There is a 19-story Cross located next to Interstate 40 (formerly U.S. Route 66.)  This free-standing Cross can be seen from about twenty miles away on the Texas plain and surrounding its base are life-sized statues of the Stations of the Cross.

Kyle and I were driving across Texas, en route to Tulsa to drop off his step-brother Tim, when it appeared in the distance. The three of us — knowing it might be a long while before we had a chance to see this road-side attraction again — decided to stop.

As I recall, there are 13 bronze castings of Christ as He makes His way to His crucifixion — including one when he’s removed. It is a remarkable visual story being told — all without words.

But for me — the most powerful — and perhaps the most frightening statue is of the Roman guard driving home a nail through the palm and wrist of  Jesus. While the sculpture as a whole caught my eye at first glance– it was the shadow on the ground which drew my attention.

It —  for me — underscores John 3:16 : “For God so loved the world, that gave his only begotten Son.”

It was breezy and a bit chilly when we started down the path to the second, and larger of the two lighthouses along the Mendocino Coastline. I was feeling somewhat disappointed that the weather was not cooperating with the three of us and our little weekend vacation.

We trooped on anyway — making it out to the Point Arena Lighthouse. At 115 feet, it’s the tallest lighthouse on the West coast. It’s also the closest location on the mainland to Honolulu, Hawaii.

The first European mention Point Arena was Spaniard Bartolomé Ferrelo in 1543. He named it Cabo de Fortunas, which is Spanish for “cape of fortunes.”

The cape was renamed to Punta Delgado or narrow point in 1775 by lieutenant Juan Francisco de la Bodega y Quadra, commander of the schooner Sonora. He and his ship were  part of a royal expedition chartered by the government of Mexico to map the north coast of Alta California. 

Later the point was called Barra de Arena (i.e. sandbar) and finally Point Arena, which literally translates to “sand point.”  The first post office opened in 1858, originally called Punta Arenas — it was renamed Point Arena in 1889 and by 1908, a town by the same name had incorporated itself.

Even Kyle — who generally doesn’t like heights — climbed up and enjoyed the view from the “gallery.”

They are jus’ a mile or so north of DeMartins Beach, along Highway 101. They are known locally as “The Devil’s Footsteps.”

I have no idea where the name came from or why, unfortunately — but vaguely suspect it is from the area’s Native Americans — who used to reside along the rocky coastline — and somehow screwed up by later settlers.

As a kid, I used to climb all over these rocks. There are several areas in and around them in which natural caves occur and that’s what drew me to them when I was younger.

Kyle and I stopped to walk up and down that section of the beach and so I could talk some pictures and tell him about some of my childhood experience. Little did I know — we were about to have an experience of our own.

I was walking ahead of Kyle — leading the way — when he says, “You simply disappeared.”

Kyle was right — I had jus’ taken a photo of the group of rocks when I lost my balance, then my footing and dropped over six feet to the jagged rocks below. While I managed to protect my camera — I failed to protect myself — breaking several ribs on the left side of my chest wall.

Unable to pick myself up — and had Kyle not been there — I’m pretty sure I would have washed out to sea with the next high tide.  Thanks, Kyle!

It was a “boy’s weekend,” meaning Kyle and I were on the road enjoying ourselves. We decided to stop so I could talk a few pictures of a herd of elk resting in a pasture area jus’ of Highway 101.

That’s where Kyle made friends with a juvenile horse. I had jus’ snapped their picture and turned my attention to the pasture, when I heard Kyle say, “Dad.”

I continued focusing on the elk, when I heard him — a little more insistent this time say, “Dad!” 

Looking over at him and I saw the horse had a hold of his pants in the front area. Poor Kyle had one hand on the fence post and the other on the barbed wire fence — bracing himself from being pulled onto the barbs.

Quickly, I rushed over a slapped the animal across his snout –whereupon he let go of Kyle. It was perhaps the first time I had ever really heard Kyle drop the “f-bomb” as he took off around a nearby out-building to see if the beast had grabbed him by “the brush or his handle.”

He came back less than a minute later, “Damn horse…now I have a bald spot!”

The Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens are located on 47 acres and offers everything from colorful floral displays to crashing waves. The weather makes it a garden worth visiting year-round. It includes formal gardens, a coastal pine forest, native flora and habitats, fern-covered canyons, camellias, rhododendrons, magnolias and conifers, heaths and heathers, and coastal bluffs overlooking the ocean.

In fact one travel brochure I read called the gardens “a jewel on the Pacific Coast.”

The gardens were created in 1961 by retired nurseryman named Ernest Schoefer.  The Grand Opening of the Gardens was in 1966. By 1992, the Gardens had been purchased with grants from the California Coastal Conservancy and transferred to the Mendocino Coast Recreation and Park District.

Inside the gardens are trails and vistas, unlike any I had hiked on or to, and well worth the cost of admission. They also come with convient places to sit and rest a spell if you need to do so — which is how I happened upon this seat in the middle of a conifer forest and surrounded by ferns.

First off, I’m not a ghost-hunter, a paranormal investigator, a medium or a sensitive — but I have seen a few unusual things from time-to-time. Call it imagination or call it supernatural — I’m not in the business of explaining these thing — I’m jus’ telling of what I observed and how I responded.

To preface what I’m about to impart — after working a particularly long weekend shift and being exhausted — I walked by the men’s room in the radio station and saw a what I thought was somebody going inside. I knew where my on-air relief was at the time and also knew no one was supposed to be in the building, but us two.

So I poked my head in the restroom and found there was nobody there. I continued on my way out the door and never thought about it again — chalking it up to fatigue.

Then…

It was jus’ after three on Sunday morning and I had jus’ completed my newscast, when I started for the restroom. I got as far as the sales area — a place lovingly call the “pit” — when I observed a shadow pass along the far wall of the office.

This shadow shouldn’t have been there as no one was walking along the wall. Besides the shadow seemed to be cast in the wrong direction — straight up — instead of slightly backwards as it moved closer to the light that is positioned above the exit.

Quickly, I returned to my work area and grabbed my digital camera — switching it from normal setting to infrared and returning to the pit.

As I walked towards the area where I had seen the shadow — I popped off three photos. That when my camera died, even though I had jus’ replaced the batteries in it the evening before.

So went to the restroom — hoping that whatever it was didn’t follow me in there — as being frightened and peeing on oneself  is unpleasant. And once finished, I retreated to the news desk where all the lights were on.

I remained there for the duration of my shift.

The rumor started with the senator’s aide telling a newspaper reporter they were “keeping him on ice.” And like many rumors, it became more interesting than the truth.

Key Pittman was playing cards with friends the night before elections when he fell ill. A doctor was brought to his room at the Riverside Hotel and it was learned the five-time Nevada senator had suffered a massive heart attack.

Quietly, he was transferred to a local hospital. It is here that he remained until his death  five days later.

His condition was kept very hush-hush, even though he had won reelection to the U.S. Senate for a sixth term. It seems the powers that be at the time, Governor Edward Carville and others within the Democrat party didn’t want to tip their hand that he was near death.

Once he did pass away, Carville made a move for the seat, but Carville’s wife balked at the idea. Instead the governor appointed Berkley Bunker to fill out the late senators term.

Somehow the idea that Pittman was in the hospital during election day and never left his death-bed without being seen by anyone outside the Democrat party, his family and doctors and nurses led to speculation that he had been placed in a bath tub, filled with ice to keep him “fresh,” until after the appointment could be made.

There are several odd foot notes to this already strange tale — including news reports that he died at the Mizpah Hotel in Tonopah, where he is reported to have been “put on ice,” according to the hotels restaurant menu. This is followed by the fact that his younger brother Vail was reportedly promised the appointment to fill the senate seat, by Carville, who instead appointed Bunker. 

As it turns out the appointment may have been a case of cronyism as Bunker was also a Mormon bishop. It’s believed Carville felt he owed the bishop a favor as the bishop supposedly delivered on a promise to “bring in the Mormon vote,” for Carville. 

Then in 1945, Carville did resign as governor in order to be appointed to the once again vacant senate seat. Carville’s  lieutenant governor immediately became acting governor — and that was none other than Key’s brother, Vail.

Lastly there was a two-year delay in Key Pittman’s interment.  The now deceased senator had wanted a mountaintop memorial or one at the University of Nevada, Reno — however his friends and widow were unable to raise the needed funds.

Instead he was laid to rest in a mausoleum in the Mountain View Cemetery in Reno. Nearly 24 years later, Vail join his older brother and is now buried nearby.

Of all the things he did in his life, my old man seems most proud of saving a group of children from a run-away vehicle. When he died in 1995 — I located his Air Force commendation medal and had it buried with him.

I thought it only fitting.

1 cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 ½ cup peanut butter
4 ½ cup oatmeal
6 ounce package of chocolate chips
6 ounce M&Ms

Cream butter and sugar, then add eggs, vanilla and peanut butter.
Mix well.
Add oatmeal, chips and M&Ms.
Put on a baking sheet and bake 10-12 minute at 350 F.
You can customize by adding coconut, walnut, butterscotch chips, etc.
Makes four dozen.

Prep: 40 minutes Bake: 20 minutes Cool: 1 hour Oven: 400°F 6 servings

1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
11/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon (optional)
¼ cup butter or margarine
6 cups peach slices
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 egg
1/4 cup milk

1. Preheat oven to 400°F. For topping, in a medium bowl stir together flour, the 2 table spoons sugar, the baking powder, salt, and, if desired, cinnamon. Cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs; set aside.

2. For filling, in a saucepan combine 1/3 to 2/3 cup sugar, 1/4 cup water, and 1 tablespoon cornstarch. Stir in 5 cups peach slices. Cook and stir until slightly thickened and bubbly.

3. In a small bowl stir together egg and milk. Add to flour mixture, stirring just until moistened. Transfer hot filling to a 2-quart square baking dish. Using a spoon, immediately drop topping into six mounds on top of filling.

4. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until topping is golden brown. Let cool in pan on a wire rack about 1 hour.