chillin' in childress

the last road trip i ever went on with my brother sam and my brother david was across the united states, from the banks of the atlantic ocean to the shores of the pacific. the trip was epic and the trip was rough. i'd argue that it was probably the toughest cross country trip that three brothers have ever made together. but i'm not one to argue.

our path was littered with road blocks and the ones that were invisible were the worst.

but the three of us - that'd be sam, david and me, ben - couldn't and wouldn't be stopped by any type of landslide that the heavens tossed our way, nor would high winds rip our mast

love is what kept us going forward ever.

on our roadtrip from the atlantic to the pacific we made a detour to childress, texas. our grandmother, my mom's mom grew up in childress and we had an address.

so one warm january night in 2006, the three of us drove down main street childress, texas. dust bales bounced under the one red stoplight that just flashed and flashed and flashed quietly. i remember how peaceful it felt.

we found the road where our grandmother mary had grown up. it was special to return to real roots, to follow the childress connection, finally link it to brooklyn where my mom laura grew up, and of course, manhattan island where we were born and raised.

it was late that night and we stopped at some good old american diner for dinner in childress. it was a small little local cafeteria with high school penants and football jerseys adorning the walls.

sam and david must have had burgers or chicken fingers with fries, i perhaps fried shrimp.

we left childress late that night and on our way out of town we were stopped by a texas state trooper, a texas ranger. i was behind the wheel. the late night and the open road of the prairie had weighed heavy on my foot. i had been flooring it.

i'm sure our new york license plates were as crystal clear as the lone star sky and the folks in corpus christi must have been able to read our empire state plates even with the curvature of the earth on our side.

the ranger, bucket hat, stirrups and all, came to our window, a flashlight blinding our wide evening eyes.

what are you boys doing in childress, texas this emening? he grimaced.

a written warning later, you bet he knew we were on a mission.

happy birthday sammy.

i love you.

love and health to all...