Where He Came From

                                             My dad, Marvin, was quite a character that grew up on one side of the Appachicola River in Liberty Co. He came from scrappy folk from near Cantonement in a little area called Walnut Hill in Florida. When mentioning this to our friend Hunter, he knew exactly the dirt road Dad grew up on and declared it excellent hog huntin' there. To me, it was a place that time forgot in the sandy pines, dirt roads of backwoods Florida. I didn't really have to much to do with it until, at the age of 60, Dad died waiting for a lung transplant, and I found myself once again on those lonely roads. I was totally surprised by the awesome, deep primal feeling that I was home again and  so was Dad. The same church he went to as a child was the same church family that prepared our dazed family a spread of unpretentious food. Fried chicken, potato salad and cold, sweet tea to get us through the hell that was July in Florida in an un-airconditioned church. He was buried next to his mama and daddy and unbeknownst to us three children, we had each put a cigar in with him and a pocket knife, you know.... to make the journey easier. Recently I came across something in my family remembrances that I had totally forgotten that I had, it was the silver coin that was placed on dad's navel when he was born. I think they did this in the old days to sterilize. I am grateful that I got to go back and see where he started off and where he ended in this beautful little back roads place near the Perdido River.