Date:02/20/02 and 06/08/02

To: Brenda & Ralph
Lorraine & Lon
Dee & Robert
Marcia & George
Maaike & Howard

From: Gene Kincaid

Subject: Follow-up to the 2001 Silver Homecoming

cc: Emily M., Emma, Kim, Emily E., Jessi, and Laura

________________________________________________________________________

Howdy all,

Well, I set a record. This has been the slowest follow-up Silver letter ever. If I don't get it out by July 27^th, the date for the 2002 Silver Homecoming, I'll have set two records! We can't have that can we? No, no, no.

So here we go. By the way, I'm cheating by looking at the photos from the trip while I review and revise my notes. This year was particularly interesting, Not just because of the events of the weekend, but because of something I discovered after the whole affair. I'll get to that at the end of this letter.

All packed up and ready to go in a rent car. Our trusty Chevy Astro van that has made every Silver homecoming with the girls and the one that suffered the indignity of two flat tires last year, finally gave me pause with a series of repairs that indicated it was no longer seaworthy for a summer trip to West Texas. Especially after last year's mechanical debacle. So I rented what I thought was a huge SUV, a Ford Expedition. Wrong. The interior is smaller than the van! Who'd ‘a thunk? But the girls made do and squeezed in. So if you see a picture with girls curled up sleeping in what looks like a nest made of bedding and bags, it's because the far rear seat is tiny with no floor space.

For those of you that remember last year wherein I forgot my wedding anniversary, don't be alarmed. As we packed, all of the girls sneaked into the house signed a surprise wedding anniversary card for Gail to make sure she knew we didn't forget this year. We FedEx'd it on the way out of town. It made it to Gail, and our marriage was preserved for another year.

Gail's little sister Jill was in from New York for the weekend and she helped see us off along with Gail. That's her peeking in from the left side of one of the photos. She almost came with us, but quite frankly I think she and Gail played all weekend while Laura and I were gone. I'll never know.

Emily M. rides shotgun and picks a local hamburger place in Llano for lunch, the Burger Bar, which is located just across the bridge, north of downtown. It's a small, white, wood frame building with maybe 10 tables. As is the case in even larger dining establishments, our crew dominates the place. Lunch is served, and several food antics accompany some food consumption. You can take the girls out of Austin, but you can't take the kids out of the girls. Or something like that.

For the rest of the trip it's mostly headphones and eyes out windows. It's pretty quiet all the way to Eden where we stop for cold drinks and ice cream at the DQ. By the way, just in case it's been awhile since you've been through Eden there's a single stop light. If you had a baseball and were standing in that intersection you could hit all of the town's high points with one throw each: the Chevy dealer, the bank, the gas station, the DQ and Venison World.

Then it was off on the last leg to San Angelo. Here is where Jessi once again came through with something spectacular. She created a killer cassette tape mix of music that played perfectly on the Expedition's sound system as West Texas rolled by. Wow, Jessi is incredible. It had everything from Louis Armstrong to Joan Jet. It included only one or two songs that made my ears hurt. Hey, this is very good news, moms and dads. It was like listening to a great live concert where the artists lifts you up, slows you down, rekindles memories, and leaves you laughing. Way to go Jessi. This made the trip out to Silver a treat.

Arrived at motel and discovered that we're the only ones staying there this year except Lisa Wall, our next door neighbor in Silver. It's hot. It's quiet. It's pool time. Which is exactly what happened. Déjà vu. "Screaming hot sun and screaming girls in the pool combined into an odd cosmic West Texas symmetry." I tried for a better description, but that line kept drifting back into my head from the 1998 follow-up letter you've read before.

Lisa was combining work with the Silver weekend, so she didn't show up poolside until late afternoon. She works for FedEx and made calls on stations in and around San Angelo all day Friday. This was Lisa's first trip back to Silver, and the first time I'd seen her since her family moved away from Silver. Remember, this was an oil camp so folks were promoted and transferred all the time. Anyway, my sister Judy used to baby-sit Lisa and her little brother Roy at Silver. We had a nice poolside chat playing catch-up across the years.

Once again, we got to celebrate Emily M.'s birthday on Friday night. It was dinner at China Palace with Lisa joining us there. The management must have remembered us from last year because the hostess put us in a banquet room that was so far away from the bar and the other dining areas that I thought we were back in Austin. Really. It was a 15-minute walk to the restroom. That's OK. There was much running about, several virgin pina collatas, a wild variety of unusual buffet food combinations on plates, plenty of shared dishes, and general mayhem. In short, our normal restaurant busting presence.

It was the end of a long day for Lisa, so she didn't join us on further adventures that night. That included a footrace across the parking lot to the Dollar General Store for a fast shopping venture before they slammed the doors shut. We're just getting wound up and they're ready to go home. Bad combo. So we pile into the truck and head off in search of adventure or ice cream, whichever comes first. Turns out to be adventure. We spot Hastings Records and Books, the only place open after 9pm in San Angelo. There's a unanimous and immediate decision for a night attack. Which we do. It's a big music and bookstore with a few local guys and girls hanging out in the coffee bar near the front of the store. That provided a little diversion and reconnoitering, but for the most part it was book grazing and small purchases. I bought a paperback edition of Dr. Jekle & Mr. Hyde. After that we blew the place and headed back to the motel.

We all sleep late. Then we rolled off for breakfast at the IHOP we discovered last year. All the girls jammed into a booth while I continued the previous day's conversation with Lisa, who had agreed to join us for the start of the day.

We spent the next few hours shopping downtown with the girls making the now familiar rounds in the San Angelo's antique district. Actually it's two sides of the street along a single block, but you know what, it's just about right. There are a half-dozen very nice antique shops, an incredible, renovated old general store that would fit into any high end shopping district, and a couple of emerging specialty shops existing alongside some very established San Angelo merchants. So, it really is a nice district. I saw Lisa doing some shopping there before she went off to lunch somewhere.

OK, here comes a fun sidebar. As usual I walked around downtown just like the girls do, ducking into my favorite haunts just like the girls do. But this year was different. While grazing in one of the smaller antique stores, I spotted a pirate chest coin bank in a display case. It looked exactly like one I had when I was a kid. So the lady pulled it out of the case and handed it to me. It starting looking more than exactly like the one I had as a kid. It started looking and feeling familiar. I opened it up. It was full of foreign coins. Just like it was when I was a kid. It was mine! I recaptured my youth for under $10. Literally. Who knows how it got there? Who cares? It's sitting on my chest of drawers gathering dust right now. Just like it did some 40+ years ago in Silver. The planets are in alignment.

Plus a small used bookstore that I love to visit continued to yield interesting reading. This year it was a 1941, first edition of Bait Casting by Gilmer Robinson, M.S., Dean of Men and Assistant Professor of Physical Education, Kalamazoo College, Kalamazoo Michigan. I've always wondered why I could never cast with my dad's open faced spinning reel. I always got nothing but backlash. After careful reading in the motel that afternoon, it turns out you're supposed to cast with the reel turned it on it's side with the axle perpendicular to the ground, not parallel to the ground with your thumb hovering over the open face containing fishing line. I learn something new every day.

Back from the sidebar. It's hot. We eat lunch at the new Schlotzsky's. It's cool inside and very Austin. However, on the way back to the motel it reads 107 degrees on the local bank thermometer. That's hot. So in a departure from tradition, which turns out to be a recurring theme this year, I take an on-the-fly vote. We can either go to Silver for a day of really hot adventure, or we can hang at the pool. The vote goes for staying in San Angelo with lazy afternoon of swimming and sleep. Which is what we do. I spend a good part of the afternoon marveling at my treasure chest and reading my 60-year old book on bait casting. Which in the middle of a West Texas drought, is a faint hope at best.

About 5pm we pack up and head to Robert Lee for a pre-homecoming event in the Robert Lee Recreation Hall. It's a huge, air-conditioned, cool, very clean and very well maintained metal building located in the city park. The organizing committee provided a very nice spread of snacks and iced tea. But this huge hall makes things seem a little sparsely attended. The following names won't mean much to you, but I've included them here so I can remember who I saw that night. There was Jim Clendennen, Dick and Jay Simer, Lonnie, Charles, Carl Bloodworth along with their dad, Raymond Bloodworth, Mrs. Paul, Sue Ree Kennedy, Mrs. Kennedy and Chick Kennedy and Ernest Clendennen. Ernest is Jim's dad and one of my most favorite people in the world.

The girls eat some snacks and amuse themselves in a variety of ways, including creating some rather elaborate Crayon works in some coloring books provided by someone. As a matter of fact, Emily M. gave me a delightfully colored page that I still have. I spent a few minutes talking with folks then decided to go outside and walk around a little bit. When Silver closed down, the town's baseball stands, named Glady Field, was moved to the Robert Lee city park. Having spent a lot of summers playing baseball in front of those stands and raking up trash the following morning as a summer job for my Dad, I decided to walk over and see if it could rustle up some memories. It did, sort of. Of course they'd replaced the wooden bleacher seats with metal ones, and repainted it in colors that mean something to Robert Lee rather than leaving it the original dark green. So there were whispers in the chipped paint where green showed through. And the wind still howls through the roof just like it used to. But by and large it reminded me that people make places special, not things. Good thing to keep in mind.

It was starting to get dark by then and for those of you not from West Texas (pretty much everyone), twilight is when the wind simmers down and there's the hint of relief from the heat. So I walked across the street to check out the city park's municipal swimming pool. It's almost the same as when I was a kid, but the high and low diving boards have been removed. Probably a liability thing. I certainly don't recall hearing that word when I was a kid, but I'll bet it was there. Pffft. Who cares? I'm here for fun! I can hear the summer pool noises. I can remember what it was like to dive off the high board the first time. I can dream about the wax paper wrapped, green and white striped taffy that they used to sell at the pool's concession stand. If I recall correctly, it was 8" wide and two feet long. It was a summer treat you could only get at the pool and it tasted great. Well, let me think about that. My hands were a little smaller then, so I'll bet the taffy wasn't that big. But, I'll bet it was that good.

Back to the rec hall. By now conversations are beginning to form in comfortable clumps and Jim is warming up on his fiddle. He's about to play. I see Charlie Bloodworth pulling out his guitar and start to join in. Remarkably the hall is beginning to fill up. It's the music. Wow. Then I catch Kim out of the corner of my eye, and she's playing an "air" guitar. I sidle over and notice that her fingers are callused from playing guitar all summer at her church camp. Charlie is good, but I can see that Kim wants to play. It only takes a little nudge to get her to ask Charlie to let her sit in with Jim. Do you all remember the follow-up letter to our '99 trip when I told Dee and Robert that I thought Kim may have been born in West Texas? Well, it may be true, because it takes a West Texas girl to ask a weather beaten fellow who stands an easy 6' 6" and tips the scales at a rock solid 240 pounds for his guitar. Now Charlie is in fact one of the nicest, most courteous and gentle Silver kids around. But he doesn't look like it. So for Kim to snag his guitar and then jump right in with Jim says something very, very good about Kim, and about Charlie.

Kim and Jim played and it was an amazing thing. I don't remember the songs; I don't remember how long they played. But it filled the room, and when they stopped it was as though someone had turned off a light switch. Musicians are magical.

A fist full of the girls had migrated out to the park playground by then and had managed to drape themselves over the old buried tractor tires and bump their butts on the seesaw. On any other day, at any other time it would have been unbearable out there. Six mesquite trees, a swing set, some seesaws, a few BBQ pits and picnic tables all bounded by a low slung pipe fence you step over to get in. But at the end this day, full of the girls' laughter and squeals (plus some whines and general grousing) it was a great way to end things. So we pack up and head back to San Angelo.

Before I close the day however, I have to apologize to Lisa Wall. Earlier that evening I'd promised to let Lisa know when we were leaving so we could follow her back to the motel and she wouldn't have to make that 50 mile drive alone at night. Well the Wild Bunch got ready to go, I moved a little too quickly, and then I forgot to mention to Lisa that we were on the move. I'll do better next year.

The girls elected to sleep in as late as possible and grab motel lobby food for breakfast. That meal decision turned out to be not such a great idea. It was pretty slim pickings by the time we packed up and checked out. Everyone was a little tuckered out so there was nary a peep until we pulled up to the Silver Baptist Church. Mostly soft snoring and head bobbing along the way.

Church service was fine. We didn't have anyone at the piano, but Rev. Blackman was on track and belted out hymns with the best of them. There was a pretty good turnout for the service, maybe 10 or so folks plus the girls and me. We had sleepy girls in pews, with two almost falling asleep upright before sermon even started. Except for reminding my daughter that it's probably not best to stretch out horizontally in the pew before the church service even begins, I thought we did OK.

Lunch and the town meeting took place in church fellowship hall this year. It's cooler in there, and quite frankly there wasn't much of a turnout so the sanctuary seating wasn't needed. At best we had 60 people attending. This is way down from last year's low attendance. A bad trend.

In a somewhat spirited vote, the assembly voted to move to the Homecoming to Robert Lee in 2002 and hold the event on Saturday not Sunday. I led the charge against this proposal but lost. The majority felt that the church sanctuary was too hot, and that some of the older folks were having difficulty making the 17-mile trip to Silver. I'm a team player and will attend this year in Robert Lee, even though it's not home. But I'm also forming up a resistance movement to fund repairs to the church and add some A/C so we can move back home in 2003. Does this make me an old curmudgeon? Nah. It just adds a little controversy, drama and maybe even a few sparks leading to this year's homecoming (that's with an "h", not an "H"). Might even be a good reason to rabble rouse among my contemporaries and get attendance back up! We'll see.

The girls hang out in the sanctuary the whole time, and I hardly see them. No new kids were there this year. No other returning kids. Dullsville. For the most part they all stretch out in the sanctuary pews and swelter in the heat like a bunch of cats in the shade. It's that hot again.

There are two new volunteer organizers for this year, Dolores Roe and Gay Sawyer. They got lots of support in the town meeting. Update: I just got my invitation to the 2002 homecoming this week. Whoops. That's late. I think our organizers have forgotten that the only way to get the Homecoming on folks' summer calendars is to give them lots of notice and frequent reminders.

It was a slow, easy trip home. Once again, I had purchased a bunch of magazines beforehand for use on the trip back. Once again, these magazines help shorten the trip home for the girls. By the way, it's getting easier to buy this stack of publications at Book People. Once I figured out that the girls are way past "Teen Beat" and "Tiger", I could buy a bunch of other titles that deal with movies, music, entertainment and celebrities. Pretty safe topics. But, alas, I still can't buy "Road & Track", "Hemmings" or "Wooden Boat." No gear-heads in the crowd. But they more than make up for that in the remarkable, detailed, lucid and fervent conversations they have about the topics they are interested in.

We had dinner at Sonic in Llano after a false stop at the DQ. It seems as though the DQ was out of the cheese, the key ingredient required for a GCS. How could that be? A Dairy Queen running out of cheese on Sunday night? This was a major ripping of the social fabric that binds together small town Texas. The howling-wind, al fresco dining at Sonic proved to be a challenge for six very tired, very hot, very weary girls.

From there on in to Austin, it was pretty quiet. Having just written that, I pause. Can that really be true? Was it really "pretty quiet"? No. Let's just say that I can now differentiate between the serious discord and the rapid fire back-and-forth between girls that is a constant (and welcome) part of this trip. In those free exchanges the girls tell me that I'm allowed to peek into their world a little bit. Thanks, ladies. I am honored that you include me to that degree. It's one of your most precious gifts.

I had a great weekend.

Once again Emily M. graciously and gracefully rode shotgun for most of the trip. I sort of think she likes it up here so she can dive in and out of whatever conversation she's interested in. It's certainly not because of my sterling roadway observations about cotton crops, sorghum, goats and dust devils. No, Emily is already (or almost all ready to be) on her own. A little bit of the lifeguard shows through now and again. She's a little reserved, always observant, and ready to jump in when the opportunity or need arises. Emily is always in control and always fashionable, be it bandana or cowboy hat or purple velour tube top in the middle of nowhere. She's still that tan, square-shouldered, confident young lady I see leading the charge down a hot, dusty road on her way to adventure. But now she looks like a movie star.

Emma continues to run just under my visible line-of-sight. Occasionally she'll pop up long enough for me to see what she's up to, but by and large she maintains an intriguing air of mystery about her. Maybe it comes from her training in theater. Nah, I think she does that because she knows that when she turns on her smile, I turn to putty. She's simply kind enough to not do that very often, lest I become just another chauffeur. She's the one who has the road portion of the weekend down best. Sleeps when there's space, mixes it up with the others all the time, yet manages to always look fresh and relaxed no matter the occasion. As I look at the pictures from the trip I notice that Emma is at the center of things. There's a ringleader in there. Plus, she has a great sense of timing and a great sense of position. Two traits that will serve her well on stage, or on a photo shoot which is where I see her in the future… either in front of the lens as a model, or behind the lens as a director. Either place suits her.

It's getting harder and harder to write about Emily E. because unlike other people who are struck by her dazzling smile and brilliant blonde hair, I recall her laugh and that fiery spark I see in her eyes every now and again. I don't really have to look for Emily any more; I listen for her. Oh, she's easy to pick out of a crowd all right. I don't think I've ever known a young lady who can be dead asleep in the middle seat of a Ford Expedition one minute and then ready for a fashion runway the next. But Emily can. And just like the effect that Emma has, she can turn on a smile that lights up a room. Every now and then however, the fire in Emily's eyes can do the same, but in a different way. That's when it's apparent to everyone within 10 mile radius of her that decisions are to be made and it's crystal clear to everyone that Emily is very much going to be in on the decision process. It's a crystallizing and exciting and thoroughly enjoyable thing to behold. She is a master at it, already understanding when to stand firm and when to yield ground. I've seen CEOs with that same kind of fire. In time, and should she choose that route, Emily could hold her own with the whole lot of them.

Kim is a West Texas girl, pure and simple. She's relaxed anywhere. She moves confidently, efficiently and effectively in any direction, seemingly beholding to no one. With a little more time under her belt, she won't need a nudge from anyone to step up and bend a mountain man to her will. She'll just assess the moment, seize the opportunity, assert herself a little bit, break into that wonderful smile, stand foursquare solid, and then gently take the guitar from his hands. It was beautiful to watch last year; it will be wonderful to see it happen again in another arena on another day. Quite frankly, it's almost impossible for me to say how much I enjoy having Kim on the trip, and I won't even comment on her organization skills and dependability. No, it's difficult because I'm talking about being around someone is very much like the girls I grew up with in Silver. Talented, bright, interesting, engaging and charming girls who were easy to talk to and easy to listen to. All were firmly grounded and strong willed. All were a delight to behold. So when I try to describe Kim, it's like trying to describe some of my best friends from Silver. That's why I simply sum it up by paying her the highest compliment I can. She's a West Texas girl.

Jessi, of course, is Los Angeles. Others use point-and-shoot cameras; Jessi wields a SLR and shoots in black and white. Others jockey for position at lunch; Jessi is looking for perfect lighting. From my vantage, Jessi is on a voyage of self-exploration. The whole world is an open-ended adventure. The trip to Silver is comfortable, but Jessi manages to use it as an opportunity to re-examine familiar territory in new ways. It's how Jessi proves to be both refreshing and incredibly interesting at almost every turn. As I struggle to avoid becoming a close-minded old fart, Jessi is opening new doors, asking new questions, and creating things that tickle her fancy. What a delight! The music mix tape she put together is just one example of what's going on in her head. She's an artist who hasn't made up her mind on which canvass she prefers. I for one hope it takes her a very long time to decide. Because along the way she'll create things that will generate a reaction in peoples' heads and hearts. That's what artists do, isn't it? If so, she's already well on her way. I can't wait to see, hear, read, view, or taste Jessi's next chapter.

I find that I always save Laura for last in these follow-up Silver letters. Now I've figured out why. It's because I see her most clearly and least clearly of all the girls. With Emily M., Emma, Emily E., Kim and Jessi I can use every skill and ability that I've amassed as parent, advertising practitioner, teacher and friend of the family to observe, assess, encourage and cheer for each one of them. With Laura it's different and difficult. I did hit the mark on the head in last year's follow-up. But she's changed since then. She's more strong willed, more comfortable taking charge (or trying to), and more directed with her own vision of how the weekend should unfold. I find that to be hilarious great fun and aggravating at the same time. She'll push me right up to the point of making me mad on some decision, then immediately buckle in, run off and have forgotten the whole issue while I'm still cooling down. But you know, when I listen instead to her of trying to bull my way through things, Laura has good ideas, sound reasoning and a stubborn streak that I'm sure she gets from Gail. Surely, not me? Besides that, I like being around her. She's fun, quick and smart like a fox.

I also put my quick paragraph on Laura at the end because one day I know that when I ask her if she wants to go to the Silver Homecoming, she'll answer by saying yes, but that she'll travel there by herself. Or she'll say that she's already gathered up the Wild Bunch, and they want to meet me there. That will be a tough day. It will also be a most wonderful day. Because then I'll get to meet some very interesting young ladies in Silver, Texas.

OK, parents (and grandparents), I know you're wondering how it can be that I describe all six girls as being ringleaders, hard-charging, assertive, crafty, personable, charming, witty, wily, dazzling, and enchantingly, show-stopping beautiful young ladies?

Hell if I know. I just know that's how it is. They manage to crash together at times and literally explode into a motel room with more gear than can possibly fit into the bags they carry. Then they move in and out of sub-groups to tackle various parts of the trip. They pair off and tear off solo from time to time. There's communication going on that defies anything I'm ever studied in my academic background or practical experience. The girls seem to be perfectly in tune with each other, but can also tune each other in or out on demand. There is a fierce sense of pack operating at all times, but each one has room to operate fully and independently within that flexible wall. Woe be it to an outsider who might disrupt things. Yet, hello to someone they warm up to. Then it's instant, temporary membership with almost all benefits conferred. They can sense a change coming in the future, and they're adapting and growing stronger. They're all bending where required, never glancing back when necessary, and will all be stronger for it.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about the thing I mentioned in the second paragraph of this letter. It's something I discovered after the Homecoming. Several weeks after we got back, while planning on how to update my unofficial Silver Homecoming web site with pictures from 2001, I asked the girls if we could get together so I could borrow their negatives and include some of their pictures on the web site. They all agreed, and we met for lunch at a little restaurant on Guadalupe.

That worked great. They all brought negatives along and cheerfully agreed to let me borrow them. But here's the corker. Each one also brought their own scrapbook they had put together documenting the weekend. I've never seen these, and I don't know that you've ever seen these. They are great! Holy cow, I used to think my little web site was pretty neat, but compared to the girls' work, it's dull as mud. What a hoot! They are incredible. Every one of the scrapbooks is full of life, energy, razor-sharp editorial commentary and a point-of-view that is unique. As a professional communicator, I stand humbled by six very talented young ladies. Cheerfully, delightfully, amazingly humbled. What a treat to see the Homecoming through other editors' eyes! I got to experience the 2001 Homecoming six more times, and six times better. Thanks girls. That was wonderful.

I still have their negatives and a CD-ROM for each girl containing selected images that I had scanned for the web site. I'll use the return of those materials as an excuse to get everyone together again this summer.

Well, there you have it, a somewhat long-winded account of the 2001 Silver Homecoming.

Thank you parents. Thank you for the remarkable young women you've raised. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to put a little West Texas into the equation.

Thank you girls. You continue to add to my life. I'll have an invitation for the 2002 Silver Homecoming to each of you very soon.

Take care,

Gene

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