TCC: The Fourth Crumb, Part I

No, finding-out that I was adopted was not the only shock unto my system that I received that day. For it was also at that time that I learned that my father had been married when he entered the army during World War II; and that he had a daughter by the woman. Both being estranged for a long, long time. For she had left him while he was still overseas; and all of his efforts at reconciliation after returning home from the war were rebuffed.

Perhaps it was an overreaction; but at the moment I learned that I was adopted: the image that I had of myself turned to dust right before my very eyes. For I could no longer think of myself as be 1/4 Dutch and 1/4 Danish (from my father), as well as 1/4 Cherokee and 1/4 Irish (from my mother); and for the first time: I started to question just who I really was.

No, it did not have to go that far. For if my parents had of had some answers unto my questions about who my biological parents were, along with the circumstances involved: the news of my adoption would not have been so devastating unto me; but all of my questions were left unanswered.

Even worse was their reaction unto my questions. For they took my questions as being a personal affront; and they became very angry with me for not acting like it was no big deal.

Yes, I am quite sure that a very great many would be of the opinion that I did overreact. For gaining knowledge about their ancestry is not high on their list of priorities.

Nonetheless: I was (and still am) a very serious student of history; and I would spend hours fantasizing about who was in my family tree, and what part they may have played in the shaping of the world that they lived in. Were any of them vikings, or great warriors? How about great explorers, or industrial giants? Poets, preachers, princes, or paupers? Like dust in the wind: all of that had blown away.

Now, Terry was most definitely a different story. For I do not remember him having a reaction unto the news of his adoption. Whether it was because of him being too young, or that it really was no big deal unto him: I do not know.

No, I do not remember just how it came up. Perhaps something had been said at school about someone being adopted that got me curious?

Neither do I remember just exactly when my little world came unto an end. For what I do remember is that I was riding with my mother heading south on Missouri Highway 86 through the Wolf Pen Gap area coming from Cassville towards our home in the Eagle Rock area. Therefore: it was probably around 1971-72; and I would have been either 13 or 14, with Terry being 8 or 9.

Wolf Pen Gap? Yes, one would think that there is a very interesting story about such a place; but the only thing that I do know about it is that an early settler (1830's) in the area built some wolf traps in a holler (hollow) not far from a trail through a particularly mountainous part of the Ozarks about 10 miles northwest of Roaring River, MO (founded in 1832), which was later moved down-stream and renamed: "Eagle Rock".

I found much of that out while compiling a history of the Eagle Rock area for the purpose of completing a Boy Scout community service project; and what a project it turned-out to be. For one of the most highly-respected leaders around, Emory Melton (of Cassville), included my findings in a book that he had published about the history of Barry County, MO.

No, I am not talking about traps for coyotes and wild dogs. For there really were wolves in the area back then, along with: black bears, black panthers, mountain lions, lynx, bobcats, wildcats, elk, and several types of deer; and all but the wolves, elk, and some of the types of deer still remain there unto a certain extent.

Yes, I am being serious about there still being some mountain lions, black panthers, and black bears in parts of southern Barry County, MO. For what I have not personally encountered myself: my brother has.

One of those personal encounters of mine is even worth expounding upon (in my humble opinion, of course). For it happened when I was checking-out an old hollered-out tree while squirrel hunting not far from the house. The tree had to have been at least 5 feet in diameter; and when I started to circle around it: I came face to face with a black bear about as tall as I was (around 6 foot). Both of us took off in opposite directions; but this is not the funniest part of the story. For after I had ran about 50 feet away: I stopped and looked back to see the bear stopped and looking back at me from about the same distance away from the tree.

No, that is not the only noteworthy encounter that I have had with the wildlife of the area. For there was one time when I was riding with my mother heading for Cassville after dark; and I had to take a whiz really bad. When she finally stopped: I jumped out and let 'er fly right there on the side of the road. I did not even take the time to close the door; and then I heard a mountain lion cut-loose somewhere off in the distance. Now, if you have ever heard one: you can probably understand why the cab of my mother's pick-up truck had to be cleaned afterward. For it sounds like a woman screaming; and I was not about to wait until I had finished my business before jumping through that open door and locking it securely behind me!!!