Ok, lets call it a string of bad luck running back over 3 years. First it was worlds greatest gun show pard John. He up and croaked on me. We all knew he was having problems and it was getting apparent the valve job on his heart wasn't as successful as hoped.

Then last year our long time friend and clown Glen Bolin passed away. Glen lived a hard life. When he was 14 he fell under a train and crushed both his left arm and leg. But he lived to 83 and about as active as a person with disabilities could be. He provided a good living and had a sharp mind all those years.

Now my buddy Joe is in the hospital. He was supposed to get his lazy butt out of bed and meet me at a gunshow bright and early Saturday morning. Instead he decided to have a heart attack. I'm just amazed at the lengths a person will go to so they can get out of a gun show. But he's doing OK now. I spoke with him last night and he's doing fine.

So if you do me a dirty deed and I suddenly get all friendly with you....see your cardiologist.

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Dick Burg

Kind of inconsiderate of your friends to treat you that way.

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- Change it back -

Dick,

Man, I'll just stay on the aisle side of the table... ~smiley~

We all know that life's just life...Ain't knowbody goin' before their time.
Even a lucky handshake from Ol' Dick can't change that.

See ya and Best Regards

Su Amigo,
Dave

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"IN GOD WE TRUST"

Dick,

I know I said I would go to the range with you next Saturday, but the guns I planned to take with me were just bead blasted, it supposed to rain that day and you can imagine the rust that would grow on them in a few short minutes!

Gonna have to cancel...

rags

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RIP Shipmate

Dick - you are right, the days have a way of leaning toward sunset. We've all noticed it, but there is the promise of many days ahead to be hoped for, with good pals and family. Here's a little piece lifting up our leisure pursuits:

"LEISURE"

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

By Wm. Henry Davies.
(Wm. Henry Davies (1871-1940) is to be considered as the poet of the tramps. Born at Newport, Wales in the UK, Davies came to America from Great Britain and lived the life of a vagabond. One day, as the result of jumping a train, he lost one of legs. Davies returned to England where he continued to live the life of a tramp and a pedlar. He wrote poetry (presumably he did right along) and, eventually, he determined to print his own book and did so with the little money he earned panhandling. A copy of this first work, A Soul's Destroyer, came into the hands of George Bernard Shaw; which, in turn, led to the popularization of the poet. [from bluepete.com]

Cheers,

Dyson

Dick; I know the feeling. Lost most of my buddys & some hunting friends also. Now I'm hunting with kids. You know, like in their 40's & 50's. I used to be the dog & brush buster now I'm the old guy sitting on a rock or stump waiting for the kids to run a buck to me. LOL. They call me the old man & maybe I am but at 79 I can still go hunting & enjoy myself. Keep the faith Dick.

I would've loved to meet any man tough enough to get hit by a train and live to be 83. Thats a good man to have on your side, if a train can't stop him no man on this earth will.

Damn Dick, I didn't know about Glen. I really enjoyed talking with him when I was last up there. Will you tell the class "The Rest of The Story" about him. Even though he was disabled since 14 he was able to provide for his family and there was one time in particular that he took very good care of himself. I was very impressed and think everyone else here would be also. I think it would be very therapeutic if you told his story. How about it group? Does Dick need to tell the story? By the way, I just had my ticker checked and I'm good to go for a while longer. I see some table sitting in my future at Louisville. Maybe this fall?

Sorry to hear about your lost friends DB. Glad to hear Joe is doing well. It sure is tough losing those closest to us. Every day is a gift, so do your best to enjoy them all to the fullest.


WG840

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Freedom above all else.

I'd like to hear it, I haven't been doing too well myself lately and a little positive inspiration might help. Or he could just dress up like the Grim Reaper and come up and chase me around the yard, that might get me moving too.

OK Dick, that's one yes vote. You gonna tell the story? You know it better than me. It is truly inspirational. Oh, I'm the second yes vote.

Tell the story. Glen was a gunshow fixture for a long time.

And what about Joe? I can't imagine a young guy like him, one that took physical conditioning so seriously, having a heart attack. He coulda played center for the Yankees.....go figure.

I really can't tell the Glen stories as well as Joe. He and Joe were best friends for decades.

Most of Glen's problems relate to his free spirit personality. In his youth, he wouldn't stay at home. His hobby was jumping trains and going for adventure rides. He lived in southern Kentucky and would take off to any destination. His parents couldn't even lock him in the house, he'd escape and head out. Well, until the day he fell.

Glen was pretty proud. But he was a gambler and was smart enough to win most of the time. Seeing him in his later years its kind of hard to image a guy with only one arm and one leg being athletic. His game was to bet someone who was making fun of him that he could get from one side of a country road, guard rail to guard rail and back faster than the other guy. I never saw him do it, but everyone who did was just astounded at the scramble.

But Glen became a pawn shop owner. He had dozens of stories he'd share with us at every gun show. Sitting there during dull periods gave him the audience to spin his tales. Most were verifiable. Glen had a favorite gun, a Centennial. When you live in that part of Kentucky and run a pawn shop, you just carry a gun everywhere, all the time. He apparently was good with the gun, showing Joe how to shoot (Joe's wife can out shoot Joe, by the way.)

But one night enjoying the peace and quiet of his home, some thugs kicked in the door and started shooting. They hit Glen a few times, his wife was untouched. But Glen wasn't just going to die and be robbed. He came up shooting. I guess both the bad guys didn't like targets that shot back, so they ran. Of course they carted Glen off to the hospital to get patched up. The police found one of the two bad guys. He died trying to get away. No one knows if he hit the other guy or not (except maybe the other guy.) After that, crooks tended to leave Glen alone. He wasn't mean, but he enjoyed the protection the reputation gave him.

And he always carried the trusty old Centennial after that.

Glen also knew everyone worth knowing in his part of the state, and some that weren't. He had friends in low places... In fact, he had friends everywhere. Yes, its a shame he passed away.

We're having trouble with the good old guys just not lasting forever. With my pard John, he knew the end was coming. He was the county Coroner for a long time, and an undertaker for a lot longer. He knew what congestive heart failure looked like, he was a smart man. An interesting John story came in early June of 8 years ago. He called me at work. He just had to tell someone that 50 years before, to the day, he started his career in funeral homes. He was a 13 year old lad who'd been hired to sweep the local funeral home. He was scared to death. But he became a hero because he was tough enough to face the ghosts and things. His buddies were in awe!

I spoke with Joe again tonight. He's doing better, but still an inmate at the hospital. He got a stint (he said a #7) and just wants to go home. The doctor said no, not until they see how much damage he has. And like all of us who are faced with cardiac problems, he's swearing he'll be a changed man. Lets hope he takes his Plavics and Lipitor as prescribed.

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Dick Burg

I married an older woman ( by one week ) who is an excellent and avid competition golfer. Now that we are in our 60's she is running into the same situation you are where her friends are dying or getting ailments that prevent them from competing. Her solution is to make new friends who are 10 to 20 years younger than she is so they can keep up with her. You might try that strategy.

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I like Ike.

Hi:
I would be your buddy and go to Gun Shows , Shooting Ranges with you, but I seeing the "Bright Light" in the distance also.
Jimmy

Dick, thanks for the story.

Dick, sorry to hear about your friends, tough after all that time and being together at the shows, I know when we lost "little Frank" ( Mr Ludwig) tough to get anyone to help behind the table.........

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dan
NRA Benefactor,PMA

Josey Wales: When I get to likin' someone, they ain't around long.

Lone Watie: I notice when you get to DISlikin' someone they ain't around for long neither.

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Where do we go from here?

Dick, I hope to see you AND Joe at Louisville in the near future.

He know's his S&W's, he pulled out that little notebook with Outdoorsman serial numbers in it and gave me a lesson in date vs. serial numbers, sight variation (one or two screws) and his take on the 22 cal - 38 spl overall production.

Not many men are left that collected revolvers and the information that goes with them.

Please give him my wishes for a speedy recovery.

Gail