Date:

8/10/99

To:

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

From:

Gene Kincaid

Subject:

Follow-up to the 1999 Silver Homecoming

cc:

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

_________________________________________________

Howdy all,

This year's follow-up has two parts. The first part is a rough chronicle of the weekend. The second part contains a few reflections. It runs a little long, but there were lots of things to cover. Here we go.

After a prompt 1:00pm start, it was smooth sailing all the way to San Angelo with the now customary pit stops in Llano and Brady. We've got this part of the weekend nailed. McDonalds in Llano. Park in the shade. Overwhelm the girl's restroom. Maybe an ice cream cone, maybe not. Right about now I begin to get the feeling that there's a food cache somewhere in the back of the van. Then it's off to Brady for an early dinner at the DQ, wherein the girls multiply by six the number of cute girls in Brady. They all squeezed into a booth made for four but are polite enough to pull up a chair at the end of the table for me. That was very nice, ladies, and it made my day. Table conversation(s) ranged all over the place. I missed most of what was going on, but both the source of the noise and the topics covered really entertained the four, old DQ "coffee clutch" geezers sitting in the corner. They certainly enjoyed the energy and laughter coming from our side of the restaurant. On to San Angelo.

Checked into the motel and met my brother, Raymon, who had taken off work early so he and I could take care of some family business. This is where Jessi's pre-trip planning was a perfect dovetail. She had already worked out a plan to visit her favorite aunt and uncle in San Angelo on Friday night. It was the perfect opportunity to give the girls a break from me, do something different on this year's trip, and give my brother and me some visiting time.

So we made connections with Shirley and Tommy Weaver, Jessi's aunt and uncle. The Weavers invited the girls over to their house for dinner and an evening of swimming, pizza and movies. It worked out great. Shirley and Tommy graciously asked Raymon and me to stay, then graciously allowed us to beg off and get our family work done, which we did. We rustled up the girls around 11pm, and they had had a blast. I could tell by the smiles, the chatter and the water-soaked heads. The Weavers get big points for adding a new dimension to the weekend and pulling it off with warmth, style and flair.

After an early breakfast at the Waffle House, we joined up with a classmate, Ricky Whitaker, and his wife, Victoria, for a morning in Silver. In contrast to last year, several of my classmates showed up this year, including Ricky. We were among a hand-full of kids who went through all nine grades at the Silver Peak School. One of my reminder invitations sparked both Ricky's interest and his memory banks. He contacted me by e-mail about three weeks before the Homecoming and proceeded to bombard me with a series of e-mails containing an amazing stream-of-consciousness. Ever the opportunist, I hacked all of his e-mails into a "four page, single-spaced, six paragraphs with little punctuation" last minute memory-jogger invitation and mailed it to 60 other Silver kids, hoping to stimulate attendance. It worked! Quite a few who hadn't attended in years showed up. But, I digress. Back to Saturday.

Every trip to Silver needs a destination. This year it was a quest to find the Black Water Hole. Last year we hiked up the Second Mountain. Year before, we climbed Silver Peak. Before that we skipped rocks on the Colorado River (or what passes for a river) and trucked down to the Low Water Crossing. One year Lonnie took us to Jackson Springs. The next, Raymon helped us find Dripping Springs. And several years ago, Raymon and I dragged everyone around looking for the Black Water Hole then wound up disagreeing on whether or not we'd actually found it. So this year, it was Black Water Hole or bust.

By 10:00am it's screaming hot. Undeterred, we hiked straight down a caliche road, past what's left of the Tubb Camp. There are still remnants of Silver's largest camp --- a street curb, patches of asphalt, empty spaces with concrete foundations peeking up, cattle guards, gates and fencing --- all quietly sinking beneath a sea of mesquite trees.

The girls took the lead while Ricky and I pull up the rear telling stories and lies to Victoria. It was hard to see who led, but Emily M. and Emma seemed to be farther ahead than the others. Occasionally the pack would stop and ask if we're there yet, but by and large, they just tore off down a very dusty and rutted dirt road in the general direction of "out there".

Raymon veered right and almost put us on the same trail we traveled several years ago when we didn't find this spring-fed stock tank. After a little head butting between the two of us, we retrace our steps back to the road and continued downhill toward what I know to be the Big Silver Creek.

At last we turned off the road and found the Black Water Hole. High caliche bluffs, a long earthen dam, upstream spring with cat-tails lining the edge, trees lining the far bank that gently sloped upward. Well … that's not exactly what we found. That's what I saw. The bluffs were actually about 10' above the floor of this now dry stock tank. The trees were a clump of skinny old mesquites. The spring was long gone, the cat-tails a memory. But there was a big patch of green grass at the bottom of the tank! Evidence that it does (or did once) rain in West Texas. We took photos to prove it.

Then a hearty band of six (Kim, Emily E., Emma, Ricky, Raymon, and me) headed down to the Big Silver Creek. We spooked an owl, got up close to a cluster of mud dart nests on the creek bluff and avoided places we knew to be snake dens. Another photo opportunity. Then we beat a hasty retreat back to the BWH, and up to the road. The return trip to the van was uneventful. The girls hightailed it back up the road with Raymon and Victoria in tow. Ricky and I lagged far, far behind catching up on about 30+ years of happenings. Wow, was it hot when we finally made it back to the van.

Cold drinks all around at that point. Then we cranked up the A/C, drove the short 3-mile county road that circles the Jameson oil field and Silver, then headed for San Angelo, with one stop in Robert Lee to see the Spence Reservoir. The dam was built after I left Silver in 1964, and I'd never even seen the lake. So Ricky took us up to a great overlook point for a quick look-see. He'd lied about his age in the late '60s to get a job working on main floodgates. However, the gates were high and dry, with the lake level at an all time low. But any standing water in West Texas is still a marvel.

The girls hit the motel pool as soon as we got back and dominated the whole scene. I wish I could tell you what they did or how much noise they made or who they talked to, but I can't. They took total control of the afternoon and told me to go off and have fun, which I did.

I had an early poolside visit with a good friend who drove in from Carlsbad, NM with his family. Raymon did the same with a couple of his old classmates and contemporaries. It was a great start to a fun afternoon as several families drifted into town and came down to the pool for hellos and hugs.

The girls hauled out of the pool about 7pm, and we ate dinner at Zintner's Daughter with one of my best friends and his wife, Lonnie and Marla Bloodworth. It took awhile to be seated, the service was poor, the steaks overcooked. Nary a peep from the girls, however. They were either real troopers or they were real hungry and dog tired.

After supper, it was back to the pool for visits with friends. Again, the girls took control of the pool and mixed it up pretty well with a Little League baseball team in town for a tournament. Kim and Emily E. wisely called it an early night, with the rest of the crew closing down the pool. Raymon and I had a hoot of a good time. Lots of friends showed up, lots of stores told were told, and only a few tears fell. That's the mark of a good get-together.

Have I mentioned how well behaved and considerate and thoughtful the girls were? Sunday was like clockwork. One, yes… one, wake-up call to the girls. Continental breakfast in the motel lobby. All girls packed and ready to go exactly on time. Room policed and orderly. Everyone dressed for church. Everyone willing to pose for a group shot in the parking lot before we left for Silver. It's already hot. Good humor all around, even when waiting for me to check out. Have I mentioned how well behaved and considerate and thoughtful the girls were?

Church services were well attended. But, as in prior years, the eight of us in the Kincaid clan made up about one-fourth of the total attendance. Rev. Blackman was in rare form. Really. Either that or I'm getting used to his sermons. He's now almost 80 but was still spunky enough to admit that the large crowd made him nervous. He even told a little joke on himself. We did get a pretty good dose of "Jesus is the answer", but overall I'd say it was one of his best sermons. And I told him so after services.

The town meeting went well, the most significant thing being the election of a new chair-person for next year. Luckily, as this year's chair, I had a well-timed complaint from the audience. Tommy Stewart, a fellow who's attended for the last two years, chirped up and fussed about some minor issue. As soon as he groused, I knew I had a target nominee for next year. A couple of my friends in the audience picked up on the opportunity and before Tommy knew it, he was nominated and elected by acclamation. It went like this. "All in favor, say 'aye'. Thoseopposedsay'no'themotioncarriescongratulationsTommy." So, I updated the mailing list, printed out two sets of labels, boxed up the history file, and next year I'll be an active participant dedicated only to having fun at the start of the millennium.

The potluck lunch was as home cooked and as good as ever. My next-door neighbor in Silver, Sandy Higginbotham, is compiling a cookbook, and I can't wait to get one. Everyone had a great time. We've lost a few moms and dads, so I keep encouraging my friends to bring their kids and their kid's friends. (A big sigh goes here.)

Best of all, the girls came through with some cheerful and prompt help at the end of the Homecoming. They helped straighten chairs, strip off tablecloths, and generally clean up the Fellowship Hall after lunch. Plus, Kim's quick alert when one of the church toilets went on the blink saved the congregation a major cleanup. That's one reason we were late getting home. I pitched in so my friend Doug wouldn't be the only guy on clean-up duty. The Homecoming puts a strain on the church facilities and helping clean up things seemed the thing to do. Even potty duty.

Things wound down after that and we were all ready to go home. One last photo opportunity at the front door of the church, and we were off.

Harmony on Friday's trip to out San Angelo. Harmony to and from Silver twice. Harmony on the return trip to Austin. Even allowing for the magic of CD players and headphones, the time spent in the van traveling home was a breeze. Easy duty. No kidding! No major outbursts. No stony silences. Only minor verbal sideswipes and one or two raised voices. Can it be true that I'm now able to discern a raised voice amid the general din? Yep, I can.

The only negative part was my discovery of a cellular phone "dead zone" that prevented phone calls home to alert parents of our late arrival time. My brand spanking new cell phone that worked great out in the middle of West Texas, wouldn't work worth a dime between San Angelo and Austin. I had to stop in Llano and use a phone booth to call Gail, collect! Apologies to all parents. Next year I'll call when we leave Silver.

Overall, it was a great weekend. Our rookie, Emily E., gets high high marks for not only putting up with adult nostalgia all weekend, but contemporary nostalgia from the veteran travelers. Next year we'll chunk gourds at the grocery store windows, skip rocks on the river and visit San Angelo's antique district so some of the references will make sense. By the way parents, does everyone know that Emily and Emily share Ruth as a middle name? So I'll use E. and M. to differentiate. Emily M. once again reigns as our fashion benchmark and point person on treks down dusty roads. On Saturday's hike all I saw of Emily were tan shoulders atop a young lady headed somewhere in full stride. At Zintner's on Saturday night, she absolutely sparkled. Emma ran under my radar screen this trip. She put up with my gentle ribbing every now and then, mixed it up with the whole bunch in the van all weekend, and took the lead at some key points in the trip. I'm not quite sure, but I think Emma has this whole Silver thing (and therefore, me) figured out. I hope so. She's a hoot to be around. Jessi gets bonus points this year for ingenuity, assertiveness and planning. She figured out the visit to the Weavers that turned out to be a total home run. Plus, Jessi's energy and animated conversations turned every stop into an event. Now I've seen her vivacious side. And yes, that's exactly the right word. Bright, animated, witty, poised and in control… vivacious. Kim gets the Dad Award. I've never asked Dee and Robert, but I think Kim may have been born in West Texas. If not, she should have been. Why would I say this? Well, Kim is quiet, reserved, and generally yields to others… when it suits her purposes. She's also the first one to lead the charge off to see a new creek, pushes back in conversations when friends step over the line and ruffle her feathers, and can toss in pithy comments at any time. Just like the girls I grew up with. And that's mighty high praise, Kim. Laura, even though she didn't win the Dad Award this year, did something else. She grew into someone I trust and can delegate things to. That means a lot to me. Quite frankly, it's one of the reasons I had such a good time this year. I'm very proud of you, Laura. You pulled off a great weekend amid a marvelously diverse group of friends.

Maaike and Lorraine always laugh when I say that the trip is a piece of cake. But it is. The girls are shaking loose of childhood in fine order. They're responsible, smart, sensitive, caring and they look out for each other. They also laugh loud, are tough as boots on hikes, can fill a room with an ear-piercing din, and tend to stay in swimming pools until their finger tips look like prunes. This year was remarkable. They took care of themselves, got into the spirit of the weekend and made me proud to be with them in every setting.

Actually, the real summation of the weekend "snuck up" on me. It had been lurking around the edges of awareness all that weekend and ever since then. Then it dawned on me, the girls are Silver kids. They're now as much a part of the fabric of the Silver Homecoming as any kid who grew up there.

How do I know? Comments like this all weekend from my friends and neighbors from Silver:

"Our three boys are right over there. Where are the girls?"

"My, they've all grown up so much."

"They're all such young ladies."

"They walked down to Black Water Hole, and back? What a bunch!"

"They're all so pretty."

"Oh, the little curly headed one, Alison, couldn't come? Then you tell her we missed her."

"You and Raymon and the girls certainly filled up a whole pew this year."

"Oh, they're all in the sanctuary keeping everyone entertained."

"You're bringing them all back next year, aren't you?"

In short the girls were:

Packed and organized. Self-contained. Ready for a four hour road trip. Quick negotiations on who sits where. Get comfortable. Borrow this. Borrow that. Eyes out the window. Chin in hand. Check out the boys in the car that just passed us. Ready to be there.

"(Silence) No, I'm not through with that. OK, but give it back when you're done. Oh, Oh, Oh, listen to this! Can I see your magazine? Yes, I'll give it back. (Silence)"

Self-reliant. Comfortable. Completely at ease among a curious blend of West Texas farmers, Sun Company folks, moms, dads and grown-up Silver kids with their own kids. Confident. Assertive enough to plan and pull off something new this year, the visit to the Weavers. Always polite. Courteous. Took the initiative. Loud. Asked questions. Helped each other out. Fit in, regardless of the setting. Filled the van with an incredible racket at times.

Sometimes adventurous, sometimes just hot and sweaty. Red-faced, sun-beat, thirsty, tired and bored, but, Holy Cow, ready to roll up shirt sleeves in the hottest part of the day to squeeze in some sun tan if they're going to have to walk down a dusty, caliche road.

"Let's go. Maybe we'll see Murphy the cow. Is this it? Are we there yet? What's that? Is it dead? What's a 'cow-catcher'? Here, I'll stick it on my hat. Wow, is it always this hot? Hey, there goes a jackrabbit. This must be the only green spot in Silver. I'm going to wait here. Hey, there's an owl! Right over there. Let's go see where it came from. Mud dart nests? Oh, like under the bridge? Hey, photo opportunity! Snake dens? OK, OK, OK. Let's go."

"Thanks for the Coke. Excuse me. Can I get right in there? I don't need a cup. I'll bend over and drink out of the spigot. Can you start the car and turn on the air conditioner … please? Oh, that tastes good. Ahhhhh … (ice water on the head). Let's skip the river and go back to the hotel pool. OK? Let's go."

Followed instructions. Game faces all around, even when everyone is totally bored stiff. Dressed to kill. Silent and patient while waiting in line for dinner. No big noises coming through the motel walls. Good sports. Not one complaint all weekend.

Restrained when required. Mixed it up in the swimming pool when they felt like it. Dominated the motel pool scene. Showed good common sense by calling it a day at a reasonable hour (two did anyway). Tiny foot dragging when the pool shut down on Saturday night.

"We're all ready. Everybody's packed. We already had breakfast in the lobby. What do you want us to do with our stuff? OK, we'll turn off the TV as soon as this is over. OK, OK. It's off. Kim's already down at the car. What time is it? Will we stop here on the way back home? Will you take a picture with my camera, too?"

Piece of cake.

Thank you, parents. Thank you, ladies. Let's do it again next year.

Sincerely,

Gene

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