, but offer no challenge, and as a way to pass the time away you resort to idle chatter. What harm is there in a little conversation, you might ask yourself, after all, you are just trying to make it through the day.  
By now you are looking forward to these gatherings around the water cooler, or coffee pot, just to discuss the latest events at work and around town, or even in your own family.  What's the harm in a little talk among friends, even if you do slip in an occasional white-lie, just to feel included, after all it is just among friends. 
As time goes by, and you become more acquainted, you begin to look forward to these little get-togethers. Due to this common interest, which has evolved, as you leave from work, you inform each of your friends, individually and separately, that you have something to tell them. You whisper, “I don’t want others to hear; I will call you later on tonight.” 
Guess what? As soon as you and your close confidante hang-up the phone, you can rest assuredly, they will call others and after swearing them to secrecy will share this tidbit of information, which you had thought was spoken in confidence. After all, they too are real good friends; so what's the harm in passing on a little shared secret?
Upon arriving at work the following day, even though you had spoken in confidence, guess what you might hear . . . That’s right! The talk around the water cooler sounds vaguely familiar, but with a slightly different twist from the original conversation.   You think, oh well, at least it is still among friends, and what is said behind another’s back they want know, therefore, what they don't know want hurt them. Don’t count on it! 
As you and your co-workers pass the unsuspecting victim of gossip, on the streets, she seems a little aloof. Even though you can't be sure that she knows what was said, you aren’t sure that she doesn’t either, after all, she is acting mighty strange today.
The victim of the gossip may not have known but, instead, misinterpreted your sheepishness and reacted in a way that has bewildered you.
Now that your life has new-found-meaning you can hardly wait for work-time to arrive.  “Humm! Maybe, I'll just slide in to work a little early today, and spend a little extra time in the break-room, just to catch-up on all of the latest.” The water cooler has, all of a sudden, become the highlight of your life.
As things become more and more interesting, in the break-room, you begin to let your duties slide; consequently, your work begins to suffer and then promotions and other opportunities pass you by. People begin to shun you because you have become known as a busy-body and a know-it-all and they are apprehensive about being in your presence, for fear that they too might be labeled a gossiper.
You try even harder to be included, by gossiping even more, and then the occasional lie becomes more often. You rationalize, what one doesn’t know won’t hurt them, as you lie even more.
As you are feeling rejected, and become more and more shunned, you try even harder. You begin to gossiping about your friends, and co-workers, and resort to out-and-out lying.
You don’t realize it but you have now become the town gossiper and only deceive yourself. In the end you will be the only one who will believe the lies which has become so easy to slip off of your tongue.

Gooch or Grinch 2-29-08
It seems that state Reparative Jim Gooch, D-Providence, chairman of the House Natural Resource Committee, is in the news more often than he cares to be, and is making other fools look good in comparison. Just how did the Fox get in charge of the Hen House anyway?
He recently held a committee hearing on climate change, and invited only a bunch of skeptics, in an attempt to refute global warming. When ask by the press why he invited no scientist, Gooch said, “We are limited, here in Kentucky, to what we can do.” OPEN MOUTH, INSERT FOOT! Obviously, they are limited under the rock from whence he crawled out from under.
Gooch is only showing his stupidity (and is not helping the coal industry’s case) with his attempt to defend mountaintop removal; which he is not in the business of doing. However, his company does make strip-mining equipment for the coal industry.
He also claims that he loves trees, but is not necessarily a tree hugger, but a tree lover nonetheless. Such stupidity coming from the mouth of a fool. Since when can one scarf off the top of a mountain and not destroy all of the trees.
His next display of stupidity was the introduction of HB 207, in the House of Representatives. This bill would authorize vanity plates to be made and sold to Kentucky motorist, with the words “In God We Trust” embossed on them. Who is he trying to fool with this bill, the devil?
Gooch, calling himself a supporter of the free press, is introducing a bill to classify editorial writers and cartoonist as lobbyist, thereby banning them from the House and Senate floor as well. He claims that the press hurt politicians’ credibility, and makes them look corrupt and stupid. Gooch is doing a good job on his own, without any help from the press.
I leave you with a famous quote by Abraham Lincoln: “Better to remain silent and appear a fool than to open one’s mouth and remove all doubt.”

Bigger and Better than Ever
The 45th Annual Mary Breckenridge Festival was themed: “Leslie County‘s Future: Brighter than Ever” and it was bigger and better than ever. If you missed it, you missed a real good time.
There is something about being “Down on Main Street” which adds a special flavor to a festival. Perhaps it is the getting to “h.a.v.e  f.u.n” in the middle of the street, a normally forbidding place. Or, perhaps, it is that the streets are teeming with people, each of them having their own distinctive personalities. Or, could it be the “Blooming Onions” which make a festival, “A Festival”?
Leading up to the big event a picnic –– and a grand one it was –– was provided to the public by the Mary Breckenridge Hospital, which was their way of saying “Thanks” to the community in which they serve.
This year’s festival was, especially, special and the likes of it may never come our way again: Mayor Lonnie Hendrix, and his entourage, unveiled, in an emotional ceremony, a special water fountain constructed on a designated spot of ground, which is to be forever memorialized as Veterans Square.
This, most hallowed, place is dedicated to the memory of “Our Fallen Americans” who gave their life so that we may take to the streets to celebrate, such an occasion as this. Their names are, there-up-on, inscribed in stone and are forever etched on our hearts to honor all Veterans, of all times; including the walking wounded amongst us: our Disabled American Veterans.
Leading off the list of those that we appreciate for making this years festival a big success is:
The Mary Breckenridge Festival Committee: We appreciate your dedicated service; without you there would be no festival.
We “Thank-You” Hyden City Administration and Commissioners, and of course the City of Hyden Parks Board too, for a job well done.
Thanks-You, Leslie County Fiscal Court, for your always-dependable support for this event and for what you do for our county.
A special “Thanks” is in order for the Leslie County Extension Service, and its great staff, for its promotion and support of our festival.
And what would a festival be without a parade? Many “Thanks” to all who participated. 
To our local produce growers, and those who preserved and exhibited them, we “Thank-You”
As with any successful festival there were many crafters, artisans, and other tent exhibiters, who displayed their finest. You were noticed and deserve a big “Thank-You” too.
To all vendors, local or other-wise, you helped make our festival a success and we welcome you back, again, next year.
In keeping with the spirituality of “The Mountain People“, we recognize Daniel Boone Habitat for Humanity for their part in the festival and for the Christian work that they do in our community.
A special “Thanks” to Hyden Citizens Bank for their community mindedness and their continued support of this annual event.
The Grand Finale was provided by, compliments of TDS Telecom; a fireworks-display, the likes that we have never seen before. Really!!!
Finally, yet importantly, a humble “Thank-You” goes to you who worked, tirelessly, behind the scenes and, unselfishly, gave up your time in the limelight.

Oops!
In a previous article, I had endorsed Ernie Fletcher to be our next governor: an endorsement, which, most assuredly, would have given him a landslide victory to return as governor for another four years of waffling.
I had reassured my readers, and the voters of The Great State of Kentucky that Fletcher would not do anymore dumb grandiose things. Evidently, he didn’t heed my advice. I suppose that Sour Grapes Greg Stumbo has not given Governor Fletcher enough of a trouncing during the past four year, to mellow him out for the task of being governor for another term.
I had reasoned that Ernie Fletcher being a doctor, a preacher, and a croo… ah-um, politician, a man of many different hats, would certainly be a fine governor. However, I have since had to reconsider.
I had previously advised the governor, through my column, –– knowing that he is a faithful reader –– to not to pursue the idea of coal-gasification, but to use kudzu-gasification instead. However, he and the part-timers down in Frankfort proceeded with their dumb idea anyway, just as one would expect them too.
On a more serious note though: My gut feeling tells me that Fletcher is still the “Lesser of Two Evils.” and if he should win, I hope that I don’t hafta’ eat a steady diet of crow, for the next four years. 
In closing, I leave you with this bit of humor: Once upon a time, a man and his wife were curious as to what their young son was going to be when he grew up. Therefore, as a test, they placed a Five Dollar Bill, a Shot of Whiskey and a Bible on his nightstand.
If he took the five-dollar bill, it meant that he was going to be a financial whiz. If he drank the whiskey, it meant that he might become a drunk. If he should read from the Bible, it meant that he was going to be a preacher. 
As the young man was going to bed for the night they observed him through the door-key-hole. He first picked-up the five-dollar bill and put it in his wallet, next he downed the shot of whisky, and then he sat on the side of the bed and began to read from the Bible. His father, taken aback, said, “Son-Of-A-Gun, he’s going to be a politician!”

Bouncer and Little Rabbit
Bouncer is a mighty fine rabbit dog, for such a young pup.  Mamma is getting too old to hunt and will have to depend on her young offspring to provide for her in her old age.
Every day, just about sunrise, this young rabbit sneaks into the yard to try and steal some of Bouncer’s food and to tease him a little bit, before bounding back to the safety of the brier patch. Cotton Tail had better be mighty careful, because she will make a delicious meal.  
One morning, while drinking coffee and looking out my kitchen window, here comes Little Rabbit toward the food pan once again. Upon spying the young rabbit Bouncer jumped off of that porch like a streak of lightning, and was across the yard in a flash. He chased Little Rabbit clean out of the yard, and back into the brier patch.  If Little Rabbit continues in her daring ways, eventually she is going to loose a tuft of her fur, for sure.
The very next morning, about day break, just like an alarm clock going off, here comes Little Rabbit again, trying to get into Bouncer’s food pan. If she continues to press her luck she is going to be minus her cotton tail and maybe loose her “Lucky Rabbits’ Foot” too. 
About that time Mamma let out a yelp, to awaken her young pup and, to alert him that Cotton Tail is, once again, in his food pan. Bouncer, still half asleep, jumped off of that porch and was half-way across the yard before he even had time to open his eyes. Little Rabbit took off running, as if her life depended on it, and it did, but once again she had reached the safety of the brier patch.
The next time Bouncer would be ready; she would be lying in wait, to ambush Little Rabbit, if she ventured into the yard again.
As the young rabbit cautiously approached the food pan, Bouncer jumped up into the air and pounced on her with all four feet. Thinking that at last he had her he took one look beneath his belly, and all that he could see was his own shadow, because Little Rabbit was already safely back in the brier patch.
Now I don’t know how much longer this story can continue because, sooner or later, Bouncer is going to catch Little Rabbit, even if he has to go into the brier patch after her or she decides it is safer to head for a new territory.
This is a true story, and if you don’t believe it is so, just asks Bouncer if he can ever get out of that brier patch.

Was Nine-Eleven Just A Phase
Now that “Nine-Eleven has long since passed, and the Memorial Day Remembrance Ceremonies are barley past, where were all of the many patriot which, not so long ago, flooded the streets across America? Where were those which, in the aftermath of Nine-Eleven, were waving flags and creaming; WHERE’S MY GUN!!! WHERE”S MY GUN!!!! I’LL KILL THE BASTARDS!!! I’LL KILL THE BASTARDS!!! QUICK, SOMBODY HELP ME FIND MY GUN!!! Where are you town criers at now or “Was Nine-Eleven Just A Phase?”
Patriots and free-people, now that you feel safe again, where are your flags; are they now cast into an alley, which some were known to have been?
Where have all of the patriots now disappeared to? Have they turned-tail and ran or have they used this day for their own self-interest. Have we forgotten that this day was set aside to honor those which have touched our lives in a special way? Have we also forgotten those which have gone on before us; those which fought and died in our place, so that we may live in a free country.
Have our free citizens used this special day to go to Wal-Mart, where the aisles are teeming with patriots? Has Wal-Mart now become our country, and if so, have we got our priorties wrong? Have others gone to the lake for a day of leisure and has this lake now become our “Sea to Shining Sea?”
Now that the elections are over where were all of the patriots which were present this time last year and were posturing to be elected to public office? Are they now kicked back, drinking a cold beer, and are now watching the “All America Game” of baseball on   television?
Does, “Bring Me Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Huddled Masses Yearning To Breathe Free,” not mean the same thing anymore?  Do we not yearn to remain free because we are tired and feeling poorly, therefore we will just stay at home, and huddle around the television, to catch the Memorial Day ceremonies.
Veterans of Foreign Wars and our Disabled American Veterans, across the lands of this free country, preformed the Memorial Day ceremonies, as they gazed toward the almost empty streets, looking for some sign of honor and recognition? Have We No Shame???

Hello, Leslie County
If you were not at the Mary Breckenridge Festival this year, you missed a good time.
Day one, the weather was unexpectedly cool and low turn out is expected for this reason; however the weather was great for the remaining hours of the festival. So next year don’t let a little cool weather stop your festive spirit; after all it is October.
Our artisan tents, food venders and various other booths were down in attendance this year; WHAT, no blooming onions!!! A successful festival needs all of you. 
Everyone, please, come back next year; a festival is about more than just making and spending money; it is about having fun and socializing with people. Just think, you may have missed an opportunity to meet an old friend once again, one that you hadn’t seen in years or to have made a new one. So where were all of you absentees at this year; not at Wal-Marts I hope?
We are thankful that it did not rain on “OUR PARADE” and that God smiled on us with beautiful sunshine and that it was the best parade ever. There were lots of people standing on the streets of Hyden; so keep it up Leslie County.
Remember, that it is our festival and that it is good clean fun right here at home, in good old Leslie County. We need this festival in our town and the Mary Breckenridge Festival needs you; so, come one, come all and support our local events. Lets have a bigger turn-out next year; what is a festival without people?

A Pack of Lies
My pa was short, stocky and wouldn’t harm a flea, but to hear him tell it, he had out wrestled every bear from here to Tennessee.  Now most folk just said, it was all “A Pack of Lies”.  Oooh, but us young’uns believed him alright, as we sat there listening wide eyed, with the hair standing straight up on top of our heads.
Pa would tell us young’uns that he was a reincarnated Daniel Boone, and he had been in more Indian fights than General George Cutter and Davy Crockett both combined.
Pa would take us young’uns fishing and we would build us a big camp fire on the river bank, fish all night, and listen to Pa tell bear tales, and Indian stories.  I remember to this very day, that Pa told of how he fished with one hand and wrestled a bear with the other one, both at the same time.  He told us how he caught the biggest fish in the river, and how lucky the big bear was that he got away.  Yeah the story is true, and if you don’t believe me, just ask my pa and he will tell you the same thing.
Pa could tell more Indian stories than there were Indians around these parts.  He said they wouldn’t come around our campfire, because he had his own personal treaty with them.  He would take Kentucky, and they would take Tennessee.  About that time Pa caught this big fish, he let out a blood curdling scream and, I knowed I could hear them Indians running, as they crossed the river without even getting their feet wet, running just as fast as they could go, on their way back to Tennessee.  I tell you the truth, that was the biggest fish I ever did see, it was all that I could do to just cram it into my syrup bucket.
Now I never did know what them green eyes was in the dark.  Pa said they was bears, I know our Pa wouldn’t lie to us young’uns.
You may think that this is a made-up story, but I swear that it’s the truth.  Ma still has the fish between the pages of her Bible, to prove that every word of it is the truth.


Can Love Pay the Bills
            A lot of our senior citizens are celebrating their 80th birthdays and their wedding anniversaries.  Their love is much stronger than their bodies which are simply falling apart around their smiles.  They cannot afford to live in an assisted living community because most of their retirement money goes into the pockets of insurance companies and the doctors who attempt to heal their bodies.                                                                                Some of them have moved in with their children.  They are now expected to pay for prescriptions, medical bills, and on top of that a 60 percent to 70 percent higher heating bill.   Iam here to speak about love and family in America today.  As a 70 year old father of two children, a Christian and a retired laborer, my goal in live is simple; I want to celebrate 80 or 90 years with my children and hopefully their children.  I believe it’s time to look past the distraction of same sex marriage (which doesn’t affect my retirement wages) past the distraction of gun control (which doesn’t affect my healthcare costs) and past the distraction of abortion (which doesn’t affect my heating bill). I learned moral values in my home and church, and I don’t need to vote on them.  I taught them to my children when they were growing up.                                      
   As an American citizen, we have signed an invisible social contract with the protection for U.S. Government to pay taxes for safety, for our own welfare. So let us talk like neighbors about why minimum wage doesn’t go up, let petroleum prices for fuel and heat go up, and oil companies declare record profits again and again. My pastor told me as a child to go to school, work hard and trust God and everything would be aright.  I would have a chance at “the American Dream.”  My parents said the same thing.                                             Last summer was hot in Kentucky when a lot of senior citizens celebrated their birthdays and their anniversaries.  This winter will he be cold and with the obscene rise in heating fuel, they are afraid their finances might out give out before their bodies do.              But never their smiles.  Never their love.

If There is No God  by Wade Feltner                                                                                                                
  While traveling through Atlanta one cold rainy morning, the traffic was bumper to bumper.  One could only estimate the number of cars in miles or acres.  I could only pray to God to safely see me through/                             If there is no God, like some would have us believe, and things are to continue on the same for all times to come, then what does the future hold for the earth?  What are we to do when the earth becomes one big road full or cars, not mention the millions of houses that are being built each year.                                                                Where will we find room to grow our crops?  Those chicken wings that we love so much, where will we get them, since eventually there will be no room for chickens?  I suppose the pharmaceutical companies could develop a pill to replace the need for food, after all we have a pill for everything else, one more can’t hurt.                    Now back to the billions of cars and that big road.  When we run out of room for houses, I suppose we could live in our cars, but where will we find room for the manufacturing plants that are necessary to build all those cars.  I suppose, some scientist, evolutionist, and those that would have us believe that there is no God, would lead us to believe that we could live in cyberspace.  Where is cyberspace anyway?                                     If there is no God, what are we to do?  God created the earth perfect, and it was beautiful.  Let’s face it; we messed it up.  Who is going to rescue us from this tangled mess that we are in?  I choose the one that hung the moon; I choose God.


The Black Box                                                                                                          By Wade Feltner                                                                                                                                                                                              &nb sp;                                                                          While traveling north into the beautiful mountains of Eastern Kentucky my wife and I came into this quaint little town that reminded us of our hometown.  The people were so nice and friendly.  We decided to stop and stay a couple days.                                    While driving around Sunday morning, looking for a place to have breakfast, we came upon this nice looking little church nestled back into the trees.  We decided that we would stop and worship with them.  The name on the church indicated that the people were Penecostal in church practice, which was all right with us, us being Southern Baptist.  As it turned out us being Baptist was all right with them.                                                       We chose a seat directly in front of the podium.  As the preacher preached a beautiful sermon, my eyes kept wandering to this black box.  Curious as I was, I didn’t ask, but was soon to find out what that black box was for.  As the services were coming to a close, everyone stood up and began to sing and started marching, single file, around the sanctuary and across the front of the church.  Passing by this black box, they dropped money into it.                                                                                                                                             This to us was an unfamiliar practice, none the less this was how they took up their offering.  We, being visitors, stood up and did as everyone else.  Now taking up an offering is biblical, and necessary for the church to pay their bills, and to have money for its outreach programs.                                                                                            Looking into my wallet, the smallest bill that I had was one lonely, ragged Baptist dollar bill, and a Bahamas twenty.  Not wanting to appear cheap, I would save the old ragged dollar for my church, for when we get back home.  I would drop the crisp new twenty into the black box and retrieve my change.                                    I dropped the twenty into that black box and proceeded to put my hand down into the box to get my change.  I heard a faint, rattle, rattle, rattle.  Pulling my hand back and peering down into the black box, it was pitch black down in there.  As I proceeded for a second time to put my hand into the box, again I heard this unfamiliar rattle, rattle, rattle.  I thought to myself, “Nah, couldn’t be.”  A third time I proceeded to put my hand down into the black box, and a definite rattle, rattle, rattle came out of the box.  Straightening up, I thought again to myself.  “Nah, couldn’t be.”  A fourth time I proceeded to put my hand down in the box and the man standing behind me cleared his throat, “nuh—uh!”  Straightening my back I thought “Yep, must be.”                                        As we took our seats, I leaned over and whispered into my wife’s ear, “I think that we had better get outta here.”

Wooly Worm, Famous Cowboy Horse    By Wade Feltner                                                                                   A Tall Tale.     You may not have realized that Wooly Worm is a cowboy horse, and that he is famous.  If he is not a horse, why-else would he have a black cowboy saddle on his back?                                               How do I know that the black saddle on Wooly Worm’s back is a cowboy saddle, you ask?  Famous cowboys had  black cowboy saddles on their horses, just like the one on Wooly Worm’s back.  The Lone Ranger is famous, his horse Silver is also famous, and Silver had a black cowboy saddle on his back.                                 Most famous cowboys named their horses catchy names, so that they too, would become famous, others even gave their saddles names.  Some cowboys’ saddles are famous and are on display in museums.                                      You may have even seen a famous saddle, as recently as this past summer.  If you have ever picked corn in your family’s garden, you may have encountered “Packsaddle.”  He is a well-known, corn-eating worm, and is famous for his sting. Most smart, famous cowboys, would saddle up their famous horses with their well-known black cowboy saddles and head south for the winter, not unlike “Wooly Worm, Famous Cowboy Horse” with his invisible rider, would do in the fall.   We have now established that Wooly Worm is a cowboy horse, and that he is famous, he has a black cowboy saddle on his back, and he has headed south for the winter, with an invisible rider on his back.  Oooh, you don’t believe that Wooly Worm has an invisible, famous cowboy riding on his back?  If he is invisible, and you can’t see him, then how do you know that Wooly Worm, Famous Cowboy Horse, does not have a cowboy riding on his back?  You may believe that this story is not possible, but in the world of the wooly worm, with a pencil, and a sheet of paper, anything is possible.

Big Fat Hen by Wade Feltner
Once upon a time there was a “Big Fat Hen”, that was too fat to fit into the pot.  I pondered to myself, “What to do, what to do, why not get a bigger pot?” I thought.  Ah-----ha, that just what I’ll do.  Big Fat Hen, I’ve got you now, but Big Fat Hen was smarter than I thought, she had no intentions of being the chicken in my next dumplings.  As I attempted to stuff her into the pot she flared her feathers in defiance, so that still she would not fit into this bigger pot.   As I pondered once more, “What to do, what to do? I know what I will do.  I will get an even bigger pot than this one.”  Which is just what I did.  Now Big Fat Hen, I’ve got your number this time for sure, so I thought.  Big Fat Hen gets up too early in the morning to be out-smarted by me, she wasn’t going to stand still for no cookin’.  As I attempted once more to stuff her into this bigger pot, once again she flared her feathers in defiance, so that still she would not fit into this even bigger pot.  As I scratched my head and ponder my next move, knowing darn well that this was the biggest pot I had.  Bingo!  A light bulb went on inside my head, ah---ha, a “washtub” should do the trick.  But Big Fat Hen was smarter than your average chicken, she wasn’t going to stand still for no cookin’ this time either.  “Come with me Big Fat Hen I’m going to get a washtub so that I can cook ye.”  But Big Fat Hen was smarter than your average chicken, she wasn’t going to stand still for no cookin’ this time either.  After building an outside fire and placing the tub on it, I proceeded to fill it with water.  As the water began to boil I turned to Big Fat Hen and spoke authoritatively, “Come here Big Fat Hen, your goose is cooked this time for sure,” but Big Fat Hen has a trick up her sleeve that I don’t know about, not yet anyway.  “Oooh, Mr. Author, that water is so co—ld, I’ll free—ze to death,” she said.  As I turned to add wood to the fire, I muttered to myself, “ A talking chicken, I’m going to cook ye anyway. Come here talking chicken, I’m going to cook ye for sure this time.”  “But Mr Author, that water is still too co—ld.  I’d rather be boi—led alive than to free—ze to death in that co—ld, co—ld water,” she said with a shudder.  As I turned once again to add more wood to the fire I felt this sharpbeak of reality peck my behind.  “Ouch!” I said as I plunged head first into the tub of boi—ling  “Psst, gugle, gurgle, psst, psseee.”

Devil Jump Rock by Wade Feltner
High upon the side of the mountain, above town, is a huge cliff known as “Devil Jump Rock.”  Nobody knows exactly how it got its name but legend’s abound.  One legend has it that the Devil was trying to escape from the wrath of God and jumped off of this big cliff into a bottomless pit, called the abyss, and was never heard from again.  I’m not so certain that the Devil was never heard from again because he seems to be hanging around somebody somewhere even to this very day.  From that day forth the big rock was known as Devil Jump rock.  The legend goes on to say, that on a still, hot, summer night, you can climb on top of Devil Jump Rock and hear from down below the Devil and the preacher dividing up the souls, “Two for me, one for you, two for me, one for you.”  Now the old Devil must be smarter than the preacher or at least he is a better hand to count.  Some folks say that it is just a legend, and some swear that it’s the truth and others don’t say one or the other, they just stay away from Devil Jump Rock, just in case it is true.  You can believe that its just a legend if you want to and go climb on top of that big rock and see for yourself, but if you have anything to hide, I suggest you stay right down here… just in case, because the Devil seems to be out-counting the preacher two to one.  It makes you wonder what he’s doing down there with the Devil in the first place.  Now me, being one not willing to take a chance, never did climb on top of that big rock just to hear from down below the Devil and the preacher dividing up souls.  Maybe I had something to hide and maybe I didn’t, but if I did I was going to keep it to myself.  I didn’t want to be down there with the Devil and the preacher and have either one of them get my soul.  The legend alone was enough to make the blood in my veins run ice cold.  So if it is just a legend, like some folks say, then how do you explain the glow in the night at the base of the cliff that never seems to go out.

God’s Creation by Wade Feltner
Why else, would God have created something so beautiful as the tree covered mountains, if he did not intend to live in them himself?  I haven’t seen very much evidence of God living in his creation, as of late.  Could it be that the devil is on the loose and is encouraging those that do his evil bidding to destroy God’s creation bit by bit?  Every mountain top removal is like a scar on the face of a beautiful woman.  Every manmade roadway is like a wrinkle on the face of an old man.  Every mountain barren of its trees is like a waste land.  Is that what God intended for man to do to his creation or did God intend for man to walk upon the earth leaving no more than a foot path and to live off of the land, drink from its crystal clear streams, and to use its trees for his cool shade?  Did God intend for man to make the world more modern so that he can have those things that he doesn’t really need?  Did God intend for man to make air-polluting modes of transportation to go faster to places that he doesn’t really need to go anyway?  Is that what God intended for man to do?  Was what God created not good enough and mankind needed to improve upon it himself?  We seem to be trapped in a world without answers.  With all the problems that befall mankind today, to my knowledge, not one has ever been resolved.  If anyone has the answers that men continually seek, please step forward and share them with us all.  I have no solution to offer myself except it be in Jesus Christ.  If there is any truth to history, the Indians and even the ancient peoples had a better plan to live in harmony with God’s creation.  One day God is going to return to the earth and reclaim from the devil, and all those that do his evil deeds in their quest to satisfy their endless greed, his creation.  All things will be made right and as if brand new and only those who love his creation and believe in his son Jesus will be allowed to share in his restored creation.  Like God had intended in the first place.