This Country Needs More Picnics

Mom standing in front of her beloved Buffalo River

   My sister and I have October birthdays and a few years ago we started going on what we refer to as a "big birthday adventure."  We pick a place that we haven't been to or visit a place that holds significance to us and spend the day just having fun.  Last year we added my husband, our mom, our brother and sister-in-law to the adventure.  Last year we drove to a neighboring county, located a cemetery and the grave of our paternal great-great grandfather.  We packed a picnic lunch and had dinner "on the ground." We decided that we would continue this tradition and we came to the conclusion that this country needs to slow down, spend more time with family and have more picnics.
   This year we chose to go to a place that is special to our mom and it also holds a lot of childhood

Mom, my brother, Bruce, my sister, Judith, and me

memories for us kids.  My mom grew up on the lower end of Buffalo River, now the National Buffalo River.  Like many of the families from this area during that time they lived in different houses up and down a stretch of the river from Rush to Cedar Creek.  Mom said that sometimes the river would get in the houses and people would have to move or sometimes the houses were just not inhabitable and the family would have to move.  She told of a family that lived in the area whose house had a dirt floor.  Mom lived with her grandparents, Jim and Molly Brantley.  When she was very young they lived at what is called Cedar Creek.  That is where she went to her first year of school.  The old one room school house is no longer there but a portion of the rock fence still stands.  They lived for a time across the river and to get to school she rode in a boat.  Her teacher, who was boarding with a family who lived across the river, would bring Mom and another child across in a boat.  Mom didn't go the entire term because of the difficulty of getting to school. 
   Years later after Mom and Dad married, they only lived a few miles from Cedar Creek. When we were kids they would take us to the river on Sunday afternoons to swim, play, and have a picnic dinner.  See my blog "Back in the Hills" for more about that
   Today was a very emotional trip for Mom.  The landscape has changed due to flooding and time and she couldn't recognize some of the places.  She gets emotional just talking about life on the river.  I think anyone who grew up on the Buffalo has a deep sentiment for the river and the river way of life.

We used to camp on the gravel bar on the far side of the river.

   We looked around for what was familiar, shared our memories, and took a lot of pictures.  We had our picnic of typical southern fare; fried chicken, pimento cheese sandwiches, potato salad, baked beans and apple spice cake.  Mom was busy filling her plate when a bird flew over and pooped on her head and her plate!  My sister and I got hysterical laughing about it.  There's never a dull moment when we get together.
   I hope we can keep this tradition going in the years to come. During the entire time that we were on our "big birthday adventure" there were no worries and no talk of problems.  We were just a family spending a Sunday afternoon together.
   I think we can all agree that this country needs more picnics.

Victimized By A Stalker

   This is a story that I have never shared.  There are only a handful of people that know it.  I don't know why but I have been embarrassed about it - I felt that I had caused it to happen.  That's a typical victim statement and I know better.  I have been the victim of a stalker.   The reason that I am talking about this now, 30 years later, is because I was recently stalked again - this time on social media.

   I had never set my Instagram to private.  I only share food and knitting pics so it never occurred to me to do so.   A lot of people follow me and most have shared interests. Earlier this week I noticed an excessive amount of likes and that a man had begun following me that seemingly had no shared interests.  He went back years hitting like on my pics.  That sent up a red flag THEN I got a private message from him.  Nothing threatening but it said "Good evening."  Why would he do that?  I panicked and texted my daughter, who advised me on how to set my profile to private and block this person.  I did this but it brought back memories of a stalker from back in the 80's that I had tried to put out of my thoughts.

   It all began with a phone call at my work.  This breathy male voice told me that he had never done anything like this before but he couldn't help himself.  He told me that he had seen me at the ball park and was attracted to me.  He said that he hadn't known my name or anything about me but he said that he had asked around and gotten my name and information about where I worked.  Back then we all had landlines and unless you had an unlisted phone number anyone could call you.  This was also before the days of caller ID. 

   This began a two year harrowing ordeal.  He would call my work and my home.  He never threatened but would tell me that he was obsessed with me and eventually told me that he loved me.  I know that he watched me because he would tell me where he had seen me, what I was wearing, describe who I was with.  It was terrifying.  One of the scariest moments was when he told me about seeing my kids and me in a grocery store in a town 15 miles away.  This prompted me to go to our local sheriff's office to see what could be done.  Since he hadn't made threats of any sort they just deemed it as harassment and basically told me he would eventually quit.  They said it was probably someone I knew playing pranks.  It continued for months.  I missed work one day due to illness.  My phone rang and it was him.  He said, "Why are you not at work today?"  I asked him how he knew that, thinking he had called my work.  He said, "I just drove by your house and your car is under the carport."  As sick as I was that day I called the sheriff's office and ask them to send an officer to my house.  At this point they took me seriously.  They ordered the phone company to put a "tracer" on my line.  They told me that I would have to keep him on the line for several minutes.  It took a few more phone calls but they finally were able to trace the number.  It went to an auto mechanic garage in a neighboring town.  A deputy made a visit to the garage but there were several employees and none admitted to the phone call.  But...this ended the calls.  I still lived in fear that something would happen and shortly afterwards I sold my house and moved away. 

I got these stats from Safe Horizon:  

 Nationally, 7.5 million people are stalked every year.

Approximately 1 in 6 women and 1 in 19 men have experienced stalking at some point in their lifetime.

   Stalking can happen to anyone.  I encourage anyone who is a victim of stalking to reach out for help.  Don't allow anyone to tell you that it's just a prank or it's not serious.  There is no "typical" victim and you did nothing to provoke it.  If I could go back to that time I would have pressed harder and told more people.  Maybe it would not have gone on for two years.  
 

I got his information from End Stalking In America, Inc.

The following list of the most common mistakes that stalking victims make has been taken from Understanding and Surviving America's Stalking Epidemic, a ground breaking special report by Linden Gross that teaches you how to avoid those life-threatening errors that too many other victims have made.

Not listening to your intuition.

You need to keep your internal radar tuned to pick up signals that something might be wrong.

Letting someone down easy, instead of saying a defintive NO if you're not interested in the relationship.

Trying to be nice can lead a potentially obsessive suitor to hear what he or she wants instead of the message that you're not interested.

Ignoring the early warning signs

that annoying attention might escalate into dangerous harassment and pursuit.

Responding to a stalker in any way, shape, or form.

This means not acceding to your stalkers demands even once he or she has introduced threats.

Trying to reason or bargain with a stalker.

Stalking is like a long rape.  Your natural reactions almost automatically put you at a disadvantage.

Seeking a restraining or protective order.

All too often, this one act propels stalkers to act violently.   Still tempted to get that piece of paper?

Expecting police to solve your problem and make it go away.

Even the Los Angeles Police Department's Threat Management Unit says that victims have to take 100% responsibility for their dealing with the situation.

Taking inadequate privacy and safety precautions.

Neglecting to enlist the support of family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, therapists and other victims.

It may be tough to admit that you're being stalked, but it's not your fault.

Ignoring emotional needs during and after a stalking.

Please take it seriously.  Your life could depend on it.

"Write it down in a notebook and we will talk about it in the car"

 

One of Ryan's notebooks that he kept in college.

  I grew up in a family of writers - not professional writers - just a family that valued putting pen to paper.  My mom kept a journal of every vacation that she and my dad took.  In later years she has written and co-written four books about growing up in Rush, AR and has a fifth book in the works.  My paternal grandmother, Granny Ott, wrote down everything and I mean everything.  We kids were encouraged to write.  We were given diaries and journals as gifts and while many of my first diaries were childish,  I loved to write down my thoughts.

   One thing I have learned from journaling is this; it will keep you from shooting your mouth off when you should keep it closed.  I have written about my anger, my fears, and worries or even just small misunderstandings.  I get it out of my system.  Later I go back and reread it. Sometimes it seems that whatever has upset me is so silly and I am glad that I never talked to anyone about it.  Other times the feelings are still there and I might feel compelled to talk to the person about it.  I haven't always adhered to my own advice to write things down before acting but lately I am trying to do so.

   When my kids were growing up I kept two small spiral notebooks in my purse.  If we were in a public  setting and they wanted to talk about something or someone I would hand them their notebook and a pen and say, "Write it in your notebook and we will talk about it in the car."  It seems like this most often happened at church.  They would scribble away in their notebooks and on the drive home and during our lunch I would listen to what was on their minds.  It has always been a running joke with us if we are out in public and see something "strange."  We will laugh and say, "Write it down in your notebook and we will talk about it in the car."

   My kids grew up to journal. I don't know if it was due to the spiral notebooks or just genetic.  Misty writes beautiful, poignant, and also humorous blogs.  Ryan journaled on his laptop.  After he passed away it was both comforting and troubling to read his thoughts. While it seemed like an invasion of his privacy it was heartwarming to find his thoughts on his love for his family.  Ryan was a songwriter and he kept notes about ideas and thoughts.  I still have a few of the kids spiral notebooks and they are important to me.  I encourage everyone to journal.  You never know when those journals will become something invaluable to you.

   Several years ago I felt compelled to blog.  I enjoyed sharing random thoughts with others.  It didn't become personal until we lost Ryan.  For a year or more I poured my grief out publicly.  I had to have an outlet.  Many grieving families found me through my blogs and we shared our grief and gave support to each other.  I lost "friends" over my grief blogs; "too depressing,"  "go to counseling."  But this I know - it's easy to be critical behind the safety of the internet.  In a face to face situation it's not so easy and there are some who should have "written their thoughts down in a notebook." 

   I am trying to return to more light hearted blogs. I have had a sudden interest in some of my older blogs about rural life and growing up country.  I think we are living in a time of fear and uncertainty.  Reading blogs about the "good ol' days" takes us back to a time when life wasn't so worrisome.

   A few of my friends have begun their own blogs.  I encourage them to write and I am anxious to read their stories.  I think it would be fun to pick a neighborhood - any neighborhood - and go door to door and ask them to tell you their favorite story.  What wonderful blogs or even a small book that would make.

   I leave you with this.  Don't be afraid to write.  Once the words start they will flow easily.