Date:

8/15/00

To:

Maaike & Howard
Lorraine & Lon
Brenda & Ralph
Marcia & George
Verlis

From:

Gene Kincaid

Subject:

Follow-up to the 2000 Silver Homecoming

cc:

Jessi, Emma, Emily M., Emily E., Kelly and Laura

Howdy all,

Every year is different and this one was no exception. In fact, this letter has been much more difficult to write than prior follow-ups. I'll tell you why at the end.

Friday's trip to San Angelo

What can I say? Mix together fashion magazines (which I hereby dub "face Velcro") and portable CD players (which are 90% auditory consumptive), and you get a quiet ride. We did make one quick stop for a late lunch in Brady at the DQ. True to form the girls took over one corner of the dining area by rearranging a few tables to fit the group. Then they proceeded to burn off some pent-up energy from the first two hours of the trip with an outburst of conversation and laughter.

And, yes for those who remember from earlier trips, we did play the Lion King tape at full volume on the van's stereo for a short stretch of road just this side of Eden. It completely drowned out all attempts at personal listening on CD players, but that was the whole point, I think. A tradition renewed.

Thankfully Emily M. was riding shotgun as we crept up on the edge of the Edwards Plateau just outside of Wall. She good-naturedly put up with my pointing out dust devils, what's growing in the fields, and why the farmers follow the curve of the land during cultivation. Thanks, Emily. That little bit of rolling commentary that you put up with makes me feel useful.

In short --- road empty; traffic light; van quiet. Life is good.

Friday shopping in San Angelo

After check-in at the motel, we headed for a Friday afternoon of shopping in downtown San Angelo. The primary targets were Eggemeyer's General Store, a vintage clothing shop named Simply Scarlet, or something like that, and an antique mall jammed into a street corner location. The girls included me in this antique mall shopping spree, which was a total hoot! Why? Well, there's nothing more fun than frowning, raising an eyebrow, and giving passing inspection on treasures the girls found for sale. How they actually arrive at purchase decisions is a total mystery to me. It seems to involve a combination of competitive hunting, consensus building, financial angst, direct comparison to vaguely defined articles in some other store, and an emotional attachment formed at the instant of first discovery.

Friday night

Friday night now belongs to Shirley and Tommy Weaver. The girls look forward to it as much as any part of the trip. Good rumor has it that Shirley took off work to get ready for the onslaught. If Laura's photos even partially reflect what went on, it was an extraordinary evening filled with swimming, fresh fruit trays, hot pizza, home-made ice cream, at least one worn-out traveler bagged out on a couch, and lots of laughter. They had a wonderful time, and I sneaked in a little work back at the motel.

Saturday morning in San Angelo

Saturday morning was a relatively slow takeoff. We managed to make breakfast at IHOP around 9:30am where, as often happens, the girls lifted the noise level and injected a rather festive mood into the whole place. It was at this point that I began to recognize that I was traveling with the "net net" of all of those fashion magazines they were reading in the van on the way up. What a great looking bunch of girls they are. In fashion, in sync, in control. Wow. Nonetheless, these girls can pack away the food when they're in the mood. Including an innovative cafe mocha cobbled together from IHOP's bottomless coffeepot and a glass of chocolate milk. Mmmm, good? Plus lots of orange juice, a lively discussion over the merits of standard West Texas fare (biscuits and gravy) versus the more refined dining choice of strawberry crepes and piping hot coffee.

Here's a little story worth mentioning. As I waited at the cashier's desk to settle up the bill, the girls decided to go wait in the van. On the way out they passed through a Pony League baseball team waiting to be seated. "Parted the waters" is a better description. The effect was striking. Every guy went stone silent until the girls passed by and were safely outside. Then I heard the team exhale as a unit. "Whoa…." "Wow, did you see that?" "Where did they come from?" "Forget that, where are they going?" That's about the time it dawned on me that things were changing.

Next came our obligatory stop at Walmart to purchase some brownies for Sunday's potluck meal as well as sunscreen, ice, drinks and film for Saturday's trek.... and a yellow rose for Emily M. It was her birthday! Brenda and I had talked earlier and she'd made long-distance arrangements for a Saturday night birthday cake from Baskin & Robbins, so we seemed covered on the birthday front. But Mr. Sam Walton is a very clever fellow. He put the fresh cut flower stand right at the front door where West Texas guys can't miss it. Hint, hint; nudge, nudge; doh, doh. Perfect timing. I got to buy Emily a yellow rose and we all sang Happy Birthday right there in the store! Much to her embarrassment.

Saturday afternoon in Silver

Silver was our next stop, and one of my best friends, Jim Clendennen, had agreed to meet us there around 1:00pm for an adventure. That gave us time to make a stop at Lonnie and Marla Bloodworth's to say hello and catch up on things. As a nature sidebar, the girls got to feed two white-tail fawns that were about to be moved to a game reserve run by a friend of Marla's. It seems as though critters and the Bloodworth family go hand in hand. Rattle snakes one year, chickens the next, deer the next. And, of course, Lonnie is the area's bee-charmer and produces remarkable honey.

After that quick stop we went to what's left of Silver's old grocery store. The girls warmed up their arms and threw gourds and rocks at the glass bricks on one of the remaining standing walls. Emily M. did the most damage with a wicked overhand throw, and Kelly proved to have a great right wing. A little practice on the mound and Kelly could be hurling 90 mph "nothing-but-strikes". Well, maybe. Once Emily E. gets her release down, her pitches won't sail high and to the right. I have a feeling there'll be a return match between Emily E. and the wall next year.

Jim drove up right on time and agreed to join us for the climb up Silver Peak. So off we went down the road to the Second Camp. One right turn and we're at the base of the mountain.

Yes, it's hot. Yes, we picked the heat of the day for our ascent. How does that saying go? "Only mad dogs and Englishmen venture out in the noon-day sun..."? Didn't slow us down a bit. Kelly charged the hill, Jim wound his way around the summit past an old cave entrance, and the rest of us hauled up the side with some hand-over-hand help from a cable that runs up the hill to a telephone pole at the top. As a matter of fact, that same cable helped Jim and I up the side of Silver Peak oh those many years ago. Wow! Was it great at the top or what? A breeze kicked up, the 360-degree view was fabulous, and we must have taken 20 photographs. I've never noticed it on earlier assaults, but it was kind of crowded up there. I remember there being lots of room to roam around at the top of Silver Peak. Surely the mountain shrunk. Right?

We scrambled down and headed for an afternoon of swimming in San Angelo. Then, "whump... whump... whump... whump." A flat on the right rear tire. Well, that's not so bad. However, as Jim and I piled out to check on things, I heard a heart-sinking low hiss coming from up front. Oh boy. Two flats. One spare. That's not so good.

But remember that cell phone that I bought a year ago prior to last year's trip? The one that won't work in the dead zone just west of Austin? Well it worked great to get in touch with Doug Wilkes who lives nearby. He pulled us out of the jam with two cans of Flat Fix-It to get the front tire up and working after Jim and I put the spare on the rear. And thank all lucky stars, his brother Jerry also lives in Silver, and he had this huge, industrial strength, 5-gallon can of Flat Fix-It and an air compressor at his house. It was only about a 1/2-mile away. With the Wilkes's help we got up and running then limped into Robert Lee with Jim following us to look for a gas station that fixes flats. Sunday I replaced the two cans of Fix-It we used with eight new cans. I figured two cans to replace the ones that Doug gave us, two cans to balance against what we used of Jerry's 5-gallon container, and four spares, which we'll probably need next year.

Sidebar --- there is nothing better than the feeling you get when friends pitch in to lend you a helping hand. Doug and Jerry are what Silver is all about. Just about when they should have been winding up a working Saturday afternoon, they dropped everything and got us going.

Saturday evening in Robert Lee

Jim led us to Springer's Texaco where he knew they fixed flats. It turns out that each tire had a 2-inch gash and neither could be repaired. Again, there is nothing better than a local connection. Jim put me in touch with a friend of his family who runs a tire dealership in town, and we wound up with two new radials for the van. But by then the day was shot with the four-hour delay. No swimming for the girls. No chance to attend the Saturday night Homecoming get-together held in Robert Lee. Very little good karma left over from the original adventure. I declared defeat and we headed for the motel.

Saturday night in San Angelo

After a quick clean up and change of clothes, we celebrated Emily's birthday at one of the best Chinese restaurants in San Angelo, but I missed the chance to pick up Brenda's birthday cake. The girls took over the main dining room and bounced back from the very long, hot, and boring afternoon. I am constantly amazed at their resilience. Here I was all grumpy and in a huff over the break in our plans. Here they were laughing, throwing things, running around the table, giving each other a hard time, and taking pictures with Emily M.'s very cool Polaroid camera. We closed the place down about 11:15pm.

Sunday in Silver

Sunday morning generally involves a relatively slow start to the day. But this Sunday had a twist. As we were starting to pack the van I noticed a line of clouds racing in from the north. By the time the girls had rustled up all their gear, made a half-hearted sprint to the motel lobby for breakfast snacks, and posed for the "pre-church" photo, the temperature had dropped 15 degrees, the sky was cloudy and I could smell rain. I'd almost forgotten that sweet smell. Nothing like it in the world. The clouds only gave us a few drops but it made the rest of the morning cool and breezy. It was perfect weather for the Homecoming. The front cooled of West Texas then raced south and dumped one and a half inches of rain on Austin just prior to our making it home that night.

We made it to church almost on time and took up the back pew, swelling total attendance by 25%. The service was nice, with only two of our crew falling asleep during the sermon. They almost slipped under the pew in front of us, but each made a nice recovery. I figured it could have been much worse.

Homecoming attendance was a bit light this year. Who cares? I had great visits with a lot of folks. Better yet, I learned all kinds of new things. Like, the first roads and drilling pads were carved out with mule-drawn Hamptons. And Lonnie's Grandfather was one of the best muleskinners in Silver. And one of the Silver kids could remember that the mule pens were where the Tubb Camp was eventually built. And that one of the old Hamptons is still out in a field on Lonnie's family farm. I sense a photo opportunity for next year.

The potluck lunch was everything it should be. Home cooked fried chicken, pinto beans, scalloped potatoes, jalapeno rice, BBQ brisket, fresh vegetables, sweet fruits, home-made pecan pie and gallons of iced tea and lemonade. Four star restaurants can't match it. Maybe it's the good company. Maybe it's the memories that get stirred up. Then again, maybe it's just good home cooking.

To be honest I hardly saw or hear from the girls the whole time. Except for an occasional burst of laughter or blurred image of them grabbing desserts or iced tea or lemonade they made themselves scarce.

We helped clean up a little bit, then gathered for an end-of-trip, front porch photo.

Return trip to Austin

The trip home was pretty uneventful. Everyone was pretty tuckered out. We did stop at the Baskin & Robbins in San Angelo on the way home to get Emily's birthday cake. And it was really good, Brenda. Unfortunately, since I picked up the ice cream cake a day late, that puppy was frozen rock-solid. With the help of a serrated kitchen knife from B&R's back room and by putting a full shoulder into it, I managed to cut pieces small enough to eat. Lesson learned.

The rest of the trip home was a duplicate of Friday's trip out. Very quiet. Some sleepy heads. Much reading. CD headphones all around. Not much conversation. Plus, from 120 miles out, we watched the thunder-boomers build over Central Texas and enjoyed the cool afternoon drive home.

After dining al fresco at the Sonic in Llano, we were home again, home again, jiggedy-jig.

Overall, it was a great weekend.

Our rookie traveler, Kelly, was at the center of everything. She chunked rocks with gleeful abandon, inflicted major damage on the old grocery store, led the charge up Silver Peak, claimed first-to-the-top honors, jockeyed with the best of them over seating in the van, endured the heat and boredom with grace and poise, then managed to stir things up when she felt things were getting dull. A masterful first trip, Kelly.

On her first return trip, Emily E. simply always seemed to be at the right place at the right time in the right frame of mine. How do I know? Well, it's easy. When there was a commotion, I'd listen for an infectious laugh and look for a shock of blonde hair. There would be Emily E. Now she might be a little ticked off because her rock throwing was off the mark, and that might generate more than a just little fire in her eyes. But with a quick stamp of her feet she'd shake it off, laugh out loud at herself, and do an instant attitude adjustment. It's a trait that serves you well in West Texas. Keep it up, Emily.

Elevated to a new traveler plateau is Emily M. Emily gave up her birthday celebration with her folks to join us in West Texas. Now that's dedication. She showed great shopping restraint in the antique mall spending spree, was most gracious at her birthday dinner by including me in the celebration, and true to her cornerstone taste established in prior years, set a very high fashion benchmark each day. Plus, her aim is deadly, her arm is strong, and she wastes no energy when it comes to knocking out glass bricks. I think I saw a bit of the lifeguard showing through in her poised, confident demeanor throughout the whole trip. And one last time, Emily, thanks for putting up with my countryside commentary every day.

Los Angeles. I wrote down "Hollywood" by Jessi's name in my travel notes, but upon reflection it's really the City of Angels. From my days on the client-side of television production I know that Hollywood glitters, but Los Angeles drives the show. It only sparkles when the situation merits a little flash. And that's Jessi: organized, adaptive, efficient, spontaneous on demand, multidimensional, experimental, a touch of flash grounded in stone. She's an explorer. Every time I looked up Jessi was cutting new territory. And that new ground ranged all over the place: a conversation point at breakfast; a bit of social commentary; a fashion counterpoint; an offbeat point-of-view that nipped a little bit; a exasperated look. Many voices, but at the end of the day a very self-centering young lady. Impressive.

Emma is the submariner of the trip. She runs completely off my radar screen when she chooses to. And she is a total delight when she decides to pop back into view. Emma has this Silver thing figured out. Or so she thinks. Silver is full of little surprises, Emma. You haven't seen them yet, but they're there. As you roam about, Silver folks notice you. Especially my friends' moms, who I refer to as Silver Moms. No one runs under, over, or around their radar. They notice you and pay you very high compliments. As a matter of fact I've discovered that my friends' moms are my best intelligence sources. They love having you in Silver. I think they see even more than I see. Remember when I wrote and told you that you were a Silver kid? Well, you are. And more. The Silver Moms know you. It's one of those little surprises that awaits you in Silver. You are cherished, named, known and treasured. You're the future with a growing link to Silver's past. The Silver Moms see it, and they remind me that it's a wonderful thing. So let's continue the game, Emma. You keep running under my radar; I'll keep listening to Silver Moms.

In Laura I see my Dad working his hand today... across generations. Here's how. Each year one, two, sometimes three of my Dad's contemporaries will take me aside at Homecoming and express how much they thought of him and how they miss him. They mention how smoothly things ran, how knotty problems were solved with a level head and a steady hand, how various personalities and agendas were bridged, and who they could count on in a tight spot. They're talking about my dad, but they're describing Laura. I can't really express what that means to me. Of course I smile and thank my Dad's friends for their kind remarks. But as these Homecoming trips accumulate, I watch, enjoy, marvel at, and wonder ever time I see a bit of my Dad at work. What a wonderful gift, Laura. Thank you.

The girls are growing up. That makes it increasingly hard to condense their contributions to the trip into short paragraphs. They are emerging as very interesting young ladies. Testing constraints and boundaries; trying out new things; relaxing in comfortable old roles. It's part of what makes the trip memorable.

It's also what made this letter very difficult to write this year. I've seen a glimpse into the future. It includes years when the girls will be too consumed with other activities to carve out a whole weekend. But that's OK. Silver will always be there. Homecoming has been going on for over 30 years. And all Silver kids are always welcome to come home. Remember that ladies.

Parents thank you again from the bottom of my heart for allowing your daughters to be a part of West Texas. It means a lot to me.

Good Grief! ... I just reread this letter and it ends on such a somber note! That's not how it was, or is, or will be in the future. I had a blast this year! I want to keep on having a blast!

So... Pfffffttt... Ladies, let's do it again next year!

Sincerely,

Gene Kincaid

PS Alison and Kim, who've missed a Homecoming or two, continue to be a part of the fabric of the Silver Homecoming even though they weren't able to attend this year. Their names popped up in conversation all weekend. Several of the Silver folks ask about them and want to know how they're doing. Everyone hopes to see them again in the future. They're Silver kids. Alison and Kim, I hope you can both make it next year.

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