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My favorite times are when I can help someone who really needs help.  It makes me feel so worthwhile.  As an author, writing stories that cause my readers to feel emotion is thrilling for me.  Please let me know if you especially enjoy one of my stories in the Blog section.

I am a cowgirl from way back and still am.  That world will always be my favorite.  To this day, I surround my self with beautiful horses.  Music, riding rodeos, herding cattle, shrimping and raising 4H animals were the things I loved most growing up.  Pete and Repete were my two favorite Hampshire lambs.  They were wethers  which, in the sheep world, is the same as a steer in the cattle world.  Never again would I let myself care about an animal doomed for slaughter.  My last project was Armieda of Golden Acres, an Angus bull calf whose grandfather came to the United States from Scotland.  He was exceptional and weighed 500 pounds at 6 months.  He won Grand Champion in the Calcasieu Cameron Fair and third place at the Louisiana State Fair in Shreveport.  He would have done better in state, but he was alone in Shreveport for two days before I was able to get there.  They said he would not eat or drink without me.  Once I arrived he was fine, but it was too late by then.  The show was the very next day.

I was also in Camp Fire Girls and played the violin.  Jo found a second-hand violin when our school started an orchestra program. The school orchestra was a huge success and soon the Parish formed an orchestra.  I played mid violin in the first Youth Orchestra concert held at McNeese State University.  That reminds me of a very funny story about the concert and of course, the babies make it hilarious.  I think I’ll include it in my next story. Eventually, I got to play first chair violinist for the Lake Charles Civic Symphony.

The most beautiful horse I ever owned was a quarter horse off the King Ranch in Texas.  I got him from my sister’s in-laws.  They had a room dedicated only to the trophies he had won.  I traded my violin, which was an antique by then, and she hung it on her wall.

I wanted to be an Operator like Buddy when I grew up.  In my job interview they asked me why I wanted the job and that is what I told them.  They hired me, educated me and paid me well for close to 30 years.

I have three children, two sons and a daughter, that delighted me with four grandchildren.

After being diagnosed with narcolepsy in March of 2011 and not able to do my job safely, I decided to go into Internet Marketing from home.  I have always loved people and this is the perfect occupation for meeting people from all over the world.  I believe Jehovah God wants all of us to have everything we need in abundance and I intend on helping everyone I meet find the way.  Do you know that Jehovah is the only name that has only been used by God?

Recently, I joined the ProElite Community and I am continuously becoming the person God wants me to be.  I joined Pro because my goal in the community is exactly what God has promised us.  God said, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”   Even though I always believed these holy words, I never really understood, until someone in our mastermind group said, “We have to be the person, do the action, to have the life we want.” Now I understand and I want to spread the word so that others may understand also.

As an entrepreneur, I am debt free and my son, who has cerebral palsy, will not have to rely on government aid for much longer.  I am building him an empire where he will have everything he needs or desires.

As a member of Pro U I am able to travel to exotic places all over the world.  In just 7 months of membership, they have provided activities in Las Vegas, Atlantis, Bahamas and in April I am going to Costa Rica.

I love the outdoors and most outdoor sports. There is nothing that compares to catching a three-pound speckled trout in Big Lake or a white perch in the interstate pond out back.  I can’t wait to snorkel in Costa Rica.

This is one of my favorite stories by the famous author, Oyea Kendali, my Ghost Writer.  Anyone out there old enough to remember these days?

 Scarelementary School

Here’s a “picture” from a child’s perspective, of life in the Deep South in the late 1950’s.  As a fourth-grader at Oak Park Elementary School, I was transfused with a fear that to this very day has been the most frightful experience of my life.  Chennault Military Air Force Base, in Lake Charles, Louisiana, along with “government scare tactics,” was largely responsible for filling this little boy’s (along with many other boy’s and girl’s) heart and mind with the most chilling and morbid pictures of just how my life was to come to a fiery, nuclear end.

All of a sudden, the men in the “dark suits”, and the military “regalia”, deemed it critically necessary to inform us of impending doom originating from the South…around Cuba way….We were told that Chennault Military Base would be the number one target of Russian Nuclear Missiles that would be launched from Cuba.  It was never a matter of “if,” but rather “when” this world-ending strike would take place.  Along with the news of our certain demise, there were instituted new rules and regulations to deal with “The Event.”

It became mandatory that all students wear military style “dog tags” to school. You can see our dog tags in the video below.

If you arrived at class without yours, you were sent immediately home to fetch them up. The tags contained such info as name, address, date of birth, and religious preference.  To address this, there was a “P” for Protestant or a “C” for Catholic.  As a joke, we would refer to one another as a Poodle or a Collie, based upon your religious moniker.  We had no Jewish classmates, so there was no dog to go with J.  The teachers were very adept at explaining that these dog tags could withstand temperatures of 1,000 degrees, so that our remains could be identified, if there were any people left after the “big boom.”  Here is another video of us roller skating with dog tags on.

Day after day, the streets were filled with grim-faced military personnel; riding from who knows where to who knows where on their grey colored Vespa Durkopp Diana motor-scooters.  We always wondered what they were thinking, and what sinister activities could they be up to.  My Uncle Don was one of the “air-dales,” and he was always pale and silent.  These SOLDIERS had their own housing project of little “cracker-boxes” on the south side of town.  Most are still standing today, and can be had for a “song and a dance.” They look so drab and foreboding now….the “haunts of the doom-Sayers and ne’re-do-wells.”

Jets on maneuvers would fly very low over our town, day and night. Night-time was the most frightening….right over the rooftops, they would scream and roar, frequently followed by ground-shaking sonic booms…were they “THEIR’S OR OURS?”  Were their missiles launched?  Daytime bomb drills were the rule during the week.  An ear-piercing siren would signify the drill…or was it a drill?  We were never sure; and what you did was crawl under your desk and cover your head and eyes with your arms. Wow, what a great defense against nuclear weapons!  Presently, the siren would sound again, signifying “all clear.”  Okay class, back to work!  Why did we continue to pursue our future in education, when we knew that we had no future at all?

Other strange occurrences happened on a regular basis. One bright, sun-shiny morning, we were playing at recess when the sky became very dark, and the air smelled metallic.  As we looked skyward, we beheld millions of streamers of aluminum foil falling from the darkened sky.  They fell from the sky and completely covered our school ground.  We were told later that the military was working on ways to jam enemy radar.  And speaking of radar, there was an installation out on Highway 14 south of town.  One of the radar scopes continually moved up and down and made a terrible clicking sound, while the other spun madly in a never-ending circle, making a sound like the wailing of a banshee.  They were made of metal, but we figured they were capable of thought.  They had to have something to do with the military.

Our next-door neighbor was an “Air-Dale.”  He was very quiet and reclusive after his wife and child left him during mysterious circumstances.  Were they told to go?  Made to leave by the Military?  We felt badly for him, because back in those days we knew nothing of broken families and divorce.  The neighborhood snoop went searching for him one day in July, and entered his home through a window.  Inside, he found the airman….he had piled newspapers around the lit space heaters in the living area….he had also slit his wrists and throat.  Blood was found on the telephone receiver as though he had tried to call for help….The grey military ambulance came quietly to retrieve his remains, as the entire neighborhood stood silently watching and wondering.

Then one bright and sun-shiny day, the ominous fog of fear lifted.  The Military Base closed in 1960, and all of the Military Personnel were just GONE.  All of a sudden, the horrible Russians and their Nuclear Arsenal were no longer of any concern to us.  All that was left was an empty military air force base, and an empty housing project.  I don’t know how they knew when we had become “safe,” but they knew.  I wonder if there were “Black Suits” in Russia that frightened the life out of the children, with horrible tales of nuclear bombs coming up from the south.  Be at peace, all o’ GOD’S Chilluns……..I pray.

And now a word from our sponsor, SALEM CIGARETTES; “Take a puff, its springtime”…luckily they’re using the new “high-verocity” paper, which can actually draw in ambient air to cool the smoke, so it’s never too hot….only pure tobacco taste and satisfaction, I say.

Oyea Kendali, Author