Tales from Southern Trails

 Just running through a lot of memories so I thought I'd better put some down. Growing up in Wright Florida was the best! I always took for granted growing up with our Aunt Virgie and Uncle Red as our neighbors. Red and Virgie had moved from the original homeplace of Goshen, Alabama a few years before our family moved to the Florida Panhandle. When my mother and father decided to move to the panhandle, we originally moved into the house Red and Virgie had purchased. Red and Virgie"s house was an old chicken house that had bee converted into a home. As a child it seemed huge! There was a large living room with a fireplace on the west-side. There was also space for a formal dining area where there was an antique circular oak claw footed petestal table. This was mostly used to collect things! Out the eastside was the kitchen, which was large as well. There was an eating area there as well and a laundry area. There was a door leading out to the backyard. Out of the living room the

  Growing up in Wright Florida was the best! One of my best friends growing up along Hurlburt Road was Danny Blackman. For the longest time Danny and I explored all the trails leading off of Hurlburt Road. We always found a new trail to follow into a different area of the woods. Most of the time we were just exploring and to find what we could along the trail. Most of the time is was leaves, mushrooms and an occassional form of wildlife. Such as a bird or possibly a deer if we were lucky. The best was just being out exploring and having a friend with you!  As I think back on our life in this beautiful corner of the world, one of the treasures was living right next door to our Uncle Red and Aunt Virgie. Our homes were always open to one another regardless of the time of day. The cousins were always going in and out of each others houses looking for one another. Red and Virgie had about ten acres and our home had two acres, so we had plenty of room to roam around and find interes

John Hobson "Hop" Howard   Born June 23, 1921 in Goshen Alabama. I don't know much about my dad's early life. He grew up in Goshen. In his youth he enjoyed hunting and fishing. He and his friends used to head to the woods and river after school and on the weekends. Dad did relate a story about traveling with Uncle Howard Frank and Aunt Lillis. They traveled in a car from the south up the eastern seaboard to New Jersey and New York. When dad spoke about this trip it seemed to bring happy memories! A Purple Heart recipient, Dad had returned from World War II with injuries from a buzz bomb exploding near him in England. Dad never talked about his experiences in the war much, so there is little known specifically about his time overseas.  John Hobson Howard, known by most as “Hop”, age 89, slipped into Paradise peacefully at his home with all his children by his side on Tuesday, November 9, 2010. He was born June 23, 1921 in Goshen, Alabama to Harry and

 There's a strange sort of feeling not many talk of It's not really a hurting pain And it's not really a feeling of relief It's the kind that's hard to explain. It's just a feeling of emptiness That's been there for such a longtime You never even noticed it until it was too late And one of the least expected of things you'd find. It's a just that's like a feather in your throat. Not much to complain about, but enough to be there And you never knew that it was growing Or changing your heart into something that doesn't care. When you finally know what it is You find it hard to believ and wonder how it got here Not realizing it was taking away precious moments Of your time, Breaking apart the work of several years. And when it comes to justifying the reasons, You can't figure out what to say or who to blame. Only that it's a lot of things, not something evident Or something that you call by any name.   All you know to say is that you'