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scriptexecution · 3 years

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Sample Pages from the Novel Expert Witness, by Mark Pumphrey

Chapter 24: Jean-Luc as a Child

Born in Alsace near the Maginot Line, Jean-Luc's playgrounds as a child had been the abandoned bunkers. The earthen labyrinths made a perfect setting for the Wild West, and Jean-Luc and his friends played not soldiers, but cowboys and Indians.

The bunkers should have been dank and deep barren crypts for all that had played out in them so many years ago. But they were not. No, the bunkers were now verdant and teeming with life. The old exploded tank was now home to a menagerie of plants and wildlife, even a roost for the storks on their return to Strasbourg each year. Even the bullet casings were full of dirt, full of living microscopic organisms.

So much death giving rise to so much life.

____________

When Jean-Luc was ten years old, he would come home from school, grab an alarm clock and go out to find his friends to play. The alarm clock was necessary because when it rang, it meant he had to leave for home to start the fire in the woodstove and start supper until his mother got home.

His mother was a housekeeper and washerwoman. His father was a bank carrier by day and a popular drunk at the local bar by night. Mother was a hellion. She ruled. But she also struggled to hold her head up high, having been divorced in shame from her German husband for getting pregnant while he was off fighting in World War Two. She did not marry Jean-Luc's father until after two more children were born. Rather than bear the contempt of her husband's family, she became intentionally offensive not just to them, but to everyone. She had her pride.

She had wanted to be a singer of operettas. She became a maid. She was bitter and she hated her alcoholic husband, who she forbade the children to speak to and who she relegated to eat alone in the kitchen each night. But she had made it her badge of honor to work hard and put good food on the table. Jean-Luc's sister was sickly, so his mother depended on him, at age ten, to be the man his father could not be.

That went on for about ten years. Jean-Luc turned over his paycheck to his mother. She would not allow him to buy a car. She controlled his every move. The alarm clock was still ringing in his head as he entered adulthood.

He had met a girl. They had decided to marry and to move to the United States.

His mother had said,

"I'll kill myself if you leave."

Jean-Luc had looked at her and said,

"Would you like for me to buy the gun?"

And as he had left, he had slammed the door on his old life, had put it behind him, and had found his way to the New World, where he had been ever since. Every hellish thing that had happened to the young man had shaped him. The four hundred blows were the foundation of Jean-Luc's life.

The young man, battered by life, had escaped to a rocky, windy shore, where he looked up at the stormy sky with his head held high, and with a transcendent lightness of being, had then cast his eyes upon the ocean that would take him far away. Into a future free of all that had bound him, independent, he stood strong and gazed into an unpredictable but self-determined future.

His face was hopeful, his eyes were awake with new awareness. Life would no longer be about what happens to him, a ringing alarm clock. From that moment on life would be about what he made of it, through self-determination.

Jean-Luc's story had no end. The revelatory moment at the seashore was only the beginning of the young man's journey toward finding his own true authentic self. The journey would be long. It would take a lifetime to complete. But the young man had been ready to take the first step, buoyed by the fresh insight that what his life became was up to him, and no one else.

Chapter 25: Reunited

Paul and Jean-Luc had had letters cross in the mail after two years of no communication. Jean-Luc read Paul's letter with mounting pleasure:

"Dear Jean-Luc,

Even as a little kid I was sexual.

While other boys were dreaming about

planes and trains science projects, I was

thinking about how close I could get to the

boy lying next to me without waking him up. I have been a

lifelong seducer of men. A casual flirt. And yet, a complete

paradox, as ninety percent of the dirty little scenarios I have

imagined have never actually become a reality.

People tell me that I have a vivid imagination. They do not

know the half of it. Constrained by life in a small rural town in

Kentucky where I literally did not know a single other man or

boy who shared my desire; constrained by a stupid religious

denomination that insisted that I would be damned to Hell for

even thinking about having sex with another man;

constrained by a family-mother, father, three older brothers

who all let me know clearly from early on that I was different,

that they did not love that I was different, and that unless I

conformed to the family way I would be out, I stumbled into

middle age safely on the shelf, with no experience at all and a

loneliness that could only be relieved through overeating

and other forms of self-abuse, temporary fixes that had to

repeated over and over before there could be any relief at all.

Jean-Luc, it was very painful to give up all my self-

imposed boundaries and pretenses at the age of thirty-seven

I met you. It was hard to lose everything that had been my life.

But I have no regrets. It had to happen. I have been reborn, j

just like the Baptists I have left behind, at the age of thirty-

seven. And my second life has been every happy thing that

my old life was missing. That we are not together is also

painful. But I would not exchange my brief time with you for

anything in the world.

Your friend,

Paul

Soon after the exchange of letters, Paul and Jean-Luc started dating again. A few months later, Paul gave up his job at the South Carolina State Library to move to Asheville, North Carolina to begin his new life with Jean-Luc.

Chapter 26: Paul as a Child

It was the house my father built when I was a baby still in my mother's womb. We lived there until I was nearly nine years of age but then moved practically overnight from my child's perspective to a new town and a new life. No one ever explained the move to me, and I never realized until now that the move was all because of me.

It was a great house. The inspector had rated both the construction and the structural stability as excellent. My father prided himself in doing everything himself and he was a perfectionist.

I was unfortunately never alone in the house. My earliest memory is of waking up, moving from my bed to the living room couch, looking out from behind the venetian blinds, realizing that I was totally alone and disconnected in the house.

Something moved inside of me in that moment, and that is, I think, how it started. From that day forward, I could not go to bed at night unless the light was left on. I was afraid of the window my bed was pushed up against. I slept with my head face down in the crack between the bed and the wall. I had horrible dreams. I was afraid of the attic particularly and the crawl space in the half-basement that was dark and deep.

More than anything else, though I have an excellent memory of many things, there are whole blocks of time from my early life that are blank. I remember nothing at all from those times.

An unmarried older woman bought the house from the family and lived in the house quietly and alone for the next twenty years before her death. She was a meticulous house owner and the house was kept in perfect order for all of those years.

Recently I became curious about the house. I found photos of it for sale on the Internet. It seems a series of families with small children had lived in the house since the woman had died. But none of these families stayed in the house for long. And I noticed that the value of the house had plummeted for the past decade, its last for sale price being $26,000. And no one would buy it.

Then I saw why. In the photos, in my bedroom, just over my bed, a great gaping hole had formed, with insulation and planks hanging down into the room, as if exploded. But the rest of the room was perfectly kept.

And in the living room, where the couch had been, another long rend of falling plaster, insulation and planks was seen above, as if ripped apart. But no water damage was seen on the floor, and nothing else was amiss in the room.

My parents had never told me why we moved, and I had never understood-until now, seeing those unnatural eruptions in that otherwise pleasant little house.

------------------

You were a teacher, but you never taught me anything, except that one time when we were at a rest stop and you were getting impatient waiting for me to pee.

"Say 'pee-pee.' Say 'pee pee."

I did, and it worked. Still does.

But beyond that, nothing. Who were you? What did you think? How did you feel? I have no idea.

Did you know that it was unsafe to let me ride standing up in the bed of the farm truck, letting the wind hit my face in the way you knew I loved, wanting me to be happy?

Or was it hate? Hoping that there would be an accident that would put an end to the agitation because of my existence that you could not shake from your otherwise respectable life? I do not know.

Did you respect me and fear me because I refused to be a corn pone kind of farm boy that you were so fond of?

Or did you feel contempt for me because you had to cover for my inability to do things with my hands by explaining to those who noticed that I was "the baby." I do not know.

Why did you watch me struggling to learn to do things, saying nothing as I made mistakes, and then deconstruct I everything I did wrong after the fact, always careful to begin each sentence with "You should have..." I do not know.

Why did you never reveal yourself to me, let down your guard, speak intimately with me, your son? I do not know.

Why were you so afraid to show me your weaknesses as well as your strengths? I do not know.

Why did you compete so fiercely with your own sons on everything, and really want to win each time? I do not know.

I accept all that happened and all that could have happened but did not, and I accept you. But I will always wonder why.

The only thing I know for certain after much thought over many years is that this was not about me at all. It was about you.

I am sorry that I was not smart enough as a child to understand that while there was still time to help you and to understand you, instead of rebelling and making it all harder for you than it had to be.

______________

My inner child lived in my mind, not in me. But I watched my inner child enough over the years to know what made it feel happy and loved, and it was this: when the outside, exterior world complied in ways to make my inner child feel happy and loved.

Since the outside, exterior world does whatever it wants, whether I am watching it or not, it was my mind's job to struggle with the outside world and to train all the exterior things to give my inner child what it wanted: a comfortable bed, a lap, a warm fire, the soothing voice of an adult to comfort it when it fell down and became upset by a scrapped knee.

The problem my mind had with making sure that my inner child felt secure and happy was that, from moment to moment, the exterior world changed, the earth moved around the sun, and out of the seventy-six billion trillion moments that occurred somewhere each moment in the outer world, the one moment that presented itself before my inner child was never the same for more than a moment.

A new voice had to be trained to be soothing, a new lap had to be found, a new bed and a new fire were required time and time again.

I became worn out by all the repetition. It finally gave way and replaced my inner child with an inner adult who could heal his own wounds, make his own comfortable bed.

But my inner adult is still not me. I was not my inner child and I am not my inner adult. They are both creations of my mind, not me. I am only the watcher, the one who only sees, only observes without judgment, only engages with the one moment that is playing out before me in each moment of time. I am the one whose only job is to make this moment the best it can be.

____________

I was fifteen, and it was the year of indescribable joy. The year of letting go of striving and accepting myself exactly as I was, and other people exactly as they were; of letting go of judgment of myself and of other people; of letting go of language as my master, learning to control it instead of allowing it to control me.

At twenty, at twenty-five, at thirty, at thirty-five, I have reflected on how it would have been for me if I had stuck it out. If there were a second time, the only change would be that this time there would be no Bible, but just the drowning into complete transcendence.

Afraid, I returned to earth and normalcy, before it was too late. And now, twenty-three years later, it feels like it is too late to blast off again and fly on the wings of joyous abnormality.

I wondered what had ever happened to you. I would have been better off not to know. The last time I saw you was during my last year in my reluctant role as Junior Assistant Scoutmaster of our troop. The adults had pushed me into a leadership role I never really wanted and even put off for a year, saying I was not ready to become responsible for the other boys. Yet there we were, during a week of summer camping on the edge of Lake Cumberland. You were golden-haired and three years younger than me. I liked you because you were smiling, agreeable, almost complacent-easy.

The other boys had gone back to camp to change out of their swimming trunks to get ready for dinner. You stayed behind and joined me as I sprawled out on the rocky bank of the cove. For you, it was hero worship. For me it was something more. But if it had not been you it would have been one of the other boys. Funny to find out years later that the little clown in the troop turned out to be the only boy like me. Who knew?

I was all too close to a tumble into a huge, gaping mistake as you laid there on the bank beside me, silent but attentive. I thought better of it, and we returned to camp as the sun set over the lake.

That night at dinner, in tennis shoes, I retrieved the plastic plates that had been missed during the dishwashing in big metal buckets. Forgetting that I was stepping into still boiling hot water that had just been dumped, I scalded both feet and I was rushed to the hospital. That was the last of my week as your hero and the last time I ever saw you. Damn the Internet. I searched for your name and there you were: a builder and apartment complex owner in another town, on trial for negligence in the death of a young boy who drowned when he was swept down into a culvert in rushing water because you had knowingly and illegally built a drainage system that was not up to safety codes.

All those years ago, I saw your golden hair. I saw your brilliant smile. I saw your worship of me. Why had I not seen the depth of your deep-seated complacency and indifference toward the protection to all human life?

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david-brodosi · 5 years

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biofunmy · 5 years

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Seeing What the Fighting Is All About on Alaska’s Coastal Plain

Up in the right-hand corner of Alaska, like something freezer-burned and half-remembered in the back of the national icebox, lies a place called the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge is the largest wildlife sanctuary in the United States. It is the size of South Carolina. It is also home to the country’s second-largest wilderness area. It has no roads, no marked trails, no developed campgrounds. The Coastal Plain, the narrow strip where the refuge meets the sea, is home to more diversity of life than almost anywhere else in the Arctic. It is the kind of place where you can pull back the tent flap with a mug of coffee in hand, as I did one morning in June, and watch a thousand caribou trot past.

The animals came slowly at first, by twos and by threes, and tentatively, lifting their black noses to catch the strange scent of 10 unbathed campers. Then they tacked across the river. Near the front was a bull with a rack big enough to place-kick a football through its uprights. Mostly they were females in dun coats, serious mothers leading coltish calves that slid and played on the snowfields that still collared the tundra’s low places. Ungainly in looks, but a natural for work — each hoof a snowshoe, with hollow fur for warmth and to buoy them across gelid Arctic rivers. The calves had been born three or four days ago. Already they could walk farther in a day than a human.

The few caribou became dozens. They materialized by the hundred out of the heat-shimmer that rose off the tundra, like those lawmen bringing hot justice in old Sergio Leone films. Confident in their numbers, they surged past the encampment, urged by some twitch in the marrow to keep pushing toward the coast where ocean breezes would scatter the mosquitoes and bot flies that soon would torment them. We watched for a long time, not wanting to move and disturb anything.

“This,” someone whispered, “is sacred.”

In late 2017, a Congress controlled by Republicans badly wanted to pass the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act. To help win the crucial vote of Lisa Murkowski, the senior Republican senator from Alaska, the Senate added a sweetener, a provision that opened to oil drilling the refuge’s Coastal Plain, a roughly Delaware-size piece of ground where the Brooks Range reclines and the tundra tilts toward the Arctic Ocean like the baize of an old pool table.

Most of the country thinks that’s wrongheaded. Seventy percent of American voters oppose drilling on the refuge, a survey by Yale University’s Center on Climate Change Communication found at the time. They don’t want oil drilling where these calves had just been born, and where they now walked, and where wolf and bear and wolverine stalk them, and where threatened polar bears find respite in a melting world, and where more than 200 species of birds have been recorded, including many that brighten your day in the Lower 48, from the tundra swans that head to the Chesapeake, to the mallards that hunters stalk in Arkansas.

Fights such as the one over the refuge are, for most of us, abstractions — tussles over lines on a map of a place we will never see, and will never know. I was tired of this. I wanted to see this place. I wanted to see what we still have, and what we are willing to gamble, for money and for oil.

Getting on Arctic time

North of Fairbanks, the country seems to get bigger and the planes get smaller. Our four-seater arrows north, into the Brooks Range. The pilot finds a notch between mountains and sets us down on a cobbled bar beside water that’s the scuffed green of a dime-store gemstone: the Hulahula River. We transfer to a second plane, smaller still, that swoops down and deposits us downstream. We are 10, in all — a lawyer and his son, a retired teacher, retired doctors and avid birders, Libby and Victor — all here for nine days to float the river for about 90 miles on its course through the Coastal Plain, until, exhausted, the river empties itself into the Beaufort Sea.

But first, mountains. We set up camp in a great scoop of valley and wander, dazed at the sudden change of scenery after Fairbanks. The Brooks Range in summer disorients the newcomer: The rivers run north. The sun seems to rise there, too, after “setting” briefly behind the peaks each night. So far north, the mountains wear no trees at all, but instead are stripped bare, showing off the veinwork of their naked flanks. They are not so bare as they seem. What lives here grows low — lichen, moss campion in purple pillows and Arctic poppies whose dish-flowers track the sun.

The lead guide with the outfitter Arctic Wild, Andrew George, is 39 and from Dallas, but has more Alaska in him than most Alaskans born here. Each summer he runs a fish wheel on the Yukon River with his wife to cache and smoke salmon for winter, when he runs trap lines with his dog team. On his last job, he says, he was paid in gold.

At dinner Mr. George has a message for us. “We’re going to be on Arctic time,” he says. “We’ll eat when we’re hungry. Hike when we want to. Move when we got to move.”

Paddling north

By mid-June the Hulahula River, named by whalers after the Hawaiian dance, is not a deep river nor does it usually pose, for the experienced boater, exceptional challenges. But it is fast and its waters are a life-taking cold. The night before shoving off, the nervous and the curious among us pass around topographic maps of the week’s route, marked in esoteric shorthand with the accumulated wisdom of past guides.

“Class IV scout + portage if necessary run at high water”

“Big haystacks”

“Run Right”

“Tight + Rocky”

“Lots of Aufeis”

“Wolves?”

All we really need to know, though, is to paddle north. To the plain.

The next morning, Patrick Henderson — assistant guide, expert boater and a great chef — whips up Spam musubi, an Hawaiian snack of grilled Spam atop a neat brick of rice, wrapped in nori. We wrestle into drysuits. The guides cinch hard on the straps of life preservers. (“You can’t drown if you can’t breathe!”) We push off in a cold spitting rain, drifting over quick green water. Restive with its course, the river chews at its banks, sending clumps of wildflowers into the water.

Mr. Henderson rams our raft into the shore and motions for quiet. Two football fields distant stands a musk ox, chewing on grass. We pile out to snap photos. The ox turns. Stamps. Nothing says “get back in the boat” like a 600-pound bovid covering ground, fast.

We drift on. There are caribou tracks on the shore, and wolf tracks that follow the caribou tracks.

“What time is it?” somebody asks.

“The time is now,” Mr. George replies.

We drift and paddle and drift more. Faced with the unceasing light of an Arctic June, time loses shape. The tyranny of the alarm clock is replaced by a fainter pulse, usually lost to us nowadays: the rhythm of natural places. We eat later and later, and take meandering walks in the convalescent light of midnight.

One night after spaghetti, Mr. George suggests that, with the weather so fair, we break camp and paddle all night, out of the mountains and into the foothills. A few hours later, Dall sheep watch us splash through rapids from the grandstand of canyon walls. A moose startles. The sun drops behind those walls. The world, and lips, turn a shivery blue. Finally, the mountains release the river. The sun splashes us with caramel light and reviving warmth. “Morning is a place around here,” one of the guides says. We pull to shore at Old Man Creek, where the guides cook breakfast hash and we collapse on shore, only waking when the afternoon sun heats the tent.

‘Welcome to the Arctic Plain’

On the seventh morning the last foothills bow out. The land becomes as flat as a tabletop. The final rapid throws a slap of 45-degree water to the cheek. Call it a baptism. “Welcome to the Arctic Plain,” Mr. George says, standing in the stern of our raft like a Mississippi boatman.

So this is what all the fighting is about.

For almost a half-century, the stretch of land between mountains and sea here has been a sanctuary with an asterisk. In 1980, Congress passed the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act, which greatly expanded the original wildlife range; designated most of it as wilderness, off-limits to development; and renamed the whole place the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Congress did not include the 1.57-million-acre Coastal Plain, but directed in Section 1002 that the area continue to be studied. For nearly 50 years a battle has been waged between those who think drilling in the so-called 1002 Area is Alaska’s birthright and can be done well — the oil industry, many of Alaska’s politicians, the native corporations that would see needed funds from drilling — and those who say the place is too valuable for other reasons, and also too wild, to drill.

No one knows how much oil is under this ground. Only one exploratory well was drilled, decades ago, its results a secret. An investigation by The Times found those results disappointing. The federal government’s last estimate was that a mean 7.7 billion barrels of feasibly recoverable oil may lie under the 1002 Area, or the amount of petroleum the United States uses in one year. But opening up the area might also eventually open Native Alaskan areas for drilling, and make adjacent state lands more profitable to drill, if new pipelines and other infrastructure are built.

The 2017 tax law that opened the refuge to potential oil development requires a minimum of two lease sales in the refuge of at least 400,000 acres each. One must be held by the end of 2021, the second by 2024.

But a draft of the required environmental study released earlier this year by the Bureau of Land Management, the author and the agency that oversees drilling on public lands, contained mistakes in basic ecology and didn’t seriously look at climate change’s effect on permafrost. That’s according to nearly 60 pages of corrections and additions to the study that were proposed by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, the agency that manages the refuge. The study even mentions a river that doesn’t exist, pointed out Michael Wald, a co-owner of Arctic Wild. Environmental groups have vowed to challenge the study, and any drilling approval.

Proponents have pitched drilling as a windfall to the United States Treasury — $1.8 billion, by an early White House estimate. But a Times analysis has found it may yield as little as $45 million over the next decade, or less than 3 percent of what’s been sold to the public.

What we do know is the area’s natural value. During the brief, frenetic Arctic summer, millions of waterfowl and shorebirds use the Coastal Plain here before dispersing to every state in the union, and almost every continent. Two dozen of them are birds of “management concern” by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service. Some are in even more trouble.

Even closer to the coast are polar bears, listed as “threatened’’ under the Endangered Species Act. The population of polar bears in the Southern Beaufort Sea has declined 40 percent in recent years, thanks largely to impacts related to its shrinking sea-ice habitat. Now these bears increasingly use the Coastal Plain, where females first raise their newborn cubs.

Steven Amstrup, who for three decades was head of the federal government’s polar bear research program and now is head of Polar Bears International, has urged against energy development here. So have the 200 Alaskan members of the Wildlife Society, a professional group of wildlife biologists and managers.

An unending circuit of caribou

And then there are the caribou. The previous day, from our camp on the boundary of the 1002 Area, we watched as hundreds fed on cottongrass and willow buds. We spent the day stalking them with cameras. They always edged farther away, as if they knew the limits of an amateur’s telephoto lens.

Few Americans probably realize that their nation possesses one of the world’s great migrations. Although there are variations, most years the 218,000 animals of the Porcupine herd of barren-ground caribou move in an unending circuit — from the south side of the Brooks Range; around the eastern and southern side of the mountains; then westward in late spring onto the Coastal Plain to drop their calves. They spend the summer fattening up on tundra plants. Then they reverse course. These caribou are the original commuters. A female will walk 2,700 miles in a year, on average.

The Coastal Plain has all of this — the birds, the bears, the caribou. It is still a place that can say its own name.

A week earlier, we had briefly landed at Arctic Village, a native Gwich’in village outside the refuge’s southern boundary. The Gwich’in are against drilling. The caribou forever have walked past Arctic Village on their circuit, and their meat has fed the Gwich’in, David Smith, the second chief, told me. Where the caribou are born — where the drilling might happen — his people do not even go, he said. “This is kind of where life begins,” he said. “It’s God’s place.”

An energy industry representative told me that oil and caribou can mix, that it has been done before with success elsewhere on the North Slope.

That’s misleading, countered Ken Whitten, who, for many years, was Alaska’s lead state biologist for the Porcupine herd. Yes, caribou inhabit some areas around Prudhoe Bay, where the pipeline begins. But studies around the oil fields have found that pregnant females will avoid development. As development increased, calving caribou were pushed southward where the food wasn’t as nutritious, resulting in the mothers having lower-weight calves.

These problems will likely be exacerbated in the refuge, said Mr. Whitten. A 2002 report by him and others predicted that extensive oil development would probably stop the growth of the herd, and perhaps worse. “We don’t think there’s any way you can have a large oil development on the 1002 and not have adverse effect on caribou.”

Another caribou expert told me that they simply don’t know for certain what will happen when pipelines and drill pads are introduced into a valuable habitat. While some caribou will walk miles to avoid a road, said Lincoln Parrett, regional research coordinator for the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, others have noted that caribou in some places do acclimate to low-density development.

Treeless, flat and far from desolate

Caribou line the shore as our rafts drift onto the plain. They lift their snouts and hunt the air for a memory that tells them whether to run. But they do not run, at first. And we drift close, staring at one another across a moat of ice water.

The sun rides its circuit above camp. The days heat up. June will be the second-warmest June on record in Alaska. In our bags, the chocolate is melting.

Over the next several days we camp and float and camp again, occasionally taking long walks across the lumpy mattress of the tundra.

The Coastal Plain confounds a first-time visitor. It is too big. It is too treeless, too flat. The pancakes at breakfast had more relief. Trying to make sense of things, I head out with Libby and Victor, expert birders. Cast your eyes downward, their actions say. Where there are no trees, the ground is full of life. Scoops in the dirt are a sign that a grizzly bear has rooted out a ground squirrel. A twitch among the tussocks is a buff-breasted sandpiper, flown in from winter vacation in Uruguay.

“There’s a Baird’s!” Libby says, pointing out a Baird’s sandpiper. “That’s the one that winters in the high Andes, after raising its babies here.” It has made a nest for four speckled eggs on a gravel shore of the river. We wonder at the tenacity of having come so far to place such a fragile bet.

“The Arctic Plain is really nothing,” Don Young, Alaska’s representative, said during a 2011 Congressional hearing on the refuge. “It is not the heart. It is the most desolate part of the area.”

‘Desolate!” we say each time a snowy owl lifts off in search of a lemming.

“Nothing here!” we call out to one another as the next herd of caribou shimmers into view. We know better than to chase them, now. And we wait, patiently, for their arrival.

The sun is high. My watch is dead. It is exactly the time it is supposed to be.

Christopher Solomon, a 2019 Alicia Patterson Foundation fellow, was the 2018 Lowell Thomas Travel Writer of the Year.

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addictionrecoveryassistance · 5 years

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Detox Centers In Waiteville West Virginia 24984

Contents

Zip code 24984

Local monroe county fips code

Local area business patterns waiteville

) price (highest

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Waiteville is an unincorporated community in Monroe County, West Virginia, United States. Waiteville is located near the Virginia border southeast of Union. Waiteville had a post office, which closed on July 11, 2009.

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Below is a list of Waiteville WV zip codes. For your research we have also included Waiteville Area Code, Time Zone, UTC and the local monroe county fips code. Each Waiteville West Virginia zip code has a center Longitude / Latitude point (the Waiteville center is -80.422302246094 / 37.473899841309). For your convenience we have also indicated if that zip code in Waiteville observes Daylight Savings time.

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Waiteville, WV Real Estate Insights Waiteville is a city located in West Virginia. Waiteville is very walker-friendly, making it simple to gain the health benefits of commuting in a pleasant, natural way.

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They can work in every type of West Virginia healthcare facility, including private practices, clinics, hospitals and urgent care centers. It is not uncommon for seasoned medical coders in Waiteville to work at home as an independent contractor or offsite employee.

Waiteville, Monroe, West Virginia მდებარეობს შეერთებული შტატები. მისი საფოსტო კოდი 24984. რეგიონში 1 : West Virginia. ქვეყანა : შეერთებული შტატები (US) დააწკაპუნეთ აქ, რომ იყიდოთ შეერთებული შტატები საფოსტო კოდების მონაცემთა ბაზა. რეგიონალური კოდი (ISO…

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istefpayne · 5 years

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I LOVE the Great Smokey Mountains. It is a chameleon landscape—always wearing a different face, or holding a heavy haze, sometimes showing you tree detail, or layers of different colors, and sometimes just one hue... and under those trees in the national park lives so much wildlife, wild rivers, wandering driving roads, and a long history of native Cherokee culture in the Appalachian region. This is called the most visited national park, I think because a major freeway runs through it crossing state lines... but maybe not! With so many gorgeous features, fun adventures to be had there, and its remarkable accessibility, it certainly holds up to its crown-worthy reputation. A park for all ages and sizes and needs and wants... a near perfect place to explore! America’s 23rd National Park, @greatsmokynps in North Carolina/Tennessee, established by the @nationalparkservice on June 15, 1934. 👣 Stay tuned as @jonathan_irish and I count down all 60 of the U.S. national parks in reverse order of establishment, sharing previously untold stories, photos, and video from our epic road trip through all of the U.S. National Parks while on assignment for @natgeo and @fujifilm_northamerica . 🤩 In other good news: BOOK SALE! Our 240-page hardbound coffee table book is 25% OFF through 12/31/18. Use the link in my bio and order through Amazon. No coupon code needed, the discount is already applied. Price is as marked! 💫 #greatsmokymountains #greatsmokies #northcarolina #tennessee #mountains #landscapelife #getoutside #exploremore #naturephotousa #playingoutside #natureisamazing #findyourpark #getoutstayout #roamtheplanet #thevisualgrams #natureaddicts #travelgram — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/2LdUiYy

#Instagram #IFTTT

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michaelpoczynek · 7 years

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86 Dunes View Drive Brackley Prince Edward Island Canada

Brackley Bay, Prince Edward Island, Dream Waterfront Cottage for sale with a spectacular view of the Sand Dunes. Use as your summer home or as a high-end rental/investment property. Your new beach house has three bedrooms, a Hot Tub, and sleeps six.

Located on the favoured north shore of PEI, only 15 minutes from the airport and 20 minutes from Charlottetown. This waterfront, single story, 3 bedroom vacation home sits on 3/4 acre lot with glorious views across Brackley Bay to the National Park.

With easy access to the Bay, which is perfect for kayaking, canoeing, windsurfing or bird watching. Relax and watch the wildlife, Bald Eagles and Osprey. Or enjoy a cool beverage in the 6 person Hot Tub and admire the view.

You may catch a glimpse of the hummingbirds as they feed. 10 golf courses are within 5-30 mins drive. Property management is available. Golf: It is no small feat when Canada’s smallest Province becomes Canada’s #1 Golf Destination and PEI has earned the distinction twice in a row.

Host destination for ‘Big Break’ for 2009 on the Golf Channel. For new and experienced golfers alike, Prince Edward Island offers a golfing experience not to be missed with more than 30 courses to fit every skill level – from scenic nine hole courses to those rated among the top 10 in Canada! Prince Edward Island is blessed with 800 kms (500 miles) of the warmest beaches north of the Carolinas.

Every one of the 90 sandy strips of heaven is unique. Some spill into the ocean with characteristic red sand. Others sparkle white and pink. On some beaches the sand is so fine that it makes a squeaking noise when you step on it, which is why Islanders often refer to it as ‘singing sands’. Children will enjoy the clear waters, making sand castles or sand walls at the waters edge to hold back the waves, while the adults will enjoy walking for hours in bare feet, watching the birds and tracking the tides. Vendor supplied photos to be replaced soon.

Price: $299,900 CDN. (Google Currency Calculator)

(PEIREA MLS ID 201716144)

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Documents:

MLS Cutsheet

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GPS Coordinates:

Latitude: 46.4183083 Longitude: -63.1918755

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Pictures:

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GeoLink Map:

GeoLink Map

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Prince Edward Island Provincial Government Ortho Photo/Aerial view:

Source: http://www.gov.pe.ca/maps/islandinformation.php3

PEI Government Ortho Photo Aerial View

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Google Map: 86 Dunes View Drive Brackley Prince Edward Island Canada

Click to enlarge Google Map of this property.

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Google Earth Aerial View Map:

Click to enlarge Google Map of this property.

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Charlottetown (902)626-6912 | Summerside (902)888-8860

Toll Free 1-888-295-6863 | michaelshomes.com | [email protected]

Marketing your property Socially and Globally®.

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86 Dunes View Drive Brackley Please take the time to share this on Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, and via e-mail. …

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southernscenes · 2 months

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See above. The media options for printing these wall hangings include Canvas wrap with 1-2 inch border, Canvas wrap floated in a wood frame, HD metal and others. See more https://southernscenes.shop/

#South Carolina Photographic Prints #Photo Prints for Sale South Carolina #Custom Photo Prints for Sale South Carolina #Wall Art for Sale South Carolina #Wall Art for Sale in Georgia #Wall Art for Sale in North Carolina #Wall Art for Sale in Florida #Beautiful Photography Prints for Sale South Carolina #Beautiful Photography Prints for Sale Georgia #Beautiful Photography Prints for Sale North Carolina #Beautiful Photography Prints for Sale Florida #Photo Prints for Sale Georgia #Aerial Photos of South Carolina Lowcountry #Drone Aerial Photos of coastal Carolina #Wildlife Photos for Sale South Carolina #Wildlife Photos for Sale Georgia #Wildlife Photos for Sale North Carolina #Wildlife Photos for Sale Florida #Wildlife Prints for Sale South Carolina #Wildlife Prints for Sale Georgia #Wildlife Prints for Sale North Carolina #Wildlife Prints for Sale Florida #Sunrise Photos for Sale South Carolina #Sunset Photos for Sale Georgia

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sdconnection-blog · 7 years

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By Jeff Clemetson | Editor

East County exotic animal sanctuary looks to expand

In 1990, Bobbi Brink was searching through a her local Texas newspaper for used restaurant equipment when another classified listing caught her eye and changed the course of her life.

(l to r) Bakari, an African lion; Maverick, a tiger that used to belong to the rapper Tyga; and Albert, a grizzly bear rescued from Cherokee Bear Park Zoo in North Carolina; are residents of the Lions, Tigers and Bears exotic animals sanctuary in Alpine. (Photos by Jeff Clemetson)

“I kept seeing ads for lions, tigers, leopards for sale and so being the animal lover that I am, I wanted to go see what it was about,” Brink said. “I went to a lady’s house and she lived in a mobile home on 5 acres. She had 30 big cats and babies crawling all over the floor. You could take a lion or a cougar home with no permits, nothing. You could just buy a tiger and take it home.”

It was Brink’s first experience with the exotic animal trade and one that eventually led her to open one of the most respected wild animal sanctuaries in the country: Lions, Tigers and Bears located in the Alpine in eastern San Diego County.

Brink has no formal training in zoo keeping or veterinarian work but she has been working hands-on with wild animals since 1990, starting with volunteering for that lady in Texas who bred big cats from her mobile home.

“At first I had no clue, because I didn’t know what she was doing was wrong for like the first three months I was there — but then you quickly start seeing [abuse],” she said.

For example, she said, breeders keep pairs in small enclosures. When the babies are born and their eyes open at eight days old, they yank them from the mother to bring the female back into heat. A tiger will breed every 105, 110 days this way but in the wild, they only breed once every two years.

“They’re continuous breeding machines that make them money and they don’t care who they sell to,” Brink said. “They also intermix the species so they’ll breed lions to tigers, which doesn’t happen in the wild and it’s just sad.”

Lions, Tigers and Bears rescues more than just its namesake animals. Conga, a leopard, is one of 17 species found at the sanctuary. (Photo by Jeff Clemetson)

Lions, Tigers and Bears (LTB) was founded shortly after Bobbi and her husband Mark Brink bought the Alpine ranch in 2003. The first animals they brought there were two tigers named Raja and Natasha who were rescued from a Texas man who bought the cats as a birthday present for his wife.

He never built them a proper habitat because the couple divorced. After several visits from authorities, the man told U.S. Fish and Wildlife that he was going to shoot the tigers but instead was convinced to give Brink 30 days to relocate them from his home in Texas to her new property in Alpine.

Today, LTB is home to 60 animals, “every single one a rescue, a confiscation or surrender,” Brink said.

There are 17 different species, including African lions, cougars, white and orange tigers, bobcats, a serval Indian cat, black and spotted leopards, American and Himalayan black bears and grizzly bears. The sanctuary is also a rescue for horses, donkeys, miniature horses, sheep, goats and other farm animals.

LTB is also one of the only sanctuaries in the country with a hauler that can transport these types of animals, so it is often called upon to help move animals for other sanctuaries.

“We just did a big sanctuary that closed up in South Dakota,” Brink said. “We moved 200 animals as far as Florida, Texas, Arizona and here from that one rescue.”

Lions, Tigers and Bears founder and director Bobbi Brink. (Photo by Jeff Clemetson)

The cost of running the LTB is around $1.2 million a year with the greatest expenses being electricity, insurance and building new habitats.

“The average to feed one tiger, just food and basic vaccines and flea control, is about $10,000 a year per animal,” Brink said.

The budget is funded entirely by donations, educations programs, a two-bedroom house that is rented to animal lovers at $650 per night and various fundraisers.

LTB is hosting a casino night-themed gala on May 20 that will feature gambling tables, a silent auction, bar, entertainment and, of course, the animals. The gala usually raises about four months’ worth of operating costs, Brink said. There is also a fundraiser at Christmas time and a “spooky” campout in the fall held at the ranch.

Raising money is important right now because the sanctuary is in the middle of an ambitious expansion. The plan includes building more habitats, a feed room, an expanded vet facility and a classroom. Brink said that when completed, LTB will be able to hold 100 more animals.

“When we take an animal, we have to support it for its life,” she said, adding that because the animals can live 20 to 30 years, the sanctuary must have more facilities in order to take in new animals while also providing for existing ones. “We can only take in what we can support.”

A habitat is currently under construction for three new cats coming in this year — one white lion and two lions that are retired circus animals.

Although LTB is not a zoo where people walk up and buy tickets, visitors are welcome by appointment on Wednesdays through Saturdays at 10:30 a.m. and on Fridays and Saturdays at 1:30 p.m.

To make an appointment to visit the sanctuary, to schedule a field trip or other large group visit, or to make a donation, visit lionstigersandbears.org.

—Reach Jeff Clemetson at [email protected].

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Original Article Provided By: LaMesaCourier.com Oh, my! By Jeff Clemetson | Editor East County exotic animal sanctuary looks to expand In 1990, Bobbi Brink was searching through a her local Texas newspaper for used restaurant equipment when another classified listing caught her eye and changed the course of her life.

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joesbrownusa · 7 years

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Houses For Sale in Tallassee, TN

5839 Lakeshore Dr

Price: $137500

Unique lakefront property at Top of the World ready for memory-making! This retreat has been updated and items replaced: new roof, appliances, flooring & electric. Cathedral ceiling & sliding windows allow plenty of light in. Ceiling fans, gas log fireplace, gas range and continuous hot water makes for a cozy house year-round. This property comes fully equipped for lakefront fun and includes pontoon boat, gas grill, hammock and a collection of fishing rods. This open floor-plan (one bed, great room, and large lakeside screened porch) requires little maintenance. Located only 20 min from Maryville.

5602 Lakeshore Dr

Price: $129900

”A” Frame with lake and mountain views, screened porch and deck overlooking Lake in The Sky! Updates in the last 4 years: Cork flooring, new plumbing, counter tops, cabinets, lighting, fridge, stove, shower and vanity, washer, water heater. New paint throughout, new beds and mattresses. Also a paddle boat w/canopy to enjoy on the lake that does not allow gas motors so it is very clean and quiet. Sold furnished.

6715 Avens Ln

Price: $379900

Fabulous log home in a gated community. 10.74 acres of level to rolling land with a cleared sunny area for the house. Perfect large family get away or a private residence. A little piece of heaven! Full kitchen with stainless appliances and granite countertops and walkin pantry, eating nook plus dining room. Extended beam cathedral ceilings and wonderful window space. Living room with access to large deck with hot tub. Master bedroom on main level with private bath. Great star gazing area off back deck. Office/loft/bonus area on second level. Lower level has 2 bedrooms, each with a priv ate bath. Rec room with gas log fireplace. Detached oversized two car garage with extra hobby room or playroom. Convenient to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and ”top of the World” lake.

5701 S Lindsey St

Price: $154900

This Single-Family Home located at 5701 South Lindsey Street, Tallassee, TN is currently for sale and has been listed on theochomesearch for 138 days. This property is listed by LeConte Realty, LLC for $154,900. 5701 S Lindsey St has 1 bed, 1 bath, and approximately 862 square feet. The price per square foot is $180. The property has a lot size of 2.0 acres and was built in 2016. 5701 S Lindsey St is in the 37878 ZIP code in Tallassee, TN.

5916 S Mockingbird Dr

Price: $100000

Live or vacation in this adorable cabin and rent out the unit beside it to cover your mortgage! Cabin and rental unit are on 12 lots equaling approx .63 acres with 2 additional lots (11 & A17) available for $3,000. Quiet neighborhood, just off the water on a private lake. See the lake through the trees from this large section of land. Only 13 miles which takes 29 minutes from Foothills Mall. The Master’s cabin has 1 large bedroom with a private screen porch and private facility. Electric fireplace, full bath downstairs, washer/dryer and adorable full eat-in kitchen. 2 sheds on property. You could sell some of the lots or put rental units on them to make this an excellent investment property. Come take a look at this unique opportunity.

5831 Omega Dr

Price: $109900

This Single-Family Home located at 5831 Omega Drive, Tallassee, TN is currently for sale and has been listed on theochomesearch for 242 days. This property is listed by Coldwell Banker Wallace & Wallace, Realtors for $109,900. 5831 Omega Dr has 2 beds, 1 bath, and approximately 832 square feet. The price per square foot is $132. The property has a lot size of 0.52 acres and was built in 1970. 5831 Omega Dr is in the 37878 ZIP code in Tallassee, TN.

5720 S Hilltop Dr

Price: $104000

”A” Frame in the woods on 2 lots! 2BR on main level plus loft. Updated new roof 5 years,windows 4 years, HVAC 2 years, re-plumbed with PEX 1 year. Top of The World community has a large spring fed lake. No gas motors allowed. Great fishing and boating w/trolling motors. Sold furnished. TV, Loveseat and Washer do not convey.

6140 Sandy Stan Rd

Price: $165000

Make this house a home! It is almost complete and you can finish it off and make it your dream home. This 4 bedroom and two bath cabin with a large porch on both front and back of the house. The cabin has 35′ tall ceilings with 1848 sq feet and is built very strong. Lots of privacy with this mountain cabin. If you love wood cabins, you need to take a look at this one. There is a red oak flooring and other building supplies already inside just waiting for you to finish it off. Just think of all the possibilities! Live the Dream! Square footage per tax records, buyer to verify.

5806 Omega Dr

Price: $35000

2 lots with a 30X30 block basement and 2 BR septic ready for you to finish. There is a small A Frame on the other lot.

6011 Ohio St

Price: $72000

Come bask in the majestic Great Smoky Mountains if you’re looking for peace and quiet, you have found it with this cozy cottage. Approximate 6 mile from Cades Cove, private lake for property owner only, pavilion – picnic area, even has it’s own fire department and scenes of the Smoky Mountains down the road that will take your breath away. ALSO there are 10 additional lots that convey with this property as seen in photos. Oh by the way ”NO” gas motors on the lake, only electric motors or canoes / paddle boats.You are on ”TOP OF THE WORLD”

6240 Happy Valley Loop

Price: $44900

Rustic cabin house sitting in the middle of your own 5 acres of wildlife. A great place for an escape or live off the grid. This would make a great hunters cabin. Please be careful showing property. Road is good but Will need a 4 wheel drive to reach home.

5718 Lakeshore Dr

Price: $149900

COMING SOON!! Details to follow.

5710 Lakeshore Dr

Price: $35000

A Frame needs lots of work and is of little value.

S Compton Dr

Price: $115000

STUNNING MOUNTAIN VIEWS! PANORAMIC VIEWS from east of Rich Mountain ~ westward as far as you can see! This is 3 unrestricted level lots combined that already has well installed + power pole in place! Live in your motor coach as you build! Only minutes from downtown Maryville and McGhee Tyson + easy to run down the Parkway & head to North Carolina or take Hwy 72 to work & play ~ This is your hidden treasure! Photos are taken w/iPhone ~ Drone pics to come!! Truly a BEAUTIFUL place to live! Lots 25, 89 & 90.

Lots 70-73 Flats Rd

Price: $39900

This Lot/Land located at Lots 70-73 Flats Road, Tallassee, TN is currently for sale and has been listed on theochomesearch for 40 days. This property is listed by Coldwell Banker Wallace & Wallace, Realtors for $39,900. The property has a lot size of 0.8 acres. Lots 70-73 Flats Rd is in the 37878 ZIP code in Tallassee, TN.

Deer Trot Trl

Price: $30000

Nice corner lot in Top of the World community. This double lot sits adjacent to Lakeshore Drive! This would be a great place for your forever home or weekend hideaway! Two lots being sold together! (lots 40 and 41).

LOT 1 1 FLATS Rd

Price: $39900

Wooded 1.87 acres to build your dream home on! Seller says mountain view at back of property backs up to the Great Smoky Mountains. Be a part of the Top of the World and enjoy the spring-fed lake. Owner Financing available.

5621 Abrams View Trl

Price: $2500000

This Single-Family Home located at 5621 Abrams View Trail, Tallassee, TN is currently for sale and has been listed on theochomesearch for 21 days. This property is listed by LeConte Realty, LLC for $2,500,000. 5621 Abrams View Trl has 4 beds, 4 ½ baths, and approximately 5,546 square feet. The price per square foot is $451. The property has a lot size of 1.85 acres and was built in 2016. 5621 Abrams View Trl is in the 37878 ZIP code in Tallassee, TN.

7039 Smokerock Cir

Price: $59900

Looking for a good little mountain getaway at a reasonable price? This is it. Rustic home on very private, end-of-the-road location, just minutes from the National Park Boundary. Whimsical touches to include man room in the detached garage with woodburning stove plus loft for storage; equipment storage area. Home is an older single wide on .75+/-AC tract. This home has permanent foundation w/2BD/1BA, Laundry, Kitchen/DR/LR Combo. Large front deck and covered back porch. The home does not have central heat and air but includes wall propane heater and window air units. This home is in goo d condition however is being sold ”as-is”. Call listing agent for further details and to view this home.

from Houses For Sale – The OC Home Search http://www.theochomesearch.com/houses-for-sale-in-tallassee-tn/ from OC Home Search https://theochomesearch.tumblr.com/post/157941513910

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