Monthly Archives: December 2009

Hank Cochran’s Christmas Tale

Posted on by Hank Cochran
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Hank Cochran

Hank Cochran

“As a child, I lived with my grandparents and we were very poor. Every year I would hear the other kids talking about Christmas trees and presents – and I really didn’t understand why we didn’t have those things.

We talked about Jesus, but His birthday wasn’t a gift-giving occasion at our small home in Mississippi. One year when I was six or seven, I finally got up the nerve to ask my grandmother why we didn’t celebrate Christmas like everyone else. Her answer was, “You just have to believe.”

Well, that was pretty heady thinking for a kid, but I wanted presents like all of the other kids – so I began to concentrate – and believe.

That Christmas Eve, Grandmother reminded me of my promise to believe, and I went to bed that night praying for “Christmas” with all my might.

This post was submitted by Hank Cochran.

Country Added Helpful Ingredient to Tippy Canoe’s Influence Stew

Posted on by Tippy Canoe
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By Tippy Canoe

Growing up in suburban Maryland our house was constantly filled with music: Pop, R&B, Stadium Rock and a great heaping spoonful of Country and Bluegrass. I soaked it all in and although I wouldn’t admit it at the time, because it was something my parents were into; I really liked a lot of the hillbilly music.

As I headed into my teenage years the standard scheduled rebellious phase set in and my nails, lips, and hair miraculously turned black; the switch for melodrama was flicked on and I fell in love with the sounds blasted by my local college radio station.

This post was submitted by Tippy Canoe.

Outrunnin’ The Torrent in Nigeria

Posted on by Steven Casper
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By Steven Casper

Steven Casper

Steven Casper

I was 12 years old and living in Lagos, Nigeria. Our house was outside of the city near the ocean. There was not much else around. The bush (jungle) started across the street. It was so dense that it looked like a solid green wall. In the other direction about 2 miles, down a deserted road, was the ocean. Nigeria sits right on the equator and has a serious monsoon season that lasts for several months. The rains come everyday during this period at 3pm and lasts about a half hour. It’s a hard rain. Gray and impenetrable.

Nearly every day when school let out at noon I would grab my fishing gear, hop on my bike and ride out to the deserted pier at the end of the road.

Most of the time I would have a little luck, get on my bike and be back home before the rains came. But not on this day. I lost track of time enjoying the tranquility. And then I looked up and saw the rain. It was about a mile out and to my 12 year old eyes it looked like a giant steamroller.

I quickly grabbed my gear, ran to my bike and started pedaling for everything I was worth.

This post was submitted by Steven Casper.