There’s no cooler way to get around on the river than on a sternwheeler.
By Eric Douglas
Thriller fiction and Non-fiction
By Eric Douglas
There’s no cooler way to get around on the river than on a sternwheeler.
By Eric Douglas
By Eric Douglas
I wonder from time to time if my girls realize how lucky they are to have “nature” all around them with such easy access. And I don’t mean jaw-dropping examples of nature like the New River Gorge. Or Snowshoe and Canaan. Or Dolly Sods or…well, you get the picture. West Virginia is full of places like that. People travel hundreds of miles to experience them.
But the great thing about living here is you can find places to get away from civilization for a few hours just down the road. Call it backyard nature for want of a better term.
Last week my dad suggested we take a day and go fishing. He had stumbled on an example of backyard nature that would be a perfect place. We agreed to meet at Wine Cellar Park Lake in Dunbar. I hate to admit it, but I didn’t know this lake existed and I grew up less than 10 minutes away from it.
When we parked I still wasn’t sure where the lake was. It was that well-hidden. Much to my surprise there was an asphalt trail leading almost all the way to the water. The trail sloped gently upward as it followed along a small creek with light dappling through the trees overhead. A number of small bridges crossed back and forth over the water as we worked our way up. At the top of the dam, there were benches, a gazebo and a dock out over the water to make it incredibly easy to cast a line in the water. And we were totally alone there. Just the four of us. Well, okay, there were some frogs laughing at us and a few fish that were more interested in nibbling than biting, but that was it.
A light, occasional breeze stirred the surface of the lake and pushed cattails around while fluffy clouds cruised overhead. The temperature had finally dropped off after last week’s triple-digit heat making it a perfect day to be out by the water. My older daughter was more interested in fishing on this day, but they both enjoy it from time to time. And it was a lot of fun to see the three of them (my daughters and my dad) standing shoulder-to-shoulder with lines in the water. We all talked back and forth, not really worrying about being “quiet” like hardcore anglers. The day was partly about fishing and partly about being outside together.
My daughters are no different than most kids today and a lot of people in general. It’s easier to stay inside. We have every sort of entertainment imaginable. Video games, television and DVR, and the internet—not to mention old-fashioned games and books. It’s cool and comfy, especially when the weather seems to be getting hotter and more unsettled (Call it global warming or climate change or whatever, but these aren’t the summers and winters I remember as a kid.) In the interest of complete disclosure, I wrote this sitting outside on the patio, with a computer tablet on my lap. At least I was outside…
When we stay inside and watch television, we miss so much. Backyard nature is one of the real upsides to living in West Virginia and, for me, it’s something to rediscover. Unfortunately for some people, maybe that familiarity really does breed contempt. It wasn’t bad, but there was some litter on the ground around this pretty little lake as well. My dad and I made a point of telling the girls we were going to take away everything we brought in and a little more, too. I always try to do that wherever I go; whether it is a coral reef or from the bottom of lake or some litter on the street. I’m not fanatical about it, but I try to pick up a little litter and throw it away when I can. I’d much rather not find any in the first place, of course.
Nature is everywhere around us in West Virginia. Second to the people, it is our greatest resource. You can argue about coal or natural gas or other resources from under the ground, and they are all very important, but I want to keep, preserve and continue to share the natural resources of nature around us with my girls.
I can definitely see going back to this little lake for a few hours in the not-too-distant future to have some fun and enjoy time outdoors. If not there, then you’ll definitely find me outside somewhere..
By Eric Douglas
I still remember where I was when I saw the first plane crash into the twin towers. I was on vacation, on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, watching Good Morning America. The show was about to go off and we were preparing to go out on the beach. We didn’t move for four hours that morning. I remember feeling stunned, shocked and sad. I remember anger, too. I remember thinking that the world had irrevocably changed. I’m sure my memories are no different than most everyone’s who saw those terrible events unfold.
I also watched the unveiling of the memorial in New York City on the 10th anniversary of the attacks. It was impressive and touching, but I couldn’t get a grasp on the place. I wasn’t sure how it made me feel to be honest. Last week, on the way home from our honeymoon, we had some time in New York and took the opportunity to visit the memorial for ourselves.
The site itself is impressive, full of silence, except for the sound of water raining down into the foundations where the towers once stood. There was a large crowd there, but it never got loud. People were talking and you heard the occasional laugh, of course, but everyone present seemed to be mindful of the place. I watched a man take a rubbing of a name, wondering if it was a friend, a relative or what. Not for any lyrical reason, but the chorus to the song Tears in Heaven kept running through my mind. It struck me that the water in the two fountains represented the tears cried since the attack.
I will freely admit I got choked up a couple times as I walked along. Mostly the feeling got to me when I saw a woman’s name followed by “and her unborn child.” My daughters were 10 months old and “in utero” respectively on the day of the attack. I noticed it many times.
The memorial site itself is extremely secure. You just can’t walk onto these hallowed grounds like Arlington National Cemeter in Washington DC for example. To visit, you have to reserve a space. You can do it online or show up and see if the time slot you want is open. It’s free, but you have to have a ticket. Even then, with your name on the ticket, you have to pass through three or four checkpoints, produce a “government-issued ID” and go through an X-ray screening of your bags. I assume this heightened screening is to stop someone from defacing the memorial or from trying to make a political display there…adding insult to injury.
The members of the New York Police Department who stood guard inside the memorial grounds appeared serious and edgy. They definitely did not have the look of someone on guard duty who was bored or slacking off. They certainly will never forget the events of 9/11.
On the other hand, it was good to see One World Trade Center gleaming beside the memorial. I know there was a lot of debate about whether to build anything on the site at all, but I think it was for the best to rebuild. Other than being an enormous building in a city full of them, it is highly symbolic about our will to rebuild from tragedy.
I’ve had the good fortune to visit both the memorial at the Pentagon in Washington DC and now the one in NYC. At some point, I’ll probably visit the monument in Pennsylvania for Flight 93, although all of the victims from the Pentagon and all four planes are represented in New York as well. It seems as if many people want to make a pilgrimage to see the name of Todd Beamer, the man who famously said “Let’s roll!” as the passengers on board Flight 93 foiled the hijacking plot. His name appears to be gilded, but it is simply where the frequent touches have polished the metal of the memorial.
I’m obviously not writing this on any anniversary or important date associated with the attack. But I think it’s just as well to remember that attack on random days throughout the year, not just anniversaries. We must never forget what extremism in any form can lead to. It leads to young babies never being born and parents never going home to be with their children, only to be remembered as a name engraved on a memorial.
As we approach the Fourth of July holiday weekend, it’s fitting to remember what this country was built on. There have been difficult times and struggles. As a nation, we have been attacked and have pulled together as a result. Lately, it seems like we’ve lost our way a little bit in the political partisanship and rancor of a process that seems off-kilter. I know the spirit of the United States is still strong. After all, that is what built this country—spirit.
Ultimately, that’s probably the purpose memorials like this one serve. Of course, they are there to help heal and to remember those who died. But they also to help us slow down and remember important events, even on random days throughout the year, to remember the time afterward when as a nation we resolved that we would never let hate defeat our country..
By Eric Douglas
Over the years, I’ve had the good fortune to travel quite a bit, both inside the United States and internationally. Quite a lot of that travel has been while I was working in one capacity or another. Aside from the work aspect, what that meant was that I usually spent time with locals. They showed me around, told me stories and helped me to understand the culture of my destination. That sort of travel isn’t exactly glamorous, but it is certainly enlightening. And it can be a lot of fun.
But here in a couple days, I’m leaving on an entirely different type of travel. I’m taking a cruise. Yep, on one of those big, behemoth cruise ships that holds thousands of people. We’ll be stopping along the way in four destinations, but literally we’ll only be in each one for a few hours at a time. (Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but the longest stop is about eight hours.)
I have to admit to some mixed feelings about this trip. I’m sure it will be a blast and we will laugh and joke and have lots of fun. There will also be plenty of time for introspective staring at the blue Caribbean; time for lying in the sun and playing in the warm water. That part I totally understand, and all indications to the contrary, I do know how to relax and kick back. I don’t have to be in constant motion.
It is also extremely likely that I will get some writing done. And hold on, before you say “But, that’s work. You’re supposed to be on vacation,” as a writer, writing is a lot like reading, except I get to tell the characters what happens. Writing is certainly work, and it can be difficult, but when the words are flowing it is a whole lot of fun.
The part where my mixed feelings come in is the time visiting the ports-of-call. It’s going to kill me to tour around a place for a few hours and then have to get back on board the cruise ship and head off to the next destination. I’m going to want to talk to people and hang out and watch the sunset, have a beer with the locals and hear what they have to say.
I’m sure I’ll make the best of it…yes, I am joking. I KNOW it will be great. But even this falls into the category of new life adventures for me. I’ll probably have to spend some time exploring the behind-the-scenes parts of the cruise ship though to make myself feel less guilty about not actually “working” while I’m on board. Hey, maybe I’ll get enough ideas that I can set a future story on board a cruise ship bouncing around the Caribbean. Yeah, that should help assuage my guilt….
By Eric Douglas
Over the last few years, I’ve had some pretty cool adventures. I’ve traveled throughout Russia, dived in the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian oceans and throughout the Caribbean Sea, and been on six of the seven continents (still trying to get to Antarctica).
But tomorrow, I start a new adventure a little closer to home. I am marrying Beverly (Blackwell) Jordan and couldn’t be more excited about it. She is an intelligent, charming, beautiful woman who has had me totally captivated since we reconnected a little over a year ago. I say reconnected because we knew each other, and even dated briefly, about 25 years ago. We hadn’t seen each other in about 18 years until March of 2010 when she came to see the exhibit of my Russian photography project at the West Virginia Culture Center.
We chatted from time to time over the following year, and then last April we began discussing getting together for dinner one evening. It has been non-stop ever since.
This isn’t the first marriage for either of us, as evidenced by the fact that we will both have children present and participating in the wedding. But I’m confident it will be the last. For the first six months of our relationship we lived in separate states. That forced us to talk to each other rather than spending all of our time doing things together. We texted, chatted and skyped every day. And we learned a lot about each other. I think that will make all the difference.
This isn’t the normal fare for this blog and I hope you will indulge me this opportunity to say something a little more personal. I am getting married tomorrow and I am totally in love. It’s funny, though. I am totally in love, but still have a reasonable expectation of what is involved in marriage. It’s hard work. It’s compromise. It’s giving up what you want (from time to time) for the good of the relationship. It is about supporting each other, believing in each other and being there for each other.
So, welcome to my latest adventure. Don’t worry, I have no intention of turning this blog into the story of our married life. I’m sure Bev would kill me if I tried that. And frankly, I like to keep my private life as private as I can. But sometimes you just have to shout the good stuff from the top of the tallest building (metaphorically speaking, of course).
In approximately 24 hours, we will be saying “I do.” I pray that God will bless this new family and our union.
And then the adventure really begins!