Chapter 52

Windsong: 1995

Buying a House

Revised May 1, 2011

Leaving South Carolina

            Sheila and I had left Arkansas in 1993 somewhat reluctantly.  I enjoyed my work at the Savannah River Forest Station as botany program manager for the United States Forest Service in South Carolina but both of us had our hearts in Arkansas.  Our parents were in the last years of their lives and I moved to Aiken, South Carolina did put us conveniently close to my parents’ home in Franklin, North Carolina.  For many years of my life had chosen to live hundreds of miles away from my parents and had not been able to see them as much as I would have liked to see them.  Many years later I would deeply appreciate having spent some time to be able to go visit them informally and spend a night at their house over a weekend about five times.

            As mentioned earlier, my parents had moved to North Carolina in 1970 and I had felt abandoned in Arkansas.  I knew the move was what they needed into my surprise they never moved again until their deaths in 1999 and 2006.  Even though we only saw them a few times during our 20 months in South Carolina this period of time was the only time in my adult life I would see them again frequently.

            While parents owned a beautiful house on nine acres of land next to a large perennial stream in a deep valley the rugged mountains of North Carolina, they were not what most people here would consider rich.  They usually drove 10 year old cars, had few new clothes, and lived in a house that would never be completely built.  As a carpenter, dad often had the opportunity to bring home waste lumber and materials from various construction jobs where he built houses.  He often used scraps to build sheds, a chicken coop, and even purchased a nice above ground swimming pool that was 3 feet deep and 15 feet across.

            Rich in love, children, land, home, and friendly relationships my parents had reached an age in life where they were always short on money.  Remember, in 1984 my father had his 80th birthday and my mother was in her mid 70s.  Their only income was a small social security check and prior to this time dad had worked standing as a greeter at the door in Wal-Mart.  He could a longer do construction work and about this period of time suffered to moderate stroke.  The stroke left him slightly paralyzed on one side of his body so that he used a cane to walk and could not always speak clearly because one side of his mouth was affected by the paralysis.

            It was during these visits home, as I discussed my parents’ finances with them that I realize Sheila and I needed to contribute to their support.  They had fallen behind in paying their annual property taxes so initially we decided to help them catch up.  Financially, this was not an easy thing for us to do.  For years, I felt like I was supporting my parents instead of paying off my credit cards which carried in 18 to 25% interest rate.  But she’ll agreed.  We would continue to send the money for the rest of their lives and make sure their taxes were always paid on time.

Opportunity

            In late 2004, I noticed a job announcement in the Forest Service computer system for a Forest level botanist / ecologist on the Kisatchie National Forest in Louisiana.  I wasn’t overly excited about moving again so soon but decided to apply.  It would turn out to be a good decision.  In the late 1980s, with no good job in Arkansas I had decided to return to graduate school and get a master’s degree in botany.  To my surprise, I was offered a job working for the Forest Service in Arkansas.  I had use my experience there to get a promotion by taking a job in South Carolina, but the move to Louisiana would be a lateral move at the GS – 11 level.  For several years I would say, “I got every Forest Service job I ever applied for.”

            The events of the Summer from Hell (see chapter 51) had left me wanting to leave South Carolina and the Savannah River Site.  I was ready for some fresh scenery despite the fact we would be farther from my parents.  The move did put us a little closer to Sheila’s parents and also closer to what I had long considered home, Arkansas.

Five cats, two dogs, and me and Sheila

            Simon and Elicia had blessed us with the care of four cats and a dog after their mother died, that is, after Gail, my first wife, died in June of 1994.  We now I had the task of moving to cars, five cats, and two dogs to Louisiana.  “I was worried an alligator might eat Muffin,” Sheila would later say when she first heard I had accepted a new job in Louisiana.  Much of Louisiana is on the Gulf of Mexico, but the Kisatchie National Forest is a couple 100 miles (about 300 km) inland from the coast and few alligators were in that part of the state.

            The trip was not much fun.  I took the dogs, Sheila’s pet named Muffin and Simon and Elicia’s dog in the truck and Sheila was stuck with five cats each in its own pet taxi in the car.  The smell in the car was particularly not delicious.  It rained most of the trip but we survived.  For $7.00 per date per pet all the critters except Muffin would live for the next six weeks at a kennel at our vet’s place of business.  Fortunately, the government was paying us about $32.00 a day in per diem, money given to us for food while we lived in a motel and work to buy a house.  Muffin was privileged.  She had seniority even over me, as I often said, since Sheila had Muffin before we got married.  So Muffin lived a cushy life in the motel while the other six pets were jailed at the vet’s.