Epilogue

So, I've completed another 30 day writing challenge.  I said I wanted more of a challenge and I got one.  It took me over 60 days to complete and only a few of the days were because I just got tired of writing and decided not to.  Many of these entries stretched my creativity, they demanded discipline and a willingness to keep writing even when I didn't feel like it.  A number of prompts required me to do research and that accounted for many of the "skipped" days.  I might not have been posting daily. . .or even writing words daily.  But writing is about a lot more than writing (or typing) words.  Research, planning, thinking, imagining--all of these are a part of writing.  On balance I'm happy with the 29 prompted entries (I combined two prompts).  Some I like better than others; some are better written, but overall I'm satisfied with the work I've done.

And now. . .what comes next?  Last year I planned to continue writing on a daily basis, and while I didn't meet that goal, I did do a lot more writing than I have in a long time.  Last winter and spring I wrote a reboot of the play Point of Impact and we staged the production at the end of April.  Then this past fall, I wrote a new short story called "Walls" as part of my character building for my role of David in Jasmyn Green's stageplay Lie in the Bed You Make.  You'll recall the character of David makes an appearance in "Finding Home" and in my last prompt of the 30-day writing challenge, "The First Day."  In between the story and the play, I managed to post at least once a month on this blog.

Still, while last year might be deemed successful in terms of a couple new pieces of writing, this year it's time to step things up.  I really want to make writing a truly daily discipline. I want to make writing such a consistent and integral part of my daily life that there will  not be a need for another 30 day writing challenge November.  That said, I don't plan on a post a day here on this blog.  I'm still looking to maintain one to four posts a month on  the blog as my standard.  My main focus will be on a new book that I've been wanting to write for. . .well, the last 23 years or so.  I've been talking about it for years and now it's time to do it.  My goal for this year is to work daily on a book about my life-changing ten months as a student missionary on Chuuk.  It's a story that needs to be told and I'm not putting off telling it any longer.

And for all you other would-be authors out there, I challenge you.  Let this be your year too!  Let's do this.

I took this photo overlooking Chuuk Lagoon, I believe in early 1995. Let the adventure begin!

The First Day

This final work of fiction in my thirty day writing challenge is a call back to my first prompt "Last Sentence" and also references "Finding Home." Feel free to check out these stories for further context!

Photo Credit: Steve at the What Do I Know blog. Great blog by the way.  This guy is nothing if not prolific!

Don't ever let anyone tell you God doesn't have a sense of humor.  He had taken the wheel. Literally.  I mean the steering wheel was gone.  The steering column remained, a blunt stake just inches from my chest.

I had never lost consciousness but in the quietness after the chaos of the crash, it felt like I was just coming around. There was the hiss of steam, the steady sound of something dripping somewhere, the vague creak of twisted metal. The passenger side door had been pushed in so far, my right shoulder now leaned on it. There was the smell of fuel and oil. In a moment of panic I wondered if the car might explode and that motivated me to begin to try to get out.  I wasn't sure how bad my injuries were.  I knew they must be terrible, but I felt only a general achiness and soreness which I chalked up to shock.  I anticipated shooting pain as I began to try extricate myself from the drivers seat, but when I began to move no new pain emerged.

 I unbuckled my seat belt and tried the door. It unlatched but wouldn't open more than an inch or two.  The window was a web of shattered glass still in it's frame. The windshield was gone though, and I determined to climb out that way.  Carefully I climbed up over the wheel-less steering column and the glass covered dashboard and gingerly pulled myself through the windshield.  The only new pain I felt was the sharp sting of broken glass puncturing my hands. A few moments later I was standing among the rocks and weeds of the ravine looking at the crushed remains of my car.  I could not believe I had survived, and indeed was able to stand.  This was the sort of wreck where best case scenario, I would have been trapped inside both legs broken waiting for the Jaws of Life to pry me free.  Instead, I stood apparently unharmed.  I couldn't explain it.  My guardian angel surely must have earned his pay today.

An 18-wheeler thundered by on the highway above me.  The ravine was easily twenty yards deep and while passing cars would surely have seen the broken guardrail they might not have realized that an accident had just happened if they couldn't see my car in the darkened ravine. I shuddered at the realization that if I had been trapped in the car I might have had to wait for quite some time until an alert driver noticed what had happened--or until the wreck exploded into a fiery ball with me inside.  I laughed in amazement. I couldn't help it. I was free!

You don't know happiness until you've inexplicably escaped certain death.  All the things that had caused me anguish before were now nothing.  Lauryn and I were struggling to put a damaged marriage back together.  On the drive I'd begun to doubt we could do it--we had both done so much to break things.  But now? Now all I could think of was getting home to her.  Financial worries, the impending trial, the future--the future!  I had a future! That alone was reason to celebrate.  As I scrabbled up the ravine towards the roadside I rejoiced in the movements of my straining muscles, the firmness in my unbroken bones.  I reveled in the stinging pain in my glass-cut hands and the general soreness all over my body. I was alive and nothing--and everything--mattered!

At last I reached the top of the ravine.  With a twinge of regret I realized that I'd left my phone in the wreck.  So much for calling the police. Or Lauryn.  How I longed to hear her voice! But no matter, I'd flag someone down. If that didn't work, I'd just start walking to the next exit. Anything was possible.
I perched on an undamaged portion of the guardrail to wait for the next car to come along.  Lauryn had given us a second chance.  Now God had given me one too. The autumn air was crisp and clean.  The crumpled wreckage of the car was barely visible in ravine below.  The silver dust of moonlight settled coldly on the night.

The Privy (or the Unfortunate Case of Levi Duffey)

Prompt: You are at a cemetery reading gravestones.  Write about one of the people you find.

July 18, 1849

Father and I have quarreled extensively over the placement of our privy and I have at last decided to take the matter in hand.

We have never related well. Perhaps it is because of my circumstances in becoming a part of this family.  The death of my parents when I was thirteen years of age and then being adopted into the Yeo family after protracted legal proceedings have always led me to believe that I do not really belong.  And after fighting so hard for the Duffey inheritance it seems certain to  me that my father was more concerned with monetary gain than the son that came with it. After many years residing across the Ohio River in Covington we moved here to Harveysburg, Ohio this past two months to avoid the dreaded cholera which is even now consuming Cincinnati and the surrounding regions like a savage beast. The poisnous miasma of the congested city for the fresh atmosphere of the farmland is a more than advantageous trade and all should be well. But for this struggle over the privy all would be quite satisfactory.

Father is insistent on being the patriarach of the family and his orders are to be followed without question. I am 28 years old though and fully in my own manhood now however and I see no reason that my perfectly reasonable thoughts on the matter shouldn't also be considered. In short, I felt it was most practical to place the privy near the run.  The ground is easily managed and disposal of the waste will require little effort. Also, because it is further from the main house we will not be plagued with the noxious odors that will emanate from it once it has seen heavy use. It is very clear to me that this is the better location for the privy.  Father feels otherwise. He would prefer to have the privy near the oak tree adjacent to the house for convenience of use.  This despite the laborious work that will be required to dig through the rocky soil on this part of the property and the lack of ease in waste disposal.  Most likely a deep pit would need be dug and this would require many more man-hours that would be better employed elsewhere.

We have had sharp words on the matter.  The old man even dared to quote scripture at me reminding me of my duty to honor my father.  I shall be damned if I allow father to use the Holy Writ to manipulate me into doing his bidding. My siblings all looked on in silence.  I would have expected them to come to my aid, but they were all cowed by father's wrath.  I alone resisted him.  At last it came to some physical struggle, and I regret the manner in which I was forced to handle him.  But he left me no choice.  Having established my primacy, I ordered Joshua and Bernard to assist me in the immediate construction of the privy at the site I had chosen before Father had recovered sufficiently to oppose me once again. But once recovered he gave no further interference. It gave me some momentary sadness to see him so thoroughly defeated, but only momentary.  I was right and it had to be done.

And so the work is done.  The privy sits just adjacent to Jonah's Run as planned.  I sit here now breathing in the clear fresh air free of the unpleasant odors that would surely have accompanied the recent business of the family at the privy had I not prevailed.  I enjoy a cold cup of water from the stream and rejoice in my spirit, knowing that all is well.

Levi Duffey  son of Joshua & Ally Yeo, Died July 25, 1849 at age of 28

Honor thy father and thy mother; that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee
              --Exodus 20:12


So, I came up with this story after making a quick stop at the historic Jonah's Run Baptist church in Harveysburg, Ohio.  The church and accompanying cemetery are right on Route 73, which we take going to and from Barbara's mother's house.  I've noticed the church for years now and always wanted to stop off and look around the beautiful old building.  In this case, it was the easiest cemetery for me to visit.  I was able to pull into the parking lot, take about two minutes to take some snaps of some of the tombstones and be on my way.

Historic Jonah's Run Baptist Church where many members of the Yeo family are buried. Remarkably this church is still in use today.

Right away I noticed a string of deaths of adult children of Joshua and Ally Yeo in 1849.  I found that rather unusual.  I knew that infant mortality was high in those days but for a bunch of adults to die in quick succession like that seemed odd to me.  I took to Google to do some research.  I found very little information about the Yeo family other than some evidence of some sort of  a legal dispute with the  James & Jacob Douglas in Kentucky in 1834 (see p.96, Folder 29 in the records of the Warren County, Kentucky Equity Court Cases file archived by Western Kentucky University) .  I suspected that the cause of death was some sort of epidemic and sure enough, further research revealed that the Midwest had been devastated by a horrific cholera epidemic in 1849 and 1850.  Cincinnati and other small towns in Ohio were ravaged by the disease.  Compounding the problem was the fact that no one correctly understood what caused the disease.  The prevailing belief was that cholera was an airborne disease spread through "miasma".  People fled the cities in droves to escape the disease, not understanding that they were bringing the disease with them.  Cholera is caused by drinking water contaminated by human fecal matter. Because people often literally pooped where they drank, the disease spread with ease. You can read more about the epidemic here and here.

With this information, I had everything I needed for a story.  Of course, the story of the conflict between Levi Duffey and his adoptive father is entirely made up.  I don't have any information on them or their relationship and certainly no specific details on how cholera swept through the Yeo family claiming four young adults in the space of five months.  But a story requires conflict so I created one.  And the sad results of my fictional conflict, in addition to Levi's own demise?

Mary Yeo daugher of Joshua & Ally Yeo: Died August 8, 1849 at age of 26

Flavilla Yeo daughter of Joshua & Ally Yeo: Died Oct. 5, 1849 at age of 25

Joshua Yeo son of Joshua & Ally Yeo : Died Nov 30, 1849 at age of 18